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Chapter Text

"Tay, you good?" Taylor hears Travis' voice, and she blinks, turning her head to see him looking at her from the dining table, looking up from his laptop.

"Hm?"

"You just, you were, like, frozen in time for a second there."

"Oh." Taylor looked down at the bench. The cupcakes were ready to go in the oven, she just hadn't quite reached that step yet. "Oh! I just," she took a glance at Travis, nervously stuttering when she met his eyes that remained locked on her. "I just- um. These have to go in the," she picked up the cupcake tray, "In the, yeah." Taylor mumbled pathetically, putting the cupcake tray back down to open the oven, then finally bending down to place them inside and close the oven door. She remained crouched on the floor for longer than necessary, silently berating herself.

It wasn't that she was hiding anything, or lying to him, although she managed to make it seem a lot like it. Recently, Taylor had been beginning to feel a little unsteady. Her and Travis were suddenly the least occupied that they had ever been since they began dating, and all the extra time gave her too much time to think. And overthink. Now, on this quiet Saturday afternoon, soft Spanish orchestral music flowed through the speakers in the house and Taylor found herself struggling with the idea of having absolutely nothing on. They had no plans, having decided they deserved a weekend with zero responsibilities. So, she ended up baking cupcakes. But that did nothing to quell the worries.

When Taylor stood up, she frantically avoided looking at Travis, and she could see him staring at her in her peripheral vision. Picking up the dishes to rinse in the sink, she knew her movements were unnatural. She wished so badly that she could act normal.

"Taylor."

There it was. Her eyes snapped up to his.

"Yeah?"

"What..." his eyes drifted down. "Can you turn off the tap?"

Taylor nodded, and turned it off. She swallowed, looking back at Travis.

"What's wrong? Please don't bullshit me."

Taylor opened her mouth and frowned, surprised by his words.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I just-" Travis sighed and stood up, walking over to Taylor as he spoke. "Taylor, will you please just tell me if you're not okay?"

Standing before her, he looked at her expectantly. After she remained silent, seemingly waiting for him to speak, he continued.

"I love you. You know that, baby?"

Taylor nodded slowly, a soft smile on her face. He looked at her with so much kindness in his eyes. She loved him so much. Too much. Her smile faltered as he reached out to run his hand over her head, smoothing down her ponytail. She didn't deserve him, she didn't understand how she got so lucky to be standing in his kitchen with him. She didn't understand any of it, how it was so good, too good. How she hadn't fucked it up yet. She felt as though every good day that passed, the inevitable fall got worse and worse. Like that earthquake. The Big One. Each day with no earthquake, pressure is added to the fault lines. And it felt imminent.

Taylor wasn't sure whether the best strategy to thwart the tears in her eyes was to blink really fast, or not at all.

"Please," Travis' voice cracked, his hand still stroking her hair. "Talk to me. I'm begging."

Taylor swallowed, her throat tightening. Neither of them were stupid. He knew something was wrong, she knew she wasn't great at hiding it. But any time Travis asked her if she was alright, she played it off and he let it go. Until now.

The pain in his face was too much to stay silent, but what was she supposed to say? I love you so much and I'm terrified you'll leave me even though you've done nothing to suggest you'd do that? She knew she should speak, just say anything. He'd be happy with the smallest look into her mind right now. But she was silent for a reason, she was intentional in trying to not be more of a burden than she already was. She felt like she couldn't breathe, all her energy went into trying not to cry.

"I..." Taylor started, having no clue how to continue. Her voice came out as a whisper, shaky and weak.

Travis was so still, as if she was a deer he didn't want to scare off.

"I'm fine," Taylor finished, her voice unstable, tears falling from her eyes.

Travis shook his head softly, the worry on his face heavy. He pulled Taylor into a hug, she immediately buried her face into his chest.

"I'm scared, Tay," Travis' voice was thick and low. "Do I need to be scared?"

"No," Taylor sobbed guiltily, shaking her head against him. "I'm so sorry." For all the praise she gets for her storytelling, sometimes she can't communicate for shit. And she hates herself for it. But while it was stupid, it also made sense to her. She felt like she was in between a rock and a hard place, and staying silent was a whole lot easier than actively communicating to Travis.

"I just want to help you. Why won't you let me?"

"You don't need to," Taylor found her voice, pulling away from his hold. She took a deep breath. "I'm fine," she said, knowing how silly it sounded.

When he didn't offer more than a deep sigh, Taylor continued. "I'm sorry, I know that..." she gestured feebly, "... seemed unfine..." Taylor grimaced. "But you don't need to worry. I promise," she smiled weakly.

Travis shook his head in disbelief. "Taylor, I can't keep doing this."

Taylor felt the blood empty from her face. Her forehead turned ice cold, though her body burnt. "What?" she managed to ask. She could hear her heartbeat roaring past her ears, her throat dry and a tight feeling holding her lungs.

Travis' eyes widened. "Not, not this! Not us! Oh, Tay, come here."

