Notes: While I like the "Partners" episode, I thought there was something missing, especially Starsky angst. This is my effort to mend that, while still keeping the original episode intact.
A Big Thank You to Sue for checking my medical data and grammar! As usual, her input is invaluable. Any mistakes here on in are mine alone.
by Amye
"All available Units. There is a 211 in progress at Willie's Beverage Store on the corner of Beach and 93rd," came the sound of Mildred's voice from dispatch. Starsky and Hutch were cruising the ocean district looking for a snitch named Winger that had relocated to that area. "Control this is Zebra Three, we are in the area and responding," replied Hutch from the passenger's seat of his partner's cherry red Torino. He reached down for the Mars light and placed it on the roof of the car, while Starsky abruptly pulled the car into an alley, wheels squealing to head the opposite direction. "Another beverage store. You think it's the same perps as the ones we've been tracking?" Hutch asked his partner.
"Dunno, but we won't know 'till we get there."
Beach ran north and south near the ocean front; consequently, it took many turns. Starsky expertly weaved around the cars lined up along the side of the road to let them pass. Unfortunately, there were several drivers who ignored the flashing, shrieking vehicle.
Slamming his open palm on the steering wheel, Starsky swore at the inconsiderate drivers. "Ya know, what if we were an ambulance unit? Someone's life could be lost because of these jerks."
"And you don't have to drive 90 miles an hour on a twisting road," retorted Hutch as he grabbed the dashboard in front of him to balance his tall torso.
"I ain't driving 90, I'm barely doing 65."
"Still Starsk, this is a parkside street, a lot of traffic and hidden roads." The car took another swerve, to avoid a skateboard that had gotten away from some kids and traveled through the intersection. The Torino barely missed a blue Chevy that had stopped in the center of the opposite lane. "Damn it Starsky! Didn't we have this conversation several years ago -- about your reckless driving while in pursuit of a suspect?" Hutch made a grab with his right hand for the seat belt behind him, tugging on it frantically as it hitched in the latch above him.
Just as they approached 90th Street, a black Ford Ranger going west-bound pulled into the intersection of Beach. Starsky didn't see the truck until the last moment and yanked the steering wheel of the Torino to the right then immediately to the left to avoid another vehicle pulled over to the right of them. The red car whipped around the driver's side of the black truck and skidded to the side of the road, slamming into a wooden telephone pole on the right. The effect of the collision smacked Hutch's head hard against the passenger's side window, immediately knocking him unconscious and dropping his head to his chest.
Meanwhile Starsky, not realizing his partner had been knocked out, attempted to bring some control to the Torino. The collision with the telephone pole slowed the Torino down, but didn't stop it. The car turned to the north and the forward motion of speed pushed the vehicle into traffic on 90th, slamming grill first into the back driver's side of a Firebird. With a sound of crushed metal and tearing fiberglass, as well as the hiss of released air from the smashed radiator of the Torino and released gas from the cracked tank of the Firebird, the detective's car finally came to a stop. The siren of the red car ended with a groan, while the Mars light flashed morosely on the scene.
The young teen-aged driver of the Firebird was dazed, but appeared to not be seriously injured. He could not escape the leaking car from the driver's side however. Luckily a witness smelled the gas and opened the unlocked passenger side of the vehicle and pulled the young man out by his shoulders. Once he had laid out the young man to the side of the road, clear of the accident, he went to the red sports car to check on the two victims inside. The driver's door was undamaged so he opened it and moved Starsky's feet clear of the pedals. He then pulled the unconscious driver out of the vehicle and to the sidewalk. A woman who had called in the accident came over to remind the man that he shouldn't move the victims until professional help arrived. "Do you smell that?!" He yelled at her. "It's gas lady! We need to move these guys in case the cars explode!" A father, who with his son, had been standing on the corner waiting to cross Beach, and witnessed the accident went over to the driver of the truck and began chewing him out. The truck driver, an older man about age 60 could only stutter and began making signs with his hands. It was obvious he was deaf.
In the background, sounds of different sirens could be heard coming closer. The crowd was unsure how to release Hutch from the passenger's side of the red car, other than by pulling him out the driver's side. He appeared to be in worse shape than the dark haired man, and since help was seconds away they left him alone.
Once the squad cars, a fire truck and a paramedic unit had arrived, order was slowly restored to the scene. The uniforms began taking statements from the witnesses, and measuring impact and skid marks. One uniform called for an Amerslan translator to get the truck driver's story, while another began to direct traffic around the accident. The fire crew began by hosing down the two vehicles before they could cut into the Torino's passenger's door to remove the victim still left inside. While that all this was happening the two paramedics split their work between the three victims. One went inside the Torino to get vitals of the blonde detective and another worked on the dark haired detective on the sidewalk. After calling in Starsky's vitals to Lincoln Memorial, the second paramedic went to check on the teenager on the other side of the road. He appeared to be fine, other than some bruising to his shoulder when it hit the door at the moment of impact. There was no visible head injury and his vitals were good. He was shaken up of course, but the officers called his parents and assured them that he was okay. The paramedic went back to Starsky and prepared him for transport according to the instructions of the base station.
Meanwhile, efforts were well underway to release Hutch from his metal prison. After removing the door and securing his neck, a fireman gently shifted the long legs so they were hanging out the doorway. The paramedic moved Hutch away from the seatback and laid him on his back. As they scooted the tall man out they immediately put him on a backboard on the ground and secured him.
While both men's vital signs were fairly regular and normal, Hutch's pale blue eyes were unequal, but reactive -- a sign of a concussion. Both men were strapped down on gurneys and taken immediately to Lincoln Memorial, with the paramedics asking the one of the police squads to bring the kid in just in case. Neither detective regained consciousness during transport.
"Hey there, welcome back Detective."
Starsky blinked his eyes open and looked at the hazy white figure leaning over him. After a few seconds the figure transformed into a nurse.
"Huh? Where am I?" He rasped out, tongue thick and dry.
The nurse brought over some ice chips for Starsky to suck on. "You're in the Emergency Room at Lincoln Memorial. You were in a car accident."
"Yeah?" He closed his eyes and reached up with his left hand to tame his pounding head. "How's my car?"
She chuckled. "You'll have to ask the police about that one. But I'm sure you're in better shape than it is." She took the blood pressure cuff off his arm and took his pulse. "Your vitals have been steady for an hour now, so we'll be moving you upstairs soon. The doctor wants to keep you overnight, so I'm sure he'll be in to talk with you once you get settled upstairs."
Starsky began drifting off again. Just before he did, he whispered "Hutch?"
The next time Starsky regained consciousness he was being wheeled on a gurney off the elevator to a minimal care floor. The jostling of the attendants moving him to his private bed awakened him further. A nurse was waiting to take his blood pressure and pulse again and help him get settled in the bed. "Hi," she said smiling at him. "My name's Nancy and I'll be your nurse this evening. If you need anything, just press this button." And she placed the call unit beside his arm.
He grabbed her arm as she tucked the blanket around him. "Is there anybody here? Ya know -- to see me?"
"I don't know. Visiting hours are almost over. Were you expecting family?"
"No, just my partner. But, maybe he doesn't know about the accident." Starsky shook his head; he was missing something. "No, dispatch would've called him."
"Maybe he's with the doctor," she replied to calm him down. "Once the doctor okay's it, I'll give you some Demerol for your soreness and to help you sleep." With that she left the room.
Starsky lay quietly for a half an hour trying to remember the events of that day and the accident itself. Eventually a tall, robust grey-haired man in a short white lab coat came in his room.
"Hello. I'm Doctor Laitly. I'm the ward physician. How are you feeling?" The doctor shook his hand before checking Starsky's pulse and looking at the chart at the end of the bed.
Starsky looked up at the kindly older man with the sociable bedside manner. "I'm not sure. I hurt. 'Specially my head and my mouth."
"I'm sure they do. You have a slight concussion, some bruising to your face, and your upper lip was cut. We had to place two stitches in it."
Starsky felt his face. The lip was puffy and numb, that's why he hadn't felt the tape or discomfort of the stitches before this.
Dr. Laitly continued. "We're going to keep you overnight for observation. What do you remember about the accident?"
Dark blue eyes shut briefly, then squinted open in confusion. "Uh, nothing?"
"That's to be expected. Sometimes a concussion will play havoc with memories. Let me try to fill you in with what I know." He sat at the edge of the bed. "Apparently you and your partner were responding to a crime scene and heavy traffic got in the way. You smashed into a telephone pole and then rebounded into another car. You hit your head against the steering wheel, which caused the concussion and the cut lip." Blue eyes twinkled at him. "You should really know better than to not wear a seat belt."
Starsky still didn't remember the accident, but he did remember his partner. "Hutch? What about Hutch? He okay?"
"That would be your partner?"
"Yeah. Tall, blonde, mustache. Did they bring him here?"
"Let me check with the Emergency Room. What's his full name?"
"Ken Hutchinson, same age, he's a detective too."
"Okay. I'll be right back. In the meantime, how about if I have Nancy bring in your meds so you can rest?"
Despite the pain it caused, Starsky shook his head. "No, I have to know what happened to Hutch first. Please?"
Nodding, Dr. Laitly left the room.
Starsky laid in his bed, his heart hurting more than his head or face. Since Dr. Laitly was the ward doctor and he didn't recognize Hutch's name, obviously Hutch wasn't on this floor. Which led to the fact that either his partner was okay or he was elsewhere -- maybe in worse shape than Starsky himself. "I did it again," he whispered to the empty room. "I'm never gonna learn. 37 years old and you'd think by now I'd know how to drive a car safely. Please God, let Hutch be okay."
He tried to block thoughts of his partner and best friend from his mind, but soon Dr. Laitly returned -- hopefully with some information on Hutch. Starsky looked expectantly at the doctor as he approached his bed. "Hutch?"
Dr. Laitly smiled down at the frightened countenance of the curly-haired man in the bed. "Your partner is here. He's on the fourth floor in the managed care wing. He needs a little more looking after than you."
"How bad?"
"Well I'm not supposed to divulge any patient's condition without their approval, but your Captain Dobey had left an authorization to talk with you, since the two of you are listed as next of kin in each other's records. According to the Emergency Room doctor that treated him -- he has a serious concussion. It appears he hit the right side of his head on the passenger's window and then he hit his forehead against the dashboard judging by the contusion there. Also his right-hand is broken and he has whiplash."
"What else?" Starsky asked, sensing that there was something the doctor wasn't telling him.
Reluctantly Dr. Laitly told Starsky the rest. "Well, due to the double blow to his head, there is some concern about Detective Hutchinson's brain swelling. But it's not known right now if it's caused by fluid build-up or a contusion to the brain itself. Which is why he's in the managed care wing where they can monitor him."
The dark blue eyes closed in pain.
Dr. Laitly saw the grimace and misread it. "Let me get the nurse to give you some Demerol now so you can rest easier."
