"Rose," the voice once again whispered in her ear, gentle and loving. "Rose come. It’s time to come home now."

"Lizzie?" She frowned. "Is that you dear?"

"Come with me," The voice whispered. A gentle hand grasped hers tightly, pulling her out of bed.

Keeping her eyes closed, and sighing tiredly, Rose allowed herself to be led out of the room and out onto the cold deck of the ship that was floating two thousand miles above the wreckage of Titanic. Shivering, she was led to the ship’s railing.

"Follow me," the voice spoke. Rose frowned. The voice…it came from the other side of the railing, facing her. What did the voice mean follow it? It was certain death to follow. Maybe she should open her eyes and see who this person was and how they were keeping themselves from falling into the ocean below.

"Don’t be scared. Follow me," the voice once again beckoned.

Sighing tiredly, Rose grasped the rail and followed the voice, halfway expecting to fall. But strangely, she didn’t fall. She was floating in midair. How extraordinary.

"Come Rose," the voice was now coming from below her now and quickly she followed. After a couple of minutes, she opened her eyes and gasped. She was alone. Whoever had owned the voice was long gone now. She was alone and surrounded by the blue calm sea and heading straight for the ruined ship below.

She gasped as her feet met the ruined deck. Frowning, she looked into a piece of broken glass and her eyes widened in surprise at the reflection. She was young again! Her white hair had turned back into a fiery red and her wrinkled, spotted skin was now healthy and smooth. She was seventeen years old once again. Sounds of soft band music reached her ears as she noticed that she was now wearing a white 1912 ball gown. The music grew louder as she stood there, staring in disbelief at her reflection. Finally her feet began to move to the first class saloon. Her eyes widen as the ship began to transform from the ruined wood back to it’s grand opulence. It was like the wreck had never happened.

Entering the now restored saloon, she gasped once again in unsurpassed joy. Everyone she had ever known and more were there. From the band that had played to the end, to Mr. Andrews who stood at the bottom of the steps with a welcoming smile. And on the top landing, with his back turned to her, was Jack. He had been waiting for her. That was obvious by the smile that came to his lips when he turned to see her ascend the stairs. Stretching out his hand, he led her into the warmth of his arms.

"Welcome home Rose," He smiled. "You did good."

"Never leave me again," her eyes shone with tears of happiness.

"Never again," he pulled her into a deep, all-consuming kiss.

Applause thundered throughout the saloon. Jack and Rose were together again at last. Really nothing on earth could ever come between them. Not even death. In one form or another, they were always together. Now they were together in heart, body, and soul and that was they way they stayed.


The End