Hey everyone! Sorry it's taken me forever to update, I've been working 12 hour days during my break to support myself, but now that I'm back at uni I'll have plenty of time to write. I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter, I had major writers block and couldn't find the time to get over it or even write something, and don't even get me started on my internet issues haha. I wrote this chapter on the train home from work, and I'm still not 100% happy with it, especially in terms of length (sorry about that!). Also special shout out to Taylorsierra17 for being my one and only reviewer, thanks for the kind words.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter and thanks for reading!

- Ms Gatsby

Jack Dawson was a man who knew many things; he knew how to play poker, he knew how the world worked, he even knew that somehow he'd managed to steal the heart of an upper class girl only days ago; but foremost in his mind, Jack knew without a shadow of a doubt he was going to die.

He knew it was going to happen one day, it was one of the few inevitabilities in life; he just imagined it to be a little different. In all honestly he had thought his end would come a lot more dramatically, especially given his lifestyle. That's not to say that the sinking of the Titanic, the greatest ship of her time, wasn't dramatic, but laying there on a door in the middle of the freezing Atlantic Ocean wasn't Jack's idea of adrenalin pumping.

He replayed the Titanic's final moments in his head. He remembered failing to reach a lifeboat, he remembered watching the ship break apart, and he remembered riding the stern into the freezing North Atlantic waters.

But it was all over now, the horror had ended. There was no pain anymore, no more suffering. He was at peace. There was no reason he shouldn't be; he had lived a good life, it mightn't have been a long one but he couldn't have asked for a better one. He had spent his life a free man, doing what he loved, he had laughed and he had loved, could anyone honestly ask for anything more?

He was ready. Ready to leave; ready to see his family again; ready to be out of the God forsaken water and to feel Heaven's warmth.

However, there was one memory that stoped Jack from being completely at peace, leaving Rose.

"Rose."

Her name pierced through his memory like a knife. He knew she would be devastated at his death; would she be able to go on without him? Was she strong enough to resist Cal's grip? Would she be able to survive on her own? His mind raced with worry.

He closed his eyes as he remembered her touch, it had given him a feeling he had never felt before; who knew porcelain hands could carry so much emotion? It was only hours ago that they had lead Lovejoy and the steward's on a wild goose chase through the ship. He smiled weakly as he remembered finding the Renault in the cargo hold.

"Where to, Miss?" He had asked her in his best British accent.

"To the stars." She replied, kissing him and pulling him into the back seat.

The more he thought about Rose, the more he realized he was being stupid. She was strong, stronger than anyone else realized, stronger than even she realized. She would be fine. One day they would meet again, but until then Jack had to accept that she would be perfectly fine without him. Maybe not at first, but one day she would smile again, one day she would laugh again, one day she would love again. She would make her life count, he knew she would; he had faith in her.

Jack no longer felt cold, he had stopped shivering. A strange kind of warmth had encapsulated him; it was unlike anything he had felt before. He knew what was happening; he knew this was his end. He wasn't scared, he felt safe and free; ready to start a new adventure.

A few hundred meters away a lifeboat was making its way through the area, searching for survivors, so far having no luck.

"Is there anybody out there?" one of the officers aboard shouted into the blackness.

"Can anybody hear me?" was the next cry that came from the solitary lifeboat, once again met with a deafening silence.

But Jack didn't notice the boat or its crew, he could only focus on the white light before him, he was going home.