After yelling at the local PD for their lack of having the situation inside under any kind of control or any officers inside whatsoever, Gibbs and Torres were on their way around to the side entrance. They were preparing themselves already for what they would find before they even would enter the building, but there really was nothing that could've actually given the lead agent a heads up on how seeing her that way would make him feel in that moment.

His intention had been to hold off until the emergency was over, until his entire team was safe and sound. He had agents and friends inside that were in danger and they needed him. But upon seeing her bloody, lifeless body strewn on the alleyway the way it was, it was all Gibbs could do not to throw up on himself right then and there. He had to stop in his tracks; hands on his knees a couple of feet away from her.

Nick hadn't let himself look. He knew she was there, but he couldn't. Not yet. He was at the door, and he only stopped to look back when Gibbs had stopped. "Gibbs," he turned, using every bit of his will to continue averting his gaze from what had Gibbs looking so sickly. His eyes stung just from the knowledge. He didn't need the illustration. Not yet. "Can you do this?"

Gibbs straightened. He took a breath and turned to follow Nick, but they both stopped short at the sound of gunfire. One shot, then another…or was it two? Then an explosion, and Nick was flying back into Gibbs…

~.~*

Tim hurt everywhere. His face was cold. His hands too. That's the first thing he noticed after the pain when he woke up…not that he remembered going to sleep. He swallowed and tried to open his eyes, but it was almost impossible. He tasted blood. He smelled smoke and…beer? Memories suddenly rushed back into his head, and he found himself scrambling up off the floor, grunting at the pain it caused him to do so. He coughed and nearly fell back down, slipping in the mixture of blood and spilled liquor beneath his feet.

Why was it smoky? It wasn't the white smoke from the concert like earlier. This was like fire smoke, but he didn't see any fire. "Tony!" he yelled out when he saw his partner splayed across the floor in front of one of the booths, his body singed on one side. He took a few staggered steps to try and get to him, then fell, tripping over the body of the man that had been holding him hostage. "Gah…" He grabbed his side where the pain radiated harshest at the moment. "Tony, are you okay?" he yelled out. There was no reply. "Ellie? Abby? Rho—" he was cut off when his gaze turned to the left and saw the remains of their newest friend. What little of them there were. There was no mistaking it though. If that was Rhoda's condition, what about… Tim couldn't stop the nausea that overwhelmed him at the thought of the rest of his party from that evening. He didn't see Abby or Bishop anywhere, but could Rhoda even recover from this level of injury? She was in pieces…

Tim leaned over as he vomited a mixture of margarita, soda and blood before forcing himself back up again. "Abby!" he yelled out. "Ellie!"

"McGee!" Nick's voice rang out from the right and he was startled to hear it. He looked over to see him and Gibbs rushing in toward him.

"It's clear," Tim told them. "But I can't find 'em. Can't find Abby or Bishop. Tony's hurt," he said as they reached him, Nick meeting his eyes before looking him over and grabbing hold of him before he could collapse again. "Rho's dead."

"You're hurt, man. Let's get you out of here," Nick told him as he tried to steady him. Gibbs had made his way over to Tony where he lay. Tim watched him check the agent.

"We gotta get them outta here," Tim continued. "Before the cops come in. Before they…ya know. We gotta…" He began to list again, and Nick caught him a second time.

"McGee, we know, okay? We got this, but you're messed up bad and you need to get looked at."

"I'm not going anywhere until we get everyone out of here," Tim said sternly. "I can't find them. Boss? Boss, can you help me find them?"

"Tony's alive. He's unconscious." Gibbs replied without looking back. "Bishop?" he said when he realized she was behind Tony. He carefully slid Tony out of the way so he could pull her out.

"He s-saved me," she told him, still shaking; still freezing and completely out of it. "He threw himself in front of the fire to save me. I-I couldn't s-save them but he s-saved me!"

"Tony's gonna be okay, Ellie, remember?" Gibbs told her soothingly as he helped her off of the floor to sit on the bench instead. "Are you hurt? You bleedin'?"

She shook her head. "A-Abby," she corrected him. "I didn't s-s…" she broke down again. "I couldn't save Rhoda or Abby. I was s-supposed to get them outside. I was s-supposed to s-save them and they're both…"

"Listen to me, Bishop," Gibbs put a firm hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. "What happened here wasn't on you, you hear me?"

