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Surviving Survival

by

Soho

PART ONE

 

   Screeching his Torino to a halt next to Humphries' Cadillac, Starsky bolted from the car as if shot from a cannon. He ran to the edge of the road and right away spotted a human figure running into the canyon towards what he immediately recognized to be his partner's over-turned car.

   "Oh my God, Hutch!" The thought of Hutch and his car rammed off the road and tumbling down the side the mountain side was nearly enough to make Starsky sick.

   He estimated, by the distance the car traveled, that it had to have rolled at least three and a half times before finally coming to a rest on its roof.

   According to Colonel Sonny McPhearson, Hutch was pinned underneath it, but with all the thick brush and the angle at which the car lay, he could not see him right away.

   He recognized the full-figured running man as being Victor Humphries. Somehow, he too, had been tipped off that Hutch was still alive, and Humphries was intent on silencing him for good. "Like hell he will," Starsky thought as he continued his way down the hill behind him.

   His speed was aided by an intense adrenaline rush and fueled by his hatred for the man intent on putting a bullet into his best friend's brain to silence his testimony against him.

   Within a few strides, Starsky caught up with his nemesis, tackling him. He got to his feet before Humphries, grabbed him by the lapel of his plaid sports coat and hauled him to his feet before landing a left hook to the jaw. This sent Humphries sprawling back to the ground and caused him to loose his cheap toupee which did little to hide his baldness in the first place. This time, however, Humphries did not get up, nor was he moving.

   After making sure his prisoner was no longer an immediate threat, Starsky ran towards the overturned car not quite sure what he would find. The Colonel had informed him that Hutch was very much alive, but it was now almost half a day since he'd left him, and Starsky prayed silently as he made his way towards the car that his friend still was.

   As he got closer, he began to make out a still figure laying on the ground with his left leg pinned under the roof of the driver's side of his car. The driver's door hung open, loosely attached by a single hinge as it rested on the ground near him. Hutch was positioned on his back, arms out stretched, head down in the direction of the ravine, and not moving. If it hadn't been for the car pinning him in place, he might have slipped further into the ravine.

   "Hutch!" Starsky called out as he approached the car. No answer. "Hutch!" Still no answer.

   Starsky was nearly out of breath when he finally made his way around the car to his partner. He could swear his heart was ready to leap out of his own chest as he approached the unmoving form.

   Starsky dropped to the ground next to Hutch and let out a loud sigh of relief as he watched his partner's chest rise and fall in a normal rhythm.

   "Hutch," he whispered, "Hutch," he repeated. He watched protectively as Hutch began to stir. Finally, his eyes cracked open, however, they were glazed over and unfocused.

    Starsky gently lifted his partner's head and spoke in a low soothing voice. "Hey partner, we did it." Hutch looked like he'd just noticed Starsky was there, then he let out a weak cough.

   Starsky gently lowered Hutch's head so he could take a closer look at him What he saw chilled him. Hutch's eyes were sunken and dark rings encircled them. His skin was very pale and dry -- too dry. A deep laceration marked his upper forehead where blood, now dried, lead a trail down the side of his face. Hutch appeared worn and confused.

   As Hutch continued to regain consciousness, he began shivering uncontrollably, since he no longer sustained the energy to keep his body temperature at normal levels.

   Weak and only semi-conscious, Hutch could only speak just above a whisper. "Sta-Starsky?" He reached up with an unsteady hand, placing it on the side of his partner's face as if to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. When he finally made contact, he let out a long sigh of relief, overwhelmingly grateful Starsky had found him.

   "I'm right here, partner. I'm gonna get you out of here, so don't you worry. Okay?" 

   Starsky pulled off his own jacket and covered his partner with it.   

   "Ho....how'd you find me?" Hutch asked in a weak quivery voice.   

   "Your Colonel friend informed me where I could pick up our POW." Starsky said with a small grin as he took a hold of Hutch's hand and gently squeezed it.   

   A weak chuckle came from Hutch, "Oh, that guy."

