Hello readers! I decided that before writing a multi-chaptered Jack Lives fanfic, I'd do a oneshot first. So, I hope you enjoy my latest fanfiction, Miracle at Santa Monica.

Disclaimer: I do not own Titanic. Because, if I did, Jack Dawson wouldn't have died in the first place!

There was an eerie silence over Carpathia on the afternoon of April 15th, 1912. Most survivors of the Titanic were in mourning, wives grieving for their husbands, children wishing their fathers were still there to comfort them. Some were in denial, believing that this was a dream, and sooner or later, they would all wake up in their rooms aboard the luxurious ocean liner.

Rose wanted to believe some of their silly excuses. She wished that she could tell herself that her life would go back to its normal state in a matter of hours when the sun rose. She wished that she wasn't huddled in a blanket, shivering, even though the ice caked on her skin had melted ages ago. Most of all, she wished that Jack would be right there when she woke up. She would confide in him, tell him about her nightmare, only to have him wrap his arms around her and comfort her. But, no, the terrible truth had hit her. Her lover was gone, dead. Probably at the bottom of the Atlantic by now.

At the thought of her poor Jack's body laying on the sandy ocean floor, Rose's stomach began to churn wildly, threatening to overflow even though she had not eaten in hours. Nevertheless, she sprinted to the side of the ship and leaned out over the edge, feeling as if she might puke. Breathing heavily, she fell limp over the rail and buried her head in her arms.

How could someone she had only known for a few days have had such an impact on her? The question appeared in her mind for no reason whatsoever, because she already knew the answer, plain and simple. He had taught her so much in their short time together. He'd offered her an escape from her haughty, first-class lifestyle. As little as he had, as much as he had struggled to make his way from place to place, he was perhaps the happiest person she had ever encountered. He'd showed her that life was far too precious to waste and that there was little time to feel sorry for yourself when your life was racing before you. You had to accept the hand that you were dealt and make the most out of it, appreciating every single moment with the utmost gratitude.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, they were as happy as could possibly be. And now, just five or so hours ago, Jack Dawson had floated away from the world forever. She couldn't help but think that perhaps his death was her fault. If he had never met her, he could have fended for himself. He might have lived. If she had stayed on the lifeboat, he could have laid on the floating debris instead of her. Again, he could have lived. But no, she had to survive, because she was the spoiled, lucky, little rich girl. And he had sunk beneath the waves, just like most of the others.

Even if she changed her name from Dewitt-Bukater to Dawson, she would always be the first-class brat she was raised to become. She would always be the reason for Jack's death.

This cannot be happening, Rose thought to herself.

It had been four months since the sinking. Four months that Rose had been on her own, all alone in the world. Four months she had spent grieving for Jack.

Four months she had unknowingly spent carrying his child.

She shook her head frantically to clear her mind and laid her hands to her temples. She was a mother. In five short months, she would have full responsibility of a living, breathing child… Jack's child.

Her lower lip quivered with the urge to cry. She didn't know the first thing about raising a child, and even if she did, she wasn't sure if she could do it alone. Besides, when the baby did come, how was she to provide for it? She lived in a shabby apartment in Culver City, and she made minimum wage as a waitress at the diner. Occasionally, a local theatre company would hire her to play a small role in a play for a somewhat suitable sum of money, but once she began to grow bigger throughout her pregnancy, she highly doubted they would continue to employ her.

She touched her hand to her slightly rounded stomach and ran her hand lightly over the bump. She felt almost guilty bringing this baby into the world when she had no idea how to care for it. If Jack were there with her, she might've felt more confident about all this. They both could've gotten jobs, gotten twice the amount of income. They could've taken turns watching the baby when they went to work and they wouldn't have had to worry about a babysitter. In fact, Jack probably would've been a better parent than she was. She could imagine him as a perfect father - caring, funny, and full of love. She wanted to believe that she would be a good mother without him, but she really wasn't too sure.

"I'm so sorry, little one." She whispered, moving her hand in gentle circles around her stomach. "I wish I could give you a better life than the one I'm bringing you into. You have to be strong for me, okay? Because we're going to get through this together." She assured her unborn child. "I promise."

For a few moments, there was silence, but suddenly, Rose felt a small nudge in her abdomen, as if the baby was trying to signal to her that it had heard her. She let out a small yelp of surprise, but she smiled nonetheless. "Oh, your daddy would have loved you so much." She whispered with a small, sad smile. "I miss him. I really do."

