The Last Survivor

Summary:

It has been 10 years since the SS Poseidon was capsized by a giant wave. As the disaster is remembered and memorial services are planned to mark the anniversary of the sinking, Acres wants no reminders of the ship where he once worked as a waiter, or of the fateful New Year's Eve when the wave had hit the ship and turned the vessel – and his life – upside down forever.

Although a decade has passed by, Acres can not forget the fall from the shaft and the near drowning in the swirling water, nor can he forget the injuries sustained in that fall, or the fact that after the rest of the survivors had got out, he was found barely alive some twelve hours later by a rescue party sent into the stricken vessel – and then became known as the Poseidon's final survivor.

But even though much time has passed, and in that time Acres has fallen in love with and married Nonnie, a fellow survivor, and is now raising a family – the Poseidon tragedy still haunts him, along with the memory of the fall from the shaft, and a recurring thought that after he fell, no one went down into that water and made a real effort to look for him, they had simply gone on, assuming him dead.

With the tenth anniversary of the sinking growing closer, bringing back terrible memories he has tried to bury, Acres realises the time has come to make a choice – to either find a way to lay the demons of the past to rest forever, or to be haunted by them for the rest of his days...

Author Note:

This fic should be considered AU as it looks at the alternative possibility that Acres survived the fall from the shaft. It is also written based on the 1972 Poseidon Adventure movie character Acres and does not take into account the Poseidon book or the sequel movies or remakes.

Rated T

Disclaimer: I own nothing at all - I write for love of fandom and fan fiction.

Chapter 1

Christmas of 1982 had been and gone. Now it was slowly edging towards the end of the holiday season and with it was coming the day that Acres hated and tried to avoid all reminders of:

New Year's Eve.

The former cruise ship worker was sure there were many people who hated the new year celebrations for various reasons, like drinking too much, or doing stupid stuff whilst being far too drunk, but none of that came close to why he hated that time of year so much:

Acres hated New Year's Eve because that was the night of the party on board the SS Poseidon, the night the ship was hit by a giant wave and turned over.

He had spent the first part of the early hours of New Year's Day struggling to work his way up through the turned over vessel, and then as they had climbed out into a shaft, he had struggled with the ladder that was bolted to the wall, due to the injuries he had sustained when the ship had turned.

He was the only wounded amongst the small party of survivors, and as explosions had rocked the ship, he had lost his grip and plunged down into swirling waters that had snatched hold of him and slammed him against the side of the shaft, that water had dragged him down then swirled up and slammed him about again, and by the time he reached a rail and clung on and used the last of his strength to haul himself up and crawl through a doorway, the others had gone.

Acres had slammed shut that water tight door and found strength he never knew he had to turn the handle. Then he had hit the floor and heard the water pound the other side of the door, but felt no pain, only a creeping chill and as he looked down at his clothing he saw it was ripped and heavily blood stained. His injured leg had turned numb and he saw torn flesh and white bone, but still there was no pain.

Then he had closed his eyes, and the world had disappeared for a while.

And that was how he had spent the early hours of New Year's Day – fighting alone to survive while the rest of the survivors had gone on without him...

Acres knew they would not come back.

Then he had felt the walkway where he lay in the maintenance area shudder as more explosions made the ship shift alarmingly.

And many, many hours later, he had woken to hear footsteps and as he saw the door opening, he had drawn in a slow and painful breath and then remembered whilst being slammed about in the water, he had hit a wall and something had smashed against his throat. Breathing was difficult and speech was impossible.

And the rescue party opened up the door and looked down at him.

"This one's dead," he heard one of them say, and realised they were referring to him.

And that was the moment when Acres had decided he was going to live, and he had closed his numb hand around a broken pipe and used the last of his strength to tap the metal wall.

The men had stopped and looked back.

Acres had tried to breathe, and then he had dropped the pipe.

And the medics had shot him full of something that made the world fade out, and then they had taken him out of the stricken vessel to a waiting helicopter.

And that was how he had spent New Year's Day, after being rescued, being flown over to a nearby ship – one of many that were taking part in the rescue mission as military personnel from several countries worked united to keep the ship afloat and pump out water from flooded compartments. They were wasting their time, of course.

Everyone else was dead...

Yes, Acres definitely had a very valid reason to dislike New year's Eve.

Over the years, his wife had tried to persuade him to go to parties with her on December 31st – but they always ended up staying home.

