A/N: So I get bored in school and research in my book about Titanic I bought...This is what happens when I find a interesting sentence in it. "Bride said he loved the man in the end." Yeah...So i had this idea...Sorta like John Watson off of Sherlock BBC with the nightmares though~

Cheers!

Harold Bride never really got over the sinking of the unsinklable. It held many lives that were loved. One that Harold learned to love.

These bad memories only brought to the conclusion of bringing nightmares. He would wake up from these nightmares, in rage and panting. Sweat fell from his forehead lightly. He cried at this. It was mumbled so no one could hear.

But he lived with no one.

For the couple months following he would cry himself to sleep. He wouldn't ever forgot the man's name that always caught his eyes.

Jack Phillips.

His face and how it was so emotionless face. It was sickening. The cold, brown eyes staring in your heart. It killed his thoughts. His feet were already numb as it was. He didn't want his eyes to numb itself that night...

Those memories killed Bride. Why couldn't he have died. Jack didn't like him that way. So why would he care if he died. Jack was even brave that night!

When the points of the dreams in which Jack was halled on the life boat to be properly burried, a simple tear was going down his cheek in his sleep. He would wake up there. He couldn' stand it! He loved him to much!

He hardly walked the streets of New York. The city seemed to crawl over the survivers like leeches. He wanted to get away. Screw them!

His eyes always baggy. Each day out in the city, he swore he saw Phillips. And then at night, he felt cold hands wrap around him. Oh how it teased him. But was it true? God how he wish to know...it killed him.

He would always keep this secret. If Jack did live, He knew he didn't have the gut to tell him. But since that night, He loved Jack.

He was brave and strong. The way he always stood firm and right up was attractive, especially his face. He had the cutest look to him that was to die for. Oh how he wished to atleast touch his cheek.

And those lips. To die for. He never touched them to his lips, only on later and better dreams. They were heaven. That's when he moved to Scotland that he felt those. But it felt to real. No it couldn't.

One night, He awoke. A man's face infront of his. His lips hovering his. Oh how he wanted to push onto the other's. But. Something held him down. The face slowly started to disappear. He screamed in his sleep and awoke his new 'wife'. He didn't love her like...Jack.

For the rest of Harold's life, he loved Jack. He had a kid with his 'wife'. He could only do one thing. Name him Jack.

Jack was never really gone. No. He was in Bride's Soul. Forever.

Jack was forever living.