Part 14

The following morning Hutch awoke slowly – the IV line had been carefully removed the evening before, but the back of his hand still throbbed slightly where the small needle had made his skin bleed, and it took him a moment to adjust to his unfamiliar surroundings and to realise where he was.

Blinking the lingering sleep from his eyes he gently eased himself up in the bed and looked over at the clock on the opposite wall – 7:30 in the morning.

Whilst the hospital corridors were still quiet, and the only light to penetrate the small room – with its bleached floors and whitewashed walls – at this time in the morning was the suns bright rays as it rose to the South and cast a beautiful golden glow over the city, Hutch could hear the sound of the traffic already beginning to build up in the busy street below. The thought occurred to him that if this day were just like any other day he and Starsky would already be joining the early morning commuters on their way into work.

But instead they were both here, stuck within these four walls, being poked and prodded and ordered around by people who all thought they knew what was best for them without really knowing anything about the two men or what they had both been through. He realised that it would probably be a long time yet before Starsky would be able to return to work.

Hutch's mouth and throat felt as dry as sand paper. As he swallowed his vocal chords felt limp and stringy and as though they had somehow become glued to the inside of his neck by thick mucus, and his tongue had become a solid mound of shrivelled flesh which had become firmly suckered to the roof of his mouth. He'd been told the evening before that the drugs they'd given him to help him sleep could cause a dry mouth, amongst other things, but he hadn't expected the effect to be quite so dramatic. He took a couple of mouthfuls of water from the glass on his bedside cabinet to wet his mucus membranes and unglue his dry and sticky mouth and eased himself back down into the bed. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he became aware of was of being shaken gently awake by a pretty young nurse with a tray of breakfast at about 9:00.

At first Hutch only sipped at his juice and picked at a few items on the breakfast tray – he tore at the crust of a slice of toast and reluctantly swallowed down a couple of mouthfuls of thin porridge oats, but eventually managed to muster up enough of an appetite to request a plate of scrambled eggs and a single slice of dry wholemeal toast instead – which was promptly delivered, and then slowly devoured, until there were only a few crumbs of egg white and a dry crust of bread left.

The nurse smiled down at him as she came in to clear the breakfast tray once he'd finished, and noticed the nearly empty plate, cleared of its meagre contents, with the exception of a few small crumbs.

She was a very pretty young woman Hutch observed, with dark brown eyes and jet-black hair, which she wore in a loose ponytail as wisps of hair floated around her smiling face. Her uniform was a snug fit against her slender body, and Hutch noted that in another time and perhaps also another place he may have found her vaguely attractive. But his heart just wasn't in the pursuit of its romantic ends anymore it seemed, and there was only one person Hutch wanted by his side, and that was Starsky.

"Well done Detective." She beamed. "Doctor Richards will be pleased."

He managed a slightly shaky gesture in response, as she replaced the tray with a fresh jug of water on his bedside table – before pouring him a glass and handing it to him, along with a small plastic goblet of pills, which she procured from a trolley by the door.

"What's this?" He frowned, as he took the cocktail of tablets from her.

"We're treating you for dehydration and extreme physical fatigue." She explained, looking at him, and he reluctantly swallowed the multi-coloured capsules down with a mouthful of water. She then made her way around to the end of the bed and made a note of something on his chart.

"You've been prescribed a combination of vitamins and iron in order to boost your immune system." She elaborated. "Your blood tests revealed that you were slightly on the anaemic side, and we're also treating you with a low dose anti-biotic in order to address any infection."

Hutch grimaced at the chalky residue the medication left upon the surface of his tongue, before swilling the powdery sediment from his mouth with another mouthful of cool water. He handed the small plastic cup back to the nurse as she turned to leave, precariously balancing the breakfast tray and the empty plate on top of the trolley, which was also evidently used to distribute various quantities of medication to patient's around the ward.

"So," he asked her, as she screwed the tiny piece of plastic up in her fist, before throwing it in the nearby trash can as she made her way to the door. She turned back to look at him as he spoke. "Do you think I might be allowed to go home today?" He asked hopefully.

"That will be up to Doctor Richards." She explained. "I'm afraid I'm not qualified to say. But it doesn't look as if there's anything too seriously wrong with you." She offered him a reassuring smile. "The doctor wanted to keep you in overnight for observation, but you've eaten a good breakfast, so I expect they'll discharge you sometime later on today."

Hutch didn't respond.

"Can I get you anything before I go?" She asked him kindly, but he looked at her and shook his head.

"Alright." She nodded in understanding. There was something about the way the young Detective held himself which made him appear lost and curiously afraid, and she observed the sadness within his brilliant blue eyes "Just ring if you change your mind."

Hutch nodded silently as she withdrew from the room.