Author's Note: SoTitanic is my favorite film, and I've always dreamed of writing a Jack and Rose AU for an OTP of mine, but I could never find the right one. I am so excited to release this fic onto the world, because I feel like I've been studying this movie for so long trying to think of how to write this. This is dedicated to my dear friend Rachel (danielosbourne on tumblr) and I hope that she and all of you enjoy it.I tried to do some research on terms of the time and the way the ship was built in order to give proper description into things, but if some of it is false, I apologize.(IMPORTANT): Also before reading this, I advise you that because this is a Titanic fic there will be a few major character deaths. I hope that this doesn't stop you from reading, but you've been warned. Also one last thing, because of the nature of this fic, this is very anti Dawson and very anti DJo. Dawson is obviously the Cal in this scenario.
New beginnings were what Joey Potter had hoped for when Mr. Leery had announced that he had purchased tickets aboard the maiden voyage of the Titanic. She'd be going back to America, where she'd spent her childhood, the happiest years of her life – where her mother had been alive and her family had been happy.
It wasn't as if life in England wasn't happy. She'd travelled here with the Leerys, her wealthy neighbors who had taken her in when she was fifteen due to her engagement to their son Dawson. She found Mrs. Leery herself to be a bit full of herself to say the least, however Joey did get along well with Mr. Leery to an extent, enjoying the jokes he often cracked and how he tried to make her feel more comfortable. The Leerys had been friends of her mother's, their relationship going back to far before Joey had even been a thought in her parents' heads. They'd lived next door to each other back home in Massachusetts, back before Joey's father had left the family for a waitress that he'd met at a restaurant that the Potters often frequented. (The separation itself had taken quite the toll on Joey's mother, which led to her already declining health worsening, which of course resulted in her death). Following Lilian Potter's passing, Joey was put under the care of her elder sister Bessie and while the arrangement had been rather fine with Joey, she was engaged to Dawson Leery before her sister had even finished University. And when the Leerys had decided to make the move across the sea to England, they'd subsequently lost all contact with Bessie, much to Joey's disappointment.
But the Titanic offered great opportunity for Joey. It offered her the chance to go back to the place that she held so dear to her heart, to the place that she had truly felt at home. Of course, the Leerys were the only home she'd known for the past two years and although the way they flaunted their wealth at every single party and dinner and only spoke of themselves instead of things that Joey enjoyed like literature and history, they were still her family. Or at least, they were going to be.
Joey's relationship with Dawson Leery was a bit complicated to say the least. She'd known Dawson all of her life and had begun having feelings for him around the age of ten. They'd died down a bit because of the heartbreak of her mother's passing but they'd come back rather quickly once they'd entered the puberty age. Dawson had been the first boy she'd held hands with, the first boy she felt affection for, the first boy that she'd kissed. He held a close place in her heart and always would, but following his asking for her hand in her marriage, things had changed more than a little. She began to realize that Dawson's charm came from his constant chatter about theater and his own life, which at one point, Joey had found fascinating. But now, she found it dull if anything. And while her fourteen year old self would be thrilled at the prospect of getting to spend her life married to Dawson Leery, a seventeen year old Joey found herself in somewhat of a chaotic situation.
She was completely alone in the world now and the Leerys were all that she had. She couldn't afford to speak out loud of her doubts about a marriage to Dawson, about a boring life filled with patterns and the gossip of their peers that she couldn't bring herself to care about. And Joey didn't think that Dawson cared too much for her either. He loved her, she was sure of that, but he had an odd way of showing it. He was usually wrapped up in his own life, about how he was planning on directing a stage version of one of his newly written scripts and about the cast and the crew and how busy his schedule was. He never cared much to ask about Joey's day or about what she was planning to do back in America, and if Joey was being honest, she really didn't have any plans. Her only plan was to get married to Dawson, fit into the high societies that New York women frequented and never ask for anything. It was the opposite of a life that she wanted to live, but Joey had no way of leaving it.