Pain filled eyes flew open. "No, not yet. I wanna see him." He struggled to sit up.
Heavy hands held the detective down. "Not tonight. You need your rest. The nurses will be in every two hours to wake you. And I'm sure your partner won't be very good company. I'll be leaving shortly, but I'll be back tomorrow after breakfast to check on you. If everything looks good, I'll discharge you and have one of the volunteers take you to your partner's room. I'll see you tomorrow. Good Night." With that the doctor left the room. Starsky gave the nurse no problems taking his medicine, as he would rather be knocked out than lie in the bed thinking about his partner several floors down.
Before the painkiller could take affect, Starsky had another visitor: Captain Dobey.
The large man walked into the private room that held his senior detective. In his hands was a small box of chocolates that he had picked up in the gift shop downstairs. Both the Captain and this particular detective shared a sweet tooth. "I thought with being laid up for awhile, you might need some fortification." He said as he set the box on the tray table at the end of the bed.
"I don't feel like eatin'. Tired, sore, my fault." Starsky's voice began to get a little drowsy.
"You can save them for later," answered the disappointed man. He was hoping for a little sample himself. "I just wanted to stop in briefly to see that you were okay. I'll stop by tomorrow. We need to get your statement on the accident as soon as possible."
"No. Gotta take care'a Hutch. You seen Hutch? They won't let me see him." Starsky tried to fight to tiredness and soreness of his body, but gave in and let his eyes rest a bit.
"Yes. Don't worry about Hutch. He'll be fine."
A slight grin relaxed Starsky's face. "Yeah, the Blintz has a head of steel."
Captain Dobey stayed with his detective for several more minutes until the sound of even breathing indicated his man was asleep. "I don't know what it is about you two. If it isn't some nutcase shooting you up with drugs or bullets, then it's one or both getting in trouble on your own," he whispered to the sleeping man. "I'll see you tomorrow Starsky." He patted the paler hand as he left the room.
Several times during the night Starsky was awakened by Nancy and then by her night replacement. He never managed to stay awake long, just enough to answer a few questions and for them to get his pulse and blood pressure. By the fifth cycle, around 6:00 am, he was feeling very irritable at not being allowed to get enough deep sleep. "Leave m'alone." He mumbled to the nurse as she came in yet again to check on the concussed man. "Wan' sleep."
"Now Detective Starsky, you know the routine. We need to wake you up every two hours to make sure the concussion isn't more severe. Tell me what you do again?"
"Cop." The sleepy man answered for the fifth time in 24 hours.
"And what day is it?" She recited as she took his blood pressure.
"Dunno, Wednesday maybe. May 24th"
"Good." She lifted his heavy lids to check his pupils. "What's the name of your Captain?"
"Dobey. Cap'n Dobey. He was here. He gone?" He squinted one eye open and looked around, more alert now.
"If he was here, it was yesterday evening. No one's been here since I've been on duty. Visiting hours don't begin for a few hours yet. Now, how about we get you up to try to use the restroom?" She lowered the bars on the side of the bed and lifted the blanket from her patient.
Slowly sitting up and getting off the bed with the help of the nurse, Starsky made his way to the private bathroom inside his room. At first standing up made him a little light-headed, but taking his time he finally accomplished his physical needs. Being upright made his head pound a little more and he really noticed the pain in and around his mouth. The nurse, Susan, told him she'd come right back with some more painkiller to help him sleep more. "There's no need to keep waking you up every two hours. However, breakfast will be served around 8:30, so we'll wake you up then. Okay?" She said patting down the blankets on the bed around him.
"Good Morning sir! Ready for breakfast?" Chimed a bright, cheery voice. Too cheery for this early in the morning, thought the now awake Starsky. The dietician's aide pulled the tray table with the water pitcher and box of chocolates over Starsky's bed. "Now, let's put these aside. Not a very good breakfast item," she said moving the box of chocolates to the nightstand next to the bed. She wound up the head of the bed so that he was sitting upright. "An orderly will be by in an hour or so to remove the empty dishes. Have a nice day!" And she left the room. Personally, Starsky would've rather had the chocolates for breakfast than some disgusting hospital food. He lifted the lids off the plates to find a box of dry Frosted Flakes, a pint of milk, a pint of grapefruit juice, an apple, two slices of cold white toast with a sliver of hard, iced butter, and one small package of grape jelly. "This is breakfast?" He muttered turning his nose up. "At least I got some sweetened cereal." He opened the cereal box to pour the milk inside the plastic wrapper. Unfortunately, the inner wrapper ripped and pieces of sugary flakes fell around him like hard snowflakes. "Damn cereal boxes." He tilted the torn box up to his mouth and emptied the rest of the dry cereal. Then he washed it down with some milk.
After finishing the milk, he looked at the grapefruit juice and grimaced. "Where's my damn coffee?" He picked up the hand unit and asked for the nurse. "I need some coffee, and three packets of sugar."
"Sorry Detective. No coffee for you just yet. Not until the doctor gives you clearance. Caffeine isn't good with your head injury. I can get you some herbal tea if you'd like?"
Starsky's mouth dropped open. "No coffee?" He squeaked. He couldn't begin his day without coffee. Shaking his head negatively at the nurse, he laid back on the pillow with his arm over his head. The painkiller was beginning to take affect again, and he drifted along between the waking world and the dark of sleep. An orderly came in to remove his breakfast tray, while Starsky rested before Dobey came in to get his statement. It barely registered in his mind that anyone had entered. Just behind the orderly was Dr. Laitly.
"Well, Detective Starsky, how are you feeling this morning? Any better?"
"Um, I guess. Can I get outta here soon?"
"Well everything looks fine. Your vitals were stable all night and you've answered all the questions correctly. If you'd like, you can stay here and rest for a few hours. Or you can go home, or I can have someone take you to see your partner if you're feeling up to it. However, you're not to be driving today. You'll need someone to take you home."
"HUTCH!" He had almost forgotten that Hutch was in worse shape than he. "Dobey. Our Captain's coming up around 9:00. He'll take me to see Hutch. What time is it?" Starsky made a grab for the doctor's wrist.
"It's just about 9. He can come in while the nurse gives you your discharge instructions. I'll have a prescription of painkillers brought up to you. Only take them as needed, otherwise take Tylenol or Aspirin. If you start getting sick or seeing double, I want you back here immediately."
"I'll make sure the dark one behaves doc," came a thin voice from the doorway. Huggy had stopped by to visit his friends. "Hey mi amigo. What did I tell you 'bout hittin' them brick walls?" Said Huggy before he could stop the words from falling from his mouth.
Starsky's face went pale. "I hit a wall?" He closed his eyes tightly. "I'm sorry Hutch. God I'm so sorry," he choked out.
"Aw man. I'm sorry. This bear should know not to spit out them kinda words."
The doctor gave Starsky a stern warning look before taking his leave. "The nurse will be in shortly Detective. Take care and wear a seatbelt."
While waiting for the nurse, Huggy attempted to make up for his blunder. "You didn't hit no wall Starsk and the accident weren't your fault. From what yea ole Captain has tol' me, some older dude in a truck that thought he could make like a ghost and go through the Tomato. You tried to avoid the dude and that car of yours had other ideas." He sat down in the chair next to Starsky's bed. "And no one go hurt, well, 'cept maybe that vegetable of yours."
Anguished dark blue eyes met with compassionate brown ones. "No one got hurt? Wanna run that by me again? Do you remember the last time Hutch and I were in a car accident?"
Huggy had the grace to look chastened. "Well, Hutchie's got some broke fingers and stuff. But you know Captain America. He can bounce off anything and pick himself up fine. Heck, look at the last time. Game he was playing with everyone just to make us feel bad for him."
"No Hug, he did that the last time to teach me a lesson. And I didn't learn it apparently."
"Stop beatin' yourself up over this. Dobey woke me up to come get you since he couldn't come by 'till later. So are ya gonna cry in your water pitcher or are ya gonna go up to and see how Blondie's doin'? He's probably gonna be stuck here another day or two and he'll need ya to keep his spirits up. You know he hates these white walls."
"He probably wants nothing to do with me. After what I put him through again."
Just then the nurse came in with Starsky's discharge instructions. Huggy stepped back out of the way so she could talk with the detective. But he made sure he listened closely so he could keep watch on the dark-haired man and tell Dobey everything the nurse said to make sure Starsky didn't push himself back to work too soon. As soon as the nurse left Starsky threw back the covers and started to get out of bed. "Let's go. I have to see Hutch."
"Thought he wanted nothin' to do with you," smirked Huggy.
"I don't care, I need to face him, to apologize, even though it won't be enough." Starsky ducked into the bathroom to change into the clothes he had on yesterday. "Do you know what room he's in?" He shouted through the closed door to Huggy.
"Yeah, 424."
Starsky obeyed the nurse's instructions and Huggy pushed him down to Hutch's room in a wheelchair. He explained to the nurses on duty that he was Ken Hutchinson's partner and showed them his discharge papers so he could go in. Hutch's nurse, Samantha, agreed, but only for a short time as the patient had not regained consciousness on his own. Samantha also explained that Hutch would be going down for a procedure soon.
The two men went into Hutch's room. They looked over their blonde friend without saying a word to each other. Huggy locked the wheels on the wheelchair and brought over the large orange lounge chair next to Hutch's bed so Starsky could sit in relative comfort.
Once Starsky was settled in the more comfortable chair, Huggy stepped outside to talk to Hutch's nurse. "What is this procedure my blonde brother needs?"
"I'm sorry Mr., uh..."
"Bear" Huggy provided.
"I'm sorry, but I can't divulge any information regarding Detective Hutchinson without the patient's or his immediate family's permission."
"Listen -- that man I just wheeled in there is the best friend and only close family Hutch has."
But Samantha would not be swayed. She knew her job and the rights of her patients well.
"What about his Captain? Can you tell him?"
"I can't. But I believe the doctor has already talked to him and can provide more information."
Huggy nodded, having to be content with that for now. "Cap'n Dobey should be here soon. I'll get you when he arrives so you can bring the doc."
Meanwhile, Starsky took in his partner's condition.
The normally pale face was pink, except for some bruising on the right. Hutch's entire head was bandaged, with none of his bright blonde hair peaking out from underneath the wrappings. A soft collar neck brace covered Hutch from chin to chest. His right hand and arm were casted up to his mid-arm. An IV ran into the inner left elbow. There was a blood pressure cuff on his upper left arm attached to a machine on the wall behind his bed. A clip on his finger monitored his heartbeat. To top it all off, a nasal cannula was in place to help Hutch breathe easier. Huggy walked back in and watched the machines for a few minutes. "You ready Starsky?" He asked his other friend quietly.
"Yeah." Starsky paused for a moment and looked up at his colorful friend. "He doesn't look too bad Hug. His color's good and he's breathing evenly. The bruises on his face aren't half as bad as last time." Huggy knew that Starsky was referring to the accident the two men had had a couple of years before.