After another kick, Rose sat down on the side of her bed and rested her hand on the top of her stomach. "I hope you think I'm a good mother." She said. "Because I'm going to try to be the best I can be. You'll have to bear with me though." She added with a small laugh. "Just remember that I love you, little baby, and if your daddy is watching over you right now, he loves you, too. We'll always be there for you."

After months of waiting and preparation, Rose's baby girl was brought into the world on the morning of January 9th, 1913.

The first time she saw her daughter, Rose could have sworn her heart melted at the very sight. She had a small bit of hair atop her tiny head already, a bright auburn to match her mother's. She couldn't help but smile when she saw the obvious semblance between them, but what really caught her attention were her eyes. They were brilliant blue, the exact shade Jack's had been.

At the sound of her cry, Rose's motherly instinct kicked in, and she gently brought the baby closer to her. "Shhh… it's alright, my little girl. Everything is okay." She whispered to her. The baby girl continued to cry, but it grew softer with every passing moment until she was quiet.

With a small smile, Rose ran her hand over the top of her daughter's head, trying to comfort her. As she held her, she continued to notice similarities between them, and to Jack. She had many of his facial features; his blue eyes, a round face… Rose could've even sworn she recognized his nose there on the face of their daughter. Her full lips, however, had come from her, along with her long, black eyelashes.

Time continued to fly by. Rose could've sworn she could hold her daughter for hours and never tire, but as the moments passed, the little baby's eyelids began to droop. "Are you tired, Jacqueline?" She whispered, having named her after her father. She gave a small, little yawn, which Rose supposed could figure as a yes.

Slowly, she began to rock her back and forth, holding her close, and began to sing her to sleep.

"Come, Josephine, in my flying machine.
Going up, she goes, up she goes.
Balance yourself like a bird on a beam.
In the air she goes, there she goes.
Up, up, a little bit higher.
Ooh my, the moon is on fire.
Come, Josephine, in my flying machine
Going up - all on - goodbye."

Rose had been dreading this day for months now.

As she made her way around the diner serving customers, her heart sank when she saw the date on one of their newspapers. It was April 15th, 1913: the anniversary of the Titanic's sinking. Of course, it was the front story on the paper as well.

She continued to look over the man's shoulder, reading, ignoring the strange looks she received from everyone else. As she read further, her knees grew weaker by the second.

Titanic survivor recovered

Last week on April 8th, a lost survivor of the Titanic was spotted and recognized by fellow survivor Margaret "Molly" Brown.

While Brown had been on vacation in Santa Monica, California, this past week, she claims that she saw a man sitting on a bench who she had originally presumed to be dead. "I'd recognize him anywhere!" She claimed afterwards. "The blonde hair that always hung in his face and the blue eyes gave him away dead straight. But it was that drawing pad that he always kept with him that made me stop and think. That's Jack Dawson, I know it!"

She claims to have tried to address him upon seeing him, but he ran away as soon as he'd seen her. "He's distressed, I know that much. He met a girl aboard, a rich girl who was engaged to be married, and he was lovestruck right away. She didn't survive." She goes on to say. "To tell you the truth, I thought he was dead, too."

Reporters went on to discover the reason for Mr. Dawson's unexpected survival of the disaster. The ship RMS Carpathia which picked up survivors claimed not to have had him aboard, but the captain of the ship CS Mackay-Bennett claimed to have found a man floating on a piece of driftwood when they had come to clean the ocean of the dead bodies left from the sinking. "The bloke was half-dead when we found him, and we almost embalmed him right then and there! We only found he was alive when he started moaning in his sleep, something about a girl named Rose." He told us. "He made me promise him not to tell anyone he was alive. He said he had no family, and his best mate had died aboard the Titanic. He didn't want this girl's family coming after him."

So, who is this mysterious survivor? Is Ms. Brown correct in her assumptions? And if so, where is Jack Dawson now?

The next thing she knew, her knees gave out. Rose felt the cold linoleum floor pressed against her cheek, but she was able to ignore the pain. She had more important things on her mind. Jack was alive…

That was when everything went black.

A month or so later, Rose sat on a bench in the park, Jacqueline laying in her stroller beside her. Ever since she had seen that article, she had wasted no time searching constantly for Jack. She'd checked every phone book, asked everyone about him, and even knocked on random doors where people named Jack lived. She'd had no luck whatsoever, and the terrible truth was beginning to hit her. Maybe Molly had made a mistake… perhaps Jack wasn't alive at all. It was the rational explanation, of course, but Rose simply hadn't wanted to believe it. The article had said that he'd been spotted in Santa Monica, where he'd promised to take her someday while they were aboard the Titanic. It said that the man picked up by the Mackay- Bennett had talked about her. It couldn't be a mere coincidence. Jack had to be here…

Rose didn't notice she was crying until the hot tears stung her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting a few more escape, and reached down for her daughter. But as she began to pick up Jacqueline, she realized that her daughter was gripping a piece of paper that had flown by in the wind.

