"A Thousand Points of Light"
Author: carmen_085
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters from James Cameron's Titanic, not any real people. I do not own Titanic or any characters from the movie. I do own all original characters.
Summary: Fifth Officer Harold Lowe and Titanic's Nurse Clara Barnett lives become intertwined on the ship's maiden voyage when a young drifter is brutally beaten.
Chapter Eight
The ship was sinking.
Harry exhaled his hot breath into the night air as his t-shirt stuck to his back, slick with sweat. It was nearly twelve thirty and they'd finally swung out the last lifeboat loading it into the davits and bringing it level with the boat deck. Most of the passengers had retreated back inside the fist class reception, drinking cocktails and mingling like this was some petty formality.
He wanted to throw up. It had been almost an hour since he'd sent Clara below decks and every second that ticked by he became more certain that he'd never see her again. The idea that he had a hand in that made him want to take the Browning from his pocket and end it now. Heaving a deep breath from his chest he turned to Murdoch and nodded.
"We're swung out and ready Sir." All the boats had been prepared and were now ready to load passengers; himself and Moody leading the efforts as the two officers most familiar the the process. It had kept him busy and now he found his stomach was tied in a knot, torn between following orders and wanting to tell them all to go to hell. There was only one person on this ship he cared about and no matter what he was going to make sure she got off safely.
Harry looked up, seeing Murdoch in conversation with the Captain. Since he'd met EJ Smith at the sea trials three weeks ago, Harry hadn't once seen him looking like he did right now. Defeated and shocked to the core with disbelief, the storied Captain wandered around the boat deck with a blank expression and a listless gaze. Leaving it to his officers to coordinate the rescue efforts, he stood staring out into the dark night as if an answer to this mess could be found on horizon. Throwing his wool peacoat onto a deck chair, Harry wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. Frankly he wanted to get to it already.
Smith nodded absently and after a moment or two Murdoch returned with the word- women and children first. The band had come out to play and peppy ragtime music filled the air; giving the impression nothing was wrong and this was all just an unpleasant exercise they needed to complete. Harry stifled the anger in his gut. If these people were smart they'd start tearing the ship apart- building life rafts and flotillas from whatever they could find.
Mr. Andrew's, the master ship builder, had caroused a group of women from the reception and they were now moving toward Boat Seven. Harry put on his gloves, he'd need to assist these toffs into the boat and with his hands filthy and cut from readying the boats in the first place he was sure someone would say something. And then of course he'd go completely berserk. Sometimes- no, a lot of times- he felt like he'd been born in the wrong time. The rigors and customs of Edwardian society made no sense to him at all; he was too practical, too crass, and much too realistic to play into all these silly notions. Brandy and Broadway tunes when the only thing anyone should be thinking about was how they planned to survive this night.
Not enough boats- not enough by half. Twenty boats- if filled to capacity able to carry 1,178 individuals. He memorized that fact for the British Board of Trade Inspection and he'd not forgotten it, half the people on the ship were going to die tonight. He could still remember Clara's face when he'd told her, glazing over the shocking fact with a reassurance that it would take an act of God for the the ship to founder.
Fuck he should have known better; thumbing your nose at God never ended well and it seemed as if their rude awakening was now here. Nothing was unsinkable or invincible and they'd been damn fools to ever think so. One toff after another proceeded into the boat, stepping over the rail tutting the whole experience as absurd. He didn't look at their faces and instead urged them to move faster, step lively, bundle their skirts- a few of their men stood back watching the whole affair with cordials in hand. Not a single one of them believing the ship was about to sink.
Harry was mechanical and brisk wanting nothing more than to finish this and find Clara. He knew that wouldn't happen, though, after he loaded this boat he'd need to load another and then another until they were all gone. And well by then it would be too damn late. Perhaps he could get her into a collapsible. Gritting his teeth he tamped down the anger that threatened to explode. It would just fucking figure that after all these years of roaming the seas untethered he would find a woman he couldn't live without now…at the very fucking end of it all.
"Mister Lowe ?" Someone squeezed his hand shaking him from his thoughts as he squinted and narrowed his eyes. A young woman stared at him demurely batting her eye lashes and giving him a sly smirk. More familiar with the look of her rump bent over the settee it took him a moment or two to remember her. His stomach turned over as he bit his lip. Giving her a nod and nothing more he hoisted her into the boat.
"Watch your step Miss." She frowned at him not wanting to let go of his hand. Thankfully the gloves made it easier to wrench away and he turned toward the next one doing the same, tactfully ignoring Dorothy Gibson staring at the back of his head. What a mistake that had been. She pouted for a moment or two and then was forced to slide over the thwart in order to make room for others.
