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I was in quite a hurry editing this, so you might see some mistakes here and there. I will get them later....

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Chapter 29:

"Oh. No." Cirestain said, entering the cafeteria in urgency. "Guys, we have bad news."

Chelsea looked up in worry, "What is it?" She asked.

"Note, from Machire." Cirestain said, sitting down at the table. "A threat to Willow's family."

For the first time in a long time, Chelsea was happy Willow wasn't with them at this moment. "Why? He's never threatened the family of the Willows."

"Well, it says this:

Please return Ms. Glasspiers to her proper place, and if you don't, it'll be too late. Nobody will be home.

Sincerely- M."

Chelsea furrowed her eyebrows. "That is odd. Should we tell Willow?"

"It is her choice." Chris said. "To whether she wants to take that risk or not."

Michael crossed his arms, "But how can we trust him? We send Willow back, he'll probably take that chance to murder her. He won't let a Willow that has a chance of being the One live."

"I hate it when you're right," Alicia murmured. "And I hate it even more when I have to agree."

~~~~~~~~~~

Willow leaned against the cafeteria's door. She hated eavesdropping, but this was about her, and she wanted to know.

"Please return Ms. Glasspiers to her proper place, and if you don't, it'll be too late. Nobody will be home. Sincerely-M."

Willow held back a gasp. She didn't even stop to hear the rest of the conversation, because she was already running down the hallway.

She knew where the portals were, she could transport herself home, make sure no ones hurt. After hastily throwing on clothes, she ran to the training room. But, stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Michael smirking at her.

"I knew you were listening to the conversation." He inquired, twisting a knife between his fingers. He put the knife down and crossed his arms. "And I knew you didn't stop to listen to the rest of it. You're not going home, Willow."

Willow stubbornness kicked in, "What are you going to do about it?" She asked, defiantly.

Michael's face turned sarcastic, to Willow's surprise. "I don't know how I am going to strap a girl down that has only had one month of training, when I have only had seventeen years. How am I to do it?" Willow rolled her eyes.

"You can't keep me tied up forever. And you can't keep an eye on me forever, either." She said. Michael walked up to her so that they stood very close.

"What good would it do to them if he killed you?" He asked, looking straight into her eyes. His eyes deadly serious. "Do you really think he won't stop at killing you or them once you're back?" Willow didn't respond for a moment.

"I have to try." She said, in a quiet tone.

He rolled his eyes, "Do you have a death wish I don't know about?" Willow glared at him, momentarily. Then, a vicious idea crept in her head and she smiled at him.

"Look at it this way," She said. "If Machire sent you a note that if you didn't go to Alicia, Chris, and Chelsea, he would kill them. What would you do?" She got him there, he stayed silent for a moment before answering.

"That's different."

"How?" Willow rebuked.

"Because," He said, bluntly. "Unlike you, I have had much more training and could protect Alicia, Chris, Chelsea,  and myself." Darn it, Willow thought. He got her there.

Instead of admitting defeat, she raised her chin proudly. "I know how to handle myself."

Michael laughed, which Willow took as an insult, and so she glared at him. "Yeah, you can take care of yourself as much as a baby monkey. Even we can't take care of ourselves with Machire." Willow glared at him fiercely at the insult of the baby monkey. If looks could kill, he would be crying out in pain. She, as quickly as she could, raised her hand to slap him. But, he was much too fast and caught her hand before it was even near his face. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, just to prove that if she could get him, she was strong. But, it hadn't worked.

"When you prove to me, that you're strong enough to handle yourself." He mused. "I'll even help you sneak away home. But, until then, you aren't going anywhere."

"And what if it too late?" She whispered. "What if by the time I prove myself, they're all dead?" She spoke really low, not trusting her voice to go louder.

He leaned in a little, "I swear I will make sure we send double Ganashes up there to protect your family. I'll even do it myself, if no one else does."

Willow glanced at him to make sure he wasn't joking or teasing. "Alright." She replied, when she saw he wasn't kidding.

