Twenty- six:

''There is another ship.'' Rose breathed out the cold air as they stood on the port-side of the ship. Jack watched just over the horizon, when the glowing lights of a larger ship than the Californian seemed to be steaming towards them. All about them, it seemed to be a whirlwind of activity and chaos. Since coming out to stand upon the decks, she had kept a firm eye for her mother, but she seemed to be nowhere in sight.

''Will it arrive in time?''

Rose blinked her eyes; Jack's stare returned to fix on her and she became paralysed once more and only became aware of the feel of his skin beneath her fingers and then his own fingers as they curled around her own in a way that only lovers would. He was her only tie to reality amongst the absurdity of a night like this.

''Perhaps.''

''It doesn't feel as though the ship is going down.''

''Time will truly tell.''

Clutching onto his shoulder, Jack tried to not expose too much of his pain aloud, but at times, it was beyond his control. It was only now; exhaustion was setting in and his limbs felt both on fire and failing at the very same time. Rose's piercing gaze, her hand within his and the press of her body against his torso in the middle of what felt like a thousand thick crowd was the only focal point for him.

''Jack, we have to get you aboard a lifeboat.''

''I am all right, it is just the jostling about that is paining me.'' He told her, through gritted teeth. ''If people had been so eager to board the lifeboats an hour ago, the decks wouldn't have been so damned full.''

In a large crowd of hundreds, the entire starboard and port side was a jungle of people. Women and children climbed aboard a lifeboat, which would have three or four men aboard to row them off to the safety of the Californian, who in turn sent their own boats to the Titanic to take more passengers to safety in double time. Or, so they hoped.

Titanic herself, still seemed to be the safest place to be. A floating sanctuary. It was only, once you gathered your wits and paid true attention that the tilt of the deck was noticed. With the circus about them, it was hard to notice anything other than the tasks at hand. The port-side and starboard side were both surrounded by those awaiting instruction to board the boats.

On the port-side, they were oddly numbered. Each boat was provided with oars, together with blankets, provisions and flares. The keels were of elm, and the stems and stern post were of oak. They were all clinker built of yellow pine, double fastened with copper nails, clinched over grooves.

The timbers were of elm spaced about 9 inches apart and the seats pitch pine secured with galvanised iron double knees. The buoyancy tanks in the lifeboats were of 18-oz. copper, and of capacity to meet the Board of Trade requirements. Life-lines were fitted round the gunwales of the lifeboats. The davit blocks were treble for the lifeboats and double for the cutters.

They were of elm, with lignum vitae roller sheaves, and were bound inside with iron, and had swivel eyes. Sails for each lifeboat and cutter were supplied and stowed in painted bags. Covers were supplied for the lifeboats and cutters, and a sea anchor for each boat. Every lifeboat was furnished with a special spirit boat compass and fitting for holding it; these compasses were carried in a locker on the Boat deck. A provision tank and water beaker were supplied to each boat.

It was these small details which were protruding Jack's mind, as he waited alongside many others, knowing that as a male, he would not be entitled to a seat within the boat, and rightly so, unless one could be seen as an auxiliary seaman, women and children should be the ones to be sent aboard to safety first. With his meeting with Bruce Ismay, during the time the ship was built, he was reminded of the stark facts which was thrown at him to impress a young, newly inherited steel tycoon and in parts, it had. Now, though, standing amongst what could only be described as a true disaster, the amenities were utterly worthless and it was the number of lifeboats which seemed to be failing them. Across the water, a few hundred feet away, the Californian worked with the crew of Titanic to take in passengers who were already in the lifeboats. The ship sat adjacent to the port side, and those lifeboats launched from the starboard would have to row outwards and then around the large ship, in a move which could take hours to complete, that is if the ship didn't founder before and drag down the lifeboats with its suction.

Jack sucked in another curl of pain, as he was pushed from behind once more, and the knock caused senses to seem to slow right down. There was a wash of red about him. He could make out bits of the conversation. It was as though his hearing was dipping in and out; like trying to tune in the wireless to a connected station. His vision remained red in parts, spots and seemed to shower about before his eyes in a strange vision. What was red? His breathing felt as though it was shallow and his heart rampant.

We will be back aboard by breakfast.

This is ridiculous.

The entire belly is almost flooded, we will tilt soon. We need to evacuate faster but it's too damned cold and noisy for passengers to come outside. Some remain in their staterooms as happy as could be.

I saw icebergs about. Three or four. As large as the rescue ship.

There is another ship about. I saw the flares.

Third class passengers are trapped in the water and the flames below decks.

There are women and children down there who will not have a chance.