"The, uh, dragon nurse out there won't tell us nothin' about Hutchie here. Claims we're not family. But she said the doc will talk to Dobey. Hopefully Dobey's gonna be here soon."
"It's okay. Hutch's gonna be okay Hug. Now I hope he can forgive me."
Huggy sighed. He knew there was nothing he could say to convince the dark-haired detective that Hutch would forgive him until Hutch said it himself.
"S'okay." Came a strangled voice from the bed.
Starsky put his hand on Hutch's cast, even though the blonde couldn't feel the touch through the plaster. "Hutch?" He asked hopefully. The eyes on the figure on the bed hadn't opened and if Huggy hadn't heard it too, Starsky would've thought he was imagining things.
"Hutch? You awake?" He asked again.
"F'gif." This time both visitors were sure their friend had awakened. "Nah yur faul." A full sentence, even if slurred. That was good in Starsky's opinion.
Finally the light blue eyes struggled open. They were unfocused and full of pain. But they were open and to Starsky, it was a beautiful sight.
"How're you feeling my blonde amigo?" Huggy kept his voice soft and low.
"Hurrs."
Starsky went to press the call button for the nurse. "You want me to get your nurse to bring you something?"
Hutch couldn't move his head to indicate yes or no. It hurt too much so he closed his eyes and just said no.
"Where do you hurt Hutch?" Asked Huggy again.
"Auhm, head, everwher". The eyes didn't open and it became apparent that Hutch was falling back asleep.
"Probably the best thing for him." Consoled Huggy to the dark-haired man. He knew what was bothering Starsky. "You can always apologize the next time. I'm sure he'll be awake longer then."
Starsky ran his hand over his face to clear the tension from it.
"I'm gonna stay here until Cap'n Dobey comes and we can talk to the doc. Then I gotta get home and get some sleep before opening later. You want some coffee while we're waiting?" Huggy asked Starsky.
"Huh?" Starsky turned toward Hug when he realized the thin black man was talking to him.
"Coffee Starsky, thick black liquid that you get off on. You want some?"
"Nah, didn't you hear the nurse say I can't have any for 24 hours? Can you get me some water though?"
"Sure buddy." He patted the dark-haired man's shoulder before leaving the room.
Huggy was back within 15 minutes with a pitcher of cold water and a plastic cup for Starsky and a cup of fresh hot cafeteria coffee for himself.
The two men sat and reminisced quietly about the last time the three had gotten together for fun rather than work. Starsky laughed as Huggy reminded him how he had bet the two detectives their bar bill, which was rather large, by playing them a game of pool. Huggy was something of a pool shark, the dark and light friends knew it, but they couldn't resist playing their colorful friend in the hopes of someday beating him.
Twenty minutes later Captain Dobey finally arrived and heard the quiet laughter in Hutch's room. He immediately identified the voices as his senior detective and their informant/friend. Sighing with relief that at least one was well on his way to recovery, Dobey pushed the wooden door open and entered Hutch's room.
"Hey Cap'n glad you're finally present," said Huggy standing up from the hard plastic chair he had appropriated from the nurse's station. "That dragon in white out there says she won't give us no tips on how Hutchie's doin'. Says the doc can only talk to the big man hisself -- that bein' you. Now they want to perform some procedure on Blondie here and won't say nuthin' 'bout it."
"Procedure. What kind of procedure?"
"Don't know. I told the nurse I'd get you so she can relay the doc down here to talk to us." Huggy left the room to make sure the nurse kept her promise.
"How're you doing Starsky? They release you?" Dobey addressed the concerned man who still looked a little pale to him.
Dark curls nodded toward the hospital bed. "Better than him."
"What did the doctor say? Any restrictions?"
Without taking his eyes off the figure in the bed, Starsky recited the directions of the doctor to take it easy, no caffeine for 24 hours, painkillers as needed, and complete rest for two days. He could go back to work after following up with his personal physician. Probably for desk duty for a week. But at least that would give him time to clear the back-log of reports and paperwork.
Huggy arrived back with the ward doctor and Samantha. The doctor was young, but wise in his dark eyes. "Hello I'm Doctor Brazen." He offered his hand to the seated man. "I understand you were just released from here. Same accident?"
"Yes. I'm Hutch's partner. This is Captain Dobey, our superior officer."
"Yes, we met yesterday afternoon. As I explained to your Captain yesterday, because Detective Hutchinson hasn't been alert enough to understand what was happening, we had to release information to his next of kin. He had you, Detective Starsky, listed as next of kin, but since you were unavailable the next person would be Captain Dobey."
Huggy broke in. "Nurse Samantha mentioned some kind of procedure you wanted to render on Hutch?"
"Well, it's time to wake him up for his check, so let's see how alert he is first."
"He was awake about half an hour ago," replied Starsky.
"How'd he seem?"
"His speech was slurred, and he was only awake for a minute or two. But he knew who we were. That's a good sign, right?"
"I would say so, yes. But I still want to try to wake him again. Samantha?"
The honey colored nurse went to the other side of the bed where there was less obstruction. She pulled out a capsule and ran it under the cannula in Hutch's nose. The nose twitched and there was a small sneeze, then a moan erupted from the pale pink lips.
The doctor asked Starsky to move his chair. He then leaned over the bed. "Detective Hutchinson, can you open your eyes for me?"
"Seep," muttered the prone figure.
"Yes, I know you want to sleep. We'll let you sleep shortly. But we need to ask you a few questions first."
"N'more."
"Come Hutch. Be a good boy and do like the doc says. Open them baby blues," encouraged Huggy.
Only after the doctor stimulated the pain reflexes in his feet did Hutch open his eyes.
"Detective Hutchinson, do you remember what happened yesterday?"
"Yes'day? Ask... Akk.." Hutch struggled to say 'accident'. "Akkden."
"Yes, you were involved in a car accident."
"Do you remember who was with you?"
"Sark..." He mumbled, looking at Starsky.
"Why is he having trouble speaking?" Whispered Starsky to the doctor, who quieted him with his finger.
"How does your head feel Detective?" Continued the doctor with the questions.
"Hurss." Hutch closed his eyes again.
"Detective, stay with me." Doctor Brazen nodded toward Samantha and she once again stimulated more pain reflexes to get the blonde to open his eyes. "We need to talk about why your head hurts. You had a serious injury. That's why the nurses keep waking you up. Remember?"
"Yesss."
"Good." The doctor noted the blank look in his eyes and nodded toward Samantha. She wrote something on the chart.
"Not Sark faut." The blue eyes closed again and refused to open.
The doctor looked a little confused at Hutch's sentence.
"It sounded like he was saying it wasn't Starsky's fault. The accident," explained Dobey.
Dr. Brazen took the chart from Samantha and looked over the entries she just made and compared it to prior ones. "I don't think we're going to get much more out of him right now. Why don't we go down to my office and talk."
The doctor opened his office door and allowed the three men to enter first, closing it behind him. He took a seat behind the broad oak desk, while Dobey and Starsky took the chairs across from it and Huggy sat on the couch along the wall.
"As I explained to Captain Dobey yesterday, Detective Hutchinson has several smaller broken bones in his right hand. They should heal within a few weeks. With a little therapy to bring the strength back to that hand, it should be fine. He has some whiplash, which is to be expected; as you saw we braced his neck to keep it from moving around too much. The most serious items he has to deal with are a severe concussion along with a subdural hematoma."
All three men before him were unfamiliar with the term.
The doctor recited: "When a patient arrives in the Emergency Room, unconscious and with an obvious head injury, we automatically present a Glasgow Coma Score. Detective Hutchinson's was 11, which indicates a moderate brain injury, most likely due to the concussion. However, in monitoring his condition over the past 20 hours, his scores have dropped to 8. When a person receives a severe blow to the head, the brain bouncing around in the dural cavity can cause tearing of blood vessels. The accumulating blood in the space leaves no extra room for the brain to swell and the blood to accumulate. The only way the brain can compensate is to shift the delicate structures. Severe headache, dizziness, unequal pupils, decreased level of consciousness, confusion, inability to awaken are all outward signs of a subdural hematoma and warrant further tests. Earlier this morning he was taken for a CT scan which pointed out the problem."
"His brain?" Squeaked out Starsky, who had slunk further down in the chair with each word the doctor said.
"It's very treatable Mr. Starsky. Normally we'd wait to see if the hematoma would reduce on it's own, but because his GCS has dropped into the dangerous level within 24 hours, there's a high risk of permanent damage if we don't operate now." The doctor gently explained the surgery in lay-mans terms, trying not to upset the injured best friend of his patient. "The surgery should take no more than an hour and a half."
"Is the surgery dangerous?" Asked Starsky.
"Well, any invasive procedure has its drawbacks. But this is a common procedure and this hospital has performed several hundred. The most serious complications that can arise are infection and brain swelling if the surgical site is open too long. But these are rare. We have a very good neurological team. Of course, once we get in there, there is the possibility that something else could appear that we didn't see on the x-rays or CAT scan, but it's highly unlikely. And in that case we would take the proper steps to correct any problems at that time, so that another surgery is unlikely."
The doctor pulled a brochure from his drawer. He handed it directly to Starsky. "This is some literature on a subdural hematoma. The first section is a brief explanation of what it is, what we'll do, how we'll go in. The next section explains complications that may arise, and the last one covers recovery points." The dark-haired man stared at it, not really reading.
Huggy verbally shook him. "Starsk. My man?"
Dobey took the brochure from Starsky's hand and read it aloud for his detective. "When will you operate?"
"With an acute subdural hematoma as large as Detective Hutchinson's, it's imperative to operate as soon as possible. We've already called in a neurosurgeon. All that's needed is to get the operating room ready, and prep Detective Hutchinson. It shouldn't be too long. You can wait in the surgical waiting room." The doctor picked up the phone and began making arrangements as the three men left his office.
As the three settled down to wait in the second floor surgical waiting area, Huggy hesitated, not entering in the room. "I hate to do this to ya, but I haven't slept in, like, 20 hours. I need to get a move on if I don't wanna lose business by keepin' the place shut down just so I can catch some z's."
"Sure Huggy, go ahead. I'll keep watch here. We won't leave Hutch alone when he comes back from surgery." Huggy nodded at Dobey and backed out the door. Dobey then turned to the curly-headed part of his dynamic duo. "How're you doing Starsky?
"I'm okay. I just needed to blow off some steam and do some thinking."
"Oh boy. That phrase coming from you always worries me," Said Dobey, trying to lighten the atmosphere, then he grew serious. "Are you okay?"
"More so than Hutch. I'm not goin' nowhere Cap'n. I'm gonna be here for Hutch, for whatever he needs. After that..." he shrugs his shoulders, "it's up to Hutch. He probably won't want me around no more."
