A/N I felt I should have wrote this beginning first, to get things going.

Prequel to A Fresh Start. Set 84 years after the events of that story. All rights go to James Cameron and production for Titanic, and made with bits of my touch.


1996-Ventura, California

Rock music could be heard from a portable stereo as a young man, who looked no older than his early 20's. A typical surfer boy, in his tank top and baggy jeans, he set to work on a 1973 Chevrolet pickup, after draining the oil out of another Chevy, this time a GMC truck, a 1988 model with 4 wheel drive, and had an automatic transmission. The man rummaged through the contents of that old '73 truck, until he came across a hidden compartment. He removed the glove box, and something gleamed in the darkness. Slowly and carefully he pulled out the jewelry from the compartment, then inspected it with awe. It weighed heavily in his hand as he looked at the blue sapphire heart-shaped diamond, set in a white gold pendant, and hung on a silver chain. A noise coming from the house startled him, as he quickly put the diamond back in its hiding place, just as his father walked up behind him. He places a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you missed your great-grandpa, and its been nearly two years since then. He's very proud of you son." his father says, then walks towards the front of the truck.

"I can't believe you put that engine in there all by yourself, Jonathan. That Jesse was sure great with his hands, and he did a wonderful job teaching you. Did a wonderful job to the house, too. Though I can't seem to understand, and it bugs me is this; how come he didn't age like an old man, he was always, you know..."

"Must be in his genes, Dad." his son tried to reassure his father. "Pretend he's Moe, from The Three Stooges."

"Yes, but he'd look like a teenaged girl, with that strange hair style he had going on. Even the way he moves, acts, he looked a bit like a girl. I can't picture Grandpa as Moe. He looks much, much younger than Moe."

"There were days, like that time at the Dodge dealer back in L.A. Jesse almost had a hard time getting into that new Dodge 3/4 ton 4x4. He was still an old man then." His father had a chuckle about that one, then wiped at a tear.

"That salesman kept looking at him, like as if though he was a girl. He always loved that new style truck. Ever since that first commercial aired he wanted that truck. Its pretty big inside too. Too bad he can't drive that stick Chevy anymore, but he sure can still drive. First time he was actually comfortable-" his father took a deep breath, then pursed his lips tighter, to prevent himself from crying. Jonathan led his father inside the house, as somewhere, a TV droned on, while kids of all ages ran through the house, ranging from toddler to teenager. In front of the TV, sat Jack, in a wheelchair, looking indifferent at the screen. He channel surfed, though nothing interested him. Ever since his uncle passed it wasn't the same anymore. TV shows and movies were nothing without Jesse there, especially The Simpsons, where Homer was Jesse's favorite main character, and that he could relate to. He remembered Jesse hardly watched any television, except when it came time for animations, from The Flintstones, to the present Simpsons. Jack pressed a button on the remote, and decided to take yet another nap, until it switched to a cable news. Just as Jack began to wheel away to his room, something caught his attention, then slowly faced the TV once more. His eyes grew wide.

"Treasure hunter Brock Lovett is best known for finding Spanish gold in sunken galleons in the Caribbean. Now he is using deep submergence technology to work two and a half miles down at another famous wreck... the Titanic. He is with us live via satellite from a Russian research ship in the middle of the Atlantic... hello Brock?"

"Yes, hi, Tracy. You know, Titanic is not just a shipwreck; Titanic is THE shipwreck. It's the Mount Everest of shipwrecks." Lovett says from the TV, as Jack wheeled closer to the set now. Lovett continued: "I've planned this expedition for three years, and we're out here recovering some amazing things... things that will have enormous historical and educational value."

"But it's no secret that education is not your main purpose. You're a treasure hunter. So what is the treasure you're hunting?" The reporter was critical of this man. Meanwhile, not too far from Jesse's family's place, an old woman gets up from her seat, and with a cane in hand she carefully walks into the living room. Lizzy Calvert, whom Rose took the name of her late grandfather, rushes in to help her grandmother.

"Turn that up, dear." she says in her softest voice, and Lizzy does what she is told.

