Just a quick note: This chapter contains a scene that might be unpleasant for those with a weak stomach. It's not a long section, but you may not want to read it while eating. Anyway, I hope you all are continuing to enjoy this story.

Hailstorm Chapter 6

Friday. Day seven of staring at nothing, Hutch thought glumly. Starsky had left nearly a week ago. As much as he usually complained about Starsky babying him and never leaving him alone when he was sick or injured, he had to admit that he missed his partner. It seemed too quiet without him. I wonder what he'd say if he were here. Probably scold me for skipping meals, bug the nurses every five minutes, and read me some book of his containing questionable information. He'd probably also insist I tell the nurse that my throat hurts. It had been three days since his throat had started feeling sore. Maybe I'm coming down with something. Couldn't last three days otherwise, could it? Nurse Jenny interrupted his thoughts with a knock on his door.

"Good morning, Ken. How are you?" she greeted him.

"Okay."

"Just okay?" Jenny frowned, looking at his chart.

"Is anyone in a hospital ever good?" he mumbled under his breath.

"I suppose that's fair," she smiled at his evaluation. "I thought you might at least be sleeping better. You haven't made a peep the last two nights."

"Yeah, I've decided I don't care all that much about my trauma anymore, so I'm going to ignore it," he declared sarcastically.

"That's a unique approach," she replied, amused by her patient. "I can get you a therapist if you want though."

"Why would I want that? I'm suffering efficiently enough on my own!" he snapped. Jenny was taken aback.

"I was just trying to- I'll come back later." She turned to go. Hutch ran his left hand over his face and sighed deeply.

"Wait! Sorry. I was…I shouldn't have said that. It was rude. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I've heard a lot worse from patients."

"That's a shame. As far as I'm concerned, you're the best nurse in Bay City. A lot of the others I've had seem a bit…uh, hostile." Hutch smiled awkwardly.

"You'd be hostile too if you'd been cussed out over Jell-O," Jenny replied, only half-joking.

"Really? And here I thought my job was bad."

"Well, nursing doesn't get me into motorcycle accidents, so I think we're even. How's your side doing?"

"I don't think it's currently bleeding."

"How much does it hurt?"

"No more than usual," he replied. He'd gotten used to the pain and soreness. He was only given morphine before bed now to make sleeping easier and occasionally during the day if things became too unbearable. He couldn't wait until he was off it completely, but the idea of feeling the pain in full was distressing. A portion of it was bad enough.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, just close the blinds please."

"Going back to bed already?" she asked and did as he requested.

"The light just bothers me. I've got a headache that's about to be promoted to migraine."

"Do you want me to ask the doctor if I can give you something for it?"

"Don't bother. I just want to lie down for a bit. I think it'll go away."

"Okay. Breakfast should be in about fifteen minutes," she informed him as she helped him situate himself.

"Tell them I don't want anything, will you?"

"Breakfast is usually the only meal I can get you to eat and now you're skipping it too?"

"I can't even think about food with my head like it is. I promise I'll eat something later."

"I'll hold you to that. You need your strength," she told him as she left the room.

Hutch closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but his head felt like it was going to explode. He knew it was normal due to his head injury, but that didn't help ease the pounding in his skull. Stupid concussion! A normal headache was just too much to hope for, huh? Why's it so warm in here? He attempted to kick off one of his blankets with his good leg. He groaned as it caught on the railing of the bed just out of reach. His broken foot was still covered, but he elected to put up with it rather than put forth the energy required to remedy the situation. Why can't one little thing just go right for once? Just once! Hope Starsky's having a better go of it. Wonder if Huggy's right about the buy being soon?

Eventually, he managed to fall asleep as exhaustion finally won out. He awoke around lunchtime to the older nurse, Ruth, bringing in his meal. His migraine still hadn't gone away.

"How you doing, darling?" she asked, placing a covered plate on his tray.

"Eh, not great," he responded as he tried to sit up.

