So here it is: the conclusion to my first ever completed fanfic! I feel close to tears, but I'm smiling uncontrollably at the same time. xP
I'd like to thank every single person who took time out of their lives to read this. It really means a lot to me that you would do so, even if you didn't review or add this to your alerts or anything like that, it means a lot. :)
I'm going to properly thank everyone in the dedication update after this. I don't want to make you wait any longer, reading this A/N, so the song for this chapter is "Love Remains the Same" by Gavin Rossdale.
Read on (for the last time D:)
Love Remains the Same
Decades later, Evelyn Ryan lay in her bed in the beautiful Arizona home she'd raised her son in. Her hair had turned pale white long ago, and wrinkles had creased her once pretty face. Her eyes were the same vibrant yellowish color they'd always been, and they were the only things that made her look identical to that nineteen year old girl that had boarded on the doomed Titanic.
She was currently flipping through an old scrapbook, smiling at some of the pictures, frowning at others. She hadn't looked at it in years, but today had seemed like the day. She knew when she'd realized that it was the day to look at the scrapbook that it was also the day for other things, things she had neglected doing for entirely too long.
Next to her bed was a table laden with more pictures. Most of the ones at the back depicted the same three people: a beautiful girl with flaming red hair, another pretty girl with dark brown hair, and a boy who grew from a baby to a man within the frames. The ones in the middle showed the same brunette girl with the same boy from the other pictures, showing his progression to adulthood in them. The one closest to the front showed the woman with her son, his beautiful wife, and her two granddaughters and grandson.
The picture at the very front of the mess though was of Evelyn with another woman with white hair, who was her long time best friend Rose Calvert. They had both been laughing wildly when the picture was taken; Evelyn had her head thrown back, and Rose was resting her head on her shoulder. It was only two weeks ago that it was taken.
The phone next to her bed rang, and she made a frustrated noise. She hated the damn thing, always making that terrible buzzing noise. She lifted it off the hook and said, "Hello?"
"Hello, dear!" chirped a bright voice from the other line.
"Rose!" Evelyn exclaimed, all irritation forgotten. "Did she have the baby?"
"Yup!" Rose laughed happily. "A little girl, 6 pounds, four ounces. That makes my sixth grandchild!"
"Congratulations, love!" Evelyn gushed. "What's her name?"
"Erika Rose," Rose said proudly. "I guilt-tripped him until he chose the middle name."
Evelyn laughed. "Just like you, of course."
Rose giggled. Old age had done little to deter her free spirit. Evelyn thought of when they were on the Titanic, how restrained they'd both been. It seemed like a long time ago, and not so long ago at the same time.
"So how are you holding up?" Rose asked.
"Well, I'm still getting over this damn cold," Evelyn sniffed unhappily. "Tom won't let me out of this bed for anything."
"And he shouldn't!" Rose said sternly. "You're 75. At your age you should be resting!"
"You're 73, and you still spend all of your time running around!" Evelyn pointed out.
"Ah, yes, I do. But when I'm 75, I'll settle down."
"Ah, shut up, you hypocrite," Evelyn grumbled as Rose let out a peal of laughter. It was silent on the line for a moment until Evelyn muttered, "I'm going to give him the stuff today."
Rose sucked in her breath audibly. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. I've waited too long."
"You hold on another fifteen minutes, and I'll be there!" Rose said. Evelyn could her shuffling on the other side.
"No, Rose," Evelyn said firmly. "This is something I have to do on my own. He's my son, and he needs to get it all from me."
Rose was silent for a few seconds, but finally she said, "Call me later."
"Alright. Love you."
"Love you too, old lady." She hung up the phone. Evelyn snorted, and put the phone back in its original place.
Evelyn closed the scrapbook and her eyes, leaning her head back against the headboard.
It had been 56 years to the day since the worst and best day of her life, the day the Titanic sunk. She could still hear the screams of the people around her, the groaning of the metal as the ship fell lower and lower and the gunshots as the officers tried to keep the panicked people back. When she thought about that day, she still felt the freezing cold piercing every pore in her as she struggled to stay alive. She'd promised him...
She heard her front door open and shut. "Mom!" a man's voice called.
"I'm up here, Tom!" she called down to him, smoothing her blankets and staring at the open door expectantly.
When he appeared in the door a huge proud smile crossed her face. Thomas Gabriel Ryan, her only son, stood in the doorway. He was her pride and joy, the only thing that kept her going in the early years after the sinking. A long time ago, it used to make her heart ache with loss to stare at him. He was practically identical to his late father. But those times had long passed, and she only felt overjoyed when she would see him now. He had the same light brown curls, the same nose and mouth, and the same build. She knew that Tommy would have been so proud to have seen him grow as she did.
"Hey, mom," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek before sitting in the armchair next to her bed. "I'm glad you haven't gotten out of bed."
