The carriage rattled over the streets toward the Waldorf-Astoria, the horses nimbly finding their way through gaps between autos and delivery carts. My view was blurred slightly, the black crepe veil hanging over the brim of my hat obscuring my vision. Peggy, already angry about Will spending the night by me, had put her foot down. I was in mourning, I would wear the veil and black dresses until the official period of mourning, six months, was over. Three months in crepe, and three months in half mourning. I bargained her down to full mourning at least in public, and somber dresses at home. I was drowning in crepe already, the last thing I wanted was to have it follow me home. I flicked the veil up over the brim, freeing my eyes. I gave a smile to Moody, sitting across from me. "Were you all able to send word home on the Carpathia?"

He nodded, "Yes, and we let them know where to find us."

"I'll have them keep an eye out for telegrams at the house then." I took a breath, smoothing my hands over my black silk skirt. Not that I could feel it through the black kid gloves that I wore. It seemed all I was now was black clothing and a pale, powdered face. At least it was better than the officers, who had to make do with some donated suits that fit poorly. The maids had arranged for mourning bands for them though, and promised to have fitted clothing for them when they got back.

True to his word Abe had sent Ezekiel over, but with all the hurry about the house to get us out and the shopping done, he had been woefully out of place amid the bustle. Instead I sent him off to our offices with instructions to learn which of our ships were departing Southampton soon, and with a Marconigram from Will for the girl who cared for his house. It instructed her to entrust the picture of Ada to our captain, and there was a Marconigram from me for whichever captain was there to see that he cared for that picture as if it was a chest of jewels and it was to be given over to my hands only. Ezekiel had promised to see to everything, and had gratefully made his exit before all of us had loaded up to head out for the inquiry.

Will tugged at the collar of his shirt, too tight by far but it was the only donated one that fit him relatively well everywhere else. The officer on the whole looked rather shabby, having to make do with whatever they could fit into. Their clothing had been taken to be laundered, and the maids had assured me that they would have everything waiting for them, including new trunks for whenever they went back to England. Will shifted again, pulling at the cuffs now. "Be glad when this is done."

Charles looked over, his hand resting on the windowsill. "I think we all will be, back out on the sea where we belong." I kept quiet at that, part of me was still terrified of Will leaving. That fear had expanded to the other officers, they had been a distraction for me, a group of men with nothing. To me, it seemed the only thing to do, to take care of them as if they were family. When I worried about them, I didn't have to worry about myself or the future. I only had to focus on the fact that Charles's trousers were two inches short and James had a coat two sizes to big on, the shoulders drooping.

"You'll have to enjoy it for me then." Will's voice was bitter, the carriage slowing down as we approached the Waldorf-Astoria. A large crowd had gathered, and the horses had to pick their way through, the coach driver even threatening with his whip a couple times to clear out people from in front. I was looking out the window, then jumped slightly when a man pressed his face to the glass before the coach moved on.

"Christ Will, come off it. You did all you could." Charles said, any response cut off by the carriage stopping. A bellboy in the uniform of the Waldorf-Astoria opened the door, and Charles got out. Will stepped through, then handed me down. Even more reporters were gathered around, and some of them actually surged towards us before another bellboy intercepted them. I couldn't help the way I clung to Will, it seemed everyone was pressing in and shouting. All I wanted was to get away. Fortunately, inside the hotel everything seemed crowded but calmer, the other officers the only faces I recognized at first.

Slowly I could pick out a few, society matrons, and the ever present Mrs. Brown who had claimed an entire row of seats towards the front. An area had been set aside for those subpoenaed, I could see Ismay sitting there. He looked poorly, he was pale and even his mustache drooped. An aide, at least I assumed he as an aide, quickly herded the officers away, without even a goodbye and good luck, and I was left to fend for myself. The other women looked at me, eyes roving up and down my figure before turning away. If there was one thing for wearing mourning, it did tend to stop gossip. No one wanted to badmouth a young woman who had just lost her father and was making it fairly obvious. I approached Mrs. Brown, "Might I have one of these seats?"

She gave me a smile, "Of course darlin', and I'm so sorry about your father."

"Thank you," I muttered as I sat down next to her. "You made it out alright, then?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Brown was so worried he actually came out here." She laughed, "He's going back to Colorado soon, can't stand the city." I ducked my head in acknowledgment as some of the society matrons made their way past us, their large hats would no doubt be a cause of concern for the people behind them.

One stopped in front of me. "Miss Dalian, my condolences."

"Thank you, Mrs. Vanderbilt." I replied automatically. She was one of the lesser Vanderbilts, but it never did good to slight any of them. Their family could ruin you in an instant, a word to the papers and everything would crumble. The ladies accompanying her also gave their sympathies, that societal play to show that yes, you did read the news and you knew how to respond. As sincere as mud.

Mrs. Brown watched them move on, "You know, I'm working to get a relief society started, for those who lost everything. You think you could help out with that?"

