Sorry once again for the delay in posting. I tried earlier, but the website wasn't working for me for some reason. Anyway, here's chapter 4!

Hailstorm Chapter 4

"I'm sorry, Starsky but you're needed out there," Dobey explained.

"But Cap'-"

"No buts! Chandler needs you back at the bar. He needs a contact now more than ever. Gonzalez might be suspicious since Chandler dropped out of the buy. If Gregory becomes a regular buyer then Chandler won't be able to avoid him forever."

"Can't someone else do it?"

"You know why we can't do that. Your cover is already established. We need you."

"Hutch needs me too!" Starsky was torn. Dobey was right. Chandler needed him, but Starsky didn't want to go back out into the field this soon. Once he did, he wouldn't be able to visit Hutch for days, maybe even weeks.

"He's in the hospital with professionals seeing to him. He'll be fine." Dobey understood Starsky's hesitation to leave Hutch, but they had a job to do. They couldn't afford to lose months of progress on this case just because Hutch got hurt.

"Can't we wait just a couple days? Just until he's through the worst of it?" Starsky asked, sitting down in one of the chairs opposite Dobey's desk.

"Starsky, enough! It has to be now. If we wait, it'll look suspicious. Not to mention Chandler's safety. Without a contact he's entirely on his own. We just can't have that!"

"Okay." Starsky slumped down in his seat and resigned himself to reality. He would have to get back to work. He would have to leave Hutch.

"Good."

"Sorry, Cap'. I'm just worried about him, ya know?" Dobey looked at the detective sitting across from him. He could tell how hard this was for Starsky.

"Look, I understand you not wanting to leave him right now. I wouldn't be eager to either if he were my partner, but the sooner you get back out there the sooner we can wrap this one up. We've almost got enough for several solid convictions. The only reason the whole operation is even still feasible is because of what Hutch did."

"I know. I just hate for him to be by himself while I'm gone. He thinks too much when he's alone." Starsky's imagination ran wild. What if he has more nightmares? Refuses pain killers? Takes a turn for the worse and I'm not there? Dobey hated to see him look so worried.

"Tell you what. I'll look in on him myself. I could even bring Rosie if you think he'd be up for it."

"I think he would. When do you want me to leave?" Starsky felt a little better. He still hated to go, but at least Hutch wouldn't be completely alone. He'll like seeing Rosie. Maybe she'll bring him one of her handmade cards. He smiled at the thought. He still had the one she had made for him when he'd been shot in the restaurant a couple of years ago.

"You can stop by the hospital on your way out of town and bring Hutchinson up to speed. Don't stay too long, though. We need you at the bar as soon as possible," Dobey instructed sternly. "Now get out of here!"

Starsky hurried to Hutch's room. He knocked and waited a couple seconds before entering. His partner was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Starsky glanced at the clock. 10:30 AM.

"Hey there, Hutch. What's going on? Naptime already?" He pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. Hutch turned his head to face him. The movement hurt, but he tried not to wince. He didn't want Starsky to worry.

"I never got up actually. Didn't get much sleep last night," Hutch explained. Starsky had no trouble believing him. He looked exhausted.

"More nightmares?"

"Nope, no sleep either. My side is starting to scab up and- never mind." Hutch looked away.

"And what?" Starsky probed.

"I don't want to complain," Hutch mumbled.

"Hutch, you are in the hospital because you got in a serious accident. I think you are entitled to complain a bit! What's the problem?"

"Whole thing is sore and uncomfortable." Hutch lifted his shirt a bit and surveyed the damage to his side. The skin that wasn't covered by bandages was red and angry. Bloody scabs were forming and pulling at the tender skin around them. Starsky's side hurt just looking at it.

"Looks painful. No wonder you couldn't sleep." How can I leave you when you're hurt like this?

"The scabs pull on each other and it makes them reopen sometimes. Feels like I'm always bleeding from somewhere," Hutch grumbled as he pulled his shirt back down. Starsky noticed it was stained red all along the side.

