Author's Note: Wow, guys. 13 reviews for just a little prologue? I am awed and flattered by your interest and encouragement for this story! A special thanks to each and every one who reviewed for the prologue! I hope that the rest of the story doesn't disappoint.

Chapter One

You're Not Here

-x-

So now what should I do, I'm strung out, addicted to you,

My body it aches, now that you're gone,

My supply fell through,

You gladly gave me everything you had and more,

You craved my happiness,

When you make me feel joy it makes you smile,

But now I feel your stress,

Love was never meant to be such a crazy affair, no

And who has time for tears,

Never thought I'd sit around and cry for your love, 'till now...

­­

Akira Yamaoka, "You're Not Here", Silent Hill 3

-x-x-x-x-

"I may have to steal you."

That was the promise that he had made her, and Lisa held him to his word, waiting for his sudden arrival back into her life every day following the red eye incident. And every day, she was proven wrong, and all the energy she put into waiting and worrying went to waste.

Life eventually moved on. The first few weeks following the destruction of one of the Lux Atlantic's most luxurious suites gave Lisa little time to think or worry about much else, including Jackson's miraculous disappearing act from the Cedar Medical Center hospital. Aside from giving numerous of the same reports to police chiefs, specialist detectives and even a few FBI agents, Lisa was completely immersed in getting the hotel back on-line. This meant non-stop meetings to discuss issues such as insurance claims, damage reports, and unhappy customers who demanded compensation for the horrific incident. The phones never seemed to stop ringing, and Lisa's nerves were as frazzled as bad electrical wiring, and just as unstable.

Sleep offered little sanctuary. When she would have hoped that the eighteen-hour days would put her out like a light when she eventually stumbled into bed – usually still in her work clothes – she was plagued with nightmares and hallucinations that even her exhaustion could not extinguish. She no longer dreamt of the parking lot. Now she was back in the airplane bathroom, a pair of icy blue eyes bearing down on her as a strong hand lovingly suffocated the breath from her throat…

Lisa always awoke with a cry, drenched in cold sweat as she blindly groped for the field hockey stick she kept by her bed. Her room would always be empty, though, embraced by the shadows of early dawn, but it gave her no comfort. She knew he was still out there, biding his time, waiting for that moment of perfect revenge…

But he never returned. The world kept turning.

Weeks gradually passed into months. Six months following the red eye, Lisa stopped jumping at shadows, she was able to go out alone at night again, and she didn't look over her shoulder quite as often as she used to. Once things calmed down at the hotel, she fell back into her old workaholic habits, only this time around, she made sure that she had more time to herself. She was reading again, mostly in a hot bubble bath surrounded by an army of aroma therapeutic candles. Once a week, she made a point to go out with Cynthia for drinks at a local bar, or over to her father's house for dinner. She still didn't talk to her mother as much as she should have, and she still ordered sea breezes, and she still cooked scrambled eggs at three AM when she couldn't sleep.

She still dreamed of him, though, but only on nights following a particularly bad day at work. Nine months after the red eye, it was even less than that.

The seasons turned. The vacation holidays came and went. Her father still called no less than twice a day to check on her. Then, one day while standing at the reception desk, Lisa could not ignore the strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck, as though her brain was trying to remember something important that she unconsciously misplaced. It wasn't until the first wave of customer check-ins began to arrive that she realized…

It had been exactly one year to the day since the red eye flight from Dallas to Miami.

The revelation hit her harder than she every expected it would. The world reeled beneath her feet, and Lisa gasped as though all the air had been knocked from her lungs. The customers that she had been helping – a sweet elderly couple – looked at her with concern, asking if she was alright, before Lisa politely but hurriedly excused herself and all but ran to the employee bathroom.

Lisa bent over one of the bathroom's numerous porcelain sinks, breathing deeply, trying to compose herself. With shaking hands she turned one of the spigots, collecting the ice-cold water in her hands before splashing it on her face, clearing her senses.

