Notes: chapter title from "all too well" by taylor swift.

DISCLAIMER: as usual, { I own nothing }, & any dialogue in italics comes directly from the show & is credited to the writers.


seven / I might be okay, but I'm not fine at all

… … …

He's not one of those guys who has to know where his girl is at all times. Willow has a full-time job and a son to take care of, so it's not like he expects her to be available to talk every time he calls or texts. And for the first few days after Valentine's Day, her sparse communication doesn't bother him; he knows she had to take some time off work to care for Jaxon, and she's likely still nursing him back to health. He understands that, and he doesn't take it personally.

But then a few days turns into a week, and a week turns into two, and he begins to think maybe he should take it personally. She's hardly answered or returned any of his phone calls, and her texts are short and impersonal. He can't help but wonder if she's changed her mind about them, after hearing his backstory about Nelle and his jealous fit over Michael. God, if she would just talk to him, maybe he could explain.

It's been two and a half weeks, and he's honestly at the point where he's more worried than annoyed or frustrated. She hasn't responded to a single text message in the last three days, and he hasn't even bothered to call, knowing she won't answer. He spends most of the morning at work trying to convince himself that she'll talk to him when she's ready, and he almost (not really) forgets about the situation until Lulu walks into the station that afternoon.

"Hey," she greets with a smile, setting a clear tupperware full of some kind of soup on his desk. "Working hard or hardly working?"

Chase rubs his eyes, bleary from staring at his computer screen for the last hour, and sighs. "I'm trying to work, but honestly, I'm a little distracted. I'm worried about Willow."

Lulu nods sympathetically. "Me, too," she agrees. "Actually, that's why I'm here. I don't have time to go by her place today, but I'm sure you'll be over there later, so I brought some of my mom's chicken soup. Hopefully it'll help her feel better."

Chase furrows his brow. "Willow's sick? Is she okay?"

Lulu nods, mirroring his look of confusion. "You didn't know? I just figured you'd been over there, helping her out."

Now he's kind of pissed off. "I would have been, except I've hardly spoken to her at all since Valentine's Day."

Lulu's eyes widen, and she groans in exasperation. "I swear, that girl…" She takes a seat in the chair next to his desk and sets her bag on the floor. "She's been running herself into the ground since Jaxon first got sick, and now he's been fighting another ear infection and teething for the last week or so. She pretty much goes to work, comes home to take care of him, and then she's usually up all night with him." She sighs. "The only reason I haven't been on her case is because she told me she had enough help. I just assumed she meant you."

He scowls. "No, she didn't mean me, because she stopped answering or returning my calls, and her texts are useless, if she responds at all. It feels like she's trying to avoid me." He sighs heavily. "I told her everything about Nelle and Michael that morning, and everything seemed okay, but what if she's changed her mind?"

"Chase, you know her better than that," Lulu scolds him. "She cares about you. I know she's told you things that she hasn't even told me, so she must care about you. If I had to guess, I would assume she's in survival mode and doesn't want to ask for help from anyone. She knows that you'd jump at the chance to save the day, and she feels like she's imposing. On both of us, it seems, since she's been lying to me."

The more Lulu explains, the more he has to fight to control his temper. He knows she likes to handle things herself, doesn't like to rely on anyone; he practically had to beg her to let him help her that first night when Jaxon was sick. It's one of the things he admires about her, how she never seems to need anyone. But the fact that she wouldn't even tell him what's going on because she didn't want him involved… it doesn't just piss him off, it hurts.

"She has to know I would have offered to help, if I had known she was struggling."

"She does know that," Lulu agrees. "I think that's the problem. She knows you're busy with work, and you've got your own things to worry about…"

"Yeah, well." He stands up, runs his hand through his hair, grabs his jacket where it lays over the back of his chair. "Now I'm worried about her, which means I'm not getting any work done, and honestly, I'm a little offended that she thinks I'd prioritize work over her and Jaxon, in any circumstance."

Lulu shrugs. "She's never had anyone care about her the way you do, Chase."

"And while that makes sense," he agrees, grabbing the container of chicken soup and following Lulu toward the door, "she's just going to have to deal with it, because I do care about her, and this is what I do for the people I care about."