"Sorry to hear that, hon. Get some of this food in you and that will help."

"Somehow I doubt that," he mumbled. I've got a feeling it'll do just the opposite of helping me.

"Pardon me, sweetheart, but what was that?"

"Uh…never mind. What's on today's menu?"

"Spaghetti and garlic bread with banana pudding for dessert. Be sure you clean your plate, okay honey?"

"Yeah, okay. Thanks." Can she ever speak to me without a term of endearment? He wondered as he removed the lid from his food. At least it looks identifiable as spaghetti.

"Alright, darling, I'll be back when you're finished," she told him as she left the room.

Darling? Don't you know I have a name? It's not like it isn't printed on the chart you're required to read every single day or anything. He rolled his eyes an took a small bite of the noodles. They were bland, but tasteless was better than some of the flavors he had experienced since being admitted. He forced himself to eat all of them, even though he wasn't hungry. After all, he'd promised Jenny he'd eat and there was no guarantee dinner would be remotely edible. The garlic bread was bad, but he ate that too. He was determined to finish at least one meal. That would be today's task. It hurt to swallow, but he pressed on. Didn't know it was possible to make banana pudding without bananas, but somehow, they've done it, he thought as he ate the last spoonful. He felt uncomfortably full, but at least he had something to add to his list of things he could do independently. He pushed his plate away as he heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," Hutch called. Dobey entered.

"Good afternoon, Hutchinson. Is now a bad time?"

"No, I just got done with lunch." And my stomach feels like it's about to burst, he added silently.

"Well, I won't stay long. I just wanted to let you know that the buy is tonight. We're getting everything ready as we speak. It should be over by this time tomorrow if we're lucky. Your partner asked about you and told me to keep you informed."

"Good. How are you planning to set things up?" He really wanted to ask how much danger Starsky and Chandler would be in, but he knew his captain was already concerned enough about the safety of his men.

"Let's just say it's not the most comfortable operation I've ever been a part of."

"I wish I could be there." Hutch frowned and fiddled with the blankets. Dobey's tone wasn't reassuring.

"I wish you were well enough. I'd better get back. We still have some details to iron out."

"Thanks for letting me know. Maybe Starsky can tell me how it goes when he gets back." If he gets back.

"I'll be sure and tell him you're expecting a report," Dobey replied.

"Thanks, Captain." Hutch coughed and closed his eyes for a second. The cough hurt his already sore throat.

"That doesn't sound good, Son. Don't you get sick now. You've been off the roster long enough." Dobey warned. Hutch couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.

"Sure thing. Wouldn't want to leave us shorthanded any longer than I have to."

"Yeah," Dobey grunted, "especially since you've got paperwork piling up since before your accident." Hutch made a face. Dobey chuckled and left to continue his preparations for the night.

As the day wore on, Hutch began to feel worse. He tried to look at a magazine the nurse had brought him, but turning the pages proved too tiring. Oh well. My head hurts too much to focus on anything anyway, he thought as he weakly turned onto his unscraped side. He felt his scabs pull open, but he ignored it. Calling the nurse and having to move again was the last thing he wanted to do. His broken arm felt awkward in this position, but he thought it was worth enduring to not lie on his sore back. He didn't move for hours. It hurt to think, much less move. He had no idea how long he'd been lying there when Ruth arrived with dinner.

"Hello, honey. Let's get you sitting so you can eat, okay?"

"No thanks."

"Oh, come on now. At least give it a try, sugar. I need to take your vitals anyway."

"Fine," Hutch sighed and gathered what little strength he could muster. After she helped him sit up, she noticed his once again bloody side and grabbed some more bandages.

"Why didn't you say anything, hon? Let's clean you up before dinner, okay?" Hutch nodded and allowed her to bandage his side, barely registering what she was doing. When she'd finished, she uncovered his plate. Hutch rubbed his face, hand stopping under his nose as he noticed the contents. Meatloaf and the hospital's version of green beans stared back at him.

