Sweet Refrain

Fingertips across my brow? Is that your touch? Maybe it was just a breeze… so light I wasn’t even sure I felt it. Nice though, a whisper-stroke that brushed the hair back from my forehead. Made me want to reach out for you, see if you’re really here…

What’s that? I can just barely hear your words. You’re murmuring; I can’t understand. Seems like you’re talkin’ in your sleep. Or maybe in my sleep… It’s okay anyway, makes me feel less lonely.

Don’t go… You move away and I can’t hear you anymore. Are you my dream? Or is my partner really here? Hutch…?

Everything’s all fuzzy, or foggy maybe. I can’t focus right. God, I’m tired. But there you are. Turn around, please.

That’s right. Here’s lookin’ at you, kid. I’m here.

Why so surprised? Your voice is squeakin’. Can’t you believe it’s me? Yeah, I’m awake– just had a cat-nap.

Hey, who’s she? Who’s that woman you’re grabbin’? If it’s me you’re glad t’see, come over here. Spin me around… no, I think I’d get too dizzy… but c’mere. You did touch my forehead before, I’m sure now. Do it again… I need…

Whaddya mean, he’s awake, he’s gonna be okay? Come here, Hutch, tell me what’s going on. That face a’yours… eyes all big and wide, looking incredulous, relieved… can you call a grown man, a scruffy cop, cute? Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say it out loud, in front of her, whoever she is… just…

Wait a minute. Something feels wrong. I can’t… s’hard to breathe, move. There’s pain… inside… like it was waitin’ for me… Jesus… feels like I’ve been emptied out… filled up with… agony– help… God it hurts. Hutch, please…

Where are you? What’s goin’ on? I don’t want her, don’t want anyone else… I don’t know him with the stethoscope… hey, where’s Hutch? Why are you backin’ away, buddy? You’re looking scared now, spooked… and it’s scarin’ me, to see all these strangers come between us. Wish I could just reach out and get hold of your hand, but it hurts too bad… and I don’t have the strength… Hutch? Don’t go…

*****

Trembling, Hutch found himself against the far wall of Starsky’s hospital room. He let the professionals move in, realizing there was nothing he could do. His soaring relief had crashed hard when Starsky had groaned, when his face had contorted in what Hutch knew must be terrible pain. He felt as if he couldn’t stand to watch, yet he could not tear his eyes away. It hurt him to see Starsky’s suffering, the feeble movements of his hands, the brow furrowing in confusion and fear. He wanted to rush to his side, take hold and keep the pain away. But he could see, through the fresh clarity his fear provided, that any efforts of his would be futile. And he was scared, too, of getting too close. He felt big and clumsy, and Starsky appeared so delicate under the bandages, pale from blood-loss.

So he stood still, watching as the doctor and nurses tended their patient, holding his breath until the medication they administered seemed to ease Starsky’s distress. His eyes darted to the monitor screen, where he could see that his partner’s heart still functioned at a normal rhythm. He tried to tell himself not to worry, that Starsky’s waking was truly the hopeful sign he’d thought when he had first seen those open blue eyes.

The doctor approached. “He’s sleeping normally now. Of course, he’s not completely out of the woods, but his regaining consciousness is very good news. I tell you, Sergeant, I didn’t believe he’d make it. Sergeant? Are you all right?”

Hutch nodded briefly to acknowledge the doctor. He was feeling light-headed, swamped with emotion. “Okay if I stay with him a while longer?” He moved toward the chair he’d occupied earlier, barely hearing the physician’s affirmative answer.

There, close to the bed that held his partner, he felt better. His heart was still pounding from the adrenalin rush, but he was gradually calming down. Starsky was sleeping. His face looked peaceful, free of pain. In times past, Hutch had held Starsky tight in his arms when he’d been hurting. He couldn’t do that now. He could only wait and hope and do the work that awaited him on the outside. He’d remain here a while yet, though, before getting back to finding the man responsible for the attempt on Starsky’s life. Right now he just wanted to stay at his friend’s side, to watch the regular rising and falling of the bandaged chest, to know that this life he held so dear would continue.

After long moments, he reached out a shaky hand, stroking back the damp, soft curls from his friend’s forehead once again. “I’m here, partner,” his whisper sought to reassure. “Rest easy, love.”

*****

I’m back. I think so anyway. Feels like I’m trying to pull myself out of a mudslide. Like I was knocked out, by drugs… yeah, there was a doctor, nurses… where’s Hutch?

Okay. You ‘re over there. Looks like you’re sleeping, but that chair can’t be all that comfortable. Now, what’s goin’ on?

