Brother Love

by ElspethNZ

Starsky is recovering from the physical damage of Gunther's bullets but how is his mental state? Hutch is on hand to take care of Starsky but then Nick arrives on the scene and more tension unfolds. An 'angsty' story with h/c for both Starsky and Hutch!

September 2004

BROTHER LOVE

by: Elspeth

It had been three weeks now since Detective David Starsky had been shot. Assumed dead by his would be assassin in the police garage. He had taken three bullets from the unknown hit man as his partner Detective Ken Hutchinson had screamed his name trying desperately to warn him of the impending hit.

The hired killer had failed however. He shot his target from out of his car window as the vehicle rounded the corner, clipping a parked car in its path. The killer's car was a stolen police car, especially chosen for the job to avoid suspicion amongst all the others when the killer carried out his contract.

All three bullets had found their mark, tearing into the detective's back as he turned for protection, facing into his own car, at the same time struggling to reach for his gun. Only he couldn't get his gun in time from its holster strapped to his body. He couldn't protect his body quick enough to avoid the bullets. It was too quick; lightning speed, not enough time to react. Whoever the killer was had done his research well. Strike when least expected and where least expected. Catch them off guard in the false security of the police garage. No one else would be so bold and brazen perhaps the killer had thought. He had done well and would be rewarded accordingly.

The curly haired detective was felled instantly his body reeling from the force of the three projectiles that burned a ragged trail through his back. His head snapped back as his back arched forward and then his knees gave way. The pain was agonizing and the shock instant, he didn't have the voice to even cry out. Was this how it would end he had wondered as he saw his life flash past in his mind? No chance to even defend himself in the line of duty? He fell hard; jarring his body further, the impact somewhat cushioned by the state of shock that enveloped him and took over his entire body. He landed in an unceremonious heap on the unforgiving concrete floor, right alongside the wheel rim of his car. His heart was pounding in his chest and the noise echoed in his eardrums. The air seemed to have left his lungs and he struggled to draw the smallest, shallowest breath but even that proved difficult. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth was rising up from his throat. He was powerless to stop the trickle of blood that now flowed from the corner of his slack mouth. He was unconscious in minutes, his body shutting down using the mechanism to stop the pain signals reaching his brain any longer.

One bullet damaged his right lung, narrowly missing his heart. The second, ripped through his right shoulder embedding itself deep within the muscle. The third struck lower down, just missing his spine and taking a nick out of his intestine en route. All three projectiles had caused considerable damage as they rammed home, into his body. The force and close range of the shooting had enabled all the bullets to do their worst.

He survived the major surgery to remove the bullet from his shoulder muscle and repair the perforated lung. His intestine required cutting and stitching back together and he would be on a bland diet for weeks. Intravenous drugs would be necessary for some time to administer fluids to keep his traumatised body hydrated and nourished and to deliver morphine so that he could rest and recover. He had been on the operating table for hours as his anxious partner paced the hospital corridor, never straying too far. By all accounts he was lucky to even survive the surgery, so the operating surgeon had said. After surgery he had been taken to intensive care in a coma. Two days later he remained in a coma in critical condition unaware of all the activity around him as he lay, hooked up to monitors, drips, oxygen and wires.

His fellow police partner Detective Kenneth Hutchinson or Hutch as he was known had been trying to hunt the hired killer down while the trail was fresh. He had been working around the clock with no sleep just a nap here and there, or he could be found outside Starsky's hospital room or wading through mountains of files at his desk. On one occasion when tracing a lead, Dobey had called him summoning him back to the hospital urgently as the doctors' had advised him their patient was dying. Hutch drove like a man possessed, racing to be by his best friend's side.

Don't do this to me Starsk, don't leave me you son of a bitch.

He got to the hospital to find Starsky's heart had suddenly stopped beating and had to be shocked back into life. The nurses and doctors were swarming and the electro charge trolley was rushed in. Hutch knew this was as close to dying as a person can get.

Hang in there Starsk, don't fucking die.

The paddles were brought out and Hutch watched stunned and disbelieving as Starsky's body involuntarily lurched from the bed as the power struck his unbeating heart.

You've come this far, don't you dare give up now.

Third time lucky and the rise and fall of Starsky's heartbeat was on the monitor for all to see. Hutch felt an emotional wreck as he let out the breath he had unconsciously been holding. He had witnessed his partner cheat death, thankfully oblivious to it all. He had stood by transfixed as Starsky was brought back to life after his heart had challenged him and ceased beating. The medical team had shocked it back into its regular rhythm, unprepared to lose their patient who had already survived the unthinkable. The man was a known fighter and he wasn't going to give in that easy.

You made it buddy. Don't make me go through that again you son of a bitch.

Of course, a lot of the details were missing or just big blanks in Starsky's memory as he was unconscious for most of that first week, blissfully unaware. When he began to regain consciousness for longer periods, he learned the full story and how he had stared death in the face. Cheated the grim reaper. It wasn't his time to go. He began to recover slowly and the medics were pleased with his steady progress, due in part to his high level of fitness and good health prior to the trauma.

Oh, how his body ached and suffered though. He had been shot before in the leg, and another time in the shoulder but nothing compared to this. He had never known pain like it, as he slowly began to claw his way back to reality. His medication had to be altered many times, as the nurses desperately tried to get the levels right so their patient could cope without feeling totally on another planet with the necessary daily drug cocktail in his system. Every day he awoke hoping the pain would be a little easier and movement a little freer. He hated all the fussing over him but knew it was necessary if he was to go home. He had to keep the nurses and his specialist on his side and show he could cope with Hutch helping him recuperate.

Hutch had suggested the idea to Starsky and the doctors. Starsky was more than delighted to think he could get an early release with Hutch's kind and generous offer. He knew he could recover much faster in his own bed with his own timetable to work to. The hospital food left a lot to be desired. He tried not to think about the pizza and root beer cravings that would float in and out of his subconscious. He had bad taste when it came to food, or so Hutch told him but he figured Hutch would let him indulge just a little bit. He longed to get home to his own apartment and away from the four white walls of his hospital room that he had got to know so intimately. He now knew the intention had been for him to be killed and while he had survived, the damage caused would take a lot of patience, care and physical therapy to get him back to a normal life.

Starsky's thoughts now strayed to his partner in crime... Hutch. He had been with him, there, in the police garage that fateful day. Hutch and he had talked a lot since then, though Hutch was reluctant to re-live the worst parts. Starsky insisted on knowing what had happened.

Hutch had witnessed it all, and so with a heavy heart, reluctantly described hearing the shots fired, his best friend falling hard, and then seeing the bright red blood pooling like treacle under his partner's body.

Starsky could recall Hutch's powerful voice yelling for help and an ambulance and then, just blackness. He had sensed Hutch holding his hand whenever the opportunity arose and welcomed the familiar voice talking to him when he had been semi-conscious and unable to respond. Hutch told him of standing by helplessly when Starsky's heart stopped for minutes, which had seemed at the time to him, like hours. Starsky knew it was hard for Hutch to talk about it but Starsky needed to know for some reason that he couldn't yet understand.

Starsky had made it though; no they had made it. Starsky would recover, given many hours of physical therapy and months of sick leave. Hutch... well it would take a long time to get past the fear and mental torture he had endured, watching Starsky clamber his way back to the point of being able to leave the hospital. Something Starsky possessed was determination and pride and Hutch knew it. Starsky needed to get back to his own familiar surroundings, away from the sterile and impersonal hospital. He needed to show himself, his partner, his family and his colleagues that he was not a person to go down easy. He had spent long enough now, staring at the blank canvas that was his sterile hospital room walls. He knew he would heal faster now if he could be in his own apartment with Hutch to help him.

Hutch had taken leave he had due, to be there for Starsky coming home and to help him get back into a routine and put his life back together again. He had been to Starsky's place every day for several days now, airing the place, putting fresh sheets on the bed and stocking up the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator with groceries. He wanted everything to be just right and as welcoming as it could be. It would be a special moment when he brought his best friend home. He knew what a proud man David Starsky was and what it would mean for him to be back in his own space.

Starsky was allowed home on the condition he be supervised and cared for by Hutch who was to live in with him until he was able to manage independently. The doctors and their team would really have preferred their miracle patient to remain in the hospital a bit longer.

They had however seen the bond the two men had, and heard some of the history so they entrusted their patient into his partner's care. Hutch had been given all the instructions on what to watch for should Starsky's condition deteriorate and was to bring Starsky in for regular scheduled appointments to monitor his progress. Physical therapy schedules had also been set up for three times a week to start with.

Starsky's shoulder was still bandaged and strapped and he was to wear a sling at all times except when bathing, sleeping and walking with his crutches which required two hands. The wounds lower in his back were healing well, beneath the multitude of stitches and scars. His stomach was allowed to be introduced to more foods now, but he still had to be careful. It was a balancing act; he couldn't eat anything too fatty or acidic in case his gut revolted but he had to try and put on some weight and body mass again, after his body had lost so much condition. He was now on regular doses of oral painkillers, and anti-inflammatory drugs morning and night. While they eased the pain, they also caused him to be quite drowsy and lethargic. But then he had the sleeping pills too to zone him out and supposedly get him through a good long stretch of uninterrupted sleep.

Now at last, the long awaited day had come. Armed with prescriptions and pills, the duo made their way along the hospital corridor with Hutch pushing Starsky in the compulsory wheelchair. The good-byes had been said to the hospital staff who had got to know them both so well, and now Starsky was raring to go. Hutch found it hard to suppress his delight at taking his friend out of the main entrance to the hospital, into the warm sunshine.

The hospital had been their home away from home, for all these past weeks. The daily visits had taken their toll on Hutch; it seemed he hadn't had time to draw breath over recent weeks.

He still had nightmares, where he would see the gunman and the gun pointing right at Starsky. He still had moments when he thought he heard the deafening gunfire as it cracked through the air or the squeal of tires. Then sometimes he could swear he smelled the burning rubber of the tires on the asphalt followed by the distinctive aroma of gunpowder. The shooter had shot three times... why three? Must have been a lousy shot Hutch thought but he was grateful for the assassin's seeming inaccuracy.

Hutch smiled to himself when he saw Starsky had spotted his prized Torino across the parking lot, awaiting him in all its resplendent, shining glory. How Hutch despised the candy apple red 'striped tomato' as he called it, but he knew how much it meant to Starsky. That is why he had arranged for it to be waxed and polished and cleaned inside by a car grooming company in his neighbourhood.

Starsky turned his head around to meet Hutch's eyes.

"Hey pal, she looks fantastic, what have you done?"

"I knew how much you'd want to see her again so I had her groomed for you and a wax and polish done. Got Merle to service it too, make sure that she was ready and waitin' for ya."

"Gee, thanks Hutch, it means a lot to me buddy."

"I know... don't I know." Hutch spoke under his breath.

"You know you can't drive just yet though, but not long until the Doc gives you the all clear."

"That's okay, it'll be nice just to ride in her again."

"That's what I figured. Now hold on to me and let's get you out of this contraption." Hutch said referring to the wheelchair. He came around the front and offered his strong arms for Starsky to grab on to.

"Ready?"

"Yep"

"Okay on one... three, two, one."

Hutch pulled Starsky up relatively easily. Starsky had lost a lot of weight since the shooting and was a shadow of his former, lean and athletic self. His skin was pale and his facial features drawn and gaunt. There was a time a few years before when Hutch had to carry him when Starsky had been shot and he sure felt lighter now. God, was there job really worth it, he found himself thinking? Starsky had been shot on two different occasions in earlier years and Hutch had had a near thing with a bullet also, narrowly missing his heart.

His mind switched back to the present as he handed Starsky the hospital issue crutches. Though his legs had not been injured, he now found them too weak to support him safely and the crutches were essential until he could reclaim the strength and muscle tone. Once Starsky was safely in the passenger seat and comfortable, Hutch wheeled the wheelchair back to the reception orderlies, then jogged back to the Torino.

"Feel good Starsk?" he looked at his friend's tired face as he slid behind the wheel.

Though pale and strained, Starsky was positively grinning when he answered.

"Sure does partner, take me home."

"Your wish is my command." Hutch flourished with his hand.

They drove to Starsky's apartment with few words exchanged. Hutch knew Starsky was exhausted and guessed he'd be experiencing some degree of pain and discomfort too. After pulling up to the kerb outside, Hutch went to Starsky's aid to help him get himself and crutches from the car. Starsky looked up at the flight of stairs leading to his front door.

"Boy, never thought my place would be such a sight for sore eyes... more steps than I remember though damn it."

"You'll be fine, those crutches'll just take a bit of practice and you'll be whizzing all over the place. I'm right beside ya now... ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, as they say."

Starsky pulled on Hutch's arm to hoist himself up and out of the car, trying not to use the hand of his injured shoulder. He then had to get himself balanced with the help of his crutches. All the lying in a hospital bed had left his leg muscles weak and wasted. He couldn't believe how weak and powerless they felt trying to support him as he teetered trying to get steady. His head was spinning too, as he tried to get his balance. Hutch noticed the slight swaying of Starsky's body and stood with a protective arm poised at Starsky's side should it be required.

"Ya got it Starsk?"

"Yeah, yeah, it'll take a bit of getting used to like you said. Don't know how they expect me to use crutches well with a shoulder that's pretty much useless. God, I hate feeling so helpless, not to mention stuffing you around too."

"You're not stuffing me around as you put it. Come on Starsk, you know it'll take a lot of patience and some tough workouts but you're gonna get there and I'll be right behind you, every step buddy. That's what friends are for right?"

"Okay let's get this show on the road, onward and upward." Starsky lifted his crutch and pointed with it at the steps.

Hutch laughed and relished how wonderful the sound was to his ears. It had been too long without laughter and he welcomed its return.

After a slow start, Starsky was getting the hang of things and mastering the crutches well. He made it to the top of the stairs and leaned against the doorframe as Hutch got the key out and unlocked the wooden front door. Hutch couldn't help but notice Starsky's laboured breathing and the beads of sweat that had appeared on his brow.

"Come on in, you look beat partner." Hutch held the door open with his foot allowing Starsky to enter first. Starsky made his way straight to the couch and after carefully positioning himself, he precariously lowered his rear end down into it. He released a large breath that he was unaware he had been holding. He had a cursory look around the tidy apartment.

"Looks great Hutch, thanks."

"Oh, it didn't need too much, I just gave it the once over."

"Well it looks like the best place I've seen for some time, feels great to be home."

Hutch smiled with satisfaction at hearing and seeing Starsky's contentment. He thought back to the time he contracted a deadly plague, thinking he was going to die. The great comfort he too had felt upon returning home to a place he thought he would never see again.

"Starsk, why don't you go and have a rest on your bed and I'll fix us some lunch?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling pretty done in but I don't wanna sleep the day away. I'll try and wait till nightfall before I go to bed. I'll have to get back into my routine, not the hospital one. You know the one... up at dawn, lights out at dusk, bit like being in the slammer I imagine."

Hutch laughed quietly.

"Got a point there. You know they've only got your best interests at heart though." Hutch grinned sarcastically remembering the many times they had both been unwilling patients.

Starsky grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

Hutch headed to the kitchen and started making a sandwich for himself and put a pizza he had bought earlier for Starsky into the oven. He grabbed two sodas from the refrigerator and went to join him on the couch.

"Here ya go." He tossed one to Starsky.

"Thanks."

"So, we'll take it easy today and then tomorrow morning is your first physical therapy class as an outpatient. I think if we leave here around nine, we should get you there in plenty of time."

"It'll be good to get some strength back, that's for sure. My whole body feels so tight and stiff and my legs, well let's say they feel like rubber right now especially after that climb up the stairs."

"The doctor said once you start working out and feeling stronger, it won't take long to get back into shape."

"Hope you're right, I feel like a total invalid right now."

"You are an invalid Starsk!"

"All right you don't need to rub it in!"

They smiled at each other, glad to have the banter back. Glad to be semi-normal again, well as normal as these two ever were.

"Is that pizza I can smell?"

"Yep."

"Hutch, did I ever tell you, you're a saint?"

"No, but I'll take that as a compliment, one piece or two?" Hutch headed for the kitchen.

Starsky yelled after him.

"Three."

"Don't want to upset your guts too soon, I'll give you two."

"Meanie."

"I'm doing it for your own good."

Starsky didn't want to think about whether his stomach could handle pizza again after all this time, but was willing to take that chance and besides he didn't want to offend Hutch by alerting him to his not so stable gut. He was sick of feeling sick. He felt nauseous most days but the doctor had told him it would be one of the first symptoms to go. All the anaesthetics and drugs coupled with the stitches in the stomach and intestine were the culprits.

Unfortunately the pizza was a mistake.

About a half-hour after they had eaten Hutch observed the colour drain from Starsky's face. Recognising the signs he managed to gently manhandle him the short distance to the bathroom. He then supported Starsky's weight as he heaved the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Hutch could feel his partner's torso protesting violently and convulsing as Starsky vomited forth. Starsky too was well aware of the pulling on his guts and his shoulders shaking involuntarily.

"Oh God... Hutch... it fuckin' hurts." Starsky's language had become a lot more colourful since the shooting. Though he was always a person to tell it like it is, he now found the desire to add a lot more swear words into his vocabulary. Great stress reliever he justified and no one else's damn business anyway was his attitude.

Hutch cast his eyes skyward and bit his lip, angry at what he saw as his own stupidity for giving Starsky the pizza in the first place.

When Starsky had emptied his stomach and there was no more to come out, he clung to Hutch to get himself upright. He took the cool, damp facecloth offered to him and rubbed at his face and then the back of his neck. Hutch helped him balance in a sitting position on the edge of the bath. Starsky coughed and regretted the instant he tasted the bile in his throat. His eyes squeezed shut with the discomfort. He would kill for a glass of water right now but knew he had to get his body under control first.

"Starsky, I'm... s... sorry, I..."

He struggled with the effort in getting the words to come out.

Might have known he'd do the guilt trip on me.

"Don't wanna hear it Hutch, wasn't your fault. I thought I'd be okay, but obviously too much too soon. Just help me to the couch and sit with me for a bit. I'll be fine... honest."

Hutch responded by helping Starsky up and walking him back to the couch. He took the soiled washcloth away and brought a new, damp one. He sat beside Starsky and patted his forehead and cheeks gently with the soothing cloth.

The normality of their surroundings and just being in each other's company, away from the hospital, felt good and reassuring to them both. Like a warm blanket felt, wrapped around you on a cold night. They were, as always, at ease and comfortable in each other's company. They always seemed to know what the other was thinking and feeling. There was an unspoken chemistry between them; it had been there from the early days when they first met in the police academy. Luckily their superiors spotted it early on and paired them up, recognising the talent this duo had to offer as a team.

Hutchinson, the athletic blond, sophisticated and cultured, like a square peg in a round hole Starsky had thought.

Dressed immaculately, not a hair out of place and the ladies falling over themselves to get a date with him, entranced maybe by his piercing blue eyes and classic handsome looks. Starsky, the dark, swarthy and broody Jewish kid who refused to let go of the child within him. Raised on the wrong side of the tracks in Brooklyn. His Dad was a cop and now he followed in the same footsteps though his father was dead now, killed in front of Starsky when he was just a boy of thirteen. Starsky was street wise, the tough guy, rough around the edges, basic education but sharp as a tack and the ability to charm the birds from the trees.

It had occurred to both of them many times, just how fragile life was. This latest test though, had been the ultimate. Hutch had not yet admitted to Starsky that he had lost faith, be it only momentarily, in Starsky's strong will. He shuddered when he recalled saying to Huggy and Dobey in the hospital 'he's dying, I can feel it.' He felt guilt and weakness now, thinking of the words as he heard them over and over in his mind. Cowardly that he had dared think for a moment that Starsky would give up the fight to live. He wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell his friend, the man who he loved as a brother and trusted with his life, those words that he had spoken to Dobey. The dark and the light, as different as two men could be, but closer than blood. They would die for each other and they both knew it, though it was never spoken aloud.

Hutch cast his mind back to the time he had been forcibly injected and hooked on heroin. He had been kidnapped, beaten and held for days until he escaped. The endless sting of the needles that were sunk deep into his protesting veins, over and over. The self-loathing he felt at how pitiful he had looked and felt at being an addict. Scum of the streets. What followed was hard to explain to anyone, not that he ever tried. Only Starsky, Dobey and Huggy knew. And his captors of course but that didn't bear thinking about. At least they were locked up - for now.

Starsky had been the one who had been there, holding him twenty-four seven as he slowly recovered. No one else could know or it could mean the end of Hutch's career, his life as he knew it. Starsky was the only person in the world he could trust. Hutch recalled the vomiting and physical pain it caused him, the shakes, the heaves, the sweating, the headaches, the stabbing pains. Even months later he developed panic attacks, his heart would thud in his chest, he would hyperventilate, become hot and sweaty and have to get out and get air. It really felt as if was going to die. Then they gradually pass and as time had gone on, they happened less and less often.

The physical symptoms were nothing however, compared to the deluded arrogance of heroin addiction. No one could know the pitiful withdrawal. At best it takes weeks to suppress the physical craving, at worst a couple of months but the psychological craving goes on and on and seems like it will never cease. There's no logic to the fear. An overwhelming fear that eats away at you and won't let you sleep. Hutch hated Starsky then as much as he hated himself. He was in his way, stopping him from scoring a fix. He vented some of the anger from within by smashing things and trying to punch Starsky out on several occasions but Starsky had just said:

'If you want to hit me, hit me. If you want to hate me, that's okay.'

Hutch had horrible nightmares where he was drowning or being shot. He recalled being in bed, kicking and sweating so much, Starsky couldn't sit or lie beside him. It seemed he had permanent cramp in his legs and stomach. His sleeping was erratic; sometimes he slept all day and then sat in front of the television all night. There were times he didn't sleep for forty-eight hours. His 'rock' all through had been Starsky. Starsky had been there for him every agonising inch of the way and now Hutch could finally try and re-pay the favour.

The first days back at Starsky's were the hardest for them both. Starsky had yet to sleep through an entire night despite taking a regular sleeping pill every night before bed. He would wake in a lather of sweat, often shouting out in his sleep from the ceaseless nightmares. Hutch was sleeping on the couch, very near Starsky's bedroom.

He couldn't help but hear Starsky when he would call out, or on other occasions, he would hear him yelp or draw a sharp breath in, from a stab of pain caused by sleeping for too long in one position and then trying to turn over.

Even the physical therapy sessions proved gruelling. Hutch always stayed with Starsky, observing the exercises he was attempting and trying to learn alongside the therapist as to which exercise benefited which parts of Starsky's body. He wanted to see how he might be able to help at home, to speed his partner's recovery. He witnessed the frustration lining his friend's face and the pain and tension in his dulled eyes was all too obvious. Starsky had not admitted his pain or anger to Hutch, but he didn't need to; it was there for all to see.

Hutch noticed that Starsky's mental state seemed to be deteriorating lately and he was prone to mood swings and long periods of depression. It was like walking on eggshells sometimes. It was getting more and more difficult for Hutch to gauge what mood Starsky might be in and the smallest thing could set off a tirade. Hutch knew it was probably to be expected... the frustration and anger at Gunther. Hell, he had to take out his anger at someone right? Only it was hard work for Hutch just grinning and bearing it day in and day out. This was the hardest test either of them had ever had to face.

Tonight was night six at home and it was a bad one. Starsky had managed with Hutch's help, to get showered and into bed early at eight as he was just too exhausted to keep upright any longer. He had fallen asleep quickly after taking his thrice-daily pain medication and slept well as Hutch watched television, until he could stay awake no longer and dozed off on the couch. By ten however Starsky had called out to Hutch, in an obvious state of distress.

"Hutch!"

Hutch was startled awake from his exhausted sleep and was up and moving to Starsky's bedside in less than a minute. He sat down on the bed and took hold of Starsky's hand to offer momentary comfort.

"Yeah buddy, I'm right here, what is it?" Hutch flicked the bedside light on.

Starsky's face was contorted from some sort of pain he was experiencing. Hutch could hear Starsky's breathing was shallow and fast and that he was having to work hard at keeping it controlled. There was a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead as Starsky struggled to speak.

"My... my legs... fucking cramp."

"Here, let me take a look?"

Starsky could only nod as he bit into his lower lip, trying to keep his mind focussed and trying to will away the pain, only it wasn't working.

