Jack pretty much no idea what to do. He had placed Rose gently on the bed, and she still hadn't woken up. He had no idea how to treat unconscious women, so he figured letting her wake up on her own would be the best idea.

He scratched the back of his neck and looked around the room. He had no idea what had triggered Rose's little fit. He had gone and stood out next to her and she had suddenly started shaking like a leaf.

Jack had to admit, in this moment he felt extremely helpless. He wanted to help this woman, but had no idea how to. He sighed. He was stupid, he really was. He never should have offered for Rose to join him, but she had seemed eager, and he was definitely drawn to her somehow.

He took one last glance at Rose, who looked to be sleeping soundly at the moment, and walked across the room to his pack. He figured they would be staying in this room for a while, so unpacking wouldn't hurt. Being a homeless man, he didn't have that many possessions.

Reaching his arm into the bag, he first pulled out a ten dollar bill. He had shoved the rest of the money into Fabrizio's bag, and he fervently hoped that would at least get him somewhere. Jack felt horrible about letting Fabrizio board without him, but he figured he would be okay.

Next, he pulled out a necklace. It wasn't much, it certainly wasn't flashy, it was a simple silver chain with a green emerald sphere at the end, but it was the only item Jack had brought with him when he left his family. It was his mother's favorite necklace, and she had given it to him when he turned fifteen, telling him to find a nice girlfriend to give it to. He had been extremely embarassed about it at the time, but now it was all he had to remind himself of his old life. No longer was he the charming boy who had all the girls in the town, no, he was the poor homeless guy who made his own luck.

Finally, he pulled out his portfolio. Jack had many talents, even if he wouldn't admit it, being pretty humble, but drawing was by far his favorite. He had been drawing since a very young age, since before he could remember. It had always been his escape from his troubles, and now, glancing back at Rose, Jack felt like he needed to release some of his artistic abilities.

He slowly walked over to the couch next to the bed and pushed it farther away from the bed. Flopping down ungracefully, he opened his portfolio with his charcoals inside. He flipped to a new paper and blew charcoal dust off of it. Then he started to draw.

He started drawing without knowing what he was drawing, he just needed to ket the creative juices out. But soon, he was drawing slender curves, curly hair, a peaceful face with eyes closed. Rose. As he came to this realization, he paused, just for a moment. The drawing was nearly completed, but her face wasn't done. Jack steeled his nerges and gave the paper a few more soft strokes.

He leaned back and looked at his work. Rose was a beautiful model, her beauty shining through, even on the paper, even in her sleep. Jack looked up at the real Rose. She was snoring slightly, her mouth parted the tiniest bit. He smiled slightly, the sight was very calming. He slowly stood up from his position on the couch, closing his portfolio after signing the drawing and putting the date on it.

He felt a little worn out after all the day's events, and it was getting late in the afternoon, nearly five o clock, Jack figured. He yawned and after placing his portfolio carefully on the coffee table in front of him, fell onto the couch and quickly fell asleep.

xXxXx

Jack woke up from his sleep with a slight headache. He had had the strangest dream, he had been on the Titanic with Fabrizio and had talked to an Irish man, at least, Jack assumed because his accent had been quite strong. But then he noticed Rose on the level above him and had again been taken aback by her beauty. He hadn't realized he had been staring until Fabrizio had waved his hand in front of his face, and he could still hear the Irish guy's words before he had woken up: "You'd as like to have angels fly out of your arse than get next to the likes of 'er."

That was true enough, Jack thought, standing up and stretching his back. Rose was obviously way above his level, and used to much grander than what he could offer her.

Suddenly, Jack noticed Rose was shaking again. He hurried over to her, worried. She was shaking harder than earlier, grasping the pillow with both hands, but she didn't appear to be conscious yet, but Jack could hear her whimpering.

"Rose?" He whispered tenatively. She continued to shiver and mutter under her breath. He scanned the room quickly, to see if there were any other blankets. Spotting one, he grabbed it and hurriedly placed it over Rose, hoping it would do something.

To Jack's dismay, it still did nothing and Rose looked like she was causing an earthquake, and her mutterings were getting louder.

"No..."

Jack's head snapped towards her. Was she awake? No, she was still talking in her sleep. He inched closer to her, wanting to something, anything, but he couldn't think of anything that would help.

"Jack..."

She was talking to him in her sleep? Jack scratched his head worriedly. Why was she shaking so badly? Suddenly, Jack couldn't take the sight of her anymore. He leaned on the bed and gently shook her awake. Slowly, the shaking subsided and her eyes opened.

"Hey."

She stared up at him, as if the word was alien.

"Are you gonna be alright? You got me worried there," Jack said, standing back up.

"What...?" She seemed to struggle to get the word out.

"You fainted or something out on the balcony," Jack explained. "I brought you in here, and you slept for a while, but you started shaking and muttering in your sleep, so I woke you up."

"Muttering?" Rose looked fearful. Why? To what he might think of her talking in her sleep?

"Yeah...mostly it was nonsense, but right before I woke you up I heard 'no' and then...you said my name," he said apolegitically, seeing how she looked embarassed.

"I'm sorry, I was having a nightmare," she said vaguely. Jack wasn't about to push her about that, he could tell she wasn't ready.

"Yeah...but will you be okay? You were out cold for a long time," he told her, concerned.

Rose sat up and hugged her arms. "Sorry...I don't know what that was. I...that hasn't happened in a while..."

Jack sat down on the edge of the bed. "That used to happen a lot?" He didn't want to make Rose uncomfortable, but he wanted to understand her better.

"Yes..." Rose clasped her hands in her lap and stared down at them. "I...lost...someone...and I didn't take it well."

"I'm sorry..." Jack said immediatly. He knew loss too, and he understood what Rose was going through. Or at least...he thought he did. He noticed Rose studying him with a look filled with...irony?

"It's okay, I've gotten over it, at least, to a point where I'm not having mental breakdowns," Rose sighed, still studying him. Jack stared back.

"I'm still sorry. I'm sure you were very close if your pain is still that extreme," he said compassionately. "I lost my mom when I was sixteen, I know how you feel."

Rose looked at him such an odd look that he could almost hear her thinking: but do you know how I feel? Really?

He quickly stood uo from the bed. "Well, Rose, it's gotten late. Are you hungry?"

She looked up suddenly. "Oh, I hadn't even realized...but yes, I am."

He smiled at her. "How about we go out for dinner? I know a nice place downtown, it's really beautiful in the evening, we can take your mind off things."

She grinned back, but he could tell she was still shaken from her little episode.

"That sounds lovely, Jack."