His wife was Nonnie, formerly a singer in the ship's band and a fellow Poseidon survivor. Nonnie had mourned the death of her brother Teddy very deeply, but even she had moved on now, and rarely mentioned the disaster at all, except for when the year came to a close and she would say she thought they were lucky to have survived.

Acres didn't feel lucky at all, he felt he simply just survived because he had been determined not to die, and luck had nothing to do with it...

And now it had been ten years since the disaster. Acres and his wife lived in a quiet London suburb, far from the sea - and they had been there in a three bedroom semi detached house for the past seven years, ever since the compensation payouts had been made to the survivors and they had decided to put some of the money into a place of their own.

Nonnie had wanted to travel to New York to meet up with the other survivors for the tenth anniversary. Acres had told her she had better be okay about doing that on her own, and then she had quietly agreed they would stay home instead. And then she had mentioned there was a memorial service in a local church, because a handful of the crew who had lost their lives that night were from London, and she suggested they ought to go along.

No had been his only response and then Nonnie had dropped the subject as their nine year old daughter had come into the room and asked what they were talking about. Their daughter Charlotte knew nothing about the disaster, and Nonnie had been reminding him lately that it really was time to talk to her about it – that was another suggestion that got a firm no from Acres.

And so the days were passing and New Year's Eve was approaching, and the closer it got, the worse he felt, but said nothing about this to his wife because he felt as if he wanted to nail up the subject in a box and weight it down with chains, and then throw it into something as deep and terrible as the ocean that had swallowed the ship ten years before...

As he woke up to another day edging closer to the end of December, Acres turned on his side, caught a view of the winter sky through net curtains and then turned on his back and closed his eyes again, wanting to be warm and to stay warm, with no reminders of anything beyond the house.

Then he felt a soft kiss on his cheek, right over a faint scar, one of many scars he carried on his body - a legacy of the night the ship turned over.

Then he felt her fair hair brush across his shoulder, and then she kissed his lips and said his name, and finally he started to smile, and he opened his dark brown eyes and looked up at her, she was leaning over him and looking down with such love in her eyes that even the cold skies outside that reminded him of angry seas could not chase it away.

"Morning, my love," she said sweetly, and he slid his arms around her and returned that gentle kiss she had used to wake him.

"I'm not getting up yet," he replied, "I want to go back to sleep."

"Okay, you do that," she replied, and got out of bed and put on a dressing gown, "But Charlotte will be up soon and she'll need breakfast, so I have no choice but get up."

And then she turned back to him, kissed him again and left the bedroom.

As she closed the door behind her, Acres looked around the bedroom with its floral walls and white furniture and green velvet drapes and gave a sigh, thinking if only the curtains were shut, he could ignore the sky and the time of year, and he could just go back to sleep.

He wished he could sleep until New Year was over and done with...

Acres thought about the past again, because he had no choice, because he always did at this time of the year – but this time, he recalled Nonnie, that girl who had helped him as he made his way with the others up through the ship, she had clung on to him and supported him, and even after he had been rescued, she still supported him, but this time with her presence.

With her brother gone in the disaster, she had no one. And so when she heard that he had survived, she had got on a plane three weeks after the sinking and joined him in Britain. He had woken up in hospital and she had been at his bedside.

Her first words had been, "We all thought you drowned. Mr Rogo went back down the ladder but the water was coming in and there were so many explosions – he couldn't do a thing. And we had to keep moving. I cried for you the whole time..."

A chill was creeping over him, the memory of the sinking was getting too close again.

He pushed it aside and thought instead about how he used to watch Nonnie in the dining room of the ship, while she was on the stage practising her singing. He had been struck by her beauty back then and had planned eventually to make a move on her. But after the ship had turned over all plans had changed – but she had still found him, and here they were a decade later, married with a daughter...

Charlotte was a bright and happy nine year old, with his eyes and Nonnie's fair hair. And she didn't know a thing about the SS Poseidon and he wanted it to stay that way - even though Nonnie had not given up on reminding him that she needed to know what her parents had been through one day...

The window howled outside and shook a skeleton tree branch and clouds rolled over and in on each other, reminding him of waves at sea, as if the sky mirrored the water that had claimed the ship on that terrible night.

