Lying In Your Arms
By Colorain
Disclaimer: I don't own Titanic. I don't own Rose or Jack or even the boat, though I wouldn't really want to own the boat because it's at the bottom of the ocean. Though I'd take the insurance money . . . Ok, this story screws with the ending. I wrote it at 10 o'clock at night, not my most lucid time, so I'm sorry if it doesn't make much sense. The dialogue comes from script-o-rama.com, and I don't know how accurate it is, so I'm sorry if that's wrong. I just honestly can't sit through three hours of that movie again just for a couple of lines. With that said . . . enjoy.
If he remembered one thing about that night, it would be the screams.
It wouldn't be the iceberg, or the sinking of the boat. It wouldn't even be Rose. No, it would have to be the screams.
And if it wasn't that, it would be the frozen silence that spoke of death. They had been in the water for a while now, and most had become white corpses, their faces caught forever in a final, desperate plea. For what, he couldn't imagine, though he assumed life. Perhaps some had dreamed of their families, their lives they had left behind and the new ones that they would never live. Perhaps some had reflected on the fact that they were dying and there was nothing they could do about it.
Rose lay quietly on her piece of wood. She hadn't made a move in minutes. Despite the fact that he was numbly floating in the frigid water, his only concern was for Rose. She had to live. It didn't matter what happened to him, she had to make it. She was going to go places, do amazing things that he could barely imagine. Though he would absolutely love to, he didn't necessarily fit into the picture of her life. She might be better off without him.
Rose fixed her gaze on him. "I love you, Jack."
She was not giving up. She was not leaving him. What was life without her? Nothing. All he had to do was keep her talking until a boat came back . . . And even as he realized how futile all those efforts may be, she still had a chance.
"No . . . don't say your good-byes, Rose. Don't you give up. Don't do it." He may die, but she was not allowed to. Something large nudging his back brought his attention away from Rose for a moment. His mind registered that another piece of wood had floated to him. It wasn't as big as what Rose was on, but he could fit on it.
Thank you, God. If she thinks I might live, maybe she'll put up more of a fight. But Rose barely noticed Jack was out of the water. Their hands still clutched, he pulled himself over to her, cradling her cold body in his arms. It was a fragile embrace, one that could easily be broken off as ice was so like to do.
"I'm so cold." she whispered, and tiny shudders wracked her body as if to prove her point.
He hugged her closer, wishing with all of his strength that he could give her his life so that she may live. "You're going to get out of this," he murmured in her ear, her hair still managing to tickle his throat. "You're going to go on and you're going to make babies and watch them grow and you're going to die an old lady warm in your bed." His voice grew stronger even as she grew weaker. "Not here. Not this night. Do you understand me?"
A cry escapes her blue-tinged lips. "I can't feel my body."
Oh, no. No no no no no. You're not doing this to me. She had to be made to understood that he couldn't live without her, didn't even want to try. "Rose, listen to me." Her head sagged against the wood. He spoke louder. "Listen. Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me." He paused, wondering what he could say to make her want to live. "It brought me to you. And I'm thankful, Rose. I'm thankful."
Her breath is coming slower now, and he massages her stiff hand with his thumb. Don't you dare die on me, Rose DeWitt Bukater. Don't you dare.
"You must do me this honor. Promise me you will survive, that you will never give up. No matter what happens, no matter how hopeless . . . promise me now and never let go of that promise."
With a pained sigh, she breathes, "I can't."
"Rose?" Jack's voice is panicked. "Rose?" He keeps crying her name until it becomes a shout in the night. It echoes off the still water, the frozen corpses and his own dead heart. She has given up on him, and he no longer wishes to live.