An Ill Wind
"How'd we get the week off again?"
"I pulled a few strings, called in a few favors…" Starsky smiled broadly as his flashy car cruised slowly down the street. "Just relax, buddy. We have an entire week off to spend skiing. That's seven days of bliss, my friend."
Hutch settled back and continued to scan the sidewalk for the run away boy Mildred alerted them to. "I still don't get why Dobey's letting us go. He's never given us Christmas off before."
Starsky adjusted the air to blow cooler. "He likes us. What more do you need to know? Now stop worrying, would ya."
Hutch snorted softly through his nose in response and rolled down the Torino's window in search of a breeze. Although it was winter, the temperature in Bay City was hovering around eighty degrees with little chance of cooling in the near future, especially with the Santa Anna's blowing heated air through the valley. Starsky, having grown up in New York City where winter was miserably fridged, loved the warm temperatures the Southern California climate afforded. However, he knew his partner missed the long Minnesota whiteouts. And, because of that, Starsky planned their whole vacation around the activities Hutch liked best: the great out doors, skiing, hiking and, of course, women. Nothing said all this better than Tahoe, at least in Starsky's mind.
"You know, this is the first long vacation we've had in over a year. Just think Hutch- snow, casinos, girls…"
"Ben Rivers."
"Hot chocolate in our cabin in front of a roaring fire, girls…"
"No, Starsk. Ben Rivers."
Starsky turned his head to quizzically look at his partner, unsure of where Hutch was going.
"Right there, Starsk. It's Ben Rivers. The kid we're looking for." Irritated, Hutch pointed sharply toward a street vender selling hot dogs. Immediately, Starsky recognized the hot dog munching seven year old they were searching for.
"Jeeze. Why didn't ya say so?"
Starsky slammed on the breaks and threw his car into reverse, and Hutch put a steadying hand on the glove box.
"Easy, partner, we don't want to scare him." The detectives were all too familiar with the Rivers family. Ben Rivers senior had a mile long rap sheet for drug possession and petty crimes before Starsky and Hutch caught him attempting to rob The First National Bank of Bay City. That bought Ben senior twenty-five years behind bars, and left his wife alone to raise their autistic son Benjamin junior.
At least twice a month a call to search for little Ben Rivers was made to all available squads, and Starsky and Hutch, feeling a responsibility to the family, always responded. Today was no different.
After carefully parking on the sidewalk near the street vender, the two young detectives calmly sauntered over to the hot dog stand.
Starsky patted the top of the traveling dog wagon. "I'll have one with everything. Hutch?"
"You know that stuff'll kill ya? Why do you keep eating it? It's full of preservatives, nitrates, tons of salt… that raises your blood pressure, you know, and pig parts too rotten to use for anything else."
Starsky slowly took the dog he'd paid for and held it up to his eyes for a better view. After thoroughly contemplating the greasy sausage dripping with green relish, onions, mustard, kraut and ketchup, he lowered it to his nose for a careful sniff. Shivering in disgust, he looked at Hutch.
"I told ya, buddy, it'll kill you." His all knowing partner rebuked with a content smirk on his tanned face.
"Then I'll die happy." Starsky winked as he shoved an oversized bite into his watering mouth.
Hutch just rolled his eyes and turned to the subject at hand, Ben Rivers, "You ready to go home now, Ben?"
Chewing the last of his bun while starring at his feet, the small tow headed boy gave a soft answer, "Yeah."
Starsky knelt, handing the quiet boy a soda. "I think your mom would like to see you, she's been worried."
The boy remained silent, but accepted the cup and began walking toward the familiar red car.
"Thanks for taking care of him, Hal." Hutch patted the friendly vendors back.
"Any time, Hutch. He's a good kid."
Starsky nodded his thanks and returned to the Torino, climbing into the drivers' seat. Ben was opposite Starsky in the passenger seat. He sat quietly sipping his pop, using his tangled mop of long brown hair to hide his face.
"Why'd you run away again, Ben?" Starsky asked. Hutch leaned forward from the rear of the car to listen.
No answer. Nothing. Just the mop hiding his face.
Starsky quickly glanced back at his partner before returning his eyes to the road. "It's okay, Ben. Just tell us when you're ready."
A small shrug of his shoulders told Starsky the boy was listening. The rest of the short trip was made in silence.
O0O
The River's home was one half of an old duplex in a clean but rundown Bay City neighborhood. A cyclone fence surrounded the dying clumps of front lawn, and well used children's toys were strewn about the area in several disorganized clusters resembling a war zone.
As the trio approached the corroding metal gate, loud yapping from inside the home broke the silence of the late afternoon.
Mrs. Rivers answered the door before Hutch could ring the bell. Starsky's first thought was that she looked tired; the forty something woman stood tall with a Virginia slim cigarette bobbing up and down in her mouth, and purplish circles under her haggard eyes.
The yapping grew louder as tiny dogs ran toward the open door. Starsky raised a curious eye brow at the diminutive creatures, and backed up slightly. "When'd they get dogs?"
"Oh come on, Starsk. Since when are you afraid of dogs?"
"Since Bill Karnack got bit, that's when."
Hutch chortled. "We'll protect you, partner. Won't we Ben?"
The little boy looked up without making eye contact and smiled, the dimples on his handsome face growing large.
"Oh, thank God. Thank you, officers. I was so worried. This is the second time this week he's run off!" The tall woman was obviously harried as she gushed her thanks to the two men while holding back her dogs, with a slippered foot.
"He's fine, Mrs. River's. We found him on 87th eating a hot dog." Hutch informed her showing his white teeth in a charming smile. 'The same place we found him the last two times.' Hutch thought. 'At least he's consistent.'
Without warning, a small projectile squeezed past the woman's feet and began jumping around Hutch, barking in a high pitched squeak. "Look, Starsk. They're only Chihuahuas." Hutch chided as he reached down to pet the small creature. When it nipped his hand, he pulled back with a startled yelp.
"Yeah, but they still have teeth. Very, very small. Sharp. Teeth." He answered with a grimace.
In a moment of poor decision making, Mrs. Rivers stepped out of her house to grab the small animal, unintentionally allowing the remaining six to race out of the house in a mad pack.
Hutch seemed to be the main target as all seven animals instantly began nipping at his ankles, feet, and, as he reached down to push them away, his hands. Hutch grunted profanities between the groans of pain as he jumped from foot to foot in an attempt to keep the dogs from getting too much flesh.
"Control your dogs, lady." Starsky ordered as he attempted to pull one Chihuahua after another off of his partner, only to have them run back and begin the attack all over.
Ben ran inside.
Trying her best to calm the small dogs, Mrs. Rivers was having little effect controlling the mob. "I don't know what to do! Mitzy! Muffy! Pablo! Get off that man!"
Attempting to escape the sharp teeth of his attackers, Hutch worked his way toward the yard, when a cold burst of water hit him sucking his breath away. The dogs quickly scampered away, yelping in fear, much to his relief. His blond hair dripping onto his face, he looked up to see Starsky wielding a hose. "You can stop spraying me now, Starsky. They're gone."
Starsky threw the hose down and ran to his partner, helping his injured friend sit. "Let me take a look."
"No. Shit. Keep your hands off…that hurts Starsky!" Hutch slapped at the hand trying to lift his pant leg.
"I need to see how bad it is." Starsky replied.
Throwing his head back, Hutch took a deep calming breath. He had no idea how bad his legs were, but if the pain he felt was any indication, he didn't want to know. But, the concern in the blue eyes watching him, told him to give in. "Alright. Just go slow and be careful lifting my pant leg."
Starsky did as he was asked, but still Hutch hissed in pain as the material pulled away from the blood on his legs.
Starsky looked pale when he caught Hutch's eye. "You're gonna need stitches."
"Oh my God. I am so sorry. They've never done anything like that before. I don't…I don't know what came over them." Mrs. Rivers began crying, her cigarette bobbing like a buoy in her closed lips.
