Fandom: Starsky and Hutch
Type: Modern-Day Alternate Universe
Prompt: Patient/Paramedic AU
-%-
CHAPTER I- Angels and Medics
Paramedic David Starsky turned down the fire radio behind him and settled deeper into his seat, the sun glinting off of his sunglasses. If he weren't superstitious, he would comment on how slow the day had been, but he'd been around the block enough times to be a believer in jinxes. He finished off the mountain dew from his lunch, the straw making a loud slurping sound. Still, it was nice that he'd had time to have a decent breakfast and lunch, and the only calls he'd gotten that day were a COPD exacerbation and his favourite drunk.
His partner this tour was a brand-new, red-headed EMT Basic named Arich Tippther (who Starsky had fondly nicknamed Tigger due to his bouncy disposition. He called him Tigg for short). Tigg was sitting next to him in the driver's seat of the ambulance, reading a book and happily munching on handfuls from a bag of Cheetos. Starsky regarded the boy for a moment, shaking his head after a while.
Tigg had just finished his field orientation and was what Starsky would call overeager. Not that it made him a bad provider; quite the contrary, Starsky could count on him for a whole lot. He just…really wanted to see major traumas, and the first thing he'd asked Starsky about were all his "cool" patient stories (meaning the gory ones). Starsky had humoured him and told him the gory ones—some of them had pretty good teaching points in them—But most of the time, if you were to ask Starsky about the "cool" calls, he'd happily tell you about that time he'd delivered triplets in the back of a station wagon, or when he'd talked to an actual 90 year old World War II veteran over a four hour long transport to hospice. Those were the stories really worth telling.
Tigg giggled suddenly, shaking Starsky out of his thoughts.
"Sorry. I just really like this book…" Tigg said when he saw that Starsky was looking at him. He showed Starsky the cover: Sir Apropos of Nothing. Starsky squinted at the book. What a strange title.
"What's it about?"
"You should read it for yourself, Dave! Wouldn't wanta ruin it for you," Tigg said, shoving another handful of Cheetos into his mouth.
Starsky shrugged. "Maybe I will, maybe I won't." He flicked the bag of Cheetos. "Hey, c'mon Tigg, aren't you gonna share?"
Tigg held the bag out to Starsky. "Take 'em," he said with his mouth full. "I've eaten way too many and this is like my 6th bag."
Starsky laughed as he took the bag and set it in his lap, grabbing a handful for himself.
-%-
The sun was sinking into the west, and the wind had started to pick up. The dark clouds that had started to creep over the city from the east cast a dull, gloomy shadow that was in high contrast to the beautiful reds, golds and purples at the other horizon. Starsky and Tigg had been moved to three different posts and had eaten dinner since their last call, and Starsky silently counted them lucky to have had the downtime. They were due to be off in an hour and a half, but something about the clouds (and the call that just went out on the fire radio) told Starsky that it just wasn't going to happen. Sure enough…
BEEP BEEP BEEP. "5059: I need you at San Jose and Marquette for a 29-Bravo-4; San Jose at Marquette, 29-Bravo-4."
Tigg snapped his book shut, started the engine, flipped on the lights, and started to pull out of the parking lot they were staged in. His eyes were wide and excited. Starsky put a hand on his shoulder.
"Cool it, Tigger. Seatbelt."
Tigg took a deep breath and nodded, stopping to put on his seatbelt at the outlet for the parking lot. "Yeah, sorry. Thanks."
Starsky smiled, shook his head, and picked up the radio. "5059, 10-4. We are enroute, code 3," he said, then switched them to med channel 5.
Tigg had good reason to be excited. A 29-Bravo-4 was a traffic accident with unknown injuries. These were often gambles and could range anywhere from a low-speed rear-ending to a vehicle vs pedestrian or bicyclist to a high-speed head-on collision or T-bone. Starsky mentally inventoried all the equipment he might need for the incident as they sped down the road. Spinal trauma: C-collar, back board, straps and padding. Limb trauma and laceration: Splints, pressure bandages, 5x9s, gauze, tourniquets and ice packs. Shock: Blankets, IV start kit, normal saline, narcs for pain control.
They came up to a red light and Starsky looked up out the window.
