Starsky and Hutch – The Octopus

Disclaimer: Starsky and Hutch is not my creation and doesn't belong to me. I just want to play around with the characters for a while. No infringement of rights intended, this is written for fun and hopefully for the amusement of fellow writers.

Characters: Starsky and Hutch

Genre: Hurt/comfort, crime, drama, friendship, angst

Time/Spoilers: "Sweet Revenge" related and set at the end of the recovery period. It also helps if you've seen "A Coffin for Starsky" and "The Plague."

Summary: Seven months after the almost fatal shooting in the parking area at the BCPD DS Dave Starsky is almost back to his normal self. Despite the doctors predictions about not being able to get back on the streets he's only got one obstacle left to get past – the Police Doctor. However, when the big day comes, other problems arises and suddenly both Starsky and Hutch find themselves in a situation where nothing else matters than to stay alive.

Beta: Kejfe Blintz – thank you so much for your time and invaluable help, for eliminating my mistakes and make this story better!

OOOOOO

Chapter One – Back to Bay City

Doctor John Meredith sighed deeply, inhaling the somewhat chilly morning air outside Bay City airport. Despite the early spring, temperatures had been rising to hit the record marks and it felt like the early summer. The lean, good looking doctor looked around with a frown until his eyes settled on his much younger colleague, Doctor Judith Kaufman. She walked briskly toward him, having collected her suitcase, the small wheels of the hard cased bag echoing in the tight space of the tarmac and glass arrivals hall.

"There you are," Doctor Meredith said. "I wondered where you'd got to."

Judith flashed him a dazzling smile, her curls bumping on her shoulders as she gently slapped his shoulder. Having worked together for almost eight years now, her having started out as a pupil to him, they had developed a close father and daughter relationship.

"I had to wait for my bag and when I finally found it, you'd disappeared," she explained as he opened the door for her.

They stepped out on the sidewalk, waiting for a cab to come and pick them up.

"It looks the same, nothing has changed in three years. Even the flower arrangements here at the airport haven't changed." Judith said with a smile. "I wonder…"

Whatever she'd intended to say to her colleague got abruptly cut off as a police cruiser, which had been standing to the side, suddenly turned on the siren and began a wild dash down the street.

"Well, at least there's no major outbreaks of any unknown viruses this time," Doctor Meredith returned with a twinkle in his eye as he turned to her. The police car accelerating down the street involuntarily sent him back to events three years prior.

"No, thank heavens it's only a seminar. It's going to be nice to sit down and listen for a change," Judith admitted. "Maybe have a nice time and do some sightseeing as we're not here to work?"

"Maybe catch up with some old acquaintances?" The senior doctor asked with a slightly teasing undertone.

"John," Judith said feigning a look of surprise before she broke into a grin and confessed. "I do wonder what Ken and Dave are doing nowadays."

OOOOOO

Jo-Anne Fields was tired, tired of having to turn every penny, tired of not being able to have enough money in her pocket. She was a good looking woman in her early forties but she also knew that the older she got the less attractive she would become. Occasionally she'd been able to sweet talk herself on a nice vacation with a handsome man to a beach far away but she'd never managed to keep a man. Unfortunately she lacked the intelligence to see what she was doing wrong every time. Some claimed she was selfish, uncaring of others, lazy and every now and then someone told her she was too heavily into gambling for her own good.

Determined to break bad habits she'd cut down on the games she played, she'd even paid some of her debts. Unfortunately some loan sharks where harder to shake than others. However, when she got a job as a caretaker of a wealthy yet permanently injured man she became confident that everything would be all right.

The months flew by and, occasionally, she had great fun with the man but sometimes the duties disgusted her. She fed him when necessary – he couldn't on a bad day, she helped him in the bathroom when it was required and she cooked for him. On a good day she took him to the cinema. Outwards, to his friends and, even to some of hers, it looked like they were a perfect match. Feeling that he was slowly taking the life out of her she became desperate to do something in order to get away. At the same time the man was nice to her, sweet even and it made her decision so much harder.

Then one day, in early February, he'd called her to his bedside and asked her if she would like to tour the African continent with him and that she'd see it as a gift for being his friend. Of course she'd have to help him while on vacation but if that was a price she was willing to pay the trip would be arranged.

For the first time in months Jo-Anne was truly happy. She would get away from the monotonous life of Bay City's richer quarters, away from the loans, away from prying eyes. She promised herself that when she got back she'd start anew.

However, as usual for Jo-Anne, things never did go as she planned. Despite taking care of Daniel, who sat on a fortune, inherited from his parents, she didn't get any of it and her pay was well within the limits set for the job. It was then she'd started to flirt with Daniel's bank accountant – Mr. Irish.

Wrapping the man around her little finger she convinced him to take enough money from Daniel's account for her to pay off every loan she'd acquired. On that day, she finished work, walked up to Daniel, kissed his forehead and said goodbye. She left with his fortune.