Calm down, Lisa, calm down… She had no reason to act in such a foolish manner like she did, but when she realized what day it was, a horrible ominous feeling fell over her like a shadow, making her skin crawl in such a way it felt like it would strip right off her bones. For the briefest of moments, she was so convinced that Jackson was sneaking up behind her to steal her away, just as he had promised, that she was overwhelmed with a sense of the utmost panic. But she was being stupid, she told herself as she splashed another handful of water on her face, feeling the icy droplets soak into her hairline and drip off her chin. Just because it was the one-year anniversary since the red eye did not mean that Jackson was lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. She had felt the exact same way when she had decided to visit Jackson in the hospital two months following the flight only to discover that he had already left, that horrible sense that he would show up back into her life at any given time…

But he never did, and Lisa had not seen hide nor hair of him since he was taken away after her father shot him. Besides, she couldn't see him the type of villain to mark the anniversary in such a way. It seemed horribly cheesy, like something out of a bad horror movie sequel.

"Lisa?"

Lisa turned towards the bathroom door, mid-drying off her face with a paper towel to see her strawberry-blonde co-worker enter the bathroom, concern written all over her face. "Lisa? Are you okay? The Masons said that you took off from the desk like a bat out of hell."

Lisa finished drying her face, forcing a smile. "Yeah…yeah Cynthia, I'm alright."

"Are you sure? You look horrible."

"Yes, I'm sure." Lisa responded with an inward grimace at Cynthia's repeated question. "I just… I don't know what happened. I realized that today is a year since the red eye flight, when the Keefes were almost killed… I don't know why, but I just freaked. I'm alright now. It just caught me off guard."

"Really?" Cynthia blinked, astounded. "It's been a year already?" Lisa nodded, surprised at the passage of time as well. She couldn't decide on whether it felt like it happened a very long time ago, or only happened yesterday. Maybe it was a little of both, depending on which way she looked at it. The two women remained silent for another moment longer, Lisa slowly drying off her hands with another paper towel as Cynthia looked lost in thought. Finally, the redhead grinned broadly, spreading her arms in a triumphant gesture. "Well, you know what this means, right?"

Lisa looked at her, one eyebrow raised in question.

"It means it's time for a celebration drink!"

Lisa laughed dryly, throwing away the towel. "Now how in the world did you come up with that conclusion?"

"Think about it, Lisa. So much bad stuff could have happened on that night, and I'm not just talking about the Keefes. But you're still here; you won, when so many other people would have just keeled over! How do you think I would have done if I had been in your place? There aren't many people out there who are as strong or brave as you are, Lisa Reisert. So we're going to go celebrate it whether you want to or not!"

Lisa smiled brightly, suddenly in a much better mood. Regardless that her reasoning was ridiculous, leave it to Cynthia to make her feel better. Still, the realization of the significance, tagged with the horrific memories had Lisa's nerves frayed like old rope. "I think I'll take you up on that, Cynthia. A drink sounds good, actually."

"Great!" Cynthia exclaimed, grinning triumphantly. "You get off at eight, right? I'll meet you at the usual place then. And if you don't show up, I'll come to your house and drag you there myself, kay?"

Lisa couldn't help a laugh, only this time, it was genuine. "Sounds like a deal."

Cynthia left the bathroom with a bounce to her step. Lisa sighed, turning back to the mirror to straighten out his slightly disheveled hair back into place before heading back out to the lobby herself. It truly amazed her how much her co-worker had changed in the past year. When Cynthia first came to work for the Lux Atlantic, not more than four months before the attempted Keefe assassination, she had been so shy and meek that Lisa had a hard enough time getting her to just talk to the customers, and every time she became flustered, it was usually followed by a problem with the computers. The erasing of the Taylor's reservation on the night of the red eye flight had not been a first. Her involvement with the incident, as well as saving the Keefe's lives gave the younger woman a new sense of self-worth that boosted her confidence at work through the roof. Although the Taylors never returned to the Lux Atlantic, Lisa had no doubt that Cynthia's profound new mastery over her job and all its inner workings that she would knock them down their superiority ladder by a few rungs.

The rest of the day was thankfully uneventful, and while Lisa no longer believed that Jackson was waiting to pounce from behind some random corner (the mental image actually became quite amusing after a while, truth be told), she still jumped at the smallest things, and would have rather not go into the break room alone. When she was finally relieved from her shift at eight o'clock that evening, she made a point to engage in small conversations with a fellow receptionist just to make sure she had company when she walked to her car. And once she was in her car, with all the doors locked, of course, she called her father, just to "check in". If Joe had also realized the significance of that day's date, then he made no mention of it, but that still did not stop him from asking if she was "sure if she was okay" two or three times before the conversation was over.

Christ, Lisa thought to herself as folded her phone and put it back into her purse. Nearly thirty years old and I'm still calling home to let Daddy know where I am with friend and that I'll be late coming home. It's almost as if high school never ended.

