A/N: Hey readers, I'm very sorry about the delayed update for this Chapter, truth is writers block has been picking a difficult battle for me the past months. Also with juggling other responsibilities, writing has been particularly hard to do. I'm happy to finally post this for you guys :-) I hope you like it. It's quite a long Chapter, but if your a patient reader it will be well worth it. Thanks for all the support and I can't thank those who have reviewed and favourited enough. Your my biggest motivation to keep on writing. If you do have time to leave a review, please do so, I always appreciate the feedback. Once again, thank you and hope you enjoy the fifth chapter to Holding on and Letting Go!

Chapter 5: A Simple Reality

Having been in a faraway state on unconsciousness for the past three days, Jack Dawson was not ready to be awakened by the overwhelming lustre of the ceiling lamp hanging above his cot.

The brightness, unexpected and excruciating, shook through Jack with lightning like intensity immediately forcing him to shut his eyes again. With his pupils burning like cinders, he tried instead to concentrate on the fragments of lingering light that now danced in his closed view. Playfully, the spots moved across the black canvas of his mind, like colourful pebbles being pushed across the sand by ocean surfs. He waited till the last pebble of painted light began to fade, before slowly raising his lids again.

The world came back to him all at once and the sights and sounds of the Carpathia's infirmary blurred into focus. With a squint and a grunt, Jack's felt the overflow of senses wash over him.

He blinked against the searing images that caused tears to stream down his cheeks and against the avalanche of white that greeted him. He looked out to a collection of white steel walls, white sheets, white pillows and white curtains that circled the white cot he was laying on. He was in a dispensary, and the realization made his stomach twist uneasily.

Jack felt uncomfortable being in places like this. It wasn't just because of the dismal atmosphere that seemed to surround him at every turn. His true unease stemmed from the night of the fire.

He remembered having to be dragged kicking and screaming from the burning wreck of the barn his parents had been trapped in. Thrown, into an ambulance and brought to a room just like this one. He had been forced to wait there while the doctors examined his parent's bodies. There was a social worker at his side, her wiry limbs wrapped around his shoulders, her scissor fingers squeezing his arm in a vain attempt to be reassuring. He wanted so badly to shrug her off. To stop smelling her lavender perfume that mixed with the scent of her mothball dress and the bleached clinic floors. No one had the gull to tell him his parents were dead yet. They didn't have to. He had seen the fire, smelled the ash of all his memories and dreams drift through the air into nothingness. He felt the heat of the inferno demon that had stolen his mother's sunlit smile and her sweet tea laughter. Which had robbed him of his father's embrace, and the feeling of his callous covered hands around Jack's body. They were the kind of hugs a man who had worked everyday of his existence just to build a better life for his family could only give.

Eventually the social worker left the room, only to come back a few minutes later with a saddened pout on her face. It was so disingenuous in its delivery Jack wanted to hurl a bedpan at her stupid head. She sat beside him once more on the hospital cot, taking his hands in her lap. She not only had scissor fingers, she also had sandpaper palms.

"I'm very sorry Jack…" she said to him. He didn't hear the rest. His ears rang so loudly that anything she said after made no sense. She ushered him into the back seat of a car. Drove him back to the farm, allowed him to gather a few belongings from the farmhouse and then they were off.

"Where are we going?" the then fifteen-year-old Jack had asked the woman. A woman he had never met before that day. A woman he was supposed to now trust with the rest of his life.

"You can sleep at my house tonight, tomorrow morning we can figure out the rest."

"Can I go home?"

"You can't, not yet Jack."

"When?"

Silence.

"Does this mean I'm going to live in an orphanage now?"

She didn't answer. The rest of the ride was quiet. He didn't cry. Not that night. Not until after she was asleep. After he had slipped out the window of the social worker's guest room. Scuttled across her lawn to the dirt road on which he ran for miles to make it to the Chippewa Fall's train station. There he sold his first sketch, to a hooded man on a station bench. It was a drawing of his mother picking apples off the giant Winesap tree in their front yard. His father, who was lying on the hammock next to her, was all cheekbones and charm as he watched her. It had been one of those truly special moments in their relationship and he managed to capture it perfectly. He grabbed the drawing, along with a few others off his desk in the few minutes the social worker had allowed him. He didn't want to part with it, and held on a few extra seconds while handing it over to the man. Sure he had other nice sketches, but leaving this one behind felt wrong. He tried to barter and sell his others.

"I'll sell you the robin and the sunflower instead? You don't even have to pay me extra."

The man shook his head, "I don't want those."