Rising from the ground, Starsky put an arm around the woman and led her back toward her house. Hutch watched as his partner spoke quietly to her, and she went inside shutting the door behind herself.
Starsky held out a hand to Hutch. "We'd better get going before those little monsters come back for a second course."
He grunted in pain upon rising from the ground, but Hutch made it to a standing position. With Starsky's arm around his waist, he hobbled to the car and carefully slid into the passenger seat of the Torino. The black seat stung his back as he leaned against it, causing him to sweat again from the intense heat of the cars interior.
"What'd you say to her, Starsk?" He asked out of curiosity.
The brunette sat pensively as the car idled. "I told her that her son's safety was more important than those damn dogs, and if she didn't get rid of them, I would…permanently. She didn't take it too well." He shrugged his shoulders in wonder. "Now, wuddaya say we get those bites looked at, partner?"
Hutch frowned at the thought of yet another hospital visit. "Sure we couldn't take care of this at home with a little peroxide and some band aids?"
"The hospital it is. Wouldn't want you turning into a werewolf before our vacation. Hey, Hutch? What do you cal a dentist who cleans a werewolf's teeth?"
"Oh, come on Starsky. Halloween was two months ago."
"Crazy."
"Yeah, where does the time go?"
"No. I mean the dentist…that's what he's called. Crazy."
Hutch put his fingers up to the bridge of his nose and began the ritual rubbing that sometimes eased the tension his partner occasionally produced with his chatter.
"Okay, here's a good one. What do you get when you cross a witch and a werewolf?"
Hutch gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "I don't know. What?"
"A mad dog that chases airplanes." Starsky was enjoying himself and let out a boisterous laugh.
"That doesn't even make sense." Hutch sighed.
Briefly taking his eyes off the road, Starsky looked at Hutch. "Sure it does. He's mad 'bout being a witch so he chases…huh. Maybe I told it wrong? Okay, well, here's one you'll like. What has fur and flies?"
"Just drive, Starsk."
"A dead werewolf. Get it? Flies?"
A smile spread across Hutch's face despite his effort to conceal it. "Yeah, okay. That one was pretty good." But even better was the smile that lit up Starsky's face.
0o0
Five minutes and several werewolf jokes later, they arrived at the hospital. Starsky got out of the car first then helped Hutch struggle to his feet. The wait in the emergency room took longer than expected and by the time Hutch got his stitches and tetanus shot he was ready to throttle his partner. As usual, though, the nurses loved his partner's sense of kidlike humor and continued to laugh at all his jokes long after Hutch had tuned them out.
As he left the pharmacy clutching a bottle of penicillin and sporting a new pair of scrub pants, Hutch grabbed Starsky's arm, quickly registering the disappointed faces of several nurses gathered around his friend.
"Then the doctor said, 'Go see if that's a duck, will ya?'" The nurses laughed more then Hutch thought was necessary. Startsky gave a lopsided smile that seemed to thrill the nurses and followed Hutch to the door.
"What's your prognosis, Blintz?"
Hutch shoved the bottle of medicine at Starsky. "I'll live. But damn that shot hurt." He rubbed his arm and took note of the bruise that was forming. Well, what's one more, he thought?
"How did the skeleton-"
Hutch stopped suddenly and raised a finger to Starsky's surprised face. Then just as quickly he began walking to the door again.
Starsky followed after him with a mock pout in his voice. "Ah, come on, Hutch…just one more?"
This is going to be a long night, Hutch sighed.
0o0
Hutch was tired, but agreed when Starsky suggested they stop at Huggy's for a burger. He wasn't really hungry, but it was time for a pill and his doctor had told him to take it with food; he really didn't need an ulcer on top of everything else today. Besides, he knew Starsky would want dinner before he got cranky.
Just as they pulled in front of the bar a voice came through the radio, "Zebra Three stand by for a patch through from Captain Dobey."
Starsky grabbed the mic before Hutch even registered the call. "Go ahead, Gene."
Static gushed momentarily through the radio before their captains deep voice came through.
"Starsky, Huticinson. I just got a call from Ben's mom. Seems he's run off again."
Starsky held the mic up to his mouth while giving Hutch a worried look. Hutch knew what his partner was thinking; it was dark now and Ben got easily scared. He could be hiding anywhere too afraid to come out. "Okay Cap, well head over there right now. Zebra Three out."
The radio clicked once again. "Tell your partner to be careful over there. I hear she has some pretty vicious dogs." With that the radio went silent.
"Wow that sure got around the station fast." The guilty look on Starsky's face gave Hutch the answer to how that had happened and he secretly swore to get his revenge. But that would have to wait till later, right now they had a missing boy to find.
Starsky did a quick U-turn in the road and headed back out towards the River's home for the second time today. It wasn't a long drive to the neighborhood, and soon they arrived at their destination.
The area had once been orange groves, but sometime in the 1950 a post war building boom took over the farm land and opened it up to new houses. Another change came just a year ago when many of the older houses were torn down as high rises went up. Condos were all the rage these days.
The River's duplex looked lonely next to the few homes still standing. The condos behind it loomed as a giant reminder of the areas progress. It was probably just a matter of time before this neighborhood, too, was torn up and lost to betterment.
Mrs. River's was waiting by the front door for the detectives to arrive. She still had her house slippers on, but the curlers were gone from her frizzy hair and a cigarette twitched in her right hand sprinkling ash softly down onto the porch.
Starsky opened the fence gate and took a quick surreptitious look around the yard. Hutch, who waited by the car, was pretty sure his partner was looking for more of those damn dogs before he wandered too far in. Hutch was comfortable just waiting here keened up against the car. If he missed anything, Starsky would fill him in.
"He's been gone over an hour now. Was upset about what happened to your partner and just run off." Tears welled in her tired eyes.
"Any idea where he may have gone?"
She took a nervous drag on his Virginia slim. "There's a new condo going up a few blocks over. It's just a skeleton still, but he likes to go and watch the workers."
"Okay, we'll start there. If he happens to come home in the mean time, call dispatch and let them know." Starsky stood silent a moment. "We'll find him for you."
Mrs. Rivers tossed her cigarette into the front yard as she watched Starsky move away. Then, without a word, stepped into her house and closed the door.
Hutch had caught the entire conversation, as short as it was, and was waiting for his partner in the car. Starsky climbed in before addressing Hutch. "Did you catch that?"
"Yeah." Hutch acknowledged. "There's lots of places to hid there."
"Well then, we'd better get started." The Torino roared to life as Starsky directed it towards the empty high rises.
Part Two 0o0
Tall empty structures surrounded them as they pulled next to the construction site of the latest mammoth being built. It really was just a skeleton as Mrs. Rivers had described. The shell of the building was still visible and beams of steel rose up from the ground for several stories. No walls or floors were in yet, just beams to take the workers from one area to another. Hutch felt his stomach clench just thinking about the workers climbing around up there. This time of night, though, the place was empty.
"This is creepy as hell. Looks like some post apocalyptic city. I expect zombies to start running at us any time." Starsky shivered despite the heat.
"You just watched Soylent Green again didn't you?"
Starsky gave Hutch a sly grin. "It was Plan 9 from Outer Space. Hey, grab a candy bar from the glove box and take you pills. I don't want you getting rabies."
Hutch opened the box and dug through the various papers until he reached the familiar wrapping of a Snickers. "How long has this been in here?" He pulled it out and stared at it dubiously. "And you don't take penicillin for Rabies, that's a series of very painful shots, Starsk."
Handing Hutch the remnants of his watered down cola, he grabbed the bar and tore open the wrapper. "Well, take it anyway. The doc said those bites could get infected. Now, why don't you stay and monitor the radio. I'll see if I can find Ben." Starsky reached past Hutch into the open glove box and took the flashlight. "And take you pill, Pal"
Hutch was secretly grateful that Starsky suggested he wait in the car. The lydocain he'd been given before being stitched up was beginning to wear off and the bites were starting to burn like hell. "Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, would ya."
