Note: So here is the second part. A friend of mine told me I should emphasize the fact the beginning of this story loosely supports FrUk, but this is ultimately USUK fanfiction. This story may or may not have other loosely implied pairings in the future.

ooOoo

The day progressed with difficulty, peppered with agitation by all the crew, but none more so than Matthias. After the reveal of the safe's contents, he had to battle with the hired team about money and expenses, this and that…. All fell on his shoulders, heavy like bags of flour where disappointment already settled itself in spite of his failure to recover the Heart of the Ocean where he was certain it had been locked away.

The team of technicians worked nearby, carefully extracting the muddy contents of the safe and separating the files into trays of water to keep them safe. Others worked in different areas of the storeroom to separate and clean other sunken treasures from the wreckage in awareness of Matthias' high level of frustration. Occasionally he would catch their glances, causing his chest to feel heavy like boiling water rising from the pit of his stomach, and the camera crew continued to barrage him with questions, demanding answers for their time and the expenses for the trip. Finally Matthias gave in, clenching his fingers and arm muscles tight in gesture of self control. "You send out what I tell you when I tell you. I'm going to sign all your paychecks, not that 60 Seconds shit. Now get set up for the uplink!" He demanded, running a stressed a hand through his bangs with a hefty sigh.

Nearby, a tall Swedish man was talking on the phone, as if trying to reassure the individual on the other end. His expression was rather unimpressed as he began holding the phone away from his ear and turned to Matthias. He then put his hand over the phone to mute the conversation. "… The partners want to know how we are doing."

Matthias gave a long groan and stormed towards his associate with a growl, "How's it going!? You know how it's going, Berwald, it's going like a friggen first date in prison, what'ya think to tell them?!" He grabbed the phone from Berwald's hand and instantly composed himself, becoming smooth and professional. "Hello there. Look, it wasn't…," he ground his teeth for a second, "…exactly in the safe, but! But, hey, don't worry, I got this. There's a ton other places it could be…. Y'know, like the floor debris in the suite, or in the father's room, or in the safe on C deck-…," he paused, slowly lowering the phone as something else caught his attention. He slowly moved to a nearby monitor, revealing grayscale displays of the safe's contents being cleaned to the rest of the ship and crew. "Hang on a second…," he muttered into the phone, setting it down a moment to get a better look at the work. The technician on screen proceeds to move a few slightly disintegrated envelopes to the opposite end of the small water tray, revealing a picture underneath.

It revealed a conte crayon sketch of a nude man. He was laying, relaxed and content with a casual modesty, his arms over his head, on what appeared to be the sketch of an antique couch with ornate designs resembling the structure of the broken pieces of furniture found in the room of the safe. The picture itself somehow survived the year of underwater decay, as all that was damaged were the chalky edges of the old paper. Matthias couldn't help but feel an artistic attraction to the drawing- or at least to whosever hands drew it. The model himself seemed to be drawn in high regard…, as the cross hatching was done in such a way that it almost seemed he was surrounded by a pool of light that radiated from his young eyes. As the technicians continued to clean, mud was washed from the bottom corner, where was scrawled messily, 'April 14, 1912. AJ.'

Something above all else stood out to Matthias, as he suddenly scrambles through a pile of papers on a nearby table for a reference. He gives the sketch a final look, observing closely the only accessory the model is wearing: a diamond necklace with one large stone hanging at its center, before turning back to the reference in his hands. A complex setting with a massive central stone which is nearly heart shaped. Matthias paused, taking in a deep breath. "Well I'll be damned."

It didn't take long for the news to pass over the world of the Keldysh Intercut ship and its crews' findings. Before the world knew it, CNN was on board to honor and interview Matthias' accomplishments and work in his field of expertise: sunken and lost treasures of ruin. The satellite feed carried from Europe to America, straight from their location in the Northern Atlantic. The reports fed into the homes of many, but little did Matthias know it, the research and news report would soon make the final change of one man's old life, and in turn effect the lives of all those around him.

