Hearts We Leave Behind

Starsky looked up to see Hutch come bursting through the doors into the squad room. He had a smile on his face as he whistled some annoying tune.

"Good morning, men. Good morning, Starsk." The roomful of detectives called out their hellos and went back to work. Hutch sat down across from his partner and studied him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Unh, just tired."

"Oh really? What were you up to last night?" Hutch's eyebrows danced. "Was it Paula? Kathy? Tammy? Oo, tell me it was Kristy!"

Starsky looked up at him briefly then laid his cheek onto his palm and continue to flip through the file open on his desk. "Nothing fun like that. There was a great double feature on the tube and I…"

"Aw, Starsky. How many times have I told you not to rot your brain with that tripe?"

"S'not tripe," Starsky said through a yawn. Nothing like a good horror flick before bed.

"Yeah, sure. I can see it has done you a world of good," Hutch said sarcastically. "I'd have nightmares."

Starsky shot his friend a nasty look but resisted the urge to stick out his tongue. "What's got you in such a great mood?"

"I got a call from my old pal Bake."

"Who?"

"You know, Rick Baker." Hutch paused and waited. Seeing no recognition in Starsky's eyes, he continued. "He was my roommate in college, remember?"

"Oh, Dr. Baker."

Hutch screwed up his face. "Nooo. He is an architect…never mind."

Starsky picked his head up from his hand and turned to face Hutch. "No, go on."

Hutch gave him a sideways glare then relaxed as he realized Starsky really did want to hear about the phone call. "He and his wife, Patricia, are coming out to visit. They'll be here on Wednesday."

"That's t'rrific. You haven't seen him since Christmas two years ago," Starsky said with a grin. Hutch looked over at him, surprised. "See, I do pay attention. Are you going to ask for some time off?"

Hutch smiled back at his best friend. "Actually, they have some other people to visit during the week but they want to do some skiing this weekend and asked me to come along."

Starsky chuckled. "They come to southern California and want to go skiing. That's rich."

"Rick."

"Wha…?"

Hutch snickered, "Never mind. And actually this is a great time of year to ski Mountain High Resort. Bake is a pilot and is flying in himself so the resort is only a thirty minute jaunt by air, if that."

Starsky rested his chin back on his hand. "Oh good. Have fun." He yawned again.

Hutch reached over and picked up the empty coffee cup next to Starsky. He leaned over to the coffee maker and refilled it, grabbed the sugar container and placed both in front of the man across from him. Starsky smiled and began to pour copious amounts of sugar into the black brew. Hutch bit his tongue to keep from complaining about it. "They asked if you wanted to come along."

"Huh? Me? Skiing?"

"Sure."

"I don't know."

"Aw, come on Starsk. You'll like Bake and the wife. She's a real pistol."

Starsky took a tentative sip of the hot coffee and let out a pleased noise. "Oh yeah?"

"So…will ya?"

Starsky looked up from the steaming mug and saw the pleading look in his partner's eyes. "Well, okay." He jumped when Hutch slapped a hand on the desk.

"Great! I'll let them know when he calls me on Wednesday. We'll go Saturday."

Starsky grinned widely as the caffeine started to flow through him. He loved to see his best friend happy.

~ S&H ~

Friday morning Hutch arrived in the squad room much more subdued than the last few days. He cleared his throat as he sat down and placed a paper bag on his desk. He pulled out a small bottled of orange juice.

"You okay?" Starsky asked as he tapped out a report on the typewriter.

"Yeah, just trying to ward off a cold."

"Aw, nuts. Are you going to call off the ski trip?"

"No way, Starsk! It's just a cold."

Starsky watched Hutch closely. His color was fine and he didn't seem sick but he could hear him clearing his throat occasionally and winced in sympathy. "Well, okay. But if you end up sick, I'm telling Bake myself you aren't going."

Hutch smiled warmly at Starsky. "Okay, Mom."

Starsky stuck out his tongue and was horrified when Hutch slapped a tissue on it. "Wha da hell?" Starsky scraped the wet mess off his tongue but couldn't get it completely clean. He spit into his hand as he glared at the people in the room laughing at him.

"Don't…worry," Hutch said through his laughter. "I didn't…use that one…yet." He held his stomach as he bent over in a fit of giggling.

Starsky jumped up, took a cup of water and rinsed his mouth then looked around for somewhere to spit the liquid. He took Hutch's prized mug, the one that had printed on it "Left Handed People Aren't In Their Right Mind" and spit the water in it.

"Hey! Starsky! That's gross."

Starsky set the mug directly in front of Hutch and sat down with a smug grin. Hutch picked up the mug and hurried out of the room.

~S&H~

Starsky heard Hutch's loud Ford pull up in front of his apartment. He grabbed his bag and quietly left his apartment as to not further bother his neighbors in the pre-dawn hour. He pulled open the back door of the care and winced as it squeaked noisily. Tossing in his bag, he got into the car. Hutch greeted him with a raspy hello.

"You don't sound so hot, Buddy."

"I'm fine," Hutch managed to say more clearly. I just hadn't spoken yet this morning." Starsky eyed him warily despite the reason being a sound one. Hutch slowed at a traffic light and smiled over at his friend. "Cut it out, Mom." Starsky started to smile back until Hutch let out a cough. "It's just a cold," he said patiently.

Starsky 'hmphed' then looked around. "Hey, where are your skis?"

"I left them home. Since you are renting anyway, I thought it would be easier than trying to strap them onto the car."

"Oh yeah, that makes sense."

Hutch reached behind him and handed Starsky a white paper sack. "Here you go. Try not to redecorate my car, would ya?"

Starsky looked into the bag and his face lit up. "Blintzes?"

"Blueberry and cheese."

"Aw, Hutch, this is t'rrific. Thanks." Starsky counted the items in the bag. "There are only four."

"That's not enough for you?" Hutch asked with a laugh.

"What about you, Bake and his wife?"

Hutch laughed again. "They wouldn't touch that stuff with a ten foot pole. And I had my shake already."

Starsky happily pulled out one of the treats and bit into it. "Thanks Blondie," he said through a mouthful of food.

"You're welcome, Starsk."

By the time they reached the small airport outside of town, Starsky had downed two of the four blintzes and had begged Hutch to stop at a coffee shop. They ended up buying coffee for all four of them and Bake and Patricia were very appreciative. Hutch introduced everyone as they all climbed into the small prop plane and Bake started the take-off process.

"Nice to meet you finally, Dave!" Rick Baker boomed from the cockpit. Hutch is always going on and on about his partner, right hun?" Bake smiled over at his wife.

"Geez, yeah. I expected someone with a wings and a halo but you look like a regular guy," Patricia turned to smile back at Starsky. She laughed loudly when she spotted Hutch blushing from his toes to his hairline. "Hey, the man needs to know how you feel about him, Kenny."

Starsky had started to flush a little with the attention. The partners glanced nervously at each other then looked away. Patricia guffawed at the site then turned back to face the windshield as Bake taxied to the runway.

