A/N: Since I'm suffering from serious writers block for my FF Tear of Paradise, there was this idea I just couldn't get out of my head... so I just had to write it all down. This is a new multichapter fic and I really hope you enjoy it!

Liefs

Summary:

"Just leave me alone!" And that's what he'd done. He'd let her pack her few belongings and take the taxi to the airport. When realization had hit him, it'd been too late. He'd been too late, like so often in his pathetic excuse for a life. For the second time he'd lost the woman he loved." What would have happened, if Jane hadn't been able to reach the plane in time and tell Lisbon he loves her? Set in a Blue Bird AU. Jisbon. Romance/Drama

Disclaimer: Not mine!

White Shadows

(1) Look at all these changes

She had been gone for six months now and all he felt was pure emptiness inside his heart. The only thing that had always kept him going, the only person who'd given him a reason not to kill himself after his over-a-decade-long quest for revenge was over, was gone. The last time they had seen each other, she'd angrily splashed a glass of water right into his face and called him a son-of-a-bitch.

"I just don't want you to leave."

"You don't give a damn about what I want or need. I'm just a convenience for you, you use me! It's all about you! You used awoman's murder,Jane, you basically dugher corpse up for this crap! You're so twisted up in your own dishonesty you have no idea how to act like a decent human being - no idea!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

"Alright, well, if you're really sorry,why don't you just leave me alone?! Go away." He'd been standing at her door. "I know you're there. I can hear you breathing! Just leave me alone!"

And that's what he'd done. He'd let her pack her few belongings and take the taxi to the airport. When realization had hit him, it'd been too late. He'd been too late, like so often in his pathetic excuse for a life. For the second time he'd lost the woman he loved.

It was his own fault. He could have prevented her leaving, if only he'd been brave enough to tell her how he felt and not push her right into the arms of another man. After he came back from Venezuela, he'd told himself he would make things work between the two of them. In the past, he'd hurt her so many times he lost count. It'd been time to make it up to her, but he was a person of habit.

Right after he came back, they needed time to settle in. A new city, a new team, a new job. He'd dragged Lisbon here, away from her new home in Cannon River, to be with him. And once he'd had her, everything had slipped back into how things were. It'd made him content, because it was easier to play with an old deck of cards instead of risking playing with a new one. Contentment was good.

The rules had changed though, and you couldn't play a new game with old cards. Lisbon had changed. She'd told him on their first flight together that she wanted him to keep his fingers out of her life, to stop intervening. That's what he'd done - to top it all, he'd pushed her into the arms of another man.

"I want you to be happy. That is the most important thing, that you do what makes you happy."

He hoped she was happy now with Marcus Pancake-let's-move-to-DC-after-three-months-of-dating-and-get-you-a-new-job-Pike. Pike wasn't a bad guy; in fact, he was perfect for Lisbon. Stable, independent, no emotional baggage... totally different from him. If things had gone differently and they had never met, this would be the guy he could picture her living with, marrying, having children, everything Lisbon secretly wanted. But things weren't different, and he was a selfish bastard for thinking he could trick Lisbon into staying with him.

Perhaps if he'd just told her how he felt, she'd have stayed. He'd lost the thing that mattered most to him, although he'd tried to stop her plane at the airport. He'd been too late, like so many times in his life.

He'd had his chance... for twelve years, he'd had the chance to tell her how he felt, so he couldn't blame Lisbon for taking her chance to finally be happy.
After Venezuela, he never thought he could miss her more. Her hair, her smile, her laugh... oh god he missed her laugh. It made him miserable, but miserable was good, because it was the only thing he could feel these days instead of emptiness and solitude.

Jane turned on his couch, facing its back. He was able to stare at Lisbon's empty desk for a certain amount of time every day, until it became too much. Abbott hadn't bothered to give it to the new agent, because the first time someone had even touched her old chair, Jane had hypnotized the poor man to bark like a dog every time a phone rang.

Afterwards, they'd left him all alone, just came to him when they had a case or needed something important. He functioned like a machine on autopilot, and for the first time in forever, he was wrong about suspects and killers.