"That's bull and you know it Starsky! I've known you two for how many years -- eight, nine? And never have either one of you held a grudge against the other. Not the first time you got into an accident, not over Kira -- nothing!"
Starsky plopped himself down into the soft lounge chair that Dobey had vacated for him. "After that first accident, I promised Hutch I'd be more careful during pursuits. Fat lot a good that promise was."
"Starsky, this was an accident. Do you hear me? An a-c-c-i-d-e-n-t. At this point, I don't know if any charges will even be filed, unless we can get some of the drivers that didn't pull over while you were in pursuit." Dobey ran his thick fingers through his coarse dark hair.
Starsky looked up at the man. "What do you mean no charges were filed? What about the old man in the truck?"
"Turns out he's deaf. Couldn't hear the siren. And the sun glare wiped out any view of the flashing Mars light."
"Deaf? They let a deaf man drive?!" Starsky was dumbfounded. He really didn't know the ADA laws, but it seemed to him that anyone who couldn't hear emergency vehicles and traffic, pedestrian or otherwise, shouldn't be allowed a license.
"The man has a perfect driving record. Not one traffic violation in over 30 years. This was a freak combination of the sun glare and the position of the cars. If you didn't have to pull around some of the other vehicles, it's possible you might've missed him altogether." Dobey shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? But you can't go beating yourself up over something which you had no control."
Starsky scrunched up his face. "I'm not beating myself up," he grumbled.
"Yes, you are. I know you, and I know you're feeling guilty. Go look at your face in the bathroom mirror. Do you think Hutch'll want see that face when he wakes up?"
The two men sat quietly for a moment and then Starsky hesitatingly asked "Do you think he'll be really be okay?"
"I'm sure of it. You of all people should know how hard a head Hutch has." Dobey sighed. "I need to call Edith and the station. Can you excuse me a minute?" He asked as he squirmed his way between Starsky and the couch to get to the desk phone. Starsky took a bathroom break so that Dobey could talk to his wife privately. When he came back, Dobey was dialing the station to call Minnie for any news from the precinct and to give her an update on Hutch. "Well, there's nothing big going down at the station, so it's okay for me to stay here for awhile. Let's go get something to drink while we wait. I could sure use some coffee."
"I can't have coffee, you know what the doctor said," grumbled Starsky. A cup of coffee to him was ambrosia -- as long as it had three scoops of sugar in it. Missing it for a few days was going to play havoc on his system.
Dobey put his hand on Starsky's shoulder. "I know, but I thought getting out of this room would do you some good. It's only been an hour. It could be a little longer yet."
Starsky waved his hand. "Nah, you go though. Maybe you could get me a candy bar?"
"Starsky what happened to the box of candy I gave you yesterday?"
"Uh, I dunno. I must've shared it with Huggy for breakfast." He looked sheepish.
"You shouldn't be having chocolate either. It's got caffeine it."
"Come on Cap'n. Just a small one? Please?" Starsky's dark blue eyes grew large and puppy-like; he knew how to play on his Captain's emotions when it came to junk food. Once Dobey was gone, Starsky closed his eyes just for a minute or two he told himself. His head was pounding. Before he realized it, he was out like a light, snoring softly.
When Dobey came back five minutes later and saw his detective sleeping on the couch, he decided not to disturb him. He would wake Starsky up after Hutch's surgery was over, and not before.
Twenty minutes later, the nurse came in to tell them that the doctors would be up shortly, that the surgery went well. Dobey wanted to make sure Starsky, who had fallen asleep, was fully awake when the doctor arrived. He saw the dark curled head was drooped down on its owner's chest. His neck's gonna have one heck of a cramp. "Starsky." He gently shook the detective's shoulder, not wanting to jostle him too much. "Starsky. Dave. Wake up."
"Huh? What?" Dazed and clouded blue eyes met deep brown ones. "Cap'n what is it? Hutch?"
"He's out. The doctors are on their way to talk to us."
Starsky was almost afraid to ask. "Did they tell you how it went? Is Hutch... okay?"
"The nurse said that he came through fine."
The two men waited for Dr. Brazen and Dr. Poulos, the neurosurgeon who actually performed the procedure. The large black man could tell his friend was not feeling well, physically or mentally.
Dr. Brazen introduced the neurosurgeon and let him take the floor. "First let me assure you that everything went very well and Detective Hutchinson is resting in recovery. I stopped to see him just before coming up here and the nurses tell me that he opened his eyes briefly. He'll stay in recovery for another half an hour or so, or until he makes purposeful movements. Then we'll be moving him to the ICU." He paused before continuing. "His vitals are good. But he'll need to remain on a respirator until we can wean him off it."
"How long will that be?" Asked Dobey.
"Probably 24 hours"
Starsky couldn't ask the doctors any questions, so Dobey handled the conversation. "What's his recovery timeline look like?"
Dr. Brazen answered this one. "We'll keep him in the hospital several more days. Before releasing him, we'll assess any therapy needs and go from there."
Dobey put his hand on Starsky's shoulder. "It will be awhile before Hutch comes back. Why don't you let me buy you something to eat in the cafeteria? Then you can come back up and see him."
Starsky nodded his head and the four men left the waiting room together. "Please call me with any questions or concerns." Dr. Poulos handed his card to Starsky.
After a light lunch of a sandwich and pudding, Dobey told Starsky that he was headed back to the precinct for the rest of the day. He told his detective he had already asked Edith to pick Starsky up when he wanted to go home. Merle had made arrangements to have a rental car available for Starsky until he decided what he wanted to do about the Torino. Merle wasn't sure it was worth repairing, but the final decision was up to Starsky and the insurance company.
Starsky eventually made his way back up to Hutch's ICU room on the third floor and peeked in. His partner appeared to be resting comfortably. The bandages on his head were thicker and covered his entire head. The same paraphernalia as before was still attached to Hutch. This time the blonde looked much more relaxed. His face wasn't as pinched; the crease in between his eyebrows wasn't as deep; and his color was back to its regular pale fairness, rather than the dusty pink of earlier.
The nurse came back in to take more vitals and give Hutch his first set of medicines. Asking what she was giving him, the nurse replied prednisone to control the brain's swelling and phenytoin to prevent convulsions. Paling and gulping quietly at the blunt terms the nurse used, Starsky asked her to bring him some aspirin for his headache, which was getting worse every time he thought of what Hutch was going through. Maybe he could rest a bit before Hutch woke up. Before he realized it, Starsky was sleeping uncomfortably in an upright position next to his partner's bed.
After waking their blonde patient two hours after arriving in the ICU and assessing his mental condition by his eye and motor response, they contacted his doctor to remove the respirator. Starsky felt this was a step in the right direction, especially so soon after the surgery. His guilty feelings reared again as Hutch fell immediately asleep without saying anything to his partner or showing recognition in his eyes.
A slight groan from the bed woke Starsky several hours later. The sound was soft, but Starsky's mind was not completely shut down and any movement or sound from his partner would've woken him up. His body had slunk down in the chair and his left hand was numb from where his cheek and head were resting on it. But he ignored the discomfort in his back and neck as he watched his partner come around.
Starsky's hand grabbed Hutch's right arm, the one that didn't have any I.V.s or other paraphernalia. "Hutch? Buddy? Wake up now. Come on, open them baby blues."
Dulled light blue eyes peeked out from behind pale lashes. The eyes closed again once they had acknowledged the presence of the darker detective.
"It's me. How're you feeling?"
"Hurs."
Starsky snorted and grinned. "I'm sure it does. You had surgery on your head babe. Guess it's not as hard as we thought." The grin faded and the voice dropped to a mere whisper. "I'm sorry."
One blue eye opened. "Sorry?"
"For puttin' you here." Starsky dropped his head. Even though Hutch probably wasn't 'with it' yet, Starsky needed to ask for forgiveness.
"You 'kay?"
The curly head lifted up to meet the fully opened eyes of his partner. "Me? Yeah. Just got a knock on the head. They already released me. The Torino, though, has seen better days."
A chuckle came from the figure on the bed, and Hutch immediately groaned. "Ohhh. Hurts."
"Oh God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Remorse filled Starsky again.
Hutch loosely waved his right arm, disengaging it from Starsky's hand. "It... was... acc'dent." The arm dropped, along with the eyelids. The conversation was taking much of the blonde's meager strength.
Starsky reached up to smooth Hutch's forehead. There was no hair to smooth back as it was wrapped underneath the bandages, but it was a common gesture for each other, and Starsky couldn't help himself. "Relax buddy. If you want to sleep, go ahead. I'll be here. I'm not leaving you."
"At least not until you want me to." Starsky said to himself as he watched his partner's breathing even out as he fell asleep once more. Dammit, all I do is to keep hurtin' him, even when it's the last thing I wanna do. He ran his left hand through a mass of curls, briefly touching the bandage on his forehead. Then Starsky got up to let the nurses know that Hutch had woken up briefly and was able to speak without too much effort. Though he was worried that the blonde wasn't able to stay awake for more than five minutes. They assured him that was normal for the first 12 hours after the type of surgery that Hutch'd had.
The next time Hutch woke, it was evening and Minnie had stopped by. She wanted to see how the duo was doing and offered her favorite detective a ride home. Starsky declined saying he wanted to wait until Hutch woke up once more. "Besides, Captain Dobey and Edith are going to stop by later and they can give me a lift."
"Hey Min." Neither Starsky nor Minnie had noticed that Hutch had awakened.
"Hutchinson, my favorite blonde detective. How are you?"
He grinned a little, which heartened Starsky. "Better."
"I don't want to deplete your strength, and I know you want to spend some time with Curly here, so I'll go now." She leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "You take care now, okay? I'll stop by in a few days, once you're feeling up to visitors."
Then she turned to Starsky and gave him a kiss also. "You take care of yourself, you hear? I know you Starsky. You'll run yourself into the ground taking care of Blondie here." She stood up and adjusted her thick glasses.
Starsky glared as the dark haired policewoman strode through the doorway, keeping the curtain open behind her.
Hutch's evening nurse noticed the open curtain. Assuming that her patient was awake she popped in and introduced herself as Anne. She asked the prone man if he'd like to try to eat something. "It's not too late to have the kitchen whip you up something soft and loose."
Starsky shook his head. "Nuh, uh. My partner's not eating that crap. How 'bout some Jell-O? Ya got any of that?"
Anne grinned, taking away the stress lines from her 50 odd year old face. "Sure we got Jell-O. We have a small refrigerator on each ward for juice, Jell-O, and the like. What kind would you like?"
"Not hungry."
Anne walked over to the bed to smooth the blankets around her patient. "Now Detective Hutchinson, the sooner we can get some fluids into you by mouth, the sooner we can remove that nasty needle from your arm." She reached into her pocket for a pen light, turned it on, and raised it above Hutch's eyes. "Let me get some vitals real quick and then I'll be back with your Jell-O."
"Get him some orange. He likes orange. Or grape if you got that." Starsky told Anne.
