STARSKY & HUTCH
I'm not really sure how this turned out as it was a long time in the writing and as I wrote it over several months with a long period of nothing inbetween my writing sytle changes quite dramatically between the beginning and the end of the story! I love Starsky and Hutch and really hope that I have done the show justice... but please do REVIEW and tell me what you think! I may have a go at editing the second half of this story at some point as I am not entirley happy with it but have worked so hard to try and get it complete, and have put many hours into writing it, so just for the shere effort I have put into it I have decided to post it now.
I hope you enjoy what you read, and please do let me know what you think.
Thank You!
P.S. I've added another little section to this now so I would lve to know what you think about the changes!
SILENT SUFFERANCE
Hutch could feel the painful tug of his muscles as they made heavy impact with the ground. He had no idea how long he had been running, or how hard he would push himself to reach his friend in time… in time to say goodbye.
Doctors, nurses, patients alike scattered as they past him by in a flash of grey and white – in that moment Hutch was blind to all that was going on around him, colour fading into blackness as the hope it signified was consumed by the black hole in his heart.
It had not been half an hour since he had received the devastating call from Captain Dolbey, who had been keeping close vidual over Starsky's bedside since the early hours of the morning – his captain's words residing in his mind like a mocking echo as he had heard the painful screech of rubber tyres over tarmac as he sped his way to the hospital, siren flaring, the adrenaline pumping in his veins.
"You'd better get down here… now!"
'…now!'
Hutch could feel the emptiness as Starsky lay dying, could feel the darkness taking hold of him – stealing his soul as his life force gradually crept away from him… and in that moment he hoped that the recklessness of his driving would take him to. For what was the point of living a mere physical life… noting more than a half life, an existence… a body without a soul.
As he plunged through the swinging double doors now laying ahead of him his world opened up into a vast corridor, the floor reflecting a clinically sterilised white gleam. He could just make out Captain Dolbey approaching him from the opposite direction…
"I'm sorry Hutch."
…his voice reflecting all the horror and despondency of a man tormented by grief.
"No!" Hutch cried out, unable to contain his anguish… not now, not yet, not before he had had the chance to say goodbye. They had always said that when the time came for them to go they would go together, 'thee and me'… but now there was only 'me'.
He continued to run, faster, harder now, without seeming to get any closer. Blood… Starsky's blood stained the walls either side of him, as if to serve as an eternal reminder of all that the pair had been through together… of the pain from which one of them at least had now been set free.
Hutch stumbled suddenly, feeling as the ground gave way from beneath him, gravity taking control as he reached out helplessly to steady himself – inadvertently soaking himself with his partner's blood on impact with the floor… it was cold, chilling him to his heart.
"No!"
"No!" Hutch screamed as he awoke in a pool of his own sweat, his heart pounding as his head throbbed painfully. He quickly threw himself over the edge of the bed breathing deeply as he felt as though he may vomit. A dream… it had all just been a dream… a bad one, but a dream none the less!
…but he had to be sure.
Reaching over to the bedside table he pulled the phone closer towards him cautiously before placing the cold receiver to his ear, cringing as the mechanical sound of the dialling tone on the other end met with his hearing… reminding him too much of the monotonous drone of a hospital heart monitor to be of any comfort.
Uncertainly, and with a shaky hand he dialled the fateful numbers which had become imprinted on his mind these past few devastating weeks, and waited. Hardly daring to breathe as the painful consideration that this was all just another illusion of his mocking nightmares filled his mind, or that this was in fact the dream… and the loss of Starsky the reality.
He heard the faint click as the receiver connected before a brief moment of eerie silence prompted a pretty, young voice to ring out from the other end, catching Hutch off guard.
"Memorial hospital, Intensive Care Unit, how may I assist you?"
Hutch froze, a sudden weakness of mind overtaking him as he contemplated putting the phone down on the young woman. He felt an unexpected pain grip his chest, struggling for breath as he forced the words hesitantly from between his lips.
"Ummm, yes, my name is Detective Kenneth Hutchinson." He uttered after clearing his throat. "I'm calling regarding the condition of my partner, Detective David Starsky."
"I'm afraid it's very late Detective," the nurse spoke in polite response, "visiting hours ended earlier this evening. If you could call back sometime tomorrow someone should be able to deal with your enquiry then."
"Please," Hutch sighed despondently, failing to keep the desperation out if his voice as he glanced briefly at the bedside clock, fighting to regain his lost composure. The little hand indicated that it had just gone 3 o' clock in the morning. "Today is already tomorrow miss, and if you could find it in your heart to disband what I know to be standard hospital legislation just this once you may be able to determine how I am going to be spending the next six hours before your hospital tells me that I am yet again within my rights to visit my partner."
"Detective…"
"Please!"
An awkward silence suddenly ensued, characterised by a mutual understanding between the two of them. Hutch waited attentively for the nurse's response, the pain in his chest intensifying making him gasp for breath as he heard her mutter something inaudible down the receiver at the other end. But it was simply just another symptom of the intense anxiety which had plagued him over the past few days.
"Well this is extremely unorthodox Detective." She replied at last. "But if you hang on the line just a little while longer I will see what I can do."
"Thank You." Hutch signed.
"What was the name of your partner again?"
"Starsky… David… Detective David Starsky." He faltered exhaustedly before the line finally fell silent.
Hutch continued to keep a constricted hold of the receiver, his fingers turning a pale grey as his tight grip squeezed the blood from his icy hands. The eerie background noise echoing down the line made him dizzy with apprehension, but as seconds drifted into minutes and minutes felt like hours Hutch finally fell into a state of subdued acceptance, barely even noticing the young nurse's flowery voice ring out as she finally resumed her position at the other end of the receiver.
"Detective… detective are you still there?" She asked.
"Yeah… yeah I'm here." Hutch faltered.
"I couldn't find any current records of your partner within our unit." The girl explained slowly, "So I contacted the administration department… David Starsky was transferred to a private room in one of our main wards earlier this evening." She continued. "He's going to be fine."
He's going to be fine.
…But this time she received no response, as, finding himself unable to reply Hutch simply replaced the receiver… leaving the whining drone of the dialling tone to say what he could not.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
"You've lost weight." Starsky's tone was concerned as he observed the drawn and sunken features of his partner earlier the next morning, "When was the last time you had something proper to eat?"