"Yes it w—"

"Damnit, Ellie, will you listen?!" He stopped her. "We don't have time for this. Rho doesn't have time for that. Tony doesn't have time for that. Are you hearing me? Are you listening?" She furrowed her brow, and her eyes shifted for a moment, but the information clicked and she nodded. "We need to get them outta here. We need to get McGee to a hospital. We need to get Abby…" His voice cracked as did a bit of his resolve. "And we need your help to do it. Can you do that?" he asked. "This…all of this right now…that we're all feeling? This has gotta wait…just a little while, okay?"

She locked eyes with him for a moment, then nodded again. "Okay. Okay, Gibbs."

~.~*

"I can't believe this," Jimmy said as he stood beside the cold table looking down at his deceased friend.

"Dr. Palmer, if you don't think you can handle this, you are free to sit this one out. It would be perfectly understandable," Ducky told him.

"You've known her even longer than I have. Should you have to do this alone?" he asked.

"On the contrary, Jimmy," he said with a tear in his eye, "This is not one we should ever have had to do. Not in my lifetime."

"I mean d-do we really even need to do this? We know what happened. What difference does it make which one of the sons of bitches pulled the trigger? It doesn't change anything. She's still gonna be dead and so are her killers…"

"One would say that this is for absolution," Ducky said sadly as he looked down at Abby's lifeless face. "Our dear Abigail would say that being here on this cold table was something straight out of her very nightmares. As though she had always foreseen her demise…for in what other circumstance would she end up on this one?"

"She's got a living Will, you know," Palmer spoke up.

"I am aware, but it was more of a—"

"It wasn't just a joke though," he interjected. "It shouldn't have had to be taken seriously, of course, but obviously it needs to be now. You of all people should understand and acknowledge that, Dr. Mallard."

Ducky looked at his assistant for a long moment and considered his words carefully. He wasn't wrong, and it certainly wasn't something he was unwilling to consider. Especially if it meant they wouldn't have to further desecrate the body of their beloved Abby Sciuto. As much as it was all science to them, this is very personal. It may just have been where the line needed to be drawn.

As Ducky looked down at Abby's face again, he wondered once more if this would truly be the one that broke him. Was that what he had been wondering about before?

~.~*

Nick's knee bobbed nervously up and down where he sat backwards in a chair beside the pool table in Tim's storage unit. His arms crossed and the side of his thumb between his teeth, his eye was on the body bag they'd brought Rhoda back in. It was open, mind you, but only because they wanted to give the…pieces they collected the ample time and oxygen necessary to regenerate if it was even possible at this point.

At any rate it was disturbing as Hell in his opinion. All of this was. The fact that he had to stay there himself and keep watch was probably the worst of it all. At least Tony was there. Unconscious still for some reason, but there, nonetheless. They'd put him on the pool table with a blanket and pillow. Gibbs wanted to make sure Nick would be okay there without him. Someone had to go to the hospital with McGee and Bishop after all.

He would rather be with Ellie. She had seemed so terrified at the club. He'd never seen her like that before; not even a little bit like that. He just wanted to hold her… And Abby…the fact that she was gone. Never mind the pure genius that had just been ripped from this world but also the pure joy. If there was anyone that any of them needed a hug from after this, it was her…

The thought made Nick's eyes sting. He pushed up out of the chair and attempted to stop the tears before they could start up again. That wasn't going to help anybody. "Come on, Tony, wake up," he said as he appraised the agent. Whatever superficial wounds he'd gotten in the club had healed up at this point. He was still covered in soot but otherwise seemed to just be sleeping. "I'm alone with my thoughts and all I can think about is our dead friends, man." His voice cracked. He stopped himself from speaking further for a few moments while he paced and reigned himself in. "I need you to get up so we can get the hell out of here and go see the ones that are still alive, okay? Can you do that for me? 'cause I feel like I'm gonna lose it here…"

~.~*

"I'm sorry I lost it out there, Gibbs," Ellie said from her emergency room bed. She'd been given meds to calm her down and had been on fluids since they'd been brought in. "Everything just happened so fast and…I panicked…way more than I should have. And after Abby went down I just…" The back of her hand covered her mouth as she attempted not to start up all over again.

