Taylor Swift and Tree Paine Oneshots

Rehab

A/N: im mostly better now. but at the moment im sticking to updating maybe every 2 days.

Tree Paine had been through a whirlwind of emotions over the past few months. When Taylor disappeared off the radar—no texts, no calls, nothing—Tree's mind had spun in every possible direction. It wasn't the first time Taylor had gone quiet, but it felt different this time. After weeks of no word, she finally heard Taylor was in a rehab center. Rehab? After everything they'd been through, Tree was terrified that Taylor might have relapsed into old mental health struggles like back in 2014.

Walking into the brightly lit lobby of the rehabilitation center that morning, Tree braced herself for the worst. Her heart raced as she scanned the space, searching for her friend. She didn't know what to expect—tears, sadness, maybe the haunting emptiness that had once plagued Taylor years ago.

But instead, what she saw almost knocked her off her feet.

At the far end of the room, Taylor Swift was being pushed towards her in a wheelchair. And it wasn't just any ordinary scene. Taylor was dressed in oversized pajama pants, fluffy pink slippers, and a baggy t-shirt that looked like it belonged to Travis, her NFL-star boyfriend. Perched on her lap was Olivia, one of Taylor's beloved cats, who was glaring suspiciously at everyone around.

Tree blinked, trying to make sense of the image in front of her. Taylor was smiling, beaming even, and Travis—who was the one pushing her chair—wore a calm expression, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Tree's eyes trailed down Taylor's body, noticing the soft bulge of her legs beneath her pajama pants. There was something...off. The pants looked bulky, like something rigid was underneath. Her gaze shifted to Taylor's arm, which was encased in a cast from her elbow to her fingertips.

"Tree!" Taylor called out, grinning from ear to ear. Her voice was cheerful, but it did nothing to quiet the knot of anxiety forming in Tree's stomach.

"Taylor?" Tree rushed over, her mind buzzing with confusion. "What—what's going on?"

"Surprise?" Taylor said with a playful tilt of her head, as if they were bumping into each other at a coffee shop, not in a rehab center.

"Surprise?! Tay, what the hell happened? Why are you in a rehab center? Why didn't you call me?" Tree's voice was frantic, her eyes darting between Taylor and Travis, looking for answers.

Taylor gave an awkward laugh, clearly picking up on Tree's panic. "Okay, yeah, this looks... a little dramatic. But, I promise, I'm okay."

Tree's brow furrowed in disbelief. "Okay? You've got a cast on your arm, you're in a wheelchair, and you disappeared for months. What the hell is going on, Taylor?"

Taylor sighed, glancing at Travis, who gave her an encouraging nod. "Alright, fine, there's... kind of a lot to explain." She motioned to her legs with her uninjured hand. "So... I had a bit of an accident."

Tree's eyes widened, her voice hushed. "An accident?"

"Yeah," Taylor replied, her tone lighter than the situation warranted. "I was hit by a motorcyclist a couple months back. It was pretty rough. Broken legs, ribs... oh, and the wrist." She wiggled the fingers of her casted arm.

Tree's face paled. "Tay... are you serious? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," Taylor said softly. "I know how you get."

Tree looked at her incredulously, her voice rising in frustration. "Worry me?! Of course I'm going to worry! I thought you were in some kind of mental health crisis again, that you were in here for something else..."

Taylor's expression softened. "Tree, no. It's not like that. This isn't about... you know, what happened back then. This is just me recovering from the accident."

Tree's gaze flickered to Taylor's legs again. The oversized pajama pants made it hard to see, but now that she was closer, she could tell there was something solid underneath them, something more than just fabric. "Your legs... they're in casts, aren't they?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah. Both of them. The breaks were... well, pretty bad. I'm not exactly walking anytime soon."

Tree stared at her friend, still processing everything. "So, you're in rehab to... what? Get better?"

Taylor shifted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable from the conversation. "Kinda. I'm also... adjusting. You know, because..." She hesitated for a moment, but then decided to go for it. "I can't walk anymore, Tree. I'm paralyzed from the waist down."

Tree's heart sank. "Oh, my God."

Taylor flashed a quick smile, trying to keep the mood light. "Yeah, it's a lot to take in. But honestly, it's been weirdly okay. I've got Travis, and my cats, and... well, I'm making the best of it."

Tree could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. "Taylor... I had no idea. I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you."

Taylor reached out with her good hand and squeezed Tree's arm. "Hey, don't be sorry. I'm okay. I promise. Besides, it's kind of fun getting to boss Travis around."

Travis, who had been quiet up until this point, gave a small chuckle. "She's not kidding. It's been a full-time job."

Tree laughed through her tears, wiping her eyes. "Leave it to you to turn this into some kind of joke."

Taylor grinned. "What can I say? I've gotta find the humor in it, or I'll lose my mind."

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything hanging between them. Tree still couldn't fully believe what she was hearing. But seeing Taylor smile, even in the midst of everything, reassured her. Maybe Taylor really was okay.

Travis gave Taylor's shoulder a squeeze. "Ready for breakfast, babe?"

"Absolutely," Taylor said, giving him a playful nudge with her elbow. "Wheel me to the waffles, please."

Tree couldn't help but smile as she walked with them. It was a lot to take in, but Taylor was still Taylor—strong, resilient, and somehow always making light of the darkest situations.