1The next morning Lisa awoke, feeling slightly calm but at the same time annoyed. It took her a few minutes to remember why, but then remembered last night's moonlight rendezvous with Jackson.

Lisa traipsed out to the kitchen in her pajamas where she found Jackson on the couch reading a book. He set it down and stood up when she walked in, lightly taking her arm.

"Don't touch me," she growled, recoiling in disgust. Jackson sighed.

"Back to square one, I guess," Jackson said. "Guess you trust me as little as I trust you. Tell me, Leese, what will make you trust me again?"

"Kinda hard to trust someone with no personality," she retorted.

"I have a personality!" he snapped.

"Really? News to me," Lisa feigned surprise. Jackson sighed, stretching his arms out in a 'Take me' gesture. "What do you want to know? I'm an open book, Lisa."

"Everything," she whispered, sitting on the couch.

"Shoot."

"Um...what's your favorite book?"

"Of Mice and Men."

"Movie?"

Jackson hesitated. "A Love Story," he grumbled. Lisa choked back her laughter.

"Sport?"

"Hate sports."

"Band?"

"The Shins," Lisa was shocked. It was scary how much they had in common.

"Food and drink?"

"Spaghetti and white wine."

"Why won't you ever admit how you feel, and what you're like, who you are," Lisa asked, fed up with their game of twenty questions. Jackson looked sharply at her.

"Showing and admitting character flaws shows weakness," he said, almost as if he were reciting part of a speech.

"No, Jackson," Lisa responded quietly. "It shows that you're human?"

"What are you, a fucking psychologist?" Jackson snapped.

"I'm just trying to figure out what's going on inside your head so I can make an attempt at a relationship," she yelled back. He sighed, broken, and collapsed in the couch. There was a long moment of silence before anyone spoke again.

"I lied to you," he murmured.

"I thought Jack Rippner never lied," she retorted meanly.

"Listen, do you want to hear this or not?" he said, exasperation edging his voice.

"Sorry," Lisa apologized. "What did you lie about?"

"My parents...didn't die in a car crash. My dad was a drunk and a drug addict...he beat...everyone in my whole family...and one day..." his voice cracked. He looked painfully at the ceiling. "My mom killed herself. She wouldn't take it anymore. She snapped," his eyes began to water slightly.

"Jackson," Lisa said softly, actually feeling part of the pain he was feeling. "I-I don't know what to say."

Jackson continued on, practically oblivious to her presence in the room. "One day...I came home from school to see Jed leaning over my dad's...body...with...with a knife. He whispered, 'Sh, Jack.' He was only thirteen...I didn't tell anyone...didn't..." his head was in his hands now. "He told me...it was my namesake...I would turn out to be just like him..."

"Jackson, what are you talking about?" Lisa asked quietly.

"My dad," Jackson muttered. "Jackson Rippner Sr. I don't care...about being compared to Jack the Ripper. It's him, the child and wife beater, who's name makes me cringe."

Lisa didn't say anything. She felt that was best.

"My brother...kills for fun. Kills cause he's bored, for other people. Hell, he made a business out of killing...ever since my dad. He strong-armed me, the Rippner charm, into joining him...while he was a skilled murderer, he has a tendency to frighten people before they meet him...to lure the targets," Jackson shook his head. "I never wanted any of it...never...I wanted...to be a history teacher. Never he...he should be named Jack the Ripper, not me!" Jackson screamed. Lisa lightly touched his arm and noticed he was shaking. His demons were finally escaping him.

"I won't...ever...be able to change from what I am," he cried. Then his voice was hushed. "A killer."

"Jackson," Lisa finally spoke, taking his head in her arms, gently hugging his body. "It's okay. It's allright."

"I will always be a killer," Jackson spoke finally. "Because I can't get rid of him. He's my brother."

Lisa took him in, leaned into him, finally understanding, her tears becoming a blanket for his own.

Jackson finally fell asleep with his head in Lisa's lap. She covered him with an afghan from the couch and smoothed back his hair, and then fell asleep herself.

"Lisa," Jackson murmured softly in her ear. "Leese." Lisa groaned and opened her eyes, realizing that she had somehow ended up with her head on a pillow on the couch.

"I made you some lunch, Leese," Jackson's soothing voice eased her awake.

"Thanks," she croaked, sitting up and stretching.

"Think of it as repayment for listening to me blubber," he said, trying to hid his embarrassment he felt at admitting his character flaws. In his opinion, men were supposed to be strong, forceful, always in control, not crying to their girlfriends.

"We all have our demons," Lisa smiled, sitting down at the table.

"Just so you know," Jackson told her, handing her a plate. "You're the only one I've told about that."

Lisa smiled. "Thank-you."