I have six chapters left of this now! I cannot thank you all enough for bearing with me so long writing this! It was truly so hard to do!

Chapter sixteen:

A glimpse of sunlight leaked through a chink in the clouds, chasing the bruised clouds away from the now glistening sky. Through the heavy curtains, the morning light allowed itself into the stateroom and with the fresh looking morning, it seemed to cut through some of the tension leftover from last night.

Jack sat upright. He rested himself against the Divan couch which he had slept on and exhaled slowly, feeling as bruised as could possibly be. The interruption of his sleep had caused a clouded mind but as he received a breakfast tray of boiled ham, toast and mushrooms, tomatoes and various fruits, he accepted it gratefully. Rose had requested another portion of toast and fruits, and soon after, stood examining a telegram before slowly picking at her toasted bread and butter.

Rose watched as his back seemed to curve at the bottom, as though his spine could not accommodate his weight. Rose sat beside him; a blanket entwined around her legs. She sipped tea daintily and refused to take her eyes away from him. He was pale, shaking and weak. They had exchanged little words since the night before. They were simply grateful for the company of the other after the storm which felt to have ripped apart the ship.

At the moment though, Rose's concern lay with Jack. It wasn't just his shivering which worried her but as he had finished his bread, his eyes seemed to sparkle a little less than before as she held out a tea cup to offer him a drink. He watched her and gratefully accepted.

''Thank you.''

Tears pricked in her eyes. She took a moment to glance about the cabin and how, somehow, it was comforting and safe to have another with her. Jack held the tea cup out to give back to her.

''Finish it,'' she smiled, warmly. ''I cannot drink anymore tea.''

Jack sipped it again.

''I could use a beer.''

She couldn't help but smile.

''Yes, I think you do.''

His smile faded; his eyes lingered on her for a moment more before he seemed to retreat to his reverie of thoughts. Oh, how Rose wished she could know the contents of his head. He exhaled slightly, sighing it out.

''Are you tired?''

He could only nod.

Time seemed to pass in such slow motion. An exchange of their glances spoke a thousand words. She had to look away for a moment and heard Jack clattering the breakfast tray. She finished her own slice of toast in a struggle. This morning felt so very different. She could feel the aftermath of the storm. Terribly so. Biting back the tears, she turned her attention back to Jack.

He was asleep. This time, Rose held his head as he was propped on her lap. It was a very intimate thing to do with a man that she had barely acquainted herself with and yet her fingers couldn't help but run through his hair. It felt just the way she thought it would. Since the moment she had seen the way it had fallen into those eyes which she had grown to trust so much. Never had she felt a maternal pull, but the need to bring him some comfort held her in place.

How I wished things were different.

Watching Jack sleep felt wonderful; the freckles which were speckled over his nose, the small scars on his forehead and she couldn't help but wonder if he had contracted chickenpox as a child. Each part of his face seemed to tell a story and the urge to be submerged into his history niggled. An orphan at fifteen? Travelling the world, across oceans and all alone at such a tender age. Somewhere along the way he must have met friends. Somewhere he may have had a love affair. There would be so many stories for him to tell and she would gladly listen to him speak for so many hours.

Rose felt the ship rock rhythmically as though it was offering some solstice to the passengers but it did nothing to soothe her own stomach. Tenderly, she swept a hand across his forehead. From the way he breathed she could tell he was in a deep sleep; he could be there for hours. She had no intention of moving and just as her own eyes seemed to be closing to join him in sleep, he was mumbling awake.

''Jack?''

As soon as his eyes opened, they seemed to fill Rose's universe. His gaze settled on her as he attempted to sit upright. He momentarily stretched, the ache filling his bones and he tried to move himself but physically couldn't, Rose placed her left hand beneath his neck as though she was cradling a child's head and moved him into an upright position as she did so. She could barely see in the dim light but well enough to take notice that his features were not as pale and he was better rested.

''You're still here,'' he whispered, softly. She reached out to grasp his hand, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. It felt warm for the first time and he didn't recoil from the intimate gesture.

''You fell asleep on my lap.''

He rubbed his aching neck with his left hand pulling a face of discomfort. ''I'm sorry,'' he rested his other hand over hers, a look of forlorn crossed his face. ''I seemed to have slept better knowing that you were here.''

''I couldn't leave. I had to know you were all right.''

She remembered his words to her before. I can't turn away without knowing you'll be all right. That is all that I want.

It was now her turn to feel that way completely and utterly about him.

''When I came aboard, I just had to know that this was what you wanted. I tried to look for you all over.''

