When the explosion hit, Jimmy had been in Autopsy. It was stupid really, Dr. Mallard and Breena had gone ahead to Miami while he'd stayed behind to tie up a few louse ends. He shouldn't have been in NCIS, not while there was a bomb and he definitely shouldn't have been in Autopsy. But that was where he was. It seemed to happen so slowly, the light fixtures above him exploded beforehand and threw glass shards everywhere. His glasses were ripped from his face with the sheer force of the explosion and he somersaulted limply backwards, just as one of the heavy, metal Autopsy tables came flying towards him. The rest of the moments afterwards were kind of blurry but he remembered the pain and God...he remembered the blood. It was everywhere, there was so much of it. Then he'd looked at his right arm, or where it would've been. What was there was a bloody, mangled mess, it wasn't even an arm anymore. But surprisingly, it didn't hurt, nothing hurt. He was absolutely numb as he looked at his destroyed arm and he thought of Breena. Did she know already, about the bombing? Did anyone know? Was anyone coming for him? Then a more terrifying thought crossed his mind. Was he going to die alone on the floor of Autopsy? Jimmy would've hyperventilated if it hadn't been for a voice inside his head.

'You have to stop the bleeding.'

Jimmy obediently nodded and tried to staunch the never ending flow of crimson blood with his jacket. The voice sounded just like Dr. Mallard did when he was lecturing Jimmy about something. It was calm and soothing, the only thing he had to clutch onto as everything around him blurred beyond recognition. Soon enough his mouth began to taste as coppery and rusty as the blood that seemed to be spreading across the white tiles that were covered in glass shards. There was a heavy buzzing in his head and it was like there was cotton shoved up both his ears. Everything felt sluggish and slow as he mind tried to comprehend what was happening. The doctor in Jimmy told him that he was going into shock, but there was nothing that he could do about it. Just look at his arm for Pete's sake! He found himself praying that nothing had happened to the others, nothing as bad as what was happening to him. Was something bad happening? He couldn't remember...

'Don't fall asleep, Jimmy.'

Now that sounded like Dr. Mallard. But Dr. Mallard was in Miami with Breena. Jimmy tried to remember where he was through his hazy mind, then he looked at his right arm again. The next moment found him turned the other way, vomit spewing from his pale and shaking lips, it burned sour and acidic over his tongue and he wanted to cry as he laid back and stared at the ceiling. Then a feeling of relief spread through his body as he heard voices outside of Autopsy, the automatic doors were jammed. But there were voices.

"Is anyone in there?! Hello! Is anyone in there!"

Jimmy opened his mouth to respond, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a scream that hurt his ears. It was shrill and full of pain, no not just pain...that was agony. But he didn't hurt, so why was he screaming? He didn't need to scream. That was when the voices kind of faded away as the ceiling above him blurred. He began to feel as though he was floating on the tips of his toes like a ballerina. Did male ballerinas dance on their toes? He had no idea. But he wanted his mother and his brother, he wanted the team to be alright. Where was he again? Oh, Autopsy. Dr. Mallard had told him such great stories in there, stories about things he'd seen, Jimmy had always loved to listen to the older man talk, his voice was so calm and rhythmic that it always soothed the young man. He could've used some soothing then. He could've used a lot of things. Then there were hands on him, touching, gently smoothing his hair back as they tried to speak to him. Jimmy blinked his eyes open, only to be completely swarmed with blurry faces that he didn't recognize. The only thing he registered was the fact that his arm had begun to HURT.

"He's losing too much blood! Get him out of here! Move the table!"

Then a few of them removed the heavy table from his managed right arm. He heard a scream that made his ear drums want to bleed. He only realized later that it had come from him. The hands were on him again, rolling him onto something hard. One of them shoved something soft under his head, maybe a jacket or a towel, he wasn't sure. It didn't cushion his head near enough, but he didn't complain. Then they were talking to him again, he caught his reflection in one of their sunglasses, he looked unbelievably pale, the only color on his face were his stark green eyes and even those were fading.

"I need you to stay with me, son. Tell me your name."

"We're losing him! We need to make a tourniquet!"

"Jimmy...I want Dr. Mallard ..."

His numb lips whispered, hoarsely. His face felt strangely warm and his body was extremely cold, he was shivering as their cold hands touched his skin. He felt them lay something across his chest, something heavy. But he had no idea what it was. Then they were lifting him up and they were moving. His head was swimming and everything was fading in and out. But they kept talking to him, prodding him every few moments to make sure that he was still with them. The same person with the sunglasses, kept smoothing back Jimmy's sweaty curls and talking to him in a soothing fashion.

"We'll get him for you, kid. We'll get him. Just stay awake for us."

"He's going into shock!"

