"I understand that he's busy until next week! I've been trying to get a meeting with him for the last two months! ... Well, when's the first available appointment that I can schedule with him? ... No! Don't put me on hold!" The salsa music coming from the other end of the line indicated that the receptionist obviously had ignored his request. "Fuck!" Jackson shouted, snapping his phone shut.

He had tried, unsuccessfully, for the past nine weeks, to meet with his boss. Unfortunately for Jackson, the media attention caused by his failed assassination attempt at Keefe had settled disagreeably with his boss, and life had become aggravating for Jackson. It had been nine weeks since the trial ended and reporters had been trying to interview him all the way up until a week ago, when the media craving for the trial had fizzled, and began to focus on upcoming elections. That was fine with him; it allowed his life to return back to normalcy. Normalcy called for peace and quiet. And, of course, for keeping track of Lisa.

She had been to numerous doctor's appointments, never failing to miss a single one. He had watched the various video feeds from her house, which he still monitored like a hawk. It was a wonder that she hadn't figured him out yet. He paused, looking at his watch. She should be at her appointment right now. He smiled to himself and shoved his phone into his pocket, getting up off the couch. After gathering a few more necessities, he grabbed his keys, locked the front door, and headed out to his car.

-

-

-

Lisa winced as the nurse slid the needle under her skin. "You're a little dehydrated, so we're going to start you on an IV first before giving you your medication, alright?" Lisa nodded and eased back into the chair, watching the ever-constant drip from the bag ... down to the IV tube ... and into her arm. "He's attending to another patient right now, so just make yourself comfortable while we rehydrate you, and he'll be in as soon as he's finished." The nurse gave a friendly smile and left the room.

Lisa sighed and looked around the room, noting how bland and sterile it appeared. She reached into her purse with her free hand and pulled out her MP3 player, carefully sliding the ear buds in and scanning the FM stations until she caught a good signal. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and let her mind wander.

Jackson's trial had ended nearly two months ago, and instead of him ending up in jail, he had ended up being set free on a technicality. She allowed herself to harbor the conspiracy theory that he paid off the judge, but since he hadn't approached her since their last meeting in the courthouse parking lot, she wasn't worried about another run-in with him.

However, no matter how hard she tried to put it behind her, she found herself thinking, on a daily basis, about his testimony. Nurses, doctors, and other hospital staff members that she had talked to validated his story. He had brought her in to the hospital, barely alive, and saved her life. The nurse staffing the reception desk that night said he had come in, haggard and pale, carrying her nearly lifeless body, both of them covered in her blood.

"He looked absolutely terrified! But then again, you flatlined three or four times within the first ten minutes he brought you here. He just stood there, standing in the back of the room, watching them work on you. Jo-Ann was one of the ones in the room working on you at the time, and she said that he seemed to be in post-traumatic shock. That's probably why he didn't put up a fight when the cops took him in."

"So, Lisa!" Lisa jumped as her thoughts were interrupted. She looked up to see her doctor entering the room. He flipped through her chart and made a few notes. "How's your drip?" Lisa shrugged and turned down the volume on her MP3 player.

"It's ... dripping." She gave a slight smile. "They said I was a little dehydrated." Her doctor nodded and studied her for a moment.

"Have you been drinking enough fluids, like we asked?" Lisa shrugged and shook her head.

"I can get the fluids down, I just can't always keep them down. Same for solids."

"Well, that's to be expected. Let's get your medication started and then we can get you out of here so you can go home and rest up. Just make sure that you keep trying to drink as much water or juices as you can, no matter how long they stay down. If they come back up, drink some more. Gimme two secs and I'll be back with your medication."

-

-

-

Jackson walked into the hospital, shades over his tell-tale eyes. He was dressed as inconspicuously as possible, aside from the shades. He glanced around a few times, trying to find Lisa's familiar hair color. A nurse at the front desk caught his attention.

"Sir? Can I help you?" she asked, looking at the slender man in front of the desk. He turned and approached, giving her a warm smile.

"Uh yeah, actually, I was wondering if you could tell me where I can find Lisa Reisert?" He held up the bouquet of flowers he'd brought to authenticate his story. "I knew she was going to be in here today, so I figured I'd come in and bring her a little surprise." He set his car keys casually on the counter next to the bouquet of flowers as he crossed his arms and leaned on it. "Do you know what room she's in?"

"Friend or family?" the nurse asked, her fingernails clicking on the keyboard.

-

-

-

Lisa groaned as the medication in the second IV slowly seeped through her veins. She had the volume on her MP3 player turned up again, and leaned back against the bed they had moved her into. One more song, and her medication drip should be finished. Her mind had been preoccupied with the trial --- more specifically --- Jackson. Every time she came to a hospital, or passed one, she would automatically associate it with him. No wonder she wasn't loving this place.

"And here's one from Audio Adrenaline, from their Underdog CD. This is 'Good Life', on The Positive Alternative: Air1 ..."

Last song, Lisa thought. For some reason, the last song she heard during her hospital stays seemed to stick with her for the rest of the day. She looked outside as the music began, watching the rain pelt against the window. Good Life, my ass, she thought dryly.

