Port was busy, and loud. Languages of all sorts being spoken. Every now and then he would catch words that he would understand, whether they were in English or phrases he had picked up from other languages.

People were moving in every which way, and he had the day to himself. Not even John was with him. It wasn't a joyous, or relaxed atmosphere, with the war going on, but still busy.

He wanted to get Emily just a little something from at least one of the places he had been on this stint. He wanted to get her something more than just a postcard or small trinket, he wanted to get her something she might find useful, once they were married.

This was his voyage home, and it would only be a few weeks until he was a married man.

He did manage to find something for his bride to be. A light dressing gown with a hand-held mirror and brush set.

As he headed back to the ship with his bounty in tow, something caught his attention at one of the ticket counters.

"I'm trying to get home to my wife and kids..."

There was some kind of response that he didn't hear.

"I don't know if they've received any of my letters to them. What does that matter? Is there not passage left on ANY ships to America? I'd even take one to Canada or Mexico if it got me to the right continent." The voice almost sounded familiar, but what had really grabbed his attention was his accent.

It was Georgian.

He knew for a fact that his ship did have space in steerage. It was incredibly unlikely that it had been filled, in the afternoon that he had been gone.

"Sir, there are no ship-"

"We still have room available." The phrase left a bad taste in his mouth. The last time he'd uttered anything similar was when his own life had been in danger on open water.

The clerk manning the ticket counter glared at him.

"There is no space left on any ship leaving within the next few days." The clerk said tersely.

"I would check that again, because I know for a fact that there is space on the ship I'm serving on, if you don't mind steerage." He said glancing to the man trying to book passage.

"That's all I could afford anyway." The man replied with a shrug.

"Sir, I think you are mistaken-" He looked back at the man behind the counter, before cutting him off again, with a sharp reply.

"I don't think that I am, seeing as I'm an officer on it. Before I left for the afternoon, there were over a hundred spots left, and I highly doubt that they've all been filled in a single afternoon."

"When does it leave though? I haven't much money to waste on lodging until the ship leaves." The man asked.

"Three days, but I'll pay for your ticket, since this man seems to not want to sell you one."

If it helped a man get home to his family, it was money well spent.

The clerk behind the counter gave in as he paid for the ticket. It was a good chunk of his savings, but it felt like the right thing to do. After he paid, he moved away from the counter to let the other man give his information that was needed, though he didn't leave the immediate area.

The man he had just paid the ticket for was older, his hair starting to grey. He would put him roughly about twice his age, give or take a few years.

Once the man was finished, he walked over to him, his gait slightly uneven with a limp.

"Thank you. I haven't seen my family in years and now, I'll finally get to go home to them." Said the man.

"Are they expecting you then?"

The man shook his head.

"Not likely, I've sent countless letters and not a single one has reached home. Though I no longer question the reasons for such, after I'd read of the Titanic."

"I was on the Titanic..." He didn't know why he had shared that. He wouldn't normally just say so; not that it wasn't in the public records that he was.

"Then you've seen your fair share of families been split apart, and death. Helpless to do anything yourself. In many ways it's like you've been to war." Said the man.

This was the first person outside of the sinking who seemed to understand.

"You've been to war then."

The man just nodded his head.

"Spanish-American, it's why I'm here and not with my family. Left behind because I'd been too critically injured to be moved. I'm lucky to have gotten away with only a slight limp. Stranded, until I could save enough to get home."

They were silent for a moment, before the veteran spoke again.

"I haven't introduced myself. Henry Hudson." The older man held out his hand to shake. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

He nearly dropped his package that was carrying his gift for Em, before he just stared the man, blinking.

The accent, the name, the familiar sounding voice. Trying to get home to his wife and kids... trying... trying to get home to him. The longer he stared the more concerned the man looked at him.

He swallowed and licked his lips as the word he wanted to say, got caught in his throat. Finally he got it out quietly, as he choked on it, "dad?"

He swallowed again.

Holding out his shaky hand to where the man's- his dad's was to shake, his dad's expression now confused, until he introduced himself, voice quivering as he stuttered in shock.

"I- ...Jess- ...it's Jesse- ...I'm Jesse- ...Jesse Hudson." He didn't care that there were tears welling up in his eyes, his dad was alive and coming home.

He had just unknowingly paid for his dad's ticket home.

The man, no, his dad, reached out to grasp him, tears welling in his eyes too.

"Jesse... my boy. You've grown just a bit since you were ten." A soft smile graced his father's face.

"I would hope so." He couldn't help but scoff, which didn't seem to bother his dad.

"You're exactly how I'd imagined you'd look. You instantly made me think of you. And look at you, already an officer." Said his dad.

"I hope you don't plan on trying to pay me back, because knowing that you're alive and coming home is the best payment there is."

"I won't. I tried- so many times- I've tried coming home and I very nearly did get a chance to get to New York but couldn't afford a week's lodging in port before the ship left as well as the ticket... How are Henry and Ruth? How has your mother faired?" His dad was looking at him so eagerly for news, but he didn't know about what had happened to momma, he was going to crush him with the fact she was gone.

"Henry and Ruth are well...Henry's married with a couple children of his own. Ruth's engaged and soon to be married. I-...dad..." he ran a hand through his hair, "...years ago, momma and Ruth fell ill, Ruth still struggles. Some days are better than others-" He could see his dad's expression falling already.

"And your mother?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words before finally just shaking his head.

"Sarah... ...How long ago?" Asked his dad.

"About ten years. ... I don't have to be back to the ship for a couple hours yet..."

"We've got a lot to catch up on."

"We do. I know somewhere we can go."

oOo

"How long has Henry been married for?" His dad asked.

"Since 1908, so seven years. He has two kids, a daughter, Rebecca, who'll be three this year, and a son, Daniel, who was just born last year."

"And you said Ruth's engaged and soon to be married?"

Jesse nodded.

"What is he like? Do you like him? Is he anywhere near good enough for Ruth? How long have they known each other?"

"He's from Maine, and somehow he's ended up being a close friend of mine. His name is John Winters, and he and Ruth met because on our first trip John and I were bunked together and he's been following me around ever since. He's a good man though, he'll treat Ruth the way she deserves to be. He's sailing this trip too, so you'll be able to meet and judge for yourself." He said.

"I'll trust you about him, you know him, where as I'd only be getting a first impression. You and Henry both sat him down though?"

"Yes sir, didn't make it easy on him."

"What about you? Do you have someone in your life?" As soon as his dad asked, a soft smile bloomed on his face, just thinking of Emily.

"I do, this is my last stint as an unmarried man. In a few weeks I will be marrying Miss Emily Piston."