CHAPTER 9

Hutch felt himself slipping, his surroundings growing dim. Emotionally, his desire to keep vigil over Starsky wilted as his own injuries threatened to consume him. It was easier to keep his eyes closed and let himself be transferred to the ambulance.

While the medics were busy carefully maneuvering the gurneys down to the waiting emergency vehicles, Dennis voiced his concerns about their charges.

"Bernie, make sure they both are loaded in the same ambulance. They're partners."

"Since Starsky's injuries are more severe, shouldn't he go ahead of Hutchinson?"

"These guys are close. Yeah, they're police partners and that in itself means they work together every day. But these two, well, it's legendary around town that they not only work as a well oiled machine, but they just have this weird connection between them." When he saw Bernie's quizzical look, he tried to explain since Bernie was new to the ambulance crew and to Bay City.

"These two men are connected in a way that not many people ever experience. You've seen already how Hutchinson has pushed himself to stay clear enough to keep track of his partner's condition. If it were any other man, he woulda given in long ago due to blood loss or pain, but not Detective Hutchinson. "

"Starsky's pretty bad off and if we don't get him proper treatment soon.." Dennis' voice trailed off as he watched Bernie take another blood pressure reading on Starsky. As if to prove his point, Hutch groaned and gasped. Bernie watched in awe as the blond man turned toward his partner, even though he seemed to be unconscious. Dennis checked Hutch's heart rate again and wasn't surprised when all readings had elevated.

Dennis inclined his head toward the other medic. Bernie was convinced of the need for quick action.

The first thing Hutch became aware of was a dark pair of brown eyes that met his own as he regained consciousness. He gasped as someone else rolled him on his side. He focused on Peggy's strong voice as she oriented him regarding his injuries and what was going on around him.

St. Cloud Medical Center was one of the best hospitals in the area. Its trauma center was one of the top rated in the state. It was a teaching hospital which meant that area medical students received invaluable experience.

Hutch learned all this while he was being examined and treated in the emergency room. This was very good to know but he hadn't yet been told anything about his partner's condition.

He'd been asking about Starsky since he had awakened in the hospital emergency room. At first, there were too many other things going on for anybody to answer his specific question. They were all too interested in if he was dizzy, when he'd last had a tetanus shot, or if the numbness he'd experience earlier had disappeared. To the last question, Hutch had to admit that his arm felt weak and the fingers still numb.

The knife wound to his shoulder required stitches and muscle repair. While it wasn't a life threatening injury, he would need surgery to fix the damage. His doctor was surprised when Hutch adamantly refused a pain killer until it was time to be sedated for surgery.

As the doctor examined the wound, he'd questioned Hutch about the previous scars that were still visible and essentially in the same area as the recent knife injury.

"I've been shot a few times and knifed once or twice in the same shoulder. I'm beginning to think there's a bull's eye tattooed to that part of my body." Hutch tried to laugh. Instead he winced and took in a ragged breath as the doctor continued exploring the area. The doctor shook his head, dumbfounded by Hutch's self control and tolerance to pain.

For Hutch, it wasn't so much his ability to deal with the pain that he'd refused all pain blockers, but rather, he just needed to stay focused until he had some word on his partner's condition.

"Will you quit poking at my shoulder and just tell me where my partner is?" Hutch tried to swipe at the probing hands in order to get Peggy to pay attention to his more serious current problem.

"Yes sir. I'll go find out his condition. I'll be back shortly." Peggy checked the setting on the IV drip before she left.

Fifteen minutes later, Hutch was tired of waiting and decided to go in search of his friend on his own.

Dressed only in the threadbare hospital gown, he briefly wondered if he really wanted to walk around with not much other than his smile to cover him, but his desire to find Starsky outweighed his physical discomfort.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He waited until the dizziness subsided before he attempted to stand up. He was still connected to an IV of antibiotics so he pushed it in front of him as he made his way down the row of exam cubicles, looking for Starsky.

Fortunately, three rooms later, he found his partner. Hutch was glad he didn't have to go much further. As luck would have it, there was a chair beside Starsky's bed so he gratefully sank into the hard plastic seat and waited until the spots of light quit blinking behind his eyes.

Starsky wore a white turban of gauze and bandages around his head. His face was black and blue and swollen. He also had an IV going into one hand and his blood pressure was being monitored continuously. The steady beep of the heart monitor was reassuring to Hutch but he'd rather hear from Starsky himself as to how he was feeling.

He reached out for Starsky's hand, slightly worried that it was cold. But then again, hospitals were always cold. They had been in enough of them to expect this. Hutch was sure that it was because when you're injured or sick, your system just didn't respond normally plus the fact that for the most part you are immobile, which slows your metabolism. The stress and shock due to injury or worry, all contributed to being cold. As for Starsky, he always grumbled that when you're mostly naked with only a paper sack to wear, of course you're gonna be cold.

Hutch smiled, remembering Starsky's constant grousing about hospitals, wishing to hear just one word from his partner.

As Hutch sat, waiting for Starsky to wake up, a doctor entered the room. He pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and set them on the bridge of his nose. Looking over the top of them at Hutch, he concluded:

"So you must be Ken Hutchinson, the one Peggy's been looking for."

Hutch reached out and accepted the handshake offered by the plump doctor. "I'm Dr. Davidson. It's unusual to have a patient wandering around the emergency room but I see you've found what you were looking for."

Returning the doctor's level gaze, Hutch spoke with authority of his own.

"No one could tell me anything about my partner, so I came for my own answers." Hutch watched as the doctor pulled back Starsky's eye lids and checked them with his pen light.

He grunted with satisfaction then studied the monitor before he spoke again.

'Your friend is doing fine. He should be waking up soon. He's got twenty stitches to his head plus we pulled out several large wood splinters. A mild knife wound to his chest which is of no concern. It's no worse than what you sustained to your neck."

Hutch reached up to the side of his throat, touching the gauze that covered his own experience with a knife.

"However, he's not out of the woods yet. We already did a scan of his head and so far there is no swelling or bleeding within." The doctor made a few notes on Starsky's chart before he continued.

"We'll continue to monitor him closely. If there's a buildup of pressure in his brain, then we'd have to go in surgically to relieve it."

Seeing Hutch's back stiffen at this serious piece of news, Dr. Davidson was quick to put the man at ease and reverted to his sense of humor.

"Of course he's got a whopper of a concussion." Dr. Davidson suppressed a smile at Hutch's raised brow.

"Yes, that's a medical term in case you're wondering. Concussions come in many stages. Either they are tiny, doozies or whoppers." The men shared a laugh which made Hutch feel better. He relaxed against the back of the chair until a sharp pain reminded him of why he was in the hospital in the first place. But a doctor with a sense of humor was always preferred. Hutch knew that Starsky would be more compliant if he could banter with a doctor rather than be given orders by a serious and stuffy medical practitioner.

"Thanks for the information." Hutch smiled slightly as he continued to study his partner's face. Starsky was still pale, but when Hutch reached for his hand, noted that it was warmer than before.

"I'll let Peggy know where you are and that I approved of your remaining but you must promise me something." The doctor waited until he had Hutch's attention.

"See that bed next to you? Get in it and try to relax. I'm sure they'll be coming to take you to surgery soon." Dr. Davidson returned Starsky's chart to the foot of the bed, then walked over to Hutch and helped him into the other bed.