Wow, big thanks to all of my reviewers! I couldn't keep the smile off my face when I read them, and it inspired me to write even faster. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

trudes193- I've never seen Retreat...never heard of it before you asked it, actually. Looks interesting- I'll have to check it out. And I loved your review- you'll just have to wait and see if your fears turn out to be true.

Jesscah- I've heard guys say that to me all the time- it seemed like a very Jackson mindset to me. Of course, they say it more like "The problem with you women is that you just like to complain. Men like to fix the problem. If you don't want a solution, don't talk to me." As for the phone thing, I'm really annoying to watch movies with because I just pick and pick at the little details (why is this happening, etc).

Medisha- You've been totally spoiled, because I usually update this story in the middle of the night here- like this one! :D The running of hands through hair is my favorite guy-thinking habit. And yes, Cillian doing it would be difficult to resist!

EmpireX- Hope the carpet turned out nice and clean. I'm with you with the tiptoe around the tulips fics. I need some blood and guts, filthy language, and some dirty behavior or it's just not fun sometimes.

CloverX11- I'm horrible at beating around the bush. Hope you continued to enjoy the story as much as you did the first chapter.

Brunette bulma- You're right, that's a completely reasonable interpretation. I saw more "what the fuck?" in his face, but it's just my opinion. :) You are totally welcome to share the story on Facebook- it would be an honor. Let me know what people think unless they hate it. And by the way- everytime I read your screenname, it reminds me of a conversation I had with my ex about Dragonball Evolution where I ranted on and on about how Bulma's hair is BLUE. Your name always makes me smile.

On with the angst!

Chapter 11: Unfathomed Reminiscence

"My parents?" Jackson groaned. For all the things for her to start with...He thought about saying no- not because he didn't want to talk about it- he didn't- but because of all people, he didn't want Lisa to know this story. Any kindness she had showed him would disappear. He would be back to being a monster to her.

But he knew that was precisely why he had to tell her. If he really wanted her to give him a chance, he knew he had to give her all (or at least more of) the facts. If she took off running, it was for the best. But, it would be on his terms. "Alright. I'll tell you if you promise me two things. One- you don't interrupt me with questions, and two- when I'm done, don't press for more. Deal?" Lisa thought for a moment, and nodded.

Jackson didn't say anything at first. He had never told anyone about his parents before. The people who knew had been involved at some point. Where do I even start? "I guess they were normal parents for the most part. Dad was a cop, Mom was a kindergarten teacher. Growing up was great. Normal small town stuff, I guess." Jackson laughed. "Tiny town, actually. Maybe a thousand people. Caleb and I spent a lot of time with our dad, especially at the range. We got our first guns for our 13th birthday. Dad was a huge gun nut."

Jackson grinned. His mom had been so pissed about it. She and his dad had argued for so long that it was too late to go to the diner for dinner, and they had sandwiches instead.

"When I was 15, my dad got in a pretty bad car accident," he continued. "He couldn't walk well, and they dismissed him from the force. Well, he got bitter, which I get, I guess." Jackson's face flushed. "Leese, it's kind of a cliché. Are you sure you really want to hear this?" He sighed when she nodded.

"He drank. He got violent, starting beating the shit out of my mom fairly often. Never touched me or Caleb...probably because we would hit back. I never understood why she didn't fight back."

Jackson frowned. He had asked his mom a few times why she allowed his dad's abuse. She always said the same thing: 'He's going through a hard time, Jackson.' He hated her for that. He remembered all the nights he would lay in his room, listening to the screams and her cries, and resent her for every moment of it. Why was she so weak? Why didn't she leave? He would have gone with her, and he knew that Caleb would as well. The brothers had talked about it frequently. They would have left on their own, but they couldn't abandon her, even if they despised her for allowing the abuse.

