Disclaimer/Note: I don't own any of the characters/places/ideas that are
not of my own creation. (Yeah, haven't heard that one before a fanfic.)
*
Also note that this is based more on the television version of Highlander,
but there are the occasional Connor cameos and references. And the
characters we all know and love from Highlander the Series (Mac, Amanda,
Darius, Fitz) won't be making an appearance until a little later in the
story, so don't fret, Highlander fans, I didn't just take the concepts from
the show and breathe them into Titanic characters.
Enjoy the story.
Dante's Prayer - Loreena McKennitt
When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone
I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars
Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me
Please remember me, ...
Chapter One - Awakening
They say that thirty seconds before you die of hypothermia you get a warm sensation. Early in the morning of April 15, 1912 Jack Dawson felt this sensation through his dying body as he hung there in the water unconscious.
He awoke to a new sensation. Air pumping through his lungs, immersed in the cold water, his head throbbed. Underwater again and panicked, he kicked and flailed, trying to reach the surface. It was dark everywhere. He couldn't see a single thing.
After minutes of struggle he felt his hand the cold air and the sensation of splashing water. With one hard push with his leg his head burst out from the watery abyss and he let out a loud gasp. Flailing and kicking again, he tried to grab for anything and found a piece of driftwood.
He climbed aboard as thoughts and memories flooded his head. Where was he? What happened? Soon enough he remembered.
Rose.
Where was Rose? She had been right where he now lied. But she was gone. Where did she go? Growing frantic he looked around. It was a graveyard. There were hundreds of bodies. The last few left hanging on had grown silent and Rose was missing. As began to think more clearly he realized something was out of place.more out of place then Titanic being under that is.
His vision was not blurred as last he remembered when his eyes closed on Rose. He could hear fine too. Not muffled sounds. Everything was pitch clear. And his body did not feel numb. Every bit of pain from the cold he felt. He was shivering again.
In the distance he could see fading lights. It must be the lifeboats, he thought. He prayed Rose was on one of them.
"Help!" he shouted for them. His voice was surprisingly strong, so strong he scared himself. It didn't make sense. But shouted several more times until it became painfully obvious that the boats were too far away, even with the new power in his lungs.
There was nothing left to do but die. And he did. Slowly, the pain went away and he did not feel cold anymore. His eyes grew heavy as he sunk back onto the board. He lay there for endless minutes until he fell asleep and his life faded away.
Hours later Jack was awake again with the same sensations of air rushing through his lungs and he gasped once more. It was daylight now and the gray dawn left a bitter taste from the night before. He gripped his hair with his right hand and his stomach with his left. Nausea swept over as the worst headache of his life set in. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the dead bodies.
Then another sensation swept over. It was not one he had ever felt before.nor one he could ever explain. It was some physical feeling, almost like a buzz. It was as if it was inside him and all around him. It was a presence. Yes, it had to be. Like there was some one else there.
With one loud thump, rocking his board Jack flipped over feet first and tumbled into the icy water.
"Ah! Ack!" he growled, desperately confused and afraid. A wet hand slipped over his mouth.
"You won't wake them, but you're barking will ring the piss out of my ears, boy." The hand turned Jack's head and he met Tommy Ryan's face.
"Tommy.?"
"That's right," said Tommy, "keep calm and I'll take care of ya."
"You're alive too."
"It's not the first time.just get yourself back up there and I'll talk." Tommy gave a good push of the leg just as he the day before, helping him to pursue that beautiful girl he'd been after. Tommy tested the board around the sides. "Hold on a bit, I'm comin' up."
After they were both settled lying on the driftwood, propped up with their elbows they were silent again. A ray of pink escaped through the gray morning clouds.
"Ever wonder how much beauty there can be among all this death?" Tommy spoke after a long time had past.
"Seems an awful strange time for small talk, don't you think?" Jack turned and looked him in the eyes.
"Did you lose her?" Tommy asked.
"When I blanked out she was right where we are now. When I came to.she was gone."
"Then they picked her up. Don't worry, Jack, she's alive then."
"Then what are we?" If Rose was indeed alive as Tommy claimed, what did they do now?
"We're hard to kill," said Tommy. "You more than a survivor, Jack, you're an immortal."
"Come again?" First he was sitting pretty and in perfect health amongst a disaster area, Rose had disappeared, Tommy Ryan had appeared and he had just told him he was immortal.
"You didn't wake up after Rose was gone. You came back to life. You knew you were dying; nobody stays in below freezing temperatures completely vulnerable.all night.and lives. Can you explain it in any other way?"
