Hey guys! I'm back with another fanfic, I know I have another two stories in process but this idea just came to me last night and I knew I had to write. So this story is about Jack single handily raising his and Rose's daughter Annabelle after Rose dies. As Annabelle grows into her teenage years her relationship with her father becomes very strained through the hurt and confusement of growing up without a mother. Jack struggles to cope with his demanding and rebellious daughter and after years of fighting he wonders if their broken relationship will ever be fixed.
So chapter one is set in many different time zones through the main stages of his life with Rose. Each section is quite brief but a lot more detail will come out in further chapters. Remember to review! As those who sort of know me as an author will know that reviews make me a happy bunny! So without further ado here is the first chapter. Happy reading!
Leah xx
September 20th 1929
Ten years to this day since she was gone. It's hard to even think it was that long ago when she's always on my mind. I think about her the most when times are difficult, which is pretty much nearly all the time. We had plans you see, just the three of us we were going to be happy. It seemed so cruel to think that we had both survived the sinking and then a mere seven years later she was gone. Leaving behind me and our daughter. It's not her fault she didn't want to die; she didn't want to leave us behind. Twenty two, a waste of a precious life she should be with us now. We should be growing old together. Rose Dawson I just wish you were here to help me right now, because I'm struggling without you.
May 14th 1912
"Rose, baby I'm home!" I shouted as I entered our shabby apartment, it wasn't the nicest of places but it would do for now, until we got our heads together to look for proper jobs it was too soon I suppose. After we both survived the sinking we were shocked to see the coat Cal had given Rose contained lots of money and the heart of the ocean. We used the money to get to Santa Monica, a place where we decided we both wanted to live our lives. We used the rest of the money to rent this place out and establish our lives, but we hadn't sold the necklace it held too many memories and no doubt the insurance would go back to Cal and well we didn't want him to know we were alive.
"Rose?" I called again when I got no reply.
"I'm out here," I heard her say. I made my way to the balcony where Rose was sitting on a chair staring out onto the pier. I walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the head.
"How was your day?" Rose asked turning to face me.
"Good loads of people wanted the drawing I drew of them I made about fifty cents." I said in excitement that was a lot for a day's work.
"That's great Jack!"
I smiled it seemed trivial that she was amazed that I had made only 50 cents, when she was used to thousands of dollars.
"So you know what tomorrow is," Rose said turning to face me with sadness in her eyes.
How could I forget? "May 15th a month since the Titanic sunk," I said softly.
Rose nodded and turned her stare back to the pier. There was a silence as we both were lost in thoughts. It seemed so strange that a month had gone by so fast. I suppose we were quick to try and settle home that we hadn't really had much time to think about. Rose stood up, smoothing her dress. She walked past me back into the apartment, I didn't immediately follow. It was sometimes nice to be alone.
I had an uncomfortable night's sleep. It was one of those where you couldn't breathe at the thought of suffocating, couldn't dream without it turning into a nightmare. I snapped my eyes open and was shocked to find an empty space beside me where Rose had been laying in my arms. I turned over to look at the bedside clock. 2:05 am.
I stood up and began searching the apartment but she wasn't anywhere to be seen, she hadn't taken anything no jacket or shoes. I had an incline of where she would be and decided to follow this instinct. I pulled a blanket from the chest of drawers and checked the apartment one more time before leaving. The beach was only across the street and the usual busy pier was deserted. I crossed over and as I stood onto the cold sand I noticed a figure standing by the ocean. I made my way over, the sand and as I drew closer, I saw it was Rose standing in the shallows of the sea as the gentle waves lapped over her feet. I reached out and wrapped the blanket round her, she didn't jump it was like she expected it.
"What you doing out here Rose?" I asked.
She didn't turn to face me she continued to look out at the ocean with the big moon illuminating it.
"Thinking, I couldn't sleep,"
"You to huh,"
"It just doesn't seem real," she whispered tears beginning to fall from her eyes.
