Take What You Can Get

Summary: It’s Christmas and Starsky wants a miracle or two. An answer to a 20 minute fic challenge using; Nurse, Suck

“How is he, David?”

Starsky looked up from Hutch’s bedside. He bent over to whisper in Hutch’s ear. “I’ll be back, babe. Not so long.” He ran his fingers over Hutch’s hot cheek. “I love you.”

He motioned for his mom to follow him from the hospital room.

“Ma.” His voice broke. “It’s not good. They say…”

She took his arm, led him down the hall to a seating area.

“Tell me.” She leaned forward, placed her hands on his knees.

Starsky covered them with his. “Pneumonia. From the…” He gestured at his throat. “The ventilator.” He shook his head. “I came through all Gunther…and we wanted this Christmas with you here in New York…and a goddamn drunk driver when we’re out for a walk.” He wiped at his eyes, furious.

“David,” she said. “You need to rest. Go back to the apartment. I can stay with Kenneth.”

“I can’t,” Starsky said. He clutched her hands tighter. “I can’t go. I have to…if he…and I’m not here.”

He stood, walked back down the hall. Nita—gray-haired, plump, efficient, was at Hutch’s bed, suctioning the tube. Starsky shivered. He hated it even though the nurses had told him Hutch wasn’t aware of it, that it wasn’t hurting him.

Nita finished her task and smiled at Starsky as he came back in the room. “He’s resting comfortably, and it looks like his fever is coming down a bit.” She did more—checked the IVs, the catheter, all the tasks Starsky knew had been done for him when he lay unaware months before.

Starsky nodded and sat down once again. The chair felt molded to his ass. He took Hutch’s hand, stroked it, not sure if Hutch felt it or not.

Too early to tell how much damage, too early to know if Hutch would walk again.

Hutch lay unmoving, drugged, sick.

“They said this is the mildest Christmas for years,” Starsky told him. “Remember you joked we should have a white Christmas? It’s the same temperature here as back home.” He cleared his throat. “Ma was here. You know that. Bet you heard her. She wants me to go home, get some sleep.”

Starsky looked up at the clock, watched the second hand sweep away the time. “I told her no.” He turned his attention back to Hutch. “I love you. You know that. I love you so fucking much, and I need…” He bent his head over Hutch’s hand, placed his left hand over Hutch’s heart and took a few deep breaths before lifting his head. “I’m with you, babe. No matter what, I’m with you.”

The second hand moved, the minute hand, the hour hand. Nita came and went as did Elena. His mom came in, sat by him, held his hand while he held Hutch’s.

It was two a.m. and something woke him from his drowsing state. He sat up straighter in fear. He pushed the call button, unsure why he should. Hutch’s face was pale and wet.

“His fever broke,” Nita announced, while Starsky thought he’d have a private nervous breakdown.

They shooed him from the room while they changed sheets and Hutch’s gown.

He stood in the hall, dizzy with relief. They’d been given one miracle. Was another too much to hope for?

“David,” Nita called.

Starsky ran in the room, heart pounding.

“He’s squeezing my hand,” Elena said. “Here.”

She stepped aside as Starsky took her place and slipped his hand into Hutch’s.

“Hutch?”

Strong pressure closed around his fingers.

“You with me?”

Two quick squeezes. Starsky sank on the chair, brought Hutch’s hand to his and kissed it.

He wasn’t sure if they’d used up their share of miracles, but he’d take this one for now.