Author's note:
Thank you dearly, Laura -- for your endless patience and genuine encouragement!
Thank you dearly, the reader -- for your time. Time is precious, each passing minute is a minute we can never get back.
Thank you for sharing your minutes with me!
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THE TICKING OF TIME
TEN MINUTES AFTER MIDNIGHT
By: Karen B.
Summary: A Bonus chapter for 'The Ticking Of Time
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Starsky pov::::
"Hey," I said breathlessly, giving Hutch that 'come here, I want to tell you something,' gesture.
"Yeah? Right here." Hutch crouched down, and I could see the intense look of worry on his face. I needed to erase that worry.
I struggled to get the words out, not quit sure what to say to ease his concern. My struggling made Hutch lean closer, and I had to swallow a few times to find my voice.
"I'm hungry," I playfully teased, finally having found the words I needed.
Hutch patted my shoulder, and stood, and moved toward the office door.
Mission accomplished -- but hungry? Hungry, I wasn't. Good thing Hutch left my side, 'cause I was going to be sick, this time for real. Unfortunately for Hutch he hadn't gone far, he'd only poked his head out the office door.
"Everything okay out here?" Hutch asked.
That's my partner, still minding the store.
"You folks just sit tight and don't worry. Theresa, just let me know when the ambulance arrives," he anxiously said, in a strained tone.
Looking at Hutch right then, I saw all the things I loved about my best friend. His strength, his honor, and compassion, his -- I felt like my heart picked up speed, and tried to raise myself up slightly. The action must have made the bullet shift because suddenly my upper back muscles were on fire, like I'd done ten thousand and two jumping jacks.
Hutch was still babbling at someone when I turned my head away, slipped full tilt, gagged hard, and vomited onto the floor.
"Ohhh," I groaned inwardly, "that looks appetizing."
"Hey. Hey." I heard the near panic rise up in Hutch's throat -- felt his breath in my ear. "You okay?" Hutch was hunkered down real close by my side. "Can I help you sit back up?"
"I guess," I exhaled, as he eased me against the couch.
"How you feeling?"
"Little foggy," I muttered, feeling myself drifting off. "Time is it?" I asked.
"Ten minutes after midnight," Hutch quickly replied.
"You look worried." I closed my eyes.
"I'm not worried," I heard Hutch whisper.
"Good," I sighed. "'Cause you always did worry too much."
"You don't worry enough," Hutch countered, then was real quiet.
I forced one eye to open and peered up at him. Hutch was visibly shaking, moisture settling in those baby blues, and I felt the need to stay aware, distract my buddy.
"Everything's fine," I told him.
"Not quite everything." Hutch's tone was cynical.
I knew he was talking about me, and my bullet, but I had to change that.
Forcing my other eye open, I said, "They give you a hard time?"
Hutch hesitated before saying, "Nothing I couldn't handle, buddy."
"What happen?" I asked, as I attempted to change his thoughts. "What about Monty?"
"The man wanted linguine -- he would have been better off with liver and onions." Hutch tried to play along, but seeing me in trouble the way I was, he was barely holding it together like he had earlier on.
"Or scrambled eggs," I added. "And the other two?"
"Wild Man is dead. The suit and tie is cuffed with a graze to his shoulder, Theresa's got a gun on him."
"They never had a chance," I joked, as I struggled against the blackness that was trying to take me and hold me prisoner.
"You sure you're okay?" I heard Hutch's voice from afar, but I knew he was close, as fingers fumbled with the cloth against my back.
"Fine," I nodded.
It was a lie.
"Good." Hutch smiled.
My partner knew it was a lie -- but he went along with it anyway.
We stared at each other a few minutes and I could see my haggard reflection in Hutch's eyes. I felt a coldness take over my body and my vision gave way -- and I gagged. I wasn't feeling fire explode in my back like before, that was good. But my breath kept stalling, as I rode upon long waves of dizziness. I wanted to raise a hand toward Hutch, but I felt like ice cream melting. My stomach clenched at the thought of food, and I gagged again.
"Easy, now." Hutch must have taken me into his arms 'cause suddenly some of that coldness had left.
"No more eating, " I whispered my resolution into his chest.
"That's what you said the last time you threw up." Hutch gave a little laugh, or maybe it was a big laugh. I couldn't quit hear over the beehive buzzing in my ears.
"Yeah, I know," I coughed, and struggled to open my eyes -- but couldn't.
"And the time before that, Starsk."
"Mean it -- this time."
"Sure, partner. Hold on, Starsk, they're almost here."
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Hutch pov::::
I left the scum out in the restaurant, only wanting to be with my partner now, wanting to shut everything else out. I sat next to Starsky, holding him close. Leaning my head against the couch I could feel the sweat dripping down my back. It'd only been a little over an hour since this whole thing started, but it felt like a lifetime already, and help still wasn't here.
"Dead? Hutch?" Starsky, said, choking and restlessly moving.
"It's over," I reminded softly, as I whispered into Starsky's ear, and for a moment he settled.
I pushed the hair away from his eyes. "That should help, pal," I said.
I snorted. What was I talking about? Nothing was going to help until that slug was out. I closed my eyes and shuddered, thinking of what could have happened.
So I kept us all from turning up dead. That didn't change the fact my partner didn't have a chance to escape the bullet that was forced into his back. I was really terrified. Ten minutes after midnight -- and he looked worse than ever.
The makeshift bandages were now soaked through with blood, and Starsky had fallen into a half-conscious state. I could feel him shivering. Could feel the cold slicing through him -- into me. He'd lost too much blood. Pulling the blankets tighter around him, I held him closer as I waited for the ambulance.