Hutch saw Starsky lean over and study the dials and gauges. "This is a lot nicer than The Baron's, don't you think?"

Starsky answered with a 'huh?' then smiled and nodded as he realized what Hutch asked. He settled back into his seat.

Hutch sipped his coffee and looked over at his partner. "What happened to your coffee, did you forget it in the car?"

"Naw. I finished it."

Hutch moved uncomfortably in his seat. "Starsk, do you think that was such a great idea? You know the stuff runs through you quickly."

Starsky shifted sideways and glared at Hutch. He whispered through gritted teeth, "I'm not a kid and you ain't my dad." He blushed when he heard Patricia chuckle and was thankful she didn't look back.

"Yeah, well…" Hutch began.

"I took care of it," Starsky hissed back.

"What? When? I never saw you go in the…oh, you didn't." Starsky shifted toward the window and stared outside as if he was suddenly very interested in the view. Hutch put his hand over his eyes and shook his head. "I'll never show my face there again." He jumped as Patricia couldn't hold in her mirth any longer and erupted in a loud chortle.

"Watering the plants. That's all he was doing, Kenny. This is going to be a fun weekend, boys," she said as she glanced over at her husband who was now also laughing.

Starsky slid down in his seat and tried to become as small as possible until Bake's radio crackled and they were told they were cleared for takeoff. Starsky sat back up and watched in fascination as the small aircraft smoothly became airborne. "Oh yeah, much nice than flying with The Baron."

"Ken told me about that trip," Bake said glancing back at Starsky. "I don't think I could do what you do. No, strike that. I know I couldn't do what you do."

Patricia looked back at Starsky. "Same here."

"Oh, I don't know, Patty. You are one tough broad. You sure you don't want to join the force? We could use someone like you." Hutch winked at his friend's wife.

"Me?!" Patricia exclaimed. She slapped her leg as she laughed until she snorted which made her and the rest of the aircraft's occupants laugh all the more.

The foursome chatted easily for a while. Hutch was the first to notice that Bake had dropped out of the conversation. Patricia then turned her attention to her husband. "What is it, Bake?" she asked nervously.

"I'm not sure. The oil pressure seems to be dropping." Bake flicked his finger at the glass dial. Suddenly the plane bucked and dropped altitude. "Buckle up if you aren't already!"

"Bake, I see smoke!" Patricia exclaimed.

"I see it," Bake answered as he picked up the radio microphone. "Mayday, mayday! This is Delta Papa 43075. Do you read me?"

"Go ahead Delta Papa 43075."

"We are approximately 20 miles southwest of Mountain High and experiencing…" Bake dropped the mic on the floorboard as the plane bucked again. He grabbed the yoke with both hands.

"Repeat Delta Papa!" the voice from the radio urged. Patricia retrieved the mic and restated their location and other vital information as Bake worked hard to keep the sputtering aircraft from dipping into the treetops.

"Can you make it to the resort, Bake?" Hutch asked from behind him.

"I don't think we can. Look for a clearing or a road. I'm not familiar with the territory." He heard Starsky whisper 'oh shit' from beside Hutch just as the plane dropped sharply. He felt the concussion of a tree hitting the underside of the plane beneath his feet. Patricia yelled out as the right wing tip was sheared off a moment later. "Hang on! We're going down!"

~S&H~

Bursts of light and awareness shot through Starsky along with stabs of pain. He heard himself groan and slowly opened his eyes. He hurt all over and wasn't sure why. Something rough scraped at his cheek. He tried to brush it away but his left arm was caught on something. Blinking to clear his vision, Starsky saw only dark browns and green. He smelled a combination of earth and…fuel? The plane! He flailed until his arm came free. He pushed against the ground, lifting his head up. Bright sunlight flashed through the trees and blinded him. He groaned again as the light made his head ache.

"Hutch?" Starsky called out but it was just a whisper. He took in a breath and called out again. "Hutch, where are you?" Starsky pulled at the strap of the seatbelt and finally freed himself. He fell onto the hard ground with an 'oompf.' He pushed the heavy seat off of him then used it to steady himself as he got to his feet. He saw that he and the seat had been ripped from the plane, only a thin sheet of torn metal was still attached to the bolts at the bottom of his seat. The door to the plane yawned open and Starsky gasped as the wreckage. The left side of the aircraft sustained the most damage. With a glance he saw that the Bake and the entire pilot's seat were gone. Patricia's dark hair hung down over her face as she hung limply to the side. Starsky wasn't sure if she was alive or not but his eyes then flew to Hutch – or where he had last seen Hutch. The side of the plane was dented in like an old tin can. The floor was gashed and vegetation poked up through the holes. Starsky scrambled up onto the fuselage and pulled himself through the doorway. He looked to his left and his stomach lurched into his throat.

Hutch was still strapped to his own chair which was lying on its side. From where Starsky stood, he couldn't see Hutch's head or face. Hutch's legs and arms were strewn about and motionless. As Starsky took a tentative step forward his foot slipped through a hole in the floor and he went down hard as he felt a bone snap. A scream tore from him but all his mind could focus on was that the sound hadn't caused his friend to stir.

"Oh God, Hutch. Please be okay," Starsky said through clenched teeth. He worked to free his foot, the movement causing so much pain he clenched his teeth and hissed. The foot finally free from the flooring, Starsky crawled the rest of the way to Hutch's side. The palms of his hands ground into the broken glass and debris but Starsky didn't even feel it as he shoved some of their bags out of the way until he finally could see his best friend's face. Hutch's eyes were closed, his mouth hung open and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh my God, Hutch – no!" Starsky reached out with a shaking hand and felt for a pulse in Hutch's neck. Starsky fumbled, not feeling anything then let out a sob as he finally felt a strong beat beneath his fingers. "Thank you, thank you," he whispered over and over as he quickly felt each of Hutch's limbs before straightening them. He watched Hutch's face carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort. There was none and Starsky wasn't sure if he was relieved for that or scared to death. A little bit of both, he thought to himself. When he carefully moved Hutch's right leg, Starsky heard a moan and his head snapped up to Hutch before he realized the noise came from behind him. He had completely forgotten about Patricia and Bake.

Leaning close to Hutch's ear, Starsky whispered sternly, "I'll be right back, Blondie. Don't you dare go anywhere, ya hear me?"

Pushing to his feet, Starsky grabbed onto anything he could to help him maneuver on his aching and swelling foot. He saw Patricia's head begin to rock back and forth as she moaned. "Bake? Bake, what's going on?"

Starsky knelt down next to her and brushed the hair from her face. He gasped at the large gash on her forehead. Blood trickled down into her eye. Starsky pulled open a compartment and found some napkins. He pressed them to the wound and she jumped in pain. "Patricia, can you hear me? It's Dave. Dave Starsky. Can you open your eyes, Hun?" Starsky careful slid Patricia up so that she was upright on the seat. "Come on, time to wake up."

Patricia's eyes fluttered open and stared blankly for a minute until they were slowly filled with pain and she groaned.