Another worker bellowed, drowning out any calming words that the sunglasses wearing man was trying to say. Then there were hands on his chest, beating down on him. They were trying to preform CPR on him, the doctor in his mind provided. He was dying. That was when he heard a scream, people were yelling his name from different directions and Jimmy had no idea where to look. But he dimly registered that he knew the voices that were calling to him. Then there was Abby's face, she was crying. She was tugging at his shirt, tears running down her face, a silver haired man was holding her back, Gibbs. He caught a flash of something in the older man's eyes, it was concern and worry. But as soon as he saw it, they were gone and the sunglasses wearing man was shoving a mask onto his face and pulling the elastic band behind his head. Gibbs' last words to him, just kept playing over and over in his mind, he was unable to process them however.

"Get the paddles, he's slipping!"

"Jimmy!"

Jimmy's back arched as the electric currents ran through his body, his blank eyes stared up at the ceiling of the ambulance. He thought of Dr. Mallard and his fiancé, of Tony, Ziva and McGee, of Vance, Gibbs and Abby...of his mother and his older brother. He thought of his father, dead almost twelve years. He thought of all the living that he couldn't leave behind. He couldn't join his father, not yet. Not when he wasn't finished. It was like leaving a painting half-done. He couldn't do that. Not to them. Just as they struck the paddles against his chest one more time. Gibbs' last words to him became as clear as day as the world faded to black.

"...you aren't allowed to die, Palmer"

He wasn't one to deny a direct order.

-(Dr. Mallard and Breena)-

Breena Slater held her phone in shaking fingers as she sat by Dr. Mallard's bedside. She'd just gotten the call, her fiancé, the man she loved was in critical condition, traumatic amputation, they said. Gibbs, Abby, Tony and Ziva were alright, McGee was having stitches put in his side, but he was alright. But Jimmy...oh God...her Jimmy. Then Dr. Mallard had a heart attack on the beach and she had to stay with him, Jimmy would never forgive her if she didn't. 'Oh, I'm fine Bre. No need to rush down here, I'm totally fine. You should've stayed with the doctor.' Oh, Jimmy. A few tears slid unheeded down her cheeks and she gave a small whimper to accompany them.

"Breena? Are you alright?"

A thin, hoarse voice greeted her and the young blond girl looked up to see the good doctor Mallard staring at her in concern. She nodded and forced a smile into her face as she clutched at his hand, gently. But the doctor didn't believe her for a moment and shook his head as he stared into her watery blue eyes. Then realization dawned on him and he would've clutched at his chest again.

"Are they alright? Is Jimmy?"

"They're all fine, McGee needs stitches in his side but he should be fine."

Breena whispered and the doctor nodded, but still shook his head slightly. He knew that he wasn't telling him something, out of fear of how he would react, he was still ill after all. Then when he finally picked up upon the look in her eyes, he knew that it was for the worst, something had happened to Jimmy, he just knew it. Why else would she be crying? Unless...oh God no...

"Breena..."

"He's in critical condition. Traumatic amputation of the right arm, two inches below the shoulder. We might lose him, Doctor. We might lose our Jimmy."

Horror dawned in the good doctor's eyes and he felt a pain in his chest that wasn't from his heart attack as he looked at the fiancé of his assistant, of the man he viewed to be his own son. He'd never thought about what he would do if he lost Jimmy, he'd never thought it could ever happen, the young man was strong, happy and healthy. Nothing to ever make the doctor think that he could lose him. But now, when he was faced by the possibility, he had no idea what he would do without the young man, the youngest on their team by far.

"You must get back to Washington at once. You can use my name, even if you have to drive to the Navy base in Jacksonville."

"But you need me here. You've just had a heart attack Dr. Mallard."

She whispered as she stared at the doctor, who looked at her with such compassion, such gentleness. Something like a father would give to his daughter as he held her hand, trying to mask the horrible distress in his wide, blue eyes. Breena bit her lip almost comically as she looked into them.

"But they need you more."

"He'd never forgive me if I left you."

"He'll forgive."

Breena's floodgates were completely destroyed then, and she leaved forwards, despite all the wires and tangles to wrap her arms around the good doctor and cry.

-(Tony and Ziva)-

"There you guys are!"

Both Tony and Ziva were completely relieved as the doors to the elevator shaft were pulled apart and Abby's face appeared. She was smiling slightly, but not as happily as she usually did. Both Agents were covered, head-to-toe in soot and sweat, but they were both grinning happily as they stared at Abby, crawling on their hands and knees to reach her and the exit. It was Ziva who spoke first, her accented voice carrying through the rather small interior of the closed off metal elevator. But Tony voiced his own concerns a moment later, something that the both of them had been wondering for a while now.

"Abby, I've never been happier to see your gorgeous face."

"Is everyone okay?"

When Tony's question was voiced, the smile faded from Abby's face. That sent shocks of worry throughout both Tony and Ziva. But who was it?

"McGee and Gibbs are okay, McGee needs some side stitches but...Ducky had a heart attack in Miami, he's stable though and Jimmy...he...there was so much blood..he's critical."

Both Tony and Ziva gaped at her in shock as tears pooled in the young goth girl's eyes. She was shaking as all three leaned forwards to press their foreheads together. They were a family and they would get though this like a family.

Always a family.