Starsky winked at Hutch before aiming the flashlight directly in Hutch's face. "See you soon." He waved with the flashlight and disappeared slowly around the first building.
Hutch stared at the candy bar before taking a tentative bite. It wasn't as nauseating as he thought it would be, so he took a larger bite and swallowed it down with a swig of the warm cola. Grimacing at the combination he began to think twice about eating the candy rather than real food, but Starsky was right; he had to take the antibiotic. With a frown he threw the large pill to the back of his throat and dry swallowed, quickly following that up with a deep drink from the Styrofoam cup. He felt the pill slide down and finished the Snickers to give his stomach something else to digest along with the medicine.
After a very long and tedious while of peering at the shadows of the soon to be finished condos, Hutch checked his watch. Forty-five minutes had passed and Starsky was still out looking for Ben. That wasn't a good sign. Hutch was just reaching for the mic to check in when static burst to life.
"Zebra Three. Zebra Three." A woman's voice came over the police radio signaling that Gene's shift was over.
"Zebra Three receiving, go ahead."
The Captain's voice reverberated through the car. Obviously Dobey was getting anxious to find the child, too. "Anything yet, Hutch?"
"Not yet, Captain. Starsky's still out looking. I'm going to give him five more minutes before we try somewhere else. Any word from the mom?" Hutch was gazing out at the giant steel edifices in the distance, hoping for a sign of his partner.
"No, she hasn't seen him. Okay. Five more minutes, Hutch. If you can't find him there by then, try some of those food places he likes so much."
Hutch really doubted Ben would wander that far away this time of night, but then again, he wouldn't have expected him to come here either. "Will do Cap. Zebra Three out."
Hutch pulled his legs from the car, barely stifling a pain filled moan as his stiffening limbs pulled on his stitches. "Damit." He hissed at the burn. The pain killers had completely worn off.
Using the car door for leverage, Hutch pulled himself to standing, wobbling slightly on his shaky legs. "Where are you, kid?"
Glancing back toward the tall structure in the distance, he saw a shadow moving across a long beam. Squinting his eyes to get a better view, Hutch recognized the form as his partner. "Shit." For Starsky to risk climbing 100 feet above the ground on 40 ton steel girders, Ben must be up there, too. Another form appeared just off to Starsky's left confirming Hutch's fear.
Hobbling as quickly as he could, Hutch made his way over humps of dry dirt littered with cast off building materials. Rebar poking out of dried cement made his walk in the dark even more precarious. As he drew closer to the unfinished building Starsky and Ben stood on, he could see his partner's arm held out with his hand up. He couldn't hear what was being said, but imagined Starsky was telling Ben to stay where he was. Starsky would do everything possible to bring the boy to safety, Hutch had no doubt.
Starsky looked completely in control of the situation as he moved slowly forward towards Ben. Shuffling step by step, he moved closer to his target that was still several feet in front of him. The beam, however, was narrow and littered with loose boards, making the walk to Ben dangerous and slow.
Hutch positioned himself below Starsky where he was better able to see and hear what was transpiring.
"Ben, listen to me, pal. Stay where you are. The ladder down is right behind me, buddy. We can get out of here together." Hutch looked for the ladder to which Starsky referred and quickly spotted it about 8 feet behind him and on the right. It led down to the second level of the structure where another ladder was in place to carry the workers to the ground. Hutch knew with his legs as stiff and sore as they were he could not climb two stories and offer back up; he would just have to wait for them both to come down.
"That's it, Ben," he heard Starsky say with a strong voice. "Just a little further." Starsky momentarily stopped moving toward the child, probably so that Ben wouldn't back away. Both the detectives knew from experience that Ben disliked being grabbed and held, and if he perceived any hint that someone was about to do exactly that, Ben would dart. Starsky continued to quietly and firmly encourage Ben to stay still, and for the most part it was working.
From the angle Hutch was watching, he could see Starsky slide another step. Just a few more and his partner would be able to reach the boy. That is, if Ben let him. Hutch held his breath as Starsky reached out his hand and shifted his foot across the beam closer to Ben.
As Hutch stood watching the high rise balancing act, a warm gust of air lifted his hair and carried the fine strands up on the breeze in a glistening blond halo around his face. A second harder gust pushed past whipping the same strands painfully against his cheeks. Hutch pushed his hair from his face and looked back up to the structure where he knew the Santa Anna's were blowing dangerously harder.
Over the whistle of the wind, Starsky's voice carried a louder more urgent message. He was talking to Ben, but the tone sounded more desperate than before.
"Ben…on to the…don't let…sit…" Hutch couldn't make out every word, but from Ben's actions he knew what Starsky had said. Ben tightly wrapped his thin arms around a girder and slid down to a crouch so that he was squatting low on the steel beam.
Starsky held his arms out in a clumsy imitation of a tight rope walker as he slid his feet back towards the support behind him. The air was swirling quickly around him if the mad dance of his hair was any indication, but over all, much to Hutch's relief, Starsky seemed to be holding his own against the sudden onslaught of wind. Hutch knew that Starsky would wait until the danger passed before attempting to get Ben off the structure and felt his shoulders relax, knowing Starsky had things under control.
A long creaking, like that of a tree branch bending in the wind, caused both Starsky and Hutch to look up towards the top of the complex at the same moment, although Starsky seemed unsure which direction to look as the wind carried the sound. A large section of press board was waving violently in the constant flurry, slamming up and down against the brace to which it was attached. Starsky stood frozen searching for the source of noise
and Hutch could see by his body language and the angle of his head that Starsky sensed something was wrong.
Hutch knew what was wrong.
"Move!" Hutch yelled as loudly as he could while motioning with his arms for Starsky to get down. "Starsky, move!"
Looking unsure, Starsky raised his hands in a questioning gesture as he looked down at his partner.
Damn it, he can't hear me. Hutch circled his hands around his mouth and yelled again in a vain attempt to warn Starsky. "GET. DOWN. MOVE."
But the warning, even if heard, came too late as the pressboard finally broke lose with a crack and flew through the air directly into Starsky surprised face. Hutch heard the collision over the wailing wind and watched helplessly when the momentum of the board carried his partner backwards off his perch one hundred feet to the ground with a dull thud.
Screaming. All he heard was screaming. Loud, agonized screaming.
Then, blinking his eyes as if waking up from a nightmare, Hutch realized the noise was coming from him. He was screaming Starsky's name.
Just as suddenly as the sound started, though, it stopped when Hutch's voice caught in his throat as if chocking. He ran towards Starsky, ignoring the sharp pain tearing at his legs and air trying to escape his lungs. Breath. Be breathing, Starsky.
Starsky was pale in the moonlight, causing the blood on the right side of his face to stand out more harshly. Hutch fell to his knees on the ground unsure of how to proceed. Starsky was breathing, that much he knew, as he held a shaking hand to his friend's chest.
Starsky groaned and Hutch jumped. How much pain was Starsky in if he reacted like that to such a light touch? As Starsky's eyes opened wide and staring, Hutch knew; although his partner was silent, the expression said more than enough; Starsky was in agony, and his struggle to stay conscious was taking its toll.
With the sliver of light coming from above, Hutch was able to see the obvious injuries to Starsky, including the gaping wound on his face that was open from hairline to cheek; thick, bright blood was spreading down his face and collecting on the ground below.
Starsky was trying to talk and Hutch leaned closer to hear. "Just hel-help me up."
Hutch held his hand against Starsky's chest again, keeping the injured man from moving.
"I don't think your going anywhere, Partner." He answered as he looked toward Starsky's legs.
"That b-bad?" Starsky paused, waiting for an answer. "Hutch?"