"Your expedition is at the center of a storm of controversy over salvage rights and even ethics. Many are calling you a grave robber." the reporter continued.

Brock fired back at the reporter. "Nobody called the recovery of the artifacts from King Tut's tomb grave robbing. I have museum-trained experts here, making sure this stuff is preserved and cataloged properly. Look at this drawing, which was found today..."

The news camera pans off of Brock towards the drawing, in a tray of water. The image of the woman wearing the necklace fills the TV screen.

"...a piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years... and my team are able to preserve it intact. Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity, when we can see it and enjoy it now...?"

Rose stood, petrified. Her mouth hung open in disbelief.

"I'll be -damned."


On board the Keldysh The Mir subs are being launched. Mir Two is already in the water, and Lovett is getting ready to climb into Mir One when Bobby Buell runs up to him.

"There's a satellite call for you." he says.

"Bobby, we're launching. See these submersibles here, going in the water? Take a message." Brock indicates towards the submersibles.

"No, trust me, you want to take this call." Buell says, then gestured at Lovett. "You'll have to speak up. She's old." Inside the ship Buell hands Lovett the phone, then pushes down the blinking line. The call is from Rose. Back in California Rose is in her kitchen, with a mystified Lizzy. Lovett's voice could be heard through the handset.

"This is Brock Lovett. What can I do for you, Mrs... ?"

"Rose Calvert." Buell says.

"Mrs. Calvert?"

"I was just wondering if you had found the 'Heart of the Ocean' yet, Mr. Lovett?" Brock almost drops the phone. Bobby sees his shocked expression.

"I told you you wanted to take this call." he says.

"Alright. You have my attention, Rose. Can you tell me who the woman in the picture is?"

"Oh yes. The woman in the picture is me."


R/V Akademik Mstislav Keldysh

A week later, just after the day Jack and Jesse's great-grandson arrived, the same helicopter is inbound, towards the Keldysh, this one carrying Rose and her granddaughter. On the deck Brock and Bodine are watching Mir Two being swung over the side to start a dive.

BODINE: "She's a -damned liar! A nutcase. Like that... what's her name? That Anastasia babe."

BUELL: "They're inbound." he points to the helicopter. Brock nods and the three of them head forward to meet the approaching craft.

BODINE: "She says she's Rose DeWitt Bukater, right? Rose DeWitt Bukater died on the Titanic. At the age of 17. If she'd lived, she'd be over a hundred now."

LOVETT: "A hundred and one next month."

BODINE: "Okay, so she's a very old -damned liar. I traced her as far back as the 30's... she was working as an actress in L.A., after leaving Chippewa Falls with her husband Jack Dawson during the Depression. An actress. Her name was Rose Dawson then, and had three children. After Mr. Dawson's death in 1977 she changed her name to Rose Calvert, and has since lived in California."

LOVETT: "And everybody who knows about the diamond is supposed to be dead... or on this ship. But she knows about it. And I want to hear what she has to say. Got it?"

BODINE, yelling over the incoming thundering blades: "What about that other one, the one in the wheelchair? Maybe he's got something to do with all this as well!" Lovett couldn't hear him, as he was too focused on the helicopter.

In a thundering downblast the helicopter's wheels bounce down on the helipad. Lovett, Buell and Bodine watch as the helicopter crew chief hands out about ten suitcases, and then Rose is carefully lowered to the deck in a wheelchair by Keldysh crewmen, the same way Jack was lowered the day prior. Lizzy, ducking unnecessarily under the rotor, follows her out, carrying Freddy the Pomeranian. The crew chief hands a puzzled Keldysh crewmember a goldfish bowl with several fish in it. Rose does not travel light. HOLD ON the incongruous image of this little old lady, looking impossibly fragile amongst all the high tech gear, grungy deck crew and gigantic equipment.

Jonathan lays on the bed, as Jack looks at the heavy diamond jewelry in his frail hands, as memories began coming back, while in the next room, Lizzy is unpacking Rose's things in the small room. Rose is placing a number of framed photos on the bureau, arranging them carefully next to the fishbowl. Brock and Bodine are in the doorway.

