The Only Thing That Matters is What's Sitting Right Here in My lap…

A brief scene from "The Fix"

"Get away from me! Leave me alone!" Hutch cried out, every muscle twitching painfully, uncontrollably while his eyes, sunken beneath their bruised sockets, filled with anger, then fear as another wave of pain and the craving for heroin attacked his system.

His body bucked against mine, trying to push me away but I just held on to him tighter as I sat in the middle of the bed with my back propped up against the wall in the small room above Huggy's bar.

I pressed my cheek against the fine blond hair, now a tangled mess, of my best friend leaning up against me, curled up in a fetal position as another set of spasms assaulted his gut, making him double over and into himself.

"Uhhhhhhh!"

"Come on buddy, just try and relax," I said to him.

The blond head shook matching the jerking spasm throughout his body.

Hutch's pulse was so elevated that I was worried he may have a heart attack if not treated properly. His arm was black and blue from the injection sites, and his pupils were very large, dilated.

"No! No you creep!" Hutch fought me hard, caught up in the throes of the torture he'd endured.

I countered each shove, each push, each clawing motion with a firm but hopefully gently touch, afraid I'd hurt him, but I needed to keep him still, needed to keep him from hurting himself.

I tried to get him to drink some more coffee, but he knocked the cup from my hand again.

"Keep away from me!" he cried. Every muscle was tight with agitation, and all I could do was watch the cup shatter on the floor.

"Come on, buddy. Just hang in there. Just hang in there." I held my partner closer as he fought me.

"Starsk! Starsk! Help me! Help me!" he cried out.

His cry tore at my gut.

"I'm right here, buddy. Right here!" I assured him.

His eyes became wide as he stared somewhere off into space. "No! Stay away, get away from me!" Hutch twitch, ducked his head, tried to shrink away from the demons around him.

My heart wedged in my throat, threatening to literally choke me as I sat and listened to his terror, his pain.

I gripped him tightly, rubbed his arm, cupped his head against my chest.

"It's okay, buddy. I'm right here, babe. I'm right here."

Hutch's eyes darted fearfully around a second before he suddenly stopped struggling.

He shivered, looking bewildered. "Starsk?"

I rubbed his back some more. "Yeah, babe. It's me, buddy."

His teeth started to chatter. "S-so cold."

I grabbed the edge of the comforter, shifting my weight so I could wrap it around him, around both of us.

"Don't go! Don't go!"

"I ain't going any, babe. Ain't going anywhere!"

His arms were curled fetally against his chest, but I could feel the long fingers tugging on my shirt. "Need some medicine…please…please, Starsk…just get me some medicine. You know where to find it, please…"

His plea was killing me inside, inch by painful inch and making me so fucking angry at the same time. Those bastards! Those fucking bastards!

"You're gonna be okay, Hutch. You're gonna to be okay. I'm gonna get you through this, understand…together we're gonna get through this and then I'm gonna get the bastards who did this to ya."

"Can't…I hurt. I hurt too much, please help me…"

"I know you hurt, buddy. I know. Just lean on me. Lean on me, pal. I gotcha ya."

I did whatever I could for him but deep down I was really scared.

Had I done the right thing keeping him out of the hospital, trying to cover everything up? I didn't know how much stuff they had pumped into him. What if he started having seizures? What if Hutch died of an overdose in my arms?

I knew I would never be able live with myself if that happened, but I didn't think Hutch could survive the alternative. If I took him in, that'd be it. His career would be finished and no one would fuckin' care that none of this, none of it was his damn fault.

So I just sat there, holding onto him and prayed. Prayed that I was doin' the right thing, prayed he was gonna be all right.

I felt his body twist up again as another spasm brought agony to my best friend.

"Sick. I'm gonna be sick," he gagged and wretched into the towel I had nearby. It wasn't much, just bile, but it left Hutch spent and weak by the time he was done.

I rubbed his back as he buried his face in my lap.

Huggy brought me fresh towels, a cool washcloth.

I washed his face, his mouth then brought the blanket back around him. For a moment he lay completely spent in my arms, limp, exhausted.

I knew it would only be a short reprieve though before the next bought of pain from the withdraw started to claw its way through him, but for the moment he rested and so did I, rubbing his sweat soaked back gently, unconcerned about the stench of body odor and vomit covering us both by now.

Hutch lay huddled in my lap mumbling incoherently in a restless sleep.

I knew both of us were going to be in for a hell of a long haul, but I didn't care. I was going be there with him every step of the way, because there was just no where else to go, to be when the only thing that matters is what's sitting right here in my lap…

Me and thee, buddy…me and thee…