OOOOOO

Captain Harold Dobey looked up from the file on his desk to cast a glance at the clock. Tiredly he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. It was still early in the morning but he had got little sleep during the night. Rosie had been sick and Edith had divided her time between their bedroom and Rosie's room across the hallway. Dobey inhaled deeply and blinked several times, trying to clear his head a bit. He reached for the cup of coffee standing on his desk but stopped himself short on drinking it as he realized it had been almost an hour since he brought it to his office from the squad room.

He put down the cup again and rearranged the papers on his desk. He had a lot to do, it seemed reports where dropping in like there was no tomorrow and the chief of police was onto him about statistics. His eyes lingered on a report completed by Detective Sergeant Hutchinson. A case where he and his former partner, David Starsky, had worked undercover to flush out a dealer. They'd outdone themselves and brought in not only the main man but several others as well.

Then came the whole mess with Gunther and the attempt on their lives. Dobey's eyes darkened and his mood turned sombre as he thought back.

To the police captain it was a small miracle that David Starsky didn't die there on that day back in August. Every medically trained professional had told him and Hutch, and the rest of the police force members waiting for news, that he was too damaged to survive.

Dobey involuntarily shuddered as he glanced toward the window of his office. He could still hear the shots, could still picture the young detective lying motionless in the parking lot when he looked through the window. The blood - there had been so much of it. He remembered Hutch frantically trying to help his partner as several uniform officers circled them in order to shield them from any more harm.

He remembered the action it triggered on the streets. The shooters had stirred a hornet's nest, attacking a police officer at their own backyard. Every available unit was out, furiously looking for the men dressed like officers, and those who didn't, followed the ambulance to the Memorial Hospital to see how Starsky was faring.

The radio and television reporters went crazy as they got hold of the story. Some of them even tried to get to Starsky and then to Hutch in order for a comment.

Seven months had passed since then and the man behind it, James Gunther, had been sentenced. Hutch oversaw the trial, testified against him and convinced several thugs in the low supply chain of the Gunther Corporation to come forward. He had been rewarded by a heavy sentence to which Gunther couldn't buy himself free from. However, even if that was a triumph in itself it still didn't save David Starsky the agony and pain that Gunther had brought upon him.

Dobey knew Starsky and he knew that the man would do everything he could, even if it meant he had to fight tooth and nail for it, in order to get back into shape and rejoin Hutch. Unfortunately, Dobey also knew that after the damage Starsky's body had sustained and despite the speedy recovery – if you could call seven months a speedy recovery - there was a very strong possibility that he would not be able to regain his former job.

The police captain turned his head slightly to his left and reached for another folder sitting alone at the end of the desk. He carefully opened it, staring at a photograph and into the deep blue eyes of one First Class Detective Sergeant David Starsky. The folder contained several new facts, some of it typed while others had been hastily scribbled down on scraps of paper attached to the set of papers inside. One of the notes made Dobey's mood plummet. It was a green note and written in blue ink was one capitalized word; discharge.

OOOOOO

Detective Constable Rawlins discreetly grabbed for the handle to steady himself as Hutch rallied around the corner, the tires of his old, worn and battered, Ford Galaxie screeching.

The younger man's right foot unconsciously pressing against the floor on the passenger side of the car as if to try and brake as they neared the accident site that 'Zebra Three' had been called to.

Several uniformed officers and the state coroner was already on location. Officers carefully swept the place, looking for hidden clues while the doctor rose from his kneeling position next to a battered woman and disposed of his gloves.

Doctor Charles Murphy, or 'Doctor Dead' as Starsky often called him, glanced up from the grim scene in front of him as Hutch made his way over to him with Rawlins in tow.

"Hey, doc, what have we got here?" Hutch asked grimly.

"A pretty straight forward case, at least from my point of view," the short and balding doctor returned. "This woman, appearing to be approximately forty years old, bared the brunt of a blunt object to her head. Her skull is fractured. I'd say it was intended from the attacker's point of view but as to who that might be and why I'll leave to you."

Hutch's lips twisted upwards at the doctor's way of delivering the grim news in a soft and yet caring way. "Thanks doc," he said.

"Listen, Hutch. I didn't know you'd returned to duty?" The kind, round doctor said.

"I've only been back on the streets for a couple of days," the blond First Class Detective Sergeant confessed. "Perhaps it's what I need? It's just that I keep looking to my side and expect Starsky to be there."

Doctor Murphy pursed his lips into a thin line and turned his gaze to the ground for a moment as if contemplating what to say. Then he returned his focus to Hutch, his face looking awfully serious for the otherwise easy going coroner.

"Look, I know you've heard it before and I bet Dave would throw something at me if he heard me say this but it needs to be said. He's a very lucky man; you both are. Believe me, Hutch, I may not be a practicing doctor in a sense of saving lives but I have the qualification for it. Given the amount of damage done to your partner's body by the automatic gunfire, he should not have been able to survive, let alone recover to the extent that he would be able to take his place next to you as a plain clothed detective," Murphy said gravely.

Hutch swallowed at the doctor's words and took a deep, somewhat shaky breath. "It's that last part I'm afraid of," he let on. "And I'm not the only one."

OOOOOO

/To be continued – I would love to hear from you ;)