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"Hutch, hurry up, will ya? You're makin' me nervous up there." Starsky held the ladder in a death grip as he looked up at his partner, worry clouding his eyes. The two men were installing a ceiling fan and given Hutch's general clumsiness, Starsky had an uneasy feeling that the project was not going to end well.
"Starsk, you wanted this house because of the high ceilings. Since you won't get up on a ladder, anything that's done to these ceilings is going to mean I have to get up on a ladder, so you might as well get used to it."
"Well, hurry up. It gives me the willies." Starsky swallowed nervously.
"For God's sake, Starsky, it's a six foot ladder," Hutch chided. "Hey, remember that time we had to chase that weirdo around on that radio tower? Now that was something to get nervous about."
"Yeah, thanks. I needed to remember that right now." Starsky knew his partner was only trying to divert his attention from their current situation.
"What was his name? Captain Jim?"
"Commander Jim. Quit yappin' and finish the thing already," Starsky grumbled. "My neck's sore from looking up at you."
"Don't look up at me then."
"Can't stop; this view is spectacular. Do you realize how short those shorts are?" Starsky shifted his stance for a better look. His eyes traveled up the backs of Hutch's thighs, coming to rest at the demarcation between the golden tan of lower thigh and the pale creaminess above it. Fingers pulling his hair made him look up at his partner.
"Hey, focus on the ladder right now, Romeo. Worry about the shorts later." Hutch smiled down at his partner, the promise in his eyes turning Starsky's knees to jelly.
"Just finish the damned thing, will ya? Watching you up there is making me a nervous wreck." Starsky tried to sound irritated, but his words lacked conviction. With the distraction of the long, bare legs in front of him providing fuel for his vivid imagination, his mind was lost in future possibilities.
The sudden jostling of the ladder brought Starsky abruptly back to the present. Scrambling to reassert his grip, he looked up to find Hutch holding onto the ceiling fan with one hand and shaking the ladder with the other, an amused grin lighting his face.
"April Fool," Hutch teased, laughing at Starsky's panicked expression.
"What are you doing, you idiot?" Starsky gasped. He took a deep breath before continuing. "That wasn't funny, Hutch."
"Sorry. Just a little April Fools' Day joke. Didn't mean to scare you." Hutch reached down and gently ruffled Starsky's hair. "But I wish you could have seen the look on your face."
"Well, it wasn't funny. Besides, it's not even April yet," Starsky groused.
"Okay, I'm a day early. So shoot me."
"Don't think the thought didn't cross my mind. What'd you do that for?"
"If you'd been paying attention, you'd know I've been trying to get you to hand me the light cover. We're almost done here. " Hutch lowered his hand expectantly.
"What light cover?" Starsky's eyes cast about the cluttered room.
"Big white globe thing. Covers the light bulb." Hutch snapped his fingers impatiently.
"I don't see it. You sure it was in the box?" Starsky asked.
Hutch rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure it was in the box. I took it out myself and washed it. See if it's in the kitchen."
"I'll have to let go of the ladder." Starsky's expression clearly showed that he didn't think that was such a good idea.
"C'mon. I'm sure I'll be fine way up here by myself for the ten seconds it takes you to go to the kitchen and back. Unless, of course, we get a hurricane-force wind through here or something." Hutch smiled mockingly at his partner. "Hurry up. It's one-thirty. The ballgame starts at two. I never should have let you and that guy at the hardware store talk me into this."
"What are you complaining about? You just said we're almost done."
"Yeah, and what you two bozos said would take fifteen minutes has now taken over an hour. Hurry up, will ya? My back's killing me."
"Okay, don't move." Starsky hurried to the kitchen and quickly spotted the light cover on the counter. "Got it...hey, did it occur to you to dry it, dummy? Hutch? Ignoring me won't get me back in there any faster."
Returning to the room drying the light cover on his pant leg, Starsky didn't notice the overturned ladder until he was almost on top of it. His stomach lurched when he realized that Hutch was on the floor underneath the ladder. "Hutch...."
Tossing the ladder aside, Starsky knelt next to his partner. He reached out to gently shake Hutch's shoulder. "Hutch, you okay? Can you hear me?" Belatedly, Starsky realized he shouldn't be shaking Hutch until he knew what was wrong.
Using what little information he could recall from his first-aid training, Starsky tried to assess Hutch's condition but was stymied by the lack of evidence. His partner's breathing was normal, there was no sign of blood, and nothing appeared to be broken as far as he could tell. If it weren't for the fact that he'd found Hutch crumpled under an overturned ladder, he'd swear Hutch was just sleeping. Or faking.
"Hutch, if this is your stupid idea of another April Fools' joke, it's nowhere close to funny." Starsky carefully watched his partner's face for a reaction. Hutch wouldn't let a joke go on too long if he detected true fear in Starsky's voice. Would he? Starsky wasn't so sure. His partner had an iron will when it came to stuff like this.
Starsky leaned down until his mouth rested against Hutch's ear and let loose a piercing whistle. Hutch never flinched. Acting almost reflexively, Starsky snagged a glass of water from the coffee table and threw it in Hutch's face, fully expecting Hutch to sputter and jump up. The truth finally set in when Hutch's eyes remained closed.
"Oh shit. You aren't faking." Starsky scrambled for the phone. After giving the emergency operator the necessary information, he pulled an afghan from the sofa and tucked it around his partner, somewhat sheepishly using the corner of it to pat Hutch's face dry. And then there was nothing for him to do except wait.
