Hey, this is another Titanic fic (it's a phase; it won't pass) that I thought of ages ago and never really wrote it down until now. So here it is.
I don't own anything but the plot. I like the plot.
This is my teen fic!!! My 13th story! I've written my age! Cool! Yay!
Rose looked up at the Statue of Liberty with a broken heart. The man who had given her life, who had saved her in so many ways; he was dead. Gone. And nothing could bring him back. But she could and would go on. She would heal. Eventually.
The ship docked, and Rose got off, quickly disappearing into the crowds. She didn't want Cal to find her. She had hidden from him on the Carpathia, and she would avoid him now. She never wanted to see him again. Chances were, if he thought she was dead, she wouldn't.
Rose made a life for herself in New York City. Over the course of about a week, she got an apartment, a job, and she began to rebuild her life. In a month she was completely settled in, with good friends who were on their way to being great and best friends. She was going on. But she never forgot. She was healing, but she was still hurt.
About a month and a half after the Carpathia docked, Rose began to feel odd. The feeling didn't go away. She had no idea what was going on, so she went to see a doctor.
The doctor did what doctors do (Rose had no idea exactly what they were doing) and Rose just did what they asked. He asked questions, she answered as best she could. She waited for someone to tell her what was going on.
"Ms. Dawson," he said, finally, to her, "you're pregnant. Due in December."
Rose was shocked. She couldn't believe it. Yet it was possible. She was having Jack's baby. There was, after all, no one else. She felt slightly torn; it was wonderful to be having a baby, but the news had broken her heart again just when she had nearly pulled it back together.
She walked home. It wasn't very far, but it seemed like miles. She climbed up the stairs to the third floor of the building and put the key in her lock. The door opened, and she walked in, in some kind of trance. She walked into her bedroom, sank onto the bed, pulled her legs up to her chest, then rested her head on her knees and cried. Cried for herself, cried for Titanic, cried for Jack.
Jack was perfectly fine, physically. But emotionally he was pretty torn up. He was sure Rose was still alive, and nearly completely sure she was still in New York City, but nine months of had shown no progress. He was no closer to finding her than he had been when he saw her getting off the Carpathia and couldn't catch her before she disappeared into the crowd. Seeing redheads killed him, because they were never Rose. He saw one red haired girl now. She was carrying an infant, though she couldn't have been a year or so younger than his own twenty years. She was rushing; it was very cold, even for December. Jack watched her until she was out of sight, longing for Rose. It began to snow.
Rose had walked home after two days in the hospital. She held Jackelin close; the little girl with the oddly spelled name was a final honor to Jack. She looked just like him, too. Small blue eyes that took in everything, blonde hair that was barely visible for it was so thin.
Rose felt at peace. Motherhood gave her a feeling of ease. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but Rose was no longer completely alone. She ached to have Jack there to share this happiness, but she knew it couldn't be. She had her daughter, and that was enough.
Rose wouldn't keep the truth from her child, wouldn't restrain her. Not the way her mother had done to her. The only thing of value Ruth left with Rose was how not to act. She would do her best have her daughter's childhood to be miles better than her own. And that would be the best she could possibly do.
Well? Do you like? Please review and tell me! Yay! I like it. I don't think I'm gunna have Cal mess with his one. It'll mess itself up quite a bit.