Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING, except this story.
Summary: Jack and Rose weren't the only ones who found love on Titanic. A young woman reflects on her life as she clings for dear life on the sinking Titanic.
A/N: Hello there. I was just on this site, and I realized wow, I've hardly used this account. And, that breaks my heart. So, I am watching my favorite movie of all time: Titanic. And, I see the part where Rose watches that blonde girl fall as the boat is dropping, and I felt a need to tell her story. So please try and enjoy this shitty one-shot told through the eyes of that very same blond woman. And please R&R!
Her eyes are clear and blue, with tears threatening to slip down her porcelain cheeks. The fiery red head is pressed into the young man's chest, and he is looking for a way out, but she is looking at me. Her brow crinkles in recognition of my face, and for a split second, we share the same emotion. A sick sense of humor entwined with the fear we both have. She turns away from me, looking up at Jack, a man I now recognize from below the decks. He is a friend of Fabrizio, a man I believe I love. If I survive, I will search the remains of the ship for any sign of him.
She holds her luggage tightly, but the babe slips from her hand, chasing after a red ball. The hall is crowded with oncoming passengers, and to lose her little boy so early on did not sit well with her. She hands her bags to her eldest daughter, and chases after the little boy, who's squat body has slipped past the legs of the passengers. He tumbles along the narrow passage, tugging at the pant leg of a young man. She runs towards the boy, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment.
"Come here!" she shrieks, scooping the child into her arms. "I'm so sorry sir! He sometimes jumps from my arms!" her voice is laced with a hint of French, and her frown wears her young face down.
"No problem!" he smiles, handing the red ball to her. He is dark and tall, with a thin mustache and a heavy Italian accent. He has endearing eyes and an equally magnetic smile. "I am Fabrizio," he says. She nods her head, and thanks the stars that her father does not see this man. For, if he did he would scold the young widow.
"Marion," she whispers, turning her back on Fabrizio. She can feel his gaze press her petticoat, but she does not turn back. She hears him whisper some Italian and there is a word she recognizes in the mutterings: "Bella."
I cling to the railing, my father's breath hot in my ear as he tells me he loves me in his tailored French. He speaks much more eloquently than any third-class man I have ever heard, and his bushy mustache is uncommon for a French man. But, he is sweet and means well as he wraps his strong arms around my own, securing us to the railing as the boat continues to lift.
I watch the young woman talk to Jack, telling him precious words for his ears only. How I long to have Fabrizio's arms around my waist like that, I pause hoping to catch Jack's eye. I know he will recognize me if he sees me, and give me some hope as to where my one-time love is.
All around me I hear the cries of men, women and children, thankful that my own babes are safe on the life boat. I feel my core shake, as the boat finally splits. My father rocks behind me from the shake, and I can feel his arms slipping from the metal. I dig my nails into his skin, clawing at his arm, but nothing stop him from falling. His fingers grasp for the metal, before he finally drops.
I shriek, one of the many screams aboard the falling Titanic. I can not dare to look down, fearful that if I do, I will meet my father's fate.
The boat drops to the ocean, hitting the blue water with a hard groan. I brace myself against the fall, but bang my head on the rail. I am unsure if it is blood, or drops of water that fall down my face. I begin to cry in pain, my head aches and my hands burn from holding the rail. I look besides me, and the young red head is secure in Jack's body, as his muscles flex from pain.
She dances in his arms, certain that her father will not be down here tonight. She laughs as he spins her around the floor, showing her off to Jack and an exquisitely dressed red head. Jack's partner did not belong in steerage, that she was certain of. And, Marion could not help but feel the sting of jealousy in her spine. It tickles her anger, and she watches Jack and the girl show off on the table. She pushes Fabrizio away, running towards the steps in tears.
