© by Elsa
Captain Dobey sat in the waiting room when Hutch and Nancy arrived. He’d come in just a few minutes before them.
“They’re working on him,” he said without being asked. “It looked bad, he lost a lot of blood. But that’s always scary to see, we’ll just have to wait for the doctor.” He nodded at Nancy, shook her extended hand and introduced himself. She did likewise.
Hutch told him everything, helped by Nancy. Dobey listened, took some notes and when they were finished he took off to find a telephone, undoubtedly to send out an APB on Will Vaughn.
Starsky’s injury resulted in a long treatment in the E.R. and Hutch and Nancy waited, sometimes in silence, sometimes in soft talking. Nancy leant against Hutch’s shoulder as they sat together, hand in hand, and dozed off every now and then. Hutch couldn’t fall asleep. He was far too awake and worried, his heart jumped every time he saw the door to the theatres open and a medic coming out.
Finally a woman in operating clothes approached them. She looked fresh and fit, despite the late hour.
“Are you here for Detective Starsky?”
“Yes,” Hutch said and Nancy was instantly wide awake and they stood up. “I’m Detective Hutchinson. David Starsky is my partner.” The looks from the doctor were sufficient enough for Hutch to let out a sigh of relief. Certainly the doctor would have had a totally different face ready in case of worse news.
“He came round when I talked to him, briefly. One side of his face had a deep cut. I’ve done quite some stitching to his head –21 stitches to be exact. His face is black and blue – he’s heavily concussed and doesn’t remember his name or what happened, but that will come in a few days with proper rest.”
“He doesn’t remember his name?” echoed Nancy, her eyes wide with fear, perfectly putting to words what fear settled in Hutch’s mind.
“That’s not quite abnormal after such a trauma. He’s had a fierce blow to his head and his brain needs time to recover from that. It’s literally shaken up. The brain fluids are disturbed. Once that’s restored, it’ll come back.”
“Are you sure?”
The doctor smiled but her eyes were cautious, as was her answer. “I don’t give guarantees, Miss. I’m not a car mechanic, the human body doesn’t work like that. I think he’ll be fine, provided he rests enough and gives himself time to recover.”
Hutch put up his hands by means of apology. “We’re just worried, Doctor. Loss of memory sounds serious.”
“It IS a serious condition. And that’s why I’m telling you what Detective Starsky’s state is. He’s lost a lot of blood, so we’ve given him some, and he responds well. All things considered I daresay he came through well.”
“Is he awake?”
“No. You can see him, but don’t wake him up. He needs to rest.”
“How long does he have to stay?”
“He needs to come to properly and I can’t let him go if he’s still on the IV. If all goes well I expect to sign his release papers in a few days.” The doctor noticed Hutch’s eagerness for good news and smiled reassuringly. “He’ll be fine, Detective. He’s in good shape, that’ll speed up a quick recovery.” She pointed to a green door. “Through the green doors, second door on the left. You can see him, but—“
“I won’t wake him up. Promise.”
She nodded and left Hutch and Nancy to visit their friend.
Starsky looked awful. The left side of his face was one big dark bruise, pieces of gauze unable to hide the nasty spots and deep red, blue and black lines that were put there by a crazy man with a spade in his hands.
Hutch looked at his friend with deep compassion. Next to him Nancy covered her lips with her hand. Tears welled up in her eyes when she noticed the quiet, battered man in the bed. Against the white pillow his face was ashen, a nearly blue tinge appearing around his lips, his closed eyes surrounded by rapidly increasing dark rings. His hair was dirty and moist, partly shaven away to enable the stitching. He looked very poorly.
Hutch bend over him and gently pushed a lost curl aside. Very softly he spoke to his sleeping partner.
“Hey buddy. If you want the lady’s attention you don’t need to do this, you hear? Just ask next time.” He touched Starsky’s hand which rested on the sheets and which was cold. Hutch took another blanket from a chair in the corner and covered him with it. “Here you go, Starsk. You sleep now, okay? I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“He’s so pale,” Nancy whispered as her fingers ran across Starsky’s unharmed cheek. Her voice was so thin that Hutch knew she could burst out in tears any second. He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her outside. All colour had drained from her face and all of sudden it struck Hutch how tired she looked, how beat she seemed.
“It’s all my fault!” Nancy burst out the second the door fell shut behind them, “It’s all because of me. If I hadn’t contacted you, this would never have happened to him.”
“Nancy!” Hutch said sternly and closed his slender hands around her upper arms, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s NOT your fault. Vaughn hit Starsky, not you. This is what happens with idiots like him, people who lose perspective. To him, it’s Vaughn and Nancy, or no one. NO ONE can have you if he can’t. And he’s taking that out on every one who crosses him. Starsky was in his way.”
“But you…! You are also in his way!”
Hutch nodded, letting his blue eyes sink into hers. “Yes. I’m in his way too. I know how he thinks, Nance. He had to get rid of Starsky first in order to get to me. He won’t be able to take out two at the same time.”
“But… how did he get in my home? And how did he find Starsky’s place?”
“I don’t know,” Hutch answered grimly. “But I will find out.” He ran his thumb across her cheek and brushed the tears away. “Don’t blame yourself for something that’s totally beyond your control, Nancy. I’m going to think of something. We’re going to get him, I promise. It might take a while, but he won’t get away with this.”
“I don’t want to go home,” Nancy almost pouted like a little girl, which made Hutch wrap his arms around her in a warm embrace.
“You’re not going home. You’re staying at my place, we’re going to make sure no one knows you’re at my place. If I can’t be at home, you don’t need to be afraid. My place is your safe house, just as long as it takes till we get him.” He smelled her hair, her light perfume, felt her tensed body coming to rest in his embrace and a rush of anger bubbled up in the usually so gentle Hutchinson.
He was going to pay for this.
Of that he was sure.