Waiting -- I never was very good at it. After this was all over, I think I might have to buy a half dozen alarm clocks, take them out behind Huggy's, and smash them with a hammer, followed by a half-dozen beers. All as a form of meditation, of course.
I looked down at Starsky. His curls were limp and damp, his face ghostly white. Checking his heart rate, I found it to be too fast, his breathing shallow.
"Damn it!" I looked up at the small office window. "Where are they?" I shouted, just as a flash of lightning lit the small room, followed by a clap of loud thunder.
Starsky flinched in my hold as if struck by a heavy blow. "Hutch." His eyes fluttered once, and his brow narrowed into a frown.
"Sorry, buddy." I lifted him a little higher in my embrace. "It's okay. It'll be okay."
"Uhmmm." I barely heard the reply as he snuggled nearer.
"Starsk, hold on. Just hold on."
He scarcely nodded, and I wasn't sure if he had actually heard. I could feel my partner slipping away from me, like water through cupped hands. I wanted to scream -- had to take several deep breaths not to, then I covered my mouth with my hand to calm myself down. He was still alive. I kept the mantra going in my head.
"He's still alive," I said quietly to the empty room, as if saying it would keep it that way.
I sat quietly, letting delicate fingers keep vigil on his heart rate along the side of his neck.
Suddenly the sound of excited voices and the clatter of a metal gurney hit my ears, and I nearly passed out in my relief.
"They're here, Starsky," I sighed heavily, watching his eyes dance open then shut again, as the guys in white came bursting through the office door.
"What's wrong with him?" One medic asked right away, struggling to shove the gurney through the small doorway. I noticed the name, Chaz stitched on his uniform.
"One bullet in his upper back, it's in deep, and the other grazed his temple," I said, feeling my own blood rushing in my ears, and a sick feeling fluttering in my stomach. "Help's here now, Starsk. They're going to take care of you," I said, not taking my eyes off him.
It was pure torture, but I stroked the side of Starsky's neck one last time, feeling his heartbeat, then moved to let the medics take over.
I moved to lean against the wall, trying to stop my hands from shaking, as the medics began fussing with urgent care over my wounded partner. Chaz started an IV, placed an oxygen mask over Starsky's mouth and nose while the other medic relayed my friend's weakened vital signs to the hospital.
"How about you? Are you okay?" Chaz raised his eyes to me. "Anyone else hurt?"
"I winged a man in the shoulder. He's out there." I gestured with a nod of my head toward the office door. "He's not bad off. Just--just --" my voice caught. "Just take care of my partner."
"We'll get to that guy in a bit, there's officers out there with him right now," Chaz told his partner. "We have to get this guy stable first."
I watched them work on Starsky, hoping my first-aid hadn't hurt him more that it helped. I mentally kicked myself for moving him; it couldn't have done him any good, not to mention slinging that jug and falling off the couch. I bit into my lower lip. Feeling the effects of adrenaline wearing off, I leaned heavier against the wall.
"Let's have a look at this," Chaz said.
And it wasn't until they removed the cloths from Starsky's back, and more blood spilled from the hole, that I almost lost consciousness myself. But no way I was going to skip out on my partner.
"How--how's it look?" I unclamped my bottom lip long enough to ask.
"Looks pretty bad," Chaz grunted under his breath, almost as if he forgot I was there. He glanced up at me "You called it, it's deep, and I'm pretty sure he is in shock." I felt my stomach dip. "Luckily, it looks like you thought fast, and staunched a lot of the blood flow with this contraption you rigged up." Chaz's eyes softened. "You probably saved his life," he said, going back to work.
I sucked in a breath watching Chaz's partner hand him a sponge, and clean up the fresh flow of blood. He then placed a thick square piece of gauze against the wound.
"Hold this down, tight, all right?" he instructed his partner, as he started to tape the gauze in place.
"Erhhh." Starsky drew in a sharp gulp of air, his lips pulling into a twist of pain, as his breathing got heavy.
The sound was so tinged with confusion and pain, I shifted and stood away from the wall, my body feeling hard as a rock. "What? What's wrong?" I yelled, knowing I was overreacting, but I didn't feel like I could trust anyone at this point.
Chaz looked at me and cocked his head. He must have sensed all that we'd been through because he had an earnest and very sympathetic look on his face.
The way he held a hand to Starsky's forehead, his thumb gently caressing his temple, calmed me some. "You don't know me, but I won't do anything to jeopardize him further." He waited for that to sink in, then told me what I already knew. "We have to move him now. It's going to cause him discomfort," he calmly and caringly explained.
I took a step forward and loomed protectively over my partner. He wasn't going anywhere without me.
"We're a package deal," I growled with a tone that could move heaven and earth.
The medics stole a glance with one another, comparing notes, I assumed. They reminded me of Starsky and I. What I wouldn't give to steal a glance with my partner right now. They wanted to argue the point but didn't say a word as I got the 'okay' nod, and they gently lifted my partner, and lowered him to the gurney, and strapped him in.
I watched a scowl appear on Starsky's face as he doggedly tried to open his eyes. I moved in close and put a hand to his shoulder so he would know I was there.
"Hutch," he called softly, his eyes slowly drifted open. "Wh' we go--goin'?" he slurred.
"Relax, pal, I whispered in a low soothing voice "We're going to finish this movie." I held Starsky's gaze, worried by the dull and far-off look in them. "Remember, Starsky -- good guys always win."
Starsky gave me a small smile. "That'd be us."
"That'd be us, partner," I confirmed.
TBC...Chapter three of four