Travis pulled her in again. She inhaled deeply once realising he wasn't breaking up with her. She could still feel her heart beating insanely fast, and was almost certain he could feel it too as he pressed her up against him and rubbed her back.

"I'm so sorry baby, I didn't mean to scare you. I love you so much."

Taylor nodded, "Okay," she said quietly, her pulse slowing down as she focused on her breathing.

"I meant I can't keep doing this. Knowing you're not okay but not knowing why. Just tell me what's going on in that beautiful mind. You don't need to say it all. But just giving me something to work with. I hate not knowing." Travis loosened the grip on her so that he could see her face, but she looked at the floor.

Travis gave time for Taylor to think, and then to speak. She swallowed. She knew she had to say something. She couldn't stay silent now.

"I... I can't."

Travis remained quiet, waiting for more. But when it was clear that's all she was giving him, he pushed for more. "Can't what?"

Taylor sighed, and looked up at him "I just, I can't."

"Taylor, I don't know what you mean," he whispered.

She nodded. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"For me! I don't know!"

"What?"

Taylor almost spoke, but caught herself. Her face flushed pink, realising she'd already said more than she wanted to.

"I don't know, nevermind."

Travis felt her pull away, both literally and metaphorically. He felt bereft, as if a chill passed through the room.

"I need to pee," she said abruptly. She glanced at the oven. "Shit! The cupcakes!" She looked at him worriedly. "Can you, uh," she gestured to the oven. All he could do was nod. "Great, thanks," she smiled sweetly, moving around him to make her way to the bathroom. It was as if suddenly she couldn't stand being in the same room as him.

Chapter Text

Present day...

Taylor recalls, at one point in her childhood, learning why lying was never a good idea. She remembers a snowball metaphor. A lie may begin very small, seemingly insignificant, but as you maintain the lie it becomes bigger, more stressful and unmanageable. So you should never lie in the first place, to avoid this snowball (among other, ethical-related, reasons).

This is how her life felt. Like one, massive, uncontrollable snowball. Although, she maintained the belief that she wasn't lying. Travis knew she wasn't okay.

5 months ago...

For about a month after The Cupcake Incident (, that's what she called it in her mind), Taylor was all smiles around Travis. Mostly, it came naturally. Travis would always make her happy, regardless of how she's doing mentally. It's only when she had moments to herself, where her mind would run wild, and she'd begin to feel that suffocating sensation creep back towards her. So, during these moments, she'd do one of two things. Either she'd force it down, focus on what was real, Travis loved her and she loved him. Or, when that felt impossible, she'd run away. She found solace in her instruments. Coping disguised as working, was how she thought of it. She could tell that Travis was becoming less worried. And she felt like she was becoming less worried. It was manageable, at least, until it wasn't.

3 months ago...

Taylor had never slept amazingly. For many stretches in her life, her nights had been plagued by nightmares, resulting in Taylor often avoiding sleep in fear of waking up struggling to breathe, covered in sweat, and sometimes screaming. However, she'd also experienced the opposite; lying in silence for hours each night, desperate but unable to fall asleep. And this is what was happening again.

Travis definitely noticed, but she wasn't sure to what extent. It wasn't a new thing in their relationship, for him to wake up in an empty bed, but it was noticeably beginning to happen more.

"Taylor?" Travis had asked down the hallway one night.

"I'm in here," Taylor spoke as he approached the living room.

"Hey baby girl, why are you up? It's almost two."

"I never fell asleep," Taylor pouted, which turned into a wide smile as he leaned over the back of the couch to kiss her. She moaned into his mouth, and whined when he pulled away.

"You're going to be tired tomorrow," Travis said, stroking her cheek fondly with the back of his fingers.

Taylor shrugged, smiling, "I'll be fine. Why are you awake?"

"I guess I missed you in my sleep," Travis grinned, earning a giggle from Taylor. "Why don't you come back to bed, baby, try to get some proper rest."

"Okayyy, help me up."

"Yes madam," Travis playfully bowed, holding out his hand.

She fell asleep, eventually, after two hours of alternating between staring at Travis' sleeping face, and the ceiling.

-

It only got worse, the streak of awful sleeps stretching on and on, with no end in sight. After a while of no midnight talks, Taylor thought Travis had grown accustomed to sleeping without her and had stopped waking up. She was lying on the grass outside, staring up at the night. Clouds enveloped the sky, so Taylor was occupying her mind by imagining the stars. She was trying to remember constellations when she heard the back door slide open, and footsteps pad across the deck.

"Taylor, what are you doing?" His voice was more confused than concerned, which was a change Taylor appreciated.

"Can't sleep." The answer felt so rehearsed at this point.

"Why are you outside?"

"I got bored of the living room."

"There are other rooms in this house."

Taylor smiled at that, turning her head to finally look at Travis. He smiled back at her, walking over and joining her on the ground. He sat near her, "Lift your head for a sec," he whispered. She did so, and he shuffled under so that her head was now on his lap. She looked up at him, she could only barely make out the shape of his eyes in the limited light. She imagined stars in his eyes.

