Starcrossed

Thursday, Thanksgiving, had been spent in New York. By noontime Friday, they arrived in Los Angeles then decorated the house all day into the evening. He tried to hint at a love making session but she only seemed to be interested in cuddling and sleeping for the night, immediately falling into what he hoped were sweet dreams. It was now Saturday afternoon and the tree had just been finished- it looked brilliant, if they were to say so themselves. Benedict surprised Makenzie with his cooking abilities, claiming that all posh English bachelors had to know such skills. She sat at the counter laughing and watching him cook while talking and joking with himself. By the end of the meal, they both suffered from indigestion but had stars in their eyes.

The two cuddled on the sofa and watched a bit of American telly. She fell asleep in his arms then awoke to deep kisses. After countless minutes of endless snogging, Benedict found the remote and turned the background noise off. The only noises he wanted to hear could only come from her. As they continued, Makenzie took him a bit farther than he intended to go. She had taken his shirt off before he could object. Their steamy kisses went on a few minutes longer until she reached for his trousers.

"Hold on. Wait, wait," he panted, drawing the line there. Tonight, but not this moment. "Go sit by the tree."

"You wouldn't think of leaving me now," she whined with a breathless grin.

"Just do as I bloody say," he teased, shooing her with his hand towards the red, green, and white spectacle. Ben stood from the sofa as Kenzie pranced towards their tree.

His heart pounded inside his chest. Bloody hell, how did she get him so worked up? Just a second ago they had been watching a late show when simple kisses became-

"Stay calm," he repeated to himself several times, pacing in his bedroom. What was going to be their bedroom. Well, one of their bedrooms. "You have permission, have the ring, you have her love- what else is there?" His hands trembled, nearly dropping the velvet box in his hand. "Courage. You need courage. You've stood in front of audiences of a thousand. You've talked to a million people over telly at once. This is-"

"Benedict?" She was calling for him downstairs, impatient and probably growing concerned. "I thought we agreed to no presents until Christmas. Everything alright, sweetheart?"

Christmas presents. No, this was far more than that. This was him asking her to be his forever, a lifetime commitment after only a few months of dating- or did March count? Oh his mind was playing all sorts of devilish tricks on him. Doubt was stronger than he had felt in years. But why? Of course she was going to say yes… right?

"Another moment," he called down in reply.

Benedict went to his closet and found the best shirt he packed. Should he change trousers as well? No, she liked his jeans best. He pulled a white button-up from its hanger then ran into the loo. The shirt was thrown on, a bit loose but perfect for the occasion. His fingers quickly ruffled through his natural curls, just the way she liked.

"Now, to ask the question."

He hadn't rehearsed anything—very unlike him—but hoped the words would come when he needed them most. "Speak from the heart" his mother had said a few nights ago. He opened the box to look at his motivation one last time. In that instant, he was reminded of how long he had wanted to do this- propose to the woman he loved with his entire heart. It had been a good decade since he gave up on the idea, only for the dream to be resurrected by one-

"Benedict?"

One Makenzie Daniels.

With wobbly knees, he walked down the stairs. The sight of her was astounding. Kenzie was sitting beside the roaring fireplace with the twinkling white tree lights bouncing from her face. She looked just like a Christmas angel, one who had fallen to Earth just to save him. His angel spoke, some little comment that was meant to be funny, but he couldn't make out the words. She was simply sitting there in a moment somewhat frozen in time. Kenzie stood as he approached, just as he hoped she would.

"I was beginning to think that Santa had kidnapped you for some lucky little- Is something wrong?"

He could feel the red glowing in his cheeks. It wasn't the fireplace that made him so warm. She was looking so innocently as him, genuinely having no idea this was about to happen. The small box in his back pocket felt as if it weighed a stone itself. Benedict forced himself to stand in front of her with a smile. Then, the thought of being her husband turned the practiced smile into a true expression of joy.

"What are you up to? You're almost as bright as those lights," she teased, suddenly nervous herself.

"I love you," he breathed, a bit more relaxed now that he had begun. "I think I've loved you since that first conversation on Gower Street. You're perfect for me, Kenz- in every way. I knew what I had always wanted but I could never find it. Anytime I went searching for it, it always seemed like hunting a dream. But then you came into my life. You found me, turned my whole existence topsy-turvy, and I never want it to end."

That was when her smile faded and the desired look of surprise took over her features. Benedict fell to one knee, heart lodged in his throat, and stared into her eyes as if it weren't possible to look elsewhere. The man dug into his back pocket for the navy velvet box.