He can't wait for the day when she finally realizes that his offers to help aren't attached to any sense of obligation or formalities; that when he cares about someone, he wants to help, to take care of them in any way he can. Maybe that makes her uneasy, but like he said, she's going to have to learn to deal with it.

… … …

She's on the verge of losing it.

She doesn't remember the last time she felt this overwhelmed. Jaxon hasn't let her put him down in what feels like days. She hasn't washed her hair in… she honestly doesn't remember. She called out of work today for the fifth time in the last two weeks, which she's sure her boss isn't pleased about. Her apartment is a disaster of dirty dishes, unmade beds, and unfolded laundry. And, on top of everything, her head is so congested that she can hardly keep her eyes open.

She's been putting on a brave face, but honestly, the last two and half weeks have been hell. Since Valentine's Day, Jaxon has developed another ear infection and began teething at the same time. He's been fussy, and clingy, and since he won't sleep more than an hour or two at a time, she's hardly slept in the last two weeks. She knows that Chase or Lulu would be around to help in a heartbeat if she asked, but she doesn't want to burden anyone with things that she knows she can handle herself. As grateful as she is to have people in her life that love her, she's relied on them enough, and she can survive this little rough patch without bothering anyone else.

But now, between the lack of sleep, the stress of trying to handle all of this without burdening anyone else, and her own budding illness, she finds herself standing at her kitchen sink, holding a whimpering Jaxon and trying to wash the dishes through the blur of tears.

As if on cue, there's a knock at her door, and as if on instinct, she knows who it is. She's not even startled when he attempts to open the locked door. "Willow," Chase calls. "Open the door, please."

She doesn't even have the energy to argue with him. She turns the water off, wipes the tears from her cheeks, and moves to open the door, unsurprised when he barrels inside, his eyes flashing with equal parts anger and concern. He looks her over quickly, his eyes softening in concern when he inevitably notices her red-rimmed eyes, her tear-stained cheeks. "What the hell, Willow?" he sighs in exasperation, taking Jaxon from her arms and running a hand over his back. Unfortunately, he's clearly in pain, and he just continues to whimper and cry helplessly.

She tries to force a smile, but it doesn't even come close. "I know what you're going to say," she begins.

"Yeah, I'm sure you do," he chuckles humorlessly. "Do you know how worried I've been about you?"

"I didn't want you to worry," she murmurs. She feels the pressure of tears behind her eyes again, and she sits down on the sofa, her head falling into her hands. Chase paces her living room, comforting Jaxon as his cries slowly (mercifully) begin to quiet. She massages her temples, fighting off a splitting headache. "I've been handling it on my own. I didn't need to bother anyone else with my problems."

She can tell that he's fighting the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and when he meets her eyes again, they're calmer now, more concern than anger. "Willow," he says calmly, steadily. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this before you finally believe it: asking for help when things get difficult is not bothering me. That's what I'm here for. No matter what I've got going on at work, or whatever other reasons you've got in your head, you can always call me when you need me."

She wants to tell him that she doesn't need him, but she knows that's not his point. He wants to be there for her, and she can tell that he's hurt that she shut him out. She feels her cheeks heat up in shame, annoyed with herself for not realizing that by trying to spare him and handling things herself, she was actually hurting his feelings. "Thank you," she says, because she honestly doesn't know what else to say at this point.

"You don't need to thank me." He sets Jaxon down on the floor, now that he seems more content, and places a toy in front of him. He sits down next to Willow, pulling her toward him and into his arms. "Sorry. I just hate that you've been struggling for weeks and didn't feel like you could call me to help you."

"I knew I could call you," she corrects him, catching a stray tear with her finger. "I just…"

"Didn't want to bother me, I know." He almost rolls his eyes. He leans in and kisses her, and she feels calmer than she has in almost two weeks. "You're lucky I like how stubborn you are," he smiles against your lips.

She smiles and leans in to press her lips to his again. "Sorry I'm such a pain in the ass." She leans into him, resting her forehead against his chest in pure exhaustion. "I just want him to feel better," she whimpers helplessly.

"I know, babe," he murmurs sympathetically. "But you can't take care of him very well if you're not taking care of yourself." He kisses her forehead, pushes her messy hair away from her face. "You feel a little bit warm."

