----27th December ----
Very slowly Starsky slipped his thumb nail under the sealed lip of the envelope and slid it along, breaking the seal. Inside there were several sheets of paper, neatly folded along their middles and he withdrew them. He read the top of the first sheet, the words blurring together as his tired eyes saw his partner's somewhat scrawling writing on the page.
Ya should'a been a doctor Blintz. No-one can read your writing anyway!
The sheet was headed
To Starsky
Hey partner, if you're reading this, then Doc March is right and I have got GBS. In which case I'm probably somewhere stuck on a few machines keeping me going. Look on it as a holiday away from my jibes at you huh?
So, there's a few things I need to tell you about stuff in general.
Mrs Kralevski next door will look after my plants. You water them too much and I want at least one of them to survive me. Tell her the baby fern needs somewhere darker – not direct sunlight.
I signed Venice Place over to your name, so do what you want with it. Maybe you can sell it and buy something better than that place you've got at the moment. As for my car, I know how much you really want it, but tear yourself away from it buddy. The big brother scheme was on the look out for cars for the older kids to learn in, so give it to them. I've left some money for insurance and stuff.
As to my other things. You've worn most of my clothes over the years anyway, so take what you like. I don't care about the rest. And my record collection is your too – try not to bake too many of them huh?'
At that Starsky smiled though the tears 'Sure buddy' he mumbled and took a deep breath before reading on.
If I die tell Mom and Dad, but don't say anything before that. It'll save them having to make up some pathetic excuse as to why they can't come visit. I don't want them here anyway. Tell my sister I love her.
As for funerals…..
The brunette hitched a breath, crumpling the papers in his hand.
This is too much Blondie. Don't make me do this. Please don't make me read this. You're still here and that's how it's gonna stay.
But the pragmatist in him took over. He'd promised the blond that he's read the letter, so he needed to fulfil that promise. Carefully he opened the paper out again, taking time to smooth out the creases he'd put into the plain white sheets. Taking a deep breath he resumed.
As for funerals…..
There are a few ground rules to lay down.
No-one should wear black
No stupid sentimental music
No tears
No recriminations
In fact, I'll make it simple – just throw me in the Ocean off Breakers Point!
Well that about wraps it up. Except for the most important thing.
Starsky
You've been the brother I never had, plus the Dad I always wanted and the Mom I could never have. You're my soulmate, my partner and my closest friend.
I'm sorry to do this to you. Selfishly I always wanted to be the one to go first, because I couldn't bear the thought of being the one to be left behind. I leave you my money, my house.
But most of all, I leave you my love.
Hutch
In the envelope with the letter were the documents for the car, but more importantly the deeds to Hutch's beloved apartment. Starsky fingered them lovingly, remembering the good times they had had there; the beers they'd drunk; the games of Monopoly that Hutch always seemed to win; the times they'd laughed about work and the times they'd cried over a woman. Could he ever go back in there again with the blond at his side?
Shakily he put the documents down and rested back in the chair, exhausted, wired, needing to sleep, but vowing he wouldn't until he knew how his partner was. He refused to think of Hutch in any other way. He was his partner and he always would be, no matter what. If Hutch didn't get over this they'd……No scrap that. Hutch would get over this and soon they'd be back out on the streets again. To think of any other scenario was just too damned painful.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Doctor Cole inserted the drug into the port in cannula in Hutch's arm, talking all the while. Although the blonde's eyes were closed he knew from experience that hearing was the last thing to go and so he kept up a steady stream of dialogue.
Hutch could hear what was going on, but at that particular moment all his energy was taken up with fighting with the muscles of his chest, forcing them to draw air into his body.
Ok sucker. This is not how it's gonna be. I am not gonna be stuck with some freaking hose pipe down my throat, hoping there isn't a power out. I will breathe on my own, even if it's the only fuckin' thing I can do for myself. If I don't do anything else I'm gonna win this battle.
Far off he heard Cole's voice talking to him.
'OK Hutch, I've just given you something to sedate you. I know you're having trouble breathing just now, so we need to do something about that. I'm going to but a tube down your throat and connect it to the respirator machine. It'll make it easier for you and then you won't have to worry about taking a breath. It'll do it all for you until you're well again'.
No, no, no you don't Doc. Please don't do that. I can bear everything else, but there's just no way I can let you do that. C'mon lungs, breathe why don't ya? C'mon concentrate. In yeah that's good now out great. See Hutchinson you're doin' it. Ya can do this if you concentrate.
But what if I go to sleep? What then?