"You have brought more happiness and purpose into my life in the last year than I could ever thank you for. Everything I am, everything I have done means nothing without you."

He took her left hand, lightly rubbing circles against her ring finger with his thumb, then took a deep breath. Was she in a panic or was it merely shock in her gentle face? He was too nervous to tell.

"Makenzie Daniels, marry me. Be my wife and best friend from now to eternity."

With his free hand, he flipped the box's lid up. There was a long silence as she stared down at the sparkling ring. Her eyes grew wide and her breathing paused for several seconds.

"That's my mum's ring," she gasped. "How did you-"

"You're dad helped a bit," Ben smiled, praying that this was what she wanted- a proposal similar to what she always imagined for herself.

"Dad? You… you asked…"

"We talked a bit last week and he gave a few suggestions," he admitted, nerves returning with each second that passed without an answer.

"I… I love you," Makenzie finally answered, but those clearly weren't tears of joy. "I love you more than I thought was possible to love someone. And I know you love me just as much. But I…"

Benedict rose to his feet. Breathing became impossible.

"But?"

"He didn't tell you, did he?" Makenzie began to cry with an expression of slight terror.

"Tell me what?" When she didn't speak, he continued. "I know something's been troubling you the last several weeks. And I want to let you know that I'm here for you. Forever. There will never be a day that I'm not here for you, Makenzie. I wanted to-"

"I know that you're there for me. You didn't need my mother's ring to-" The girl took a deep breath while walking to the nearest chair. "Oh, Ben," she sighed. Her mind was elsewhere. More than anything else he wanted access to whatever thoughts were causing his baby such dismay.

He followed, kneeling in front of her, the box shaking in his hand.

"Talk to me?" he cooed in that low comforting tone that had worked until now. "Please?"

Her tears fell, splashing onto their held hands in her lap. He couldn't tell who this was more painful for- her or himself. What he had meant to be the happiest night of their year had become need for him to worry if they had a future at all.

"Is this about getting married? You said that you weren't sure but I thought-"

"No, it's not that," she assured him with a frustrated growl.

"Then help me understand," Benedict begged, now holding her wavering chin in his hand. "Tell me. I won't be upset. Whatever it is, it'll be alright. I promise we'll get through it."

Makenzie stood without warning then returned to the fireplace, blankly staring into the flames.

"I never thought the day would come that a man loved me enough to propose."

Once again, Ben followed her across the room to comfort her if possible. Ben started to say something but she turned around to silence him. When their eyes met this time around, he knew that something was horribly wrong. Perhaps this was the reason for her being melancholy the last few weeks. The next few minutes would surely reveal all, making everything clear. Maybe too clear.

"I'm sick, Benedict," she softly announced, just above a whisper. Her eyes begged him but for what he did not know.

"Then we won't go back until you feel better." His hand reached out to rub her shoulder but she quickly dodged his affectionate touch.

"It's not a simple flu or cold," the girl cried, her eyes closing before more tears fell.

Benedict was completely lost. What could she possibly mean? Was she upset that he proposed while she was sick? Why did that… Oh, the voice inside his head gasped.

She watched as realization crossed his face. Perhaps now he understood. Or would he try to rationalize it the way he always did everything else? No, he didn't completely understand yet. The poor man was still in shock, or maybe he'd already gone to denial.

"Clever you." A forced smile. "You even played a dying man and you still didn't noticed the signs. Perhaps I did a stellar performance of my own." A tangible silence filled the room. "Or perhaps you just didn't want to notice."

"What do you mean?" Tears were already pooling in his perfect blue-green eyes.

Though she tried, she would never be able to erase this memory from her mind. His face was contorted and full of disbelief. He had wanted this moment to be so perfect and she had once again managed to cock up his special plans. Was he understanding the words she couldn't say? Or maybe she needed to say them out loud to make them real for him, for them both.

"I'm dying, my love. Cancer, I'm afraid."

She was shocked at her own calm. He was the one going a bit mad. Perhaps her already accepting it was the cause. The news was never easy to receive. And the circumstances in which he was being told didn't help. For a few seconds, she wished she had been able to find the courage to tell him before- to save him from this. But when was the right time? When she lied about piles of papers to grade? When she had to skip their many dates to rest? When he asked about the rubbish bin in her loo?

Ben's hands flew over his mouth, hiding half of his stunned expression. He froze in that position, now crying himself. His being speechless hurt her all the more. Her lover was never speechless. Even when afraid, he always had something to say- optimistic or otherwise.