"Take it away," he begged in a whisper.

"What?"

"I said take it away." He tried not to look at it. Why does it have to be meatloaf?

"At least try it, dear. Just a few bites," she encouraged him. He violently shook his head. His hand hadn't left its spot under his nose.

"No! The smell makes me nause-" He felt his entire body lurch as his previous meal made a dramatic reappearance all over his bed, tray, and dinner. He heaved a couple more times and gasped for air. Jenny's voice drifted in from the hallway,

"Hey, Ruth? Do you know when we ordered more-" Jenny stopped short when she entered the room.

Both nurses stared at him. Hutch watched as a disgusting mix of regurgitated pasta sauce and banana pudding dribbled off his tray and into the puddle on his sheets. His eyes followed the source up to his plate, which had taken the most direct hit. The meatloaf was an island in a sea of foul-smelling liquid. The sight made his stomach turn.

"Um…wow," Jenny said quietly, slowly regaining her senses. "Ruth, get me some towels. Are you okay, Ken?"

"I don't- I'm…uh…I'm…that is, I think- I think I'm good." He struggled to get the words out, still in shock from what had just happened. Ruth returned with the towels and handed one to her younger coworker. Jenny pushed the tray away from the bed and ran the towel under the faucet in the bathroom. She returned and gave it to Hutch. He gratefully accepted it with shaking hands, then buried his face in it and groaned. Ruth took his sheet and blanket and deposited them in the hamper for soiled laundry.

"Let's move him to the wheelchair," Jenny suggested. Ruth nodded and wheeled it over. "Ken? We need to get you in the chair for a minute, all right? Can you help us do that?" She spoke to him gently, like he was a child. Ordinarily, he might have found it condescending, but he felt so awful he didn't mind. It was oddly comforting. He nodded slowly and he brought the towel away from his face. Both nurses helped him swing his legs over the side of the bed, stand on his good leg, and sink into the chair. His whole body felt weak and shaky.

"You go ahead and check on everyone else. I can clean this up," Jenny offered. Ruth nodded and left. "Just rest for a minute. I'll be right here. Speak up if you need something," she instructed him as she dumped the contents of his plate into the trash.

"Sorry," he whispered, surveying the mess. You've really done it this time, Hutchinson! His face grew hot with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it." She did her best to wipe the worst of it away with the towels before adding them to the hamper. "I'll make sure that gets mopped and all later. We need to get you into the bathroom." She pushed his chair into the small room. "Now let's get your shirt off. I'll get it washed for you." She helped him ease it over his side and cast. He shivered.

"It's cold in here," he observed, avoiding her eyes.

"I know, I'll fix that in a minute. Think you can help me get the rest of your clothes off?" Hutch's ears burned as he took a gulp of air.

"Uh…I um…well, I don't- Why?" he questioned.

"They need washed," Jenny told him softly. She could sense he was uncomfortable with the situation. He glanced down and noticed that she was right.

"Yeah, okay." Resigned to the fact that Jenny was going to have to help him, he nodded aggressively and instantly regretted it. That was a stupid thing to do when your head hurts, he reprimanded himself. He tried to focus on anything but the current situation as Jenny helped him undress. After she was finished, she wrapped him in a towel. He was grateful for the warmth as well as the modesty it provided.

"How about a shower?" She asked him as she placed his clothes in a bag she found under the sink.

"A shower?" he asked hoarsely as if it were a foreign concept.

"Yes, we'll have to wrap your casts and side, but I think we can make it happen."

"I don't know," he replied hesitantly. Truth be told, he'd been wanting a shower ever since he'd arrived. But it was also a lot of work, and he was still feeling miserable.

"I can help you if you like," she told him as he blushed again. "I could also get Ruth to do it if you'd be more comfortable with that," Jenny added, sensing that she might be the reason for his reluctance.

"Can't I do it myself?" he almost whined. You sound pitiful, he thought. It's because I feel pitiful. Jenny felt sorry for her patient. She couldn't leave him entirely alone, but she didn't want to hurt his bruised ego more than necessary.