''I found you.'' She cut him off. ''You were in my thoughts the entire time, Jack, since I came aboard.'' For the first time her voice broke as she choked. She had tried so hard to remain strong but it seemed to have slowly crept upon her the past few hours as she had been left alone with her thoughts. Now, faced with the reality of what could have possibly happened to either of them; Rose felt physically sick. Perhaps, like her own Mother and Cal, she was in a state of denial, too. They had claimed that she was a survivor of the Titanic; denials. Too afraid to admit the truth; that Rose DeWitt Bukater, a daughter and a fiancee, had run away seconds before boarding the Titanic. ''Stupid, really.'' His hand covered hers entirely. ''I don't quite know how to return to being a wife in practice. After the sinking, after the storm, after you...'' Rose furrowed her brow, hearing how ridiculous she sounded aloud compared to the situation of others. ''We are people of little importance, yet, Cal believes we should be treated like utter royalty.'' Rose looked at him squarely. ''My name appears on the list of survivors along with my mother and Cal's. As though I was aboard. As though I survived.''

Jack lightly exhaled as a short laugh but he grasped his side as he did.

''Are you hurt?''

He shook his head. ''Just the aches.''

She swallowed back tears. ''What happened?''

''I found my way back down to the cargo hold after leaving you last night.'' He hesitated for just a moment. The darkness hid the shade of his face but Rose knew from the tone that he was hurt. Her lips were caught between her teeth once more. Raising his hand, he touched her top lip for just the briefest second. It was a gesture for her to stop. To stop worrying. To stop feeling so nervous. But she couldn't help but. As soon as his finger touched her lip, Rose felt the shiver up her spine but it wasn't from the cold; the two were staggeringly different. She released her lip from the grip of her teeth and relaxed her mouth as best she could but still kept her lips parted, resisting the urge to gasp for air.

She was silent for a moment. Neither of them could even speak words to the other. What could be offered? Nothing else could transpire between them. Nerves were one thing but his survival meant everything to her. How could one make him aware of that?

Jack's hand lowered to his lap.

''How are your Mother and Cal?'' He asked quietly. ''I am glad to hear they had survived.''

She raised her eyes to his, surprised by his change of topic. ''They are well, thank you,'' she surprised herself by how her tone changed to become curt and clipped, almost as though she was addressing a stranger and she had reverted to the way one should act in her own world.

Jack shuffled so that he sat with his legs crossed opposite Rose. His left hand ran an index finger around the rim of the cup. His eyes glanced at it. He thought of her words to him last night…

I'm marrying Cal, I love Cal…

''He should be with you.'' Jack whispered. ''His duty is to take care of you.''

Rose found his words touching and then in that moment, she slipped up. ''It is I, who escaped his company,'' she told him, ''It is I who chose to leave my fiancé in what should have been a happy time and now, it feels as though my heart is elsewhere.''

Rose's words lit a warm feeling somewhere in his stomach which he had never encountered before. There were glimpses of this woman who he had met just one week ago. The two were a stark difference. It seemed to encourage him to speak to her the way he had before; without the need to hold back.

''I see you Rose, when you talk about him you become one of them, so normal, the lights maybe on but nobody's there,'' he sighed ''and then when we were in Southampton, I saw the light there. Glimpses appeared when you spoke of becoming an actress and of your dreams but I knew from then that you weren't one of them. That you could never be like they are.''

She lowered her head, the day felt so long ago beyond her dreams. ''I have never opened myself that way before.''

He watched as she seemed to be almost ashamed. ''I think you will achieve them one day. Those dreams that you spoke of.''

''In my world?'' She laughed, mockingly. ''No, Jack. I am far away now more than ever. The wedding is to be very soon, I fear and I will return to Philadelphia with nothing but memories of this trip.'' She felt a hot tear run down her face but he didn't see in the darkness. ''I have to bury my feelings; this past week will stay with me forever but I have to-'' she stopped mid-sentence; she didn't know what she had to do. It was as though all words had failed and she had an 'off' button. If she continued to speak, she knew that truths would be revealed which she didn't even realise herself yet.

His hand automatically came up and his palm rested against her face. She gasped quietly, not from surprise but from the feeling which stirred in her stomach.

''Don't talk like that, Rose. We all have choices.''

She closed her eyes and allowed herself a few moments to saviour his hand.

''What choice do I have? I have sent the telegraph already to inform them both. He shall be waiting for me and once I return, I cannot go back on my word.''

His eyes shone in the dimness and he pursed his lips as he sighed. ''You told me that you loved him.''