But when Joey first laid eyes on the grand ship that was the Titanic, she couldn't help but feel herself fill with hope and a sense of excitement. She was helped out of the towncar that she'd been sharing with Mrs. Leery by Mr. Leery and her entire face lit up at the sight of the ship.
"Excited, are you?" said Dawson's voice and Joey turned to see him beside her, as he always seemed to be. Breathing down her neck . . .
She nodded. "Yes. And yourself?"
Dawson tiled his head to the side and gave her a look that she couldn't read, "It's all I've spoken of for months. Honestly, Joey, do you ever even listen to me?"She stopped herself from sighing, knowing that it would just upset Dawson even further and instead just shrugged. "I do. I was just making conversation,"
"Oh, I do hope that the food is good here," exclaimed Mrs. Leery, fussing with her coat. "The last ship had just awful caviar. I swear, you wouldn't even have been able to tell that it was fish for goodness sake!"
"I thought it was alright," Mr. Leery expressed, handing a few rolled up dollar bills to a man collecting their bags. "What would you say, Dawson? Josephine?"
"I think any ship that's taking me to America is a good ship and I'd say that Joey agrees with me on this, don't you, Joey?" Dawson pats her on the arm and Joey does nothing except nod. This is the exact kind of thing that Dawson does that she detests, the speaking for her, the always being right next to her making her feel like she's being choked.
Joey stays silent for the walk up to the ship. She admires it's beauty and it's size, wondering about how long it must have taken to build and if it's just as beautiful on the inside as it is the out. The Leerys are chattering away about something, probably about the friends that Mrs. Leery is supposed to meet at their stop in Cherbourg (the McPhees, Joey thinks that they're called) all while Dawson keeps his tight hold on her. She always takes note to where the third class passengers are boarding, and while they're being checked for disease, they all look mostly happy. She envies them, and thinks for a moment, that they might be better off than she.
Mr. Leery speaks to a uniformed man when they approach the doorway leading inside the grand vessel. He gives their names, and they are immediately welcomed with smiles that Joey has come to recognize. The Leery name opens up many doors, it seems to be most common knowledge that Mr. Leery's large train of restaurants can lead to great riches for those who make the right investments. "Welcome aboard theTitanic," the officer tips his hat to them. "Someone will be arriving shortly to lead you to your rooms and we do hope that you have a pleasant stay,"
Mrs. Leery almost straight away begins moaning about having to wait to be shown to their rooms, but practically the second after she spoke, a steward bowed to them and a smallish group of porters took their bags. Joey gave them a gentle smile and reminded herself to remind Dawson to give them each a tip once they arrived at their rooms.
The interior of the ship is just as beautiful as the outside, and it truly amazes Joey how much detail is put into everything. Even the carvings on the wooden walls are marvelous. They're lead through rooms that Joey wants to explore desperately, but finds that she's probably not going to have a chance to considering that she's going to spend most of the voyage by either Dawson or Mrs. Leery's side and neither of them are the exploring type. Their guide leads them one floor higher, to C Deck. They're lead through a white paneled hallway where Mr. Leery hands over his money and valuables – all locked in a velvet box – to the purser. Once everything is deposited, a different steward continues taking them down a hallway. The first door that the steward opens, is Mr. and Mrs. Leery's suite. The second, a little farther down, is Dawson and Joey's. It's rather lavish, a four poster bed in one corner and a mahogany table in the center. The walls are somewhat shiny looking, made of red and gold fabric and while Joey is not usually fond of the colors, she finds that she likes them here. There's a mantle just beneath the mantle and Joey runs her fingers over the small clock resting on top of it. The stewards rush about to help Dawson unpack his things, Joey's stewardesses doing the same.
She can't help but notice that is being watched carefully by Dawson's personal valet that he acquired about six months before, Clarence Hitchcock. He was a man in his mid forties, who spoke very little and always had a stern look on his face. Hitchcock gave Joey an uncomfortable feeling, the way he was always watching over he when Dawson was preoccupied and she couldn't help but feel like this was specific orders from Dawson. He himself was always looking after Joey like she was a child who couldn't care for herself, and if he was busy, he probably figured that Hitchcock needed to take over for him.
