Oh boy here we go! This is where - to put it bluntly - shit hits the fan!
For anyone who missed the last chapter (aka the chapter where Newtina make love in a car and the last chapter where things aren't terribly angst-ridden), we ended it on a bit of a cliffhanger so I'm excited to get into it now!
Chapters have been slow because six weeks on from me going to work at camp and thinking "ugh my throat and chest feel scratchy", I'm STILL ill. Today has literally been me going to the doctor first thing, going to the pharmacy to get antibiotics, going to a health clinic for a chest x-ray, and then going home to nap before watching television. I am, in short, VERY sick, which is why I had to take a break writing this chapter because all of last week was me battling sinusitis and a chest infection. I'm still not well at all but I wanted to get this down because, hey ho, I love writing it!
As of the end of this chapter, there's about an hour left of the film to cover - plus deleted scenes and my own additions. I'm hoping this fic will be about ten chapters, but we'll have to see how it goes.
A lot of the first two sections of this chapter are lifted heavily from Jonathan Mayo's book "Titanic: Minute by Minute" - it feels very jumpy and chaotic, and it's for a reason. In the film, the time between Fleet calling out the iceberg warning and the actual impact is something like two minutes - in real life, it was barely forty seconds. The Titanic really did not stand a chance sadly. As I saw it once so adequately described online (on Quora I think - I still have the screenshot of it saved to my phone), "the sinking was a 'perfect storm' (in calm seas) of COCK-UPS" - the crew not being trained on evacuation procedures, the missing binoculars for the look-outs, the lack of lifeboats, the fact the iceberg warnings from other ships were ignored etc.
Potential warnings for this chapter include a man hitting a woman, same man also slut-shaming her, swearing (let Newt/Tina/Theseus/Lally swear, goddammit!), people being idiots, passengers panicking because they've been locked on the lower decks, a very sad Thomas Andrews, and my un-beta'd writing.
The soundtrack that corresponds with the scene(s) at the beginning of this chapter (and the last bit of the one before it) is called "Hard to Starboard" and I highly recommend listening to it (or watching the scene if you haven't already seen the film) to get into the mood!
Anyway, without further ado, on with the chapter!
Sunday 14th April 1912 - 11.39pm Titanic Bridge Time
"Iceberg! Right ahead!"
"Thank you."
Moody hung up the phone and immediately called out the warning to William Murdoch on the bridge; Murdoch looked forward into the night, saw the menacing object drawing ever nearer, and rushed to the engine room telegraph. "Hard to starboard!" He called to Quartermaster Hichens at the wheel as he swung the twin handles of the telegraph, signalling to the engine room to stop. In the wheelhouse, Hichens rapidly turned the ship's wheel four revolutions anti-clockwise, stopping only when it would turn no further.
"Hard over!" He called to the other officers.
"Helm's hard over, sir!" Moody shouted in confirmation to Murdoch as the other man ran back onto the bridge to stare at the approaching berg.
Down in the engine room, Chief Engineer Bell was just checking the soup he'd had warming on a steam manifold when the engine telegraph clanged; he and the other engineers stared for a moment in disbelief at the lit up stop signal - and then Bell lurched forwards, knocking his soup flying. "FULL ASTERN!" The engineers and greasers moved like madmen to quickly close the steam valves and start the process of breaking the mighty propeller shafts, each of which were as big as Sequias, to a stop.
In Boiler Room Six, leading stoker Frederick Barrett was standing with second engineer James Hesketh when the red warning light and "STOP" indicator came on; he immediately stepped forwards, calling out orders to the other men. "Shut all the dampers! Shut them!" Immediately the other stokers did as commanded, closing the furnaces as quickly as they could.
In the crow's nest, Fleet squinted ahead anxiously. "Why aren't they turning?!" Next to him, Reginald Lee could see that the bow was slowly - too slowly - turning to port but said nothing, too busy holding his own breath.
On the bridge, Murdoch clenched his jaw at the sight of the iceberg growing closer. "Is it hard over?" He asked over his shoulder urgently.
Moody was watching from the doorway of the wheelhouse as he gave a nod. "It is, sir, yes! Hard over!"
With agonising slowness, the bow finally started to turn to the left of the berg; Murdoch held his breath as he waited, praying to the Almighty that they had turned the ship in time. "Come on, come on, come on… turn…Yes…"
For a moment, it seemed as though the ship was going to miss it - that the Titanic would turn in time, and he exhaled in relief.
And then a panicked voice called out, making his stomach drop. "IT'S GONNA HIT!"
At 11.40pm, Titanic Bridge Time, forty-six thousand tons of metal and wood collided with five-hundred thousand tons of ice; it bumped and scraped along the starboard side of the ship, rivets popping as the steel plate of the hull flexed under the load. An underwater spur from the iceberg dented and punctured the Titanic, making a series of gashes no more than an inch high along two hundred and fifty feet of her starboard hull.
In the crow's nest, Fleet and Lee gripped onto the edge of the perch so that they wouldn't fall, muttering expletives as they were jerked; on the bridge nearby, Murdoch felt the jolt and shudder of the impact, his heart dropping to his stomach with dread - everyone on the bridge could hear the horrific sound of ice grinding on metal, a noise that would haunt many a nightmare in years to come.
In the hold of the ship, the two stewards who had been searching for a first-class girl and a third-class boy staggered at the impact; moments later, the hull buckled with a sound like thunder, and like a sledgehammer beating along outside the ship, the hull plates split open. Sea water poured in, sweeping the stewards off of their feet; they screamed as they were washed away by the icy water, desperately trying to reach the stairs but to no avail.
On G-deck, Theseus found himself tossed awake in his bunk; as he shot up, looking around the dark room blearily, he heard a sound like the squeal of a skate on ice. In the bunk below him, Lally woke up and rubbed her eyes, confused by the unwelcomed wake up as she called out to him.
Down in Boiler Room Six, Barrett and Hesketh staggered as they heard the rolling thunder of the collision; they saw the starboard side of the ship buckle in towards them, and moments later, they saw seawater explode through a split that had opened up two feet above the floor.
On the forward well deck, Newt and Tina were jolted apart from their kiss by the force of the ice scraping against the ship; they both looked up in astonishment as they sailed past the berg, which was now blocking out the night sky like a huge and hideous mountain. Suddenly fragments of ice were crashing down onto the deck, and he hurriedly took her hand in order to pull her away from the flying chunks that rained down on them.
On the bridge, Murdoch quickly rushed to ring the watertight door alarm, throwing the switch that closed them; in Boiler Room Six, the firemen and stokers heard the alarm and immediately scrambled through the swirling water towards the watertight door between boiler rooms five and six. The room was filled with water vapour as the cold sea struck the red hot furnaces, making it difficult to see and navigate; Barrett quickly hurried the other men through the doors as they lowered like slow guillotines.