Starsky covered Hutch's hand with his own and applied the slightest pressure – just enough to let Hutch know he was there. "Hey, Blondie, now would be a good time to open your eyes and call me an 'April Fool.' I'll laugh; I swear I will. No paybacks either." After a few seconds had passed, he tried again. "C'mon, Hutch. Joke's over. Okay?"
Eternal minutes passed before Starsky finally heard the wail of distant sirens. Relief washed over him and he patted Hutch's hand. "Hear that, Hutch? Last chance. The paramedics are here. They're gonna make a big fuss over you. You're probably gonna have to ride in the ambulance and you know how you hate that. C'mon, Hutch, April Fools time."
When the ultimate threat – fuss and bother – didn't rouse his partner, Starsky finally accepted what he'd really known since he had first found his partner sprawled on the floor: Hutch wasn't faking. He hadn't moved so much as an eyelash since Starsky found him. This wasn't a bad April Fools' joke; this was real.
Starsky heard the sirens draw closer and he suspected that it would be some time before the two of them enjoyed any privacy. He gently rubbed the back of his hand along Hutch's cheek and whispered, "I love you, Hutch."
A squeal of tires signaled the arrival of the ambulance. Starsky leaned over and brushed his lips across Hutch's forehead. "Did you hear me, Hutch? I love you. Might not be able to say it for awhile."
After a cursory knock on the front door, two paramedics entered the room. Starsky was relieved to see that he knew both men. Evans and Lawson had been partners on the rescue squad almost as long as he and Hutch had been together. The paramedic duo had been called to the scene on several occasions when Starsky or Hutch, or both, were hurt. Over the years, the foursome had developed an easy camaraderie.
As the paramedics crossed the room, Starsky glanced up at Evans, stating the obvious. "It's Hutch."
"Thanks, Starsky. I had figured that out already since he's lying on the floor with his eyes closed and you're sitting here beside him." Though Evans spoke in a joking manner, Starsky noticed that the paramedic's eyes hadn't left Hutch since he walked into the room. Evans didn't waste any time asking Starsky to move. He simply crouched down beside him and began to examine Hutch. "Any idea why he's unconscious?"
"I don't know. You being a trained medical professional and all, I was hopin' you would tell me." Starsky couldn't keep the irritation from creeping into his voice.
Evans ignored Starsky's tone and continued his questioning. "You weren't here when he went down?"
"Not in here, no. Hutch was up on the ladder waiting for me to bring him the light cover for the fan. I was only gone a few seconds and when I came back, he was just like this." In Starsky's mind, the events replayed in slow motion. "Oh, except the ladder was on top of him."
As he fastened the blood pressure cuff, Lawson asked, "How long ago did you find him? Has he been out the whole time?"
"Yeah, the whole time." Starsky looked at his watch and saw that it was a few minutes before two o'clock. He remembered Hutch saying something about having only a half-hour before the ballgame started. "It's been about thirty minutes, give or take."
Applying a cervical collar to Hutch's neck, Evans suddenly began patting the neckline of Hutch's shirt. "Why's his shirt wet?"
"Oh, um, he must've knocked over a glass of water or something." Starsky looked away and tried to shrug nonchalantly, but he heard Evans snort.
"You panicked and threw water on him, didn't you?" The blush spreading across Starsky's face was proof enough for Evans to continue. "You moron, that never works. You've been watching too many movies."
"Just shut up and worry about Hutch." Starsky snapped, not really registering that Evans was only trying to distract him while Lawson radioed in their report. "What's wrong with him?"
"Offhand, I'd say it has something to do with this big knot on the side of his head. What I don't know is if he passed out before he fell, or if the fall caused him to lose consciousness. My guess is the klutz fell off the ladder and hit his head on this table. But that's just my guess. We'll let the doctors figure it out."
A simple nod from Lawson told Evans that they could prepare Hutch for transport. Gently nudging Starsky aside, the paramedics made quick work of getting Hutch onto a backboard and then to the stretcher. Lawson packed away the equipment while Evan secured the straps on the stretcher.
Watching Evans anchor Hutch's arms inside one set of straps, effectively pinning Hutch's arms, Starsky warned, "He wakes up with those straps like that, he's gonna be pissed."
"I know," replied Evans. "But the last time we transported him, he came to on the ride in and tried to choke me."
Starsky paled as the memory of that event rushed in on him, intensifying his concern for Hutch's present condition. He hadn't wanted to admit it at the time, but he'd been a little worried on that ambulance ride when Hutch had regained consciousness with fists flying. Hutch had only stopped fighting after finally recognizing Starsky's voice in his ear. "He didn't know where he was, Ev. He calmed down when he figured out who we were."
"Yeah, well when he comes around this time, I'll move the straps, but not until then."
Despite his objection to the straps, Starsky was heartened to hear Evans use the word 'when' rather than 'if'. That must mean Hutch wasn't so bad off. In fact, now that he thought about it, that other time had turned out okay, too, just like all the other times before it. The doctors made Hutch lie around the hospital for a few hours and then sent him home for Starsky to baby-sit for twenty-four hours--except that last time the doctor had told Starsky to watch Hutch for forty-eight hours. Still, everything turned out fine then, so surely this time would be the same.
"Hey, you gonna daydream or are you coming to the hospital with us?" Starsky looked up to see that the paramedics were lifting Hutch's stretcher and moving towards the door.
"What can I do?" he asked Evans.
"Grab those two cases and lock the door behind you. We're on our way."
Starsky quickly grabbed the two remaining satchels and made a beeline for the door.