"The usual place" that Cynthia had referred to was a small, relatively quiet night club located just a few blocks away from the Lux Atlantic resort in the middle of downtown Miami. Le Cœur Solitaire. A hopelessly romantic name for the hottest single's bar in all Miami. Lonely Heart. A fitting name for those seeking companionship, even if it was only for one night. When Cynthia first began to bring Lisa here as their friendship grew, Lisa had immediately known what the smaller blonde had been up to.

"There's no harm in looking, Lisa." Cynthia had told her with those big, innocent doe-eyes when Lisa looked around at the interior of the bar with open disdain. Not that Le Cœur Solitaire was a dirty place by any means; it was its purpose that Lisa was opposed to. She was in no position to start a relationship, nor did she want to be involved with anyone at the time, the red eye and the rape put aside. She was too busy piecing her life back together to get it entangled with someone else and their schedules and problems.

"Besides," Cynthia continued. "You never know what might happen. Maybe the next random meeting will turn out for the better. Imagine; the man you could spend the rest of your life with could be sitting right next to you, but you would never know that if you spend the rest of your life hiding behind the reception desk."

Yeah, I tried that once. No happily ever after there, that's for damn sure. Lisa thought bitterly as she stirred the contents of her sea breeze absent-mindedly, watching the crystal beads of condensation run down the sides of the glass, thinking back on her past conversation with Cynthia and a certain time and encounter before that.

As usual, Le Cœur Solitaire was nearly full to its max capacity, very near overflowing with people milling about the bar, or draped across the plush velvet couches lined along the subtle, creamy-colored walls. Each circular, candle-lit table was occupied by a small group of women, or by a man and a woman deeply submerged in the first awkward conversations of first meeting. As Lisa watched, she couldn't help but vaguely wonder, did they know if this first encounter would result in a one-night stand, a series of dates, or would they eventually be walking down the aisle together? It seemed only time and fate would know the answer to that, which was perhaps the one of the greatest questions in the universe.

I can tell you what wouldn't happen. He wouldn't gain her trust, then hold her hostage on an airplane with her father's life on the line if she didn't make the call…

Stop that.

Lisa took a deep drink from her sea breeze, drowning out the memory of piercing blue eyes with the sharp bite of vodka and the citrus sweetness of the grapefruit.

"Hey you," Cynthia said, sliding next onto the empty barstool beside Lisa, her own drink still in hand. Judging by the rosy coloring in Cynthia's face and the slight glazed look in her eyes, Lisa guessed she was already on her third drink. One more and she wouldn't be able to string two coherent words together. Another one after that… Well, it wouldn't have been the first time Lisa would have to take Cynthia home. "Feeling better yet?"

Lisa shrugged half-heartedly. "I'm not sure."

Cynthia frowned, wavering slightly on the stool. "You're still not thinking about that are you?"

Lisa looked at her friend, a small, inwardly ridiculing smile playing at the corners of her lips, with a slight twinge of sadness in her deep green eyes. "It's not something you easily forget about, Cynthia."

Her friend still continued to frown, but not because she looked upset, but rather as though she were contemplating something, but having a hard time grasping whatever she was searching for. "Are you thinking about the red eye flight… Or are you thinking about him, Lisa?"

Lisa choked on her current sip of sea breeze, upsetting the glass just enough so that it created a small shower of the pale, smoky liquid over the highly polished bar surface. "Am…am I thinking about… God no, Cynthia! Why would I be thinking about him… After he…"

"Hey, I'm not saying I blame you!" Cynthia said defensively, and Lisa paused, confused by what her friend was implying. How would she know? Jackson's picture was never shown on the television or any of the magazine articles, so how would she know about those blue eyes, or the features that were so strikingly handsome that you almost didn't notice until you really stopped to look at them… "If that had happened to me, I know I would probably be all freaked out today too, as well as any other time before that."

Lisa released the breath she was holding. No, of course Cynthia wouldn't assume that she hadn't been thinking of Jackson in terms of what happened on the plane, or the horrific ordeals and acts of violence that had taken place after they landed in Miami. She would have properly guessed that Lisa was haunted by the delicate balance her father's life hung in, when in actuality her thoughts kept returning to the bar in the Dallas airport. And before that, in the check-in line, when Jackson Rippner was still a completely different person than the Jack Rippner on the plane once they were in the air.