"Come on, let's go!" He yelled to them, pushing them through the doorway one by one. "Get out the door! They're closing the doors!" He waited until the door reached the water level, getting as many of his men out as possible, before diving through into Boiler Room Five; it rumbled down behind him with a loud clang, trapping those who were still inside the flooding room.
Meanwhile, in his stateroom on A-deck, Thomas Andrews was making notes in his book, surrounded by piles of plans for his ship, when he noticed a strange noise; looking up, he saw the cut-crystal light fixture above shaking somewhat, tinkling like a windchime. As the ship - his ship - shuddered, he felt it in his very soul as if it were his own mortal wound; too much of himself was in this ship for him to have not felt it.
Passengers who were strolling on the starboard side watched as they sailed past the huge wall of ice; in a matter of a few moments, it was gone and the ship was continuing to sail onwards into the night. Those who were drinking and relaxing in the ship's many saloons and dining rooms barely noticed a thing. On the well deck, Newt and Tina both rushed forwards to the starboard rail just in time to see the berg moving aft down the side of the ship before it disappeared.
In the crow's nest, Fleet let out a relieved exhale and turned to Lee. "Oh my God… That was a close shave, wasn't it?"
Lee suddenly grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, giving him a hard push. "Smell ice, can you? Bleeding Christ!"
In the wheelhouse, Murdoch watched as the alarm bells clattered mindlessly, feeling as though they were reflecting how he felt in that very moment; he was in shock, unable to get a grip on what had just happened.
I've just run the biggest ship in history into an iceberg on its maiden voyage, he thought with some horror, feeling incredibly sick. He was careful not to let it show on his face as he turned to Moody stiffly. "Note the time and enter it in the log."
As his fellow officer went to do so, the door of the captain's quarters opened and Captain Smith came rushing out, tucking in his shirt; he looked around at his crew, all of whom were frozen in place, and frowned. "What was that, Mister Murdoch?"
Murdoch's face was glistening with terror. "An iceberg, sir." He watched the captain look around in surprise and began to speak even faster. "I put her hard to starboard and ran the engines full astern, but it was too close. I tried to port around it, but she hit, and I-..."
"Close the watertight doors," Smith ordered, striding out of the wheelhouse and onto the bridge.
"The doors are closed, sir," He informed the older man, quickly following after him onto the starboard wing.
"All stop!" As one of the other officers hurried to follow this order, Captain Smith watched as Murdoch pointed in the direction of the damage before squinting into the darkness; it was impossible to see anything this late at night. He moved to look at the well deck next, his unease only growing at the sight of the ice on the deck; below, several of the passengers were looking over the railings of the ship to see what the commotion was. "Find the carpenter," He told Murdoch uneasily. "Get him to sound the ship."
"Theseus? What's going on?"
"I don't know. Hold on, let me get the light - stay in bed."
Theseus hopped down from the top bunk of the bed, only to immediately start cursing at the feeling of something cold and wet; quickly snapping on the light, he realised that the floor was covered in about three inches of freezing water - and there was more coming in.
"What the fuck?!"
Lally sat up in her bed, eyes wide as she took in the sight. "We need to leave right now - pass me my boots, quickly."
Theseus did so before reaching for his shirt from the bedpost and throwing it over his head; he was just pulling on his coat when he looked over at the other bunk. The Swedish man who occupied the top bed was now waking up, muttering words that no one else understood - the bottom one was empty.
Lally stood up from her bed, water sloshing over her shoes and nearing her skirt as she followed his gaze. "He's probably fine," She assured him while he laced his shoes hurriedly, picking up her own coat as she made her way over to the door. "I bet he's up on deck - you know how he likes to watch the stars."
He wasn't completely convinced but followed her out of the room anyway; the corridor was also flooded, and many other steerage passengers were poking their heads out of their cabins to see what the fuss was. A moment later, Tommy came running towards them, half-dressed but otherwise no worse for wear. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here!"
"Don't need to tell us twice," Theseus muttered; as they followed the Irishman down the hallway to try to escape the water, however, he couldn't help but wonder where on Earth his brother had gotten to.
If he's been arrested again, I'll kill him, he thought dryly.
On A-deck, a couple of the passengers had come out into the corridor in their robes and slippers; one such person was the Countess of Rothes. As she looked around, she noticed a steward coming her way and frowned.
"Excuse me," She said politely. "Why have the engines stopped? I felt a shudder."
He merely smiled reassuringly at her. "I shouldn't worry, ma'am. We've likely thrown a propeller blade - that's the shudder you felt. May I bring you anything?"
As she considered this, Thomas Andrews suddenly brushed past them; he was walking rather fast, a number of rolled up ship's plans under his arm - but it was the harried look on his face that made her stop, a sudden chill running through her. "No… No, thank you."
A number of people were now gathering on the forward well deck, muttering as they tried to figure out what was going on; Newt and Tina were both still leaning over the starboard rail, trying to see the hull of the ship below.
"I think it looks okay," Newt informed her, though it was with a great deal of uncertainty. "I don't see anything."
Tina frowned somewhat as she looked at him. "Could it have damaged the ship?"
He hesitated, considering her question. "Well… it didn't seem like much of a bump to be honest, and the ship is so big… I think we're alright."
As he turned away, casting his eyes back over the railing and further down the ship, Tina noticed that a few of the steerage passengers behind them were kicking the ice around the deck, laughing as they had fun - and an idea struck her. Slowly, so as to not arouse suspicion, she reached for a small handful of ice that had landed on the railing, trying not to shiver at the feeling of it in her hand; before he could turn to her once more, she had reached for the neck of his shirt and dropped the ice down his back.
Newt let out a hiss at the icy sensation, quickly reaching to try and get it out of his shirt; when she giggled at his reaction, the sound like music to his ears, he grinned and quickly grabbed her by the waist. "You know, if I did that to my brother, he'd throw me overboard… I suppose it's only fair…"
Despite knowing he wasn't serious, she let out a small shriek and tried to move away from him. "Oh no, no, don't you dare-!"
"Overboard we go, Miss Goldstein!"
As they continued to laugh playfully, never letting go of each other, they were blissfully unaware of what was to come.
The steerage corridors were practically clogged by passengers as they headed aft in an attempt to get away from the flooding. Many had grabbed suitcases and duffel bags, some of which were already soaked, and several people were even dressing as they walked. In front of them, a number of rats were also racing away from the water, squeaking in terror.
"If this is the direction the rats are going, that's good enough for me," Tommy declared, leading the way.
As they followed, Lally noticed her lover looking troubled and reached out for his hand - she knew even without it being spoken that he was thinking of Newt. "Hey, it's okay," She tried to reassure him. "Remember? He'll be fine."
"I know. I just…" Theseus gestured to the squealing rodents ahead. "I just thought that if Newt were here, he'd probably be giving some kind of speech about how rats will know where to go to survive or something - or he'd try to put one in his pocket."
