The Major Redemption.

The sequel to The Major Incident.

Still coming to terms with his mistreatment at the hands of Sharpe, and the repercussions it had had for his partner, both Starsky and Hutch need a much needed break. But once again, things don't go too smoothly for our guys.

With special thanks to Strut, Delia and Shawne – thanks for the encouragement ladies

And to my wonderfully understanding husband who put up with long bouts of silence as I spent the Christmas holidays writing.(But what else can you do in December in wet and windy England?)

Chapter 1

It was dark and airless. He'd felt that stuffy foggy nothingness before, and hated its associations. It was associated with a bone deep cold, like nothing on earth would ever make him feel warm again. In his sleep, Starsky thrashed his head from side to side against his pillow, muttering under his breath curses and whimpers, until finally he could stand it no longer and the horror of it shook him awake. He lay bathed in sweat, his breathing heavy and ragged as he tried to slow down the laboured pumping of his heart.

Slowly, his breathing regulated and he felt able to sit up. Pushing himself to his feet, he padded barefoot into the bathroom and turned on the tap. Cupping his hand under the cool water, he took a couple of mouthfuls before splashing the rest on his face. He straightened and looked at his reflection in the mirror, indigo eyes staring back at him, seeming to mock his anxiety.

This was the better of the nightmares he'd had recently. All involved some level of pain, but the worst were the ones involving Hutch. He didn't want to think about those now. They made is anxiety worse, so that he couldn't think straight. He would never have admitted it to Hutch, and certainly not to his shrink, that after these dreams, he had sometimes woken to find his Beretta in his hand, as he stared down its barrel. On those occasions, it had taken all his will to slowly unclench his fingers and lay down the weapon. The last time it had happened, he had scared himself so much with the intensity of the feelings that he had taken to locking it away last thing at night. He was not so much scared of pulling the trigger, but more of allowing his partner of seven years to patrol the streets without him. His anger split between the fact that Sharpe had brain washed him into hurting the man who was closer to him than a brother, and the disgust he felt at himself, knowing he had only been able to withstand five days before he was broken.

Slowly he made his way back to the bedroom and looked down at the bed. Dreading a rerun of the dream, he shrugged, checking his clock. 5.00 am. Slipping on sweat pants and top he quietly exited his apartment and started a five mile run down to the ocean and back, stretching the muscles that had been damaged by Sharpe.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

8.00 am and Hutch was surprised to see the Torino parked outside his apartment. He walked out of his bedroom just as his dark haired partner pushed open his front door and entered.

Clutching at his chest in mock pain, he croaked 'Oh My God. Three days straight he's early!'

Starsky smiled and ambled over to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and took out a beer.

'Bit early for that, even for your breakfast pal' said Hutch, evenly, walking towards his partner, noticing that of late the famous Starsky Strut had vanished, to be replaced by an almost defeated gait.

'Just get off my back will ya. Ya sound like my Mom' the brunette spat, pushing the cap of the bottle off against the counter top.

Hutch stopped in his tracks. 'Another bad night buddy?' he asked softly.

Starsky plodded over to the settee and plonked himself down, gazing at the bottle in his hand. 'Sorry Blondie'. He rubbed at the back of his neck, stretching the tense muscles. 'Just wish the dreams would stop. Hell, it's been four months now. I've had so many sessions with the doctor at Cabrillo that they're thinking of naming a wing after me. But every night I go to bed dog tired and then shake myself awake with one dream or another'.

Hutch sat beside him on the arm of the settee. 'You still taking your meds?'

The smaller man nodded. 'Sure. They send me to la la land for about four hours, then that's it. I can't take any more after that coz if I do I'll be no use to either of us on the street. Probably end up getting you hurt………again'. The last came out in a strangled sob, as Hutch put a protective arm around his partner and pulled the dark haired man to him.

He thought back to that time four months previously. Brigadier General Sharpe had arrived at the Metro asking Dobey to release Major David Starsky from police duties as his army service had been reactivated. He wanted Starsky and Hutch to go under cover to investigate some suspicious deaths at a training camp in Guatemala. Starsky had gone on ahead, ostensibly to take command, but of course it had been a trap. The General had blamed Starsky for bringing an end to his promotion prospects after Starsky had written a damning report naming him as the CO in a mission where Starsky had been captured with two others behind enemy lines in Vietnam. Starsky and his team had been held for five months, and tortured each day, whilst Sharpe denied all knowledge of them.