He paused before pulling the door closed behind him and turned to scan the room for anything left behind. It didn't seem possible that less than an hour before, it had been a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon. They had both been looking forward to watching the ballgame, partially for the sport itself but mostly for the fun they had making lewd comments about the players. Hutch liked to hide behind an air of sophistication with his ballet and his music, but after four or five beers on a lazy Saturday afternoon, Hutch could get just as randy as the next guy. Sometimes it seemed like Hutch was two different people, and Starsky loved that -- loved both men equally: the one that got misty-eyed listening to some fat lady with a mustache sing opera and the one that could name seven baldly vulgar things for Reggie Jackson to do with his bat.
"Starsky!" Lawson's voice interrupted Starsky's thoughts. Sighing at just how quickly the day had turned upside down, Starsky pulled the door closed and ran to the waiting ambulance.
The ride to the hospital passed in a blur, each minute stretching endlessly into another. Starsky passed the time making sure Hutch's blanket was straight and that the straps holding his wrists weren't too tight. He simply didn't know what else to do.
"Talk to him," Evans ordered, turning to make notes on a chart.
"Huh?" Firmly entrenched in his worry, Starsky hadn't heard what the other man said.
"Talk to him. You know the drill: he might be able to hear you, might not. But you'll feel a whole lot better." Evans smiled and returned to his paperwork.
Starsky straightened the blanket again, leaving one hand on Hutch's chest and rubbing his arm with the other. "Hey Blondie, you still with us? We got lucky, buddy. We got Evans and Lawson again. Ev's still a little sore about you trying to deck him last time we rode with them, but he's taking good care of you."
Starsky continued an endless stream of meaningless conversation until a series of quick turns told him that the ambulance was nearing the emergency room. He patted Hutch's cheek. "C'mon, show us those baby blue eyes. Last chance before the doctors get hold of you." Hutch was as still and silent as the moment Starsky found him.
As soon as the ambulance jolted to a stop, the doors were jerked open and Hutch was whisked out into a swarm of waiting attendants. Starsky was all but ignored during the transfer of information from the paramedics to the emergency room staff. It was hard to follow all the jargon, but no one on the receiving end of the information seemed unduly alarmed, which Starsky took as a good sign.
"How did he get wet?" asked a pale, geeky-looking kid, whom Starsky swore was no older than sixteen. He vowed then and there that if this kid touched Hutch, he'd shoot him where he stood. Well, he would if he had his gun.
Choking back a chuckle, Evans said simply, "I knocked over a glass of water trying to get to him." He turned and winked at Starsky, before disappearing through a set of double doors marked 'ER Personnel Only.'
A nurse grabbed Starsky's arm before he could make it through the doors. "Sir, will you come with me, please?" she asked, not unkindly.
"Look, nurse, I've got to go check on my partner." Starsky tried to shake off the nurse's grip, but she was stronger than her size indicated.
"No, I've got to go check on your partner. You've got to step around the corner to give the admissions desk some information on your partner. Now, we can exchange roles if you'd like, but I would imagine that I'd be just as effective at providing useful information about your partner as you would be at providing useful assistance to the doctors. Would you agree?" Her twinkling eyes betrayed her stern tone.
Starsky grinned sheepishly and nodded. "You've got me there. I'll go, but keep me posted. Please?"
The nurse noted the pleading tone along with the anxiety in Starsky's eyes. "Of course we will," she replied, patting his hand before disappearing through the double doors.
Starsky trudged dejectedly down the hallway. Nearing the corner, he heard voices rising in argument and recognized one of them right away. "I told you, I know he's here. Check again: Hutchinson, Ken Hutchinson."
Starsky rounded the corner and came face to face with an agitated Huggy Bear. Huggy's shoulders sagged in relief. "Man, am I glad to see you. I was beginning to think you guys were using a new hospital."
"How'd you even know we were here?"
"I drove by when you were getting in the ambulance. I figured Blondie was already in it, so I headed on down here. What happened to Hutch?"
"We don't really know yet. He might have fallen off a ladder, we think. Lookit, I'll fill you in on the details in a minute. Let me get his paperwork squared away." Starsky patted Huggy's stomach and turned to the admissions desk to begin filling out forms.
Huggy leaned over his shoulder and remarked, "If they's smart, they'd just Xerox a bunch of 'em for both of you and fill in the blanks when one of you gets brought in here."
Starsky managed a small smile. "Yeah, it'd be the smart thing to do."
Huggy rested his thin, brown hands on Starsky's shoulders. "I'm gonna get something to drink. You want?"
"Yeah, Hug, a soda would be good. Thanks."
"All right, I'll catch you in the waiting room." Huggy loped off down the hallway, a study of liquid motion.
His forms completed, Starsky reluctantly went to the waiting room. In his mind, this was the worst kind of stakeout duty. Hours spent waiting for one person, but the only people showing up were the ones you weren't looking for in the first place. He found an area of empty chairs and plopped down with a sigh. Looking at his watch, he was amazed to see that it was not quite three o'clock. Two hours ago everything had been just fine and now, well he didn't know how things were now. Starsky didn't like that feeling at all.
When Huggy returned with the drinks, Starsky spent several minutes bringing him up to date on what had happened with Hutch. Huggy nodded as he listened to Starsky's description of the day's events, interrupting only once to ask, "Did you try throwing water on him?"
When Starsky grudgingly confirmed that he had done just that without result, Huggy looked surprised. "Hmm, that always works in the movies."
"That's what I thought." The two men looked at each other and shrugged.
