They wait in silence in the stairwell, listening for the sound of footsteps, or gunshots, Cal coming to finish them off. Instead, all Jack can hear is Titanic moaning as she sinks, and the water rushing towards them. He wishes they could have stayed in that car together-- safe and warm and close, where nothing else existed but her, no icebergs or jealous Fiancé or seawater. Jack can hear his own heart racing, can feel the tandem pounding of Rose's as he holds her hand. How long can we wait here? He wonders. How long will Cal and Lovejoy look for us? How far into the water will they go?

A sound carries it's way up the stairs towards them, its echo louder with the water. He and Rose turn down the stairs to see where it's coming from, and see a small, screaming child down the hall-- a dark haired little boy in a soaked wool coat, shaking with sobs. He must have gotten lost in all the confusion, separated from his parents. Now he's crying for them. Jack swallows-- the memory of how it felt to wake up one morning to find his parents gone hits him right in the chest. He was older than this boy is, but still barely more than a child himself.

Jack looks back at her Rose, her red curls damp and face drawn and pale with the cold. "We can't leave him," She says, eyes wide, like the notion surprises even her. No, we can't. It wouldn't be right. If they left the boy here, they wouldn't be any better than the others who passed him by, than Cal. Even though they don't have the time-- Jack looks to see that water is already flooding down the stairs the way they came. If we're going to save him, it needs to be now, He thinks, While we still have the chance to get out.

"Alright, come on!" Jack lets go of Rose's hand and bolts down the hall through the ankle deep water towards the child, Rose on his heels. The water splashes up around their knees, but it doesn't make a difference because they're already soaked to their bones. Jack hooks his hands under the child's arms and lifts him to his chest, with a hand on the back of his head and another around his legs. He can feel the Boy's little heartbeat against his chest.

The white set of doors in front of him groan, water spurting out the hinges from at least as tall as Jack is. And shit, those doors are going to break at any second-- they have to get out now. Jack doesn't waste another moment, just runs in the other direction as fast as he can. The force of the water built up behind those doors-- when they finally give way-- may be enough to kill them. The boy screams as they run, his arm hooked around Jack's neck. It'll be alright, Jack tells himself, even though he can't know that, doesn't even believe it himself.

His heart goes stone cold when he sees the flood of water rushing down the way they came, and realizes that it's no longer an option. We'd never get back up that, Jack thinks. Even if they could, how deep would the water be when they got back to the main staircase? What if they ran into Cal again on the way? "Go back!" He yells. They turn the other way. There was another hall off to the side, Jack thinks. Maybe there's something that way. One stairwell was never far from another.

A man splashes into their view from the hallway Jack is thinking of and turns their way. His eyes land on them, and the boy in Jack's arms, and the man screams at them in some language he doesn't know, red faced and ripping his son away is rage. He shoves Jack back into the wall hard enough that it nearly knocks the wind out of him, and makes for the opposite direction-- towards the doors.

There's a river flowing down the stairs behind them, so much water flowing in that he can't see over it. It must be the same on the other side. There's as much or more water behind those doors, and when they break--

"It's the wrong way, come back!" Jack yells, seeing how the doors bulge under the weight of the water, how it's bursting through every crack it can. And he knows what's going to happen before it even does. And he can't stop it, but he's damn sure going to try.

"No! Not that way!" Rose cries at them, right on his heels.

"Not that way, come back!"

"Not that way, not that way!"

The man stops to pick up his boy's suitcase, and looks up as the doors give one last groan. The lock breaks, and the doors burst out to the walls. Jack hears the Father's scream as the wall of white water engulfs him and his son, sweeping them away in the flood. Rose screams, and the sound of that cuts through his own paralysis and puts him into action.

"Go!" Jack bellows, hand on her back, pressing her forward, down the hall the boy's Father came from, "Run! Run, Rose!" The lights flicker around them, light one moment and dark the next. Jack can't see through it, can hardly keep his eyes open through the sting of the saltwater. He can hear it chasing them, a stampede only inches behind. We'll never be able to outrun it, He thinks. But he can't stop, won't, even though all he wants to do right now is fall down and rest.

It finally catches them from the left, at their backs and then every other direction, sweeping their feet out from under them and pushing them down the hall without remorse. The lights and the seawater are blinding-- Jack can't tell where he is, and he's lost Rose's hand, when he searches for it all he finds is water, he can't find her, he's lost her, he's lost her. I've lost her, I've lost her, I've lost her. "Jack!" She screams for him, her voice pulling at his heart.