"Okay, how about this? After we get you ready and inside the shower, I'll leave, and you can do it yourself. I'll stay right outside though if you need assistance or anything." She smiled at him, hoping he'd accept her plan.

"Yeah. Sure. Do that."

Once she got him settled on the seat of the shower, she did as promised and stepped out after turning on the water for him. It was warm and felt wonderful on his skin. The water would have felt good on his side too, but he had to keep it wrapped up and dry. Between that and his casts, only about half of his body could get wet, but he didn't mind. He stuck his head under the spray, letting it soak his hair. Flecks of dried blood from his head swirled down the drain. Thankfully, it hadn't been bad enough to require stitches. It seemed to help his headache slightly. He didn't move or make much of an effort to properly shower, but rinsing off felt wonderful enough for the moment.

No one liked the plan. Starsky hated it, Chandler dreaded it, and Dobey thought it was entirely too risky. It felt like they were sending Chandler into a trap. It was dangerous, but Chandler had already avoided a big buy between Gonzalez and Gregory once. This time it couldn't be avoided. The stakes were too high, and time was running short. They had to make the bust at this deal, or the department would pull the plug on the whole operation. It was getting too expensive for the number of convictions they didn't have. Tonight was their last chance. Chandler himself had insisted they take it. Unfortunately, that meant great risk to his personal safety. If Gregory instantly recognized him as a cop, then it wouldn't be long before someone tried to kill him. Even if they somehow got lucky and that didn't happen, things could still end poorly. Chandler would be caught in the crossfire between the two groups of criminals and the police once the backup officers moved in.

Now, Starsky hid in the shadowy bushes under one of the pole barn's windows. He was assigned to provide immediate backup if Chandler got himself into trouble. Chandler would make sure this side of the barn would be left mostly unguarded. I wish Hutch were here, Starsky thought. Originally, they had planned to bust Gonzalez at his last deal with Gregory. However, since Chandler didn't go, that hadn't been an option. Had it been, Hutch would have been there too as extra security for Gonzalez due to his cover as a fringe member of the group. Now, all the immediate backup Chandler had was Starsky. Starsky felt his partner would be far more useful since Hutch could have been inside the building when things went down.

Starsky checked his gun for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was half an hour until the buy. He wanted to be sure that he could get a clear shot on anyone who tried to harm his fellow detective. The window he was under was already shattered, so he wouldn't have to break it first. He just had to hope he was at the correct angle and could shoot before it was too late. Other officers were positioned farther away. Some of them were in the neighboring woods, others were in the ditch by the highway. Once the buy was underway, they would close in and provide backup. Dobey's voice came over Starsky's radio.

"Starsky, do you copy?"

"Yeah, Cap'. I'm here. Looks good," he answered.

"Good. Don't forget to turn off your walkie when the action starts. Can't let it give your position away."

"Sure thing. I'm counting on you guys for backup when things get messy."

"We'll be there. Do you-"

"Hold on, Cap'. I see headlights. Update ya later," Starsky interrupted. He switched his radio off and crawled deeper into the bushes, pressing himself against the wall. A pickup truck had pulled into the gravel driveway leading to the barn. It stopped in front of the main door and the driver cut the engine. Starsky heard footsteps on the gravel. They were headed his direction. He held his breath, hoping they wouldn't see him. He couldn't see whoever it was due to the darkness and the thick bush he was hiding behind. The person stopped only a few feet away and turned to face Starsky's hiding place.

"You gonna say hi or what?" a familiar voice asked. Starsky breathed a sigh of relief. It was Chandler.

"Hey! You could have said something earlier. You scared me half to death!" Starsky complained. Chandler chuckled as Starsky poked his head out from behind the bush.

"Sorry, just thought it would be fun to see if I could spot you before I heard you speak."

"So, could you?" Starsky asked, curious as to how well he had hidden.