"I'm here. I'm right here, Starsky." Fear rose in Hutch's throat as he forced his eyes to look down past Starsky's torso to his legs. He hadn't bothered to look closely the first time. Didn't want to, not really. He only hoped he could control the terror on his face as he looked at the bloody carnage in front of him. Taking a deep breath in the hopes of speaking without a waver in his voice, Hutch forced lightness he didn't feel into his answer.
"You aren't going dancing any time soon."
Starsky struggled to look down towards his feet and immediately retched until all that came out was mucus and spit; Hutch knew exactly what had caused the reaction in Starsky's gut because Hutch had almost done the same. It wasn't a pretty sight; the four foot long rebar pole protruding from Starsky's right leg. The crimson pole had embedded itself firmly through the muscle and nerves of his thigh, and ripped through the femur before punching an exit hole in the soft flesh on top. Denim, muscle, and bone protruded around the exit wound as blood slowly leaked past the post.
Starsky let his head fall back to the ground. "M-man this h-h-hurts." He said with a shiver as his body began to shake.
Shock was starting to set in as the adrenaline left Starsky's body and Hutch feared that the shivering was creating a bigger hole as he moved the already damaged leg. A bigger hole meant more bleeding, and Starsky was already losing a lot.
Hutch stilled his jittery hands and used them to hold his partner's leg firmly still. "You can't move this, Starsk." He then shifted his body to block the sand and dirt being blown by the wind from continuing to pelt Starsky's face. Already the granules were sticking into the blood around his eye.
"Starsky, listen." Hutch looked directly into Starsky's partially closed eyes, willing him to wake. "I need to leave you here and get help."
Starsky murmured an answer too softly to be heard.
"I know you don't, buddy. But If I don't go now…" Hutch saw the understanding in his partner's eyes. "Okay. I won't be gone long. Promise."
Before Hutch could muster the strength to rise, a cold hand grabbed his and squeezed lightly. Hutch knew it was a goodbye from Starsky, but he was frozen by the idea that the man meant it as a permanent goodbye. "Starsky? Don't."
"Husch…" Starsky almost sounded like he was begging to be let go, but Hutch knew that couldn't be true. The man he knew was too stubborn to give in, always had been always would be. But now, with the lingering possibility of Starsky slipping away while he went for help, Hutch was frightened like never before.
"Damn it, Starsky." He squeezed the hand holding his wondering if this was how it would all come to an end.
A shuffling noise alerted Hutch to a figure behind him.
Ben had quietly come up to stand behind Hutch and was peering from his tangled bangs with anxious eyes. How long he'd been there was anybodies guess, and Hutch really didn't care. All that mattered now was that he had a plan.
"Ben. Starsky needs help. He's badly hurt and I can't leave him right now. I need you to get help. Do you understand, Ben?"
The young man nodded and lifted his head slightly as if preparing for the job to come.
"Good. Good, Ben. I need you to go to your house and tell your mom that Starsky and Hutch need help. She'll know what to do, Ben. But you need to tell her that we need help. Can you do that for me, Ben?"
Ben nodded again and with tears welling in his eyes he pointed to Starsky. "Broken."
Hutch swallowed back his own tears at the boy's statement. "Yeah. Yeah he is. But you can help him, Ben. He needs you to help him."
"I'll help." And off Ben ran toward the Torino and the road home.
Hutch was second guessing his decision to send Ben rather than himself for help when Starsky took a strange gasping breath going paler than Hutch thought possible, and then began chocking He quickly turned Starsky's head to the side as blood filled vomit came spilling from his mouth. Hutch knew right then that his decision not to leave was the right one; Starsky would have just chocked to death if Hutch hadn't been here.
More and more blood came heaving from Starsky's mouth as his body was wracked by spasms of pain. After several minutes, that felt like countless hours to Hutch, Starsky fell still. The sudden quietness of the night was almost more than Hutch could handle and he was tempted to force Starsky awake in an effort to silence it, but he knew they were beyond that now; Starsky's fingers were dark and his breathing shallow. He was in full shock and Hutch knew it was just a matter of time till…god, what was taking Ben so long. Maybe he should have gone for help. Maybe he…no, Ben was his only option; Hutch knew that waiting with Starsky would only have scared the boy, and Starsky needed someone to keep him going right now, to keep him fighting.
O0O
Hutch's throat was growing dry as he began to sing to an unconscious Starsky, and he would swear by all he knew that when he voiced the first few notes, Starsky's breathing became more regular. Hutch knew the soft music was keeping them both calm as they waited for the help Hutch began to fear was never coming. In the time they'd waited, he'd gone through all of Starsky's favorite songs and favorite bands. Now he was singing songs from his old Simon and Garfunkel album Starsky'd borrowed over a week ago and never returned. Maybe he would let Starsky keep it.
"When you're weary, feeling
small
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all
I'm on
your side, oh, when times get rough
And friends just can't be
found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like
a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me …"
Sirens in the distance caught his attention and he patted Starsky's chest as he clumsily rose from the ground seeking the source of the noise. The blue and red lights blurred together in the warm night air as they quickly approached the construction site.
"Help's here, Starsk." Hutch said with a relieved sob as he wiped the tears of relief –fear- away with the back of his hand. He didn't really care if anyone noticed he'd been crying, he'd been unaware of it himself until now, but, dammed if he didn't have every reason in the world to shed a few right now.
The action moved swiftly in the minutes following the arrival of help; medics were surrounding his partner as they shouted back and forth amongst themselves and into the radio transmitting to the hospital. A neck brace was placed on Starsky and then IV lines attached to his arms. Words like "hypotension" and "cyanosis" buzzed past Hutch as he was pulled away from the mêlée by Captain Dobey.
"They're taking care of him, Hutch. I need you to come over here and tell me what happened."
Hutch felt a charlie horse begin in his leg and grunted against it. "I should stay with him."
Dobey's heavy hand closed around the detective's arm, whether it was to hold him up or move him away, Hutch didn't know. As his feet stumbled, though, he decided it was holding him up.
"You can be with him in a minute. But right now you need to let them do their job and let me do mine. Now, what the hell happened here?"
"It was just like I told you over the radio, Captain." Hutch felt his shoulders slump as the adrenalin from the last several hours began to fade away. "We arrived on location and Starsky proceeded to look for Ben while I waited with the radio. Somehow the kid climbed up to the second level there," Hutch's hand made a wild gesture toward the building, "and Starsky went up to-"
A loud cry punctured the night causing Hutch's adrenalin to surge once again. He pulled frantically away from his captain's grip and stumbled back to his partner.
Starsky was awake, much to Hutch's surprise and horror, and grunting in pain as Hutch reached his side. The paramedics were too busy assessing the leg to tell Hutch to leave, and the intense look he pasted on his face made sure that no one would even have to courage to ask.
"Where-" Starsky swallowed. "Where'd you go?"
"Had to finish all that paperwork you left at the station." Hutch knelt beside his partner again.
Starsky tried to smile, but it faded on his lips as more equipment bumped his injured leg. "Arghhhshit!" The agonized sound was short but intense.
Hutch moved his face closer to Starsky's level. "You look like hell."
"Th-thanks," Starsky replied softly. "Better cancel my date…for tonight, then."
A red headed medic leaned over toward Hutch. "We are going to have to lift his leg in order to get underneath with the saw. It's gonna be painful, but once we have it to the height we need, we'll be able to free him."
"Can you give him something for the pain first?"
"Sorry, we can't give him any pain killers until we know the extent of his injuries. I won't kid you, man; this is going to hurt like hell. But we'll try to limit the pain as much as possible."
Hutch felt ready to explode. "Limit it? You're going to be cutting right next to his fucking leg with a fucking chainsaw! How the hell can you limit his pain? Tell me, please, 'cause I'm really curious to know."
"Hutch. H-hutch." Starsky's whispering finally got the blond's attention. "Don't scare the guy holding the chainsaw…I wan-wan't to keep my leg."