"I love you," Taylor spoke.

"I love you, baby," Travis replied.

Taylor hated herself. This felt like the closest they'd been in the past month. There was something about the darkness and quiet of the night that made life feel less demanding and more relaxing, and sharing this feeling with someone felt so intimate. Of course, they still talked in the daytime. They laughed, they went out, they had mind blowing sex in the evenings. They were as touchy as usual, if not more. But every time Travis pulled her body into his for a hug, she could feel his desperation. She knew he was confused. She seemed fine during the day, mostly just tired. It was the nights that worried him. She had assured him that it was okay, she was used to it and that she was getting enough sleep, but he was never convinced. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to help.

Travis often asked Taylor how she was, and if she knew why she was having so much trouble sleeping, but she never allowed the conversation to go any further. She felt awful for it, but her instant response was always to just shut down. And every single time this happened, Taylor felt a divide between them. She was in genuine disbelief that Travis hadn't left her. He never yelled, the most that happened was he'd get frustrated with her lack of explanation. It was much worse when he'd get sad, and express his worry for her. Taylor's least favourite sentence, I'm worried about you, she began to hear a lot. She tried her best to reassure, but it had become futile.

"It's 4am," Travis spoke. Taylor remained silent. "Did you manage to fall asleep at all? Or have you been awake this whole night?"

Taylor didn't reply, which was a reply in itself. "Baby, I'm going to ask you to listen to me for a moment. Just let me talk," Travis pleaded softly.

Taylor swallowed, took a deep breath and nodded, staring into his eyes.

"This amount of sleep is not good for you. I'm worr-" he caught himself, "I'm concerned about you," he said with a slight smile. She smiled back. Once again, the night time calmed her. She would not be so relaxed had he tried to talk about this 12 hours ago. "I would feel a lot better about your health if you were at least sleeping in after all these late nights, but even when you wake up at 9 or 10 that's still, what... 5 hours of sleep? And those are just the nights that I know of. It kills me that I only know you can't sleep because I wake up sometimes. I wish you'd tell me when you-"

He cut himself off. Taylor felt the familiar pang of guilt. "Sorry. I'm getting off topic," Travis sighed. "I'm not trying to berate you, or treat you like a child at all. I know you know that the amount you're sleeping is not healthy. I know you must feel it. I just don't," he sighed heavily again. "It doesn't seem like you care."

After some silence, Taylor was surprised he didn't continue. "Care about what? You? I love you so much Travis. I'm really sorry if I don't show that enough."

"No, I know that. I love you," another sigh. He looked away from her steady stare, now facing the house. "Do you," he hesitated. "This sounds bad, but I don't know how else to word it. Do you care about yourself? About your health? Your sleep?"

Travis looked back down at Taylor to see her frown. It was eerily quiet. This conversation didn't feel real.

"Of course I do."

Travis nodded, "Okay, okay good." It was quiet once again. He looked away again, and Taylor took the opportunity to close her eyes. She could tell he wanted to say more. "It's just... I'm not calling you a liar, god that sounds bad," he chuckled slightly, "It just doesn't really seem like you do care."

"Okay..." Taylor was too tired to care about this conversation. She'd been awake for 20 hours, and was feeling it.

"You just, I mean, maybe you are and you just aren't telling me about it, so tell me if I'm wrong," he took a breath, "but you just don't seem to be putting any effort into figuring out why you're sleeping so badly, or trying to fix it. Oh god, Tay, that sounds bad. I didn't mean you don't put any effort, I just-" he paused. "Are you listening?"

She could hear that he was looking at her now. She nodded, not bothering to open her eyes.

Travis sighed again, so heavily this time. "I love you, a lot. I sound like a broken record, I'm sure, but I can't help but worry about you. I don't know how much you're keeping from me. I can't help but feel like your sleep problems might be a physical impact of whatever's going on in your head. I want to understand you, Taylor."

Taylor opened her eyes. His eyes were shining. She didn't need to imagine stars. Her heart broke.

"I don't understand me," she said softly. Travis' face froze, like he was in disbelief that she was talking. Fuck it, she thought. She had no idea why she was so withholding. This was her boyfriend. Why was she hiding away so much when he was practically begging her to speak to him every day?

"Something's wrong," she continued talking. The intensity in his gaze was too much, and she closed her eyes. "Well, not something. A lot of things. I don't know what to say to you. I just- my brain is too much. All the time. And at the same time, I feel like I'm missing a chunk of my brain. Like something's wrong up there."

"I... don't get it," Travis whispered.

"Exactly," Taylor lifted and dropped her hands from her legs. "I can't explain it. I don't know what to say," she huffed. Getting exasperated. She had finally decided to talk and she already deeply regretted it. "Look, I just... I've gone through periods in my life like this," she hesitated, "like, depression, or anxiety or whatever," she said quietly. "And I guess it's back, but I'll manage. It's fine. This is nothing compared to how bad it was in 2020. The sleeping thing - yeah I'm tired. This is probably the worst it's been. But it always sorts itself out. Nothing is permanent, or whatever."