He glanced at Lisa, who was looking at him in horror. He wondered if she wanted to ask why he and Caleb never helped her. "It was her fight, Leese. It's hard to explain...it's just...she was supposed to be stronger than that. They argued a lot before, and she had never backed down. Suddenly it's like she's a doormat, and how can you help someone like that?" He could tell that his explanation didn't help her understand at all, but he couldn't help that. She wasn't there, and she couldn't know what it was like for the brothers.

"It went on for a year, and I just...I don't know, I snapped. I was tired of hearing her screams. They were like nails on a chalkboard. I mean, do you have any idea what it's like to listen to someone scream and cry and see the bruises and blood, and know that this person, this person you used to respect and love, isn't ever going to help herself?" Lisa put her hand on his, but Jackson yanked it away. "No, I don't care," he snapped, "I didn't pity her. I despised her. I despised him. I hated who they both had become- fucked up, pathetic versions of the people they had been."

Jackson could remember it like it was yesterday. Caleb and Jackson came home from a party. Caleb was still on the phone with his girlfriend and stayed in the garage, telling Jackson that he would be inside in a minute. Jackson walked into the house and saw his mom pinned against the wall, tears and blood streaming down her cheeks. The crippled shell of his dad was yelling in her face about how she thought he was weak. He would show her how strong he was. Jackson shook his head and walked right through the room, past the scene without a glance. 'No, I'll show you how weak you really are. Both of you,' he silently swore to himself. Jackson walked calmly into his bedroom and grabbed the gun he had received three months prior, walking back to the living room. 'This shit ends now.'

Jackson entered the room as his dad struck his mom in the face, sending her crashing to the floor. Without hesitation, he fired two bullets into the man's heart, feeling nothing but satisfaction as the body hit the ground. He did the asshole a favor by putting him out of his misery. Jackson turned and pointed the gun at his mom, rolling his eyes as she cowered in fear.

"I shot him," he told Lisa, "Just killed him right there." Lisa's jaw dropped.

"So you weren't joking..." she murmured. Jackson smiled a bit.

"Pretty good memory, Leese," he commented, assuming that she was referring to his comment in the bar about killing his parents.

"So, what happened to your mom?" Lisa asked. Jackson gave her a warning look, silently reminding her of her promise to not ask questions.

"Was that so hard?" he screamed at her as he heard Caleb yelling for him to put the gun down. His brother must have heard the gunshots, and was running toward him. Jackson turned to look at Caleb, keeping the gun on the trembling woman. "Why? She's a goddamn coward!" he spat, turning back to stare at her. Just as he expected, she said nothing, just cried.

Jackson flinched when he felt Caleb's hand on his arm. "Jackson...look at me," Caleb calmly said. "Put it down. Killing her won't help anything." Jackson grimaced, and dropped his arm to his side with a frustrated sigh. He tossed the gun on the ground in front of his mom. "Fuck you for letting it get this far," he hissed at her.

His mom got to her feet. "Leave," she ordered. "Get out of here. I'll tell the cops I did it." Jackson clenched his jaw in rage.

"Why would you do that?" Caleb asked her as Jackson expressed his opposition to her asinine proposal.

"Do you think any of us can get away with this?" she asked, picking up the gun. "He's still a cop." Jackson knew she was right. They could tell the authorities everything that had happened, but when it boiled down to it, they were civilians who had shot a respected police officer. His 'retirement' didn't matter one bit- in fact, it would probably get him sympathy.

"No way," he replied. "I did it, and I'll deal with it." His mom pointed the gun at him, a rage in her eyes that he hadn't seen in many years.

"Caleb, get him out of here!" she yelled, crossing the room to the phone. Jackson protested, but found himself getting dragged toward the front door. He struggled to stay there, but ultimately lost.

As he was pulled out the door, he heard her say over the phone, "This is Cathy Rippner. I just killed my husband..."

"She took the fall for me. Tried to claim battered woman defense. The court ruled against her because he was physically handicapped, and she never tried to get away with him the legal way...restraining orders and whatnot. She was sentenced for 15 years, but they let her out on parole a few years ago." Jackson paused. "She made it clear that she wants nothing to do with me or Caleb."

