Written by Elizabeth
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin
May 8, 1912

Rose smiled at the woman behind the counter as she paid for her groceries. Everyone was curious about Rose suddenly showing up in town, with the last name of Dawson, the name of the family, which the inhabitants had heard nor seen anything of since the accident five years ago. Was she related to them? Oh, she had to be. She lived on their farm; she tended to their graves. She had to have some sort of connection to them. They wondered.

Rose, on the other hand, had revealed nothing. A few times someone had tried to get some information, but the young girl had turned away and left, her eyes downcast while silent tears wet her cheeks.

Rose bought some flowers, before going to the graves of Martha and Henry Dawson and their young daughter Laura. She did this once or twice a week. She would put fresh flowers on the graves, before kneeling in front of them, letting her heart out. Mostly about her mourning their son. Jack didn't even get a grave or a tombstone. His grave was the Atlantic Ocean, and she hated that. What kind of a place to come to rest? So freezing cold and unfriendly. Before leaving New York, she had gone to the harbor, where she had thrown a bouquet of flowers into the cold water. That was the least she could do. And she planned on doing it again, next time she saw the ocean. After all, all the oceans are in some way connected.

*****

Rose stirred as she woke up. Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was only two o'clock at night. She had heard something--hadn't she?

It was then that she noticed the woman looking at her from across the room. Rose wanted to scream and tried to, but nothing came out.

The woman walked over to her and sat on the bedside. Rose's desire to scream was only encouraged, when she realized that the woman was more flowing than walking and that the bed didn't show any signs of the weight submitted to it when she sat down--the sheet didn't even wrinkle beneath her.

"Don't be scared," the woman said. "I won't hurt you."

"W-what do...do you want?" Rose stuttered.

"First of all, I want to thank you for visiting us today."

"Oh, my...you're..."

"Yes, I'm Martha Dawson."

"Woo...would you say hello to Jack from me?"

Martha held a hand up, as if to silence her.

"I also came to tell you to look well after my grandson."

Rose looked at her.

"Am I..."

"Yes."

"Does Jack know?"

"No."

"Can't you tell him?"

"I can't."

"But he's..."

"Jack is not among us. That is also what I wanted to tell you. My son isn't dead, he's alive and well in California. He's suffering from the worst case of a broken heart I've ever seen, but he's fine."

"That can't be! I...I saw him die!"

"Well, apparently you didn't. I'm going to talk to him when I'm done here."

"Oh..."

"Don't worry, you'll both be fine."

"Would you tell him I love him?"

"Of course, and I'll tell him about that condition, too, huh?"

"Yeah, you better."

"I better get going then."

"Good-bye, Mrs. Dawson."

"Good-bye, Rose. I might stop by again."

"Well, you'll be welcome."

And with that, Rose found herself staring into the empty air. And in the other part of the country, Jack woke up to find his mom sitting on his bedside.

"You've grown up to be a fine young man, son."

"M-ma?"

She smiled.

"W-what are you doing here?"

She sighed. "Wanted to see how my boy was doing."

"Oh, well, I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

How come she could look at him and know his innermost feelings?

"You're missing Rose."

Jack looked up. "H-how do you know about her?"

Martha smiled. "Don't you think I keep an eye on you?" she clouted him in a friendly way.

"Y-you saw?" He ducked.

"Yes."

"I...I really loved her, Mommy. I still do."

"I know you do. And she loves you back, you know."

"I know she did. It's just..." He sighed. "What did I do, Ma? Why did I have to lose her?"

"You didn't do anything, son. And actually, you didn't lose her."

"What?"

"That's why I'm here. To tell you. Because I know, and I can't bear to see you so sad boy, especially when there's no reason for it. Your Rose is alive."

"She can't be. I searched every single list. She wasn't on any of them."

"Oh, I know. The girl is pretty bright. She used the disaster to get her freedom. That fiance and her mother don't even know she's alive. She gave her name as Rose Dawson instead, Jack. She's much happier now, though she's having a hard time without you."

"I...I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Let me tell you something," Martha said. "You two are destined to be together."

"Then why were we torn apart?"

"I don't know. But I do know that sooner or later, you'd meet again. I just figured that considering the circumstances, I'd better hurry it a bit."

"Thanks, Ma."

"It's thank you enough to see my boy happy again."

Jack smiled.

"How do I find her, Ma?"

"Go home. She lives there, on the farm."

Jack nodded. He was impressed that she'd remembered where he'd grown up. After all, he'd only told her that once. Then again, he remembered every single detail of their conversations, too. "I'll go as soon as I can."

