Chapter 16 - as promised

'He's hurt? Shit, here, help me up' Hutch snapped, pulling the sheets back to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Traff crossed the room in two strides, pushing the blond back onto the bed.

'I said they're bringing him here. In an ambulance. Just hold on there Cochise, it won't do any good to get yourself all bent over and undo all the hard work you've put into getting right. There's a nurse on her way with a wheelchair, then we can get down to the ER and meet the ambulance.'

'He must be bad if they're sending him here rather than treating him the prison. How do you know about him? Who told you?'

'The Warden. That guy Mallozzi rang me about a half an hour ago. The details are a little sketchy but apparently he was found in the exercise yard collapsed on the ground. There were three other prisoners who seemed to have attacked him, they um…they'd gotten a knife from somewhere…. and there was a guard there. He's been detained pending questioning' Traff looked uncomfortable.

'A guard?'

'I'm sorry Chief. From the description it sounds like the turkey I had an encounter with the other night. I feel like shit Hutch! This is my fault. If I hadn't followed the guy and….'

'If you hadn't had the "conversation" with him, Starsky would still be someone's little pet right now. You weren't to know Traff. Don't beat yourself up about it. You did it to try to protect him.'

'I know, but still…. I had no idea that anyone would do somethin' like this. He sounds… they said he was bad.'

At that moment, the door to the room was pushed open and a nurse appeared pushing an empty wheelchair. She drew it up to the side of the bed, unhooked the drip bag from the stand and waited while Hutch got himself out of bed and sank wearily into the chair. All the benefits of his stay in hospital seemed to have flowed away from him, and his optimism and warm fuzziness of a while ago had been replaced once again by anger and now fear for his partner's life. The nurse threaded the drip bag through the arm of Hutch's robe, his arm following suit and carefully she arranged the robe around his shoulders. Traff nodded to the pretty young woman.

'I can take it from here' the soldier grunted and took a hold of the handles off the chair. He turned the chair and headed for the door, out into the corridor and down in the elevator to the ground floor. In contrast to the quiet efficiency of the upper levels, the Emergency room of Bay City's Memorial hospital was a study in perpetual motion. Split into three distinct areas, there was the minor injuries unit dealing with everything from nose bleeds and splinters to those waiting for xrays on various portions of their anatomy.

The second area was for those who were more poorly and was full of curtained cubicles and larger glass partitioned rooms. This area too was a hive of activity as doctors and nurses pushed into cubicles, carried out their procedures and left. The patient turnover here was high, with those who'd received treatment being discharged either home, or to the various wards.

The third area was also an area of intense activity, but here, in the resuscitation rooms, the air was one of well controlled panic, the adrenaline almost palpable in the air. Here, larger bays held beds draped in white surrounded by the various machinery that may be required to save a patient's life. The more senior staff here had a cool, calm exterior that exuded confidence in themselves and the other team members. Whereas outside, the volume of noise was high, in here, there were words said in more hushed tones, the staff knowing their role and communicating more with a twitch of an eyebrow or flick of a hand rather than a shouted command.

It was to this area that the brunet was wheeled just as Traff pushed Hutch's chair through the door. The soldier had to place a restraining hand on the blond's shoulder to stop Hutch from leaping from his chair to go to his partner's side. Hutch wanted to be by Starsky. He needed to let his partner know that he was there and he was going to stay by his side once again. He wanted the brunet to know that nothing had changed between them and he didn't blame his partner for what had happened to him. Traff pulled the chair to one corner of the room and waited quietly as both men watched the doctors and nurses fighting to stabilize the brunet's life signs.

The glimpses they had of Starsky's body showed that his dark blue prison fatigues were wet and shiny and darkly stained with blood. The brunet's left arm hung limply down from the side of the gurney and as the medics parted for a moment, they could see blood seeping from a deep and bloody wound on the brunet's neck. Starsky's eyes were closed, his skin gray and as the doctors closed ranks around the gurney again, Hutch put his head in his hands and hitched a sob.

'Why? What is it with these fuckin' guys? Why him? He should never have been on that wing anyway. He's not even convicted….he aint gonna be convicted. He didn't do any of this on purpose. Someone, somewhere made this happen. I need to get to him. I need to let him know I'm here. I need to let him know he aint on his own any more. I need to..'

At that moment, there was a clanging of alarms and the people round the table were galvanised into even more action as they reacted to the fact that Starsky's heart had stopped. But for Hutch, the world stood still. No one moved for a hundred years as Hutch's heart rate hiked up a level and the beating hammered at his chest wall. No one moved. No one seemed to speak. Minutes flowed into hours which flowed into days as the brunet's life hung in the balance. Hutch strove to get to his partner, to tell him that nothing had changed, that he was still there for him. That it was still the same as always and that he still loved the man like a brother.

And then the bubble broke and the blond felt all hell broke loose. Traff and Hutch heard commands of Adrenaline, oxygen and central lines and without knowing it, Hutch had opened his mouth and yelled STARSKYYYYY at the top of his voice, struggling to get out of his chair.