Travis was silent. She knew she was jumping all over the place, he was probably trying so hard to make sense of what she was saying.

He surprised her by speaking, "Have I been doing something wrong?"

Her eyes snapped open. She should've known he'd blame himself, this is exactly why she hadn't told him anything until now. Taylor sat up, and turned to face him. Suddenly, the night lost all its magic and she felt a lump in her throat, as well as burning behind her eyes,

"No, Travis, please know that you haven't done a single thing wrong. You are perfect. You have been perfect. I'm sorry that I-" her voice broke. "God!" she yelled, burying her face in her palm as tears escaped her eyes. She felt his hand on her shoulder, and shied away. She looked at him. "I'm sorry, just let me explain this, please." Travis nodded.

"Travis, there's nothing you can do. Well, anything you can do, you're doing it already. Every day. Just by being who you are, by loving me. You might not realise it but I don't know how I'd survive without you. It's not your fault. My head is just fucked up, I promise."

"Okay," he whispered.

"I'm," Taylor sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I'm really tired," she offered him a wobbly smile, which he adoringly returned. "Can we just go to bed?"

Travis nodded, his eyes trained on hers.

"I'll be okay," she whispered.

"You promise?" he whispered back, reaching over tentatively to run his fingers over her leg.

They watched each other for a moment. It would be so easy to nod, or say yes. But she couldn't promise that. And he knew it, too. She stood up, taking his hand to bring him back inside.

That night, for the first time in weeks, Taylor fell asleep before Travis. He laid on the bed, watching her, replaying their conversation over and over in his head, trying to make sense of it. Trying to figure out how worried he should be.

Chapter Text

Present day...

Hearing Travis approach the door, Taylor quickly reached her arm out from under her pillow to quickly grab the book from her bedside table. She'd rather he think she was reading in here, rather than the reality, which was wasting away in bed at 3pm doing absolutely nothing.

"Hey baby," he said once he'd opened the door, as he walked to the side of the bed and perched on the side.

"Hey," Taylor smiled, looking up from her book.

"What you up to?" he asked casually.

"Just reading," her eyes flitted to the open book in her hands.

"Mmm," Travis nodded. "Hey, so, I wanted to just talk to you about something," he started apprehensively. Taylor nodded. "So, I was researching depression-"

Taylor clicked her tongue and put her book down, "I'm fine, Travis."

"You're not!" He shot back, silencing Taylor. "You're- you're not."

As tension seeped into the room, filling the quiet, he continued. "I was researching depression, and I think I found a few things we can try, okay? Please just be open-minded about this. This is all to help you, remember that." He paused and pulled out his phone. He wrote a fucking list. "Okay so, initially I thought this was bullshit but I realised of course it works, exercise! We don't have to, like, do anything crazy. Even just a small walk around, like the backyard, even. Or we could go to the gym room and mess around in there, I don't know, whatever you want to do, really. What do you think? If you don't want to, that's fine, there are a few other ideas."

Taylor tried to steadily inhale as her eyes filled with tears. He made a list of ways to help her.

"Baby," he scooted closer, bringing his hand to the side of her face. "Why are you crying? Are you okay?"

Tears streamed across her face, she turned her head to bury herself in her pillow. His hand moved to the back of her head.

"Taylor," he whispered.

But she just cried. She couldn't believe how much he loved her. For the past couple months, she'd been the worst girlfriend anyone could ever imagine. Only sleeping during the day, always in a bad mood, barely helping out around the house, just completely isolating herself from not only everyone else, but Travis too. And what was his response? Approaching it with such an unbelievable amount of adoration and kindness that she couldn't even fathom. He put in all this effort and she, for some reason, couldn't return any of it for him.

Travis reached over and pulled her up so that she was sitting and he could hug her. "Shh, you're okay Tay," he comforted. He rested his chin on top of her head, stroking her back and squeezing her slightly. "You're okay. I love you."

"I'm sorry," Taylor sniffed. "I'm just tired and haven't cried in a little while, I'm sorry."

"You have to stop apologising for crying," Travis released her slightly to look at her face.

Taylor sighed and shook her head slightly, she was apologising for so much more than crying.

"Do you want to talk? About that?"

Taylor shook her head again. Travis looked like he was considering challenging her, but ultimately he must've known it wasn't the time.

"You didn't come down for lunch, so how do you feel about me making something and bringing it up here? I ate, but I can have some more so we can eat together. We can watch Greys, maybe?"

"Mmm, thanks for offering but I'm not hungry. I actually feel slightly nauseous," Taylor grimaced, wiping under her eyes and lying back down.

Travis went quiet for a moment, his face so sad. "One of the ways to help depression is making small goals for yourself. How about we make it a goal that you eat a full lunch and dinner today?"

Taylor watched as he waited, so hopeful for her answer. "I think I might play some guitar, or something."

Travis' face lit up at that, "Have you been writing?"

"Not really," she said. His face fell slightly. She hadn't had any motivation recently, and felt like she lost any creativity she usually harboured.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd been making music at all."

