Chapter 7: Remembrance

Never before had Josephine's feet felt so heavy; she felt like it took her an eternity to get home. She was a human waterfall by the amount of tears pouring out of her eyes. When she finally reached the door, her hand fumbled on the knob before she was able to open in. She ran in, in a daze as she crossed the room, closed the bedroom door, and fell onto her bed, sobbing like she never had before.

...

Once in the Waldorf Astoria hotel, Cal stood at the window in their lavish room, deep in thought. He rubbed his jawline in a desperate kind of way; he needed to know where she was.

And, most importantly, he needed her to know he was sorry.

Every day for the past seventeen years, he wondered why there was no Rose DeWitt Bukater on the list. Now, looking down at the newspaper in his hands, he realized why.

Maybe there was no one named Rose DeWitt Bukater on the survivor list, but there was one name that Cal felt absolutely rash for never checking: Rose Dawson.

Rose's eyes began to adjust to the bright light that shone on her eyes. Groaning, she closed them again, trying to relive the dream that Jack Dawson was alive and not dead in New York City. Sighing, she rolled over on her side and felt a giant pain stab through her heart: she had left Josephine alone and unaware on her whereabouts. What was I thinking? she thought. Does she think I ran away, leaving her alone? Oh God, I must get home immediately!

Rose grabbed the ice pack on her forehead and put it on the mahogany coffee table next to the couch she was laying on. Where am I?

"Oh, good, you're awake!"

When her eyes finally stopped seeing double, she blinked. Was that Jack's voice she heard? Shaking her head, she straightened up and sat on the couch, putting her legs on the floor, trying to get up, and responded, "Thank you so much for seeing to me. I had no idea what came over me! Now, I must-"

Her eyes widened. Was that really him holding the tray with the cup of tea? Never before had she seen such a sight from him, so formal! She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry. She felt her legs go weak and her head go dizzy again, and so she plopped right back down on the couch, opened her eyes, and screamed.

She screamed until she felt her lungs burning. Jack came up behind her, put the tray down on the coffee table, and tried to calm her down, telling her everything was all right and she was fine, but she just kept shaking her head, yelling, "You're supposed to be dead!"

There came a pounding on the wall, and a rude woman's voice yelled, "Keep it down in there!"

Jack, seeing that Rose was still screaming, put his hand over her mouth. She stopped long enough for him to say, "Keep it down, Rose, before we both get kicked out," and then, to his surprise, she bit him.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, pulling back and examining the teeth marks now imprinted in his skin. For the time it took him to do this, Rose had gotten up from the couch and was searching for a way out. She was breathing heavily and hot tears were streaming down her cheeks. This is a dream. This is all just a dream! He can't be alive... He just can't be!

A gentle hand grabbed her arm, and Rose felt like an electric shock had went through her body. She was immediately pacified, her breathing going back to normal, and the tears were blocked by the calmness that overcame her. She closed her eyes, it felt so good. Before she knew she said it, she whispered, "I've missed you."

Jack smiled at her words, which came with so much longing. She began to sway, and it took Jack all his strength not to swear as she keeled over and fainted again.

...

Meanwhile, Josephine was still sobbing into her ragged pillow, trying to plug up her tears. But anytime she thought of Galen, she just sobbed harder. She thought thinking bad things about him would help her, but just the thought of him made her cry.

It took her awhile before she contained herself. She thought of Rose, and how she had not been home all day, and her thoughts wandered from Galen to where her mother might be. Gulping, she began to cry again, this time for being so cruel to Rose when she had only done what was best for her.

...

"Rose. Rose, wake up!"

Rose sighed contently, memories of her previous life with Jack overwhelming her dreams. She smiled every time he smiled, and she laughed whenever he laughed. She never wanted to wake up.

Jack was hovering over her, worried since she had not woken up yet. He raised an eyebrow when she started rolling around, laughing and smiling at nothing at all. He left the cool, wet towel on her forehead and sat down on a chair, rubbing his head and closing his eyes. He felt a tension headache coming on, not only because Rose was becoming hard to deal with, but also because he tried to come up with a solution to why she was acting so strange in the first place. Never before had he seen her so... outrageous.

There were so many questions to ask her that also crammed his brain, almost to the point of exploding. Where had she been all these years? How had she survived? Why were her clothes and hygiene so poor?

Poor. Jack examined her again, and a thought in his brain lit up like a light bulb: she was poor. And she must've been for a very long time, from the looks of her. Guilt washed over Jack like a giant wave.

She's like this because of me, he thought. Because I made her leave her other life.

The difference between the past and the present was that he did have something to offer her now. A decent amount of cash, shelter and food, and a shoulder to cry on when times got bad. He hoped things never went like that, but the only reason he'd never dated or married again was because his heart still belonged to Rose. The only thought that strangled him was if her heart belonged to someone else now, because, well, she assumed he was dead all these years.

Rose now lay still, and it caught his breath at how beautiful she still was. Dirty and torn up a little, but to him she still held that flame he loved - no, loves - about her. She reminded him of the Sleeping Beauty.

But if I tried to kiss her, he thought, she'd probably attack me.

