Good News

235

Hutch is recuperating in the hospital after the events of Survival and is having recurring nightmares. Did they save his leg?

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“No…NO! Bobby…my God….”

The voice was quiet but anguished. Starsky went over to his partner and patted his right shoulder gently. “Hutch…Hutch….It’s ok. You’re in the hospital.”

The blond’s eyes fluttered open, unseeing. His eyes filled, but the tears did not spill over.

“It’s ok….” Starsky patted his partner’s cheek, letting his hand rest there. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry…sorry….”

“You’re sorry? That’s supposed to be my line. Took me so damn long to find you. Why didn’t ya call in to say where ya were going? You gave me such a scare when I saw you lying there….” He swallowed, unable to continue this one-sided conversation. Even now, with Hutch safe in a hospital bed, he couldn’t put all his fears into words. Words weren’t his thing. He gave his friend’s cheek one more pat and then returned to his chair.

By then the other man was asleep again, the tight lines around his eyes and mouth relaxed.

Starsky leaned back to wait for his partner’s next brief period of wakefulness. The next thing he knew, a nurse was shaking his shoulder.

“Mr. Starsky, wake up. Visiting hours are over.”

“Humph.” He yawned and stretched, trying to get the kinks out of his back. “Already?”

“Yes. In fact, it’s after 9:00. You should go home and get some sleep tonight.”

He looked up at S. Powell – Susan – and gave her a tired smile. “Naw. Always hang around when he’s in the hospital. Just easier.”

“For who?” She leaned down, unintentionally giving him a nice view. “He’s going to need a lot of help when he goes home to recuperate. How are you going to help him if you’re exhausted yourself?”

“I’ll be ok. Once he’s out of here, we’ll both feel better. But tell me…shouldn’t he be awake more often by now? He’s done nothing but sleep since he came out of ICU.”

“He has complained a lot about pain. Let me see his chart.”

Susan went to the foot of Hutch’s bed and scanned the pages.

“Yes, he’s being medicated pretty consistently…more than average for a young man in good health before the accident. I’ll make a note in his chart for Dr. Cummings on his rounds tomorrow.”

“Thanks. He got really whacked on the head…” Starsky counted backwards, “…five days ago. Could that be part of it?”

“Did he go to the hospital for observation?”

“Nope.”

Susan sighed. “I’ll make another note in the chart. Dr. Cummings might want to doublecheck the X-rays for other head trauma. Is there anything else he should know about Mr. Hutchinson’s health?”

Starsky ignored the pounding of his heart and hoped Susan would, too, or attribute it to her pleasant nearness.

 “Ah…no…nothin’.” He lied. Damn! Don’t let him have an increased tolerance for pain medication after that trouble with Monk’s dope! It could all still come out…could still ruin his career.

“Are you all right? You look pale.” Expertly, her cool hand reached for his wrist to check his pulse.

He captured her hand in both of his. “I’m fine…really. I just need to get something to eat. Can you stay here for a sec while I grab somethin’ from the machines?”

“I have to check to see that the other visitors have left, but after I do that, I can come back here.”

“Thanks, Schweetheart,” he smiled, giving her his best Bogie imitation. “What’s your favorite junk food?”

She shook her head. “I only eat a macrobiotic diet.”

“Oh, well…. You and my partner there don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll be back real soon.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Starsky sauntered down the 4th floor corridor, back toward his friend’s room. He had to admit to himself that he was bushed. He had looked for Hutch almost nonstop for the two days he was missing and then had spent most of his off-duty time at the hospital. If he went home soon, he could get 8 hours of sleep…what a luxury!

“Help me…please…somebody…Starsk…help me!”

The voice was muffled by the door, but the cries gave him goosebumps. He bent down, dropping his soda and candy bar, and straightened up with his gun drawn in the ‘ready’ position. He flattened himself against the wall next to Hutch’s room. Far down the corridor, he saw Susan checking rooms. Good. That means she’s not in there to be a possible hostage. Hutch had lucked out and had a double room all to himself. At least that’s the way it had been when he left.

“Oh, God…no…please…Starsk…please help me!”

He swallowed once and then burst into the room. Hutch lay there, hands twitching constantly, face contorted and wet with tears. Other than his partner, the room was empty. So was the john, as a quick check confirmed. Starsky holstered his gun and went over to his partner.

“Hey…Hutch, I’m here. It’s ok now. Wake up.”

“Oh….” he moaned, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Need a pill…” he mumbled.

Starsky clasped his friend’s fingers with his right hand and reached over to push the nurse’s bell with his left. “It’s ok. The nurse will be here soon. Wake up, Hutch.”