This man was no other than Arthur Jones Kirkland; one of the last living survivors if Titanic's wreckage in 1912. He was living in a small, rustic home with a large garden and scenery of the salty ocean from his favorite window seat, to carry out the remaining years of his long life in peace. Classic for the home of an old New Englander in America, his shelves were lined with little bobbles and photographs of a million memories and moments past lived, and stories to forever retell to his children, and his children's children. None of his kin, however, were more entertained than Peter Kirkland, his grandson in his early forties, who made time daily to spend time with his grandfather, and to assist him with his daily living in his old age (which he was much grateful for). That day, Peter had been there to help take care of little odds-and-end chores that Arthur wasn't feeling well enough to do, including washing the laundry, watering the rose and herb gardens, and feeding the few animals Arthur had as consistent company.

Arthur, at the time, was finishing a piece of embroidery as a gift to his daughter for her coming birthday the next month. Often while he worked on his little hobbies, he'd leave the television on as noise, to keep himself awake and focused. It was a quiet, calm day on the northern Atlantic shores, and there was nothing to expect on the noon news other than the occasional few crimes and fires, or the exciting discoveries the world broadcast has to offer.

"This is a live CNN satellite feed from the deck of the Keldysh Intercut with the CNN studio," the announcer on the television began. "Danish treasure hunter, Matthias Kohler, is best known for finding Spanish gold in sunken galleons in the Caribbean. Now he is using deep submergence technology to work two and a half miles at another famous wreck… the one and only Titanic herself. He is with us live now from a Russian research ship in the middle of the Atlantic. Hello, Matthias?"

The screen cuts to Matthias on his ship's deck surrounded by crew busily working, a microphone in his hand. "Yes, hej! Y'know, I wouldn't say Titanic is just a ship wreck. Titanic is THE shipwreck, she's the goldmine. I've planned this expedition for three whole years, and my crew and I are out here discovering some amazing things! Things that will have enormous historical and educational value."

Arthur perked up, turning his attention to the television. His body, although sunken and small with old age under his clothes, worked as if in perfect youth as he moved himself to a chair near the television. He sat down, leaning forward and watching the screen closely, his eyes as green and youthful as a man 70 years younger. No sooner did he move did Peter come over, curious to the sudden change in interest from his sharp focus on the embroidery. "What's wrong, grandpa?"

"Peter, will you turn that up for me?"

Peter paused, looking at the screen for a moment. "…Titanic." He quickly turned the volume up for his grandfather, and sat down in a stool next to him.

The CNN reporter continued on the screen, "but it's no secret education is not your main purpose, Mr. Kohler. You're a well known treasure hunter, so what treasure are you hunting? This expedition of your's is the center of a storm of controversy over salvage rights and even ethics. Many are even calling you a grave robber."

Matthias grinned, unaffected by the bold allegations. "Nobody called the artifacts from King Tut's tomb grave robbing. I have museum trained experts here with me, making sure this stuff is preserved and catalogued. Just look at this drawing we found only today," he begins, showing the cameraman to the monitor overlooking the cleaning and cataloging of the found artifacts, including the nude drawing, "a piece of paper that'd been underwater for a solid 84 years, and we were able to preserve it in one piece. Should this have remained trapped under the sea for eternity, where we can now bring it to the surface for the world to enjoy now?"

Arthur's jaw dropped, staring agape at the picture on the screen. He put a hand over his mouth, silent for a few moments in bewilderment as Peter stared on in confusion of his grandfather's shock. Finally, Arthur mumbled lightly, "…Bloody hell, I'll be God damned."

The interview was long over, the newscast unable to break Matthias' will for the world to mock and surge at. They were beginning to make another descent down to the wreckage, now more eager than any of their previous trips downward. It was within their grasp, and Matthias would become a legend: the discoverer of The Heart of the Ocean. He could feel the excitement bubbling up inside him that he could barely keep from laughing out loud in his confident glee. He began climbing into the sub again, following Emil and Lukas heartily when a small man raced up to him.