"He'd definitely put one in his pocket," She agreed good-naturedly, giving his fingers a squeeze. "I'm sure once this is all sorted, he'll have a field day trying to convince us to let him keep one as a pet."
He huffed in a rather affectionate way. "If Newt thinks we're bringing a rat off of this boat when we dock, he can do us a favour and jump overboard right now."
Bruce Ismay had not wasted time; he was still dressed in his pyjamas underneath his topcoat as he hurried down the corridor and towards the bridge. As he made his way there, he passed a member of the crew by the name of Barnes who was coming along in the other direction, attempting to get the few concerned passengers back into their rooms.
"There's no cause for alarm," The steward tried to reassure them all. "Please, go back to your rooms."
Before he could go much further, however, he was stopped in his tracks by a rather flustered looking Achilles exiting his suite; he immediately made a beeline for the steward, Abernathy close behind. "You there!"
"Sir," Barnes began, not without some irritation. "There is no emergency-"
"Yes there is!" Achilles interrupted. "I have been robbed!"
Abernathy gave him a hard and expectant stare. "Get the master-at-arms."
Barnes hesitated, looking between the two men; frustrated, Achilles glared at him. "Now, you moron! Do it!"
"Yes, sir," The steward agreed quietly, clearly taken aback by this even as he went to do as asked.
The atmosphere in the chart-room on the bridge was tense as Captain Smith studied the commutator, a vertical compass that measured the angle of inclination and dip of the magnetic needle; after a moment, he turned to Thomas Andrews, who was standing behind him. "A five degree list in less than ten minutes…"
As Andrews looked concerned, John Hutchinson, the ship's carpenter, appeared; he was out of breath and clearly unnerved as he spoke. "She's making water fast… in the forepeak tank and the forward holds, in Boiler Room Six."
Moments later, Ismay entered the chart-room now, looking angry and frustrated. "Why have we stopped?"
"We've struck ice," Captain Smith informed him, glancing at him with annoyance.
"Well, do you think the ship is seriously damaged?" Ismay questioned impatiently.
The captain didn't answer, all but rolling his eyes. "Excuse me."
Without further ado, he pushed past the man with Andrews and Hutchinson in tow; Ismay huffed before following after them, not pleased in the slightest that his good night's sleep had been ruined by what was likely a trivial matter.
There were still a number of steerage passengers on the well deck, playing a cheerful game of soccer with one of the chunks of ice; some other men were leaning on the forward rail, watching in interest as another gentleman came outside to join them, wearing a topcoat over his pyjamas.
"Aww, did I miss the fun?" He asked good-naturedly, and his friends smirked in amusement. "Say, did any of you see what happened?"
"No, I missed it," One of his friends muttered, shaking his head to himself. "Apparently we hit over there somewhere."
Another of his friends gave a snort of laughter before straightening up. "Nothing too serious then - I'm going back to my cabin to read."
As the man went back inside to read and his friends watched the steerage game of soccer on the deck below, Newt and Tina came up the steps from the well deck; he held the gate open for her, letting her through first before following after her. Seconds later, Captain Smith rounded the corner, followed closely by Thomas Andrews and Carpenter Hutchinson; the three men didn't seem to notice them at all, cruising right past them without so much as a glance.
"Boiler Room Six is flooded eight feet above the plate, and the mail hold is worse," Hutchinson was relaying to the captain rather anxiously. "She's all buckled in in the forward hull."
"Can you shore up?" Smith asked as they started to go down the steps.
"Not unless the pumps get ahead."
Andrews frowned. "Have you seen the damage in the mail hold?"
"No, she's already underwater…"
The three men continued on, moving out of earshot of the couple who had been listening; Newt was staring at the back of their heads as he reached for her hand, clearly concerned. "This… This is bad," He muttered in a low voice to her, so that only she could hear.
Tina looked between him and the inspection party that had just disappeared, alarmed by all of this; if it was truly as bad as it seemed, if their worry was anything to go off of, then she knew they had to act quickly. For a moment she debated telling him that they should set off in search of the lifeboats, to be prepared just in case, but then she remembered that she had not come onto his ship alone - her guardians and fiancé would have no idea what was going on, and while she had no plans to get off of this boat with them any longer (or, at least, not with the man who she was supposed to be engaged to), that didn't mean that they deserved to come to any kind of harm.
"We should tell Percival and Seraphina," She decided, hesitating before adding on, "And Achilles too."
Newt considered this before merely nodding. "Yes, I suppose that's probably for the best."
She gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand in her own. "You're coming with me - I jump, you jump… right?"
"Right." He smiled back at her, albeit somewhat forced, and allowed her to pull him through a nearby door and into the ship.
In the suite rooms occupied by Tolliver and his party, two stewards and the Master at Arms had arrived to investigate the problem; as Achilles casually lounged on the couch, cigarette in hand, Seraphina was pacing the room agitatedly in a silk robe that matched her turban, worrying over where her ward had gotten to. It both surprised and infuriated her that Percival didn't seem nearly as concerned about the whereabouts of the missing seventeen-year-old under their care, instead leaning against the wall and watching silently.
Making sure none of the others could hear her, she stepped closer to him. "You know something, Percy, don't you?"
Her husband's steely eyes gave nothing away. "I have no idea what you're talking about, dear."
"Percival, this is not a joke-"
"I never said it was, Sera," He interrupted calmly, meeting her gaze almost imploringly. "But it's a ship - she won't have gone too far."
Nearby, the Master at Arms looked at the nude sketch of Tina and gave a shrug. "I think they're rather good, sir."
Achilles glared at him before standing up to snatch the paper from his hands, displeased that his fiancée was being ogled so shamelessly like this - he had to remind himself that there was a plan in place, and it wouldn't be long before he reaped the benefits of it. Trying to keep himself calm, he looked at the stewards with a scowl. "Don't touch anything. I want the entire room photographed."
Meanwhile, out in the corridor, Abernathy was waiting; soon enough, he spotted Newt and Tina crossing the foyer towards him, holding hands as they walked.
"Well, here we go… Just keep hold of my hand," He heard her say to her lover, her head held high. "Don't let go."
"I won't, I promise."
Abernathy plastered on a false smile as they approached where he was standing. "We've been looking for you, miss."
Tina barely spared him a glance, leading Newt straight past him and continuing on to the rooms. Abernathy followed them, moving close behind the lanky Englishman; once he was certain they weren't looking, he smoothly pulled the diamond necklace his employer had given him from his own pocket and slipped it into the younger man's instead.
Seraphina was just pouring herself a drink when she noticed people entering the suite; to her relief, one of them was Tina - and then, much to her chagrin, she realised the boy from steerage was there too and quickly closed her robe at her throat. Achilles was putting out his cigarette as he also looked up, eyes flashing briefly at the sight of them; with a discreet nod of the head, he had Abernathy close the door behind them so that this could be kept private - for now.