"Oh I don't know…" Hutch shrugged matter of factly, "Yesterday sometime maybe."
"You've not been eating properly." The curly haired detective scolded as he aimed a knowing glare in Hutch's direction.
"So what am I supposed to do?" Hutch suddenly snapped as he turned venomously towards Starsky before appearing to soften slightly at the sight of his partner's sky blue eyes looking back at him.
Starsky sighed painfully… he should have seen this coming; it was so like his best friend to start blaming himself when something like this happened. The truth was that everybody had been so focused on his own recovery over these past few weeks that they had failed to recognise the adverse effect that events had had on Hutch… and it was now his partners well being that Starsky was beginning to fear for, lest he should soon be receiving first hand experience of the city infirmary, on the other side of the hospital bed… not that it would be the first time.
"EAT!" Starsky's tone was firm as he looked at Hutch disapprovingly, eyebrows raised. "Here." He said as he handed him the untouched bowl of porridge from his breakfast tray, "You can start with this."
"Hospital food not appeal to your taste then?" Hutch suddenly smiled with forced cheer.
"I have my own personal catering system." Starsky laughed as he pointed to a small, brown paper bag, which until now Hutch had not observed – grease stains were already beginning to gather at the bottom making him retch inwardly at the sight of it. "Courtesy of 'The Pits'." Starsky explained.
Hutch rolled his eyes, "You know Huggy will expect you to pay him for that mess don't you?" He asked.
"So, he can add it to my tab." Starsky grinned, "I'll get back to him."
"Yeah, if the contents of that bag don't kill you first." Hutch muttered.
"Uh?" Starsky asked absentmindedly as Hutch's words failed to reach him… but his partner had suddenly gone silent.
"Nothing," The blond haired detective finally responded, his tone unusually despondent as he rose from his seat. "It doesn't matter." He continued as he made his way over to the window, proceeding to gaze regretfully out at the sight of the city below.
Starsky attentively observed Hutch's unmoving form for a moment, the heavy rise and fall of his rib cage the only thing separating him from an ancient stone immortalisation, wearied through age – but to his dismay Starsky realised that in this case it wasn't time that had had such an unkind effect on his friend, and equally it would take more than a decent meal and a good nights sleep to fix it.
"How's the wrist?" He asked at last, referring to the attack upon his partner in the hospital parking lot on the day of his shooting, as he searched around for something matter of fact to say in his desperation to curb the uneasy silence that had suddenly elapsed between them.
"I wouldn't know." Hutch finally sighed in response. "They removed the stitches this morning… but with these infernal painkillers still coursing through me I can't feel a damn thing… only numb."
"You were lucky you avoided a punctured vein." Starsky pointed out, "You got off lightly with just a flesh wound."
"Lighter than a gunshot wound to the chest in any case." Hutch muttered in response before continuing at a whisper. "Although sometimes I almost wish I hadn't."
Starsky gave his partner a perturbed look, raising his eyebrows perceptively as the silence immediately resumed. "Hutch, please, just talk to me… tell me, what are you feeling? What's going on in that mind of yours?" He pleaded with the blond haired detective.
"Nothing Starsk." Hutch replied, his tone forceful as to convey he'd rather his friend drop the subject. "You're the one confined to a hospital bed. You should be resting, not spending all your time focusing on me." He sighed regretfully. "You could have died."
"Although it's always toughest on the one's left behind." Starsky explained.
"Pardon?"
"Your words not mine partner." Starsky shrugged hesitantly as he re-called his partner's reaction to news of the first time he had almost lost his life in the line of duty. "I'm worried about you Hutch." He continued gravely. "You're not eating, you're not sleeping… all that time I spent in the ICU on life support I was completely oblivious to everything going on around me… a pain free, fear free existence, understand? The hell you lived through during those terrible few days… that was your hell Hutch, not mine."
Hutch failed to respond for a moment before turning back to face his partner. "I'm sorry I've gotta go." He spoke hastily, aiming a forced smile in the direction of the curly haired detective sitting up in the bed opposite him. "I'll be back later." He promised.
"But you've gotta eat Hutch." Starsky called after him as he observed the untouched bowl of porridge, still sitting cooling on the breakfast tray in front of him where it had remained since he had offered it up to his blond haired partner almost ten minutes prior.
"I'm not hungry." He heard Hutch mutter in quiet response, before closing the door with a sudden click behind him – leaving Starsky to contemplate what was to possibly be done.
… Outside in the hospital parking lot Hutch sat behind the wheel of Starsky's restored Ford Gran Torino, 'Stripped Tomato', his face pale, eyes dormant as they reflected the emptiness of his soul.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Later that day as Starsky lay sleeping in the isolating confines of his dreary hospital room he stirred peacefully as the familiar figure of a young woman with rich locks of dark brown hair and a radiant glint in her eyes shattered through his cheerless dreams and began to approach.
"Terry." Starsky muttered audibly through his unconsciousness as he immediately recognised her slender form, still as perfect as she had ever been in his eyes.
"I'm here Davy." She smiled lovingly in response, "Just like I said I always would be."
Starsky returned her gesture with the same affection with which they had always regarded each other during their lifetime together, even up to the moment of Terry's last dying breath. "I've missed you." He spoke wistfully at last as he reached out to touch her approaching form – flinching slightly as his outstretched fingers made unexpected contact with her rosy cheekbone for an instant before immediately withdrawing as though suddenly sensing that this was something that was not yet meant to be.
"I'm sorry." She whispered knowingly before continuing after a pause, allowing the couple a brief second in time to savour this moment together, "Our day will come, but not yet… Hutch needs you Dave… he's beginning to give up."
"I need you too though." Starsky replied as he reached out to take Terry's soft hands within his own.
"No…" She shook her head, tears beginning to glisten in her hazel eyes as her voice began to falter, "Not anymore you don't… Someday you will again… But I'm afraid my time is only limited here."
"But I don't know how to help him." Starsky explained desperately as to his horror Terry's supple fingers suddenly began to merge with his palm as her solid form gradually began to dissolve in front of him.
"It'll come to you in time." She smiled. "I promise."
"I thought best friends didn't need to make promises." Starsky smiled a watery smile in response as he felt the essence of her silky lips caress his cheek.
