Chapter 21 - and two chapters published together today

Hutch sat at the window of the small ICU room looking in at the still, fragile, vulnerable body of his friend. The blond's arms rested on the back of chair as his chin rested on his steepled fingers, the similarity between this time and a time four years ago was not lost on him and this time he felt equally as hopeless and helpless.

Times had moved on. Hospitals had changed in those four years. Now, the ventilator artificially inflating the brunet's lungs was smaller although no less invasive. The hose connecting his partner to the machine was smaller, whiter, but no less important as it oxygenated the smaller man's body. The crash trolley that had been used already was neater, smarter and more modern, but no less impressive. Two charges at 240 had been needed to jolt Starsky's tortured heart into movement again.

At the same time Hutch's hair was shorter, his moustache was gone and he carried less weight although there more worry lines around his eyes. Those eyes still sparkled crystal blue and had the ability to fix someone – flake, friend or lover with a hypnotic gaze, but now they were clouded with worry.

Starsky too showed the passage of a few years. He had the first flecks of grey clustered around his temples and more scars than he cared to count spread across his chest and back. His body was still lean, lithe and hard, but now, occasionally when the weather turned damp or cool, there was a hitch to the breath and a slight limp in the walk. Indigo eyes that still held a mischievous twinkle also exuded a new self confidence and also a little more patience than they used to, but now those eyes remained closed, shutting out the world and his best friend.

Whatever had happened to the buddies, however, their friendship remained, enhanced now by adversity – stronger, firmer, more resolute than ever before. That friendship now, however, was both a source of comfort and a burden to the flaxen haired cop. The bond gave him the merest shadow of hope that once again Starsky would pull through while the same bond burdened him with such a feeling of hurt that he felt as though he could hardly breathe.

The room was quiet, dim and warm, but the pane of glass still isolated Hutch from his partner, and although no-one had told him that he couldn't go in to be with his buddy, Hutch felt almost scared to be in the same room as Starsky. Funny that after all these years of their partnership he should suddenly feel as though his very presence would somehow jeopardise the brunet's recovery. The machines continued to beep their incessant message of hope that Starsky was alive and still fighting. Tubes ran from every portion of the brunet's anatomy. Drip feeds fed one into a port on Starsky's chest and one into the back of his left hand and a tube ran from the crease of his elbow to the dialysis machine. A catheter fed into a bag dangling from the side of the bed and a naso-gastric tube exited his nose and was taped to the side of his cheek.

Hutch looked up as another figure came into view, outlined in the reflection of the window. The lanky black man stood silently by his friend and watched the curly haired cop. Gently he placed a hand on Hutch's arm.

'He's gonna be ok' he assured the blond.

'Is he? We've been this way before Hug.'

'Yeah, an' look what happened then huh? He made it through then and he will again. Starsky's a fighter. He'd never give up, 'specially if he knows you're here.'

'He made it four years ago, yeah. But he was four years younger then, an' it was Gunther's bullets and not his freakin' maniac of a daughter that got him. They told him then he couldn't keep puttin' his life on the line. A body can only take so much Hug, an' sooner or later the grim reaper decides enough is enough.' Hutch looked up into Huggy's soulful brown eyes and smiled weakly. 'They lost him twice in the ambulance on the way here.'

'Yeah, an' each time you yellin' his name brought him back. As I recall you weren't in real good shape yourself but that second time you shot off your gurney and more or less ordered him to breathe. You saved his life man.'

'Ordered him? Yeah, well. When did ya ever see Starsk follow an order?'

'When you're hurtin' he'll do anythin'for ya Blondie. You know that' Huggy said softly. 'You really should be in there with him ya know.'

'I know. I just…. I ff….I feel like this is all my fault somehow. Like if I'd never met up with Sue, we'd both still be fine.'

'Oh for heaven's sake, how in Gods name can you be so dim? Are ya sure you passed the cop's exams? You didn't meet her. She stalked you. For four full years she stalked the two of ya until she could take her revenge. This aint nothin' to do with you Blondie. This is to do with James Gunther. If it hadn't been her going out with ya, she'd have found some other way to get to you and Starsky. Now for God's sake get in there an' be with him huh? He needed you in the ambulance an' now he needs ya even more' Huggy said sternly. His eyes glinted and he trembled with emotion and suddenly Hutch's face split into a grin.

'You're magnificent when you're angry' he said.

'Uh huh. I also pack a mean punch, which I'll be glad to show ya if you don't get your butt inside that room right now.'

Stiffly, Hutch stood up from the chair, swayed and leaned heavily on the window until the world stopped shimmying around him. Huggy held onto him but nothing could disguise the sudden pallor and the trembling hands and a moment later a nurse rushed over, asking if the blond was ok.

'Huh? Oh um….yeah. Yeah I'm fine' he said, a little dazedly.

'I don't think so sir. I think you should come with me and we can get you checked out.'

'No, I gotta go in there. I need to be with him. I….damn.' Hutch stumbled against the wall as a wash of weakness flowed over him. Immediately the nurse caught a hold of him with Huggy on the other side. The woman looked up into Hutch's face, concern written all over her pretty features.

