DISCLAIMER: How have I not done this yet? Anyways, Although I wish that I owned Titanic, especially Jack Dawson, I don't. I'm simply writing about how I think Titanic should have ended. Thank you to James Cameron for giving us the opportunity to write/read all of these stories! :)

Thanks for reading and reviewing dolls! Make sure to keep reading to find out exactly who Andrew Lawrence is :)

THANK YOU to the people who reviewed, especially Sarah! A big THANK YOU to everyone who read this and didn't review. Y'all are fabulous!

Enjoy! ;)

As I finished my breakfast, I looked out the window and saw fields rushing by. It looked like we were surrounded by farms. My mind immediately jumped to Jack and his childhood in Wisconsin.

I wonder if Jack misses it there. Maybe we should visit sometime.

"Jack?" I asked. "Do you miss Chippewa Falls?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied with a sigh. "But there's nothing for me there now. After my parents' deaths, everyone looked at me with pity in their eyes. I couldn't handle another day of being the 'poor orphaned boy.' I had a few close friends, and my friend's family took me in. One night, I decided to leave. The money I had inherited from my parents wasn't much, but it was enough to get me to New York. From that moment on, I became a tumbleweed blowing in the wind."

Jack smiled at me, but I could tell it was fake. His blue eyes lost their usual sparkle and became distant as he thought about his childhood.

"We could visit sometime, if you'd like. I've never been to the Midwest."

I smiled at him encouragingly and ran my thumb along the side of his hand. He mechanically nodded his head, lost in his past.

"Hey, do you want to go back to the cabin and talk for a while, love?" I gently asked.

He nodded again and I helped him stand up. As we walked towards the cabin, I wrapped his arm around my shoulder and leaned into his chest.

"I love you," I whispered before pressing my lips against his jaw.

That seemed to pull Jack out of his trance. He kissed the top of my head before whispering, "I love you" back.

When we reached our cabin, Jack immediately reached for a piece of paper and some charcoal. I watched in silence as his hands floated across the paper; the way Jack disappeared into his own little world whenever he drew something fascinated me. Jack's eyebrows furrowed and he flipped some hair out of his face, exactly like when he drew me. I felt blood rushing to my cheeks as I remembered that night with a slight smile. I saw a tear run down Jack's face and I tentatively placed a hand on his knee. He flinched for a moment, but kept drawing.

"I'll show you when it's done," he whispered.

I nodded and kissed his cheek before heading across the cabin to look out the window.

I shouldn't have brought it up. Seeing him hurt hurts me. God, I love him. I wish I had never brought it up.

Stop being silly, Rose. His childhood would have been brought up at some point. It's not like he can hide it forever.

I can't hide mine either. Even though I've accepted what happened, it still hurts. I don't think I could handle talking about it in front of him.

He loves you, no matter what. What happened isn't your fault. If he tells you about his childhood, you should tell him about yours.

I spent what seemed like hours arguing with myself; in the end, I realized that if Jack told me about his past, I would tell him about mine. After all, he loved me. I needed to tell someone how I felt about what happened, and Jack was the only one who would ever come close to understanding. I took a deep breath and looked at Jack. He was holding the sheet op paper in his hands and tears were streaming down his face.

I practically ran to him and placed an arm around his shoulders. I pulled him close to me and pressed my lips into his hair. Jack's body shook with great, heaping sobs and I tried to calm him. From experience, I knew that sometimes a good cry was necessary, so I stopped trying to soothe him and just held him. My heart broke for Jack; he had always been my rock, and now it was my turn to help him.

After a while, Jack's sobs stopped and his body gradually stopped shaking. He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and I brushed away the few remaining tears. I kissed his forehead and felt him relax.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Jack! Don't be. I'm sorry I brought it up, love."

"No, it would have been brought up at some point. You deserve to know."

Jack took a deep breath and shut his eyes for a moment before looking at me again.

"We don't have to talk about it now. We have time."

"No, it's alright."

We shifted our bodies so we were facing each other; my legs were sprawled across Jack's lap and he held my hands in one of his. The picture Jack had drawn earlier was in his other hand; it was a drawing of two people, a man and a woman, smiling and laughing. They were bundled up in heavy winter clothing and looked so happy.

