Without Him

Missing Scene from "A Coffin for Starsky". Scene begins just outside Janos's film studio as the detective duo walk back out onto Channing Avenue.

Hutch darted forward to catch his friend as Starsky's knees buckled.

"We should get you back to the hospital," he said, frowning in concern as Starsky's body convulsed with pain. It was becoming more and more frequent – they had barely walked the ten paces out to the car before the spasms had hit.

Starsky coughed, shaking his head weakly. "Not yet," he whispered. "Can't face-" His mouth clamped shut to hold back a scream as the agony seized him again.

Hutch tightened the embrace, wishing he could do more than provide comfort, wishing he could share his partner's pain or at least ease it slightly. The hospital could provide him with painkillers, but from what he had said it was clear that Starsky wasn't ready to go back. Hutch thought he understood why - he didn't want to face the reality that he was dying, and the cold white rooms would be a constant reminder.

"H-Hutch?" The blue eyes that looked up at him were wide and unfocused.

"I'm here, babe. It's okay," Hutch said reassuringly, but nature decided to prove him wrong; Starsky's breath caught and his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Starsk?!" Hutch asked, panicked, as he searched for a pulse. Not yet, he thought desperately. Oh God, not yet. They'd been given 24 hours, this shouldn't be happening-

His scrabbling fingers found the pulse at last, and Hutch sighed heavily. Unconscious. Starsky was just unconscious. Thank God.

It meant the pain was bad, though, Hutch reflected, growing anxious again. It was obvious that Starsky's body needed the break, and once again Hutch was tempted by the idea of the hospital.

'Can't face-' Starsky had said. Hutch wouldn't force him, he decided. If Starsky needed to rest then he could do it just as easily in his apartment. Besides, this could be the last time -

Hutch wrenched his mind away before he finished the thought. He wasn't going to go there, not yet.

"C'mon, bud," he muttered, shifting position and lifting Starsky into his arms before depositing him gently in the passenger seat of his car and moving around to the drivers side. Driving the Torino made him uncomfortable, more, he had to admit to himself as he started the engine, because the few occasions he did usually meant that Starsky was injured. Like now.

Starsky still hadn't woken by the time they reached the apartment block, so Hutch retrieved the key from Starsky's pocket and let them in himself. The two spent more time at his place, but Hutch still knew the flat like the back of his hand and headed straight for the bedroom.

"Hutch?" a faint voice whispered.

Hutch glanced down at the man in his arms, a feeling of hopelessness welling up inside him.

"Go back to sleep," he choked out. "I'm right here."

Starsky stiffened momentarily, holding Hutch's arm in a vice-like grip before relaxing as the spasm passed.

"'Kay," he mumbled, his eyes sliding shut.

Hutch settled on the bed, holding Starsky securely in his arms. A weary smile crossed his lips as he realised that it was always like this when one of them was injured or hurting. His mind drifted back to the withdrawal he had gone through after Monk and his associates had strung him out on heroin. Hutch couldn't remember much of it, but he did recall the solid, reassuring presence of his partner, the warm embrace that provided an anchor in the swirl of madness, the comforting knowledge that he wasn't going through it alone. And there had been many other occasions in the past where Starsky had stubbornly seen him through the rough patches and brought him out safely on the other side. They did it together - suffered, endured, worked through it, and healed. It was hard, sometimes, but Hutch wouldn't have it any other way.

Hutch didn't know how much time passed as he sat there, listening to the rhythmic sounds of Starsky's breathing and allowing his mind to drift aimlessly, but reality reasserted itself when he heard a break in the pattern. The slow, steady breaths had become shallower, more ragged.

"Starsky?" Hutch felt his partner stiffen, the muscles contracting, painfully he knew, and it sounded like it was beginning to affect his lungs. It passed after a few moments, but a dark realisation had crept into Hutch's mind.

He hadn't wanted to face it before, but all of a sudden it finally registered that Starsky was dying. It was only a matter of hours before the poison would take its toll, and his partner could be dead. The sun would rise the next morning as it always did, but everything would be different. Starsky would be gone. And it finally registered that he wouldn't be there to comfort Hutch. He would be hurting and, for the first time in years, he would be alone.

The tears that he had been holding back and denying for all he was worth ever since he had been told that Starsky might not make it began to spill down his cheeks. Horror and grief welled up inside him until they were all he could feel, drowning out everything else. Subconsciously he started rocking back and forth, moaning quietly in desolation.

I can't do this, he thought, not by myself. I just can't. They had been partners for so long, and had grown so close that it felt like they were two halves of the same person. By loosing Starsky he would be loosing a part of himself, and Hutch didn't think he could handle life without him. "I can't," he whispered.

Waking up was not the most pleasant experience for Starsky. With consciousness came a flood of memories and pain, reinforced by the onslaught of spasms that wracked his body and left him breathless. It was only when he relaxed again that he became aware that he was resting in the embrace of his partner – and that Hutch was shaking.

"Hutch?" Starsky asked quietly, shifting so he could face his friend.

Hutch didn't reply. His eyes were closed, tears squeezing out from under his eyelids and slipping down a trail of moisture on each cheek. He was crying.

His own discomfort immediately forgotten, Starsky turned properly so he could wrap his arms around his partner. "It's okay, bud," he murmured, rubbing his back soothingly. "I'm here."

Hutch pulled away slightly, unshed tears glittering in his blue eyes. "What happens when you're not?"

So that was what was bothering him. It pained Starsky to realise that he couldn't promise that he would always be there, because according to his watch he only had eight hours left. 'It's always harder for the one left behind,' Hutch had said. Starsky hadn't believed him at the time, but seeing Hutch in this condition when he was usually so calm was beginning to convince him.

"You don't need me," Starsky said jokingly, trying to pull off a convincing smile.

"You've always –" Hutch started, trying to articulate how he felt. "We've – I don't know – I can't…" He trailed off, another tear slipping down his cheek.

Starsky pulled him back into a tight hug, allowing Hutch to cry on his shoulder. He knew that Hutch would find it hard to grieve alone once he was gone, and while there was always a chance, slim as it was, that they would find the cure in time, Starsky wasn't going to pretend everything was all right when it was obvious that Hutch needed a way to say goodbye.

So Starsky just held him, until Hutch had no more tears to give.

Starsky gently brushed away the last of the tears with his thumb, smiling fondly at his partner. "You gonna take care of yourself?"

Hutch smiled weakly in return. "Sure."

"It's okay to be scared," Starsky said quietly, knowing that Hutch needed the reassurance after laying bare his soul like that. "I –" His words broke off abruptly as the pain returned, sharper than it had been. Automatically his body jerked into a ball around the cramping muscles and his hands clutched Hutch's arm. The torment was endless this time, increasing exponentially until he couldn't hold back the scream any longer. And then his breath was coming in gasps, never drawing in enough air. For the first time he felt himself begin to panic.

"Starsk, c'mon, hang in there." Hutch's voice sounded distant, pleading with him. "It's okay, it's gonna be all right. Just concentrate on breathing, we're gonna get you back to Cheryl, you'll be fine…"

"What would I do without you?" Starsky mumbled as he was lifted into his partner's arms, before he lost consciousness.