DISCLAIMER: 24 isn't mine.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I don't usually write post-episode 24 fanfiction. After all, what's the use of writing something that's going to be discredited next week? But I think this is safe. The subgenre is "Humor" for the final line.

RATING: PG because of mentions of bloodshed etc., no foul language.

REASONS TO LIVE

I don't even hear the shot. But I feel it. Oh, boy do I feel it. The left side of my head, right below my ear. I fall to the floor, pressing my hand to the wound as if that will help anything.

It's true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes. I see everything: from my earliest memory of a car crash to high school graduation to my DI yelling at me for trying to fix my own weapon in basic training. Joining CTU, kissing Michelle for the first time, proposing, the wedding. Everything up to this very moment.

Michelle. What would she do without me? She'd kill me if I ever said she wasn't capable of making it on her own. But we worked so hard to make our relationship and our jobs work out. Does it have to end this way?

Mom. She's lost Dad; she doesn't need to lose me too. My sister Leslie would be left as the only living Almeida child. She'd probably quit her job at CTU Boston, because if I don't get through this, Mom will have lost two kids in the line of duty. Carlos, an undercover FBI agent, and now me.

Leslie. If I make her the only Almeida left standing, she'll dig up my grave and kick my stiff cold carcass all the way back to Chicago. She'd probably continue to blame me for everything that goes wrong in her life. She'd stand at my grave every Saturday and say, "Tony, you have no idea what happened to me today, and it was all your fault!" It's a game we've played since childhood: Carlos and Leslie would blame everything that went wrong in their lives on me. Except if I bite the dust, as they say, I won't be there to roll my eyes and say, "What did I do this time, Leslie?"

Cassandra. Michelle's niece. I love her to pieces; she's crazy about me. It's hard to say who was more excited on the wedding day: Michelle or Cassandra. Cassie was the best junior bridesmaid ever. I love seeing her face light up every time Michelle and I go over to Danny's house. "Auntie Michelle! Uncle Tony!" She's twelve, but still small enough that I can pick her up. I'd give anything, anything at all, to sweep her up in my arms just one more time.

CTU. They'd have to go through the hassle of finding another director. They'd probably give Jack the job, then scramble to find someone to fill his position. We just did this four years ago. I know District isn't looking forward to doing this again.

"Tony!"

Jack. I try to say his name, but I don't know if anything came out. The man I fought with and bickered with and despised for years on the job is now the one to save my life. We haven't argued as much since he rejoined CTU. I guess you could say we now tolerate each other. Maybe even share a laugh now and again.

"Oh, gosh." Jack's out of breath. More so than he should be, no matter how hard he's been running. Now that I think about it, he's been on edge all day. "Aw, Tony." I want to say "Tell me about it," but my body won't cooperate.

Won't cooperate.

I can't move!

Am I paralyzed? Living as a paraplegic would be worse than death. Panic sets in, but I don't imagine Jack can tell.

"We have an agent down! We have an agent down!"

Fighting death is a losing battle. But I fight anyway, as the sounds become fainter and harder to understand. Someone holds my hand. Michelle? Don't tell me she has to see this. But it better not be Jack.

The sounds cease, the colors gone. I hear someone shout for an ambulance and one final thought passes through my mind.

I have got to see the Cubs make it to the World Series.