He gave a sigh and decided to get out of bed, needing to be with his family, because this time of year was not a time to be alone for too long, not with the way the memories came at him out of nowhere, like ghosts determined to tap him on the shoulder, maybe the ghosts of fellow crew members, asking him what he thought he was doing, still living his life when they were all dead and gone...

"Stop it!" Acres said sharply as he pushed away crazy thoughts and got out of bed, now he was determined to face another day – even though time edged closer to New Year's Eve...

Twenty minutes later he was showered and dressed, and then he went downstairs to the kitchen to join his family for breakfast.

Nonnie looked beautiful in the silken dressing gown she had tied about a slender body that he longed to wrap his arms around – but that would have to wait until much later, because their daughter was at the table.

She set a breakfast of bacon and eggs in front of him and then a mug of hot tea and turned back to the cooker where she began to fry her own breakfast.

And as Acres started to eat, his daughter finished her meal and put down her knife and fork and then drank some orange juice.

"Dad," she said, "How did you meet my mum?"

And as Nonnie finished making her breakfast she pushed her fair hair off her shoulder and looked around.

"Now might be a good time," she said to him.

Acres gave a sigh.

"I don't think so, Nonnie."

"A good time for what?" Charlotte asked, looking curiously at her father.

As Acres looked into her eyes, he knew Nonnie was right. Charlotte was getting older, and sooner or later, she would hear something about the disaster, she might even hear her parent's names mentioned, because news of the anniversary was all over the TV news reports and in the newspapers. He didn't want to tell her anything at all, but she had asked, so he tried to keep it brief.

"I was working on a cruise ship," he said to her, "I was waiting tables. Your mum was in a band."

"With my Uncle Teddy who died. How did he die?"

Acres gave another sigh. Kids and their questions...

"In an accident," Nonnie replied, and then she sat down at the table, but had left her breakfast on the kitchen worktop, because talk of the Poseidon had put her off eating, and instead she cradled a hot mug of tea in her hands.

"How many ships did you work on?" Charlotte asked, and the change of subject came as a relief.

"A lot," Acres replied, "I was born and raised in Scotland, but I wanted a job that would let me travel and see a bit of the world, so I left home when I was eighteen and got my first job on a cruise liner. And it went from there, I worked on many different ships over the years – saw a lot of countries, met a lot of people, including your mum."

And he glanced at Nonnie and smiled, feeling a rush of love for her as he recalled how she had always been in the habit of calling him Acres since the first time they met on the Poseidon. She still called him Acres now, it was a habit of hers, but he really didn't mind at all. Nonnie smiled back at him, and then their daughter's next question shocked them both:

"Did you ever work on a ship that sunk? I mean, ships can sink, right?"

Acres looked at his wife.

"Tell her," she said quietly, and then she sipped her tea as her gaze nervously darted back to her daughter.

"Yes I did," he replied, "I was working on board a ship called the SS Poseidon. She was hit by a giant tidal wave and turned right over."

Charlotte stared at him.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Acres replied, "And that was the night I met your Mum. Me and her and a few other people had to make our way through the upside down ship to get to surface. Most of them made it."

Then he paused, frowning as he tried to assemble the right words to explain the rest, but in a way that would not upset his daughter.

"We were making our way through the ship and had to climb a shaft. It was very steep and water was coming in, rising all the time – there was an explosion and I fell. The others thought I was dead. But twelve hours later, thanks to a massive rescue attempt the ship stayed afloat and some of the water was pumped out - and they went down into the ship and found me locked in a room with a watertight door, that was what saved me...and they got me out, and your mum heard I was alive and she came to see me in hospital and that's the end of the story. We got married and had you and..."

Nonnie closed her hand over his, and he was grateful for her gesture of comfort.

"And lived happily ever after," she added.

Charlotte thought for a moment.

"Mum, you used to work the cruise ships with my Uncle Teddy and his band. Was Uncle Teddy there that night?"

And Nonnie's had was still covering his, and Acres felt her hand tremble at the memory.

"Yes he was," she replied honestly, "He died that night, he was killed when the ship turned over."

Charlotte looked to both her parents.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Because you wasn't old enough to know," Nonnie replied, "But you are now. Me and your dad found each other because of the Poseidon."

"And I think we should leave it there, because there is nothing else to say on it, is there," Acres remarked, and as Nonnie let go of his hand he looked at her and she caught that haunted look in his eyes, a look she had seen so many times before when another year was drawing to a close and New Year was just around the corner.