Starsky and Hutch were left alone for the first time since the accident. Starsky was afraid to look at his friend. He didn't want to see the reproach in Hutch's eyes. Hutch just looked at the bent curly head, wondering what was going on in the mind beneath the curls. "Starsk? You okay?"
"Oh God Hutch I'm so sorry," Starsky repeated the plea he made earlier.
"For what?"
Dark blue eyes raised in disbelief. "For puttin' you here. For not listening to you last time. I promise I'll take driving lessons if you'll just forgive me."
Hutch sank into the fluffy pillows beneath him. "Nothing to forgive. It was... accident. It happened. Forget it."
"Forget it!" Starsky choked out. "How can I forget it. I put my best friend in the hospital where they have to drill a hole in his head and you just want me to forget that?!"
"Huh?" Hutch had no idea the extent of his injuries.
"Oh shit, you don't know do you? I'm sorry for opening my fat mouth." Seems like all I say anymore is 'I'm sorry'. I can't do anything right. "Never mind. The doctor will probably be here later or tomorrow."
"Starsky, what's wrong with me?" Hutch wanted answers now
Anguished eyes kept looking over his partner's battered body. "Uh. Well uh, you got a sprained neck again."
The avoidance worried Hutch. "It's my hand, isn't it? Can't be a cop no more."
"Nah, there's just a few minor broken bones. With a little therapy the hand will be good as new. You'll see. It'll be caressing women and hugging your cannon real soon."
"What else?" Hutch pressed. Then he remembered that Starsky said something about his head. He reached up with his left hand to touch his head and felt the thick bandages. "Concussion?"
"Yeah, pretty severe too." Starsky stopped to regroup. "Hutch what do you remember about the, uh, the accident?"
"Uh, Nothing."
"Well according to the police report and the docs, you apparently hit your head twice. Once on the window, and once into the dashboard. That's what they figure went down due to the knots on your noggin'."
Light blue eyes watched Starsky; knowing his partner was using delay tactics. To avoid the scrutiny, he stood up and began to pace, but the movement made him dizzy, so he sat back down on Hutch's bed and grabbed hold of his left hand, careful not to move the pulse ox clamp at the end of Hutch's large forefinger. "Apparently all that knocking around inside there gave you this sub-dura hema something-or-other. And it was pressin' into your brain. The docs needed to do surgery and they had to drill into your head and suck out all the extra blood." He paused, still not looking at the blonde. "That's why you're here in the ICU, so they can watch you closely for awhile."
Hutch let the information sink in. Then he thought of something else. "My hair?"
"Sorry babe. They had to shave it."
"All of it?"
"I dunno. Never thought to ask. Guess we'll find out when they change your dressings."
Hutch's hand automatically touched around bandages. He couldn't determine if any of his hair was still present underneath.
"When can I get out of here?"
"Not for a few days. You'll have to ask when the doctor gets here. But don't worry, if you need anything, I'll be here... okay?" Starsky looked searchingly at Hutch, not sure if the blonde would want him to stay.
Hutch tried to nod his head in the affirmative, but between the soft collar brace and the bandages, he didn't have much room for movement. Beside, his head hurt tremendously. He grimaced and clamped his eyes shut. The action and its response on Hutch's face was not lost on Starsky, and his face dropped in despondency.
Nurse Anne came back in with Hutch's Jell-O, some warm broth, and grapefruit juice. She also had some Naproxen, since she figured he was probably ready for some pain meds. "How about trying to eat some of this and then I'll give you some pain medication so you can rest?"
"What kind?" He asked, always on the alert for any narcotic based medication.
"Naproxen. It's an anti-inflammatory pain reducer. I see from your chart that you're allergic to codeine and anything with any opiate base. So we'll try this. It's fairly new and works better than Ibuprofen."
"I'll get him to eat Anne." Starsky pulled the rolling tray over Hutch's midsection. "Come on Blintz. Time to get something in that blonde bod of yours. Don't wantcha wasting away." Starsky gave his best friend a sly look. "Unless that's your objective? You want all these pretty nurses to hand feed ya, huh?"
Anne chuckled. "He'd be mighty disappointed then. Because the most we'll do is slide another needle in him and feed him that way."
Hutch sighed. "Okay, I'll try." Anne left the medication on the table in a little paper cup for Hutch to take when he was done eating his liquid dinner. After some maneuvering, Hutch was able to sip his broth and juice through a straw. He couldn't move his neck or jaw much, so Starsky helped him with the Jell-O and Hutch just let it melt in his mouth. But he finished it all, then Starsky gave him the pain pills and Hutch washed them down with some water.
Pushing the tray away, Starsky sat back down in the hard plastic chair next to the bed. His aches and pains were back full force. Hutch saw the slight grimace on his partner's face. "You okay Starsky? I'm sorry I forgot to ask."
"I'm fine, ya Blintz. I told you I'd already been released. Since the doc says I can't work for several days, I figured you might need me to do some stuff for you. Like get your mail, water your jungle; stuff like that."
"Don't lie to me Starsky. You're hurting. Maybe the nurse can give you something."
"I already got a prescription. Besides, if I take it and it makes me loopy, how am I supposed to be here for you?"
Hutch tried to argue with his partner, but his head was pounding and his hand ached. Nurse Anne came back into the room to take away the tray and make sure her patient took his medicine. She reminded Starsky that visiting hours were almost over. Hutch agreed, Starsky needed to go home and get some rest. "Go. I'm just gonna sleep." Hutch closed his eyes as the Naproxen began to work at easing his discomfort.
"Don't wanna leave ya." Starsky turned to Anne. "Can't I stay? I'll sleep in the chair. What if he needs me?"
"Don't you think I'm better trained to take care of your friend than you are? There's nothing you can do. And you aren't fully recovered from your injuries. Sleeping in that chair will only make your concussion worse."
Hutch didn't realize his partner had gotten a concussion also and he opened his hazy eyes to look at his blurry partner. "Concussh... Starsk. Go home." He said with as much forcefulness as he could, lifting his left hand and pointing the forefinger toward the door.
"Dobey said he and Edith will come get me. How about I call them and then they can pop up to see you?" Delay tactics had worked before on the blonde, maybe they would work now.
Hutch just closed his eyes again, unable to nod or respond. Within moments he was sound asleep.
"Please Anne?" Large indigo eyes with thick long lashes fluttered at the nurse, who was not immune to the pleading of the handsome detective.
"Okay. But just until your Captain arrives. Detective Hutchinson will probably sleep for the night. I don't want him disturbed, and you need to take care of yourself so you can help your friend. So when I tell you it's time, you leave. Deal?"
A firm dark hand reached out to shake her callused pale one. "Deal. Once the Dobey's get here, I'm gone." Starsky went to call the Dobeys from the waiting room.
In his heart, though, Starsky believed the reason Hutch wanted him gone was because he was angry with him. Hutch would never pull another stunt like he did the last time, but he did warn him that the reasons he did it was so that Starsky paid more attention to his driving. And what'd I do? I show him what his advice means to me by throwing him against a telephone pole. Some partner you are! How's he supposed to trust me anymore? Another thought occurred to him and a chill ran down his spine. What if Captain Dobey decides I'm too dangerous on the street and gives us some kinda desk duty, like R&I. Or worse yet, Hutch requests another partner? It's not like I don't deserve it. He thought morosely.
Starsky didn't want to fall asleep in the chair by Hutch's bedside, so he got up and paced the hallways on the third floor and chatted with some of the nurses while waiting for his ride. Anything to keep his mind off the events of the previous day and his partner lying in the other room with a hole in his head. Hutch was still asleep when the Dobeys arrived 30 minutes later.
"Starsky!" The bellow of his Captain's deep voice broke through the curly man's reverie.
"SHHH!" Hushed two of the nurses at the large imposing black man. "This is a hospital!" admonished one of them.
"Sorry, ladies." Dobey flashed his most charming smile at them and Edith elbowed him in his ample side to refrain her husband's flirting and focus him back where it belonged. They met Starsky half way down the hall. "You're supposed to be resting, not bounding around the hallways." Dobey spoke in a quieter, yet still firm voice.
"Can't sit in there any longer Cap'n. Edith." He nodded his head in greeting to the still lovely wife of his friend and superior.
"I want to stop and see Hutch for a minute, then we'll take you home. Did the doctor come back?"
"No, but Hutch was awake for an hour or so. I even got him to eat some Jell-O and broth. They might be takin' the I.V. out tomorrow if he's able to keep everything down."
The three visitors stopped in to see their friend. They spoke in whispers as Starsky told the Dobeys how good Hutch did for the short time he was awake. He also assured the Captain that the pain medicine Hutch was being given was a non-opiate. Edith stroked the pale cheek soothingly, a motherly gesture. She couldn't brush back any hair from his forehead; in fact she couldn't see any hair beneath the white bandages. But, being a mother, she needed to comfort in some way. The gentle stroking soon turned to Starsky's back as she tried to relax the tense man. Edith knew he didn't want to leave his best friend, but she also knew that he needed to take care of his own injuries first.
They didn't stay long, in fact Nurse Anne came in after ten minutes and told the three that visiting hours were long over and they needed to get the dark one home and let the blonde rest.
"We made a deal, Anne and I." Starsky explained. "I told her if I went home and took care of myself, she would let me stay past normal visiting hours."
"Don't worry Ma'am. We'll make sure he's taken care of." Dobey puffed out his large chest to show his authority.
"He'll be coming home with us." Explained Edith. "He needs some looking after."
"I can tell he's a handful." Anne grinned.
Starsky rolled his eyes. Great, another mother hen. But he didn't argue. His body wasn't in any mood to do so.
That night, after a light snack and a pain pill, Starsky lay in the Dobey's spare bedroom, formerly Cal's room, since he was now in college. It was all he could do to lay still and not get up. He didn't want to wake his friends, but even with the pain medicine, he couldn't rest.
All through his mind Starsky kept seeing images and hearing sounds: Images of his car careening around a corner, images of Hutch lying in the hospital bed, images of the doctor's face when he first told him about Hutch. Sounds of Hutch's head hitting the windshield, sounds of Hutch slurring his words, sounds of machines -- pumping around his friend's arm and broadcasting the beat of his heart.
It was going to take awhile for Starsky to get over the guilt and self-recrimination.
Edith dropped Starsky off at the hospital at 9:00 in the morning. Merle was going to drop off a rental car at the hospital. Hopefully the doctor hadn't been up to see Hutch yet because Starsky wanted to hear what he had to say. If there's anything wrong, I deserve to hear the blame in the doctor's words directly from him.
Making his way upstairs to the ICU, Starsky was hopeful that Hutch would be moved soon to a regular room. He was about to be disappointed.
Starsky found Hutch lying on his bed, face flushed and drawn, gasping for breath. A nurse was in the process of placing an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. An automatic blood pressure cuff took his pressure every two minutes. The heart monitor was racing, the number 136 flashing in the lower right hand corner.