Hutch sat on the bed and gently pulled the blanket and then the thin top sheet down. He began to massage Starsky's calves not knowing what else would alleviate the cramp.

Starsky reared up in a reflex action.

"Aaahh" he hissed between clamped teeth.

"Easy, easy. I'm sorry. This happen before?"

"Couple 'o times in the hospital... they... they said it was a good... aahhh... sign. Huh, wadda they know?"

"Sshh, relax... close your eyes, put your mind someplace else. Let me rub them some more, I'll be gentle... promise."

Starsky relented and closed his eyes.

"They said it was the legs getting their circulation going again. Sure doesn't feel a good sign though." He laughed sarcastically.

Hutch continued rubbing the protesting leg muscles and then stopped briefly to put his palm to Starsky's forehead. It was warm but not hot enough to indicate fever. Starsky forcefully pushed it away not in any mood for Hutch's mothering but he had to admit the massaging of his calves had eased the pain somewhat.

"I think you must have overdone it today and your legs are just protesting."

"Sure feels that way... help me up.'"

"Take it easy, just lay still a while longer, see if it'll ease." Hutch smiled, trying to calm Starsky's tense state.

"I wonder if a painkiller would help right now Starsk?"

"Yeah, maybe."

Hutch got up and went to the kitchen.

"Be right back."

He returned with the pill and a glass of water, which Starsky dutifully swallowed. The painkillers had the effect of sedation as well as relief from his pain. Sometimes he was frustrated at this side effect, wanting to be able to focus on a simple thing such as watching a movie right through or finish reading the newspaper in one session, or a chapter of a book. Other times like now he welcomed the feeling of impending drowsiness and loss of clarity.

Starsky tried lying on his side to get into a more comfortable position as Hutch continued massaging the spasming muscles. After several minutes of rubbing, Starsky seemed more calm and settled and Hutch noticed his shoulders relax more against the mattress.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Hutch stood and covered Starsky's legs back up with the sheet and blankets.

"Want anything?"

"New body, dancing topless girls, keg of beer-"

"Yeah, right partner" Hutch patted Starsky's shoulder gently.

"You'll be fine now, cramp seems to have passed. Try and get back to sleep, I'll be here if you need me." Hutch rose from the bed to go.

Fuck, you're always here because of me damnit.

"I'm taking all your time when you should be out enjoying yourself with a beautiful girl. God, Hutch I feel so damn useless, let's face it no girl's gonna want me now anyway. A mutilated cripple that's what I am right now or haven't you noticed Hutch?"

Starsky wasn't exactly sure where his little outburst had sprung from but knew his depression had gotten the better of him lately. He so wanted to feel positive and try and just look forward but hell, it was proving far harder than anything else he'd dealt with before.

Even 'Nam hadn't been so hard on his emotions and his Dad dying - well, he'd succeeded in blocking out much of the detail and it helped that he had only a child's memory of what had happened.

Maybe it was the daily mix of drugs, or just too much time to sit and contemplate. Whatever it was he now averted the blond's eyes feeling awkward and embarrassed by his outburst.

Hutch sat back down on the bed and fumbled under the sheet feeling for Starsky's hand, before he spoke softly.

"Starsk, I don't want to be any place else right now. Where did all this come from huh? You are NOT going to be a cripple for the rest of your life and the girls find you just as attractive now as they did before... before all this. A few scars just add character to ya, the girls love it! Geez Starsk the nurses at the hospital were all over you like a rash."

Hutch was surprised at his off the cuff speech, but thought it had achieved the desired effect when he managed to glean a smile from Starsky.

"I know but..."

"No but's about it Starsk. Just keep your hairy butt in that bed and go to sleep! That's an order!" then Hutch softened his tone.

"Look Starsk we're partners aren't we?"

Starsky nodded.

"I'm here because I want to be here. I'm sure you don't need reminding about what you did for me through all the heroin withdrawal, right?"

Starsky looked into Hutch's eyes now; surprised Hutch had even brought up the word heroin. It was something they both had lived through and the subject was rarely raised after Hutch's recovery. Starsky knew the demons Hutch had battled and possibly still did over his forced addiction.

"That was different..."

"How was it different? Come on buddy, you were there for me every step of the way and now maybe I can go some way to re-paying that favour."

"It wasn't a favour, I'll always be there for you Hutch."

"Exactly my point, and I'll always be there for you. Partners... Me and Thee... don't you forget it! Now quit feeling sorry for yourself and get some sleep."

"'kay, thanks."

"You're welcome."

Starsky turned on his side and hoped he would soon be asleep. Hutch released Starsky's hand, then patted it gently in a sign of pure affection. He quietly turned off the bedside light and left the room feeling far better for their talk, hoping Starsky would feel the same way.

The physical therapy sessions got more and more intense as the week progressed. Starsky was managing to work out a little longer each time, determined to keep the momentum going. The pain he felt empowered him in a strange kind of way. It held his moods and feelings at bay and took his focus away from the doom and gloom for just a bit.

Had Starsky been convalescing alone at home, he felt sure alcohol could easily have become his best friend but with Hutch around all the time it would have been impossible. He had always enjoyed the effect of alcohol and what it did. In the past he had found things were always easier with a drink or two under your belt and alcohol had always blurred the edge of things enough for him in past crisis' that he could live to fight another day. But this time alcohol was not to be the answer and instead he found himself slipping a few extra pills here and there. Be they painkillers or sleeping pills, just to take the edge off the pain and keep the depression at bay... but he was in control. Just enough to get his moods back on track. He had never felt this way before and didn't know what was happening. Was it just depression or something more? Do all other people who have a near death experience feel this way? It was too confusing and didn't make any sense. He felt ashamed for feeling this way when everyone kept telling him how 'lucky' he was and how good it must feel to be back in the land of the living.

Hutch watched on proudly as he saw some of the spirit that Starsky had lost, returning. He knew he would walk a million miles for that man and care for him as long as it would take to get him back to how he had been, before the accident. He admired Starsky so much for the way he was pushing himself, harder and faster than anyone expected but little did he know of the mental torment that was weaving its way deep within Starsky's soul.

Starsky was alone one evening for a few hours after Hutch had gone out to stock up on some groceries and buy something for their dinner. He had become so used to Hutch being around him all the time; it felt strange and foreign to be on his own, even for short periods. He was still very reliant on Hutch and felt strangely anxious when he was gone.

His negative thoughts soon kicked in. He wondered if he'd ever be able to be get his medical clearance to be a cop again, out on the street and back behind the wheel, driving his beloved car.

No one, not Hutch, Huggy, Dobey, the doctors had ventured any specific opinions whether he would make a full recovery.

They're scared to tell me the truth, they think I can't handle it. Why can't they just be honest? Face it Starsky, you'll get a desk job at best. If you were going to return to active duty again, they would have talked about it by now... given me a date.

His thoughts rollercoastered around his head at an alarming rate, out of control.

Face it, they're just patronising me, they want to keep me in cotton wool. Protect my feelings. Why can't they just be honest dammnit? I'll ask the doc next time, he can tell me straight out, he...

The shrill ring of the telephone beside his bed where he was sitting interrupted his nagging thoughts. He answered and was somewhat surprised to recognise his younger brother, Nick on the line.

"Hey Davey."

"Uh... hey Nick... nothing's wrong with Ma is it?"

"No, no, she's great. I just thought I'd see how you were doin' big brother."

Starsky tried to block out even more negative thoughts. The fact that his only sibling had never called him in the hospital or not so much as lifted pen to paper and written him a letter to see how he was doing. He knew Hutch had spoken to his mother and she had been calling on a fairly regular basis but he had not heard anything from his only sibling. This had hurt him badly, particularly when he was feeling very much alone and bored out of his skull, lying flat on his back for months in the hospital. He had tried to put it from his mind and never raised the subject of Nick at all around Hutch, knowing how condescending he could be about Nick at the best of times. Hutch would predictably have said 'what do you expect?' if Starsky had talked of his disappointment and the hurt he felt over his brother. Hutch had certainly never brought the subject of Nick up and so it was never mentioned between either of them.

Starsky wondered if Nick even knew how close to dying he had come. God, he hadn't come to terms with it himself now that he thought about it.

"Oh, I'm doing okay Nick, I'll be on sick leave for a while, lot of therapy to do, lots of pills to take, I've been working toward-"

But his sentence was interrupted.

"Yeah? You'll be fine though, you gotta get better and back on those mean streets, puttin' the world to rights, don't ya?" Nick chuckled.

Starsky duly noted the hint of sarcasm but avoided taking the bait. Nick had bailed him up on his last visit to California about what he thought of Starsky's chosen profession and Starsky didn't need to revisit that conversation.

"What about you, what are you up to?"

"Oh, this 'n that, you know me."

"Oh yeah, I know you Nicky."

There was a long awkward pause as both waited for the other to speak.

"Yeah... well... hey David, thought I'd come and stay with you for a few days. See how ya really doin' and help ya out. Whadda ya say?"

Starsky was surprised and yet suspicious at the same time.

You wanna come all this way for a few days? Something's up.

"You sure you're not in any kind of trouble?"

"Course not, would I lie to you?"

Sure ya would Nick; you've done it before.

"Well..."

Nick laughed.

Starsky wished he could see his brother's eyes and then he felt, he'd know for sure if he was being spun a line. He chided himself for being so doubting of his own flesh and blood. Nick could have turned over a new leaf, give the kid a chance. It would be good to see him and he was family after all.

"Okay, you can stay, but on my terms little brother. When do you wanna come?"

"Booked a plane already big brother... arriving tomorrow. I'll get a cab to your place around four, okay?"

Don't muck about do you? Must have a tiger on your tail. Oh God, what about Hutch? Those two aren't exactly compatible. Last thing I need is to be a ringmaster with them performing.

Starsky was flustered now.

"Uuhh... I guess so. Look Nick... Hutch..."

"Hey, I gotta go now, money's runnin' out and I'm in a call box, I'll see ya tomorrow, bye."

Always Hutch this, Hutch that. Don't they ever get sick of the sight of each other?

"Nick... just..."

The click of the receiver echoed in his ear. Starsky slowly put it back in its cradle. His thoughts now turned to the last time Nick had stayed with him over a year ago and ended up leaving Bay City in disgrace. It became apparent as time passed and events unfolded during the younger Starsky's stay, that Nick was into small time drug dealing and indulged in drug use himself. He had also admitted to Starsky, he acted as a fence for stolen property and smoked 'a little weed' now and again. Starsky knew that this could easily lead to the harder drugs and he shuddered when he thought of Hutch and what he had suffered going through withdrawal. The whole incident of Nick Starsky's visit to Bay City had been a major embarrassment for Starsky; made especially awkward by the fact that David Starsky's job was a detective with the Bay City police. Starsky had been very hurt and ashamed that Nick had sullied the Starsky family name. Most of the Bay City police force knew Starsky's father had been a cop and that he had been killed in the line of duty. David Starsky had followed his father into the police force and now as ironic as it was, a Starsky was operating on the wrong side of the law.

The awkward situation the year before with Nick and his reason for being in Bay City had not gone down well with Starsky's superiors, internal affairs or his fellow detective partner. Hutch had grown to despise Nick for how he saw him use, hurt and humiliate his own brother and had not hesitated in telling him so. He saw right through Nick and his scheming ways. How two brothers could be so different and end up operating on opposing sides of the law was a mystery, but then again maybe not. The reality was they had been brought up during their formative years on opposite ends of the country with two very different families. An entire family had been pulled apart, at the untimely death of their father.

Neither Hutch nor Starsky ever discussed Nick after he left Bay City, except in fleeting meaningless conversation. Starsky's loyalties were definitely torn and had been tried and tested to the maximum. Now, he felt certain they would be tested again. Starsky didn't know what his brother had been doing in Brooklyn since he had left Bay City and quite frankly, Starsky thought it better he didn't know. He was unsure whether Nick had gone straight or was still dabbling with small time crooks which in his experience, inevitably led to bigger crooks. He had to keep telling himself he was no longer responsible for his brother or his actions. They were both independent adults now. Starsky recalled the argument they had with Nick storming out the door accusing his brother of never being there for him. It had grieved Starsky and the harsh words had hit him hard. Starsky hadn't been given the right of reply as Nick stormed out of Starsky's apartment, not waiting for a response. Starsky had therefore been unable to air his version of their childhood. The words his brother had said were hurtful but also untrue and Starsky wondered if Nick had just said what he did in the heat of the moment or did he really believe his big brother had let him down? The topic had not been mentioned again.

The reality of events after their father died was somewhat different than how Nick had perceived things. After their father was killed, their mother had found it increasingly difficult to handle her two growing sons as they struggled to find their way in adolescent life without the discipline and guidance their father had given them. David in particular, being the eldest had taken his father's death particularly badly. He had idolised his father and everything he stood for and now he had been cruelly taken away from him. No warning, no justification and for no good reason. There one day and gone the next. David rapidly went off the rails and started punch-ups with neighbourhood boys for no apparent reason. He began petty thieving and skipping school, his grades dropping well below what they had been. His mother noticed the bad crowd he now hung with and so with a heavy heart and a lot of guilt she had made the difficult decision to send David to California to live with her sister, Rose. Nick had obviously felt bewildered and hurt as his only sibling, the brother whom he looked up to, was suddenly whisked away from the small family unit and flown across to the other side of the country. He didn't know when they would see each other next, maybe never he had thought in his youthful naivete.

Nick being younger than David had never contemplated the situation from his brother's perspective. David felt he was always in trouble with his mother, he knew he was careering out of control, heading for disaster, but he felt powerful and invincible. He kept his emotions and all the hate and anger buried deep within. Alone in his room sometimes he would find himself hyperventilating, his heart would race and he would feel nauseous. He thought he might die, just like his Dad but was afraid to tell his mother for fear he had some terrible illness. He never told anyone and not until he graduated as a police officer did he learn that what he had experienced all those years ago were panic attacks. Borne from fear and anxiety. They wouldn't kill a person but his personal experience of them was that you felt like you were having a heart attack.

The first summer after his father was killed Starsky tried slashing his wrist with a rusty, grubby pocketknife. He attempted the feat in his room, late at night when everyone else was asleep only he didn't have the gumption to carry it through. Once the blood began to drip, he felt weak at the knees and thought he might pass out. All he did was succeed in getting an infection from the filthy blade and as he hadn't dare tell anyone, he wore long sleeves for a few weeks, during the stifling hot weather that Brooklyn gets. He had been thirteen and not a sole knew of this young boy's private cry of help.

One day, early the following year his mother called him into the kitchen and broke the news that he was to be sent away from the only home he had ever known, away from their tight knit family. He had been escorted on to the plane, his mother unable to keep her tears from falling. He had never been on a plane and didn't know what to expect but felt unable to show his fear to his already distraught mother.

Once in Bay City, his aunt and uncle were kind to him, taking him in as one of their own. They already had two children of their own, a boy older than David and a younger girl. Undoubtedly his cousins were jealous of their slick city cousin who changed the whole dynamics of their family. It had been very hard for David who was merely a lost and bewildered boy, entering adulthood in a strange, unfamiliar city with a new family he had never met previously. No one knew of the nights he had cried himself to sleep in the place that he was now to call home. He was teased and bullied at school and by the neighbourhood kids. Sometimes the abuse was physical and he would end up being kicked or punched just for being Jewish or for being a New Jersey kid, depending on the mood of the attackers, or just for being there - wrong place, wrong time. He tried so hard to lose his strong and distinctive accent, wanting so desperately to blend in and be anonymous. His school days in Bay City had been rough and he was only left with bad memories.

Then there had been the sexual abuse he had kept a secret all these years. God, he felt so embarrassed and ashamed even thinking about it now. A friend of his uncle's used to visit and would often stay for a meal with the family. David had only known him as Steve and that he was recently divorced. David's Uncle Joe, and Steve were workmates. Joe had befriended Steve when Steve's wife had walked out with their two children citing spousal abuse as the reason. Joe had his suspicions what with Steve's temper and chauvinistic attitudes. Joe was careful however to avoid any discussions regarding Steve's ex-wife or his children.

Steve soon took a shine to the young and smart mouthed, curly haired boy with the East Side accent and would often play ball with him in the backyard or chess after dinner at the kitchen table, a game his late father had taught him. It didn't take long for him to gain David's confidence and win his trust. He started taking David to the movies and the occasional ball game. It felt great for the troubled teen to have someone paying him individual attention and helped him forget his bullying school mates, if only for a short time. After the pair had been out maybe three or four times, they were driving home one night when Steve had calmly reached over and fondled David's genitals through his jeans. David had tried to ignore it, not fully able to comprehend what was happening. Why would someone who cared about him and was his friend do something so dirty and wrong? He went numb and closed down his mind, saying nothing and letting it happen. His panic attacks started again. It was to be their secret Steve had said and it had to remain that way or word would get out that David Starsky was a pervert or a homosexual. David believed him.

The confused boy, so vulnerable already, had been forced to keep quiet for fear of retribution from his family if they were to find out about this sordid secret. He didn't know where he could turn or what he could do. He was trapped and alone in a city with millions of people. He made a pathetic attempt one afternoon of swallowing his aunt's prescription pills, only to find that all they did was make him violently ill. After a steady pattern of inflicting regular abuse on David over nearly a year, Steve had moved away with his job to Chicago. David, now even more of an emotional wreck had breathed a silent sigh of relief. David had put a strong mental block in his mind after Steve left, burying his private, inner fears of ever having their secret discovered. He felt so dirty and used and dreaded to think of anyone ever finding out. Just like Steve had said, maybe people would think he was a fag, allowing another man to do the things he had let Steve do. He felt so confused and betrayed that it would be years before he would ever let anyone show him any physical affection or get close to him again.

He tried to get on with his life as best he knew how hoping to never again set eyes upon the man who had done this to him. He left school as soon as he could having gained the basic qualifications he knew he had to have if he wanted to be accepted into the police academy. While his grades could have been better, he knew they were good enough for him to be accepted. He also knew what he lacked on paper he would more than make up for in the effort he was determined to put in to being a police officer, just like his late father who he idolised. After doing a few odd jobs here and there he was accepted into the academy, at last able to realise his childhood dream. He flourished once there and worked so hard to gain top marks and his police officer's badge. He knew police work was his passion and he knew he would be a good cop and make his father proud.

No, Nick would never know how it had been for big brother Davey.

He sat on the edge of the bed and unconsciously rocked, a pitiful form of self-comfort as he tried to push back the thoughts of his marred childhood. Thoughts he had successfully kept pushed down deep and hidden... until now. He was shocked to be thinking of Steve again after all this time. In a fleeting moment of despair he clutched the pill bottle full of sleeping pills by his bed. The thought of swallowing the contents of the near full bottle crossed his mind for just a moment. No, he'd come too far. Hutch would never forgive him if he killed himself.

Get a grip David, don't let Steve beat you now.

He slowly unscrewed the lid and stared at the collection of small pills with a morbid fascination. He paused before slipping three into his mouth, swallowing them dry. He balked at the bitter taste but had no energy to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. Three pills, two more than his prescribed dose and only a few hours since the last 'hit'. He felt he deserved time free of dark thoughts and stress. Maybe an uninterrupted night of sleep later. A night free of the normal aches and pains that wracked his body or was that too much to hope for?

They would just help him get over this rough patch, so why did he feel so damn guilty when he suddenly heard Hutch fumbling with the key in the front door lock? Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His hand jerked reflexively when he heard the noise and he dropped the bottle to the floor. He bent to pick it up as he heard Hutch's voice.

"Just me, reckon I've got enough stuff here to last us a month!" Hutch struggled across the lounge, his face partially hidden behind the brown paper bags full of groceries. He went to the kitchen and began putting everything away. It occurred to him that things were awfully quiet and so he called out for Starsky thinking he may be in the bathroom. When he got no reply, he went looking and soon found Starsky in the bedroom replacing his sleeping pill bottle on the bedside table looking flushed and agitated.

"Hey, Hutch"

"You okay Starsk?" Hutch glanced at the pill bottle trying to ascertain if it was the sleeping pills or the ones for pain relief.

Starsky averted Hutch's gaze feeling Hutch was able to see right through him, into his soul, into his dark depression. The reality of telling his partner about the imminent arrival of Nick weighed heavily on his shoulders. He just wanted to curl up and go to sleep and not wake up... well not for a while anyway.

Stop the world I wanna get off.

He thought wryly.

"Starsk?" Hutch walked over and sat beside him on the bed. He put his arm around the brunet's shoulder and was shocked to feel Starsky's shoulders trembling.

"What's wrong buddy, you're shaking?"

Starsky looked downward to the floor and mumbled, embarrassed by the unexpected tears that were falling from his tired eyes.

"thinkin'"

Hutch was very concerned at what had got his friend so upset but knew he couldn't go jumping in right off the bat.

"Oh yeah, what about?" Hutch wasn't so sure he wanted to hear the answer. He remained on the bed; his arm firmly around Starsky's still quivering shoulders.

"Nothin' important."

"Must be important if it gets you upset like this buddy." Hutch gave a light squeeze of Starsky's shoulder.

"Maybe." Starsky continued his downward gaze knowing if he met the blond's eyes, he may release another flood of unscheduled tears.

"Wanna talk about it?" Hutch could only assume Starsky was thinking of the shooting.

"Nope, it's history. "

"I don't like to see you this upset, something's got you spooked... and bad."

Starsky met Hutch's eyes and just for a fleeting moment he thought of unburdening his feelings, his dirty secret, tell him about Steve. How he felt sorry for himself and how ashamed he felt for being dirty... used.

He knew Hutch was the most caring and compassionate man he knew and he loved him for it but no, he couldn't... wouldn't. Starsky found himself unable to hold a fix on the concerned face and questioning eyes of his partner. He cast his eyes skyward to a non-existent spot on the ceiling, closing his eyes as a tear escaped, trying to gather his thoughts. Hutch stayed silent, hoping his friend would open up to him but Starsky said nothing, remaining silent... deep in thought.

Everyone has skeletons in the closet right? In reality how can I ever tell anyone what happened? It's over; no one would believe me now and what if they did? This kind of thing happens all the time. Who cares? Hutch might think it was my fault, think I'm a pervert, dirty... gay maybe? No, Hutch can never know. I can bury the memory some more, maybe down deep enough that it will disappear from my mind forever? If I tell Hutch it could mean the end of a friendship that I value too much. Won't jeopardise that. I've buried the past this long; I can do it some more.

"Starsk, what ya thinkin' about?" Hutch spoke quietly and with tenderness in his voice.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Starsky opened his eyes and offered Hutch a smile to reassure and placate.

"That's the trouble with being sick so long, too much time to think."

"Why were you shaking, are you scared about something... are you worried about going back to work?"

"Just a little cold I guess and tired."

Sure Starsk it's like an oven in here!

Hutch wasn't buying it. Something had scared Starsky and he wanted to know.

He spoke softly and compassionately with humour in his voice.

"You're a lousy liar Starsk... it's not cold in here, now why-"

Starsky cut him off and pushed Hutch's arm from around his shoulders and made to get off the bed.

"Just leave it Hutch. I'm fine alright?" he spoke in a terse voice, which caught Hutch by surprise.

Hutch reeled from the unexpected outburst.

Man, what's he so wired about? Back off, the doctors said he might get down and moody but something's triggered him off.

"Okay, okay." Hutch knew when he was beat and he didn't want to push Starsky for more information. He stood up and walked toward the door.

Starsky managed to make it up to stand on the floor but his mind wasn't focussed and he took a step toward the door, wanting to get away from Hutch but had not been cautious enough in gaining his balance properly. He had only been off his crutches a few days around the apartment and still relied heavily on them if he went out. He realised too late that he had been sitting too long on the bed, his legs had seized and were cramping up on him. Before he could grab a hold of something to steady himself, he found himself falling as his legs surrendered and he fell to the floor, his knees buckling beneath him.

"Fuck!" Starsky said loudly, annoyed, irritated and embarrassed. Then to add more emphasis:

"Stupid fucking legs."

He was angry and hurt, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt sure his blood pressure was rising off the scale and he cursed his weak legs for failing him. His mind had been elsewhere thinking about Steve and what he would tell Hutch about Nick.

He was surprised to think of the hatred he felt all these years later about Steve, a man he had tried so hard to forget... a man he thought he had forgotten. His mind was reeling and the adrenaline pumping. He rolled on to his side turning his tear stained face into the soft carpet.