"This is a different kind of promise." She whispered, a delicate breath in his ear, "To ensure that you always have something to hold onto, even when all else appears lost to you."
"But how can I hold onto you?" He asked, "How can I hold onto this?"
"You can't…" She replied regretfully. "When you wake up this will appear nothing more than a distant memory to you… Just never forget what we once had," she continued, "Promise me… never let Hutch forget."
"Just stay a while." Starsky pleaded as Terry's faint figure continued to fade before him. "Only a little longer… I love you."
"I know." She smiled, before, with a sudden rush of warm breeze like a gentle breath of moist air to the back of Starsky's neck, ruffling his hair, she was gone – and Starsky awoke with a jolt.
… His heart felt inexplicably empty, as though something very precious and beautiful had just been cruelly torn away from him before he was ready, leaving him with an almost unearthly loneliness, penetrating even his very soul – yet in mind he felt strangely enlightened. He glanced over at the clock as it ticked away the seconds… minutes… lonely hours where it was fixed upon the wall opposite him – six o' clock. Starsky frowned, there was no sign of Hutch as he observed his chiefly comfortless surroundings, feeling the emptiness of the monotonous hospital atmosphere, and in that instant his sense of self pity turned into one of extreme awareness at the realisation that despite his earlier assurity Hutch had failed to return.
Starsky punched the alarm hanging above the headboard at the end of the bed, alerting the on duty nurse to his need. She was a young woman, a student nurse in training who was still slightly unsure of the unfamiliar hospital surroundings after years of being meticulously guided through her medical studies by over accommodating college professors, although she appeared to have made an instant connection with both inner city detectives.
"You're only supposed to ring that during an emergency." She spoke, indicating the small red buzzer located above Starsky's head as, with an affectionate if not somewhat absent smile, he turned to glance questioningly at her as she clicked the door gently open.
"I'm sorry." He apologised as he registered the concern in her eyes. "I just need to know… have there been any messages left at reception for me recently?"
"Not that I know of." She explained with a casual shake of her head, before continuing more cautiously as she observed Starsky's distinctly anxious expression, "Is anything wrong Dave?"
"Maybe." Starsky muttered to himself before faltering, "Umm, no, it's alright… I'm sorry to have concerned you."
"That's my job." She smiled in response as she turned to return to her shift, before continuing, "Just call if you need anything."
Starsky nodded vaguely in response as he heard the door snap shut behind her before the room fell strangely silent – his earlier conversation with Hutch appearing to radiate through the hollow walls of his empty room, inaudible words spinning through his mind to the solitary sound of his shallow breathing… before the conclusion finally became clear to him, like an effeminate voice whispering in his ear as though from another world.
"Hutch needs you Dave… he's beginning to give up."
Finally he took up the receiver to the phone resting on the over crowded bedside cabinet next to him. Dialling his required number carefully he pressed the white, plastic mouth combined earpiece to his cheek and lips before waiting for the landline to establish its connection. After a moment a familiar voice rang out from the other end, jolting Starsky back to some sense of reality.
"'The Pits' gourmet catering and traditional beverages. You've reached the proprietor Huggy Bear."
"Huggy it's Starsky." He responded urgently, without giving time for explanation. "Listen, I need you to do something for me."
"What's up?" Huggy asked.
"I need you to check on Hutch for me." He persisted, ignoring the prominent concern in his friend's tone – only serving to highlight Huggy's unease as he heard the obvious agitation conveyed within the detectives voice.
"Is something wrong?" The young informant questioned.
"I'm not sure." Starsky explained before continuing with more uncertainty. "Maybe… Not necessarily… Just do this for me Hug, for Hutch, please."
A moment later he replaced the receiver. A single word answer from the opposite line finally numbing the persistently worrying thoughts running through his mind.
"Sure." – Spoken with a familiar smile and the conviction that given time, and a little support from those around him, whatever was currently spinning through Hutch's sub-conscious would all soon belong to the ever distant past.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Huggy had wanted to visit Hutch's place straight away after putting the receiver down on Starsky a few hours earlier, so concerned had he been by the young Detective's curious and urgent request. But things had needed sorting at the restaurant which, as the proprietor, had made it impossible for him to get away before nine, and it was getting on for close to ten o' clock when he finally reached Hutch's apartment.
As he knocked on the door he could hear a vague commotion from within. Hutch's car was pulled up in the drive so he realised that he must be home, but as the seconds ticked by and drifted into minutes – during which time he continued to wrap on the door whilst calling his friend's name in earnest – he began to believe that Hutch was avoiding him intentionally. Finally however he heard the lock catch from inside and the door was drawn open.
The figure of Hutch stood within it's solid set frame, looking surprisingly at ease with his unexpected guest considering the urgency of Starsky's message a few hours previous – if not a little tired and slightly thinner than usual.
"Huggy." He smiled wearily in the presence of his friend before glancing back briefly in the direction of the clock on the far wall behind him, a concerned look furrowing his brow. "Is something wrong?"
"Well I hope not, Huggy doesn't do trouble." Huggy responded cheerfully, aiming a cursory glance in Hutch's direction before continuing, "This is strictly a social visit… at Starsky's request I'm afraid."
The blond haired Detective immediately paled. "Is he alright?" He asked with an alarmed edge to his tone.
"Fine." Huggy nodded reassuringly. "Well on the road to recovery from what I can tell." But Hutch had suddenly gone silent and failed to notice the young informant's words of comfort.
"I was meant to visit him this afternoon." He muttered distractedly under his breath, his tone heavy and full of blame as an element of concern began to encroach upon Huggy's self-assured mind. "I told him I would visit."
"I'm sure Starsky won't hold it against you." Huggy explained encouragingly before fixing Hutch with a confident smile. "That's not his style."
He wasn't sure whether his friend had heard him at first or not and a further few silent moments passed between them, leaving an unfamiliar void which Huggy had learnt to associate more with both the big-time and petty crooks that he had come into contact with over the years rather than the two Bay City Detectives in the long time that he had known them. Huggy's words must have somehow penetrated the black cloud curtaining Hutch's subconscious however as he suddenly turned to respond, abruptly shattering the obtrusive silence which has elapsed between them.