Starsky felt a hand on his back and turned to find Evans and Lawson looming above him. "Hey guys, any word on Hutch?"
"No, give them a little while to check things out," Evans replied. "They'll be out as soon as they know something. I wish we could wait with you, but we've got to get back to the station."
"Yeah, sure. Look, I appreciate everything you guys did for Hutch. I'm sure he'll give you a call later." Starsky walked the paramedics to the waiting room door and shook hands with each man, receiving promises from both to check in later.
Even after Evans and Lawson departed, Starsky remained in the doorway, glaring at all those who passed by without information about Hutch. He saw the geeky kid sitting on a gurney at the end of the hall and was relieved that he wasn't anywhere near Hutch. Looking the other direction, Starsky was surprised to see Captain Dobey thundering down the hall.
"Hey, Cap, what're you doin' here?" Starsky stood back to allow his captain to enter the waiting room.
"I'm here to check on Hutchinson. Why do you think I'm here?" Even dressed in weekend attire of blue jeans and polo shirt, Dobey still commanded authority.
"Well, I mean, I didn't call you...." Starsky looked at Huggy, who quickly shook his head.
"It's on both your files: S.O.P. When one of you gets brought in here, they're supposed to call me immediately. Can't trust you two turkeys to let me know anything," Dobey grumbled. He nodded a greeting in Huggy's direction before demanding, "Now what's going on? They said Hutchinson was brought in here unconscious."
"I don't know what happened. I left the room for a minute and when I came back, he was on the floor. Evans thinks Hutch must have fallen off the ladder and hit his head. I couldn't wake him up, so I called an ambulance." Starsky final words were uttered in barely more than a whisper, as if the need for an ambulance was some failing of his.
"You should have thrown some water on him. Everybody knows that'll bring around someone who's unconscious," Dobey said matter-of-factly.
"Ah, yes sir, I'll remember that next time," Starsky replied meekly, glancing at Huggy, who just shrugged.
Starsky's response apparently satisfied Dobey, who turned to Huggy. "And where are you in all of this?"
"Drive-by sighting only, Cap'n," Huggy replied quickly. "I wasn't nowhere around when the events unfolded."
"Well, why don't you make yourself useful and turn on that television? We can watch the ballgame while we wait." Although Dobey's tone was gruff, even Starsky, who had resumed his vigil in the doorway, knew that the big man was just looking for a helpful distraction.
Starsky continued to cast an evil eye on anything in a white lab coat that walked by without offering information. Geek-boy's sudden absence from the hallway concerned Starsky to some degree. He hoped that the kid wasn't working on Hutch. He briefly considered asking Huggy to go get his gun, but decided against it. They'd probably never tell him anything if he shot one of the staff.
With an exaggerated sigh, Starsky turned and went back into the waiting room. He plopped down in a chair next to Huggy, only then noticing that the ballgame was on television. He jumped up again and walked back to the waiting room door. There was no way he could just sit and watch the ballgame without Hutch. It wouldn't seem right. What if Reggie Jackson adjusted himself on camera? Starsky couldn't imagine Dobey or Huggy having anything funny to say about that. Well okay, Huggy maybe, but it wouldn't be nearly as good as what Hutch would say.
Exhaling loudly enough to be heard on the next floor, Starsky began to pace the hallway. He lengthened the distance he traveled from the waiting room with each pass until finally he was in front of the forbidden double doors. Inching across the hall, Starsky nearly jumped out of his skin when the doors opened suddenly and he was face to face with the nurse who had stopped his entry the first time.
"Going somewhere?" The nurse's tone as well as her manner indicated she was not amused.
Starsky quickly decided to adopt an aw-shucks attitude that he knew most women – and one man – couldn't resist. "No ma'am, just passing by. I needed to stretch my legs."
"You've been waiting for less than an hour and you've been out here in the hallway most of that time trying to intimidate everyone who walks by."
Starsky's jaw dropped. "Me?"
"Yes, you." The nurse couldn't quite suppress a smile. "The whole staff is talking about it. Our poor intern, Eddie, is afraid you're going to shoot him for some reason. Now go back to the waiting room."
"Can't you tell me anything about my partner?" Starsky's pleading eyes were hard to resist, but the nurse simply shook her head.
"I'm sorry, the doctor will be out soon." She nodded toward the waiting room and then disappeared again behind the doors.
Starsky trudged back into the waiting room where he resumed his pacing. If anyone had asked him what he was thinking, he wouldn't have been able to articulate it. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and images, a whirl of emotion and feeling that threatened to overwhelm him at any moment.
Making his turn in the far corner of the room, he was blocked by the not so inconsiderable form of his captain.
"Son, why don't you sit down for a few minutes? Wearing a hole in the floor won't help anything." Dobey's bulky arms held Starsky in place.
"Cap, I'm too wound up to-" Starsky stopped abruptly when he heard someone calling Hutch's name.
"That's us." Starsky called over Dobey's shoulder.
A tall, thin man approached them, hand outstretched. "I'm Dr. Cooper, I've been treating Mr. Hutchinson."
"I'm Dave Starsky; I'm his partner." Starsky shook the doctor's hand and introduced the doctor to the other men.
"Okay, I've heard how anxious you are to find out about your partner. Mind if we sit down?" The doctor motioned to a group of chairs. When they were all seated he continued, "I'm sorry it's taken so long to update you, but we had to run quite a few tests on your partner. At this point, I think we can confirm that Mr. Hutchinson took a pretty nasty knock on the head. The x-rays don't indicate any sort of skull fractures, so we're lucky there."
