The rush of steam venting from the Titanic's funnels hammered at the windows of the First Class Lounge, but failed to drown out the recital of Alexander's Ragtime Band that the ship's musicians were playing to keep the passengers calm. Even more passengers were congregated on the A-Deck landing of the Grand Staircase, dressed in a variety of evening attire, dressing gowns and nightwear. As instructed, the Haddocks had exited the cabin and were making their way to the Boat Deck when they'd met up with Pitchiner.
"It's a lot of bother over nothing." the Englishman muttered as they walked. "Doing everything by the bloody book."
"Mind your language, Pitchiner." Stoick intoned. As they paused at the flight of stairs leading upward, Hiccup glanced over his shoulder in time to see Thomas Andrews entering the landing from the direction of the lounge, his face haunted and walking in a daze. The younger Haddock reached out and grabbed the shipbuilder's arm, turning him to face each other. The sudden contact broke Andrews from his spell and he looked surprised to see Hiccup.
"Mr. Andrews?" the Irishman's eyes were filled with remorse. "I saw the iceberg... and I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth."
A passenger laughing nearby caused Andrews to cautiously lead Hiccup away from the staircase.
"The ship will sink." a pit of dread formed in Hiccup's stomach at the certainty in Andrews' voice.
"For certain?" Stoick and Pitchiner had also heard the shipbuilder's report, with the colour draining from the elder Haddock's face.
"Yes... In an hour or so, all of this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic." Andrews responded, looking up and around at the staircase and dome.
"What?" Pitchiner stammered, disbelieving.
"Please, tell only who you must... I don't want to be responsible for a panic." Andrews requested. "And get to a boat... quickly! Don't wait. You... remember what I told you about the boats?"
"Yes." Hiccup nodded solemnly. "I understand."
The shipbuilder nodded silently in return and walked away, leaving the young man to digest the news.
The fight had gone out of Jack by the time he was led into the Master-at-Arms' Office on E-Deck, his protestations and struggling had proven futile against the unforgiving metal of the handcuffs and of the strength of the crewmen who'd led him there.
The office, like many of the areas on board that weren't designated First Class, was painted in that now-familiar gloss white. Furnishing the room were a pair of solidly built desks, an equally solid-looking cupboard, a wall cabinet and a few shelves. Immediately to Jack's right as he entered was another door which led to a room furnished with wooden berths. The burly blond Scotsman silently led the American over to the far side of the room, towards a wall which revealed that the office was perched against the outer hull of the ship.
"Over here, son." the coxswain instructed as he unlocked one of the cuffs, indicating that he wanted the artist to stand with one arm either side of a pipe that nearly ran the height of the room. As the Scotsman prepared to relock the cuffs, a crewman appeared breathlessly at the door.
"Sir, they need you up in the Second Class Purser's Office... there's a big mob up there."
The Master-at-Arms glanced across at Lovejoy, who had followed them below decks.
"Go on, I'll keep an eye on him." the valet stated calmly, pull back one breast of his jacket to reveal a gleaming 1911 Colt .45 pistol in a holster.
"Aye, right." the Scotsman nodded, locking the handcuffs and dropping the key in Lovejoy's hand. As the two crewmen disappeared, the grim-faced Englishman eased himself into a swivel chair beside one of the desks, prepared to guard Jack for as long as was needed.
An unknown amount of time had passed since the Master-at-Arms had departed, and the American had quickly become eager for a distraction from his watchman. With as much freedom as the cuffs and pipe allowed, the artist repositioned himself to look out of the single porthole on the wall beside him. At first there had been nothing beyond the glass but darkness, but as the unmeasured time stretched on a sliver of water began to rise up at an angle.
The sound of metal rolling along wood drew him back to his guard. Lovejoy had removed a single bullet from the Colt's clip, set it at one end of the nearest desk, and let it roll back toward him where it eventually dropped into the his hand. The Englishman repeated the exercise once more, before returning the bullet to the clip. As a final measure of menace, he slipped the clip back into the gun with a welcoming click, whilst giving Jack a cold, thin smile.
"You know, I do believe this ship may sink." he stood up from the chair, picking up the key and throwing it into the air with a flourish. Jack watched as he the valet deposited the key in his pocket, before exiting and closing the door behind him.