"No, I suppose not." He muttered thoughtfully to himself before continuing after a moment. "Well I suppose you had better come in." He spoke as he stood aside to allow Huggy entrance to his apartment before closing the door behind him and immediately making his way over to the small kitchen unit across the other end of the room, striking a match to the stove and putting the kettle on without even bothering to first ask his friend whether he wanted a drink or not.
"Actually," Huggy ventured to continue at last, when the awkward silence threatened to rear it's unwelcome head again, drawing a troubling rift between the two of them. "Starsky seemed rather more concerned about you."
"So has he got you checking up on me now?" Hutch suddenly snapped. "Because I don't need a babysitter."
"Alright, chill man!" Huggy immediately raised his hands in protest, in an attempt to calm the situation. "We're just concerned about you that's all. Starsky's shooting affected us all in a big way…"
"And I'm dealing with it." Hutch cut in, making an effort to revise his hostile tone after his sudden outburst, although still with an element of aversion in his voice. At that moment however the kettle let out a shrill whistle as an indication that it had finally come up to boil and Hutch turned to glance at it before appearing to write off the idea of coffee and making his way over to the fridge. "I think I need something stronger." He muttered.
As the piercing whine of the kettle became almost intolerable Huggy moved over to switch off the gas as the blond haired Detective removed two brown glass bottles from the refrigerator before offering up one of the chilled containers of beer to Huggy.
"I'm sorry." Hutch spoke as he took his first swig from the bottle in his hand, feeling the refreshing chill of the mild tasting liquid as it slipped down his throat. He took a few more calming sips from the dew tinted nozzle at his lips before eagerly draining the rest of the decanters alcoholic contents and making his way back over to the fridge to open another one. "Starsky's shooting is still very fresh in all of our minds, I know that." He continued at last. "But the sooner we can all put it behind us and get on with our lives the better, wouldn't you say? Starsky and I still have to get back out onto the streets amongst all kinds of people who wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet into just another cop who happened to get in their way… we still have a job to do once all this is over."
"I understand." Huggy spoke sympathetically in response. "You've still not returned to full duties then?" He asked.
Hutch shook his head. "Dolby's got me doing paper work until Starsky's fit enough to return to his duty." He explained. "But something tells me that he doesn't believe I'm ready to be back out working on the streets again so soon… although I can't help but feel that the longer we leave it the harder it will become to readjust to, and Starsky is going to need someone who he knows that he can trust to cover him when he finally returns to work."
"But if you did need more time, we could give you that." Huggy explained. "We would understand."
"I've told you I'm fine." Hutch sighed.
"In that case if you think we're going to stand by and let you mope around, shut up in here on your own then I'm afraid you're very much mistaken." Huggy suddenly declared resiliently. "So, how about we change the subject?"
Hutch looked as though he may have been about to protest for a moment before nodding his head submissively in reluctant agreement.
"That's more like the Hutch I know." Huggy smiled encouragingly, aiming an insistent look in his friend's direction as he did so. "So then, where are the rest of those beers?"
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
A few hours later after what had turned out to be a fairly uneventful evening, during which he had come no closer to finally discovering what was obviously preying upon Hutch's mind, Huggy awoke sprawled out in a rather undignified position on the couch. Hutch had obviously placed a blanket over his friend's unconscious form before turning in for what was left of the night himself, as it had now somehow become entangled around Huggy, trapping him within what had begun to look something like a do it yourself straightjacket.
He lay where he was, quite silent for a moment, feeling the swelling heat as it became trapped beneath the tightly swathed blanket, pricking his skin uncomfortably. Although the layout of Hutch's apartment was far from unfamiliar to him it still took Huggy a moment or two to familiarise himself with his surroundings, and gather his bearings… the moderate level of alcohol he had consumed only a few hours previous having still not completely vacated his system.
He glanced over blearily at the clock on the wall, and, seeing that it had just turned 4' o' clock in the morning somehow managed to wrestle the blanket from around him and sat up, head hung tiredly within his hands. He felt hot and drowsy, although not unpleasant as such as he might feel if he was overcoming a hangover, and with a slight sense of foreboding, realising that it was now too late in the early hours for him to return to his own apartment, he got up and began to make his way over to Hutch's small kitchen to make himself a reawakening cup of coffee.
He hadn't got very far however when he heard a muffled groan coming from the direction of Hutch's bedroom, door left slightly ajar. This eventually turned into a series of strained whimpering sounds, and, cautiously, Huggy crept over to the threshold of the young blonde's room to see what was going on. He could just about make out Hutch's unsettled form where he lay sprawled out on the bed, thrashing frantically and twisting and turning from side to side in an obvious state of distress.
Huggy recalled what Starsky had said to him on the phone earlier, his young friend's urgency that he should pay Hutch a visit that evening… and suddenly everything began to slot into place. Hutch wasn't coping with the attack upon Starsky at all, he had been noticing a distinct change in the Detective for the few weeks past now, a definite decline in his character… he was quieter, had by far become much less sociable as the weeks had gone by, and for those who knew and were close to him it had been impossible for them not to notice the substantial amount of weight he had steadily lost from his already slender form… but he had had no idea that things were as bad for him as this.
As Hutch continued to toss and turn, entangling himself within the bed sheets before him, Huggy sighed a morose sigh and made his way over to his friend's side, perching himself down softly on the end of the bed before gently placing his hand on the young Detective's shoulder.
"Hutch… Hutch…" He whispered as encouragingly as he could muster under the circumstances. "Hutch its Huggy, wake up."
At this Hutch appeared to relax into a much calmer and peaceable state of sleep but still didn't stir from unconsciousness. He had suddenly become very pale and as Huggy noticed the film of sweat start to appear upon his brow, the dark rings around his friend's eyes, which had obviously remained unnoticed for a long while before now, suddenly became more prominent.
"Hutch…" Huggy persisted. "Hutch wake up."
…and slowly, with this, Hutch began to open his eyes, licking his dry lips as he did so.
"Oh… Huggy." He squinted as his vision began to clear and his friend's form finally began to fade into view. "What's the matter?
"You were dreaming, tossing and turning in your sleep… must have been quite a nasty one." Huggy explained sympathetically. But suddenly Hutch's pale skin began to develop a deep grey, almost greenish tint to it and, in his friend's eyes, the young Detective suddenly didn't look very well at all. "You cried out." He persisted at last. "Can you remember why? What you were dreaming about?" He asked.
