My Heart Must Go On

Washed Up

A month later, Jack washed up on the bank of New York. He was malnourished and nearly dead. But he had to go on for Rose. What if she was dead? Jack shoved that thought out of his head. No, she couldn't be. 

"Rose," he croaked, crawling up the beach. "Rose, Rose!" 

Someone heard him. They hurried over. "Sir, are you alright?"

"Rose," he muttered. "Titanic, d-death, hungry, f-frozen." The person gasped. Then they began shouting for help. A few moments later, doctors came running to help. 

The person quickly said, "It's another Titanic survivor, we have to help!" 

Jack was taken to a hospital, where he was immediately fed. He was too exhausted today more than a few bites, and fell asleep. 

                               ***********************************

After about a week, Jack was let out of the hospital. He only had one goal, stepping into the streets of New York, and that was finding Rose. 

He noticed an old newspaper on the ground and picked it up. Titanic Tragedy Kills Thousands was the headline. Then Jack noticed a list of people, first class, second class, third class. A survivor list! Jack quickly searched the first class list of survivors. Ruth Dewitt-Bukator- but there was no Rose. Jack's heart sank. Rose was dead. After all they had been through. Jack felt his eyes get wet. He needed to distract himself. 

Jack spotted a bar and quickly went in. He ordered a drink and just sat there. After a while, a man leaned over to him and said, "Ay, buddy. My name is Gerald... What's yer name?"

Jack stared straight forward. "Jack. Jack Dawson." Gerald jerked back quickly. 

"Dawson? Any relation to Rose Dawson?" 

Jack jerked back as well. Rose...Dawson?

 Could it actually be her? But why Dawson? Jack turned to Gerald. 

"Rose Dawson?" He asked, his heart pounding. 

"Yeah," Gerald said, flipping through a newspaper. "Maxie's mystery girl nobody ever sees." Maxie's girl? Jack was going to have to pummel this Maxie. Gerald finished flipping and opened up to the front  page. It was the same newspaper Jack was reading earlier.

" 'Ere," Gerald pointed at the third class section of the survivors. And sure enough, there she was! Rose Dawson! Could it really be Rose? 

"Where does she live?" Jack asked desperately. 

Gerald hesitated. "Aye, man I shouldn't just give ye an address that is personal information."

Jack grabbed his coat. "Sir, I need to know where she lives. This is my only lead on knowing that Rose isn't dead. I NEED TO KNOW!"

The man backed up. "O-okay..." He said, writing down an address and handing it to him. Jack quickly left the bar and followed the directions. He found himself standing in front of an apartment building. He went in. 

A man at the desk asked, "May I help you?" 

Jack walked over to him. "Yes, I am a Titanic survivor, and I'm looking for someone I met on the ship. I don't know if she's alive or not."

The man looked sympathetic. "Well, there is a Titanic survivor staying here. She never comes out of her room though, and when she came in her to buy it, she was pretty dang depressed. She only really says one word, according to the maids."

Jack's heartbeat quickened. "And what is that?" 

"Something Dawson...I think maybe Jack?"

"That's her. " Jack said immediately. "What is her room number?" The man gave it to him and Jack sprinted upstairs. Rose could be alive, she could be alive. He reached the room and stopped. Without hesitation, he knocked on the door. 

                                    * ***********************************

Rose heard a knock on her door. She was lying on the couch. She had barely gotten up at all in the last month, and refused to eat more than she needed. Slowly, she stood up. The knocking grew more urgent. Was it Cal?

She opened the door, bracing herself to defend against Cal. She opened the door expecting a storm. Instead, she found a gentle wave. 

She stared at him. This could not be real. Jack couldn't be alive she had seen him die! But he seemed very real. He was frozen, too. He was drinking her in, she could tell, looking at every part of her. She was doing the same to him. His sandy blond hair had grown a bit, and his clothes were all wrangled. But he was perfect. 

"J-Jack?" She whispered. Jack moved suddenly and pulled her to him, crying. It was him! He was just mad warm as he was on the Titanic. His strong arms held her, and held her, and held her. He leaned down to her face. "I will never, ever let go, Rose."

Rose pulled him into her room and Jack couldn't wait any longer. He kissed her, he kissed her hard. She responded eagerly, for it was Jack, her Jack. She pressed closer to him, and he just kissed her more. They finally pulled apart, gasping, still clining to one another. 

Rose looked up into his eyes. "Jack," she whispered. "I thought you were dead." Jack held her tighter. "

"I thought you were, too." Jack let go and grabbed her hand. They walked over to the couch and snuggled.

"How-how did you find me?" Rose asked. Jack explained how he washed ashore and stayed in the hospital and how he looked at the first class names and Rose wasn't there, then going to the bar, and-- he stopped. 

"Rose, why is your last name listed as Dawson?" 

She leaned against him. "A lot of reasons. I didn't get off with my mother and Cal, and I didn't want them finding me, but also, it felt so...so right."

Jack kissed her again. "It was. You know what this means? Sharing a last name?"

"What?" Rose grinned at him. 

"It means that you should marry me so you can actually keep the last name Dawson."