"Step aboard now! Step aboard!" Second Officer Lightoller instructed as women and children were being loaded into lifeboat No. 6, on the port side near the Officers' Quarters. Nearby, Molly Brown did her best to coax her fellow passengers into the boat.
"Come on sister, you heard the man!" she gently instructed as she helped a woman climb in. Stood in the growing crowd on deck were Stoick, Hiccup and Pitchiner, who waited to find out when they could leave the ship. Growing impatient, the Englishman stepped forward, a friendly smile on his face.
"Any room for a gentleman, gentlemen?" Pitchiner enquired.
"Only women at this time, sir." the crewman responded politely.
The Englishman rejoined the Haddocks. "Hopefully the boats won't be too crowded, once we're allowed on."
The indifference in Pitchiner's voice unleashed something inside of Hiccup.
"Oh shut up!" the Englishman looked aghast, whilst Stoick had also been taken back by his son's raised voice.
"Hamish-"
"Don't you understand?!" the younger Scotsman roughly grabbed the subject of his anger by the shoulders. "The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats, not enough by half." he cast his gaze at the passengers stood around them. "Half the people on this ship are going to die."
"Not the better half." Pitchiner answered smugly. "Too bad your father didn't want to keep that drawing, I imagine it'll be worth a lot more by morning."
Hiccup's eyes widened as the realisation dawned on him. "You unimaginable bastard." he scowled at the Englishman, who smirked coldly back at him.
Above them a distress rocket burst into a brilliant explosion of white light, almost as if it had been the result of the decision Hiccup had made in that moment.
"Goodbye, Father."
"Hamish?" Stoick's voiced trailed behind him as the young Scotsman began to jog away from the boat, in the direction of the Grand Staircase. He only stopped when a hand painfully grabbed his arm. Expecting his father, he was surprised to see Pitchiner attempting to restrain him, the Englishman's normally composed face twisted into a snarl of anger.
"Where are you going? To him?!" he barked. "To be a shirt lifter to a gutter rat?"
"Get off of me!" Hiccup shouted, trying to yank his arm free.
"No!" Pitchiner bellowed. "I said no!"
On instinct, Hiccup balled up the fist of his left hand and launched it. His knuckles landed against the Englishman's right cheek, sending him backwards in surprise. Pitchiner looked at him with the eyes of a wild, wounded animal as he covered the injured part of his face. Hiccup paused long enough to realise what he'd done, and to savour the reaction before he departed at a rapid pace.
The young Scotsman's adrenaline was still rushing as he tore through the hallways of First Class, looking for the one man on board who would be able to help him find Jack.
"Mr. Andrews! Mr. Andrews!" he shouted as he reached a T-junction. His heart leaped in his chest as soon as he spotted the shipbuilder going from one cabin to the next, checking for passengers. "Thank God! Where would the Master-at-Arms take someone under arrest?"
"What?" Andrews asked in confusion. "You have to get to a boat right away!" he urged.
"No!" Hiccup insisted. "I'm doing this with or without your help, Sir... but without it'll take longer."
Andrews' face softened, realising he wasn't going to succeed in dissuading the young man.
"Take the elevator to the very bottom, go to the left... down the crewman's passage, then go right and left again at the stairs... you'll come to a long corridor..."
"Help!" Jack bellowed, banging the handcuffs against the pipe for extra noise. "Can anybody hear me?!" despite his efforts, only silence responded. "Hello?! Help me! Help me! Can anybody hear me!" he rested his head against the pipe in frustration. "This is going to be bad."
The sound of gurgling drew his attention and he turned to witness a steady stream of water pour in from underneath the door and roll into the room.
"Oh shit! Oh shit!" in a desperate hope to find a second key to the cuffs, Jack had dragged the nearest desk towards him. Although the search had proven futile, the piece of furniture gave him something to clamber onto to escape the water spreading across the floor of the office. Planting his feet against the hull, he pulled ferociously at the pipe in case he could dislodge it.
Hiccup charged across the B-Deck landing of the Grand Staircase, pushing past passengers to get to the lifts behind the stairway. As he rounded the corner he spotted a operator trying to avoid an argument with one of the First Class passengers.
"I'm sorry but the lifts are closed!"
"I do not care what you think sir!" the female passenger protested as the young Scotsman neared the entrance. Spotting the new arrival the operator put his arm out across the entrance to the lift.
