A/N: Okay so here's the deal. I offered a fanfic for the Haiti relief efforts through LJ's Help-Haiti auction. And the lovely and wonderful Cat won my bid. Everyone wave to Cat. So after writing and re-writing this bad boy so many times, I've finally (I think) have together a decent enough fic to begin to post. I think I promised her between 6,000 - 10,000 words so the chapters will be longer than this little prologue. With direction from Cat, here's where we are in terms of the show. Jane hasn't recovered his sight post 1x16 Bloodshot and the team stumbles across another case. Oh and there will be a surprise cameo in here somewhere down the line. Just keep your fingers crossed that I don't run into any more brick walls. A million and one thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read/favourite my stories so far. I cannot thank you guys enough. Enjoy!

Spoilers: 1x16 Bloodshot

Warnings: You will be warned when needed to be... Ominous, yes?

Disclaimer: Last time I checked I wasn't Bruno Heller. Actually, there's a part of me that's kind of glad I'm me.

Prologue

Old cigar smoke. Whisky. A faint, salty cologne. The mélange of aromas assaulted his senses. He fumbled his way through the unfamiliar corridor, his white cane tapping furiously against the wall to guide him.

"Jane!"

The voice was almost drowned out by the distinctive sound of gunshots. He should have stopped, but of course he didn't. He knew he wasn't in any real danger. Rounding the corner, he pressed his ear against the first door. The distinctive pop, pop, pop was coming from the other side. He felt for the handle. The door opened half an inch when a pair of strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders, roughly pulling him backward. They wound up in a tangle of limbs, his body pressed up against her smaller frame.

"You okay?"

The contours of her lips were just brushing his ear.

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

He was well aware of her chest rising and falling against him which was promptly followed by a sudden sharp pinch on his arm.

"Owww."

She pushed herself off of him as she quickly scrambled to her feet.

"Don't move," she whispered fiercely.

He was about to protest when he was interrupted by heavy footfalls. He pictured Cho, Rigsby and an army of SWAT, barreling into the room in question. Sighing, Jane shook his head and picked himself off the floor. He readjusted the dark glasses on his face and wandered in, purposely bumping into a couple of combat-clad officers in the way.

"Pardon me, blind man walking!" he announced. "Let me guess? We don't have a crazy, rifle-wielding yahoo in here."

Nobody offered a response. The smug grin on his face immediately withered from his lips.

"Lisbon? Lisbon, what is it? What do you see?"

He heard her holstering her weapon, followed by the others. The sporadic gunfire was rather deafening until an abrupt click. Then, silence.

"Lisbon…"

His hand found with her shoulder. He knew even before he touched her, something was horribly wrong.

TBC...