Tina looked around the room at them all, suddenly unnerved by the silence that had fallen; out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Percival looking at her curiously - not with disgust, not with contempt, not with exasperation but with genuine curiosity - and took a deep breath to prepare herself. "Something serious has happened."
"Yes, it has," Achilles agreed dryly, stepping forwards and narrowing his eyes at the couple; a quick glance at his valet confirmed that everything was going to plan, and he cleared his throat. "Indeed. Two things dear to me have disappeared this evening; now that one is back…" His eyes raked over his fiancée before flickering to the untidy man before him. "...I have a pretty good idea where to find the other. Search him."
The Master at Arms and stewards stepped up to Newt, pulling his hand away from Tina's so that they could pull the overcoat from his shoulders. "Take your coat off, son."
Newt shrugged out of it, shaking his head in dismay. "Now what?"
"Achilles, what are you doing?" Tina questioned in disbelief as one of the stewards began to pat her lover down and the other searched the pockets of the coat. "We're in the middle of an emergency-"
"Is this it?"
Everyone stared as the steward suddenly lifted up the Heart of the Ocean from the pocket of Newt's coat, completely stunned - though none more so than Newt. Achilles nodded seriously, careful not to let his face reveal anything as he reached for the necklace. "That's it."
"No, this is horseshit!" Newt exclaimed incredulously before he could stop himself. "I didn't… I would never…" He quickly looked at Tina, who was staring at him in absolute shock. "Please don't believe it, Tina, don't!"
"He… He couldn't have," Tina said uncertainly.
"Of course he could," Achilles stated, looking down his nose at the younger man as he was handcuffed. "It's easy enough for a professional - he memorised the combination when you opened the safe."
Tina thought back over the evening, remembering every single detail, and shook her head. "But I was with him the whole time… this is absurd…"
"Perhaps," Achilles muttered, voice low and cold - clearly he didn't want anyone else to hear these words. "He did it while you were putting your clothes back on, dear."
Tina's face burned with sudden shame; Newt, however, had heard his remark too and was staring at him furiously. "Oh, very good, Achilles, well done… Tina, they put it in my pocket-!"
"Shut up!" Achilles snapped.
Abernathy held up the coat with a smirk. "It's not even your pocket though, is it, Scamander? 'Property of A.L. Ryerson'." He showed it to his employer and then handed it to the Master at Arms, making sure the label was visible for them all to see.
"Hmm… that was reported stolen today…"
Newt bit his lower lip, looking at the girl in front of him imploringly. "I just borrowed it, I was going to return it."
"Oh, an honest thief!" Achilles snorted, looking around the room in amusement. "We have an honest thief here, do we?"
As the two stewards chuckled uneasily, Newt stepped closer to Tina desperately. "You know I didn't do this, Tina, you know it!" But she was shrinking away from him, utterly betrayed and hurt, and his heart dropped. "No, please, Tina, don't believe them! You know I wouldn't do this - that I didn't do it!"
She refused to meet his eye as the Master at Arms started to drag him out of the room and into the hall, wrapping her arms around herself. He tried to resist, but the other man was bigger and stronger, with years of experience in hauling away criminals, meaning it was a useless fight. "Come on, lad, don't make a fuss! Be a good lad!"
"You know I didn't do it, Tina!" Newt shouted to her urgently. "Tina! Tina, please! You know I didn't do it! You know me!"
But I don't, she thought miserably, I seem to barely know you at all.
As he disappeared, his voice growing further and further away, Tina felt tears well up in her eyes; Seraphina gazed at her, contemplating going over to comfort her but uncertain as to how, and the young woman suddenly felt completely alone. How foolish she had been, how stupid, how wreckless…
A hand suddenly appeared on her shoulder and she jumped, fearing it was Achilles; to her relief, it was Percival who had approached her. For a moment he merely met her gaze, and she had the funny feeling he was reading her mind somehow - and then she wrapped her arms around him, her tears finally spilling as he embraced her in return.
"Oh, kiddo," He murmured soothingly. "I'm sorry… it'll be okay, I promise."
She wanted to believe him as she always did, ever since she'd been a child… but how could she? How could she believe any man, even him, after this?
A quick inspection of the mail sorting room had found that the room was flooding fast, clerks scrambling to pull mail from the racks and haul wet sacks up from the hold below. The Renault that was being stored there was by now submerged completely by water, the brass glinting cheerfully; the lights of the hold that had been left on were casting an eerie glow from below the surface, and it was with a rush that the inspection party had hurried back to the chart-room.
Andrews was shaking as he unrolled a big drawing of a sideways elevation of the ship that showed all of the watertight bulkheads, quickly finding some paperweights on the chart-room table to keep it open with. Captain Smith came to stand with him, watching, whilst Hutchinson and Ismay hovered behind waiting. "Water, fourteen feet above the keel in ten minutes…in the forepeak…in all three holds…and in Boiler Room Six."
"That's right, sir," Hutchinson agreed.
"When can we get underway, damn it?!" Ismay questioned impatiently.
Andrews glared at him as some of the ship's officers filed inside, wanting to hear news. "That's five compartments!" When he turned his head to meet the captain's gaze, he was somewhat relieved to see that at least he understood how serious this was, judging by his wide eyes. "She can stay afloat with the first four compartments breached…but not five. Not five." He gestured to his drawing as he spoke, showing the captain exactly what he meant. "As she goes down by the head, the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads…at E-deck…from one to the next…back and back. There's no stopping it."
Captain Smith pointed to a part of the diagram. "The pumps…if we opened the doors-"
"The pumps buy you time, but minutes only," Andrews interrupted gravely before looking around at all of the men in the room. "From this moment, no matter what we do… Titanic will founder."
Ismay's irritation faded immediately as he stared at the other man with wide eyes. "But… But this ship can't sink-!"
"She's made of iron, sir," Andrews pointed out tersely. "I assure you, she can…and she will. It is a mathematical certainty."
Smith looked as if he had been punched in the stomach, face pale beneath his white beard. "How much time?"
Andrews swallowed, looking down at the drawing of his beloved ship. "An hour. Two at most."
As Ismay blinked, reeling at the news of his dream turning into his worst nightmare, Smith stared ahead in shock. "And how many aboard, Mister Murdoch?"
"Two-thousand-and-two-hundred souls aboard, sir," Murdoch informed him quietly.
For a long and terse moment, no one dared speak; all eyes were on their captain as he turned to face all of the men, his crew, his employer, with a grave expression. "Well," He said softly. "I believe you may get your headlines, Mister Ismay."
Within a few minutes, Seraphina and Percival had disappeared to their room to quickly dress after hearing the commotion from outside - this meant that Tina found herself alone with Achilles. He waited for the bedroom door to close before straightening up from where he'd been leaning against the wall and crossing the room to her; she avoided his gaze as he stopped in front of her, not wanting to see him or his judgement of her.
Achilles regarded her for a moment with his cold black eyes, as if he had never seen her before in his entire life and she were some strange animal; he opened his mouth to say something before closing it again, his lower lip giving a quiver - and then he slapped her across the face, hard enough to make her entire head turn.