Sharpe this time used Starsky's own knowledge of mind altering techniques against him. He was made to stand naked in the stress position for up to six hours at a time and electro shocked for ten hours, as he watched pictures of Vietnamese atrocities interspersed with pictures of Hutch smiling and laughing.

He suffered the treatment for six days before Hutch had run with his gut feelings and gone to Gautemala early. He was also captured, but having been brain washed, it was Starsky who had tortured Hutch. Only Hutch's pleas of 'Me and Thee' had broken through the programming. Eventually Starsky had shot Sharpe dead, but not before Sharpe had shot both the detectives with one bullet, passing through each in turn as they tried to make their escape.

They were air lifted to the army hospital at St Augustine, Florida where they both eventually recovered sufficiently to return to Bay City. Hutch's injuries were the first to heal, but he was granted sick leave to help his partner come to terms with the treatment he had both received and delivered.

Unknown to Starsky, Hutch was also undergoing counselling. Hutch hadn't told his friend as he felt the brunette had enough to deal with without worrying about him too. Truth was that although on one level Hutch had immediately forgiven the smaller man for everything he had been forced to do, on a deeper level, he was still dealing with the betrayal he was angry to admit lurked beneath he surface. As Starsky had repeatedly pressed the electric cattle prod against the blonde's body, the pain Hutch felt burned a niggling doubt about his friendship into his core. Hutch didn't know what was worse – the pain he now admitted he felt at the memories, or the pain he saw his friend in every day since the mission

He shook himself and concentrated on the curly haired man sitting next to him. Starsky ran an angry hand over his face, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

'You OK now, buddy? It'll get better, honest. You just gotta give it time. And maybe a bit less beer for breakfast?'

Starsky put the bottle down, a forced smile onto his face. 'I deserved it. I've done five miles this morning, whilst you were still giving it the zees in bed'. He sighed. 'You're right, I suppose I have to be patient, but I'm sick of feelin' like this'. The look on his face pulled at the blonds' heart strings as he saw the man he's known for so long reduced from a strong confident police officer to an edgy, broken man.

He patted the smaller mans knee. 'OK Gordo. Captain Marvel ready to save Bay City for another day?'

Starsky smiled and got up. 'Ready when you are, but we gotta go into the office first. Dobey wanted to see us this morning. Then we see Marvin down at the docks at 11.00 – says he's got some news on the perp from the docks murder last week'. Hutch watched as the brunette walked tiredly to the door, before picking up his gun and his black leather jacket and following his partner to the striped tomato parked outside.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The journey to the metro was done at a reasonably sedate pace, considering that Starsky was driving. They kept up a friendly inane banter about the weather, the meal they had had the previous evening, the game on TV. Twenty minutes later. Starsky pulled the powerful car to a stop in his customary parking spot right outside the front door of the Metro.

Inside, they said good morning in passing to two uniformed officers heading out, Starsky asking about John's new born daughter, then headed upstairs to the squad room. After stopping at the coffee machine for two cups of steaming black brew, they knocked on Dobey's office door and entered. The big black man sat behind his desk reading a sheaf of papers and wiping absently at his face with a big orange handkerchief. Looking up, he eyed the two detectives and gruffly told them to sit.

The two men looked at each other, then obeyed, Starsky slumping in the easy chair by the door, and Hutch perching on the arm next to his friend.

'Lemme ask you a question, gentlemen', Dobey growled. 'If you had a cop on the team who was exhausted and refusing to take leave, what would you do?' He stared at the two men.

They looked at each other then back at Dobey, realising where this was going.

'What are you trying to say captain?'

'Well look at you both. You look like shit. Hutch, I've seen paler circles on the eyes of Pandas then there are on your eyes. An' Starsky, you must have lost at least twelve pounds. You both need a break, and I intend to make sure you take one. I've been in touch with welfare and as a result I have booked you both on a vacation cruise'.

'Now wait a minute Cap' Hutch started.

'Don't "wait a minute Cap" me Hutchinson. You're both going and that's that. And I expect you both to return bright eyes and bushy tailed and ready to get some proper police work done. See Minnie downstairs. She has your tickets and itinerary.'. With that, he put his head down, signalling the meeting was at an end. As the two men got up to leave, he added 'Oh, and Starsky? Adidas are not usually worn with dinner suits'.

The curly haired man reached for the door, slamming it behind him as he heard his Captain's voice shouting 'And don't slam the door!'