''No.'' She whispered, calmly. ''I-I truly believe that perhaps once upon a time, I did, or felt somewhat infatuated.'' Turning to Jack, she was aware of how startling her feelings were for him, in comparison, and it was frightening.

There was a tenderness and a torment right there in the way in which Jack seemed to see into her very soul.

''Infatuations never last.''

Rose smiled weakly, raising to a stance and going towards the porthole. Rose felt she had to put some distance between them. They could both feel something there, between them. Their eyes met but then they looked away, the power too much for both of them. Jack began to back away from her and then, started to her. She realised he had more to say, this between them felt much more different than it had done before. It was so much stronger and seemed to be drawing her closer and closer to him. Such a small thing a person forgets, such as how to breathe, when feeling like a deer dazzled by a bright lamp. She felt so tight and breathless. He came towards her a little; he didn't know what to say.

''No, I don't suppose they do. I hear that one suffers. It is the same as when two people marry for love; that love shall fade one day and all that is left is a large gaping hole and miserable children. I am the product of a marriage made in the name of business. My father was from a prominent family and married my mother who had connections to old English heritage. I am, therefore, required to follow suit. My heart may not truly lie with Caledon Hockley, but my marriage should flourish, or least be content.''

''Oh, Rose.'' He whispered, breathlessly. ''Is that what you think?''

She couldn't really think, then. Not past his piercing gaze. Not past his shirt, exposing most of his upper chest. She had never seen a man in such a state of undress and suddenly, her mouth was truly dry.

''Yes, what other evidence is there to support the contrary?'' Rose laughed, sarcastically. ''I have no evidence at all. Is love truly real?''

''Yes, it is.'' Jack came closer to her, suddenly aflame with something.

''What is happening here?'' She asked slowly and quietly. ''I feel strange, and now...'' She went off, dazzled even more. Jack knew that she was acknowledging something too. There was so much between them.

''Have you ever been in love?''

She shook her head with Jack still touching her cheek.

''I cannot save you from anything.'' Rose was quiet for a moment. She didn't know where this was leading. ''But I can support you, any damned way that you wanna be.''

''The night prior to us meeting, Cal nor my Mother had spoken one word to me all evening.'' She could feel the tightness in her throat just like that night.

Jack listened intently.

''I excused myself as quickly as I could and went back to my room to find Trudy, my maid, there was no sign of her.'' She shakily placed her hand on top of Jack's. ''I needed to get undressed for bed and so I tried to do it myself-I couldn't.'' She hung her head almost ashamed. ''I was calling out for her like a child would its mother.''

''And, now you've survived alone for this long.''

''A week,'' she laughed incredulously, ''hardly a lifetime.'' She slumped back against the wall. Even looking pale and tired, Jack felt like a safe harbour to her but he was also a danger to her future. To her feelings.

''A car will meet me at the docks, Cal reached home along with my mother, I received a telegram in return of my own. It arrived this morning along with breakfast.''

''That is good news.''

Suddenly, entrapment engulfed her once more.

With the sudden change, Rose ran her eyes downward towards his dishevelled clothes and ill-fitting garments.

''I took the liberty of asking for better, well, less, um-'' she stumbled, not wishing to offend him. ''A kind steward had bought me two dresses that seem to be more appropriately tailored for me since I have very little clothing with me. He also fetched a few male items which I thought could be of use to you? I have warm running water and a spare towel.''

''Of course. Thank you.''

The thoughts of Jack, without his clothes, bathing in the same tub which she had laid within the night before made every single hair on her body seem to stand up. Her heart hammered. Her eyes were heavy as she leant against the cool wall which set off the goosebumps across her body. The window pane of the porthole rattled with each slight gale of wind and whilst it had frightened her to begin with, she had now grown used to the sound. It was amazing how fast one can adapt to new surroundings.

As soon as Jack had stepped away from her, she started to breathe better once more. Her erratic heart calmed and as she glanced about the cabin, it dawned on her that they would be reaching New York possibly within the next day, perhaps two.

With the sound of the water now running, Rose was sure that Jack was bathing, removing his clothes and stepping into the warmth of the tub. And that frightened her. Suddenly, everything about her seemed to disappear and the rush of the water even separated by walls was starting to cause her heart to accelerate just that bit more.

Then, it was dawning, damned slowly…but dawning. Cal had never been an infatuation. Not even in passing. Not even a slight attraction.

She was infatuated by Jack Dawson.

And that would be the true danger. The true test of her strength to leave him behind and all that they had encountered.