Starsky was right as usual, so with a light pat to his friend's chest, Hutch did his best to apologize. "Um, so…how do we keep him comfortable while you cut the steel?"
The red head was wrapping gauze around the entry and exit holes on Starsky's leg as he explained the details Hutch was seeking. "First, when I'm done packing this around the wound, we need to lift his leg about six inches to get the equipment safely underneath. Then, while Jack holds the leg steady, I'm going to cut the rebar away from the cement it's attached to. Now, because this is going to vibrate the steel and possibly heat it up, Frank is going to pour cold water over the metal while I cut-"
"Heat up?" Hutch felt the panic begin to rise again and tried to swallow it down.
"Yeah, friction can build up pretty good, and we don't want the detective to have burns on top of everything else. Anyway, I'm going to cut through the rod about 2 inches from the entry wound. Then we should able to stabilize him for the trip to the hospital."
"This is gonna work, right? I mean, it's not going to make it worse?" Shit, Hutch was becoming a wreck, but he wasn't sure he could help himself.
Setting down the chainsaw and donning heavy gloves the paramedic looked Hutch squarely in the eyes. "Look, to be totally honest….we can't guarantee anything. He's in pretty bad shape and until we get him to the hospital we won't know the full extent of his injuries. Anything could happen between now and then." The medic put his hand up stopping Hutch before he could speak. "But, we're his best chance at survival. This is what we do, man, and we're good at it."
The medic then pulled his goggles down over his eyes and signaled to the other's standing by. Hutch sat on the ground next to Starsky's left shoulder and placed his hand firmly on his chest. "Ready?"
"As… ever." Starsky was scared, Hutch knew, but he also saw determination in the serious eyes and heard it in the soft answer.
Hutch looked back towards Jack and nodded that they were ready.
"Okay, just make sure you hold him still." Then Jack firmly placed his hands on Starsky's leg and began to lift.
Starsky screamed.
"Hold him still!" Jack ordered as he continued to lift the leg little by little.
Hutch had to push on Starsky's shoulders to keep the man from sitting up and shifting the injured leg, but even worse, he had to ignore Starsky's agonized pleas to stop. "It's almost over. They're almost done. Hang on, hang on." Hutch repeated over and over in what had become his mantra.
Starsky was pushing his lips together until they were only colored by smears of blood in an effort not to cry out again. Hutch prayed that Starsky would pass out from the pain; a
selfish thought, he knew, but he couldn't stand watching his best friend suffer such torture, especially at his hands.
Hutch heard Jack give the 'okay' to the man holding the saw and felt a wave of apprehension quiver through his stomach. A small crowd of firemen and police officers was gathered around the scene, watching. Hutch caught his captain's eyes and gave a nod. Dobey nodded back, reassuring Hutch.
"Detective?"
"Huh?" Hutch realized that Jack had been speaking to him, but for the life of him, Hutch had no idea what he'd been saying. He needed to get control of himself and pay attention, for Starsky's sake.
"We're ready to cut. You need to cover his body with this blanket and pull it over you, too. Don't want any flying sparks burning you."
Hutch immediately grabbed the heavy blanket and laid it over Starsky's torso. "Kay. Thanks." Hutch then pulled the blanket over his legs and held one end up shielding both their faces. "Give us a minute, will you, Jack?"
Jack signaled the others to wait while Hutch took a moment to assess his partner's condition. Leaning close to Starsky's ear he began to talk to a low serious tone. "I don't know how this is going to feel, Buddy. Jack says it's probably going to be pretty painful."
"W…worse than…than before? Shi…it, Hu…utch." Starsky's entire body was trembling in shock, and Hutch could see that he was giving every last bit of strength to the fight.
"Yeah, it's shitty. But I need you to hang on just a little longer. For me, okay?"
Several hiccups of air were forced from Starsky's lungs along with another trickle of blood. "Don't…know if…if I can. Hur…hurts, Hut…" His eyes began to roll back before he could finish.
"His stats are dropping! We need to do this now." A paramedic shouted while opening the IV up further.
With his free hand, Hutch lightly slapped the wan face. "Damn it, Starsky. You are going to hold on until I tell you. Do you hear me? Or do I need to get Dobey over here to make that an order? Starsky!"
Part Three
Slowly the closed eyes began to flutter and Hutch could see a sliver of blue showing through. "That's it. Come on, Starsky. Come on!"
"St…stop yellin'. They can…hear you all the way…in…in Mexico." Starsky opened his eyes as he whispered the words to Hutch.
"You need to stay with me so I don't have to yell."
The paramedic monitoring Starsky's condition looked directly at Hutch, surprise registering on his face. "His blood pressure is better, but he's still losing too much blood. We need to do this now."
Taking Starsky's hand in his while still holding the cover over them with the other, Hutch nodded to Starsky then the man at the monitor. "We're ready."
The sound of the gas powered saw revving caused a startled twitch from Starsky, who then squeezed Hutch's hand tightly against the pain. "Easy there, buddy. I may need that hand when this is over."
"Ya aim better with…you're other one." Starsky coughed out between gasps for air.
Hutch gave him back a subtle squeeze of the hand. "That's funny coming from a leftie." He was yelling to be heard above the ear-splitting noise of the rescue machinery, and realized that the only reason he could hear Starsky was because he was reading his partner's lips. How long had be able to do that, he wondered?
Starsky's hand was cold despite the heat of the night; almost deathly cold, taking Hutch's memory back to the first dead body he found when he was still in uniform. A young woman had OD'd in her hotel room, and it was his job to decide if they needed to call an ambulance or the morgue; or at least that's what the Sergeant on scene had ordered. The girl was about 22 and wore clothes popular among the Bohemian set. Her face, obviously once pretty, had a bluish pallor while dried white spittle clung to the area around her mouth in tiny crystals. He felt for a pulse in her arm first, not wanting to get his hand near the vomit drooled down her neck; the hand was cold. She was dead and beginning to stiffen.
For a moment he saw that dead girl when he looked at Starsky and felt the chilled skin of his hand. And, for a moment, Hutch felt the panic begin to beat in his chest. It wasn't until Starsky yelled out in pain that he was drawn back to the reality that his friend was alive and suffering.
Hutch couldn't see the work the men were doing, but he could feel the vibration of the saw shudder through Starsky's body. Small grunts of pain escaped from him as the saw first began its work, and Hutch could feel the warmth of Starsky's tears sliding across his bare arm. But as the vibrations turned into larger jerking movements, the small cries of pain turned into deep, ragged cries as Starsky begged Hutch to make the workers stop.
"Arrgh, my leg…Hutch. It burns man, it burns." Hutch could smell the cloying scent of burning flesh, but knew Frank and his men were doing everything possible to minimize the damage; there just wasn't any way around the pain. "Make it stop, please, Hutch, please, oh God, please."
The begging was eating away at Hutch and it took all of his will to continue holding his friend still. Would Starsky ever forgive him, he wondered? Would he ever forgive himself? Could he?
"It's almost over, Starsk. Shh, we're almost through this. I promise, we're almost through this." God, he hoped he was right.
As if reading his mind, the loud noise finally stopped and the blanket was pulled quickly back. Jack was right there with an oxygen mask ready to place over Starsky's mouth and nose. Hutch looked up at Jack, his eyes wide with alarm, when he realized the tears he'd felt were actually blood droplets from his partner's mouth.
"We need to get him to the hospital." Jack stated as he moved to place the mask on Starsky.
"Please Hush, make 'emsop.?" Starsky asked slurring his words and looking at Hutch through half opened eyes.
Hutch forced a smile as he caressed a damp curl from Starsky's forehead. "It's over, Starsk. You made it." Hutch nodded for Jack to place the mask as Starsky closed his eyes, finally succumbing to exhaustion.
