A/N: Hi everyone! This is my very first fanfic! I saw the movie recently, decided to write a story on it. I want the story to fill in the holes and give a background to the characters. Please excuse any grammar errors. Enjoy reading! Afterwards, let me know what you think! But No flames please. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not James Cameron, so I own nothing.

Chapter 1

Disappointment. That was all that treasure hunter Brock Lovett could feel right now. When he had opened the safe and found no diamond, but instead papers covered in slop, he cursed. He had come so close. So close to finding his precious and priceless diamond, he could taste it. But now he had nearly given up hope. For three years, he tried to make his dream a reality, finding The Heart of the Ocean.

As a child, he didn't care for sports. Instead, he was obsessed with world history. But no other event in history fascinated him more than the Titanic. As a young teenager, he dreamed of finding the world's greatest long lost riches, and The Heart of the Ocean was at the top of his list. After pulling several strings and tons of money from his sponsors, he finally stepped foot on the world's greatest research vessel, the Keldysh.

That was three years ago. Now his dream was in shambles. Everything was riding on this last mission, his last chance to find The Heart of the Ocean. He had to scrape the very bottom of his investor's pockets just to get this last chance, and now it was gone. He'd found the safe like he promised himself, but not the diamond. "Don't worry boss, we'll find it." Louis said, as he tried to be reassuring. Brock gave a sad smile. He wanted to believe Louis. He wanted to believe that his long-lost treasure was not gone forever. But he was beginning to accept the facts, he was running out of money, and running out of time.

"Cream or Sugar, Nana? " Twenty-nine year old Lizzy Calvert asked. Ever since she had come to live on the coast of California with her grandmother Rose Calvert, everything in her life seemed calmer. She enjoyed her sojourn away from the pressure of life in New York City and college. Many people (including her parents), could not quite understand why she would trade her dreams of becoming a writer to become a caretaker to her soon to be one-hundred and one year-old grandmother. In reality, Lizzy's parents had hoped that she would be married by now, and having babies. But that wasn't what Lizzy wanted. She wanted to be in control of her own destiny. She needed time to be alone, and coming to California was her best option.

"I'll just have my coffee black today, thank you." Rose replied. As she turned her head in response, she caught a gleam of the early morning sun. The beams of light gave new life to her wrinkled face. It reminded her a new day was here, and to "make it count" as her true love once said. It had been eighty-four years since the sinking. For eighty-four years she had kept her promise to Jack, and lived on. Most of her friendly neighbors in Santa Monica always thought she was peculiar type of woman. For nearly forty years, she had called Santa Monica home. But during most of this time, she kept to herself. No one could understand, no one could imagine what a burden it was to carry out her promise to Jack. Of course there were always bright spots. Some of the brightest were when she met her husband Samuel Calvert, in New York in 1917, and had her four children. Of course, Sam was nothing like Jack, but he was an outstanding and kind man, much better than Cal ever would have been, who loved Rose for the same fiery spirit Jack that had fallen head over heels for during the Titanic's voyage. So Rose was comfortable giving a piece of herself to Sam.

But on that bright California day, her promise to Jack wasn't the only thing on her mind. Only a few days before hand, Rose had learned the awful truth. Her heart was weak, her blood pressure was high, and her state of health was declining rapidly. The dreadful and serious tone of voice her doctor used still rang throughout her ears

"Mrs. Calvert, after examining your heart, and your other ailments, I…" The doctor choked. Rose could tell by the look of his eyes that she was about to receive some devastating news. "Mrs. Calvert, I'm afraid you aren't going to live much longer." Rose gasped, but was not surprised. After all, she was one-hundred years old, her former blazing red curls no longer remained amongst her elderly snow white hair, and her joints were growing stiffer by the day. The doctor had given her at most two months to live. He couldn't promise, but if she took numerous medications she might have a chance of living a few extra months. But Rose declined. She wanted to die naturally and let the Lord take her at the proper time, and there was no use in delaying it.

As Lizzy set down her coffee and eggs, Rose turned on the TV to watch the local news. Technology had come a long way since 1912, but Rose had adapted fairly quickly, and took pleasure in knowing what was going on in the world. Within a few moments, Lizzy joined her at the kitchen table. After saying the blessing, Rose eagerly ate her food. Although she was slow, it was nice not having to worry how much she ate or fitting into a corset. Rose peered at Lizzy, who was nearly a spitting image of her father. Out of all her grandchildren, Rose adored Lizzy the most. Unlike her other cousin's who were snobbish and spoiled, Lizzy enjoyed hearing all of Rose's tales of being an actress on Broadway, meeting her grandfather, and stories of being a mother.

How her heart ached that she could not bear to tell Lizzy the truth. Not once had Jack Dawson's name ever slipped from her lips. When her family asked about her early life, she would easily lie and say it was nothing unusual or she couldn't remember. But she did, she remembered it all, her father's death, being forced to grow up and act like a lady, being forced to marry Cal, hating her mother, and her voyage on Titanic. Rose had no regrets for nearly jumping off the Titanic. If she could go back, she would have done it again. Who could live a life like that? She could almost as clear as day hear herself saying, "Why can't I be like you Jack? Just head over the horizon whenever I feel like it?" Now, because of Jack, she could. She kept her promise. She made Sam take her to do the things Jack never got the chance to do.

For eighty-four years, Jack Dawson's name had vanished from the face of the earth. The penniless artist from Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, had seemed to never exist. But all of it was coming. Jack and the Titanic were about to be on her very doorstep. As Rose peered toward the TV, she a young treasure hunter's flashing smile and his dashing voice on her TV screen. "Take a look at this photo we found. This picture had been underwater for nearly eighty-five years." Rose gasped as she peered towards the TV screen, not believing her very own eyes. "Well I'll be."