Hutch’s eyes opened slowly, and he blinked several times, sending more tears down his cheeks. “Starsk,” he breathed, tightening his grip on his partner’s hand. “Stay…please.” He turned away, brushing his left hand over his eyes.

“Sure, buddy. I just went down to get somethin’ to eat. I’m right here, and I’ll stay right here all night.”

“Been waiting for you….”

“Yes?” Susan opened the door and stuck her head inside the room.

“He needs another pill.”

“Not yet…got to talk to you, Starsk.”

Susan entered the room and walked over to the monitors at the head of the bed. Scanning the tapes, she shook her head. “Elevated heart rate and respiration. For someone with two broken ribs, a bruised liver, and a ruptured spleen, that’s not good. I’ll get you more pain medication because you do need to be quiet and get your rest. And look here, your IV’s come loose.” She reattached the tube and retaped it. After making another note on the chart, she left.

“What’s wrong, buddy? You’ve been gulping down pills like they’re M & M’s. Did you tell the doctor about the pain?”

His partner’s face was still turned away. It was a couple of moments before he answered. “No…never saw him. Must have been out of it.”

“I’ll say. Most of the time I’ve been here, you’ve been asleep, no matter what time it was.”

“Knew you had to be here…but I never saw you, either. And I’ve been waiting for you.” He finally turned back to the dark haired man. “Tell me the truth.”

Starsky nodded, wondering what had so upset his friend.

“My leg….” Hutch licked his lips before he continued. “Is it still there? Can I still use it?”

These were such easy questions that Starsky grinned. “Sure it’s still there. Didn’t ya look?”

Hutch sighed slowly, as if it hurt. “No…didn’t want to in case it was gone. If my life was ruined….” He broke off and looked away again.

Starsky gently patted his partner’s shoulder. “But it isn’t…not unless you count having to ride around in my car from now on as being fatal to your image.”

That brought a weak smile. “Then mine’s totaled?”

“Flatter’n a pancake.” His remark brought not another smile, as intended, but a grimace. “Do you want your pill now?”

The blond opened his eyes and shook his head. His eyes filled again.

“What’s wrong? What’s tearing you up?” he asked softly.

“Not me…Bobby…his leg…. There was so much blood…more than I’d seen before…and I couldn’t do anything for him.”

“Whoa! Back up. Who’s Bobby? Was there someone else out there in the canyon?”

After a couple of minutes where Hutch’s labored breathing and the clicking of the machines were the only sounds in the room, he began gasping out his story. “Back in high school…Bobby Dvorachik was the star quarterback. Football scholarship to the University of Michigan…he was all set. The summer before we all went off to college, a thresher caught his leg…. I found him…. I’d gone over there to talk to him…something. Don’t know how long he’d been like that, but shock had set in…. He lost everything…his education…didn’t marry Marta…his whole future – gone. I keep seeing him…thinking about him…. It’s really still there?”

“Absolutely. Here, let me help you see it for yourself.”

Slowly and carefully, Starsky raised his friend’s head so that he could see he still had both legs.

“And it’ll be ok?”

“I just said so, didn’t I?” He lowered Hutch’s head and pushed the call button. Reaching for some tissues, he wiped his partner’s face. He leaned over the bed and held Hutch’s head in both hands, looking him straight in the eye. “When I say it’s ok, then it’s ok. You got that?”

“Yeah.”

Almost as soon as the word escaped his lips, Hutch was asleep.

Susan entered with two capsules in a small cup. She looked over her patient and then smiled. “You do good work, Sergeant.”

He grinned. “No charge, either. Now ya see why it’s easier for me to just stay here? Better all ’round.”

She shrugged. “As long as the Nursing Supervisor doesn’t see you. Oh, yes, and get your junk food out of the corridor where it could attract bugs – ok?”

“Sure. Left it there when I heard him calling me.”

“When was that?”

“Little while ago. I thought someone was after him, but it was just a bad dream.”

Susan looked at him a moment before nodding. “Yes, I think he’s had several of those.”

“When?”

“Before you get here at night.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What could you have done?”

Starsky collapsed into the chair, suddenly tired. “Dunno. I think I know what they were about. He thought he’d lost his leg or that it was ruined.”

“He came very close to losing it. The surgical team did a fantastic job. Another hour and they couldn’t have saved it.”

“He was lucky, then.”

She smiled. “I’d say he is lucky. Now get your stuff.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her and went to retrieve his goodies. Once back in Hutch’s room, he leaned back in the chair and took a long sip of his soda. His Milky Way was stale from sitting in the machine, but that didn’t matter. He had to find another junker car for Hutch to drive. That would  cheer up his partner. Starsky reached for the newspaper he had discarded earlier that evening, began skimming the used car section, and smiled.