"The rubbish bin back home, you asked about it. I lied to you. It wasn't to hide feminine products or birth control." More damned tears escaped their eyes without permission. "It was to hide my medicine. And there was a negative pregnancy test in there at one point." When he didn't reply, she couldn't help taking a step towards him. Instead of moving away as she had done him, he remained standing motionless in his spot. "I'm so sorry. I should have told you-"

"You're dying," he cried, finally moving to grab her gently by the shoulders. "I-I could have helped you. I could have-"

"And that's precisely why I didn't tell you," she softly argued. "What was the point in you wasting your money trying to-"

"I would have done anything! I'll still do anything!"

"No, you won't because I'm asking you not to. Do you understand?"

He pulled her as close to him as possible, feeling her small shoulders and chest shake against him. Every happy moment, every laugh, each night wasted blissfully in bed, all hopes for the future, everything flashed across his mind. The thought of her not being there terrified him. It was the most horrific moment of his life that only equaled to his own near death. Ben closed his eyes and started weeping like a child against her. As she shushed and patted him, he only cried harder.

"How long?" the man finally choked out.

"Tests were being run while Sophie and I were on our school trip in London. I started taking medicine a few weeks before you came barging into my classroom, lovesick and perfect. And, as you've noticed, it's been getting worse." She hated the very word. It had become its own sort of sickness inside of her. Makenzie took a deep breath before saying the word she only spoke when she absolutely had to. "Leukemia." He shuttered against her. "It begins like a cold, then the flu, then gets worse until it feels like cancer. Makes you weak, tired, and eventually unable to do anything but feel the pain. Major treatments start next week. I was going to tell you then, I swear!"

"How long?" he repeated against her neck, a tortured tone she hadn't heard from him until now. It almost sounded like something he would do while playing one of his agonizing characters- something between James and Sherlock.

"I'm still in early stages." Kenzie choked down an unexpected sob of her own. "I'll be gone in a year or two, my love. Not enough time to raise a family, I'm afraid."

"Don't say that," he said between gritted teeth- not in anger but in anguish.

"I also lied about the marriage business. I would love to marry you, Benedict. Marriage is so much more than a few rings and a piece of paper to me. I just couldn't bear the thought of you becoming a widower so early in your Hollywood career." She paused, the truths she'd been hiding becoming harder and harder to reveal. "And I lied about wanting a semester as a normal teacher. This was my first and only semester, I'm afraid. The doctor said that I shouldn't push myself to finish the school year. And I didn't want to go public because-"

"I don't care about that. I'll be the telly guy that dates a cancer patient. It doesn't matter!"

"But it does, my darling. If anyone knew… Oh, Benedict. I couldn't ever ask you to go through that. It'll be difficult enough for us without everyone else knowing. I'm yours. Until my last breath, I'm yours." Words she had said before. She was going to say something else but her knees gave out.

Benedict helped her to the floor, never releasing her from his desperate embrace. They huddled together on the carpet crying on eachother. Neither knew what else to say for the moment.

She was dying. In just months, she'd be ripped away from him. Once again, Makenzie Daniels had changed the life he knew- the life they were supposed to know together. In those horrible minutes, everything seemed to make sense.

This was partly why she denied him from the very beginning. She took all those chances with him in London because she was living life to the fullest, unafraid of what her teacher, or anyone else, would say. Sophie wasn't just her best friend and sister figure; the blonde looked after Makenzie when she was away from her family. Makenzie was afraid that he would stick around just because he knew she was sick, a reason for his presence that she couldn't live with. And now it was the reason for her rejecting his proposal. Even her family tried to tell him, on several accounts. But she wanted to be the one to tell him. His headstrong Makenzie. Even now, she was trying to save him instead of giving into her own wants and desires. He had to do something. But what?

Benedict returned onto his knee and took her hands into his as they had been before, the most desperate his eyes had been yet.

"Marry me. Make me yours forever." She began to cry harder again, shaking her head.

"You want a family. I won't let you miss out on that."

"I refuse to miss out on you," he argued, his mind already made up.

"This isn't A bloody Walk to Remember, Benedict. This is real life. This is happening. You have the world watching you and I'm only going to be holding you back. In a few months, I won't even want to get on a plane or make long drives."

"Marry me," he begged.

"I can't," she whispered, unable to meet his eyes for another moment.

Makenzie buried her face into his chest. All Benedict could do was hold her and attempt something he hadn't done in ages.

Please, God, he thought while smoothing her hair from her face.