"There ya go. That's good. Where do ya hurt, Patricia?" Starsky grabbed hold of her hand as it reached up toward her bleeding forehead. "Yeah, you have cut up there. Bet that hurts like hell, right?"

"Yes," Patricia moaned.

"Good, talking is good. Okay, does anything else hurt? I mean real bad? I know I hurt everywhere." He forced a smile as her eyes focused on him for a moment then looked beyond him to see the gaping hole where her husband had just been sitting.

Patricia bolted upright. "Bake! No!"

Starsky tried to calm her. He brushed her hair away from her face again with his free hand.

"Shh, Patricia. I need you to stay still or you're gonna hurt yourself more."

"Where is he? Where's Bake?"

"Listen to me. If you promise to be still, I'll go out right now and find him. Can you do that for me?" As Patricia nodded in agreement, Starsky glanced back at Hutch's still figure. His heart was in his throat but he knew he had to go see if Bake was still alive. "Okay. Hold this on your head right here. Don't move."

"Thank you, Dave," Patricia said so sadly that Starsky's heart broke.

With one last glance toward Hutch, Starsky scooted over to the open doorway and lowered himself to the ground next to his toppled plane seat. He knew he couldn't get far without something to support him so his eyes scanned the forest floor until they landed on a sturdy green branch near the torn wing. He picked it up and pulled the smaller branches away until he had something he could grasp. Slowly he hobbled around the nose of the plane in search of their missing pilot. There was no sign of Bake on the port side of the crumpled aircraft so he took in a breath and continued on toward the tail of the plane. Smelling fuel again, Starsky glanced back to make sure there were no sparks or smoke coming from the engine. Satisfied they were safe, he moved on.

Starsky grabbed onto the wing as he passed. The makeshift cane was helping but his foot was throbbing mercilessly. A bead of sweat slid down the bridge of his nose. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. As he reached the end of the plane, Starsky spotted something white in the broken underbrush. Taking a few more steps forward, Starsky gasped at what he saw. He turned away, putting his hand to his mouth as his stomach lurched. He knew without going any closer that Rick Baker did not survive.

Starsky took in a few gulps of air to calm his stomach as he glanced around on the ground. He spotted a gray and white striped blanket protruding from a large canvas bag. Unzipping the bag, he fished around and found three more blankets and a small first aid kit. Stuffing everything but one of the blankets back into the bag, he stood back up and headed toward Bake again. As he got closer, Starsky unfolded the blanket and held it out in front of him then solemnly dropped it onto the hunched figure on the ground. Dark blood began to immediately seep through the cloth. Starsky turned as quickly as he could, scooped up the bag of supplies and his crutch and hobbled back to Hutch and Patricia.

As he reached the doorway of the plane, Starsky leaned his stick against the outside of the fuselage and pulled himself up. He looked back at Hutch and watched for signs of movement but there were still none. He knew he needed to deal with Patricia first and moved to her side. Patricia heard him approach and turned to face him.

"Patricia…I'm sorry."

"No. No, he can't be gone. Not my Bake." Her face collapsed into unfathomable grief and a single sob escaped her lips. "No, please no."

Starsky reached and took her hand in his. "I'm so sorry." He smoothed her hair and waited as she silently sobbed. After a moment, he took hold of her chin and turned it toward him. "Hun, I need to go see about Hutch. Are you going to be okay for a minute here?"

Patricia gave a strong nod and Starsky smiled sadly at her. "You're an amazin' woman, you know that? You're gonna be okay. We'll all be okay." Patricia nodded at him as he pushed himself up and made his way to the back of the plane. Before he reached Hutch's side, Starsky heard him cough.

"Hutch? Hutch are you awake? Buddy?" Starsky sat down next to Hutch and brushed away blond tendrils from Hutch's face as he cough again. Starsky studied Hutch's face and saw a sheen of sweat pop out on his upper lip and along his hairline. "Aw, Hutch, not a fever? Not that, Blondie."

Starsky rested the back of his fingers on Hutch's cheek and then his forehead. Hutch leaned toward the touch. "Can you open those baby blues for me, Pal?"

Hutch's brow creased then his eyelids slid open. "Starsk?"

Starsky broke out in a genuine grin. "There you are. I've missed ya."

Hutch coughed again and grimaced in pain. "Unh, my side. Hurts. Why…what?"

Starsky saw Hutch's left arm cradle his side. As he spoke, he moved Hutch's arm to the side and opened his shirt. "We had a little accident. Remember we were going skiing?"

"Ski?"

Starsky quickly unbuttoned Hutch's flannel shirt and immediately saw the dark purple bruising along his flank and up under his arm. "Yeah. We didn't quite make it there." He gently touched the bruises but stopped when Hutch pulled away with a yelp. "Okay, I won't do that again. I think you may have busted some ribs, Blondie." Hutch coughed roughly then pulled his arm back into his side as the movement made his ribs pull and burn.

Starsky leaned back on his heels and ran a hand through his hair. "I need to get you out of here." He turned back toward the cockpit and looked for the radio but all he saw were torn wires. Patricia was watching him.

"How is he, Dave?"

Starsky glanced back at Hutch who seemed to be only semi-conscious. "Not good. He's busted up pretty bad and I think he's spiked a fever."

"Fever?"

Starsky stood up as much as he could under the low ceiling. "He said he was coming down with a cold yesterday. I don't think it was just a cold."

"Oh no," Patricia breathed out. She unbuckled herself and twisted around to leave her seat. Starsky moved forward as quickly as he could on his aching foot.

"Hey, hey. Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm okay." She pointed toward her forehead. "The bleeding is slowing. If I can find something to wrap around my head, I'll be just fine despite this headache from hell."

Starsky put his hand on her shoulder. "I can handle this."

"Alone? Like hell you can. Look, I'm not some wilting flower, detective. I've been in plenty of binds before. Not like this but…" Her anger quickly dissipated. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"I don't want to hear any apologies, okay?" Starsky tried to smile. Patricia returned it wanly and nodded silently before looking at her watch.

"Busted. What time ya got?"

Starsky looked at his watch "One thirty."

"Wow, we were out a long time. I think we should get Ken out of the plane and somewhere more comfortable. How's the ankle?"

"I'm okay. Just a little slow. Don't you think he'd be warmer inside, though?"

"No way. We can get a fire going and he'll be warmer once he gets off that cold metal. I'm more mobile so see if you can gather him up and I'll find a spot to put him."

"Yes, ma'am."

Patricia surveyed the path of Hutch's tumble to the back of the plane. "Looks like his seat broke loose so grab it if you can." Getting out of the plane, she pulled roughly on the cushions of Starsky's chair until they came loose in her hands.

"I found some blankets and a first aid kit." Starsky pointed to the bag near her feet. "And Patricia…"

She looked up as she hoisted the bag onto her shoulder. "Don't go past the tail of the plane." Starsky's somber expression made her realize exactly what he was saying. Patricia glanced sadly to her left then dropped her head. When she looked up at Starsky, her eyes were brimming with tears. Without a word she turned and walked away. Starsky let out a sigh and went back to Hutch.

