I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - A Tayvis Story

Invisible String

Later that day, before heading home, Taylor caught up with Tree about Travis Kelce's treatment.

"Yeah, we're starting his treatment tomorrow morning. I've assigned Kim to his case," Tree said, scrolling through her tablet.

Taylor shook her head, her voice firm. "No, not Kim. She's great, but Travis needs someone who understands where he's at mentally, not just physically. I want Ryan on his case."

Tree looked up, surprised by the determination in Taylor's voice. "Ryan? Are you sure? He's got a lot on his plate already."

Taylor nodded, her mind made up. "I'm sure. Travis needs someone who can be patient, who can really see him, not just his injury. Ryan's the best fit for that right now."

Tree studied Taylor for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, I'll make the switch. You're really invested in this, aren't you?"

Taylor paused, her thoughts briefly drifting back to that hospital room, to the feeling of helplessness she'd sworn she'd never let herself feel again. "Yeah," she said softly. "I am. And I can't let him go through this alone. Not like that."

Tree softened, understanding flashing in her eyes. "Alright, Tay. I'll make sure everything's set. You take care of yourself, too."

Taylor smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I will. Thanks, Tree."

A MONTH LATER (26th October )

Taylor woke up to the unmistakable sound of something shattering. With a groan, she blinked groggily at the room, already knowing who the culprit was. Sure enough, Meredith, her mischievous Scottish Fold, sat by the edge of the nightstand, her wide, guilty eyes locked on Taylor. A broken vase lay in pieces on the floor.

"Not again, Mere," Taylor muttered, throwing her head back against the pillow. "I swear, you've got a personal vendetta against breakable objects."

Meredith just meowed in response, her tail flicking with defiance.

Taylor sighed deeply, dragging herself out of bed. She grabbed a towel from the bathroom to clean up the shards, muttering under her breath. "Why, God, why?" she half-joked, still groggy from sleep.

As she crouched down to gather the pieces, she noticed Meredith hadn't moved, watching her with that slightly judgmental look only cats could pull off. "Mere," Taylor said, exasperated but amused, "go annoy Olivia or Benji. I've got to get ready for work."

At the mention of her two other cats, Meredith huffed—actually huffed—and trotted off, tail swishing dramatically behind her. Taylor rolled her eyes, chuckling despite herself.

Taylor rolled her eyes, feeling both amused and exasperated. "Typical," she mumbled, sweeping up the last shards of the broken vase. She'd long since learned not to leave anything too fragile lying around the house with her three furry 'children.'

Once the mess was cleaned up, she headed to the kitchen where Olivia, her quiet middle cat, was lounging on the windowsill, soaking up the morning sun. Benjamin, the youngest and most rambunctious of the trio, was already waiting by his food bowl, his tail flicking impatiently.

"I know, I know," Taylor said, shaking her head. "You guys are lucky I love you."

She filled their bowls, watching as they each found their spots—Meredith returned with a huff and took her place at the far end of the kitchen, Olivia jumped down gracefully from the windowsill to nibble on her food, and Benji wasted no time diving into his breakfast. Taylor smiled fondly, knowing her day wouldn't feel right without their morning chaos.

"Be good while I'm gone," she called as she grabbed her bag and keys, already knowing they'd likely find some new trouble to get into while she was at work.

----------------------------------------------------

Taylor entered the hospital, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor as she made her way to her office. She spotted Ryan leaning against the doorframe, his familiar, easy grin lighting up his face. Despite the weight of the day already pressing on her, she felt a small smile tug at her lips.

"Hey, what brings you here so early?" Taylor asked, wrapping him in a quick, familiar hug.

"Just making sure you haven't forgotten our weekly Travis Kelce update," Ryan replied with a chuckle, though the usual spark in his eyes was dimmed by something more serious.

Taylor's smile faded slightly as she noticed the change in his tone. "What's going on, Ry?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Ryan glanced around the hallway before jerking his head toward her office. "Let's talk inside."

Once they were seated, Taylor leaned forward, elbows on her desk, and gestured for him to continue. "Alright, lay it on me."

Ryan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture she knew all too well. He was trying to find the right words. "It's been a month, Taylor. A month, and Travis... he's not making the progress I'd hoped for. Physically, we're doing everything we can, but mentally..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "It's like he's already given up. The kind of progress we'd expect in 3-4 months might now take 5-6, if not longer. And if he doesn't snap out of it soon, he might not come back from this. Not fully."

Taylor's breath caught slightly at Ryan's words, a brief flash of something painful flickering behind her eyes. She quickly masked it, but not before a memory—an image—flashed in her mind: a dimly lit room, a still figure lying on the bed, the heavy silence hanging in the air. She knew that look all too well—the hollow eyes, the way someone could be there but not really present, as if part of them had already retreated somewhere unreachable.

She swallowed, her voice coming out a touch softer. "I understand. More than you know." She paused, collecting herself before continuing. "Give me a day to go over his case file. I'll collaborate with you and see if there's anything we're missing, something we can adjust. Thanks for keeping me in the loop, Ry."

Ryan gave her a small, encouraging smile and a wink, though the worry in his eyes lingered. "That's what I'm here for, Chief."

As Ryan left, Taylor sat back in her chair, staring at the door long after it had closed behind him. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, doubts creeping in at the edges. She'd seen this before, lived through it. And the thought of someone else going through that same darkness—of being unable to pull themselves out of it—made her chest tighten with an emotion she didn't want to name.

She wasn't just overseeing Travis's recovery; she was beginning to feel responsible for it. And the weight of that responsibility was growing heavier by the day.

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