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

Crumpled Up Piece Of Paper Lying Here

Tree walked in with a coffee in hand, her usual teasing smile fading when she saw the look on Taylor's face. "Hey, you alright?" she asked, setting the coffee down.

Taylor opened her eyes, letting out a long breath. "Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind." She forced a smile. "I'm taking on Travis Kelce's case personally."

Tree's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? What brought that on?"

Taylor shrugged, trying to play it off. "Donna's plea got to me. Plus, it's been a while since I've handled a case myself. I guess it's time to get back in the game."

Tree nodded, though her expression remained concerned. "Well, if anyone can do it, it's you. Just... don't forget to take care of yourself too, okay?"

Taylor gave a genuine smile this time. "Thanks, Tree. I'll be fine."

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

Taylor sat in her car, the hospital building looming behind her in the rearview mirror. The day's events replayed in her mind, but her thoughts kept circling back to Travis—and to memories she'd spent years trying to bury.

She let out a slow breath, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The last time she'd seen someone so lost, it had broken her. And now, here she was again, standing on the edge of that same precipice, only this time, she wasn't going to let herself fall.

"Not this time," she whispered to herself, determination hardening her resolve. "This time, I'm going to make sure he comes back."

With a final, deep breath, Taylor started the car and drove away, the weight of her past and her present heavy on her shoulders—but with a renewed sense of purpose guiding her forward.

NEXT DAY

Taylor's morning had been a relentless blur of meetings, each ticking minute a reminder of the promise she'd made to herself—to give Travis her undivided attention after lunch. The afternoon sun poured through the hospital's tall windows, casting a soft, golden light across the sterile hallways, almost mocking the heaviness she felt in her chest. As she shrugged on her doctor's coat, the familiar fabric seemed to weigh more than usual, burdened by the gravity of what lay ahead. Taylor picked up Travis's chart, her fingers brushing over the papers as she took a steadying breath before heading to his room.

The room was cloaked in an uneasy silence when she entered, broken only by the faint rustling of sheets as Jason gently helped Travis settle into bed. The antiseptic scent of the hospital hung in the air, mingling with the remnants of lunch, but it was the thick tension that made it hard to breathe. Travis, once a force of nature on the field, now sat still and withdrawn, his presence diminished. He barely acknowledged her, his gaze skimming over her before retreating back into himself, leaving behind the ghost of the man he once was.

"Hello, Mr. Kelce," Taylor greeted him, her voice tender, careful not to intrude too much into the fragile space he'd built around himself. "How are you feeling today?"

For a moment, Travis's eyes flickered toward her—dull and distant, like a light that had dimmed long ago—before he turned away again, retreating deeper into his silence. The weight of it settled over the room like a fog, thick and suffocating.

Jason stepped in, his voice trying to carry a brightness that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I guess that answers your question, Dr. Swift. But... where's Dr. Reynolds? Are you just checking in, or...?"

Taylor took a measured step closer, her gaze shifting between the brothers, gauging their reactions. "Actually, I'm here to take over Travis's treatment personally. And please, call me Taylor."