A Dream Come True (Benedict Cumberbatch FanFiction)

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I hope everyone will enjoy this update! I'm sorry it's taken so long! Busy does not begin to describe my schedule...Anyway, hope you enjoy! Please comment your thoughts!! Can't wait to keep this story going :)

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"Ben, I'm not broken. I can carry something." I push my side of what I know to be a pointless argument. Benedict hasn't let me lift a finger since we left the hospital. I bet if given the option he would've taken a wheelchair home. 

"Nonsense. Doctor's orders. You were prescribed some good ol' R&R." 

The seriousness in his tone makes me giggle slightly, but I immediately stop once I feel the pain resonating in my side. I know he's right, but I hate him seeing me this weak. My eyes start to tear. I turn away from him in the elevator up to our flat, but he hears me trying to control my breathing.

"Bridget, what's wrong?"

"I hate feeling this way. Frail. I just want to be the girl you fell in love with again."

He grabs my hands, dropping the small bags of groceries and my clothes on the ground. "Don't you dare think that you're not that same person. And you're not frail. If anything you're stronger than you were before. You were shot, and you survived."

By the end of his small speech, he's also sniffling. I wrap my arms around him and ignore the pain. He gently hugs me by my waist. We're interrupted by the elevator doors opening.

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Ben has put away all the groceries and thrown my clothes in the laundry, other than my shirt, which we threw away. I had joked about keeping it as a memento. "Not many people can say they own the shirt they were shot in with a bullet hole to prove it." I teased, but in turn Ben stared me sternly in the eyes, took the shirt from my hand, and threw it in the garbage at the hospital. 

We lie on the couch, his hand resting over my scar. Simon and Garfunkel softly accompany our lazing. Every once in a while, he'll put his hand under my shirt, feel the scar, and cringe. It kills me to know I caused him any pain. He ordered my favorite pizza for dinner. I basically ate the whole thing in one bite. Ben barely ate a slice. Even though I'm home and well, his worry hasn't gone at all. As my thoughts continue to wander, Benedict stands and holds his hand out to me. 

"Dance with me."

For Emily, Wherever I May Find Her is playing. I am silent as I take his hand and rise to my feet. Etched onto his face is something I've never seen before. Pure need. Need for me. 

One hand cups his while the other rests on his shoulder. His other hand is resting on the small of my back. Our eyes don't break contact until Benedict moves his face to my neck and I rest mine on his shoulder. Our swaying hypnotizes me as he whispers into my ear. 

"This is the song we'll dance to at our wedding." 

My head jumps back to look at him. He's smiling that gentle smile that he has when he knows something I don't. Before I can completely grasp what's going on, Ben is holding my hands.

"Bridget, you make me feel better than I ever have. Every time you're not with me, it feels like a piece of me is missing. I almost lost you once, and I won't let it happen again. Bridget Grove," He kneels. "Will you marry me?"

"I...I..." 

And that's all I remember before passing out.