Tina gasped at the sudden pain, unable to stop herself from touching her stinging cheek as tears welled up in her eyes - but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of crying, she vowed, he wasn't worth her tears. Even so, the blow he had just dealt her felt inconsequential to the blow her heart had been given just moments before - the heart that didn't even feel like her own anymore, the heart she had foolishly given away in the storage hold to a boy she barely knew.
"It is a little slut, isn't it?" He spat in contempt; when she didn't turn back to face him, he became even more enraged and grabbed her by the shoulders roughly. "Will you look at me when I'm talking to you, you little–?!"
A loud knock on the door interrupted them seconds before it opened and Steward Barnes entered. "Mister Tolliver-"
"Not now!" He snapped, still digging his fingers into his fiancée's shoulders painfully. "We're busy!"
But Barnes merely entered the room, moving over to the dresser and reaching for the top of it. "Sir, I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelts and come up to-"
"I said not now!" He huffed, though he let go of Tina.
"I'm sorry to inconvenience you, Mister Tolliver," The steward continued, clearly not sorry at all as he pulled the lifebelts down from the top of the dresser. "But it's Captain's orders. Now, please, dress warmly - it's quite cold tonight. May I suggest topcoats and hats?"
Achilles scoffed, shaking his head to himself as he moved across the room towards his own bedroom. "This is ridiculous."
As he left, the steward approached Tina and handed her one of the lifebelts; he noticed her red eyes and the way she was pressing a hand to her face, and he paused before deciding that it was most likely because she was concerned about being told to put on a lifebelt or about the ship stopping. "Not to worry, miss," He tried to assure her. "I'm sure it's just a precaution."
While the stewards in the corridors of the first-class were polite and obsequious as they woke passengers, making sure to convey no sense of danger whatsoever, the same could not be said for the ones assigned to getting the steerage passengers up.
Modesty found herself roused from a deep and sound sleep at the sound of a loud bang as the door was thrown open and the lights turned on; as she sat up, she noticed that a steward was in the doorway and pulling the lifebelts down from the top of the wardrobe so that they fell to the floor. "Everybody up!" He yelled. "Lifebelts on!" And then he was gone, moving on to the next cabin.
From the bunk below her, she heard some shifting as her brother shifted around, rubbing his eyes. "What…? What's going on?"
She looked over the railings of her bed at him, reaching for her doll. "He said we have to put lifebelts on."
Credence blinked before getting out of bed and reaching for her to help her down. "Come on, let's get you dressed. Did he say anything else?"
"No… just to get up and put our lifebelts on."
In the corridor outside, the stewards were all but screaming orders as they pounded the doors to wake passengers up; many people were coming out of their doors, perplexed by the urgency and hurry. Whenever someone tried to question them, it was the same short and unhelpful answer to just put their lifebelts on and go up to the deck. Those who didn't speak English looked at their friends and family, shrugging before deciding to head back to bed - it wasn't as if the stewards were going to make sure they were following orders, after all.
As her brother shrugged into his coat and started to help her lace her boots, Modesty looked at him with a frown. "Is something wrong with the ship?"
"Don't think so," Credence tried to assure her, though he had the sinking feeling she was right. "It's probably just a precaution, that's all. Come on, get your coat on and I'll help you with the lifebelt - it'll be cold up on deck."
She let him help her, clutching onto her doll and biting her lip; she hoped that Newt had gotten the message to wake up and go out on deck too - perhaps then he would meet her there, and she and her brother wouldn't be alone for whatever was happening. The thought provided some comfort and made her feel much better even as her brother took her hand and began to pull her through the busy corridor outside.
"C.Q.D.?" Phillips was looking at Captain Smith in puzzlement. "Sir…?"
The captain barely glanced up from the coordinates he had been scribbling on a piece of paper. "That's right, C.Q.D. The distress call." He handed the piece of paper to the younger man before taking off his hat and sighing. "That's our position. Tell whoever responds that we're going down by the head and need immediate assistance." He looked at the two shocked wireless operators briefly before putting his hat back on his head and hurrying out.
The two young men shared a look. "Blimey," Phillips muttered, quickly putting his headset on over his ears and turning to the machine, immediately starting to tap out the message.
Bride watched him for a moment, hesitating before moving closer and looking at his colleague seriously. "Maybe we should try that new distress call… S.O.S." At the other man's look, he grinned half-heartedly. "It may be our only chance to use it."
Phillips laughed in spite of himself, nodding in agreement; with that, he turned his full attention back to the machine and began to send the message out.
Dot-Dot-Dot… Dash-Dash-Dash… Dot-Dot-Dot…
The noise of the steam venting from the pipes of the funnels was - quite simply - deafening; Andrews grimaced as he strode along the boat deck, watching as seamen and officers scurried to uncover the lifeboats. The horrendous din of the funnels overhead was only making things worse, he noticed, because none of the crew could hear each other, and it was doubtful that any passengers who came out on deck would be able to hear a thing either - it all only added to the disorganisation of everything. He noticed some men nearby were fumbling with the mechanism of one of the Wellin davits, and hurriedly started forwards.
"Turn to the right!" He yelled, trying to make himself heard over the roar of the steam. "Pull the falls taut before you unchock - have you never had a boat drill?"
The seaman he had approached looked at him with a tilted head. "No, sir! Not with these new davits, sir!"
Andrews looked around, unable to help himself from feeling disgusted at the sight of the crew fumbling with the davits and ropes that would be used to lower the lifeboats. That was when he realised there were very few passengers out on deck, all hesitant and confused, and he couldn't help but feel somewhat amazed: surely the crew had started to warn the passengers by now? He spotted Chief Officer Wilde nearby and immediately made his way over to him. "Mister Wilde! Mister Wilde, where are the passengers?"
Henry Wilde gestured to one of the windows where a group of people wearing lifebelts were peering out. "They've all gone back inside. It's too damn cold and noisy for them!" He turned away, taking the whistle from around his neck and giving it a sharp blow before speaking to one of the crew on the promenade deck above. "You there! Get down here and help with these lines!"
Andrews blinked, feeling as though he were in a bad dream as he reached for his pocketwatch to check the time; what little amount of it they had was running out fast, and not a single soul had been evacuated yet. Stomach turning unpleasantly, he made his way through the foyer entrance to A-deck - he didn't know what he could do, but something surely had to be done.
Meanwhile, a large number of first-class passengers had gathered near and around the grand staircase of the foyer; most of them were getting rather indignant about all of the confusion, especially given the late hour. As the orchestra started up a cheerful rendition of Alexander's Ragtime Band, led by Wallace Hartley on captain's orders in an attempt to allay any panic, Andrews entered the lounge and looked around in despair; for a moment, he was astonished at how unbothered everyone seemed - but he also felt heartbroken too, he realised, because in just a matter of an hour or two, this magnificent room and all of the others like it would be gone.