"Rose!"

They slam into something hard and metal-- Jack feels it before he sees it, in the dark. His hands grip first at the metal grating and then on Rose's back to see that she's alright. She is-- he sees, not even able to breathe through his relief. She's moving, but cold and wet, lips more lavender than pink. He clambers over her and to the wall as the force of the flood subsides a little.

"This way!" Jack cries, climbing back through the current using the wall, the piping in the ceiling, anything he can get his hands on as purchase. The flood climbs higher to his chest. He can see a lone stairwell, lit from above-- their hallway is still dark, with what little light they have flickering or dim-- and grabs the corner of the wall, dragging himself around it. "Come on! Give me your hand!" Jack yells, reaching back for Rose. He pulls her towards him, now at the very base of the stairwell, hand on the icy slick railing. Jack finally gets her in arms reach, and shoves her up the stairs against the push of the water at his side.

Rose climbs the stairwell, shivering. Her dress and coat are heavy with water, and the light silks of her skirts cling to her legs like she's naked. I should have put on more sensible clothes, she thinks. A corset, perhaps. Something so that her nipples didn't feel like they were about to freeze off. She hadn't thought she would need sensible clothes after nine o'clock in the evening. Instead she'd put on something soft and easy to get into-- And out of, Rose remembers. Jack had gotten her out of it all too easily not so long ago, the ache of him still fresh between her thighs. We should have stayed in that car, She thinks for what must be the hundredth time now, reaching the top of the stairs.

"Oh god," It's locked, it's locked, She panics, pulling on the black cage doors, the lock unyielding. We're trapped. I'm not ready to die, I'm not. Jack reaches the top a moment after her and rattles the doors, furious, a shadow of the wild animal he was earlier when they faced another cage. But it's only the two of them, now. There's no other men to help, there's no bench to use as a battering ram. It's just us. And unless they figure something out, they're going to die.

She looks back down the stairs to see the blue water rising towards them, faster by the second. "Help!" Jack yells, even though she can't see anyone.

Rose gasps at the cold of the water on her heels and ankles, the water flowing up onto the next floor like the tide on a beach. They pull against the doors together, trying to see if maybe they can break it open, but it does no good. "Help!" She screams. What else is there to do?

"Wait!" Jack cries as a steward goes flying past in his white uniform. He stops frozen in the stairwell, looking back at them apprehensively. "Sir, sir open the gate! Please! Please,"

"Help, please!" Rose begs, colder than she's ever been. In the moment, he almost looks like the other steward she'd punched earlier, but his face isn't quite right for it. If he was, he'd have left us already. She can feel her heartbeat in her fingers, in her toes. "Help us! Please,"

"Please!"

The steward starts up the stairs, but then hesitates, and changes his mind at the last second. "Bloody hell," He swears, rushing down the stairs to them and raising a set of keys to the doors.

"Hurry," She urges, as the water rises up their calves. The steward's fingers tremble, fumbling with the keys, trying to find the right one.

"Come on, come on!"

"Come on!"

"Go, go!"

"Jesus," The steward mutters, still testing the different keys, the water climbing past her knees, up her thighs.

"Please!" Rose insists. "Hurry!"

"Come on! Come on!"

The light sparks above their heads, and flickers, leaving them in half light and half darkness. The steward looks up at her with wide, terrified eyes. She only catches a glimpse of him at a time. "I'm sorry, I've dropped the keys!" He says, and turns away from them, running. In a few flashes of light, he's gone.

"Wait, please!"

"Wait! Wait! Don't leave! Please-- get more help! No!"

Jack doesn't have time to think-- the steward won't be back, he won't get more help as Rose begs him to. They don't have the time to wait. Their only chance is to find the keys he dropped. He breathes and dives under.

Everything is quieter under the water, less chaotic somehow. Rose's legs are beside him, pale skirts swirling up above her knees, ghostly in the green of the water. Jack elbows through the cage, the lights flickering above making the water go black every other moment. He can hear the water moving, up to his waist when he went under, and feel the sting of the salt on his eyes. He thumbs around on the floor, looking for the keys, but it's so hard to see anything through the lights. Finally, his fingers brush against the cool metal, and then after another moment, grasp the chain.

"I got them," Jack gasps into the air, water dripping into his eyes. "Which one is it, Rose?" He asks, holding the keys up for her. Shit, which one was he using? The water is up to his chest and rising fast.