   "Yeah, that guy. Listen buddy, I have to go call for help to get you out of here. I'll be right back, so hold on, okay?"   

   "I'm not going anywhere."   

   Starsky tucked his jacket securely around Hutch before starting back up towards the Torino. He stopped only to grab the now conscious Humphries. He read him his Miranda rights as he handcuffed him and led him to the backseat of his car.

   Starsky glared at his prisoner with intense hatred, and said in a low and threatening voice that most would not dare challenge, "You make any attempt to move, and I swear I'll kill you, Humphries. You hear me, you filthy, slimy son-of-a-bitch? I'll kill you! You keep your ass here until I get back!"   

   Humphries, not feeling so powerful anymore, gave a quick nod and turned away from Starsky, expressionless.   

   After making the calls for rescue crews and an ambulance for Hutch, Starsky ordered a squad car to transport the prisoner to booking. The last call was placed to Captain Dobey.   

   Starsky opened the trunk of his car, removed four road flares then struck each one before carefully placing them on the side of the road to be easily be spotted by the approaching emergency vehicles.   

   Although desperately wanting to be by his partner's side, he waited up by the road for help to finally arrive. As he waited, he silently offered up a prayer of thanks that he was able to locate his partner alive.   

   Within ten minutes, though to Starsky it seemed like an eternity, the first of the emergency crews began to arrive....an ambulance. Starsky stood in the middle of the road waving them down with both arms flapping as if they would've missed the road flares in the street, and the red mars light flashing on top of his red Torino.   

   He ran to the ambulance, recognizing the two paramedics as Christopher Hollander and Michael Marcado. They had accompanied him and Hutch on countless crime and accident scenes where there were live victims involved.   

   Starsky approached Christopher first, as he was in the driver's seat.   

   "Hey, Starsky, whatcha got for me?"   

    "Chris, it's Hutch, he's down in the ravine pinned under his car, he's been there for about three days."   

   "Hutch?! He's the victim?! Damn! Okay, man, go be with your partner, Mike and I will be there shortly, we have to gather our equipment." Starsky nodded then turned and rushed back down into the canyon.   

   Chris turned to his partner next to him. "This is going to be pretty dicey, Mike."   

   "You're telling me. Let's go, man."

   Starsky ran back to his partner's side as fast as he could. Hutch had once again lost consciousness.

   He leaned over Hutch, stroking his hair and speaking to him in a soft comforting tone. "Hutch, come on buddy, can you wake up for me, huh? Help is coming, we're gonna get you outta here. Come on, open your eyes."

   Hutch stirred and slowly regained consciousness. He opened his glazed eyes, barely able to focus on the figure who was hovering over him.

   "Mmmm....didn't realize I was falling sleep," he murmured.

   "You're making me nervous fading out like that, Hutch."

   "Sorry, can't help it," came the groggy reply.

   "It's okay, just try staying awake until we get you to the hospital, then you can sleep all you want. Okay?"

   "'Kay," was Hutch's only reply as he fought hard to stay awake.

   The ordeal of spending three days pinned under his car had taken its toll on Hutch's body.

   He didn't know how much longer he could have lasted in the condition he was in. He was left with no food or water, save for the sip from the Colonel's canteen. He was unable to move, even to turn his body. His back, shoulders, and rear end felt incredibly painful, and in some spots, there were raw, burning sensations. The constant throbbing of his crushed left leg left his foot painfully numb. Added to this was the cramps in his right leg from the inability to straighten it. The leg had not been crushed by the car, but it was bent at the knee and hip due to his foot being jammed up against the body of the car. This caused extreme discomfort in his joints. His overall misery was topped off by an incredible headache.

   The psychological stress was just as bad. Hutch didn't have a clue if anyone was going to find him in time. He'd imagined the torture Starsky was going through, not knowing where he was. He remembered how he'd felt when Starsky was being held captive by cult leader Marcos' devout followers. It had nearly driven him insane.

