Falling into the Ship of Dreams (Jack Dawson love story)

Holly shit...

Her eyes opened to a bright, white light. She was in an unfamiliar room, a white room. The wall beside her was covered in long silk-looking blinds; over her head, the glaring lights blinded her. She was propped up on a hard, uneven bed— a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. Her blue-green orbs shifted throughout her surroundings and narrowed as she clenched her jaw. The last thing she could remember was exchanging a few words with the oddly familiar looking old lady before falling overboard the Kydesh.

But how was she still alive? The fall into the monstrous waves should've gotten her killed... and if she was dead... well, she was sure as heck that death shouldn't be this uncomfortable.

Her hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across her face, under her nose. She panicked as she realized exactly to what place she was. She lifted her hand and quickly yet painfully started ripping the tubes off, but that only made the beeping sound accelerate and beep annoyingly louder. She whimpered as she pushed herself up and tried to get off the bed, but just then the door burst open and many people dressed in white rushed in. Many hands grabbed her arms and tried to hold her down, but she didn't want to be held down. She wanted— needed air, space... she needed to be alone and free for once, especially after all the overwhelming things that had been happening to her lately.

"Rose! Calm down!"

"My n-name is n-not Rose..."

"Hold her down!"

"N-no! G-get away!"

"Rose, listen—"

She winced. "I'm not Rose... let go of me," she said, though her voice came out strangled.

"Calm down, Ro—"

"I'M NOT THIS STUPID ROSE, NOW LET GO OF ME!" she screamed, trashing around, but stopped when she felt something sharp, stiff and slender being shoved into her arm before everything went black again.

"Something's wrong with her..." she heard a voice say. It was distant yet somehow familiar. "I'm worried."

"So am I. I mean, did you see how she looked? And did you hear how she was trashing around... she had to get about seven doctors and four nurses in here to calm her down," another voice replied.

Sigh. "Do you think she would get better? By all means— we're leaving in a few days."

"I don't know."

She slowly opened her eyes and turned her head slightly, only for them to fall upon a dark haired man and a redheaded woman. She had no idea who they were until the latterly events. She quickly propped herself up into a sitting position and backed as far away from them as the bed made possible.

"Rose," they both said, rushing forward.

She clenched her jaw, her nostrils flaring through the tubes input in them. "I don't know if me backing away from you was too subtle, but take a hint people," she snapped, glaring at them. She lifted her hand and quickly yet painfully started ripping the tubes off, but that only made the beeping sound accelerate and beep annoyingly louder. She ignored it, her eyes never leaving them.

"First things first, where and when am I, because by the way you're both dressed, I can only guess that we're not in ninety-six— we wear jeans."

They gave her a puzzled look though instantly looked away as her glare intensified. She groaned. "Well, it seems you won't be answering that, so I guess I'll just have to guess." She paused, thinking. "Sometime in the past... corsets... oldie blazer... dammit."

"April fourth," the man replied. "We're in Southampton, in England. We'll be boarding the ship to Philadelphia in a few days."

She gave him a blank look, blinking a few times before speaking. "Okay, to my second point: you are not my fiancé— I would know if I was getting married at seventeen." She turned to the woman. "And there is no way you are my mother. Thirdly— how in Loki's helmet did I get from North Ant to South... whatever in England?!" She was now slightly hyperventilating. "And what ship?!"