Night Duty

by MysticWhim

The nurse walked in and shook her head.  There he was again.  It was long past visiting hours, yet that determined cop was still here, waiting at that bedside.  Geez, he was stubborn.  Anita was amazed.  She had been a nurse now for 13 years, and had never seen such dedication in a friend.

Stephanie had been fed up with him.  She chased him out last week, insisting he obey the posted visiting ours, but the guy managed to sneak back in.  An hour later, Stephanie found him in the room again, and told him to leave or she was calling security.  He left.  Forty-five minutes later, Anita found him in the room this time, and took pity on the poor guy, warning him of Stephanie's pending return.  He nodded his appreciation and made himself scarce until she finished her rounds.  Then he returned yet again.  Once Stephanie caught him and went to call security.  Anita directed him to a linen closet that she had left unlocked, and he waited there until she peeked in and waved him out.  Stephanie would have her hide, if she only knew.

This battle continued for days, until Stephanie got so fed up with it, she complained to the patient's doctor.  The doctor told her to make an exception with the blond cop, and let him be.  Stephanie was put out, and ended up requesting a switch in assignments, ending up on the East Wing.  That was how Anita ended up on night duty with the two detectives.

She smiled down at the brunet in the bed.  Detective Dave Starsky, now that was a case that was the talk of the hospital.  Everyone involved spoke of the events as if they had personally participated in a miracle.  Maybe they had.  But it wasn't medical science that provided this miracle.  This was true divinity.  Riddled with bullets, and virtually on his last drop of blood when admitted, the guy shouldn't be here right now.  His heart stopped and everything.  But he's here, tenaciously clinging to life, and so is his partner, tenaciously clinging to hope, Detective Hutchinson.  That's the blond fellow that refused to leave. 

Anita ran her checks on Detective Starsky's vitals, administered his meds, and patted his hand.  Her cool cloth soothed his fevered brow.  "You keep fighting," she whispered to her patient.  Circling around the bed, she found Detective Hutchinson curled in a chair that was much too small for him, feet propped on the end of his friend's bed.  Her hand gently squeezed his shoulder.  "Hutch," she whispered softly.

Hutch jumped up in alarm, looking to Anita with panic in his eyes.  "Easy Hutch," she calmed.  "It's just me.  He's fine."  The fear in his face subsided, and he blinked away the sleep.  He ran a hand down his tired face, looking too tired and too pale.  "Here," Anita coaxed, taking his hand.  He was too exhausted to question or to argue.  It wasn't until he realized she was leading him away from the bed that he slowed and became reluctant. "Trust me," she smiled, eyes twinkling.  Too tired to question, he followed.

She led him down and across the hall a few doors.  She held up a hand, indicating he should wait while she went in alone.  A moment later she returned, taking him by the hand and leading him in the room.  The room contained several beds, and lockers at one end.  Hutch glanced around, confused.  "This is where the nurses and doctors can come to grab a few winks," she explained. 

"I can't, Anita," Hutch declined in a voice hoarse from stress and lack of sleep.  "I'll be fine in there.  Really."  He shook his head.  "I don't want to leave..."

Anita raised her hand to silence him.  "No Hutch, I want you to give me a hand."  She walked to a bed, and with her foot pressed a lever by the wheel.  She continued to do this to the other wheels of the bed.  "Prop that door open," she instructed.  "You push and I'll steer."  Hutch took the head of the bed as she led the foot of the bed.  They easily rolled the bed from the employees' room, down the hall to Starsky's room.  It was a tight fit, but they silently steered the second bed to fit in close to Starsky's.  Anita locked the wheels in place, then grabbed Hutch by the arms and pushed him firmly at the bed.  He sat down with a plop and gave her a grateful grin.

"I'm taking over this stakeout," she whispered.  "I'll watch over him.  You get some sleep.  You know he's in good hands with me on the case," she joked.

"Thanks Anita," he whispered.  With a wink, she was gone.

Hutch stretched out on the bed, grateful to feel a real mattress under his aching back.  He reached out his hand and found the hand of his partner.  He squeezed it softly.  Within minutes he was asleep.

A little while later, Anita came in to check on both of her charges.  She smiled to see Hutch stretched out on the bed, his hand still gently holding his friend's.  Grasping his boot, she quickly pulled his foot free, and repeated the gesture with his other foot.  Stashing the boots and removed socks in the corner, she took the blanket that had been draped across the foot of the bed and unfolded it with a practiced shake.  It flew out and gently settled over the sleeping form.  The blond sighed peacefully, but did not awaken.  Nor did his hand leave his friend's.

She checked on her patient, happily noting that his fever was down.  Darkening all unnecessary lights in the room, she slipped out whispering, "Good night, fellas."

The end