"It doesn't make sense," Jack said distantly. It wasn't logical. Once you die.you're dead.but it was the only way to explain what had happened. Unless he was dreaming.
But.then again.the mystery surrounding his parents' death.and everything else. He shut his eyes, trying to block it all out. It was easy to forget when Tommy started regaling him with his incredible life story.
"I was born Tomás Ó Riain in 1370 in Tullow, in what is now County Carlow. I was a warrior. When I was twenty-four I was killed in battle, following the King of Leinster, Art McMurrough Kavanagh against Richard II. We were in Kellistown and it was supposed to be a peace engagement...guess it wasn't. When I came back, they thought I was cursed and banished me. I left Tullow, left Ireland. I didn't know what I was. I hated them all. I hated myself. I spent my life hating the English, so now that everything was backwards I visited London, then through France and Spain. I decided while I was bound to no one and nothing I would do whatever I wanted.have all the eat and drink and women I wanted. I was invincible so I'd make the world my own. It was a lonely five years when no one you know loves you or cares.and every now and then some man, and as I find out, some woman of all things comes at me, wanting a challenge and I'm tired of fighting and most anything else by this point, and every time I can feel 'em comin'. You know the feeling I'm talkin' about?" "Yeah, I felt it when you came."
"That's right. One day I'm up and down the French country side and it comes again.a hum within me and-"
"All around you," Jack helped.
"Right," Tommy said, nodding at the boy, "And there is the most elegant lady I've ever seen, looked like she was carved from porcelain. This is usually the time where I go for my sword, but she was so beautiful and so graceful. I couldn't move. But instead of her trying to kill me and me runnin' away in a drunken fit, she offers to take me back to her home, at the Abbey of St. Anne. Her name was.or rather is Rebecca Horne. Taught me how to read and write. I was in love with her for those first few days.then she became the tough teacher. She was the first woman I ever loved as a friend. Taught me everything I needed to know about fighting like an immortal. I'd been in battle with a sword before but killin' you're average Englishmen is different then killin' an immortal.I'll break it to ya this way, Jackie, you CAN die, you-"
"Have to cut off the head," Jack said bluntly.
"Yes, you have to-what did you just say?"
"You have to cut off our heads, then there's a lightening storm."
"How do you know that, son?"
"I saw it once when I was fifteen. The night my parents died, a family friend, Dan Patterson died. No one knew his real name; he was one of the Chippewa that lived near the border of town, not far from my family's farm. He had something to do with some historical society my parents belonged to or something. That's how they all died."
"You saw a Quickening?"
"If that's what it's called."
Enjoy the story.
Dante's Prayer - Loreena McKennitt
When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone
I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars
Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
Please remember me
Please remember me, ...
Chapter One - Awakening
They say that thirty seconds before you die of hypothermia you get a warm sensation. Early in the morning of April 15, 1912 Jack Dawson felt this sensation through his dying body as he hung there in the water unconscious.
He awoke to a new sensation. Air pumping through his lungs, immersed in the cold water, his head throbbed. Underwater again and panicked, he kicked and flailed, trying to reach the surface. It was dark everywhere. He couldn't see a single thing.
After minutes of struggle he felt his hand the cold air and the sensation of splashing water. With one hard push with his leg his head burst out from the watery abyss and he let out a loud gasp. Flailing and kicking again, he tried to grab for anything and found a piece of driftwood.
He climbed aboard as thoughts and memories flooded his head. Where was he? What happened? Soon enough he remembered.
Rose.
Where was Rose? She had been right where he now lied. But she was gone. Where did she go? Growing frantic he looked around. It was a graveyard. There were hundreds of bodies. The last few left hanging on had grown silent and Rose was missing. As began to think more clearly he realized something was out of place.more out of place then Titanic being under that is.
His vision was not blurred as last he remembered when his eyes closed on Rose. He could hear fine too. Not muffled sounds. Everything was pitch clear. And his body did not feel numb. Every bit of pain from the cold he felt. He was shivering again.
In the distance he could see fading lights. It must be the lifeboats, he thought. He prayed Rose was on one of them.
"Help!" he shouted for them. His voice was surprisingly strong, so strong he scared himself. It didn't make sense. But shouted several more times until it became painfully obvious that the boats were too far away, even with the new power in his lungs.
There was nothing left to do but die. And he did. Slowly, the pain went away and he did not feel cold anymore. His eyes grew heavy as he sunk back onto the board. He lay there for endless minutes until he fell asleep and his life faded away.
Hours later Jack was awake again with the same sensations of air rushing through his lungs and he gasped once more. It was daylight now and the gray dawn left a bitter taste from the night before. He gripped his hair with his right hand and his stomach with his left. Nausea swept over as the worst headache of his life set in. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the dead bodies.