From her reaction to him, Jack knew that Rose just needed some time to get used to his existence. Then she would be fine and calm. But for now, Jack had to work on it. She still seemed a little on the edge, and he didn't want to intimidate her with anything. That included showing great amounts of affection and scaring her.

As he bent down to take the towel off and put a hand on her forehead to check her temperature, Rose's eyes shot open, and before Jack knew what was happening, she had pinned him down on the floor.

Boy, does she have a grip!

Her sparkling green eyes seemed to pierce his soul and mind. She can read it, can't she? He thought of how much he loved her, and how much he still did, and how he wished every day she would come back to him. But her reaction didn't change. Her eyes didn't light up, her lips didn't smile, and Jack's hopes fell.

"Who are you?" she asked, not letting go of him nor getting off of him.

Jack gulped. There was something about her voice that showed him she was serious. Does she really not know who I am?

"Rose, it's me. Jack Dawson." He struggled to get up, but Rose pushed him right back down, sending a pain up his arm.

"Prove it!"

Jack sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. "I'm from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, and I've been orphaned since I was fifteen. We met on the Titanic... Remember, Rose? You had appeared on the upper decks and caught me staring at you. I couldn't take my eyes off of you, and I still thought about you when you left. I saved you after you tried to attempt suicide by jumping off the back of the ship, because you didn't want to go through with the arranged marriage your mother forced you into. Your father had died, leaving your family in debt, and you had to marry a man named Cal Hockley. You slipped after you tried to climb back over, and you lied that you had only slipped after trying to see the propellers, and I had saved you. I was invited to dine with you the next day, and the next morning you came to apologize, and we talked most of the day away. I taught you how to spit like a man, remember? And I promised I'd take you to the pier in Santa Monica, where we'd ride the roller coasters until we throw up and drink cheap beer-"

"Enough!"

Jack had been so lost in the memories, he hadn't noticed that Rose had slackened on her grip, and she was now curled up in front of the couch, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. She was so into the story as well, the memories, that she had not noticed the tears until Jack mentioned the promises he made her. She remembered everything as though it were yesterday. She felt more tears threatening to burst, and so she put her head on her knees and cried.

Jack watched her shoulders heave and her body shake, and he felt more guilt wash over him. "Rose," he whispered, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He felt her tense, but she didn't object, so he left it there. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, Jack, it's okay," she said, lifting her head and wiping her tears away. "I asked for proof, and I got it." She then smiled at him, her eyes glistening with happiness. "It's really you?"

Jack nodded, not able to hold his smile. He watched Rose laugh, a laugh he remembered too well, and he knew the previous tension between them had broken. "What are you laughing about?" he asked.

"Oh, just at how silly I was being. Of course it's you!" She was in his arms before either knew it.

Jack was the first to pull apart, and they stared into each other's eyes, but only for a moment. Rose broke it, wiping her eyes and nose on her arm, and said, "I'm sorry, but I have to go. Josephine must be wondering where I am and-"

Jack put a finger to her lips, and said, "I'll go get her. You stay here and wash up. Where do you live?"

Rose hesitated, wondering if she should tell him. He must already know you're poor. "I live in the poorer section of the city, a mile or so from the park. We live in the only apartment building in the area. Floor three, room twelve."

Jack nodded, repeating what she said in his head. "Got it. Now, Rose, the bathroom is right down the hall. Don't be afraid to ask the neighbor to borrow some clothing."

"The one that yelled at us?" Rose was shocked.

Jack laughed, and Rose blushed at how she had even thought of such a thing. "No, the other one. She'll be glad to help. Just ask for a simple day dress and a night gown."

Rose looked and him, curious. She raised an eyebrow. "A night gown?"

"I'm not going to let you stay in that dump. You'll be living with me now, all right?" She only blinked at him emotionlessly. Suddenly uncomfortable, he blushed and added, "Uh, is that okay with you?"

Rose nodded, smiled, then winked. "That's totally fine with me."

Jack laughed. "Okay. I'll be back in an hour."

Before Jack left, though, he just had one question he had to ask. "Rose?"

"Hm?"

"What relation is Josephine to you?"

Rose looked up at him, and she went a little uneasy. "She's… She's my daughter."

Jack's stomach fell, though he already knew the answer. He opened the door and mumbled, "Oh..." before exiting the apartment.

When he closed the door, Rose got up from the floor and whispered, "Our daughter."

...

Cal appeared at the front desk of the hotel with a huge desire. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Do you know where I can find a book of the residents of this city?"

The clerk nodded politely and handed him a heavy phone book full of addresses and names, quickly returning to his work. Flipping through it, he found the Ds. "Dawson… Dawson…," he murmured, his blood turning cold by what he saw.

Right there, in black ink, was a name that Cal hadn't seen on the survivor list, nor wanted to see again: Jack Dawson.

Josephine had stopped crying by the time Jack arrived. She was pacing the living room, panicking. Where had her mother gone? That's why it was such a relief to her when there came a knock at the door.

She ran for the knob, but then stopped. Why would Mama have to knock? It's her home.

She opened it, and there stood Jack. "Come on," he said. "Pack all of your things. You're going to be living with me now."