"Can't they do anything about that? Make ya more comfortable so you can rest?" Hutch shook his head.

"I already asked. I can basically just wait. It's got to fully scab over in order to heal."

"So they're not doing anything?" Starsky asked, obviously perturbed by this information.

"They've been keeping the places that bleed clean. Other than that, there's nothing they can do." Starsky stood and paced across the floor.

"I just might have to have a talk with these people! Suck it and up and deal with it?! What kind of medical assistance is that? What a joke! There has to be something!" He emphasized his point by pounding his fist on Hutch's tray, spilling the paper cup of ice water that had been sitting on it. The water dripped off the tray and onto Hutch's thigh.

"That's cold, Starsk! Watch it!" Hutch moved his leg to the side while Starsky fetched a towel from the bathroom. He sighed as he began trying to blot the liquid up from the blankets.

"Sorry, Hutch. I'm just frustrated. First, I have the whole thing with Dobey this morning and then I get here and find out you're hurtin' like this and there's nothing we can do," Starsky mumbled without thinking. He froze as realized what he'd said. He hoped Hutch hadn't heard him. No such luck. Even concussed and on drugs, Hutch was still sharp enough to pick up on Starsky's remark.

"Wait. What happened with Dobey this morning?" Hutch struggled to sit up while avoiding the wet spot. Starsky helped him get settled before answering. He knew he couldn't delay it any longer. He had to give Hutch the update. He had to explain to him why he had to go. Then, Starsky would have to leave. He would have to walk out the door and leave Hutch behind in the hospital room. Alone. Starsky wished more than anything he could stay. Distract Hutch from the pain by any means necessary.

"He said I have to go back to the bar. Continue being Chandler's contact."

"So? Why do you say that like it's a death sentence? I thought you kinda liked bartending?"

"It's not the job I hate. I just don't wanna be gone right now. Means I can't come visit ya." Starsky sat down and frowned. He didn't want to abandon Hutch at a time like this. How can I go back to work like nothing happened when I know he's lying here miserable?

"Starsky, I'll be fine. You've gotta go. I'll be all right on my own for a few days."

"I have to leave in a few minutes. I can't come back until we make the arrests. I could be gone for a while." Starsky didn't want Hutch to be fine with this. He wanted him to share his frustration, to be as upset as he was.

"I get it. Chandler needs your help. Without it, he could be killed. That would make my skid across the pavement rather pointless, now wouldn't it?" Hutch waited for a response. He could read the conflicting expressions on Starsky's face. He wouldn't make this any more difficult for his partner than it had to be.

"Why you always gotta be so annoyingly logical?! Can't you just be selfishly emotional for once?" Starsky whined.

"Would that change anything? You'd still have to do it. I'll be fine. I need to call my mom anyway. I'll probably have to convince her not to fly down here. That'll keep me busy for at least an hour," he joked. He wanted Starsky to be able to focus on the mission.

"Promise me you won't just sit here and dwell on the negative the whole time."

"I promise. I'll try to distract myself in every way possible. I might even brave daytime television as a last resort," he joked. Starsky managed a grin.

"Good. See ya soon, okay? I'm sorry about this. I really don't wanna-"

"Starsky, go," Hutch commanded gently. Starsky was just stalling at this point.

"See ya later, blintz."

All the way to the bar, all Starsky could think about was Hutch. He felt guilty for not being there to support and help his friend. He tried to clear his mind as he parked his undercover car in the lot behind the building. The same undercover car Hutch had almost died in. Starsky could still make out the outlines of Hutch's blood stains on the upholstery, despite someone at the department's best efforts to get them out. He entered through the backdoor Hutch had dragged himself to and knocked on that stormy evening. The knock Starsky hadn't answered right away. He couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if he had. I could have gotten him to the hospital sooner.

