Title: Past Tense
Author: Sarah (sfrench@austarmetro.com.au)
Rating: PG
Fandom: Titanic
Feedback: Sure!
Archive: FF.N, my Titanic site, my LJ, anywhere else please ask.
Summary: This is something hopefully a little different. It's a 'group POV'
(if such a thing is possible!) from all of the people in the 'reunion'
scene.
A/N- I watched Titanic on DVD last night for the first time in a … long
time and remembered all the reasons why I love it so much! This fic is something
that brews in my mind every time I watch the reunion scene; it was begging me to
be written so here it is!
Ours are stories that were never told.
Given the chance, we might have loved well, might have given unselfishly and in doing so, changed the world inch by inch. We might have spent summer evenings with our children perched on our knees, reading stories and sharing smiles. We might have been filled with wonder at the endlessly sparkling night sky, or marvelled at the simple beauty of a summer rose and felt our hearts gladden at the miracle that was ours. We would have watched sunrises and spent winter nights blanketed by the warmth of a log fire.
If our voices could have been heard, what verses might we have sung? What chapters might we have added to the story of all our lives? What deeds, great or small, would we have called our own? The world might have tilted slightly with our presence; the complex web that holds us all together might have been spun differently if we had danced our hour upon the stage. Eternity yields no answers to our questions, yet we cannot help but wonder.
Roles had been written for us, anticipating the moment we would burst into their spotlight. Amongst us, you would have found loyal friends, passionate lovers, warm and caring mothers and fathers, or grandparents bursting with pride. Our unfulfilled dreams float in the melancholy world of that which can never be. The novels we might have written, the children we might have raised, the music we might have written; they are lost forever. We may have been the answer to somebody's prayers, or the centre of a family. We could have saved a life, or made a life complete. Whilst some of us would have been celebrated, many of us would have been unknown outside the circle of our own lives. But of this we are certain-throughout our stories there would have run a common thread: the tale of a life well lived.
Like people everywhere we would have laughed for no reason, and shed silent, private tears. We would have sung off key and walked with a bounce in our steps on days when life promised so much, and our joy escaped unbidden. Our tales would have been littered with doubts and regrets, heartbreaks and moments of despair, joy and breathless excitement, but they would have been tales worth telling. Life would have flowed through our veins, and we would have lived every second of it.
With us died the endless possibility of the unknown. With us died our futures and our past, our memories and our dreams. With us died a world that will never be.