Hutch whirled around when he heard Starsky's breath catch but he was too late to see the sight of his partner crashing down. He heard the profanities and could feel the anger. He got down on his knees beside Starsky.

"Shit, I could've helped ya Starsk."

He received nothing but a look of disdain from Starsky.

"Are you alright?"

Starsky turned his cheek to the side so that his voice would be heard and not muffle din the carpet that he was eating. He was breathing heavily and his face suddenly contorted in pain as a red-hot spear rammed its way into his gut.

"Just great." No, I'm not all right, my body and my mind are broken Hutch.

"Lemme help you up."

"I can do it Hutch." Starsky snapped.

"Sure?"

Why are you always so damn proud and stubborn with it?

"Of course I'm sure! I've gotta do some things for myself you know." He managed to roll over and then get himself on to his knees, which quickly began to ache under his weight, as he attempted to pull at the bed covers trying to get some leverage.

Hutch was terrified Starsky would fall again and his confidence would be dashed once more but he knew Starsky wanted to do it for himself and so he hovered anxiously, a hand at the ready.

Hutch knew he shouldn't be surprised at Starsky's mood, it was only to be expected that the frustration would get too much at times.

Starsky continued trying to get purchase from the bed covers. Hutch could not stand by any longer, not when Starsky was at risk of hurting himself further. He was willing to face the tongue lashing later. He positioned himself astride Starsky and managed to get his hands wedged under Starsky's armpits. He heaved him up on the count of three and then dropped one hand around Starsky's waist. It was certainly no great effort for the muscular blond. He'd had to carry him a few times before now which had not been easy, but now that Starsky was so painfully thin, very little exertion was required on Hutch's part. Hutch got Starsky back to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

"I said I could do it Hutch" Starsky spoke between gritted teeth.

"Yeah, sure big guy, you've proved your point now Starsk... just catch your breath."

Hutch could hear the difficulty in Starsky's breathing rhythm.

Starsky was too tired to protest and sat still, trying to regulate his breathing. His face was flushed and beads of glistening sweat began to appear on his forehead and upper lip. Hutch sat beside him in silence, all the while carefully observing his friend. Starsky broke the uncomfortable silence first but averted Hutch's eyes:

"Hutch, I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Was just thinkin' bout things... feeling a bit low and I took it out... out on you... shouldn't have." Just to get the words out was proving far harder than usual. The fall had knocked his confidence and he was frightened.

"It's okay, really."

"No" he looked directly at Hutch, trying to read Hutch's face before continuing:

"It's not okay, you've done so much for me and I treat you like shit... why... why do you put up with it?"

"Forget it Starsk, I'm a big boy I can handle it."

Hutch was pleased Starsky's breathing was more even and shallow now.

"I feel..." Starsky paused unsure whether to continue where the conversation was headed.

"Go on Starsk... how do you feel?"

Here goes nothin'

"I feel like my mind's fucked... as well as my body. Too much time thinkin'... I dunno... I..."

"Aw buddy"

Hutch knew how hard it must be for Starsky to admit how he was really feeling. He rubbed gently on Starsky's back, making small circular movements.

"It's understandable that you might feel depressed some times. Part of the healing process. You know we'll get through this... right? And you'll be good as new."

"Just something triggered me off I guess, I was thinking 'bout... 'bout when I was a kid, coming out here."

"To Bay City?"

Starsky nodded and Hutch continued to rub gently in soothing circles on Starsky's back.

"And?"

"Doesn't matter Hutch, don't wanna talk about it now. Not important... It's history, dead and buried." Steve will keep, but I'll have to tell ya about Nick.

"Okay, maybe later, but we're gonna talk Starsk."

"Yeah, yeah, just not now... not tonight." Besides I don't know what the extra two sleeping pills are gonna do to me now. God, I shouldn't have taken them, I feel such a fool.

"Let me fix us some dinner okay?"

"Sounds good partner." One hurdle down, one to go. Hopefully these pills can kick in soon and I can slope off to bed.

Over dinner Starsky ventured forth on to the Nick subject.

"Uh Hutch, I had a call today when you were out." He was already feeling the effects of the pills and was finding it hard to concentrate. His words came out a bit slurred but Hutch was too busy focusing on twirling his pasta strands around his fork and didn't bother to look up.

"Oh yeah?"

Starsky put his fork down and looked at Hutch's bowed head.

"It was Nick."

Starsky had Hutch's full attention now as he looked up with interest. He slowly finished chewing his food and then spoke.

"What did he want? Is your Mom okay?" Don't go in with guns blazing Hutchinson.

"Yeah, yeah she's fine."

"Good."

"He's coming out to stay with me for a few days he said."

"What?" Hutch just about choked on his dinner, dropping his fork with a clatter to the plate. The sharp sound reverberating around the room.

"Shit, I knew you'd react like this!"

"When?" Hutch spoke in a quieter tone this time.

Come on get it out before you fall asleep in your spaghetti.

"Uh, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow... well excuse me, but how did you expect me to react?"

"Well, he..."

"He never called you once in the hospital did he?"

"No, but..."

"He never wrote you or flew over to see you when your Mom told him you'd been shot three times and nearly killed did he?"

"No."

Hutch was on a roll now and Starsky knew there was no stopping him, so he let him go.

"He gave you nothing but aggravation and grief when he was visiting his dear big brother last time, did he?"

"Okay okay, point taken now will you just let me speak?"

Hutch made a humph noise, raised his discarded fork and continued eating his meal. Starsky took this as a signal the tirade was halted, albeit temporarily.

"He called me from a call box and said he's arriving tomorrow around four. Said he'd get a cab here..."

Hutch gave a look that sent shivers down Starsky's spine.

"Look, he didn't even give me a chance to say anything, he just told me and then rang off. We were on the telephone maybe two minutes. He's my brother Hutch, what was I supposed to say? Get lost?"

"Would've been a good start." Hutch smiled sarcastically.

Starsky ignored the biting comment.

"He might've changed Hutch." Starsky said sheepishly, struggling to stay alert and focusing on Hutch's words.

"Yeah, sure and Dobey's just joined up with Weight Watchers... Hey you okay Starsk, you look a bit... I dunno"

Hutch leaned over to feel Starsky's forehead for signs of fever but there were none.

Starsky managed a subtle smile at Hutch's humour before pushing the caring hand away.

"I'm fine Hutch... just quit mothering me okay?"

Hutch put his hands up in mock surrender.

Obviously a 'downer' day, something's bugging him more than usual.

Starsky continued:

"Well how do you know he hasn't changed?"

"Look you know he's a criminal. We work with these sort of guys every day. Once a crook, always a crook. Probably a drug user for that matter as well."

Starsky kept silent knowing the last statement was true but he wasn't about to admit it to Hutch.

"He was a crook Hutch."

"He probably still is, the reality is you just don't know what he gets up to."

"No, I don't but I can't turn my back on him. He's my brother Hutch, he's one of the most important people in my life... he's blood Hutch."

Hutch was getting sickened hearing about the virtues of Nick and laid down his fork once more, unable to contain his anger any longer.

"Does he know how sick you are, how you died on that hospital bed? Was he there watching them shock your heart?" Hutch's voice was full of choked up emotion as the words spewed forth. He could sit still no longer and rose from the table. He began to pace and run his fingers through his flaxen hair in agitation.

"Hutch sit down will ya? You're making me nervous."

I didn't know you were still thinking about all the heavy stuff partner.

"Look, I just saw how close to dying you were and it scared the shit outta me Starsk. I was there and... saw... saw it happen." He went quiet now having difficulty in getting the words out.

"I thought about Nick when I sat beside your bed in that hospital and wondered whether he'd fly over or call you but he never did. I remember thinking what a lousy brother he was to you especially after what he did and said the last time. He's a user and you know it. Plain and simple, always was, always will be. I thought when he left before that I wouldn't wanna see him again any time soon. I know he's your brother but he's a damn lousy one Starsk."

"Finished?"

"Nope, did you tell him I'm staying here?"

"I didn't get a chance."

"Well, that'll be all happy families then won't it?" Hutch strode over to the window and absently looked down at the street for signs of life.

"Could be..." Starsky tried to lighten Hutch's mood.

"What's he gonna think of me staying here?"

"Since when did that worry ya?"

"Look, that's fine Starsk. He is your brother as you keep reminding me but I'll stay at my own place."

Starsky just wanted the conversation to end. He noticed his vision was getting blurry and he really didn't want the Hutchinson third degree if he keeled over before he could make it to his bed.

"Maybe it would be easier."

Hutch was surprised how readily Starsky agreed with Hutch's idea to stay back at his own place.

Starsky's head was beginning to thump and he just wanted to lie down.

"I work with you Hutch, he's my family... and besides where else would he stay?"

Starsky had no idea how much his words hurt. They stung Hutch hard, like a slap in the face or a punch to his gut and he felt as though all his air and life force was escaping from his body.

"I work with you... he's my family." And I'm not buddy? Is that what this is all about?

Before Hutch could collect his thoughts, Starsky carried on.

"Look he's my brother, you're my partner for Christ sakes, I can't tell him to sleep on the street. He's family... just 'cause you don't have a close family like ours, doesn't mean..." as soon as he'd spoken the words, he wished he could take them back but the damage was done.

Hutch spun round from where he had been looking out of the window.

"Okay twist the knife a little more why don't ya Starsky Thanks a bunch, you've made yourself perfectly clear... crystal in fact."

"Come on Hutch, you know that's not what I mean... I'm tired."

And my head's banging like a big base drum.

"Nick obviously means more to you than I do right now. I wouldn't mind if he weren't such a low life, worthless creep. Oh... and as for my screwed up family... well I apologise they're not as perfect as yours."

Hutch didn't need to hear any more. He couldn't bear to be wounded further. He was shocked to feel tears pricking his eyes.

He had to leave before he lost his cool any further and retaliated with words that might sting as much as Starsky's had. He grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch and headed for the door.

"Oh Hutch, shit I didn't mean... look, I'm sorry... I... I didn't think... please, don't go Hutch."

What have I done? Why didn't you keep your big mouth shut, you idiot?

"I'll be back later... when I've had time to cool off." And with that he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

Starsky sat at the table and recounted his words. He hadn't meant things to come out as they had. Maybe it was being with Hutch all this time, living under each other's feet. Maybe it was the drugs. He was certainly starting to feel the full effect of the sleeping pills and was perversely grateful that his eyes were being forced to close and his mind was getting more scrambled and hazy around the edges. It took all his reserves of energy to drag himself up and get to the bedroom where he literally crawled into his bed, pulling the covers up around him as he curled into a ball willing consciousness away.

Hutch went back to his own place, watered his plants, sorted the pile of mail that had accumulated, anything to try and keep his anger and hurt that he felt in check.

He tried watching television but all the time he was wondering what Starsky was doing, what would he be watching? He stared at the telephone several times, even picking it up once to dial the number he knew by heart but he couldn't do it. There was only one thing he could do really.

It was after eleven that night when Hutch returned. He quietly rapped his fingers on the door before letting himself in, unsure what would await him. He went to the bedroom when he saw no sign of life in the lounge or kitchen and smiled when he saw Starsky curled up, sleeping peacefully.

Get your priorities right. Look what Starsky's been through, you know how he really cares about you, don't you? He's not his usual self, you're bound to get annoyed with each other. Give him some space.

But the words still rang in his mind:

"I work with you, he's my family."

Swallow your pride and get on with it. You want him back on those streets with you don't you?

Hutch took up his usual place for the night, the couch and some blankets and pillows from the linen closet.

Tomorrow's another day. Sleep well Starsk.

Hutch was first to waken as the sun signaled a new day as it came streaming through the windows. He rose and stretched his aching back and checked on Starsky who he was surprised to see was still sound asleep.

Doesn't normally sleep this long. Must need it.

After showering and dressing Hutch began preparing breakfast. He periodically checked his sleeping partner but he remained out of it. Hutch had even tried to rouse him once by gently shaking his shoulder but was only met with a 'mmmppphhh'. He felt Starsky's forehead, which wasn't abnormally hot, so he chose to let him sleep on knowing it was the best thing for them both.

It was near noon before Hutch finally heard movement from the bedroom. He headed to the doorway and watched his weary partner awaken.

The unruly dark curls were even more unruly than usual and there were dark rings around the normally sparkling eyes that had been dulled since Starsky left the hospital. Oh how Hutch wanted to see their sparkle return, not to mention the Starsky swagger he missed so much.

"Mornin' partner."

"What are you so chirpy about? Didn't think you'd be back."

"Aw come on buddy, someone's gotta get you your eggs just the way you like 'em"

Starsky thought Hutch was in very good humour considering how their last conversation had ended.

"What the hell time is it anyway? Feels like the middle of the night... only woke up 'cause I need a pee."

"It's a little after twelve"

"Twelve midnight or twelve noon?" Starsky managed to get himself into a sitting position with legs hanging over the edge of the bed.

"Twelve noon dummy."

"It's lunch time! Man, must have been those..." he stopped short not wanting to confess to his pill-taking exploits the day before.

Hutch didn't miss the halted sentence.

"Those what?"

"Uh, those extra blankets I put on the bed."

Hutch was to preoccupied to notice that there were in fact no extra blankets on the bed. He was too concerned with clearing things up between them.

Hutch squirmed uncomfortably and put his hands in the hip pockets of his jeans.

"Uh Starsk-"

"Look Hutch, I think I said some dumb ass things last night... and I'm sorry... but I don't want the third degree okay?" Truth was he couldn't recall what he had said exactly as his mind was a blur.

Why do you have to snap at him?

Hutch could see Starsky's mood hadn't mellowed a hell of a lot over night and was in no mood himself for another argument. Before he could reply that he wouldn't give Starsky the 'third degree' as Starsky had put it, Starsky continued.

"Let's just give Nick a chance okay, everyone deserves a second chance?"

Maybe Starsky was right and Nick had turned over a new leaf but somehow Hutch doubted it.

"Yeah, okay but shall I stick with the idea if sleeping at my place just while Nick's here?"

"Wadda ya mean?"

What the hell's he talking about now?

Starsky's head was fairly thumping now that he was no longer prostrate. Shouting didn't help the state of his head either but he couldn't help himself.

"Last night, I said I would stay at my place while Nick was here, don't you remember Starsk?"

"Nope, and I want you here Hutch... we'll work it out... whatever it is there is to work out." He rubbed at his head and then ran his fingers through his wayward hair.

Hutch was surprised that Starsky genuinely didn't seem to recall what he'd said about sleeping back at his place but was grateful in a way as he really felt he should be here with Starsky and too bad about Nick.

"So what am I supposed to do when he's here?"

"Jesus Hutch, grow up would ya?"

Once again the words hit hard and the tone in which they were spoken. This wasn't the Starsky Hutch knew and loved.

"I don't want you to go okay? I need you right now... I'll tell Nick he'll have to sleep on the floor. He said he's only staying a few days."

Hutch rallied all his will power not to respond to the tone of Starsky's voice and the words that continued to hurt him. He had to be strong, ease back and ignore Starsky's mood, putting it down to him having yet another 'off day' which were becoming more and more frequent. He would have to talk to Starsky's doctor and see if Starsky's black moods needed some extra help that he couldn't offer.

Looking at Starsky in the harsh light of day as he sat half-naked on the bed he could only feel sympathy right now for the man that was a shadow of his former self, both physically and emotionally. The pink scars were still highly visible weaving their way around Starsky's torso amongst the dark curly chest hair, some patches longer than others where he had to be shaved for surgery. He could see the tiredness in the face, the hollow cheeks and pale skin. He could see the outline of Starsky's ribs amongst the raised, rough ridges and suture tracks that formed trails across his body. The dulled spark in the eyes that used to dance and win all the girls' hearts'. He thought how vulnerable he looked, muscles wasted, ribs protruding and an overall air of fatigue about him.

Starsky was doing well, everyone had said but God, Hutch wished he would look a little better. His face was pale and almost grey looking most of the time, drained of all colour. The most noticeable thing though was his weight loss; he must be thirty pounds lighter than he should be Hutch thought. Then there was the stiffened gait, no more easy strides - at least not for a while, Hutch pondered. The sight sickened and angered him at the same time. He looked half the man he had been and Hutch would never forgive Gunther for that

"Okay buddy, I'm sure it'll be fine, we'll just take things as they come, like we always do."

"Now can ya help me with the shower before I keel over from the smell of my own body odour?"

Hutch smiled.

"Sure, let's get you up." He put a hand out for Starsky to hold and once Hutch could see Starsky was steady and had got his balance, he headed to the bathroom to get the shower running and everything to hand.

As Hutch prepared some eggs for Starsky he was perturbed at the coughing he could hear coming from the bathroom. When Starsky finally emerged and headed to the dining table, dressed only in his robe and boxer shorts, the wet, phlegmy cough continued.

From his vantage point in the kitchen Hutch caught sight of Starsky clutching his stomach as he coughed some more. Maybe he was worried his guts would fall out if he didn't hold on tight enough Hutch thought. The thick, toweling bathrobe hung unbelted on his thin frame. It seemed two sizes too big on him now and looked ridiculously unfitting, hanging off him so loosely.

Starsky winced as he tried to get comfortable on the hard upright chair. The action didn't go unnoticed by Hutch who was at his side in an instant.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, just stiff and sore as usual, legs feel like rubber."

"I'll get your pills"

Starsky merely nodded before beginning to cough again.

"Some cough there Starsk."

"Must've been all that steam in the shower." He grinned knowing that Hutch was bursting to give him an interrogation.

"How long have you been coughing like that?"

Oh yes, here it comes.

"Oh, about four seconds."

"Starsk you know what I mean. If you have a cold brewing it could knock you right back and you could end up in hospital again."

"Hutch really, it's only just now, I don't feel any worse than usual, if that's possible."

"Well, we better keep an eye on it, you can't risk any infection right now."

"Whatever you say."

Hutch had been busy catching up on the tedium of domestic chores and getting some laundry folded and put away. He was quite proud of how tidy and domesticated he had become while helping Starsky out. It sure wasn't his usual habit, being so organised with the ins and outs of cleaning toilets, mopping floors and vacuuming. He had Fifi to do that for him at his own place but Fifi had to be put on hold while he was staying with Starsky. Starsky hadn't felt like having an outsider coming into his place while he was around all the time and never sure what each day would bring. Hutch wondered if he didn't have to work the long, stressful days he normally did whether in fact he could learn to be tidier and more civilised with mundane household chores. Maybe then he could dispense with Fifi.

True to his word Nick appeared at the apartment later that day. Hutch stopped his chores and went to answer the door. Starsky had heard the knock and knew it would be Nick. He rose stiffly from the couch and began to head toward the door.

"Stay where you are Starsk, I'll get it."

Hutch opened the door and was met by the younger version of his partner. Nick looked startled for just a moment as he had obviously expected his brother to answer the door.

"Hey, mighta known you'd be here Hutch... you two are always joined at the hip. Bit like those Siamese twins huh?" Nick laughed at his own joke and the two stiffly shook hands with Hutch biting his lip to prevent him saying something he may well regret.

Hutch stood aside as Starsky reached the door to greet his brother.

"Hey Nick, good to see you." Starsky gave his brother a big bear hug and as they embraced Starsky found tears welling up for some unknown reason but managed to keep them from falling.

Hutch stood back to give them privacy noticing the glistening tell tale sheen of Starsky's impending tears as Starsky released himself from Nick. He could see the quick flash of shock across Nick's face as he took in Starsky's appearance. His brother was certainly not the same man as a year ago when Nick last visited. The most obvious difference, Hutch knew, was in Starsky's face. The weight loss had left his face looking a lot thinner than it normally did which aged him and did not suit his normally toned frame. The colour of his face too was an ashen grey and there were dark grey circles under his eyes undoubtedly from the continuous lack of uninterrupted sleep he was still experiencing.

Starsky was first to break the awkward silence, knowing his own brother was taken aback at his appearance.

"Hutch's been helping me out Nick, he's staying with me while I get back on my feet."

Start as you mean to go on.

As Nick closed the front door, he placed an arm around his brother's shoulder.

"Well he doesn't need to now Davey, I'm here to look after you. I can do it... that's what family are for... right big brother?"

"Nick, I want Hutch here right now and that's all I'm gonna say on the matter, let's leave it at that."

Don't start with me Nick; I don't need to be piggy in the middle here.

Hutch could not contain his anger and was far less diplomatic than his partner:

"Oh, that's rich from a brother who was never at the hospital."

Oh boy Hutch, why did you have to kick in right away? Starsky thought.

Nick removed his arm from his brother and pointed accusingly at Hutch.

"Hey, where do you get off Hutch, I'm here now aint I?"

Starsky could sense Hutch's hostility and tried to diffuse the tense scene, speaking before Hutch had a chance to reply to Nick.

"Hey, look, could we at least sit down? My legs are beggin' for some release here and I ain't in no mood for a bitching session, one minute after you walk in the door Nick." He glared at his brother before lowering himself down carefully into the couch.

Hutch felt guilty now at letting his mouth run away from him.

Think of Starsky here and zip it.

He wondered if Nick was as bothered by the outburst as they both pulled up a dining chair, leaving the entire couch free for Starsky. Hutch made a concerted effort to keep his emotions in check and remain calm, at least outwardly, despite the fury that bubbled inside him, threatening to spill over at any time.

Nick observed the degree of difficulty Starsky had sitting down and now for the first time really saw how tired and stiff his brother looked.

His mother had told him what had happened but now to be confronted with how David looked in the flesh, up close, was difficult. He thought he looked a lot thinner too but his body was well disguised under a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants.

Right, play it nice. Hutch thought.

"Coffee or tea Nick?" Hutch forced himself to be civil for the sake of Starsky though his question was posed with a somewhat sarcastic tone.

Nick too, relaxed his guard just a little.

"Coffee would be great, that airline coffee leaves a lot to be desired."

Hutch headed to the kitchen. He thought it was a good idea too to busy himself getting Nick a coffee thus leaving the brothers to some privacy.

"So, what you been up to Davey?"

"You mean apart from being shot or as well as?" Starsky grinned at the unintentionally ludicrous question Nick had posed.

Idiot comment Nick. He mentally chastised himself.

"Oh you know what I mean. How are you really doing since the accident and all?"

Starsky internally cringed at the word accident as it had been far from that.

"It wasn't no accident Nick, it..."

Nick could see his brother was getting riled and interrupted.

"Hey, sorry man, you know..."

Lighten up, he ain't the enemy.

"Sorry... yeah, guess I'll get there, it'll just take a lot of time and effort but I've got six months sick leave to do it in and with Hutch's help, I'll make it."

I hope.

Great,'Hutch's help'. Always Hutch this, Hutch that.

"That's good... good... uh, you're lookin' good." Nick was fidgety and restless.

He looks like hell, What am I supposed to say?

"Yeah right, never could fool me, little brother, you haven't seen me naked yet." Starsky's dry attempt at humour.

"Oh, right, scars from the surgery"

"Yeah, a few."

Just over one hundred sutures I recall the figure being and then there are the bullet holes of course.

"Don't chicks find scars sexy and intriguing... macho?" Nick smiled.

"Maybe... yet to test that theory."

Doubt it, probably run a mile, I'll be like some circus show freak. Didn't think about that - another milestone to look forward to.

Hutch entered the room now and served coffee to Nick and Starsky. He then got himself one and sat down, to join the conversation. His nerves and temper temporarily calmed from some time out.

"So, what brings you out here again Nick?"

Hutch couldn't resist a dig any longer and Starsky gave him a stern glare, unnoticed by Nick.

Nick replied with equal sarcasm.

"I came to see David of course, see if I could help out but seems he's got plenty of help... right?"

Because you're always hanging around him like some groupie.

"Doing what I can."

Touche, keep it cool, you're not answerable to him.

"Tell me what happened Davey, sounded really bad from what Ma said."

Understatement of the year. Hutch thought as he made eye contact with Starsky trying to gauge his reaction, wondering if he would feel comfortable discussing the shooting with his brother and curious as to what his response would be.

Starsky moved uncomfortably on the couch and winced just a little.

"Guess so, three bullets never did anyone much good... look I'm alright Nick, I'll make it, that's all that matters right now."

I'm not reliving all the gory details yet again, even for you little brother. I hear the gunfire enough in my head as it is.

