Not Without You [Chris Evans]

70

Megan's POV

I started feeling tired and achy by mid afternoon. I leaned back in my chair and tried to get comfortable but it was a lost cause. "Are you all right, darling?" Tom asked, touching my shoulder. He'd been chatting with me between takes as he waited for them to finish this scene to the directors' satisfaction.

"I think I need to go lay down," I admitted. I'd tried to ignore how cruddy I was feeling but it was only getting worse. I slid down from the tall chair to my feet, Tom steadying me as I swayed slightly. "I think I've done enough for the day; I'm still not at 100% yet."

"You did better than I thought," Josh said. "You want me or Mark to walk you to Chris' trailer?"

"I'll go with you, darling," Tom offered. "I'm not going to be needed for a while yet at this rate."

"You don't have to, Tom."

"It would give me much peace of mind to accompany you, Megan. Would you prefer to walk or be carried?"

"I can walk," I sighed as we left the set, my arm in his. I was afraid of what the gossip sites would say if they got a picture of Tom carrying me around like he wanted to. "It'll do me good to move around for a bit. Josh, will you tell Chris I went to go lay down for a while so he doesn't worry?"

"Yeah. I'll make sure Sadie knows, too," he said, nodding. "Hope you feel better, Meg."

"This doesn't have anything to do with Cassie's behavior, does it?" Tom asked in a quiet voice when we got a little further away from the set.

I knew what he was talking about: Chris' very attractive makeup artist had been blatantly flirting with him all day in front of everyone. She'd toned it down when Vi was watching, but otherwise she'd been awfully bold about it. I wasn't sure why Chris hadn't put a stop to it yet, though. Maybe he really hadn't missed me that much after all. I avoided answering that question because I didn't think this was a conversation I should have with Tom - it was one I needed to have with Chris.

"I'm starting to hurt - maybe I did too much earlier? That's a lot more walking than I've done in a while," I said instead. Tom gave me a long look but seemed to take that as an acceptable answer.

"You are looking a trifle peaky, darling."

"Translation?"

"Pale."

I giggled before I remembered laughing hurt. I had to stop walking to catch my breath again, Tom looking at me in concern. "I'm always pale, Tom - although I think I belong in Scotland - I can blend in here! I've never seen so many redheads before." I straightened up and indicated I was ready to continue.

He chuckled. "It means pale as in you look a little under the weather, darling."

"Then I agree," I said, giving him a pat on the arm. "I certainly feel under the weather. Which way do we go?"

I let him lead me to where they'd parked the trailers, looking down to focus on my footing as I felt myself slip on one of the iced over puddles in our path. Tom caught me before I fell down but the rapid movement hurt, and I instantly felt a sharp pain radiating out from my abdomen.

"Are you all right?" Tom asked me as I clung to his arm, almost doubling over while concentrating on my breathing, trying to fight through the worst of the pain.

"No," I gasped, trying to hold back tears.

"We're almost there," Tom said firmly. "I'm carrying you the rest of the way."

I didn't protest; all I wanted right now was to lay down and take my pain pills. I tucked my head into his neck, my hand holding tight to the lapel of his jacket. He had me at the steps shortly, carrying me like I weighed nothing.