Starsky sighed and tied on an apron. He had to wash some dishes from the last shift that had been abandoned. He heard the door open and looked up to see Kevin enter. He was shocked to see the kid. Why would he still want to work here after what happened?

"Kevin! What are you doing here?"

"Working. I heard you would be too," Kevin said. Starsky was confused.

"Who told you that?"

"Travis, I mean Chandler. He showed up at my house the day after you left and explained everything to me. He said you guys needed more time and my help to maintain your covers. He also said you'd be coming back and to forget everything I saw that night."

"Good advice. Thanks for everything you did. You made a good partner." Leave it to Chandler to find a way to make it work.

"Thanks. I don't think police work is for me though. I plan to keep my head down and wash dishes tonight!"

"Sounds like a good idea. I promise I won't make you spill any drinks on anyone this time." Kevin laughed.

"Good!"

"Now what's been going on since I left?" Starsky asked as he handed Kevin a wet plate to dry as the younger man brought him up to speed.

"Chandler told me to tell the boss that you got sick from some bad meat and had to go get checked out and rest for a couple days. He also said he told a guy named Gonzalez that he got sick from the same thing. I don't know who Gonzalez is or what that means, but he said to tell you. He also said to tell you it worked."

"You don't wanna know Gonzalez, trust me. Now, we have a couple hours until we open. Let's get in the habit of not talking about anything related to what happened here the other night. As far as you know, I'm just a bartender, Chandler's name is Travis and you don't know him as anyone other than the guy you spilled a drink on."

Starsky tried to lose himself in the work of serving customers and listening to conversations between men he knew had a connection to Gonzalez. He hoped there would be some interesting information, but it was all the same boring small talk. That left him time to think about how lonely Hutch might be. How depressed he probably was as he laid in his hospital bed with nothing to focus on but the pain. How stressed he probably still was about not remembering things. Why did he have to get hurt? Why couldn't it have been me?

After another practically sleepless night, Hutch was looking forward to breakfast. He wasn't particularly hungry, but breakfast was something to think about that wasn't associated with anything related to his injuries. The doctor had come in earlier and examined him. Hutch had laid there as the nurse listed everything that was wrong with him. It was an incredibly long list. Will I ever get to go home? he'd thought.

Now, he occupied his mind with thoughts of the meal. He hoped it included eggs. He'd found that hospital eggs were usually tolerable. Any bread product, however, was always stiff as a board and as dry as a bone. Fruit was usually canned short of his standards, and he was fairly certain no one in the hospital kitchen had ever even attempted to learn how to cook a vegetable.

"Good morning, hon! Are we hungry this morning?" An older nurse asked as she entered the room. She was carrying a breakfast tray. Hutch was pleased to see it contained eggs.

"Yes, thank you." He sat up straighter and picked up his fork as the nurse left. It still felt odd to eat left-handed, but he was getting better. He tried his eggs. A bit overcooked, but edible. He reached for the milk, but realized it wasn't open. Starsky can open it when he-Wait. He's not coming today. He struggled with the carton for a minute before admitting defeat. His right arm hurt too much to pull on anything, even a milk carton. He sighed in frustration and pressed the call button. The same nurse entered a few seconds later.

"What can I do for you, sweetheart?" she asked cheerily.

"Uh, well. I um...can't open my milk." What am I? Back in grade school? Asking for help with such basic tasks wasn't something he was used to.

"There you go, sugar. Enjoy! Can I get you anything else?" He shook his head.

"No thanks." He finished the eggs and milk and pushed the tray away. Now what? He straightened the blankets as best he could, sat up straighter, and tried to look out the window. However, the bed wasn't at the right angle to allow him to see anything but the sky. He stared at his IV. It was still full of morphine. I hate this. Gotta get off this junk. It's gonna hurt something awful when I do.