Hutch knew what Starsky was trying to do, gloss over it, be staunch, make light of it and he understood why. Don't lose face in front of family.

Starsky began to cough and Hutch didn't know if it was a nervous cough or the resurfacing of what he had heard earlier.

"Okay, okay... hey, what do you say to me treating pizza or Chinese seeing as it's nearly dinner time and I'm starving... whatever you want Davey?"

Typical, make light of things when the conversation gets tough. Hutch thought.

"Sounds good, I've still gotta be careful with what I eat though. You and Hutch go and get some food and bring it back, he knows what I can have."

"Sure, sure, you don't wanna go out some place?"

"It's too difficult right now Nick, I'm still on heavy meds, not to mention crutches, okay?"

"Of course, sorry... I guess I didn't think."

He looked toward Hutch.

You never do think, except about yourself, that's the problem.

"No time like the present, wanna grab your jacket Hutch?"

"Uh yeah"

"Nick, take my key off 'o here, you'll need one while you're staying anyway." Starsky tossed his key ring to his brother to remove the front door key. Hutch always had one for Starsky's apartment and he wouldn't need another one for himself as long as Hutch was staying.

"Thanks, yeah... good idea."

Hutch returned with his jacket on and the mismatched duo headed out on foot to the local deli where Hutch figured there would be food to suit all three tastes. Few words were said between the pair as they headed back with dinner within the hour.

Only small talk was exchanged over dinner and Hutch felt the odd one out as he bowed out of the conversation, letting the two brothers reminisce about their past. Hutch had to admit, despite his own loathing of Nick that it was good to see Starsky enjoying his brother's company. Hopefully this would assist Starsky to forget his aches and pains, if only for a short while. Maybe lighten his depression.

Hutch kept a low profile for the remainder of the evening, clearing up and busying himself in the kitchen, insisting the brothers continue talking about the good old days some more. Starsky was however only too aware of Hutch's dislike and distrust of Nick and knew that Hutch would rather be left out of the conversation for the time being. Later on after discussing who would sleep where it was eventually agreed that Nick would take the floor in Starsky's room and Hutch would continue to sleep on the couch.

A few days passed with the three men living under the one roof, though Hutch was pleased Nick made himself scarce a lot of the time and they gave each other a wide berth. Things had never been great between Nick and Hutch and now they were tiptoeing around each other avoiding each other unless absolutely necessary. Hutch knew Nick resented him being there and acting as Starsky's primary caregiver but he didn't care. The way he saw it, he had a duty to help Starsky get back to being well and signed back on as fit for duty. Besides he wouldn't want to be anywhere else under the circumstances. Equally Nick knew what Hutch thought of him and his petty criminal antics. He would have to keep a low profile, knowing Hutch was watching his every move, just waiting to pounce. The tension was certainly palpable in the Starsky household.

It was the weekend and Starsky woke early and managed to get himself up, showered and dressed without having to call on Hutch. Hutch lay dozing on the couch vaguely aware of Starsky shuffling about and knew his friend would call on him if he needed help.

Starsky felt quite a sense of achievement in such a simple act, as most other mornings he had to rely on Hutch for some part of getting himself up, washed, dressed and presentable for the day. He was however annoyed and moody at the persistent cough he seemed to have developed that kept plaguing him and aggravating his already weakened lungs. His lungs rattled when he breathed and he knew it was not a good sign.

Probably some minor infection like the doctor warned me about. If anything can go wrong - it will. Jesus Christ when will I get a break?

Hutch rose stiffly from the couch and yawned and stretched as Starsky made his way to the kitchen.

"You're up early Starsk."

Suddenly the realisation hit Hutch that Starsky looked showered and presentable.

"Hey, you showered already?"

"Yep, do I get first prize or somethin'?"

"Absolutely... gold medal material in fact. You didn't need me at all this morning... that's got to be good." Good to see a bit of spark back Starsk.

"Yeah right, great achievement... getting myself up, showered and dressed without asking for help... Hoo-ray"

Starsky put great emphasis on the last word in his sentence, to reinforce his mood.

Softly, softly Hutchinson, careful where you tread.

"Starsk, it is great... small steps, sunshine, ain't a competition okay?"

"Alright Mister optimistic, I'll try to keep a permanent smile painted on, how about that?" and to emphasise the point he grinned a wide toothy smile and then let it disappear as quickly as it had been formed. He turned his back on Hutch and made his way to the kitchen.

Hutch paused for thought and then decided to confront Starsky and see if he could offer some reassurance.

Starsky stood at the kitchen bench counting out his morning dose of pills including anti-inflammatories, pain relievers and ones that he couldn't even recall what they were for anymore. Each day seemed to roll into the next at the moment. He sensed Hutch's presence followed by the touch of the comforting hand on his shoulder. Hutch applied a little pressure to the touch before he spoke to Starsky's back.

"Did you have a bad night Starsk, I didn't hear you wake at all?"

Starsky remained facing the sink, staring straight ahead, drilling an imaginary hole into the wall with his eyes. He felt lousy for snapping at Hutch but at the same time felt a 'right' to his inner and private torment. So much had happened lately, it was impossible for him not to have moments of wistfulness, depression and sometimes anger. His mind, not just his body felt totally screwed up and out of control, on their own course some place. His nerves were raw and tender and the continual gnawing pain and broken sleep didn't help any. It was easier it seemed to be angry than to be grateful that he was still alive, albeit with parts of his body and mind changed forever. He hadn't realised he had been so deep in thought until Hutch spoke again.

"Starsk?"

Starsky turned around to face Hutch but refused to meet Hutch's stare, instead focusing on the wall beyond Hutch, looking past him.

"I slept fine... well as well as I seem to lately... can't a guy have an off day... gimme some slack Hutch?" Starsky gripped the edge of the bench as if his life depended on it. His words came out harsher and stronger than he had intended and he mentally chastised himself for being so hard on the one person who had been there for him, every day since the shooting. He hadn't meant to snap at Hutch but the words seemed to tumble out uncontrollably.

Hutch removed his hand from Starsky as if he'd been burned and backed up a few steps. Starsky still remained with his back to Hutch.

"Of course you can have bad times and bad days Starsk, but hey... I'm not the enemy here okay?"

Starsky thought better of his black mood and inhaled deeply before replying.

"I'm sorry Hutch for snapping... wasn't fair, I've only been out of bed five minutes and I'm moaning at you."

Hutch placed both his hands now, gently upon Starsky's shoulders, inviting with touch, not words for Starsky to meet his eyes but Starsky felt to awkward to meet the intent look he could feel upon him. Hutch could see the rigidity in Starsky's forearms as they pressed harder into the unyielding surface as he fought to suppress his true emotions.

"You are doing just fine... it's okay, God knows you've been through hell. We can handle it all right... I'm here for you, anytime you want someone to listen. Remember it's quite normal to feel depressed or angry some days, the doctor told you that. Don't beat yourself up, just try and head for that light at the end of the tunnel."

Nearly saw another type of light at the end of the tunnel when I was in that hospital. Freaked me out. Why can't you talk about it?

He definitely didn't want to mention that topic right now to Hutch who worried enough for a horde of Jewish Grandmother's already. Instead he merely nodded; too tired to enter into some long-winded discussion of what thoughts were flying around his scrambled head. He knew the medications he was taking made him feel groggy and spaced out a lot of the time. It was a love/hate relationship with the pills. Some took the pain away and allowed him to sleep peacefully if only for a few hours. Others seemed to have the effect of a false 'high', where he felt he could conquer anything but the effect was usually short lived and then the pain would sneak its way back in, nipping at his heels as if to say 'give me another pill'. He looked at the few counted pills in his hand, knowing the power they held over him.

Hutch saw Starsky carefully studying them in his hand and could only guess at what his thoughts were.

"Doc said you'll only need to take them for a short time, then you can forget counting them out and remembering which one you last took. It'll be okay Starsky, trust me."

Starsky let out a small laugh and then swallowed the tablets and washed them down with a swig of water.

"Course I do blondie, now get outta here, go and have a run or something, time for you instead of me... I'll be fine."

"Sure, sounds a great idea, a run would do me good and it is ages since I've been out there jogging. May even see that pretty blonde that lives 'round the corner."

Starsky laughed and Hutch felt himself relax at that grin. He took his hand and gently rubbed Starsky's forearm, never taking his eyes off Starsky's.

"Get outta here!"

"Okay, I don't need to be told twice... won't be long."

Okay we can handle it, there's gonna be more days like this I'm sure.

Hutch went to the bathroom and then after changing into shorts and an old t-shirt, headed out the door with a:

"Back soon, Starsk."

Starsky heard but didn't acknowledge Hutch's departure. He knew Hutch would probably be gone an hour or so and he was pleased that Hutch was doing something he enjoyed so much and hadn't been able to do in a long time. He wanted Hutch to do something for himself instead of his invalid partner. At least that's the way Starsky figured it. He knew he shouldn't have been so hard on Hutch, but damn it he sure as hell didn't feel like a ray of sunshine all the time and he knew Hutch would understand - at least he hoped he did.

The simple act of getting himself dressed and organised so far had just about worn him out and he sat down on the blankets that were still strewn across the couch, which acted half the time as Hutch's makeshift bed.

Can't even offer him a proper bed, and with his bad back...

He had only been sitting a few minutes when he began to cough unable to control it as he struggled to get air into his lungs. The cough seared his lungs it seemed, every time he drew breath. They felt like they were on fire, the pain was intense and sharp. It was a catch 22 situation, he needed to cough but when he did, it hurt so much, tearing at his insides. The pain made him grip his chest tightly, part reflex action, part trying to lessen the hurt. He was secretly pleased Hutch wasn't around to fawn over him. He just wanted solitude right now, time to get his head together. He cast an eye toward his bedroom where Nick was still lying on the floor in a tangle of sheets, blankets and one semi-deflated air mattress. Seems like his coughing fit hadn't disturbed him.

He sat on the edge of the couch with his head hung down, legs apart, firmly planted on the floor. His eyes were closed, breaths shallow, as he tried to will the pain away. The coughing subsided gradually and he found himself lifting his legs up, on to the couch and lying full length.

Just great - exhausted and I've only been up five minutes.

Lethargy and weakness got the better of him, taking over his body. He couldn't keep his eyes open a minute longer. He closed them, shutting out the chaos, depression and pain that was his life right now, for just a while.

He didn't know how long he had slept before something or someone jarred him awake. It was Nick who had flopped down beside him, clad in just his boxers. Looking at his watch he realised he must have been dozing for about an hour. Hutch would be home soon.

"Man, that floor sure is a bitch." Nick said stretching and cringing at the same time.

Starsky smiled.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that but you didn't give me a chance on the phone to say I already had a house guest, did ya?"

"Should've known, the blond wonder boy would have been here... speaking of which, where is he anyway?"

"Out for a jog, something he's been needing to do for a long time."

Starsky resented Nick's sarcastic comment about Hutch but was not in the best frame of mind to defend Hutch right at that particular moment.

"Why's he always hangin' around you like a little puppy dog anyway, you've got me now big brother, that's what I'm here for. What is it you two got going on, don't he cramp your style?"

"No and Nick, don't start with me, I ain't in the mood right now..."

Starsky heard someone coming up the outside steps and moments later a sweaty Hutch appeared through the door, breathing fast, shining rivulets of sweat dripping down the sides of his face. Starsky had to admit Hutch looked a damn sight better than he ever did, his muscles were clearly visible on his arms and legs, his skin a shining bronze colour. No wonder the girls drooled over him. Add to the picture his piercing blue eyes and golden hair and you had yourself a regular Greek God, Starsky thought.

Impeccable timing Hutch.

"Hey partner, how was it?"

"Great... good to be out there again... haven't been running... for weeks."

He managed to get out between pants as he stretched out his calf muscles.

Starsky wondered if Hutch had heard any of their conversation.

"Months I'd say Hutch."

"Well, anyway, was good to be out exercising again, great day out there... morning Nick."

Nick made a 'humph' noise and Starsky heard him mutter something about sleeping on the floor, under his breath. Starsky gave his brother a killer stare, which Nick acknowledged with a raise of one eyebrow.

Hutch walked past them and through to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As he stood in the kitchen, swigging the water down he heard Starsky's raised voice.

"Nick, its non of your damn business okay, Hutch..."

Hutch wandered back to the lounge, glass still in hand to see what Starsky was so heated about.

"What Starsk?" the blond asked.

"Doesn't matter."

"Calm down buddy, what's wrong?"

"Nothin'... doesn't matter."

"Someone has something to say about me Starsk, I wanna hear it."

Hutch was second-guessing at the content of the heated conversation between the brothers but at the same time had a pretty good idea that Nick was stirring up trouble again.

"Hutch, leave it. Really, everything's fine." Starsky rubbed a hand across his forehead, willing away the pain behind his eyes.

"Well, it sure didn't sound fine but..."

You don't want to tell me what the problem is, I'll leave it at that.

Nick stood up from the couch and opened his mouth, ready to speak. Starsky sighed at the difficulty Nick appeared to have in keeping his mouth closed.

"I was just saying what is it with you two that you're always hanging around him Hutch? I come to visit and have to sleep on the frigging floor... my back's killing me."

Starsky visibly cringed at the comment knowing how Hutch had dealt with a bad back for years.

Hutch bit his lip, trying to keep his temper controlled, thinking of Starsky's embarrassment. He spoke calmly belying his feelings but with a clipped edge to his voice:

"I know a little bit about bad backs Nick and believe me, I don't think a night on the floor is going to do you any substantial damage. I am here because your brother needs me right now in case that has escaped your attention. He should still be in the hospital but the doctors said he could go home with supervision. I'm it... I'm the supervision, comprendez?"

"Sure, but I'm here now and I can look after him, I'm his family." He put emphasis on the last word, to ram the point home... hard.

"I told him last time I was here he shouldn't be a dumb cop. It'll only get him killed like Pop, but does he listen?"

"Starsky and me for that matter are not 'dumb' cops, we-"

"Nick, stop it!" Starsky had to cough, he put his hands across his middle trying to take the pressure off the killing pain he felt in his gut and lungs.

Starsky's discomfort went unnoticed by Nick who was on a roll now but Hutch saw.

"The lousy money you guys earn for what you do, it's not worth it man." He looked directly at Starsky.

"You two are so entrenched in the system, you-" His voice got louder as he carried on.

"What I choose to do for a living isn't any of your damn business Nick." He spoke with as much authority as he could muster without actually raising his voice as loud as Nick's had been.

Maybe he's scared, thinks he'll lose me, like Pop.

"Because Pop died, doesn't mean I will, every job has its risks."

"Yeah right, name me another job where you stare death in the face every day, for the money you take home."

Starsky didn't respond. Hutch noticed he was looking flushed and could see the pain lines etched in his face, looking more pronounced than usual. It was time to take control of the situation and calm everything down.

"Quit stirring it Nick"

Hutch said rather louder than he had planned.

"Can't you see how upset your brother is... Starsk?" he looked for reassurance or a sign that Starsky was coping with Nick's outburst but despite Hutch's warning, Nick ploughed on:

"You two are entrenched in the system, big kids playing Batman and Robin."

Both Starsky and Hutch knew there was more to come. Hutch knew it was not his home and only Starsky could call the shots right now and decide what to say to Nick and how to get through to him.

"You work together, you spend all your time together, now you're living together... it's unnatural."

"You've got no fucking idea how it is Nick... you don't understand, and..." Starsky tried to reason with his irrational brother. Just the exertion of arguing proved too much for Starsky and Hutch saw him visibly wince in a moment of pain.

Damn pills, haven't kicked in yet.

"Too right I don't damn well understand. Are you lovers or something? Hey, just tell me and I'm outta here, I don't wanna be hangin' 'round with no queer faggots."

Hutch who had his eyes riveted on Starsky's body language was now incensed at Nick's insult. He paused for a few seconds waiting to see if Starsky had the stamina to rally but when Hutch saw him just shaking his head he jumped right in:

"You're unbelievable Nick, you know that?" Hutch pointed at Nick, his cheeks flushed with ire.

"I told you once before, I don't care about you or what you do but I do care about your brother. And no we're not queer and yes we love each other but not in the way you think."

Ignorant pig, you have no idea about the times your brother has saved my hide or been there for me when I needed him.

"You love each other, well doesn't that about say it all? No normal guy says he loves another man... you're nuts Hutch"

Nick looked to Starsky for affirmation.

"We love each other as brothers Nick... get it?"

Starsky looked uncomfortably at Hutch now. His mind still reeling from the unprovoked verbal outburst of his brother.

Shit, this is going nowhere; I have to keep the peace here somehow. It's as bad as having two girls fighting over me! He thought somewhat ironically.

"Have you finished Nick?"

"For now?... Yeah." Nick and Hutch stood and waited for Starsky to offer his thoughts.

"We're partners, that means we do live in each other's pockets most o' the time. I look out for Hutch and he..."

Nick interrupted and pointed back at Hutch who was amazed that they were all even having this conversation.

"He said you love each other... now to most normal people that means you're a queer."

"Well... maybe love is the wrong word here Hutch, I mean..."

Hutch had certainly stated his love for Starsky as a friend several times over the years but Starsky couldn't recall ever saying the same to Hutch. For the first time, in a long while, he looked awkward and uncomfortable in Hutch's presence.

Hutch felt absolutely gutted at the few words Starsky spoke. He never thought Starsky would try to save face with his brother but that's exactly what he was doing. He knew they both had nothing to be ashamed of with the close relationship they had but now Starsky was actually embarrassed of Hutch's use of the word love, the word he had said to Starsky many times before without a second thought. This was a side of Starsky that felt foreign and raw. Hutch's heart ached. He was hurt. He wished a black hole would open in the lounge floor and swallow him up. He'd put his heart on the line and it had been smacked hard. Hutch looked with saddened eyes to Starsky.

"I do love you Starsk and I have no problem saying that. It's not too strong a word for me, after what we've been through over the years"

His gaze dropped to his fingers, which he fidgeted with nervously, unaware he was even doing it.

"I nearly lost you to Gunther... it was too close. Life is too short and I thought you knew how much you meant to me, though lately... well, maybe I'm not so sure. But the fact remains, that no matter what... you will always be a brother to me... the brother I never had."

"I know but Nick here is my blood and if you two..."

Once again Hutch found the imposter Starsky before him speaking words that hurt like knives through his soul. He was wounded to his very core.

"I'm his real brother man and I'm here to look after him."

"Why do you have to fight over me, like some... some piece of meat?"

"I don't have to be accountable to you Nick or anyone else for that matter on my feelings. I never knew you didn't think of me as a brother to you Starsk. I thought you felt the same way I do but I guess not."

Starsky had held his hand through the heroin withdrawal, not only saving him physically, but in spirit too. He had been there when it was assumed Hutch would die from a mysterious plague that ravaged his body, sapping him of all goodness.

Another time and Starsky raced frantically against the clock to find Hutch when he learned he had contracted botulism. Then there was the time Hutch lay trapped in his car after it rolled down a cliff and landed on his leg. He thought he was going to die but Starsky found him. Gillian, who was so dear to him and was cruelly, murdered - Starsky had hugged him and held tight, managing to get him through. The list went on and on. He could always rely on Starsky.

Hutch recalled saying he loved Starsky on several occasions including the time after the car wreck when Starsky had somehow acquired a new car for him, just like his old one that had to be wrecked. There was the time when Starsky had been devastated at blinding a woman in a shooting accident, Hutch tried to comfort and reassure him, telling him he loved him. Had he not heard? Did he really not know how much love and respect Hutch held for him? Didn't he know Starsky was a brother to Hutch? Hutch was surprised that he could recall those times but maybe it was because sub-consciously they meant a great deal to him at the time. He always thought they had a special and unique bond. The bond of brotherhood, as close as if they had been blood. But now it appeared he had misjudged Starsky. He had laid his soul bare, making a fool of himself in the process. Starsky interrupted his thoughts:

"Aw Hutch that isn't fair, I didn't mean-"

Hutch didn't want to hear any more. He wanted this conversation to end. He needed to get out, he was stifling. He needed to get his head straight... needed air. He cut him off, unwilling to talk any more and strode toward the door.

"It's okay."

Starsky could see it was far from okay.

Why did you open your big mouth? You know that's not how it is... what is wrong with me?

"Look, I obviously need to leave you guys alone for a bit, it isn't gonna work, me and Nick under the same roof Starsk."

Hutch was still angry and torn between loyalty to his sick partner and wanting to yell at Nick, no... make that punch Nick. He didn't want to be the cause of any more anxiety or pain. It was best to go, if only overnight and he'd come back the next day. His emotions were running away with him. He needed to stay dignified and controlled, despite having an overwhelming urge to knock Nick out cold on the floor for starting this preposterous conversation. He had to get out or he knew he'd do or say something he'd regret.

"Hutch, don't go... please."

Starsky struggled to get up to physically prevent Hutch from leaving but couldn't get his body to move quickly enough. He stayed where he was, giving into his aches and then spoke with anger and hostility in his voice.

"Shit, I don't need this guys, I don't want to hurt either of you. You don't need to fight over me like some trophy,dammit!"

"No, we don't so I'm out of here, don't worry, I'll call over in the morning and see how you're doing. Look after him Nick, he'll tell you what he needs. See ya Starsk." And with that Hutch was out the door, slamming it so hard it rocked on its hinges behind him. He realised he hadn't even bothered to get his bag or any personal belongings and was still in his sweaty jogging shorts and T-shirt.

"Hutch!" Starsky yelled as loud as his tortured lungs would allow. He tried again to get off the couch and then glared at Nick.

"Help me up Nick!"

"Sure, sure." Nick offered a hand and pulled Starsky up on to his feet.

By the time Starsky was standing and had made it to the front door, he heard Hutch's car driving off down the road, tyres squealing. He could feel his blood pressure rising and his head felt like there was a little man inside it, banging as hard as he could on a big base drum.

"Get me my pills Nick would ya, somewhere on the kitchen bench there?"

Even though he knew he'd only just taken some within the last hour, his mind just couldn't cope.

Nick was silent as he followed the request and went to retrieve the pill bottles.

"Here ya go, which ones..."

"Just give 'em here." Starsky snatched the three bottles furiously from Nick's grasp.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Did you have to antagonise him like that?"

Nick shrugged his shoulders and went to the kitchen silently to get a glass of water for his brother.

"Great, just great..." Starsky muttered under his breath so Nick didn't hear.

Nick returned and offered the water. He then watched Starsky swallow several different coloured pills from his palm. Starsky impulsively took a sleeping pill even though he hadn't been long out of bed. He put a hand out for Nick to grab and help him up and then he managed to get himself to the dining table where he sat down heavily on the hard dining chair figuring he'd at least be able to get out of this seat without help.

Nick followed his brother's lead and sat down across the table from Starsky, trying to read the signals his brother was giving off.

Starsky glared at Nick as he spoke.

"Well top marks for the way you wound Hutch up, Nick"

"He started it! Going on and..."

"Oh please you sound like a big kid, you just couldn't keep that big mouth of yours shut for five minutes could you? Hell, you've only just got here!"

"It's not my fault the guy doesn't like me, he..."

"Look just shut up for a minute would ya?"

Starsky took a swig of water and after placing the glass carefully, he took a deep breath.

"Hutch and me... we're close, that's all there is to it and I don't have to explain how it is with him and me to you or anyone, okay? Why are you so damn jealous anyway?"

Nick laughed a nervous laugh.

"I'm not jealous."

"Yeah, sure you're not."

"Look, what you two get up to, okay that's your business but the amount of time you seem to be living in each other's pockets, hey it don't exactly seem normal that's all."

"Oh, shut up Nick!" Starsky thumped his fist on the table in frustration. The water in the glass swayed and the glass jumped ever so slightly.

Nick said nothing, waiting for his brother to continue.

"We're not lovers, if that's what you're getting at."

Starsky was furious and wanted the pills to work their magic with his brain real soon. He hadn't felt this stressed since he came home from the hospital. Hutch had taken off and now Nick was needling him. He drew breath and continued, unconsciously adopting Hutch's habit of pointing at Nick as he spoke.

"Happy now? Even if we were, which we're not, it's none of your fucking business."

Nick put his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

"Okay, okay, ease up man, you're not an item... I got it!"