   Hutch didn't even know if his apartment was still in one piece. When he last left it, he had prime ribs for two in the oven and for all he knew, his place may have burned to the ground by now, along with those of his neighbors at Venice Place. This, of course, added guilt onto his list of troubles.

   Starsky, already crouched next to him, noticed his uneasy look. "How ya doing, buddy?"

   Hutch looked up into his eyes. "Starsk? My apartment.... How's my apartment? I had the oven on when I left, I was supposed to be back within an hour."

   "Relax, partner, the only thing burnt was your prime rib. Too bad I didn't get there sooner. It really looked like it would've made great sandwiches," Starsky said, trying to lighten Hutch's mood.

   Hutch snorted. "Leave it to you to think about your never-ending appetite in a bad situation."

   "Hey, Mom still says I'm a growing boy. 'Sides, I hadda keep my strength up while searching for you."

   The paramedics finally made their way to Hutch, and Starsky forced himself to step aside to allow the paramedics to access their patient.

   Chris was the first to approach. He crouched down beside Hutch, noticing his lack of awareness of his surroundings. He spoke to him in a louder than normal voice. "Hutch, it's me, Chris Hollander. Don't try to move, okay? I'm here with Mike Marcado, we're going to help you. I first need to immobilize your head and neck with a special collar."

   Mike approached on the left side of Hutch and dropped his pack. He immediately pulled out a rigid cervical collar which he gently applied to Hutch's neck as Chris, now crouching directly behind his patient, gently supported the head and neck as one unit. Chris turned to Mike, "We're going to need the spinal board to finish the immobilization once we get him out."

   Mike began to make his way back up to the road, cursing under his breath something about always having to be Chris's 'little errand boy.'

   Chris yelled from below, "Mike, don't forget the blankets, oxygen tank and non-rebreather face mask!"

   "Yea, don't forget to kiss my ass," Mike grumbled under his breath.

   Chris removed his trauma shears from his utility belt and cut up the seam of Hutch's flannel shirt sleeve, exposing his entire arm. Carefully, he inspected it for any lacerations, dislocations, or deformities. Since none of these was present and Hutch denied any pain in that arm or shoulder, he proceeded to take his blood pressure which he found to be too low. He grasped Hutch's wrist to feel for his pulse which was 115 beats per minute -- it was a little too fast.

   Chris checked Hutch's respirations next and noted 25 breaths per minute.... Also a bit fast, though not dangerous, but he decided to continue monitoring him closely.

   Noticing his sunken eyes, lack of color, and the dryness of his skin and lips, Chris immediately assessed that Hutch was, among other things, severely dehydrated.

   In a loud voice, Chris explained to Hutch, "I need to start an IV so we can begin getting fluids back into you."

   In a weary but determined voice, Hutch demanded "No! NO IVs! Don't stick anything in my arm! Please!" He was having flashback from only a year and a half earlier when he was forced to endure the heroin-filled needles pushed into his arm. The thought of more needles terrified him.

   Starsky knelt down beside his partner, took his hand and spoke in a calming voice.

   "Hey, listen to me, Hutch. You have to let him do it...they need to get fluids back into you. You're all dried out. You know Chris Hollander, he's good at what he does. We worked beside him and Mike at least a thousand times. Trust me, buddy. I'll be right here the whole time. Okay?"

   Hutch took a deep breath, returned a weak squeeze to Starsky's hand then nodded. He tried turning his head towards Starsky, but the cervical collar prevented him. He just squeezed his eyes shut and held onto Starsky's hand as he waited uneasily for what was coming.

   By the degree of tenseness in Hutch's entire body, one would have though Chris was getting ready to chop off the arm.

   Chris worked at inserting an IV catheter into Hutch's veins which wasn't easy since his blood vessels were in the midst of collapsing from the lack of fluids. Even with a rubber tourniquet tied around his upper arm to make the veins in his lower arm dilate, it remained a difficult task.