"What's going on?" Starsky looked back and forth between the two nurses and his besieged partner.
"Detective Hutchinson is just having a little difficulty catching his breath. We're going to leave the non-rebreather mask on him for awhile to get his heart-rate down, and until he can breathe easier."
"Is this normal?"
"Yes. Absolutely. That's why he's here so we can constantly monitor everything before a problem arises.
The nurse finished and stood next to the bed for a few minutes watching the monitors and her patient. Once the heart-rate began to settle down to a more reasonable number, she removed herself from the room to get the patient's medicine, which she would administer via the I.V.
Starsky settled down to wait for his partner to calm and open his eyes. When they did open the light blue eyes they were glazed with pain and confusion. He lifted his right arm toward the oxygen mask, unable to remove it with the casted fingers. He brought his left hand up and took the mask off. Starsky thought perhaps he wanted to say something, so he was unprepared as Hutch tried to take the entire contraption from around his head.
"Hey, what're you doing buddy? You need to leave that on for now."
"Gotta go. Iron's on." Hutch swung his legs over the side and tried to push himself off the bed. The gauze holding the I.V. tugged at the skin on his inner left elbow. "Damn bugs." Hutch swatted at the I.V. needle as it pinched.
Starsky began to get concerned about his partner's actions. Taking hold of his left arm he tried to gently force him to lie back down. "Hutch. Buddy? You can't be getting up yet."
Noticing another person in the same room since waking up, Hutch looked up into the dark blue eyes. "Why are..." But his sentence trailed off; the face in front of him not registering in his confused mind. Exhaustion taking over, Hutch finally gave in to the gentle pressure pushing him backwards. Closing his eyes, he began mumbling incoherently.
The dark haired detective was now very worried about his friend. He pushed the call button wrapped around the bars of the bed to bring a nurse in. "Everything okay?" She inquired.
Finger pointed at the figure in the bed, Starsky explained. "No, something's wrong with Hutch. He's been trying to get up and he's not makin' any sense."
As if on cue, Hutch's eyes flew open again and he tried to roll out of bed. "I'm coming." The nurse shoved his legs back onto the bed and raised the side rails so he couldn't attempt to get out again. "Reid needs me to back him up." Looking around him he asked where his guitar was. "I'm due on stage in five minutes; can't find the damn thing."
This changing back and forth between subjects really had Starsky concerned now as his nervousness showed in the way he was bouncing in his sneakers. "What's wrong?"
One of the nurses, a large older woman that reminded Starsky of a lunch-aide from school days, pushed him from behind the curtain. "Sir, you'll have to leave for a moment."
Starsky held his arm out toward his friend. "What's wrong?" He repeated. "Why won't you tell me what's going on with Hutch?"
"Please sir. Just wait in the waiting area. Someone will be down shortly." The nurse kept pushing him backwards until he was in the main hallway, then she turned to go back into the curtained room where Hutch laid.
Pacing back and forth and worrying for his friend over the next half an hour brought Starsky's headache back full-force. Finally a nurse came down and asked that Starsky step into one of the private consultation rooms. "Dr. Poulous will be right in." she said closing the door behind her.
Uh oh, this can't be good.
"I'm sure you're worried about your friend, Detective."
Curls bobbed as his head nodded.
"Let me assure you that he's okay. He had a minor set back, but this was to be expected. Sometimes patients who have had a subdural hematoma can become confused or combative. We're not sure of the exact reasons, but the stress on the brain is most likely the cause. With medication his emotions can be controlled, which is what we've done now. Detective Hutchinson will need quiet and rest for the next few days, so I would suggest you go home and take care of yourself and come back in the morning for a little while. We're going to limit his visitors to assure that he's getting the proper rest."
"Will... will he always be confused like this? I mean, will it come and go?"
"No, it shouldn't. In a few days we'll take him down for a CT scan to make sure the brain swelling has gone down. As it decreases in size, and shifts back to its normal position, that should eliminate the probability of this happening again. And in the meantime, we'll keep him medicated."
Dark curls bounced in a nod. After the doctor left the conference room, Starsky ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his face harshly. Then abruptly he turned and ran out of the hospital and down the crowded streets, only stopping when he was out of breath.
The dark blue eyes took in the activity surrounding him, the people going about their daily lives; the traffic lights ever changing, yet always the same; the clouds moving slowly across the sky. Everything swirled around him -- continuously flowing. How can these people keep going about their daily lives when the world's crashing around me? Starsky thought illogically, then immediately rebuked himself. From the heavy pounding of his chest, he knew then why his world seemed off kilter. I can't just run away from the problem. I did this to Hutch, now I have to own up to it. This is my responsibility. Stop thinking so negatively! He's probably gonna be fine.
Even if the blonde wanted to push his partner away, Starsky wasn't going to budge. Not until he was sure Hutch was complete in his recovery. Then, if his partner wanted him to go away, or distance himself from their partnership, even if it meant breaking his heart, then Starsky would go. In the meantime, he was going to ride Hutch's ass to make sure the blonde listened to the doctors and made a complete recovery.
The dark haired detective leaned against the wall for some time, eyes closed, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. Several people that passed him looked strangely at the heavily breathing man with the shock of curly brown hair. Finally Starsky pulled himself from his thoughts and opened his eyes. He turned and began making his way back down the street back toward the hospital to pick up his rental car and go home.
Thankfully there were no more episodes in which Hutch was confused and disoriented. The following day the oxygen mask was removed and two days after that he was moved back into his old room on the fourth floor where Samantha and Anne would be his nurses again. Once moved into the regular room the visiting restrictions were lifted and Starsky, still on leave, spent most of his time with the blonde. He would usually arrive around 10 in the morning after stopping by Hutch's to water the 'jungle' and pick up his mail, stopping first at the cafeteria to pick up something for breakfast. Then he would stay until lunch, taking a break at Hutch's insistence, making sure he was back an hour later and staying until 10 in the evening.
Three days after being moved, the blonde was just finishing up a breakfast of milk, apple juice, scrambled eggs, and toast when Starsky arrived. He wasn't able to finish it, but it was enough to make both his day nurse, Samantha, and Starsky happy. "Hey Blintz, good job!"
Hutch scowled at him, the best he could. "Quit treating me like a kid."
Starsky's face fell. "Have I been doing that? Huh, Hutch? I'm sorry." I can't do anything right!
"Stop with the guilt trip Starsky, that's my department." As always, Hutch saw right through the other man's thoughts.
Changing the subject, Starsky asked, "Has the doc been in yet?"
"Nah. He's supposed to stop by shortly though."
"But how're you feeling?" Starsky took a good look at his partner. He seemed better. He was eating, his color was good, his eyes were bright -- though a little cloudy from the pain medication. Starsky was hopeful that his friend would be out of the hospital soon.
Hutch closed his eyes and thought before he answered. He knew his partner was already feeling guilty over the accident, so he didn't want to let on how much he still ached. "Gotta headache."
"That's it?"
"Yeah. Feels better when I close my eyes and rest."
"Okay, so close 'em, ya big lug. No need to keep me entertained. I'll just sit here and wait for the doctor to come by."
Hutch obeyed, only because conversation was beginning to make his head pound. Soon he was resting quietly, his breathing so light that Starsky thought he had fallen asleep. He watched his apparently sleeping friend for awhile.
"God Hutch. Look at you. Look at what I did to you. I can't say 'I'm sorry' enough. You told me... you warned me that someday I was gonna get seriously hurt with my reckless driving. But it wasn't me was it? It was you that got hurt. And it's all my fault."
Starsky didn't realize that Hutch was still awake while he bared his guilty feelings. It wasn't often that the dark one let his guard down, so Hutch let him continue without letting on that he could hear every word, every emotion in Starsky's voice.
"I know I don't often tell you how important you are to me. You're my best friend. You taught me so much. How many times have you saved my life and this is how I repay you?!"
Starsky buried his face in his hands and rubbed it.
"Stop it," came a tortured whisper from the bed.
Dark blue eyes looked up at barely opened light blue ones. "Hutch? You're supposed to be sleeping."
"Can't sleep. Hurts too much."
"All the more reason you should sleep babe."
"Don't try to change the subject. What was all that about?" Hutch waved his casted arm weakly.
Starsky turned his head so that Hutch couldn't see the misery in his eyes. "Nothin', just ramblin'."
"Bull. You're feeling guilty, and I told you it wasn't your fault." Hutch spoke more forcefully than he meant to and briefly squeezed his eyes closed in pain. He took a deep breath to hold back the pain and spoke weakly. "It was an accident."
"Yeah, caused by my careless driving."
"Please Starsk. I can't do this now. It hurts too much." Hutch was beginning to feel guilty that Starsky was blaming himself because he was hurt.
But Starsky misunderstood. "Okay. I told myself I would be here for you if you needed anything. But I understand. If you don't want me around or, or" his voice drops along with his head, "if you want another partner, I won't argue. Just, just tell me directly, okay? I don't wanna hear from Dobey."
"What are you talking about?"
But before Starsky could answer, Dr. Brazen came into the room.
"Good morning Detectives. How are you both feeling today?" Dr. Brazen's voice was deep and cheerful. Hutch scrunched his face against the noise.
"I'm better, but Hutch here has a bad headache." Starsky pointed to his prone partner.
"Well let me see what we've got here." He took a penlight and lifted Hutch's eyelids to look at the light blue eyes and their pupils' reaction to the light. "When was the last time you had some pain medication?"
"After breakfast."
Dr. Brazen went over to the chart at the end of the bed. He reviewed the vitals that the nurses had taken during the night and the frequency of the pain medication Hutch was taking.
"How long do I have to stay here?" Plaintive blue eyes looked at the doctor studying his chart.
"Several days at least," Dr. Brazen answered without looking up. "Your blood pressure's up to 165/95, which is high for you. We'll give you something to help lower it. Your pulse is also running fast. Since your urine output is good, I'm going to have the I.V. removed, and the soft collar can come off if you promise not to beat your head into any walls," he added with a crinkle of his eyes and smile.
"What about... these," Hutch asked touching the bandages on his head.
"It'll be awhile before the stitches and bandages can be removed."
"Why...?"
Dr. Brazen clipped the chart on the board at the end of the bed and looked directly at Hutch. "Detective, you had an acute subdural hematoma." The doctor proceeded to explain to Hutch exactly what that entailed and the problems that could, still, arise. "Later today we'll take you down for a CT scan to make sure there's no more bleeding and that the swelling is going down."
"I just wanna go home."
"All you gotta do is what the doctor says." Starsky tried to assure his friend by patting his hand.
The doctor continued the litany of Hutch's injuries. "You also have a broken right hand, but no major or permanent damage was done. We'll keep the cast on for four weeks and then see how the bones are healing. You'll probably need some physical therapy to build up the strength and conditioning in that hand. Regardless how long you're in here, you won't be able to stay alone for several weeks after your release. And you won't be able to go back to work for several months."