"What about the kids on the Ferris Wheel?"

Again the man shook his head, still holding onto his end of the sketch. "It's this one or you get nothing."

Jack pierced his lips. How could he do it? How was he supposed to hand over his parents to this random stranger? He could never.

But he did. He let go of the sketch. He allowed the strange man to take them away, and place the few coins in his hand that he needed in order to buy a train ticket. It was a one-way ticket to Minnesota. He didn't cry that night. No, he waited till after he had stepped off the train the next morning. Until his feet had touched new pavement and his bag felt so heavy with guilt, he felt his arm might fall off. He allowed his body to slump, his knees to buckle and his sobs to escape loud and hysterical across the station.

He had left them. Left them to burn in the barn. Left them in the hands of strange man at a train station. Left them behind in Chippewa Falls.

And they had left him, utterly and wholly on his own. Forever.

…

Since leaving Chippewa Falls, Jack had tried to lock away those memories of his parents for good. In fact they were his biggest motivation when it came to travelling. He felt like if he kept himself occupied, on the move and always the wayfarer then he'd never have the chance to get lost in his own head. Still, there were times like this, moments of complete unrest where he had nothing to do but allow his mind to wander.

With a throaty sigh, he rebelled against the thoughts plaguing his mind and instead focused on making sense of where he was. He attempted to recall the events of the past few days, but remembered little besides the darkness that had followed the whistle.

Rose's whistle!

Jack mentally chided himself. So caught up in the weight of his past and the gravity of his revival, she hadn't entered his mind until now.

Glancing around, he could see little past the curtain and in a quick move attempted to sit up and get a better look. Almost immediately his body succumbed to the weight and he fell back against the fabric as though he were emulsified to it. There was little he could do besides lay there like a useless slump. He feared that if he tried to move, the weakness of his limbs would giveaway, crumble beneath him like old concrete would and sift away into powder.

He let out a frustrated groan. Rose had sacrificed her own well being just to bring him to safety, yet she herself was not safely beside him. The thought maddened Jack to no end. All he wanted was to see Rose and confirm what he hoped to be true; that she was alive and death had failed in doing what it threatened to do that night.

He closed his eyes, imagining her smiling like an August rain, pure, warm and all consuming.

For a moment he became lost in that thought. Only when he raised his lids, did Jack feel the suffocation of loneliness begin to set in. The feeling was one he knew all to well, and he thought he had forgotten. Rose had made him vulnerable again. She was someone worth cherishing but also someone who could hurt him.

He wasn't sure how to feel about this. He had gone so long trying to keep himself from caring too strongly for anyone. But in a matter of three days, Rose had shattered his walls to bits. She came storming through, falling into his arms…literally; and he had fallen just as hard for her.

Now all he could do was ask himself, "What If I lost her?"

He knew the likelihood of his own survival was slim. To say they had both survived was near impossible.

But he had survived. Somehow Jack had managed to cheat the odds. Couldn't the same be said for Rose? In the short time he had known her, she had done nothing but surprise him time and time again. They had fought assiduously together against her family and class. She was ready to give up everything just to be with him. How could a love like theirs not persevere?

It was in the middle of Jack's mental sprawling that a man he had never seen before entered the curtain surrounding Jack's cot. The man, a tall thinly built Officer, seemed completely oblivious to Jack lying there awake. Temporarily distracted from his worries, Jack watched in confusion as the Officer took a seat in the chair next to him. With a sandwich pressed between his lips, and a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, the man fumbled to retrieve a book from his Jacket pocket. Once the book was freed, he laid it across his lap flipping through the pages and began to read. Despite his current situation, Jack couldn't help but find man's ignorance amusing. That and the fact that he still had the sandwich pressed between his lips as he read.

After a moment of waiting, it became clear the Officer wasn't going to notice him any time soon and Jack finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Eh hem…"

He didn't mean to startle the man, but he understood why he had. To be honest, hearing his own voice for the first time in days scared even him. He sounded like his vocal cords had been stretched through a meat grinder, and the noise came out more like a monstrous gurgle. The theatrics to follow were much less anticipated.

"Wholly hell!" the man cried out. With a jump to his feat the seat beneath him crashed to the floor with a BANG! The sandwich, which had only seconds ago been ready for the man's consumption was now a mess of scattered food upon the sheets. The mug that had gone flying from his fingers had shattered against the wall. Its steaming contents splashed onto Jack's face, causing him to cry out his own string of blasphemous profanities.

