Starcrossed

"Much better today," she answered in a happy tone.

"Liar. You're tired; I can hear it in your voice," he accused, hating the brave face she was putting on.

"When will you be back?"

"Just in time for Valentine's Day."

"You better be."

"Something going on that night?" he teased, that smug tone rising above the worry.

"Maybe. If you're good to me until then." The lovers shared a chuckle over their mobiles. "See you in two days then?"

"Absolutely."

"Brilliant. See you then, my love."

"Rest up for me, yeah?"

He entered his London flat to find all sorts of candles lit, the scattered trail leading him upstairs. Ben couldn't help a wide grin after blowing each one out on his way up. They had talked about tonight but nothing had been decided, or so he thought. His heart was racing as well as his mind. It had been nearly four days since they had seen eachother, much too long for both.

Yet, part of him was more nervous. She had been much to frail for anything physically demanding. Thinking back on all their "sexcapades", as she sometimes called them, he knew the chances of hurting her this time around. They were chances he didn't want to take, ever. He was thrilled to see her but hesitant of the initial reunion. What was she up to, details beyond the obvious, he would discover in moments.

The line of candles ended at his bedroom door. Ben heard a soft cough or a clearing of her throat. Did she share his nerves? If so, it was proof that she already knew the situation to be risky. After a few more ragged breaths of anticipation, he opened the door.

"Makenzie," he breathed.

His woman was confidently sitting in the middle of the bed with the pink lingerie that was to be his surprise weeks ago. Now, the material hung slightly loose on her, evidence of how much she had faded in such a short amount of time.

"Hey, you," she grinned, eyes tired but expression bright and expectant. The perfect, wretched mixture of his healthy girl and the sick woman- two faces of the coin that was Makenzie Daniels.

He wanted to mutter a curse, unable to resist how beautiful and perfect she was. It had certainly been too long since they had seen one another and much too long since they were lost in an ocean of duvet. But the very thought of hurting her…

"I can't do this," he whispered, face now conflicted and apologetic. The way her eyes dimmed and expression filled with worry felt like a blow to his chest. "I refuse the be the source of your added pain," he managed to explain before she could question him.

After reflecting on his words for several silent seconds, she moved from the bed, stood directly in front of him, and searched the face she had missed so terribly. He had travel hair, clothes worn at least two days, and ragged breaths that nearly killed her. How could she not have foreseen this? Her surprise was never meant to go off without a hitch. He was always going to worry about breaking her, until the doctors gave him reason not to.

Taking his hands, her eyes only left him briefly before she replied, "This may very well be the closest to marriage we ever get." Another fraction of the brilliant light left his eyes. "And if that is the case, I want a proper Valentine's day night".

"But I'll-"

"You'll practice your vows now while I'm up and alert. Something to get me by when I'm too tired to speak or tell you how much I love you. I may not always respond during my… episodes. But I always hear. And feel."

Her small hands slid up his arms until they found his shoulders. Though she didn't speak another word, her eyes begged and pleaded for this night, this memory.

"I won't be able to live with myself if-"

"If you fully satisfy me one last time? While I still got it?" she smirked, trying her best to keep the mood light and flirty.

He couldn't deny her this. Arguing with the woman would do no good. Trying to reason with her would only upset her. She was wanting this, rather badly from what he could tell. Refusing her was no longer an option. If he declined, it would break what was left of her optimistic spirit. It would be a labor of love just as difficult as enjoyed. Ben's hesitant hands caressed her slender neck, slowly and lovingly, before his lips inched their way to hers.

Just before they met, she whispered, "Don't go easy on me. It's us. Just the two of us tonight. Nothing wrong."

Their first kisses were ferocious and animalistic, both needing this more than they knew. As he traced various patches of skin with his fingers and mouth, she whispered the sweetest chorus of his name in small gasps and moaned whispers. By the time he pulled her onto the bed, both were already panting. His eager girl started to take his shirt off but he took her hands in his instead, staring into her eyes as if it was their first time all over again.