Lisa frowned. "I'm sorry," she said.

Jackson shook his head. "I'm not," he snapped. "You know...after it happened, I waited for it to hit me that I had killed my dad and my mom was in prison for it. But it never really did. He wasn't my dad anymore. She wasn't my mom. As far as I was concerned, they were both dead."

Lisa's hand found its way to his again, and this time, he didn't pull away.

"Caleb and I went to live with our uncle, who, we found out, worked for the agency. When we were out of college, we joined, and that's it." The two sat in silence. Lisa was obviously taking in everything she had heard.

"If I don't ask questions, can I say something?" she asked quietly. Jackson thought she was being sarcastic, but when he glanced at her, he could see in her eyes that she was really asking permission. She seemed to understand that it was a big deal that he told her any of this, and for some reason, it helped put Jackson at ease.

"I think that it bothers you more than you admit," Lisa said. Jackson said nothing, and she continued. "I think it affected you a lot, actually." Jackson knew he should probably tell her to stop trying to analyze him, remind her that she wasn't Dr. Phil, but he didn't. He knew what was coming. Caleb had tried to do the same thing, as had his uncle. "I think that's why you're a bad shot, and that's why you make jokes about them- didn't you tell me dark humor was a coping mechanism? Well, so is hatred. I think you convinced yourself that you hated your mom so it wouldn't bother you that she was getting hurt, to avoid having to confront your dad. By hating both of them, you could avoid getting involved, and when you did get involved, it was easy. And it was easy to take when your mom disappeared from your life because of your actions...wasn't it?"

Jackson blanched. If it wasn't so irritating, he might be impressed with her. He had wondered the same thing a few times, but dismissed it. Truth is what you tell yourself, so as far as he was concerned, he did hate them eventually. The reasons why didn't matter. "I think that hatred is why you are so good at your job. You see your targets the same way that you saw your mom. They're weak, not unable to help themselves, but unwilling." She paused, obviously expecting Jackson to argue. He didn't because he was well aware that she was right. "That's why you weren't very angry when I tried to sabotage you on the plane." He knew that was probably right as well. Obviously, he hadn't sat and analyzed why, but as the plane traveled toward Miami, he had respected Lisa more and more. He couldn't exactly be thrilled that she was trying to ruin his plans at every turn, but he had been impressed by the way she fought back.

"I think it's why you got so angry when I accused you of setting me up. It reminded you of your mom taking the fall for what you did. I think you still blame yourself for it." That, Jackson hadn't expected. Yes, it had made him angry when she said those things to him, but he hadn't been sure exactly where the anger came from. As far as he had been concerned, it was an odd moment of irrational rage. He was so lost in thought that he almost missed Lisa's next statement.

"I think that's why we're here, why you're helping me. This is your redemption for what happened to your mother. When she finally stood up for herself, it sealed her fate. Like me."

Jackson sat in stunned silence. He noticed that Lisa's hand was still holding his when she gave it a light squeeze.

"That was...very astute, Leese," he finally got out, although it was colder than he had meant to be. He couldn't look at her. Her analysis was brief, but it left a lot for him to think about. When Caleb had asked him why he wanted to help her, Jackson hadn't been able to give a satisfactory answer. 'Because I do,' had been his response, and Caleb had thankfully interpreted it as 'I don't want to talk about it.' He hadn't been lying, either. Until now, the only reason he wanted to help Lisa was that he didn't want to see her dead because of something he had done. It hadn't made sense, because there were a lot of people dead because of him.

"You were right, Jackson," Lisa said with a laugh. "I feel like I know you a lot better now." Jackson grinned in spite of himself. She was probably right about that, too. "Now I just need to figure out why you're so obsessed with the truth."

Jackson shrugged. "That's an easy one," he replied. Lisa waited for him to go on. "My girlfriend in college cheated on me. First love, broken heart, all that shit." He ran a hand through his hair. "It was probably for the best, though. I actually thought I wanted to marry her." He laughed bitterly. Jackson had known for a long time now that marriage was not in his future, and he was more than okay with that. He knew now that he hadn't loved her, but it didn't make the pain of betrayal any less harsh.