Starsky ran a hand along Hutch's cheek and heard a low moan. "Hutch? Hutch, Buddy. We have to move you. Can you wake up for me?"

"Tired."

"I know you're tired. But I'm going to move you to a nice cushy spot." Starsky started to carefully push the seat behind Hutch back. The movement caused Hutch to flinch. "I'm sorry. I'm going as slow as I can."

The seat finally free, Starsky carefully lifted it above Hutch then turned and tossed it out onto the ground outside the plane. Starsky slowly buttoned Hutch's shirt back up then slid his arms beneath his friend's. "Alley Oop." Starsky grunted with the effort of sitting Hutch up. He stopped as Hutch screamed out. "Okay, okay, shhh. It will only hurt for a few minutes. I promise." Starsky could feel the heat of the Hutch's fever through his shirt. Keeping hold under Hutch's arms, Starsky stood up and bit back his own groan as his weight landed on his bad foot. With another grunt, he had Hutch on his feet and walked backward toward the doorway, keeping the blond's head on his shoulder.

By the time Starsky got Hutch onto the ground, they were both drenched in sweat. Starsky spotted his duffle bag amongst the wreckage and tossed it over his shoulder as he passed. Patricia saw them coming and went to help get Hutch down onto the ground.

"Careful of those ribs," Starsky warned. By now most of his best friend's weight was on Starsky as Hutch's strength was waning. "Okay, Buddy, easy now." With Patricia's help, Hutch was soon on the ground. Starsky wrapped a blanket around his partner and tucked it around him. He then eased Hutch back against the cushions Patricia had set up along a fallen log. Starsky surveyed the area. Beneath them was a thick tarp and pieces of broken fuselage were propped on either side to act as a wind breaks. Starsky shook his head in amazement.

"How on earth did you put this together so fast?"

Patricia placed her hands on her hips and looked around. She shrugged. "I don't know. Just doing what needs to be done. I'm going to gather some wood for a fire."

Starsky reached out with his left hand, not letting go of his contact with Hutch with his right. "Hey, why don't you take a break? Let me change that bandage for you." Patricia's makeshift bandage on her forehead had already soaked through. She touched it and studied her wet fingers.

"I can do that when I get back with the wood." As she turned to go she called over her shoulder, "There's water in that canteen near your elbow."

Starsky chuckled in amusement at the woman and picked up the canteen. He slid his arm from behind Hutch and settled him against the cushions. Unscrewing the canteen's top, he tipped it against Hutch's lips. "Can you drink a little for me, Pal? Hutch?"

Hutch stirred as he felt the cold metal against his mouth. He opened his mouth slightly and Starsky dribbled some water into his mouth. Hutch swallowed then gasped.

"You okay?" Starsky asked, worried. Hutch answered with a rough cough and a groan. "Take it easy, Buddy. I'm going to go for help."

"Like hell you are," Patricia's voice startled Starsky as she stepped around the log.

"We can't just sit here."

Patricia dropped the logs and branches she was carrying with one hand then came over to Starsky. She had a dripping wet t-shirt in her other hand. "Found a stream nearby." She wrapped the cold water-soaked shirt around Starsky's swollen foot. He hissed and grabbed a fistful of earth as he stifled a groan. Patricia looked up at him and smiled slightly. "Exactly – you ain't going anywhere with that foot like that." She put a hand up in to stop Starsky's expected protest. "It is getting too late now anyway. We will stay here tonight and I'll hike out in the morning. Uh uh," she said as Starsky began to speak. "No argument, Dave. You know I'm in the best shape." She reached up and pulled the wrapping from her head and opened the first aid kit to get more bandages. "I don't think there is much in here to help Ken. Here's some Tylenol. You should take that, it may help a bit." Hutch started to cough sharply, his eyes pinched shut in agony. "Kenny, did you bring some medicine for your cold?"

Starsky looked quickly from Hutch to Patricia. "I didn't even think of that." He looked back at Hutch. "Hey, Blondie. Did you happen to bring something for that cough?"

Hutch opened his eyes and looked around. "Uh, yeah, I put something in my bag."

"I'm on it," Patricia said as she dropped the bandage materials back into the kit and spun around toward the downed plane as Hutch began to cough again.

"Unh, Starsk…you okay?"

"Me? Don't I look okay?" Starsky answered with a smile as Hutch began to shiver. He pulled the blanket tighter around his friend. Hutch glanced down at Starsky's wrapped foot. "Hey, don't pay any attention to that." When Hutch shivered again, Starsky sidled up next to him and wrapped his right arm around Hutch's shoulder, pulling him gently closer. Hutch's head dropped onto Starsky's shoulder as Starsky briskly rubbed his other arm trying to warm his friend.

Patricia returned with Hutch's bag and found his cough and cold medicine. "Not the best but it may help a bit. It also has something in it for pain which will help reduce that fever." Starsky managed to get a capful into Hutch's mouth and then gave him another sip of water. He smiled as Patricia handed him two Tylenol. He dropped those in his mouth and followed it with a gulp of water.

"Make sure you take some yourself. And drink something." Starsky looked over at his bag next to him. "Hey, you know what I have?" He pulled out the two blintzes left from that morning. "Dinner!"

"Sounds good, thank you." Patricia pulled off half of a blueberry blintz and took a bite before getting started on the fire.

"I can help do that much," Starsky said to her as he tried to coax a bite of food into Hutch who only pushed it away.

"No need. Your job is to keep him comfortable and you are doing a mighty fine job of it. You know, I think I do see a bit of that halo above your head." She winked.

"Ha, maybe but I think it must be a little tarnished."

"It is a bit askew, too. It's quite jaunty, actually."

Starsky chuckled quietly trying not to jostle Hutch beside him. The Tylenol began to work and he dozed off with his head resting on Hutch's blond locks.

~S&H~

It was almost dark when Starsky awoke. He saw Patricia sitting on the far side of the fire, staring into the flames. She wiped a tear from her eye. Hutch stirred, coughing a few times and Patricia looked up. She saw Starsky shifting uncomfortably so she got up and went to him.

"Why don't you lay him down and stretch your legs."

"Yeah, okay." Starsky slid Hutch down onto the ground with Patricia's help. He placed his duffle bag under his head as a pillow then covered him with the blanket. He took a second one and put that over Hutch too.

"It's getting colder; you'll need that for yourself. I haven't found the gear bag with our ski jackets. It got dark before I could look."

"I'm fine," Starsky said. "I've gotta take a…walk. I'll grab some more wood for the fire." He smiled at Patricia and picked up his homemade walking stick that magically appeared at his side. Starsky walked away and relieved himself then began gathering wood from the forest floor. When he returned to the campsite, he found Patricia bent over a thrashing Hutch.

"What's wrong?" Starsky quickly dropped the wood and bent down next to Hutch.

"His fever is spiking. I managed to get some more medication into him but he's freezing."