~~~~~~~~

It was dark, and Willow couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, a horrible picture of her family would pop in her mind. She felt like she was possessed by her own fears. Willow was never one to cry, especially at night, but tonight she couldn't help the tears that were overflowing. If her family died, it would be all her fault. And part Michael's, too, but she wouldn't start thinking like that. It wasn't Michael's responsibility to protect her family, it was hers.

She couldn't sleep, and she couldn't stand to be alone. So, she got up and sneaked out of her bedroom. She didn't know where she going. Or what she was looking for, but, she left anyways.

Somehow, she ended up in the library. She started, without thinking, looking through the bookshelves. She ended up in the poetry section. All the cover's of the books were brown, all but one. It sat, surrounded by brown. She grabbed it and opened it cautiously. Everything about seemed...mysterious.

Kopor Poetry.

She was about to turn the page, when a voice (a voice she would recognize anywhere) made jump. "I wouldn't do that." Michael said, walking up to her.

~~~~~~~~~~

Michael couldn't sleep, that night. He had gotten up, and somehow ended up in the library. Also, as if by fate, finding Willow there, too. She was reading the Kale Poetry book, well, was about to. "I wouldn't do that." He said, leaning casually against the door frame.

"Why not?" She asked, with her usual stubbornness that made him smile.

"Because you'll get lost." He replied, walking up to her and sitting on the window sill. Even at this distance from her, his heart was pounding.

"Lost?" She asked, curiously. She very hesitantly walked up to the windowsill and sat by him. Which did not help his concentration.

"Yes, lost." Was all he could reply. Willow nodded, effectively dropping the conversation.

"Can you promise me something?" She asked, looking out the window. Even without the moon's light showering over her, her eyes still shone brightly. He didn't know how to respond to that. He never made promises he couldn't keep, and never broke any promise for the life of him. He especially wouldn't be able to break a promise to Willow.

"Depends what it is." He replied, quietly. Watching intently to see what she thought of that. She didn't look mad, or sad. Well, a little bit sad, but Michael knew that had nothing to do with him.

"You know..." She started, her dark eyebrows furrowing as she tried to find the right words. Michael was never bored in watching her, she was always so interesting. It seemed her mind saw things differently from most people, and sometimes he wondered what it would be like to think like she does. "You know, how if I am not the One, I die, right?" She said, the words rushing out. Michael blinked at the bluntness momentarily and replied slowly:

"Yes." He didn't like to think of her death. Didn't like to think of death, period. There were so many ways a person could die, that he found it useless to worry. Yet, here he worried about Willow. Willow of all people, who was going on a suicide mission! And what made him even sicker was that he was training her to go to this suicide mission.

"Once I die," She said, Michael was about to object at her non-self-trust, but she held up a finger, stopping him. "Will you take care of my family?"

That stopped him short from saying, 'I promise', he could never promise something like that. He wasn't aloud. Willow seemed to have seen his contradiction in his eyes and shook her head. "No, no." She said. "Not take care of them, more of, once in a while see if they're all right."

Michael looked at her for a moment, she looked right back, her eyes level and steady. It seemed her eyes were the only steady thing in his life. He could do that, he found himself in Chicago a lot, once in a while he could check and see if they were all right. "I can do that," He said. "I promise."

A small smile played over her lips, "Thanks. Thank you, so much."

He smiled back, "Anytime."

Willow sighed and looked out the window, "Do you think they're going to be alright?" She asked, quietly.

He looked out onto the rolling plains and mountains, "You wanna know the truth," He replied, in the same quiet tone. "He's not going kill anyone. They're your counter weight. Once he kills them, he won't have any way to get you out of the Headquarter. He's probably going to keep them alive, Machire is smart. He's got gears behind his mind, always working, thinking how he could use the advantages he has. He isn't stupid, this isn't your bad-guy from Batman or Spider Man. He never makes stupid moves, and killing your family would be a stupid move. It would eliminate a valuable resource."

Willow cocked her head to the side and looked at him. "There are a lot of worse things than death," She whispered, her eyes glassy. 

He didn't realize that he was leaning into her. As soon as he realized, he jerked back, so did she. She immediately turned her head to the window and focused on something. Michael knew immediately she had probably had a million images going through her head of ways Machire could torture them. He knew the vial things that were passing by her head. And he knew she was trying to cry. The moment he met her, (like really knew her) he knew she hated being weak, hated crying. Hated showing it, even more. And seeing her trying to not cry in front of him, made him sad.

"Willow," He said, and Willow -very slowly, hesitantly- turned to look at him. "You can cry." He whispered. Willow looked down and closed her eyes, and single tear streaking her pale face. That was too much for Michael, so he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