Hutch didn't respond… but he knew that he didn't have to. The worst of it was out now… Huggy was smart enough to put two and two together.
"Was it Starsky?" Huggy ventured to ask his friend at last, not wanting to put Hutch under too much pressure too soon, he had obviously been suffering in silence for quite some time now… yet determined that things should not go back to how they obviously had been for him during the past few weeks, especially now that a step forward had been taken.
Hutch closed his eyes revealingly, and with this Huggy patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.
"Hutch, you can't carry on like this." He sighed. "We have to get you some help."
"I don't need help." Hutch growled, already sinking back into sleep, finding it an impossibility not to give into exhaustion no matter how hard he resisted.
"I'll call Captain Dolby." Huggy explained softly to his friend before glancing down at his watch… 'Though he won't appreciate being disturbed this early in the morning', he thought to himself as he crept from the room. "You need to take the day off tomorrow, you can't go into work like this."
"I'll be alright." Hutch muttered. "Stop fussing."
'I'll make sure that we get plenty of breakfast down you in the morning as well for a change,' he thought, 'see if we can't start putting some more weight back on those bones'. "We can visit Starsky at the hospital." He then commenced to continue out loud. "That way you'll have the day to spend as long as you need there."
"I've told you I'm fine." Hutch persisted, before finally appearing to give in to sleep. His friend wondered for just how long he had been subjecting himself to this late night hell, how long had this been gong on unnoticed… perhaps since this whole terrible situation had began, and he bowed his head despairingly, wringing his hands with guilt.
"It's time to stop thinking that you're the one getting Starsky through all of this Hutch." He explained. "You need each other more than ever now."
But just how much Hutch had heard of this final revelation Huggy remained unsure, as he stepped from the room however his friend certainly appeared more settled than he had done before.
Huggy made his way over to the small table where Hutch's phone was kept, as he picked up the receiver and dialled Captain Dolby's number this was certainly one phone call he wasn't looking forward to making.
The dial tone appeared to ring on for an unnervingly long time before somebody finally picked up the receiver at the other end, and Huggy was almost about ready to put his line down when a weary and irritable voice answered. "Yes, who is it?"
"Captain Dolby, this is Huggy." The young man responded with forced determination. "I'm at Hutch's place."
"Huggy?" The Captain enquired. "What in hell's name are you doing calling me at this hour in the morning? Don't you know what time it is?"
"Yes Captain, I do." Huggy persisted. "But there's something that I think you should know."
"Well can't it wait until the morning?" He asked, tone full of sleep and obvious impatience at being woken at such an unearthly hour for reasons which at present he couldn't quite understand.
"No Captain." Huggy spoke. "It really can't… I'm afraid it concerns Hutch."
…and with that Huggy began to explain everything which had transpired between the young Detective and himself that evening, following Starsky's obvious concern for his partner the day before.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Hutch was floating, floating above his meticulously made bed, head skimming the roof of his apartment as he took in the bird's eye view he now had of his living quarters. Outside it was still night, the stars glistening temptingly high up in the sky outside his window. There was a cool breeze coming from somewhere, adding extra leverage to his flight, not too warm but not too cold… just the right temperature to keep Hutch in a pleasurable enough state of mind.
As he floated around calmingly he decided to seek out the cause of this unknown draft, there were no doors or windows left ajar as far as he could see, and he scaled his entire apartment for any sign of such… but as he floated back to his bedroom, nearing the small side window which he sometimes left somewhat agape during the hot summer months its glass pane suddenly burst inwardly towards him and he was sucked out into the dark night like one consumed by a bottomless black hole…
Though Hutch carried on floating. He wasn't in his apartment anymore but looking down at a vast country landscape of grass and trees, he could hear the confused sounds of people talking, as though several separate conversations were going on at once, even though his rational mind was telling him that he was far too high up to realistically be able to hear them, and the sounds of the city shattered his peaceful illusion.
He was floating amidst a blanket of brightly coloured clouds, yellows, lilacs, oranges, reds… lots of red, like blood. The sound of a gun opening fire consumed his hearing, and suddenly he wasn't floating anymore, the clouds no longer a multitude of colours but all bleeding deep red blood, Starsky's face imprinted within each and every one of them.
…and Hutch was freefalling through a jet black, cloudless sky.
"No!" He tried to cry out, flailing around for anything which he may be able to grab onto to prevent his fall.
"No!" He gasped, as he struggled to catch his breath, icy air numbing his lungs with each fresh intake of the oxygenated gas.
"No!" But this time no sound came out, nor was it ever likely to again Hutch realised as he plummeted towards the ground.
He could see the landscape below becoming clearer with each passing moment.
… "No!" He cried despairingly as everything went black.
…Hutch sat up in bed, chest heaving, head throbbing as sweat ran down his face.
He threw his hand to his mouth just in time as he wretched several times, before, knowing what was coming, he made a mad dash for the bathroom where he vomited violently in the sink.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
"Hey, look who it is." Starsky smiled as the blonde haired Detective and Huggy Bear entered his room the next morning. "How are you feeling?"
"Lousy." Hutch finally admitted and with this Starsky noticed Huggy give him a warning glance, communicating clearly exactly the sort of night that his partner and close friend had had.
Starsky sighed.
"Oh, come on Starsk." Hutch muttered despairingly as he rubbed his tired eyes and face in response to the look which his curly haired partner gave him at this. "Don't look at me like that."
"Well you're not exactly making this easy for us are you Hutch?" Starsky scolded him concernedly, "I just want you to open up to me, tell me how you're feeling. Is that too much to ask?"
But to this Hutch didn't respond and Starsky glanced briefly in the direction of Huggy Bear, whether in search of hope or reassurance he could not be entirely certain. Though knowing that they were unlikely to get very much out of him now that he had brought the barriers down upon them Starsky gently changed the subject.
"Well I have some good news to tell of my own." He revealed with a characteristic grin at last, the genuine Dave Starsky article.
"Oh yeah, what's that then?" Huggy asked, perching himself at the end of Starsky's bed as Hutch continued with his stance of silence over by the window, gazing down absently at the city below, just as he had done the last time he had paid his curly haired partner a visit.