'You were in here a couple of days ago weren't you?'

'Yeah, I….I needed to get out. I needed to find my partner' Hutch mumbled.

'Well now you have. Now you need to deal with your own health. You aren't gonna be able to look out for him if you're sick' the nurse chided gently.

'I need to be in there with him. There's no way I'm gonna let him out of my site any time soon. I did that once before and look what happened.' The blond batted both sets of hands away and swayed weakly towards the door of the ICU room. Huggy held the woman back with a brief shake of his head as he watched the flaxen haired cop make his way to his partner's side.

'They've been through a lot' the black man explained. 'I think he'd recover quicker if they were both together.'

Inside the room, Hutch paused just inside the doorway and watched the ventilator inflate Starsky's lungs with a quiet hiss whoosh. Slowly he walked forward until he was by the side of the bed and he pulled up the hard plastic chair until he could sit by the side of the brunet's head. Starsky's eyes remained closed and gently Hutch put his hand over his partner's, feeling the hot dry skin. Fans blew across the olive toned but terribly damaged body desperately trying to cool the brunet and drive away the high fever ravaging his body.

Earlier, the doctor had explained Starsky's condition to Hutch in blunt and uncompromising terms. The brunet had a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder and a broken collar bone. His jaw was also broken and had been wired to ensure he lost no teeth and to keep the bones in place. Two ribs were broken but it was a miracle that they had done no damage to the underlying organs. But it was Starsky's back that was causing worry all round. Several blows from the goon's bats had landed on his upper back and an x-ray revealed that one of his vertebrae had been damaged and his kidneys had been bruised causing them to shut down. Right now the brunet was on dialysis and it was hoped that with rest and assistance, they begin to function again spontaneously. Bruises overlay what looked like the marks of whips across a large portion of Starsky's anatomy and his eye remained bruised and swollen although the ophthalmic team had said there would be no lasting impairment to the brunet's sight.

Hutch had listened to the litany of injuries and with the description of each one, his temperature had risen in line with his anger at the snake-like woman who'd hurt the both of them.

Gently. the blond squeezed his partner's hand. 'It's gonna be ok Starsk. I'm here. We've been this way before huh? You fought like a lion then. You surprised everyone. Well, everyone 'cept me. I knew you could do it. Like I know you can do it again now. You have to, ya hear me? I can't do this without you. We're gonna nail that bitch, but I can't do that without you there with me Gordo.'

Hutch sighed, his forehead resting on the white sheet of his partner's bed. He was tired, sick, weak, but he was still here. Not going anywhere and he'd remain there as long as Starsky needed him. The blond's eyes closed and he fought the wave of weariness, scrubbing his hands over his face to try to remain awake. But in his own words, the body can only take so much and Hutch's body was telling him that he needed to rest and to sleep. Despite his best efforts, the flaxen haired cop's eyes slid closed and his body relaxed so that he slumped onto the bed at the side of the brunet.

Hours later, he woke again and for a moment couldn't understand exactly where he was. When he'd fallen asleep, he was in the chair in the dimly lit room by Starsky's limp body, the quiet beeps and hisses of the machinery lulling him to sleep. Now, however, he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, although the quiet noises of the medical machinery were still there in the background. Hutch's sleep befuddled mind refused to take in the change for a moment and he panicked, thinking that once again he'd been separated from the brunet. He sat upright in bed and immediately regretted the action when his head swam and the room dipped to the left. He put a hand up to his head and was surprised to see a drip feed cannula had been reinserted into the back of his hand, but as he looked around, Hutch realised that somehow, he'd been placed in the bed next to Starsky's and his clothes had been removed to be replaced by a set of white scrubs.

Thankful that he was still by his partner's side, the flaxen haired cop threw back the sheet covering his body, grabbed a hold of the drip stand and, leaning heavily on it, he padded back over to the other bed. He felt marginally better and wondered how long he'd been out. By the feel of the bristles on his chin he thought at least 12 hours, maybe longer and he examined his partner for any changes.

The fans had been stopped and sweat trickled down the sides of the handsome, bruised face marking that the high fever had finally broken. The intrusive ventilator had also been removed. Beneath translucent eyelids, Starsky's eyes moved as though he were dreaming and Hutch took a hold of his partner's hand, leaning over the bed.

'Starsky? Can ya hear me buddy? Can you open your eyes for me huh?' he said softly, examining his friends face for any signs of reaction. There was none and the blond sighed, collapsing back onto the chair.

'Starsk, c'mon buddy. I need ya. I just need to hear ya. I just…. Oh God. What'm I talkin' about? Huh? What am I talkin' about?' Hutch put his head in his hands, biting at his bottom lip pensively. There was silence for a moment before he heard the tiny sound floating on the air between them.

'Utch…sh?'

In a second, Hutch was on his feet again, staring earnestly into Starsky's face. Although neither eye opened, cracked and broken lips worked hard and another sound was pushed out.

'Wanna….go…..home.'