"Matthias, you have a satellite call!" He yelled in a rush, his English thick with a Finnish accent.

"Geez, Tino, we're launching! See these sumbsibles about to go in the water? Just take a message!"

Tino smiled wide, his body fluttering with a secret excitement. "No, Matthias, you'll want to take this call, just trust me!" He handed a slightly annoyed Matthias the phone, running the cable with it.

Matthias sighed, putting the phone to his ear. "Hej, Matthias Kohler here. What can I do for you?"

"Arthur Kirkland," returned the caller.

"…okay, Mr. Kirkland?"

"I was simply curious as to whether or not you had found The Heart of the Ocean yet, Mr. Kohler."

Matthias almost dropped the phone, looking up at Tino with shock. Tino grinned back and laughed at his captain's fumbling, "I knew you'd want to take this call, Matty."

Matthias cleared his throat and continued, "alright, Arthur. You've got my attention now. Can you tell me who the man in the drawing is?"

"Of course." Arthur smiled and leaned back in his chair as a chuckle escaped him, "that lad in the portrait is me."

Before anyone could question the decision, Matthias had the man being flown over the vast Atlantic with his grandson by a Sea Stallion Helicopter to their research ship, much to the dismay of many of his close crewmates. Lukas followed Matthias with distraught as they began lowering only one of the sumbsibles into the ocean this time. "Matt, he is a liar. It is Anastasia all over again."

Tino, on the other hand seemed thrilled to have the mysterious gentleman aboard their vessel. "Hey! Matty, they're already inbound! Quick flight that was!"

Matthias gave Tino a small nod and began towards the landing deck to greet his guests, still followed by a persistent Lukas. "Matt, he said his name is Arthur Kirkland. Arthur died on the Titanic, at the age of twenty three. If he lived, he'd be over a hundred years old."

"He is going to be a hundred and six next month," Matthias replied coyly.

"So he is an old liar. I did some research and traced him as far back as the 20's…. He was working as an actor in L.A. An actor, Matt. His name was recorded as Arthur Jones before he changed his named to Arthur Jones Kirkland. He got married to a woman and had two children. His wife is now deceased. There are a lot of reasons for someone to want to fake this out."

Matthias paused and watched as the elderly man and his grandson exited the loud helicopter. He yelled to Lukas over the blaring sound of the vehicle's blades, "and everybody who knew about the diamond is dead or on this ship. But that man knows about it, and I want to hear what he has to say. Got it, Lukas?" Lukas stayed silent in agitated defeat.

Arthur began unpacking immediately upon being shown to his small utilitarian room on the ship, where he'd be staying until he and his grandson were dismissed. Peter helped him place an assortment of photographs, general vintage images of some of his adventures, his children, and his late wife. Matthias stood in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, watching the older gentleman for some time before softly asking, "is your stateroom okay?"

Arthur smiled, "marvelous. Have you met my grandson, Peter? He is a good lad, he takes care of me at home."

Peter smiled and rubbed a hand through Arthur's dusty gray locks. "Yes, grandpa, we met on the deck just a bit ago, remember?"

"Oh, that's right." Arthur frowned, straightening the pictures on his stand as a small, Scottish fold cat jumps up, purring under his hand. "I have to have my pictures when I travel, and my cat of course. He keeps me company, too."

Matthias smiles, amused by the man's general disposition. "Is there anything else you need, Arthur?"

Arthur paused a moment, old emerald eyes scanning the photographs once more before he turned around and murmured, "I should like to see my portrait, if you wouldn't mind."