Rose turned it over to look at the back, and her heart nearly stopped. It was a drawing of two people floating in a body of water, one of them laying on a door, and the other gripping her hand over the side. It was her and Jack.

"Hey, excuse me, I think the wind blew my drawing over here. Would you happen to-"

She turned around to face the sudden voice, and her heart caught in her throat. The same blonde hair, the beautiful, blue eyes, and his usual somewhat ratty outfit… It was Jack.

Without thinking, she gently set Jacqueline down in her stroller and sprinted towards him, flinging her arms around him, sending both of them toppling into the dew-dropped grass.

"Uh… what are you…" He began to say, but when Rose lifted her head up and he finally saw her face, his jaw dropped wide open. "Rose…" He whispered in awe, and immediately, his lips were on hers.

She couldn't tell how long they had been kissing until Jacqueline began to whine, wanting her mother's attention. She pulled away from him, tears in her eyes. "I finally found you." She whispered, wrapping her arms around him and holding herself close.

She looked up at his face and found that he was crying, too. "How… how did you survive?" He demanded, his voice cracking.

"One of the lifeboats came back." She told him quickly, not particularly wanting to remember that night. "Jack, the real question is… how did you survive? I saw you sink!"

"I don't know what happened…" He whispered. "I just realized that I couldn't breathe, and I could only think about getting back to you. When I got to the surface, you were gone, and the door was floating there empty." He explained. "I climbed onto it, and a ship came by and found me later."

Her lower lip trembled with the urge to cry. She had missed him, been separated from him for an entire year while she was pregnant with his baby. He had missed the birth of his daughter… which brought Rose back to reality, where Jacqueline continued to try to signal for her attention.

Jack seemed to notice, too. "So… are you babysitting or what?" He laughed, trying to be amusing as always.

Rose let out a small laugh and gave him a quick kiss. "She's yours." She whispered, giving him a watery smile.

His reaction was immediate. His eyes unfocused, and his smile faded into an expression of pure shock. "You've gotta be kidding me, right?"

She shook her head and stood to her feet, pulling him up along with her. "Come see."

He still seemed dazed, but he nodded and followed her back to where Jacqueline sat in her baby carrier. Rose picked her up and cradled their daughter in her arms, holding her in front of where Jack stood.

For a moment, she almost thought that Jack was going to faint right then and there, but instead, his face spread into a wide, genuine smile. "I'm a dad…" He breathed, his voice filled with wonder.

Rose smiled back at him and gently held Jacqueline out in front of her. "Do you want to hold her?" She asked. He nodded silently, the smile still on his face.

They sat down on the bench, and Jack held his arms out in a cradle. As she lowered the baby into his arms, Jacqueline almost began to cry, perhaps scared of this new person, but Jack smiled gently at her and stroked his fingers across her thin bit of hair, and she grew calm again.

With that, he began to ask Rose questions all about her. What her name was, when she was born, how the delivery went, if she'd smiled yet… everything.

"Wait a second… You named her after me?" He asked with a grin.

Rose nodded. "Of course I did. How couldn't I?"

Jack pressed his lips together as if he were resisting the urge to cry. Rose barely felt the need to resist since she was obviously crying already.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He whispered, shifting Jacqueline to one arm and wrapping the other around Rose.

She buried her face into his shoulder and continued to weep. "I thought you were dead, laying at the bottom of the ocean." She bawled. "I thought I would never see you again."

Jack laid his head on hers, and held her tight. "Shhh… it's alright. We're together now, and that's all that matters. I'm never gonna leave you alone ever again."

"That sounds just about right to me." She whispered.

Finally, she was complete. For here in his arms, she was at peace

So, what did you think of this one? Usually, I could have written this in a couple hours, but since school has started again, this took me about a week, adding to it in my little free time. It makes me sad that I don't have much time to write anymore, but whenever I post something on here, I love to get reviews! They're kind of like my reward for finding time to write. So please review! Review if you liked it, if you didn't, if you have a suggestion, a comment, a compliment, or any other form of constructive criticism. But, please, NO FLAMERS!

FallingStar95