"Alright, the sharp one!" She tells him, cold hands brushing against his. "Try the sharp one!" Jack plunges his hands into the water, through the holes in the door, searching for the lock on the other side. "Hurry, Jack," Rose says, sounding frightened.

He can't find it, but he'sso close, so close he can taste it. "Oh no! Oh no, come on!"

"Hurry, Jack," Rose says, beginning to panic. The water is rising on his chest, to his neck and soon higher.

Jack feels the key slide into the lock, and tries to twist it, his hand on the other side, but the key won't turn. "It's stuck!" He groans, the metal grating against his skin.

"Hurry!

"It's stuck!"

"Jack!"

"Come on!" It's below his chin, rising faster, and he can hardly see Rose, can hardly seeanything.

"Hurry, Jack!"

"Come on!" He yells again, but all he can hear are Rose's terrified screams, too frightened for him to be able to make out whatever it is she's saying anymore. It has to unlock. It has to. I won't watch her drown. I won't watch her die.

The lock twists. "I got it, I got it! Go! Go, Rose! Go!" He shoves one of the doors open as much as he can, and ushers Rose through first.

Rose swims forward in the dark, Jack's hand lost somewhere behind her. She'd had it moments ago, but she can't even see him now. The water is up past her neck and on her face, and she's barely able to keep her head above it, gasping for breath where she can and clinging to the pipes in the ceiling. Rose ducks under a large one to keep from bumping her head, and comes to more stairs on the other side where she doesn't have to stand on tiptoe to keep her head dry.

"Jack!" Rose screams back for him, breathing hard. She'd thought he was right behind her, but she doesn't see him, doesn't see him. Her heart races in panic. What if he's gone? That idea is unbearable. "Jack!"

He surfaces a moment later, gasping for breath and clinging to the same pipe she'd gone under a second ago "Come on!" She cries, reaching for his hand. Jack dips under and comes back up on the other side, hair soaked, shirt clinging to his skin.

"Move, move!" He insists, stumbling up the stairs behind her. They climb set after set, some flights twice as hard to climb up as others. It's getting to be difficult to move even on the dry parts of the ship, as the stern rises. We don't have very long, Rose thinks as Titanic moans under the weight of all the water, dying. "Keep goin' up!" He yells up at her-- they need to get to the top level, and out onto the deck. It's the best shot of surviving they have.

Jack's hand is on her back, urging her onward. All Rose wants to do is reach for his hand. All she wants to do is lie down and go to sleep in his arms, sleep until things are better. Surely tomorrow can't be worse than tonight. But if she does that she'll never wake up. They'll never wake up.

If they mean to live to see daylight again, she expects they have a very long night in front of them.

Carts full of china go rolling past them as they cross the room, working against the incline of the ship, Rose's hand in his, and there's the door, and--

"Wait, wait, wait!!" Rose yells all of a sudden, her footsteps slowing as they near the back of the dining hall. It's then that Jack notices the man standing in front of the fireplace, staring at nothing but the clock. And it's a moment later that he realizes it's Mister Andrews, man who designed Titanic. He was always nice to me, Jack thinks, Even though I'm from steerage. He couldn't say that about most of the people he had dinner with last night. "Mister Andrews," Rose says, because he still hasn't noticed them.

"Oh, Rose," He realizes, turning to look at them. He looks ten years older than he did when Jack last saw him. The weight of tragedy was forcing everyone's actions-- no one was prepared to deal with something like this. Andrews' eyes are empty, and sad, even as he looks at Rose. Jack wonders what he's thinking-- he'd gone rushing past them earlier, right after the iceberg hit, talking about the compartments. Andrews must have known what was going to happen to Titanic before anyone else did. He made the ship, after all.

"Won't you even make a try for it?" Rose asks him. Jack knows he won't. Rose knows it, too. The look in his eyes says enough. Titanic will sink, and Mister Andrews will go down with her.

Mister Andrews takes a moment, looking positively heartbroken, and says, "I'm sorry that I didn't build you a stronger ship, young Rose."

Thomas Andrews' eyes burn with tears he won't let himself shed. Rose DeWitt Bukater stands before him, pale and cold and soaked, eyes wide and blue. He remembers his own little daughter, Elizabeth, only a year and a half old. But she'll never even know his face. She'll never remember him. He'll never see her grow to be more than a babe.