How can that woman come here, and show off like she did, she wonders as she storms up the steps towards her room. It was not fair, her husband was dead, and she was left with two children and in debt to a man in Paris who threatened to kill her father if she did not repay him with cash or access to her supple body. Yet, that graceful, young woman could parade around in all areas of the ship, reminding everyone of just how beautiful and perfect she is.
Marion pushes past a love-struck couple in the halls, entering her small, empty room. Her children are off in her father's room, sleeping to his French fairy tales. A pair of gentle hands touch her shoulders, spinning her to meet a playful face. His taunting smile meets her eyes, but all she can do is cry into his shoulders. Fabrizio soothes her in his strong arms, rubbing a palm over her blonde curls.
"What is wrong?" he asks, taking a seat on her bed. She stands in front of him, her blue eyes red with pain and self-pity.
"Too much," she responds, sitting besides him.
"I have only known you a few days, yet I feel like I have known you a life time," he confesses, searching her face for emotion. She stares at him, unable to answer his words. "It is alright, you do not have to say anything, I know that this is just a voyage to America, and you probably have a husband back home."
Marion extends a bony hand to his arm, looking up at him with crystal eyes. "No husband, just two children, an overbearing father, and little money in the bank," she admits, waiting for him to shut the door on her and her pathetic life.
"No kids, no wife, no father, and a few dollars for me and a love I have yet to find," he jokes. "I plan on working in America, and I have a friend who will let me stay with him. We do not have to rush into things, but I care for you and your children."
She thinks of her babes, sound asleep with her father. They played with Fabrizio on the deck, enjoying his strong Italian voice and cheerful laugh. He welcomed them with open arms and twirled them through the salty sea air. She thinks that maybe Fabrizio can take away the hurt, provide a father figure to her babes.
She leans into his neck, breathing in the smoke smell of his soft skin. She meets his dark eyes with her light ones, and leans in to meet his sweet lips. He returns her kiss with a curious tongue, and a gentle touch. Their bodies fit together as they move on the bed. The pair are entwined in each others arms, grasping for all parts of body.
"I can't," she whispers. He gets off her with a sad, but understanding look in his eyes.
"How about a dance?" he asks, conveniently avoiding her face. He extends a tan hand towards him and she smiles at the gesture. She knows he is upset, but she cares for him too much to let him in. If he broke her heart, she would fall apart.
I cling to the railing as the ship lifts. My arms ache, and I am ready to drop, end it all. However, I think of my children in the life boat who need me, and I summon up strength I never knew I had, and manage to stay hanging on to the railing. I hold my breath as my muscles strain. My eyes water from the pain, and I whisper a prayer to a long forgotten God. Why had I even come back on the boat? Why did I insist on staying with my Father? My children need me, and I abandoned them to get my father.
The rush of emotion is far too great and in that instance I look up at the young red head. Realization strikes, and I recognize her as that young woman I had been so envious of. Here she looks down on me with a strange pity in her eyes. I stare into her blue orbs, concentrating on her emotions towards me. I grab on to the hope that she will extend a hand to me. However, I feel my weight pulling me down. My fingers slip from the metal and I am suspended momentarily in the air.
My heart rate rises as I fall into the sea of people clinging for dear life. I scream, but my shouts are unheard. My back collides with a pillar, and there is a startling crack, as I cry in agony. I feel my neck snap, and then utter-
Marion clings to Fabrizio a night after their incident in her bedroom.
"I'll get off with you," she says, earnestly meeting his dark eyes.
"I was hoping you would," he laughs. He has an easy charm about him, and she is comfortable sitting on the deck, looking up at the stars with him. The night air is chilly, and the cold stings the pores of her white skin. She digs her fingertips into his coat, pressing her lips against his.
"We'll get a place, raise my children together," she imagines. Her blue eyes hold a dreamy faraway look to them.
He squeezes her shoulder and kisses the top of her head. "Even your father will have a place in our apartment," he says. Marion nods, and with a content sigh, rests her head in his chest.
For once, everything seems perfect.