She could argue, pretend like she's fine, but her head is pounding and she's completely exhausted and she doesn't feel like pretending anymore. "I feel like I got hit by a train."

He sighs heavily, exasperation rolling off him in waves. "Well," he says decisively, I'm here now. Why don't you go take a bath, or a shower, whatever will make you feel better, and then lay down for a bit. I can handle Jaxon. When's his next dose of antibiotics?"

She narrows her eyes. "Did Finn call you?"

He chuckles. "No. Doctor-patient confidentiality. I talked to Lulu. She said you told her you had plenty of help." He levels his gaze at her, and she smiles sheepishly. "You really are a pain in my ass," he mumbles.

"He just got another dose, which is probably why he's calmed down a bit now," she tells him. "He may need some Motrin soon, though, for the pain."

He nods. "We've got it covered." He stands up, pulls her with him, steers her down the hallway. "Now go and relax. We'll just have some guy time out here. Watch the Sox game, drink a couple beers, you know, the usual."

She rolls her eyes, but she does as she's told. "Am I allowed to say thank you, Detective?"

"If it'll make you feel better," he sighs.

"Thank you." She smiles sweetly, kissing his cheek. She leans down to kiss her son's head as she passes, slips into her bedroom and closes the door.

She doesn't know if she'll ever get used to being taken care of the way he takes care of her, but she's not too stubborn to admit when she's in over her head. When she emerges from her room after a shower and a two-hour nap, feeling human enough to handle the chaos again, she finds the two of them asleep on the couch with the Red Sox post-game show on TV, and she has a fleeting moment where she feels like she's seeing straight into her future.

She can't say she doesn't like what she sees.

… … …

It feels like things have finally settled into a normal routine between he and Willow. He can't say he doesn't love the feeling of calm stability that has settled over his life. Lulu still keeps Jaxon during the week, unless Chase has a day off, in which case he stays at Willow's apartment with the kid while she works, and then usually hangs out most of the evening after she gets home. Even some days when Lulu keeps him, Chase finds himself at her place, playing with Jaxon and sometimes taking him home if Willow's going to be late. He has a key to her place - strictly for Jaxon's benefit, she insists - and he sees her most days of the week, except those weekends when he has to work on a case.

The more pieces of her life she gives him, the more he wants. He loves the feeling of creating a life with someone, with two someones. He and Willow are finally in a good place where they lean on one another, support one another. He loves Jaxon and the way he keeps them on their toes - eight months is a fun age where he's learning something new everyday, discovering he world around him, trying out new skills and getting closer and closer to saying real words by the minute. It kind of blows his mind to think of how little he was when Chase first met him, how much he's grown and learned since then. He has a little personality now - goofy and fearless and strong-willed, like his mom. The only thing Chase loves more than spending time with him is spending time with both of them.

Life feels good. Stable. Happy.

He should know by now that in Port Charles, times like this don't last very long.

He has the day off, and he decided to keep Jaxon at his place today, just for a change of scenery. Over the last few months, he's found himself accumulating items that Jaxon might need if he's over, whether by way of Willow accidently leaving them behind or Chase buying them to have on hand, just in case. Either way, he's perfectly equipped to handle him for a day while Willow finishes out her last few days before Spring Break.

He's sitting on the floor, trying his best to get Jaxon to eat some lunch - a bit late, he'll admit - as he cruises around the coffee table (Chase has a feeling that his crawling days are numbered), when there's a knock at the door.

"Chase, It's Michael."

Chase furrows his brow, wondering what Michael's doing out of the office in the middle of the day. CEO privileges, he muses. He makes sure Jaxon's stable against the coffee table and quickly opens the door, ushering Michael inside. "Hey, Michael," he greets. Based on the look on his friend's face, Chase concludes that this is not just a social call. "Is everything okay?"

He watches intently as Michael crouches down on the floor, greets Jaxon with an attempt at a high-five. (A new trick Chase taught him just the other day; it's pretty cool how quickly his little mind soaks things up.) Michael takes a eat on his sofa, takes a deep breath. "I think Kristina's in trouble."

Chase immediately goes into detective mode, picking Jaxon up off the floor so he can focus on their conversation. "What kind of trouble?"

