Title: "One more step" – Chapter 2

Author: IROS

Fandom: Starsky & Hutch

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights, I don't get money and this is for entertainment only. Oops! Errors are entirely mine.


Hutch had not entrusted his partner's strength to arrive safely to the apartment on the second floor by his own means and had rather walked him himself all the way along the street discreetly tugging his pal's arm over his shoulders, just looking like a good friend escorting a drunkard home. Until they've got into the safety of the lobby of the apartment's building he didn't stop talking softly to his partner about the past days.

Starsky was almost swaying on his feet by the time Hutch finished telling his side of the story, both from growing exhaustion and from the hollow bleakness of what he was hearing. As soon as Hutch opened the lift door leading to their destination floor, in the blink of an eye, the brunet felt on his knees, breathless, all his determination blown away… he was finally home, some kind of safe port for him after his terrible ordeal and yet, at the same time, he felt he was on the verge of a cliff just then, nowhere to go, his worse fears confirmed after what he just heard from Hutch.

"I'm gonna get some help. Two medics are inside. They can't hear us from there. Hold on, buddy."

"No. No! Don't let me... like this... Wait... Please wait...."

Hutch came back for him, ready to give his friend the few minutes he so badly needed to collect himself now that he knew he wasn't bleeding as badly as he initially thought back on the alley. Meanwhile, Starsky had managed to struggle painfully out of his dusty jacket, dumping it on the floor, and there it was Hutch looking hesitantly towards his partner with bleary eyes at a loss of what to do – or say – next.

Starsky looked back into the hurting eyes of his friend and hoped against hope that this would work, that he could change all the wrongs of the last days with the info he had right then, make the pain and sacrifice written in the lined and wrinkled skin of his blond partner worth it. "You should have taken... that... when I offered, I could have... not made it here... after all," he mumbled inadequately handling to him the little piece of paper he had been nursing carefully hidden under a band aid for two days now.

"Says you. You made it here, now you can give it to me," Hutch decided. "Eyes on the prize at all times, partner."

Through his utter tiredness and ravaging pain, Starsky couldn't help the frisson of fear that ran through him. The thought of trespassing that door behind Hutch back's and being put to sleep by some obscure doctor during the next few minutes made panic rise high on him. What if Hutch's plan didn't work now that he didn't have anything to offer? What if he stepped out of a safe slumber only to choke and die on a cold stalled air of a closed bedroom? What if he ended up further crippled to be of any use to anyone?

"Now if this works," Hutch said, unconsciously echoing the brunet thoughts, "I'll be waiting right here when you come round. We don't have much time to get you all patched up and keep going but I think we can manage it."

Still haunted by the myriad of things that could go wrong, that could destroy this one and only chance to set things straight, Starsky asked hollowly, "And if it doesn't work?"

"Well, you won't feel a thing," Hutch cut him short "The anesthetics they'll be using are so strong that basically, you just… won't wake up," and forced an amused grin in his face that melt in a wide smile to further reassure his pal. "It's time... You are OK now. Let's go."

They stood there, two friends, family, give or take, and suddenly, despite his exhaustion, Starsky didn't want this moment to end, wasn't ready to cross that door and put his life in some stranger's hands just yet.

"In the past years," he blurted, "did you happen to notice how much I hate being put to sleep?"

Hutch looked bemused. "Oh. I don't think so, no." He helped his friend to rise from the floor.

Feeling possibly more afraid than he'd ever been, Starsky asked, "Will you be around? Keep an eye on me while they do the surgery?"

Hutch was apologetic. "I'll be holding your hand all the way through if that's what it takes. Come on. Let's go. They are waiting for you. Time is running against us."

"I am scared, Blintz." Starsky rasped, barely.

Hutch nodded his understanding. There was nothing more to say.

Starsky sighed and blew out a long puff of air as soon as they crossed the long corridor to the 752 apartment door. Hutch opened the door with his own keys but not before making sure his teammate could remain upright. At the other side of the door two large figures in white were tiredly waiting half seating over an improvised stretcher prepared over a large piece of plastic that covered most of the floor of the living room. One of them immediately jumped down and started checking the instrumental laid over the sterile green cloth on an auxiliary table. "This can't be good," Starsky muttered. The goose bumps that immediately stood out the overall fearless friend's skin just at the sound of metal clicking against metal got Hutch to guide him inside with a soft nudge, "C'mon, Starsk. Let's do this and get out of here."


TBC