"Look, we have to watch each other's backs, we have to be there for each other 24, 7. We trust each other with our lives every day; it's part of our job for crying out loud! Yeah, we live out of each other's pockets, that's how it is when you're on the streets as partners, staring death in the face every day. We work as a team, day and night. Hutch has saved my life Nick, and more than once and I've done the same for him. There's things you'll never know about us where we've helped each other out, things too big and ugly for even you, little brother to understand."

Hutch and his forced heroin addiction were foremost in his mind when he said the last sentence.

"I'm like a brother to him when he says he loves me, that's what he means. Don't you get it Nick?"

"Oh that's friggin' great ain't it, I thought I was your brother?"

Starsky rolled his eyes.

"You are Nick, you're obviously not getting' it"

He's so damn immature, when will he grow up?

Starsky could see the flush of anger in his brother's cheeks, just like when they were kids and Starsky would tease him, as big brothers' are entitled to do.

"No, no I get it."

Nick stood up from the table and made to leave.

"Okay, maybe I said a bit too much, but he riles me up that's all. You'd rather have wonder boy here instead of me, your own family, your own flesh and blood. He means that much to ya?"

Starsky looked up at Nick. The answer needed no time to ponder on.

"Yes, he means that much to me!" Starsky yelled as he hit the table with his clenched fist.

Why can't I tell Hutch that?

Nick stared, unsure how to respond. He'd been here such a short time and this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

"Nick, you didn't come out here just to see me or look after me for that matter... I know you... there has to be another reason."

Nick didn't answer.

"Nick?"

Nick thought quickly.

"That's great isn't it. My own brother thinks I have to be on the take, after something. Well, thanks for trusting me big brother, that's real nice."

Starsky felt too tired to fight with words any more. He had hoped his brother had matured since his last Bay City visit but he had guessed wrong. It was so obvious now to Starsky that Nick was just plain jealous of Hutch.

"I think maybe it's better I'm outta your hair right now Davey."

Starsky let out a heavy sigh as Nick grabbed his jacket, and marched toward the door.

"Later." Nick said without turning around.

"You mean a lot to me too Nick" Starsky spoke to his brother's back.

"Why can't you see that?" Starsky shouted after Nick, as he slammed the door behind him.

Great, the two people I value most desert me in ten minutes flat. Why do I have to choose? Why does Nick have to be so jealous? When will he be back?

The fighting had taken its toll on Starsky and he felt mentally exhausted in addition to his usual round of physical aches and pains. He began coughing again as he tried to ease himself up from the table leaning heavily on it for support. He put his lack of energy and strength down to the additional stress.

Despite only having been up a few hours he retreated to the sanctuary and solitude of his bedroom. He could feel his mental focus failing as his eyes begged to close now that the pill was giving it's all. He lay on the bed only intending to nap but his body surrendered to the pill's effect. He allowed his eyes to close as he let the drugs weave their way into his consciousness, releasing him from his aching body and troubled mind. He knew as long as he could sleep, he could find peace.

He woke later that day and after trying desperately to get his eyes focused he saw the neon numbers on the bedside clock read six p.m. He was surprised that he had been asleep for so long and knew the sleeping pill had been responsible. He felt ashamed now and guilty even that he had resorted to taking a pill to ease his mind.

Thank God, Hutch isn't here, if he found out, he'd give me a damn lecture. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

He wondered where Hutch was, maybe he had tried to call but Starsky had been to out to it? Starsky wondered if Hutch would even return like he said he would. And where was Nick?

He managed to get himself up and through to the couch. He reached for the television remote and began flicking through the channels, eventually finding a favourite black and white movie. He settled back and tried to focus on the screen, his mind still feeling the after effects of the powerful pill.

The day dragged and the telephone didn't ring. He had never felt so lonely in a long time. Maybe this is Hutch's way of punishing me, he thought unfairly. He knew it was selfish but he didn't realise how much he had taken Hutch's help and companionship for granted until now.

He didn't feel much like eating but made himself eat some fruit, easy and no cooking or preparation required. As the evening wore on, there was still no sign of either his brother or partner.

Darkness fell, and the night air chill blew in. He could feel the pain in his body begin to resurface. His shoulder ached and felt stiff, the pain pinching him with a vengeance when he moved it. His back and neck muscles seized in protest when he took just a few steps. His legs no longer felt attached to his body somehow and he was unsteady on his feet. Without Hutch around even for such a short time, he felt more disabled than usual and fear was playing tricks with his mind. He felt sure he hadn't felt this bad the day before or even that morning.

His cough had continued to plague him and his lungs now felt like a world champion Sumo wrestler had taken up residence on his chest. Every breath was short and shallow. The mucus he could feel and hear rattling around his lungs wanted to be expelled but he was too weak now to care and reluctantly choked it back down. He found as long as he sat and didn't move too much, he could breathe easier. Small, little breath's only drawing from the top of his lungs thus avoiding agitating the sore depths where he suspected an infection lay. Probably a low-grade chest infection. He had initially hoped it would go of it's own accord but now this was starting to be a less likely scenario. He would talk to Hutch in the morning and maybe get some antibiotics started. At eleven he took his painkillers and three sleeping pills again hoping that he would soon be oblivious. He got into his bed, relishing the warmth and softness of the covers on his body.

It was to be a bad night. He had to get up several times as he was restless and kept thinking he heard Nick or Hutch coming in. His mind was working overtime as he replayed in his mind what he had said that had offended Hutch.

Surely he knows I love him, I've just never been great at saying it.

His cough was getting worse and he felt the added complication of a fever starting. He began to get the chills, feeling too hot one minute and cold as ice the next. He was perspiring from the fever and could now sense the damp sheets beneath him. He managed to enlist another pillow under his head, hoping to ease the coughing. It definitely seemed to be worse when he was lying flat.

Starsky was relieved when daybreak came at last and he forced himself free from the tangled bed linen to head for the bathroom. He saw the couch was empty on his way past the living room. Obviously neither Nick nor Hutch had returned. He managed to shower himself but couldn't be bothered to shave. Just the basic act of showering seemed to take forever at the slow pace he was moving.

He stood leaning at the kitchen bench for support as he surveyed his array of pill bottles. He counted out what he was due to take and then added a sleeping pill to the handful, choking them back with his glass of water.

He suddenly felt like a kid caught stealing candy. He knew he shouldn't have taken the sleeping pill. He knew it was wrong but he knew what he was doing - right? He wasn't a child. He liked the oblivion the pills brought him, he liked not knowing, feeling out of it for a while, it felt good. It was a release. It stopped him thinking too much. Thinking about Hutch, Nick, Steve, and Gunther.

As he sat on the edge of the bed struggling to put his socks on he heard a knock at the door. He glanced at his watch, which showed just after seven, as he moved stiffly to open the door.

He assumed only Hutch would call by at this time plus only a few people knew he was now home from the hospital. His detective intuition however kicked in before he opened the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me."

Starsky recognised Hutch's soft voice immediately and opened the door unsure of the reception he would receive after the turn of events the previous day.

"You look like shit Starsk."

Starsky was in no mood for Hutch's sarcasm.

"Gee thanks, don't hold back any and top o' the mornin' to you too."

He closed the door after Hutch who headed to the big overstuffed armchair, looking around as he went, undoubtedly looking for signs of Nick being in the apartment. Starsky followed and sat down near him on the couch, coughing as he went.

Hutch noted the cough still didn't sound any better.

"Nick gone already?" Hutch asked trying to be casual about the question.

"Yeah, don't worry you're safe, had to head off early to meet someone."

Starsky wasn't about to dig himself deeper into a hole by letting Hutch know Nick had stormed out right after Hutch the day before and was yet to return.

"I bet he did." Hutch's tone was sarcastic but Starsky ignored the innuendo.

"Why'd he go this early?" Hutch puzzled.

Starsky was quick.

"Oh the guy was flying out some place and Nick had to catch him before he left."

Hutch was buying it so far, Starsky thought.

"That cough isn't getting any better."

Starsky grumbled back:

"Tell me somethin' I don't know."

"Starsk, I'm worried about ya. You've had it for several days and I'm sure it sounds worse than yesterday. If you get it sorted as soon as possible, maybe a course of antibiotics, then you hopefully won't pay the price later. I'm not taking no for an answer on this one Starsk. It's not negotiable and don't argue about it."

"Okay" Starsky muttered quietly.

Hutch hadn't heard and continued trying to win the debate.

"I'll ring the hospital and..."

"I said okay Hutch, just do it, but not today huh?"

"All right I'll make an appointment for first thing tomorrow morning okay?"

"Terrific, I'll look forward to going back to my second home."

Hutch shook his head at Starsky's comment but didn't honour it with a reply. Starsky seemed unable and unwilling to get his emotions back on track - that much was obvious to Hutch. Starsky had appeared even more depressed in the last few days despite the surprise visit from his brother. Hutch observed Starsky was opting not to engage in conversation as often either.

Many people had warned him, the professionals and their friends that Starsky would get depressed and angry, just a natural response to the trauma they had said. The reality, now that they were actually going through it was harder than Hutch could have ever imagined though. He would just have to ride the wave and hope for the best. If Starsky's mood didn't lighten he knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to recommend to Dobey that the police psychologist be involved. It tore him up, seeing Starsky like this and God knows what it was doing to Starsky. Counseling had been offered, in fact recommended to Starsky in the hospital but he was adamantly against the idea and managed to convince the doctor's and Dobey that it wasn't necessary. It would be a miracle if any individual could get through something like Starsky had and remain unaffected mentally. It was a ludicrous notion really now that Hutch thought of it. Of course Starsky should have had counseling. He would talk privately to Starsky's doctor the next day. Hutch had hoped if he could just get through to Starsky himself somehow they would be able to resolve a lot of issues but he now recognised that professional help was what was needed.

Hutch changed the subject.

"How'd you sleep last night? Did you take all your pills?"

Starsky avoided answering how he had slept but said yes to taking his pills.

"Great."

"Yep"

Starsky had no intention of venturing into the events of the day before or discussing Nick. He knew with the tension in the air, Hutch wanted to have it out with him but now was not going to be that time.

"We better get off to your therapy session with Gary huh?"

"Shit, forgot about that." Starsky grumbled.

"Why else did ya think I came this early?"

Won't tell him I was worried sick all night.

"Uh, yeah... well do we have to go today, couldn't we just skip one?"

Starsky felt like crap and besides that his mind was still affected by the extra drugs in his system.

"No Starsk, you know how important it is and besides it's too short notice to cancel now. Gary'll be expecting us."

"I just don't feel so great today."

"You don't look it either, look let's go and see how it goes. I think maybe it would be better if we saw your doctor after Gary. I'm not happy about waiting 'til tomorrow. I think you need some antibiotics now Starsk and Gary may have some clues on that anyway."

Going to have a session with Gary was absolutely the last thing on earth Starsky felt like doing. He said no more knowing it was a waste of time arguing the point with Hutch. It was obvious Hutch was in no mood to let him off the hook. He kept his thoughts to himself and pulled his sweatshirt on over his lean frame. He must have lost 30 pounds since he was first hospitalised and man it showed. Hutch saw it too, saw it every day but said nothing. He would certainly look a lot healthier if he put some of his lost weight back on but they both knew that would take some time. Hutch sensed Starsky's movements seemed slower and more restricted than usual and wondered if he'd made the right decision in insisting Starsky keep the appointment.

"Ready?"

"Oh yeah... a bundle of seething energy pal."

Rather curl up in bed for the day.

It seemed Hutch was only going to get sarcasm and bad attitude from Starsky today. The blond tried to lighten up a bit and relax his demeanour, hoping it might wear off on Starsky. After all Nick wasn't here to give him any more bother. On sensing his partner's obvious lack of enthusiasm to go and do yet another round with the physical therapist Hutch tried to inject some positivity into the moment.

"I know its tedious Starsk but it is that important. You're doing great anyway, you should be really pleased with the progress you've made."

Starsky said nothing and after pulling himself up, they both headed for the door. Starsky picked up his elbow crutches, which lived by the door. He still needed them on his stairs but not around the apartment. He also needed them in public for stability in case he felt unsteady. He still could not walk without them or someone's arm to hang on to a lot of the time, but he had to admit his progress with Gary, the therapist had been good. He just wanted it to happen quicker than it was so he could get back to his job and back to feeling useful and needed again. He hated the fuss that people made over him regarding what had happened and was not a terribly gracious recipient of sympathy and concern over his health.

The ride to the hospital outpatients department went quickly and quietly. Neither man said much and Starsky was well aware of Hutch half watching him out of the corner of his eye all the time. Hutch was still mulling over the words that had been said the night before, wondering if he had over-reacted. It was clear however that Starsky had no intention of raising the subject. They had always been able to talk to each other about anything and everything, or so Hutch thought. Maybe now was different. Had Gunther really changed all that?

Hutch felt guilt at not staying the night but at least Nick had been there to help. Hutch had actually relished the solitude and quietness of his own apartment where he hadn't stayed a whole night for months. It had given him time to reflect and think and he had even managed to strum a few chords on his guitar, which he hadn't picked up since Starsky had been shot.

At the hospital Starsky began his session in the usual way with some gentle warm up exercises. Hutch took his usual observer's seat on the bench away from Starsky and Gary. Starsky had never minded having Hutch as an audience and certainly Gary had never questioned it. There were few patients that had friends or family join them for physical therapy. Perhaps the people they could have asked were all working during the day. Starsky knew he was lucky that Hutch had so freely given his time and his vacation leave to help Starsky recuperate. He did appreciate Hutch being on hand to give him moral support as well as physical. Only today Starsky was in no mood for Hutch even being there. He felt self conscious for some reason and his emotions were running high. He could feel tension and stress seething within him and to complicate matters he felt shivery and feverish. He knew he was subconsciously thinking of Nick. He was also thinking how he had unintentionally hurt Hutch, the one person who he least wanted to hurt on the planet.

Gary gave his patient's calves and shoulders a quick rub down and massaged them, which at any other time Starsky would have enjoyed but it hurt Starsky like hell. His nerve endings tingled and he couldn't relax.

Starsky began on the treadmill, set as always on the slowest setting. He tried to stay focused on the instructions Gary was giving him as he clutched the rail in front of him. His mind was wandering. He hadn't used the treadmill for several sessions and never liked this particular piece of equipment. He found it extremely hard on his legs, which were still struggling to gain their muscle tone back. He knew though of course this is exactly why Gary made him use it.

He tried desperately to keep his goal of walking unaided, pictured in his mind as he tried to keep his paces even. He couldn't believe a simple thing like this took so much of his concentration. Once his gait was steady Gary put the timer on for ten minutes and then left Starsky to it and went over to talk to Hutch and make a few notes on his patient's file.

As Gary began to make his notes he spoke softly to Hutch ensuring his voice couldn't be heard by Starsky.

"Doesn't seem his usual self today Ken."

"No, I think he's coming down with something. Thought we'd take him to see the doc later today or tomorrow. I think he's got an infection which needs knocked on the head before it compromises him further."

"He sure doesn't look as good as he has in the past but his attitude's off today too which doesn't help."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh come on Ken, when you've been in this game as long as I have you can tell. I'll take it easy on him and see how he goes."

"Thanks Gary."

Glad I'm not imagining Starsky's moods then.

"Gary can I ask you-" but before Hutch could complete his question he was interrupted by Gary shouting.

"David!"

Starsky's breathing had quickened and he felt sick. His heart was beating erratically and fast just like when he was a kid.

Don't panic, calm... slow your breathing down... slow.

But he couldn't fight the panic that was engulfing him. He was having difficulty keeping his balance despite holding the rail as his legs were forced into working faster and harder. After a few minutes he could feel the flow of salty sweat running down his flushed face and his heart pumping double time as he struggled to keep up with the pace of the machine. His legs were protesting and his calf muscles were beginning to cramp and seize up. His mind couldn't focus. He was thinking of Nick.

Why did he turn up out of the blue? Was Hutch right that he is a loser? Where the hell is he anyway?

He thought of Hutch.

Why did I say what I said? Why do I have such a hard time saying how I really feel?

As he lost further focus, he found it harder and harder to breathe. Suddenly without warning his right leg gave way, collapsing under his weight. He heard Gary yell his name and for a moment he blacked out and thought he might vomit. He fell hard on to the rubber belt and gripped at his chest.

Hutch had been distracted by his conversation with Gary but when he heard Gary scream Starsky's name his glance flew up to the treadmill, a few yards away. He saw Starsky begin to falter but was too far away to react quickly enough. He heard the loud thump as Starsky's body hit the belt. Gary was first there and could only guess that Starsky had somehow stumbled, losing his balance. He rushed to switch the machine off with Hutch just a step behind him.

Starsky lay in a tangled heap, his pride possibly having taken the worst fall of all.

"Fucking machine." He cursed while remaining lying in an undignified manner, legs akimbo. He thumped the sidebars of the machine but regretted his reaction, promptly recoiling at the pain that radiated through his hand from the unyielding steel of the machine. Then he began to cough again. He held his hands, one across the other, over his ribs, trying to stifle the next bout that would undoubtedly come.

Hutch took one hand and Gary the other and between them they managed to get Starsky carefully upright again and over to the bench to recover. Hutch felt a heat emanating from Starsky's skin that he hadn't felt before. He wondered if it was from the exertion and embarrassment of what had just happened or something more sinister like a fever. He had heard the ominous cough again when Starsky fell.

Starsky sat down heavily and began rubbing his knuckles trying to knead the pain away. He leaned forward with his body, sitting only on the edge of the bench. His head hung down as he concentrated on getting his breathing even. Hutch sat close, wanting to protect and nurture while Gary observed from a standing position.

"Are you hurt Starsk?" Hutch asked softly, easy.

Starsky continued cradling his hand alternating with rubbing at his cramping calf muscles. There was no real damage done that he could tell. He just felt like an idiot and silently cursed his weakened state.

"More than I usually hurt? No... just cramp"

He resumed biting his lower lip, his face creased with pain.

Gary stepped into action and bent down to gently rub Starsky's aching calves. Starsky hissed between his teeth at the pain the gentle hands caused.

"What happened Dave?" Gary asked quietly.

Starsky looked up to meet Gary's face.

"Wadda ya mean what happened?"

The outburst stunned both Hutch and Gary.

Starsky tried to rein his anger in and lowered his voice, just a bit.

"You turned the damn thing on a higher level than normal and I couldn't keep up... simple as that."

Hutch felt awkward and embarrassed at his friend's behaviour toward Gary but also felt he knew the real reason for Starsky's anger.

Starsky's depression had taken a hold of him, then Nick turning up with little warning and the arguments the day before. Hutch was also convinced that Starsky had some type of infection or virus brewing. He felt the need to intervene and calm things down. He placed a caring hand around Starsky's shoulder and pulled him in close.

"Starsk I'm sure Gary wouldn't make you go above a level you feel comfortable with. Maybe you weren't able to concentrate as well today. You feel like you're burning up to me buddy."

To confirm his suspicions he placed his hand on Starsky's forehead but Starsky pushed it away too quickly for Hutch to assess whether in fact he had a fever. Starsky was humiliated and was not going to admit to feeling like death warmed up. He hadn't been home long enough from the hospital and he did not want to be readmitted because of a slight fever. He met Hutch's eyes with his own, full of rage and anger, devoid of their usual clarity and sparkle.

"I'm fine, quit mothering me Hutch!" His tone condescending and sharp.

"Hey, take it easy..."

Hutch didn't need to be told twice and backed off, moving his body so he was no longer touching Starsky.

Gary intervened trying to get Hutch out of where this conversation was headed. He didn't want his patient to be discouraged by the fall and chose his words carefully.

"Ken's right Dave, the treadmill was on the setting you always have it on. In fact you've worked with it higher than the level it was on today."

Now Hutch was out of the firing line, Starsky turned his wrath on Gary.

"Great, so now you're calling me a liar?"

"Starsky stop it!"

Hutch yelled as he rose from the hard bench enabling him to see Starsky's face and hopefully get through to him.

Gary luckily didn't appear to be too hurt by the attack.

"Its okay David, your body obviously isn't ready for it yet. It doesn't matter, it's..."

Starsky had heard enough:

"I'm sick and tired of coming in here every day and working my ass off for minimal results... it stinks!"

"Oh come on David, your results have been ahead of target up to now, give yourself some credit here."

"Yeah right... well it sure don't feel like I'm progressing quickly enough."

Starsky continued rubbing his knuckles unaware of Hutch still carefully observing him. He was startled when Hutch took the hand in question and began examining it.

"You'll live, just banged it pretty hard, tough guy. How's the cramp, is it easing?"

Hutch smiled trying to bring Starsky's mood back into line and began to massage the hand, gently and carefully.

"Well, thanks for the assessment Doctor Hutchinson, I think I could've worked that one out for myself."

He ignored the questioning on the cramp and for the second time that morning, he pushed Hutch's hand away. Hutch rolled his eyes skyward. Nothing he did was right it seemed.

"David, leave it for today, give yourself a break and we'll call it quits for now."

"No!"

Hutch was surprised at the power of Starsky's single word.

"David, you're tired, it is allowed you know." Gary spoke softly.

"I need to finish here, it's important, I can do it. Stop treating me like a kid and let's get on with it." He shrugged his shoulders stiffly and cast his eyes around the bench looking for his crutches.

Hutch could sense Starsky's mood was in no signs of abating and felt another outburst would inevitably spew forth. He handed him the crutches, which were grabbed roughly and silently.

That reassuring hand was back on his shoulder.

"I'm taking you home, big guy."

"No Hutch, I said I wanna finish what I started. Now getta out of my way, would ya?"

Hutch was shocked by Starsky's dark mood and was hoping he could handle this foreign side of his partner that people rarely saw. His stubbornness on the other hand was legendary.

"Give it up Starsk, for Christ's sake, your body's telling you to take it easy, can't you see that?" he pleaded.

But no Starsky couldn't see it, couldn't see that his frustration and anger was reaching sky-high limits and eating him up. He was unable to control his emotions at all. They seemed to have taken over his whole being. Now he had started on this path, he found it impossible to turn back.

"No, buddy boy, I guess I can't... what would you fuckin' know anyway?"

Starsky took a deep breath, shocking even himself at the strength and power of his words and the black anger in his voice. He could feel the adrenaline pumping around his body and a tremble that was all consuming as he shouted at the one person who meant the world to him.

It's not Hutch's fault, calm down. Tell them you feel lousy, tell them your mind feels like a runaway train. Tell them your body feels strung out. They'll understand.

But no, he was powerless against his emotions. His mind was racing at one hundred miles an hour, his mouth spouting words that stung and wounded the people that mattered most to him. Words he had not intended to say but it was too late to retract. He felt so tired and his body was wracked with pain. Every inch of his being was screaming but he felt that he was dying quietly inside. He was powerless both physically and emotionally unable to surrender and admit defeat. He didn't want Hutch fussing and fawning and he certainly didn't want to see another hospital room again in a hurry. Fear was rising within him, h felt sure he'd go crazy if he had to spend any more time back there, in that sterile, institutional environment, staring at the bland white walls he knew so well.

"Show's over, just get me up unless you wanna see me fall again!"

Starsky was now aware of his head pounding in time with his beating heart as the adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Hutch looked away for just a moment and tried to take stock of his emotions.

It's a natural reaction; he's tired, stressed and angry. Let it go, he's pissed at everything right now.

Hutch took a deep breath before he spoke:

"It's okay to take it out on me partner but Gary doesn't deserve you yelling at him... he's trying to help for Christ sake!"

Starsky was embarrassed and knew it was time to surrender. The fight had left him; he felt tiredness envelope him. Tired, hurt, confused, angry. He had lost this debate and would have to admit defeat. He couldn't raise any more argument and what would be the point he asked himself? He felt humiliated and knew his over reaction had been excessive and unnecessary. He cursed his lack of self-restraint and inability to swallow his pride and keep his mouth shut. He had behaved appallingly and he knew it.

Hutch offered his hands without saying a word, to help Starsky up.

Oh Starsk, why do you fight so damn hard?

Starsky struggled to his feet and after getting his crutches in position began the long walk to the exit. He said nothing and kept his dignity by not meeting Gary or Hutch's eyes. He bit down hard on his lip trying to quell the fire that raged within.

Hutch watched him struggle toward the door knowing he was hurting bad and not just on the outside. When he saw him out of earshot, he felt the need to apologise to Gary on Starsky's behalf.

