Moonstruck (benedict Cumberbatch fanfic)

Chapter 1

#1

It is during the desolate hours of 1-4 that I find my solace. Before is filled with needle prods and lukewarm chicken from the cafeteria. After is laced with more needles, physical therapy and fitful sleep. Other hours, I can watch Doctor Who, Sherlock or The Office, but it is during these that I crave something that's less of an emotional rollercoaster. While some days I find my peace in the literary masterpieces of Tolkien, Rowling and Martin, I find myself digging out my iPod classic for a little Mumford and Sons. As soon as I entered the doors of the hospital, my iPod became my most prized possesion. This one nurse, Lauren, turned out to be a audiophile just like me. Everytime she works the graveyard shift, she will bring me three new artists for me to listen to and review. In return, I give her three books to read and review. I'd say that we are pretty close. I stick the earbuds in my ears, turn on "Thistle and Weeds" and snuggle up in my Tardis blanket. I got it as a gift sixmonths ago and it is my closest link to home. I close my eyes and let the music wash over my soul.

Spare me your judgements and spare me your dreams

Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams

I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind

Alone in the wind and the rain you left me

It's getting dark darling, too dark to see

And I'm on my knees, and your faith in shreds, it seems

Corrupted by the simple sniff of riches blown

I know you have felt much more love than you've shown

And I'm on my knees and the water creeps to my chest

But plant your hope with good seeds

Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds

Rain down, rain down on me

Look over your hills and be still

The sky above us shoots to kill

Rain down, rain down on me

But I will hold on

I will hold on hope

I begged you to hear me, there's more than flesh and bones

Let the dead bury the dead, they will come out in droves

But take the spade from my hands and fill in the holes you've made

But plant your hope with good seeds

Don't cover yourself with thistle and weeds

Rain down, rain down on me

I have listened to this song so many times that I could recite the lyrics backwards. For some reason, the words of Marcus Mumford seem to click with me. Behind Jim Morrison, he is the best poet in music. My thoughts suddenly drift off  to Descanso, my bookstore/teahouse. I started it three years ago with my cousin and closest companion, Harper Hartnell. I was utterly broke after college, she had cash to burn. I was good with finances, she was good with the customers. I loved books, she loved tea. The rest is history. I really hope she picked up that special granulated sugar for the pink lemonade cupcakes. Mrs. Mcoriarty comes in every Thrusday just for them. Harper is one that stayed the closest to me once the cancer happened. She is the one who visits all the time and squeals over beautiful British actors with me. I had a boyfriend, Christian, right before the recurrence. He was smart, graduate student, funny and very handsome. I honestly thought he could have been “The One.” After the recurrence happened, he visited five times a week, then three, then once, then not at all. The same thing happened with everyone else that I thought was important in my life. I am so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I don't hear the tip-tap of dress shoes on the tile floor of York Medical. I am shaken to my senses by “Hello?” I look up with a start and gaze upon a man. But somehow this man doesn't look like a stranger. I take him in slowly. Black Gucci leather shoes, damn this man is loaded. This is echoed in his Armani suit. He must be a pretty important man. I am interrupted in my inspection by the man clearing his throat.

“Well? Are you done studying me from head to toe?” he asks with a smirk in his voice.

My head snaps up. Oh my God I know that face. I recognize those eyes, those cheekbones, that brownish hair. He grins cheekily at me as my mouth hits the floor. The man before me is Benedict Cumberbatch.

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(A/N)

First chapter is done! Sorry if it is kind of short. If I can get pretty far on this story, I might go back and write some more. Note: I am writing this because I love Mr. Benedict Cumberbatch with a fiery passion in my soul. So, if you dont like Benedict, 1. screw you 2. you should 3. just keep reading this story. Ok, so I would really love comments and likes and things like that. If you feel lead to leave a comment, please leave something encouraging. Comments like "Your writing reminds me of that of a five year old hyper girl and I think you should choke on a spoon slowly" will not be tolerated nor apperciated. Comments like "Hey! I like that you are descriptive, insert a lot of nerd referances and have the makings of an interesting story here. Keep on writing, old sport!" will be much appreciated and cherished by me. Just an FYI. Comment, like, share, all that jazz. Don't be ghostreaders.  Oh, and enjoy  the Mumford and Sons video. It is my favorite song off of "Sigh No More." Hope you like it. There is a chapter waiting for you!

And I added a picture of Carey Mulligan as Campbell Adrian. I couldn't find one of her without hair so just imagine it.