"The doctor's think that I should be fit enough to return home in a couple of days." Starsky continued to explain with renewed cheer to his tone, whilst all the time not taking his eyes off Hutch… who he was relieved to at least notice at this turned in acknowledgment of the news, before offering his partner a meek smile. "They're pretty assured that I'm now far enough along in my recuperation to cope with the change of scenery…" He continued. "They're even now saying that I should eventually make a full recovery." He added, as a direct statement towards his partner.
"Well that's… that's great Starsk, really great." Hutch grinned as he edged closer to the bed to be by his fellow Detective's side.
"They said that I shouldn't really be left alone for too long though… just for the first few days whilst I'm finding my feet again." He persisted knowingly, as he directed a calculated glance in Huggy's direction… the other mans response an intuitive wink in return to signify that they were both on the same wavelength. "So I was wondering… well, if it would be alright with you if I came to stay with you for a few days… it's either that or this oppressive, cheerless hospital room for another few weeks… I know that I won't be able to return to work for a while yet, but well, you know how I feel about being cooped up for too long, the claustrophobia's already begun to set in."
With this Hutch stood in what looked like quiet contemplation for a while, taking in his partner's appearance as Starsky did the same. Although the brunette was looking stronger and gaining in health and fitness by the day, the days were obviously taking their toll on Hutch.
He looked drawn and exhausted, the familiar wave of concern which Starsky had first felt as he had noticed his friend's emaciated form a few days earlier returned now, and he couldn't help but notice the dark rings highlighting the young Detectives sunken eyes, nor the deep grey tinge to his skin.
"I'm sure that would be swell Starsk." Hutch grinned at last however as the silence slowly started to encroach upon them all again, and Starsky began to worry that he may have said too much. "Listen…" Hutch nevertheless continued after a moment. "I'm just popping out to get some coffee, anybody want anything?"
Although his partner was still distinctly withdrawn, Starsky at least felt encouraged to see the first sign of a smile appear upon his friends face at this fresh revelation... reaching out to take hold of his hand as he squeezed Hutch's fingers reassuringly just before his partner turned to leave the room.
"No thanks buddy." He smiled. "I'm nearly through with hospital food now, and the coffee here's just as bad."
"Fair enough…" The blonde smiled, his fingers were freezing Starsky observed as he finally slackened his grip upon them. "I'll be back soon."
"And Hutch…" The curly haired brunette called after him as he left the room.
"Yes…"
"It's going to be alright partner." Starsky beamed up at him as he popped his head back around the edge of the door. "We're going to be alright."
Hutch smiled a watery smile at this, and for a moment Starsky thought that he noticed long repressed tears welling up in his partner's eyes.
"I know Starsk." He responded. "I know… Listen I'll be back soon ok?"
… and with that the door clicked gently closed behind him as he was gone.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
"So how is he really doing?" Starsky asked Huggy a moment or two later, finally giving in to the deep-seated concern which had plagued him over the previous number of days in his partner's absence.
He had observed just the kind of evening which had been had by both within the young informant's afflicted gaze as he had first entered the small room with his blonde haired partner only a short while ago… but, although feeling far from assured that he would like the response he received in return for his concern, he figured that the only way to help Hutch now was to accept the true nature of his situation, no matter how difficult or disconcerting that may be.
"Man, he's hurting." Huggy sighed despondently at this. "And I mean obviously really, really hurting… I'm worried Starsk, I've never seen Hutch in such a troubled frame of mind before."
As he spoke he rose from his current position where he had remained still perched on the end of Starsky's bed, and made his way over to the window, standing just a short distance away from where Hutch himself had been just a few minutes prior.
"What happened?" Starsky asked.
"What hasn't been happening more like." Huggy responded, rubbing his tired face thoughtfully with the palm's of his hands, "and hasn't been for quite a long time I expect… he's exhausted Starsk, he hasn't been sleeping, he hasn't been eating… he was at the worst I've ever seen him last night. He doesn't know it but I know that he's been sick, I heard him in the bathroom shortly after he managed to get back off again, after the first time he woke… and I couldn't get him to eat any breakfast this morning, despite the fact that I tried Starsk, I really tried."
Starsky sighed emptily at this… for a moment he was struck by a sudden wave of morbidity as he continued to stare at the spot where only a moment prior his partner had occupied. Hutch looked so lost he thought to himself now, half the man he had been before this whole sorry circumstance had began.
But everything would be right again, and the Hutch that he knew wouldn't be lost to them for long, he was sure of that. For the first time in weeks Starsky had a plan, and now more than ever he felt that he would do anything to see his partner through. Whatever Hutch was currently going through would one day soon belong to a long and highly hailed past… they just had to help him realize it first.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
Outside Hutch stood woozily beside the hospital vending machine, scrolling down the various array of coffee's, some with sugar, some without, some black, some white, some decaffeinated, yet without really seeing any of them.
At that moment he had more important things on his mind than where his next caffeine fix was coming from, and it was blinkering his senses towards anything of any importance which may have been going on around him.
Starsky was going to be alright, all the nightmares, sleepless nights, all the torture of the past few weeks felt irrelevant now as he reflected on what was and what a few weeks previous very easily might have been.
Only a short while ago he had been unsure whether his life would ever be the same again, but if all that had been disclosed and discussed between them that afternoon was to be believed Starsky, his best friend, partner, brother in more ways than could be accounted for had been returned to him, and that meant more to Hutch than anything which had transpired during his young life before… even more than becoming a police officer.
So why did he feel so lousy?
As his head began to spin and his stomach force itself into a tight knot at the very sight of the hot, rich liquid before him he thought twice about the idea of coffee and began to make his way back down the corridor towards Starsky's room.
His vision blurred and as he tried to draw the sleep from his eyes, the resultant weariness of the night before, his hand immediately reached up towards his chest fighting to draw breath into his aching lungs… his world beginning to fade in and out of focus.
The hospital walls began to close in on him and as he picked up his pace for fear of creating a scene, stumbling weakly in his disorientation as he went, he could easily have fooled himself into the belief that this was all just another terrible dream, yet another figment of his confused imagination… even though this time the small grasp upon reality which he still had told him that it was not.