Since Lisbon was gone, he'd lost his way.

Sometimes he could swear he heard her voice nearby, or smelled a special mix of vanilla and cinnamon in the air, her scent.

Although after six months, these things happened less frequently, which made him scared. Jane was scared of forgetting little things, like the particular way her eyebrows furrowed when she was irritated with him, or the dimple in her cheek when she smiled. Yes, he'd stashed everything away in his memory palace, but over time, things started to blur.

For example, he couldn't remember what Charlotte had been wearing on her third birthday, or what exactly Angela had said to him the morning of the day he went to do the interview about Red John. Did Lisbon remember the case when he apologized to her with a simple paper frog? Did she remember how he'd come into her office when she was wearing the pink bridesmaid dress Van Pelt had chosen for her? He'd called her his angry little princess, that's what she'd been. Too bad he couldn't be her prince though, no. He'd screwed it up.
She must hate him so much after everything he'd done. He wondered if she'd ever forgive him... for the umpteenth time, but even Teresa Lisbon had her limits. That's probably why she hadn't called or texted him once since she'd gone to DC. He couldn't forgive himself, so how could he expect her to forgive him?

He remembered this one night when loneliness had taken over and he'd been drinking too much. Her voice had been inside his head, screaming at him, accusing him of screwing up her life. He'd called her, but it'd gone straight to voicemail. In the morning, he couldn't even remember what he'd said, but who cared? She hated him anyway.

Life wasn't fair, never had been to him, so after everything that happened, why did he expect one thing to last forever? There was no such thing as fate, there was only so much human stupidity and sometimes he wondered why he was so full of it.

The members of the team didn't talk about her in his presence... they barely talked to him these days, since he was an emotional wreck.

Abbott was sorry for him. Hell, the man had given him his car keys so he could drive to the airport. After he'd jumped over the fence and illegally invaded the security area, he'd been taken into custody before he'd been able to reach the departing plane. Jane wondered why Abbott hadn't fired him right after this stunt, but he'd bailed him out and given him a look which said "you screwed up big time, man."

Fischer was kind of mad at him. He guessed it was some kind of woman thing, because after Cho had told her what he'd done, she'd taken Lisbon's side. The two women had become friends during Lisbon's time here in Austin. It was good for Lisbon to have friends, female friends... he knew they were still in contact, but he didn't dare to ask Fischer how Lisbon was, and since Fischer had never said anything, he was sure Lisbon didn't ask about him either.

Cho was the only one who took pity on him. Maybe because he cared, maybe because Lisbon had told him to. He really hoped the latter, although after everything he did, he wondered if she still wasted any of her precious thoughts on him. Speaking of Cho, he could hear the Korean approach his couch in slow steps.

"Jane," Cho said behind him. He didn't bother to fake his sleep, because the agent knew he wasn't sleeping anyway these days. "We're up. Case in Chicago; plane leaves in three hours. Get your stuff and meet us downstairs."

"Okay," he answered. He listened to the vanishing footsteps, counted to ten and swung his legs over the couch. Chicago. What a nice change for a case.

Since it was in the middle of October, it would be quite cold up there, so perhaps he should pack a coat, he thought. Lisbon would know what to pack, because she grew up in Chicago. She loved the summer and the beach, but he knew she enjoyed cuddling on a couch in front of a fireplace on a cold winter's day, too.

Did Pike know she liked this kind of thing? It was hard to tell. Jane sighed. Hopefully he found the time to feed Lisbon properly, because she tended to forget to eat when things were stressful. Did she have someone who brought her coffee in the morning? He hoped she wouldn't live on cereal bars and sandwiches from vending machines.

He'd always taken care of her, brought her food, coffee, made her smile… but also got her into loads and loads of trouble, and because of him she had tons of extra paper work to do – at least at the CBI.

Well, there was no Jane-related paperwork in her new job now.

"Jane, are you coming?" Fischer called from the elevators. She was holding the door open for him, so he quickened his pace and stepped inside.

"Kim."

"We got a case," she said, her voice clearly annoyed.

