The look of devastation on his partner's face told the story. Hutch knew that this had been an extremely difficult case for Starsky. The woman Starsky had been dating until only recently was found murdered, killed while working undercover as a cocktail waitress. They had tracked down the killer, only to find that the recently murdered women were not the only victims this time. The killer, it turned out, had not found the help he needed that might have prevented him from taking the lives of Helen and several other women. Captain Jim, delusional though he was, mistakenly received a "cured" prognosis and was no more, plummeting to his death from the radio tower where Starsky and Hutch remained perched.
Starsky stared down at the lifeless body, all attempts to get through to Wrightwood having failed. Starsky appeared to be in shock, and Hutch was worried about getting to his friend. Anything could happen in the precarious positions they found themselves in, even with cool heads prevailing; and Starsky was anything but cool-headed just then.
Hutch also knew that the adrenalin rush that propelled his partner up the tower would eventually crash in on Starsky, and he'd need to be close to help guide him down.
Hutch moved quickly and carefully to his partner. "Starsk, Starsky, look at me." Starsky seemed to be staring into space, not really looking at Wrightwood anymore, not focused on anything. "Starsk," Hutch reached out, glad to be close enough to guarantee that his partner would not tumble should he lose his grip on the metal rails.
Starsky looked up at Hutch. Hutch grabbed firmly on Starsky's arm. "Come on, let's head down partner." Hutch wasn't sure he could read Starsky's current frame of mind. He was obviously torn, trying to feel what was the right thing to feel at that moment. But Hutch knew his partner's conflicted emotions just then were wreaking havoc on his already fragile state of mind.
Starsky blinked, seeming to come back from wherever his mind had gone. The look on his face changed quickly from confused and disturbed to simply terrified. He hated heights, that was no secret. And his current anxious state wasn't helping him feel any calmer about making the trek down.
Hutch recognized the look. It was the same look he had faced when he went one-on-one with the rattler that had Starsky trapped up at Pine Lake. Starsky was frozen in place that time. This time Hutch saw that his partner was trying to keep steady, not wanting the other police who had arrived on the scene to see his fractured state.
They worked their way down the tower, Hutch leading the way but not allowing his partner much space to trail behind. The blond realized that they would take their last steps from the tower just a few feet from where Wrightwood's body lay. He knew there would be work to be done once they got down; he wondered if his partner would be ready to deal with that once they did finish the climb.
As Starsky took the last step down to firm ground, he faltered slightly, the stress of recent events manifesting itself now physically as well as emotionally. Hutch grabbed him by the arm and helped steady him as Starsky found his legs and headed to Helen's killer's body. Hutch continued holding his arm and Starsky looked back, not speaking yet questioning the restraint with his eyes.
"Starsky, I can finish up here. Why don't you head back to the precinct and get started on the report. I'll get a ride back to Metro in one of the squad cars." They looked each other in the eyes. Starsky was exhausted and he knew he was emotionally on the edge. He knew his partner was looking out for him and he also knew that any number of times in the past he had relied on Hutch's judgment at moments like these when he couldn't rely on his own. He absorbed Hutch's comfort and shelter like a security blanket, taking the awful bitterness he was feeling and accepting the enveloping blanket of protection that his partner offered.
When Hutch arrived at the precinct he found no sign of Starsky. He checked the desk carefully and found a note on a file folder.
Hutch,
Did what I could. Sorry it's not more. Had to get out of here.
Starsk
Hutch removed the report from the folder and perused his partner's work. He couldn't help but grin. Despite the painful events of the last few days, Starsky still managed to put together a thorough, objective report of the case.
Helen's death had shaken Starsky terribly. Hutch knew his partner was feeling guilty about the breakdown of their relationship and it's possible factor in her taking on this dangerous undercover assignment. Hutch knew, and he thought Starsky knew too, that he was not responsible in any way for what happened to her. But that still had not prevented Starsky from wondering whether their still being a couple might have impacted her mindset while on assignment. Hutch knew that was what his partner was thinking. And Hutch conceded that it could have made for a different result. And since he thought it could, he knew Starsky was thinking it, too.
Hutch needed to get to his partner. He finished up the report quickly, filling in anywhere he thought appropriate. He knew that handing the report in as it was would only generate questions from Dobey, but that was something that he could deal with tomorrow. Finding Starsky and trying to pull him out of the depression brought on by this case was far more important just then.
Hutch picked up the phone and dialed Starsky's number. He allowed the phone to ring a good dozen or so rings before giving up. He was pretty sure he knew where his partner would be if he hadn't headed to his own apartment. So he headed to Venice Place.
