A/N: Just to be clear, I don't think any of the rumours I've used in this fic are true. Most of them I haven't seen anyone saying.
T/W: Panic Attack
"Taylor! I'm home." Travis yells as he comes through the door.
No response comes. He listens out for signs of life, but the house is eerily silent. Maybe she's asleep. She was really tired when I left this morning. Travis looks in the music room he made for her, she has fallen asleep there before, but the lights are off. She's not in the living room. She's not in the kitchen. She's nowhere downstairs. He checks his phone in case she went out somewhere, but there's no notification. Please let her be upstairs. Travis is getting a bit worried now. He can usually find her very quickly when he comes home.
"Taylor? Are you up here?" Travis calls her again, walking up the stairs. Security didn't say anything happened. They would tell me if it did. They trust me enough with her now. There's nothing on the first floor to indicate where she is. No doors are shut that shouldn't be shut. The shower isn't running. There's no music playing. It's silent.
"Where are you baby?" Travis is getting desperate. It feels like there's a bowling ball in his stomach right now. Something's wrong. Even asleep, she's never this quiet. But this time, there's nothing. He starts to check each bedroom, coming up empty every time. He's contemplating calling security to help find her, he doesn't want to say she's missing, but he can't help thinking it.
Their bedroom is the last place to check, but it's just as still as the rest of the house. Everything is where is should be. So where is she? Travis turns on his heel to leave the room, already typing the numbers for security, when he finally hears her. It's the smallest, quietest little sniffle. But it's hers.
"Taylor?" The sniffle doesn't come again, so he knows he has to fully search the bedroom suite. Dropping his phone, he begins the search. There's no lump under the covers, and she's not on the floor under the bed. She's not in the bathroom, and there aren't actually many places to hide. The closet. The door is open, but there's still no sound.
"Taylor?" Please, please, please. He goes past the middle unit, and there she is. Curled in a ball on the floor. "Taylor? Baby, what's wrong?" Travis kneels down next to her, but she doesn't acknowledge him. There are tear stains on her face. Her hands are shaking.
There's no reason Travis can see for her to be on the floor like this. Now that he's finally close enough to hear her, he realises she's still sniffling. "Taylor? What's the matter?" He rests his hand on the side of her head, and doesn't miss how cold she is. Or how damp her skin is. Her entire body starts trembling under his touch and her breathing gets louder. And faster.
It suddenly clicks into place what's happening. Panic attack. His mind screams at him to help her. Taylor had told him that she had anxiety, but he hadn't realised how bad it could get. "Baby, I'm going to pick you up and move you to the bed, okay?" Travis wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, but it felt like it was. In one easy movement, he has her cradled in his arms.
He takes her into the bedroom, and gently places her on the bed. Her breathing hasn't slowed down. And she's still trembling. Travis almost starts panicking himself when she starts wheezing a little. Putting a hand on her back, he starts rubbing large circles, trying to help in any way he can think of.
"Try and follow my breathing baby." With his hand following his pattern, he breathes in and breathes out. "Take a breath. Slowly in. Slowly out. You can do it." He has no idea if his words are even reaching her. She's seems too far gone for them to have any kind of effect. How long was she like this before I got home?
