No copyright infringement intended! I do not own the characters of Rose Dawson and her mother (Ruth Dewitt-Bukater), nor do I own the character of Caledon Hockley. They are the property of James Cameron. The newspaper reporter is my own character. Gemma and Samuel Calvert are my characters except for their surname, which is the property of James Cameron as well.

CHAPTER 2: STARTING OVER

The next few hours were a blur. The Carpathia was greeted in New York by droves of people all looking for one thing: answers. Families milled about the dock, scanning the crowd for a family member who had been aboard the Titanic, and reporters set out to coax stories out of survivors.

Rose was lost, lost in her own mind. The stabbing pain of losing Jack burned in her heart like a white-hot poker. Swarms of people pressed in on every side of her, and everywhere she turned there was some reporter with a greedy look in their eye, trying to get an interview. She was devastated, alone, and disgusted. Who were these reporters to think that they could shove themselves under people's noses when a disaster had just occurred?

"Excuse me miss!" said a voice behind Rose. She turned out of habit, but regretted it in an instant. A young reporter stood before her, pencil and notepad in hand, poised to write. "Would you be willing to tell us your story, for the New York Times?" he asked tentatively. He had the typical outfit of a journalist; however, this young man seemed different from the rest. Most reporters wove through the crowds with an almost eager look, searching for dirty laundry. This one, however, held Rose's gaze with a look of concern. "Can I hear your account of the disaster, miss?" He asked. "The world is dying to know what happened."

"I…" she began. "I just…I can't." It was too painful to talk about. She turned away, feeling the tears come, and started walking.

"Hey!" called the reporter. "Come back! I only want answers!" Rose quickened her pace. Everyone wants answers, she thought. Too bad all I have are questions.

Rose pushed her way through the crowds of people, looking for a way out. Eyes blurred from holding back tears, she struggled past groups of survivors and the Carpathia's passengers. She was running now, running as fast as she could through the thickening crowd.

She had to get out, had to get free. Her mother was somewhere in this crowd, no doubt searching for her. Where her mother was, Cal was.

After escaping the crowd, Rose found herself on a nearly empty street; everyone was still at the dock. She wiped her eyes and headed toward the nearest building, and Irish pub called Biddy Milligan's. The tiny bell on the door jingled as Rose opened the door. It was a plain tavern, with a bar along one wall, long tables in the middle and a small platform at the far end for a band to play. Rose felt a pang of sadness as she was reminded of the third class party Jack had taken her to on the ship. It had been the most fun she'd ever had, and she had met so many wonderful people. Had those people survived? What about Tommy, Fabrizio, and little Cora Cartmell? We're they alive?

A middle-aged woman with a very warm smile stood at the bar, wiping the counter and talking to a boy about Rose's age. She looked up as Rose walked in, and her eyes widened.

"Good lord, child!" She looked Rose up and down.

"Excuse me?" Rose said meekly.

"You look a fright! Are you well?"

Rose looked down as she realized how she must look. She stood there in Cal's enormous overcoat, still damp from the earlier rain, face tear-streaked and hair a mess, no doubt. The boy on the bar stool turned and whistled.

"God in Heaven," he said. "What happened?"

Rose was at a loss for words. She knew exactly what happened; knew exactly why she was a mess. "I was…I was on the Titanic." She whispered, voice unable to go any louder.

"Good gracious!" gasped the woman. "We heard it had sunk, but couldn't believe it! We figured we'd find out soon enough from my husband and my other son, they're down at the dock, you see. Oh, come in, come in! You must be frozen. I'll start up some coffee."

Within minutes Rose was draped in a woolen blanket and given a steaming mug of coffee. She felt only a little better; she was still a bit disoriented and felt very weak and dizzy from running. "I'm Mrs. Gemma Calvert, by the way. They all call me Gem."

"Thank you for the coffee." Rose said. "And the blanket."

"Not a problem, child." Said Gem.

"Where do you live?" asked the boy. "I'm Sam, by the way."

Rose remembered what Jack had said when he attended dinner in first class on the Titanic. His words had awed her. She took a deep breath. "Up until recently, I lived on the Titanic," she said. "Now I'm going wherever life takes me. You have to…" she took a shaky breath and blinked back the tears threatening to spill out her eyes before continuing. "Make every moment count."

"Amen," said Gem. "Well, Miss…"

"Dawson. Rose. You can call me Rose."

Gem smiled. "Well, Miss Rose Dawson, you can stay here as long as you like."