Chapter 6

By morning, Starsky's condition had deteriorated. His fever was back up and his breathing labored as his lungs began to fill with fluid. His head moved restlessly back and forth on the pillow, a low moan escaping periodically from his dry parched lips. All Hutch could do was sit helplessly by his side, bathing the sweaty feverish face with a wet cloth. Hutch spoke to the brunet in a calm, soothing voice, letting the sound of his voice offer the only comfort he could for the seriously ill brunet.

During his more rational periods, Starsky would reach for Hutch's hand, holding on tightly, using it as his lifeline to keep him grounded and secure. The nurses and the rest of the medical staff drifted in and out of the room, checking his vital signs, making notes on his chart, taking samples of his blood and keeping an eye on the exhausted blond at his side. Most of the nurses and technicians were familiar with the two police officers from previous stays in the hospital and were sincerely touched by the unique bond they shared. A couple of the nurses had even dated either Hutch or Starsky in the past and found them to be perfect gentlemen.

"Hutch," a pretty nurse named Cindy said as she brought in a tray and carefully set it on the bedside table. "I brought you some tea and something to eat…and I want you to eat it."

"Thanks." Hutch acknowledged her orders but his entire attention remained focused on Starsky.

"I mean it." Cindy warned him in a scolding tone "I want to see that food gone when I get back." She turned and left the room on quiet, rubber soled shoes. She knew from experience that Hutch would neglect his own health while he was worrying about the welfare of his friend. She hoped that he would at least take the time to eat part of the food she had brought him. Familiar with his tastes, she had made sure to bring healthy choices to tempt his appetite; freshly cut melon, a fresh salad with the dressing on the side, and a rich bowl of chicken soup. She had added a pot of herbal tea that she had made from her own personal stash in the break room. If the tray had been for Starsky, her choices would have been drastically different. She was one of the few nurses who had dated both men in the past and was familiar with their personal likes and their dislikes.

After she had left the room, Hutch continued to minister to his friend, ignoring the tray of food. He glanced up as the door to the room opened and Doctor Franklin entered the room accompanied by two unfamiliar faces. Both of the other men were roughly Hutch's age, one with sandy colored hair and a crooked nose while the other man was tall and thin with closely cut black hair and pale blue eyes.

"Ken Hutchinson," Doctor Franklin said "This is Doctor Ben Walgreen" he nodded at the tall thin man by way of an introduction, "And his associate, Doctor Peter Barnes. They're from the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta."

"We're pleased to meet you, Detective Hutchinson." Doctor Barnes said, using Hutch's formal title. "I just wish it could be under different circumstances."

"So do I." Hutch said with a hint of irritation in his voice. More doctors meant more tests and more discomfort for Starsky.

"We are very interested in your partner's case." Doctor Barnes continued. "It's very similar to four other cases that have been identified in various parts of the United States in the past five years. We're hoping to find some kind of common denominator to link the cases together."

"What happened to the other victims?" Hutch asked, voicing the only question he cared to know the answer to.

"I'm sorry to say…that they all died from this particular virus." Doctor Walgreen answered for his colleague.

Hutch turned to glare at the three doctors, his eyes as cold as chips of blue ice. "That's not gonna happen to Starsky!" he hissed through tightly clenched teeth. "If you've dealt with this virus before than surely you must know something about it! You must have some kind of vaccine you can use…"

"I'm afraid not." Doctor Barnes said in a sympathetic tone. This was the part he hated the most, telling distraught friends and family members that just because he worked for the Center for Disease Control, he was not a miracle worker. "We can track the progress of the virus and slow it down but that's about the best we can do."

"THEN WHAT FUCKING USE ARE YOU?" Hutch yelled angrily. He lowered his voice when Starsky shifted positions and groaned at the sudden noise level in the room. Quickly turning his attention back to the brunet, he reached out and gently ran his fingers through the thick soft curls. "Shhhhh…it's okay, babe…go back to sleep." Starsky relaxed immediately, falling back into a deep drugged slumber. Moving away from the brunet's side, Hutch approached the three doctors, fire in his eyes as he confronted them. "Are you trying to tell me that there's nothing you can do for him? With all your education and fancy degrees…all your knowledge…he's going to die from this damn thing?'

"There's only so much anyone can do for Detective Starsky." Doctor Walgreen said, undisturbed by Hutch's self righteous outburst. "We just don't know enough about this virus to fight it. All we do know is that so far in the four other cases, it has been fatal. One by one it attacks all the major systems in the patient's body, shutting them down until they're too weak to survive without life support and even then, it's just a matter of time until their hearts just stop."

"How long?" Hutch asked, trying to keep his voice as calm and level as possible despite the fact that the doctors had essentially just passed a death sentence on the brunet.

"It varies with each case depending on the physical condition and medical history of the patient. Two of the other patients died within a few days, the other two held on for a few weeks." Doctor Barnes told him. "Based on what we've been told about your partner's physical condition and previous medical history…it's hard to say. He could be one of the lucky ones and last for a few weeks. From what we've been told he is obviously a fighter and has a strong will to live. That's definitely in his favor."

"So what are you going to do now that you're here?" Hutch asked

"Running some tests…monitoring his condition closely. Adding some new medications and treatments that will help slow down the virus and should make him more comfortable." Doctor Walgreen said. "We can talk more later. Right now, we'd like to review your friend's chart in more detail and make some recommendations for his care. Although we know that the virus is not contagious and isn't spread by direct contact, we will be putting him under isolation to limit outside contact. As his system weakens, he will be more vulnerable to other infections and germs."

Hutch nodded absently. The three doctors quietly left the room. Slowly, Hutch turned and walked back to his partner's side. Sinking down in the chair beside the bed, he picked up the washcloth and wet it, gently wiping the sweat from Starsky feverish brow.

Is this it, buddy? Am I really going to lose you this time? After all those close calls out there on the streets, after Gunther…is some stupid virus going be the thing that does you in? It's not fair…it's just not fair. I'm not ready to let you go…I never will be.

Even though Hutch had not spoken his thoughts out loud, Starsky seemed to sense the big blond's distress. His hand raised feebly, his fingers wiggling until Hutch grasped his hand and held on tightly. Starsky's fingers automatically tightened around Hutch's hand even though the brunet still appeared to be asleep. Even as sick as the brunet was he was still trying to comfort Hutch.