"She's joined some new organization in town," Michael sighs. "Kristina, she's been kind of lost for a while, trying to figure out what to do with her life, and I guess she thinks whoever this Shiloh guy is has the answers."

Shiloh.

Chase feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He wishes he could brush it off as coincidence, but his gut is telling him that this is all too real. Michael's description sounds all too similar to the way Willow described her parents - searching for answers, and for someone to provide them - and it's not out of the realm of possibility that Shiloh may have moved on from Beecher's Corners, attempting to extend his reach, but why Port Charles? And if he really is here, how long has he been here? How much does he know?

"Wait a minute," Chase interrupts, his vision hazy with disbelief. "Did you just say Shiloh? As in… as in Dawn of Day?"

Michael nods, rolling his eyes. "Apparently this guy is some sort of teacher of enlightenment, or something. It sounds like a bunch of psychobabble bullshit to me." He winces, glancing at Jaxon apologetically. Yeah, Chase thinks distractedly, they should probably watch their language around him, now that he's about to start talking. "But Kristina is just eating it up, and there are just a lot of things about these people that don't seem right to me." Michael furrows his brow, registering the tone of Chase's previous comment. "You've heard of him before?"

"I, uh… I knew Dawn of Day was a fixture in Beecher's Corners," Chase says cautiously, unwilling to tell Michael just how well he knows this guy, both for the sake of Willow's privacy and Michael's sanity. "I didn't know they'd made their way to Port Charles."

"Yeah, I guess this guy set up shop around here back in December," Michael tells him. Chase's blood runs cold. December? He's been here for three months, and Willow has no idea? He tries to keep his expression as neutral as possible, but his mind is racing as Michael continues. "Kristina had a rough time around the holidays, and I guess this… group… they've helped her, or so she thinks. But it doesn't seem legit to me, Chase. It almost seems like a cult. She's willing to cut people out of her life if they don't support DOD."

"Sounds about right," Chase mutters. He can't believe this bastard has been lurking around Port Charles for months, and Willow has no idea how close he is. What if he knows about Jaxon, and he's just waiting for the perfect time to strike? If he thinks he's seen her panicked before, this is going to send her straight into a tailspin.

"I don't know if he's doing anything illegal," Michael says doubtfully. He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There's no law against being a scumbag. But I figured I would bring you in the loop anyway, see if there's any way you can maybe run a background check on this guy, have the PCPD keep an eye out for him."

Chase takes a seat in the Chair across from Michael and sets Jaxon down on the floor in front of him as he begins to fuss and wiggle. Jaxon immediately pulls himself to stand against the coffee table, and Chase pulls his plate in front of him so he can continue eating his macaroni and cheese. "Trust me. I'm already on it."

Michael nods. "Thanks man. I appreciate it."

Jaxon squawks in protest, and Chase rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay," he chuckles. "It's not like you haven't had my attention all day long, squirt."

Michael studies Jaxon, smiling, as the little boy cruises his way over to him, babbling up a storm. "He's growing so fast," he comments.

"Yeah, right?" Chase grins down at the little boy as he bangs his tiny hand onto the table, leaving a handprint of cheese residue. "It's crazy, how fast they change." He looks up at his friend, notices the tinge of sadness in his eyes. "You can miss Jonah and still be happy, you know."

Michael nods. "I know. Some days it hits me harder than others. Some days, I see kids like Jaxon and it doesn't phase me. And some days, I see kids like Jaxon and all I can think is that Jonah would be doing that now. And no matter how hard I try, it brings me back to Nelle and the part she played in all this."

Chase clears his throat, contemplating whether now is a good time to clear the air about his feelings for Willow. He checks his watch, hears footsteps in the hall. Willow's back. His concerns will have to wait for another time.

He's got bigger concerns now.

"Don't mention anything about DOD to Willow," Chase says hurriedly. "I'll do what I can to help you protect Kristina."

Michael furrows his brow, opens his mouth like he wants to ask questions, but the lock clicks in the door and he just nods instead.

Willow steps through the door, and Chase kind of loves how she doesn't hesitate at all to let herself into his apartment. The idea that she feels at home here makes his heart stutter in his chest a little bit. He can't help but smile. "Hey, you." He swings Jaxon into his arms, who squeals in delight, and makes his way over to her. He leans down to kiss her. "How was your day?"