"Well, there is something else," Nonnie continued, "There is a memorial service for those who died, its being held on New Year's Day at a church not too far from us. I want to go but your father doesn't want to because he would rather not think too much about it. We both think differently about what happened that night, you see."

And she instantly regretted her carefully chosen words as anger flashed in his eyes.

"That's enough – no more talk about that ship!"

"But you should go to the service, it might help you to get rid of the bad memories, it might lay some of it to rest for you!"

"That's not how I see it."

He got up from the table and so did his wife, as he cleared away the breakfast plates and put them in the sink she followed him across the kitchen, while their daughter sat at the table, watching and wondering why her usually happy parents seemed to be disagreeing on something that was turning into a quarrel.

At first they spoke quietly, intending for their daughter to hear none of it, but of course it didn't work out that way, because Nonnie's raising of the subject of the memorial service had hit a raw nerve with Acres.

"I just want you to go to the service," Nonnie said as they stood there by the sink, where beyond a lace curtain came down halfway and the rest of the exposed window showed the view of a neat garden, now darkened down to bottle green by a winter that carried a strong breeze that blew chilly and shook boughs of bare trees.

"I'm not doing it," Acres replied as he turned to the window "I don't need reminders of that night."

"But everyone else is going to services, the other survivors are meeting in New York -"

He looked at her sharply.

"When did you find out about this?"

"You know I stay in touch with all of them! I write to all of them, they are all still around, everyone who got out of that ship is still alive today. That matters a lot to me!"

Anger flashed in his eyes again.

"What did you say, Acres can't come because he's too scared the nightmares might start up again?"

Hurt reflected in Nonnie's eyes.

"No! Of course not, I just said we would probably be going to the London service."

"That's enough," he said to her, "I'm not discussing this any more."

"Why not?" she demanded.

One look in her eyes told him he had upset her, and he wanted to hug her and apologise, but now the anger was too deep and too strong to brush off and in that moment, he felt as if the ship rocked and he lost his grip on the ladder and plunged down into the water all over again.

"They never came back to look for me!" he said bitterly, "They all just kept moving upwards, climbing back to freedom, no one wanted to risk their life for a wounded waiter who couldn't keep up!"

Nonnie stared at him.

"No, that's not true – I helped you, so did the others!"

"But no one went back for me when I fell!"

"Yes, yes they did Acres – Mr Rogo went back down the ladder -"

"And the water was rushing in and the explosions were happening and he gave up and went back up that ladder!" Acres said bitterly.

Nonnie blinked away tears.

"And I was so afraid I couldn't move," she said tearfully.

In that moment as she stood beside him with tears in her eyes, he saw her again on that night, a frightened girl, shocked by the loss of her brother and terrified of the prospect of climbing up through the over turned ship...

"Oh Nonnie, I'm sorry," Acres said, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

Then as a chair scraped back and Charlotte got up from the table they both looked at her.

"Did you two just have a fight?"

"No, of course not," Nonnie said to her.

"So why have you been crying?" her daughter asked.

"It's okay now," Acres told her, "Me and your mum just disagreed about something. It's not easy talking about the ship."

"Okay," Charlotte replied, "So maybe you shouldn't talk about it again."

And then she left the room and went back upstairs, keen to play with some of the new toys she got for Christmas.

Now they were alone, Acres gave his wife another hug and then kissed her before letting go once more.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, "But I can't help thinking like that – and I get so angry -"

"Over something that isn't true!" Nonnie exclaimed, "He really did, Mr Rogo went back down the ladder to try and save you – but it was going crazy down there with the water and the explosions – he couldn't find you, and the water was rising and we had to keep going. We all thought you were dead, I remember holding on to that ladder and sobbing with my eyes closed tightly because I couldn't move or look down. I just couldn't move for thinking about you and what had just happened!"

Acres ran his fingers through his hair and then shook his head as he looked to his wife.

"No, I can't believe what you're saying. I know it's what you believe - but you're not me, Nonnie! You didn't go through what I did! And I'm feeling worse and worse as we get closer to this bloody anniversary!"

"So what are we going to do?" she asked him, "You can't be like this forever, sooner or later you have to find a way to let go of it, otherwise it will always have a hold on you."

A haunted look reflected in his eyes as he met her gaze.

"Maybe it always will," he said quietly, "What can I do about it? I can't change what happened. Maybe it will always have a hold on me, maybe The Poseidon won't ever let me go..."