If He Was Your Fan (A Henry Cavill Fanfic)

Chapter 29: Why What Who When How

"Why what?"

"It was Cynthia, wasn't it?" You ask. You hear him take a deep breath. "Why?"

"How did you know?" he asks.

"Before I passed out I saw the look on Cynthia's face," you whisper, looking at the kitten. "She had no expression. Everyone else looked worried or distraught."

"When you were rushed to our medical unit, I realized everyone we suspected were all together," Henry exhaled. "I started asking questions."

"You investigated them?"

"Yeah."

"Well, go, Sherlock," you joke softly.

"It was so serious, love."

You sober, realizing how upset he was with what he learned.

"Cynthia and Hannah are sisters."

"What?"

"Same father, different mothers," Henry explains. "Cynthia got Hannah the job here. When you were left behind during the storm, I got a criss cross of answers. Hannah said that Colin told her you left, but Colin and Cynthia blamed each other. Cynthia is above Colin, so it's easy to believe he took her word for it, which makes sense since you usually check out with Colin."

"Okay."

"That was one red flag," Henry went on. "Gracie was jealous of you, but it was Cynthia who told her what Hannah suspected about us, and knew once she got Gracie riled, sending you to the trailer would start the fireworks." He shakes his head. "That was all Gracie had done. I had a word or two with her, and Gracie was out of play for Cynthia to toy with."

"What did you—" You stop, realizing that Henry still wasn't going to tell you what happened between Gracie and him. "Go on."

"The bike accident," he continues. "This is when Colin suspected that Cynthia does not mean well with you. He knew that Cynthia went looking for my Durrell Challenge run site in the van, because she dropped people off at the bar before going. Gracie knew where I was running because she ran it, but wouldn't share the information. Cynthia sent Colin to get the van fixed and made sure you got all of the work for the day. She thought to get you in trouble for not doing your list, but you did it all, unknowingly protecting you and Colin both from her."

"God."

"Have you checked in with Cynthia since then?"

"No, Colin told me to..." You realize what happened. "He told me to check in with him, said I covered for him that day. I figured I was helping, but not like this."

"Hannah hit it off with Archer, so Cynthia lost her flunkie," Henry shook his head. "so now she had to act on her own. Her mistake was using confidential information. Your allergy was on record, but not common knowledge. And..." his voice trails off. "You said you had allergies, but not extreme. Only the doctor knew about the epi-pen, and I saw it the day you undressed after getting caught in the storm. You were trying to dry out the leg pack and you left it open."

"I've never used one till now," you explain. "I—"

"I'm just glad I saw it that night," Henry smiles gently. "I didn't ask about it, but I remembered you had it. When I saw what happened at the party, I knew the signs already because I'd taken classes about first aid and such. Hannah could feel she was up to something, and that was why she warned you. I'm not sure Cynthia knew how bad your allergy was. That's why she was frozen watching you. She didn't know how to react. I saw her, too."

"Why?"

Henry averts his eyes. "Cynthia had hopes of becoming an actress. She wanted to get close to the leads, try to make connections. She befriended Gracie by hating you because of me, but then that didn't work out, and used Hannah to get information about you since you met in London. She was jealous of you, aggravated that Hannah didn't get the connection either. She had no chance with me, none, and that pushed her further."

You shake your head. "No wonder you don't date people out of the business."

"She was in the business, just not the way she wanted," he shakes his head. "She'll be sacked by the time you return to work. Colin will take her responsibilities. I think he can do it, and you can assist him."

"Seriously?"

"Well, after all that work you did, and us not wanting to bring anyone new in, it seems the practical solution, darling."

You lay there, silent.

"Are we okay?"

"What?"

"This is...partially because of me."

"No, this is partially because someone made a whole bunch of bad choices, trying to make short cuts instead of just working hard." You feel sad. "I understand it."

"You do?"

"This is a hard business to get into," you whisper. "She's fallen off, by the way."

"Oh..." Henry looks to see the kitten asleep and puts the bottle away.

"She is out."

"Yeah."

You look at your watch and set it for four hours.

"Next feeding?"

"Yes," you say. "Anyway, she had a dream, got impatient, even scared."

"Do you?"

"Of course!" you laugh. "I love writing. It is who I am. I am not me if I don't write, love." Your breath hitches as you realize you've never called him that, but it slipped as naturally as breathing. He gives a small smile. "You get hopeful, hopeless, desperate."

"You never asked me."

"For what?"

"Anything."

"I had always hoped I would get there on my own, you know?"

"Shedding light on you still means you do."

"Maybe," you shrug. "But I didn't want you to think—"

"Think what?"

"I'm trying to use you or something," you say in a rush. "You have a lot of gifts, Henry, and influence is way down the list for me."

You share a look, and you are all but saying it, still lacking the courage. He picks the kitten up and swaddles it carefully in the blanket. "I don't know where to put her."

"A food container would be perfect," you giggle.

He smiles and gets out of bed. He returns with the newborn in a rectangular container and hands it to you. You turn and put it in front of you and Henry spoons you.

"What do we name her?"

"Keeping her, are we?"

"She needs a name, Henry."

"We'll think of something," he yawns gathering you close. "Sleep now."