Taylor Swift and Tree Paine Oneshots

Stay quiet and crumble

TW: Mentions of SA

Tree had stopped by Taylor's place on a typical afternoon. She didn't want to intrude, but she was worried—Taylor had been out of contact for too long. Texts and calls had gone unanswered, and despite her respect for Taylor's need for privacy, Tree couldn't shake the sense that something was deeply wrong.

Letting herself in, Tree found Taylor's home quiet, her things untouched in a way that felt almost unnatural. Tree wandered through the rooms, hoping she might catch a sign of Taylor—a sweatshirt thrown across a chair, a half-finished cup of coffee. Anything that might hint at her presence. Instead, she found an eerie stillness.

In the study, on the edge of Taylor's usually organized desk, lay a thick manila folder that caught her eye. She didn't mean to intrude, but something about it seemed unusual. It was halfway open, as though someone had placed it down and forgotten to close it completely. Tree's eyes quickly scanned the top page. "Sexual Assault Examination Report," it read in cold, stark letters.

Her breath caught, heart pounding as she tried to process what she was seeing. The reality of it sank in slowly, piece by piece. She stared at the document, a mix of horror and disbelief washing over her. No. This couldn't be what she thought it was. Not Taylor. Not her Taylor.

At that moment, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, feeling almost guilty, only to find Taylor standing in the doorway, watching her, eyes wide, frozen. She looked exhausted, wearing a baggy sweatshirt and leggings, as if trying to disappear into the fabric. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed, evidence of nights spent fighting sleep.

Taylor took a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "You weren't supposed to see that, Tree."

Tree's hand flew to her mouth as she tried to suppress her own shock and the urge to break down right then and there. She wanted to say something, but the words failed her. A million questions surfaced, all fighting for her attention, but none seemed appropriate or even possible.

"Taylor..." was all Tree managed to whisper, her voice breaking.

Taylor closed her eyes for a moment, her shoulders slumping as if under a weight too heavy to bear. She opened them again, meeting Tree's gaze with an expression that was a mixture of pain, resignation, and relief. "It happened...months ago," she began quietly, her voice tinged with bitterness and exhaustion. "I—I didn't know how to tell you. Or anyone."

Tree's mind whirled as she processed the weight of what Taylor was saying. "I... I didn't know," she stammered, feeling utterly helpless. "I thought... I just thought you needed space."

"I thought that, too," Taylor replied, her voice barely audible. "But then, everything just...fell apart." She rubbed her temples, looking away. "I didn't want you to find out this way. It was... brutal, Tree. He... he didn't care. He didn't stop, even when..." Her voice wavered, and she clenched her fists, trying to hold back her tears.

Tree stepped forward, her eyes filled with compassion and an overwhelming urge to shield Taylor from the world. "Taylor, I can't even begin to understand the pain you must be going through. But I'm here now. Whatever you need, I'm here."

Taylor's defenses seemed to break as she sank into a nearby chair. She covered her face with her hands, letting out the tears she'd tried so hard to keep at bay. "I thought I could handle this alone," she whispered. "I thought...maybe if I just stayed quiet about it, I could pretend it didn't happen. But it's... it's always there, Tree."

Tree knelt beside her, resting a gentle hand on her knee, her own heart breaking at Taylor's suffering. "You don't have to face this alone," Tree said softly. "I'll be with you, whatever it takes. And we'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

Taylor looked up, the glimmer of gratitude in her eyes barely shining through her sadness. "Thank you, Tree. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Tree gave her a small, comforting smile, knowing that while they couldn't erase what had happened, they could face it together. And that, she hoped, would be enough to help Taylor heal.