Chapter 36
Jock
Somewhere in the Atlantic
April 15, 1912

As his bow moved across the strings, feeling the vibrations reverberate throughout his violin, Jock somehow knew this would be the final song he would ever play.

As Jock, Wallace, John, and Clark lowered their bows, they were faced with the reality that Titanic had mere minutes left. The green seawater was billowing towards them, taking deck chairs and potted plants with it.

Wallace looked at them before saying, "Gentlemen, it has been a privilege playing with you tonight." They all shook hands, Jock pausing to shake John's hand for just a little while longer.

"See you when this whole mess is over, eh?" he said with a weak smile.

John bravely smiled back, nodding before putting his cello back in its case and hurrying away. Wallace and Jock put their own violins into their cases before strapping them as close to their chests over their lifebelts. Jock went to the nearby railing, doing his best to keep his footing on the slanted deck. He looked over the side and felt his stomach turn seeing how far the drop was to the water below. He scanned the dark ocean, watching poor souls struggle to fight for their lives. He couldn't see any lifeboats nearby.

Jock, who was normally lighthearted without a care in the world, felt himself grow angry. Would they not help these poor people? Was there truly no more room on any of the lifeboats to save a single life?

"Looks like we'll have to make a jump for it," Wallace said, approaching his side. "Bride told me there would be a ship coming in a few hours."

Jock had to turn away from the screams and splashing he heard below. "I don't think we'll be able to make it that long in these waters."

Wallace was silent for a moment before he let go of the railing. "I can't stand by and go down with the ship without a fighting chance."

Wallace began to climb over the railing, taking deep, steady breaths. Despite the insanity of this decision, Jock knew he was right. What would Mary tell their son if they learned Jock had gone down with the ship? He stood up straighter and joined Wallace on the other side of the railing. Even if he died tonight, Mary would tell their son his father died trying to come home to them.

Jock and Wallace shook hands before looking down below. His hands shook and his shoulders burned from gripping the railing behind him so tightly. The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his heart, trying to calm his own breathing.

"On three," Wallace said, positioning his violin case so it was across his chest once more. "One, two–"

Jock never heard three. He simply let go, allowing himself to fall into God's hands as he tumbled down.

He hit the water and immediately felt his body become paralyzed with cold. He knew this water would be freezing, but there was no way to prepare oneself for it until you're actually living it. If it hadn't been for his lifebelt, Jock was certain he would have drowned then and there. He gasped for air, splashing about wildly as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Titanic loomed over them, tilted strongly to one side with her lights glowing eerily beneath the water. People were screaming and moaning all around him clutching onto anything they could find. Jock watched two men fight each other over a group of deck chairs that had been tied together. He paled, wondering what kind of hell this was.

And where were the goddamn boats? Jock knew there wasn't enough for everyone on board. Hell, Titanic wasn't the first liner he'd been on like this. It was common practice for luxury liners like this one, wanting to make sure there was more room to spare for amenities. But why weren't the lifeboats coming back? He had seen plenty of boats barely filled, mostly first class who didn't want to share space for fear of the boats capsizing. Why were they so heartless?

He was brought back as someone cried, "Look out!" As splashes surrounded him, he realized more people on deck had taken his lead as the inevitable was growing closer and closer. Titanic was starting to slope at a sharper and sharper angle, giving only Lord knows how much time before it succumbed to the sea. He began to swim where most of the poor souls like himself were congregating. Nearly everyone he passed was clinging to debris and furniture that had been thrown overboard, some silent while others emitted screams from the very depths of their bodies.

"Jock!"

In the midst of the moaning and panic, Jock paused. Had someone really called his name? He turned around slowly… why was it so hard to move? He prayed he wouldn't fine Nellie, Callen, Isla, or Violet calling out to them in these icy waters.

Instead, he found Wallace and Teddy clinging to a group of deck chairs tied loosely together. Wallace had his violin case on top, still strapped to his body. Teddy offered Jock a hand and helped pull his close. Jock gave a sigh of relief having something to cling onto. He was able to partially pull himself out of the water, his arms and hands so numb he could barely feel the smooth wood of the chairs.

Wallace's violin case sitting on top of the chairs was a pathetic attempt at salvaging some hope in this situation. Jock could tell from the way he was having trouble feeling his legs and even breathing, that it was hopeless.

"It's good to be with you lads."

It was Teddy who had spoken, his teeth chattering to the point that it was difficult to make out what he was saying. His glasses were lost and his wet hair was in his eyes, making him look all the more pathetic. Wallace used the hand that wasn't holding on his violin case to rest on Teddy's shoulder. It was a strange thought that these were the men Jock would die with, but yet they were the ones that he had felt closest to.

Jock was estranged from his father, his mother was in heaven. Nellie hadn't been around much since she'd been married, and Mary was beginning to feel like a stranger with how often Jock was away.

"May God have mercy on us," Wallace said. His voice was solemn, morbid even.

Jock could barely smile, clenching his teeth at the cold that was in his very bones. The cold was fading into numbness, his heart pounding in his ears. But there was a strange warmth growing inside of him, making him so tired he could barely keep his eyes open.

Would God truly have mercy on him?

He rested his head on the deck chairs, not caring it made the side of his face wet. Images of Mary went through his head, imagining her reaction upon hearing the news. He thought of their son, who would never know his father. Would Mary become an outcast because they had never married?

He shook his eyes, finally accepting his awaiting fate.

Dear God, please don't let Mary discover my infidelity.