He pulled up and found the tomato parked in front of Chez Helene. A huge sense of relief wafted through his veins; he knew he needn't have worried, but still felt better knowing that Starsky was there and safe, physically anyway.
Hutch entered his apartment and found Starsky lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, a magazine resting open on his chest.
Hutch moved his friend's feet in a bit and sat on the edge of the couch. "How're you doing, buddy?" He asked softly.
"Okay. Everything go okay?" Starsky replied with little interest.
"Yeah. Hey, do you wanna talk about it?" Hutch knew the answer. Starsky would talk about it eventually, slowly. They might even get started tonight. He hoped so. Hutch was a firm believer in the healing power of talking things out.
"Nah. Not right now." Starsky continued to stare up at the ceiling.
Hutch knew there was little he could do to force his friend to talk about it. And forcing the issue wasn't the right tact to take with anyone in the frame of mind his partner was in. So he decided to suggest a different course of treatment.
"Hey buddy. You're exhausted. Why don't you try to catch a nap here while I get dinner started?" Hutch took the magazine from Starsky's chest and laid it nearby on the coffee table.
Starsky finally looked down from the mesmerizing ceiling and looked at his partner. He could see in Hutch's eyes a mirror image of the pain he was feeling. One of Hutch's great strengths was his ability to empathize with Starsky's own pain; Starsky also saw it as one of Hutch's greatest weaknesses. And in order to get Hutch to think about something other than Starsky's pain, he decided to give in to his exhaustion and his partner's suggestion and try for some sleep.
"Yeah, I am tired. I think I will just rest here a little while." He smiled softly at his partner. Hutch patted his arm as he rose from the couch and headed for the kitchen.
Starsky woke from his nap to an aroma he couldn't quite place. He looked around the apartment to see where his partner had gotten. The sleep had done him good, he thought. At least he wasn't feeling quite as mixed up as he had been earlier. Stress and exhaustion can addle the brain terribly, he thought as he picked up the magazine again. He finally looked toward the greenhouse and spotted his partner at the window.
"Hey." He called to Hutch, not moving from his sprawled out position on the couch.
"Hey, Starsk you see that sunset?" Hutch asked as he brought the candlesticks in to the kitchen table.
"Nah. That's okay." Starsky grumbled while continuing to read the magazine. His body language on the couch continued to project Starsky's dark mood to his partner.
"You oughta take a look at it." Hutch offered, trying to coax his partner to take a look at the beauty in life. Hutch always found that catching the sunsets added that special bit of hope that sustained him and often managed to lift the day above any bleak feelings some of the ugly things they dealt with left behind.
"Why, they happen every night." Starsky was still not ready to make that first step.
"It's beautiful. Every color of the spectrum constantly changing. Blue, gold, red, purple…" he trailed off as he removed the roasting pan from the oven.
"You been keepin' 'Reader's Digest' in the john again. 'Ways to More Colorful Speech'." Starsky rose from the couch, removing his holster and sitting with a heavy sigh at the dining room table.
"No, I'm serious." Hutch replied as he placed the food on the table. "It's always changing. The way it exists for a little while then goes away. Guess it's like most things beautiful, huh? It's part of their nature, like Helen. She existed and then she went away." Hutch finished as he started to light the candles. Starsky nodded, not sure he agreed.
Starsky sighed again. "Yeah. You ever think about takin' up the violin?" Hutch laughed affectionately.
"What're the candles for? You expectin' someone?" Starsky asked as Hutch finished with the candle lighting.
"Yeah, that's why we're eating early." Hutch replied quickly.
"Oh. What time 'm I leavin'?" Starsky asked, a little sad.
"Look at this." Hutch pulled the lid off the roasting pan with a flourish.
"Hey." Starsky smiled a shocked, crooked grin. Hutch returned a broad affectionate smile, knowing he had succeeded in his attempts to raise his best friend's spirits. "He-hey, hey that's my favorite, how'd you know?"
"Called your mother up." Hutch looked down shyly.
"You called my mother?" Starsky asked. And in that moment where he thought he was surprised that his partner would do that, he realized that this act should not have surprised him at all. This was exactly what he should have expected Hutch to do. And instantly he felt less sad than he had in many days.
"Yeah, she calls it the Paul Muni Special." As Hutch poured the wine, Starsky gave him the look. Hutch was glad to see it.
"Eat your vegetables." Hutch said as Starsky started in on the wine.
The End