Every position he sat it seemed uncomfortable. Something was always digging into his back, pulling at his side, or put his broken arm or foot at an odd angle. Getting comfortable seemed to be a losing battle. He sighed. Even that hurt. I want to go home, curl up on the couch, sleep for three days, and forget this ever happened. Don't suppose that's too realistic, unfortunately. The bandage on his head felt too tight. Let's see if I'm still dumb today. H-U-T-C... yep. I can't. Great. Just great! The more time passed, the more agitated he became. With nothing to do and breakfast over, he was at a loss for what to think about. The only thing that came to mind was how much his current situation stunk. This is terrible! His eyes scanned the room, looking for anything remotely interesting. He spotted Sam on the windowsill. Sorry, Starsk. I broke my promise already. So much for not dwelling on the negative…

Meanwhile, Starsky wandered the aisles at the gas station he had called for an ambulance from the night of the accident. He didn't have to be at the bar until ten. He looked over all the snack options before settling on a bag of chips, a donut, and a bottle of Coke. Wonder if Hutch ate anything this morning? Hope he drank his milk. Starskypaid for his snack, got back in the car, and drove back to his hotel. I miss my Torino, he thought glumly.

This assignment hadn't been so bad before. Bartending wasn't usually too unpleasant, and he had a lot of downtime. The room Hutch had used when he had been on duty for Gonzalez adjoined to Starsky's, so they could share information when they needed to. They had also used it when they didn't need to. Starsky recalled at least four times he had opened it to tell Hutch something completely unrelated to the case. And each time, he recalled being reprimanded by his partner. Especially when he didn't knock. He wished Hutch were still on the other side of that door.

He had been staying here for the better part of three months. It wasn't the most interesting undercover work Starsky had ever done, but he knew it was important. He missed his social life, his car, and his own place. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone on an actual date. There wasn't much to do around here but heading back to the city wasn't an option. I ought to be grateful I got to spend a couple days at home before I had to come back out here yesterday. Even if it was because of Hutch. His snack soon disappeared, and he got ready to go to the bar to prepare for the lunch crowd. I'm so ready for this to be over. Chandler better hurry and get all his evidence. The man's gonna be a father in a few months. He's gotta be motivated to wrap this up ASAP, right?

Back at the hospital, Hutch busied himself by counting the ceiling tiles until he heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he called, more than ready for a change in activity. He sat up as Captain Dobey entered.

"Hello, Hutchinson." Dobey looked his detective up and down. Starsky had been right to be concerned. Hutch looked far from his usual self.

"Good morning, Captain." Even Hutch's voice sounded weaker.

"I heard you might want visitors today. Rosie's waiting in the hall. I told her you may not be up to seeing her today, however," Dobey explained, not wanting Hutch to feel pressured. Hutch smiled and pulled the blankets up further to conceal more of his injuries.

"It's okay. She can come in if she wants." Dobey went back out into the hall for a second before returning with her.

"Hi!" the little girl almost shouted as she bounded into the room.

"Inside voice, young lady," her father instructed.

"Hey, Rosie! How's my favorite girl?" Hutch tried his best to put on a cheerful face.

"Good! I made you this!" She came over to the bed and thrust a sticker-covered envelope in his direction. He accepted it graciously.

"What's this? Did you decorate it yourself?" Rosie nodded proudly.

"Open it!" She ordered in a tone reminiscent of the one her father used quite often. He held the envelope in his casted hand and pulled out the contents with the other.

"Oh wow! What a pretty card! Is that me? He pointed to a yellow haired-stick figure standing by what looked like a motorcycle. The sun was shining and there were flowers all around. There was even a dog in the corner. Quite a switch from how it actually happened! Talk about the storybook version!

"Yep! Daddy said that's how come you have to be here. 'Cause there was an accident."

"This is great! Why don't you go put it over on the windowsill for me? That way I can always see it!" Rosie beamed at the compliment. She had spent an hour on the artwork and was overjoyed to get to deliver it in person.

"She and Edith have been asking about you several times a day," Dobey told him. "Edith said to tell you hello and that she'll be sending some cookies your way soon."