Once everything had been put away – Joey's many expensive dresses hung up in the wardrobe, Dawson's jackets pressed, and the suitcases hidden in the back room – the stewards and stewardesses exited the suite and Dawson sent Hitchcock out as well. He motioned for Joey to sit next to him on the flower-patterned couch and as usual, she did as told. He slipped an arm around her. "I'm honored to be taking this journey with you," he professed.
Joey nodded. "I am as well,"
"I'm even more honored to be sharing this bed with you this evening," Dawson got this look on his face that he often got when speaking of matters of the bedroom. The look was presumptuous, especially considering that he and Joey hadn't done anything other than some kissing and the occasional fellatio, which Joey did not enjoy. She found that Dawson didn't really want to do anything for her own personal pleasure, and the act of making love was something that he'd been trying to convince her to do for months now.
Joey once more simply nodded, without saying anything. It was the easiest way to avoid an argument.
Pacey Witter was also originally from America. He'd ended up in England about a year earlier after being kicked out of his home by his father when he was fifteen. Pacey had come from a large family, three siblings – only one of which, has actually left their small home town – and two parents who were very unlike himself. His father worked as a bodyguard to the town's mayor, his mother a seamstress and they'd been expecting Pacey to work to earn food. But Pacey had never really been the working type – he'd only gone to school for a few years of his life, before dropping out to find work in a factory. He'd also never been into obeying authority which led to him being let go from two jobs working into two different factories. When he was a bit older, he'd begun taking odd jobs around the town as it was the only thing that he could do at that point. But before long, this also ended badly as Pacey was caught in bed with the wife of a very successful businessman. This had been the final straw for his father, who then took the liberty of throwing Pacey out of the house and leaving him to his own accord.
He'd traveled around the states for a bit, before he'd ended up on a ship that was setting course to England. Pacey'd always been an opporunist and the thought of going to a completely different country, start a new life for himself was the most beautiful thing he could imagine. And so he'd left, began the new life he wanted, sleeping in a different place every week until he'd found somewhat of a steady career when he was staying in France. Pacey had spent most of his life feeling as if he'd never be good at anything until one day by happenstance, he came across a blank sheet of paper and a pencil and had just begun sketching the family eating supper in front of him. After a few months of doing this, a lovely older woman had come across him drawing two children playing underneath a lamp post and offered him one pound to draw a portrait of her.
It had become somewhat of a lifestyle for him. It didn't always pay too well, but he was able to pay for food and if occasionally a night or two at an inn. But the thing that Pacey found most enjoyable about artwork was meeting new people. If it weren't for his drawings, he never would've met Jennifer Lindley, who he referred to as Jen. About nine months ago, Pacey had met Jen in a bar and she'd seen his sketchbook and asked if she could look at it. Ever since then, she'd been somewhat of a business partner for him, scoping out prospective clients and quite a few times, even posing for his popular nude drawings – Jen's were his most popular by a mile, and many a man had offered somewhat large sums of money.
Jen was his partner in crime, they began always traveling together. Jen herself didn't have much of a family, her parents as well had thrown her out of her home when they'd caught her in bed with an older man – she and Pacey bonded over their similarities. And it was because of Jen that Pacey got himself a ticket aboard the Titanic. The two of them had spent the morning in a bar in Southampton, after a night of throwing meaningless comments to a couple of German folk and the men that they'd come across had asked them to a game of Poker the next day. Pacey and Jen had woken at the crack of dawn, crawled out from under the bridge they'd been sleeping under and met the men in the closest pub. The game had been going on for what felt like hours, Pacey betting all of their belongs against Jen's advisings, and it was looking like they were going to lose the game. But Pacey's luck always seemed to have a way of turning, and within seconds, his luck changed for the better and he presented Jen and the two men with a full house. A full house meaning that they now owned everything on the table, including two tickets aboard the Titanic.