"I haven't. I was just going to play some old stuff," she glanced down at her fingertips, "I'm starting to lose my callouses."

"But Tay-"

"I don't have to be making music all the time."

"I know, but you love it."

"I guess I just don't see the point anymore."

"The point in what?" He looked at her, now, concerned. This has happened a few times. They'd be having a conversation, and Taylor would say something, not thinking twice until Travis reacted.

"I don't know," she said, her stomach turning.

"Uh," Travis glanced at his phone, nervous. She hated how often he was nervous to talk to her. He shouldn't feel uncomfortable having a casual conversation with his girlfriend. "Um, have you thought about giving therapy a chance?"

Nevermind. Taylor sank further into the bed, "Don't piss me off, Travis."

"Well can you really blame me? Look at yourself!"

"Excuse me?"

"What are you doing, Taylor?" Travis asked, desperation bleeding into his tone. "You lie in bed all day, god knows what you do at night but you're definitely not sleeping! You don't make music anymore, Tay. That's what you've always done. You're Taylor Swift!"

Taylor's stomach lurched and she sat up, struggling to push the duvet off her legs as she didn't realise Travis sitting there was unintentionally pinning it down. She gagged, her heart beating fast as she still couldn't break free from the duvet. She took a deep breath, "Travis," she yelled, her voice shaking. All the while, Travis stared with wide eyes, not knowing she was 10 seconds away from throwing up. He stood up and she finally threw the duvet off. She leapt out of bed, immediately getting dizzy. Travis stood paralysed, watching her almost walk into the wall as she continued trying to make her way to the bathroom. Eventually, he brought himself out of it and ran over to hold her upright, and he finally realised what was happening when she gagged again.

5 minutes later, Taylor sat on the closed toilet seat with dried tears on her cheeks as she watched Travis clean up her vomit from the floor of the bathroom doorway.

"I told you I felt sick," she spoke, hating the silence and feeling incredibly guilty. Travis had insisted she let him clean up and made her sit down. He looked up at her, sending a small smile to assure her he wasn't mad. She couldn't smile back. Surely, he would break up with her any day now.

-

Later on, long after the sun had set and Travis had gone to bed, Taylor walked into her music room and delicately picked up her guitar. She sat on the floor, leaning against the couch and held the guitar across her body. She looked at it, examined it almost. Brushing her fingers over the frets, she reminisced on a time where this genuinely excited her. It wasn't even that long ago. Now, she felt no connection. She didn't know how she let that happen. There wasn't any reasoning for her to feel this way, to be hurting so much every day. Nothing catastrophic happened to her. But somehow, over the course of a few months, she went from being Taylor Swift to merely resembling a shell of herself, with no excuse for it.

Discarding the guitar on the ground, she stood up and wandered out into the hallway. After ending up in the kitchen, Taylor opened the fridge. She hadn't eaten an actual meal since... too long ago. After throwing up all over the floor earlier, she told Travis she must've eaten something bad. She knew that wasn't true, it was from anxiety. But somehow that felt too embarrassing to admit to. After carrying her back to bed, he brought her some food in an attempt to soothe her stomach, so she had some crackers and an apple.

Taylor closed the fridge and her eyes drifted along the bench, landing on the knife block. She found herself reaching forward and slowly taking one of the bigger knives. One for slicing meat, or something. Taylor giggled, covering her lips with her hand. She felt ridiculously dramatic, like she was in a movie. But as she stood there in the kitchen, holding this knife, she realised she could do anything in this moment. Taylor shook her head just in case someone was watching her and could read her thoughts. To let them know she knew how ridiculous it sounded. But she couldn't tear her eyes away from the knife. She felt incredibly in control at this moment. She wiggled her toes, watching them move in her peripheral. Her brain controlled every part of her body. One movement and... it would all be over.

Travis. She imagined Travis coming downstairs in the morning, searching for her. He'd first notice that she never made it to bed. That happens more often than not these days. Then he'd check the couch. Sometimes she ended up falling asleep there in the early hours of the morning. Eventually, he'd walk into the kitchen. Maybe he'd smell it before he got there. Taylor imagined him seeing the blood, and then seeing her dead body sprawled across the floor, the knife somewhere near.

Taylor blinked and tears shot out of her eyes, and her body shook with sudden heaving sobs that hurt her abdomen. She caught herself on the bench as she stumbled, and released the knife from her hand in a panic, watching as it fell to the floor with a loud clang. She clapped her hand to her mouth as she sank to the floor, desperately trying to avoid waking up her boyfriend.

Travis must be exhausted, dealing with her like this for months at this point. She couldn't imagine how hard this was on him. And now, she had found herself seriously considering stabbing herself, right there in the middle of their kitchen while he slept, just one floor above. She would've laughed at the absurdity again if she wasn't absolutely bawling. Why hadn't he broken up with her yet? Would he feel guilty? The thought of Taylor accidentally manipulating him into staying with her made her gag inbetween her sobs.