Shudup and cross that bridge when ya come to it. One step at a time. Little steps….little steps.
Cole took up the silver laryngoscope and stretched the long tanned neck back to insert it between Hutch's teeth, but just as he was about to do that Grace stopped him.
'Stuart, I think he's making attempts to breathe on his own. Can you wait a minute?'
They both stopped, holding their own breaths as Hutch valiantly commanded his lungs to take the next breath in and then let it out. It was mechanical. Not easy, but he was doing it and the medics looked at each other, smiles on their faces.
Grace brushed Hutch's cheek with her finger gently. 'Well done Hutch honey. Keep on going. If you can keep this up, you've won the first battle' she encouraged.
Oh sure lady. I've won the first battle, but the war is still raging non stop. Need a little help here!
Hutch was aware of movements around him, but his eyes steadfastly refused to open and he concentrated so hard on his breathing anyway that he wasn't sure that he could focus on something else as well. But he listened in a distracted sort of way to the doctor's reassuring tone. Cole seemed to be reading his mind and he welcomed the fact that the young medic bent low to his ear to speak.
He could almost feel the breath on his ear as Stuart spoke to him.
'Hutch you're doing very well. If you can keep this up it'll be all the easier for you. But just in case you're worried, I'm going to connect you to another couple of machines. Don't worry, they aren't invasive. One is called a Cardiorespiratory Monitor. That will count both your breaths and heart beats. It will sound an alarm if the number of breaths or heartbeats go lower than a set number, so don't be afraid to rest huh?. The other monitor is a Pulse Oximeter This is a machine that tells how much oxygen is in the blood. I'm gonna put a cord with a sticky strip on your finger. The machine will alarm if it can't read the oxygen level or if you need more oxygen. I know they make annoying beeping noises, but you'll get used to them'.
'Can you blink or nod if you can hear me?'
Hutch tried to move his head, but nothing happened. It was as though he was encased in resin. Whatever he tried to move didn't work. His limbs felt heavy and lifeless and although he could feel people touching them, stroking them or pushing needles into them, he couldn't move them out of the way. He'd found it freaky enough not to be able to move his arms and legs, but now he couldn't move his head or his eyelids either he felt panic washing over him. The beeps on the heart monitor became more pronounced and closer together and to his credit, Stuart guessed what was going on.
'Hutch just rest huh? We knew the disease would do this didn't we? It's ok Pal. I know you can't move much now, but you're doing so well at breathing on your own. That's a big battle to have won, I don't want you to be discouraged'.
Discouraged? Who's discouraged? Freaked out, scared beyond words, but how could I be discouraged? I can breath on my own! Shit Hutchinson, listen to yourself. Breathe on your own! Well, ok, it's a big step. Big battle won. Now, where's Starsky? That's all I need now Doc. Just bring my partner back an' I'll be better huh?
Hutch felt the doctor and nurse leave and for a moment absolute panic hit him. He was on his own. In that lonely hospital room with no-one around, no method of shouting for anyone, no way of attracting attention.
What're ya gonna do Hutchie? Breathe at 'em? OK Ok calm down. Just concentrate. In and out. In and out. See, easy. You can do this. But what if…Shudup. There are no "What ifs". You aren't Amy Furness. You're not gonna die. You've got Starsky. He'll be here. He'll.
STARSKY!! Where are ya buddy? I need ya. Shit! Wish I could open my eyes. Where is he? Where's the curly one huh? What's that? What's that on my head? Shit its….its ok. It's him. Relax.
Starsky walked back into his partner's room just as Stuart and Grace were leaving. He met them in the corridor and looked at Grace's smiling face with questions in his eyes.
'He's breathing on his own' the nurse told him proudly.
'Yeah? That's a good sign?' he asked.
'The best! If he can keep that up it means the disease can't take total control. He's on monitors now and he could use the company, but he's breathing'.
'Thank God! I knew he could do it. He's so fuckin' stubborn even the germs can't get him huh?'
A slight cloud crossed Grace's face. 'There's just one thing. He's concentrating on breathing so well, he can't move anything else. Dave, he's trapped at the moment. Trapped in his own body and he can't communicate'. She said gently.
'S'ok. I can read his eyes'.
'No. You can't honey. He can't open them any more' she explained. 'He doesn't have any method of communication right now'.
Staggered, the brunette paused at the door to Hutch's room. The soft beeps of the machines only highlighted the lack of Hutchly wisdom flowing his way and Starsky wondered what it would be like to not hear his partner, but also not be able to see those ice blue eyes again. Shit partner. How're we gonna play this one huh?'