Disclaimer: This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit. It is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders of the rights to Starsky and Hutch.
This is the first time that I will be posting by chapters—thanks Eli and S'gal! Hope it works! Mahalo to all of the wonderful people in my life, who continue to encourage, support, and inspire me in my endeavor to write.
Warning: This story might be considered a dark one and contains some graphic scenes and foul language that may be offensive to some readers.
oo Silent Witness oo
CHAPTER TWO
(Memorial Hospital, ICU Ward)
Hutch sighed and gently rubbed his silent partner's cold, limp arm. Comatose. Just the sound of that word caused the blond to tremble in fear. It had been almost six days since his partner sustained the head injury that had put him in this state, and Hutch knew that the longer it took for Starsky to become conscious, the likelihood of him remaining in the coma increased.
As it neared the end of the week with no improvement from the brunet, the blond could feel his heart grow heavy with despair. Though the three teenage boys had been found and rounded up by the patrolmen who had also responded to the 211; and they were now locked up in the juvenile boys detention home, it brought no joy . . . no sense of justice to Hutch.
"Starsk," the blond sadly whispered, "I-I need you to open your eyes now buddy." Hutch's pale, blue eyes softened as it skimmed over the familiar features of his partner's face. The long, dark lashes remained closed. He brushed back the unruly, chocolate brown curls from his friend's forehead and smiled as one tendril wrapped possessively around his pinkie. Hutch snorted softly and gently enticed, "C'mon pal, I know you're in there . . . vacation time is over . . . I-I miss you buddy . . ." the blond said brokenly. His pale, blue eyes searched the brunet's face for any movement or reaction and then he sighed softly, wrapping his long arm around the sheet covered torso of his friend, while leaning his blond head on the edge of the bed in which his partner lay . . .
"The bullet only grazed his scalp, but compounded upon this same injury, was the impact to the side of his skull when his head collided into the metal trash receptacle. Apparently the head injury caused Detective Starsky to lose consciousness at the site and as of yet, he still hasn't regained his senses . . ." Dr. Bradford, a neurological surgeon that was called onto the case, calmly said. He was a rather short, bespectacled man, who gazed up into the weary light blue eyes of the tall blond detective.
"But he will be okay, right doc?" Hutch queried anxiously, "I mean . . . the bullet just grazed him . . . he will regain consciousness soon right?"
"The CT scan we did on Detective Starsky proved to be very positive. There was no sign of TBI . . ."
"TBI . . . please doctor," Hutch interjected curtly, "Can you explain this to me in layman's terms." The blond looked up at the wall clock in the ER waiting room. It was already 2:18 in the morning and he hadn't been able to see Starsky since they brought him in at 11:10 pm.
Hutch was exhausted, his back aching from the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. Dobey had left shortly after midnight and the tall blond's patience was wearing thin. The need to see his partner became his foremost thought and the delays were beginning to wrack his nerves. Hutch impatiently rubbed the grit from the corners of his eyes with his index finger and thumb as he wearily listened to the doctor.
"TBI simply means traumatic brain injury. The scan we performed showed no sign of any damage to your partner's brain, his skull was not fractured in any way, there was no cerebral contusions or bruising of the brain, no signs of epidural or subdural hematoma, or bleeding between the dura matter and the skull. Other than the laceration on the surface of his scalp from the passing bullet, which we have cleaned and stitched, your partner, should at the most, be suffering from a mild concussion. There is no medical reason as to why Detective Starsky has lapsed into a comatose state . . ."
"W-Wait a minute doc . . . a comatose state . . . you're telling me that my p-partner's in a coma?" Hutch stammered; disbelief and sudden fear evident in his tone of voice.
The doctor sighed softly, "Yes, Detective Hutchinson, unfortunately, that is what I'm saying. A coma is a profound state of unconsciousness and a comatose patient cannot be awakened. Your partner is not responding to pain or light, does not have sleep-wake cycles and is not taking voluntary actions. Brian traumas are the most common causes of coma and accounts for 60 of all cases, however all of our tests show that Detective Starsky had no indication of any trauma to his brain . . ."
The diminutive doctor took his thick glasses off the bridge of his nose and rubbed the red indentation there, "We cannot medically explain the reason why your partner has lapsed into a coma at this time, Detective Hutchinson, and hopefully, he will awaken soon. The longer he stays under, in a comatose state, the chances for recovery become slimmer . . . I'm sorry Detective, we can only wait and see."
The smaller man looked up at the tall blond who looked shocked and pale by the information he had just divulged, and it pained the doctor greatly. He looked up at the worried detective, "Would you like to see him? He's been set up in the ICU ward, monitors are keeping watch over his vitals and his brain activity . . . you can sit with him for a while. Your partner is in great physical condition and that in itself, is a plus for him . . . only time will tell . . . I'm sorry I don't have better news for you, Detective Hutchinson . . ."