"Well, you better hurry boy. Where Pa and I are, we can see things and know things before everyone else. Another reason why I did this is that I want to see you with a family again. It's been a while since you've had that, but it won't be that long before you'll have it again. Yesterday, I realized that your Rose is pregnant. She's expecting your son."

He gaped. "Oh, God, she must be scared."

"She didn't know yet. I told her tonight, though. Before I came to you, I went and talked to her. She knows you're fine. I promised to say hello and let you know that she loves you."

"Thanks. I know that. She told me," Jack replied. "Thing is, I never got the chance to tell it back."

"You know what, why don't you write to her? I'll stop by with the letter so she'll find it tomorrow."

"Yeah." Jack got out of bed. It didn't take him that long to write the letter--he knew exactly what it should say. A few minutes later he handed an envelope to Martha.

*****

Rose stretched as she got out of bed. What a weird night. She smiled to herself. Could her Jack really be OK? Or was it all just a cruel dream?

Then, her eyes fell on the nightstand. She picked up the envelope placed there.

Rose, it said on the front in the familiar handwriting. Rose carefully opened the letter and read:

Monterey, California
May 9, 1912

Dearest Rose,

This has got to be the weirdest and eeriest thing I've experienced in quite a while. I sure you feel the same way. What my mom has just told me hasn't really sunken in yet, still, I hope with all my being that it's true. Rose, I'm coming to Chippewa Falls. I'm leaving in the morning (I have a feeling I'll get up early, so I'll most likely already be on my way when you read this). Anyway, the train trip will take a few days. Until then, take care of yourself and our son and remember that I love you.

Yours always,
Jack

Our son...Rose's hand brushed her stomach. She couldn't really feel anything different. Oh, well, she was only three weeks in, so it'd be limited what she should feel. She realized that she was hungry though, so she folded the letter and returned it to the envelope, before putting it in a drawer. Then she went downstairs to have breakfast.

Five Days Later

The butterflies in Jack's stomach seemed to be drunk or something. Anyway, they were going crazy in there. It had just been announced that the next station was Chippewa Falls. He had packed his things and was waiting in the hallway for the train to come to a stop. This was it...after five years, he'd be home again. Finally, the train slowed down, and Jack jumped off even before the train had stopped completely. It was still going a bit too fast, and he had to run along a few yards to avoid losing his balance.

Jack looked around. There weren't many people there. A few kids were trying to earn a few dimes by carrying people's baggage. Everything seemed to be like it had always been. Jack walked down the main street. He said hi to a few of his old friends, who immediately told him about the girl who'd shown up. Of course, he already knew.

Jack walked out of town, eager to get home and see Rose. He'd felt a bit weird about all this and hadn't really dared to believe it until some of the boys here had told him about Rose. He wondered how many times he'd walked this way. When he was on his way home from visiting his friends, and every day during his school years.

He turned down the driveway and approached the house. He knocked, but the door was ajar, and when no one answered, he took the liberty to enter.

"Rose?" he shouted.

No one answered. She's probably out. He went into the living room and couldn't help smiling. Rose had really given the place a nice touch. There were vases with flowers, which added a calming summery scent to the rooms. He went into the corridor and hung his jacket on the rack, before going down another corridor. Here, he entered his room. This was completely untouched though. It looked like he had left it. He entered his parents' bedroom and realized that this was where she was sleeping. It was remarkably clean, though. On his way here, he'd wondered how Rose was doing all on her own. After all, she'd had a maid to do almost everything since she was a child. But it seemed she'd adapted fine. Jack returned to his room, and went to look at the notice board he used to pin his latest drawings up on. They were still there. He looked out of the window, and felt his heart melt and leap with joy at the same time. Because there, along the path leading from the fields, came Rose. She was wearing a wonderful, simple floral dress, and the slight breeze played with her curls, which hung loosely down over her shoulders. She was carrying some flowers.

*****

Rose gasped when she noticed the jacket on the hall rack. Could it be? She didn't even get to finish thinking the sentence before she heard something inside and the door opened.

"Rose!"

"Jack!" she exclaimed, and almost jumped into his arms. He hugged her and silently thanked his mom for bringing them together. Somehow, he could feel that his parents were smiling down at them.

"I love you, Rose," he said, still hugging her.

"I love you, too," she replied, giving him a kiss, which quickly turned quite passionate.

*****

On May 14th, 1912, Jack and Rose were married. On January 17th, 1913, Andrew Dawson was born. He was to be the oldest child in a big family.

And Martha and Henry Dawson looked down at their son with pride. Not only was he happy, he also did a good job as a father and a husband, just like they had brought him up to.

The End.

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