   After several attempts to successfully insert the large needle, and just as many groans and colorful words from Hutch, and nasty glares from Starsky, Chris eventually succeeded. He then attached a glass liter bottle of ringers lactate IV solution in an attempt to begin re-hydration.

   Holding the bottle in his hand, Chris looked over at Starsky who had been hovering the entire time. "Here, hold this, and don't drop it, whatever you do."

   Starsky took it and held it up, grateful he could do something for his partner, even if it meant being his human IV pole.

   All the poking into his arm aroused Hutch further from his semi-conscious state. He peeked up at his car one more time. He decided right then, it was a lost cause for sure, and would need replacing.

   "Damn," he whispered to himself.

   Starsky looked down at him. "What was that, buddy?"

   Hutch smirked. "Looks like you finally got your way, partner. This car is a goner."

   Starsky returned the smile. "I'll tell you what, after you're outta the hospital, we'll go and pick out a nice hotrod, huh? Maybe we'll get you a Torino of your very own. We can go drag racing down the strip."

   Hutch just rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Starsky was encouraged by the slight smile on his friend's face.

   By this time, Mike had made his way back down the hill with the spinal board and the rest of the supplies. With all the equipment he was lugging, he was lucky he didn't take a header the rest of the way into the canyon himself. He was stating a few choice words of his own as he stumbled to the scene, dropping all the equipment...except the oxygen tank, of course.

   The rescue crew had finally arrived and followed Mike down. They wasted no time in assessing the scene before deciding on a plan of action to extricate Hutch.

   They applied big wooden blocks called cribbing under all the spaces of the car to hopefully increase its stability and prevent the car from rolling completely onto Hutch during their attempt to move it. Next, a long, thick chain was attached from the rear axle of the car to the back of a huge tow truck parked on the road, normally used to haul semis. This also aided in securing the car from falling further, and it would be used to complete the task of dragging the car up to the roadside after its prisoner was freed.

   Looking at the position of the car, they decided it would be too risky to move it while Hutch was still under it. It seemed too likely it would slide the wrong way, crushing him further. It was decided that the best course of action would be to make sure the car was totally stable. Using spades, they carefully began to remove dirt from around Hutch's body in hopes they could create the room needed to allow them to slide him from underneath the car.

   In the meantime, Chris ran his hands completely up and down Hutch's upper body and right leg checking for possible broken bones, dislocations, impaled objects, and lacerations. Except for the laceration on the forehead, everything else checked out okay. He also asked Hutch a slew of medical questions concerning his past medical history, such as allergies, medications, and pre-existing medical conditions. He assured him the receiving hospital would be asking these same questions plus many more.

   Mike ran back up the ravine to call the receiving hospital and inform them of Hutch's present condition. The emergency room doctor instructed him to continue monitoring Hutch's vital signs, treat him for shock, and continue to replace bottles of IV solution as they ran out. The doctor would be waiting for their arrival.

   Chris placed the non-rebreather mask over Hutch's mouth and nose and covered him with a blanket to conserve body heat, both treatments were precautionary measures for preventing shock from setting in. Chris handed Starsky back his jacket.

   Hutch moaned wearily, "Starsk?"

   "Right here, babe."

   "Stay with me. Okay?"

   "Hey, buddy, I ain't goin' nowhere, I'm your IV pole." Starsky replied with a crooked smile that Hutch couldn't see since his eyes were closed. Starsky ran his fingers through the soft blond hair to indicate he was right at his side.

   "See, I told you were good for something."

   Starsky smiled, grateful his partner could still joke.

   The rescue workers spent two hours of careful digging which included fighting stubborn roots, the remains of bushes, and having to do some digging with bare hands. This was aided by plenty of grunting and cussing to help them along. Finally, they determined there was now enough space between the car and Hutch to be able to safely slide him out. This was going to be a bit tricky.

   They placed additional cribbing underneath some of the spaces they had created for extra support and removed the driver's side door to allow them more room to work.