Hutch lifted his weary head to once again look over his partner. "Look buddy, if you're gonna just lie there like that, the least you could do is move over . . . this chair is damn uncomfortable . . ." Hutch snorted softly at his own joke and stared at his sleeping friend. Starsky looked so peaceful lying there . . . so still . . . it was like the vibrant life force that was such a part of his partner's nature was gone.
It brought back unpleasant memories of the time Starsky lay in another bed like this, right after Gunther's attack in the police garage almost two and a half years ago. Thinking about that awful time made the blond feel even lower than he was already feeling.
It was hard to remain optimistic and hopeful as the days drifted by, and his partner remained lifeless and inert. Hutch sighed, and like a movie projector that was suddenly turned on in his mind, the blond played over all the times that he and Starsky had shared together, times of laughter, as well as sorrow, and a great empty sadness filled his heart at the possibility of losing his curly haired friend. Hutch willfully pushed that despairing thought aside, as he gently entwined his fingers with the cold limp hand that was closest to him and squeezed slightly. No response.
Hutch wrapped his other arm tighter around his partner, and lowered his blond head to press against the brunet's ribs. The fair haired detective squeezed his eyes shut, holding back the hot tears of abject fear and loneliness that wanted to silently flow out, "Please Starsk," he whispered against the clean white sheet, "Please don't leave me . . . I don't know where you are, and I don't know how to bring you back . . . but I'll be here buddy. I'll always be here . . . waiting . . . just me and thee. I've got your back Starsk, but you've got to turn around and come home to me 'cause I can't follow where you're
going . . ."
-.-.-.-.oo0oo.-.-.-.-
He was floating in tranquil darkness, and yet, he knew he needed to be somewhere else. He could feel the almost desperate 'pull' of something stronger than the presence he sensed there with him the darkness, an intense need to be somewhere . . . with . . . someone. A sudden, blinding flash of light and an intense pounding pain, disturbed the placid serenity of the ebony peace he dwelled in; and an image as clear as day, rose behind his closed eyes.
He could see a man with his face pressed into a white sheet that covered a body. The blond man's shoulders shook gently as he grieved, and a feeling of profound sadness and loss pervaded and flooded the once quiet, peaceful, emptiness that he drifted in. His mind recollected that he knew the blond . . . he could 'feel' the hurt and the forlorn hopelessness that pulsed out of the fair-headed man and it flooded and fused into his own being.
It was Hutch. Hutch needed him and he had to be there. He struggled through the lethargic murkiness that clutched at him, that wanted to keep him floating in the dark abyss, away from the pain. A part of him wanted to stay in that tranquil nothingness; where no pain or anxiety could reach him, but it was Hutch . . . and nothing would keep him from his partner's side. Nothing!
-.-.-.-.oo0oo.-.-.-.-
Hutch lifted his head and scrubbed at his burning eyes. He glanced down at their entwined fingers and once again, looked over at his partner's placid features. Starsky looked at peace, motionless and serene, yet, Hutch was sure he felt the slight pressure of his partner's fingers as they weakly pressed against his own. Was he imagining it? Was the need for his partner causing him to hallucinate? "S-Starsk?" The hopeful blond whispered, "Buddy?" Hutch gently shook the listless hand he still clutched with his own.
"Ungh" the brunet moaned softly, much to joy of the blond who quickly stood, pushing the uncomfortable chair back in his haste.
"Oh my god . . . Starsky," Hutch whispered jubilantly, unable to keep the excitement and joy from his voice. This was the first sound that he had heard from his usually incessantly talkative partner, since that awful night in the alley when they crouched behind the garbage bin.
"C'mon buddy . . .you can do it . . . come back to me Starsk . . ." The blond squeezed his partner's hand, and was once again overjoyed when he felt the brunet's fingers press weakly into his own. "Oh my god . . ." Hutch smiled, unable to contain the joy that burst from his heart. Without letting go of Starsky's hand, the blond reached over to press the call button to summon a nurse.
Hutch watched as the heavy, dark lashes slowly lifted to reveal dazed blue orbs that peeked out at half-mast. The blond smiled hugely, so joyously thrilled to see those wonderful eyes that he had missed so much, as they slowly roved around the room, taking in his surroundings.
The confusion in that familiar blue gaze slowly dissipated, as the bewildered look changed to one of recognition when Starsky gazed into the soft sky colored eyes of his friend. Hutch's smile widened, as he saw the corners of the brunet's mouth slowly lift into a lopsided grin and the blond instinctively knew that everything was going to be all right . . .
To be continued . . .