"I suppose," I muttered, "What would it entail?" Mrs. Brown off like a shot, listing fundraisers and charities to set up. Her biggest idea was for a large ball, attended by as many survivors as she could find, to help raise money from the wealthiest families. I gave her my assurances that she could count on me for helping with those activities, as well as attending the ball. I would have to fight Peggy on that, depending on the time. I wasn't supposed to attend society events for at least six months, balls especially. I could probably convince Peggy though, it was for a good cause and it was not as if I would be the only one there in mourning. I listened as Mrs. Brown continued, letting myself sit in silence and listen to her, distracting myself from whatever was coming.

At least until a man shoved his way across the lady to sit next to me. He had a blank notebook in one hand, a pencil in his other. I watched as he hastily shoved his hat off his head, revealing close cropped dark blonde hair. His face, with a snub nose, was covered in stubble and his brown eyes were rather bloodshot. "Hello Miss Dalian, sorry about your father and all that. I was hoping I might get an interview while we watch." He flipped the pencil down to the book and stuck out his hand. "Frank Reading, with the Journal."

I pulled my veil back down, the classic signal to show that I was not willing to talk. Let alone to a reporter from that Hearst rag. They had the amazing talent to twist everything that was said and turn it to their own ends. The last thing I wanted right now was to give an interview. Peggy had been diligently gathering the newspapers that mentioned anything about the Titanic and saving them, I had asked her to keep them from me for now. Someday soon I might be able to read them, but everything was still so fresh. I hadn't even contacted the Reverend about the funeral yet, or the lawyers about the will. The weekend should provide some opportunity, to at least get my thoughts in order and plan out what was coming. I tried to concentrate on Will, finding him across the room. He and Charles were talking to each other quietly, and he seemed to be in good spirits. For now, at least.

"You know Miss, our readers would love to hear your story. Bringing women and children to safety, rowing back for survivors, you're practically a hero Miss, if you don't mind me saying." He leaned closer, "I've spoken to a couple of sailors who were on the boat with you already, they said you're close with the officers. Anything you can give me about them before this thing starts?" I was just about ready to leave my seat, standing for this whole thing would have been better than sitting next to him, when an older man in a suit stood and called the room to order. He introduced himself as Senator William Smith, of Michigan, and he was the head of the Senate Committee investigating the sinking. Trapped with my unwanted neighbor, I settled in to watch.

Ismay was called up first, and as he sat to give his testimony, it was obvious that he had been deeply affected. He could not remember the days exactly, and often had to pause to remember something, his voice quavering and weak. Senator Smith pressed him about how much he knew, regardless of his state; what was the speed of the ship, what about the proximity to icebergs, how exactly did he managed to get off the ship, describe the final moments of the sinking. Ismay could remember very little, he knew the approximate speed of the ship but he knew nothing about the icebergs and he had only boarded a lifeboat when there were no women and children around. He couldn't say anything about the sinking at all. It was in this last part that he tried Ismay further after his initial statement, "Mr. Ismay, what can you say about the sinking and disappearance of the ship? Can you describe the manner in which she went down?"

"I did not see her go down." Ismay said, and even when Smith tried again, he remained firm. Ismay did not watch her sink, and he was not alone. Many of those in the boats had turned away, unwilling to witness the final plunge. I was glad that even though I had watched, it had been hard to see. Even I could not remember if she had broken up or gone down whole. Ismay was questioned slightly longer, and he assured Senator Smith that every resource White Star had would be put at his disposal. He was dismissed, and gratefully exited the hearing. I couldn't help but pity the man, I hadn't met him on the ship but from what I had been given to understand he had been a proud man. And now, the ship sunk and he had to deal with the shame of being one of the few men who had gotten into the lifeboats. The officers at least had been performing their duty when getting into the boats, and I hopes I could count on some leniency in the papers for Will. He hadn't gotten into a boat, he'd hauled himself out of the water. That had to count for something.

Captain Rostron, of the Carpathia, was called next. I hadn't had the occasion to meet the man when I had been onboard, he had a rather fierce looking face but I could see smile lines around his eyes. Listening to him give his testimony was the first time I had heard how we had been found. It was all thanks to his wireless operator, who had received the distress call from the Titanic, just before he had been about to go to bed, and had been insistent that the message was of the upmost importance. Captain Rostron had then ordered his ship turned around and a course set. He had even shut off all steam to the passenger areas in order to push his engines faster. He described steaming through a great field of ice, having to slow down in order to avoid his own ship suffering our fate. Captain Rostron did not use flowery terms to describe finding the boats, everything was simple. The boats had been found, and he gave orders on what was to be done. He told about how he had brought our boats onboard, how he had set his doctors and crew to caring for us. I thought back to everyone on that ship, putting aside their own needs for us.

"We should do something for him." I whispered to Mrs. Brown. "And for his crew."