"If we are making vows tonight, then I want to do it properly."

"No need," she quickly replied, not wanting to waste a single precious moment of her strength.

"Please," Ben gently argued, moving his body slightly away from hers. "Please allow me this?"

It wasn't until then that she realized how important this was for him. Tonight wasn't just about lingerie and a much needed union of love-hungry bodies. She quickly remembered her own practiced words, the speech she had prepared just in case he argued about hurting her. He would always worry, more now than ever. Makenzie sat up as Ben left their horizontal position. With his hands cradling her face, he pressed their foreheads together, what had become one of their most intimate gestures, and took a solitary breath.

"Makenzie Daniels," he began with a wavering voice, "Since the night I met you, you have made me a different person than I ever thought myself capable of. A better person, in fact. Everything that happened in this last year, the good and the unspeakable, will be remembered as the first year I truly lived. The incredible jobs and fame are nothing when compared to how rich your love and affection have made me." He sweetly wiped the happy tears now flowing from her sparkling eyes. "You already have a ring to show my promise to you. When you are better, and you will get better, you're going to make me the happiest man on Earth- even happier than you've already made me just because you chose me."

"Ben," she sighed, amazed at how she was falling for him all over again.

"We'll make it legal in the summer. But as of tonight… my precious angel… I consider you my wife. You have always been the heart in my chest, now be the spirit inside of my own. Be the other half that I don't deserve. Have my children," he added in a half teasing manner- more than aware of the fangirl phrase. Her blissful laughter only drove him on. "This Valentine's Day, be mine. In every sense of the word."

There was a pause, him waiting for a reply or a vow of her own. The lovers stared for what seemed the most perfect of minutes spent on Earth. Taking her hands from his to place them on his hips, she moved in towards him without much warning.

"Yes," she confirmed in a tone that sent his pulse sky rocketing. In the blink of an eye, she was sitting in his lap, legs around his waist and mouth already at work on his neck.

"Kenz," the low baritone gasped.

And then they made love in a way neither knew was possible. Slow, passionate, intentional, and then again- that time, promising the other everything they ever needed to without a single word.

He rolled over early that morning, more than aware of the warm, soft body curled into his side. Her rosy face, slow breathing, and perfect stillness. Those long lashes, pink lips, and sharpening features. His eyes roamed down her neck to a sight that turned his stomach and immediately filled him with self-loathing.

Small black splotches down her neck, in the crook where her neck met her shoulders, and a few down her arms. He didn't dare lift the covers. No more evidence was needed. He had seen all ne needed to.

Benedict got out of bed without waking her, a small success. Throwing on some jeans and a robe, he soon found himself at the window arms crossed and thoughtful. Sunlight poured in through the glass, warming him despite the February morning chill. He wasn't quite sure how long he had been standing there, but when he finally turned around, the sight of her lying in his bed with a little smirk on her face pulled at something inside of him.

The affect she still had on him was unexplainable and slightly troubling. She moved parts of him that he didn't know he possessed. Whatever he had been looking for in a love had all been found in her. Every dream or wish he had ever wasted on distant starts had come true the night she came into his life. His present, his future, his everything was her.

My wife, he thought to himself, heart full and breaking all at once for her.

"Meet us at the hospital, yeah?"

"I'll be there directly," he vowed, already trying to hail a cab.

When he got through the automatic doors, Pam was already waiting for him. She was kind while greeting him but made haste in leading him to the desired room. The two had become cordial in these last few weeks. Frequent hospital trips did that. The woman disappeared with a forced smile of pity as soon as the celebrity and family were united.

"How is she?" Ben panted.

"Just got her stabilized," James announced, less hopeful than usual. Benedict noticed.

"Still getting worse?"

"They said if she keeps this up, we'll lose her in a few weeks," a teary eyed Sophie informed in a near whisper. Ben gently took the girl by the shoulders and stared into her eyes.

"She's going to get better," he declared in a similar soft tone.