She sighs. "Better now that I'm here with you two." She makes a face at Jaxon, who reaches out for her happily, and pulls him into her arms. She blows a raspberry against his cheek, and he giggles. Her eyes settle on their guest, and she smiles. "Hey, Michael."

"Hey," Michael nods.

Jaxon smushes his hand into her cheek, and she winces, wiping cheese residue off her face. "I can tell you've spent a day with the boys," she laughs. "You're a mess."

"He's been cruising all over the place," Chase tells her, moving to grab Jaxon's plate from the coffee table and setting it on the kitchen counter. "I bet you he's walking by April."

"Don't wish that on me," Willow laughs, setting Jaxon down on the floor to play as he begins to whine. "Or yourself, for that matter."

"I, uh…" Michael stands up, gesturing toward the door. "I'm gonna head out."

"Thanks for coming by," Chase says, and he doesn't miss the unreadable expression on his friend's face as he exits. They've got to hash this out at some point, but it'll have to wait for now. "I'll be in touch."

"Thanks, man."

Willow says goodbye and locks the door behind him, then joins Chase in the kitchen as Jaxon plays happily on the living room floor. "What's going on?" she asks.

Chase clears his throat, furrows his brow. He doesn't want to meet her eyes, because he's not sure he can hide the truth from her if he does. He busies himself washing dishes in the sink, attempting to avoid suspicion. "What do you mean?"

She crosses her arms over her chest, quirks her brow. She leans against the counter next to the sink. "You know, for a detective, your poker face could really use some work."

He needs to tell her. He knows he does. But they've lived in ignorant bliss of Shiloh's presence in Port Charles for months now, and things are finally beginning to settle down for them. She's already stressed with work lately, worrying about her job security, and she's just beginning to really, truly feel safe here. With him. He doesn't want to ruin it. At least, not until he absolutely has to.

He'll tell her. Just not right now.

"Michael is worried about Kristina, and wants me to look into a few things," he explains. "I don't think it's anything to be too concerned about."

She tilts her head, her eyes filled with concern now. "Is Kristina okay? What's wrong?"

And there goes the guilt again, bubbling in his stomach. "She's okay," he assures her. "It's nothing serious, at least not yet. I can't really say any more than that."

She rolls her eyes, bumps her hip against his playfully. "What, you still can't trust me with police business?"

He returns her hip bump, chuckling, and glares at her teasingly. "You're not as innocent as you want me to believe you are. You and Lulu gossip like old ladies."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Like you and Michael, you mean?"

He prides himself on being someone who thinks meticulously before he acts. He considers every possible outcome, every possible angle, every possible alternative. However, he'll admit that in this particular instance, he acts on impulse and lifts his hand out of the sink to flick water at her face.

Her jaw drops indignantly. A slow, mischievous grin spreads across her cheeks. "Oh, you asked for it."

What follows is a mess of bubbles and water and at one point, she soaks his shirt with the water sprayer, to which he responds by forcing her into a hug that soaks her clothes as well. She's laughing and he's laughing and she's pulling him closer and he's kissing the bubbles off her lips and Jaxon's crawled his way into the kitchen, splashing happily in what's now a large puddle on his kitchen floor, and this. This is what he wants their life to be. Not fear and anxiety and uncertainty, but happiness and laughter and… love.

He's going to have to tell her the truth eventually. But if keeping it from her will keep her laughing, just for a little while longer, he's going to keep it to himself while he gathers information about what Shiloh's doing here, and how he can bring him down.

He won't let him anywhere near Willow, or Jaxon. He won't let this bastard ruin this wonderful little life they're building. He'll make sure of it.

… … …

She doesn't normally like to stay at school after hours if she doesn't have to. She finds it a bit creepy when everyone's gone, and it's just better for her sanity if she doesn't linger too long. But today was the last day before Spring Break, and with all the excitement, she didn't get to finish everything she needed to. She wants to be able to enjoy a full week off with Jaxon, and Chase, and she won't be able to if she knows she's left things unfinished at work.