~~~~~~~~~

Willow let her head rest on his chest. She didn't like crying. No, that wasn't the way to put it, she hated crying. But, she couldn't deny that it was worth it. That she felt better in his arms, she felt safer. His heartbeat was as quick as hers, so she relaxed in his steady breath. At his steady arms.

He was the first person at RiverPlain to ever acknowledge that it was hard. He had acknowledge it was hard before Willow would admit it to herself. He was the only one who acknowledged that she was suffering. That she wasn't suffering physically, but mentally. That her family could be under the torture instruments that Machire had. That her father had.

She couldn't believe she was related to that monster, she didn't even look like him! He didn't have grey eyes, or black hair. He had dark, chiseled eyes, and pale hair. Thinking about the way she looked, made her start to wonder why Ara and Gretel looked so much like her. Was he their father, too? Ara was an exact replica of Willow (Except for much smaller, and a much rounder face), how was that possible, if they had different fathers, and looked nothing like their mother? The thought momentarily distracted her, but the thought of her little sistesr -so young- scream's plagued her mind as well.

Sometimes, Willow wondered was it a good thing to love. To care about anybody wasn't healthy for a person, was it? If she didn't care about her family, she wouldn't care, wouldn't be in pain. Sometimes, Willow wondered if love made you weaker.

As her mind raced through a lot of things, she ended up back at Michael. The way he held her close, the way she melted into him. He seemed to understand that she was sad, what she was going through. Willow had to ask, "Michael, do you have a family?"

Michael rested his chin on her hair, which made Willow have to work twice as hard to concentrate. "Yes, but they're all gone."

Willow knew immediately what gone meant. "I'm sorry," Willow whispered.

"It's fine, I was twelve. I was going to be sent away to RiverPlain that year."

"What were they like, your family?" She had to ask.

"I had a mom and a dad. I also had two brothers, one sister. We lived in the Eldorith Headquarter. Eldorith was attacked, I got away with my life, but nobody else did." He said, in a far away manner.

Willow gulped, imagining a blond, twelve year old Michael messing around with brothers, lke tigers rough-playing. And a sister (probably as beautiful as him) standing back and smiling. She imagined his parents, his mother with blond hair and father with green eyes. She imagined what it must of been like to have been attacked. The people screaming (Well, Ganashes probably won't screaming, but maybe the children were), and Michael running out. She tried to imagine Michael sad and crying. But, she couldn't bring herself to. First, because she couldn't imagine Michael crying, he wouldn't cry, even at twelve. And second, she couldn't bear to imagine it, even if she wanted to.

"Michael?" She asked, tilting her head up and looking up at him. He looked down, and their faces were very, very close. She could feel his breath on her skin. "Do you think love make us weaker?"

Michael looked at her for a moment, "Does love make us weaker?" He mused. "Yes it does. But, it does more than that, too. It makes us brave."

She thought through his answer.

Love makes us braver.

She couldn't help but agree with him.

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Don't quit on me, next chapter will have more action.

Please tell me if this Chpt. cheesy or stupid. Be honest, please. I have a voice in my head saying, 'You need to re-write it.'

So please give honest feedback, I don't know, I feel like this chapter was meaningless. Please, tell me if I should add something....

Thanks, hope you enjoyed it, though.

-I.B.