"Tell me," Gibbs said quietly where he sat beside her bed, leaning toward her to meet her eyes. "Tell me how it happened. What do you remember?"

Ellie shook her head, then took a sharp breath through her nose before taking her hand away from her face. "McGee told me to get them out of there," she began. "I had us all get down on the floor and headed to the back exit, but Abby got back up…and she wouldn't…she wouldn't listen when I told her to get down. She just kept talking about going back for Tim." Tears started making their way down her cheeks again though she refused to let them interrupt her speech. "I tried to force her back down with us and then… Then…" Her eyes went distant and glassy, dancing side to side as the memory played back in front of her. "She was gone before she hit the floor, Gibbs. I'm so sorry…"

"Okay, Bishop, that's enough," he said as she seemed to slide away from where she was on the bed and toward him. "It's not your fault." He pulled her to him, the lost look in her eyes too much to bear. She crumbled into the embrace and all but crawled into his lap. She was like a small child clinging to her father, curled up and crying softly, apologizing over and over because even though it might not be directly her fault, she knew Abby's death was going to hit him harder than any of them…

~.~*

"Then it is settled," Ducky said where he sat in front of the open file he and Palmer were reading through at his desk. "We will remove the slugs, but apart from that and repairing the damage, no autopsy will be performed on our Abigail in accordance with her wishes."

"And you're certain Gibbs won't be upset about that?" Jimmy asked.

"Well, he'll have to deal with that emotion somehow. This isn't his choice, is it? I'm glad you brought up her will, Dr. Palmer. I hadn't remembered about it as one usually doesn't prepare one at her age."

"I'm sorry she needed to use it so soon," Jimmy replied. "If you don't mind, doctor, I think I'd like to go check on Agent McGee. Last I heard, they were taking him into surgery. If he's not out yet, I'll stop in and see how Tony's coming along. Maybe see if Nick needs a break."

"Good idea. Please do be sure our uninjured friends remain as such."

~.~*

Hours earlier…

"Ellie, get them outta here now!" McGee yelled over the crowd of people between himself and his three friends. He knew he was the only one of the four of them armed that evening. The odds of him getting the situation under control on his own was probably impossible and quite frankly more than likely a suicide mission, but he needed to buy Bishop enough time to at least not allow Valdez to accomplish what he'd come there to do.

As he pushed his way through the crowd, he found Valdez again and noticed the moment he spotted Bishop. The blood in his veins ran cold as he watched him signal to his men. He wasn't going to reach him in time. "Everybody get down!" Tim yelled, as he watched Valdez's men pull out their weapons. Then the crowd of people were screaming as they scrambled, running for the exits, not many of them doing as the agent had instructed initially. Then the shots started going off and they thought better of it.

"Get down! Get down! Get down!" he yelled, mostly he just needed them to get out of the way so he could take out the shooters. "Federal agent! Get down now!" he yelled louder then took a shot at one of the men, taking him out immediately.

The civilians were pouring out the front entrance now, crawling over each other to do so. Luckily Valdez and his men didn't seem interested in stopping them. They were, however, aiming their shots in the direction his friends were retreating toward. He heard screams behind him…

He kept moving forward and took out two more of the men before taking a bullet in the gut. It sent him to a knee, but he was determined not to stop before getting to Valdez. He knew that man wouldn't stop until he got to Bishop. Not if he'd managed to get this far.

McGee decided to stay low and continue forward on his hands and knees. Well, hand and knees, as one was still aiming the gun. Though from that level he didn't have as good of an advantage aiming for the remaining assailants. He'd seen a few innocent bystanders get hit on his way to where he was, but it seemed like they had been able to get out with help from others. The ones that could get back up anyway.

Once Tim reached the bar, he grabbed onto one of the chairs beside it and used it for leverage to pull himself up, taking some cover behind the bar itself. It was in that moment that he saw Rhoda swooping in like a CW superhero, taking out one of the assailants before they knew she was coming for them. Another headed toward her, but Tim was able to get a shot off at him, giving her time to recover from the previous kill and finish this one off.