"Oh," Lisa replied, sounding a little let down. He looked at her quizzically. "Well, that's it? I thought it would be something bigger than that." She laughed. "That was what, seven years ago? Haven't you had enough good relationships to get over it yet?"

Jackson frowned. "I haven't had one since," he replied. "It's not a good idea in my line of work. You can either date someone and have them either wonder why you're always leaving- little hint: women hear 'business trips' and they think you're cheating- or you can make the mistake of telling them...I don't know anyone who's ever tried, or you can date someone from the agency. Also a big mistake. Typical office romance- it's all shop talk and 'oh my God, are they going to die today?' Plus, deception is part of our job...it makes trust difficult."

"Caleb and Cheryl managed it," Lisa retorted.

Jackson scoffed. "Caleb was an idiot," he told her, "Yeah, they're fine now, well, except for her lying about her double life, but for a while, it was a mess. That's why Cheryl transferred to Robert. Too much drama."

"So you're telling me you haven't had a girlfriend in seven years?" Lisa asked, looking at him in disbelief.

Jackson nodded. "I've had...nights," he admitted, blushing slightly. Not because he was ashamed, but because he doubted Lisa would understand. He had been with many nameless women, all attractive but he did not have feelings for any of them. They were just a convenience. He meant to explain further, but instead remained silent as the car behind him caught his attention. He looked in the rear-view mirror, and his eyes narrowed. The car behind them was too close, and there was plenty of room for them to pass. He sighed and moved to the left lane, hoping they were one of those drivers who just refused to pass and made the vehicle ahead of them move.

To his dismay, the blue car followed right behind him. He moved lanes again, and the car mimicked his actions. Jackson could hear Lisa talking next to him, but he automatically tuned her out as he confirmed that they were definitely being followed. There were two men in the car, both staring straight ahead. He could almost feel their eye contact in the mirror. Were these the Russians Cheryl had been talking about? Two men? It would have been laughable if he didn't know that the men were highly trained and the woman next to him was highly not. She was a liability. Maybe.

Jackson pulled off at the next exit. If things were going down, he wasn't going to let it happen on the freeway with witnesses. Unsurprisingly, the blue car followed him. By this time, Lisa had realized that Jackson wasn't listening to her. She glanced in the passenger-side mirror.

"Are they following us?" she asked, nervous. Jackson nodded. He turned off the frontage road, leading the car onto a deserted-looking back road. Lisa began again, but he motioned for her to be quiet, analyzing the situation. The road was straight for as far as he could see.

"Leese, listen to me," he said, turning to her. He moved the seat back as far as it could go and shifted his legs over to the far left of the seat, turning on the cruise control. "I need you to move over here and take the wheel. Stay low. When you're here, I'm going to turn around. All you have to do is avoid crashing and listen to what I tell you to do."

Thankfully, Lisa seemed to understand that his tone was not one that invited questions, and quickly slid over to squeeze between Jackson and the steering wheel. It was a bit of a tight fit, but Jackson managed to maneuver so he was facing the car, his back to Lisa. He quickly tore off his coat and rummaged through his bag. "Now speed up as fast as you can go without losing control. Don't drive in a straight line, but don't be predictable. We can't let them shoot the car." Bullet holes might pass in New York, but a car with Minnesota plates with bullet holes would attract attention in Missouri and Oklahoma. Lisa did as she was told, and Jackson braced himself with his thighs as the car started to sway somewhat violently.

He took a deep breath, rolling down the front and back seat windows on their side. "Ready?"

I hope Jackson's story wasn't too much of a cliché. Up next, I get to write my first action sequence! Review if you're ready to see Jackson get his game face on!

IMPORTANT: As a precaution, as of chapter 12, the chapter will be rated "M". If you haven't added the story to your alerts list and you don't usually check the "M" fics, I would recommend adding it now to avoid missing the next updates.