She reached up, gripping hard on the bench to stand up. She made her way to the sink and turned on the water, shoving her head under the tap so that ice cold water was running onto and off her face. After a few seconds, Taylor turned off the tap and pulled her head from the sink.

Water droplets dripped off her chin onto her toes as Taylor sucked in big breaths and gulped. Swiping her hand across her face, she strode to the bedroom before she could stop herself.

Standing above him, she took in the sight. This would be the last time she'd get the chance. He was sleeping on his side, breathing slow and even. He looked so peaceful. She had to fight herself from doing what she really wanted, which was to lie down next to him and envelop herself in his warmth. Maybe she shouldn't do what she was about to do. But it was for his own good, she told herself.

"Travis," she whispered, poking his arm gently.

"Hm?" Travis murmured groggily, running his hand over his face and opening his eyes. He looked at her. "Tay?"

Taylor swallowed, hard. "You need to leave," she blurted.

Travis blinked, squeezing his eyes together. "What? What's going on?"

"I want you to leave."

"Why? Taylor what happened?" Travis asked, becoming more aware and sitting up. He turned on the lamp next to the bed, and glanced around the room before looking at Taylor. "Taylor, baby, what happened?" His voice took on a new tone, having realised she had been crying.

"Nothing, nothing happened. I just, um," Taylor realised she did not think this through, at all. "I'm breaking up with you," she blurted.

Travis frowned, no doubt incredibly confused. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

"Nothing happened!" Taylor answered, getting frustrated. "If you don't want to leave I will. I'll... find a hotel or something. So, just let me know because I don't want to wait any longer."

"Taylor, what the fuck?"

She bit her lip, "What's so hard to understand?"

Travis gaped in disbelief. "Maybe why you've woken me up to break up with me? Just talk to me, what happened, what did I do?"

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she huffed. "But don't act like I'm not doing you a favour."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Are you drunk?"

"I fucking wish. Come on, Travis. I'm saving you from this relationship. Stop denying it."

"Taylor, I'm not going anywhere until you explain what the hell happened. Seriously, did you take anything?" Travis stood up now, and held Taylor by the shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes.

"No I didn't take anything! And I'm not drunk!" She took a step back. "Oh my god, whatever. We're broken up, by the way. I think you missed that. I just broke up with you."

"Why!" Travis yelled.

"I'm doing this FOR you! I know you want to break up with me but you think you can't! Otherwise you would've done this weeks ago."

"You don't know anything, Taylor! You're making shit up in your head!"

"Okay, yeah, sure," she scoffed, turning around. "I'm leaving. We can talk in the morning, or something. Make arrangements for like, all my stuff here and... all that."

"Taylor!" Travis yelled, reaching out to grab her wrist.

"Don't touch me," Taylor scolded, pulling back from him but not moving.

"You can't leave. Let's talk about this," Travis said, worry swimming in his eyes.

"I don't want to talk. I don't get why you're fighting this."

"I love you, Taylor. More than I've ever loved anyone. Please, don't do this. Please," a tear fell down Travis' face.

Taylor's throat bobbed. "Exactly. You love me. Which is why you won't do this, why I have to do it for you. I'm sorry it took this long. I can't imagine the strain I'm putting on you. You don't deserve this, at all," her voice broke and she looked down.

"Taylor, I can't even express how wrong you are. I want to help you. That's all I want."

Taylor sighed, feeling ill. "Once again, that's exactly my point. Please don't bullshit me, Travis. You can't tell me this relationship is healthy for you. It might've started good, but I've ruined it..." she trailed off in a whisper.

Travis was quiet for a moment. "Don't go," he implored when her eyes met his.

"I'm trying to make this easier for you," Taylor whispered, holding back her tears.

"This can't possibly be easier," Travis said with a sad chuckle.

"You don't know everything, Trav..."

"Then tell me! Talk to me!" Travis said, desperation crawling back in his voice.

Taylor shook her head, ashamed.

"Can you at least tell me why you won't talk to me?"

"I'm trying to protect you," Taylor said, taking a hold of his hand.

"From what?" Travis breathed.

Taylor didn't know how to say it less dramatically. "Myself."

Travis silently urged her to continue, squeezing her hand slightly.

"I know you have faith that I'll get better. But I can't express how much it feels like there's no chance of that happening. And I'm scared that-" Taylor tilted her head down. Travis leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I'm scared that I'll do something that will hurt you. Like, beyond repair."

"No..." Travis mumbled, his voice rough.

Taylor nodded. "It's mostly been, you know, passive. Just kinda, thinking about how much easier everything would be if I didn't exist. But it's getting worse, and I don't know what will happen, but just in case-"

"Stop," Travis cut her off. He held her head in his hands, looking her in the eye. "I won't let anything happen."

"It shouldn't be your responsibility," Taylor cried. "That's not fair to you."

Travis didn't have a reply, knowing she was right. His face twitched, the weight of her words setting in as he speechlessly watched her cry softly in front of him.

