Jack saw him over Rose's shoulder. He just happened to lift his eyes and see Cal tear the gun from Lovejoy's pocket. As Cal hurtled toward them, gun raised, Jack grabbed Rose and pulled her forward. The shot filled the air just as they moved out of range; it demolished the carving on the banister. Cal's features contorted in fury, and he ran after them. Flying down the stairs, oblivious to the shocked stares and cries around him.
Jack pulled Rose by the hand. They ran through the crowds as another shot rang out. Rose screamed. "C'mon, Rose," he urged. Her legs felt rubbery; she tried to keep up but couldn't. At first, she felt no pain, but then it hit her all at once, an intense, searing ache that spread through her body. A third shot was fired, and this time, she felt the bullet pierce her body. Still clutching Jack's hand, she fell to the floor. He looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened in horror at the crimson stain spreading across her coat. "Rose!" he yelled. Anguish thickened his voice. He didn't see Cal take aim and fire again.
Jack couldn't breathe. He didn't notice as he doubled over, clutching himself. This was worse than falling into a freezing lake. He cried out as another bullet ripped through him, coming out the other side. Blood soaked through his white shirt. He stumbled to his knees. Rose dragged herself toward him on one arm. She struggled to breathe. Blood smeared across the marble floor behind her. Jack collapsed next to her. The room swam before his eyes. He thought he saw her, but he couldn't be sure. Weakly, he reached for her.
Around them, people screamed and ran. Cal raised the gun to fire again when h was wrestled to the ground by two men. He lost his grip on the gun, and it slid across the floor. No-one moved to help them. It was obvious nothing could be done, even if the ship hadn't been sinking. A few of the women in the crowd began to cry, and the men tried to turn them away. Rose's voice was barely a whisper. "Jack."
They were only inches apart, and yet, it was an impossible distance. They fumbled for each other, desperate to touch one more time. Finally, with the last of his strength, Jack found her. He managed to put an arm around her, holding her as tightly as he could. Rose feebly hugged him back. They looked into each other's faces. Her eyes were dim. His golden skin was now a sickly pale. Rose slowly brought her hand up to his cheek. He was so cold; or was that her?
With one final burst of energy, she moved her head forward and kissed him. It was unlike their other kisses, and yet, it seemed to combine all of them. It said everything they no longer could. "Rose—" Jack's voice was faint. She saw the effort it took for him to speak. Softly, she shushed him. His head dropped onto her chest. She lay her hand on his hair. They each drew in one last, ragged breath, and then it was over.
There was no more pain, no more cold, no more weary bodies that refused to move, and no more voices that wouldn't be heard. They looked down at themselves; it was as if they were looking at strangers. Those weren't their bodies. That pool of mingling blood hadn't come from them. They watched Cal, horrified and shrieking, be pulled away. The crowd moved around them, some averting their eyes, and others, unable to look away. No-one moved them. Where would they move them to? The ship was sinking. Everyone had their own survival to think about. Those two were fine where they were. One person did pause ling enough to close their eyes. Now, they almost looked as if they were asleep.
They reached for the other's hand, comforted by the warmth and solidity of the other's grip. They turned toward each other. In the distance, a light beckoned, and music played. "I'm afraid," Jack admitted.
Rose put her arms around his neck. "Don't be," she said reassuringly. She pressed her face against his neck. "Dance with me, Jack. It's time for us to jump."
