If He Was Your Fan (A Henry Cavill Fanfic)

Chapter 26: Come What May

You are not hearing this, you tell yourself, you are not hearing this! You envision the look on Henry's face if you decide to tell him this—you have to tell him this. You shake your head, wanting to put your head over your ears.

"What do you mean?" You ask the doctor. "It's been eleven weeks, and I'm here, what's the problem?"

"We cannot give you the injection until we know you are not pregnant."

"But—"

"I know this is an inconvenience, but we took blood and urine and we see the depo provera is substantially weakened in your system and it hasn't been twelve weeks. Come back in two weeks and test, and if you're negative, we will give you the shot."

You gasp. "Doctor—"

"Your injection seems to be weakening after an estimated eight weeks."

"Eight weeks?!" your eyes fill with tears, shaking your head. "So—"

"So, you need to be careful after eight weeks instead of ten or eleven," he nods. "I'm sorry, it's the best we can do."

Stella calling your name breaks into your thoughts. Your misting vision clears as you look at the ring on your hand. "Hey, you okay?"

You don't want to talk about it. You don't want to talk to anyone, not even Henry.

"You're scaring me," Stella whispers, taking your hand. "I won't tell anybody." She looks around and whispers even softer. "You and Henry fighting?"

We might be, you think.

"I see the way he looks at you," Stella encourages. "I'm sure you will work it out, okay?" She smiles. "If not, we'll beat him down with bags of potatoes!"

You hug her and she slowly brings her arms around you. "Thank you!"

"No problem," she says slowly. "Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay, alright?"

You nod, half believing her words. This was major.

You meet Henry at his trailer as you have every Friday for awhile now. You see him and you try to brighten.

He smiles and you smile, not quite trusting your voice yet. He kisses you in greeting and says, "Let me get my stuff. Stay here, Kal."

"Hey, boy," you say softly, petting him. "Hard day at the office?" You laugh softly as he licks your face in greeting.

He drives you to his home, and you sit as he starts a fire. "Did the shirts arrive today?"

"Uh, yeah, I got a notification on my phone."

"You really want to dress for the party?" he asks, laughing softly, bringing you a glass of wine and going back into the kitchen.

"I thought it'd be fun," you shrug. "Besides, we're just wearing shirts, really."

"Yeah, District 12 shirts."

"I thought it'd be simple, and it won't really feel like a costume, you dress up enough as it is." You sit, thinking of the party next weekend. Would he even want to go? How is going to react--

"Okay, what's going on?" He stands over you with a wooden tray of bread, butter and cheese with grapes.

"What?" you look up from your glass. Sometimes the man moves too quietly, you think.

"You're remarkably quiet," he smirks. "Everything okay?"

Your eyes drop to your lap, and your smile fades. How do you tell him?