Part 26
When Hutch finally emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, still looking incredibly pale despite the steaming water now trickling down his face and adding a slight flush of colour to his paper white forehead and cheeks, Starsky looked up from the dining table where he'd finally settled himself to wait. A glass jug of water and two glasses now sat in the middle of the table between them.
"How are you feeling now?" He asked, as Hutch, glanced over at him. As he did so the brunette could see the dark circles beneath his friend's eyes even clearer, darker now than they had been in the previous few days, and he sighed.
"How long have you been awake?" Hutch asked.
"Long enough to hear you choking your guts up in there." Starsky replied, indicating towards the direction of the bathroom with the fingers of his left hand, before asking, "Have you taken your pills today?"
Hutch averted his partner's gaze, observing only briefly Starsky's raised eyebrows. He didn't have to say anything to this, his silence said it all.
Finally he responded with a subtle shake of his head.
Starsky sighed.
"Hutch," He muttered with some ill-concealed despair. "You know the doctor said that you need to take your medication. If you don't you know you stand little chance of being able to keep anything down. You haven't been eating properly for weeks, your body isn't used to having to digest proper meals yet… it's important you eat… it's important you take your pills."
"Yes I know Starsk…" Hutch snapped, observing his partner's expression; the well defined creases of his brow furrowed with worry, his light blue eyes oozing with concern, and his general demeanour telling Hutch that it pained him deeply to see his best friend this way, and so he quickly altered his tone. "I know…" He sighed, "but I've been so preoccupied today with taking care of things for you Starsk, that I just forgot."
"Oh Hutch." Starsky murmured as he dropped his head to look at his hands, his voice now so quiet that this was almost intended as a vague whisper to himself, before looking up again. "Well I'm feeling much better now." He forced a smile. "So it's my turn to take care of you. I called Huggy and he's going to bring us some food around later. Where are your pills?" He asked, getting to his feet and pouring Hutch a glass of water from the jug on the table, before offering it to his partner.
Hutch, who had already taken a seat in the space where Starsky had recently vacated – nestling his head into the pillows and allowing himself to sink into the comforting warmth of the blankets exhaustedly – accepted it gratefully.
"Thanks." He sighed his appreciation, as he took the cool glass within his own cold hands. "They're on the top shelf of the bathroom cabinet." He responded, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the bathroom in answer to Starsky's question. "In a brown, glass bottle."
Starsky nodded. Since Hutch had been attending the outpatients department at the local hospital on a regular basis a heavy load had been lifted from all of their shoulders, and there had seemed much less cause to worry now that he was receiving the appropriate medical care – but it was still sometimes easy to forget just how sick he still was, and looking at him now and noticing just how tired he appeared Starsky realised that he wasn't out of the woods yet, and that it wasn't just him who still had a long way to go. Hutch had already suffered enough in silence – they couldn't allow themselves to take their eyes off the ball again.
Upon entering the bathroom – the steam from Hutch's recent shower still lingering in the atmosphere and making the air hot and humid – he made his way over to the small cabinet over the sink where he knew Hutch kept his medicines. The glass doors were still slick with condensation, and as he sorted through a variety of small boxes containing pills and bottles filled with a variety of leaky and congealing liquids of various forms he finally managed to locate two prescription pill bottles which fitted the description Hutch had given him. Locking the cabinet up again behind him he then made his way back into the front room.
"Which one is it?" He asked as Hutch looked up as entered.
Hutch took a long, hard look at the two bottles of medication which Starsky had presented him with, finally indicting the bottle in his left hand.
"How many?" Starsky asked.
"Just the one." Hutch responded, and watched as his friend rolled a single, tiny, white pill out into the palm of his hand before handing it to him. Starsky watched as Hutch then swallowed the tiny tablet down with a single mouthful of water. He then held out the glass for him to take and Starsky placed both the half empty glass and the bottle of pills down on the coffee table in the centre of the room.
"How are you feeling now?" Starsky asked.
"Lousy." Hutch replied, speech slightly slurred and eyes already half closed as the true extent of his exhaustion became clear. "But better now that I don't have anything else left to bring back up again."
"The medicine will help to make you feel better soon." Starsky soothed, settling down in the armchair beside his friend.
"I'm sorry Starsk…" Hutch murmured quietly. "I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you… so far I haven't been much good at that have I?"
"Hey don't be so silly, you blonde Blintz." Starsky assured him. "We're going to get through this together." He felt compelled to lower the volume of his voice slightly however as he watched Hutch's eyes droop fully closed, and he asked. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? I'll wake you when Huggy gets here."
Although upon hearing no response and observing the gentle rise and fall of his best friend's ribcage he realised that Hutch had already fallen asleep, and smiled as he observed the peaceful, relaxed expression which descended upon his long suffering best friend's face.