Arthur and Peter were escorted to the sealing room, where some of the finished artifacts were being incubated and set for future preserving. Arthur stared at his drawing, as it sat in the tray of water, only kept preserved by being completely immersed as it had been for 84 years. Yet for something that had been forever drowning for years, in a dark vault at the bottom of the ocean, it seemed to sway and ripple in the tray as if somehow alive and breathing. Arthur held his forehead, confronting the emotions of April 14th, and took a step back. However, the emotions weren't negative…. He swore he could almost see the blue eyes of the artist as they studied him over the sketchbook's edge. Arthur smiled.

Matthias held a reference of the diamond necklace in his hand. "Louis the Sixteenth wore a great stone, called the Blue Diamond of the Crown, which disappeared in 1792. Theory has it the diamond was cut into a heart-like shape, and became 'Le Coeur de la Mer.' The Heart of the Ocean. It'd be worth more than the Hope Diamond today."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It was a bloody heavy thing." He pointed to the portrait, "I didn't wear jewelry, I just wore it this once."

Peter laughed, "you actually believe this is you, grandpa?"

Arthur seemed flabbergasted Peter would even question him. "This is me, Peter. I wasn't too bad looking back then was I?" Peter stared at the drawing. He wasn't sure what to believe- especially that his grandfather would ever lay down nude for someone to draw. He knew his grandfather had a secretive history of doing strange and impulsive things time to time during his youth, but he'd never thought he'd be witness to one of the outcomes.

Matthias grinned, holding out a piece of paper to Peter. "I tracked it down through insurance records… an old claim settled under terms of absolute secrecy."

"Someone named Bonnefoy, I'd imagine," Arthur chimed.

"Right," continued Matthias with joy, "Nathan Bonnefoy. For a diamond necklace his son Francis Bonnefoy bought in France for his business partner… you… a week before he sailed on Titanic. The claim was filed right after the sinking. So the diamond had to have gone down with the ship. See the date?"

Matthias handed the paper to Peter who read it quietly, "April 14th, 1912."

"So if your grandpa is who he says he is, he was wearing the diamond the day Titanic sank," he turned to Arthur, "and that makes you my new best friend. I will happily compensate for any information that would lead to its recovery."

"I don't want your money, Mr. Kohler. I understand first hand how difficult it for someone who greatly cares for money to give a bit away."

Matthias stared, skeptically. "You don't want anything?" It was a wild notion.

Arthur moved to stare down at the portrait again. His eyes grazed heavily over the scribbled initials 'AJ' in the bottom right corner. Something stirred inside him. "… If anything I tell you is of value, you may return to me my drawing."

"Deal." Matthias couldn't have asked for a better break. He could care less for that old scibble, it wasn't worth anything. Arthur and Peter were immediately directed to a table on the opposite end of the room. Matthias seemed to be beaming as he gestured to an assortment of antique artifacts drying on the tabletop, varying from mundane to incredibly valuable. "These are a couple of things recovered from your old stateroom on the Titanic."

With a trembling hand, Arthur reached for a tortoise shell hand mirror, inlaid with small pearls. He caressed it with wonder. "This is my old mirror. I'd carried it everywhere, tt was my late mother's, you know…," he smiled wide at Peter, "how absolutely extraordinary." He didn't think that he'd ever have the ability to see these things again. Tod hold them in his hand was like handling a fine gem- unsure if it would just collapse in your hands from your own ignorance to handle it correctly. He glanced at his reflection, green eyes flickering over the wrinkles of his face before he set it face down. He wasn't accustomed to seeing that face in the mirror. "My reflection has changed a tad bit since then…." His attention was then passed to an old violin face, broken apart from the ocean's wreckage. He picked it up gingerly, as it was obviously fragile without its mantle to hold it together. "This belonged to my father. He wanted to go back for it, he caused quite a fuss." Arthur paused, a rush of emotions taking him over. His hands trembled ever so slightly more as he averted his gaze downward.

Matthias approached Arthur and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Ready to return to Titanic?"

