Jimmy stood in the dimly lit autopsy room, his hands trembling. The weight of the job—the bodies, the mysteries—pressed down on him. He'd seen too much, felt too much. And today, it all crashed over him like a tidal wave.While Tony, his former colleague, walked in. His eyes, once filled with mischief, now held a depth of understanding. He'd been through the trenches too, seen the toll this life took.
Jimmy (voice breaking): "Tony, I can't do this anymore. The autopsies, the loss—it's suffocating."
Tony (placing a hand on Jimmy's shoulder): "Hey, Palmer, you're not alone. We've all hit that breaking point. But remember, yesterday is over. Change is the essence of life."
Jimmy (teary-eyed): "But Ducky—"
Tony: "Ducky taught us to honor the dead, but also to live. To find solace in the little things—the smell of coffee, the sound of rain. And when it gets too heavy, lean on your friends."
Jimmy: "I miss him, Tony."
Tony: "We all do. But he left us a legacy—a family. And you, Jimmy, you're part of that family."
And so, in that quiet room, Tony fastened a black bowtie around Jimmy's neck—the same one he'd picked up en route to the States. A tribute to Ducky, a reminder that they were never truly alone