"Clear on your right, Tigg," he said.
Tigg chirped the sirens to warn off oncoming traffic and slowly pulled out into the intersection. "Thanks, Dave."
-%-
Their part of the scene wasn't as bad as Tigg had hoped it would be (Not that he wanted people to be critically hurt…he was just eager to use the skills he had learned. Starsky understood. He'd been there before). Police were already on scene controlling traffic and talking to bystanders by the time they arrived. They parked defensively, put on traffic vests, grabbed their gear, and headed towards the engine crew, who were extracting a patient from his car.
From what it looked like, a little red 1995 Nissan Maxima had gone up against a brown 1974 Ford Galaxie and lost. The whole front passenger's side of the Nissan was smashed and the Fire Ambulance was already loading the passenger into their rig while the police talked to the driver. Starsky and Tigg walked over to the Galaxie, which had a smashed-up front driver's side (though definitely not as bad as the Nissan). At least the windshield was somewhat intact and had no spiderwebbing; that was a good sign. The engine crew extricated the patient, a blonde man in a plaid shirt, and set him on the ground. His left foot was angled in an awkward position.
Starsky walked up and knelt next to the man, feeling his face growing hot. This guy would be gorgeous…that is, if he wasn't lying on the asphalt moaning in pain. Be professional, David, his brain admonished him.
"Hello, Sir, my name is David Starsky, I'm a Paramedic." He felt for pulses at the wrists and found them strong and rapid. "Can you tell me your name?"
The blonde man was groaning and said, "My leg…oh god, my leg…"
"Don't worry, we're gonna get your leg taken care of, ok?" Starsky said, counting respirations.
"I need vascular access, a blood pressure, a BGL, and somebody on C-spine! And can somebody please get direct pressure on that lac and splint his leg up for me?" Starsky said to Tigg and the Fire guys. They were already working as he turned back to look at the patient.
"Sir, can you tell me your name?"
The blonde man swallowed. "Ken…K-Ken Hutchinson," he said. "Ohh…Oh god, it hurts…"
"Ok, Mr. Hutchinson, If you could rate your pain on a scale of 1-10; ten being the worst pain you've ever felt—"
"Ten, dammit! Ughhhh…it's a ten!" Ken interrupted, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I've never hurt…so much in my life!"
"Ok. I know it hurts and I'm gonna take care of that real soon," Starsky said, taking Ken's hands into his. "But I need to find out a few things first. Could you squeeze my hands, please?"
Ken gave his hands a strong squeeze.
"Good," Starsky said, pinching Ken's pinkies between his own thumbs and forefingers. "Can you tell which fingers I'm touching?"
"Ghh…Pinkies," Ken said, his voice strained.
"Good, you're doing great," Starsky encouraged. "I'm gonna look for other injuries on your body, which means I have to touch you, ok?" Inwardly, he winced at how suggestive that sounded. Once Starsky was sure of the patient's consent, he began palpating Ken's head. Even through his gloves, he could tell that this guy's hair was really soft. He shook his head. Focus, David. Focus. No deformity or crepitus to the patient's head. Move on to the neck.
"Blood glucose is 99 and blood pressure is 144/98. Distal pulses present, strong and rapid at 120," Tigg interjected.
Starsky thanked Tigg and looked back at Ken. "I'm gonna ask you some questions, alright? Some of 'em may sound a little funny," he said as he palpated the back of Ken's neck for any deformities or step-offs, glad to find it normal. "Do you have any pain in your neck?"
Ken tried to shake his head, but the firefighter that was holding his neck held it steady and told him to relax. Ken waved at him to go away.
"My neck doesn't hurt! Nothing else hurts, it's just my...damn leg!"
Starsky told the firefighter he hadn't found any damage and gave the ok for him to let go. He took out his penlight and leaned over Ken. "Ok, I'm gonna shine a light in your eyes real quick, just look straight up at my forehead, ok? Can you tell me what Holiday's coming up?"
"Mm…Valentine's day?" Ken sounded unsure.
"Yeah, that's right. Very good…"
Starsky was amazed at how stunningly blue this guy's eyes were. He mentally kicked himself. Now was not the time to be checking someone out! He was grateful to see that Ken's pupils were equal and reactive…but he still hadn't ruled out head trauma. He shined the light around Ken's nose and ears looking for any blood or cerebrospinal fluid and was relieved to find none.