"I know, Cho told me." They rode the elevator down in silence. He figured Fischer was still mad at him, on the one hand because of Lisbon and on the other because last week he'd nearly gotten shot while pissing off a murder suspect from the Mexican mafia. If she hadn't pushed him aside and taken the bullet in her vest for him, he could have died.

That was another thing he didn't care about since Lisbon left. He wouldn't just go and kill himself, but he wasn't exactly careful when it came to danger now. Not that he ever had been, but he could count on Lisbon to save him. These days… there was no one. He was falling into a black hole and couldn't get out.

"Have you heard from Lisbon lately?" he suddenly asked as they rode the elevator down in silence. It was the first time he'd even said her name aloud since she left.

Fischer was surprised, she couldn't hide it. "Yeah, I talked to her on the phone a few days ago."

"Ah," he answered, not knowing if he should ask for more information. It would only hurt him to know more about her, and he wouldn't dare to ask Kim the things he desperately wanted to know.

"She is doing fine. Her new job is interesting but a little exhausting; the team she is working with is nice." Fischer smiled a little at him, not sure how he would absorb this type of information about such a delicate topic.

"That's… nice," Jane pressed out with a throaty voice, not looking at her. "Is she… happy?"

He didn't know why Kim suddenly took pity on him, but her next words almost made him unable to breathe.

"She didn't give me any reason not to be. I'm glad you're asking, Jane. She's been asking about you, too."

"She has?" Maybe there was still hope she didn't profoundly hate him as much as he thought she would. He waited for Fischer to say more, but she just smiled.

For the first time in six months, Jane felt something stir deep down in his body. Lisbon had asked about him… She was interested in how he was doing. Maybe she did care at least. What the hell did he think? She was saint Teresa, of course she cared, although she loathed him. But what if she just asked how he was because Kim had told her about the stunt he pulled?

There were too many possibilities and suddenly he hated himself for asking Kim, because now he couldn't stop thinking about her. Jane hated it. He hated that he loved her so much.

Xxxxx

Their plane landed in rainy and cool Chicago in the evening. It was already dark when they arrived at the crime scene, a bad neighborhood in South Side. A man had been executed with seven shots in the heart and three in his head. Well, there probably was no head anymore.

A man in a suit greeted them and introduced himself as FBI Agent Andy Dearman. He didn't seem happy another team was taking over his case, Jane realized immediately.

"The victim's name is Luther Gregory McKinnley, age 46. He must have been killed last night with several shots. Nobody's seen anything, but that's normal in this neighborhood."

"Who called it in then?" Cho asked.

"He's got an electronic tag and when he didn't call in this morning, people from Chicago PD found him. Look guys, I know you went through a lot of trouble to get up here, but my team can handle it."

"Obviously it can't, Agent Dearman, because this is the third time within a week that someone's been executed in the same style," Fischer explained dryly, before she looked around to see a head with blond hair vanishing inside the building. "Let's go inside. Abbott said we have to keep an eye on Jane so he doesn't do anything stupid."

McKinnley showed them inside and led them up the stairs to the second floor where the crime scene was located.

There was mostly dried blood and gray mass – brain – on the floor and walls, and the smell of decay and garbage inside the little two-room-apartment made everyone who came in there for the first time swallow hard. The crime scene techs were still working on securing the evidence and taking pictures, while the coroner was preparing the body for a move.

Jane was standing in the doorway, taking everything in. The smell was horrible, but he didn't care. Behind him, he could hear the other agents approach, so he stepped aside to let them inside.

A smile spread over his face when he saw Fischer wrinkling her nose. "Oh god, why do these people never clean their apartments? That's disgusting! Look at all the trash!"

"What else do we know about the victim? Is there any connection to the other two victims?" Cho asked Dearman.

He shook his head. "Not that we know of, although it's definitely the same killer."

"Who are the other victims?" Jane wanted to know. He hadn't bothered to read the files on their way here.

"Zelda Higgins, age 68, retired primary school teacher and Antonio Valentini, age 47, owns a pizza place in Cicero. We found out that Higgins was the teacher of Valentini's son."

"Then why do you say there is no connection? She must have known the fathers of her pupils," Jane said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, but that was 28 years ago."

