On the Road to Starsky Normal

72

Starsky catches a bug soon after being cleared for duty. Hutch works to help him feel better.

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“I can’t, Hutch,” Starsky said as he leaned back heavily into the couch.

“No, none of that buddy. I need you to try.” Hutch had been goading his partner for a while, trying to get him to eat some more soup. He’d been sidelined with a vicious stomach flu just a few weeks following his return to full active duty after the Gunther shooting. Hutch found his partner curled up on his sofa for the third day in a row, feeling slightly warm and looking altogether miserable.

“I don’t wanna,” Starsky whined, pushing Hutch’s arm away and making the blond drip a fair portion of the chicken soup on the floor, the coffee table, and both his and his partner’s laps.

“Okay, okay. Look, you have to eat. You haven’t gained all the weight back from your surgeries and this not eating is going to put you further behind.” Hutch looked his friend in the eyes, unable to hide the concern he felt. He knew that Starsky was lucky to get the approval to return to active status, and they both knew it was contingent on him getting back to his regular weight before the annual department physical in four months.

“I know. I just, I feel like I’ve been throwin’ up for a week. This ain’t gonna stay down. I don’t see the point, ya know?” Starsky was tired and sick and unhappy and Hutch knew he needed to find something he could get his friend to eat and keep down. It would just take longer to recuperate from this illness if he allowed Starsky to continue to refuse food.

“All right. Why don’t you lie back and nap for a while. I’m going to run out and take care of a couple of things. I’ll be back in a while. Maybe you’ll feel like trying something then. How’s that sound?” Hutch had an idea of what he might be able to do to help his friend get some nutrients in his body and make him feel better at the same time. But he had to go to the store for some provisions to make this happen.

“Okay. But I don’t think I’ll be able to eat later either, Hutch.” Starsky curled up again, cradling one pillow tight as he sighed sadly and rested his head tiredly into another one.

Hutch watched his partner briefly before leaving the apartment. Starsky had been through so much these last months. The pain and shock of the shooting and the unbearably difficult recovery would have broken a lesser man. But Hutch watched as his friend accomplished what the doctors said would be a miracle—a return to active duty. There was no way Hutch was going to let this bug that had been haunting Starsky these last few days get the better of his friend.

* * * *

Hutch came back to find Starsky sound asleep. He seemed to be resting comfortably; the first time the blond had seen that in a few days. Hutch leaned down and lightly touched his friend’s forehead. He seemed cool enough—Hutch was glad for that.

He headed to the kitchen and started to prepare the special meal that he figured his sick, and hopefully, finally, hungry partner would be ready for when he woke up. Hutch knew that Starsky was just being difficult earlier. The bug had been making its way around the precinct and most people were getting over it in a few days. Starsky was just being overly cautious, Hutch decided, and expected his partner might be easily convinced to eat one of his favorite meals, even if he only downed a little of it.

A few hours later the enticing aromas coming from the kitchen woke the curly headed patient on the couch. He sat up, looking tired and just a little rumpled.

“You’re up. How do you feel?” Hutch asked, knowing the answer from his previously completed inspection.

“A little better.” Starsky started to get up, but before he could get very far Hutch asked, “Where ya going?”

“The john. Is that okay, Dr. Hutchinson?” Starsky asked as he headed to the bathroom.

“Are you feeling sick?” Hutch asked, walking quickly from the kitchen to help his friend.

“Nah,” Starsky said as he put his hand up to halt his partner’s progress. “Nature calls. I’m feelin’ better Blondie. Don’t worry so much,” Starsky continued as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

But Hutch would worry, Starsky knew. There was nothing he could do about that. He was definitely feeling better and decided he would give some food a try, if only to help ease his partner’s worried look. As he glanced up into the mirror after drying his hands, he saw the gaunt face looking back at him and understood why his partner would be so concerned. He had hoped that he’d gotten past all the long weeks and months of pain, feeling sick, and the exhausting rehabilitation. The face looking back at him reminded him of that face from a few months ago. He was sick of that face. He lowered his head and sighed heavily. And then he felt the warm touch on his neck, the comforting hand of the person who helped him make it through all those difficult months. He looked up in the mirror again and saw behind him the smiling face of his best friend, and felt the reassuring comfort in that touch.