Molly Brown, dressed in a thick heavy coat and lifebelt, grabbed a passing young steward. "Hey, sonny, what's doing?" She asked before gesturing to herself. "You've got us all trussed up here and now we're cooling our heels."
The steward backed away, stumbling as he reached the stairs. "Sorry, ma'am. Let me go and find out."
As he fled up the steps, Molly turned to some of the gentlemen nearby and shook her head. "I don't think anybody knows what the hell's going on around here…"
Nearby, Achilles was carrying the lifebelts on his arm, an afterthought more than anything else, and tutting to himself. "It's the goddamned English doing everything by the book."
Seraphina sighed, pulling on her gloves as she walked. "There's no need for language, Mister Tolliver."
Behind her, Tina was walking like a sleepwalker, barely taking notice of anything around her - if not for Percival holding her arm and guiding her, she was certain she wouldn't be moving at all. He spared her a glance, concerned that she was so quiet, before looking over his shoulder; Chastity was following them, holding coats for the ladies, and he put on a smile as he turned to her. "Chastity, could you go back and turn the heaters on in our rooms? That way it won't be too cold when we come back - and we can all have a nice cup of tea when we return. Here, I'll take the coats."
The maid dipped into a small curtsy, handing the garments to him before hurrying back the way they had come; Percival helped Tina into her coat first, a soft blue evening coat with black embroidered patterns, and gave her a small smile before turning to his wife to assist her. Just a moment later, Tina noticed Thomas Andrews walk past them - the sight of his heartbroken expression as he looked around surprised her enough to make her move forwards, not caring when Achilles noticed and went to go after her.
"Mr Andrews?" She gently reached out to touch his arms; he spun around, jolted from his own thoughts, and stared at her with wide surprised eyes. Tina hesitated before pressing onwards, deciding that if there was one person on this damned ship she could be truthful with, it was him. "I saw the iceberg, and I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth."
Andrews swallowed the lump in his throat before stepping closer to her, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "The ship will sink."
"You're certain?" Tina asked, shocked by this.
"Yes. In an hour or so…all of this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic."
Achilles, having overheard this when he'd stepped forwards to grab his fiancée, was dumbstruck. " What ?"
"Please, tell only who you must. I don't want to be responsible for a panic." Andrews' face was grave as he took Tina's hands in his, looking at her seriously. "And get to a boat quickly, don't wait… You remember what I told you about the boats?"
Forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone onboard, she remembered pointing out that very day as they toured the ship, and his reply: About half, actually.
Tina covered her mouth with her hand as the realisation struck her but still managed to nod. "Yes. Yes, I understand. Thank you."
Andrews gave her a nod before turning away, moving among the passengers so that he could urge them to put their lifebelts on and get to the boats. As Achilles glanced at her, still somewhat perplexed, Tina had to take a deep breath to calm herself - but her first thought wasn't for her own safety, nor for that of any of the people she was travelling with.
It was for the penniless artist who had broken her heart just hours after she'd given it to him.
"Over here, son."
Newt allowed the Master at Arms to pull him over towards a water pipe, not saying a word as he was handcuffed with his arms around it - there was no point, he thought, in fighting anymore, not when his heart felt so heavy in his chest and like it might break at any second.
Of course she didn't believe me… I'm just steerage rubbish, after all. Worth no more than the dirt under one of her polished shoes.
As he contemplated this, a crewman suddenly rushed in, out of breath and frantic. "Sir, they need you up in the second-class purser's office - there's a big mob up there."
"Go on."
The slimy voice from behind him made Newt want to bang his head into the nearby porthole; of course Abernathy had followed them down here, wanting to make sure the job was done properly this time - no doubt Achilles Tolliver had sent him with strict instructions so that he couldn't try anything.
As the Master at Arms and crewman looked at him, Abernathy pulled a pearl handled Colt. 45 automatic from under his coat and smiled. "I'll keep an eye on him."
The older man considered this before nodding. "Aye, right."
He finished locking the handcuff around the British man's wrist before heading for the door, handing the key to the shorter man on his way out. Newt cast an uneasy look back over his shoulder, watching as Abernathy flipped the key in the air and caught it; the valet merely smiled unpleasantly, pointing the gun at him as he took a seat nearby and made himself comfortable.
Something tells me this will be a long evening, he thought miserably.
Captain Smith was making his way back through the bridge, feeling rather disorientated by everything going on around him, when he heard someone running up behind him.
"Sir! Sir, wait!" He turned and saw that it was Harold Bride, clutching some paper in hand; he continued walking but gave a small nod to show that he was listening. " Carpathia says they're making seventeen knots - full steam for them, sir!"
He reached out for the telegram message, studying it intently when it was given to him. "She's the only one who's responding?"
"The only one close, sir," Bride informed him cautiously. "She says they can be here in four hours."
Smith's gaze snapped to him alarmingly quickly. "Four hours?!" Suddenly the enormity of it hit him like a sledgehammer blow: they didn't have four hours, not if the calculations Andrews had given were correct - and he had no reason to doubt they weren't. There was so little he could do in this situation, and the feeling of helplessness made him feel unwell; a chill ran through his entire body as he tried to compose himself before grimacing at the other man. "Thank you, Bride."
After all, it's not his fault - he and Phillips are working their hardest. All of the crew are.
As Harold Bride left, no doubt to attempt to contact any other ships nearby, Captain Smith looked out at the blackness of the night in despair. "My God…"
Gradually, a crowd of uncertain passengers started to come out onto the deck, all of whom were in various states of dress and undress; one first-class woman was barefoot, some were in their stockings, and others were still in evening dress while a few had come outside in bathrobes and kimonos, their lifebelts haphazardly thrown over their expensive clothes. Even more bizarre was that some had decided to bring jewels, books, even small dogs, with them as they waited for instructions on what to do next.
Officer Lightoller found himself amidst this group, looking around at them all; after a moment, he saw Captain Smith walking stiffly towards him and quickly made his way over to the older man. Over the roaring of the steam from the funnels, crew shouting to each other and passengers chattering, he had to cup his hands and yell to make sure he was heard. "We are swung out and ready, sir." The captain said nothing, seeming rather distracted as he glanced around. "Hadn't we better get the women and children into the boats, sir?"
Smith slowly started to nod, somewhat abstractly. "Yes, we…"
"Sir?" Lightoller gestured to his ear to show that he couldn't hear him.
Captain Smith looked at him, all of his usual fire and determination gone. "Women and children first," He decided, almost to himself. "Yes…"
"Yes, sir." The officer turned away, deciding it was now up to him to take charge; he made his way over to where the passengers were gathering and gestured for them to come closer as he shouted to them. "Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please! Step this way please! That's right, come this way, towards me! Thank you!" The appalling din of the escaping steam above abruptly cut off, and the sudden unearthly science made his voice echo in the night. "Good. For the time being, I shall require only women and children. Gentlemen, please stay where you are!"
