Alright so I've defiantly been neglecting my other stories, but I've had this running through my head for so long I just had to get it down on paper! I've finished it and it's all ready to be uploaded so I will be outing it out every couple of days. And I'm not the quickest writer so this 20,000 word piece took me like a week (Ok maybe 2) !

I will now be continuing my other stories, so don't worry.

Also, I know some of my facts are wrong, but some are sadly right. Many of the facts of the sinking of titanic have been twisted to fit my story, but they genuinely are correct.

The time line is also screwed up I'm missing a whole day, but I didn't realize that until I had already finished and I decided it really didn't matter to me.

Disclaimer: I don't own ATWT, or Titanic (the movie, cus I defiantly don't own the disaster.)


Lizzy Calvet sneezed as dust rose up around her. When her grandmother, Rose Calvert, had died she had inherited her small house, and that meant she also inherited all the clutter in her attic. Sighing she looked around; she still couldn't believe she would never see her grandmother again, but Lizzy gave a slight smile when she thought of her grandmothers life. Her late grandmother had lived a good life and the light haired women knew her grandmother could finally be with her loved ones she had lost.

She could be with Jack, her one true love.

Hearing heavy footsteps she turned towards the door to see her boyfriend Bock Lovett. His usual grin was replaced with a frown and his nose was crinkled with disgust at the swirling dust. He squinted towards the piles of boxes around him and sighed, following his eyes, Lizzy also gave her own sigh. They had been cleaning the attic for a little over half a day and they hadn't even made a dent. Lizzy could only think that she had learned something new about her grandmother, she was a packrat. Going through the boxes in the cluttered attic they had found decorations from every holiday, more decorations than anyone could use in one lifetime. They found boxes full of all kinds of papers, newspapers, school paper, and many other kinds. All those boxes were sitting in the living room waiting to be sorted. Lizzy had stumbled across a box of toys she had never seen before, so she could only assume they were her mothers, and her aunts and uncles. She had taken her time with these items, looking at them she realized that her mother could have played with them. Since she had lost her mother, she took time to look at things like that. Lizzy guessed it was a way to hold onto her mother, hold onto a piece of her. She had taken out a doll she had seen in a photo with her mother, and had told Brock to take the rest to the truck so they would take them to the local children's home, let some other children find joy in the toys.

Working well into the night, the two decided to quit only when they felt that they would fall down from physical exhaustion. Lizzy had found while she was looking through her grandmothers things that she found the history behind them amazing. She could imagine the owners of these objects using them for whatever reason.

"Well I think it's time to hit the hay Liz." Brock yawned as he stretched his arms above his head. Rolling her neck Lizzy had to agree. Lizzy stood from her crouch and dusted the dirt from her pants.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted. A good night's sleep, and then we can do some more tomorrow." Lizzy said excited with the prospect of finding more of her grandmother's things.

Gripping Lizzy's hand Brock corralled his lover towards the door. As the two passes a soaring tower of boxes brock accidentally nudged one of the brown boxes which caused a chain reaction and the boxes fell to the floor barely missing Lizzy. A cloud of dust caused by the falling boxes triggered the two too break into coughing fits, wiping her eyes Lizzy glanced down to the contents of the box that had fallen at her feet.

Her eyes locked onto a small green covered book, there were no title, and for some reason that intrigued her. Bending down she picked up the small book.

"Wow that was close. Hey Liz what is it?"

Turning to him she held out the small book, "I don't know."

Grabbing the book he turned it over in his hands, flipping through the pages he looked back at Lizzy.

"It looks like a journal or something." Flipping to the first page he read the name to Lizzy.

"Luciano Eduardo Grimaldi."

Liz rubbed her chin in thought, that name sounded familiar to her but she couldn't put her finger on it. Then it came to her like a hit to the head. She knew this man, but she knew him by a different name, she knew him as Luke Snyder. Snatching the thin diary from her boyfriend Lizzy hurried down the narrow stairs, leaving Brock standing in the attic. Switching off the light he followed after her. Finding her sitting at the bar he sat down next to her.

"So are you gonna tell me who this Luciano Gremlin is?"

Chuckling she corrects him, "it was Luciano Grimaldi."

"Ok Grimaldi. So who is he?"

Lizzy smoothed her hands over the cover of the book and glanced to the fridge. Slipping out of the chair she shuffled to the fridge. Searching, she moved a few photos around and then smiled when she found the one she was looking for. Walking back to the bar she sat a photo in front of Brock. Brock glanced down to the photo and found himself looking at the faces of two older individuals.

Peering up under his bangs Brock gave Lizzy a curious glance, picking up the picture he scanned the picture. "Ok well this is your grandmother, but who's the other old geezer?"

Saying this earned him a humorless stare, "sorry, who's the other person in the photo."

Snatching the photo from in front of him she ran her finger over the man in the picture.

"He died when I was just a teenager. We never really knew much about him, I mean he kept to himself most of the time. I don't even think he ever got married. He was a really great guy though, he was like family. He lived with my grandma, so that meant he was here for every holiday. He always gave the best presents. We- we called him Uncle Luke. I've only ever heard a few people ever call him Luciano. My grandma use to call him that, but I never really thought much of it. And when I was really little one of his other friends use to call him that too, but he died when I was only like 5 though." Looking down she spoke sadly. "I remember he was very sad after." She looked up at Brock with tear-filled eyes.

Laying the picture back on the counter she sat down in her recently vacated seat. "I really miss him."

Brock stood from the chair and wrapped his arms around Lizzy's shoulders. "He sounds like a great person."

Wiping the tears that had fallen on her cheeks she attempted to smile at the sandy haired man, "yeah he was." Pinching the book out of Brock's hands she rushed to the sun room. Brock followed at a slower pace. Sticking his head from around the door frame he found Liz with the book clutched tight to her chest staring at the moon through the glass. "So are we not going to sleep anymore?"

Keeping her eyes on the moon she answered, "I'm standing on the moon, with nothing left to do, with a lonely view of heaven, but I'd rather be with you."

Plopping down onto the small wicker sofa Lizzy opened the thin book and began to read.

Brock taking this as a no, grabbed one of the wicker chair. Placing it in front of the sofa and sat down into it.

Leaning back and making herself comfortable she started to read.

"April 10th 1912. We are journeying to Southampton to board the Titanic…..