"When's your birthday?"
"Ughh...8-28-89—" Suddenly, the firefighter splinting Ken's leg made too sudden of a movement and Ken yelped, grabbing Starsky's sleeve. "Ohh, GOD...Please…my leg…hurts so much…"
"Ok, ok, I'll take care of it; just a couple more questions," Starsky said, rubbing Ken's shoulder reassuringly and taking his hand off his sleeve. He shot a look at the firefighter, making him frown and apologise. He looked back at Ken and rested a hand on his chest.
"I need to look at your chest, ok?"
"Okay."
Starsky felt his face getting hot again as he began unbuttoning Ken's shirt. He had to look at Ken's body to see if there were any other life threatening injuries. He couldn't do that very well with clothes in the way. He had to do it this way. No matter how hot the patient happened to be. He frowned as his shaking hands struggled with the buttons.
"Mr. Hutchinson, Do you know where you are?"
Ken blinked. "Uhh…I'm…mmmhh…I was just in a car accident…I don't—" he grimaced and groaned in pain again. "I don't know the…exact intersection...aghh…"
"Ok, that's fair," Starsky said, finally getting all of the buttons on Ken's shirt undone. "Let me know if anything hurts when I press on it."
He pressed on Ken's clavicles, which were stable, and watched Ken's face for any reaction. He did his best to avoid the red mark Ken's seatbelt had left. Tigg squeezed in and told Ken that he was going to put some cold stickers on his chest that would allow them to monitor his heart. Ken nodded.
"Mr. Hutchinson, do you know whether or not you passed out?" Starsky asked as he pressed on Ken's . It was stable.
"No…" Ken grunted and hissed out a breath. "I've been awake this whole time…Ohh…"
"Did you feel dizzy or faint before the crash?"
"No, I was just..." he grimaced, then continued. "Driving...minding my own business...and she just...ran that red light and plowed into me..."
"Do you remember how fast you were going?"
"I was...turning—ghh...maybe...15 miles an hour?"
"Ok. How long ago was this, do you know?" Starsky asked, pressing in on Ken's ribs and finding them stable.
Ken took a shaky breath. "Can't be more than—ghh…ten minutes since it happened."
"Ok, good. Now, sir, no judgements—please understand that I'm required by my service to ask you this question—have you had anything to drink today?"
Ken shook his head. "No, I haven't had a drink since...last Saturday."
"Ok, good…good," Starsky said, trying not to think about Ken's abs as he palpated his abdomen, which was soft and non-tender. Even under those hard looking abs. Starsky mentally kicked himself again. Professional. Be professional.
The fire guys had finished with Ken's leg, started an IV, and were getting the gurney ready.
Starsky placed his hands on Ken's hips and rocked his pelvis, making sure it was stable. It was...but...Tigg had cut off Ken's pants, and those bright white y-fronts were…really distracting. Starsky allowed himself to stare for a moment. If anybody asked, he could say he was looking for priapism…but he felt guilty…like it was just a bad excuse for him to ogle the patient. He blinked a few times and spread a blanket over Ken, adjusting his gaze back up towards Ken's face.
"Are you regularly taking any prescription medications, recreational drugs, or homeopathics?" Starsky asked as he began checking Ken's other leg and his arms for fractures. He didn't find any.
Ken squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "No...agh…"
"Ok, last question: Do you have any allergies to certain foods or medications?"
Ken shook his head. "No…ohhh…oh god, it hurts…"
Starsky reached into the Narc bag on his hip. "Alright, sir, I'm going to give you something called Morphine, ok? It's going to help with the pain."
"Ohh, God...ok…" Ken groaned.
"Have you ever had morphine before?" Starsky asked as he drew up the medication.
"No...never..." Ken said.
Starsky slowly injected the medication into Ken's IV port. "Tigg, show 4 mg Morphine on board at..." He paused mid-sentence to read his watch. "6:12 PM." Tigg nodded and wrote down the time on their run sheet.
Starsky turned back to Ken. "Alright, Mr. Hutchinson, you might get a little drowsy...and let me know right away if you start to feel dizzy or nauseous, ok?"