“Hey,” Starsky said as he smiled back at his partner in the mirror.

“Hey yourself. Something wrong, buddy?” Hutch knew his partner was feeling down. He could feel the tension in Starsky’s neck and hoped he could provide some comfort with the brief massage, but even more he hoped that Starsky would open up and talk about what was worrying him. Hutch was pretty sure he knew the problem, but he had always felt that talking things through was the healthy way to deal with problems.

“I—uh,” Starsky started, but the words caught in his throat. He turned to leave the bathroom, but Hutch grabbed him on both arms and stopped his advance back into the living room. Starsky barreled past, knowing he was in no shape to discuss his feelings just then without breaking down. And breaking down was not something he felt he could do in front of Hutch. Not now. Hutch had been with him day and night for weeks and weeks, coaxing and comforting, keeping him on target for the goal that even Starsky wasn’t convinced he’d be able to achieve. His partner had been the taskmaster, the nurturer and the cheerleader throughout his recovery. He had already asked more of his friend than he should have, and leaning on him again now seemed at the very least unfair. It felt wrong.

Hutch thought he heard a gasp, or maybe it was a sob as Starsky rushed past him to the living room. He followed quickly, wanting to see what he could do to soothe his partner’s pain.

“Starsk,” Hutch said as he sat next to him on the couch, “talk to me.”

Starsky looked up at the worried countenance of his partner. Hutch saw the tears begin, and then watched as his friend deteriorated before his eyes; quiet weeping threatening to break out into so much more. It broke Hutch’s heart to see Starsky in such pain, but he knew this was something that was bound to happen. Starsky had been so strong and steady throughout his recovery; Hutch never recalled once when Starsky cried about what had happened to him. An occasional tear as he suffered through the pain of healing and rehab, but that was all. He knew that Starsky had never really dealt with the psychological effects of what happened to him. He thought it unhealthy then and hoped this episode was the start of a healing process that would allow Starsky to truly fully recover from the shooting.

“Hey, hey,” Hutch said as he brought his arm around Starsky’s neck and pulled him into a tight hug. “Come on, it’s okay.” Hutch continued his attempts to soothe his partner, embracing tightly the person who meant the most to him in his life.

Starsky continued to let out the months of pent up anguish he had kept hidden for so long. He felt like he would not be able to stop crying, but the love and support he was receiving from Hutch’s embrace eased the distressed man more than anything else possibly could. He felt the anger over what had happened to him, and he felt the fear; the fear of many things, but mostly the fear of not being able to carry his weight and cover his partner on the streets and the disappointment in his own body’s weakness. But the longer he held tight to his partner, he felt the anger and fear and disappointment evaporate in Hutch’s touch. The tension in his body left and he eased further into his best friend’s embrace.

The partners continued hugging, Hutch providing and Starsky accepting the consoling embrace for some time. Starsky pulled away first. Hutch noticed that his partner looked a little embarrassed, and he began to tell him that everything would be all right when Starsky spoke over his words, “Sorry.”

They both laughed a little, and Hutch said, “Don’t be. I’m glad you finally let it out.”

Starsky smiled at the blond smiling back at him. “I guess I’m not as healed as I thought.”

“Hmm. Well, you’ll never be fully right up here,” Hutch pointed to his head. “But we’ll work on getting you back to Starsky-normal, okay?”

“Very funny, Blintz,” Starsky replied. He wiped the tears from his face with both hands.

“It’s not hard with you around,” Hutch returned.

“Boy, you’re really askin’ for it aren’t ya, Blondie.” Hutch walked back to the kitchen, Starsky following behind. “Is that smell what I think it is?” Starsky asked as he washed his hands at the kitchen sink.

“Yep. The Paul Muni special. Hungry, Gordo?” Hutch asked.

Starsky looked at Hutch and shook his head in wonder and gratitude. And he had the sudden realization that he needed to get better, emotionally as well as physically, so that this amazing partnership and friendship could continue, hopefully stronger than ever. He also knew that Hutch would want to start the cleansing tonight, which he would be glad to do. But first things first.

“Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

The End