Chapter Text
Virgil looks down at the icy waters beneath him breaking against the side of the Titanic. Her large bow gliding through the water like a knife through butter. The cold April air adding a layer of intrigue to an already interesting ship.
Unsinkable, they say, equipped with large water stopping doors. Though Virgil’s not sure he believes it, something this heavy and massive can’t be unsinkable. But he supposes it doesn’t matter since he’s about to jump off the side. He figures it’ll be a long fall and as long as he doesn’t hit a rudder, relatively painless. That being said he’s pretty positive the water he’s jumping into is cold. Maybe cold enough to freeze him upon impact. He figures there are worse ways of going and honestly? He prefers an icy death to living a life where he’s forced to marry a woman. She was an heiress of some sort. Her father insisting on her being married, Virgil’s family falling on tough times and selling him like a piece of meat in exchange for a large dowry.
Virgil thought it odd, that this man was willing to pay for a husband for his daughter but he didn’t want to arrive in America to find out their true reasons whatever they may be.
After spending a month with her in London, Virgil knew his life would be awful if he stayed with her. Since his parents have already chosen everything else in his life for him, he is exhilarated by the fact that he gets to choose this one thing. Even if it’s his own death.
He takes a shaky step onto the railing, his dress shoes squeaking against the cold metal wet with spray from the ocean, the wind whipping around him, lifting his suit jacket. He figures it’ll be a quicker death with less clothing so he tosses his jacket onto the ship’s deck. A puzzle piece for his family. Let them realize they killed him. He takes another step up before throwing both legs around the bars and leaning over. His hands grasp tightly to top rail behind him and for a moment he takes it all in. The finality of it all. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s now or never.
“I would not do that if I were you,” a voice says from behind him.
Virgil glances backwards and sees a tall man with neatly quaffed brown hair and blue eyes covered by thin circular glasses walking towards him. The man’s wearing brown slacks and a dirty white shirt, his overcoat seems in better condition, but Virgil’s sure he’s third class. Not that he cares any. The man advances on him slowly.
“If you come any closer, I’ll jump,” Virgil threatens, his heart pounding. He isn’t going to let this man take this choice from him too. This is his choice and his alone.
The man’s hands go up and to his sides. “It is exceptionally cold.”
“I’m aware,” Virgil huffs turning back to face his watery grave.
“I do not believe you are. Perhaps I have not explained it adequately. Allow me to try another way. Have you ever visited Massachusetts?”
Virgil shakes his head.
“I have. My brother would go ice skating—much to the chagrin of my father. I was mostly uninterested in skating but joined to observe nature and to ensure my brother did not come to harm. However, that is neither here nor there, the point being the last time we went my brother fell in. Being the elder sibling, I dove in after him. I was only submerged for a matter of minutes, but the water was so cold it felt as if knives were stabbing into me.”
Virgil glances back and sees the man motion towards the water beneath him.
“Based off that information and the current weather conditions, I would assume that jumping into that water would be an even more painful experience,” he continues.
Virgil hears his footsteps stop and soft thuds. He glances back and sees the man taking off his coat and shoes. Virgil tries not to be curious but well, he can’t help it. “What’re you doing?”
“These are the only pair of shoes I own and this is my finest jacket,” he explains as if it’s common knowledge, “And if you jump in, I will have to jump in after you.”
“You wouldn’t. You don’t know me.”
“Perhaps not. But if you jump, you will require assistance and I cannot ignore someone who requires assistance,” he continues, “If I am honest the water is going to be painfully cold and I am not the strongest swimmer. My brother would regularly beat me in water races but he is more athletically built. That being said as I mentioned I know what it is like to swim in cold water and I do not wish to experience it again. Therefore, I much rather prefer if you did not jump.”
“It’ll be quick,” Virgil says naively. If there is one subject area he struggled in, it is the human body. He’s never really done anything to adversely affect his body and his books never made mention to it, “So cold it’ll stop our hearts. Plus, I can’t swim, so doubly quick for me.”
“I do not desire to create conflict with you but I am studying to one day become a doctor and freezing to death is painful. Too painful to risk and drowning is just as undesirable.” The man takes a deep breath. “If you jump, I will undoubtedly jump in after you.” He comes closer. “Perhaps, knowing this, you could reconsider?”