Ken nodded. The firefighters, Starsky and Tigg all knelt around him and Ken felt hands rest on his left hip, leg, and shoulder.
"We're gonna load you up on the gurney ok? This might be a little painful, but it'll be over in two shakes," Tigg said as he grabbed their mega mover out from under the gurney.
"Ok, roll him towards you on my count; ready? One, two, three..."
Ken moaned as the hands pulled him to the side. He was already starting to feel woozy from the medication, but he was still able to feel somebody pressing two fingers along the length of his spine.
"Nothing," Starsky said. He and Tigg bunched up the mover and stuffed some of it underneath Ken's right side, then spread the rest of it out. "Ok, set him down on my count; ready? One, two, three..."
They gently let him down onto the mover and everybody took two handles.
"Ok, Ken, this might get bumpy. On three; one, two, three..."
Ken felt himself being lifted up in the air and set down on something. He moaned when he felt a twinge in his leg, but even in that short amount of time, his pain level had seemed to come down considerably. That paramedic was right, this stuff did make you drowsy...
"Ok, Ken, we're going to put these seatbelts on ya..."
Ken heard the voice, but it sounded far away. "Hokay."
The fire guys buckled Ken in and lifted both him and the gurney up into Starsky's ambulance. Starsky took the captain's chair, filling in more of the run sheet. Tigg thanked the fire guys as they left and poked his head into the box through the side door.
"Need anything before we go, boss?"
"Yeah, Tigg, could you get me another quick BP?" Starsky said, grabbing his stethoscope off the oxygen tree on the wall. He put the bell of the stethoscope between his palms, trying to warm it a bit.
"You got it," Tigg said, hopping into the ambulance and shutting the side door behind him.
"This might be a little cold," Starsky said softly. He lifted the blanket a bit and placed the bell of his stethoscope on Ken's chest, listening to his heart and smiling slightly when he heard a normal heartbeat. He slid the stethoscope across Ken's chest and listened to Ken's breaths in four areas...his lungs were clear. Starsky looked at the heart monitor. Normal sinus rhythm. This guy was lucky...his accident could have been a lot worse. (Fortunately for Starsky, he was so focused at the moment, he didn't notice Ken staring at him the way he was.)
"BP is 136/88, HR 100, Respers down to 20, and he's satting at 98%," Tigg said, putting his own stethoscope back around his neck, taking the pulse oximeter off Ken's finger, and getting up to go to the front.
Starsky smiled at the kid. Leave it to Tigg to get a full set of vitals when he'd only been told to get a blood pressure. "Get outta here and drive," he teased, jerking a thumb towards the cab. "Overachiever."
Tigg chuckled and got out of the box, but stopped before shutting the door. "Where are we going?"
Starsky furrowed his brows...with all the commotion (not to mention emotion), he'd honestly almost forgotten to ask. He put a hand on Ken's shoulder. "Mr. Hutchinson? Ken? Is there a particular hospital you'd like to go to?"
"Queen of Mercy..." Ken said dreamily.
Tigg and Starsky exchanged glances. That one was farther away than Hendrickson University Hospital, but Ken was stable for now, and he was entitled to a choice.
"You heard the man," Starsky said with a shrug. (He didn't mind the extra time at all...Queen of Mercy always had the best snacks.)
"You got it." Tigg shrugged too and shut the side door, running off to the cab.
Starsky sat on the bench seat and pulled the blanket up a little higher over Ken's shoulders. At least the blonde looked more relaxed by now...
"Mr. Hutchinson? Are you comfortable? Are you cold at all?"
Ken didn't answer, he just stared at Starsky with a slight smile on his face. Starsky gently shook his shoulder.
"Mr. Hutchinson? Mr. Hutchinson? Can you hear me?"
Ken blinked at Starsky. "Kinda...hard to hear when you're busy lookin' at an angel..."
Starsky turned as red as a firetruck and blinked at his patient. "...Huh?"
Ken's smile grew wider. "Wow, you're so pretty..."
Starsky tugged at his collar. His professional front was fading fast, but he took a breath and cleared his throat. Nope. I am a prehospital professional. I am immune to his charms. He chanted it in his mind like it was some kind of mantra, hoping he could think it enough times to believe it.