   The two paramedics got on either side of Hutch, each hooking an arm under an armpit in preparation to pull him out onto the spinal board. The board was positioned just behind Hutch's head and supported in place by two of the rescue workers. Chris and Mike were getting in position to pull him out and onto the board in one quick, smooth motion.

   Starsky just stood above Mike watching intensely as he held onto the IV bottle which had been changed two times since Chris first started it.

   Hutch looked at them nervously, knowing that once they began moving him, the bone fragments in his crushed leg were going to be painfully jostled. He was breathing rapidly in anticipation, and he actually began sweating a little which stung his lacerated forehead. At least both paramedics liked the idea of him sweating. It showed he was starting to re-hydrate.

   Chris looked at Mike, "Okay, on my count, one...two...three!" As they pulled Hutch out and onto the board he arched his back and let out a blood-curdling scream. Starsky gasped and threw himself at Hutch's side.

   Finally frustrated with holding the IV bottle, he passed it to one of the rescue crew. "Here, hold this," he said, then positioned himself at Hutch's head and began stroking his hair.

   "Shhh, it's okay, it's okay. Calm down. Just relax, huh?"

   Hutch squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to will the pain to subside.

   "They got you out, buddy, but they need to splint your leg."

   Hutch grabbed onto his partner's jacket. "Oh...! It hurts! Oh shit, it hurts! Starsk! Please...don't let them touch it! Oh God, don't let them touch it!" He pleaded.

   Starsky spoke softly as he continued to stroke the blond's hair. "You have to calm down, Hutch, they have to splint you. It'll only hurt worse once they start moving you if they don't."

   "I can't! I can't! Starsky, it hurts too much...please don't let them touch it. The pain is too much!" Hutch continued his tight grip on his partner's jacket. It seemed all the pent up stress was finally beginning to seep out of him, and he was loosing control of his emotions.

   Starsky felt himself getting excited. "Hutch! Listen to me! The only way they can bring you out of this canyon and into the ambulance without causing more injury to your leg is by splinting it! It'll only hurt worse if they don't! Just take a deep breath and calm down. Okay, buddy?"

   Hutch took a couple of deep breaths and, after a few moments, finally collected himself.

   "All right, go ahead." He relaxed his tight grip on Starsky's jacket, squeezed his eyes shut and tensed up as he waited for what was coming next.

   Starsky nodded towards Mike, giving him the go-ahead, but he stayed by Hutch's side.

   Mike cut away Hutch's blue jeans, exposing the crushed leg and examined it for protruding bone fragments and impaled objects such as branches and roots. He was grateful that he didn't find any.

   Starsky winced and felt a wave of light-headedness as he stared at Hutch's deformed lower leg. It was angled in the center as if it were a joint.

   He had never been bothered that way on the streets when he had to endure the horrible conditions of the many victims he encountered. But this was different. This was Hutch. He remembered Mike telling him the other day that he had almost fainted as he watched his young son get a few stitches in his chin after falling onto the edge of a coffee table.

   The paramedic team gently lifted the leg to apply the splints. Hutch arched his back and again screamed out. Without thinking, Hutch reached up to his hovering partner, grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him down on top of him into a tight bear hug. Starsky just let himself be manhandled by Hutch. Besides, he suddenly wasn't feeling strong enough to stop him even if he wanted to.

   Hutch screamed, "Please, stop! My leg! Put it down! Put it down! Starsky, they're ripping it off!"

   He was able to feel the bone fragments grinding against each other causing painful muscle spasms. It felt like a knife slicing deeply from the top of his thigh all the way to his foot.

   "Okay, Hutch, nobody is ripping it off. Just let them work. They don't want your bones moving around. They're almost done; you're gonna be fine. Just let them finish splinting it for you."

   Hutch just kept a tight hold around Starsky and breathed heavily into the oxygen mask.

   After applying the make-shift splints and returning it to the spinal board, the pain began to finally subside. Slowly, he released his partner from his tight grasp.

   "Sorry, Starsky...I didn't mean to grab you like that," Hutch said between heavy breaths. He was sweating more heavily now.