"Thank God. Is he awake?" Starsky was still haunted by the memory of Hutch, silent and unmoving since the accident.
"He's mostly in and out of consciousness now, but we were able to talk to him several times during our examination. He seems a bit confused."
"Doc, you want me to talk to him? Sometimes Hutch can seem confused to people who don't know him. 'Specially after he's been knocked out." Starsky looked at Dobey and Huggy, who quickly nodded in agreement.
"That's one of the things I wanted to ask you: has Mr. Hutchinson experienced any blows to the head other than those we've treated here?" The doctor shifted forward in his seat.
"That I know about? I don't know...probably three or four months ago, but Hutch is always banging his head on something. He's kind of clumsy that way." Again Starsky looked to Dobey and Huggy, who nodded in silent confirmation. "If there's a problem, Doc, I wanna know about it."
"Mr. Starsky, I think it's still too early to know whether or not there is a serious problem. I get a little overly cautious when a patient has as many head injuries as your partner's record indicates. Since it's been several months since the last one, I'm not quite as concerned, but Mr. Hutchinson's disorientation coupled with his inability to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time are enough to warrant keeping him here at least overnight."
"I want to see him," Starsky demanded.
"Of course. They're moving him to a room now and someone will be here to get you as soon as he's settled." As the doctor stood up, the others followed. "I'll check in with you shortly."
When the doctor was out of the room, Dobey looked at Starsky and asked, "What do you think?"
"I don't really know what to think, Cap," Starsky responded, falling back into the chair. "That Dr. Cooper seemed worried."
"Yeah, but he said he was being cautious," Huggy countered.
"Still...Hutch is usually on his way home by now." Looking at his watch, Starsky couldn't believe that four hours had elapsed since the accident.
Just then an orderly appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Starsky?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"I'm supposed to take you upstairs to room 304."
As he headed to the door, Starsky motioned the others to follow. Both declined - Dobey under the pretense of calling home and Huggy pretending he needed to show Dobey to the room. Starsky left the waiting room smiling.
Dr. Cooper was standing next to Hutch's bed when Starsky entered the room. To Starsky's dismay, Hutch's eyes were still closed. At the doctor's direction, Starsky approached the bed.
"How's he doin'? Starsky asked, his eyes glued to Hutch's face.
"Why don't we see?" the doctor replied. "Mr. Hutchinson? Mr. Hutchinson? Your partner is here. Mr. Hutchinson, wake up."
When Hutch didn't respond, Starsky whispered to the doctor, "You might try calling him Hutch. He probably thinks you're calling his father."
With a short sweep of his hand, the doctor indicated that Starsky should take over. Starsky hesitated only a moment before leaning over the bed. "Hutch! Hey Blondie, wake up."
Hutch groaned as his eyes fluttered open. Starsky was so surprised at the sight of his partner's brilliant blue eyes that he recoiled momentarily. Though somewhat glassy and unfocused, Hutch's eyes were open and looking directly at him. Starsky leaned forward and took Hutch's hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze.
"Hutch, you awake?"
"Yeah." Hutch's response was barely more than a slurred exhalation, but to Starsky's ears it was the equivalent of one of Hutch's stakeout rants on the decline of modern civilization.
"Your head hurt?" Starsky knew it was an inane question, but he was determined to create a conversation.
"Yeah." Hutch's still-unfocused eyes were starting to close.
"You going back to sleep?"
"Yeah." Two long, slow blinks later, Hutch was out again.
Though disappointed at how quickly Hutch had faded, Starsky's elation that his partner had awakened at all could not be dimmed.
"See, Doc? He's not confused. He knew the answers to all my questions." Starsky's raised eyebrows dared the doctor to disagree.
As the shadow of a smile crossed his face, Dr. Cooper shook his head. "With all due respect, those weren't very tough questions, Mr. Starsky. Let's give him a few minutes to rest and then we'll try again."
"What? Did you expect him to recite the Gettysburg Address? He's been unconscious for Pete's sake." Starsky's irritation at the doctor's doubt grew.
"No, Mr. Starsky, I don't expect him to recite anything. I would, however, expect him to remember how he hurt his head today. I've asked him three separate times to tell me how he was injured and I've received three different answers."
"What do you mean?" Starsky's earlier excitement was quickly deflating.
"Mr. Hutchinson's first response was that he fell off a radio tower trying to catch someone named Captain Jim."
"Commander Jim," Starsky corrected automatically. "A case we worked. Hutch was talking about him today, not long before the accident. What did he say the second time you asked him?"
"He said he was in a car wreck and hit his head on the dashboard."
"And the last time?"
"He simply couldn't tell me."
"What do you think it means, Doc?" Starsky tightened his grip on Hutch's hand.
"Mr. Starsky, I don't want you to be too alarmed, but it's possible that your partner is experiencing some degree of amnesia."
"Amnesia? That can't be right. He knows who he is and who I am. Hell, he even remembers Commander Jim. How can he have amnesia?" Starsky asked incredulously.
"No, the type of amnesia I believe Mr. Hutchinson is experiencing is called retrograde amnesia. It's not uncommon for a patient with concussion to have some memory loss of past events. That doesn't mean he won't remember any past events; it more likely will be events occurring within a particular period of time – say the past year or six months. There's really no pattern. Normally the memory returns after a short time as the brain begins to heal, which is why I don't want you to be unduly alarmed. We'll continue to monitor Mr. Hutchinson throughout the night. I fully expect to see improvement by tomorrow morning." The confidence in Dr. Cooper's final comments fell on deaf ears.