There he is, Dawson, the one who rescued the men from the fire.

I am so cold. The water would kill us if we are to be exposed to it.

Get aboard, my little sailor, we will not be separated for long. We can write about this together soon, these little adventures.

Surrounded by each and every different person, who had a different stance of what would happen. Some were content, to stand witness to the approaching dawn and saw the entire charade as nothing more than an adventure to complain bitterly about. Some cried, clinging to their family. Others, such as Spicer Lovejoy, stood dourly and stoic. Morbidly still with just the occasional flicker of his eye, as he stood back alone leaning against the rail. He was like a bodyguard of some kind. His sharp gaze was enough to make anyone shiver, like an eye from beyond the grave. Hockley was stood beside him, dark eyes across the way on the approaching ships or so it seemed but the valet, his eyes were locked on Jack, as though he was in need of reporting every single move of his muscles.

Then, it was apparent to Jack. Something was tormenting his own body. It was the same sorcery as before learning of his parent's deaths. The same tingle he got just before the fire started. The same fire which had claimed his parent's lives. There seemed to be a pattern of some kind, and an uncertain energy fluttered about his body.

In one lunge forward, two men sprinted toward to Rose, breaking through the crowds with an acute precision that it would be hard to move if they were even seen coming, but it was Jack suddenly who was slamming into them both, tumbling against the largest and sending him crashing backwards. Together they tumbled down onto the deck with a clatter and it was then most seemed to comprehend just what had happened. As Jack's reflexes kicked in, he rolled away from the punches which both men had tried to rein down on his face, his chest and stomach. He was already burning up all over from the exposure to the flames but every rein at him was like another set of ammunition pushed into an already loaded gun.

Who were they?

Two.

A series of screams came about. He was tossed about like a fish about to be fried. Chaos erupted, shouts and they echoed about in his mind but he was rare to lose focus, even dragged down by a curl of pain from the fire.

"Umph!" Air came out of Jack's lungs and it felt to burn as though they were his last breath. His knees bent against his will but he managed to block the next punch with his right forearm while reaching blindly for an object with his left...

His heart hammered in his chest. Of course, part of him wanted to fight, to perhaps hurt whoever wished to, in a way that he had caused pain to Rose in the past. The adrenaline which had pumped through him initially had ceased for the moment. The crowds seemed to have stepped back, forming almost a ring about him. Red. It was everywhere. It was warm, across his face, his hands and it trickled down into his lap as he was suddenly on the floor. Blinking once and twice, watery eyes saw past the red and-

''Jack!''

He blinked again.

Blood.

There was no pain.

There was a crack.

Perhaps this was the end of his but how many lives could a man be allowed to have in just one night? Opening his eyes fully for the first time, Jack was faced with what felt like an empty space.

And then a loud BANG! Gunshot.

''Order here!'' The voice cut through the terrified cries of silence, and then it sounded again. Twice this time. ''Order I said!''

Charles Lightoller cut through, his pistol in the air, his eyes wide, with a brave energy.

''We are in the middle of an emergency.''

Lightoller watched after the tallest attacker, who had Rose pinned down to the floor and nodded to another officer. Screams sounded from about them. ''Fetch the Master at Arms.''

Jack's sapphire eyes didn't waver from the darkness before him. The steady rise and fall of his own chest surprised him. Provoking the opponent would not end well, but he needed to end the severity of the situation. The truth was, what good would it do? Allow the Master at Arms to deal with it. Hockley must have been driven mad by jealousy, perhaps they had planned to provoke or hurt Jack in a hope that it would further his injuries. Perhaps it had. What were they thinking? What had happened? Why had Hockley acted so rash and openly? A fit of some kind. Jealousy.

''Mr. Lovejoy, step back!''Lightoller ordered.

"I cannot, I am simply returning what is rightly, Mr. Hockley's property." The valet was out of breath, perhaps unaware of the scandal he had caused or blissfully aware and would relish in the behaviour. In a crowd of this density, what else could have happened?

The only colour in the world to Jack was Rose's hair, rich as rubies, pooling brightly beneath her head. She was on the deck. Eyes closed, motionless, she lay flattened beneath the valet without a hint of movement. Lovejoy was above her, his suit ripped in parts. He was conceding with Rose who gave nothing away. Where was Hockley? He seemed to have disappeared probably as soon as his fit of jealousy had ended.