   "'S'okay Hutch, that's what buddies are for."

   As they prepared Hutch for transport out of the canyon, Starsky took a moment to sit back and collect himself. He was still feeling a bit off kilter from the sight of that leg. He reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a candy bar and began devouring it. The pure sugar began to slowly return him to normal.

   I wish all medicine tasted like this, Starsky silently mused.

   Hutch noticed the silence and lack of movement. He darted his eyes in Starsky's direction the best he could.

   "Starsk, are you all right?"

   "Oh yeah...just fine...I just need a little breather."

   "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

   "No, Blondie, really...I'll be okay, I just need a minute."

   "Are you sure?"

   "Yeah, don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

   The rescue crew had a wire Stokes basket brought down to the site. After strapping Hutch securely to the board, the paramedics, assisted by the now mostly recovered Starsky, lifted the board and its passenger, gently placing him into the shallow, elongated basket. They strapped the board and Hutch securely in place. Using long strips of strong bandage tape, they literally taped down the collar Hutch was wearing by running the strips across the collar and securing the ends to the board. This was to further immobilize Hutch's head and neck. All the confinement was making him feel claustrophobic.

   The three rescue members and two paramedics lifted the entire package and proceeded up the ravine with Starsky also gripping the basket with one hand and holding the IV bottle in the other.

   The thick brush and steepness of the canyon made the trip to the roadway a real struggle. They were forced to stop twice along the way to catch their breaths and readjust their grips on the basket.

   As they loaded Hutch into the ambulance, Mike turned to Starsky. "Go drink some orange juice, that'll help you feel a little better. That leg did look ugly." With that said, he took the IV bottle from Starsky and hopped in the back of the ambulance to stay with Hutch. Chris took the wheel.

   Damn, he's good, Starsky thought silently.

   The ambulance sped off to the hospital. Starsky jumped in his Torino and followed. Both vehicles had their lights and sirens blaring the whole way.

   While in route, Starsky radioed Dobey to inform him of the latest status.

   The squad car Starsky asked for arrived to transport Humphries allowing him to be able to go straight to the hospital with his partner.

    **********************

   Starsky and Captain Dobey had been in the waiting area for about three and a half hours with Starsky impatiently pacing the floor for most of it. The five cups of coffee he drank only increased his edginess.

   "What are they doing with him in there?" Starsky blurted out in exasperation.

   "Starsky, pacing a hole in the floor isn't going to hurry things along, these things take time."

   "I know, Captain, but no one came out even once to give us any information on what's going on."

   "How are they supposed to work on him if they're out here talking to you? ...Let them do their job. They'll tell us something as soon as they're ready to."

   As if on cue, a middle aged woman dressed in green scrubs and a white lab coat came into the waiting area towards the two men. "Excuse me, is one of you a Mr. Starsky?"

   "I am," came the reply. "How is he?"

   "Mr. Starsky, my name is Dr. Kam Littleton and I've been taking care of your friend Kenneth Hutchinson. Mr. Hutchinson has given us verbal permission to release information to you since he has no family in this area."

   Captain Dobey approached Dr. Littleton. "Doctor, how is Detective Hutchinson doing?"

   "Mr. Hutchinson has several medical problems right now, however none of them are life threatening. But he will be out of commission for quite some time, I'm afraid. At the moment we are in the process of re-hydrating him. He is very dehydrated. Any longer without fluids and he may have began suffering kidney failure.

   "Since he had no food intake for days, his electrolytes are low, particularly his potassium and sodium levels.... We are administering them now. He's also in hypoglycemia."

   "Wait," Starsky said, "he isn't diabetic."

   "You don't have to be diabetic to become hypoglycemic, just be deprived of sugar. Haven't you ever felt dizzy from going a long while without eating? Maybe you also had a horrible taste in your mouth?"

   "Yeah, after spending unending hours in a courtroom usually."

   "Then you experienced hypoglycemia yourself."   