"Besides, I got something that'll help take your mind off that." Cynthia continued, changing the subject to something a little lighter. Lisa, however, felt her stomach drop. She knew exactly what was coming. "You know that guy I've been talking to? Well, he has a friend here who thinks you're hot."

Bingo.

Risking a glance, Lisa looked past Cynthia's shoulder, over towards the tall, scruffy-looking man she had been talking to all night and his shorter, stockier friend who were both looking pointedly in their direction. Lisa broke eye contact almost immediately, but the damage had already been done, and the shorter man took it as an invitation to join them at the bar.

Wonderful…

"Give him a chance, Lisa." Cynthia whispered, gather up her drink to return to the guy she had been talking it. "You never know, something good might come out of it." Lisa only responded with a tired sigh, draining the last of her sea breeze and preparing her for the inevitable battle to come.

The man who slid into the vacant bat stool next to her wasn't necessarily unappealing. In fact, he was rather handsome in a rugged sort of way, and judging by the calluses on his hand and the dirt under his fingernails, she wondered briefly if he was some sort of construction worker, but her musing went no further than that. "Hey there, sweetheart. How about I buy you another drink?"

Lisa used the straw of her drink of push around the ice cubes in her glass, listening to them tinkle against the glass. Although the uninterested act seldom worked, it never hurt to try. The brighter ones always got the hint and pretty much left her alone right away. She could already tell this would not be the case with this one. "Only if you can guess it."

The man laughed, but it was uneasy, puzzled, but he hailed the bartender's attention anyway. "Sir, another round for whatever the young lady was having."

"Well, where's the fun in that?" Lisa teased lightly, casting a glance out of the corner of her eye but just evading his gaze. She noticed that he had blue eyes, but they were hardly anything remarkable. Nothing to catch her attention right away.

The guy laughed again. "Well, you show me someone who can guess someone's drink of choice and I will be thoroughly impressed." Lisa quirked a smile, but adverted her eyes again, wondering what would happen if Jackson suddenly showed up. Sure, he probably would scare the living shit out of her with his sudden appearance, but she did not have a doubt that he would get rid of the guy with his razor-sharp wit and the intimidation in his eyes before the other man realized what was happening.

Suddenly, Lisa very much wished for that kind of savior, even if it was Jackson.

I must be going nuts.

"So, I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all by your lonesome as your friend goes off and has a good time."

"That's perfectly fine. I'm really only here for moral support."

"There's no harm in accepting a little company yourself."

"I know, but I'm really not in the mood. If I change my mind, I'll be sure to look you up."

The man frowned, finally getting taking the hint. Muttering something under his breath, he got up from the barstool and sulked away, back over to where his friend and Cynthia sat on one of the velvet couches opposite of the bar. Lisa sighed in relief, turning her attention to the untouched sea breeze. Well, that could have been worse. At least he had the sense to leave before things got ugly. It was hardly the first time she had to reject someone who showed the slightest trace of interest in her. That was one reason why she hated that Cynthia insisted that they still came here. There was always some desperate dog in the crowd whom she well knew weren't looking for a relationship, homing in on the saddest and loneliest-looking woman in the bar, hoping that they would get lucky. The fact that it was usually Lisa whom they sought out could not have been a very good sign on her behalf. At least this one had been smart enough to take the hint and not pressed her further. She was hardly in the mood, nor did she have the energy to fight.

Why was it so hard to accept a little male companionship, even if it wasn't for a little while? Although she would never admit it to anyone, Lisa could not deny that she was lonely, in more ways than one. The most human contact she had anymore was when she was at work, but if she wasn't there, or with her dad or Cynthia, then it meant long nights in her apartment, alone, watching classical movies on AMC and wondering where her life went wrong.

It hasn't been her fault. It had all been out of her control. That's what she kept telling herself over and over again. Who could blame her for being so suspicious of men anymore? And it wasn't even so much about the rape anymore, even though it still haunted her in the darkest recessions of her heart. It had only taken her a year before she stopped jumping or drawing away when one decided to approach her, making up excuses to put as much distance between them and herself as possible. A year after the rape, she found it possible to be in the presence of strangers again, but the scar on her chest was a constant reminder of that day, a skeleton in her closet that seemed to make her incapable of ever trusting anyone with her heart again. Work had been the excuse, the wall she had built around herself to not only protect herself from those awful memories, but also as a cheap way to convince herself that this was all she needed out of life. Relationships would only hinder everything she had worked so hard for.