"I've watched my dreams all fade away ... and blister in the sun
Everything I've ever had's ... unraveled and undone
I've set upon a worthless stack ... of my ambitious plans
The people that I've loved the most ... have turned their backs and ran ..."

"This is the good life ...
I've lost everything
I could ever want, ever dream of ...
This is the good life ...
I found everything
I could ever need, here in Your arms

Good, good life
Good, good life
Good, good life
Good, good life"

"Loneliness has left me searching ... for someone to love
Poverty has changed my view ... of what true riches are
Sorrow's opened up my eyes ... to see what real joy is
Pain has been the catalyst ... to my heart's happiness

This is the good life ...
I've lost everything
I could ever want, ever dream of ...
This is the good life ...
I found everything
I could ever need, here in Your arms ..."

"What good would it be (what good would it be)
If you had everything
But what you didn't have
Was the only thing you need?

This is the good life
I've lost everything
I could ever want, ever dream of ...
This is the good life
I found everything
I could ever need, here in Your arms.

This is the good life
I've lost everything
I could ever want, ever dream of ...
This is the good life
I found everything
I could ever need, here in Your arms."

"Alright, missy." Lisa looked up as the nurse walked in, examing the drip bag hanging above Lisa. She gently removed the needle and, after checking her over, said the four words Lisa was longing to hear. "You're free to go."

-

-

-

Lisa headed to the elevator, feeling slightly nauseated already. Her medication always made her feel like crap. She eagerly awaited the day when she would be off of it. She heard the elevator ping and moved to the door, reaching into her purse for her keys. The doors slid open, and Lisa stepped in, looking up. Her heart froze.

Jackson leaned casually against the railing, giving her his damned evil smirk. A few strands of hair hung in front of his eyes, shuddering slightly when he blinked.

"Going down?" he asked slyly, punching the 'DOOR CLOSE' button before any other passengers thought about boarding. Lisa held his gaze a moment longer before hitting the button for the parking garage.

"What are you doing here?" she asked calmly, leaning against the opposite wall. Jackson smirked again, holding up the bouquet of flowers he had brought in.

"I was simply a friend of the family, coming in and surprising ole' Leese with a nice bouquet of flowers." He held them out to her, his smile daring her to take them. When she still made no move for them, his smile faded and he rolled his eyes. "You can seriously have them, Leese. It's not like I've got a need for 'em." She took them hesitantly, not bothering to smell them. "Oh come on, Leese! I'm past killing you with poisoned flowers!" She sniffed warily at the carnations.

"What are you really doing here, Jackson? It's been nine weeks since the trial, you haven't shown up through the entire two months, and now you decide to show up. Why?" He shrugged, folding his arms over his chest.

"Call it a personal interest." He slowly stepped forward, keeping his arms folded over his chest and locking his eyes on hers. "What does Lisa Reisert do with all the numerous doctor's appointments she has, huh?" He noticed the Band-Aid over the back of her hand. "Is this a weekly casualty?" He grabbed her wrist and gently peeled back the Band-Aid, focusing on the bruised red dot on the back of her hand. He carefully put the Band-Aid back in place and released her hand.

"My personal life is none of your business. It never was, no matter how much you may have thought so." The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Lisa stepped into the parking garage, followed closely by Jackson.

"See, that's what's wrong with you, Leese," Jackson mused as he followed her through the garage. "You can't let anything go-"

"You're the one who's still following me around!" she retorted. She found her car and cut through two rows, still followed by Jackson. "Your job with me's over, and yet, you're still here."

"Like I said ... personal interest. Doesn't mean I can't let it go, though." Lisa clicked the unlock button on her keychain and watched her car's interior light come on. "C'mon, tell me ... how boring has life been since I've been out of the picture?" Lisa spun on him, looking directly into his eyes, feeling an icy chill slip down her spine.

"That's just it, Jackson! You've never left the picture! You just moved into the background! You're obviously still keeping tabs on me." Jackson bristled.

"You'll forgive me if I can't help but think every day about how you fucked up my assignment!" he growled. Lisa noticed the slight rasp in his voice, and found her eyes immediately going to his throat. She quickly averted them.

"And I'm the one who can't let anything go?" she asked. Jackson gritted his teeth and looked away.

"Fuuuuuck that one backfired on me like a sonuvabitch!" he fumed. Lisa felt her condition rapidly deteriorating.

"Look, Jackson, I'm not feeling very good. All I want to do is go home and crawl into bed." Jackson noted that she had paled slightly and her posture had slumped.

"Fine," he conceded with a nod. "We'll talk again." He couldn't help throwing that one in as he turned and headed to his car.

"Jackson?" He stopped, hesitating a moment before turning. She looked as if she was contemplating something, and wasn't sure if she should ask it or not.

"What?" Lisa swallowed hard.

"Wh- ... why did you save me?" He stared at her. "What made you risk your freedom ... maybe even your life, if they sentenced you ... to save me?"

Lisa watched as he took a few glances around. The muscles in his jaw twitched, and he refused to look at her.

He turned on his heel and headed to his car without answering.