"Step lively Sir." Harry froze when he heard Murdoch's lilting Scottish accent. Looking up he saw three or four first class men scramble into the boat. On a ship full of women and children these three cowards had no compunction saving their own skin. Taking a rather aggressive step toward his superior, Harry whispered harshly in his ear.
"I thought it was women and children only for now…" He trailed off knowing full and well that Murdoch, while a kind and affable guy, was at his core a people pleaser. Someone who always smiled and nodded to the toffs, the loyal servant and seaman. Harry on the other hand, could often be expected to scowl at their entitled antics having no patience for them at all.
"There's no women left." Looking up and down the boat deck he saw that Murdoch was right. Apparently it wasn't obvious enough that the ship was sinking and most all of the passengers preferred to stay inside; the chill and the noise of the funnels letting of steam too affronting to actually believe they needed to get into a tiny wooden boat and head out into the dark sea.
They lowered boat seven with only forty people in it. Harry watched them go, the actress flashing a coy smile in his direction. Later, when he would go back and wade through a sea of the dead he would remember this moment; the unfilled seats, the gross entitlement, her stupid ass smile, and he would feel sick to his very core.
The second time Clara locked up the infirmary she knew it would be for the last time. By now she knew F-Deck was completely under water with it lapping up the stairs to E Deck. Behind her she could hear Rose's desperate breathing and the pacing of her heels. The story of Jack being hauled off in cuffs made her wince although he couldn't say she was surprised. Rose's eyes lingered on her face but said nothing most likely already knowing the answer to her own question.
Clara turned nodding toward the stairs. "It's on E Deck in the crew passage. I was there once, during the ship board orientation." Rose sank against the wall with relief. "Come on…let's go." Clara thought about sending the woman herself, this entire situation her own making entirely. But then Jack's boyish face and his sweet smile flashed through her mind and she knew she couldn't leave this ship without knowing she'd at least given him a chance if it was in her power to do so.
Descending the stairs, Clara couldn't help but to feel that she was making a mistake. That she should be heading up and finding Harry. Still, she'd told him she wouldn't leave a patient behind to save her own skin and she meant that. Water lapped at the bottom of the stairs, at least calf deep, as Clara's eyes widened. All this in just twenty minutes, swallowing hard she turned to look back at Rose who stared as well.
"Oh my God…" She whispered. Clara shook her head.
"It's cold. I've already been in it once." Rose paused before she slowly shook her head. Walking past Clara she forced herself into the water a gasp coming from her lips as she descended the stairs. Steeling herself Clara did the same, the water instantly soaking her boots and pant legs. Unlike her uniform, however, this material didn't cling to her and she was surprisingly able to move quite freely.
The rooms all looked the same now with some of the doors closed and white hallway stretching in both directions. Closing her eyes she tried her best to remember which one it was but coming up short jammed her finger in the air. "You go that way, I'll go this way…alright ?" Rose nodded surprisingly ready to do what was asked of her. As she turned and went her separate way, Clara thought perhaps she'd misjudged the first class girl and what she and Jack had was actually for real.
Thankfully, it didn't take long to find Jack, Rose yelling his name and he quickly responding. Water sloshed around her legs as Clara went in the opposite direction. Good she thought, they'd free him and she would see them both to the boat deck. She'd find Harry then and they'd figure out what to do next.
Nothing was that easy, though, and her heart fell when she saw him. Chained to a pipe and with water up to his knees. The two of them kissed and it was obvious then that this was no dalliance; Rose wasn't looking to slum for a while or find a way out of her unhappy union to Hockley. She actually loved this man and was willing to risk her life to save him.
"Clara helped me find you…" They kissed and embraced, Jack flashing her a grateful look as tears shown in his eyes. When Rose moved aside she got a look at him and he seemed alright aside from being confined in the worst possible way. They needed to find a way to unlocked the cuffs and a key was the obvious choice Apparently a silver one, small and typical of handcuffs keys at the time- easy enough to locate, but as they both searched for it, all they could find were brass keys. Most of the locked doors on the ship were opened with brass keys and Clara realize quickly these were mostly likely emergency duplicates. Her eyes wandered back to Jack as sea water crawled up the back of her legs. In a short time they would all drown if this went on as it was and seeing that immediately, Jack beckoned Rose to go find help. She was hesitant to leave and Clara agreed to go with her, knowing their odds were better if they both looked.