"How long do you think?" Asked Starsky.
The doctor looked at the other detective. "Depends on how his therapy progresses. We'll start with speech therapy and probably physical. He'll need to follow up with Dr. Poulos, the neurosurgeon." He turned back to Hutch and added, "You might want to consider wearing some sort of head cover -- hat, bandana -- for awhile."
"Why?"
"Your hair Blintz. Don't you remember I told you they had to shave your head?" Starsky wished he could rustle the blonde hair, but he couldn't and he doubted he would ever be able to touch Hutch's head again without worrying.
"Only the area where we went in. Here," the doctor pointed to a 3" diameter area on the right side of Hutch's skull, above the ear.
"It will look lopsided until the new growth comes in, so we always recommend it."
Starsky smirked at his friend, but then, seeing the grimace on the pale pink face, he frowned, realizing it was his fault that Hutch's blonde locks had been shaved.
"You should rest, your CT scan is scheduled for 2:30 this afternoon. Hopefully the radiologist can read it and get the results to me or Dr. Poulos by the end of the day. If not, one of us will be in to see you tomorrow."
Before Hutch could bring back their previous conversation, Starsky ducked into the bathroom to take a much needed break. By the time he exited, Samantha had arrived with Hutch's medication. Again giving Starsky more time to avoid any dissension with his partner. Starsky didn't realize, however, that Hutch had completely forgotten about the conversation they'd been having before the doctor walked in.
"You've been a good boy, Ken, so we're going to take this nasty needle out, okay?" Samantha's cheery voice echoed in the room.
"'M not some kid. Ever'one keeps treatin' me like one," Hutch mumbled.
"Sorry Ken. Sometimes I go overboard." She leaned over Hutch's left arm and clamped the hose that lead from the I.V. bottle on the stand to into his arm. "This will pinch a little." She slid the long needle from his arm and immediately put a gauze strip over it, holding it down to stop any excess bleeding. After cleaning the area off gently and placing a bandage over it, she had Hutch hold his arm up for a few moments while she took the soft collar off.
After getting her patient comfortable and lowering his arm, Samantha gave him a smiling "be back in awhile" and left the room, closing the door behind her.
"Hey, how's it feel to finally be free of some of those attachments?" Starsky asked his partner.
Hutch had forgotten Starsky was still there and opened one eye, looking at the dark-haired man. "Starsk? You still here? Go home. I'm just gonna sleep and you need to take it easy."
Starsky bit his lower lip. "I don't like the idea of leavin' you babe. What if you need somethin'?"
"Then the nurse'll get it for me. Go on." He closed his eyes again, wanting some rest and hoping to convince Starsky to go home and do the same.
"Well, okay," Starsky hesitated, "let me call Merle first to see if he has a car ready for me." He called the colorful auto repairman from Hutch's room and was told that a car was on its way. Merle was dropping off a 1975 Ford Maverick. "I'll come back about two. Before your scan. Oh, and about the rental car Hutch -- guess what," he whispered as he leaned over to tell his partner about the car Merle was loaning him, "Merle said it's Red-Orange."
After showering, grabbing a bite to eat, and resting some, Starsky rushed back to the hospital shortly before 2:00. As he pushed the door open to his partner's room, he heard Samantha's voice "...when you get back from the CT we'll put the head back up and see how you feel then."
"Hey Buddy, how're you feeling?"
Samantha answered for the prone detective, smiling in reassurance at the dark haired man. "He's got a major headache, and his blood pressure is still too high. But don't worry, that's common. We're gonna keep the bed at a upright like this to help relieve some of the pressure.
"Why not give him some pain medication?"
She looked at the concerned dark-haired man. "Because he's not due for it until 3:00. I'll give him some when he gets back from the CT." Then she turned back to Hutch. "Have you ever had a CT scan?"
"No, but I've heard about 'em."
Samantha placed both hands on the edge of the bed and leaned down so Hutch could look directly at her without moving his head. She explained the procedure of lying on a sliding table while it passes underneath the machine which overhangs the table.
Hutch lifted his left hand and waved it, "I'll be fine."
"Well the orderlies should be here soon to take you down, so I'll leave you with your friend for a few minutes." With that, and a wave, Samantha left the room.
The thick, orange covered vinyl chair that Starsky had sat in yesterday was gone, so he pulled up the regular room chair, which reminded him of the chairs in the hospital cafeteria. Not hard plastic, but not exactly built for comfort or carriage either. They weren't even pretty to look at. This one had a dark lime green seat and back with dark faux oak arms and thick black plastic legs. But Starsky didn't care what his back or buttocks would feel like in a few hours. The only thing he cared about was the person laying that bed.
"I don't know Hutch, maybe you should take something anyway? It sounds pretty scary." Worried Starsky; anything to make this easier on his partner.
One blue eye opened to look at his worried partner. "You worry too much Mom. I'll just keep my eyes closed and rest," he trailed off. "Besides, my head feels better that way." He opened both eyes again, as if really noticing his partner for the first time. "Starsk, why didn't you wait until later to come back?"
"I wanted to see your ugly mug before the scan -- make sure you're okay."
"I'm fine." At that point two orderlies came into the room to take Hutch down for his CT scan. "Go get something to drink and eat and relax. You're still recovering too. Everything will be okay."
An hour and a half later, the same orderlies brought Hutch back to his room. Letting him rest, Starsky went in search of Dr. Brazen. Tracking him down after traversing most of the hospital, Starsky asked him about the results of the scan, not wanting to wait until the next day. The doctor assured the worried man that everything looked good and soon the physical therapists would be working with Hutch to get him back on his feet.
After he made his way back to Hutch's side, Samantha and an older, heavier built woman, came in to get Hutch upright. First, Jolene, the older woman, cranked the bed up to its highest position. Starsky could literally see the blood drain from his partner's face. They left the blonde in that position until his blood flow and equilibrium adjusted. Then the two nurses stood next to the left side of the bed, where there was more room and instructed Hutch to scoot toward them, like he would be if he was getting off the bed. They had his legs dangle down for a few minutes for the 'pins and needles' feeling in his legs to decrease. With Samantha on his right side, holding Hutch's upper arm, and Jolene supporting his back and shoulders, Hutch unsteadily got to his feet. His left hand pushed up to balance him. Eventually he straightened upright and rocked back on his heels to maintain his balance.
Standing with his upper thighs leaning against the hospital bed and with Samantha holding his arm and Jolene his back, Hutch felt the headache come back full force. Starsky, watching his partner carefully, could tell by the furrowed brow and tightly knit eyes. "I, uh, I think he needs to lay back down now." The dark haired man bit his lip worriedly.
Looking up to see the pain on the patient's face, Samantha agreed. "Okay, let's sit you down slowly and then we'll help you swing your legs back up on the bed. Let the medication work and rest for now. We'll be back in a few hours to try again."
It didn't take long for the medicine to work, and soon Hutch was resting as comfortably as he could. Starsky sat in the hard green chair watching the up and down movement of the blonde's chest. I know you said it was an accident, buddy; but it was an accident that I could've -- no should've prevented. Why don't I insist we wear seatbelts? Even Dr. Laitly scolded me about that. As a cop I should know better. Then you wouldn't be lyin' here, brain all banged up. What if you can't go back to work? What if you have memory problems or something short-circuits up there? The dark, unshaven face kept drawing more and more downward. He slunk down in the chair as best he could, even knowing it wouldn't do his back any good. Eventually he dozed into a fitful sleep.
When Samantha walked by the room an hour later, she noticed that Starsky had fallen asleep. She removed a blanket and pillow from a storage compartment and gently covered him, tucking the pillow behind his neck for better support.
Shortly after 6:00, an aide dropped off dinner for the two men. Samantha was kind enough to order something for Starsky as well since it was doubtful he'd had much to eat over the last week. The banging and clanging of the dinner trays woke Starsky abruptly and in his jolted state, he reached for the gun under his right arm; his actions uncoordinated with sleepiness.
"Wha...? Who? Oh, man, you scared me?" He sat up and rubbed his eyes with both hands. "What time is it?"
"Dinner time. And it looks like someone ordered a meal for you too," said the aide as she lifted the cover off his tray and sat it on the sideboard, before leaving to deliver the next patient's meal.
"Hey Hutch buddy?" Starsky gently shook the large thigh of the prone man on the bed. "Hutch."
Slowly a pale blue eye opened.
"It's dinner time buddy. Let's try to get something in you."
"M'not hun'ry" Hutch mumbled.
"How's your head feeling? Any better than earlier?"
"Uh, yeah, I think."
"Well then, the sooner you can get outta that bed and start moving around, the sooner you can go home. And the only way you're gonna have strength to get outta that bed is to eat."
"Oh, man, you always know how to get to me," said Hutch beginning a light stretch and waking up more, as Starsky set the tray table in place and peered into the containers holding what passed for his partner's food. Then Starsky grabbed his tray and sat on the end of the bed so they could have dinner together.
Starsky's meal consisted of two thin slices of dark meat turkey and mashed potatoes covered in gravy with corn for a vegetable. There was a pint of milk and a cup of coffee. For desert, there was a packet of Oreo cookies. His nose went up at the bland looking meal. It wasn't something the curly-haired detective would've ever picked out for himself, but since he was hungry and someone obviously was looking out for him... well, he would eat it.
Hutch's meal on the other hand was even more bland, if that was possible. Beef broth, crackers, tomato soup, two pieces of wheat toast with apple butter & jelly, apple juice and milk. For desert Hutch had a packet of Lorna Doone cookies.
To Hutch his meal didn't seem all that bad, but to Starsky... "Ughh babe. Glad I don't have to eat that crap."
Taking a closer look at Starsky's warm dinner, Hutch replied "Well at least mine isn't loaded with all that salt. Just think how much is in that gravy alone!"
Smiling with a mouthful of mashed potatoes, Starsky stated "Need all that salt to make it taste halfway decent."
Chuckling together, the two ate their dinner in an easy peace.
Soon after dinner the evening nurse, Anne, came in with a male therapist to help get Hutch on his feet and take him down to P.T. First, though, Anne needed to remove the catheter, so she pulled the curtain around the bed, giving Hutch at least a small degree of privacy.
With some help the blonde was able to get on his feet and into the wheelchair to the private bathroom so he could take care of personal issues. The male therapist went into the bathroom with him and then removed himself to give Hutch some time. Hovering outside the door, his partner kept pestering him with questions on how his head felt, was he dizzy, did he need Starsky to do anything. "The only reason I'm getting a headache, Starsky, is from listening to you!" Shouted the muffled response from the bathroom.
After some minutes, Hutch slowly opened the bathroom door and the therapist helped him back into the chair.
Seeing Starsky's unsure demeanor as he watched his friend leave, the nurse suggested he follow his partner down so that he could get some instructions on what Hutch would need when he was released.
