A/N: Okay I've been thinking about this for a few days now, and I decided finally that I had to put it down and publish it here. I think that Rose felt trapped by her life after the sinking, so that's why I portray her in the way I do here. This is just going to be a two-shot, and the second part is written. First part is from Jack's point of view, and then the second part is from Rose's point of view. By the way, both of the parts will begin with a quote from the movie, which will be in italics, unless a word must have emphasis, in which case, it will not be in italics.

Jack

"You have a gift, Jack. You do. You see people." "I see you."

I've always been able to see her soul, even when I was alive. But for those three days that we spent together, I was only able to see the fire that I knew my Rose possessed in her soul. Now, I was able to look past her physical body and actually see her soul. Her soul had remained seventeen, never aging along with her body. But the pain of watching her physical body wither was nothing compared to the agony of seeing the anguish in her soul. Her fiery red hair had dulled to where it represented a barely glowing ember, her porcelain, seventeen-year-old face was constantly streaked with tears, and, worst of all, chains bound her wrists and ankles. It was torture to know that neither her society nor her mother had forged those chains. No. I was the one who had made those shackles that now kept her trapped on earth, and I had forcibly put them on her on the night of April 14, 1912, when I made her promise me that she would survive the sinking of the Titanic, go on, and finally die a natural death. And ever since I began watching over her, I was constantly reminded of what I did to her. I tried to shake the thoughts from my mind, reminding myself that, soon, I would never see her face streaked with tears of anguish ever again, and no longer would the chains mar her beauty. Both of us might weep, but it would be with joy, and not sadness. We would never again weep from sadness.

I blinked, allowing my vision of her pained soul to be obscured by her physical body. She still looked beautiful, even at one hundred years of age, almost one hundred and one years. Time had attempted to ravage her, but failed. I guessed that it was because her soul was locked in age as a seventeen-year-old.

Currently, Rose was in a recovery submarine, telling the crew our story. I knew that she had taken my name; I had been there with her when she did. Even so, tears of love and affection still sprung to my eyes when she reached that part of her tale.

"We never found anything on Jack," one of the men, Lewis, said. "We never found anything at all." Of course there wouldn't be any records of my life. No one back then cared anything about a street urchin like me.

"No, there wouldn't be, would there?" Rose asked. I could see tears in her own eyes, and I wanted to cry aloud. Why was it that every time I saw her, she was always crying? "And I've never spoken of him until now." Rose continued. "Not to anyone. Not even your grandfather. A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets." She looked at her granddaughter, Lizzie. The girl was also crying, and I almost wanted to comfort her as much as I wanted to comfort my Rose. "But now you know that there was a man named Jack Dawson." Rose concluded. "And that he saved me in every way that a person can be saved. I don't even have a picture of him. He exists now only in my memory." I knew that I had survived in her heart; that was how I was able to watch over her.

The submarine returned to the surface and was taken back onto the recovery ship. I followed Rose that night as she went to the stern of the ship. When she began to climb over the railing, I was reminded of the very day we met, when she had tried to kill herself by leaping off of the Titanic. But when she opened her hand and released the Heart of the Ocean into the water, I managed a small smile.

I barely noticed when she had gone back to her room. Quickly, I turned and followed her. I knew that I had limited time here before I had to return to the afterlife on the Titanic, and I had to release her from her promise.

She was sleeping peacefully when I came in, at least, her physical body was. As usual, her soul wept constantly, and the chains were pitch black against the white sheets and her pale skin. She was the very picture of sadness.

I could feel myself being pulled away. I leaned in and whispered, "You've kept your promise. Come home, Rose." Just before the usual whiteness that pulled me back to the Titanic surrounded me, I saw the manacles that were locked around her wrists begin to burst and I smiled. Soon, I would see her again.

A/N: As usual, please read and review! It helps me gain confidence!