Author's Note: This fan fiction is also based on yet another dream I had. I know it's not the Twilight one I promised, but I do indeed intend to write that one eventually. And as always, only the story here and the dream belong to me. Everything else belongs to James Cameron.
Rose lay awake in bed, pondering and remembering. It had been a year, a whole year, since she and her beloved Jack had sailed aboard Titanic. Ever since, she'd been recovering from the death of someone who had saved rescued her. And then she had rescued him, and yet he died in the end anyway. It seemed that, when Rose had gone back for Jack after he was framed for stealing, it was in the end for nothing, since he'd died. After everything Rose and Jack had been through and suffered together, after everything they'd felt for each other, it seemed like her efforts to rescue him had all been for nothing.
And yet, she knew it hadn't been for nothing, because she had been able to make her promise to him, a promise she had absolutely every intention of keeping not only to him, but to herself. She would do everything she and Jack had said they'd do together, and she would have not one regret when she died. And no matter what, regardless of what life threw at her, she would never let go. She was going to keep her promise to her beloved Jack and to herself. And to someone else as well.
Rose suddenly was jolted out of her reverie by a high, piercing cry. It was her infant daughter, Polly, wailing in hunger. It was feeding time, so Rose got out of bed and began to breastfeed. Rose smiled as she spoke to her little girl. "My precious Polly," she said. "How I wish your father were here to see you. He would've loved you. Just as I do." It was true. Polly was Rose's and Jack's daughter. She had her mother's red hair and her father's blue eyes and lanky frame. And she also had her father's adventurous spirit. Already, at only three months old, Polly was crawling, eager to explore the world. She appeared to have no worries, no fears, no sorrows. And neither did Rose. Save one.
Rose's only sorrow was that her lover, the father of her beautiful child, was dead. She was rueful of that fact not only for her own sake and her daughter's, but for her Jack as well. He was so young and so carefree, and had so much to live for. Rose planned to keep her lover's legacy alive by telling Polly about her father, but only in secret, and when she was old enough. Rose knew Cal was still alive, and she wanted to make sure he never found out she herself was, also. She also wanted her own daughter to be free of that terrible man. Rose wanted her daughter to marry someone she loved, and to enjoy her life to the fullest, because one can never know which day will be one's last.
Rose meant to follow this plan herself, and see the world, and do everything she'd ever wanted to do, regardless of what society thought. She would live her life the way she wanted to, and the way Jack had wanted her to, not the way everyone else wanted her to. She would also raise Polly to remember these words, to always remember to "never let go."
Rose came out of her thoughts just as it was time to go to bed. After cooing Polly to sleep and setting the baby in her crib, Rose herself retired for the night. But just before she closed her eyes, she whispered, "I promise to take care of our little girl, Jack. I'll make sure she knows about you, and that you loved her. I'll also let her know to live her life to the fullest, to enjoy life, and, above all, to never let go. I promise to do this for you, Polly, and myself. I promise to do it until the day I die, an old lady, warm in her bed. And I promise to love and remember you forever."
And so, with that, Rose blew out her candle and pulled the blanket over herself, and just before she fell asleep, she could have sworn she heard a voice, a tiny whisper, which sounded so familiar to her, happily telling her, "Thank you."
A/N: I just wanted to add, as an afterword, that I particularly believe in this way of life, because I was diagnosed with cancer as a teenager, and the doctors didn't think I'd live to see me seventeenth birthday. I've been in remission for eleven years, but that's beside the point. Having cancer taught me to live a very productive life, and I intend to do just that. And I would also strongly encourage each and every one of you to do the same, because you truly never know which day will be your last.