"Uhh..." He cleared his throat again. "Thank you..." Starsky said, awkwardly adjusting the corners of his patient's blanket. "Now, uh...are you comfortable?"
Ken still had that dopey smile on his face. "Yeah..." He was staring up at Starsky like he really was an angel or something.
Oh boy. This was going to be a long transport, Starsky could already tell.
"Ok, good...let me know if you need anything..." He started to get up and move towards the captain's chair, but one of Ken's fingers caught his belt loop.
"Where're you goin', angel?"
"I'll be right back...Mr. Hutchinson." Starsky unhooked Ken's finger from his beltloop (Thank god he'd been able to resist the urge to call him sweetheart). "I gotta call the hospital and let them know you're coming."
"Oh, hokay." Ken said. "But don't take too long...I wanna keep talking to you..."
Starsky's face felt way too hot. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow resisted the urge to turn on the air conditioner. He sat down in the captain's chair and picked up the receiver.
"This is 5059 requesting med channel 2," he said in his most calm, professional radio voice.
"Wow...Your voice is even pretty."
"Hold on, sir, I'm not done talking to the hospital yet."
"Ohh, ok...shhh...right. Sorry." Ken smiled and put his hand over his mouth.
Starsky fought off a laugh. He switched to med channel 2 when he was cleared.
"Queen of Mercy, Queen of Mercy, this is 5059, how do you read?"
"5059; Queen of Mercy. Go ahead."
"Good evening, Queen of Mercy; we are currently enroute to your facility with a stable 26 year old male involved in a motor vehicle accident. Patient has a possible open tib-fib fracture to his left leg. No spinal trauma found; vitals within normal ranges. We have placed a 20 gauge in the right forearm with 250ccs normal saline TKO, and given 4 mg Morphine for pain control. Patient has no past medical history and no known drug allergies. ETA is about 10 minutes. Do you have any questions or orders?"
"No questions, 59. See you in 10."
"See you in 10," Starsky repeated. "5059; clear med channel 2," he said, then switched back to med channel 5.
"Hey, angel?" Ken's voice was soft.
Starsky's ears were burning as he got up and sat on the bench seat next to Ken. This was worse (or better, he wasn't sure yet) than that female patient the other day who had insisted on calling him cupcake.
"Yessir? What is it?"
"What wahzyour name again?"
Starsky blinked. "David Starsky."
"Oh, yeah." Ken said, never taking his eyes off of Starsky. "You know? That kinda sounds like...Star of David..." He ran a finger along the chain around Starsky's neck and chuckled at his own brilliance. "You're Jewish, aren't you?"
"Uh, yeah...good guess," Starsky said, uncomfortably shifting in his seat and hiding the necklace in his undershirt. He shouldn't have let Ken touch him like that, but...hell, other patients had done worse. And he...didn't mind this particular patient's attention so much...in fact, he was enjoying it a little more than he probably should.
"Jewish..." Ken said, pausing for a second while he stared at Starsky as if he were the most interesting painting he'd ever seen. Suddenly, a smirk spread itself across his face and he tried to sit up. "Hey—"
The seatbelts did their job at holding him down, but Starksy put a hand on his chest anyway. "Sir, please sit bac—"
"Are...are you snipped down there, because...I'm not..." He looked down at Starsky's crotch.
Starsky's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. He usually considered himself someone who had an answer for everything, but right now, he couldn't think of a single solitary thing to say.
"Wai-Wait," Ken put his finger to his lips, made a shushing noise, and then smiled. "Don't answer that...you can...show me later..."
Starsky rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep from smiling. Jeez, had he given this guy too much Morphine or...just enough?
"I'm not snipped," Ken repeated.
"Yes, sir, I heard you the first time."
"Maybe...I'll show you sometime. After you show me yours."
"Get some rest, ok?" Starsky said, still trying to hold onto what was left of his professional attitude. It was all he could do not to agree to Ken's offer. He stood up and went to sit back in the captain's chair.
Ken struggled to look behind him at Starsky.
"How come you keep moving to where I can't see you, angel?"