"Hey it's ok," I said and wrapped an arm round her. She rested her head on my chest. I stroked her fiery red curls and planted lots of little kisses on the top of her head. Neither of us spoke or moved we stayed stood in the ocean until the sun began to rise. Remembering the past, and working on how to build a stronger future for us both.
July 24th 1912
Mine and Rose's life were improving dramatically. I had managed to get a job at the local art museum and Rose was working as a part time actress. So our wages weren't amazing but we had enough. We moved into a bigger apartment, one even closer to the pier. We had been decorating to, pieces of Monet and Picasso stood on the wall, amongst a few of my own pieces as well. We enjoyed trips out on our days off, and I loved cooking for her.
Rose had been ill on the mornings; she would wake up running to the bathroom to be sick. Naturally I would follow her, to hold her hair back, give her a glass of water and mop her sweaty brow. I was beginning to get worried when it had been happening for at least a month. I encouraged her to see the doctor. She refused at first insisting it was just a bug and she would be fine, but finally I managed to persuade her though she insisted she would go by herself.
That day I could barely concentrate at work. I tried to get in touch with her but the line would always cut off. I was happy when my shift finished and I rushed home to await the news.
"Rose!" I shouted as I ran through the door.
I ran into the living room where Rose was stood a huge grin on her face.
"Rose are you ok? What did the doctor say?" I asked placing my hands on her arms.
"I'm fine," she laughed. "We are both fine," She added.
Wait this couldn't be.
"It was morning sickness Jack. I'm pregnant," She laughed tears falling from her eyes.
I whipped her up in my arms and kissed her passionately. "We're going to be parents!"
"Yes!"
I kissed her again. "Oh god I love you Rose," I said wrapping her in my arms.
"I love you too Jack,"
January 30th 1913
The baby would be coming soon, and we had both been eagerly waiting. Rose refused to give up acting and continued working well into her eighth month of pregnancy, until it began to take its toll and the doctors told her to stop. I had wanted to make sure our baby would have all the things I never had. I worked hard and earned promotion after promotion so I could buy all the necessities like a cot, buggy, bottles, and clothes.
We had been painting the nursery, we didn't know what we would be having but I secretly hoped for a girl. Someone I could protect and spoil rotten, a little girl to call my princess. It had taken all weekend for it to be perfect.
Rose painted the wall a sherbet lemon colour. I couldn't help but gaze at her, she wore an old dress with her stomach bulging from it and her curls were loosely tied up in a ponytail. She had managed to splatter paint on her face and she stood back admiring the paintwork. She gazed round the nursery all that needed putting in now was the baby stuff. Rose caught me glancing at her and smiled.
"What," She giggled.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you looked today?"
Rose snorted. "Mr Dawson, are you feeling ok?" She asked.
"I'm been serious," I pulled her into my arms and hungrily kissed her neck, she struggled playfully.
"Jack get off we need to get this finished," She laughed.
I ignored her and began nibbling on her ear. Suddenly her arm flew up and I was aware of been smeared with paint. I dropped her from my arms as she cried with laughter.
"Oh you think that's funny?" I joked.
Rose stood with her hands on her hips and gave me a teasing look. I reached for the other paintbrush and hurled paint at her. The paint flew onto her face and hair she gasped her face turned into an O expression while I laughed.
We childishly began having a paint war before we were both covered in head to toe of yellow. We both laughed so hard that we fell to the floor. I reached out and cradled her in my arms while we laughed at the state we both were in. Suddenly Rose stopped laughing.
"Ow!" She said leaning forward and holding her stomach.
"Rose are you ok?" I asked concerned.
She jolted again as she felt another sharp pain.
"Jack," She gasped becoming breathless. "I think the baby's coming,"
It wasn't long after that when the ambulance came and whisked us both away. I tried my best to be supportive but really I was the one who was the most scared. Rose remained calm she breathed like the doctor had demonstrated even though the pain of labour was beginning to show on her face.