It seemed like the best answer. That way, she wouldn't remember, save for the time when she happened to catch a glance of her scar in a mirror.

That way, she wouldn't be hurt.

But then Jackson ruined everything.

Because she had trusted him. The first in the two years following the parking lot incident. He had been so charming, so different than every other man who had ever tried to buy her dinner, or offered her a drink. No cheesy pickup lines there. And if there had been, he would have pulled it off with such grace that she would have missed it as such. She had been drawn in by his concern, his edge of dark humor, that smile when he had looked up at her when she stood in the airplane aisle…

And then he was gone, replaced by a cold-hearted assassin's manager who cared nothing for her, but only for his job that would ruin more than just the lives of the Keefes.

It was all over now, though, done and gone a year past. She had no doubt that she was the only one still affected by him.

Damn him. Is this what you wanted, Jackson? Christ, why did I have to look at his eyes after I shot him…

"Lisa?"

The concern in Cynthia's voice pulled her back to the here and now, her friend's hand on her shoulder reminding her where she was. "Lisa? Are you okay? You look like you're ready to cry."

Did she? Lisa cursed herself. The last thing she wanted to do was start crying over nothing in the middle of a bar. "I… I'm alright Cynthia. I think I just need to go."

"Oh…okay… Let me just go say goodbye to Rick first…"

"No…no, there's no reason for you to come, Cynthia. You stay here and enjoy yourself. I'll see you tomorrow at work, alright?"

"Okay, sure… But, Lisa, if you need anything, please call me, alright? You look like you just had your heart broken."

Lisa only smiled, giving Cynthia a light hug before gathering up her purse before leaving the bar, perhaps the only one to do so alone. She barely remembered the short trek back to her car, or the drive back to her apartment. She could only vaguely recall unlocking the door, then tossing her keys and purse onto the entryway table as she stepped into her dark apartment. The air was chilly from leaving the air conditioner on during the course of the day, and the modest-sized apartment itself was silent, dark, and although Lisa had finally made it feel homey and comfortable since she first moved in, tonight it felt as friendly as a tomb. A resting place for one. No one to visit. No one else to come home.

Lisa didn't bother turning on the lights. She only turned the deadbolt in the door, locking out the world, before unceremoniously kicking off her shoes and making her way to her bedroom without so much as running into a piece of furniture in the darkness. It would be another night where she wouldn't even bother to get undressed, but rather fell onto her bed as she was. She could always shower in the morning.

In the silence and the shadows of her bedroom, Cynthia's words came back to replay in her mind again.

You look like you had your heart broken.

Lisa sighed, long and sad, burying her face in her pillows as it would hide her from the world.

Maybe I have.

Unable to fight any longer, Lisa succumbed to her memories, to the darkest fantasies of what might have been, but the crushing reality of what never was to be.

-x-X-x-

Author's End Note: I don't think I've ever written a story that's more carefully choreographed than this fic is turning out to be. I think mostly it's because the Red Eye fandom is pretty much unexplored territory; I'm primarily a fantasy writer, so I'm quite literally taking this story a sentence at a time. I'm also making sure that I don't accidentally address an issue that I want to get to later. This story's going to do a lot of in-depth looks at the characters, but it has to play into the storyline and the developing relationship between Jackson and Lisa, so I don't want to jump the gun before we hit any of the juicer bits later on.

I also hope Lisa wasn't too OOC in this chapter, what with her constant reoccurring thoughts back to Jackson at all. In case you were wondering, no, Lisa doesn't assume that she was ever in love with Jackson (at least not in my opinion), but she certainly doesn't deny that she was seriously attracted to him at the airport before, in a literal sense, the shit hit the fan. That proves to be a major source of confusion for her, especially when it's been confirmed in the film that she was essentially a loner as Jackson watched her, and that we can safely assume that he was indeed the first person she opened up to since the rape. I can't imagine that that initial attraction disappeared immediately. The chemistry between the two was far too strong at the beginning of the movie, and was much more believable than between the two characters in a romance movie that are supposed to "end up" together at the end. I suppose this is why I'm so drawn to the Jackson/Lisa pairing, and why I'm so interested to see if it could work.

And, of course for the sake of the fanfic, it will, lol. I just hope I can make it believable along the way.

Jackson makes an appearance in the next chapter. I'm not sure how long it will take to get it out. Writing Jackson kind of frightens me.