**All rights go to James Cameron. His characters and storyline, my fanfic. Please do not reproduce plot without permission from MrsGatsby, 2013**

Author's Note: To say that life isn't driving me crazy would be an understatement, but somewhere, I was able to write this. Okay.

March 1, 1912

The same strident scream pierced the darkness of the cell, and Rose sat up, screaming bloody murder, her tears spilling down her pale skin. Tears spilled down her porcelain cheeks, and she sobbed into her pillow, shuddering with every breath she took. Her body wracked with heartfelt sobs, and she thought that maybe if she cried more, all the pain would fade away and just leave. The same nightmare was here; it was never-ending. It reoccurred every night, and Rose would wake up, screaming just the same as she did now. The nightmare wasn't just a dream, though… it was a memory… a memory that Rose had tried to get rid of… but couldn't… when the moon showed its radiance, and the blue sky turned black, karma loved to remind her of that terrible day…

"Be quiet! You little whore!" a security guard called harshly, voice rough and irate. Through the shadows and darkness, Rose saw his shadow as he banged on the cell, his bat colliding with the metal as it reverberated slightly making Rose curl up in a ball, as if maybe the fetal position would help any. Of course, it didn't. The nightmares continued to penetrate her skull, and there was no way out. Rose shivered in her cell and coughed slightly, willing for herself to be quiet. If she made a sound… Rose didn't want to think of the explicit things the guards would do with her. The thought of their hands on her bare skin made her skin crawl, and she shook slightly. Her throat was on fire, and Rose pushed a sweaty curl out of her eyes. Her fever hadn't broken yet, and as she coughed, her body convulsing slightly. Rose curled into a fetal position, wrapping the sheet around her body tighter in an attempt to go back to sleep, but she couldn't. The nightmares would just catch up to her as she stumbled through the darkness, willing them to go away.

Footsteps awoke Rose from her dreamless slumber, and she blinked wearily, pushing a stray red curl out of her eyes. Keys jingled, and Rose tensed as someone came into her cell. Her heartbeat quickened, beating ten to a dozen, and she sat up, pulling the sheet up to her heart in fear. Her green eyes flickered past, and immediately, Rose reached for the little pocket knife that was tucked securely underneath her mattress. As she fumbled for it, her fingers shook like mad and that didn't seem to help the situation at all. A small whimper came from the base of her throat, and Rose tensed, finally freeing her knife as she waved it wildly out into the darkness, adrenaline pumping through her veins. There would be no way that anyone would torture her tonight. The voices would not get her. The men would not get her. She had to be brave.

"Hey, it's alright. It's just me." Rose instantly relaxed, and she dropped her knife onto the ground with a clatter as it touched the cold, cobblestone floor. She'd recognize that sweet, kind voice anywhere. Rose's face lit up only for an instant as Jack came over to her and sat on the hard bed with her. She felt him bend over to grab the fallen knife before tucking it back safely under the mattress. His blue eyes searched hers, whispering so many questions to her. What happened? How do I make it better? What can I do for you? Rose could just blink wearily at him and shake her head. There was nothing that he would do or say that would make anything better in this cold, cruel world that she called a home.

There were no women working at the facility, and Jack was the closest she had to one. Not that Rose was saying Jack was a woman, but he was the kindest worker here. His dirty-blonde hair fell carelessly into his gorgeous blue eyes, and Rose insecurely pulled her blanket up higher; her nightgown was just a mere man's shirt, one of Jack's shirts to be exact, yet it was too big. If it were not for Jack's shirt, Rose would be completely nude. It went down just past her lower thighs, and Rose admitted, it exposed a lot. You could see her breasts through the white fabric, and Jack seemed to be the only gentleman there to not look at that particular area. His kindness tended to go unnoticed around the asylum, the loony bin as some of the workers called it. Except for the patients. They noticed. Crazy as they might have been, they noticed. That's what counted had told her before. He wrapped his arms around Rose's shoulders and pulled her closer to him, so she was practically sitting on his lap. Breathing in Jack's familiar scent of the charcoal and fresh parchment, Rose exhaled slowly, feeling her whole body relax. Everything around her seemed to fade and being in Jack's arms almost made Rose think that she was at home. But home was a foreign word to Rose. She hadn't had one in many many years. Rose's grip fastened tighter around Jack's shirt, clutching him to her more, her heartbeat frantic and loud against his soft, steady one. The voices stirred in her head, taunting her, teasing her as they threatened to drag her down into the pit with them. She whimpered and buried her face in his chest as Jack protectively wrapped his arms tighter around her. Being a bit malnourished, Rose seemed so fragile, as if Jack hugged her too tight, she would break into pieces. "Nightmare?" he whispered, and Rose nodded. "It's alright… it's not real, Rosie…" Jack kissed the top of her head.

"That's just the thing; though… it was real… it was a bad memory…" Rose whispered, her voice shattering slightly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently, hugging Rose and burying his face into the crook of her shoulder. This was a question that Jack asked her routinely. The answer was never yes and Jack never pushed it. But he always asked in hopes that maybe this broken girl would one day open up to him and let him in. Jack didn't know the whole story of what happened to Rose, but he was determined to find out. He had met Rose merely a couple months ago, and she attached onto him like a bee collecting pollen from a flower. The breeze made Jack shiver, and he waited patiently for her response, feeling her body tremble from underneath his. What had happened to this girl that beat her down this bad? Rose shook her head, shifting her weight slightly. Jack stifled a sigh of disappointment, and he looked down at her, concern lingering on his face. Her eyes burned with tears, and Rose bit down on her bottom lip.

"No. not yet." Jack resisted the urge to hit his own head on the brick wall; sometimes Rose could be impossible. She never wanted to talk about her dreams with Jack, so he had no way to help her, and she had to suffer it all on her own. She was too stubborn to be convinced, and there was definitely no use arguing with her. Finally, he was grateful that he had taken the job offer at the asylum. It paid on minimum wage, but Jack was thankful. If he hadn't had this job, he never would've met Rose. The love of his life. In his mind. He learned to be with a girl who refused to look at him for awhile and when she did, her green eyes burned with a fear and hatred that all men were the same. Jack had proven her wrong. And somewhere in between there, he had fallen in love with the broken, crazy girl that was in a cell for unknown reasons.

Jack sighed and held her so close he could feel her heart beating. It wasn't in sync with his but rather beating ten to a dozen. He pushed a sweaty curl out of her face and kissed her parched lips, murmuring sweet nothings to the girl.

Jack held Rose for a while and sighed. Soon, her breathing slowed, and she snored lightly, and Jack smiled down at her. She was broken. This asylum didn't clear the anarchy in her mind. It made her feel worse. She had a jail cell rather than the comforts of a warm room with a bed with a soft pillow and awaiting blankets. If anything, being confined in here made Rose insane instead of being checked in here awhile ago. It broke Jack's heart to think of his lover being hurt. "I love you, Rose," he whispered as he held her. He waited and waited, but he got no response…