She glowered at him. "Yes, well, lord knows I'd probably keel over in a heartbeat if I stood up for two seconds."
He looked at her like he was reprimanding a child. "Come on, mom, you're not 30 anymore."
"No shit?" she said playfully. He rolled his eyes with a fond smile.
"I'm glad you don't talk like that around the kids," he grumbled.
Her eyes lit up. "How are they?"
He grinned proudly. "Lily made the Dean's list, Sam got into every college he applied to, and Eden got her driving permit last week."
Evelyn laid her hand wearily over her heart. "Time goes by so fast," she sighed quietly.
He nodded, also with that faraway look. He shook his head a little bit, but finally said "So what did you have to tell me? You sounded kind of anxious on the phone."
"I think it's time I gave you some things," she said simply. She stood from the bed, and he tried to pull her back down.
"Come on, Ma, you can't-"
She swatted his hand away. "I can do what I want Thomas Gabriel! I'm not dead yet, and I'm still your mother!"
She walked to her closet, shifted some things around, but finally pulled out a cardboard box with no label.
"This is yours now," she said, pulling a large piece of black fabric from the box.
She unfolded it, and revealed that it was a worn black coat with a tear around the right shoulder and a missing button. "This was your father's," she said fondly, handing it over. "I didn't have a jacket the night of the sinking, so he gave this to me to wear. I wore it always for about a month after the sinking." Her face fell slightly. "It stopped smelling like him, and I couldn't look at it anymore."
He felt the fabric in his hands, noting how rough it was. He couldn't believe he was actually holding something that belonged to the man he'd never met, yet idolized. He didn't have anything that had belonged to him, and had actually believed his mother didn't own anything that was once his.
"And these," she said, taking off the necklace she'd been wearing for as long as he could remember. "He gave me those," she continued. "They were his parents' wedding rings." She chuckled quietly." He was so determined to save me. Your father was a magnificent man, baby. I'm so sorry you never had the chance to know him."
"I feel like I do know him," he assured her, "after what you've told me."
"You're so like him," she sighed, touching his cheek.
"Yeah, so you've told me," he laughed. She rolled her eyes.
"All I ask," she added, "is that you show this to my grandbabies. I want them to see what a wonderful man their grandfather was. I want them to know he was brave, and that he saved me every time I needed it." She looked at her lap, and said quietly, "Even if I didn't know I needed it." She said it so low that he didn't know if she was talking to him or herself.
Tom thought of his mother on the ship, and of his Aunt Rose going through the same things. His mother had hurt so much all of these years, losing the man she loved in a terrible accident, but she stuck around to take care of him. She tried so hard for him…it choked him up a little.
He nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I think you should tell them."
"Well…we'll see." She gave him a secret smile, like she knew something he didn't. "Now get going. I just wanted to give you those. I'm tired, and I'm old. I have to rest."
He laughed. "Alright, mom. I'll try to bring the kids over next week." He packed everything back into the box, handling it like it was glass. When he was in the doorway he turned. "I love you, mom."
"I love you too, darling," she grinned.
She listened to his footsteps as he walked to her front door, heard it shut, and then listened as he started his car and left the house. She sat in solemn silence under the blankets of her bed for a long time after, and it was sunset soon enough.
She stared out of the window at the soft pink light, and let herself smile.
"Well," she said to the empty room, "I did it. I survived, just like you asked me to. I lived my life, and I raised our son. He's wonderful; you would have loved him. I did my best without you, and I think I did pretty well," She paused, but started again. "I told our son just how amazing you were, and I've passed you on, in my own way. I kept my biggest promise: I loved you from the day I met you and I never stopped. I've done what I had to do, Tommy. It's time."
She laid her head back against the headboard, feeling suddenly tired. Her eyes drooped suddenly, and a cold swept through her. She knew what was coming, and had all day. It had been the push she'd needed to give her son the only things of his father that she could. The smile wouldn't go away, and she settled in to her bed comfortably…
Her eyes slipped shut, and she was suddenly surrounded by bright sunlight. Though no windows had been open in her bedroom, a slight breeze ghosted across her skin. She squinted, but when her eyes adjusted she saw that she was standing at the bow of the Titanic, only feet away from the front of the rail. The few clouds were silhouetted beautifully against the bright orange of the sunrise. She could hear the water beneath them, so familiar a sound that it surprised her. Looking down at her hands she saw that they weren't wrinkled, but smooth with the youth she'd once had.
A shape suddenly formed at the curve of the railing, and it shifted, becoming clearer and clearer. It wouldn't have mattered if it remained blurry; she knew exactly who it was.
He materialized seemingly out of thin air, standing there just as she remembered him: the mass of curly hair, charming smile, worn and patched clothing, and a look of unchanged love in his hazel eyes. Tommy opened his arms to her.
"Welcome home, love," he said, his accent just as she remembered.
She ran forward, and sunk into the arms she'd been waiting for, for nearly sixty years.
She was home.