"Look Gary, I'm sorry he went off at you."

"It's okay, really Ken, isn't like I haven't faced this sort of reaction before. Not uncommon and I mean it when I say he's been making great progress. I would be the last person to patronise my patients. He really is doing fine, cut him some slack that's all he needs, take care of him and call me tomorrow, but Ken I think you should get him up to the doctor. He has got a minor infection I'm sure. Look I'll call now and you just go straight up there. I'm sure you'll be slotted in under the circumstances."

There ain't much slack left to cut Hutch thought wryly.

"Thanks Gary."

Hutch caught up to Starsky in a few strides.

"That's it Starsky, we'll go on over to the other building and see the doc. Gary's called ahead for us, you're not yourself Starsky 'cause you're still in pain and you've got some type of chest infection."

"Brilliant deduction detective."

Hutch had about as much as he could take. He ignored the flippant comment and led the way to the doctor's outpatients' department.

An hour later and they were out of the doctor's office armed with a prescription for some strong antibiotics. While Starsky went to the bathroom after the appointment, Hutch had a discreet word with the doctor about Starsky's moods and the doctor agreed to set up an appointment the next day with a hospital psychologist experienced in dealing with depression following people who had suffered major trauma. He mentioned to Hutch that he was surprised that Starsky had asked for his painkiller and sleeping pills prescriptions to be renewed even though he should still have had plenty left from the original prescription.

"Ken, just keep an eye on him, could be he's been self-medicating more than he should which could also explain some of his mood swings."

Hutch was horrified.

Why didn't I give him his pills? How could I have not noticed? It all makes sense now. Sleeping longer than normal, irritable and biting my head off all the time. I'll have to wait for the right time to tackle him about it. He knew how testy Starsky would be but he also knew that Starsky knew more than most, what large amounts of drugs can do to a person.

As they walked the slow walk to the car, Starsky broke the silence first.

"You satisfied now?"

"No Starsky, I wish you didn't have an infection and I wish I'd taken you to the doctor sooner. You don't get points for suffering more than you need to you know."

Hutch's comment was met with an incoherent mumble.

"We'll drive by the pharmacy and get the prescription filled and they should kick in straight away."

Hutch helped Starsky get in the car and Hutch started the engine. Before they exited the parking lot, Starsky could not maintain the silent treatment a moment longer:

"Hutch, I'm sorry I yelled at ya"

"When? Today, yesterday, last week, last-"

"Okay okay... look I'm sorry... 'sall I can say right now."

Hutch was hurting too but he knew he had to continue to be strong for his partner.

Starsky made a point of looking out the passenger window, away from Hutch and out to the sidewalk, pretending to take an interest in the scenery as it sped by. Hutch continued to focus all his attention on the road ahead, a genuine reason not to make eye contact. He was still reeling from the fact that Starsky might be overdosing on pills.

"It wasn't fair for you shouting at Gary like ya did, if you wanna take your anger out on someone do it on me, not people who are trying to help you."

"I said I was sorry!"

"We all have bad days Starsky."

"Don't patronise me Hutch."

"I'm not!"

"Don't need to shout." Starsky muttered.

Hutch smiled as he sensed what his partner was trying to do.

"Just don't like you being so hard on yourself, you've got to give yourself time."

"I'm sick of people telling me that Hutch, don't you get it?"

"Yeah, I get it" Hutch said wearily.

"But it's the truth... look Starsk, I just thank God that you're still here with me all right?"

Hutch took his eyes off the road for just a moment to try and impress how grateful he really was by making eye contact with his partner. Starsky had pulled through and hadn't become just another police officer killed in the line of duty like his father before him. How could Starsky be so down about getting a second chance at life? Hutch couldn't begin to understand the complexity of Starsky's emotional state. There was definitely something strong and powerful threatening to envelop Starsky and Hutch was going to get to the bottom of it. His train of thought was interrupted as Starsky now turned his vision away from the car window.

"Aren't you mad at me... I deserve it?"

"What would be the point of me getting mad as well as you huh?"

"Might make me feel less guilty." Starsky said sheepishly.

"Well, you're outta luck, just forget it... I already have. No big deal okay?"

Hutch took his eyes from the road, long enough to give Starsky a reassuring smile to reinforce his sentiment. There would never be hard feelings between these two, well not long lasting ones anyway.

"Yeah, well I just wasn't focused today. I'm so sick of being sick Hutch, being tired all the time. I just wanna get on with it and get rid of those damn crutches."

You're tired buddy because of too many pills.

"Tiredness is your body's natural defense, listen to your body and rest if you need to. Don't try and fight it all the time."

"Alright wise guy, I'll try... Nick ain't helping matters though is he?"

"Oh don't worry about him. Don't you think you've got enough to worry about right now, like getting better?" Hutch guarded his words carefully not wanting to go off on a tangent about what he really felt and thought of Starsky's irritating and thoughtless brother.

Starsky gathered his thoughts and let out his true thoughts.

"I'm sorry if I upset you last night Hutch, it wasn't my intention... honest."

Hutch knew the apology was hard for Starsky and kept his eyes conveniently focused one hundred percent on the road. He said nothing for what seemed an eternity to Starsky, then spoke softly and carefully.

"I know that and I shouldn't have stormed out, its just Nick got the better of me I guess."

Starsky knew Nick was partly to blame for Hutch's walking out but he also knew Hutch was being diplomatic and avoiding the fact that Starsky's words had obviously stung. Starsky felt vulnerable and afraid confronting his emotions right now. There seemed to be too much activity buzzing around his brain at this time. He was finding it hard to handle and diplomacy had never been a strong point of his. He was grateful for the fact that Hutch was seemingly letting him off light on this one.

"Yeah, well he worries me too, but he's my family Hutch and I have to be there for him."

Hutch admired Starsky's loyalty even though he knew Nick to be a two-bit loser and a user of people including Starsky. Nick was very adept at using Starsky's generosity and big heart to his own advantage but Hutch felt sure that Starsky hadn't come to this conclusion - not yet anyway.

"Well enough about Nick, I guess we'll see him soon enough."

Hutch made light of Starsky's statement as they pulled up at Starsky's apartment, having stopped off at the pharmacy en route. Hutch went around to the passenger side and got the crutches ready in position. As Starsky was maneuvering out the car he asked:

"Hutch are you going to stay tonight?" Starsky was really hoping Hutch would, especially as Nick had proved so volatile and unreliable the night before.

Hutch knew he had agreed to be Starsky's caregiver but couldn't bear to think of sharing more time than absolutely necessary with Nick. He knew Starsky still needed him but figured with Nick there he would have the support he needed. He felt torn but did not want a repeat performance of the previous night.

"Look Starsk..." How do I tell him?

"It's Nick isn't it?"

"I know he's your brother and all but..."

"Yeah, yeah it's okay Hutch, you can say no."

Please don't say no... please.

Starsky couldn't wait for an answer and struggled toward the steps on his cumbersome but indispensable crutches, the exertion of the few steps after a weary day, proving hard going. Hutch was right behind him with an unseen arm hovering behind Starsky's back just in case he should fall.

"You know he and I just can't exist in the same room for more than a few minutes." It was easier for Hutch to indirectly say no to Starsky's back than his face, as they made their way slowly upward to the door of Starsky's apartment.

Starsky was disappointed at Hutch's answer but had expected it. Trouble was he really didn't want to be alone again.

"Just tonight Hutch... please. Nick'll be leaving in a few days anyway."

He was grateful that Hutch could not see his eyes, as he was sure they would reveal too much right now. He could feel tears welling and was surprised at how easy they came. He continued on up the steps, slowly and carefully, anxious in case he lost his concentration for a second time that day.

Don't be a scaredy cat, I don't need Hutch twenty four hours. The guy's had it with me especially after today's outburst.

"Okay, I'll stay tonight and we'll see how it goes."

"Thanks Hutch."

"How about we'll give therapy a break for a few days? Gary suggested it and I think it's a wise idea."

"Sounds good to me."

They made it to the door and Starsky stood balanced on his crutches as Hutch crossed in front to unlock. Hutch thought another hour spent in Nick's company and he was sure he would do or say something he could regret for life. He didn't want to be responsible for any more tension between himself and Starsky and would just have to bite his tongue.

As they approached the door, they heard the familiar voice of Nick inside. The front door entered directly into the lounge of the one bedroom apartment. It was obvious straight away that Nick had not heard them driving up, or ascending the stairs. He rushed to shut the lid, on the attache case he had on the coffee table only managing to secure one catch before he rose from the couch looking very agitated. Another man, aged about forty who looked like he weighed over 200 pounds was squeezed into the armchair. He looked to be of Mediterranean heritage and was dressed in an ill fitting dark suit. His necktie was pulled loosely around his neck and the top button of his creased, white shirt was open. He was puffing on a cigar, the distinctive smell of which assaulted Hutch's nose from the moment he opened the front door. Nick was also dressed in a tailored suit, though somewhat superior quality to his friend's. He too had been puffing on a cigar but on seeing his brother and Hutch arrive he quickly put it out in one of the two glasses of beer that sat on the table. Starsky closed the door behind him and leaned heavily on his crutch as he took in the scene that greeted him. He was exhausted and ready to greet his bed or the couch with open arms, either would do right now the way he was feeling. The sleeping pill was still dulling his senses. He wished he'd never taken it now and was trying to stay lucid until he could get some place to lie down and rest. He saw the cigar unceremoniously extinguished in the near empty glass of beer. He knew Nick wouldn't have thought of finding an ashtray, though Starsky doubted one even existed in his non-smoking household.

Starsky was livid. His brother deserts him and then turns up with some seedy, fat deadbeat in tow and to top it off, they both decide to smoke a few cigars, the stench of which was already irritating his throat. He fought the urge to cough so that he could get out the words he wanted to say to Nick and his guest.

"Nice of you to show up little brother." Starsky was working hard at keeping his anger in check.

Nick stood up and nervously began to try and talk his way out of things. The way he always did, even as a child. He had that same feeling of being caught after he had kissed Mary Riley behind the bike shed at school when he was fourteen... only this was worse... much worse, especially if his brother knew what he'd been doing. He thought it would have been a five-minute transaction with his dealer but they'd had a few beers and time had obviously flown away on them. At least he took some comfort from the fact that the stash was locked away in the brown leather case for now.

"Yeah, well, been busy Davey, I was outta town all last night, up the coast. How are you any way?" He quickly tried to change the subject.

With a sickening feeling in his gut, Hutch realised from the conversation that Starsky had spent the previous night, alone. He would never have left if he had known Starsky was to be on his own. He shot a look of anger at Starsky.

"Why didn't you call me Starsk?"

Starsky ignored the question and instead layed into Nick.

"Nick, what the HELL are you doing smoking in my place when you know I can't stand it, especially those putrid Cuban cigars?"

Hutch saw the subtle tremor in Starsky's body and heard the unmistakable shake in the voice. He knew Starsky was barely hanging on right now. This day had proved too difficult and now to top it off, things didn't look like they were getting much better. Hutch remained silent, not wanting to add to the thick tension that already filled the room.

He knew it was hard for his friend to acknowledge that his brother had let him down not just once, but several times now.

Nick was relieved that David only seem concerned about cigars for now, knowing he was at high risk of being discovered. He rubbed his palms nervously down his pant legs and looked at his brother sheepishly.

"Yeah, well I'm sorry... look I've put it out." He pointed to the glass on the table.

"I can see that but the place still stinks. What're you doing here anyway, and who's your lard arse friend over here?" He pointed to the man. Starsky's cop sense had taken over as soon as he entered his apartment and he knew that Nick was up to no good and trouble was brewing. He was in no mood for niceties.

The mystery man, who had been sitting silently through the verbal exchanges, looked shifty and anxious as hell and it didn't even take Starsky's detective skills to see it. The sweat was pooling on his greasy forehead and his face twitched in a nervous fashion. He tugged at his necktie, releasing it some more as he felt his temperature rise. He lumbered out of the armchair wanting to get out now the deal was done. This guy had crook written all over him Starsky thought.

"Hey, who you calling a 'lard arse'?"

Hutch smiled to himself as the man challenged Starsky's less than subtle comment. The man reached for the attache case holding its precious goods, unaware the lid had not been secured down properly. As he pulled it upward, off the table, the lid flipped back and the contents of the case spilled out on the floor for everyone to see.

Starsky and Hutch stood rooted to the spot looking incredulously as the small uniform packets of white powder they recognised tumbled forth landing with a small thud on the carpet. They both knew with Nick's troubled life that the uniform bags undoubtedly contained either cocaine or heroin and there looked to be at least a dozen packets. The question was who was the buyer and who was the seller? Though did it actually matter? Both crimes were illegal and carried a hefty jail sentence. Either way, the two detectives knew they had just witnessed a criminal act, a transaction that could put Nick and his partner in crime away. Starsky was momentarily stunned. He really hadn't expected this, not to this level. Maybe a bit of weed exchanging hands but coke? This was heavy stuff. How did his brother have the nerve to be dealing in these top end drugs? Nick had confessed to dealing with marijuana in the past but had assured Starsky on his last visit that he had never touched anything harder than that. Obviously he had moved up to the 'big time' since then and now the evidence was laid bare for all to see. This put Starsky in one hell of a position and his brother knew it.

"Davey, it's not what you think, honestly, I..."

From somewhere deep within, Starsky rallied his diminishing strength and shouted Nick down:

"I'm a cop for Christ sakes. You're dealing coke in my apartment and you expect me to believe..."

The game was up. The fat man was quick... too quick. Neither Starsky nor Hutch had time to see it coming. Hutch had been just as stunned as his partner to see the drugs right under their nose, in Starsky's living room.

At the mention of the crucial word 'cop' the man pulled a gun deftly from the rear of his waistband, where it had been stowed, hidden under his suit jacket. He knew he had to get out, and fast. Unfortunately for the others instead of leaving quietly, he panicked, and began waving the gun at Nick, who stood just a few feet away. He wanted to ensure he could get himself away in one piece. The gun was a bit of insurance. It would buy him the time to get a long way from the scene of the crime and away from the cop who had witnessed it all. He wasn't about to be sent down for dealing.

"You bastard, you set me up, get outta my way." Spittle spewed forth as he spoke the words through gritted teeth.

Nick had no intention of being shot as his brother had been and instantly put his hands in the air, gesturing his surrender. All the while his eyes stayed riveted on the gun which may or may not result in the end of his life.

"No... no... I didn't... honest Jimmy." He offered meekly.

But it wasn't enough for Jimmy who cocked the trigger to add emphasis to his anger at what he believed to be a set up. Nick remained motionless, sweating profusely with his hands still up in the air.

Hutch could see that Jimmy was in no mood for bargaining right now. Hutch had no clue whether murder was on his agenda or not. Hutch had to act quickly. Impulse and adrenaline took over. He could see the man was well and truly spooked and things were turning rapidly to the proverbial custard. He visibly took in the position of the gun pointed at Nick and knew he had to act quickly. He had no time to gauge Jimmy's state of mind. A moment too long and Nick would be history He knew Nick would likely be killed out right, right here in front of his own brother. As much as Hutch despised Nick, he knew how close Starsky was to his brother. The way Hutch saw it; it was very simple... there was only one option.

Hutch silently cursed the fact that both his and Starsky's guns hung safely in their holsters, in the closet. He and Starsky had not been carrying their weapons on them very often while they were both on leave. He acted on gut instinct knowing he had to prevent Nick getting shot. He knew he could do it, he had the training and skills to take this Jimmy down. Besides he wasn't going to have Starsky acting impulsively in his current state of health. To hell with what he thought of him as a person, he was Starsky's brother. He had to move quickly.

Starsky witnessed with horror as the blond seemed to effortlessly dive between Jimmy and Nick, head down, charging like an angry bull, creating a barrier between the two men. Starsky was stunned and stood watching helplessly as the scene unfolded, as if in slow motion before his very eyes. He knew the danger Hutch was placing himself in and he knew why he was doing it - to save Nick.

Jimmy panicked and his finger slipped on the moist trigger. The gun went off, the bullet missing Nick narrowly and lodging in the wall behind him. Though it appeared Nick hadn't been hit, he fell to the ground, his hands around his head in a desperate act of self-defense. Everything was moving too fast. Nick saw his life flash before him just like people say, the moment he heard the click of the trigger as it pulled back. He closed his eyes tightly when he heard the roar of the bullet. Then he was down. He could hear his brother shouting so loud it hurt his ears. His head was pounding and his heart felt as if it would burst forth any minute from his chest.

Starsky tried to clear the hopeless flurry of clouds that floated around his dulled mind, trying to think what move he should make, if any. He began to edge forward, leaning on his crutch, which he had not yet abandoned.

Hutch continued trying to get the man to release the gun, upping the pressure he was applying to his wrist. They grappled for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably seconds. Hutch's opponent was strong and built like an ox. Hutch realised with a sinking feeling in his gut that what had seemed to be so clear cut... was not. What was to be a simple and skilled intervention was now turning very dicey. With a sudden shot of fear Hutch knew he was pushing the odds just down to the sheer size and strength of his opponent. He was pleased that Nick was unhurt and temporarily out of the picture as he caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye, down on the floor and out of harm's way. Hutch gripped tighter to the man's wrist fearing if he were to let go he would become the next target.

Jimmy managed to raise his arm just enough from under the intense pressure. His gun positioned closer to his assailant than where it had been pointed - at the floor. He involuntarily pulled on the trigger in his desperation to get his assailant off him. It was point blank range. The projectile had nowhere else to go. The bullet expelled and followed a short path as it ploughed directly into Hutch's gut.

Instantly, the searing pain told Hutch he'd been hit. He could not prevent the scream leaving his lips as the intense fire burned his body as if a flaming spear had been thrust deeply into his flesh. A guttural moan followed the scream and then his body lost all control as it arched backwards, reeling from the force of the blast.

Lucked out this time Hutch thought wryly as his legs turned to rubber and folded awkwardly and uncontrolled beneath him as he fell heavily to the floor. His last coherent thought was of Starsky, still somewhere within the room, unarmed. It was typical of the detectives to think of each other at a time like this; never sparing a moment's thought for their own pain.

Starsky saw Hutch go down just as he was in arm's length of reaching Hutch's opponent. The fat man with the ruddy complexion was stunned, stalling for just a brief moment in time as he realised the enormity of what had just occurred. He had shot an unarmed man and a cop at that. His hesitation cost him dearly as Starsky managed to raise his crutch and lashed out with all his might, striking the man over the back of the head. Starsky heard the resounding crack of bone as the wooden crutch hit home. The man faltered a few steps and then appeared to lose consciousness quickly, falling ungraciously on top of Nick who remained prone on the floor.

Starsky threw the crutch, which had served him so well, to the ground, its purpose served. With difficulty and a great degree of stiffness he struggled down to the floor, using the arm of the chair to bear his weight. It didn't take him long upon seeing the severity of Hutch's wound and the quantity of blood to realise it didn't look good and Hutch was in dire trouble. He could see the blood was escaping too fast indicating a massive bleed as Hutch lay still, eyes closed. Starsky quickly felt for the carotid artery pulse in Hutch's neck and let out the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding as he felt it beating gently beneath his fingers. Weak and erratic, but it was beating. The sweat of fear appeared on the dark haired detective's face giving a sheen to his pale skin. He chewed subconsciously on his lower lip hard; an instant reflex to quell any tears that threatened to escape. His blazing blue eyes glistened with the moisture of unshed ears. He cast his eyes skyward silently saying a prayer asking for some divine intervention.

Nick's chest felt as if it was being crushed in a vice. Had he been hit... the bullet? He could barely breathe as he heard his brother's voice yelling, but his brain seemed two steps behind, unable to comprehend the words.

Is this it, does it all end right here and now?

His eyes remained tightly closed, the fear of opening them, proving too great. His heart continued to race and thump within his chest, fit to burst forth.

Maybe I'm not dead, open your eyes... go on... do it!

His ears were still ringing from the gun blasts. The pressure on his chest was indeed real, as he struggled to catch his breath. Then a brief moment of calm - the shouting stopped and he could hear his brother's voice again. He couldn't distinguish the words. Quieter and lower now, he thought he could make out someone sobbing. He struggled to move but his chest was still trapped in the vice. He moved his fingers, flexing them, to check they still worked, then his toes. Finally he dared to open his eyes, still fearful of what he might see.

I'm not dead.

He felt a surge of relief and tears started welling in his eyes. He had been spared. He felt a rush of strength to his limbs and he pushed hard trying to turn on his side. At last he managed to move, gathering enough strength to dislodge what he now realised was a body from his chest. Jimmy's body.

He eventually managed to pull himself on to his hands and knees and dared to lift his head and survey the carnage. He knew his brother was alive... he'd heard him talking... heard him crying. But was Davey hurt? What about Hutch? He knew he had heard several bullets fire.

He saw two bodies lying on the lounge floor within a few feet of each other. Neither was his brother. One was Jimmy who he had managed to push off him. The other body was Hutch with his brother sitting beside him. It wasn't hard to see that the body was that of Hutch, with the shining blond hair standing out like a beacon. Hutch was either dead or unconscious and Nick hoped for his own sake that it was the latter. Nick saw the gory, bloody carnage the bullets had obviously left in their wake. His brother sat obviously in a state of shock, holding Hutch's limp and unresponsive hand tightly within his own. Nick was suddenly brought back to reality with a jolt when Starsky's angry eyes met his own and his brother shouted out:

"Call a fucking ambulance Nick... now!"

Starsky felt nothing for his own flesh and blood now. The few remaining good thoughts he had tried so hard to cling to of his brother had now evaporated during the short course of the last ten minutes. It was too much for him to comprehend. The brother who he had tried to defend and give the benefit of the doubt to had let him down and let him down hard... but for the last time. There would be no more chances now. It was over. His relationship with his brother was finished in his eyes. His only thoughts now were for his slain partner who lay bleeding to death beside him. How he wished now that he hadn't behaved like a fool, trying to defend his weak, uncaring and thoughtless brother. Hutch had always been more important in his life, but why had he not seen that?

"Hutch... Hutch... open your eyes for me, just give me a sign partner. S'all I need, come on... you ain't gonna die Hutch."

He sobbed uncontrollably now terrified of losing his partner. His emotions had been running so high and he had never felt more vulnerable in his life.

There was no response from Hutch, just a slight flicker of closed pale eyelids. How Starsky needed to see Hutch's eyes... maybe for the last time, he thought morbidly. Shit, he was so damn scared. More scared than he had been in a long time. He knew the damage a bullet could do at such close range. They had come so far after Gunther. Their bond closer than ever before. Why the fuck did Nick have to turn up, wreaking havoc? Why did I act like a spoilt brat when Hutch busted his damn ass trying to help me?

"You've gotta hear me out Hutch. I need to say I'm... I'm sorry. Stuffed up big time partner." His voice faltered, his throat constricted and his Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled with the words.

Nick stumbled toward the couch and fell into it, confused, dazed and still in a state of shock. He heard his brother talking quietly to Hutch but he was unable to determine the words.

Starsky looked away from Hutch wondering if Nick had called an ambulance and stared aghast as he saw him, seated on the couch, eyes closed, hand rubbing across his forehead.

"NICK!"

Nick opened his eyes and could see the urgency in his brother's eyes. He struggled to get up.

"You're not hurt are you? Call an ambulance... DO IT... NOW!"

"Yeah, yeah okay... I'm doin' it."

Always cared more for that wonder boy than me.

Nick stumbled across the room to the telephone and dialed 911. As he relayed the apartment address and details of what service was required the enormity of what had just happened took hold.

I can't let the cops find me here, I'll get sent down. Gotta get out. Out...

As he hung up the receiver, his train of thought was interrupted by his brother barking more orders.

"GET A TOWEL FROM THE BATHROOM, I need to stop this bleeding." Starsky knew Nick would be quicker than if he were to struggle to the bathroom in his current state. He turned his attention back to focus on Hutch. He hadn't let go of his grip on Hutch's hand, gripping it and caressing it softly and tenderly. He needed to show he was still there for him unsure what conscious thoughts Hutch had right now... if any. Now he knew the ambulance was on its way, he took time to draw breath and get his thoughts in order. He knew that timing was critical with the sort of wound Hutch had sustained. He had to do everything in his power to keep Hutch alive and try and halt the blood flow. He didn't know how much damage the bullet had done, but there was a copious amount of bright red blood still pumping out of Hutch's gut at a rate that scared the crap out of him.