"What if he doesn't get his memory back? What's he supposed to do then?" Starsky's surging optimism had quickly faded back into the worry that had been so prevalent throughout the afternoon.
"Mr. Starsky, your concern is extremely premature. We haven't even established that Mr. Hutchinson has any memory loss. It may well be some mental confusion that a few hours rest resolves. Let's try him again, shall we? This time try asking something more difficult than 'are you awake.' Why don't you ask him to tell you the last thing he remembers?" Smiling, the doctor reached across the bed to pat Starsky on the shoulder.
Starsky took a deep breath and squeezed Hutch's hand. "Hutch, time to wake up again." He reached out to pat Hutch's cheek. Hutch opened his eyes and Starsky was pleased to see that some of the fogginess had been replaced with irritation.
"Hutch, can you stay awake for a few minutes? We need to ask you some questions – you know: test how you're thinking."
"I think you're an idiot. Did I pass?" Hutch groaned, but he didn't close his eyes.
"Very funny, Blondie. Hey, what's the last thing you remember?" Starsky squeezed Hutch's hand again as if to transfer the knowledge from his own hand into Hutch's memory.
Hutch's eyes blinked rapidly, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Somebody hit me? That's not right, is it? Damn, I ought to know. What the hell's wrong with me, Starsk?"
Watching Hutch become more agitated was somehow almost as bad as seeing him unconscious. Starsky patted Hutch's chest and began speaking in a singsong patter that had worked at calming Hutch before. "Easy. Just rest a minute. Everything's going to be okay. You just bumped your head, that's all. It'll be okay; I promise."
Hutch's eyes grew foggy again. "My head hurts, Starsk."
"I know it does, Hutch. Just rest a minute."
"I gotta close my eyes."
"It's okay, Hutch. Close your eyes. I'll wake you up later." Hutch was asleep before Starsky finished speaking.
Dr. Cooper spoke first. "You see what I mean."
Starsky nodded. "What do we do now?"
"When did these other events he talked about occur?" the doctor asked.
Not taking his eyes off Hutch, Starsky answered, "The radio tower was four years ago. The car wreck was about eighteen months ago." Starsky's mind traveled back to the hours after the wreck when Hutch had pretended to have amnesia to get back at him for driving so recklessly. The panic he'd just seen in Hutch's eyes told Starsky that this time was no joke.
Starsky cleared his throat. "Why do you ask? Do you think the things he's remembering mean anything?"
"Not necessarily," Dr. Cooper assured him. "I'm just trying to understand the timeline. Look, I suggest we let Mr. Hutchinson rest a little longer this time. You look like you could use a rest, too. I'll be back in an hour or so."
Immediately after the doctor left the room, Huggy Bear and Captain Dobey entered.
"What did he say? How's Hutchinson?" Dobey asked, obviously concerned at the worried expression on Starsky's face.
"He said Hutch might have some kind of amnesia." Starsky noticed Huggy and Dobey exchanging doubtful looks. Along with Starsky, they had been victims of Hutch's amnesia prank the year before. "No guys, I think he might be right this time."
"What makes you say that, Starsky?" Huggy had eased to Dr. Cooper's spot on the other side of the bed.
Starsky shrugged. "Hutch can't remember how he got hurt. He keeps coming up with different reasons. Last thing he came up with was the car wreck last year. Jesus, if that's the last thing he remembers, Hutch might not remember more than a year of his life when he wakes up."
"Starsky, you keep saying 'might be.' What's that about?" Huggy's voice was tender, but held a note of challenge. Starsky knew that Huggy suspected him of remembering only the worst of what the doctor had said.
"Doc says he might just be 'mentally confused' and that it might take care of itself with rest." Starsky didn't sound hopeful.
Huggy reached across the bed to pat Starsky's hand. "Look, you got to talk to Hutch and he knew you, right? That's a good thing."
Starsky turned his palm up so that he and Huggy clasped hands. "You're right, Hug, that's a good thing."
From the end of the bed, Dobey cleared his throat. "What can we do, Starsky?"
"Nothing to do but wait, Cap. Look, why don't you go on home? I'll call you if anything changes."
Dobey hesitated a few seconds before reluctantly agreeing. "I do need to get home. Rosie's having a slumber party and Edith's trying to handle eight little girls by herself." The big man's eyes began to twinkle as they always did when he talked about his family.
"Give Rosie a kiss for me, okay?" Starsky said. "And one for Hutch, too."
"Sure thing, Starsky. I'll check back in the morning." Dobey took one last look at Hutch before he left.
Starsky turned back to Huggy. "You better get over to The Pits, Hug. It's Saturday night; the place is bound to be packed."
"Yeah, I know. I'll go in a minute." Huggy stood staring at Hutch.
"What are you thinkin' about?" Starsky asked.
Huggy moved over to the window and peeked through the blinds before he answered. "Just thinkin' about what it would be like to lose a year out of your life."
"I know what you mean. In our lives, a lot can happen in a year."
"Yeah, tell me about it. You two weren't even a couple a year ago and now look at you." Huggy snickered.
"What did you say?" Starsky's voice was barely more than a whisper.
Huggy turned around. "I said a year ago you two weren't even...." His voice trailed off as his own words seemed to register with him. "Oh shit, Starsky, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. Hutch wouldn't forget that."