Lightoller seemed to continue to reason with Lovejoy. Men in the crowds seemed to chant something about leaving her alone. It all sank into one long chorus of noise but then, an unholy noise came from Jack's throat, a devil cry that erupted from the bottom of his soul. No longer aware of his own actions, he sprang at Lovejoy, his entire being occupied with the need to attack and kill. The other man had only a split second to look up before Jack was on him. Lovejoy stopped fighting and brought up his arms to defend his face and head. When the valet was subdued to a groaning heap, Jack reached into his boot and extracted a knife which he had carried through his travels, relishing the feel of it in his hand. He would be satisfied only with death, and nothing would stop him now. All the things he believed in, the strictures of law, fairness, justice, had disappeared like dust in the wind. Nearly demented with bloodlust, he raised the knife in the air. But a muffled sound made him pause. Panting in harsh, irregular bursts, he looked in the direction of the sound. Rose was on her side, watching him, her throat working silently as no sound could escape, her eyes wide and staring. Jack tensed until he shook from repressed force. He couldn't take his gaze from her face. Rose's green eyes seemed to imprison him, preventing him from moving. A thread of sanity penetrated through the first few layers of warlike rage, but he resisted fiercely.

"Turn your face away," he said in a voice that didn't seem to belong to him. Rose shook her head immediately, understanding that he could not bring himself to kill a man while she was watching. "Damn you, look away,"

Rose growled. She did not. Their gazes held, his demonic, hers insistent, until finally she defeated him. He acceded with a low groan and slid the knife back into his boot. Delivering one last blow to Lovejoy, he knocked the man unconscious.

Jack's eyes moved to where Lovejoy's had been and at the far rail, he found the reason. Hockley moved away slowly, edging through the crowds as slow as he could but also with a swift speed, the spectacle now over and all heated gazes were upon him, and him alone. It seemed that in the few minutes that it had taken for the entire thing to unfold, it hadn't been hatched out a plan as one would think. Perhaps they thought Jack would be weak already from the wounds, perhaps they believed that he wouldn't fight. Perhaps the sight of them both there, waiting in the crowds was a sight too much for Hockley to take. Jack wished to find him, tear at him but there was no time. No energy. Nothing left for him.

Perhaps...

Lightoller was in a rage, the Master at Arms had arrived and was questioning. An array of officers came to crowd, to calm. Jack was only aware of the woman laid on the floor, he had been so bent into Hell fire that he hadn't even seen her slip from the crowds before him. Now, though, he was on his knees, falling to them with a sickening crack and completely unaware of the surroundings. He knew he was holding her too tightly, but he couldn't seem to loosen his arms.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault—"

"No, no. Please don't say that." Rose's hands clasped the hard nape of his neck and he winced against the pain but relished the feel of her there.

He buried his face against her bodice with a groan. "Oh, God." He felt her fingers slide gently through his wet hair, slick from the blood and she murmured something soft and indistinguishable. It wasn't evident who was bleeding the most, or where the wounds were but nothing else mattered.

"I'll never let you out of my sight again," he said, his voice muffled against her breast, and she let out an unsteady gasp of laughter. ''It was for the slightest second, but I knew, I just knew that something was to happen.''

"F-fine. That's just fine with me."

''I didn't know they were about to-''

''Shh, stop trying to soothe me, when you are the one who is injured already and yet just taken a man to the floor.''

Jack tried to laugh but it burned his ribs. It ached his soul. ''I would take them both to their graves for you.''

Rose didn't even doubt it, she simply cradled him to her, as tightly as she could. In a slow murmur, the crowds seemed to return and chatter amongst themselves, as though this had been just a minor confusion in the sinking of a ship.

''You won't be going anywhere.'' Her fingers went through his blood-stained hair, trickling down his face and with a surge of adrenaline, she made a promise to herself to ensure his survival. More than her own. More than anything. Kissing his forehead, she tasted the blood, not caring. Not fearing. Fear was long gone. Determination was the only way to take them from this ship.

Jack seemed to have relaxed there, within her arms just for several minutes, and she relished the watch of Spicer Lovejoy been led away by the Master at Arms. Enjoyed seeing the limp which Jack had bestowed upon him. Hoped that Cal would be the one to follow him to a dark and damp place where justice would be served. Rose continued to rhythmically stroke against Jack's head, until a blanket was laid across them. Through blurry eyes, Rose watched as a flare lit up the nights sky as a beacon to signal the rescue ships and then, it shot apart into a thousand shooting stars and as the fire continued to rage and blow outside, the ship creaked and shuddered. The sounds galvanised Jack into some kind of action but then as he stood, the pain seared through him like a spear and Rose's worried gaze was the last thing he recalled before blackness came to claim him.

It does get better from the next chapter again, I promise, these were kinda fillers to progress :)