"Is your stateroom alright?" Lovett asked.

"Yes. Very nice. Have you met my granddaughter, Lizzy? She takes care of me."

"Yes. We met just a few minutes ago, grandma. Remember, up on deck?" Lizzy reminded her grandmother.

"Oh, yes." Rose finishes arranging her photographs, containing the usual snapshots... children and grandchildren... her late husband-

"There, that's nice. I have to have my pictures when I travel. And Freddy of course. Isn't that right, sweetie."

LOVETT: "Would you like anything?" Rose slowly looked up at Lovett.

"I would like to see my drawing." Brock turns to Bodine, then points to the next room.

"Get those two upstairs as well. I'll be there."


After meeting Jack for the first time for what seemed like an eternity, Rose looks at the drawing in its tray of water, confronting herself across a span of 84 years. Until they can figure out the best way to preserve it, they have to keep it immersed. It sways and ripples, almost as if alive. Rose's ancient eyes, gazing at the drawing. FLASHCUT of a man's hand, holding a conte crayon deftly creating a shoulder and the shape of her hair with two efficient lines. THE WOMAN'S FACE IN THE DRAWING, dancing under the water. A FLASHCUT of a man's eyes, just visible over the top of a sketching pad. They look up suddenly. Soft eyes, but fearlessly direct. Rose smiles, remembering. Brock has the reference photo of the necklace in his hand, while Jack and Jonathan looked at each other.

"Louis the Sixteenth wore a fabulous stone, called the Blue Diamond of the Crown, which disappeared in 1792, about the time Louis lost everything from the neck up. The theory goes that the crown diamond was chopped too... recut into a heart-like shape... and it became Le Cœur de la Mer. The Heart of the Ocean. Today it would be worth more than the Hope Diamond."

ROSE: "It was a dreadful, heavy thing." She points at the drawing. "I only wore it this once."

"You actually believe this is you, grandma?"

"It is me, dear. Wasn't I a hot number?"

LOVETT: "I tracked it down through insurance records... and old claim that was settled under terms of absolute secrecy. Do you know who the claimant was, Rose?"

"Someone by the of named Hockley, I should imagine."

"Nathan Hockley, right. Pittsburgh steel tycoon." Jack remembered that name. Back in the 1920's he had gone to school with another kid named Hockley, in Philadelphia, but after his senior year, they lost contact, as he adjusted himself in the wheelchair. "For a diamond necklace his son Caledon Hockley bought in France for his fiancee... you... a week before he sailed on Titanic. And the claim was filed right after the sinking. So the diamond had to have gone down with the ship."

Brock turns to Lizzy. "See the date?"

Both Lizzy and Jonathan looked closely at the date. "April 14, 1912." To Jack, the memories came flooding back.

"If your grandma," Brock then looks towards Jack and Jonathan, "and Rose, is who she says she is, she was wearing the diamond the day Titanic sank." Lovett turned his attention back to Rose. "And that makes you my new best friend. I will happily compensate you for anything you can tell us that will lead to its recovery."

"I don't want your money, Mr. Lovett. I know how hard it is for people who care greatly for money to give some away." Bodine looked skeptical over at Rose's direction.

"You don't want anything?" Rose indicates towards the drawings. She also wanted to ask if Jesse's drawing of the couple had been found as well.

"You may give me this, if anything I tell you is of value."

"Deal." he says, crossing the room. "Over here are a few things we've recovered from your staterooms. Laid out on a worktable are fifty or so objects, from mundane to valuable."

Rose, shrunken in her chair, can barely see over the table top. With a trembling hand she lifts a tortoise shell hand mirror, inlaid with mother of pearl. She caresses it wonderingly.

"This was mine. How extraordinary! It looks the same as the last time I saw it." Rose says, then turns the mirror over and looks at her ancient face in the cracked glass. "The reflection has changed a bit." She spies something else, a silver and moonstone art-nouveau brooch. "My mother's brooch. She wanted to go back for it. Caused quite a fuss." Rose picks up an ornate art-nouveau hair comb. A jade butterfly takes flight on the ebony handle of the comb. She turns it slowly, remembering. Rose is experiencing a rush of images and emotions that have lain dormant for eight decades as she handles the butterfly comb very carefully.