"I have a little paperwork to finish, ok?" Starsky said, filling in more of the run sheet.
"Why can't you do it over here?"
Starsky's shoulders dropped. He had a choice to make: would he play, or would he stay? He fought off a smile.
"Ok, sir, I'll sit over there if you promise to be quiet and let me finish my paperwork. Can you do that for me?"
Ken settled back into the gurney.
"I'll do anything you say, angel."
Dammit, why did he have to put it that way? Starsky got up with the run sheet and sat back on the bench seat. Ken made an appreciative noise and situated himself so he could stare at Starsky. Starsky buried himself in the paperwork, but he did notice that every once in a while, Ken would nod approvingly like he was agreeing with little inappropriate thoughts in his head.
Starsky didn't know how he did it, but he managed not to smile about it. In fact, he somehow managed to stay stoic and professional the rest of the way to the hospital, though if you asked him how, he wouldn't have an answer.
-%-
They wheeled Ken into the ER, stopped at the nurses station, and gave a small report. It was incredibly busy that night. By the time they got Ken a room, it was after 7 pm, and Ken was dozing off in the gurney.
They wheeled him into his room and shut the sliding glass door. The nurse, one of Starsky's long-time friends, put on some gloves, came over, and put a hand on Ken's shoulder.
"Hey, sweetie, My name's Nancy. I'm gonna be your nurse until 8:00 tonight. We gotta get you moved over to this bed, ok?"
Ken's eyes fluttered open. "Hokay." He looked for Starsky, smiling when he saw he was still there.
"You're in good hands, Ken, Nancy's a great lady," said Starsky. Nancy smiled and shook her head at him. She mouthed "suck up" at him and he smiled at her.
Starsky, Tigg, and Nancy took the gurney's seatbelts off of Ken and let down the guardrails between the gurney and the bed. Ken went to sit up and scoot over, but Nancy stopped him.
"Not so fast, love, let us do the work, ok?"
"Hokay." Ken nodded at her, then looked at Starsky, the dumb smile returning to his face.
Starsky had to fight really hard not to smile back, but the smile still showed in his eyes. He was a little jealous of Nancy's ability to call Ken by pet names in a professional setting, but he put the thought out of his mind as he, Tigg and Nancy grabbed the handles on the mover.
"Ok, on my count," Starsky said. "One, two, three."
They lifted Ken from the gurney and set him on the hospital bed, pulling up the guardrails.
"Ok, now you can help us," Starsky said, tucking the sides of the mover under Ken's side and gestured towards himself with his hand. "Can you roll on your side towards me so we can get this out from under you?"
Ken did as he was told. Nancy helped hold his leg stable and Starsky instinctively put a hand on Ken's waist to stop him from falling back (He tried not to think about how nice it felt to do that). Tigg gently pulled the mover out from under Ken, and Starsky helped Ken lay back down onto the bed. Tigg tore the pink copy off of their run sheet and handed it to Nancy, who took it and started looking over it. Then, Tigg took the gurney out into the hallway and started cleaning the belts and changing out the sheets.
"They'll be coming in to take you to X-ray soon, ok?" Starsky said softly, resisting the urge to brush Ken's hair out of his face. Instead, his hand was resting on the guardrail. He couldn't explain it, but...this patient felt distantly familiar to him, like he had known him forever...
Ken nodded and rested his hand on top of Starsky's. "Hokay."
Starsky smiled softly, a warm feeling slowly spreading through his chest. He suddenly didn't want to leave...but he was soon brought back to reality by Nancy's question.
"Hey, Dave, what's this first blood pressure?" She asked, then whispered, "I can't read Tigg's handwriting..."
Starsky smiled and shook his head, gently taking his hand out from underneath Ken's and walking over to her. He didn't notice Ken frown when he walked away.
Starsky squinted at the pink paper. "144/98," he said after a second. "You're right. The kid has bad handwriting...but then so do I, so I don't have any room to talk."
Nancy laughed at him. "At least I can decipher yours!"
"Yeah, but we were in school together, so that doesn't count!" He countered.
"Ok, fine," She laughed and walked up to Ken, starting to hook him up to the room monitors. "Davey, can I con you into helping me hook him up to the monitor and getting blood samples? I'll buy you a brownie at change of shift?"
