(Jack)

She cried in a way I couldn't remember ever having a chance to see before and that tinge of a nag I felt was confirmed. I was something to this woman, and it had been deep. So I held her, like I knew she wanted to be held. I let her cry as I took her head with my free hand. It felt incredibly natural, the curls against my skin, but it was the same as before, sitting on an edge I couldn't yet reach. I wanted to curse at my inabilities but pushed the urge away, continuing to hold Rose as her tears dampened my shirt. I never would have considered pulling away.

So I waited, as her sobs quieted and her body grew limper against my own. I waited until she pulled back, but I kept hold on her arms as if a life vest, cautiously waiting for a response. She seemed to be collecting herself

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice unsteady. She managed an awkward attempt at a laugh. "I'm not usually the 'damsel' type."

"It's alright, Rose." Her eyes were damp, but the pain had dulled. "I should be asking if you are."

She nodded with a quiet breath. "You caught me off guard, I think. I was having a moment there, about the run in the rain, actually…"

"Yeah, I noticed that part." I couldn't help the grin and removed my hands, knowing she would be alright.

"…to go after you as a matter of fact!" She tried to restrain a sniffle, but didn't do a very good job. Her look also attempted to compose into some semblance of sternness, also failing pitifully. "I don't know, you could have knocked or something. How long have you been there anyway?"

"Yes, let me just knock on the curtain here…" There was sarcasm, but come on. Knock? I pretended to explore the closed curtain that separated the entrance from the foyer. She let out a relaxed laugh and I smiled at the reaction, turning back to her. "Well, I came in sometime around Menelaus' scheme. Couldn't quite bring myself to interrupt."

"I'm sorry, I just got so involved in it, and then Nate with his ridiculous ideas…"

"I told you it's alright. I saw Abigail, and she told me you were over here probably so I came to see it all for myself. Not something I'd get into myself, too much of an open book I'm told, but you seem so…passionate about it." I could still see the rain outside, relentless, but we were far out of its reach.

"Yes," she blushed and I found myself fascinated. "I really do enjoy it. I had seen many plays and operas growing up, but nothing like this. These characters, at least for most of the plays, are so very human. And even when they aren't, they confront situations and emotions so many people are afraid to acknowledge."

She spoke with pride about the group and I couldn't help but admire her. "We're still just starting, really, so any money from the shows goes into the building itself, costumes, and so on. But it's just a start, and for the most part we just have a lot of fun. Well…when I'm not disputing details. That is to say, I've learned life's too precious to waste, and I made a promise once…" The pain I knew was sitting just under the surface flickered again, but she fought for control and won with a warm smile as she seemed to realize herself.

"It's a sensitive subject for me, and now I'm rambling and you haven't even gotten a word in."

I had been thinking of so many responses, so many questions, comments, but I found myself silenced by those eyes of hers, eyes I swear were taking me back to the sea and I was following eagerly.

"Who was I, Rose?" The question escaped, blunt, and the unexpectedness of it was evident on her face. She paused, hesitantly before responding, her voice clear and precise as though she had practiced.

"Your name was Jack Dawson."