She's so young, He thinks. She has so much life left to live. Rose was so clever-- had realized there weren't enough lifeboats for everyone before disaster was even a whisper in anyone's mind. And she might not live to see dawn because those damned White Star Line Chairmen decided they couldn't be bothered to take such precautions. Because I let them get away with it. I backed down like a coward. And more than a thousand will die for it.

The young man with her, Jack Dawson, takes Rose's hand in his, as Titanic wails. "It's going fast. We have to move," He says. Jack is determined-- Thomas can see that in his eyes. He doesn't plan to die here. Not the way he does. Jack, too, is soaked in seawater. They must have both been belowdecks not so long ago.

He remembers the wild look about Rose when she'd come to him not so long ago, demanding to know where someone who'd been arrested might have been taken. He catches the glint of silver on Jack's wrists, and realizes that they're the remains of severed handcuffs. Realizes that it must have been Jack Dawson who Rose went down on E-deck to save. Thomas remembers Rose's absence from dinner this evening, the suspicious looks her Mother and Fiancé shared. He could be imagining it, but he might see the barest hint of a love mark on Jack's neck. He may not know much about either of them-- what they've been doing before or since the iceberg hit or how Jack got himself arrested-- but he knows that they certainly seem to care for each other deeply.

"Wait," He stops them, holding out his white lifebelt. It's not as if he's going to use it-- he's already made his peace with his fate. It might as well go to someone who will use it. Someone who deserves to live. Maybe I can save one more life tonight, Thomas thinks. Maybe he's good for something after all, if he can save this brilliant girl. "Good luck to you, Rose."

"And to you," Rose says after a moment, gaze heavy with the understanding of his words. She reaches out and hugs him tight for just a moment, and then steps back. Jack ushers her through the revolving door first, and then nods at him once on the way out. Something passes between the two of them-- Thomas can't place it. He thinks it might be understanding, or gratitude, for protecting Rose. Andrews knows that his lifebelt will be used tonight, and he knows that Jack will keep her safe, no matter the cost. That's all he can ask for.

Another moment passes, and they're both gone.

Happy Titanic week, everyone! Sorry that it's been a while since the last chapter. I meant to have this out much sooner, but I've been really busy lately. The good news is, we're finally at the beginning of the New Content! Yay! And even better-- Most of said new content is already written and only requires minimal editing before it can be published. How do you like that?

Notes: Not many for this chapter, surprisingly. It was all very action heavy.

1. I refer to corsets again, deal with it. No, I will not give up on this point that corsets aren't inherently bad. I suggest perusing the historical fashion side of YouTube (Bernadette Banner, Karolina Zebrowska) if you're interested. Believe it or not, a good corset could serve as a layer of protection from the cold-- hence the phrase about 'Something so that her nipples didn't feel like they were about to freeze off' That line is just a little bit stolen from Jennifer Grey (Talking about filming the lake lift in Dirty Dancing) The water was indeed below freezing that night-- I imagine the cases were very similar.

2. For a while, I wasn't sure whether or not the steward who tries to help Jack and Rose is the one who she punched earlier. In the end I decided it wasn't-- the face and voice weren't quite right, as nice a moment as it would have been, for it to have been that Steward, with him hesitant but then deciding to help the woman who gave him a bloody nose. Make of that what you will.

3. Recurring themes in this chapter-- the idea that they both wish they could have stayed in the car together (and that the iceberg hadn't hit) and that both Jack and Rose are basically fall-down tired. The car bit is really more of an emotional tidbit that's meant to show how in sync they are. The Fall down tired bit is more to do with that it's like 2 in the morning, and they're running all over the place and climbing and swimming. I think just about anyone would be really exhausted under those circumstances, so immense respect to the both of them for not passing out during any of this.

4. Mister Andrews-- I kind of just couldn't help but adding a little bit of his perspective in here. I like the notion of this unspoken respect between him and Jack, because they're both trying to protect Rose at the end, of course Mister Andrews is in a more fatherly way. And I also liked the idea that he realizes that it was Jack that Rose was so desperate to save when she asked him about it (This might get brought up in the future) Also, according to my minimal research, Mister Andrews did have a daughter named Elizabeth, who was at this time around a year and a half old.

That's all for now! Hopefully I'll be back with more soon. Once again, happy Titanic Week (don't be afraid to watch the movie again-- you know you want to) New Content is Coming! Next chapter I bring you to the Carpathia!