A/N Welcome, 24 fandom! This is my first 24 fic, and just something I had a little daydream about in one of my Biology lessons!

It's basically and ending for the whole show. Perhaps the end of season 8? I dunno. I just thought of a little scene like this and figured I'd write it down.

In light of this, I don't really know the whole details of the plot, etc, as I haven't made the whole series up! I don't know what's inside the briefcase mentioned or why they are after it… And I know it is a little too unrealistic!

So treat this just like a silly drabble and let me know what you think!

'How the…?!'

The middle aged American stepped slowly backwards towards the edge of the tall building, the crisp silver briefcase clutched firmly in his left hand. His right hand shook slightly, sweat building on his palm, as he pointed his gun at the Emergency escape to the roof.

'How the hell are you still alive?!'

Silhouetted against the rising sun behind him, Jack Bauer staggered steadily towards the man he had been pursuing; George Hepple, chief advisor to the President. Sweat was dripping off his eyebrows onto the cool tarmac of the roof and his mouth full with the sharp taste of blood.

And his right hand gripped the soaking wet shirt he was wearing, covering the fresh bullet wound he had received only moments before.

Jack shook his head briskly, ridding his eyes of the sweat and shaking away the purple haze that was clouding his vision. His mouth curled into a grimace as he took one step at a time.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Nothing would stand between him and getting that briefcase. It had been another very long day. Jack couldn't even remember why he was doing what he was doing. He just knew that there was nothing else in the world but him, the assailant, and the briefcase.

So much so that he was unaware of the crowds of onlookers that had gathered below the downtown building, and the perimeter that had been set up by the combined forces of the FBI and the LAPD. Squinting against the light, Hepple's eyes widened slightly. How?! How had Jack Bauer managed to get up after a shot like that? The man had been beaten by his team before he fought his way out of custody and Hepple himself had just shot the ex-CTU agent in the side as he escaped with the briefcase. Gulping to steady himself, the advisor stopped as his heels teetered dangerously over the edge of the 3 story building.

'This is over, Jack,' he pointed the gun once again, knowing too well that Bauer wasn't armed, 'Give it up.'

Jack coughed sharply, each breath sending a stabbing pain from his wound echoing through every inch of his body. He spat out the blood that was filling his mouth and blinked away more purple spots that had returned to his vision.

For some reason, he didn't take much notice of silver Glock pointing directly between his eyes.

Nor did he hear the subtle click of the trigger as the Hepple squeezed his hand together.

Silence.

The assailant's brow furrowed as he clicked the trigger again.

Nothing.

He clicked it again.

And again.

And again.

'Dammit…' he muttered as he threw the empty Glock pistol to the side, sending it skidding across the grey tarmac.

Jack let his eyes follow the small gun as his mind took a second to process what had just happened. His mouth hung open slightly as he fought the pain, but he still managed to curl his lips into a smile and force out a small laugh.

George Hepple gulped again.

And Jack charged.

Hepple couldn't move fast enough as Jack Bauer's shoulder collided with his torso, sending the pair over the edge of the building.

As if in slow motion, Jack managed to manipulate himself so he was to land on top of Hepple. He squeezed his eyes shut, unaware of the screams from the people that had gathered and from George Hepple himself.

Hepple didn't stand a chance. He landed flat on his back on the tarmac of the building's car park with a thud, killing him instantly, the briefcase falling out of his hand.

The air was forced out of Jack as he landed on the President's advisor, a deep cry involuntarily radiating from his throat as his side stabbed with pain.

He rolled off the body of the dead man onto his front, coughing up more blood onto the floor. He couldn't hear the screams and shouts from the people around the car park, nor the thudding of footsteps as a dozen or more FBI agents flooded towards the scene.

Jack pushed himself up to his feet, crying out once more as he lurched to the side, his head spinning. Squinting tightly through his misty vision, he spotted the small, silver briefcase he was after.

Falling to his knees, he gathered the case into his arms, sqeezing his eyes shut and clutching it to his chest.

'I've got it…' he croaked to himself, breathing speeding up, 'I've…got…'

'Sir! Agent Bauer has the launch codes!'

'…got…got…it…' Jack continued to mumble to himself and arched forwards, head dropping slightly.

'Jack! Jesus Christ, can we get a medic over here?! JACK!'

'…g-got…'

A pair of hands roughly grasped at Jack's shoulders, another pair prying the silver briefcase from his tight clutches.

'Oh God, Jack…' the hands squeezed his shoulders tightly, their owner's eyes gazing straight at the bowed head of his best friend, 'Jack look at me!'

Jack's eyes were swimming and his head was pounding, but he heard the familiar voice and pulled his head upwards.

His grey eyes met the deep brown of Tony Almeida, and the latter's face wrinkled up in concern.

'Jack… let me see that wound…'

Jack's eyes followed Tony's almost absent-mindedly, feeling dazed. The dark-haired man gingerly moved the ripped shirt to the side slightly, wincing a breathing in sharply at the deep wound in his best friend's side.

'…shit…Where the hell is that medic?!' He shouted, turning his head roughly back towards the FBI agents. Tony looked back to Jack and grasped his shoulders firmly once again. Jack lifted his head back up slowly.

'T-Tony…? I got it, Tony, but I…I think I've been hit, I-'

'Shhh, Jack, don't talk,' Tony interrupted, watching anxiously as Jack's gaze lifted to over Tony's shoulder and into the middle distance, 'Look. I need you to…'

Jack stopped hearing Tony's voice as his mind drifted, his eyes scanning the crowd of people that had gathered behind the police line. They were muttering too each other, the collective input creating a buzzing of noise. Jack's eyes drifted from one person to another, gaze fading in and out as he did so. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Tony was still speaking; his mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out.