Virgil bites his bottom lip. He doesn’t know this man but he sounds more versed in the human body then Virgil is and freezing to death, while it is a better option then living in a loveless marriage for the rest of his life, doesn’t sound as effortless as he would’ve hoped. Add in the fact that this mysterious stranger is kind and intriguing and well, Virgil may have a couple more things to live for. He figures the man is right and turns himself slowly around. The man’s outstretched his hand already and Virgil places one hand in his, using it to stable himself on the turn. Once completely turned around he is slightly taller than his savior. The man smiles, a small smile but it makes Virgil feel warm despite the cold weather. Virgil can’t help but smile back.
“Thank you,” the man says, “I am Logan Sanders by the way.”
“Virgil Powers,” Virgil offers, his eyes unable to focus on anything but Logan’s striking blue eyes.
“Come Virgil, let us get you back on the ship,” Logan says.
Virgil’s stable for barely a second, before his feels his feet go out from under him. He gasps as his body begins to fall and quickly grabs the railing with his free hand. His feet dangle precariously, swaying back and forth as he tries to get himself up. Logan, for his part, holds tightly to Virgil’s one arm.
“Help! Please, please pull me up!” Virgil shouts.
Logan doesn’t say anything but uses both hands to hold onto Virgil’s right arm.
Virgil can’t help but freak out slightly and continues to call for help. He doesn’t want death any longer. This was a stupid choice.
“Virgil! Virgil, listen to me,” Logan orders, “I will not let you fall. I have you…”
“Please don’t let me go!” Virgil cries, trying desperately to listen to Logan and calm himself.
“I will not let you go. Please. Focus. Virgil! Focus on me, you must pull yourself up.”
Virgil nods and makes quick work. Forcing himself to focus on saving himself rather than freaking out, though it’s harder than he’d imagined. Virgil pulls himself up as hard as he can while Logan yanks him back onto the deck. Once Virgil’s over the railing, he wraps both arms around Logan’s neck as Logan continues to pull him over. The momentum from the rescue forces them both to fall, Virgil beneath his savior who looks down at him.
“I am pleased you did not jump,” Logan pants, his body reeling from the exertion.
Virgil looks at his face, sees up close his angular jaw, his deep, blue eyes, the slight red tinge on his cheeks and tip of his nose. Virgil’s not sure if Logan has the same affliction as him but Virgil—for once—just acts. He presses his mouth up against Logan’s, his lips warm despite the iciness of the air surrounding them. To his surprise, Logan kisses him back with the same vigor making Virgil’s heart pound louder than when he was dangling off the back of the ship.
Before things can continue, Logan is yanked off by two White Star Line crew members who hold his arms behind his back. Virgil shoots up and sees his mother and father approach them, angrily. His father stands the same height as Logan but has a fuller appearance. He wears a permanent frown on his face unless he’s trying to schmooze someone and tonight is no exception. His father’s green eyes are filled with rage and annoyance, housing a soul almost darker than the black suit he’s wearing. His mother on the other hand, seems slightly concerned. Virgil moves towards Logan and the two men who hold him like a criminal but his father grabs him roughly. He spins and tries to pull away.
“Are you alright? Did this man hurt you?” his father asks glancing Logan over. Logan, for his part says nothing.
“No! It…it was an accident,” Virgil replies vaguely. He knows if he tells them the truth he’ll be locked in the room for the rest of the trip to America and Logan? Logan will be arrested and possibly kept in jail for the rest of his life.
“Why was he on top of you when we came?” his father asks glaring at Logan.
“He…I…I was leaning over the rail to um, see the propellers when I slipped. It was stupid, really,” Virgil says looking at Logan who nods once. He guides his father to look at him, “Mr. Sanders saved me. He almost fell in himself.”
His father looks back at Logan. “Is that how it happened?”
Again, Logan nods.
“Well, thank you,” his father spits turning Virgil around and pushing him away.
“Shouldn’t you give the boy something?” Virgil’s mother asks, her hands tucked tightly into her fur muff. Virgil notices she’d had time to put on her fanciest coat, hat and muff before coming to his rescue. His father sighs and pulls out a $20.
“Is that all I’m worth?” Virgil asks. Logan deserves more than a measly $20 especially after he’s lied for him.
His father doesn’t say anything but walks back towards Logan. “Perhaps you would like to join us tomorrow night for dinner. You can share your tale of…bravery.”
Logan makes eye contact with Virgil, his eyes shimmering in the spotlight, before looking back to the man speaking to him. “I would like tha—”
“Wonderful,” his father says nothing more as he walks back and guides Virgil away.