Look around… this is the hospital, all right. And I’m the one in bed. I hurt, dammit I can tell they’ve given me something, but underneath it, the pain’s still there. Feels like it’s gonna hurt for a long time.

What’s all the stuff for, the machines, the tubes? This isn’t just a regular room… I must have been hit pretty badly…

Yeah. That’s right. I remember now, I think. Guys in a black and white… with guns… Hutch yellin’ for me to get down…

And that’s all. Can’t remember any more. Maybe I shouldn’t… But I feel like I’m gonna find out.

Hutch…wake up, huh? Tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s gonna happen to me… C’mere please? Hold me, tight, like you used to. I need you… need to grab hold and hang on with all my strength… but I don’t think I’ve got much of that right now.

God, it hurts… Please, Hutch…

Unhhh…

*****

The soft cry of pain woke Hutch instantly. He straightened in his chair, looking toward the bed. Starsky had wakened again. His eyes were open, filled with confusion and a terrible dread. Hutch knew at once that he needed reassurance, yet he felt completely lacking in his ability to provide it.

“Starsk?” He could barely make his voice work, but the desperate eyes turned to him right away. “Starsk, it’s gonna be okay…”

Starsky moaned again, the sound seemingly pulled out from deep inside his shattered body. Hutch checked his watch; it had only been an hour since the medication had been given to him. He glanced toward the nurse. She was still reading her Harlequin.

“He’s awake again, nurse,” Hutch called to her hoarsely. “Can you… give him anything?”

The woman rose and moved toward the bed where she examined the intravenous drip. She made a minor adjustment, then ran through a check on the other equipment, consulted the chart and made a notation. “That’s all we can give him at the moment,” she informed Hutch. Then she returned to her chair at the far side of the room.

Starsky’s eyes had grown big as platters, darting to follow the nurse’s movement. He took in the tubing and monitors, then his gaze travelled down toward his chest.

How much he could see, Hutch wasn’t sure, but he surmised he could at least see the bandages, and realize they concealed horrible injuries. That was only the tip of the iceberg, but it would be enough to terrify him.

Hutch knew he was right when the eyes returned to look at him. Starsky looked dazed, overwhelmed. And Hutch again felt impotent. He edged his chair a bit closer to the bedside and leaned toward his partner.

“Starsk, try to take it easy, now. You’re gonna be okay. I…” The words faded. I’m scared, too, almost slipped out, but he held his own fear in. It couldn’t be conquered, but it had to be contained. I want to hold you, his heart said in desperate need, make sure you’re really here, but I can’t… don’t dare… “Starsk, just please hang on.”

Pale lips trembled, parted, as if trying to speak. The blond could read the word hovering there, spoken breathlessly. “Hutch.” A slender hand let go of the bunched sheet, lifted, reached feebly for him.

 I won’t break, will I Hutch? Please, c’mere and hold me.

*****

Hutch looked from the reaching hand to the distressed blue eyes. They were brimming with moisture. They broke his heart.

He slid the chair nearer and with tender caution took the slim fingers in his hand. There was no strength in the answering grip, and Hutch shuddered, trying not to clamp down hard on them as his own fear threatened to inundate him.

He tried his voice again, murmuring past the tension in his throat. “I know you’re scared. Me, too. But you can pull through this, babe. You…you do wanta try, don’t you?”

Starsky blinked, allowing tears to trail down his cheeks. For his partner, seeing him hurt emotionally was as bad as witnessing the physical trauma. Hutch looked for a box of tissues, but there was none on the table, so he carefully brushed the tears away with his fingertips. His touch was light, meticulously gentle, but inside he was cursing himself for what he had said, fearing his words had scared Starsky more.

“I just…just mean I need you, partner. Don’t be afraid now. I’m gonna take good care of you, okay? Starsk…”

The frightened eyes were intent on his every word. What could he say, Hutch wondered desperately, that would help?

“I know it’s bad, Starsk. But rest easy now. I’m right here.” His voice descended to a whisper and Hutch leaned closer. “I love you.”

The warm hand he held tightened around his fingers. The grip was weak, but there was courage and life behind it.

“I do. For real. So you hang on, hear me? You gotta get better. There’s a whole lot of life out there we haven’t experienced yet. I want us to go through it together.”

He held Starsky’s gaze, knowing in his soul that this was one of life’s dearest moments, one to treasure, one that would change the nature of all the days to come. Whatever else happens, at least I told you…

He lifted his free hand to the side of Starsky’s face. The tense expression softened as if the touch soothed him, and Hutch went on to lightly stroke his cheek, his brow.

 That’s it. Touch me. It doesn’t hurt so bad when you touch me…

“I love you.”

–love you, too…