"Tell her thank you and hello from me too." Rosie came back over to Hutch and stared at the bandage on his head. It made him uncomfortable that she had to see him this way, but he was grateful for her presence.

"I will. Several guys down at the station asked about you too," Dobey replied.

"Did you hit your head?" Rosie inquired.

"Yes. I banged it pretty good too."

"Did it hurt?"

"Sure did."

"Does it now?"

"Sure does."

"Did you break your arm?" Hutch nodded. "Cal broke his arm once. Only he didn't do it on a motorcycle. He was climbing a tree. He's all better now."

"That's good."

"What is all that?" She pointed to the IV cart.

"That's how I get medicine. It goes right into my arm over here, see?"

"When I take medicine, I just have to drink it! It's yucky!" Rosie made a disgusted face. Hutch couldn't help but chuckle. He tried to ignore the stinging sensation it caused in his side.

"Well lucky for me, I don't have to taste it at all this way." Lucky. Ha! Hutch didn't feel very lucky. This whole situation was lousy. On the bright side, Rosie was a welcome distraction. He was glad the Captain had thought to bring her.

"The only time I was ever in a hospital was when I was a baby," she informed him.

"Really? I was in a hospital as a baby too," Hutch told her. Dobey enjoyed observing the exchange between his daughter and his detective.

"I was in this one! Were you in this one too?"

"No, I wasn't born here in California."

"Where were you born then?"

"Minnesota."

"I've seen Minnesota on the map at school. It's next to Wisconsin!"

"That's right! Say, aren't you supposed to be in school today?"

"No, silly! It's Saturday!"

"Oh, I see." Hutch had no idea what day it was anymore. All of them seemed to run together in here. He couldn't even remember what day of the week it was when everything had happened.

"Saturday is my favorite day. What's your favorite day?"

"Rosie, honey, I think that's enough questions. You need to let him rest," Dobey broke in.

"A good detective always asks a lot of questions, Captain!" Hutch responded. Dobey shot him a look over the little girl's head.

"We better go now. Tell Ken goodbye."

"Bye!" Rosie tried to hug him, but she wasn't sure how with the cast and the tubes in the way. She finally settled on shaking his left hand and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for coming to see me, Rosie!"

"I'll keep you posted on the case. I'm glad to see you're doing somewhat better," Dobey said.

"Thanks, Captain!" Hutch called as they left the room. That was nice. The girl sure is talkative! She and Starsky could have a competition! He looked over at Sam and Rosie's card next to it. At least I have two positive things to focus on. Maybe my promise to Starsky wasn't a complete lie.

Starsky swept up the remains of a shattered beer bottle and deposited them into the trash. The evening had been a busy one and he was exhausted. Even the lumpy hotel bed seemed inviting. He groaned as he put the last clean glass back on the shelf and locked up. It was well after closing time.

When he got to his hotel room, he stripped off his clothes and immediately headed for the shower. As tired as he was, he couldn't stand smelling like beer all night. He dried off and collapsed into bed. Sleep! Yes! Wonderful sleep! He closed his eyes and tried to drift off but couldn't. His brain was too preoccupied. Is he okay? I hope he hasn't snapped at anyone. What if the morphine bothers him too much? Who will he talk to if I'm not there? I hope he's not bored. Am I putting too much importance on myself? I mean, he is a grown adult. He can certainly entertain himself for a few days. He doesn't really need me. I'd sure go stir crazy if I were him...What if he takes a turn for the worse? What if he has more nightmares? What if he's mad I didn't stay? Will I get put on desk duty until he recovers? What if he doesn't? What if I have to get a new- No! Stop! Don't even think that! He'll be all right. He'll get better and it will be just like it was before. Lots of people get concussions and break bones. They recover just fine! Why should Hutch be special? He'll be okay on his own, he said so himself. Besides, it's probably just for a few days. We've gotta be close. Besides, what could happen in a few days?