As the officers started to bring the passengers forwards to load onto the boats, Wallace Hartley was leading a small band of musicians to the port side of the deck nearby. "All right, boys, like the captain said," He reminded his fellow bandmates as they raised their instruments to play. "Nice and cheery so there's no panic. 'Wedding Dance'."
They struck up a rather lively and elegant waltz, music wafting all over the ship; one woman was finally stepping across the gap into a lifeboat, terrified of the drop below. Another woman in the crowd pulled her shawl around herself even tighter, shaking her head to herself. "You watch," She muttered to everyone around her. "They'll put us off in these silly little boats to freeze, and we'll all be back on board by breakfast."
In the steerage berthing, it was simply chaos; stewards were pushing their way through narrow corridors clogged with people carrying suitcases, duffel bags, children, and practically throwing lifebelts at anyone they passed.
One steward huffed to another as they passed each other. "I told the stupid sods no luggage… oh bloody hell!" He threw up his hands at the sight of one family that was loaded down with cases and bags, completely blocking the corridor. "Bloody nightmare, this is!"
Just then, Tommy was pushing past the stewards to go in the opposite direction to them, closely followed by Theseus and Lally; he took one of the lifebelts from their arms as he went, and Theseus quickly did the same to give to his girlfriend. When they reached a huge crowd that was gathered at the bottom of the main third-class stairwell, Theseus craned his neck for any sight of his brother and frowned. "I can't see him… he's not here…"
"Everyone's pushing and shoving so much we can't see anything," Lally pointed out, quickly finishing tying her lifebelt around herself before taking his hand once more. "I told you, he might already be up on the deck waiting for us. Come on, we don't want to lose Tommy."
By this time, the Irishman was pushing his way up the steps to see what was holding up the group; there was a steel gate across the top of the stairs, with several stewards and seamen on the other side. "Stay calm please," One of them was attempting to say, only to get completely shouted over. "It isn't time to go up to the boats yet. Please stay calm. Look, please, make sure everybody that you've got your lifebelts on, and gentlemen, please allow women and children to come through to the front…"
Nearby, an Irishwoman was standing stoically with two small red-headed children and their battered luggage; as the crowd shouted over one another, all of them desperate to get out, the younger of her children, a small boy, turned to his mother and tugged at her sleeve to get her attention. "What are we doing, mummy?"
"We're just waiting, dear," She told him calmly. "When they're finished putting first-class people in the boats, they'll be starting with us and we'll want to be all ready, won't we?"
Her daughter smiled and nodded to show that she understood; as their mother straightened up and looked back towards the stewards at the gate, however, she couldn't help but notice that she looked distinctly worried.
On the starboard side of the Titanic, Officer Murdoch was lowering Boat Seven; it didn't escape his notice that it only had twenty-eight onboard, a far cry from the sixty-five it was supposedly made to carry, but he knew he couldn't waste time waiting for passengers to decide to get into the boats. He held out his arms to the crew to guide them as they started to lower the boat down toward the water sixty feet below. "Lower away! Left and right together! Steady! Both sides together!"
Slowly, the boat started to descend, swaying and jerking as it went; the women and children huddled together on the seats were clearly terrified, gasping as a sudden lurch sent one side further downwards and tilted them. Murdoch called for the men to stop, analysing the situation carefully before barking more orders.
"Hold the left side! Right side only, right side only! Right side down!" Once both ends of the lifeboat were level with each other, he gestured for the men on his left to continue. "Alright, now lower away together! Steady, lads!"
At the starboard side rail on the bridge wing, Fourth Officer Boxhall and Quartermaster Rowe were lighting up the first distress rocket; it shot off into the sky and exploded with a thunderclap above the ship, sending out white starbursts that lit up the entire deck below as they fell. Tina, who had just stepped onto the deck with the rest of her group, watched as the lights streaked down - for a moment, it had been as if God himself had lit the entire sky for them all.
From beside her, she heard Seraphina give a gasp. "My brooch - I've left my brooch. I must go back and retrieve it!"
Tina knew exactly the one she was talking about; it was a beautiful silver and moonstone brooch that her guardian rarely took off. When they had been children, she and Queenie had stolen it once to use during one of their playtime adventures - Seraphina had not been best impressed, of course, and Tina had taken the full blame so that her sister wouldn't be punished for it; a few lashes on the bottom had been more than worth making sure her sister wasn't hurt, she thought grimly.
Percival shook his head, putting a hand on his wife's back to try and comfort her. "Sera, we don't have time…"
"It's my mother's brooch, Percy!" She reminded him haughtily, pulling away. "I'm not leaving without it-!"
Before she could turn, however, Achilles had grabbed her by the wrist tightly and was refusing to let go; she glared at him, surprised by his actions, but he merely glared back with just as much anger. "Stay here, Seraphina."
"I beg your pardon-"
His grip tightened ever so slightly. "If you go back for it, I will not be telling them to hold the boat for you. Your choice."
Percival frowned, clearly displeased that another man had dared to speak to his wife in such a way but knowing better than to cause a scene now of all times; Seraphina hesitated before pulling her arm loose and lifting her head high. "Fine."
If Tina didn't know any better, she'd have thought that her guardian looked scared for the first time in her life.
As the bow of the ship began to sink down, the portholes along the side of the ship were slowly starting to become submerged under the water, glowing ominous green. Looking out from one of these portholes was Newt, who had apprehensively been watching the water rise up from inside the office of the Master at Arms. Much to his displeasure, he was still chained to the waterpipe and - even worse - Abernathy was still in the room, sitting by the edge of a desk and watching as one of the bullets from his gun rolled across the table; he caught it before it could roll off and hit the floor - the table was clearly tilted due to the front of the ship beginning to sink.
Noticing the other man looking at him, Abernathy sent him a rather unpleasant smirk before putting his bullet back in his gun. "You know… I do believe this ship may sink."
Newt forced himself to bite back the sarcastic retort that threatened to escape from his mouth, knowing it was foolish to antagonise a man wielding a clearly loaded firearm. Instead, he watched as the shorter man stood and crossed the room towards him, unable to take his eyes from the gun even as he continued speaking.
"I've been asked to give you this," Abernathy said lightly, stepping uncomfortably close to him. "As a small token of our appreciation…"
Without warning, he punched him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him completely, Newt gasped out in pain as his knees buckled, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the waterpipe he was chained to.
"Compliments of Mister Achilles Tolliver," The valet mused, taking the key for the handcuffs from the desk and slipping it into his jacket pocket. "Enjoy your stay, Mister Scamander - you'll be here a long time."
Abernathy left without so much as a backwards glance, clearly pleased with himself; Newt was still struggling to regain his breath, in agony from the punch he'd received - for a small man, he sure had packed a hell of a punch. It was difficult to say what part of him hurt the most in that moment: his stomach from being punched, his wrists from being handcuffed - or his heart, which had been so full just an hour previously but was now aching in his chest.
