Chapter 41: The Proposal part1
The ring box sat on Ben's workbench like an accusation.
Three months. Ninety days since that kiss in his garage, since Fiona chose him over Steve, since he stopped being the helpful neighbor and became her... what? Boyfriend felt too small. Partner was closer. The person she called at 2 AM when Liam had a fever. The one who showed Carl how to rebuild an engine while teaching him not to steal the parts. The man who made her coffee every morning in the house they didn't live in together yet.
Ben picked up the box, flipped it open. The ring caught February sunlight—modest, silver band with a small diamond. Nothing flashy. Fiona would've hated flashy.
His MacGyver Mind had calculated the purchase down to the dollar. Shop income averaged $1,200 weekly after employees and supplies. Three months of careful saving, living cheap, fixing things instead of buying new. The ring cost $800—not extravagant but real. Lasting.
Too fast, Lip had said yesterday. Three months, man. That's insane even by Gallagher standards.
Ben closed the box, set it down. His Danger Intuition hummed its usual background static—Season 2's chaos gathering on the horizon. Robbie would appear soon. The cocaine incident. House arrest. All the disasters he'd watched on TV now approaching in real life.
Unless he changed things.
Unless stability came first this time.
The shop door banged open. Lip entered carrying coffee and suspicion in equal measure.
"You're really doing this," Lip said. Not a question.
"Yeah."
"Three months, Ben. Normal people date for years before proposing."
"Nothing about my situation is normal." Ben took the offered coffee, grateful for the warmth. February in Chicago meant cold that ate through metal walls. "Your sister deserves stability. Legal commitment. Someone who won't disappear when shit gets hard."
"She's had guys propose before. She said no because she knew they'd bail eventually." Lip leaned against the workbench. "What makes you different?"
Foreknowledge. Powers. Transmigration from another universe where I watched your family's story play out over eleven seasons.
"I show up," Ben said instead. "Every day. Every crisis. I don't make promises I can't keep, and I keep the ones I make."
Lip studied him with that particular intensity that made Ben uncomfortable. The kid was too smart, saw too much, questioned everything with the precision of someone who'd learned trust was expensive.
"You love her," Lip said finally.
"Yes."
"And this isn't about... whatever else is going on with you? The weird timing, the lucky breaks, the way you always seem to know what's coming?"
Ben met Lip's eyes. "I love your sister. That's real. Everything else—the luck, the timing—it just means I can keep her safe while loving her."
"Safe." Lip laughed without humor. "Fiona doesn't want safe. She wants chaos and drama and self-destruction disguised as passion. You notice that?"
"I notice she's been drowning in responsibility since she was a kid. That every time she reaches for chaos, it's because stability feels impossible." Ben opened the ring box again. "Maybe if someone offers her stability that doesn't feel like a cage, she'll reach for that instead."
"And if you're wrong? If three months is too fast and she says no?"
His Danger Intuition showed the probability—Fiona would say yes. The timeline from the show confirmed eventual marriage, eventual partnership. But that was canon knowledge, not certainty. Real Fiona had agency, choices, the ability to deviate from scripts written in another universe.
"Then I respect her answer and keep being here," Ben said. "Proposal doesn't change that I'm not leaving."
Lip finished his coffee, crushed the cup with unnecessary force. "She's going to say yes. You know that, right? Because you're the first guy who's shown up consistently, who helps without expecting payment, who treats the kids like family instead of obligations."
"Is that bad?"
"It's terrifying. Because if you turn out to be another Jimmy—all presentation and no substance—it'll break her." Lip moved toward the door, paused. "But I don't think you're Jimmy. I think you're something weirder and potentially better. So yeah, propose. But if you hurt her, I'll find a way to hurt you back that your luck can't prevent."
He left. The shop settled into mechanical silence—engine parts cooling, February wind whistling through gaps in the roll-up door.
Ben held the ring box and thought about marriage. About commitment. About using foreknowledge to jump timelines, proposing after three months because he knew—thought he knew—that this relationship worked eventually.
Am I being strategic or manipulative? Am I offering Fiona stability or forcing it on her because I've decided that's what she needs?
His phone buzzed. Fiona: Lunch? Need to escape the house before I murder Frank.
Ben smiled despite his doubts. They had lunch together three times a week now—routine carved from chaos, small consistency in lives defined by crisis.
Yeah. Usual place?
You're buying. I'm broke until Friday.
Deal.
He pocketed the ring box. The proposal would wait a few more days. First came lunch, conversation, the normal relationship progression that wasn't normal at all because they were building something real on a foundation of his supernatural abilities and her desperate need for someone who wouldn't leave.
But maybe that was okay. Maybe love didn't need to be pure or simple. Maybe it just needed to be true.
V cried when Ben asked for help picking the ring.
Not delicate tears—full sobbing in the middle of a jewelry store while Kevin tried to comfort her and the clerk looked increasingly uncomfortable.
"Fiona deserves this," V managed between sobs. "She deserves someone who actually wants to marry her, not just string her along until something better shows up."