"Hutch thought he fell off a radio tower and survived, Huggy. Who knows what he thinks anymore." Starsky's mind was reeling. It never occurred to him that Hutch might not remember that they had become much more than partners on the job, that they had become life partners as well. Even the possibility of it was enough to make him ill.
"Look, Huggy, we won't know what Hutch thinks or remembers until he wakes up long enough to tell us. Why don't you go to work? I'll call if we need you tonight." Starsky crossed the room to where Huggy stood and wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders.
"Go on. I'm going to sack out here awhile."
"Starsky, I'm really sorry."
"Don't worry about it, Huggy. We'll know more tomorrow." Starsky patted Huggy on the back as he passed through the door.
Starsky returned to his post beside Hutch's bed and watched him breathe, grateful for the peaceful expression on his partner's face. He pulled a chair closer to Hutch and plopped into it with a sigh, leaning forward to rest his arms on the side of the bed. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his body throughout the afternoon evaporated and he was left completely exhausted. He put his head down on his arms and closed his eyes.
Sun slanting through the blinds brought Starsky abruptly upright. He couldn't believe he had slept through the night. His eyes suddenly registered that Hutch wasn't in his bed. Just as he stood up, Hutch emerged from the bathroom pulling a shirt over his head.
"Hutch?" Starsky was dumbfounded. "What are you doing up? What are you doing dressed?"
"Doc says I can go home and sleep there."
"When was he here?"
"Just now. He left a bunch of instructions." Hutch patted the back pocket of his jeans. "The usual drill. You've probably got it memorized by now."
"Where did you get those clothes?"
"Huggy brought them." Hutch hooked a thumb toward the bathroom. "He brought some for you, too."
Starsky sat down, not believing what he was hearing. The room had been like Grand Central Station all morning and he had slept through it all.
"Starsk, if you're going to change, go on and do it, huh? I want to go home."
"You sure you're supposed to go home? What about your memory?" Starsky stood and walked slowly to the bathroom. "Did anything else come back to you?
"No, Dr. Cooper said this is probably it. I probably won't get it back on my own, but I told him not to worry. You can fill me in on what I forgot, right? Partner?" Hutch leaned on the doorframe. "Right?"
"Yeah, sure. Give me a minute to wash up and change and we'll get out of here." When Hutch disappeared from the doorway, Starsky leaned on the sink for support. He turned on the water and splashed some on his face, hoping it would slow down his racing mind. How was he supposed to tell his partner about the huge change their relationship had undergone in the past year? Would Hutch even want that relationship now? More questions hovered in the recesses of Starsky's mind, but he knew he would never solve them standing in the hospital bathroom. He quickly changed clothes and prepared to take Hutch home.
Starsky's mind was still whirling on the drive home. When a hand tapped his arm, Starsky realized that Hutch had asked him a question. "What?"
"I asked where you're going. I thought you were going to take me home." Hutch looked puzzled.
Starsky's response was measured. He decided to hand Hutch the truth in small doses. "I guess that's one of the things I need to fill you in on. You moved earlier this year."
"I have a new apartment?"
"No, you have a new house. Um, we have a new house."
Hutch shifted forward in his seat. "It's not that shack, is it? Please tell me I'm not living in that shack you tricked me into buying?"
Reaching over to push Hutch back against the seat before answering, Starsky smiled at the look of anxiety on his partner's face. "No, this is a nice house. It's just a little bungalow, but it's nice. You'll like it."
"Tell me about it." Hutch still sounded doubtful.
"Okay, like I said it's just a little house with two bedrooms. But one of them has skylights so we made it into a jungle room for your plants. It's got great hardwood floors that we refinished ourselves. Oh, and it's got these great high ceilings." Starsky looked hopefully at his partner.
Hutch's eyes were closed, but he smiled. "Sounds nice."
The rest of the trip seemed to pass at light speed. Before Starsky realized it, they were home. Evidently Huggy had cleared the debris from the day before, because the ceiling fan box and the rest of the materials were not to be seen. He had even installed the light cover.
Hutch stood in the center of the living room, slowly absorbing his new surroundings. Starsky busied himself putting their dirty clothes in the laundry bag.
"Guess I'm gonna have to get used to this, huh? Finding out about pretty big stuff I should be able to remember." Hutch rubbed his forehead. "I'll take the tour later; I'm going to bed for awhile."
"That's a good idea. I might do the same thing." A yawn escaped even as Starsky spoke.
"Starsk, where do I sleep?" Hutch looked at Starsky expectantly and shuffled down the hallway when Starsky pointed the way.
Just as Starsky feared, Hutch appeared in the doorway again a few seconds later. "Starsk?"
"Yeah?" Starsky answered quietly.
"Where do you sleep? Only one room has a bed in it." Hutch looked around as if there might be a hidden bedroom he couldn't see.
Starsky opted for another dose of truth. "In the same bed as you."
"Why?" It was simple question with a complicated answer that Starsky knew Hutch wasn't ready to hear.
"I told you. We needed one of the bedrooms for your jungle. We've been trying to figure out how to make it into another bedroom." While that wasn't completely truthful, they had been talking about putting a futon in the spare bedroom. The full truth was that they had planned to use it for stargazing and whatever that led to.
Hutch looked less than comfortable with the sleeping arrangements, but he just nodded and muttered, "This is too weird. I'm going to bed."
A few minutes later, Starsky eased into the other side of the bed. Hutch looked over his shoulder and smiled. "I know you, Starsky. If I wake up with something poking me in the back, it better be your knee."
Starsky managed to croak out what he hoped sounded like a laugh and rolled over so that his back was to Hutch.