Chase worked an early morning shift today and got off early, so he picked up Jaxon from Lulu's house and took him back to her place. She kind of loves the new little routine they've settled into, and she has to admit that she's a little surprised by how willingly he jumps into the role of caretaker for her son. She never expected that he would love spending time with Jaxon as much, maybe more, as he enjoys spending time with her. Watching them play together is quickly becoming one of her new favorite things, and just the thought of going home to the two of them makes her smile. She quickly texts him that she's stuck at school and will be home as soon as she can.

She's just packed up her bag to leave and turned to erase the board when she hears footsteps in the hallway. She furrows her brow, wondering who else stayed after work on the last day before Spring Break.

"Kali."

Her stomach turns to ice, and every hair on her body stands on end. No. It can't be. He's not here. She's hallucinating.

(She wishes repeating those phrases in her mind would make them true.)

"Kali Miller." Shiloh's voice drips with false kindness. "It's so good to see you, after all this time."

She finally turns to face him, and just the sight of him fills her stomach with equal parts anxiety and dread. The smirk on his face makes her want to scream. He looks just how she remembers him, unfortunately. She fights back the urge to fumble for her phone. The way he's looking at her now, the predatory gleam in his eye… she refuses to give him the power to frighten her, and she refuses to give him the satisfaction of wavering.

She crosses her arms over her chest, stares him straight in the eyes. "My name is Willow Tait."

Shiloh chuckles. "So I've heard," he muses. "Port Charles really is a small town. You hear things about people."

She feels a stab of panic in her chest, wondering if he knows about her son. But she can't let on that she has something to hide, or he'll know immediately. If she gives even an inkling of unease, he'll find a way to manipulate the truth out of her, and she can't let that happen.

"What are you doing here, Shiloh?" she demands.

"Oh, haven't you heard?" He pushes his hands into his pockets, strolls around her classroom like he owns the place. "Dawn of Day has been building a presence here in Port Charles. We've got quite the following, already, in just three short months."

Three months? He's been here all this time, and she had no idea? Her throat begins to close in panic, and she quickly swallows it down. How could she not know? And how could it be possible that he's been here so long and doesn't know about her son? Their son? And if he knows, is he cornering her here as a distraction to take him away from her?

She swallows thickly, hoping her expression doesn't betray the way her mind is racing. She speaks slowly, calmly. "If you're here to reign me back in, Shiloh, I'm not interested."

He sighs patronizingly. "Oh, Kali. It pains me to see the loss of progress in you. I always thought you were one of my most promising students, but now…" he shakes his head in mock sadness. "It's a tragedy, really, to see someone with such potential stray so far from her path."

And just like that, the panic fades, replaced with sudden and blinding rage. Now, she has to fight to keep her voice calm for an entirely different reason.

"My 'path' is no longer any of your concern," she says lowly, her eyes flashing. "Now, either you leave, or I'll call the police and report you for harassment."

"Harassment." He presses his hand to his chest, his eyes widening, feigning surprise. "I sense deep bitterness, deep distress in you, Kali. Perhaps we should explore that more."

"Perhaps you should do what she asked you to do, before she has a witness to corroborate her story."

Willow looks up to find Lulu standing in the doorway, Charlotte peeking out from behind her, and relief floods through her body. She was so focused on Shiloh, on her anger that she didn't hear the footsteps in the hallway, but she's never been so grateful for an unexpected visitor.

"Just go, Shiloh," Willow says firmly. Lulu moves into the classroom, clutching Charlotte's hand, and comes to stand next to Willow. She stands up just a little bit taller. "And don't ever come near me again."

He looks between the two of them, an amused smirk on his lips. "Very well. I have a class to teach, anyway." He turns to Lulu. "You might benefit from some of our courses, Lulu. I would love to see you and Charlotte at the Dawn of Day house someday soon."

"I don't think so," Lulu says decisively. "Goodbye, Shiloh."

He shakes his head in mock disappointment, sighs heavily, and finally, mercifully, makes his way out the door.

Lulu almost immediately stalks to the door, closing it firmly behind him, and turns to face her friend. "That guy is such a creep. I didn't know Dawn of Day did door-to-door soliciting. What did he say to you?"

Willow hears her talking, but she doesn't process a single word. She struggles to regain her composure, feeling as though the room is closing in on her. She lowers herself to lean against her desk, her legs like jelly underneath her.