The ex-CTU agent wasn't looking for anyone in particular in the people that had gathered.

Not until his eyes rested on someone he did recognise.

Himself and Tony were around 100 feet from one of the police lines. Yet Jack was still positive of the identity of the person he was looking at.

'Jack! Are you listening to me?'

She was a young woman, perhaps early to mid 20s. Her fine blonde hair fell to her shoulders and her blue eyes watched the black-clad FBI agents phone their superiors to inform of the successful collection of the briefcase. Her eyes seemed…distant, yet unfazed. As if she had seen it all before. Her right hand clutched the strap of a red shoulder bag. Her left was holding a young child on her hip.

He was a boy. Only a few years old. Jack squinted to focus on the child. He was sucking his thumb viciously, his other arm wrapped around the woman's neck. His young face was crinkled in innocent curiosity and confusion. But what Jack was drawn to, however, was more obvious than that.

Grey eyes. Fine blonde hair.

'Argh…!'

Jack lurched forwards as a stabbing pain shot from his wound to the tips of his fingers. Tony cried out and caught Jack, the latter's head falling onto his best friends shoulder. Jack felt Tony's hands press on the wound as he tried to lift his heavy eyelids to stare back towards the police tape.

'Jack!'

He watched her again for what seemed like an age, but was only a few seconds. Her gaze shot round in response to Tony's cry, and her eyes rested on the lone men kneeling on the floor away from the others, one clutching the other, one staring at her right in the face.

Her eyes widened.

'Jack! Where the fuck is this medic?!' Tony cried out in anguish as Jack's shoulders began to shake.

He looked around helplessly, all irrational thought leaving him in a panic. Why weren't they helping? Tony knew the answer; himself and Jack had always been expendable. The FBI's main priority would be to secure the briefcase and the codes and continue with protocol until the situation was resolved. The medics had half an injured SWAT team to deal with. They had no time for Jack, or Tony; they weren't even FBI.

'Jack…look, please listen to me…' Tony's voice broke slightly, he was getting desperate. Jack cried out again as he increased pressure on the wound, the blonde's chin still resting on Tony's shoulder, 'I need you to lie on your back.'

Tony tried to force Jack down the floor, only to be met by another cry of pain and some strong resistance as the latter continued to stab his chin into Tony's shoulder.

Jack's eyes were fixed firmly on the woman, who was pointing at him and in rapid conversation with one of the LAPD officers. He shook his head slowly and Jack saw her face redden before she swung back and struck the man in the face. She darted under the yellow tape and began to run in Jack's direction, young boy in hand.

'Jack, please!'

The man who had just saved his country for the 8th time fought back once more, bringing his hand slowly up to reach out the woman who was running to him.

'K-Kim…'

'Kim?' Tony turned his head and spotted the young Bauer running towards them, a young boy, who was the spit of Jack, in her arms.

'Kim!' Jack cried out and squeezed his eyes shut once more, his vision wavering as he collapsed fully into Tony's arms.

Tony's eyes filled up as he clutched his best friend tightly, feeling the blood soak through onto his shirt now. He tried to turn Jack towards Kim but couldn't force his friend through the pain.

'Dad!' Kim Bauer was running as fast as she could towards her father. Why was he here? Why was it him? He wasn't working for the FBI! She dropped her handbag onto the floor and continued to run, ignoring the questions from her 3 year old son.

She was closer now. Jack reached as far as he could over Tony's shoulder towards his daughter. She reached out her hand as they drew close.

'Ki-'

Jack's hand dropped suddenly as his head fell onto Tony's shoulders.

'Oh…no, no, no, no, no, no, Jack.' Tony persisted, lowering Jack onto the floor, 'Don't you do this to me!'

'Dad! No! Tony, do something!' Kim knelt down beside her father, putting her son down beside her, tears now falling thick and fast.

Jack's head lolled to the side as his eyes blinked slowly. His fingers twitched and he managed to lift his hand off the floor towards his daughter.

'Kim…' he whispered, grimacing at the pain. Tony squeezed his hand into a fist and held it over his mouth, watching silently.

'Dad…oh my god, Dad…' Kim grabbed his hand and pulled it up to her face, allowing Jack to move his finger slowly over her cheek, 'Why? You don't do this anymore…I…Oh, dad, I'm so, so sorry! I should have been here for you, I-'

'Shhh…' Jack managed to hush her and he placed a finger over her lips, 'I love you so much, baby,' he croaked, smiling through the pain.

'I love you too, Daddy,' Kim replied, bending down and kissing his forehead as she had done at LAX stadium all those years ago, 'I love you too. I'm sorry for all those things I said, I-'

Kim was cut off as Jack managed to move his head, his grey eyes meeting an identical pair in the boy who was stood nervously before him, chewing his thumb.

'Oh…Dad, I want you to meet your grandson,' Kim whispered through her tears, grasping the shoulders of the boy with one hand and placing the hand of her father beside his face with the other.

'Grand…son?'

'I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner!' Kim blurted, 'but I-'

'He's beautiful.' Jack whispered, smiling. He flattened the back of his rough fingers on the smooth cheeks of his grandson.

'His…His name is Jack.' Kim whispered.

Jack's hand dropped from his grandson's face to his side as he twitched suddenly, face contorted with pain. Tony grabbed his shoulder and said something which Jack couldn't make out. The pain subsided and Jack allowed his head to fall back so he was facing the sky.

'Jack…that's a good name.'

His eyes closed.

A/N 0.0 Sorry! Bit angst-y. But no happy ending for Jack I'm afraid. I really hope you liked it, would really appreciate some feedback!

PinkPenguin18