   "Oh. Well, what else is going on with my partner?" Starsky was anxious to know every last detail of his friend's condition.

   "He has also has several dicubidi ulcers on his shoulders, parts of his lower back and buttocks. These are commonly known as open bed sores that are normally a result of laying in one spot for a long period of time. They were irrigated, packed with sterile medicated gauze, and will be closely watched for infection until they heal up. He will have to be on antibiotics in the meantime. He's also extremely exhausted from the entire ordeal and will need lots of undisturbed bed rest."

   Starsky was looking at her with shock and asked the question he was afraid to ask. "The leg, Doc.... How's the leg?"

   "The leg is our biggest concern right now. Both of the long bones in his lower leg, the fibula and tibia, were fractured. They were broken in three places but they were clean breaks and did not break through the joint...so there is no danger of arthritis or chronic pain from this. The orthopedic team reduced the bones and placed a heavy splint on his leg."

   Starsky looked confused. "Reduced?"

   "They realigned his bones, Mr. Starsky, just think of it as putting a jigsaw puzzle together."

   "Starsky...just call me Starsky."

   Dr. Littleton smiled. "Okay, Starsky. Hopefully with the proper care and with strict adherence to our medical advice, the bones should heal nicely without him having to go to the operating room for skeletal pins and/or rods."

    Starsky sighed knowing full well how stubborn his partner could be about following medical advice, especially if it was going to put him out of commission. Damn...he's going to be a handful...I just know it.

   Captain Dobey looked at the doctor. "Dr. Littleton, is that all of it?"   

   "Hopefully, Captain, but right now we're monitoring his leg for a condition called compartment syndrome which is most common in victims of a crush injury, much like what he's experienced. It's the excessive bleeding into the spaces between the muscles and skin. This causes a pressure build up in that limb and can pinch blood vessels and nerves, interfering with circulation and nerve impulses. It's accompanied by severe swelling and pain. We're going to monitor the leg over the next few days which is the main reason for the splint right now. Hopefully we will be able to cast him soon which will provide more stability to the fracture."

   Starsky, was still reeling a bit from the news. "Doctor, I want to see him."

   "We have him on strong pain medication so he can sleep peacefully. Perhaps you will be able to see him in the morning."

   "Please, Doctor, you don't understand.... I need to be there with him. For three days I didn't know he if he was dead or alive. He's my partner, we're always by each other's side.... He would never leave me here alone and I couldn't do that to him. He was scared to death down in that ravine and he'll probably be just as scared and confused when he awakens. I need to be there, Doc...please."

   Dr. Littleton saw a genuinely concerned man who was somewhat frightened himself. "All right, Starsky." Her voice suddenly became very authoritative. "You may go in, but let me warn you, if you disturb him or interfere with any of his nursing care, I will see that you are tossed out of here and not allowed to return. Do I make myself clear?!"

   "Yes, ma'am," was his only reply.

   "In that case, Mr. Hutchinson is up in room 223." She lowered her voice to a more calming tone. "I should've known you would feel strongly about being in there. All the while we had him in the E.R. he kept asking for his partner." With that said, she turned and walked away.

   Starsky turned to Captain Dobey. "Captain, I don't know how long I'll be here with him, but I want to stay until he wakes up."

   Captain Dobey knew better than to try to put a time limit on him, so instead he just said, "I understand your concern for your partner, but the D.A is going to want those reports filled out, especially when they may result in a disbarring hearing for Humphries' lawyer James Balford. From the information I have gathered so far, it seems he may have had knowledge of Hutch's disappearance."

   Starsky looked at him with fire in his eyes. "I should've known that low-life scum was in on it."

   "You go be with your partner I'll need to dig out more information on this crooked lawyer." Captain Dobey wanted to stay and visit with Hutch but thought it would be best to let Starsky have his time alone with him for a while. He would be back the next day when Hutch would hopefully be awake and ready to answer some questions himself.

   "Thanks, Captain, I'll keep you informed on any changes."