-

-

-

Lisa sat in her oatmeal bath, sipping at her glass of orange juice as she relaxed in the tub. Her day hadn't gone as planned. Well, the meeting Jackson part hadn't.

"Hadn't planned on meeting him, period," she mused to herself quietly, setting her glass of orange juice down. He had been keeping tabs on her still, and while it wasn't a welcome surprise ... well ... come to think of it, it wasn't really a surprise at all.

Wait, he's been keeping tabs on me! Lisa imagined cameras everywhere, and reached for the shower curtain, pulling it shut as quickly as her weakened body would allow. She sighed and sank back into the tub, letting the milky water cover the majority of her body. She felt tired, worn out, and weak. She hated every one of those feelings. Especially the feeling weak part. She had a tendency to confuse weakness with lack of control sometimes.

"... that it was beyond ... your ... control?"

She shuddered as she remembered his words on the plane. He had been so certain that he had her pegged, that he knew exactly what had been running through her mind. Yeah, well, for someone who'd been stalking me for 8 weeks, he didn't know shit.

"No. That it would never happen again."

Lisa groaned and carefully moved into a kneeling position in the bathtub, slowly working her way out of it. She could feel her energy ebbing as it always did after her medication began its course. She pulled the plug from the drain and yanked the shower curtain back, reaching for her towel.

-

-

-

That night, Lisa was in her kitchen, half-heartedly sipping at the chicken noodle soup in her bowl. She had a feeling that the meal would come back up later on, but her doctor had advised her to keep trying to get liquids down.

She jumped as she heard her phone begin buzzing in her purse. She reached for the small black purse hanging from the bar chair next to her, and rummaged around in the bag for a few moments before finally finding the phone. She quickly flipped it open and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?" She heard background noises, but couldn't make out much else. "Hello?" Nothing. Frustrated, she snapped it shut, terminating the call. She looked at the number flashing on the LCD display on the front of the phone, but all it read was 'UNKNOWN CALLER'. Not much help.

-

-

-

Jackson stared at his phone, silently cursing himself for not having the balls to say anything. Frustrated, he closed it and threw it to the opposite end of his couch.

He had been ballsy enough to surprise her at the hospital. Although, she almost seemed to be expecting it. He wondered at the needle mark on the back of her hand. IV? Injection? Blood sample? No, if it was a blood sample, they'd have taken it from the inside of her elbow.

Grabbing his cell phone again, he abandoned his position on the couch and stomped into his room, sitting down at the computer desk and opening his laptop. A bright blue glow filled the room as the monitor lit up and he typed his password. After typing in a few more passwords and accessing different files, he was able to pull up the video feeds from Lisa's house. He scanned the different rooms, flipping from one camera to another. Finally, he found her, in the kitchen.

"No eggs this time, Leese?" he asked, seeing her sipping at a bowl of soup. At closer inspection, he began feeling sorry for her. She was slumped, practically laying on the island's countertop. Her hair was dull, lacking its normal luster and vibrance. Her pajamas, which consisted of flannel pants and an oversized hoodie, were wrinkled. Under the weather would be an understatement.

Suddenly, Lisa jumped up from the chair and raced out of the kitchen. Frowning, Jackson began switching through the various video feeds, until he found her again. The camera in her bedroom showed Lisa in the connecting master bathroom, her head practically hanging in the toilet and her body convulsing as she began vomiting up the meager contents of her stomach.

"No fucking way ..." Jackson muttered. Shit! It all made sense now! The way she had said she wasn't feeling good, the repetitive checkups, the way she wasn't able to keep anything down, the fatigue ...

No sooner had the revelation come to him than he started to frown. How dare she? Wait, what the fuck do I care? I'm not supposed to care.

"Just file it all away and objectively analyze it like a good manager's supposed to," he murmured to himself. "Getting involved was how I got into hot water last time."

But there's ... No. Fucking. Way. How could she ... and with me not even knowing ... what did I miss!?! There had to be someone who would know. Well, Joe would be chock-full of information, but considering he shot me, I don't think it'd be too good of an idea to go over and ask him what's going on in his daughter's life. Snooping around in Lisa's life is risky enough as it is. Getting into Joe's makes things so much more complex. There had to be a way to find his answers.

He reached into his pocket and pulled his cell phone out, quickly dialing a number. After a few rings, the other line picked up.

"It's Rippner ... yeah ... uh-huh ... listen, I need to get in contact with Marinecchi ... yeah ... okay, put me through ..." He watched Lisa leaning over the sink as he waited to be transferred. He heard a click and another voice answered. "Marinecchi? It's Rippner ... yeah, I know ..." He paused, waiting for the other man to finish. "Listen, I need an ID, can you hook me up with something?" A smile passed across his face as he listened to the other man. "Oh, you're gonna love this one ... how long is it going to take?" Lisa was now washing her face and rinsing out her mouth. "Okay. Yeah, as soon as you get a better idea, call me back and I'll give you the details." He snapped his phone shut without saying goodbye.

Lisa was still leaning over the sink, seeming to gather her energy. Inside, Jackson was boiling. How dare she not tell me!?! And I was fucking standing right next to her and didn't even know!

Seething, Jackson slammed his laptop closed, awaiting his next call.