Glad that everyone's enjoying the story, so far! Although I haven't been replying to the comments, they're greatly appreciated and they make me HAPPY!

This chapter also has some strong language, but only where I found it appropriate. Thanks again!

~Jillianna

Disclaimer: Chapter One.

"You just make yourself comfortable, okay, love? And don't even worry if you need to wake me up for anything. I'm just in this room right over here. I'm a very light sleeper. I trust you know where the bathroom and kitchen are?" Rose nodded, wrapping the blanket more tightly around her shoulders and sinking into the couch cushions.

"Thank you very kindly, Ted. You're truly a wonderful man," she whispered, her voice weak. She hadn't yet told Ted about what happened, deciding she'd talk it over with Jack before she went into details with a man she just met. "Don't mention it," he smiled a very fatherly smile, one she remembered her father often wore around her, and she found herself contagiously, though halfheartedly, smiling back.

Ted looked down at his feet, having nothing further to say except, "Goodnight, Rose." "Goodnight, Ted. And thank you, once again." He waved his hand dismissively before walking off to his bedroom and leaving the door open a crack. Rose suddenly found it hard to swallow and her breathing became heavy. She hadn't fallen asleep without Jack at least in the same room since she spent her first day on the Carpathia alone.

It was terrifying, she silently admitted to herself, to not have someone you trusted to stop the nightmares. She hardly knew Ted. She would not allow herself to stop his peaceful slumber for her own personal problems.

Again, she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, suddenly aware of the uncomfortable cold. If Jack were here, he'd notice the instant she felt the cold and he'd find one way or another to warm her up. She smiled at the memories of his corny attempts to seduce her. They always made her laugh, and in the end she always gave in.

Hearing a small noise, she was slightly alarmed until she realized it came from her own throat. She whimpered again, burying her face in the couch pillow. Where are you, Jack? her mind wailed. Are you okay?

J&R

Jack sat, slumped in the corner of his overnight cell. He couldn't sleep. Not that he would want to, anyway. I hope she killed that son of a bitch… his mind chanted. After all that bastard's put us through, he deserves to die. He grimaced at the memory of having to leave Rose all alone on the cold tile floor in the kitchen next to him. He hadn't wanted to, but restraining against the police would only get him in more trouble.

If he's not already dead, Jack decided, his grimace turning into a sour frown, I'll kill him. He had begged to let the officers let him go back home, but they insisted on keeping him the night, even though his story was deemed "believable."

"If Mr. Hockley makes it, he may want to sue you, and let me be the first to tell you, he has the right to," Jack's arresting officer explained, only hours before. "And if he doesn't live?" Jack spat, his words laced with poison. "If he doesn't, his family may very well make the same decision. They could take everything you own and then some. Mr. Dawson, you do realize what you were getting yourself into when you shot Mr. Hockley?" Jack's fist tightened and his teeth were clenched so hard he was sure they'd all shatter. "He was assaulting my wife!" Jack said slowly, trying not to scream. "He was threatening her at gunpoint! Can't I sue him for that?"

The officer nodded, but sighed. "I do understand where you're going with this, Mr. Dawson, but from what I understand, Mr. Hockley is a man of a very high social status and…" "Fuck his status. Fuck it all to Hell. This isn't the first time he's used injustice against me because of his fucking damned social status and unless he's dead, it won't be the last."

Jack slammed his fist down on the table and the officer sighed heavily again. "Look, I can let you go first thing in the morning, since your story's believable enough—" "Are you accusing me of lying?" Jack wailed, and the officer continued as though he hadn't heard Jack at all. "—and you can get back to your lovely wife. Does that sound fair enough? We'll deal with the lawsuit if and when he files it." Jack let his head fall to the table.

"Why can't I just go tonight? You said my story was believable. Is it not good enough? Want me to lie to make it better in my favor, like I'm sure he'll do if he gets out alive?" The officer stood, obviously done speaking with Jack. "We've got to check your background. Your name's Jack Dawson and you were born…?" "In Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin. My parents were William John and Edith June Dawson and they died in a house fire when I was fifteen. Is that enough background for you?" The officer nodded. "We've just got to check the authenticity of your statements and you can leave in the morning. Goodnight, Mr. Dawson."

That had been several hours ago and now it was close to three in the morning. Jack hadn't yet made an attempt to sleep. He was sure that even if he did, he wouldn't be very successful. He brought his hands to his face and his knees up to his chest. "Where are you, Rosie?" he moaned into his hands, praying that she hadn't been too hysterical to listen to him when he left her in the kitchen. "Are you okay?"