"Jesus Christ!" Jack yelled, as he shook the amber droplets out of his hair and blinked against the coffee that now seeped its way into his orifices. As his vision cleared, he looked up to see the man staring at him. An expression of complete shock and awe spread across his face, eyes wide, mouth pulled into a distinct O shape.

"Y-you're awake…you're actually awake!"

Jack felt a drop of coffee run its way down his cheek, and moaned. "Sure am. Tell me fella, do you always introduce yourself to people like this? Or am I just special?" By now his tone had eased and was practically near normal.

The man let out a small laugh, "I'm very sorry about that, just wait a minute, I'll fetch something to clean that up," he turned to scurry off before stopping in his tracks and doubling back to embrace Jack in tight hug. Jack flinched, unsuspecting of the contact. "She'll be so relieved to see you're awake!" the man whispered, before pulling away and disappearing through the curtain. He had left so quickly, Jack barely had time to comprehend what was said. Eventually he returned, towel in hand, a glass of water in the other and a man in white at his rear.

"I thought it best to have the doctor examine you," the man stated as he picked the remaining food of the sheets. "You've been asleep for quite some time."

Jack didn't know this man, and should have been distrustful of his willingness to be so helpful. If he had learned anything from his time spent on the street, it was that people didn't just help others without expecting something in return. Good intentions always seemed to be hidden behind a much darker guise of deception.

"Please…" The man urged, seeming to sense Jack's apprehension. "It's important we check on your condition."

Perhaps it was just a gut feeling or the way the officer stared back at him, eyes honest and beseeching, but Jack felt there was something about this man he should trust. He had no reason to explain it, but he felt is his guard beginning to fall, allowing the other man in the white robe to approach him.

"Sit up," the Doctor ordered. His voice though not impolite was stern as he rummaged through his pocket, pulling out his tools.

Again Jack attempted to sit up but like the time before he felt his body succumb to the stress. As he did, the Officer stepped forward and in a swift move was at Jack's side, reaching for him.

"Hey! What are you…?" It didn't take long for his words to trail off as the man slung an arm around Jack's torso and carefully hoisted him to a sitting position.

"Better?"

Jack's brows furrowed and he stared at the man with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "Much better, err uh…thank you."

"Now that you're awake you'll have plenty of time to regain your strength."

Jack nodded and the doctor sat next to him. "I must say lad, we weren't so sure you were going to make it." Stethoscope in hand, he placed the diaphragm against Jack's chest ordering him to take a few deep breaths. Jack did as he was told, feeling tension in his chest as he did so.

"You were suffering from a severe case of Hypothermia when you came to us. We administered warm fluid through intravenous on the first night that you arrived, it was the only way we could to stabilize your temperature. But as I would suspect, the drastic toll that the Ocean has taken on your body has also contributed to the acidosis of fresh blood moving through your system."

"Acidosis?" The doctor might as well have been speaking gibberish to Jack, his words making little sense to the broken boy lying on the bed.

"It refers to the increase of acidic material in your blood, thus thrusting you natural PH levels into an imbalance. The condition is often induced from a drastic cooling in one's body temperature. Something you have obviously experienced. While the IV has helped in countering the acidity, you'll have to do your part and keep hydrated in order to encourage fresh and steady blood flow between your heart and lungs. Otherwise your condition could worsen. Simple breathing exercises might prove beneficial as well."

Jack nodded, "So I'm supposed to drink a lot and try to keep breathing? Sounds easy enough."

The doctor's mouth pulled into a straight line, clearly not liking Jack's coy response. "This is really not a matter to be taken lightly young man. That Ocean nearly killed you."

Jack bit his tongue. He hated the way the man spoke down to him as if Jack didn't already understand how lucky he was to be alive.

The doctor didn't seem to notice Jack's irritation as he continued with his examination, pulling a strap from his pocket and wrapping it securely over Jack's forearm. He pumped the bulb of the strap a few times, allowing it to tighten before placing the diaphragm on Jack's wrist and releasing. Listening for a few moments, he hummed and hawed to himself before settling his features into a tight frown. "Blood pressure is quite high, but it's to be expected coming back from such a stressful ordeal." He released Jack from the equipment, patting the items back into the pockets of his Jacket. "The important thing is to keep hydrated, and rested. At this point, that's really all you can do. With mobility your muscles will build their strength again. The body is a curious thing, give it time, and it will heal."

The man stood then, readying himself to exit the curtain before stopping suddenly and turning back to face Jack with a pointed look of curiosity.

"The abrasions on your wrist are taking some time to heal…"

Jack looked down, noticing for the first time since he woke up that there were deep purple bruises winding his wrists from where the handcuffs had been fastened.