"Nope. I knew you were going to be under one of the windows, but there's several that would be good options. I took a lucky guess and here you were. Gonzalez sent me ahead to scope the place out. I'll try to make sure our outside guys don't wander this way until your backup comes in."

"Sounds good. You ready?" Starsky wondered what must be going through Chandler's head right now.

"Honestly, Starsky, I'm scared beyond belief. But this thing's a long time coming. We've worked too hard to let it fall apart now."

"Absolutely. We've both done stuff like this before though. We got this." Starsky wasn't sure if the reassurance was more for Chandler's benefit or his own. "I got your back in there though. Just yell if ya need me."

"Thanks. Think Hutch is sad he's missing all the action?" Chandler shifted the focus of the conversation away from himself to get his mind off thoughts of what could happen in the next hour.

"Maybe a little, but he'll get over it when we tell him how good we did."

"Besides, we probably wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. I'd likely be dead, and we'd have no one to arrest."

"True. I'll have to thank him for getting us into this mess," Starsky joked.

"I still can't believe he rode in that storm. The guy must be crazy!"

"Or just insanely stubborn. I don't understand it either, but it keeps us all breathing, so I can't complain."

"Anything that keeps us breathing is valuable in this job," Chandler commented. There was a long silence before he spoke again. "I called my wife yesterday."

"Yeah? How's she doing?" Starsky thought it was odd how seemingly casual their conversation sounded.

"As good as she can I suppose. I told her what I'm doing tonight. I left out a lot, but she knows the risks," Chandler replied. Starsky nodded. He knew what his colleague was trying to say. It wasn't a regular phone call. It was a potential goodbye.

"She's a good woman, Chandler. She understands you gotta do this."

"I know. I just…would you look in on her for me? You know, if-"

"Of course, I will, but I'm going to try my best to make sure I don't have to. And you are going to try to walk out of this barn unscathed, okay?" Starsky found Chandler's face in the darkness and tried to give him a look of fierce determination and courage. Chandler nodded and returned the same look. How is he this calm right now? Starsky wondered. How can he just turn off his nervousness like a switch?

"Thanks, man. I can see why Hutch says you're a good partner."

"He did?" Starsky smiled, glad to know his partner thought well of him.

"Yeah, because you keep him out of his head," Chandler explained as two pairs of headlights turned into the drive. "Well, looks like my friends are here. You'd better get down. See you after, Starsky." Chandler turned and walked back to the front of the building to greet the vehicle. Starsky couldn't see who it was, but guessed it had to be Gonzalez and some of his henchmen. He heard the barn door open and the group enter.

"You check this place out, Travis?" Someone asked.

"Inside and out, boss. It's clean," Chandler replied. Starsky assumed "boss" was Gonzalez.

"Gregory should be here soon. Put some guys outside as a welcoming committee," Gonzalez ordered.

"Want to take their weapons before we let them in?" Chandler asked, hoping he could at least make sure one party wouldn't be firing at him.

"Don't bother. He knows what'll happen if he tries to double-cross me. Besides, where else is he gonna get more when this runs out? He doesn't have the connections in Mexico like I do. He's dependent on us, especially since the cops nailed old what's his name."

He sounds confident, Starsky observed. He had never had a personal encounter with Gonzalez before, but he could clearly tell that Hutch had been right to describe the man as arrogant.

After a few minutes, another couple of vehicles arrived. This time it was Gregory and his people. Chandler counted the rafter beams to keep his mind from running wild. He hoped the beard he'd grown and the muscle he'd put on since the academy days would be enough to prevent Gregory from realizing they'd met before. He doubted it would, but he tried to think positively and took a deep breath. He was grateful the pole barn's lighting was weak. Gonzalez stepped forward.

"Gonzalez. Good to finally meet you," Gregory greeted him.

"You were satisfied with your last purchase I take it?" Gonzalez asked.

"Absolutely. It's expensive, but it's pure."

