Part 21

When they arrived back at Venice Place Captain Dobey assisted Starsky up the stairs to Hutch's apartment. Everything appeared to be in order, but as they entered the sour odour of stale vomit immediately assaulted their nostrils – clearly Hutch had failed to keep the nausea at bay again, and Starsky sighed. He looked to Dobey who gave him a knowing smile – the corners of the man's dark lips turned upwards in a sorry grimace – but the Captain didn't say anything and Starsky was grateful for that. As he closed the door behind them Starsky heard the shower hiss into life. Hutch had been taking a lot of showers lately, even when he didn't need them – and the curly haired brunette suspected that there was something about the feeling of the hot water cascading over his friend's worn body which soothed him, and calmed his obvious anxieties. He'd even awoken in the middle of the night on a couple of occasions to the sound of the water running in the bathroom – and it was on nights like this that Starsky had grown to realise that the nightmares must have been particularly bad for his friend.

"How about some lunch Cap'n?" He asked, crossing to the small kitchen as he waited for Hutch to finish in the shower, and opening the cupboards. The shelves were pretty sparse but he did find half a packet of pasta, a quarter packet of rice, and a can of ham, as well as knowing there to be some bread and a block cheese in the fridge. But Captain Dobey shook his head.

Starsky's own stomach was protesting its hunger however, and as dry pasta didn't quite appeal to his supplicating taste-buds he set about trying to open the can of ham, deciding to make himself a sandwich. The can of salted meat may have even come with the apartment he deduced, judging by how long it appeared to have been shoved to the back of Hutch's cupboard. The Captain had always been particularly partial to his food in the past, but in the weeks following Starsky's shooting he too appeared to have lost his appetite, and Starsky wondered when he too had last eaten. He was however lucky to have a loving family to look out for him and to make sure that he would be alright – Starsky and Hutch only had each other.

But that didn't matter – their friendship was worth the value of a thousand men looking out for them.

Even so Starsky decided to make a couple of extra sandwiches just to be on the safe side, in case the Captain changed his mind once the food was placed in front of him – and he wanted to try and encourage Hutch to eat something, if he felt up to it.

He didn't even get that far however, as he was buttering the bread he heard the latch on the bathroom door click and Hutch emerged. Starsky abandoned the lunch as he made his way back into the small sitting room to greet his friend. Hutch looked a little shaky on his feet, but managed to muster a small smile.

"Hey Cap," He welcomed the Captain as Dobey turned to him and nodded in greeting, he was shocked by Hutch's haggard appearance. He hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks, and in that short time he appeared to have lost even more weight. His complexion was a deathly shade of white, and his hands appeared to be trembling. He too noticed that he appeared to be a little wobbly on his feet, but he didn't say anything.

"Hey Hutch," He smiled, before broaching the inevitable question, "how are you feeling?"

"Better. Thanks." The blonde smiled, his voice hoarse. He was evidently still feeling queasy the Captain deduced by the uncomfortable expression upon his face, and didn't want to risk more than the two word response. Hutch made a beeline for Starsky, who stood on the threshold of the kitchen and as he approached his best friend's side the look of anxiety upon his face was evident, but he kept his apprehension locked behind tightly closed doors for the most part. As he neared the small kitchen unit the smell of the greasy meat and butter smacked his hypersensitive senses however and he subtly but quickly turned away as he blanched dangerously and made his way over to the small couch to take a seat opposite the Captain. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath to try and compose himself and gain control of the gag reflex which had been stimulated upon the sight and the smell of the food. He hoped that Starsky hadn't noticed.

"How did you get on at the hospital?" He asked as he sat down, and Starsky followed him into the small sitting room, himself taking a seat beside the Captain.

Starsky smiled. "Doctor Maybrouk said that I'm doing well enough now for them to lower the dosage of some of the medication I am currently taking." He explained, and his heart lifted as he watched his best friend's reaction to this piece of news. Hutch's entire face lit up with this revelation, there was a spark of hope ignited within his dull eyes, and a note of genuine joy crept into the forced smile which was painted upon his pale face. "It's only a couple less pills a day for the moment." Starsky continued. "But it's a start!"

"That's great news Starsk!" Hutch grinned. His spirits sored despite the heaviness of his heart. He wanted to convey the full measure of his happiness and relief within his expression, but as much as he tried he couldn't quite get his smile to reach his cheekbones.

"Have you eaten anything?" Starsky asked him, already knowing the answer but asking the question anyway, but Hutch shook his head – affirming what his partner already knew.

"I was just about to make some lunch." Starsky explained. "Want anything?"

"Oh Starsk, I can do that for you." Hutch offered, his tone still thick and heavy with the guilt of the past few weeks. "I'm still the one supposed to be taking care of you remember?"

Everything about his friend screamed of a man who was on the absolute verge of emotional and physical collapse. He was exhausted, worn out from taking care of Starsky and keeping his own illness concealed for so long. Even now Starsky suspected that he was underplaying his symptoms.

"Hutch, why don't you sit for a bit?" Starsky asked him imploringly. "You look exhausted! I'm sure I won't break if I just rustle us up a spot of lunch."

Captain Dobey looked from one to the other of the two men. Hutch's stomach had stopped doing summersaults but he still looked a little queasy and the Captain wondered why it was that he still continued to push himself to the absolute brink when Starsky was now on the road to recovery.

The crisis was over, the imminent danger the two of them had found themselves in had long since passed. Gunther was behind bars, and the vast criminal empire which had taken the man years to build up had taken barley a few weeks to dismantle. With the crime lord now in custardy the rats it seemed had abandoned the sinking ship – and although there was no doubt in Dobey's mind that some small pockets of Gunther's empire inevitably still remained out there somewhere he was convinced that they no longer presented a threat to the safety of his two men. Hutch should have been breathing a sigh of relief that he was finally able to relax for the first time in weeks, Starsky was going to be alright, and they were both safe – but instead he still seemed intent of proving that he could take care of Starsky all by himself and single-handedly manage his partner's care.

Hutch shook his head.

"I think I can fix us some lunch Starsk." A slight smile curled the corners of his lips and he clapped his partner reassuringly on the shoulder as he got unsteadily to his feet.

He still felt weak after his recent vomiting spell however, and moved a little too quickly in the act of getting up from his seat for his brain to keep up with the rest of his exhausted body.

Neither Starsky nor Captain Dobey noticed as Hutch took two steps towards the kitchen and swayed – both having turned their gaze away from the blonde only a split second beforehand – nor how he had to grab on to the kitchen counter quickly in order to steady himself, or when his eyes began to roll into the back of his head and his eyelids close… but they heard the thud as his body hit the ground.