Starsky made a face at her and walked over to help. "You drive a hard bargain, Nancy pants."
She laughed at him. "Helps when I know about your weakness for brownies."
Well, that was part of it, Starsky had to admit, but Nancy wasn't the only one he was going to come back and see after he clocked out, that's for sure.
Starsky gave Nancy the full report on Ken after they'd gotten him hooked up to the machines and taken the blood samples (which Starsky had insisted on getting himself). He walked up as he was about to leave and put a hand on Ken's shoulder.
"Gotta go, buddy. You feel better, ok?"
Ken gave him a sad look. "Go? Where?"
Starsky couldn't help smiling this time. "I get off work soon," he said.
"Oh..." Ken looked even sadder.
That look made Starsky's heart hurt. He leaned in a little closer.
"Hey. Don't look so sad. I'm coming back here after 8, ok? I'll come visit ya."
The smile returned to Ken's face. "You promise?"
"Yeah, I promise." Starsky said.
Ken smiled and closed his eyes. "Ok."
-%-
Starsky waved goodbye to Mildred in dispatch as he walked down the hall towards the door to the parking lot. He was putting on his leather jacket when he heard someone call to him.
"Starsky! I'm glad I caught you before you left..."
He looked back to see his supervisor, Mr. Dobey, walking over to him.
"Heya, zero-one, what's going on?"
"I had a question I wanted to ask you about Mr. Tippther...how is he doing on his own?"
Starsky shrugged and stopped walking, leaning on the doorway by the time clock.
"Arich is great. He's an excellent driver, he's eager to learn, and he's always going above and beyond."
Dobey smiled. "That's good, because he told me he's going to paramedic school next semester and asked to switch his schedule to your shift for then. You think he's ready to be a medic?"
Starsky raised a brow. "Which programme is he going into, because if it's the community college one..."
Dobey shook his head. "No, he's going for a bachelor's degree at Hendrickson."
"Oh, then absolutely," Starsky said looking up into space and shaking his head. "I'll have to warn Dr. Maxwell Reed about him...he's teaching Medical Emergencies and Management this year."
Dobey laughed. "Wow, Reed's a doctor now, huh? I remember years ago when he was still a nurse." He shook his head and followed Starsky out towards the parking lot. "You ok keeping Tippther on your weekend shift for a while, then?"
Starsky nodded. "Absolutely. He's a great kid."
Dobey nodded too. "Good. I'll assign him to you tomorrow, then. See you, Starsky."
"Ok, see ya later." Starsky saluted and walked out to his car, a red Torino with a white stripe. Although he knew it was ridiculous, he was glad that Dobey hadn't come up to talk to him about his inappropriate behaviour toward his last patient. It was ridiculous because Dobey couldn't have heard about it yet, and Starsky had managed to hold it together...but something inside him still felt relieved as he drove off towards Queen of Mercy.
-%-
Starsky got to Queen of Mercy right at 8. He was heading for the emergency department when something in the gift shop window caught his eye. It was a little golden figurine of an angel, no bigger than an inch tall. He stared at it through the window for a moment before walking into the shop.
"We're closing!" the elderly owner warned when she heard the bell on the door. She had her back turned and was turning off the "open" signs.
"Yeah, uh, just wanted to get one thing..." He grabbed the angel and set it on the counter.
She looked down at the angel as she walked back behind the counter, a smile spreading over her face.
"Ohh, you have a special someone to go see, don't you?"
Starsky smiled back. "Yes, ma'am, I do." This lady had no idea how right she was.
"Well," she said as she rang up the figurine. "I sure hope they feel better."
Starsky nodded. "Me too."
-%-
Starsky entered the emergency department and walked over to the nurse's station, catching Nancy just as she was finishing up the report on Ken to the other nurse.
"He's due for discharge in three hours when the morphine wears off, and I already made sure he knows his oxy 'scrip is in with his belongings. His roommate's going to come by when she gets off work and take him home."
She looked up and smiled at Starsky when he came up and leaned on the desk.
"Heya, Davey!"
Starsky smiled. "I believe you owe me a brownie."
She laughed. "Ok, let me just finish my signatures and get my stuff, then I will fulfill my promise, ok?"