Oh well , he tried to think positively, despite how dire things seemed for him at that moment, at least he's gone - that can only be a serious improvement really.
As another rocket shot off across the sky, Bruce Ismay found himself starting to panic; suddenly it all seemed so much more real, so much more likely that the ship - his ship for all intents and purposes, if he said so himself - was going to sink. He looked around at the growing crowd on the deck before noticing that some of the officers were struggling with the falls of Boat Five.
"For God's sake, hurry…" He muttered before hurrying forwards frantically. "There is no time to waste! Lower away! Lower away! Lower away!"
The officer in charge of this boat, a baby-faced twenty-eight year old by the name of Harold Lowe and the youngest of all the officers on the ship, looked up from the tangled falls at the madman who had just approached. "Get out of the way, you fool!" He snapped, stopping the man from pulling at the ropes by grabbing him and pushing him away. "Do you want me to drown the lot of them?!"
"Do you know who I am?!" Ismay questioned, outraged at such treatment.
Lowe, quite frankly, did not have a clue who this man was - nor did he care. "You are a passenger," He retorted, squaring up to the other man. "And I'm a ship's bloody officer. Now do as you're told!" With that, he turned away from the managing director of White Star Line and towards those lowering the boats. "Steady, men! Stand by the falls!"
Ismay, absolutely cowed by this, backed away numbly. "Yes… Yes, quite right." As Lowe pushed past him, he had the decency to look ashamed. "Sorry, I…"
But Fifth Officer Lowe merely pushed past him, having no time for this in the slightest.
On the port side of the boat deck, Second Officer Lightoller was now loading Boat Six; by this time, Tina, her guardians and Achilles were near the boat now, just moments from getting off of the ship and to safety. Tina watched the startled faces in the crowd as fear finally began to set in among everyone; before her very eyes were a number of farewells taking place - husbands saying goodbyes to their wives and children, lovers and friends parted.
Nearby, Molly was helping a rather reluctant woman to clamber onto the lifeboat, showing a remarkable amount of calmness and leadership. "Come on, sister, you heard the man, into the boat."
Now at the front, Achilles looked at the officers expectantly. "Any room for a gentleman or two, gentlemen?"
"Only women and children at this time, sir," Lightoller repeated firmly.
At this, Seraphina reached to clutch onto her husband's elbow - but he merely laid his hand over hers and gave a pained smile. "It's alright, Sera," He told her gently. "You get on this one - once they start loading the men, I'll have a boat of my own."
She bit her lip, something she only rarely did, and gave a small nod. "Yes. Yes, of course… I wonder if the lifeboats will be seated according to class. I hope they're not too crowded-"
"Oh, shut up," Tina snapped before she could stop herself; both of her guardians and her fiancé stared at her in shock. "You don't understand, do you? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats… not enough by half. Half of the people on this ship are going to die, Seraphina, and you're worried about being sat next to someone from the second or third-class?"
Seraphina looked appropriately abashed by this reprimand, but Achilles was sneering. "Not the better half."
As she turned to stare at him, Molly reached over and gestured for them to come with her. "Come on, Seraphina, get in the boat! First-class seats are right up here!"
"You know, it's a pity I didn't keep the drawing," Achilles continued smugly. "It'll be worth a lot more by morning.
Another rocket burst overhead, bathing her face in white light as it went off - and the realisation of what he meant hit Tina like a thunderbolt: Newt was third-class, as was his brother and friends… none of them stood a chance. And here her fiancé was, gloating over the fact.
"You unimaginable bastard," She spat in disgust. "You… You…"
"Come on, Tina, darlin'," She heard Molly call to her from the lifeboat, and she glanced over to see that the older woman was now offering her a hand. "There's plenty of room for you. Come on, Tina, you're next, darlin'."
Percival looked extremely uncomfortable as he offered his hand to help her, giving Achilles a withering look as he did so; Seraphina also reached out a hand from her seat, beckoning the young woman forwards. "Come into the boat, Tina."
But Tina stepped back, shaking her head to herself; she didn't even need to think about it - she couldn't go, not now, not when she knew what she knew.
"Tina!" Seraphina was giving her a stern but concerned look. "Get into the boat. Tina, come on, stop wasting time!"
She cast one last look at both of her guardians, wondering if she would ever see them again, before straightening up with her head held high. "Goodbye Seraphina, Percival." And she turned on her heel, heading for the nearest door back into the ship.
Percival watched her go, aghast, but didn't follow her; behind him on the tipping lifeboat, Seraphina was trying to stand up to come after her but was soon forced to sit down by Molly pulling her back and the officers shouting. "Wait, no, you don't understand! Tina! Tina, come back here!"
Someone suddenly grabbed Tina roughly by the elbow, pulling her back; she knew even before looking that it was Achilles. "Where are you going?" He barked angrily, spinning her around to face him. "To him?! Is that it? To be a whore to a gutter rat?!"
Tina met his glare with a fierce one of her own, filled with a renewed fiery determination. "I'd rather be his whore than your wife."
He clenched his jaw, squeezing her arm in his grasp viciously as he tried to pull her back toward the lifeboat. "No! Stop it right now!" But she struggled against him, fighting hard to be away from him, and he shook her hard. "I said no!"
Before he could manoeuvre her any further, however, she was lifting her free arm - seconds later, her elbow connected with his nose with such force that he immediately let go of her with a curse.
"You fucking bitch!" He snarled as blood dribbled out of one of his nostrils. "You filthy little slut!"
But she was already gone, running off into the crowd and disappearing from sight.
As Achilles used his jacket sleeve to staunch the flow of blood from his nose, Lightoller was raising his arms and signalling to the men at the falls. "And lower away!"
Seraphina was clutching onto the edge of the small vessel as it lurched downwards, close to tears for the first time in years. "No, no, please, wait! Tina! TINA!" Her eyes swivelled to where her husband was watching helplessly, and she gazed up at him pleadingly. "Percy… Percy, please-!"
"I'll make sure she gets on a boat!" He called to her quickly. "Don't worry, Sera - I won't let anything happen to her!"
And then he was gone from her view too, disappearing amongst the clusters of people gathering on the deck; it was only once she was certain he was gone that she allowed a tear to fall, dread filling her from head to toe. She said nothing as Molly Brown put a heavy arm around her, merely allowing the other woman to offer her this brief moment of comfort.
Lord, please let them both get off safely. That's all I want, nothing more...please don't take Percival or Tina away from me.
Deleted Scenes featured (for anyone curious) include "Playing with Ice", "The First S.O.S", and "Mr Ismay Panics".
Again, apologies for any errors or grammar problems or whatever, I have a fever so editing isn't exactly going well for me right now!
As always, I'm grateful for any and all feedback/comments/reviews! Hopefully the next chapter will be soon - I'm so determined to finish this fic, and I don't want to jinx anything but fingers crossed!