Starsky started to take off his shirt. "Grab those scissors from the first aid kit, would ya?" Once Starsky had his t-shirt off and was down to bare skin, he carefully rolled Hutch onto his good side and sliced his shirt up the back with the scissors. He took it off and tossed it aside. Pat watched him, nodding slowly.

Starsky pulled the blanket from under Hutch and put it behind his own back before sitting down with his legs straddling his best friend. He put his hands under Hutch's arms and slowly pulled him up towards him until Hutch was resting against Starsky's bare chest. He then wrapped the blanket around them both. Patricia picked up the second blanket and laid it across both men, tucking it underneath Starsky's back and legs.

"Thank you, Hun."

"It's a good idea, Angel." She winked at Starsky again and went to stoke the fire. "Did you eat anything?"

"Uh…no, I guess I didn't." Starsky smiled sheepishly.

Patricia finished getting the fire burning brightly then came over to Starsky and pulled a piece of the cheese blintze from the wrapper. She held it up to him. Starsky started to free his hand from the blankets but she placed her free hand over his. "No, don't move. He's starting to warm up."

Starsky looked at the proffered treat and smiled shyly. He took a bite. "Thanks, Beautiful."

"Single only a few hours and already I have the men after me."

Starsky stopped chewing and his eyes misted over. Patricia patted his shoulder and shook her head. "Don't go doing that. Plenty of time for tears later. We have work to do." She put another bite of food up to Starsky's mouth and he took it.

~S&H~

The night passed slowly as Hutch became delirious with fever and began to wheeze as he coughed. "Sounds like pneumonia is settling in," Patricia said somberly.

"Aw, Hutch, hang in there," Starsky said as he tried to get some liquid into his best friend.

"You warm enough?" Patricia asked.

"Don't worry about me; he's keeping me warm. What about you?"

"Just fine. I'm thick blooded," she said with a grin.

"Hey, I've been told I'm thick headed. Nice to meet ya," Starsky said with a wink and they shared a laugh until Hutch's wracking cough brought them back to reality.

"I know you must be uncomfortable but having him propped up like that is the best thing right now."

"Don't worry about me. And actually my legs fell asleep which stopped my foot from hurting."

"A win-win situation, right?"

Starsky chuckled again, "I guess so." He studied Patricia as she worked at keeping the fire going. He marveled at her strength and tenacity and remembered how Hutch had called her a 'pistol.' Hutch began to flail so Starsky wrapped his arms around him under the blankets.

"It's okay, Hutch. It's okay, Buddy, shhh. When Hutch calmed down, Starsky slid his hand up through the blanket and rested his hand across Hutch's forehead, pushing it back against his shoulder. "I'm right here. Can you feel me, Pal?"

"I'm hot." Hutch tried to push the covers off.

"No, don't do that, Hutch. Gotta keep those on."

Patricia held the canteen to Hutch's lips while Starsky held his head still. Hutch took in the cool water and settled down. Patricia opened the blankets a bit at Hutch's neck. "Let him cool back down now. If he starts to shiver again, I'll close this back up."

"You really are amazing, Patricia."

She swatted the comment away with her hand. "Oh, stop it." She smiled then grew more serious as she looked up into the sky. "As soon as first light shows, I'll head out. They'll be looking for us. I need to find a clearing. I don't see the flares in the wreckage but I'll take Bake's favorite shirt." She paused and swallowed hard before continuing. "He loved that old neon-yellow thing. I hated it." She forced a smile at Starsky and he tried to smile back. "He's calm now. Try to get some sleep before the chills start up again."

Starsky nodded, closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

~S&H~

Starsky woke up to the sounds of Patricia moving around near him. He looked up and saw the first blue of morning through the trees. "G'morning."

"How is he doing?" Patricia asked motioning her head toward the man in Starsky's arms.

"He's so still," Starsky said, his heart quickening.

"His color is bad," Patricia said as she continued to gather her things. "I'm leaving now. The water is directly to your left. His medicine and the Tylenol are there too. I put a wet cloth on your right if you want to wipe him down."

"Patricia, I can't tell you how much it means to me…"

"No soapy scenes, Dave." Starsky grinned tiredly.

"That's my line."

"No kidding. Anyway, I can't let anything happen to your brother from another mother."

"My what?"

Patricia didn't say anything but just winked and walked into the trees and disappeared.

Starsky made sure the blankets were wrapped tightly around his best friend…his brother. He smiled as he looked at the tree line where Patricia had gone. "You were right about her, Buddy." Starsky looked down to see any sign of consciousness in Hutch but only saw a tint of blue around his lax mouth. "Please hang on. I don't want to lose you. Please hold on." Starsky wrapped his arms around Hutch beneath the blankets and rocked slowly back and forth as he buried his face in the blond's hair. He choked on a sob as he thought about Bake's body lying not far away. "I'm sorry about your friend," he whispered.

~S&H~

An hour later, Starsky's head popped up as he heard the distant sound of a helicopter above him. He looked up but didn't see anything. Carefully sliding out from under Hutch, he propped a cushion and a duffle bag behind him then wrapped him again with the blankets. He grabbed his shirt and put it on as he waited for circulation to return to his lower half. He wasn't sure he could even walk yet. As the blood – and the pain – rushed into his broken foot, his gritted his teeth and grabbed onto his walking stick. He moved to the fire pit and stoked the embers trying to cause some smoke to rise above the trees. Looking around, he grabbed some dry leaves and tossed them in and blew on the small flames. Smoke began to rise.

"Come on, come on!"

"Detective Starsky?" A distant voice called out. Starsky's head snapped up.

Looking back at Hutch's still figure, Starsky said with a smile, "Hear that, Buddy? They found us!" For a moment Starsky hoped they had also found Patricia but then laughed. "Of course it was because of her they came, right?" He smiled then called back to the disembodied voice.

A few minutes later, he spotted the bright jackets of the rescue men down the slope. "Here! Over here!" Hutch stirred at his feet and began to cough and moan. Starsky stooped down. "Just a little while more, Hutch. Help is here." Hutch's eyes fluttered open and scanned around before locking on Starsky.

"You okay?"

"Would ya quit asking me that? Now don't go anywhere. I'm going to run and meet up with them."

"No…running."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Starsky said as he hobbled down toward the approaching men.

"Detective Starsky? I'm John Brown. Are you all right?" The man at the lead asked.

"That's me. I'm fine. My partner is sick – over here. Did you find Patricia Baker?"

"More like she found us," Brown said with a smirk. He turned toward the men coming up behind him. "Up here."

Starsky smiled thinking about Patricia then went back to Hutch's side. The rescue men put down their stretcher filled with gear and pulled the blankets away from Hutch. One took his pulse while the other readied a blood pressure cuff. As the cool air hit Hutch's bare chest, he stirred and began to fight off the strangers. Starsky knelt down beside him.

"Hey, Hutch. I'm right here. Let them do their work, okay?" He took the blanket and pulled it up a bit to cover Hutch's abdomen. "You're gonna feel better real soon."