Jen stood up and cheered, clapping her hands together and pulling Pacey's forehead to her lips to kiss him, thanking him over and over. She'd always dreamed of going to America, having been born there and coming over seas with her parents when she was ten and Pacey felt a bit pleased with himself that it was because of him that she was going to get to see the land of the free once more.
"I can't believe it! I get to go to America! I'm going home! This is the biggest fuck you to mom and dad imaginable!"
"No, love," interrupted the bartender who pointed to the clock. "Titanic's going to America in five minutes,"
And then the reality of the situation hit Pacey and Jen and they turned to each other for a meer moment before tossing the few coins that they owned into Pacey's rucksack – Jen being sure that she got hold of their tickets – and ran out of the bar.
"Can you run any faster?" Jen called, only a few feet in front of him.
Pacey was running fast, it was just that there were loads of people around and he didn't want to trip over a child or push anyone over. He rolled his eyes at Jen silently, but the adrenaline that was currently running through him kept him in a cheery mood and unable to do anything but smile. "I'm gonna be a god damn millionaire in America, Jen! I can smell it from here!" he yells out towards her.
Jen turns her head and laughs, "Well then, I'm gonna be a god damn billionaire!"
They both knew that neither of these situations were plausible, but the hope that came with being passengers on the grandest ship in the world and going to America was elating both of them far past their usual realistic dreams.
The two of them reach the bridge leading to the third class gate just as it begins to pull away. Jen waits steadily for Pacey for a few seconds, knowing that the stewards are more likely to listen to him then they are to her. He hurries past her, grabs her by the hand and yells at the stewards to wait. Pacey practically tosses the tickets at the man and spouts what would probably sound like bullshit if it weren't true about both of them being Americans before he's let onto the ship. He throws his rucksack inside of the ship, jumps in and then grabs Jen by the waist to help her through.
"Can you believe this? Can you believe our fucking luck, Jennifer? Two of us on the ship of dreams?" Pacey doesn't think he's ever smiled so big in his life and Jen laughs like she'd spent the past five minutes doing.
"Perhaps our dreams will go past making a few pence in America!"
Pacey throws his arm around her shoulder and they both fall into another fit of giggles, probably looking strange to the people surrounding them, but neither of them caring. Jen takes the tickets from him and reads their room number aloud so that they can both search for it down the seemingly endless white corridors. They're surrounded by many non English speaking folk, which isn't too uncommon for them given their lack of wealth, but Jen does find it difficult to hear what Pacey's saying over the loud noise that everyone seems to be making.
But they do find their room somewhat quickly. It's small, not as small as Pacey had expected it to be, which he considers to be a luxury. It contains two berths and a small sink with only one small window. To a first class passenger, it would probably look like a hell hole, but to Pacey, it looks like a dream. There are two other men already in their room and Pacey puts his rucksack onto his bottom bunk, without a second thought. He figures that it'll be much safer for Jen to share the room with two strange men on the top bunk than anything. He introduces himself, and then introduces her, but the men appear to be speaking German which isn't a shock since they'd won the tickets off of two German speaking men in the first place. He climbs up to Jen's bunk once she's up there and they smile at each other once more.
She pulls an apple out of her rucksack that they'd been saving and slices it in half with Pacey's pocketknife. "I can't believe I'm this excited to go back home," he says to her after taking a bite. "I mean, when I left, I wanted to be gone for good but going back just feels like . . . a new beginning, you know?"
Jen nods. "Yes. I mean, let's not act like we're not still going to be doing the same thing we're doing here,"
He shrugs, agreeing with her. "Okay, you've got me there. But in America, we'll get to be working for some pretty clasy folk. And by that I mean –"
"You'll paint me nude and some old rich gentleman will buy them from you?"
"Ah, one can only hope, Jennifer," Jen pokes him in his side when he says that and Pacey feels that for a moment, things are just wonderful. He feels that things cannot get any better than this.
Author's Note: Please review!