The labour was slow and tiresome. The baby just didn't seem to want to come out yet. As Rose went through more contractions she became frustrated and scared. I remained seemingly calm; it had seemed we had swapped positions.
Rose screamed as another contraction teared at her. "Why won't it just come!" She cried, her face bright red and drenched with sweat.
"It's ok baby," I soothed stroking her hair.
Finally it was time for her to push. I squeezed her hand and willed for her to keep going and half n hour later a small cry was heard. Our baby girl was born.
I held her in my arms. She wrapped her small hand around my finger and I immediately fell in love. I sat up on the bed with Rose and handed her the small child, she was perfect. I kissed Rose on her head.
"You did it baby,"
Annabelle Molly Dawson was born on January 30th 1913 weighing 7lbs and 3oz.
September 20th 1919
She had been deteriorating for a while now. Her health was non-existent and she was so, so weak. Rose had fallen ill with influenza about a month ago. She was determined to fight the infection off and started a course of medication. Nothing seemed to work. Shortly after she was forced to stay in bed rest until she got better. But she wasn't getting better. I held her in my arms as she woke up in the middle of the night in hot sweat. I was there to mop her feverish brow, wrap her in extra blankets when she was cold, force her to drink fluids and be a shoulder to cry on when she was scared and most vulnerable.
Annabelle, or Annie as she now like to be called was six years old at this point. We tried to shield her away from illness but she knew her Mommy was poorly. I remember waking up one night to find her asleep at the foot of our bed. Her arm resting over Rose's leg as if she couldn't bear to let go. It was true she had a close motherly daughter bond with Rose. The pair were always together.
That night Rose was telling Annie a story. She was an amazing story teller, coming up with a new Princess Annabelle story every night. I walked into the room with Rose's medication and a glass of water to find Annie lying against her mother with her thumb in her mouth, while Rose held her close telling her about Princess Annabelle fighting the evil dragon that had been striking fear amongst her kingdom. I sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her back listening to the story. When it had finished I carried Annie to bed stroking her light red curls I kissed her on the forehead and turned out the light.
"Rose you got to have your medication now," I told Rose handing her the glass of water and tablet.
Rose put them down on the bedside table. "Jack, we need to talk,"
"I think I'm going to have to order you some more," I said counting the tablets left in the packet
"Jack it's about-,"
"I meant to do it earlier but I got caught up in taking Annie to school and doing the laundry..." I interrupted. I knew what she wanted to talk about but I couldn't bring myself to hear it yet.
"When I die,"
I stopped rambling and turned to face her; I tightened the quilt around her and reached for the water.
"You're not going to die," I told her.
"Oh Jack," She whispered putting her hand over mine.
"You're not," I repeated.
"Promise me that you will go on with your life, to be the best father to Annie. Tell her about me, I don't want her to forget me Jack," She begun beginning to cry. I gulped back the tears I had to be strong I had to believe. Rose rested her hand on my cheek.
"Promise me Jack,"
I held her hand to my cheek and began to shake as I started to cry. "Don't leave me Rose. I can't do this without you,"
"You can Jack. Because you're the most amazing person I ever met,"
I pulled her in for a hug. "I love you Rose."
"I love you too Jack. Don't forget that,"
I laid next to her and held her for the rest of the night. Her head lay against my chest and I gripped her tightly. I rocked her as she fell asleep in my arms; I promised her I would be there when she wakes up. In the early hours I was aware of her slipping away, I didn't want to believe it.
"I'll be here Rose," I whispered resting my chin on top of her head. Tears flowed freely down my face as I struggled to hold in the sob I felt emerging. I couldn't kid myself. I knew she was gone.
My beautiful angel Rose Dawson had died in the early hours of September 20th 1919 at the age of twenty two.
*Sob* I hoped you enjoyed it the next few chapters will focus on Jack struggling to take on both the mother and father role as well as grieve. So remember to review or I might deliberately take ages to write chapter two and it won't be very good LOL. Reviews give me the motivation and make me smile =D