Carefully the paramedics secured Starsky's leg before rolling his unconscious form onto a backboard and then onto a gurney. More IV's were added to the numerous tubes already snaking from his bruised and bloody arms. He was then carefully lifted into the waiting ambulance and whisked away.
Hutch stood watching as the swirling light grew dimmer in the distance.
O0O
Once again Hutch's legs had stiffened making the climb out of Captain Dobey's car impossible without the beefy mans help. The anxious walk into the Emergency room of Bay City General was painfully slow because of it, and Hutch was covered in a fine sheen of sweat by the time he and Dobey stepped up to the desk.
Hutch absentmindedly picked at the dried blood crusted in his arm hair as he waited for the nurse to face him.
Finally he couldn't take the wait any longer. "Hey, a little help here." He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs to get her attention, to add a few expletives, even; he just didn't have any strength left, so his demand came out more like a firm request.
The nurse turned and took in both men. "You're here for the officer who was just brought in?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"Detective." Hutch corrected. "He's my partner…"
"And I'm his Captain. How is he?"
The nurse set down the files she was holding and nodded toward the large double doors marked Trauma. "He's in there. The best trauma team we have is with him right now, but it's only been a few minutes since he arrived. Too early for any word, yet. If you wait over there," this time she nodded toward the half full waiting room. "I'll have the doctor come talk to you when he's able."
"I don't want to wait!" Hutch exploded. "I want to know how my partner is doing."
A thick hand landed on Hutch's shoulder; a warning from Dobey.
"He was alive when they brought him in, Detective. That's all I can tell you until the Doctor is finished. If you would just wait over there…"
"Jesus Christ, Lady. I just said I don't…"
"Hutchinson!"
The sharp bark of Dobey's voice immediately snapped Hutch out of his rage. He looked helplessly at his captain, unsure of what to do next.
"We're going in there to sit down and wait for the doctor." The orders were short and straightforward and exactly what Hutch needed right now, so with slouching shoulders he began to shuffle his way to the waiting room.
"Detective." The nurse called out behind him.
"What?" Hutch mumbled, not bothering to turn towards her.
"You're bleeding."
"What?"
The nurse repeated her statement more emphatically. "You are bleeding."
Stopped his slow shuffle, Hutch looked down to where the captain was looking. Sure enough, wet, red stains were coloring his pants and more was smeared on the floor marking his path from the desk. "Well…crap."
Dobey quickly grabbed his waist as Hutch crumpled to ground.
O0O
"I'm good. I'm good. It's okay." Hutch sat on the white linoleum floor breathing deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Every few seconds he would spit into the emesis basin the nurse held below his chin, trying his best not to vomit.
Slowly the vertigo that knocked him to the ground faded, and reality came sifting back. He attempted to stand only to have Dobey push him back solidly to the floor.
"You need to wait until you're not shaking any more, Hutch."
The Captain was right, he was shaking again. Miserable, Hutch looked at Dobey "I'm good now, Captain."
"I'll be the judge of that, Detective." It was a new voice, but one Hutch recognized. When he glanced up, squinting against the lights that were suddenly too bright, he knew it was the doctor who had treated his dog bites.
Hutch groaned unhappily as he was lifted into a wheelchair and turned toward an open room further away from Starsky.
Before they had a chance to move, though, the double doors to the trauma room swung open and a doctor dressed in bloody, blue scrubs stepped out. "Move faster and call Swanson."
The doctor held the door open as several frantic looking people dressed in blue scrubs pushed the gurney carrying Starsky, a bloody sheet covering one leg and part of his torso. A medic holding a clamp walked next to the gurney with his hand positioned over Starsky's injured leg and someone else stood at Starsky's head forcing air into the unconscious man's lungs.
What Hutch saw inside the emergency room, as brief as it was, would be burned into his memories forever; Blood was everywhere, as if a mad man had gone on a murderous, slashing rampage. Light streaks of crimson turned into darker, more copious puddles on the floor and even more was tracked over the linoleum in bloody foot prints. One small woman in blue slid gracelessly to her knees in the mess before shouting out for someone to clean up the 'damn' blood. Another tossed gauze dripping with red over his shoulder until it landed with a wet splat next to the nurse rising from her knees. She responded with profanity before stripping off her gloves and tossing them aside, also.
Could all that be from Starsky, Hutch wondered as he felt the buzzing in his head begin to accelerate at a faster pace.
O0O
"Slow breaths, Ken. You need to slow your breathing." Doctor Chafee held Hutch's wrist and moved his lips silently as he counted.
The vertigo was beginning to fade as Hutch was able to get some deep breaths into his starving lungs. All he could see was blood: Blood all over Starsky, all over the floor, all over him. He was pretty sure he was going to be sick.
Doctor Chafee let Hutch's hand drop and raised his brow with a sternness matching Dobey's. "When is the last time you ate? And did you take the pain pills I gave you?"
"Um…" Hutch found concentrating extremely difficult right now. "We…we were going to get something at Huggy's before Starsky…before the…before."
"I'll take that as a "no" on the food. Did you take your medicine?" Hutch nodded weakly. The doctor sighed in frustration. "I'll talk to you about how foolish that was later. In the meantime, though, Nurse, get a suture kit ready. I need to re-sew our patient. Oh, and get him something to eat before he passes out from starvation."
Hutch had forgotten Captain Dobey was there until the man spoke. "How is he?"
"He'll be good as new in no time." A twinkle sparkled in his eye. "But listen to me Detective and listen carefully. Looking after you twice in one day is too much. I have better things to do than patch you up, like playing golf. Understand? Now, I'll get you fixed up and then go check on your friend."
Hutch silently nodded his understanding as the strong arms of Dobey and the nurse helped him to stand, albeit, slowly. He was handed a white and yellow gown and told to strip while the nurse left to procure him a hot meal. The captain turned his head to stare at an antiquated ear, nose, throat chart, giving Hutch a least a small amount of privacy to change.
Hutch knew his captain was staying close in case Hutch needed him, and for that he was grateful.
O0O
Hutch used his spork to push the warm food around on his plate, mixing the gravy covered meat with the dry rice and then separating them again. He'd been able to down a few peas and attempted to swallow the meat whenever Dobey look his way, but he honestly wasn't hungry.
All the food and smells associated with it were making his nausea worse.
Just as Dobey started to speak, probably to encourage Hutch to eat, Dr. Chafee stepped through the curtains with another doctor. This doctor was older than Chafee by at least 20 years, Hutch guessed, and looked ready to fall asleep right there in the room.
Hutch swallowed thickly and pushed his tray aside.
"This is Doctor Masters. He performed the surgery on Sergeant Starsky." Hutch tried to read Dr. Chafee's expression, but it was neutral, as was the older surgeons.
"Do you mind if I sit?" He grabbed a chair and sighing with relief lowered himself onto the seat. "Your friend is a very lucky man to be alive. Falling over forty feet ..." He shook his head at the thought.
Hutch sat forward. "How is he? Can…can I see him?"
"He's still in recovery, but you can wait in his room until he's brought in, if you wish." Dr. Masters took a deep breath and looked intently at Hutch.
"I'm not going to lie to you. He's had massive blood loss and we almost lost him in there. Beside the muscle damage and gaping hole in his leg, he punctured a lung and had a compound dislocation of his right shoulder. He also has a pretty good concussion and we're going to be keeping a close on him in case there is internal bleeding. And, well, after a fall like that, it's almost expected."
Hutch couldn't believe what he was hearing: Massive blood loss, fracture, concussion. Couldn't they tell right now if he was bleeding internally or not? "He's going to make it, though, right?"
Captain Dobey stepped closer as the doctor answered. "Barring any complication I would expect him to recover fully. I think for now, though, we just need to let him sleep and heal."
Doctor Chafee stepped in. "David is being kept highly sedated until his body has a chance to recover. A patient, who experiences the amount of trauma your partner has, tends to heal more quickly if pain can be limited."