"I'm sorry sir, but the lifts are closed!" he insisted. The denial of entry was like a rag to a bull, and Hiccup saw red. With a forceful grab of the operator's jacket, he pushed him back into the lift and roughly against the back wall of the car.
"I'm through being polite God damn it! Now take me down!" without a word the operator, fear in his eyes, threw the level, sending the lift into descent. "E-Deck." Hiccup instructed more calmly as he closed the safety gates.
The floor of the office was now completely submerged, with more water steadily pouring into the room. Jack tugged at his handcuffs, trying to see if he could slide them off.
"Come on!" he pleaded. "Come on, come on!" he pulled at them like an animal caught in a trap, the flesh of his wrists reddened as he winced in pain. "Agghhh!" he cried, abandoning the plan.
The lift descended at a mockingly slow pace. As D-Deck finally slipped from view Hiccup glanced down at E-Deck, just in time to see that the landing was a foot deep in water. Cold liquid flooded into the lift, sending the Scotsman and operator scrambling backward.
"I'm going back up!" he yelped as he reached for the lever.
"No!" Hiccup bellowed as he grabbed the operator's arm and pushed him backwards into a chair. Pulling the gates aside, the younger Haddock waded out into the flooded landing, trying to get his bearings.
"Come back!" the operator pleaded. As soon as he realised his words were useless, he retreated back into the lift and grabbed the lever. "I'm going back up! I'm going back up!" Hiccup paused, watching as gravity pulled the Atlantic waters out of the lift, creating a waterfall.
Now alone, he returned to his task. "Crew passage... crew passage!" he muttered until he spotted a corridor leading from the landing, a "crew only" sign above it. He hesitated only for a moment before he plunged forward, following Andrews' instructions.
The water lapped at Hiccup's waist as he reached the crew staircase. He crossed the landing as quickly as he could, throwing aside a drifting desk drawer as he charged forward into a darkened corridor. At the end of the dark corridor he paused a junction with a longer one to check his location.
"Jack?!" he shouted desperately, feeling overwhelmed. With no response to help guide him, he took the left turn into the longer corridor. As he walked the lights began to flicker ominously prompting him to shout again. "Jack!"
The artist glanced towards the door, uncertain of whether he'd actually heard someone calling his name.
"Jack!" the voice was louder this time, closer, and unmistakeable who it belonged to. "Jack?!"
"Hiccup!" Jack shouted at the top of his lungs.
Hiccup spun on the spot, trying to pinpoint where Jack's voice had come from.
"Jack?!"
"Hiccup! Hiccup, I'm in here!" the voice called out, followed closely by the sound of metal rattling against metal.
"Jack!" the young Scotsman rushed back down the flooding corridor until a door appeared on his left. Pushing it open he found the American chained to a pipe, desperation written all over his body. "Jack! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" grabbing Overland, he gave his lover as strong a hug as he could manage.
"That guy Lovejoy put it in my pocket!"
"I know, I know!" Hiccup responded apologetically.
"You're going to have to find a spare key, alright? Look in that cabinet right there!" Jack did his best to point to a cabinet filled with keys on the wall of the office. The Scotsman crossed the room, throwing open the cabinet doors. "A little silver one!"
Hiccup's hands brushed across the different keys, nothing matched Jack's description.
"These are all brass ones!"
"Check right here!" Jack stretched a sodden foot out, pointing at the desk nearest to him. The younger man started pulling the drawers out to search their contents. "Hiccup?" the Scotsman looked up from his search. "How did you find out I didn't do it?"
"I didn't... I just realised I already knew." Hiccup responded, a shaky smile growing on his face.
"Keep looking!"
Hiccup tore through the rest of the first desk, and eventually moved onto the second. Having found no key, he dropped the final drawer into the water in frustration.
"I can't find a key." he fumed for a moment, before he glanced up at Jack.
"Hiccup, it's going to be okay." Jack did his best to make his voice calm and reassuring.
The combination of the American's voice and face had a calming effect on the younger man, and he nodded with determination.
"You're right. I'll... I'll get some help." Hiccup began to move towards the door, but quickly waded back and placed a quick kiss on Jack's lips. "I'll be right back." he promised, before returning to the door, throwing the floating swivel chair out of the way as he went.
"I'll just wait here!" Jack's voice followed him out into the corridor, and a cold dread filled him as soon as he saw how bad the flooding in the passage had become. The end closer to the bow was fully hidden beneath the water, making the space suddenly claustrophobic.