He felt sick to his stomach and, as he finally felt himself falling, his arm and heaving ribcage throbbing painfully as he made heavy acquaintance with the cold hospital floor, he felt the wave of shame which he had been fighting so hard to repress and which had continuously threatened to overwhelm him during the previous few weeks wash over him now… before everything went black.
"Nurse… nurse… somebody fetch a doctor." A disembodied voice cried out amidst his darkness as Hutch suddenly found himself becoming vaguely aware of a frenzied buzz of frantic activity going on around him, before he finally succumbed to unconsciousness…
And Hutch knew no more.
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
A few days later Hutch entered his small apartment bedroom, yawning heavily from the exertions which his day had brought. Starsky had been discharged from the hospital earlier that afternoon and both Hutch and Huggy had spent the day settling him into the modest, single occupant apartment.
Hutch himself had begun to feel significantly better for the plate of food which Starsky had encouraged him to at least attempt to manage as evening had approached, seeing as all he had felt comfortable in consuming throughout the rest of the day had been some soup which Huggy had so obligingly prepared for the three of them come lunchtime, and water. He had eaten the food reluctantly to please his convalescing friend, but as the time to turn in for the evening had gradually approached, fearing sleep and yet another restless night spent like the one he felt sure he would almost certainly be in for, Hutch had begun to seriously doubt for how long he would be able to keep the contents of his stomach down, and as he removed his jacket carefully, hanging it neatly on the hanger protruding from the inside of his bedroom door, he seriously considered making a second trip to the bathroom as his stomach began doing somersaults and he could feel the bile beginning to rise unpleasantly in his throat.
He could hear Starsky snoring in the room next door to him, but as he turned to leave the room he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, capturing his attention… a glimmer of creamy white resting precariously upon the corner of his pillow, and as he approached cautiously he recognised it to be a single sheet of thin and crumpled paper, folded several times into a tiny square, with his name scribbled clearly in Starsk'y familiar untidy scrawl upon the front.
Slowly he sat down on the edge of the bed, fingering the delicate sheath uncertainly within his clammy fingers for a while before finally unfolding it and beginning to read.
Dear Hutch,
I know that I cannot even begin to understand the pain that you and everybody else have lived through during the previous few weeks, the pain which everyday you somehow manage to prove that you continue to live through every single day. But on the other hand I know the true pain of having to witness my partner and best friend become a shell of the man he once was as a result of what has happened, and it tears me up inside to watch you suffering so obviously as you are now.
I guess you're wondering how it is that I have managed to sneak this all past you, when, if I know you, you probably haven't let me out of your sight since I got home… you big blonde Blintz. But Huggy has played his role brilliantly, and has been kind and condescending enough to volunteer to place this little note in your bedroom for me… although I realise that you're probably not yet ready to hear any of this face to face, which is why I'm hoping it'll help for me to put it all down on paper for you. Hopefully in time it may become a little easier for you to talk to us about exactly what it is which has brought us to this point now, how we ever let any of this get so far, and when that time comes we'll be here ready, waiting for you.
But I guess what I'm really trying to say is that whatever it is which is currently troubling you should hold no place in your thoughts any longer, we want you better, and that's the only thing that really matters to any of us right now. Yes I can see that this goes far beyond the nightmares, the sleepless nights, which yes I know you have… you've been broken Hutch, we can all see that. But I also want you to know that I believe in you, you're strong enough to beat this thing, and I'm begging you to at least try to find a way to fight for what once was. Don't let any of this change anything for you, I'm certainly not going to let it me. I'm here for the duration buddy, I'm not going anywhere until you ask me and I'm not going to let this to continue to hurt you, I'm not letting you do that to yourself any longer, I can promise you that.
Just remember that we're all here for you, whenever things get too tough, or you just need somebody to talk to, a friend to listen. You're not alone anymore, you never have been, and from what I can see now's as good a time as any to put all of this behind you and get on with the rest of your life. I'm only in the next room if you need to talk.
Starsky.
As Hutch finished reading he sighed deeply and looked up from the sheet of creased and scrunched up paper on which the note had been composed. The apartment had suddenly gone noticeably silent, and as Hutch listened further he realised that Starsky was no longer snoring.
Hutch smiled somewhat ponderingly… one could never normally sleep with the knowledge that the other was in trouble, he should have suspected that Starsky had never been asleep in the first place, but awake from the start. Waiting for Hutch to discover the note, probably even before then listening out for any sign that the blonde haired Detective was in some kind of distress, waiting to ensure that his own services as a friend weren't to be required before finally allowing his own worn and tired body to turn in for the night himself…
… and Hutch knew that in all likelihood he would be listening in now, although was adamant not to disturb him…
Swallowing deeply to try and calm his increasingly unsettled stomach he downed a couple of the sleeping pills from a prescription pill bottle which until now had remained unopened upon his bedside cabinet instead, trying to convince himself that the words in Starsky's letter would all one day soon ring out true in the end.
He was more determined than ever now to put the fairly recent past behind him and start upon his own gradual road to recovery as he crawled apprehensively between the bed sheets, relieved at least to hear the deep breathing in the room adjacent to his resume, signifying that Starsky at least had finally succumbed to sleep.
It certainly wouldn't be easy though as he was to further find out later, awaking in a pool of his own sweat in the early hours of the morning, thrashing out in his distress before catching his wrist painfully on the sharp corner of the bedside table.
Although, filled with the reassuring sense of relief at the almost immediate realisation that he had at least not cried out, he simply lay where he was for a while, breathing deeply, fighting to compose his shattered mind and calm his aching and throbbing body. Content in his mind that he had finally taken the first few unconscious steps towards recovery, before rolling over back onto his side, sheets pulled tightly up to his shivering shoulders, and finally drifting back into a somewhat troubled although now at least unbroken sleep…
SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH
"Oh come on Hutch what's your problem?" Starsky complained a few weeks later as he lay slumped on the couch in Hutch's apartment, frail body cloaked in a blanket as he strained to catch a glimpse of his blonde haired partner in the small kitchen unit behind. He had to shout to make himself heard over the volume of the food blender, as the young Detective observed Hutch preparing something as disgustingly healthy and tasteless for his breakfast as he did during most mornings before pouring the sickly green liquid hastily down his throat.