"So what? The connection is there, even if it was so long ago. If you call this good police work, I know why you haven't found a killer yet. Sloppy."

"Jane," Fischer murmured to calm him down.

"What? It's true, isn't it? You should have followed the lead."

Dearman balled his fists. "I've heard about you, Jane. I won't let me and my team be dragged through the mud just because you feel like messing with the FBI. They've been shoving rainbows up your ass for too long."

"I think it's a good thing our team is going to take over the case. Agent Dearman, we will meet up with your team tomorrow at Chicago PD, where you can show us what you've worked on up to now. Afterwards, we take over and you can go home." Fischer used her authoritarian voice and pointed toward the door, but Dearman obviously didn't like taking orders from women.

He wanted to reply, but Cho stepped in to support Kim's order by leading the man carefully away from the crime scene.

"His wife just left him for the gardener, don't be too hard on him," Jane remarked, before he turned back toward the crime scene, where the people were more or less packing up.

"I can fight my own battles, thanks, Jane. If I were him I'd react the same way. Nobody likes to admit they failed at something. For some reason he doesn't like you, so perhaps it would be better, if you could do something tomorrow morning besides being at the office."

"Oh Kim, I didn't know you cared, thank you. Well, how about Cho and I go and interview McKinnley's daughter? She doesn't know about her father's death, does she?" Jane went over to the blood sprinkled desk and held up a card from a wedding gown shop called "Love Is Sweet – Bridal Gowns and More." "There's also a letter addressed to Lucy."

"How do you know it's the daughter? I don't think the files said anything about a daughter. She could be his lover." Kim wasn't sure about Jane's conclusion on things.

He pointed to the only picture on the wall, which showed a little girl around age six in a princess gown sitting on a bench in the park from afar. "He didn't have time for a lover. He was living in a bad neighborhood and had an electronic tag, ergo it must be the daughter. If you check his records, I'm sure there will be a temporary restraining order for a woman who had a child called Lucy a few months later. If you take a look at the letter, it doesn't sound like it's the first time he wrote her. Maybe she knows something."

Fischer seemed impressed because he'd shared his thoughts with her, so she just nodded and told him she'd check.

Xxxxx

Early the next morning, Cho and Jane were on their way to a shop for bridal dresses on the West Side. It was a small shop with a charming interior. Someone had really put a lot of thought into everything, at least from what they could see from the store window.

"I hope she is working," Cho mumbled, but Jane just shrugged. They'd found out that Lucy Hall had taken over the business from the previous owner, who retired a few months ago.

"She just took over the business; I don't think she has enough money for new employees just yet. We will see."

They stepped inside, hearing the ringing of a wind chime above their heads.

"Just a sec!" someone called from the only dressing room with a heavy pink curtain to shield the view of what was going on inside. On the opposite side was a huge antique mirror with a golden frame so the bride could see herself in the gown full size.

"Okay, we're ready." A small blond haired woman with a very lovely face peeked out of the room to greet her guests. "Good morning, gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

"I'm Agent Cho, this is Patrick Jane, FBI. Miss Hall, we have to talk to you about your father."

She rolled her eyes and put a hand on her hip. "Alright, what did the old bastard do now? Is it because of those letters? I threw them all into the trash without opening them."

"Your father is dead, Miss Hall. He was murdered the day before yesterday," the Korean explained.

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that. But I really don't know what to tell you. He was a sonofabitch, you know?" Jane tried to read any indication she was being fake, but he could tell she wasn't lying.

"Have you been in contact with Luther McKinnley recently?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't. Like I said, a few months ago I started to receive these letters from him where he wanted to apologize and explain things, but I never answered him. After I read the first one, I threw all the other ones away without opening them. Listen, I have a customer. Could we shift this to my lunch break?"

"It's okay, Miss Hall," the voice behind the curtain said, and Jane's blood froze.

He turned around to the dressing room. The curtain had been drawn back, and a petite dark-haired woman in a white mermaid wedding gown with silk and lace stepped out. Her face was flushed and her hands were shaking slightly. "Hello, Jane…."

"Lisbon…."