"Please don't kill yourself," he pleaded. His chest ached. He would do anything to take her pain. He slowly guided her into a hug, and held her as tight as he could manage without hurting her. The more he thought, the more his lungs seemed to shrink until he released a sob into her hair. They stood by the doorway of the bedroom, crying together.

Chapter Text

Taylor sat on her piano stool, staring at the keys and counting back and forth from C to C. She took a deep breath, then another, then another, then her chest squeezed tight and she let out a soft whimper as tears welled in her eyes. She flinched slightly at the sound of her phone receiving a notification.

Final security check was all clear. Police and media are gone, the regular guys will be in their places if you need anything. Tomorrow we will be sent information on when you can go in to give your formal statement. Sleep well.

She sent back a brief thanks and put the phone down with a shaky hand. She went back to counting piano keys, shaking her head at her own futile effort to calm down. The risk was gone. The panic was over. Her head knew this, but her body was stuck behind. She picked up her phone once again, slowly this time. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. But she really wanted to.

She thought he might not answer, but on the fifth ring, her heart stopped.

“... Taylor?”

She tried not to sob at the sound of his voice. It took her a moment to gather herself. “Travis… hi…” she scrunched her eyes closed. “Did I wake you? I definitely woke you. I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice soft. “I could use an early start. What’s wrong?”

It’s not that Taylor hadn’t spoken to Travis in two years. Communication resumed about a year ago, though rare and often trivial. The new album is great! from him and Congrats on another Superbowl! from her. But something about hearing him now, so caring and kind, brought a rush of nostalgic feelings to Taylor.

Taylor swallowed. “Um… I just…” she tried to force her voice to not shake. “Someone broke in tonight.”

“What?” Travis exclaimed, his voice still soft but laced with urgency. “Into your house?”

Taylor nodded. “Yeah… my New York apartment. You’ll probably see articles tomorrow, ah… I heard him from my room and locked the door and called the police and stuff and…”

“Oh my god, Taylor, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Taylor sniffled. “I just… I can’t calm down. The police left, and it’s just me now, and I’m so tired but I’m so unsettled I just… I don’t feel safe.”

“Tay, slow down. It’s okay. You might be in shock,” Taylor heard rustling, probably Travis sitting up in bed.

“No… I just… I feel stuck in this perpetual panic. I don’t know.”

“Okay, that’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m doing the breathing techniques, I sat at the piano. But I still feel so… panicky. I could ring someone else but…” She had to swallow hard. “The only person I wanted to talk to is you. I’m so sorry.”

“Taylor.” Travis’ voice was so soft. So lovely. “Why are you sorry? This is okay. It would always be okay.”

“Thank you,” her voice shook. “It’s just so… Can you talk to me for a while? Until I feel slightly less… scared?”

“Of course. Is there anything that might help? Anything specific I can do?”

He could be saying anything, Taylor realised, and just the way he spoke would soothe her. “I don’t… I don’t know,” she replied, breathing easier.

“What about we go through the facts? Security will be more alert than ever, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Taylor ran her hand through her hair and glanced in the direction of her front door. “Apparently a door downstairs jammed and then he… I don’t remember… I don’t want to think about it.”

“That’s fine. What about a happy memory? Something that takes you back somewhere where you felt at peace.”

“Felt at peace,” Taylor whispered, closing her eyes. “Uh,” she sighed, thinking. “I guess… one year, it was late November. We had just opened the farm, and I was, well… distraught. There was this one tree I formed some strange attachment to,” she laughed. “And I was so sad because I knew some family was going to come and chop it down and take it. But I wanted that tree. So, one night, before it was bought, my Mom brought me out to the farm and took me to my tree. We bundled together with blankets and she told me we were going to bid the tree farewell. She gave me the opportunity to say a real goodbye. It was just us and my tree. I felt peaceful.”

Taylor took several long breaths. On the other end of the line, Travis was silent, and Taylor was too aware of the implications of her story. The ache of how things ended settled deep in her stomach, an ache that hadn’t felt so intense in a while.

“Alright, that’s good. You’re doing so good Tay. Any other memories? Places? People? Who made you feel that?”

“Travis.” Her voice broke. “I felt like that with you.”

To Travis’ credit, he only paused for one second too long. “Okay. When specifically?”

“Kind of…” Taylor gulped. “All of the time.”

“Okay,” he was thoughtful. “Okay.” Then, “So why don’t I come and see you?”

“... What do you mean?”

“I mean, get on a plane and come to your apartment and, you know, see you?”

After a long silence, Taylor asked, “When?”

“Now. Well, as soon as I can catch a flight.”

“Are you… is this a joke?”

“Not a joke.”

“What about… aren’t you busy?”

“Not if you need me.”

Taylor’s heart seized. “Would you really do that?”

“I really would.”

From the early hours of the morning until noon, Taylor launched herself into a frantic deep clean. She never expected Travis to ever be back here, and was confronted with the absolute state of her apartment since the police had been in to collect evidence. There was no time to hire a cleaner, so she vacuumed, mopped, and scrubbed the floors. She hurried around with a duster, and with disinfectant and a cloth, until she collapsed on the couch.