"This is the last time I saw my parents smile and heard their laughter. We went out ice fishing for my 15th birthday, and we were having so much fun. It was amazing; laughing and cheering when every fish was caught, even the small ones," Jack let out a small laugh. "They sent me home to grab some food, and when I returned, they were gone. The ice below them had cracked, and they were plunged into the freezing water. I don't know if they died of hypothermia or if they drowned. They were just lying in the water, and my dad's arms were wrapped around my mother. It looked like he was still trying to protect her."

Tears welled up in Jack's eyes, and he glanced longingly at the picture.

"I just miss them so much. If I had gotten back earlier, maybe I could have helped. If I hadn't left, maybe they'd still be here," he whispered.

I pulled Jack back into my arms and squeezed him tightly.

"I know. I miss my dad every day. But it's not your fault, Jack. You had no clue that the ice was going to break. If you had stayed, you might not be here now. I might not be here now," I whispered.

I held Jack's face in my hands and kissed him gently. I ran my fingers through his silky blonde hair in an attempt to smooth them.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I murmured before kissing him again.

"This is a beautiful picture, love. I know your parents would be proud of you," I tilted Jack's chin up so he met my gaze. "Don't blame yourself. I know it's hard to stop blaming yourself, but the guilt only makes the pain worse."

"You don't understand, Rose. I'm glad you don't."

"But I do understand, Jack. I completely understand."

Shock and confusion flashed through his eyes as I took a deep breath.

"When I was younger, my father was my best friend. He was the opposite of my mother; warm, loving, and very caring. He was my only ally and would stand up for me when my mother became too much to handle. When I was 15, I met Cal. At first he was so charming and wonderful. He always said that 'we were royalty' and he certainly treated me that way at first. After about 8 months, his true colors began to show. When my parents weren't around, he would yell at me and say some pretty rude things. Cal turned into a cold person, someone completely different than the man I had met. One day, I overheard Cal asking my father for my hand in marriage. It was only a month before my 16th birthday, and both my father and Cal thought his proposal would be the 'perfect present' for me. Up until then, my father and I agreed on everything. He always understood what I was feeling. I couldn't believe that he would ever agree to this; I thought he noticed how miserable I was with Cal. For the month leading up to my birthday, my father and I fought every single day. We went from sharing secrets to screaming at each other. The night before my birthday, we had our biggest fight yet. I shouted at my father and I told him I hated him. I told my only ally that I hated him. I could never really hate my father, no matter how hard I tried. The next morning, I went into my father's study to apologize. Only I wasn't able to; he had died of a heart attack during the night."

The tears I had held back for so long finally fell. Jack's arms wrapped around me, pulling me as close to him as was physically possible. He kissed my hair and murmured my name over and over, like a prayer. Once I regained my composure, I looked into Jack's eyes and continued my story.

"The last thing I ever told my father was that I hated him. At my birthday dinner, I gladly accepted Cal's proposal as a punishment. It was the first of many long, awful, nights. I blamed myself for my father's death, and I saw being with Cal as my punishment. Every time he hit me or raped me, I saw it as God's way of punishing me for killing my father. The I met you, and I realized that it wasn't my fault. You helped me see that I deserve to be happy, and that blaming myself wasn't going to bring back my father."

Jack's eyes bore into mine; it was as if he was trying to etch his words into my soul.

"Rose. It's not your fault at all. You deserve to be happy and to feel loved."

He slowly kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, and then my lips. After I pulled away, we both whispered, "I love you" at the same time. I slightly smiled and leaned into Jack's chest. He stroked my hair and buried his face in my curls. I had never felt so close to anyone or so safe.

Okay, so originally this was going to be a super short chapter… 4 pages later, here you are dolls! It's kind of emotionally draining, I know. I actually cried while writing this.

Anywhoo, enjoy guys! And don't forget to review ;)

Oh, and right now the vote is 50/50 on the Jack/Rose wedding debate. Whatcha think?

XO,

Katie