"WHERE'S THAT FUCKIN' TOWEL NICK?"

And then quietly:

"I can't handle this"

The loudness of Starsky's last few sentences seemed to stir Hutch and brought a low moan from his lips.

"Hutch... ya with me?"

Starsky gripped Hutch's hand a little tighter and took his free hand to stroke gently across Hutch's forehead, which felt damp and clammy against his warm hand. Shock... he's going into shock... he's too cold. Gotta stop this bleeding.

Hutch seemed to stir again. Starsky eyed the afghan blanket on the floor by the couch where it must have fell and gratefully leaned over and reeled it in. He laid it across Hutch.

"C... cold... so cold."

At least he's hangin' in there. Keep it up boy.

"Shhh, s'okay, sorry for shoutin' buddy. This blanket'll help."

Calm... calm... stay cool... it'll be okay.

Hutch continued to moan a little louder and then as more consciousness returned he turned his head from side to side trying in some futile way to escape the relentless pain that felt as if it was tearing him in two.

"Help's on its way, just keep holdin' my hand buddy... you're okay."

You've gotta be okay.

Starsky's gaze rose momentarily from Hutch only to catch sight of the back of Nick as he headed out the door of the apartment. Starsky was incredulous... Nick had abandoned them both in order to save his own hide.

How could I expect any more from you, you little SHIT! We may be blood but we are as different as two people can be. We have NOTHING in common other than we share the same last name.

Starsky knew it was solely up to him now, and only him to get Hutch through this and keep him alive until the medics arrived. This final act of Nick's was the last straw as far as Starsky was concerned. He didn't care if he never set eyes on his brother again. His real 'brother' lay on the floor with his guts hanging out. This 'brother' was the only one that mattered to him... now and forever. But was it too late to tell him, he wondered?

Starsky looked across at the prone body of the crook to ensure there was still no sign of life and was pleased to see, there wasn't. He didn't know if the crack over the head he'd given him had killed him or not but it was really the least of his concerns. He didn't even want to think of handling Jimmy on his own if he wasn't dead and were to regain consciousness. Hutch continued to moan, muttering jumbled words interspersed with grunts of pain.

"Hur... hurts... oh Christ, make it... stop." Hutch struggled to open his eyes long enough to focus on Starsky's face, the face of his only hope, but his vision was cloudy and he found it extremely hard to focus. But he knew it was Starsky and could feel his touch, sense his presence, smell his aftershave. He knew if he was going to get out of this mess in one piece, Starsky was his man. He had trusted him with his life before now and would do so again. Though his vision continued to swim, Starsky's voice was strong and clear. They say hearing is the last sense to go, he thought.

Talk to me Starsk... talk to me. I can hear you.

As if Starsky had heard the unspoken plea he responded.

"It's okay... s'okay babe." He kept repeating the words knowing the importance of Hutch hearing a reassuring voice. He brushed a blond lock of hair gently from Hutch's forehead, the skin now icy cold beneath his fingers, the skin a ghostly white.

Gotta get something to stem this bleeding. Where's the fucking ambulance?

"Hutch... I'll be right back. Gotta get something... 'kay?"

"N...n...don't go...need..."

"Wadda ya need babe?" Starsky continued holding Hutch's hand as he struggled to his knees and then pulled himself up, silently cursing the pain that screamed at him. Hutch was gripping Starsky's hand discernibly harder now; panicking his partner would leave him.

"Hutch... I'll be right back babe... promise... just gotta get a towel. Just gimme half a minute okay?"

"Mmm..." Hutch let go of Starsky's hand.

Starsky managed to get himself across to the bathroom where he yanked a couple of towels from their hooks behind the door. He struggled back to Hutch, working and functioning on pure adrenaline.

Hutch was beginning to toss and turn on the floor, like some kind of wounded animal desperate to escape the unbearable pain. His consciousness was coming and going it seemed as Starsky took his place once again at Hutch's side. Hutch moved his hands down to his stomach or what remained of it, wanting to take some of the hurt away. His eyes were fighting to stay open as his vision began to lose more and more focus. He felt his own blood, slick and sticky between his fingers as it leaked ominously and silently from his body. Though he was only semi-conscious he was in enough pain to know he was in serious trouble. God knows he'd been shot before. A kid who was not averse to using a gun without thought for the consequences had hit him in the shoulder, mere inches from his heart. He'd had to have surgery for it... luck had been on his side. But this time?

He had also borne witness to his partner being shot in front of his own eyes. Took two bullets at an Italian restaurant. Hutch had helped keep him warm and out of danger until help arrived. Could Starsky do the same for him now?

Starsky bundled one of the bulky crisp white towels into a wad. As he pressed the coarse material against the wound, Hutch reeled from the pain, that the slight touch caused.

"Aaahhh... hu...hurts" Hutch hissed through clenched teeth and mustered the strength from somewhere to push the hands away that were unintentionally causing him more hurt. Then his hand groped wildly for something to hold on to, something to grip and help steady the waves of pain that were trying to drown him.

"Uuuhhhh... no"

Starsky grabbed the wandering hand and held on tight, Hutch's blood thick and sticky over both their hands now.

"I know it hurts but I gotta try and stop the bleedin' Hutch. Hold on to me... you're gonna be alright, you're gonna be okay. Ambulance is on its way."

Hutch quietened for a moment and held on to the familiar comfort and security that Starsky's hand offered.

With his free hand Starsky tried again to apply pressure with the towel to Hutch's stomach. It was a somewhat futile effort as it didn't take an expert to see that a few towels weren't gonna cut it. There was too much blood and it flowed too quickly. From what Starsky could see without prodding and poking around, the bullet had done extensive damage. Some of Hutch's internal organs were clearly visible and the bright red blood was literally pumping out of the crater sized wound.

Why did you have to carry such a high calibre weapon Jimmy?

Every time Starsky tried to reposition the towel or apply more pressure, Hutch would cry out from the pain. It was a no win situation.

Where the hell is that ambulance?

Hutch's body began to tremble as the shock now began to consume him. Starsky was frightened but knew the importance of remaining calm.

"You can't leave me now Hutch, not after Gunther and all we've been through. Listen to me... you're gonna make it... Hutch... You hearin' me?"

As he spoke calmly and softly he tightened his one handed grip on Hutch's hand. Speaking the words aloud helped him to remain positive for his own benefit and maybe could make a difference to Hutch pulling through. He could see the blond was still conscious but was fading fast. As he faced the very real possibility of watching his partner bleed to death he knew there were things he had to say.

"Hutch... still with me?"

"Mmm." Hutch's eyes flickered as he tried to look at Starsky but his vision was blurred and his eyelids felt heavy. The room was spinning and nothing he tried to focus on, remained still. He could feel what he assumed was blood rising to his throat, threatening to choke and suffocate him but he resisted the urge to cough. He'd seen many die in his years as a cop and knew that many died from drowning in their own blood rather than the injury they had sustained.

"Why did you have to go and do a stupid thing like tryin' to protect my dumb ass 'lil brother huh?" Starsky fought to hold back the sob that threatened to escape his lips.

"Don't..."

He couldn't get the words out. It was near impossible for him to talk now as he struggled to keep the pain far from the reaches of his mind, only it was proving to be too hard a battle to fight. But he concentrated harder and wrestled with his tongue and lips to form the words. He could only guess how Starsky must be feeling and how frightened he would be right now.

"He's... your... brother."

"Yeah, but..."

"Know... what he means... to... you."

Hutch fought with his uncooperative mouth, unable to complete a sentence. He coughed and instantly regretted the action, the pain in his gut intense and burning. His face took on the mask of pain as his brows furrowed and he inhaled sharply between pursed lips.

Starsky knew things were looking bad and prayed a silent prayer for the paramedics to hurry up. He didn't know how bad it was and whether his partner would make it out of this one, alive. They had been through too much together especially after Gunther for Hutch's life to be taken away now. He thought back to the words he had spoken to Hutch, the words that seemed to come from nowhere with such low regard for Hutch's feelings. He had never meant to be so cutting and hurtful.

Maybe it was the drugs? the depression?

But he had said things he shouldn't have none the less. He knew now, he had been wrong, very wrong. He had misjudged the depth of Hutch's feelings.

Why is it so damn hard to express my own feelings?

He knew the answer of course. He hadn't wanted to lose face in front of his brother, hadn't wanted to appear weak or emotional. Didn't want to be embarrassed. Wanted to play the 'hard man', the macho older brother and not be true to his emotions. A big act and one he now regretted deeply. Never again he promised himself silently would he allow his depth of feeling for Hutch to be hidden. God only knows, he knew himself after surviving an attempted assassination, that life was too damn short.

"You son of a bitch, Hutchinson, that's gotta be the stupidest thing you've ever done... saving Nick's hide."

He ain't worth it... I know that now.

Starsky continued to apply pressure to the gaping hole in Hutch's stomach, but the blood kept coming. Flowing on a rapid course through his fingers. A stream of sticky, shiny, redness, pooling around Hutch's body on the carpet. Starsky didn't dare move now for fear of Hutch bleeding even further. He repositioned his legs to ease the cramping, a result of being on the floor too long, in a position he was not used to. He had to force his eyes to close in an effort to halt the tears that kept blinding his vision. But the feeling was too strong and all encompassing. He saw Hutch's eyes were now closed but the grip was still strong. He could no longer stop his emotions rising to the surface and silently let more tears fall freely down his pale cheeks as they left their silvery, glistening trails. He struggled to speak with a level and calm voice, the tears unwitnessed by the blond whose eyes now remained closed.

"Thanks buddy." Was all he could say before his body was racked with uncontrollable emotion and his whole body shook with grief.

Hutch squeezed Starsky's hand once wanting to console him.

"S...seemed... like a good idea... to use... your... words." He struggled.

Starsky smiled at the words and witnessed a slight turning up of his partner's mouth into the most Hutch was able to muster of a smile.

Starsky cast his mind back to when he had indeed spoken those same words that would come to mean so much, high on a rooftop taking what he thought would be his own last breaths after being injected with a deadly poison. Hutch had been there in the race against time trying to find the antidote. Hutch refused to surrender even as Starsky was wheeled into intensive care; expected to die. Hutch kept on, relentless and determined, like a dog with a bone. But it had paid off... he got his man and Starsky lived to fight another day... all thanks to Hutch. Now Starsky could repay the favour... he hoped.

Hutch felt as if half of his gut was hanging out and it probably was. He had no way of knowing if any major organs had been hit or damaged. The pain was excruciating. Far worse than when he had taken that bullet in his shoulder. His mind began to wander and pictures played in his mind, swimming in and out like a faulty television.

His father: "Getta grip boy, can't be that bad."

His mother: "Oh Ken, why did you have to be a policeman. You know we wanted you to be a doctor?"

Huggy: "Don't quit yet 'White Knight', Curly can't function without ya and you know it".

Dobey: "Trust you to get involved in 'extra curricular' activities Hutchinson... You better not leave Starsky... I couldn't deal with a Starsky without a Hutch."

The blackness now threatened to engulf his vision for good. But then Starsky was the last vision that swam into the home movie that screened in his head, behind blue eyes.

Starsky: "I need ya babe, can't do it without ya. Don't leave me Hutch... don't..." Only his partner's voice seemed clearer than the others and more real. Maybe it was.

Hutch fought one last time to open his eyes and tried desperately to focus possibly for the last time on his partner's pale face. He could see the fear and feel it. Everything was fuzzy around the edges, like an out of focus photograph. The room began to melt as he tried to keep awake, listening to the comforting voice of his best friend.

"Don't leave me Hutch... don't..."

Suddenly Starsky felt what he hadn't wanted to. Hutch's hand went limp and slack within his own.

"Hutch... Hutch? Don't do this to me Hutch... you're not leaving me now babe."

He called Hutch's name again and again, in the meantime feeling for a pulse. Thank God, it was there, albeit fast and thready. Yes, Hutch was still hanging on; he didn't go down that easy. He could understand why Hutch's brain had slipped back into the pain free world of oblivion and was grateful for it. Then he heard the most beautiful sound in the world. The siren of the ambulance as it pulled to a halt outside the apartment.

At least Nick did get something right. He thought bitterly.

As he heard the men's footsteps getting closer he yelled to them to come in the already opened door that Nick hadn't bother to close in his haste.

There were two men, dressed in their neat and clean, blood-free uniforms, each holding a drug box with the bare essentials to patch people up and get them to the hospital. As they rushed to their prospective patient, the questions started coming fast. Starsky shuffled his butt out of the way and then pulled himself up with a certain degree of difficulty to the armchair to let the experts work. The men witnessed the dark haired man's difficulty in moving and saw the discarded crutch. They introduced themselves as Greg and Bob.

"You okay Sir?" The medic called Greg looked with concern and sympathy at Starsky, taking his gaze away from the task in hand for just a moment.

Starsky ran the heel of his hand across his eyes, rubbing the salty, dampness away as he tried to take stock of the situation and catch his breath.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Just help my partner... please... he was... shot."

As Bob worked on checking Hutch's vitals, Greg examined the bleeding wound with great care and continued to address Starsky.

"What's his name?" Greg asked of Starsky.

"Hutch... call him Hutch."

"Who shot him?"

"Some two bit punk, long gone."

Called Nick Starsky... my brother.

"Called the cops?"

"We are the cops."

"You're police officer's?"

"Detectives' actually... don't worry you're not in any danger now. Jimmy over there's out to it for a while yet."

"I'll still need to get a team in to treat him."

"No!... call them when we're in the ambulance and the cops too. Hutch is the number one priority right now. "

Greg merely nodded.

"Hutch... Hutch? Can you hear me?" Bob spoke loudly trying to elicit a response while rubbing hard at Hutch's sternum to see if Hutch could be roused.

No response but Bob kept talking to him, a gesture that Starsky appreciated as he observed their ministrations.

"Hutch, we're paramedics, we're gonna help you, everything'll be just fine."

Starsky winced at the calming, standard line he knew medics said to all their patient's, unsure who would make it and who would die. The medic began to loosen Hutch's right shirtsleeve and then followed by undoing the buttons on Hutch's casual shirt. The chambray shirt with the guitar embroidered on the back that he loved so much, Starsky thought.

"Uh... don't give him morphine... he 's allergic."

Bob nodded and an IV was inserted and some sort of drip started, presumably for rehydration and pain relief Starsky assumed. Bob began to take all the necessary pulse rate, blood pressure and heart rate statistics.

"Greg, get the stretcher over here. We're gonna have to get him outta here fast. Just gotta stabilise him a bit more."

"Obs?"

"BP's way down, too low... 60 over 45, pulse is 60, irregular and weak, respiration's are slow and shallow, about 20 and extremely laboured, his pupils are equal, but very sluggish His temperature is 104, he's shocky and extremely diaphoretic... difficulty breathing. He's shutting down, and bleedin' out too fast for us to stop it here. I think his liver may have been hit, with the amount of blood that's here."

Starsky listened intently, stunned at the events unfolding. He had wished for some ray of hope, however small but nothing for him to cling to was forth coming. He was however grateful for small mercies with the fact that Hutch remained unconscious and therefore oblivious to all the goings on around him.

Bob had the stethoscope and was now listening to Hutch's heart pattern again, listening for the slightest change. Greg bustled over with the stretcher and started preparing the sheets and blankets on it.

"Heart rates dropping, he's going into RF, get me a tube. Gonna have to intubate him."

Starsky watched transfixed as Bob tilted Hutch's head back and forced a cylindrical, hard looking, metal piece of equipment in his mouth and then pushed it with great skill down his throat.

Hutch offered no resistance.

Oh God, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT. Come on Hutch, you gotta hang on.

Hutch's body remained slack the entire time and not a muscle moved or twitched at the invasion. Then a breather bag was attached and Bob pumped it rhythmically to allow extra oxygen into the airway, which was flooded with blood.

Greg who was witnessing the procedure could see the shock beginning to register on the seated observer. He attempted to distract him from the reality and tried to engage him in some dialogue hoping Starsky's eyes would be drawn away from the difficult sight.

"You said he's your partner?"

Starsky's gaze flicked across to the medic.

"Yeah, he's my partner"

And my brother.

"Look... Greg is it... level with me, how's he doin'?"

Greg didn't reply, instead he looked across at his own partner who was more experienced for the answer to the impossible question.

Starsky could see the reluctance of Greg to give it to him straight, picking up on the eye contact the two had. Bob, who Starsky took to be the more experienced of the two due to his age and the fact he had done the medical procedures answered.

"I'll be honest with ya, seeing as you're a cop and all... doesn't look great Detective."

No, no, I don't wanna hear it.

But Bob continued.

"His pupils are dilated, he's still bleedin' out way too fast, probably due to his liver taking the brunt of the bullet but it's too hard to tell for sure. BP's too low due to the blood loss. He's gonna need several pints of blood put back in and..."

As he spoke he was packing up his medical box while with a nod of the head to Greg alerted him to get the stretcher in position. Bob stopped his diatribe when he saw the anguish in Starsky's eyes and the slump in his body language.

Don't say any more, don't say it. Starsky silently screamed but there was more as Bob resumed:

"And now as you see he's gone into respiratory failure. He's just hanging' on and hopefully he'll make it to the hospital but I'm not sure if he'll even make it that far. He's gonna need surgery real soon. He's stable for now, but we've gotta move him out RIGHT NOW." He emphasised the last two words to signal to Greg to help him get Hutch on the stretcher.

Starsky wanted to help them lift Hutch up but knew he was better to leave them to it. He silently watched as they lifted Hutch, one holding him under the arms, the other holding his feet and carefully positioned him on to the stretcher. Then they checked the tubes and IV's were securely in place and covered his bleeding body with a regulation ambulance blanket. After strapping him down, they carried him to the stairs and began the awkward descent with their patient.

Starsky swung into action, determined to ride in the ambulance with Hutch, but what about the unconscious Jimmy there in his apartment? He wasn't about to risk him regaining consciousness and doing a runner. He had a brainwave and as quickly as his legs would allow he went to the bedroom and took his police issue handcuffs out of his desk drawer. As he heard the men struggling to the bottom of the stairs he shouted out to them:

"I'M COMING WITH HIM!"

There was no reply as he made his way to the prone body of Jimmy and swiftly cuffed his wrist to the leg of his solid wooden dining table.

"That should hold ya sucker, until the cops come, if you don't die first, you useless piece of shit!"

Starsky knew the man couldn't hear his venomous words but damn it sure made him feel good to say them aloud. He loathingly grabbed his crutch off the floor as he headed toward the door not knowing when he might need it. He knew he was in for a long wait whatever the outcome. He was grateful that his mind was feeling more focused now that the last remnants of the sleeping pills were wearing off. His focus was solely on Hutch and being there for him. He shut the apartment door behind him leaving it unlocked for when the uniform's arrived. They would know it was his apartment soon enough and Dobey would be on his back in a flash.

Starsky's timely arrival at the ambulance doors meant he could position himself on the small built in seat as Hutch was lifted in. Bob rode with his patient in the back and as Greg drove, lights flashing, sirens waling, Starsky asked him to radio Dobey to sort out the mess that lay in his apartment.

Bob kept a vigil on Hutch's stats. When he finished his latest round of listening with his stethoscope, feeling Hutch's pulse and checking blood pressure, Starsky asked how his partner was doing.

"Holding on... holding on. I think I should warn you though, he may not pull through this."

Starsky chewed on his lower lip as he felt the tears threatening again. He clasped his hands together and looked to Bob.

"He has to... he has too."

Bob merely nodded and went back to his vigil of his still unconscious patient.

Starsky wasn't a particularly religious man, despite his Jewish upbringing, though his Mother would hate to hear it said. When he had been sent away to California without his mother's assertive presence around he rarely went to the synagogue except for the compulsory weddings' and funerals'. But now he did all he knew he could do, to keep his soul mate alive. He prayed. He prayed silently to his God to spare Hutch's life. There were too many years left to take him now. It was too soon. It wasn't just. No, he couldn't go. He silently spoke the Hebrew words in his head that had been drummed into his head as a youngster.

I've too much to tell you Hutch... and I will... about Steve... about Nick... about recovery after Gunther.

Minutes later thanks to the sirens speeding their journey through the dense traffic, they arrived at Memorial Hospital, a hospital they had both had occasion to spend time in before today. Starsky remained seated as Greg ran around to assist Bob in off loading Hutch to the doctor and his team who were standing by awaiting their arrival. Starsky felt sapped of all energy, the stress of the events catching up with him. He was left alone to get himself out of the ambulance and follow the frantic trail of nurses running alongside the gurney being wheeled through to the emergency department. He managed to get down the precarious steps of the ambulance and was grateful he had brought his crutch along as he now relied on it to get his way along what seemed like miles of never ending corridors. He cursed the fact he couldn't keep up with the gurney holding Hutch that was being pushed with great speed toward the emergency room. Finally he reached the closed doors of the emergency room where he last caught sight of Hutch being wheeled. He went to the nurse stationed at the desk.

"My... my partner... Kenneth Hutchinson... please I need to..."

"Sir, let me get you a seat before you fall down." The nurse was very concerned at the man's appearance and even from behind her desk could see he was in no fit state himself. She quickly left her post and pulled over a chair for the handsome, swarthy man, concerned he would fall down if he didn't sit down and she couldn't risk that... not on her shift.

Starsky took the seat gratefully and looked up to see her name... Erin pinned on her uniform.

"Please... Erin, I need to know about my friend, my partner who was brought in here a few minutes ago. Detective Kenneth Hutchinson. He was... shot and I... don't know if he's gonna make it."

Erin put a comforting hand on Starsky's shoulder and then went to fetch Starsky a paper cup of water from the machine. As Starsky gratefully drunk the cooling liquid she said:

"I saw him just go, let me check for you okay... I'll be right back."

"Thank you."

He watched as she entered the inner sanctum of the emergency room, wanting to burst through the doors himself and quell the adrenaline that was pumping its way around his body.

It seemed like an eternity as he thought of his last vision of his partner, unconscious, wires and tape holding in IV's, gadgets invading his body and the blood soaked clothes.

About five minutes later he was suddenly startled by the swish of the automatic doors as they opened to reveal Erin in her immaculate crisp white and blue uniform. He looked up trying to gauge the look on her face, a clue, any hint as to how Hutch was.

"Erin?"

She pulled up a chair and sat alongside him, seeing his obvious stress and anxiety worn on his facial features.

"What is it? How is he?"

"Hey, hey, you haven't even told me your name."

"Dave... sorry." Starsky smiled just a little.

"You've got to stay strong for him Dave, looks like he'll be going into surgery in the next half hour as soon as his vitals are stable. You'll have to wait a while longer to see the outcome."

"He is... gonna be okay though isn't he?"

"Well from what I could gather the bullet mainly damaged his liver which is why he lost so much blood and so rapidly. They're going to try and stop the bleeding and he's going to need a lot of blood pumped back into him. The heavy bleed is what causes the blood pressure to drop so low and that is the real concern."

"He won't die though will he... he's got to be all right... there's things I need to tell him?"

"Hey, one step at a time Dave."

"But what if they can't stop the bleeding? What if his blood pressure stays too low?"

Erin looked at the man knowing genuine care and compassion when she saw it. Could he handle the honest truth in his current state? She decided it was better to be honest with him and warn him of the seriousness of his friend's injury. She pulled up another hard plastic orange chair and sat beside him. This perturbed Starsky, knowing she that was getting ready to tell him how things really stood.

"I think you should be prepared Dave that there is a high chance your friend won't make it. By the time he went into surgery he'd lost a lot of blood... too much. Doctor Lawrence was still trying to contain the outflow as they were transfusing him with new blood. From what he told me it doesn't look good, but you must have hope Dave. I promise you he's in excellent hands. Doctor Lawrence is one of our finest surgeons, he'll do his best for your friend I'm sure."

Starsky was totally struck dumb by the news. He couldn't speak, couldn't even thank her for finding out the news he hadn't wanted to hear. He sat in silence with his head hung down, pressing his palms hard on to his thighs as Erin walked back to the emergency department, leaving him to absorb what she had just said. It was a part of the job she hated... being the bearer of bad news but she had learned over her many years in the profession that people preferred honesty to false hope.

As Starsky sat waiting for the next snippet of news his thoughts were running wild.