"Tim, look out!" she shouted to him, but it wasn't quick enough to prevent the butt of an assailant's weapon into Tim's back, sending the agent back down to his knees. "No!" Rhoda shouted. Tim could hear her panic as he watched his own weapon slide out of his bloody grasp and across the floor.

He felt swift and repeated explosions in his chest and stomach that he eventually interpreted as being kicked over and over by the man that had managed to sneak up on him. There was no way he was going to get the upper hand while he was on his back like this. So he forced himself to roll and sweep the man's feet out from under him, a neat little fighting technique Ziva had taught him once. Then he scrambled over to his gun, spun back around only to find the guy had gotten back up again, fired off a shot, hitting him, but merely slowing him down before getting the gun kicked out of his hand once more.

"Não mate ele!" Valdez ordered his man. "Don't kill him! Not yet. We can use him to get Bishop."

"What about this one?" The other assailant asked as he dragged Rhoda up toward Valdez. Before he could answer, Rhoda twisted out of his grasp and spun him around, positioning her arms around his head and neck and snapped his neck so quickly, if he had blinked, Valdez would have missed the whole thing.

"You get the fuck down now!" Valdez roared at her, gun aimed at her head from the several feet away he still was. She took another step forward threateningly. "Get down or I'll order my man to kill your friend here!" he yelled, motioning toward where McGee was lying with the gun aimed at him. "I only need one hostage, bitch, but if you play nice you can be number two."

She seemed to contemplate that for a moment, searching the air between them, then glancing to Tim who was looking at her in apology. He looked so pale. So much more than usual. There was blood everywhere, she realized. Blood pooling under him, soaking his shirt, his hands… "You only need one hostage," she said, looking back to Valdez. "So let him go." She could see the lights from the ambulances and fire trucks outside. "He needs help."

"Rhoda, no!" Tim tried to shout but was growing weak.

"Shut him up!" Valdez told his man.

"No!" Rhoda yelled as she watched the butt of the gun hit the side of Tim's head, knocking him unconscious. "You're gonna kill him!" she shouted through tears. "You son of a bitch!"

"All I need is for your pretty little friend to come out and this can all be over with," Valdez told her.

Rhoda stayed there on her knees, heart racing, chest burning with her panicked, heavy breathing she was finding it harder and harder to control. If it was just her, she could take him. She could get up and run him down. Sure, he'd get a shot off at her. Might even kill her, but not before she made sure he'd be the next one to go. She could end all of this in seconds. If it was just her.

But McGee was lying ten feet away bleeding, possibly dying. If she tried anything he would be surely put to death. That meant if she failed, there would be no one left to stop Valdez from getting to Bishop and then… She couldn't stop shaking. Rhoda promised herself she would never let herself feel this helpless again. Not after last time…

~.~*

Now. Bethesda ICU

Gibbs stood beside McGee's hospital bed appraising the agent's current condition. Now that Palmer had taken over for Nick, and Nick was at Ellie's side, he was finally able to come up and check on him. Not that it would've done any good any earlier since he'd been in surgery up until just a little before he'd gotten to the room.

The doctor had been in and given him a rundown. The gunshot was through and through, no major organs damaged but the blood loss had been nearly fatal. Between that and his ruptured spleen, which had ultimately been the reason for the emergency surgery, Tim was lucky to be alive.

Gibbs let out a long breath and placed a hand atop Tim's head where it lay against the pillow, a thumb petting just over his hairline as he glanced at the monitors keeping watch over his vitals. The oxygen mask only covered a small portion of what was sure to be more bruising later on. Gibbs closed his eyes for moment, remembering those last minutes before the agent had lost consciousness for the last time before they'd had to rush him to the hospital…

"Wait…Where's Abby?" he had asked once they'd begun collecting themselves. So he didn't know. Gibbs' heart sank all the more. "Nick, did you guys see her on the way in? Was she outside?"

"Listen, Tim," Nick said, a hand going to his shoulder, still wary of the older man's injured state. "We gotta get you to the hospital."