The alarm stopped. The silence in the room deafening and Hutch know that once again, his partner had somehow obeyed his commands. No way would the brunet do anything against Hutch's will, including dying without permission, and at that moment, Hutch knew with certainty that his bond with Starsky was as strong as ever. Whatever fate could throw at them, whatever flake got in their way, they were still brothers at heart.

For a brief moment there was silence around the bed before those blessed words…."we have sinus rhythm" and those within earshot relaxed. The medics went back to their work, stemming the flow of blood, assessing damage, inserting tubes and calling for further investigations. For an hour, the team worked over the brunet's body to stabilize it and by the end of that time, Starsky's clothes had been cut away and the floor around the gurney was littered with blood soaked gauze pads and plastic wrappers from various dressings.

During that time, Traff and Hutch sat quietly back, transfixed by what was happening to their friend. They hardly dared breathe in case they upset the equilibrium in the room and caused another panic, but finally the air of intensity seemed to dissipate slightly and one or two of the staff drifted away until eventually there was one doctor and two nurses left behind, cleaning up and preparing for the brunet to be moved. With a sigh, and slinging his stethoscope around his neck, the young doctor turned and saw the two spectators as though for the first time. He smiled at them and walked over just as two prison guards walked into the ER. The medic paused and glared at the uniformed officers.

'You two can wait outside. He isn't in a position to do anything for himself at the moment, he's hardly gonna get up and run away' he growled at them.

'Orders is orders' one of them grunted as the young doctor pulled himself up to his full height.

'You might get away with that in jail, but out here, it doesn't cut it. This is my hospital and my rules, and while you're in my ER, what I say goes. You're more than welcome to wait outside that door, there's only one way in or out of this room. But as for standing watch over him by the bed, you'll be in the way, forget it. Do I make myself clear?'

The two men grumbled under their breath, but didn't argue and as they turned to depart, the doctor turned his attention back to the two men in the corner.

'Are you friends of his?' he asked.

'Yeah, he's my partner. We're cops. How is he? Is he gonna make it?' Hutch asked quickly.

The doctor didn't query the fact that one of the cops was in a prisoner's outfit, but he hunkered down by the side of the wheelchair, his face serious in the extreme.

'I'm afraid your partner has taken quite some beating, Mr….?'

'Hutchinson….Hutch. Is he gonna be ok?'

'He's lost a lot of blood, more than we would have liked and we'll be replacing that. He has a deep wound on his neck and from what I can see of the rest of him, he has fractured ribs, a punctured lung and extensive bruising, but it's the head injuries we're more concerned about. There is some swelling of his brain, and we will be keeping him unconscious after the surgery, just to help his body recover. We um…. We aren't sure how he's going to be once he comes around.'

'You mean he might have…' Hutch could hardly bring himself to utter the words.

'There may be some brain damage, yes. At the very least, we aren't sure whether he'll be able to hear again. He took several hard kicks to the side of his head and he has extensive bruising there.'

'Is he awake now?' Hutch asked softly.

'His level of consciousness is variable at the moment. We need to get him up to the OR as soon as we can.'

'Can I see him….just for a moment? Please Doc. Its important' the blond asked.

'I should really say no, but I think it may do him good to know he has friends here. No more than a minute. We need to act fast.'

Traff wheeled the chair over to the side of the gurney and both men gasped at the damage that had been done to their friend. The whole right hand side of Starsky's face was blackened by one massive bruise, his eye swollen closed and an ominous crusting of blood coming from his right ear. His nose too had been bleeding and there were cuts and grazes across his cheeks and forehead. A large white dressing covered the entire right hand side of his neck and tubes had been inserted in both arms. An oxygen mask fitted over the brunet's mouth and nose and the occasional misting of its interior was the only sign that Starsky was breathing.

Lower down, bruising and abrasions marred his chest and abdomen and there was a large swelling over the right and centre of the usually washboard flat stomach. The rest of the brunet's body was covered in a single sheet and hid the further damage although there were spots of blood on the covering.

Hutch reached out and took a hold of Starsky's left hand, holding it tight and squeezing it gently as though to reassure himself that his partner was still there with him. It was the first contact he'd had with his partner in a month and he savoured it. Stiffly, Hutch got up from the chair and leaned over the table.

'Starsk?' he whispered, his other hand, decorated with its own needle carding gently through blood matted curls. There was a flicker of eyelids at the word and the blond tried harder.

'Starsky, open your eyes for me buddy. Starsk?'

Slowly one indigo eye cracked open and regarded the blond warily. Fear resided in that one eye, but with it relief that Hutch was once again by his side. Slowly Starsky tried to bring his hand up, pawing at his ear, as though trying to clear it. It was obvious that the brunet couldn't hear a word, but was comforted by the presence anyway.

Despite the obvious pain, Starsky's lips worked at forming words and as Hutch leaned closer he heard a pained whisper, the first words he'd had with his partner in such a long time.

Ut….sssh…..don't…..leave me.'