Taylor Swift one shots

Sick And Alone

Taylor lay curled up on her couch, a thick blanket wrapped around her despite the fact that she was already sweating from the fever. Her body ached, her throat felt like sandpaper, and her head was pounding with the kind of intensity that made it impossible to think straight. She'd caught the flu, and it hit her hard. The timing couldn't have been worse—she was supposed to be resting up between tour dates, but instead, she was fighting off the worst sickness she'd had in years.

Travis was away, playing in a big game, and she hadn't wanted to worry him. She knew how much football meant to him, and the last thing she wanted was for him to be distracted because she had a cold. Or, well, more than a cold. The flu had her in its grip, and she could barely move off the couch. Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, but it felt like a mile away.

She groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her limbs too heavy to do anything but lie there and stare at the ceiling. The only sound in the house was the distant hum of the heater, trying to keep the place warm, though she couldn't seem to get comfortable no matter what. One second, she was too hot, the next, she was freezing.

Her phone buzzed again, and with a great deal of effort, she managed to reach for it. She squinted at the screen, seeing a text from Travis pop up.

Travis: Hey, babe. Just finished warmups. Wish you could be here.

She smiled weakly, her fingers fumbling as she tried to type a reply.

Taylor: Wish I could be there too. Good luck tonight!

She debated whether to tell him about how sick she really was. But she knew he'd be worried, and the last thing she wanted was for him to have his head anywhere but on the game. He'd been looking forward to this matchup for weeks. So, she didn't mention the fever, the aching muscles, or the fact that she hadn't eaten much all day because she couldn't keep anything down.

She set the phone back down, closing her eyes as another wave of exhaustion hit her. The game would be starting soon, and part of her wanted to try to watch it, but even thinking about turning on the TV felt like too much effort. She sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, letting the fever wash over her.

A few hours passed in a haze of half-sleep, broken up by fits of coughing and shivering. She'd lost track of time entirely when her phone buzzed again, but this time, it wasn't a text.

It was a call.

Groaning, she picked it up, blinking against the brightness of the screen. Travis's name flashed on the display, and she immediately felt a wave of guilt. She hadn't been able to stay awake to watch his game.

"Hey," she rasped, her voice rougher than she'd expected.

"Taylor?" His voice was filled with concern. "You sound awful. What's going on?"

She winced, trying to sit up but failing miserably. "Oh, uh, I'm just... not feeling great. Just the flu, I think."

"You think?" Travis's voice dropped, clearly worried. "Why didn't you tell me? How long have you been sick?"

Taylor tried to shrug, though he couldn't see her. "It's fine. I didn't want to bother you before the game. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal," he said firmly. "You sound terrible. Do you have someone there with you?"

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the couch. "No, I've just been resting. It's fine, really. I'll sleep it off."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and she could practically hear him thinking. "I'm coming home."

Taylor's eyes flew open, her heart skipping a beat. "What? No, Travis, you can't. You just finished your game, and—"

"Babe, you're sick and alone. I'm not leaving you like that." His tone left no room for argument. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

She felt a surge of emotion at his words, but she also didn't want to be the reason he rushed back. "I'll be okay," she protested weakly. "I don't want you to worry about me."

"I *am* worried about you," he said softly. "And I want to be there. Please let me take care of you."

Taylor swallowed hard, her throat aching. Part of her wanted to insist he stay where he was, to tell him she didn't want to be a burden. But the truth was, she didn't want to be alone anymore. She was exhausted, miserable, and just the thought of him being there was enough to make her feel a little better.

"Okay," she whispered finally. "I'd really like that."

"I'll be there soon," Travis promised. "Just hang in there."

After they hung up, Taylor lay back down, pulling the blanket tighter around her. Even in her feverish state, the idea of him coming home to take care of her warmed her heart. She dozed off again, this time with the knowledge that help was on the way.

A few hours later, Taylor was awakened by the sound of the front door opening. She blinked groggily as Travis walked into the room, still dressed in his post-game clothes, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly, setting the bag down and crossing the room to kneel beside the couch. His eyes were full of concern as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from her sweaty forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," she mumbled, her voice hoarse.

He frowned, placing a hand on her forehead. "You're burning up."

Taylor sighed. "Yeah, the fever's been pretty bad."

Without another word, Travis stood up and went into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and some medicine. He knelt back down beside her, offering the water first. "Here, drink this."

She took a small sip, the cool liquid soothing her dry throat. Then, she took the medicine he handed her, grateful for the help.

Travis sat beside her on the couch, his arm wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. "I should've come home sooner," he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple.

"You're here now," she whispered, leaning into him, the warmth of his body a comfort against the chills still wracking hers. "That's all that matters."

For the first time all day, Taylor felt a sense of relief wash over her. Travis's presence, his care, made the fever, the aches, and the exhaustion more bearable. She let herself relax into him, knowing that with him by her side, she didn't have to be strong on her own.

"I've got you," he said quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

And with those words, Taylor finally let herself drift off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that she wasn't alone anymore.