He shook off the feeling and willed his legs to move back to the junction, pausing to consider whether to return to the Grand Staircase or to go up a set of stairs to D-Deck. The Scotsman decided quickly, charging up the nearer stairwell.
Hiccup knew that his chances of finding anyone who might be able to help were slim, but he didn't want to dwell on the alternative. He needed to think of a plan, but the indecipherable maze of passageways were frustrating any effort to come up with a solution. He slowed his pace as he fought the feeling of being overwhelmed again, he had to find a way of freeing Jack.
Around the Scotsman the hallway lights began to dim, casting him into darkness as the ship groaned in protest. He rested against the cool wood of the wall, letting himself breath calmly until the bulbs brightened, revealing the answer he sought.
On the wall was a fire hose, and a glazed red box that contained a fire axe. He unhooked the nozzle and a length of hose, pulling it free from the winding spool. He grasped the brass nozzle and struck the glass covering the axe, shattering it. Broken shards fell to the floor as he wrenched the weapon free, and with it out of the case he raced back down the hall, retracing his steps to the stairs... where he froze.
The staircase down to E-Deck was now several feet under water, the surface itself only a few feet from the ceiling of the passageway below. With no other choice, the Scotsman proceeded down and using the horizontal part of the framework of the gate at the junction, he leant out into the hallway.
An explosion of electricity flared with a spark, drawing his attention, before he looked back towards the Master-at-Arms' office. With a push against the frame he swam out into the hallway, where he was reminded of what Jack had said about freezing water.
"Shit!" he exhaled through gritted teeth. "Agghhhh!" he reached up to the pipes that were fastened to the ceiling, using them to pull himself forward through the numbing liquid. The progress was slow but the water finally began to subside, and soon his feet were touching the floor. Letting go of the pipework, Hiccup gripped the handle of the axe with both hands, holding it above him as he waded the last several feet.
"Jack!" he shouted as he shoved the open door of a cupboard away as he re-entered the office. The American looked up, now crouched awkwardly on top of the fully submerged desk. The artist's eyes lit up at the sight of his companion.
"Hiccup!"
"Will this work?" the younger man asked as he held the up the axe triumphantly.
The American appeared startled by the weapon for a moment, before answering: "I guess we'll find out, c'mon." Jack pulled the chain of the handcuffs taunt over a off-shoot of the pipe, keeping his hands clear as Hiccup waded over to him. By his side, the Scotsman lifted the axe up over his left shoulder as he prepared to swing.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... wait!" the artist implored in hesitation. "Try a couple of practice swings, over there." he nodded towards the cupboard Hiccup had passed.
The younger Haddock turned and approached the piece of furniture, lifting the axe over his shoulder again to swing. The blade swung up in an arc over his head and buried itself into one of the doors. "Good! Now, try to hit the same mark again Hiccup, you can do it!"
The younger man hesitated, before swinging again. The blade impacted several inches to the right, and higher from the first hit. He gaped as he pulled the axe from the woodwork, feeling his confidence fade.
"Okay... that's enough practice." the American observed from behind. Hiccup faced the artist as he repositioned his hands. "You can do it! Listen, just hit it really hard... and really fast! C'mon... wait!" Jack posed his hands to make it look like he was holding an axe. "Open the hands up a little more." Hiccup reposition his left hand for a better grip.
"Like that?"
"Right!" Jack nodded. "Listen, Hiccup... I believe in you." he looked his friend dead in the eye. He then turned away and scrunched his eyes closed. "Go!"
The cry of metal against metal rang in their ears, amplified by the small space. Overland opened his eyes cautiously to inspect the damage, and instead was astounded to see the chain of the handcuffs cut, with not a drop of blood to be seen. He turned incredulously to Hiccup who looked as surprised, before cheering and hugging him furiously. "You did it!" they indulged in the moment of celebration, before finally making their retreat.
"Let's go!" Hiccup insisted as Jack dropped into the water.
"Woah, that's cold!" the American gasped as the intensity of the temperature swarmed around him. Following the Scotsman out into the hallway, they stopped as his companion gaped in horror. The stairwell to D-Deck was now below the water, obscured by a froth of bubbles and sparking electricity.
"This is the way out!" Hiccup yelped.
"We have to find another way, come on!" Jack grabbed his lover's hand and led them towards the drier end of the hallway.