"How long?"
It was Doctor Chafee who answered once again. "Several days. Then we'll reassess him. If his healing is progressing, then we'll let him begin to wake up gradually."
Hutch didn't know if he should laugh or cry. "I want to stay with him in his room. He'll know I'm there."
"I don't think that is wise, he needs to be completely-"
"He needs to have his friends. I think that can be arranged, Detective." Dr. Chafee ignored the indignant look Dr. Masters was giving him as he helped Hutch stand. "I don't know if he'll hear you, but I think he'll know your there. And I think it will do you both some good."
Dr. Masters shook his head and took his leave with a polite nod to both the Captain and Hutch, then Hutch made his way up to ICU with the help of both men, to wait for his best friend.
O0O
Hutch sat in his chair watching Starsky sleep, astonished at how young the man looked. They were both young, but the years of hard police work sometimes made Hutch feel like he was prematurely aging. The extra hair left in his brush every morning did nothing to calm his fears about that. The last couple of years, though, seemed to be taking an extra hard toll on his friend, if the stress lines often found around his eyes were any indication.
Hutch studied the handsome features on Starsky's face noticing that the faint marks were gone and his face was smooth as if all his cares had also vanished. Hutch supposed, with a small smile, that, for the moment at least, they had.
The thought was actually a relief to Hutch after the last three days of watching Starsky struggle through immense pain and another surgery to stop an infection. The whole thing had been a nightmare, really.
Although Starsky was continually unconscious throughout the entire ordeal, Hutch had noticed a grimace of pain on his face, and deep ridges forming around his eyes and mouth. Despite the increased pain medication, the ridges only worsened as the days wore on.
It was on the morning of the third day, while Hutch was taking a few moments to wash up, that the doctor decided none of the antibiotics were working and Starsky was once again taken into surgery; this time to drain the infection in his leg before sepsis set in.
Pacing the hall outside of room 305, dreading the news that Starsky would lose his leg, but fearing even more that he would lose his life, Hutch noticed a group of nurses decorating the reception desk with sparkling lights and Christmas colored ribbons. One
was singing a loud and lively version of Jingle Bell Rock while the other two lightly bickered about where to hang the plastic mistletoe.
Hutch took a moment out of his frenetic pacing that day, to pause, watching them skirt about with holiday excitement in their voices. Then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a dime; he was pretty sure he'd seen a payphone near the elevator.
A day later he was sitting in the same hard chair watching Starsky sleep.
"How's he doing?" Hutch was startled from his thoughts by the lanky black man who marched into the hospital room like he owned the place and strutted over to the bed on which Starsky lay sleeping. "He wake up yet?" Huggy asked leaning in for a close look at Starsky's face.
"Not yet, Hug. His doctor says there's no reason he shouldn't wake up soon, though. His fever's down and the infection appears to be clearing up." Hutch paused and took a long moment to look at Starsky. With a wistful sigh he continued. "Just a matter of time, I suppose. I just wish it was soon; it doesn't seem right that I'm the one doing all the talking."
"You know Curley's just getting some beauty sleep, Hutch. Besides, he gets hungry enough, he'll wake up."
At the joke, Hutch smiled; it was good to have his friends here. At one time or another they had all come by to relieve him of his vigil so he could shower or run down to the cafeteria to eat. Even Ben had come by with his mom to visit on more than one occasion. A hand colored picture of the young man's favorite baseball player was taped above Starsky's bed, as a personal get well from the family. The bed was also surrounded by fresh flower arrangement as well as balloons and dozens of get well cards, all from well wishers and friends. Starsky would be pleased to know how many people care about him, Hutch thought.
"Did you get everything taken care of?" The call he'd made while Starsky was in his last surgery was to Huggy, the one man Hutch could trust to take care of the surprise he planned for Starsky if…when he woke.
"Yeah, I got everything you asked for, plus some." Huggy was relaxing in his usual chair on the far side of Starsky, where he could keep an eye on the door as well as his friend. Old habits die hard, Hutch thought.
Standing to stretch, he calmly walked over to his unconscious friend, rubbing his thumb over Starsky's forehead. It was a habit he'd picked up while caring for Starsky, checking his face for fever every few hours to see if there was a change. More often than not, Starsky's skin seemed to get hotter, even to the point that his skin was no longer sweating. Now though, his temperature was cool, much to Hutch's relief.
"Go get yourself some jamocha from that repugnant chophouse they call a cafeteria. I swear, man, they must mix their beans with potato peels to get it tasting as fowl as they do. There ought to be a law against calling that slop coffee."
"I suppose I could use some caffeine, but I'm not sure I'd get any drinking what they offer." Hutch straightened the already crisp sheets around Starsky's chest. "Won't be long, Hug. If he starts to wake up, page me over the intercom, kay?"
Huggy pulled a magazine from the bed stand. "Sure, but take your time. We ain't going nowhere."
Hutch hated leaving, fearing the separation might be permanent each time he was away from Starsky. He knew it was paranoid of him, but what if? Whatif Starsky took a sudden turn for the worse while Hutch was out getting coffee? Whatif he stopped breathing, or his heart stopped, or the world came to an end. Whatif he lost his best friend?
Hutch ran a hand through his hair. No, it wasn't going to happen, the doctor had assured him Starsky was healing and out of the woods. A few weeks of therapy to get the strength back in his leg muscles and Starsky would be as good as new.
Hutch decided to trust the doctor, even if he couldn't trust the coffee.
0o0
Huggy had long gone and Hutch was alone in the dark room, the only light a faint glow from under the door. Betty, Starsky's night nurse, had already come in to check on her two best patients, as she liked to call them. Early on Hutch pointed out that he wasn't a patient, but Betty just shook her head in disagreement saying that Hutch needed as much looking after as his friend. And she did, too, look after Hutch, that is. She brought him a blanket and pillow; snacks from the nurses break room, juice from the cafeteria and on occasion, gave him a pat on his shoulders. She also changed the bandages on his legs and made sure he took his antibiotics on time.
Tonight, though, she whispered that David was doing well and with a warm smile and a pat on his shoulder, left him alone. Hutch was glad that she seemed to understand that he liked to spend the evening before sleep talking to Starsky. In fact, he was pretty sure she had rearranged her scheduled rounds to give him the alone time he needed.
Hutch pulled his chair close to the bed and took Starsky's hand in his, the white cast cold against his skin. "I talked to your mom again today. She said it's snowing and that your brother shoveled the front walk for her. He also brought a tree home from the lot owned by the brother of the girl you had a crush on in grade school. She said you'd know who I was talking about. I swear buddy, you've had so many women in your life you need a file cabinet to keep track of them."
"Jealous?" The softly rasped words were almost missed by Hutch, but the flickering of eyelashes convinced him that he was not imagining things.
"Starsky? Starsky!" Quickly rising, Hutch almost toppled his chair.
When he looked, Starsky was watching him with tired eyes, but he was awake. Hutch grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand and held the straw for him to drink. After a few sips, Starsky pulled his mouth away and closed his eyes.
"Ben?" He asked, a little more strength to his voice.
"Ben's fine, buddy. In fact, he's the one who sent help. He's a hero, Starsk."
The blue eyes opened ever so slightly, a look of confusion of Starsky's face. "But the wind, and… he was so scared."
Hutch gripped his hand in reassurance. "He was scared. But when you fell, well, that scared him worse and he climbed down all on his own to check on you. He even told his mom where to find us, Starsk. He clearly spoke to her."
"B…en spoke in sentences?" A small cough at the end of the question turned into gasping for breath, so Hutch helped him sit up, wondering if he should call for help. Instead he brought the water to Starsky's lips again.
When Starsky was done, Hutch rearranged the pillow behind his head and fussed with the covers until he was sure Starsky was comfortable. "Yeah, he did. His mom said he's stopped running away, too."
