A/N: *nervous cough* Um, hi guys. So this is my first Titanic fic which is a little weird since it's my favorite movie. It was on the other day and these scenes sparked something and tada! We have this short little one-shot. I'd so appreciate reviews since I'm sort of new at this. I do not own Mr. Andrews, Rose, Jack, Cal, Titanic, or any other reconizable characters from James Cameron's movie. I hope you like it! Happy Holidays and happy reading!
He hears the footsteps rushing past him and, though he's a little surprised to hear that there are still people coming from so deep within his ship, he doesn't pay them any notice.
"Wait, wait, wait!" a familiar voice floats through the haze in his brain and he furrows his brows slightly, trying to put a face to the voice. "Mr. Andrews?" it questions tentatively. He turns his head slowly, reacting to his name and feels his heart break slightly.
"Oh Rose," he whispers brokenly. She's standing in front of him, her long dress drenched from the water rushing into his ship. She's with Jack, not Cal, he notes somewhat proudly. She was too good for that man anyway. But Cal is probably in a boat and this beautiful young lady is not. She's looking at him with concerned eyes and he feels ashamed. She's deathly pale and dripping water, but so young. So young, and beautiful, energetic, and kind. Traits that Jack seems to have as well. His eyes flicker to the young man standing, staring at the woman in front of him with such adoration and he feels a swell of respect. Jack is very smart. He knows the ship is sinking, he knows the boats are gone; he knows that he might not survive, and he's still standing there patiently, waiting for Rose.
"Won't you even make a try for it?" she asks softly, cocking her head. He sees it in her face – she doesn't understand why he's staring into the fire instead of up on deck trying to escape. A slight smile tugs at his lips as he thinks of all she has yet to learn, then vanishes as he thinks she'll probably never get to learn it. And that is his fault.
"I'm sorry I didn't build you a stronger ship, young Rose," he says quietly. Her eyes swell with tears, but then Jack is gently tugging on her wrist.
"It's going fast, we have to move," he reminds her gently, not wanting to tear her away from this goodbye. That's what Cal would do and Jack is not Cal. She nods slightly and turns to follow him, but now it's Thomas that reaches out a hand.
"Wait," he forces out. She turns back to him and, again, he's proud to see that Jack doesn't look impatient, he simply stands and waits. Thomas reaches down to the couch next to him and picks up the white life vest he had hoped would never be necessary. He glances at it for a moment, but the decision was already made. He hands it out to her and she takes it cautiously, her eyes glassy. "Good luck to you," he murmurs, hoping with all of his broken heart that she survives. Emotions flicker across her face and she reaches out abruptly, wrapping him in a hug.
"And to you," she whispers in his ear. As he pulls back, he sees that she does understand. Her eyes are very sad, but she understands. She turns to look at Jack who nods slightly and waits until she is through the revolving door to nod in his direction. He's received handshakes and awards, but he's never felt more honored to receive anything as that nod. In a blink, the two are gone and he goes back to staring at the clock.
He can feel the shift in the ship and he knows the end is near. He's surprised the lights are still on. He pulls out his pocket watch and gazes at the time as his brandy glass crashes to the floor and shatters. He thinks he'll ask a maid to clean that up. He looks back at the little clock and frowns. It's off by a few minutes. He opens the little glass case and moves the hand to the right position. He hates imperfections on this unsinkable ship. He sighs, wishing he could move the hands backwards, change his fate. Lord knows, he wishes he had more time.
The rain is warm as it washes over her. She doesn't panic in this water; it doesn't feel like knives stabbing her all over her body. She stares at Lady Liberty and, instead of feeling lucky, she feels angry. Jack never got to see Lady Liberty and she knows he certainly deserved to more than her. She misses him so strongly she doesn't think she'll be able to live, but she promised him she'd never let go. A man in a uniform with a clipboard and an umbrella makes his way over to her.
"Can I take your name please love?" She looks at him, thinks. It was never really a choice.
"Dawson. Rose Dawson," she murmurs. He smiles and nods, then moves on. His accent stirs a memory and Jack moves to the side of her mind (he'll never leave). A fresh wound bleeds as she remembers Mr. Andrews staring at the clock. He was a wonderful man, one she never really knew, like so many other brave hearts on that ship. Like her Jack. She wishes she could go back, change his fate. Lord knows, she wishes they had more time.