The ship was beginning to pitch downward now, at least this far forward, and water was spilling inside even faster than it had before. They didn't have much time and as the two of them combed the deck above they found a stuttering immigrant and a steward who was only concerned with saving his own skin. The whole time they searched, Clara wracked her brain. She could cut his arm off- it was absolutely insane but with a proper tourniquet and tight dressing he could survive. Blinking she shook the thought away. What the fuck had she just been thinking ? Even if he did survive, he was an artist and he needed his hands. She couldn't do that.
Rose was beginning to come unraveled, there was nothing to find and they were out of time. "We have to go back. Figure something out there." Clara's voice came out surprisingly calm and level. In her mind her own voice was replaced with her mama's; a frontier woman who never gave up or backed down. Perhaps that will to survive was now coming out in her, awakened by its sudden and urgent need. Rose was doubtful but she followed Clara just the same.
"I'm sorry." Her voice was small and she was't sure she heard it. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this…for what Cal did to you. I'm sorry for all of it." They paused at the top of the stairs, the water now easily chest high. Offering the younger woman a small smile she shook her head.
"It happened…and you can't change it. All that matters is what we do now." Rose took her hands and squeezed, the two women deriving strength from each other. "Are you ready ?" Throwing her overcoat onto the step Rose nodded hesitantly as they plunged back into the water, both of them gasping loudly at the chill.
It was in that moment, when everything inside of Clara was jarred and shaken that a memory popped into her head.
The warm wind blew off the prairie as the children gathered into a circle. There were more children in town than one might think, nearly all the young families of soldiers stationed on the frontier. A few Indian children sat in the back as well, mostly Sioux that now lived in the orphanage, their own families killed or simply gone. Clara held Steven in her lap, the two year old boy attached to his sister just as much as his mama. Protectively she wrapped her arms around his middle as he snuggled back into her chest. On stage a man dressed in a suit rummaged around in a box, he wore a top hat and lop sided smile.
'Traveling Magic Show'
The fliers appeared around town a few weeks ago and now that this so called 'Magician' was actually here they all waited with excitement. In the back Clara's mama stood with their horse, Buttercup, a dubious expression on her face.
It started innocuous enough with a few card tricks, a disappearing scarf, and a fuzzy white rabbit that made all the kids gasp and swoon. Things took a turn, however when handcuffs were produced. Fastening the silver wristlets on tight, the man took great pains in showing them all that he was secured. Interested to see how this was going to work, Clara leaned forward. In one swift motion the man yanked on his thumb intending to dislocate it but breaking it instead with a sickening crack and a howl of pain. Clara's mouth fell open as Steven began to scream and cry. Her mama swooped in shortly after, hefted them both back onto the horse and kicking up a cloud of dust toward home.
"Sick…just sick," Her mama muttered as she held both children against her protectively. As it would turn out, all manner of freaks and deviants toured the frontier at this time making what living they could on side shows of all sort.
Jack stared at them both, his heart sinking when he realized they'd come back empty handed. Rose muttered an apology, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks as the water lapped at their chests. Clara stared at them both before nodding slowly. It was the only way. Pushing past Rose she grabbed Jack pulling him off the desk and into the water.
"Shit ! This is cold..Shit !" Pressing his hands into the water she knew they had to be swollen from all the yanking and pulling he'd been doing
"Clara ?! What are you doing ?" She didn't immediately answer stroking the tissue around Jack's thumb hoping that she could move the swelling elsewhere for just a moment or two.
"Clara ?!" Jack met her eyes as she shook her head taking his thumb into her hand. Biting her lip, her face screwed up with impending guilt as her eye brows knit togethe.
"I'm sorry." In one swift motion she used all her strength to bend his thumb back as hard as she could. A howl of pain told her she was successful as she felt the telltale crack of his joint.
"What the hell ! Christ !" She pulled his hands out to the water and with a bit of maneuvering the cuff slid over his dislocated thumb and he was free. The shock of being free temporarily made him forget the pain as he launched himself toward her wrapping his arms around his shoulders.
"Oh my God !" Rose stared on in complete shock. Assuring him it was nothing, the three of them could celebrate no longer as they were almost underwater. Pressing toward the door they saw the way out was now a torrent.
"Come on…there's gotta be another way." Following Jack, Rose grabbed her hand cementing the fact that they were getting out of this together.