"Wishful thinking. You don't know that," James growled. "You can't will her back to health, Ben. Believe me. I've tried," the father bitterly added.

"Are they not giving her the very best treatments?"

"Yes but-"

"Have you been keeping her out?"

"Heaven knows we've kept her in as much as she allowed, and then some. She refuses to have a death bed just yet."

"Alright, stop yelling," Sophie finally shouted above the feuding men. "The pair of you arguing isn't going to help matter. Will only bring unwanted attention. Dad, you go find a cuppa or something. Cool down a bit." He started to turn then she added, "I'll find you the moment we know something."

James didn't fancy being the one who was told to leave but obeyed all the same. Perhaps she could talk some sense into the ridiculous dreamer. He left with one last frustrated growl. If he didn't make Makenzie so happy, the father almost preferred the man to leave her alone. His very presence was appreciated and unwanted in the same instant. It was obvious he loved Makenzie but the family didn't need the added drama and risk of some wicked journalist finding the story. Only time would tell.

"He's just worried about her," Sophie finally sighed, rubbing Ben's arm as a sister would to comfort an elder brother. "Same as the rest of us. It's just more difficult on him. He hides so much of his fear. By the time you see it, it's turned into aggression. But he really does fancy you, especially for Kenz."

"Be honest," he began with large eyes that begged for truth. "What are we dealing with now?"

"You'll know when you see her," the girl managed before a tear slipped out and down her cheek.

If Sophie couldn't even spell it out for him, he dreaded what he was to find in the room. What horrors awaited tonight? The last time he saw her, she looked like a ghost walking around her neighborhood with him, a bitter-sweet day in late February. Just as the memory became too much to bear, Pam entered the room, staring directly at him. His heart fell into his stomach when she gave a solemn nod.

"Go get James," Ben softly ordered before following the once loathed nurse.

It was the first time he hesitated before running to her side. There was just something different about this particular visit. Even when the nurse gestured his permission to enter, he couldn't make his feet move for several seconds. Never had he felt this way before. It was as if he was walking towards some Earth-destroying explosion; or perhaps it was only his own world turning to ruins.

"You," a familiar squeaking voice chirped from across the room, her voice barely rising above the multiple beeping sounds nearby.

Her hair had thinned, flesh had shriveled a bit more, and the skin around those still radiant eyes were a haunting purple hue. He had always seen school films and internet clips of cancer patients, too thin and fragile to be living a proper life. And now, it had become the fate of the woman he loved more than all others. Silently commanding his limbs to move, Ben slowly made his way towards her.

"I can't look that horrible," she tried to tease, knowing precisely how she must look to him.

"You're beautiful," her man whispered, tears forming in his eyes. He took her bony hand, sat in the chair, and asked, "Are you in pain?"

"Only a little," was her optimistic reply.

It turned his stomach to the point that he had to look away. One woman should never be so brave. All the endless things people complained about. Yet, the one who had every reason to scream, curse, and go completely mad was the one who wouldn't allow herself such actions. She had yet to allow herself a bit of sorrow, at least when others were around. Surly she wasn't so brave when left alone for brief times. A featherlike touch on his cheek brought his attention back down to her.

"Don't look that way, my love."

"Like what?" he nearly cried with trembling words. "Like the only woman I have ever genuinely loved is dying before my eyes?"

"Not dead yet," Kenzie sighed, managing a small grin.

"Don't do that," the low soft voice ordered. Her reply was a curious expression. "Don't you dare make jokes. I can't be strong anymore. I can no longer hide the fear and anger that has been building inside of me for weeks."

"Being fearful and angry isn't going to change it." Her argument sounded like the cooing of a dove.

Instead of arguing with her, he could only rise from his seat to bury his face into her chest. Makenzie ran her fingers through his hair, unsure of what else to say. She loved him with all her heart. Seeing him like this hurt worse than her own pain. He would never be able to convince her that her worry for him exceeded his own.

"My husband," she sighed into his curls.