Taylor woke up bleary eyed an hour later and checked her phone, her eyes widening at a text from Travis that he’d landed 20 minutes ago. She leapt up and ran to her bathroom in an attempt to look somewhat presentable, but soon enough she was notified of his arrival.

As soon as she opened the front door, Taylor pulled Travis into the hall, patting his shoulders and running her hands down his jacket, having to convince herself that he was real.

“You’re really here,” she told him, mesmerised.

“I’m really here,” he dropped his bag.

“You’ve come all this way.”

“I’ve come all this way,” he opened up his body slightly, so slightly, but enough for Taylor to receive the invitation. She wrapped her arms around him and he immediately enveloped her, their bodies fitting against each other perfectly, as if there was no time apart.

Taylor shuddered. There were a million things she wanted to say but she couldn’t focus on anything other than the sensation of being in his arms again.

“You’re safe,” he whispered into the top of her head. Taylor closed her eyes and melted with those words.

Travis stepped out of the hug first, still holding her close. Taking her face in his hands, he moved his thumbs across the lilac circles under her eyes. “Have you slept?”

Taylor nodded, “A little.”

“Not enough.” Travis let his hand fall to hers, and Taylor let him guide her to bed.

Up in the room they once shared, Taylor watched Travis approach the cat lying on her bed. “Benji, my man! You're taking care of your momma, yeah?” He sat down on the bed to pat him, and looked up at Taylor. “I heard about Mer. I’m so sorry, Tay.”

Taylor’s heart clenched at the memory of her late cat, and her eyes stung. But after a beat, her face twitched, and she frowned, confused. “How did you hear about that?”

Travis went quiet. He looked down at the cat, as if for reassurance, then back up at her. “I’m going to tell you something now and you might be… This is creepy. Stalkery. I’m sorry. But I asked Aric to keep an eye on you.”

“Keep an eye?”

He took a deep breath. “Even at my most hurt, I never stopped wanting you to be okay.”

Taylor just stared, her blood rushing past her ears.

“Look, I needed to know you were okay. Still alive, and that you’d stay alive. There’s only so much I could get from the internet. I know you, I know you’d appear okay no matter what to the public. I needed more. Not small details, just somewhere in between that and what the media knew.”

Taylor’s mind swirled with many emotions - and an abundance of relief. He’d still cared? All this time?

Taylor moved towards the bed and tentatively sat next to him. “How did Aric…”

Travis grimaced. “Ah… Ashley, mostly.”

Taylor sighed. “Well, she’d have a job of it.” For a moment, she was back there in those months after Travis left. The weeks on end of barely talking to a single soul, the several embarrassing intervention-esque visits from her closest friends. The-

“Was it… was it me?” Travis whispered.

Taylor blinded and turned her head to him. “What?”

“You…” he sighed, distraught. “It was so bad. I know you know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I shouldn’t be saying this. But it was so bad. And then, after I left-”

“After I kicked you out,” Taylor interrupted dryly.

But Travis was too occupied by what he was thinking now. “You seemed… fixed. Ashley said you suddenly started going places, doing things. I saw paparazzi pictures of you. You looked good, happy. And I can’t tell you how relieved I was. But when I asked, Aric told me Ashley didn’t know why. Was it… was it because of me? Was I the reason it was so bad?”

Taylor frowned, and spoke slowly. “Travis… no. I told you so many times, you know this.”

He shook his head, “I know, I know. But then… How did you get better?”

“I…” Taylor swallowed. “It doesn’t matter.”

Taylor made to get up, but Travis was quick to grab ahold of her hand. She cast her eyes over their hands, then to his eyes. “Taylor,” Travis pleaded.

She opened and closed her mouth numerous times. “I did something stupid,” she settled on. “It resulted in my mom stepping in and kind of forcing me to get help,” Taylor shrugged. “It worked.”

She thought Travis looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he only let go of her hand and said, “I’m glad.”

Taylor looked into his eyes and nodded.

Travis snapped out of their shared trance first. “You need to get some sleep,” he smiled, ruffling her hair affectionately. Taylor blushed, then immediately hid her face from him. He stood up and adjusted his jacket, suddenly very unsure about what to do. “Would you like me to… stay with you?”

Taylor could collapse with relief. YES! “If you want… I mean, just for a little while? Then you can make yourself at home, just… do whatever. I don’t mind.”

Travis pulled back the duvet for her after turning around as she got changed. Their entire existence together was a muddle of familiarity with awkwardness, both of them anxious about letting anything go too far.

Travis sat up against the headboard and watched her lay her head on her pillow. “How are you feeling right now?” he whispered.

Taylor lifted her gaze to him. “I feel…” she sighed, contemplative. “Serene.”

Travis smiled, and Taylor wondered if she was seeing pity in his gaze. “Close your eyes,” he said. Taylor obeyed. Not long after, she felt his fingertips grace her upper arm the way he always used to do. Sure enough, it put her to sleep.