"Good…good for him. He's a cute kid, wouldn't want…anything to happen to him." Hutch could see the fatigue stealing into Starsky's face and decided to let him sleep while he informed Betty of Starsky's waking.
"Hey, Hutch?" Starsky said with a yawn.
"Yeah?"
"I hate heights."
Hutch couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped, and realized he was actually giddy. "Yeah, I know. I know Starsk."
Starsky's eyes stayed closed this time and after a few seconds, he was breathing deeply in sleep. Hutch watched him for a while, relief washing over him; Starsky was safe, he was finally in a deep and seemingly restful sleep. He would heal. They both would.
Hutch used his thumb for one final sweep of Starsky's forehead. "Merry Christmas, Starsky."
Christmas was still 2 days away, but Hutch had his gift already, he had his partner, and no other gift could beat that.
Epilogue
"I don't know why I couldn't just stay at my apartment."
Hutch maneuvered around Starsky's wheelchair, assuring himself that Starsky was not going to fall out prematurely. "The only reason Dr. Masters released you this early was because I said I'd stay with you. And if I'm staying with you I don't plan on carrying your carcass up and down those stairs."
Starsky let out an irritated snort of air and set his jaw in a tight clench. Hutch immediately recognized the signs of pain, he'd seen them often enough the last week. Dr. Masters worked hard to control the pain his patient was dealing with, but short of knocking Starsky out again, there wasn't much more he could do; Starsky just had to heal.
A fear of being unaware made Starsky refuse any of the heavier narcotics Dr. Masters ordered, and Hutch supported that decision when talking to the doctor. However, they were able to come to a scale compromise; Starsky would take codeine with Tylenol when his pain got up to a six on a scale of one to ten.
Hutch knew he was at least at six after the jarring ride home. "You hurting, Starsk?"
"I'm fine."
Hutch wiped his hand over his face in frustration. Starsky could be beyond stubborn when he wanted. The man hated taking pills, and although he would never admit to it, had a fear of needles, too.
"Look, Starsky. I know you're upset about missing out on Reno, and I know you'd be more comfortable at home in your own bed." Hutch knelt down on his knee so Starsky didn't have to strain to see him. "But it's Christmas Eve, buddy. Can't you just try to have a little spirit?"
Starsky was looking at him, his dark blue eyes beginning to soften, although the lines of pain remained.
"Listen. We'll get inside, I'll give you your pain pills, we'll order a pizza and watch 'It's A Wonderful Life.' Whadaya say?"
"Anchovies?"
The question was so earnest, Hutch had to laugh. "Anything you want, Starsk. Anchovies, mushrooms, pickled ants…"
A slight smile came to Starsky's mouth. "Kay."
Since the accident and the subsequent operations on his leg, not to mention the broken arm, bruised lungs, concussion and whole plethora of multi colored bruises, Starsky's attitude had been subdued. Hutch was beginning to get worried that Starsky had not laughed since waking up several days ago.
Christmas always brought the boy out in Starsky, sometimes it was even contagious and Hutch would find that he, too, was feeling the Christmas spirit. But this year, Starsky had missed out on finding a tree, decorating the house, sitting around singing carols and eating enough cookies to make even Santa sick.
Hopefully, the surprise Hutch had planned with the help of Huggy would be enough to snap Starsky out of his funk. Then, if all the healing went well, Hutch would take Starsky to the resort in Tahoe where he could sit around the fire place attracting young woman with a need to pamper the handsome young hero. But that was still far off; first they had to get through Christmas.
Pushing the wheelchair to the front door of his home, Hutch set the brakes and pulled the key from above the door. Starsky snorted, but said nothing about safety, and for once, Hutch wished he would.
Hutch pushed the door open enough for the wheelchair to pass through, and as they entered Hutch was sure he had gone to the wrong address.
Before his eyes was a winter wonderland festive enough to rival any mountain resort. A large, flocked tree stood by the window, decorated with enough lights to guarantee he spent his entire pay check on the electric bill. Poinsettias stood tall and red on the dinner table while pine boughs hung from every doorway and above the fire place.
A fireplace! Huggy had brought in a false brick fireplace that had glowing logs "burning" in it, casting a warm glow through the house. Stockings hung from the mantle and the most beautiful bisque crèche stood silent watch above them.
Decorations were everywhere and the house smelled like gingerbread, mulled wine, and fresh pine.
But best of all, though, Huggy had invited all their friends for the celebration and it appeared that they had all come. Smiles greeted both men as they stood in the doorway.
"Merry Christmas, Starsky." Hutch said looking to his friend. Huggy had gone way beyond the quiet little Christmas gathering Hutch asked for, and he really, really hoped Starsky liked it.
Starsky, however, looked shocked. "Uh…Hutch?"
"Y..yeah?" Hutch was beginning to doubt his brilliant plan was ever a good idea. Why did he think Starsky would want anything to do with Christmas after what he'd been through and with how cruddy he was feeling? Maybe they should just go to Starsky's apartment after all.
"Is this real? Am I really seeing this?" Starsky was sounding almost freaked out and Hutch's stomach dropped.
"Um..yeah, it's real."
Then with a brightness in his eyes that Hutch thought might be a tear, Starsky asked. "You…you did this for me?"
Hutch realized at that moment that it wasn't disappointment or fear in Starsky's expression, it was amazement. Starsky wasn't upset because he had to stay at Hutch's apartment, or that they weren't going to Tahoe. Starsky was upset because he thought he'd missed Christmas.
"We did this for you, Partner. All of us." Hutch used his arm to gesture toward all the guests in his house, then placed it on Starsky's shoulder.
"Wow, Hutch. I really don't know…I mean, I'm…it's all so…" Starsky swallowed hard before continuing. "Thank you. This…means a lot to me."
"You mean a lot to us, Starsky." Hutch took hold of the handles on the chair and moved Starsky, smile and all, into the crowd of waiting friends.
Immediately he was swamped by one well wisher after another, and he looked to be enjoying every last minute of it. Starsky especially seemed be enjoying the attention of several young stewardesses both men knew.
Hutch took a few moments out of Starsky's big night to give him his pain killers, but made up for the interruption by giving him a glass of eggnog…alcohol free of course. Starsky didn't seem to mind at all and kept up with the activities to the best of his ability.
Finally, when Hutch saw the pain lines return and the glazed over look in his partner's eyes, he pulled out his guitar and they sat around singing carols till well past midnight on Christmas day.
Starsky was asleep in his chair, his head fallen forward on his chest, when the last of the guests left. Hutch was tempted to let him continue sleeping right there, but knew by morning both he and Starsky would regret that decision. So, with more prodding than was usually necessary, Hutch got his friend to wake and together they got him into bed.
"You need anything, Starsk?" Hutch asked setting a glass of water on the nightstand.
"Naw, m'good." Starsky's voice was sleep slurred as he answered.
"Well then, get some sleep. We'll open presents in the morning."
"Presents." Starsky almost purred.
Hutch was just stepping out the bedroom door when he thought of something he'd been meaning to ask Starsky for quite a while. "Hey, Starsk?"
"Hmmm."
"What deal did you make with Dobey to get us Christmas off?" Hutch stayed in the doorway curious for an answer.
"I tol 'em we'd work the newears prade."
Hutch shook his head, not willing to believe what he thought Starsky just told him. "You told him we'd what?"
"Newears."
"Did you say New Year's parade? Starsky? New Year's?" All was silent except for a soft snore coming from the bed. "Starsky….Starsky!"
Hutch was furious that Starsky gave up his…Their...New Year's Day without even consulting him and was tempted to wake Starsky up for an answer. But then he looked at the healing bruises, and casted arm, the wheelchair sitting across the room and decided revenge could wait till after Christmas. For now, he would just enjoy the company of his best friend and rejoice in the fact that they survived another year on the streets of Bay City.
The End