One of the medics listened to Hutch's chest then glanced over at his partner. "We better get him out of here quick."

"I agree," the other medic said as he read the thermometer he took out from Hutch's underarm.

Starsky watched them carefully. "He's gonna be okay, right?"

"He seems strong and luckily these cracked ribs are not too bad. They could have broken and punctured a lung. You've taken good care of him. Don't worry."

After radioing Hutch's vitals, they established an I.V and then quickly bundled Hutch onto the stretcher. A second one was brought up for Starsky who tried to refuse the help. He brushed away the blood pressure cuff. "I'm fine, I said."

"Hey," Brown said calmly, "If you try to walk out, you will only be holding up Detective Hutchinson's rescue." Starsky thought about what he had been told then nodded. Brown turned to the other medics. "Okay, our next patient is ready for his ride." After doing a quick assessment on Starsky they helped him to the waiting stretcher. He refused the I.V. and was happy he didn't get much of a fight.

Starsky laid back on the stretcher and looked around the plane crash site. A blanket was put over him and he was secured to the device. As they lifted him up, one of the medics said, "We have a team coming to take Mr. Baker off the mountain."

"Thank you," Starsky said sadly.

"That was pretty ingenious of you," the medic said as he started to follow Hutch's stretcher.

"What do you mean?" Starsky asked. He saw the medic motion to his right with his head.

"The way you got him off the ground like that. You probably would have had problems with scavengers otherwise."

Starsky followed the medic's gaze and saw a blue tarp hanging from ropes in the trees. A bit of gray and white striped blanket could be seen poking out at the top. Starsky's heart leapt into his throat at the thought of Patricia securing her husband's body that way.

The steady walk out of the forest lulled Starsky and he dozed on and off until they reached a clearing where the helicopter was waiting.

"Is Patricia here?" Starsky asked, looking up at his rescuer.

"No, they already air lifted her out since she had a pretty bad concussion."

"Oh, man," Starsky whispered, instantly worried about his new friend. He watched as Hutch's stretcher was placed on a gurney and loaded into the helicopter. "I'd like to sit up," Starsky said as he saw another gurney headed his way.

"Sir, we'd feel a lot better if you rested during the trip to the hospital. You are pretty banged up and should keep that foot elevated."

Starsky shook his head, "No. Let me up." Brown, the senior medic nodded at the others and they unstrapped Starsky after bringing his stretcher to the door of the helicopter. "Thank you," Starsky said and smiled. He climbed into the cabin and slid down the bench until he was as close to Hutch's head as he could get without being in the way of the paramedics attending to him.

Hutch's face was partially covered by an oxygen mask. Starsky was happy to see the blue around his lips had faded. With some direction from the pilot, they were soon on their way into the sky. Hutch woke up as the mechanical bird lifted them into the air. His eyes darted around nervously. Starsky couldn't hear above the sound of the helicopter but he saw Brown calmly speaking to Hutch. Starsky took hold of Hutch's hand and rubbed his thumb along the back of it. Hutch recognized the familiar touch and gave a squeeze to Starsky's hand then relaxed.

Pleased that Hutch had calmed down, Brown sat down next to Starsky. It was then he noticed Hutch's hand in Starsky's. He smiled. "How long have you two been partners?"

"About seven years," Starsky said loud enough to be heard above the din inside the cabin.

Brown looked up at his partner who was checking the drip on Hutch's I.V. "Doug and I have been together almost five. He's pulled my butt out of the fire – literally at times – more than I care to count."

Starsky nodded as he looked back and forth between the paramedics. "Nothing like it except maybe marriage – or so I hear."

"Ha, no kidding. I was married for a minute. She couldn't take it…my job I mean. All the worrying, the not knowing."

"Sorry about that. Ya have to believe there is someone out there for people like us. Someone strong…like Patricia Baker."

Brown smiled. "Man, she did not want to let us send her to the hospital first. If I had a crack on the head like that, I'd probably be in bed for a week."

"Not her!"

"Nope." Brown saw Starsky's smile fade. "We'll be landing in just a minute or two. You'll see her soon."

Starsky looked up, surprised that the man had known his thoughts. "Thanks. And meanwhile, until you find that special someone just make sure you guys have fun." He saw Doug smiling over at them, obviously catching bits of their conversation.

"We do, sir, we do."

"It's Dave." Starsky put out his hand and shook Brown's.

"Call me JB."

"Okay, JB it is." Starsky leaned over and shook Doug's hand then looked down at Hutch's sleeping face and continued rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

When the rotorcraft landed, Hutch's limp hand grabbed tight to Starsky's but his eyes remained closed. The doors opened and within seconds, the medics and hospital staff had Hutch out of the vehicle and headed into the hospital. An orderly stood by with a wheelchair and waited for Starsky.

"That for me?"

"Yes, sir."

Starsky slid down from the helicopter then turned and sat in the chair. "The name's Dave. Now get me in there with my partner."

Starsky saw a crowd of people running in and out of a room at the end of the emergency room hall. The orderly turned into a curtained-off cubicle where a nurse was waiting. "Hey hey. I need to see my partner." Starsky grabbed onto the wheels of the chair and tried to maneuver himself back into the hall but a white-shoed foot pushed down on the brake. Starsky looked up and saw a pretty but stern face glaring down at him.

"I've got it from here, Bobby," she said to the orderly. "Now, where do you think you're going?" Starsky opened his mouth but she cut him off. "Well, forget it. Not get your pasty backside up on this table." Starsky began to speak again but stopped as a johnny was dropped into his lap. "And take off those smelly clothes. Put this on. I've smelled wrestlers after a match that were sweeter than you, Honey."

Starsky once again started to speak as JB and Doug came by. "There you are, Dave." As the nurse turned away, JB rolled his eyes at her then made a growling expression almost making Starsky laugh. "Take care of yourself. There isn't any room down there for you anyway. Besides, he's doing well. Awake and asking if you are okay."

Starsky relaxed and let out a chuckle. "Thanks, JB. Thank you both for everything."

"Our pleasure. We'll check back when we can, okay?" JB looked over at the nurse. "Julie, you take care of our boy here." He laughed as the woman just clucked her tongue and then began to shoo the medics away. "And make sure you find out how Patricia Baker is doing. She's Dave and Ken's friend." He stumbled as the nurse pushed him from the cubicle and snapped the curtain shut. Starsky heard JB mumble an insult under his breath and laughed.

"I thought I told you to take your clothes off," Nurse Julie snapped.

"Yes ma'am," Starsky said quietly as he quickly undid his buttons.

"Everything off – and I mean everything." She eyed Starsky up and down making him uncomfortable. "I'll be back in one point five minutes. I want you in that gown and lying down or there will be hell to pay."

"Yes ma'am."

Once the nurse had left, Starsky quickly pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. He almost lost his balance as he tried to remove his pants without putting weight on his bad foot. He stuffed his arms through the sleeves of the gown and hopped back onto the gurney and laid down just as Nurse Julie returned. He let out a sigh of relief when she smiled at him.

