Disclaimer: I own no part of Red Eye, and am in no way earning any profit off this story. It is fan fiction, and is written for enjoyment, not monetary gain.

Phrases in bold indicate voices over a loudspeaker; specifically the terrorists.

Phrases in italics are Lisa's communications with Jackson.

1:45 am.

Wednesday.

Much to Jackson's surprise (and immense relief, though he'd never admit it for any personal reasons), they wrapped Lisa up in a blanket and simply put her back in her seat. He sat down beside her, sighing when he realized that yet another mission had been ruined by one woman's stubbornness.

He resolved that next time he'd find someone else to haunt and do it for him.

She began to twitch and murmur not long afterwards, and eventually she opened her eyes. He looked over at her with no small amount of relief.

"Leese – " he almost choked as he fought back the urge to say thank God you're all right.

Her brow furrowed lightly, and then she sighed and snuggled under the blanket for warmth.

I win. she mouthed to him, grinning a little crazily.

"Did you hit your head when you passed out?" Jackson scowled, good mood flying immediately out the window. "This flight isn't over yet. You're still going to kill him."

Not under their supervision, I'm not. she mouthed, shaking her head. She found, if she directed her thoughts and narrowed her eyes, she could almost send her messages telepathically to him. And now that you don't have a bomb threat, it's practically pointless.

He gritted his teeth. "Don't you dare test me. He has to die."

Why? she mouthed. Why does this guy have to die? Why do you want him dead so badly?

"He's a spy. He has information and it's critical that the government – does – not – find – out." Jackson hissed through his teeth.

Why? Is it personal? Does it have something to do with you? she communicated, barely moving her lips, yet somehow knowing Jackson could hear – and understand – every word.

He drew back into himself and said nothing.

It IS personal. she blinked, eyes going wide. What are you not telling me?

"Shut up." he snarled, turning round in his seat and crossing his arms across his chest tightly. "It's none of your business."

She fought the urge to smirk. But right now, it's very much my business, because my business is very much about you.

Jackson buried his face in his hands. "Not – fucking – funny."

"All right people, we're gonna land in a few minutes. Everybody make sure your seat belt is done up."

Lisa struggled out of the blanket and did up her seat belt, wrapping the blanket back around her shoulders, trying to get warm again.

"It's still cold…" she murmured out loud.

"Oh, shall I find you a hot-water bottle? Maybe some tea?" Jackson rolled his eyes. He jerked and jumped slightly as the plane shifted and took a rather steep dive. "Hurrrgh…"

Lisa's eyes widened and she repressed the urge to giggle. You can get airsick? Can you throw up, if you're a ghost?

"Oh shut up!" he yelped, clutching the sides of the seat as the plane lurched and bounced, finally hitting the ground and coming to a stop. "Lord above…"

And lead us not into the bathroom, but deliver us from nausea…

"Shut the FUCK up!" he roared, bent nearly double and clutching at his stomach. "It isn't fucking airsickness! Something else is wrong!"

Her grin became a concerned frown. Jack?

He was shivering slightly; a few beads of sweat trickled down his brow and fell onto his trousers, leaving dark stains.

"Jack…you're bleeding." she whispered aloud, eyes wide with shock and horror.

He pressed his hands to his face; his tears and sweat came away the brackish – but still recognizable red-brown – color of old blood.

"Shit…" he whispered, his eyes growing as big as saucers. "Wh-what's happening to me?"

To Be Continued…

Just in case you're counting, this is the shortest chapter...with 666 words...not including this explanation...just in case!