The Carpathia was teeming with sound – shrill cries of babies nestled amongst broken families, desperate pleas of wives looking for their lost husbands. But the worst? That was the silence- the painful, deafening kind that hung in the air between Rose and Jack. What was to be said after such a thing as this?
Rose had remained huddled in a blanket a blanket ever since she had stepped off of the lifeboat. Beside her, Jack had dozed off again – they were both trying to stave off what had almost been full blown hypothermia, and their bodies were no short of beaten-down and exhausted.
Their hands remained clasped, as if still holding on for dear life.
She took a moment to admire him – his rough, calloused hands, the sign of hard labour. Blonde-streaked hair, no doubt bleached from countless days in the sun, drawing, living. Rose couldn't couldn't wait to truly begin to live – she didn't think she'd ever been properly alive, not really. A half life, you could call it. Not at all her own.
Maybe she would get a tan, too, just for the hell of it. Her mother certainly wasn't around to keep her as pristine as a porcelain doll any longer.
For a second, she turned her head to admire the brilliance of the once again setting sun, when she saw him. Her face remained stoic. Should she really be surprised that Cal had survived? She watched him fumble around the deck for a while. God. Was he still looking for her?
Quickly, Rose covered herself and Jack in the blankets completely, hiding their faces from view. He went to look around at them, and she held her breathe. And then- he just gave up. He was gone. She would quite happily go the rest of her life without seeing that man ever again. To think that she had almost married someone she felt such a pit of resentment in her stomach for!
For the first time, in quite some time, Rose felt as if she could breathe.
….
"Rose?" Jack mumbled from beside her a few hours later. The sky had turned dark, and it had begun to drizzle. Like a little water bothered them any more.
Rose let her pink lips curve upward slightly, still in a sullen sort of stance, as he fully awoke. In an instant, he had pulled her closer, kissed the top of her curls delicately, and then, let her finally, erupt.
She sobbed into the soft cotton fabric of his shirt, harder than she could ever remember doing for the last seventeen years. Even when her father had died. She supposed that she had been conditioned not to.
"It's okay, it'll be alright now" Jack soothed warmly. "Once we arrive in New York, that's it. I promise you you'll never have to set foot on another ship again if you don't wanna."
Rose continued to sob.
"Well", he admonished, "certainly not a White Star Line one, that's for sure! Oh boy did I mean it when I said I was gonna write 'em a strongly worded letter!"
Rose let out a final sob, whimper, and then a small laugh. She'd never had anyone care for her like this before. She gave herself over completely to the laughter. Just for a change.
….
"So…" Rose began.
Jack waited for her to continue.
Rose eyed the Statue of Liberty looming in her peripheral vision, and stood up, taking Jack with her by the hand to get a closer look.
"So what, Rose?" He pressed.
She bit her lip, and sighed.
"When I said I was getting off with you, I never asked. Is that what you wanted? So much has happened, and I realise-"
Jack cut her babbling off with a searing kiss, forcefully pressing his lips against hers.
This kiss seemed to encapsulate every other passionate moment that they had shared. Between her tangled lashes, Rose could see a setting sunset, hear Rose Jack crooning into her ear, watched him again and again as he ran to her with both amazement and fear, feel his arms lifting her into his own.
Rose's hands travelled to his hair, tugging on it gently to make sure that he was still here, still with her.
He bit her bottom lip, and she let out a moan of delight, hands roaming up and down –
"Excuse me?" The sound of a most impatient man came from behind them. He cleared his throat in embarrassment as they broke away from one another, although, Jack would not let their handhold break. Rose smiled at that.
"Um… can I take your names, please?"
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Rose quickly cut him to the chase.
"Dawson." She stated. "Jack and Rose Dawson."
Quickly stealing a sidewards glance, she could see Jack's face explore a plethora of emotions; shocked, happy, worried, back to brilliantly happy again. The man noted it down, and sauntered off.
"Have you really thought this through? Are you sure this is what you still want?" Jack frowned, looking into her eyes as if trying to read her thoughts.
"Yes. I know what I want. You" she confirmed. "I don't need anything else."
He smiled, but rolled his eyes.
"Well, I am pretty great, but I think foods pretty important. What I wouldn't do for a hotdog right now!" Jack smiled.
Rose smacked him around the shoulder playfully.
"I was trying to be deep and romantic and meaningful and you completely ruined the mood!" She laughed.
"Oh, okay okay, how about this then", Jack chuckled. "You jump I jump, right?"
"That's right", Rose grinned. "And don't you forget it."