"That's better." Taking down a blood pressure cuff, she began to take his vitals. "How's the pain in your foot?"

"Not bad as long as I don't put weight on it."

"I know you refused an I.V. Are you sure the pain is manageable or are you just being a macho cop?"

Starsky grinned. "I'm sure."

"What about the rest of you? What else hurts?"

"Nuthin'." Nurse Julie glared at him from under her thick false eyelashes. "Well, I hurt all over but that's to be expected."

"Oh, now you are a medical man."

"No," Starsky replied meekly.

"Okay," she answered with a sweet smile that threw Starsky off guard. "Dr. Macleod is going to be in here as soon as she can. You just close your eyes and try to get some rest. You've been through a lot. And before you ask…yes, I'll go check on your partner and Mrs. Baker." She patted Starsky on the shoulder as she dimmed the overhead light above the bed. She draped a sheet and a warm blanket over Starsky's legs and left.

Starsky let out a breath and ran his hand through is hair. He listened to the hustle and bustle out in the hall trying to pick up bits of conversation about Hutch. Things calmed down, footsteps were less hurried. Somewhere he heard two people share a laugh. No running, no alarms, everything was okay. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when a woman doctor came into his cube with Nurse Julie by her side.

"Hello, Sergeant, I'm Dr. Macleod. How are you feeling?"

"How's my partner?"

The two women shared a knowing glance before the doctor answered. "Sergeant Hutchinson is doing fairly well. He has double pneumonia but we caught it early. He's on strong I.V. antibiotics. We've x-rayed his chest and he has two small cracks on the left side. Nothing needs to be done but unfortunately he will have to be given some strong pain killers due to the pneumonia." Starsky looked worried. "I've pulled his medical history, nothing to be concerned about." She looked at Starsky pointedly until he nodded his understanding. "He'll be taken upstairs to a regular room." She smiled as Starsky's countenance brightened at that news. "We'll get you set up in the same room."

"Me?"

"You most likely have a broken foot and you are suffering from bruises, contusions and a bit of exposure." She braced herself for an argument but didn't get one. Starsky was just happy to be put in the same room as Hutch, as she suspected he would be. "As for Mrs. Baker, she's resting comfortably and has asked about you and your partner repeatedly."

Starsky smiled. "She's gonna be okay?"

Dr. Macleod nodded. "Yes. You are all very lucky." She saw a dark cloud pass through Starsky's eyes. "I'm sorry your friend didn't make it, though."

Starsky nodded. "Thanks."

Dr. Macleod nodded at the nurse who took a syringe from a tray she was holding.

"What's that?"

"We'll be bringing you down to x-ray soon. This will help make you more comfortable."

The nurse came to his side and looked into his eyes. "You aren't going to argue with a doctor, are you?"

"No, ma'am."

~S&H~

Starsky drifted in and out of sleep while waiting to be taken to radiology. Once he was back in his cubicle, he fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake up until he heard a voice whispering his name.

"Wake up, Sergeant Starsky. We need you to move over to the bed."

Starsky opened his eyes and saw a young nurse and two orderlies standing around him. He realized he was no longer in the emergency room and looked over to see Hutch sleeping a bed nearby. The blankets were taken off of him and he scooted from the gurney to the bed and waited patiently while the nurse busied herself getting him settled.

She handed him the call button. "My name is Deb. I'm sure you know what to do with this." Starsky nodded. "Good. I'll be back in an hour to give you more pain medication if you need it. You can always ask Sergeant Hutchinson's nurses for anything too. They will be in more frequently. I want you to get as much sleep as you can. It's time to start mending that broken bone." She took a pillow from a closet and slipped it under Starsky's foot. "Once that swelling goes down, you'll get a cast but it will heal quickly, as long as you take care of yourself."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

She smiled sweetly as she gave a final tuck of his covers. "Call me Deb. Goodnight."

Starsky watched her switch off the overhead light. Just a dim light next to each bed remained. It was enough light to see, though. Starsky pulled at the covers and put his good foot on the floor then used the bedside table to hobble to Hutch's side. He stood and watched Hutch's breathing, not happy with the way he sounded but knowing it was better than that morning.

He reached down and took Hutch's hand in his as he had on the helicopter. A slight tinge of fever heat could be felt. Starsky didn't speak, afraid of disturbing his best friend. He watched the monitor trace out Hutch's heartbeat. He studied the numbers and tried to make sense of it all. With a sigh he went to let go of Hutch's hand but stopped as he felt a squeeze. He looked at Hutch's face and saw slivers of blue beneath golden eyelashes.

"Hey, Buddy," Starsky whispered.

"Starsky?"

"Yeah, it's me. We're roommates, how 'bout that?"

Hutch looked around the room and saw Starsky's empty bed. His brow creased. "Sleep."

"You go back to sleep, yeah."

"No," Hutch said hoarsely. "You."

Starsky grinned. "Okay, okay. You sound like the ER nurse for cripes sake." Starsky studied Hutch and took in the dry cracked lips, the dark circles under his eyes. "You need anything?"

Hutch held Starsky's hand tighter. "Got what I need right here."

Starsky grinned then reached to brush sweat-drenched hair from Hutch's forehead. "Me too, Pal."

"Bake," Hutch said. It was just a whisper and Starsky's gut clenched but when Hutch's eyes started to glisten with tears, he realized he wouldn't have to explain.

"I'm sorry." It seemed like so little but it was all he could think to say.

"Me too." Hutch's eyes drifted shut. Starsky tucked Hutch's hand beneath his blanket then hobbled back to his bed and got comfortable. "G'night, Hutch."

Hutch didn't answer, he was already asleep.

~S&H~

The next morning, Starsky took a few bites of his breakfast then went to Hutch's side to try to get some broth into the blond but Hutch turned his head away.

"Come on, Hutch. You need this to get your strength back."

"No, take it away," Hutch said tiredly.

Starsky sighed. "You have to at least get some juice into you." Starsky dropped a straw into a glass of apple juice. "Here you go."

Hutch opened his eyes and looked down at the glass. "Ugh, apple?"

"Well, I asked for orange but they said it was too acidy…or something like that. C'mon, Hutch please?" Starsky pleaded.

"Heck, I wouldn't want it either if you whined at me like that."

Starsky turned to find Patricia standing in the doorway. Her head was heavily bandaged and the eye below was bruised purple.

"Patricia – are you supposed to be out of bed?"

Patricia stuck her hands into the pockets of her robe and sauntered in. She looked down at Starsky's wrapped ankle. "I could ask you the same thing, Angel. Now what's going on here?"

"Patricia…I'm so sorry…sorry about…Bake," Hutch stuttered.

"Aw, I know, Honey." She wiped away a tear. "But life goes on. And you need to get better."

"He won't eat the broth or drink the juice."

Patricia leaned over and peered into the bowl of cloudy brown broth. "Can you blame him? Hang on a few minutes."

Starsky watched her disappear into the hall then looked over at a drowsy Hutch. "She's an amazing person."

