He rushed to Palmer's side, quickly draping one of Abby's arms around his neck, taking some of her weight off the younger man. She was conscious but dazed, seemingly unable to make her legs work. He looked around for an EMT; while he could see multiple teams, they were all occupied. She needed medical attention; blood was flowing fairly freely across her face, dripping down her chin and onto her skull t-shirt. Purposefully, half carrying, half dragging Abby, they made their way through the crowd towards the last place Gibbs had seen Ducky.

Ducky was standing, surveying the crowd now that the EMTs had arrived. He turned as they approached, his grim expression changing to concern as he took in Abby's appearance. They lowered her carefully to the ground, stepping back to let Ducky tend to her.

"What happened?" Gibbs questioned Palmer.

"I don't know... we got separated in the crowd. I found her like this." Palmer told him, obviously shaken by what he'd seen. Gibbs nodded, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of Tony and Ziva. Seeing a mass of dark curly hair that could only be Ziva's, he gave a piercing whistle. It earned him black looks from surrounding people, but it had the desired effect; they turned and started making their way purposefully to him. He studied them as they approached. Ziva's face was carefully expressionless, only the eyes showing her anger, while Tony was trying to mask shock and incipient panic.

"Couldn't find them, Boss" Tony started, then noticed Palmer standing next to Gibbs. "Oh."

"Ducky's got Abby." He felt a touch on his elbow and turned. "How's she doing, Duck?"

"I've stopped most of the bleeding; though the scalp wound really does need stitching. I could do that here, but..."

"But what, Duck?"

"She's showing signs of a mild concussion, Jethro. She'll need to be under observation at least overnight, and with everything else going on..." the elderly medical examiner trailed off. Gibbs understood; with the blast happening in the Navy Yard, anyone killed was under Ducky's jurisdiction. He and Palmer would be extremely busy for several days to come. "She'd better go to Bethesda." Gibbs nodded.

"Tony."

"Yeah Boss?"

"Take Abby to Bethesda; she'll probably be in overnight. And fill McGee in while you're there."

"Does Probie know about all this?" Tony's gesture took in the nightmarish scene in front of them.

"Uh-huh. His sister called me. Go on, get moving."

...

Gibbs watched as Tony helped Abby into the car; he'd brought the Mustang around as close as he could. He caught the wince of pain that his surrogate daughter tried to hide as Tony closed the passenger door, and something snapped inside him. This wasn't supposed to happen. So many people had been injured or killed simply because they'd come to work today, and now he had two of his team- his family- in the hospital. He looked around wildly, searching until he found what he was looking for. Striding forward, he didn't notice the crowd parting before him as they saw the expression on his face. Smoothly he pulled the SIG he carried from its holster, pointing it directly at Adams' forehead before the MPs had time to react. Dimly he was pleased to see the look of joy on Adams' face disappear, to be replaced by naked fear.

"Why?" he asked.

Adams remained silent, his gaze locked on the barrel pointed at his head. Slowly, deliberately, Gibbs cocked the pistol. He heard one of the MPs say something, but he couldn't tell what; all his attention was on the man in front of him.

"Why?" he asked again. Adams swallowed; then the look of fear on his face twisted, becoming fury.

"Payback. You think you're so good, you self-righteous NCIS scum! My brother is dead because of you!"

Suddenly Gibbs felt someone pulling on his arm, dragging the pistol down, making him lose his aim. Simultaneously, the MPs started dragging their prisoner away as he continued to hurl abuse at Gibbs. "I wish I'd killed more of you, you bastards! He was my brother!" His yells were soon drowned out by the press of people around them.

Gibbs sighed, relaxing from his tense position. Re-holstering his weapon, he turned to see who had stopped him from committing murder. Ziva stood by his side, her eyes dark. "He is not worth it, Gibbs" she told him simply.

...

Ziva saw the expression on Gibbs' face change; saw it go from mere anger to unbridled rage. She moved to catch him, stop him from doing something he'd regret later; but he was too fast for her. He was gone, swallowed up by the crowd. Cursing in Hebrew, she pushed her way through; the people that had moved instinctively aside for Gibbs would not do so for her. She reached the MPs in time to hear one say "Easy, Gibbs." Gibbs clearly didn't hear them; she grabbed hold of his arm, pulling it way and preventing him from taking the shot. She watched as the tension left his frame and he re-holstered his gun. "He is not worth it, Gibbs" she said, unable to think of any other way of putting it. Only his eyes showed that he'd heard her and understood, flicking towards her.

"I'm going to check on Abby" he said abruptly, wheeling and heading towards the parking garage. Shrugging, she broke into a jog to catch up to him.