A/N: So I was watching this with some roommates and thought, "Hey, why not..." So I did. This will not become it's own story, this is just a small one-shot because I thought it would be cool. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: The characters that you recognize are not mine, they belong to James Cameron. And obviously, I don't own a big ship called the R.M.S Titanic. The White Star Line can have that disaster.


The Statue of Liberty. I remember from my lessons as a very small child that, at one point, it was copper. Technically, it still is. It's just rusted. From time. And weather. But mostly time.

"Miss, can I take your name?"

There isn't a second thought. "Dawson. Rose Dawson."

He was an American, like I was. I was going to get off with him in New York.

As I got off the Carpathia, I put my hands in my pocket to keep them warm and felt something cold. I slowly felt around and realized it was a necklace. I found a quiet corner in the streets and pulled out the blue diamond Cal had given me that night on the ship. I kept feeling around and found the two packets of money Cal had apparently put in there.

He would've made sure I was alright and safe.

I made my way over to where a lady, dressed like a nurse, was checking people for lice and other maladies. Before she could start checking me, I asked for the nearest place to find a meal. She pointed me in the direction of a small group, being led by another nurse. I followed them to the YWCA. I remember my mother scorning them whenever we would pass that building for whatever reason.

He would've let me get a job to help.

I found a nice family who need a governess. They were understanding to my plight and assisted me in reorganizing my life. I was Rose Dawson now, steerage passenger from the Titanic, who managed to survive. I eventually found my way onto the stage, where I met my husband.

He would've married me two minutes after we left the Carpathia.

Jeffery Calvert was the choreographer in a show I did in upstate New York. He was from London, but came to American with his parents when he was 18. It was one of my first lead roles and Jeffery took me under his wing to help me with the moves and my lines. Our friendship eventually blossomed and we married on August 20th, 1920 in a small, private ceremony in New York City.

He would've let me name my children how I wanted.

It wasn't that Jeff was overbearing; as a choreographer, he expected to be obeyed. I had had enough of that with Cal and I needed someone who would let me live my life. I had dreams after what Jack had shown me. So, after 10 years of marriage and 3 children, I decided to take my children and leave. I filed for divorce and moved the City with the children.

He would've taken care of me.

At the time, Jeff didn't pay child support. We got by on my odd jobs until I got a large role in an Off-Broadway show. I raised the children into successful adults and eventually helped raise my 10 grandchildren.

He would've grown old with me.

It wasn't that I was lonely during the times without him. I had plenty of boyfriends and male companions. But I missed the adventure that Jack had given me. So I went and found it on my own. I learned how to fly a plane and how to ride a horse bareback. I found a way to curse everyday of my life and to spit just as Jack taught me.

50 years later, I finally managed to take a ship from London to New York after a visit with my eldest daughter. As I sailed into the New York port, I looked up at the Statue of Liberty, just as I had done on that cold April morning in 1912. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew it was copper underneath. But time had wounded it. And healed it at the same time. Just at it had wounded and healed me. After all those years.