Written by Phina
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
"Jack? Jack!"
Jack tore his eyes from the drawing
as a voice hollered directly into his ear. "What do you want now? Can’t
you see I’m busy?" He indicated the small sketchbook in his lap, the same
one he thought was lost forever, with a nod of his head.
"You’re drawing her
again?"
No words needed to be said, and
the figure leaned over, Jack giving a murmur of appreciation at the lovingly
sketched portrait. It had been so many years, far too many years to count, and
Jack still only had eyes for her.
There were so many wonderful,
magnificent sights around him, things that any mortal would die to see, but
Jack wasn’t at all interested. He wouldn’t even look up.
"You know," the voice
began again, casting a shadow over Jack’s drawing, much to his annoyance,
"I hear there’s a rumor going around that a certain someone might be
joining us soon."
"What do you mean?"
Shock wouldn’t possibly begin to describe what was coursing through his veins
at the very thought of what was being implied. Was it happiness? No, happiness
didn’t feel this monumental. Rose was an old woman now…she had lived her life,
followed through on her promise…it was pride. Pride, joy, and love.
"When?"
"Well, why don’t you set
those drawings down for a change and go have a look for yourself. You’ve been
sketching her for eighty-four years, Jack, trying not to forget her. You
honestly didn’t think she was going to stay away forever, did you?"
Grabbing his portfolio of
drawings and supplies, Jack raced through the pristine ship, waving
occasionally to a few of his fellow passengers. They all smiled back at him,
encouraging him to go and get his girl…God, it had been too long since he’d
been able to see her, to really see her.
There were moments of her life
that he had been able to be by her side, after much begging and pleading, of
course, but after all these years, this was something he never could’ve dreamt
of happening.
When she docked in New York,
looking so lost and terribly alone, he’d gone to her. He held her and comforted
her as much as he could…even if she didn’t know he was there.
Jack had been furious to open his
eyes that night and find himself in a very different place instead of the
middle of the North Atlantic. Being told, having it explained that he hadn’t
survived the sinking…the pain was indescribable.
He’d been forced to watch from up
above as Rose realized a lifeboat had returned. He’d seen her try so hard to
wake him up…then she had just given up. She had surrendered all hope at the
realization that he was gone. Jack had wanted to scream at her, shout at the
top of his lungs for her to live. To live for him, for them…and she heard it.
She remembered his words to fight and survive, and he’d been watching ever
since.
When she went to Santa Monica,
did everything they said they would do together…he’d been there on that horse,
on that roller coaster with her. When she was told at her debut onstage that
only one seat was left unsold, it couldn’t have been further from the truth.
He had watched from that seat,
staring up at her on the stage, gleaming with happiness while tears slid unnoticed
from his eyes. He was so proud of her.
The day she met Charles
Calvert…it was hard. He wasn’t going to lie about that. He had been told early
on in order to prepare him for the knowledge that she was going to be someone
else’s, but it hadn’t helped in the slightest.
Jack knew that Rose had never
loved Charles. Her heart didn’t belong to him and never would, and it made it
easier. It honestly did. Seeing her at her wedding, looking just as lovely as
he remembered…he would’ve given anything at that moment to be alive and with
her. Jealousy was something he didn’t want to feel. It overwhelmed and drowned
a person. He thought he had it under control until…
Rose had a child. His Rose had a
daughter. The thought was so…baffling, so strange, that Jack didn’t want to
believe it at first. He had watched, of course, saw the change in her figure,
her belly stretching to accommodate a child…
If the dead could feel pain, that
sight alone would’ve made him scream in agony.
He couldn’t hold it against her,
though. She only did as she promised him…
Jack went to their spot for now.
Slowly, he closed his eyes as he walked towards the bow, his hands gripping the
rails as he stepped up, allowing the wind to blow through his hair…there was a
trick he had learned not too long ago in order to truly be with her…
There she was. Almost one hundred
one years old and still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon.
Her appearance had changed drastically…the once-vibrant red hair was
silver-gray, but her eyes held the same excitement and youth he remembered.
With a gasp, he knelt beside her
wheelchair, intently listening to what she was saying. She was telling their
story, describing in detail everything that had ever happened on board the ill-fated
ship. He laughed when she described their first meeting, looking at the
propellers, cried alongside her at the realization that he was gone…
"I’m so, so sorry you have
to do this alone, Rose, and that I can’t really be here with you. I promise we’ll
be together soon. I promise you, Rose," he whispered into her ear, knowing
she couldn’t hear him, but hoping she might be able to take comfort in his
presence.
His words seemed to help, but the
tears still fell from her eyes. Jack smiled softly at Rose’s granddaughter and
the way she glanced at the man, Brock, with a look he recognized and one that
Rose caught onto as well. So, his little Rose was a matchmaker now, was she?
"Rose, Rose," he
chanted against her ear, "let them figure it out for themselves, okay?
Remember just how much fun it was for us?"
He smiled softly at her
acceptance of that and moved with her back into her room. While Lizzy helped
get her ready for bed, Jack found himself sidetracked by the various
photographs. He remembered hearing just how painful it had been for her not to
have a picture of him, or at least something of his to remember him by, and his
heart reached out to her.
The sound of the door clicking
shut startled him from his thoughts and he found himself frowning deeply as
Rose mischievously slipped from her bed and out of the room. "Just where
do you think you’re going, Rose?"
He followed her onto the deck of
the small ship, not having caught its name, and watched in stunned silence as
she stepped onto the railing. No, she wouldn’t…she couldn’t…
"Please tell me you’re not
going to jump, Rose. I can’t pull you back this time."
Walking closer to stand beside
her, he laughed aloud at his irrational fear. The diamond. She was going to
throw the diamond back into the ocean where it belonged, not herself. He was so
relieved, so utterly happy, he missed the sight of the shooting star above him.
A tapping against Jack’s shoulder
made him lose his concentration and he reluctantly opened his eyes to view his
unwelcome visitor. "What? You made me lose my focus."
"So sorry, Jack," the
figure replied sarcastically, "but it’s time."
"I know. Now, let me go back
to her."
The figure stopped him, pulling
him back from the bow with gentle hands. "No, Jack. You can’t be with her
for this. It’s something everyone has to do alone. You don’t have to worry.
She’ll be here in a few moments. We just need to get everything set up."
Jack sighed in frustration, but
halfheartedly agreed to do as he was told.
The Grand Staircase was filled
with faces he recognized, and after being guided to the clock, he stood
silently, awaiting her arrival. A hush filled the room, but he was too nervous
to turn around and look. Would she be there?
He could hear the soft steps
approach him and, not being able to take it any longer, he spun around. There
she was again, in all her radiant beauty. She took his hand without a second
thought, met his lips eagerly…
"Hello, Rose."
The End.