She nodded, "I had the same thought, I was thinking a nice cup, engraved and everything." I murmured my agreement, noting how Mr. Reading had immediately began scribbling. Mrs. Brown leaned over me, drawing his attention. "Sonny, if you're gonna write down everything we say, you may as well write about the relief society I'm setting up."

I stood, "You know, why don't you sit next to him? That way it will be much easier to discuss things." Mrs. Brown happily shifted over, and I was finally free of the constant eavesdropping I had put up with. At least slightly free, I could still feel Reading's eyes on me even as he was listening to Mrs. Brown. I found myself clenching and unclenching my hands in their gloves, having to literally bite my tongue when Reading began speaking about all the Reichsters had done to help people during the sinking and assist the survivors at home. Poor Mrs. Brown actually believed this, and said she would make it a point to call on Samantha and recruit her for our cause.

I felt rather incensed when Senator Smith questioned if Titanic had been on the northern route from Ireland, as if her crew had incompetently plotted her course. Captain Rostron assured the Senator that the route we had been on was the southernmost route used by liners, specifically to avoid ice. Senator Smith seemed to be an absolute fool to me, constantly questioning about minute details that none of us could remember. How many men were in the third boat you brought up? Did you knowingly disregard a message from the President about the survival of Major Butt? What did any of that matter? According to his opening statement this inquiry was to determine what had happened and why it had turned into a disaster, not to give a second by second report of the events.

When asked if he knew anything specific about what had sunk Titanic, Captain Rostron practically laughed it off. I could tell he was a kind man, he had refused to pester the officers for details while they had been onboard and made it clear he considered the rumors that the passengers had been bantering about absolutely worthless. I wondered what was being said in the papers, perhaps it would be good to start reading them tonight. Even if everything was still so fresh.

Captain Rostron acquitted himself admirably though, and I found myself wishing for the questioning over so he could get away from this place. It was fairly obvious that this was quickly turning into a sideshow, some performance that would eventually lead to blame being cast somewhere. I could only hope that Will did not become the scapegoat, he did not deserve the blame. I wasn't sure if there even was anyone to blame. I was fairly falling asleep when Senator Smith loudly called for a recess until three. I quickly got up, pushing past Mrs. Brown in order to escape the reporter dogging my steps. I made straight for Will, who looked rather bored of all things.

"Lunch?" I asked him, reaching out to adjust the band on his arm.

He nodded, "I'm starving." The other officers, moving a little stiffly, joined us as we headed to the restaurant. The Waldorf-Astoria restaurant was done up in a delightful confection of russet and gold, and the menu was equally refined. Not that mattered to the officers, who quickly ordered something simple and filling. I was quite glad to find a salad that sounded good. A basket of bread had been brought out and I was happily buttering a slice when I heard Frank Reading make a reappearance.

"Ah, Miss Dalian, gentlemen. Care to comment on the inquiry so far?" He had come up behind me, clapping his hand on the back of my chair. "What do you think about Ismay getting on one of the boats? Rather cowardly, isn't it?"

I set the butter knife down, dearly wishing it was something sharper. "Don't say anything."

"Miss Dalian, I only want to get their impression of the inquiry so far." Mr. Reading actually sounded offended, "It's my duty to our readers to report what is happening. Surely you want the public to be aware of the heroics that I'm sure these men engaged in." He looked across to Charles, who had stopped eating and was gritting his teeth. "We'd be willing to pay you quite handsomely for your story Mr. Lightoller, riding a capsized boat through the night." He then turned to Will, who's face had grown redder and redder as the reporter had been speaking. "In fact, Mr. Murdoch I have been authorized to offer you a thousand dollars just to agree to an interview, with more payment to come. Everyone wants to know exactly what happened when the ship struck."

I couldn't help slamming my hands on the table. "Can't you leave us in peace?"

"Miss Dalian, I know you are under a lot of strain at the moment, but you really should behave." His voice had gained a wheedling tone, almost lecturing. "This is business between myself and the officers."

"No." Will spoke firmly. "I will not give an interview. If you want to learn what happened, listen to the inquiry." He returned to his food, blatantly ignoring the reporter's repeated offers, Charles and the others following suit. I tried to focus on my salad, but I couldn't help but notice how Reading seemed to hang on around us, taking a table nearby and ordering an expensive lunch, loudly talking about billing it to the Journal. I found myself actually growing nervous as I looked at the clock, ticking ever closer to three. Would Will get called to the stand? What would they ask him? I desperately wanted to question him, to see what he thought, but I knew as soon as he said anything it would be in the papers thanks to that reporter.

So I simply smiled at Will, and gave his hand a squeeze when we got up to head back in. I had no doubt he was already worried enough, the last thing I needed to do was add onto it.

AN: Probably only going to have one chapter this week, due to the holidays. I am considering writing a short little Christmas one shot, is that something you'd like to see? (I already wrote it, it's getting posted Christmas Eve) I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!