"Are you all ready to go back to Titanic?" Lovett asked, of the four people in the room. For Jack, this was an opportunity to know what his uncle was doing at that time.


In a darkened room lined with TV monitors, images of the wreck fill the screens, fed from Mir One and Two, and the two ROVs, Snoop Dog and Duncan.

"Live from 12,000 feet." Bodine tells the crowd, while Rose stares raptly at the screens. She is enthralled by one in particular, an image of the bow railing. It obviously means something to her. Brock is studying her reactions carefully.

"The bow's struck in the bottom like an axe, from the impact. Here... I can run a simulation we worked up on this monitor over here." Lizzy turns the chair so Rose can see the screen of Bodine's computer. As he is calling up the file, he keeps talking. "We've put together the world's largest database on the Titanic. Okay, here..."

"Rose might not want to see this, Lewis." Lovett says, with concern.

"No, no. It's fine. I'm curious." Rose says, taking a deep breath, then takes ahold of Jack's hand. Bodine starts a computer animated graphic on the screen, which parallels his rapid-fire narration.

"She hits the berg on the starboard side and it sort of bumps along... punching holes like a Morse code-dit-dit-dit, down the side. Now she's flooding in the forward compartments... and the water spills over the tops of the bulkheads, going aft. As her bow is going down, her stern is coming up... slow at first... and then faster and faster until it's lifting all that weight, maybe 20 or 30 thousand tons... out of the water and the hull can't deal... so SKRTTT!" (making a sound in time with the animation) "... it splits! Right down to the keel, which acts like a big hinge. Now the bow swings down and the stern falls back level... but the weight of the bow pulls the stern up vertical, and then the bow section detaches, heading for the bottom. The stern bobs like a cork, floods and goes under about 2:20 a.m. Two hours and forty minutes after the collision." The animation then follows the bow section as it sinks. Both Rose and Jack watch this clinical dissection of the disaster without emotion. Bodine continues.

"The bow pulls out of its dive and planes away, almost a half a mile, before it hits the bottom going maybe 12 miles an hour. KABOOM!" The bow impacts, digging deeply into the bottom, the animation now follows the stern.

"The stern implodes as it sinks, from the pressure, and rips apart from the force of the current as it falls, landing like a big pile of junk." (indicating the simulation) "Cool huh?"

"Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr. Bodine. Of course the experience of it was somewhat less clinical."

"Will you share it with us?" Lovett asked.

Her eyes go back to the screens, showing the sad ruins far below them. A view from one of the subs tracking slowly over the boat deck. Rose recognizes one of the Wellin davits, still in place. She hears ghostly waltz music. The faint and echoing sound of an officer's voice, English accented, calling "Women and children only". FLASH CUTS of screaming faces in a running crowd. Pandemonium and terror. People crying, praying, kneeling on the deck. Just impressions... flashes in the dark. Rose Looks at another monitor. Snoop Dog moving down a rusted, debris-filled corridor. Rose watches the endless row of doorways sliding past, like dark mouths. Image of a child, three years old, standing ankle deep in water in the middle of an endless corridor. The child is lost alone, crying. Rose is shaken by the flood of memories and emotions. And lastly, Jesse sliding down the deck to the water below. Her eyes well up and she puts her head down, sobbing quietly.

LIZZY (taking the wheelchair) "I'm taking her to rest."

"No!" Her voice is surprisingly strong. The sweet little old lady is gone, replaced by a woman with eyes of steel. Lovett signals everyone to stay quiet.

"Tell us, Rose." She looks from screen to screen, the images of the ruined ship.

"It's been 84 years..." She then looks at Jack.

"Just tell us what you can-" Brock says. Jack also looks at her, as if encouraging her to go on.

ROSE (holds up her hand for silence) "It's been 84 years... and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in." He switches on the minirecorder and sets it near her.

"Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams. And it was. It really was..."