Hutch nodded. "She sure is. She was Bake's whole world – and he was hers." He coughed and tried to push himself up. Starsky rearranged the pillows behind Hutch and he leaned back again. "Thanks."

"She's strong. She'll be all right," Starsky said hopefully.

"I think so. I know she has a sister and some nieces and a nephew." Hutch started to shift in the bed again and Starsky wasn't sure what to do.

"Why don't you go back to sleep."

Hutch pushed the tray with the broth and juice away so hard the broth sloshed out of the bowl. "I don't want to sleep," he snapped and threw his arm over his eyes.

Starsky fiddled with the edge of Hutch's blanket wondering if he should suggest turning on the television but he didn't think that would be well received either. Patricia came back into the room with something in her hands.

"Okay, Angel Boy. Back in bed." She placed an ice cream sundae on Starsky's tray table and winked at him as she moved to Hutch's bed. In her other hand was a bowl of plain vanilla ice cream. "Here, Kenny, try this."

Hutch pulled his arm away from his eyes and looked down at the spoonful of ice cream Patricia held out to him. He glanced over at Starsky who had sat down in his own bed and was smiling at his treat. Hutch slowly smiled and opened his mouth. The ice cream melted down his sore throat. He let out a pleased Mmm.

"Good, isn't it?" Patricia said with a grin.

Starsky ate his ice cream and watched Patricia feed Hutch. A small part of him was jealous but mostly he was happy that Patricia had something positive to do at such a dark time and that Hutch was relaxed and eating. Hutch's eyes began to droop after a few bites so Patricia put the bowl aside. She pulled the covers up higher on Hutch's chest then brushed his hair off his forehead. After sitting quietly watching him sleep, she leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. She then came over to Starsky and kissed him on the cheek. She left the room without saying another word. Starsky blinked back a tear and laid back on the bed.

Hutch slept most of the day and through the night. The next morning Starsky was told he would be getting a cast for his foot and then be released. He was arguing with the doctor on why he should stay when Patricia came in.

"Please don't tell me you are actually asking to stay here, Angel."

Starsky colored with embarrassment. "I guess it does sound ridiculous."

"I know you, Davey. You just want to stay with Ken."

"Well…yeah."

The doctor let out a sharp breath. "I'll send someone to collect you for your cast and get your discharge papers started." He turned on his heel and left the room. Starsky made a face behind his back and Patricia laughed loudly.

"Well, I can pretty much guess if I came back here tonight you'd be camped out in this unused bed or in that corner chair if they put someone in here with Kenny." She didn't wait for a reply and sat next to Starsky on his bed. "How's he doing this morning?"

"Pretty good. He had some oatmeal and juice this morning. I heard the nurse promise him ice cream at lunch."

Patricia nodded and smiled. "Good, good." The smile faded. "I'm also being discharged today." She glanced over at Starsky who looked worried. "My sister is flying in. We'll stay overnight and fly back in the morning…with Bake's body."

Starsky clasped his hand behind Patricia's head and put his forehead to hers. They sat quietly for a moment then Patricia broke the embrace. "I never new how much grief felt like…fear."

"Fear?" Starsky asked softly.

"Yeah. It's hard to explain. It is sort of like when you love someone so much you are afraid that they will leave you – but in reverse." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense."

Hutch opened his eyes and looked over at Patricia. "To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die."

"Who said that, Kenny?"

"I think it was Thomas Campbell but I'm not certain."

"That's beautiful. My Bake will live forever then."

"He will. He had a lot of people that loved him. Me included."

Patricia slid down off Starsky's bed and went to Hutch. She pulled him into a hug. They held each other for a few minutes then Patricia grabbed some tissues off the bedside table and handed one to Hutch. After they each wiped their eyes and noses Patricia tossed the tissues into the trash and leaned a hip on Hutch's bed. "I've come to say goodbye, Kenny."

"I heard. I wish I could travel back with you. Make sure you are okay."

Patricia patted Hutch on the shoulder. "Yeah, but you know me. I'm a tough broad."

"It's okay not to be strong sometimes," Hutch said as he ran a finger down her cheek.

Patricia grabbed his hand and kissed it. "Please look me up when you are back home visiting, okay?"

"I will. I promise."

Patricia looked over at Starsky who was fighting back tears. She pulled another tissue from the box and handed it to him. "And bring Angel Boy with you," she said to Hutch over her shoulder then turned to smile at Starsky. "I'm gonna miss your face."

Starsky let out a snort of laughter as he wiped his nose. "And I'm gonna miss your mug too."

"I'd tell you to take care of my Kenny but I know I don't have to worry about him with you around."

"You bet your ass," Starsky said and grinned.

"That's my boy." Patricia blew a kiss to Hutch then left the room.

Epilogue

Five weeks later

"Are you doin' okay, Blondie?"

"Would ya quit asking me that, for pete's sake, Starsky."

"We can slow down if you want. Take a break."

"I'm a grown man. I will let you know if I need to rest. I'm fine just a little weak. My legs are like rubber bands after sitting around all that time. Feels good to be out in the fresh air."

"That's the spirit," Patricia said as she walked up behind them. She glanced down at the map in her hand. "Looks like it's just up ahead."

After another few minutes of hiking, Starsky saw Patricia slow and stop just up the hill. He looked over at Hutch who looked concerned too. Together they walked up to her and both their hearts skipped a beat as they looked at the area in front of them. The ground was torn up, trees had recently been cut away and tire tracks from a large vehicle scarred the landscape.

"I can almost still see it," Starsky said somberly.

"Me too," Patricia whispered. Hutch wrapped his arms around her.

"Are you okay, Sweetie?"

Patricia nodded then looked over at Starsky. He pulled off the backpack he was carrying and gently took out a large box. He looked at it sadly then handed it to Patricia.

Placing it carefully on the ground, Patricia slid the cover off and pulled out the container inside. She went further into the clearing made by the plane crash and pulled off the lid. "Well, Bake, here we are. I know we talked about this the last few weeks." She paused for a moment. "Yeah, I did all the talking, I know. But I think you tried to tell me this is what you wanted. You always loved the mountains and the forest. I think you'll be happy here. And I'll come back to see you some day. But you know you'll always be in my heart—not far away at all, right?"

Patricia slowly walked the area around where the plane had laid and sprinkled the ash from the container onto the ground as Starsky and Hutch watched sadly. When she was done, she replaced the container into the box and slid the wooden lid back on. Starsky placed it back into his pack.

Hutch took in a long breath then began to recite a poem.

What hallows ground where heroes sleep?
'Tis not the sculptured piles you heap!
In dews that heavens far distant weep
Their turf may bloom;
Or Genii twine beneath the deep
Their coral tomb.

But strew his ashes to the wind
Whose sword or voice has served mankind,—
And is he dead, whose glorious mind
Lifts thine on high?—
To live in hearts we leave behind
Is not to die."

The End

Note: The poem recited is the part of 'Hallowed Ground' by Thomas Campbell.