Starsky smiled and watched her electronically sign her paperwork, grab her bag and run off toward the lounge. Starsky looked over at the room Ken was in...it was dark.
Starsky nodded to the room. "Guy in 12 asleep? I'm the one who brought him in."
The nightshift nurse, Belinda, nodded. "Yeah. He was exhausted."
Starsky nodded. "He had a big day." He stood up and turned towards the room. "I'm just gonna go check on him."
"Ok," Belinda said. "Just–please, don't wake him up!"
Starsky gave her a look and smirked. "What do you think I am, a student?"
She laughed and shook her head as he walked into the room.
He was careful to be quiet as he walked up to the bedside. Ken was fast asleep...and suddenly Starsky wondered why Ken had called him an angel when really Ken was the one who looked like an angel...His face was beautifully symmetrical—he had a straight nose and a strong jaw—and the dim light from the doorway accentuated it perfectly. His soft blonde hair was swept to the left across his brow and curled into ringlets around his ears and at the back of his neck. Starsky resisted the urge to touch it.
He closed his eyes and took a step back, suddenly getting an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was already in too deep. It was against what seemed like every unwritten rule in EMS (and even a few of the written ones) to get attached to a patient, and Starsky knew he was breaking all of them. But...he felt connected to this man somehow; like he was supposed to be near him. Like he'd known him forever. And this connection he felt was so strong, it was actually scaring him. He took a shaky breath and reached into his pocket, pulling out the angel figurine. He frowned at it. He shouldn't have bought it. And yet...he looked back at Ken sleeping peacefully in his bed and put the figurine on the counter next to Ken's belongings.
"See you around, Ken," Starsky whispered, turning to leave. He wanted to turn back, to wait by Ken's bed, but he suddenly knew he needed to leave. If he stayed, he knew he wouldn't ever leave.
"There you are!" Nancy said, walking up to him and taking his arm as he walked out of Ken's room. "Come on, I owe you a brownie!"
Starsky smiled at her. Maybe a brownie would help with the empty feeling in his stomach.
-%-
AN: Before you get mad at me for ending it here, know that I plan on posting one more chapter for this! I also hope this wasn't too technical! I work as an EMT and I'm currently studying to become a paramedic, so I wanted to write this as a sappy love story with a kind of way for people to see what we EMTs do. Sadly we don't always get really hot patients, but every once in a while, there'll be one to watch out for. If you have no clue what some of these things were, I have written a glossary in hopes that it might help and I apologise for all of my crazy medical field lingo. D:
GLOSSARY OF TERMS:
EMS: Emergency Medical Services
Paramedic: So far, the highest level of licensure for prehospital healthcare technicians
EMT Basic: The second-lowest level of licensure for prehospital healthcare technicians (above EMR; which is a first responder)
COPD: Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disorder. Or, A fancy anagram for "bad lungs"
Narcs: narcotic medications (usually for pain control or sedation)
Vascular access: start an IV
BGL: blood glucose level
C-spine: cervical vertebra in the spine (neck)
Lac: short for laceration or deep cut
Crepitus: the crunchy or grinding feeling of a broken bone
Gurney: the ambulance cot
Priapism: from the greek Priapus; unusual erection denoting spinal cord injury
Homeopathics: holistic/herbal medications and home-remedies
Mega mover: a reinforced tyvec sheet with handles on it designed to move patients
Normal Sinus Rhythm: a heart rhythm generated by the heart's normal pacemaker, the sinoatrial node.
Respers: EMT slang for respiration rate
Pulse oximeter: device that measures how much oxygen is on your red blood cells; value is known as an oxygen saturation
Satting: EMT slang for patient's oxygen saturation
Tib-fib fracture: a fracture to the two bones of the lower leg, the Tibia (the big one in the middle) and the Fibula (the small one on the outside).
18 gauge: a commonly used size of IV needle
250ccs: 250 millilitres of fluid
TKO: "To Keep Open"; also said as KVO or "Keep Vein Open".
ETA: "Estimated Time of Arrival"
Oxy 'scrip: short for Oxycontin Prescription
Special thanks to leoblooms for the inspiring art and some of the dialogue for the ambulance scene. XD