He's here. He's in Port Charles, and he knows where she is, knows her new name. He could find out everything.

"Jaxon," she breathes out, fumbling for her phone as her hands shake violently.

"Jaxon is with Chase." Lulu quickly crosses the room to support Willow as she sways uneasily. "Willow, what the hell is going on?" she demands, helping her around her desk to sit in her chair.

"Are you okay, Miss Tait?" Charlotte asks, concerned. "Do you need some water?"

Willow struggles to breathe. No, she is most certainly not okay. All this time, she's felt safe. She's put down roots in this place; she's become attached to people. To Lulu, to her students. Chase. She's become so comfortable here that she almost forgot what (who) she was running from, and her carelessness is about to bite her in the ass.

She's not safe here anymore.

She can't stay here.

She takes a deep breath, forces a smile. "Thank you, Charlotte, but I'm okay."

"No, you're not okay." Lulu narrows her eyes. "What did Shiloh say to scare you so badly?"

Willow inhales shakily. She's so overwhelmed that all she wants to do is cry. She squeezes her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. "I just need to see Jaxon."

"Willow." Lulu takes her by the shoulders, forcing her friend to meet her gaze. "If there's something I need to know about Shiloh, you need to tell me now."

Willow swallows down her panic, her tears. She closes her eyes again, takes a few deep breath to steady herself. She doesn't know how she made it this far without Lulu knowing the truth, but she supposes there's no hiding it anymore.

"Shiloh wasn't advertising for DOD," she admits quietly. "He was trying to convince me to come back."

"Come back?" Lulu furrows her brow in confusion. "You were part of Dawn of Day?"

Willow nods. "In Beecher's Corners," she says, her voice wavering. "Until late last year. He's the one who… he's…"

Lulu's eyes widen in realization. "He's the one who…" Her eyes cut to Charlotte, who is watching with wide eyes, and she clears her throat. "He's the one who… who hurt you?"

Willow nods, her shoulders sagging in defeat, tears spilling down her cheeks. "He's here, Lulu."

Lulu kneels in front of her friend, takes her hand, squeezes tightly. "He can't hurt you anymore," she insists quietly, firmly. "Not here."

"You don't understand," Willow cries desperately. "He's… what if he knows? What if he tries to take Jaxon from me?"

"What? Why would he…" Lulu presses her lips together, concern causing her brows to knit together. "Willow. Is Shiloh Jaxon's father?"

Without her consent, a sob escapes her lips, and the tears come faster now. "He's here. He's here, and he knows who I am. I can't… I can't stay here anymore."

Lulu nods. "Okay," she says, squeezing her hand comfortingly before rising to stand. "Okay. Come on, we'll take you home."

"No, you don't understand!" Willow protests, her voice rising in panic. She stands, frantically begins to gather her things from her desk. "I can't stay in Port Charles, Lulu. I have to take Jaxon away from here."

"Wait a minute. Willow, stop," Lulu demands, and Willow leans forward, resting her palms on her desk, unwilling to meet her friend's eyes. "You can't just leave. You have people here who care about you, and about Jaxon. We can protect you."

"I don't want anyone to have to protect me," she cries, her tears streaming freely now. "I don't want anyone else to be burdened by Shiloh's manipulation. I can't subject you all to a man like that."

"You and Jaxon are safer here in Port Charles than you are anywhere else in the world," Lulu protests.

"You're not listening to me, Lulu!" Willow slings her bag over her shoulder. "Shiloh is here, and he knows my name. It's only a matter of time before he finds out about Jaxon!"

"Okay. Okay." Lulu pulls her in for a hug, and Willow holds on tight, grateful for something to bring her back down to earth. "Let's take this one step at a time, okay? First things first, we need to get you home, and we need to tell Chase what's going on. We can help you decide what to do from there."

Lulu's tone leaves no room for discussion, and Willow closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. She nods. In this moment, what she really needs is to hold her baby; to know that he's safe, that he's still here with her. Despite Lulu's protests and what she imagines will be a huge fight from Chase, she has to leave. Every instinct in her body is telling her to run.

She has to keep her son safe. Even if she has to hurt the people she loves to do it.

… … …