Title: The Last Straw
Author: WriterKos
Rating: FR15
Parings: none
Characters: Jimmy Palmer
Genres: Vignettes, Character Study, Drama
Warnings: none
Summary: I'd like to introduce you to Dr. James Palmer, M.D.
a/n: My beta is taking a break, so I've only spellchecked this story. Any and all mistakes are mine, solely mine. I was checking on ff net and NFA archives and I've noticed that we are sorely missing Jimmy fics. My muse has been quiet for a while but now she is now suddenly singing Arias with Jimmy as the lead Tenor. So bowing to her extreme wisdom, I'm starting a bunch of Jimmy centered stories. There will be a lot of heartache and pain in here, lots of misunderstandings, but don't worry, things will be explained in the end. Well, sort of.
Temperance is simply a disposition of the mind which binds the passion. - Thomas Aquinas
Chapter one: Tonight
He had enough.
Enough of their smirks at his quirks and their haughty eyes upon his every deed.
He had dedicated a good portion of the best years of his life to a bunch of people who looked down on him as if he were only another piece of furniture, lost amidst the autopsy tools and covered with a grab blue scrubs, eternally washing the dead, sewing, weighting their internal organs and cutting their skins and bones.
Yet now he stood there in the middle of autopsy with only his ID and his wallet in his hand. He gently ran his fingers over his ID, remembering all the moments he had spent within these walls during the last few years. There were no others in the building and even if there were, none of them would be visiting autopsy at this time of the night. He studied the empty tables which were silent witnesses of so many mysteries solved between these gray walls and he remembered several talks with Dr. Mallard, when he would ramble about one of his many memories of the past about beautiful dangerous ladies involved in espionage, brave heroes who dared to venture out there, in the brave new world, with the wind blowing at their faces and daring them to do something, anything of value.
People completely different of the old Jimmy Palmer, autopsy gremlin extraordinary.
All those people were living intense lives while he was hiding from the sun like a vampire, braving out in the sunlight only when someone was dead and needed to be transported to the harsh atmosphere of the halogen lights, and where work meant always starting really early and ending very late.
He couldn't go on like that.
He had nothing that could tie him to them anymore.
His tenure as Dr. Mallard's intern was over and he had received no proposal for renewal.
He had graduated – finally, Halleluia! – from Med School, but none was there to cheer with him. The team had been out in a case so they couldn't come and…
His mom was dead. She had died two weeks before he climbed up the podium to receive his diploma and put a Dr. before his name.
She had fought bravely against the cancer which had reduced the vibrant woman from his childhood days to the fragile flower, slowly withering before his very eyes, but she apologized to him for not being there for him in such important moment. He forgave her but he still fervently wished that he had someone waiting for him at the end of the ceremony to celebrate with him.
Dr. James Palmer, M.D.
Sounds good, doesn't it?
So why isn't he happier with it?