Arthur and Peter were finally escorted to the imaging room. A darkened room lined with TV monitors. Images of the wreckage from the single sub down below and the ROV filled the screens. Arthur stared raptly at all the different images, enthralled by one in particular. A moving image of the ship's bow railing. His green eyes widened in mesmerization. Matthias watched the change, curious, noting everything that Arthur said or did in case he needed it. What could be so special about a railing?

Tino was quick to join in, his young, energetic self excited to be a part of Arthur's rediscovery of Titanic. "This is all live from 12,000 feet below. The bow there is stuck in the bottom like an axe from the heavy impact. oh oh, I can run a simulation for you!"

Matthias growled lightly, "Arthur might not want to see this, Tino."

"No no, it is fine. I am highly curious," Arthur broke in, staring intently at Tino's simulation monitor while Peter found him a seat. Tino begins the computer animated graphics of the ship's wreckage. His narration went smoothly over Arthur's head, however, as his eyes flicked over the computer animated images of the tragedy moving in sped motion. He could feel his heart galloping in his chest as the media displayed from the ship's break in two to its heavy decent to ocean's floor, cringing as it crashed into a pathetic mass on the screen. Everything was so fast…. "People these days never slow down for anything. I don't quite remember the experience being quite so clinical, but I credit your … 'forensic analysis.'"

"Will you share it with us?" Matthias questioned.

Arthur stood up on shaky legs, nerve struck from the presentation. He slowly moved to the monitors on the opposite wall, still displaying images the ROV was taking from the wreckage. However, he could see things others couldn't. He always had been able to…. Every image was something distinctly different to him. He could hear ghostly waltz music tuning in his old ears. The faint echoing of an officer's voice calling in the chaotic distance of screaming and crying, 'women and children only.' Screaming faces and kneeling bodies praying to the dark heavens above flashed before his eyes… impressions. Memories lost and found in the dark. A child, maybe three years old… standing knee deep in water in the middle of an endless corridor. Alone… lost… crying. Shaken by the flood if images and memories, his eyes well up with tears, and his puts his head down quietly sobbing.

Peter immediately found himself at his grandfather's side, holding his shoulders in protectiveness of his loved one. "I'm taking him to his room, this is enough for today."

"No!" Arthur shouted, throwing his weak arms downward in emotion. Peter stood in shock for a moment, unfamiliar with this side of Arthur- this sense of desperation.

Matthias' eyes softened, along with those of the crew who watched the emotional display. "…Tell us, Arthur. Tell us what happened."

Arthur remained quiet for another few moments, watching the monitors like a zoning child. His green eyes continued to flick over the scenery the monitors displayed from the ROV deep below. All things lost, disheveled, yet so familiar and alive in his mind and in his heart. The rust draping from the railings couldn't seem to overwhelm the image of those railing glimmering new against the sun, and all the memories associated. His heart felt heavy, as did it strain his emotions in a sense of anguish. "…it has been 84 years…," he whispered in reply.

"Just tell us what you can."

Arthur turned around suddenly, somehow smiling under the red of his wet, emerald eyes. The expression, the contortion of battling emotions displayed on his face stirred even Matthias. "I am trying to but you need to be quiet to listen, don't you?" Arthur sighed and sat down, taking in a deep breath and scanning the faces of all those in the room. They were all so young, so unknowing. There was a story there, trapped in his aching heart as he fulfilled his life as promised- somehow he knew today would be when the walls were breached, and he finally let the secrets go down with the ship. "…It has been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint." He bit his lip, looking down, as if visualizing in perfect detail the things he knew. "The china has never been used. The sheets had never been slept in." Matthias reached over and switched on a minirecorder, placing it on the table next to him, and made himself comfortable in a chair near Arthur as he continued. "Titanic was called the ship of dreams… and it was... It really was."

Alright, so that's done with. The prologue is out of the way, now we'll get into what you're all actually waiting for. Thanks for reading, stay tuned.