Then another sensation swept over. It was not one he had ever felt before.nor one he could ever explain. It was some physical feeling, almost like a buzz. It was as if it was inside him and all around him. It was a presence. Yes, it had to be. Like there was some one else there.
With one loud thump, rocking his board Jack flipped over feet first and tumbled into the icy water.
"Ah! Ack!" he growled, desperately confused and afraid. A wet hand slipped over his mouth.
"You won't wake them, but you're barking will ring the piss out of my ears, boy." The hand turned Jack's head and he met Tommy Ryan's face.
"Tommy.?"
"That's right," said Tommy, "keep calm and I'll take care of ya."
"You're alive too."
"It's not the first time.just get yourself back up there and I'll talk." Tommy gave a good push of the leg just as he the day before, helping him to pursue that beautiful girl he'd been after. Tommy tested the board around the sides. "Hold on a bit, I'm comin' up."
After they were both settled lying on the driftwood, propped up with their elbows they were silent again. A ray of pink escaped through the gray morning clouds.
"Ever wonder how much beauty there can be among all this death?" Tommy spoke after a long time had past.
"Seems an awful strange time for small talk, don't you think?" Jack turned and looked him in the eyes.
"Did you lose her?" Tommy asked.
"When I blanked out she was right where we are now. When I came to.she was gone."
"Then they picked her up. Don't worry, Jack, she's alive then."
"Then what are we?" If Rose was indeed alive as Tommy claimed, what did they do now?
"We're hard to kill," said Tommy. "You more than a survivor, Jack, you're an immortal."
"Come again?" First he was sitting pretty and in perfect health amongst a disaster area, Rose had disappeared, Tommy Ryan had appeared and he had just told him he was immortal.
"You didn't wake up after Rose was gone. You came back to life. You knew you were dying; nobody stays in below freezing temperatures completely vulnerable.all night.and lives. Can you explain it in any other way?"
"It doesn't make sense," Jack said distantly. It wasn't logical. Once you die.you're dead.but it was the only way to explain what had happened. Unless he was dreaming.
But.then again.the mystery surrounding his parents' death.and everything else. He shut his eyes, trying to block it all out. It was easy to forget when Tommy started regaling him with his incredible life story.
"I was born Tomás Ó Riain in 1370 in Tullow, in what is now County Carlow. I was a warrior. When I was twenty-four I was killed in battle, following the King of Leinster, Art McMurrough Kavanagh against Richard II. We were in Kellistown and it was supposed to be a peace engagement...guess it wasn't. When I came back, they thought I was cursed and banished me. I left Tullow, left Ireland. I didn't know what I was. I hated them all. I hated myself. I spent my life hating the English, so now that everything was backwards I visited London, then through France and Spain. I decided while I was bound to no one and nothing I would do whatever I wanted.have all the eat and drink and women I wanted. I was invincible so I'd make the world my own. It was a lonely five years when no one you know loves you or cares.and every now and then some man, and as I find out, some woman of all things comes at me, wanting a challenge and I'm tired of fighting and most anything else by this point, and every time I can feel 'em comin'. You know the feeling I'm talkin' about?" "Yeah, I felt it when you came."
"That's right. One day I'm up and down the French country side and it comes again.a hum within me and-"
"All around you," Jack helped.
"Right," Tommy said, nodding at the boy, "And there is the most elegant lady I've ever seen, looked like she was carved from porcelain. This is usually the time where I go for my sword, but she was so beautiful and so graceful. I couldn't move. But instead of her trying to kill me and me runnin' away in a drunken fit, she offers to take me back to her home, at the Abbey of St. Anne. Her name was.or rather is Rebecca Horne. Taught me how to read and write. I was in love with her for those first few days.then she became the tough teacher. She was the first woman I ever loved as a friend. Taught me everything I needed to know about fighting like an immortal. I'd been in battle with a sword before but killin' you're average Englishmen is different then killin' an immortal.I'll break it to ya this way, Jackie, you CAN die, you-"
"Have to cut off the head," Jack said bluntly.
"Yes, you have to-what did you just say?"
"You have to cut off our heads, then there's a lightening storm."
"How do you know that, son?"
"I saw it once when I was fifteen. The night my parents died, a family friend, Dan Patterson died. No one knew his real name; he was one of the Chippewa that lived near the border of town, not far from my family's farm. He had something to do with some historical society my parents belonged to or something. That's how they all died."
"You saw a Quickening?"
"If that's what it's called."