The next day Hutch was feeling better, eating more, and up and around. The activity his partner displayed helped Starsky deal with his feelings of guilt and anxiety. He still worried about Hutch, and worried that once he was back on his feet and back to work, that the Blintz would ask Dobey for a new partner -- one that didn't risk the blonde's life every time they got into a car.
The day before Hutch was released, Dr. Laitly approved Starsky back for duty. Since his partner was still going to be out for some weeks, Starsky filled in at Records helping with backlog. It was not his favorite job, but better than traffic or having a new partner.
While Starsky went back to work, Edith stayed with Hutch during the days, taking him to physical therapy. Speech therapy wasn't needed beyond a few short sessions in the hospital. Their captain's wife usually left around 4:00 to make sure Rosie was doing her homework and to start dinner. Starsky made sure he was home by 5:30 so that Hutch didn't have to stay alone too long. In the event of an emergency, the next door neighbor said she would keep her eyes and ears open.
Starsky continued to stay with Hutch at Venice Place, denying the blonde's frustrated claims that he could take care of himself. "Sure you can, ya Blintz. You can't even tie your shoes, you can barely walk even with the walker, and what if you end up fallin' and break you other arm? Fat lotta good you'll do me then."
"Huh? Why would my injuring my other arm be bad for you?"
Gulping, thinking maybe this was where Hutch told him it was time they got new partners, Starsky answered "Uh because you won't be able to do anything for yourself. And unless you plan on laying out the dough for a private nurse, I guess it'll be me stuck with dressing you and feeding you and bathing your ass."
"Starsky you are not going to wipe any part of my ass."
To prove his point that he was not helpless, Hutch got up off the couch to get himself something to drink. As he took a step forward his right leg gave out a little and he stumbled, setting his right hand on the side table to steady himself, while batting down Starsky's hands as his partner attempted to help straighten him.
Needing to do something with his hands, Starsky placed them on his hips. "What'd I tell you? You need me around." I hope.
Disgusted by his body's weakness, Hutch nodded his reluctance briefly before continuing on his way to the kitchen.
"Hey, where're you going?"
"To get something to drink. Is that okay with you?"
Rushing next to Hutch, Starsky offered to get the convalescent something to drink "but no alcohol."
"What I wouldn't give for a beer right now." Hutch sighed.
Starsky decided to drop the fast-becoming argument and changed the subject. "What about some dinner? I'll pay." Hoping to get a smile and joke from his tightwad partner.
"Get whatever you want," said Hutch with a wave of his casted hand.
Hutch grabbed some water and turned on the TV, hoping to find a drama or musical before his partner turned on some loud game or B-movie. Then he sat back down on the couch to rest.
Starsky decided to give his partner some breathing room and ordered a pizza, picking it up himself. Hutch was grateful for the quiet and promised to stay on the couch.
"Hey Blintz I'm back!" Starsky shouted as he closed the door behind him with his foot.
The shout and slam of the door made Hutch wince with pain.
Placing the pizza on the dinette table and filling two plates with slices, Starsky plopped himself onto the couch next to his partner. After a few minutes he spoke with his mouthful "What the heck is this crap you're watching?"
"'Ordinary People,' And get that smell away from me." Shoving his partner and his tomato smell away from him.
"Aw Hutch, you like Frankie's Pizza."
"Not tonight I don't. I just want to be left in peace." Sighing heavily and realizing Starsky wasn't going to leave, Hutch decided he should just go to bed.
"Where're you going now?"
"To the bathroom if you don't mind, and then to bed," remarked the frustrated blonde as he used the walker to shuffle his way out of the living area.
"Man, what a grouch," mumbled Starsky through another slice of pepperoni.
The door to the bathroom closed shut and Starsky got up off the couch to find something more to his liking on the TV.
Hearing the water running in the bathroom, Starsky figured his friend was brushing his teeth. At the sound of something sharp hitting the floor, he jumped from the couch to see if his partner was okay. Opening the door without knocking angered Hutch.
"What the hell! Starsky! Can't a guy get any privacy?"
"I heard something fall. Wanted to make sure you didn't hurt yourself." He said, still holding the knob of the door.
"I dropped the plastic cup, for God's sake."
Starsky let go of the doorknob, closing the door quietly and leaning against it. He gulped. Is he hinting that he doesn't want me around anymore? He quietly went back to watching 'Manimal' without saying another word as he listened to his partner finish up in the bathroom and make his way to bed.
The next morning Starsky was hopeful that his friend would be in a better mood. In order to make peace, he decided to mix Hutch's favorite concoction of wheat germ, Vitamin E, and goat's milk before he left for work.
The sound of the blender woke the blonde, who stumbled into the kitchenette listening to his partner try to sing some Bee Gee's song.
"Please Starsk -- enough." Putting his left hand up to his head to ward off the ear splitting sounds.
"Hey partner. How about a power breakfast and then a pill?"
A large pale hand snaked out and grabbed the tumbler full of shake. Taking a large gulp, Hutch grimaced, but decided not to complain to his nurse. He was feeling guilty enough over the way he had treated Starsky the previous night. "I'm sorry for last night Starsk," Hutch said quietly as he placed the unfinished shake on the counter. "I don't know what came over me. I'm just so sick of being weak and tired."
Pleased with the apology, Starsky mentioned that he had to be getting to work. "Apology not needed, but accepted anyway. Edith will be here shortly, so I better get moving if I want to get to work." Running through the back of Starsky's mind was the reason why he volunteered to stay with his partner during his recuperation and he promised to himself not to let Hutch's moods get to him. He knew they were part of the symptoms of having his brains scrambled.
"Go. I'll be fine. Stop mother henning me."
Starsky called his partner at lunchtime to check on him. "How're you feeling?"
"Starsky, I'm fine. We just got back from PT and I'm a little sore. So why don't you let me go so I can get some rest?"
"Sorry buddy. I was just concerned."
A deep sigh came through the other end of the phone. "I know. My head hurts."
"Take a pill."
"Yes mother."
"Okay I gotta get back. You just rest and do what Edith says."
Starsky was relieved that his partner seemed to be in a better mood. Unfortunately it didn't last once he arrived at Venice Place around 6:30 with take out.
The evening progressed much the same as the previous one, with Hutch in a grumpy mood and Starsky in a depressed one.
After another uncomfortable night on Hutch's couch, Starsky awoke to the sound of his clumsy partner tripping out of bed. Sitting up and looking in the alcove, Starsky saw Hutch's legs and feet twisted around the bedclothes on the floor; while he attempted to 'break free', grumbling the entire time.
Slowly getting up to help untwine his partner from the carnivorous bedclothes, Starsky chuckled at Hutch's predicament. "Need a little help there?"
Looking up to see his dark-haired partner and friend, arms folded across his chest and leaning into the doorframe, Hutch was embarrassed. "I'm fine. I can do this myself." Making an effort not to help, Starsky watched as Hutch attempted to disengage himself. Eventually the shoulders on the blonde slumped down. "I'm so tired of this." His voice broke and tears threatened to drop.
Starsky walked over and gently untangled Hutch and the sheets. Putting his hand on the broad shoulders, he spoke gently, "Hutch we need to talk. You've really been on edge for the last few days. What's wrong? Is it me? Did I do somethin'?"
"I think you've done enough, don't you?" The dark-haired figure blanched and his eyes grew anguished. Hutch immediately regretted his words. "I'm sorry Gordo. I'm just so... so frustrated. I want to do things and it seems my brain is thinking faster than my mouth or the rest of my body. Forgive me?"
"Aw Hutch, I forgive you. You've forgiven me for putting you through this, so how can I not forgive you for speaking the truth."
Hutch let his best friend help get him untangled from the bedclothes and into the bathroom. Once all the necessities were taken care of, Starsky sat Hutch down on the bed. Before going to get the blonde's breakfast, the two decided to make some promises to each other.
Hutch promised to let Starsky 'mother-hen' him and to do whatever Mrs. Dobey, the doctor, or the therapists told him to do -- to the letter. Even though it went against the blonde's grain to let his guard down. Starsky promised to stop saying 'I'm sorry'. But he couldn't stop feeling guilty; he hated the way he kept upsetting Hutch.
The caution paid off for both men. Hutch grew stronger and the therapy session grew further apart. Starsky felt more at ease around his partner and let the weight lift from his shoulders. However he still hovered, called him constantly from work, and refused to go on dates, which made the blonde frustrated.
"Starsky you've gotten happier, but you still seem to be on this guilt trip. I'm getting better, my hand's almost healed and my hair's beginning to grow back."
"But Hutch you don't understand. I gotta... I gotta make sure you're gonna be okay. That nothing else is gonna go wrong. That's the only way I can live with myself." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Even if you don't want me to be your partner anymore, I can live with that, but I couldn't handle it if somethin' else happens. "
Hutch was dumbfounded. "Another partner? Who said anything about another partner? Where's that coming from? And what makes you think I don't understand what you're going through, huh?" He stepped close to his friend and jabbed his slightly swollen forefinger into the solid chest in front of him. "Who let Marcus' groupies kidnap you? Who didn't warn you soon enough about Gunther's hit men? I know a lot about guilt buddy and it just keeps building up and building up until it explodes and you go crazy."
"But Hutch those situations weren't the same. I was driving the car, I neglected to remind you about your seatbelt..."
"Uh, buddy you didn't have one on either," Hutch interjected.
"Yeah, but as the driver, it's my responsibility to make sure my passengers wear one."
Hutch ran his left hand through his longish blonde hair, glad that he was finally able to do so. "Starsky, I think you need to talk to Dr. Mitchell."
"The department shrink!" Starsky squeaked out.
The blonde head nodded slowly as Hutch quietly spoke. "Yeah buddy; the department shrink. I can't seem to convince you that the accident and my corresponding head injury wasn't your fault, and neither can Dobey or anyone else."
"I'll try Hutch, okay? I can't promise that I won't continue to worry every time you trip over those two poles you call legs, or when some suspect points a gun in your direction."
"That's all I want buddy is for you to try. Get on with your life. Quit hovering over me all the time and get out and enjoy yourself. I just want my best friend and partner back."
Starsky realized then how all this had changed their relationship, and not for the better. Hutch was being smothered; Starsky had taken the 'mother-henning' to a new level. If I had kept this up much longer, he really would've requested another partner.
As if he could read his partner's mind (and maybe he could), Hutch added. "I don't want to ask Dobey to put you back on the streets until your head clears. So, please, for both our sakes, let it go."
And eventually Starsky kept good on his promise. His social life began to pick up, especially once Hutch's hair grew all the way back and they could compete for women again. Life returned to normal. Both he and Hutch made efforts to wear their seatbelts at all time, and together they took a driving course, to catch up on the latest laws and technology.
Hutch would always complain about Starsky's driving and Starsky would always complain about Hutch's whining, but that's the way the two partners were and would always be.
The End