Taylor Swift and Tree Paine Oneshots

Not what I planned happening

Can be seen as a part 2 of POTS, it can also be read alone but it's in the same universe. 

It was the night of another sold-out show, but something felt different for Taylor. She sat in her dressing room, trying to lace up her boots when her hands trembled, the weakness in her arms echoing through her body. Her legs felt like they were betraying her, heavy and unresponsive.

"Taylor, are you okay?" Tree Paine's voice pulled her out of her thoughts as she stood in the doorway, concern etched across her face. "You seem... off."

Taylor flashed a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm fine, just tired. Long tour, you know?" She shrugged, though even the motion felt taxing.

Tree wasn't convinced, but before she could say anything else, Travis Kelce entered the room, his usual warm presence filling the space. He wrapped an arm around Taylor's shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Ready to knock them dead out there, babe?" he asked with a grin, unaware of the internal struggle Taylor was battling.

Taylor's smile faltered. "Yeah, about that..." she started, attempting to stand up from her chair. But her legs didn't cooperate. She pushed harder, her face tightening in concentration, but as she stood, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor.

"Whoa!" Travis was at her side in an instant, gripping her arm as he tried to help her up. Tree rushed over, panic flooding her. "Taylor, what's going on?"

Taylor swallowed back the rising frustration and embarrassment. "I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice shaky. "I've been feeling weak all day, but this... this has never happened before."

Travis gently helped her back into the chair, his brow furrowed in concern. "Maybe you just need a minute to rest."

Taylor shook her head. "No, the show's in an hour. I can't—" She paused, staring down at her legs as if willing them to work. She stood up again, but her legs betrayed her once more, and she crumpled to the floor.

"Damn it!" Taylor shouted, slamming her fists onto the ground. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. "Why now? Why is this happening now?"

Tree knelt beside her. "We'll figure it out. But maybe... maybe we should consider canceling tonight's show? No one will hold it against you."

Taylor shook her head fiercely. "No way. They've all been waiting for this. I'm not going to disappoint them because my body decides to act up now."

Travis, ever her rock, crouched beside her. "Tay, you've got nothing to prove. If your body's telling you to rest, we can call it off."

But Taylor was stubborn, her perfectionism clashing with the harsh reality she was facing. She attempted to stand again, gripping the edge of the table for support, but her legs gave out almost immediately, sending her sprawling once more.

This time, she didn't try to get up. Instead, she sat on the floor, her chest heaving as she stared at her legs, the tears spilling over. "I don't know what's happening to me," she whispered. "I've never felt this weak before. I can't even stand. How am I supposed to perform?"

There was a long silence, broken only by the hum of the equipment backstage. Then Tree spoke, her voice gentle but firm. "You're not alone in this, Taylor. We'll find a way."

Taylor sighed, defeated. "And what? Go on stage like this?" She gestured to herself sitting on the floor, the epitome of vulnerability. "I can't... I can't let them see me like this."

Travis reached out, taking her hand. "What if you go out on wheels? You've done acoustic sets where you're sitting down before. Maybe tonight you can perform in a chair. You don't have to stand to be a rockstar."

Taylor looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of uncertainty and fear. "You really think people will be okay with that?"

Tree chimed in. "They're here for you, Taylor, not just to see you dance or run around the stage. They want to hear your voice, to feel your music. You could go out there on a chair, in a wheelchair, hell, on a hoverboard, and they'd still love every second of it."

Taylor bit her lip, considering it. Her legs were still trembling, the thought of trying to stand again making her feel queasy. Maybe they were right. She didn't have to stand to perform. She didn't have to let this moment break her.

"I have a wheelchair," Taylor muttered, her voice soft but growing stronger. "It's in the back... just in case."

Travis gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Then let's use it."

Tree stood up, already heading toward the back to fetch the chair, while Travis helped Taylor into her makeup chair once more. He knelt beside her, holding her gaze. "You're going to be amazing tonight, just like always."

Taylor leaned her head against his shoulder, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thank you," she whispered. "For being here."

Moments later, Tree returned with the wheelchair, setting it in front of Taylor. The reality of the situation hit her again—this was how she would go on stage tonight, and for the first time, her body wasn't cooperating.

"I feel weak," Taylor said softly, her voice barely audible. "And I hate it."

Travis helped her into the chair, his hands steady on her waist. "You're not weak, Tay. You're one of the strongest people I know."

Taylor nodded, though she didn't fully believe it. Her legs might not have been working, but she still had her voice, her music, and the love of the people who supported her. That was enough.

"Let's do this," she said, her determination finally outweighing her fear.

As the lights dimmed and the crowd roared, Taylor rolled onto the stage, her heart racing. She took a deep breath and began to sing, the weight of the wheelchair forgotten as her voice soared above the crowd. Tree and Travis watched from the side, proud of her for facing this moment with courage.

Tonight wasn't just about a concert. It was about resilience, about pushing through when everything seemed to be falling apart. And Taylor, even in a wheelchair, was still the superstar the world loved.