The doctor tilted his head slightly, "Odd really…I've never had a patient come to me with handcuffs on their wrist, broken ones at that."

He felt the sting of suspicion dripping from the Doctor's tongue and Jack narrowed his eyes at the man. There was no explaining the entirety of his ordeal to a stranger who clearly already had it in his head that Jack was a criminal. What would he even say?

"Yes sir, you're right, those bruises are from handcuffs. You see I fell in love with a woman who's fiancé framed me for robbery. Got me arrested. Had me chained in a part of the ship where no one would ever find me or hear my calls for help and had the full intention of wanting me dead."

No, this was not a man who would ever understand Jack's love for Rose and why it drove him to do the things he did. He'd judge him for courting a woman above his class, for stepping out of line and for certainly stealing what wasn't his.

He felt the man waiting for an answer and coughed, "About that-

"With all do respect sir, don't you think that he's been through quite enough?" It was the Officer who spoke now. He had his arms crossed, leering at the Doctor with a firm expression of annoyance. "The last thing he needs now is to be accosted with questions and accusations, especially not by someone who will never know what it means to endure what this young man has been through."

Jack pierced his lips, hiding the grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as the doctor's cheeks turned scarlet red with embarrassment.

With quick a glare to the Officer, he turned to Jack, "It's a miracle that you are here son. Many weren't as fortunate. I only hope with the chance you've been given, you'll use this opportunity to make better choices in life."

And without another word, he walked off.

Jack let out a scoff, "Encouraging that one." When he looked over at the Officer he could see that man's mouth was twitching. He stared straight, watching the space in the curtain where the Doctor had just disappeared.

"You alright fella?"

"I apologize for that man. It a sad to see someone shoved so completely far up their own arse."

Jack chuckled, "I wish I could say I'm not used to that sort of thing, but I am. Most people don't tend to see passed what's on the surface. Or don't want to."

The officer sighed, "The important thing is that you're awake and should be back on your feet in a few days." He gave a soft smile, "You really have swell timing too, we'll be docking in New York shortly."

"Docking?"

"We're on the RMS Carpathia," The Officer clarified, "It was the only ship close enough to rescue all the survivors."

Jack felt a deep sadness building within him. He had so many plans for when the Titanic was supposed to dock in New York. He was going to get Fabritzio settled; find him work and a place to live so he could send for his family. Then when he knew his friend could manage, he and Rose were going to travel. He'd show her everything he had promised. She'd experience things she never could in that button down world of gentlemen and well brought up ladies. Rose wasn't one of them, she was a woman…vivacious in every way. He could see the adventurer in her eyes, the longing for her own self-autonomy. Together, they were supposed to face the world head on, no rules, and no barriers. Just two practical strangers, who seemed to understand each other better then blood.

The Officer stared at Jack, "What's wrong?"

Jack shook his head, fighting back a wave of emotion. "I'm just so confused-"

"You've been asleep three days, I can imagine this is all very overwhelming but I'll try to answer what I can."

Three days? Jack couldn't believe that three days had passed, and he had no inkling of the time escaping him.

"What do you remember?"

"Not much," Jack answered honestly. "What happened after the ship sank?"

"We waited," the Officer began, his features falling shamefully, "...For the screams to die down, so we wouldn't get swarmed. The other's they didn't want to, but I forced them to go back. I just couldn't bear leaving so many behind in that water. You were one of the first people we found alive. Though when we pulled you out, we thought you were already gone. I've never seen someone so close to death before."

A realization dawned on Jack, and he looked up incredulously, "You were the voice…"

It wasn't a question. Hearing this man's voice now, Jack was able to finally piece together small fragments of that night. How the man had shouted to him and Rose, calling out to them to hold on. Jack understood now why he had initially trusted this stranger. It was because this was the man who had saved him.

"Name's Harold Lowe."

"Jack Dawson."

"It's good to meet you Jack, I wasn't so sure I'd get the chance to after the other night."

Jack felt his heart thumping in his chest, ready to prod the man for more answers. He had to know what happened to her. "Then you must know Harold, I was with a woman that night-

"Oh I know; she's the reason you are lying here right now. If it weren't for her, we might have overlooked you."

Jack eyebrows furrowed questioningly, "Rose?"

"Yes. She wouldn't let us leave you behind. When she demanded that I check you were breathing, she practically ripped my badge of herself." He chuckled, "You got an amazing woman. I tell yeah, she's barely left your side for more than a minute since we boarded."