By the time Harry began preparing Life Boat 1 to be lowered he was nearly delirious with worry. It was sometime after one am and after nearly punching Bruce Ismay in the face, he struggled to keep his hands from shaking. The bloody idiot had come out of no where and was tugging on the davits like a damn fool, hysterically yelling at them to lower away. It had taken all his restraint and more than a few choice words to cower the managing director of the White Star Line into submission. His goading of the Captain had got them in this predicament to begin with, demanding more speed to 'make headlines'. Harry had half a mind to throw him overboard.
Lifeboat One was one of two cutters they kept swung out and ready in case of an emergency such as a man overboard. Just last night, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he'd placed a burning oil lamp inside the boat as was their protocol. Enough fuel to last until morning, he saw the flame flicker and not for the first time tonight wondered how they could have been so stupid. To his right Murdoch greeted a couple who simply reeked of entitlement. A woman wearing some sort of night gown kimono looking thing and a man dressed to the nines. He looked away and took the woman's hand assisting her into the boat. It did not surprise Harry that the man stepped up and entered right behind without so much as a thought, whipping his coat tails in Harry's face that was all it took.
"For God's sake ! Where are all the women ?!" He said it loud and he meant to, knowing full and well the rich bastard and his wife needed to hear it. "Where are the second and third class women ?" The woman in the boat tutted rolling her eyes and looking away shaking her head. Had Murdoch not been standing there, Harry may very well have gotten into the boat and thrown the lot of them out.
"Easy now, Officer Lowe. They're plenty boats left. No need to panic…" Murdoch narrowed his eyes briefly before allowing a group of stokers to board along with one of the lookouts- able bodies needed to man the vessel.
And so it was- a boat built for forty lowered with only twelve. Harry's chest heaved as he watched it go. Deciding that was it for him, he prepared to tell Murdoch that he was deserting his post. There were plenty of seamen around, surely just as able to help the women- and men- to step lively. Launching life boats half full of entitled pricks was a shitty way to spend his final moments on planet earth. He was going to find Clara and that was it, whatever happened to him he didn't much care because he loved that woman and if it was the last thing he did tonight he was going to tell her.
"Mr. Lowe !" Captain Smith appeared via the bridge nodding at Murdoch as he notched his head toward the port side. "Assist Mr. Lightoller on the other side, there are far more people waiting there."
Harry could do nothing but nod. "Aye Aye Sir."
He had no intention of going to the other side and was set upon dashing down the stairs but as if right on cue Jimmy appeared in front of him. Despite the cold night air he was sweating and his lip was noticeably swollen. "Fuck me what's happened ?" Jimmy made brief eye contact before shaking his head and looking away. Harry followed him to the bridge where he bent over the safe and retrieved his hand gun.
"Some bastard punched me right in the face. It's chaotic over there…Lightoller is holding is own though- women and children only." Harry exhaled a whoosh of air. As much as he wanted to abandon all duties on deck he couldn't bring himself to leave the others simply deserting the way Pittman had. Sliding into the second lifeboat launched he jumped at Murdoch's offer to man the vessel when they both knew damn well there was more than enough for him to still be doing on the ship.
Notching his head toward the other side of the ship, Harry gave his junior officer a serious look. "I'm right behind you."
So this was how it was going to be. Standing at the bottom of a crowded stairwell Clara's shoulders sank as she stared up at the locked gate. At the top stewards yelled at the passengers that it wasn't their turn yet. All around her women and scared children stared up wondering why they were being kept down here, locked up like animals. Clara chewed on her bottom lip, her clothing was soaked and she shivered. Much like Rose had discarded her overcoat, Clara left her beloved cardigan behind as it had become wet and heavy, slowing her down. At the top of the steps people pushed and screamed, begging the stewards to unlock and the gates and give them a chance.
Never had the class system been so egregiously on display. Third class passengers, working people like herself, were kept locked up so that the rich could have their chance. A little girl tugged on her mother's dress, her green eyes staring up though red curls. "Mommy what are we waiting for ?" Clara had to turn away as she blinked the tears from her eyes. This was complete bullshit.
"Bring forward the women !" The gates clinked open and predictably the entire crowd pushed forward. Panicked, the steward produced a small five shot pistol. In an instant a shot rang out, the crowd gasped, and then man was falling end over end down the stairs. He landed just in front of Clara, people parting to the sides and forming a circle. Woman screamed, men yelled, children cried out, it was absolute chaos. Instantly Clara fell to her knees staring down into the panicked face of an immigrant. He'd been shot in the neck and blood was now squirting out onto the floor. Clara had nothing to stem the hemorrhage aside from her own hands and she didn't hesitate to apply steady pressure. Many people cleared away, that it wasn't worth a bullet and that they could find another way out. A few men were at the top of the stairs pushing on the gate so hard that it bent and shook, yelling at the steward that he was a coward.