"Bad batches are bad business. I don't fool with that. You got the money?"

"The full seven thousand." Gregory smiled as he motioned for the case his right-hand man was holding. He opened it to display the money.

"Good, then let's make this quick. Knox, give the bag to Travis," Gonzalez ordered.

No! Chandler's heart pounded in his ears. I knew this couldn't go smoothly. He would be the one to personally hand the product over and receive the payment. Gonzalez always required the man who passed the merchandise over to be unarmed. It was a policy to prevent the buyers from having a justifiable reason to shoot his people in so-called self-defense. He reluctantly handed his gun to Gonzalez. There was no way he could do this without getting uncomfortably close to Gregory. Knox passed him the bag. Gonzalez nodded at him, indicating it was time.

Chandler stopped a few steps away from the man who could turn him into a target. Then he placed the bag on the floor and unzipped it, displaying the product inside. Gregory smiled in approval. Chandler stood and kicked the bag gently towards the other man. It slid nicely across the paved floor and stopped at Gregory's feet. Gregory stepped over it and held the case out. Chandler reached for the case. He desperately wanted to know what was going on in Gregory's head as their eyes met. He could sense the other man studying him. This is bad, he thought miserably as he backed away and handed the case to his boss.

"Excellent," Gonzalez commented as he opened it and examined the bills. He counted out a couple hundred and handed them to Chandler. "Here, Travis. Give these back to the man. We'll call it a return customer discount." Chandler tried to keep his expression neutral. Once again, he forced his feet to walk towards Gregory, taking his time in getting there.

"I appreciate the generosity." Gregory smiled, happy to be getting some of his money back.

"I appreciate a good buyer." Gonzalez replied.

Chandler held the bills out to Gregory as their eyes met once more. It could have been Chandler's imagination, but the man's eyes suddenly seemed darker. Chandler shook the feeling and fixed his gaze on the floor, waiting for Gregory to take the money. I might be okay. I don't think he recognize- Gregory's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"But you know what I don't appreciate?" Chandler froze. "I don't appreciate that your man Travis here is a cop." Chandler's head snapped up immediately. Every eye in the room was on him.

"What!? He must be on what we sold him! I don't know what he's talking about!" Chandler exclaimed. He laughed nervously, as if the accusation was the most far-fetched thing in the world.

"This some kind of joke?" Gonzalez demanded, clearly insulted.

"I think you're the one who's playing a joke on me, Gonzalez. I never pegged you for a rat, but here you are, helping the fuzz!" Chandler tried to back away, but one of Gregory's goons blocked his path and shoved him to the ground at Gregory's feet. Gonzalez was giving him a look that he couldn't decipher. Stunned, Chandler opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it when Gregory pulled a gun and pointed it directly at his head. All of Gonzalez's men suddenly pulled their guns too. Gonzalez held up a hand to discourage anyone from firing.

"I have no reason to believe he's a cop other than your word. I check all my men out." Gonzalez narrowed his gaze at his customer. "Besides," he continued, "if he is, then I'll deal with him. Personally." Chandler couldn't tell if he was bluffing or really believed the accusation was false. Not that it mattered. He was more concerned with the gun Gregory had aimed at his face.

Meanwhile, Starsky had been listening to the conversation from his spot outside. His stomach dropped when he heard Gregory say Chandler was a cop. He risked a peek over the windowsill. All eyes were on Chandler, so he went unnoticed. He considered intervening, but at that point everyone's guns weren't out. Maybe he can talk his way out of this, Starsky had thought, though he didn't really believe it was likely. Now, he watched in horror as Chandler was thrown at Gregory's feet and a gun was pointed at the unarmed man. Surprisingly, Gonzalez didn't seem to think Gregory knew what he was talking about. Starsky wasn't sure what to do. They hadn't accounted for this scenario.

"Well, you don't check them out good enough!" Gregory snapped as he pulled the hammer back on the gun. Chandler's eyes grew wide as a shot rang out.