You've got to make it Hutch, hell you've been shot before partner! I really can't get through without you Hutch, not after what Gunther did. Get your tail in here and tell me what an idiot I've been. I need ya buddy... please.

He waited and waited as he watched the clock on the wall. Its hands ticked by the minutes and the hours and still no more news. He had called Dobey and got him up to date with what had gone down. He knew there would have to be a warrant put out for Nick's arrest, but it was the least of his worries. A stint in jail would do him good. He hoped they would find him and bring him in. Dobey asked if Starsky was all right and offered to contact Huggy to come and wait with him but Starsky refused, preferring instead to sit and wait alone.

After three hours, a tired looking doctor still with his surgery gear on came through the double doors.

"Is there a David here?" he cast his eyes among the dozen or so faces in the waiting room.

Starsky looked over to the doctor and rose stiffly from his seat.

"Yeah, yeah I'm David, David Starsky."

"Ah, Mr Starsky, I'm Doctor Lawrence... please sit down. Erin was kind enough to fill me in on your name and your relationship with Ken." The doctor motioned with his hand back to the chair.

Starsky plonked himself back down, too tired to debate the fact of sitting versus standing, just desperately trying to read the doctor's face for any signs. The doctor sat down along side him and the two turned to each other to engage in the conversation to follow.

"You're police officer's I understand?"

Just tell me, tell me. Starsky's thoughts were swirling around uncontrollably.

"Uh... detective's actually."

"Oh I apologise... well you'll be pleased to know Ken has come through the surgery and is being taken up to intensive care right now."

Starsky let out a large breath of relief.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

The doctor smiled at the million-dollar question he was asked after every surgery by anxious friends and relations and the question that he always found hardest to answer.

"Well, Mr Starsky-"

"Dave, just call me Dave."

"Okay... Dave... Ken came through the surgery better than expected... but..."

Why does there always have to be a 'but'?

Starsky squirmed in his seat.

"...His injury is severe."

"He's gonna make it though isn't he... he'll be all right?"

Starsky spoke the words partly to reassure in himself that Hutch had to be okay.

"I'm sorry, but right now Dave, there isn't any way that I can guarantee he will survive. The next 24 hours are crucial for him"

"But... but he has to."

Oh how selfish you sound.

"I can't say if he will or won't pull through, a lot rests in Ken's hands right now. I have done as much as I can for him, and now it's up to him to want to fight and he'll have to fight hard. That is the best we can ever hope for as doctors'. We have repaired the damage and put his insides back together and now he must want to live and survive this."

Will he... will he want to come back?

"Wha...what did you have to do for him?"

I don't wanna know but I have to so I can kill that sucker myself if you dare leave me Hutch.

"The damage to his body and the blood loss was extensive. The bullet was obviously fired from close range and was from a powerful, high calibre gun."

Why couldn't fists have been used instead of damned guns? Starsky thought.

"Two ribs were broken due to the bullet hitting them and then what has caused us the greatest concern as you can appreciate was the amount of blood loss in such a short space of time. We had to give him five transfusions just to keep him going through the surgery. He may yet have to receive a few more units."

Starsky nodded silently.

"What happens Dave when a person loses so much blood, their blood pressure drops right down and that is the danger zone. This was what we had to fight the hardest; getting his blood pressure stabilised. If it had dropped much further his body would have just given out. Thankfully we were able to get it stabilised once the blood started going back in but I must tell you it was touch and go."

"The blood... why... was there so..." Starsky found it hard to even get the words out, recalling the sight of all of Hutch's life force seeping out of him in a pool on the carpet. The vivid red leaking out of Hutch's body at a frightening rate.

The doctor predicted the question.

"So much?"

"Yes"

"The bullet hit the ribcage first, breaking the two ribs I mentioned and then the resulting fragments of shattered bone impacted on his liver, tearing it and causing the large loss of blood that you would have witnessed. The liver tends to bleed rapidly and profusely. He was lucky the bullet didn't actually hit his liver as in those situations, the patient rarely makes it. We stitched up his liver and got the bleeding controlled and removed the bullet."

"Can I see him Doc?"

"I don't see why not, but he is unconscious of course and still on the respirator for an added precaution. We don't want to put undue pressure on his body right now. He needs to recover from the surgery and the shock his body has suffered. The incision we had to make to repair his liver was very large. We also had to wire parts of his ribs as ordinary strapping would not have worked in his case. He will be in a great deal of pain for a few days but we will see he has good meds for that... I believe he is allergic to morphine?"

"Uh... yes... yes he is Doc."

"Yes, well I've prescribed another form of medication that has similar properties to morphine but does as good a job. Dave, the next few days are critical and I warn you, we don't know which way it's gonna swing, but if Ken can make it through the next 24 hours without any complications, then he has a good chance of recovery. But we need him to wake up as soon as the anaesthetic wears off, so we will be monitoring his medication very carefully as we need him to regain consciousness as soon as his body is able."

The doctor could see Starsky's unease and concern but had been duty bound to give him the full picture.

"I thought his body needed rest and he'd sleep for a long time now... what with the length of time in surgery and everything?"

"That's right, three hours of surgery does tend to take it out on people." he smiled.

My God, was it three hours? Three hours under the surgeon's knife trying to repair all the damage.

"Thing is we need him to wake up sooner than later because the longer he's out, the less chance there is of him regaining consciousness at all Dave."

The doctor could see the anguish in Starsky's face as he tried to digest this last statement.

"I... I see." Starsky whispered.

"Pray for him Dave and he just may come through but as I said it's up to Ken now. There's no more we can do but watch and wait."

Starsky offered his hand to shake the doctor that had just saved his best friend's life... but for how long?

"Thank you Doctor Lawrence, for everything. I know he's gonna make it... I know Hutch'll pull through this because I know how strong he is doctor."

As Doctor Lawrence let go of Starsky's hand and rose to go. His parting words were:

"I hope you're right Dave... I hope you're right."

Now Starsky had to see Hutch. If he could see him and talk to him, he knew things could be okay again. He used his crutch to lift himself wearily from the chair he had become so well acquainted with and walked past Erin on his way to the elevator.

"Thanks Erin... he'll be okay... I know it."

"Good luck David."

I sure hope you're right honey, he seems such a sweet guy.

When Starsky entered the brightly-lit room he had been directed to with all its machines whooshing and pumping and monitors flashing, he imagined this is what Hutch must have experienced when Starsky had been here. He couldn't help but feel the chill running up his spine.

A nurse was in the room with her clipboard recording the latest machine readings. She looked up when she heard someone enter the room.

"Are you here for Mr Hutchinson?" checking the man had the right room.

Starsky had just caught sight of Hutch's face. He coughed nervously before answering her quietly.

"Uh yes, I am."

"Are you a relative?"

"I'm his partner, we're detectives with Bay City Police." He spoke quickly and with authority now, not wanting her to send him on his way because he wasn't family.

"I'm sorry Sir but only immediate family are allowed in." She said as she gestured him out of the room.

"No... you don't understand... please. " he implored. He instinctively reached for his police badge and before realising it had been long gone from its usual place in his back hip pocket.

"Look, call Captain Harold Dobey at Bay City Police central and he'll confirm. I'm Detective David Starsky."

At least I was.

Whether she saw the hurt in his eyes, the fact that he looked like he might collapse any moment, or she was about to place a call to a Captain Dobey, she wavered and then changed her stance.

"All right, looks like you need a seat anyway." She smiled before adding:

"But I will be checking with your superior."

Good at least I'll save calling him myself and letting him know the latest.

Ordinarily Starsky would have pushed his authority further and debated the point that he was as close a family as Hutch had, but he was too exhausted and she was right... he did need to sit down. As she left the room, he pulled up a chair beside Hutch's bed and sank heavily in to it. He laid his crutch down carefully and silently not wanting to disturb the sleeping form. He reached softly, quietly, gently, under the white sheet for Hutch's hand. When he felt it, he took it within his own and held it tightly. All traces of blood had been washed away from Hutch's hand as he examined it within his own. He relaised what a mess he looked himself, he still had blood... Hutch's blood on much of his shirt front and traces on his jeans. Though he had made it to the men's room while waiting for Hutch to come out of surgery, he had only done a very cursory job.

His eyes now took in the grey pallor, the lack of colour to Hutch's flesh. He took in all the tubes that sprouted forth from Hutch's body, and saw the bag of bright shiny blood hung on the hook, rhythmically pumping its way into his body. There was the plastic nasal tubes stuck undignified into his nostrils and the large invasive metal tube he had observed the medics put in at his apartment remained unceremoniously inserted down Hutch's throat, willing his lungs to keep functioning, presumably to reduce the stress his entire body was facing. It was hard to even see Hutch's closed eyes amidst the tubes, wires and plasters that secured them in place.

"Oh, God Hutch, I've been such a fool. I need you babe... please... please open those blue eyes for me. Doc says you've gotta wake up real soon, I know you might not want to see my ugly mug again right now, 'specially way I've been lately... but I need you Hutch."

But there was not even a flicker of movement. Hutch remained motionless and the only sound to be heard was that of the machines that were vital to Hutch' survival. Starsky continued rubbing his thumb over and over in a soothing motion across the back of Hutch's hand, not daring to let go. Eventually sleep claimed him and his eyes closed welcoming the darkness.

Their hands were still entwined when the duty nurse from the next shift came in the next morning. The noise of her soft-soled shoes on the shiny polished linoleum woke the dark haired man from his fitful slumber. As he struggled to stretch out his stiff limbs and aching back he saw the clock on the wall and realised how long he had been asleep. He was also shocked to relaise he had slept so long with no need of his usual cocktail of drugs but put it down to the sheer exhaustion his body had been under.

The nurse saw the visitor was now awake as she busied herself taking Hutch's pulse rate and blood pressure, making notes on her crisp chart as she went.

"You look like you need a bed yourself Sir." She attempted to raise a smile.

"No, I'm fine."

"You know you shouldn't really be sleeping in here all this time don't you? You really don't look to well yourself"

He looked sheepishly at the floor.

"Look... I..." before he could defend himself further and stop the debate progressing as to his own health, the nurse interrupted him.

"It's all right, Elizabeth who was on before me reckoned you needed the rest and you're not doing anyone any harm. Your superior... Dobey is it... brought you in a change of clothes. He also filled me in on what you've been through lately and said he doesn't want either of you getting into any more disasters in the near future!"

She pointed to a small overnight bag on the floor by the window.

Good ol' Dobey... he's been to my place too I guess and sorted things out.

"Th...thanks. How's Hut...Ken doing?"

"He's stable right now and may be downgraded from critical to serious when the doctor comes 'round."

"That's great!"

She could see the obvious enthusiasm in his face.

"Yes, it is."

He could see there was a 'but' coming.

"It is... isn't it?"

"Yes it is, better than we had hoped but..."

Here it comes.

"We normally would have expected to see some signs of him waking up by now. Maybe if you could talk to him some more... talk about anything. Often a patient can hear you but just can't respond."

She smiled and then continued on her way with Hutch's notes reattached to the end of his bed.

Starsky stayed all day at Hutch's bedside despite his own agony at trying to get his pain wracked body comfortable in various positions. He would occasionally walk the length of the corridor with his crutch, too nervous to walk without it for fear of slipping on the shiny floors.

Dobey and Huggy soon turned up with supplies of coffee and snacks and much moral encouragement for the two detectives. Dobey said the crook, a man by the name of James or Jimmy Freelander had been taken down to the station for questioning once his blow to the head had been cleared by the doctors. He was a small time drug dealer and bought and sold with all the dealers who lived on the fringe of the big lord's patch.

And what of Nick?

He had yet to be apprehended but Starsky's opinion of his brother had quickly been revised in the course of the last twelve or so hours and he no longer cared what happened to him though for his mother's sake he hoped Nick too would be arrested and sent down for dealing. It would give him the only chance left of breaking old habits and starting a fresh.

Despite Huggy and Dobey's good intentions of relieving Starsky of his bedside vigil, he would have none of it and remained at Hutch's bedside. He did however concede to a shower and changed into the clothes Dobey had brought while the two men stayed with Hutch. Both Dobey and Huggy could see the toll it had taken on Starsky and could only hope that Hutch would wake or give some sort of sign that he would make it so that Starsky could then breathe easy again instead of beating himself up over something he had no control over. They had come so close to losing Starsky and now in a cruel twist of fate, Hutch had been shot and may or may not pull through. Dobey didn't want to lose Hutch knowing it would also mean the loss of Starsky. They were two of the city's finest detectives but more than that... Dobey thought of them at times as a part of his family. He held a lot of respect for them both though would rarely admit to it for fear their heads would swell.

Starsky continued throughout the day talking to Hutch, holding his hand hoping his words would eventually filter through. Later in the afternoon in a moment of sheer exhaustion Starsky's eyes slipped shut for a few moments as he tried to rest his weary head on his shoulder. As he silently gave himself permission to catch some much needed sleep he thought he detected just a small amount of pressure on his hand. He was quickly alert again, checking to see if his mind was playing tricks with him. He didn't dare put too much hope on the feeling he had. He leaned foreward in his chair concentrating more than before on Hutch's eyes which remained closed. Looking for just a flicker, the smallest movement, a signal that Hutch was awakening. Then there it was again a quick squeeze on his hand.

"Hutch?" he whispered softly and then again slightly louder.

"Hutch... it's me Starsk... I'm here for ya babe. You're gonna be okay. Can you hear me?"

This time Hutch's eyes flickered and then the heavy lids raised for just a few seconds. It was a wondrous sight to behold for Starsky. It wasn't much to anyone else maybe but it was a miracle to Starsky. He reached over to the nurse call button and pressed it.

"Hutch can you open your eyes for me again just so I can see those drop dead gorgeous baby blues again?"

This time the eyes remained closed but a small twitch of the mouth was seen. A snippet of a smile perhaps?

A nurse who Starsky wasn't familiar with bustled into the room knowing the patient was too out of it to have pressed the call button.

"Can I help?"

Starsky just beamed like a village idiot at her before he could get the words out.

"He just opened his eyes... he... he squeezed my hand... he's gonna be okay."

The nurse was trained to be more sceptical.

"Let me have a look."

She went to the other side of Hutch's bed and lifted his wrist, feeling for the rhythm of his pulse. Then she raised one of Hutch's eyelids and flicked her penlight torch across his eyes, looking for pupil activity.

"Ken... Ken" she stroked his face looking for a reaction but none came. She then rubbed his sternum which got a grunt of discomfort.

Starsky thought it was the most wonderful grunt of pain he'd ever heard.

"See... see?"

Starsky was like a kid in a toyshop at Christmas.

"Yes indeed, it looks like Ken may be back with us."

Hutch continued to sleep but would let out the occasional moan and his sleep was less peaceful as he would twist and turn with discomfort or bad dreams or both.

The most positive sign that Hutch was on the way to recovery was when the doctors had done their rounds and given the all clear for Hutch to be taken off the respirator.

One of the regular nurses Starsky had come to know entered the room to complete this task. She knew better by now, than to ask Starsky to leave the room.

"Okay Dave, just hold his hand for me. This isn't very pleasant for him but he'll feel a heck of a lot better once it's out."

Starsky nodded and gripped Hutch's hand.

Hutch was still only semi-lucid as he heard the nurse giving him bits of information that seemed to float in and out of his conscious thoughts.

"Ken... I'm gonna take this monstrosity out of your throat now. You can breathe just fine on your own, it'll feel uncomfortable for just a little while okay?"

She didn't wait for any kind of response knowing her patient's mind was still clouded. She held on to the tube and then carefully with exacting precision manoeuvred it up and out as quickly as she could.

Hutch began to cough and thrash around.

"Ken... listen to me... its okay. Tube's out, just try and relax."

Hutch's eyes opened and his eyes darted about until they latched on to his partner. Some how this calmed him and he visibly relaxed when he saw the anxiety etched in Starsky's furrowed brow.

While the nurse busied herself wiping Hutch's lips with a facecloth and then checking his blood pressure, he tried to form his mouth to say the word he so wanted to say.

"S...St...Starsk"

Starsky had tears in his eyes. The sound of his partner's voice was like pure heaven.

"Hey... welcome back partner... it's been a while."

It took another day before Hutch was conscious for long enough to be able to understand what had happened to him. The pain medication was strong and now he knew how Starsky must feel. His mind felt jumbled and it was so damn hard to stay coherent enough to say what he wanted to say. He felt nauseous from the anaesthetic and his gut felt like it was on fire when the latest dose of painkillers would start to wear off and it hurt as he tried re-positioning himself to get comfortable before the next metered dose would be allowed to be administered.

Now that Starsky knew Hutch was out of danger and off the critical list he allowed himself to slip quietly home with the help of Huggy and Dobey to check his apartment and get something to eat. He wasn't sure what state his apartment would be and it was with trepidation that he unlocked the front door. He was relieved however to find upon entering that the fingerprint guys and forensics had been and done there bit and Dobey had organised a major clean up including all the carpets being commercially cleaned. There was nothing to offer a clue as to what had gone on there before. It felt eerie to Starsky though as he found himself subconsciously looking for remains of Hutch's blood on the carpet. Though he found none he wondered whether there were too many bad vibes here now and he came to the conclusion that he would start looking for a new apartment once Hutch was out of the hospital. Maybe he could rent a bigger apartment or maybe one near Hutch's place. They both needed more down time to recuperate further and it would be nice to be closer to each other.

Once Starsky learned Hutch was recovering well but that he would be in the hospital at least two weeks he took up Huggy's offer to move in and help him out. He didn't need as much assistance now but it was nice to have Huggy around and Huggy knew damn well that Hutch would have his hide if he didn't help out their mutual friend. Starsky took the time at nights once he left Hutch sleeping peacefully to talk to Huggy and he found a good listener in his wily, quick-witted friend. One of the first things Starsky did when he found himself alone one evening as Huggy worked, was to flush the full bottle of his sleeping pills down the toilet. He hated the guilt that he still carried for using them inappropriately to ease his depression and he knew the whole time that it was only ever a quick fix solution. He still needed his painkillers but less and less. Huggy had been driving him to his physical therapy appointments and he'd been eating better and putting some fat back on his skeletal frame. He caught sight of himself and thought he was definitely in a lot better place than a few months before.

Dobey informed him several days after Hutch was shot that Nick had been apprehended and arrested boarding a plane back to New York. Starsky was saddened but pleased that his brother was out of danger and off the streets hanging with the wrong group. He had to make the difficult call to their mother to tell her the full story of just what had happened. A lot of talking was done and many tears shed by both Starsky and his Mom. He promised that once he was declared fit for duty again he would take a flight home to visit. He had no intention however of visiting Nick in prison... at least not for a while. He would wait until his anger had subsided and see what sentence Nick would receive. He had put a victim impact statement in and his recommendation that Nick serve a short prison term, as he would only re-offend if released on probation.

The hardest job Starsky had to face was talking to Hutch about Nick and the way he had behaved toward Hutch, putting him down and treating him at times like the hired help that he wasn't.

Hutch was doing well and the doctors' were pleased. His pain medication had been greatly reduced and his wound was healing well. He would have short conversations with Starsky but was always asking how Starsky was doing, what was he eating, how was physical therapy. He had not mentioned Nick and neither had Starsky. Hutch was still very hurt about the words that he and Starsky had exchanged since Starsky's release from the hospital and despite Hutch knowing Starsky was depressed, the words and arguments had hurt him.

After Hutch had been in hospital a week and Hutch was not sleeping so much, Starsky chose his moment to talk to Hutch about the huge burden of guilt he felt. He knew Hutch was much more coherent and lucid for longer periods now and out of the danger zone. And so he began to say the hardest words... words that he knew he had to say.

"Hutch, I've told you about Nick being arrested and now I need to talk some heavy stuff partner and I need you to listen and listen good... will you do that for me?"

"Starsk..."

"Hush and listen"

Hutch nodded knowing what was to come would be difficult for his partner.

"Since I got home from the hospital you've been there for me at every turn, a hundred and ten percent Hutch. I could'na done what I did in the time I did without you there to push me, take me to all my appointments, clean up after me and all 'o that. I was healing but my mind was workin' overtime and I was getting' bitter. Why me? Why now? It was hard Hutch, I aint ever been depressed and I didn't know what was happenin' to me. Christ, I thought I'd end up in Cabrillo State."

"Starsk the doc said it's normal you might get down, you don't have to justify yourself to me."

"But I do Hutch, I treated you like shit a lot of the time and you didn't deserve it. I feel ashamed Hutch"

Starsky's eyes began to moisten and Hutch saw it.

"It'll be okay Starsk."

"Hutch... somethin' I gotta tell ya."

"Sure buddy."

"I took more sleeping pills than I should have to block out the feelings... only I think it made things worse."

Hutch was shocked at this revelation as he hadn't known the depth of despair Starsky had been feeling. He couldn't understand it and realised with a sickening feeling how things could have turned out much worse. He should have got Starsky professional help. He felt responsible and as much to blame as if he had forced the pills on Starsky.

Starsky looked at Hutch for some sort of reaction... anything... but there was none.

"Well, aren't ya gonna tell me what an idiot I've been?"

Hutch was still trying to come to terms with how low Starsky must have been to resort to what he did.

"What good would that do Starsky? I should have seen how bad things were for you."

"Oh great turn it around to you and what you could have done. It was me! I did it... I..."

"Are you still taking them?" Hutch interrupted.

"No, threw them all out when you got shot."

Hutch breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Honest?"

"Honest injun" Starsky smiled.

"Are you still depressed?"

Starsky thought carefully before answering.

"Not as bad as I was... think I'm dealing with it but I talked to one of the nurses here and she's given me a name of a good counsellor to talk to."

Hutch beamed with pride at his friend admitting he needed help.

"Are you going to?"

"Yeah... sure... why not? Won't make me nuttier than I already am!"

They both laughed and it felt good. God they hadn't shared a laugh in a hell of a long time. Starsky let more tears lose, and lowered his head. Hutch could see a slight tremble in his shoulders.

"Starsk... its okay... its over."

Starsky let them fall.

"It's not okay Hutch... I said I cared more for Nick than you when I should never have stuck up for that no good punk."

Hutch smiled at the term he had used about Nick himself, not so long ago.

"You didn't say you didn't care more for Nick." Hutch could still recall the words clearly.

"I work with you... he's my family."

The words that had taken his very breath away but he was in no hurry to remind Starsky of what he actually said. He knew his friend had enough to work through.

"Nick's an asshole Hutch and I was an even bigger one acting like I did. I dunno why I couldn't say how I felt... too macho... too frightened... I dunno."

He smiled at Hutch through the tears and wiped the back of his hand across his wet cheek.

"Its all right... really Starsk... come 'ere" Hutch opened his arms to receive his best friend... his brother. Starsky welcomed the invitation and hugged Hutch as close as he dare without hurting his incision. When he heard a small groan from Hutch he disentangled himself.

"Sorry... didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay."

"Is it Hutch? Is everything going to be the same again? I can't believe after how I acted and what I said and then you risk your life to save my lousy brother."

"That's the whole point dummy, he is your brother."

Starsky paused and stared straight at Hutch's face.

"What? Have I got ketchup on my face?" Hutch tried to inject some humour into the conversation.

"No."

Then Starsky turned serious.

"Hutch, you are."

"I am what?" Hutch was confused by the comment.

"You are... you are my brother Hutch."

"Aww Starsk you don't have to say that just to make me feel better." Hutch was uncomfortable at the comment.

"I'm not Hutch, god damn I mean every word... nearly losing you because of what you did. Risking your own life because of my worthless shit of a brother. And I'm not saying what I am just because of what happened. I felt this way about you before... I'm just not very good with words... unlike you... and lousy at showing my feelings I guess. God knows my girlfriends are always moaning at me that I don't 'open up' enough to them."

Hutch's eyes were beginning to close and Starsky saw it but he still had more to say.

"I couldn't handle life without ya babe. You are my brother, maybe not blood but closer than a real brother. You mean more to me than Nick... I love you too Hutch... just couldn't say it before... don't wanna lose you... ever."

There was nothing Hutch could say to that. He reached out a hand inviting Starsky to take it. Hutch gripped hard as he let his own tears begin to fall behind closed eyes. They had both been through so much but they had survived. Hutch could rest easy now. Nothing more needed said.

Brothers to the end.

Me and thee always.

The End