"It's goodbye for a little while, only for a little while."
Through the racket and the noise she overhears a man next to her call to a little blonde girl in the boat. She's trying to fight an officer's hold as she's put in the lifeboat. Rose observes the face of the man in the hat as he struggles to maintain calm with all his might. There will be another boat for daddies, he says, just like there is for mummies and children. The girl and her mother are too far away now, unable to notice how shaky his voice is, to see his glassy eyes.
Rose stares at the boat absentmindedly as the distant cries and officers' commands fill her up with terror. Crowds of people rushed into the boats. Fathers separated from children. Husbands from wives. She turns around to face Jack.
"I'm not going without you."
"No, you have to." He looks into her eyes. "Now."
"No, Jack." There weren't enough lifeboats. In fact, there weren't many left. And there certainly wasn't any place for those threatening a first class misalliance. He would never get out of here.
"Get in the boat, Rose."
"No, Jack."
"Yes. Get on the boat!" He's raising his voice and leading her towards the railing.
"Yes, get on the boat, Rose." She hears a voice she hoped to never hear again. The suited figure comes up to them, his hair ruffled, a wild look in his eyes. Cal.
"My God, look at you, you look a fright!" He puts his long coat on her and attempts to pull her closer, but Jack is first.
"Go on. I'll get the next one." He pleads.
"No!" Frustration takes over her. Does he think her a fool? There is no "next one". It's not a tram. "Not without you!" She repeats.
"I'll be alright! Listen, I'll be fine. I'm a survivor, a'right? Don't worry 'bout me, I'll go on. Now get on."
His words sound sensible and true and she wants to believe them. She's exhausted, freezing, confused and scared and it feels good to listen to a steady, reassuring promise. Her thoughts follow her slowly, as if in a trance and she fights it to stay alert. Could he really make it through?
Cal comes up to them and looks at her. "I have an arrangement with the officer of the ship. Jack and I can get off safely. Both of us."
Get off safely. Both of us. Both of us? She looks at Jack.
"See? I've got my own boat to catch." He says. His lips curve into a small smile and something is off about it but she isn't sure what.
Next thing she knows, she's being pushed forward. It's all fuzzy and the rocket lights are too bright and it's all happening too fast. The officer lifts her up and she grabs the rope on the pulleys. Two women pull her in as she turns around last time and finds the handcuffed wrist sticking out from the mass of people. She grips his fingers. The boat lowers down.
Jack nods reassuringly. The seamen call. The pulleys creak. The ropes turn. She keeps her eyes focused on his face, resolved to never leave his eyes. The rockets illuminate his features. His hands are clasped together, as if in a secret prayer. When she's halfway down his smile slowly weakens and makes way to an expression she's never seen on him and hopes to never see again. It causes her stomach to shrink and tears her heart in two. His nostrils flare and he gulps.
The boat lowers down.
The women sob. The seamen shout.
And she lunges forward.
People gasp. She makes her way over the women in the boat, trampling them and pushing through, and jumps out.
"Rose! No!"
She collides with the gunwale and her ribs hurt. Two men help her up and she's back on Titanic. She sprints through the A-Deck promenade and she feels the blood in her ears, the heart in her chest. A faint, blurry memory flies into her head, a memory of the last time she ran exactly this way, so certain it was the last time she ran at all. How strange it is that in this most perilous hour, she clings to this very place. How strange to think, that after all this time it's life she holds dear. It's life she's running back to.
It's freezing and her sharp exhales create a fog in front of her, but she couldn't care less. Her feet carry her where she's meant to be - straight into his arms. Turning right across the lobby she almost slips, but catches a rail last minute. Making her way through the toppled chairs in the corner she sees him sprinting down the staircase and she doesn't stop even for a moment, allowing her body to crash into him wildly. She cries out with relief and embraces him so strongly she can't breathe. His face is flushed and his hair is a mess and he almost looks like he did back in those quiet, tender moments in the cargo room. He's holding her tight and covering her with kisses.
"You're so stupid, Rose! Why'd you do that? You're so stupid! Why'd you do that, Rose, why?" He repeats over and over, holding her close to him and she knows why. She always knew. She looks at him and remembers something she's heard on the deck. It was the wife of that businessman, Strauss. She held her husband tightly saying "Where you go, I go."
Where you go, I go.
He would throw himself into the freezing waters after her. He would lie to her to save her. And she would, all of these things and more. The moment she stepped into the lifeboat, or perhaps way earlier, reassured her of that. He was her ride or die.
"You jump, I jump, right?" She says.
Perhaps she surprised him once again. The look in his eyes says it all and his voice is croaky when he answers "Right." They embrace once again, knowing, that this way and only this way, they will survive anything that comes.