"Starsk? What do we do if we want to bring a date home?"
Starsky was relieved that another dose of truth could answer the question. "Hutch, neither one of us has had a date to bring home for awhile. We'll figure it out if it comes up. Now, go to sleep."
Starsky held himself still, hardly even daring to breathe until he knew Hutch was asleep. Only then did he allow himself to feel the effects of his worst fear realized: Hutch wasn't in love with him and didn't remember that he ever had been. He probably never would. The pain of it was so deep and so sudden that Starsky groaned before he could stop himself. He sat up and clutched his stomach, trying to will the pain away.
Hutch shifted and rolled over to face Starsky, a lock of his fine blond hair falling onto his forehead. Without thinking about it, Starsky reached out and pushed it back into place. He remembered kissing Hutch's forehead just the day before and instantly felt the incompleteness of it. If he'd known it would be the last time, he would have kissed Hutch's eyelids, his temples, and his chin. He would have taken one last kiss from Hutch's lips, the knowledge that it was the last one making it all the sweeter. Starsky slid from the bed to the floor, folding his arms to rest on the edge of the mattress. Emotionally spent, he rested his head on his arms.
Fingers tugging at his curls pulled him from sleep. Starsky opened his eyes to see a pair of glassy blue eyes staring back at him. He raised his head and was shocked to see the darkened hospital room. Bewildered, he turned back to Hutch.
"You look like you've seen a ghost. Do I look that bad?" Hutch's mouth turned up in a sweet, sleepy smile.
"I was asleep?" Starsky croaked.
"Dead to the world. Doc's been in twice and you never moved a muscle. He said you were paying me back for today. Or yesterday. What time is it?"
"Now?" Starsky blinked at his watch.
"No, dummy, I want to know what time it was twenty minutes ago." Hutch tried to roll his eyes and grimaced from the effort.
"Well, funny man, twenty minutes ago it was one o'clock." Starsky rubbed his face and looked at Hutch again. "How do you feel?"
"Head hurts like hell. Mouth's dry. I'm sleepy, but other than that, I think I'm okay."
Starsky found a cup of water on the nightstand and held the straw to Hutch's lips. "Better?"
"Yeah, my lips are still dry, though."
"You want me to see if I can find some Chapstick?"
"No, I don't want any Chapstick. Damn, Starsky, who got the concussion? I was trying to get you to kiss me."
"Oh." Starsky fiddled with the edge of the sheet.
"Or maybe you're only interested if I'm wearing a certain pair of shorts?" Hutch's eyes were getting glassier, but remained fixed on Starsky.
Still numb from sleep, Starsky didn't trust what he thought he heard. "Hutch, how did you get hurt?"
"I don't remember what happened exactly. I was waiting for you to bring me something from the kitchen and I got this pain in my back. All of a sudden I was falling. My legs got all tangled up in the ladder and I brought it down with me. " Hutch reached out to clasp Starsky's hand. "Did I pass your test?"
"What did the doctor say?"
"He said I passed. Probably have to stay here another night though. Are you through with your questions now?"
"Not yet. There's one more and it's important." A smile tugged at the corner of Starsky's mouth. "Where do I sleep?"
"Until recently you slept with me, but if you don't quit acting so weird, that might change." Hutch laughed softly. "What's with the questions?"
"Nothing, just checking your memory." Starsky's smile was full as he climbed onto the bed to sit facing his partner.
Hutch let go of Starsky's hand to touch his lover's face, trailing his thumb from Starsky's temple to rest just under his jaw. "Do I get a question?"
"Sure."
"What were you dreaming?" Hutch moved his hand to Starsky's chin, preventing him from looking away.
"It wasn't anything."
"It made you cry, Starsk. You woke me up."
"I cried?" Starsky rolled his eyes. "Not while the doctor was here, I hope."
Hutch moved his hand to rest on Starsky's chest. "No, right before I woke you up. You made a big wet spot on my bed. Not my favorite kind of wet spot, Starsk. Tell me what made you cry."
"It's dumb, but if you insist on humiliating me, I'll tell you." By the time he finished giving Hutch an abbreviated version of his dream, Hutch's eyes were starting the long, slow blinks that told Starsky that his partner would soon be asleep again.
"You thought I forgot that I loved you? How could I do that? It's been pretty unforgettable if you ask me." Hutch's smile was sleepy again.
"Well, like I told you: it's dumb now but it seemed real while I was dreamin' it." Starsky shivered from the memory of it.
Hutch caressed Starsky's jaw again, this time pulling forward. "Come here." He pulled Starsky's mouth to his for the kiss he had asked for earlier.
When Starsky reluctantly backed away, Hutch whispered, "It's April Fools' Day, Starsk. It was just a dream – a joke. I love you. I wouldn't forget that. Couldn't."
"I love you, too. You goin' back to sleep now?" Starsky smoothed Hutch's hair back from his forehead.
"Yeah, I'm goin' to sleep." Hutch's blinks were even longer now. "You keep doin' that, I might not wake up again."
"I'd better stop then, because I definitely want you to wake up." Starsky smiled as Hutch blinked once more before sleep overtook him.
After a few minutes of watching Hutch sleep, Starsky slowly eased off the bed. As he stood up, his hand brushed a damp spot on the sheet and the memory of his dream rushed back to him. He quickly turned back to Hutch and leaned over to place light kisses on his eyelids, his temples, and his chin. For good measure, he stole another kiss from Hutch's lips as well, remembering to take a moment to savor the sweetness of it.
Just in case.
**
The End