   Captain Dobey nodded. "You do that." With that said, he turned and proceeded down the hall towards the exit.

   Starsky ran quickly up to Hutch's room. When he entered, Hutch was in bed sound asleep. He was on an inflatable mattress to help keep the pressure off the ulcers. He had been bathed, his face shaved, and hair combed. The laceration on his forehead had been cleaned and bandaged. His broken leg was in a large splint that went from his toes up to his thigh. The splint was made of thick bulky cotton, with several layers of long wide plaster strips running down the inside and outside of his leg and was held together with several ace wraps. A very large bag of ice sat over the fracture site. The leg was elevated to help alleviate any swelling. He was hooked up to yet more IV bottles which continued to re-hydrate him.

   Hutch looked so peaceful lying there, compared to just a few hours earlier when he was so frightened and writhing in pain down in that ditch. It almost calmed the still nervous Starsky.

   Starsky stood on the left side of the bed and stared down at him for a long while. He felt infinitely grateful that he'd found his partner alive. Three days of not knowing where his friend was, was enough to age him at least 20 years. Starsky pulled up a chair next to the bed, then lowered its railing and again took hold of Hutch's hand as if he needed physical contact just to make sure he was really there.

   He looked at his watch which read 2:35 a.m. He put his head down on the mattress intending to rest his own weary eyes for just a few minutes.

   The next thing Starsky knew, there was a gentle hand on his head, stroking his hair. He sat up with a start, confused for a moment as to where he was. He saw from the window, the sun was beginning to crack the horizon. He next looked down at Hutch who was watching him through barely cracked eyelids and grinning weakly. By then, Starsky remembered everything. He looked at his watch and was shocked to discover it was 5:30 a.m. He grunted at the pain in his back as he continued to straighten up.

    Starsky beamed down at his partner, grateful to see him awake. He put his hand on the side of Hutch's face and in a low soothing voice, he said, "Hey, partner, I see they have you all fixed up here. How are ya feelin'?"

   Every inch of Hutch's body ached. He only had enough energy to speak just above a whisper. "I feel like I've been tackled by the entire defensive end of the Minnesota Vikings."

   "Yeah, well, you look it, buddy. How's the leg feeling?"

   "Throbbing, but I suppose that's to be expected. Starsky, you don't have to stay here with me, I'll be all right. You look horrible, go home and take care of yourself."

   "Hutch, I should be here in case you need anything."

   "Starsky, I'm sure all I'm going to do for a long while is sleep, I'm so tired." With a weak smile added, "You promised I can for as long as I wanted to once I got here. Why don't you get yourself something to eat, and get some sleep. You really look terrible."

   "Sure, what you really want to tell me is to take a long shower but you're just being polite." Starsky said with a grin. He was rewarded with a weak one from Hutch..

    Starsky noticed he was starting to fade again. He reached up and stroked the blond hair and whispered "Okay, buddy, I'll be back this afternoon. You just rest. Call me if you need anything at all, okay?"

   "'Kay."

   Starsky stood up and smoothed the blankets around his friend."

   "I'm sorry, Starsk."

   "Sorry for what?"

   "For acting like a big baby down in that ravine."

   "That?" Starsky continued in a hushed tone "Hutch, I don't think anyone would've acted any differently if they were put in that same situation. Moving that leg around like that hadda hurt like hell. I know you're tough, and I know you can take pain really well. I was just glad I was able to be there for you. Now go to sleep, you need your rest."

   Hutch was fading fast and was nearly asleep. "Okay".

   Starsky raised the railing to the bed.

   "Starsk."

   "Yeah, buddy."

   "Thank you for finding me." With that said Hutch was finally sleep.

   "Any time, partner." Starsky felt his eyes stinging a bit at Hutch's words. "Any time."

   Starsky stared at his sleeping friend for a while before he finally left to go home. After a long shower and a bite to eat, he fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as his head hit his own pillow. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he was finally able to sleep peacefully which he did through the entire morning.

   

PART TWO