Written by Yunie B.
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

I lie across the floating debris for what feels like hours, Jack right beside me. I stare blindly at his pale complexion, attempting to drown out the horrific sounds of pure struggle, the incomprehensible pain. My hands are numb, it is agony to breathe, and all I can feel is the mild heat arising from Jack’s uneven breath.

"The boats are comin’ back for us, Rose. Hold on just a little bit longer. They--they had to row away from the suction, but now they’ll be comin’ back."

Jack’s voice is erratic, and only slightly audible over the cries for help, the need. Time passes…the yelling, the screaming…the reaching…it all begins to subside. Suddenly, the world is silent, save only the gentle lapping of water…freezing water that ever so painfully begins to consume us, one by one.

"It’s getting quiet," I say. The usual power of my voice has been stolen, driven away, leaving only a sliver of voice behind in its wake.

"It’s just gonna take a couple of minutes to get the boats organized." I appreciate his trying to comfort me, but I fear that my hope has run dry. I turn my eyes towards Jack. He holds on tightly to the edge of what used to be a piece of paneling, shivering violently. Watching him, seeing him hurt so badly, I wonder…just how long can we survive like this?

"I don’t know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all this." He smiles at me, his sense of humor never faltering. I attempt a small smile of my own, but to no avail. I simply have nothing left. No more to give, no more to say…except for this…

"I love you, Jack."

He turns his cobalt eyes in my direction, sadness overriding his expression. "Don’t you do that. Don’t you say your good-byes. Not yet. Do you understand me?"

"I’m so cold…"

"Listen, Rose, you’re gonna get out of here. You’re gonna go on, and you’re gonna make lots of babies and you’re gonna watch ‘em grow. You’re gonna die an old--an old lady, warm in her bed. Not here. Not this night. Not like this. Do you understand me?" Why? What about him? Doesn’t he want to be part of my future…our future?

"I can’t feel my body…"

His face becomes cold, serious. I feel the grip on my hand become ever so slightly stronger. "Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you, and I’m thankful for that, Rose. I’m thankful." He slowly lifts his arm from out of the bitterly cold sea and takes my other hand in his. "You must--you must--you must do me this honor. You must promise me that you’ll survive, that you won’t give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless." I begin to feel warm tears stinging the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. "Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise."

"I promise." My voice is hoarse…weakness…its hold is so strong…

"Never let go…" A whisper, a promise escapes his lips…his eyes…

I am crying now, and I feel the sorrow leave for a moment, as it is just Jack and I…the two of us, and nothing, no one else. No pain, no heartbreak…no loss, nor fear. "I will never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go."

I watch as Jack leans down as far as his frozen neck will allow and presses his icy lips against my hand. I remove one of my hands from his and reposition myself so that I am lying on my back. Ignoring the cold night air blowing against my soaking form as much as humanly possible, I turn to look at the galaxy of stars…feeling only Jack’s hand holding mine, protecting me…

*****

It is as if hours have passed. No sudden movement or distracting noises. Only the slight wheeze of my voice, our song, trying to keep myself conscious and sane.

Come Josephine in my flying machine
And it’s up she goes
Up she goes…
Come Josephine…in my…flying…

My singing is abruptly interrupted. Light burns my eyes as I turn to look at the approaching boat…only meters away. I can barely make out the sound of distorted voices over the never ending ringing in my ears. I see oars gently moving the dispersed bodies to make way for the search, for any possible survivors hidden among the fifteen hundred or so departed.

"Jack." I lightly sway his hand. Turning to face him, I pat his arm in an attempt to wake him. "Jack." I begin, now, to shake his hand. Why isn’t he responding? "Jack." Turning to face the boat, I squeeze his hand with what little strength I have left. "Jack, there’s a boat. Jack." No response. I shake harder.

Something is wrong.

"Jack. Jack…Jack!"

Why won’t you listen?

"Jack!"

No…please, don’t leave me…

"There’s a boat, Jack!"

How could you do this?

"Jack?"

No…no! Why? It seems that every good thing, every blessing, every gift…it all just…fades away. Tears cascade down my frozen cheeks as I bring my head down to rest upon Jack’s once supple hand. Eyes closed, I want to forget…

No, not this…anything but this…I carefully open my eyes, to catch a last glimpse of the murky torchlight fading into the distance. No…what of the promise? Please, don’t leave!

"Come back. Come back!"

My cries are futile; they can’t hear me…

"Come back! Come back! Come back!"

Don’t go!

"Come back! Come back!"

I lift myself up, using all the available energy my body is willing to sacrifice.

"Come back! Come back…" Looking back down to Jack’s ghostly face, I paint his portrait in my head. AS gently as possible, I dislodge my hand from his as he begins to slip away.

"I’ll never let go. I promise…" I kiss his hand one last time, and watch as the ocean consumes him. Tears still falling, I slide off of the debris and paddle as fast as my aching body will allow towards the man in front of me. Reaching for the whistle frozen to his lips, I steady myself and blow with all I have left.

Come back…

The End.

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