"Okay, yeah I know that but…" His eyes searched Nick's for a moment before going to Gibbs. He saw the sadness in those steel blue eyes; not something they witnessed very often, but not something he would ever forget the sight of. Then he looked to Ellie and appraised her state. His brain recalculated. "Nick, what are you…" It was as if his heart and his brain were trying to catch up to each other, but his stomach won out.

"McGee!" Nick caught him as he lurched forward and vomited mostly blood.

"Oh god… Is she dead? Is Abby dead?" Tim cried between heaving, sinking to is knees. Gibbs was now at his other side pressing something hard against the wound at his gut as though they'd just realized it was there.

"Tim, you stay with us!" Gibbs yelled as the younger agent began sinking the rest of the way to the floor…

Gibbs opened his eyes again, reminding himself that McGee was okay now. Well, as okay as he was going to get for the moment. He was breathing. Blood was in the right place now. He needed rest. Ducky would be telling him that. In order to heal he needed to sleep. He wished Ducky could be here now instead of doing what he knew he was doing.

There was nothing more that could be done for Abby. Not really. How this team was going to recover after all of this, though, Gibbs was having a difficult time fathoming at the moment. Losing Abby still didn't seem real. Losing Rhoda after everything that'd happened to her not all that long ago…well, he wasn't even sure if she was actually lost. But the way they'd found what was left of her, it was hard to imagine anyone coming back from that; super powers or not…

"Gibbs," Nick's voice sounded at the door. He looked up at the agent as he entered quietly. "The nurse said McGee won't be getting up any time soon," he told him. "They gave Ellie something to help her sleep. They're going to keep her overnight. I'm staying. I can keep an eye on both of them. Jimmy is keeping the next watch over Tony."

"You come up here to give me a sitrep, Torres?" Gibbs asked quietly.

Nick walked up to the other side of Tim's bed and appraised the unconscious agent. "Just wanted to let you know there's no change with Tony yet," he told him. "If you want to head home and get some sleep, I wasn't planning on leaving here any time soon. I can keep an eye on Tim and Ellie."

"If anything, I should be figuring out how the hell Valdez got out. Not just that but how nobody bothered to alert any of us about it."

"Fornell has a team on it," Nick reminded him. "He's gonna get us the answers we need."

"Not all of 'em," Gibbs replied quietly, eyes narrowing as he looked back down at McGee, thoughts wandering back to those they had lost that night.

~.~*

Jimmy checked Tony's vitals for the third time since he'd been there. It had only been about forty-five minutes, but he was running out of things to occupy his mind at this point. His gaze kept falling to the small tarp in the corner that covered Rhoda's remains. He'd already asked Nick about her. There had been no changes; no signs of healing in their newest friend. He didn't think he could take the sight of another fallen comrade tonight.

The medical examiner part of him, however, felt the strong need to investigate anyway, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to fight the urge to give in to it. He wished Tony would wake up already. It didn't really make a whole lot of sense why he wasn't awake yet, in fact. It didn't seem like he'd taken any serious injury in the explosion. Of course, none of them had actually witnessed what exactly happened to him. From the blood the young doctor had been wiping out of his hair, it would seem as though Tony had hit his head on something, perhaps after the blast. Head wounds were the only thing that kept Tony unconscious for long after healing after all, so it made sense.

Palmer looked over at the MRI machine that was set up on the left side of the room with the thought that he should probably put the senior field agent through a scan. Who knows what was going on in his head, really? Healing powers or not. They did have something to compare it to after all, seeing as they'd taken it for its first test run after Tony's recovery from the fatal headshot he'd taken.

Jimmy stood and decided to give up his attempt to ignore the body under the tarp. It seemed wrong that she was discarded on the floor like she was. There had to be something he could do. Once he lifted the cloth, he realized why they'd put her where they did. He swallowed against the involuntary acid reflux. Being a medical examiner, Palmer had seen worse things, but this was someone he knew. This was someone that had been through so much already and had for all intents and purposes sacrificed herself in this way somehow to save the rest of their friends. Would this truly be her end?

He reached into the pocket of his scrubs and pulled out a fresh pair of sterile gloves. If nothing else, he could at least put her flayed, dismembered body back together. Losing their friends was hard enough as it was. Putting them to rest…well, it would be better for all of them if they could at least look at her one last time and see her whole. He would give her that one last dignity.

~.~*