When the gate began to creak and give way, Jack saw the opportunity and rushed up the stairs to join in. For her part, Rose knelt down offering the blanket from her shoulders to Clara who shook her off. The man was dead, she'd felt him take his last breath a moment or two ago slipping away as he stared lifelessly at the ceiling. Her hands sticky with blood, Clara wiped them on her pants as Rose stared at the man on in the floor. She'd probably never seen a dead body before, at least not one like this.
"He didn't suffer." Clara felt the need to say something although she knew her statement was patently false. The last minute or two of that man's life was most likely pure terror, feeling all the life drain out of him and he absolutely helpless to stop it. Rose bit her lip before nodding slowly.
When the gate broke it did so with a clatter and a rush of excitement as all those still waiting pushed forward. The steward with the gun as well as the two crew members with him decided they were vastly outnumbered and just before the barrier gave way they cut their losses and took off. Four shots against an angry mob would do nothing at all. Jack appeared then, grabbing Rose's hand and nodding.
"Let's get out of here…" Clara agreed- let's get the hell out of here already. During the melee at the gate, watered had begun to seep in and they were now standing ankle deep. A group of immigrant women cried, shocked by the chill creeping up their legs and unsure of what to do next. Deciding she wouldn't leave anyone behind if she could help it, Clara grabbed them pushing them after Jack and Rose pointing up the stairs.
"Go…Go…" They hesitated but eventually complied hurrying after the others. It was only then that she heard the child crying. A little boy, not more than three years old cried as he stared at the dead man on the ground.
"Dada…" The water began to gather faster and it was clear to Clara that this child was now alone, his father dead on the floor, and water now up to his little shaking knees. She obviously couldn't leave him and tentatively she put her arms around him, grateful when he didn't fight back.
"Alright honey…" She hefted him into her arms, the child instinctively wrapping his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck. "It's aright." She soothed kissing the side his head as he whimpered.
"Clara ! Come on.." Jack yelled from the top of the stairs as she shielded the boy's face taking the steps two at a time, his father disappearing under a rush of water.
The group of third class passengers burst onto the boat deck with a gasp of relief. They were far forward and from this height the ship's peril was more than apparent. Clara knew they needed to find a lifeboat if they had any hope of surviving, and in the most uncanny stroke of luck Lifeboat 16 appeared to their right. The bulk of passengers had moved aft, gathering around the boats there, doing anything and everything to avoid the freezing water spilling over the bow.
"This way ! Go..GO !" The women saw the boat she was pushing them toward and nearly fell to their knees with relief. Behind her Jack and Rose followed not quite able to believe their luck. A second wave of relief washed over Clara when she realized she recognized one of the officers loading the boat as the young man who'd helped her that first day in Southhampton. Helped was perhaps too strong a word for his contribution but in any case he did what he could.
He didn't recognize her at first, her attire and half wet hanging hair surely a far cry from her prim appearance of sailing day. But after he'd loaded all the third class women into the boat he turned to her and recognition dawned. "Clara ?!"
"Take the boy." She handed the child over as he whimpered and cried before Moody passed him into the lap of a stewardess who immediately wrapped him up into her arms. Rose stood back with Jack, clear that she wasn't leaving without him.
The man with Moody, Chief Officer Wilde, looked at Jack standing there and nodded seriously. "Can you row, Son ? We've not got enough seamen to man this boat."
"He can row !" Clara answered for him nearly yelling. She knew this would be Jack's one and only opportunity to get off the ship alive. They all looked at her before Wilde nodded toward the boat, Rose getting in first and Jack behind her.
"Alright Clara now you too.." Moody took her by the arm seeing no reason why she wouldn't get in.
"No." Wrenching her arm away, Wilde decided the boat was full and called out the command to prepare to lower. Stepping away Moody looked at her questioningly, his youthful face marred with fear. "I have to find Harry." He studied her for a moment before finally nodding.
"He's farther aft with Lightoller…" He searched her face before offering a serious warning. "Don't wait to find a boat, Clara. Do you understand ?"
Finding his hand she took it and squeezed. "I won't." His eyes radiated uncertainty as he forced a smile of sort. "He's a lucky man, Harry." She offered the ghost of a smile herself before pulling the young officer into a hug.
"Take care of yourself." And with that she was gone, turning and running- just one more thing left to do.
TBC….
Boat 14 drama up next
Harry and Clara the focus going forward with a few Jack/Rose appearances
Oh and don't worry Cal isn't gone yet