Summary: Jack can barely remember what happened after the Titanic sank that night. One minute, he was asking Rose to promise him that she'd survive. The next thing he knew, he had woken up on a completely different ship with no Rose in sight. Terrified, he vowed he would find her if it was the last thing he did. He can only hope that she is still alive somewhere, and that she hasn't fallen back into Cal's clutches.

Special Thanks to MirrorFlower and DarkWind for reviewing these chapters! :)

Disclaimer: Titanic, is James Cameron's masterpiece, not mine.

April 15, 1912

Aboard the Carpathia, 07:00

Rose's POV

It all happened so fast. It seemed like merely minutes ago that the Titanic had sunk to the bottom of the sea. On the lifeboat, it had seemed like an eternity. It was hard to believe that only eight hours ago, I had been warm and safe in Jack's embrace, without a single worry of the fate about to befall us. Less than eight hours ago, I had felt more joy and hope than I had felt in my entire life. I envisioned a future more bright, hopeful, and wonderful than anything I had ever previously imagined. There, in his arms, I felt that nothing else mattered. So long as Jack was with me, I would forevermore be the happiest woman in existence.

Now, he was gone. The man I loved, the man who had saved my life in every way imaginable, was dead. I clutched at the blanket that was wrapped over my upper body. More than anything, I longed to be surrounded by that gentle, loving embrace once more. I longed to hear that gentle voice, to feel his soft kisses. Anything, as long as I could be with Jack.

In my mind's eye, I was haunted by the image of his frozen body clinging to the door. I could see myself over and over again, trying to wake him. Over and over, the image came to mind of my nudging his arm, calling his name, only to find no response. A single tear escaped my eye, and I quickly wiped it away. I couldn't draw attention to myself, lest I inadvertently attract the attention of Cal or Mother.

Before long, it became impossible to control. Tears stung the corners of my eyes faster than I could wipe them away. I pulled the blanket I had more tightly over my head, hiding my face. My throat felt swollen and tight as I tried to control my emotions. Every fiber of my being longed for some kind of reassurance, against everything I now knew to be true. The more the image replayed in my mind, however, the more I realized there was no hope left. A small sob escaped my lips, as the impact of the previous night began to truly sink in. Jack.

Before I could stop myself, the tears began to flow freely from my eyes. I tried to hide my face, but it was impossible. All I could think about was Jack, giving up his life to save mine. I could see myself betraying him with my silence as he was dragged away, see myself wrapped in his warm embrace, see myself facing him as I lay on that floating door. My chest heaved with sobs as I doubled over, trying to hide my identity from the first-class passengers.

"Jack." I found myself whispering his name, softly, over and over again, as if it could call him back from the frozen waters. My eyes overflowed beyond control. Why? I thought about the night he had saved me from suicide, the night he had taken me to my first "real party", and the time he had taught me to spit. Jack had been the sweetest and most wonderful man I had ever known. He had given my life meaning, purpose, and joy. What kind of a cruel God could kill such a wonderful man? What kind of a cruel God would take the wonderful man I loved, and yet spare the passengers who had looked down on him? Why?

By this time, the other passengers had noticed my distress. Some of the third-class women had gathered around me, having lost the men in their lives as well. Some were embracing me, others ignoring me, and others sending sympathetic looks in my direction. The commotion was enough to arouse the attention of the first-class passengers. Fortunately, though, it did not set off Cal's suspicions. I was still repeating Jack's name, but not loudly enough for any of the first-class passengers to hear.

"My Henry," one woman murmured, "fought off a guard who tried to block our path. Wouldn't let the bastard close the gate." She gave a slight smile, but there were tears in her eyes. The two young children that were with her were crying as well. "He was a good man."

"My little Beatrice," sobbed a woman I recognized from the lifeboat, "She ran off while we were waiting for the lifeboats, ran off in search of her father. I chased after her, but the crowds…", her voice broke, "It should have been her who was picked up by the lifeboat, not me!" The woman broke down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably. She was embraced by several of the other women, and I knew she had it much worse off. Losing the love of my life was horrible enough, but I could hardly imagine losing a child.

All the first-class passengers were looking at us with pity. I knew many of them had lost their husbands, but they weren't displaying it as openly. Some looked down on us with contempt, most looked down on us with sympathy and understanding. Out of all of them, I could hear Cal scoff at us. What an unimaginable bastard. One of the women shot Cal a look of deep disgust, before turning back to console the distraught mother.

"God dammit, Cal!", I heard Molly shout in anger, "These women just lost their husbands and fathers! Show a little decency, why don't ya?" Several of the passengers nodded in agreement. I did so slightly, but dared not turn around.

As the Carpathia sailed toward New York City, I found myself thinking once more of Jack. More than anything, I needed to comfort of that tender embrace. I needed to hear that deep, gentle voice. I needed to feel him safe and alive in my arms, and know that I wouldn't have to face the world alone.

It appeared I was not the only one.