He felt his body buzzing with a newfound feeling of effervescence. The energy radiated, tingling under his once numb skin. He felt cognizant, aware for the first time in days that he was not alone. The simple thought was enough to make Jack practically fly of the handle.

"She's alive, whoa!" Jack whooped, his excitement contrasting the dim atmosphere of the infirmary and making Harold start at his out burst. "I knew it, I knew she could do it. Yes Rose!"

"Jack please calm down, remember you need to rest-

Screw rest, Jack thought. Rose was alive and if she was alive he needed to see her.

"Where is she? Why isn't she here?"

"I'm afraid that's my fault, I told her to go for a walk along deck. She looked so exhausted, I thought some fresh air might do her some good."

"Is she alright?" Jack asked, concern washing over his excitement.

Harold nodded, "She's quite alright, please don't think to much of it. She was just so worried about you. With all her attention spent making sure you were taken care of, a part of her seemed to forget she needed to care for herself as well."

Jack frowned, hating himself for putting such a strain on Rose, even if he had never intended to.

He attempted to push himself off the bed and Harold immediately placed two hands on his chest stopping him. "Ah ah wait, where do you think you are going?"

"I can't just stay here, I need to find her."

"No, you need to lay down. She'll be back any minute now."

Jack shook his head, "I've waited three days-I can't wait any longer." He pushed against Harold once more, but the man stood firm, holding him in place. Still weak, Jack could do little to rebel. He looked at Harold, eyes begging, "Harold please I have to see her."

Harold contemplated this for a moment, "I told her I would watch over you, that I wouldn't leave you alone-

"She doesn't even know I'm awake, who knows what must be going through her mind right now. Do you really think she'd want to wait any longer then I do?"

Harold sighed, considering this. Jack knew little about this man but he could sense that in the time he had been a way, Rose had made an impression on him. Perhaps not in the same way she had with him, but in a manner of friendship that Jack could see Harold valued and wanted to keep sacred.

"Alright," Harold finally conceded. "I'll go find her, but you need to stay right here and rest."

Jack grinned, thanking Harold as he stood to retreat through the curtains. "Stay put." Harold ordered one last time, before disappearing.

…

It felt like he had been waiting there for hours, when truthfully only minutes had passed. The anticipation was torturous, as he lay in the cot, every small noise catching his attention and tickling at his impatience. He wondered what it would be like to see her again and what he would say. He felt his body growing nervous, and he could do little to control the tremors running through him. Finally after what seemed an eternity Jack heard the commotion of hurried footsteps running through the infirmary, quiet at first and than bolting and brash in his direction. It happened so suddenly. The curtain was tossed aside, and there she stood. Gasping, eyes swollen, her red curls loose and dripping, cheeks flushed against her pale skin. She was a mess but still, she was completely stunning to him.

Frozen in place, she stared at him with watery eyes. He stared back, breathing deeply.

Silence.

Jack swallowed, daring to speak "Hi…"

It was all he could say in that moment, her mere presence was enough to keep him completely dumbstruck.

Her lips trembled and she walked slowly toward him. He straightened as she came close, sitting beside him on the cot. She looked him over, her eyes wide, as though not sure he was actually awake and in front of her.

He sucked in a breath when her fingertips touched him, caressing the softness of his skin and up his forearm. "You're here," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. He wasn't sure if she was saying this to him, or to convince herself.

"Yeah," Jack simply answered. He felt her energy. Delicate at first as though she were purposely teasing him and then explosive like she had just clutched every nerve in his body, latching on and shaking them like a shockwave. He let out a breath, unable to control his own tears. "We both are."

She looked up and their gaze met. "I can't believe it. I-I thought-

She didn't finish; instead she reached up to place her hand on his cheek. "I was so scared." He leaned into her touch.

"I never wanted to leave you," He answered.

She caressed his cheek, sniffling and letting out an unsure laugh. "I don't know if this is real."

He could say the same.

She leaned in to embrace him tightly. She cried into his neck, and he wrapped his arms around the softness of her body. He held her firmly, tenderly as though any minute, reality would hit and he'd realize it was all a dream.

She squeezed him tighter and he felt the pressure of their chests pressed together.

Her hair was wet against his shoulder. A drop fell from one of the strands, dripping beneath the cloth of his shirt and down his back.

Real.

He felt the warmth of her breath against his chin as she pulled back, her face only inches from his.

So real.

He closed the distance and their lips touched, parting against one another's. She tasted sweet, and he indulged in every second of kissing her.

In that moment he knew it, and so did she. Nothing could make them doubt what they were feeling. They had survived…and together they were going to build their own reality.

…