It’s Only Allergies

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Hutch is back at work after his brush with the plague. A couple of weeks later, he starts sneezing and coughing.

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Hutch was back at work.

A simple sentence to say. An ordinary thing to happen. But the words didn’t tell the story behind; they didn’t tell of the long recovery from the Plague that had nearly ended his life. On his first day back, colleagues had greeted him with smiles and handshakes and Dobey had harrumphed a greeting and then gone to wipe at suspiciously wet eyes.

And Starsky? Starsky was giving thanks every second as they sat down together at their desks. He was still looking a little tired himself from caring for his partner for several weeks. When a colleague asked Hutch how he was doing, Hutch said that he felt like himself again. Starsky was glad to hear it but that didn’t stop him watching his partner like a hawk to make sure he didn’t overdo it.

Two weeks later, the days were back to the usual routines of answering calls, arresting suspects and writing up reports. Starsky began to relax and Hutch felt like life had returned to normal. He jogged down the stairs and out to Starsky’s waiting car. As he went to get in he sneezed loudly then blew his nose.

“Oh! The weather report said the pollen would be high today. Great, just great!”

Starsky chuckled. “Small price to pay for good weather.”

“Easy for you to say,” Hutch grouched.

Starsky picked up the mic with his free hand.

“Dispatch, Zebra Three here, me and Sneezy are on duty.”

“Copy that, Zebra Three…and Guzundheit!”

Hutch rolled his eyes then sneezed again. Starsky bit his lip to keep from laughing.

The radio burst into life as the Dispatch Officer said, “Zebra Three. Possible sighting of Harry Lerner at the Bay City Racecourse. Information from a Trainer called Smith.”

“Roger that. We’ll head straight over.”

Hutch groaned.

“What?”

“Horses mean hay. Hay means sneezing because my allergies are playing up.”

Starsky tried to be supportive. “You could always tie a handkerchief over your face.”

“And look like a bandit?!”

Starsky chuckled.

“What’s Lerner doing back at the track? He knows he’s a wanted man.”

“Just can’t keep away from the horses, I guess.”

Once at the racecourse, they went to find Smith, who told them that he’d seen Lerner hanging around the stables, looking at the horses being settled in ready for the races happening the next day. The two of them split up so they could cover each end of the stables and hopefully catch Lerner between them.

Hutch spotted him first. The small, brown haired man was peering into a stable and making clicking noises at the horse. Hutch could see Starsky at the other end of the stables and waved to him, indicating he’d spotted their quarry. Hutch crept up quietly and then tapped Lerner on the shoulder.

“Harry, Harry, Harry. Long time no see.”

Lerner spun around and grimaced at Hutch. Then he suddenly dashed away, saw Starsky and skidded to a halt. He span around, looking frantic.

“Come on, Harry. You got no place-hhh-hhh.”

Hutch’s frame was suddenly wracked by a cough and he couldn’t finish his sentence. He grabbed at Lerner as he tried to get past him and held on long enough for Starsky to catch up to them and take Lerner into custody.

“You got him?” Hutch wheezed.

“Yeah, you’d better get out of here. You weren’t kidding about your allergies,” Starsky said with mild concern.

Hutch nodded and rapidly made his way away from the stables and over to Starsky’s car. He say heavily in the passenger seat, feeling inexplicably tired and wrestled some allergy pills out of a packet he kept in his jacket pocket. He chomped on the pills and wished he had some water. He’d have to wait until they got back to the precinct. He coughed again and felt his chest tighten. He closed his eyes and tried to breath shallowly.

Starsky arrived with Lerner in tow and shoved him into the back of the car then got in.

“You okay?”

Hutch nodded then coughed. Starsky informed Dispatch they had Lerner under arrest and then started the engine. As he drove he kept a surreptitious eye on his partner. Hutch pretended not to notice and tried to keep from coughing.

They were almost at the precinct when Hutch had to give in and coughed loudly and persistently. He grabbed his handkerchief and coughed up phlegm into it.

“Gross!” said Lerner.

“Shut up!” Starsky said. “You all right, partner.”

“Mmm,” Hutch said non-commitally, coughed and gave a small groan of pain.

They turned into the precinct’s car lot and Starsky turned the engine off. He leapt out and attracted the attention of two uniformed officers and asked them to take Lerner into booking. Then he jumped back in the car. Hutch was coughing into his handkerchief again.

“Hutch? The truth. How bad do you feel?”

Hutch went to speak, stopped and then said, “Not too good.”

They looked at each other with worried eyes.

“You think this has something to do with…?” Hutch trailed off and coughed again.

“Could be. Hopefully not. Let’s get you checked out anyway.”

Before Hutch could argue, Starsky started the engine and headed away from the precinct towards the hospital. He quickly informed the Dispatch Officer where they were going and then gunned the engine.

“Slow down, Gordo. Hhh-hhh. Wanna get there in one piece!”

Starsky slowed but only a little.

At the emergency department, Starsky quickly explained Hutch’s symptoms and about Hutch’s recent brush with the Plague. They were told to wait but it wasn’t long before a doctor came and took them along to a treatment room. He was new to them but thorough.

Starsky stayed as close as he could without getting in the way, hearing Hutch’s breathing deteriorating and thinking, “Not again. Please not again.”

When Hutch looked at him, he tried to look reassuring but he couldn’t hide the anxiety in his eyes. Hutch nodded. He felt the same anxious knots in the pit of his stomach.

The doctor stepped back and smiled reassuringly, “What we have here is a case of pneumonia. We’ll get you started on antibiotics, keep you in overnight and then you can go home. Lots of rest, lots of liquids, finish the course and you’ll be fine in no time.”

They both blinked at him.

“Pneumonia? You’re sure?” Starsky queried. “Can it come on that quick? It’s not like he’s had a cold or anything.”

The doctor nodded. “Usually there’s a slow development but in some cases it can progress quickly from nowhere. Given Detective Hutchinson’s weakened immune system it’s not really a surprise but I assure you, you will be fine, Detective. I’ll get those antibiotics ordered and get a room assigned.”

He headed out. The two of them looked at each other again, smiling weakly.

“Pneumonia.”

“Hhh-pneumonia-hhh.”

“Ssh, save your breath.”

A nurse appeared with a wheelchair and said briskly, “Detective Hutchinson, let’s get you admitted.”

Reluctantly, Hutch got in the chair and allowed himself to be pushed along the corridors to a room. Starsky followed, wiping at his face to relieve the stress he was feeling. The nurse got Hutch settled and then the doctor reappeared with a drip and hooked Hutch up to it.

“It’s a faster way to get the antibiotics working. Once this lot is in, we’ll put you on oral antibiotics.”

Hutch grimaced but nodded. He could feel he had a slight fever brewing and he was still coughing. He hoped the antibiotics wouldn’t take long to work.

As the doctor left, Starsky pulled the chair up to the bedside and sat down.

“You should go. Back to work. Then home,” Hutch spluttered in between coughs.

Starsky shook his head. “I’m staying till we know the antibiotics are doing their thing.”

Hutch went to protest but saw the look in Starsky’s eyes. He nodded and held out his hand. Starsky gave it a squeeze.

“You gotta stop scaring me, ya big lug. I don’t think my nerves can take it.”

Hutch gave him a look that spoke volumes and Starsky nodded back. Then they settled in for the wait: Hutch resting to build up his strength; Starsky resting to get ready to look after his partner for a day or two until he was fully fit.