"It's just an engagement," Kevin said weakly.
"It's Fiona's first real engagement! Jimmy never proposed, just bought expensive shit and expected her to follow him around. Ben's actually committing!" V grabbed Ben's arm with startling strength. "You better mean this. You better not be playing some long con because if you break her heart, I will END you."
"I mean it," Ben said.
V's grip relaxed. She wiped her eyes, leaving mascara streaks that made Kevin wince. "Good. Show me what you're thinking."
The jeweler guided them to modest rings—Ben's price range excluded anything elaborate, which was perfect. Fiona would hate gaudy. V vetoed three options before landing on a simple silver band with a small diamond.
"This one," V declared. "It's elegant but not flashy. Says 'I love you' not 'I'm compensating.' Fiona will love it."
Kevin peered at the price tag. "Eight hundred bucks? That's a lot."
"That's nothing," V countered. "You spent more on your new TV. This is Fiona's engagement ring. It better be real."
Ben purchased the ring while V continued crying and Kevin alternated between supporting his girlfriend and looking profoundly uncomfortable with emotional displays in public.
Outside, V hugged Ben hard enough to crack ribs. "You're good for her. For all of them. Don't fuck it up."
"I'll try not to."
"When are you proposing?"
"Soon. Couple days. Still planning how."
Kevin grinned. "Public display? Flash mob? Jumbotron at a game?"
"Fiona would murder me if I did any of that."
"Smart man," V said. "Keep it simple. Keep it family. That's what matters to her."
They left him holding the ring box, surrounded by Chicago cold and the weight of commitment about to be offered.
Ben walked back to his shop, passing Gallagher territory—houses that had become familiar over ten months of transmigrated existence, streets he'd learned to navigate, people who nodded recognition when he passed.
This was home now. These people were family. And Fiona was the center of it all, the anchor point that made everything else matter.
He'd propose soon. In their backyard where they'd first really talked. With family present because family was everything to Fiona. Simple, meaningful, honest.
His Danger Intuition pulsed warnings about spring—Robbie's approach, cocaine's shadow, the house arrest that would test everything. But that was future disaster. This was present commitment.
Some things transcended foreknowledge. Some promises were worth making even when you knew the storms approaching. Some people were worth fighting for regardless of what came next.
Fiona was all three.
Lip found Ben at the shop two nights later with a handwritten plan.
"Family meeting," Lip said, dropping the paper on the workbench. "Saturday afternoon. I'll get Fiona there claiming we need to discuss Carl's school situation. Everyone else will be waiting."
"Carl's school situation?"
"He broke a window. Again. Fiona needs to deal with it, but really, you'll be proposing." Lip tapped the paper. "V will have the kids ready. Kevin will record it because apparently V wants footage. Ian's making sure Mickey doesn't show up and ruin the moment. I'll handle getting Fiona there without suspicion."
Ben read the plan. MacGyver Mind identified holes, timing issues, potential problems. His powers wanted to optimize, control, guarantee success.
He ignored them. Let the plan be imperfect. Let it be real instead of manipulated.
"Thanks," Ben said.
"Don't thank me yet. You still have to actually do it." Lip pulled out a cigarette, didn't light it inside the shop. "You nervous?"
"Terrified."
"Good. Means it matters." Lip headed for the door, paused. "Hey, Ben? I'm glad it's you. Glad she's got someone who gives a shit and shows up. Just... don't let the pressure break you. South Side eats people alive if they're not careful."
"I'm careful."
"Yeah. I've noticed." Lip left, taking his cigarette and his unsettling insight with him.
Ben stared at the plan—meticulous, organized, thoughtful. Lip coordinating the family, creating space for a moment that would change everything or confirm what was already true depending on perspective.
Saturday. Four days. The ring sat in his back pocket now, carried everywhere, constant weight and reminder.
Four days until I propose to Fiona Gallagher. Four days until I formalize commitment to a woman I've known for ten months and dated for three. Four days until I bet everything on foreknowledge and love being enough to survive what's coming.
Outside, February wind howled against metal walls. Inside, surrounded by tools and broken things waiting to be fixed, Ben felt the approaching moment like gravity—inevitable, terrifying, necessary.
He'd transmigrated into this universe with nothing. Now he had everything. Tomorrow he'd ask Fiona to make it permanent.
Some bets were worth making even when the odds were impossible to calculate.
That night Ben couldn't sleep. The ring box sat on his nightstand, catching ambient light from street lamps through his garage windows. He held it, opened it, stared at the diamond that represented commitment and risk in equal measure.
Three months ago he was a transmigrator with powers and foreknowledge, alone in a strange reality. Now he was about to propose to the woman he loved, in front of the family he'd chosen.
The ring felt heavy with possibility and promise. Tomorrow changed everything.
Or maybe nothing changed at all. Maybe this just made official what they'd already built over ninety days of showing up, helping, loving, being present through chaos and stability equally.
Ben closed the box. Turned off his light. Lay in darkness counting down hours until Saturday.
Tomorrow. Everything changes tomorrow.
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