You'll Be Alright - Taylor Swift

Part 4

Taylor's POV

Lucky for me, Axle, who is my driver while in the UK, asks no questions.

So when I turn up four hours early with Ryan in my arms, he doesn't blink an eye, just simply opens the door for me so that I can slide in before he goes around to the driver's seat—silently waiting for me to tell him where to go.

"Can you take us to the nearest private hospital, please? Unless it's more than thirty minutes away, in that case, just take us to the nearest emergency room, please. Oh, and if you can go straight away, that would be great. She needs to be checked out as soon as possible," I ask, keeping my voice steady, hoping that it doesn't startle the suspiciously calm child in my arms.

Axle just nods before driving away.

Only when he pulls out of the stadium do I notice Greg running after the car, my Mom, Dad and Tree a few yards behind them. Too slow; I am swift as fuck, after all.

Relaxing slightly now that I know I won't have to part with Ryan to perform, I sink slightly into my seat, smiling when Ryan practically melts into me as I shift. My smile only increases when I notice she is fast asleep.

Poor thing has had a very emotional three hours. Not to mention, I shudder to think what she has been through before getting here. If the state she is currently in is any indication, whatever she has been through is enough to haunt her for the rest of her life.

"What's the name of the hospital we are going to, Axle? I want to call ahead. The sooner she gets seen, the better. She is asleep now, but I know she's in pain," I break the silence, pulling my phone out of my pocket, glad I have at least that with me because that is the only thing I have brought other than Ryan.

"Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh Emergency Department, Miss Swift. We are about ten minutes out," Axle replies, which has me humming in acknowledgement. Something Ryan likes because she lets out the most adorable little sigh as her head moves slightly so that her head rests tightly against my chest, right above my heart, while sleeping.

Trying my best not to get lost in how adorable the child on my chest is, I focus on looking up the number for the emergency department before calling them and explaining everything the best I can, given the limited information I know, wanting to ensure that Ryan gets the help she needs as quickly as possible. It breaks my heart that she is in so much pain right now, and the sooner I can help her not be in pain, the better.

Before I know it, we are coming to a stop, and Axle is opening the door for me. "A hat and jumper, Miss Swift. People know you are in Scotland, and I am sure you are not ready for whatever this is to hit the Daily Mail just yet. I will accompany you both until Greg arrives," Axle mutters, making me murmur a soft thanks as I take the items. However, I am still determining how I'm going to get this jumper on without disturbing Ryan.

Screw it. I'd rather be cold than risk disturbing Ryan or jostling her and causing her even more pain.

Stuffing the jumper into Ryan's backpack for now, I slip on the cap before I make sure I still have a good grip on the seven-year-old before getting out of the car, thanking Axle again when he takes the backpack from me before leading the way into the hospital.

"We phoned ahead. The patient's name is Ryan Swift," Axle explains to the lady at the desk, which I am thankful for. The fewer people I talk to, the better. Once Ryan gets a doctor, I can relax because the fact that I am Ryan's mother will be under doctor-patient confidentiality, and they can't go selling the story, but until then, it is a bit of a worry.

After everything Ryan has gone through over the last seven years, the last thing she needs is to be thrown headfirst into my world and have everyone know she not only exists but also that she's being hospitalised on the same day I am getting her back.