The crack of a gunshot shattered the stillness of the night, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. Gibbs, the leader of NCIS, crumpled to the ground, a dark stain spreading across his shirt. The world around you blurred, the sounds of chaos fading into the background as your heart pounded in your ears. Gibbs, your rock, your mentor, was down, and a terrifying thought seized your mind: you couldn't lose him. Without him, you were nothing.

You dropped to your knees beside him, hands trembling as you pressed down on the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood. "Hang on, Boss," you whispered, your voice cracking. "You're going to be okay. You have to be okay."

The rest of the team sprang into action around you, calling for backup, securing the area, but your focus was solely on Gibbs. His eyes fluttered open, a flicker of pain and determination in their depths. He tried to speak, but you shook your head. "Save your strength," you urged, tears blurring your vision.

In that moment, memories of every lesson, every tough love moment, and every quiet word of encouragement from Gibbs flooded your mind. He had been your guiding force, the one who believed in you when you doubted yourself. The thought of a world without him was unbearable.

"You're not going anywhere," you said, more to yourself than to him. "Not on my watch."

As the paramedics arrived and took over, you were forced to step back, helplessness washing over you. But even as they worked to stabilize him, you made a silent vow: you would find whoever did this. And you would make them pay. Because without Gibbs, you weren't sure who you were.