… This was the Hutch he knew and remembered.
"I don't need a babysitter Starsk." Hutch sighed as he replaced the cutlery inside the small sink before proceeding to run the hot tap in prelude to washing up. "Besides you're supposed to be resting, I won't be gone long."
The weeks succeeding Starsky's discharge from hospital although fraught with much less tension and worry than those prior had by no means been easy. By the time Starsky had been well on the road to gaining what he had previously lost of his life back Hutch's recovery was only just beginning… but the curly haired Detective was now more assured than ever that they would eventually see each other through.
Hutch had given them all a massive scare that day when he had failed to return to Starsky's hospital room and after some short probing on Huggy's behalf news had reached them of his sudden and unexpected turn for the worse. It had come as small comfort therefore to discover that this had all come about as nothing more than the result of sleep deprivation and dehydration… but his best friend and partner had known there and then that something had to be done.
Captain Dolby had only now finally allowed Hutch to return to work, having had him placed on indeterminable sick leave since Huggy's phone call to him a few weeks earlier, his previous condition having been judged as such requiring complete rest before he was fit enough to resume his duty. Yet, although obviously anxious Starsky couldn't help but feel that this was the best possible therapy that Hutch could receive, and the most productive use of his time.
Starsky knew that it would be many months yet before he too would be fit enough to rejoin his partner in doing what the duo did best, he had many sessions of painful physiotherapy to go before he was to be seen well and truly back on his feet. But since being discharged he had also seen Hutch through many restless and nightmarish nights, during which his partner had had to fight a long and difficult fight to find himself well again, and Starsky had since become very well informed on how to strictly monitor his easting patterns… although this hadn't made it any the easier to get Hutch to eat very much at all during the earlier days.
Even so, as the blonde continued to fuss at his friend's side now Starsky couldn't help but think that his shooting had had a much more devastating and long-term impact upon the both of them, which was not so easily healed… it would be a long while yet before either of them felt confident enough being back out on the streets again, although Starsky knew equally that spending the rest of their working days behind the confines of some stuffy superior's desk was not an option that either of them had ever contemplated.
"Are you sure you'll be alright whilst I'm out?" Hutch asked. "I know Dolby said that he doesn't want me working a full day today… only a few hours until I finally find my feet again, so I should be home by lunchtime."
"Sounds great." Starsky grinned, "And yes, I'm sure I'll be fine. I was only teasing you earlier."
"You will call if you need anything?" Hutch persisted.
Starsky rolled his eyes despairingly… he was beginning to believe that a depressed Hutch wouldn't be half so irritating to live with as this. Even so it was great, and he couldn't deny a huge weight off his mind to have the first signs of his old friend back, even more so, as he so obviously was, relishing in the idea of his pending return to work.
"Look will you just go?" Starsky asked. "I promise you I'll be alright."
'I promise…'
Though Hutch, still rather susceptible to an unpredictable change of mood became suddenly very withdrawn and listless at this… and the curly brunette Detective realised immediately the error in what he had said.
With all that the pair had come through over the previous few weeks he recognised equally the importance of bringing Hutch back from a similar frame of mind which had plagued him so cruelly over the previous few weeks, and which he appeared to have momentarily slipped back into now… quickly attempting to revise his poorly selected turn of phrase. Despite the fact that his partner no longer appeared to even have registered that he had spoken.
"Hutch… Hutch look at me." He continued encouragingly after a moment, following some brief diplomatic contemplation on how best to now handle the situation. "Hutch… Come on now buddy, snap out of it."
"How can you say such a thing though Starsk? How can you make promises like that so easily after all you've been through?" The blonde questioned despondently in meek response to this. "How can you be so self assured?"
"HUTCH!"
"FOR GOD'S SAKE STARSKY YOU NEARLY DIED!"
"But, you don't need to beat yourself up about that anymore buddy." Starsky remained calm at his partner's sudden eruption, forcing a reassuring smile in his direction as he did so. "It's all over now… we made it partner… we finally made it…"
…and Starsky was surprised to find tears of relief and repressed emotion beginning to well within his own eyes as he said this, his partner's chest heaving as he too struggled to fight back the salty flow, making his way over to his friend's side before burring his head deep within the other Detective's shoulder and sobbing heart wrenchingly into his sleeve.
"It's alright partner," Starsky soothed, struggling to conquer the hot lump within his own throat now as he placed a reassuring hand upon Hutch's shoulder, gently and calmingly massaging his shivering back. "You just let it all out."
"I thought I'd lost you Starsky." Hutch sobbed, before finally pulling away from his friend's embrace a few moments later, somewhat calmer now that he had been, although his eyes still looking distinctly bloodshot and fraught.
"I know." Starsky sighed. "I know."
"You know Starsk," The blonde continued after a moment. "If anything had of happened to you, I think that would have been the end for me… being a cop, it's all that I've ever wanted to do, ever since I was really small, you know what I mean, to help people, to feel as though I could really make some sort of a difference… but I suddenly got to thinking during those many hours spent just watching over you lying in that lonely hospital bed, not knowing whether you were going to pull through or not… and, well, I suddenly realised that I wouldn't want to pay the price anymore… the job means squat if you ain't got no partner to go back to…"
"But it's time to put all of that behind us now buddy." Starsky coaxed reassuringly, as the tears threatened to overwhelm Hutch yet again, with thoughts which were conjured of what very easily might have been.
His blonde haired partner remained silent…
"Hutch, you know you could always take the day off today." He persevered, undaunted despite the lack of a response. "Call Captain Dolby and tell him if you still think it's too soon, tell him that you still need more time. He'll understand."
"No… no…" Hutch shook his head at last. "You need your rest partner… and, well I guess that it's about time that I started getting my life back."
Starsky grinned, although he could tell from the slightly uncertain tone to his voice that his friend still wasn't entirely convinced by even his own words.
"You're a hard nut to crack you know that partner." He chucked warmly.
"Well," Hutch smiled, "I've decided that I'm not going to let them get around us so easily… no matter how hard that may be."
… and with that Starsky knew that, despite all the hardship the pair had seen, all the torment and strain on Hutch's part, the testing times which still lay ahead for them both during the preceding number of months, they would eventually come through the rest together…
…'thee and me' together again, just as had always been meant to be.
End.