Aussie Angie, Nelleke (who wrote of the child in the Netherlands who was beaten and starved to death by her parents----How horrid that the parents did such!) and my wonderful friend, Karen (KKBelvis): A reminder that Chapter Three has some changes in hopes that it will read smoother. Thank you for commenting on the original version, but if you have the time I'd like your opinion on the new version. XXXXXXXXXXOOOOOOO

Another thing….. I don't know if anyone is interested in watching this child abuse music video I found on the web, but if you do decide to watch it I must warn you that some of the photos are very graphic! Have a box of tissues close by! The song that the person who made the video used is "Alyssa Lies" written and sung by Jason Michael Carroll. I still am not certain if this fanfic forum allows us to post websites, so if you want to watch the video please email me for the link.

Parents, Treat Your Children Well

Chapter Four

Dobey had read the background histories of everyone who was under his leadership. In each man and woman's manila folder there were very official looking forms. The paperwork had a section for the person who was filling out the forms to list the current place of residence and as many former addresses as could be recalled. Also asked for were the dates lived at each address, educational history, and like questions so that when reading Hutchinson's file, Dobey learned that he resided with his parents from the time he was born 'till he moved to California to attend college. Mentally recollecting it wasn't until 1961 that Hutch arrived to the West Coast, the captain was experienced in his job to conclude that it wasn't a grandparent, aunt, uncle, or cousin who had deliberately hurt his detective and friend. It had to have been Karl or Hutch's mother, Malena. Or possibly it was the both of them that had done horrible things to their only off-spring?

But although Dobey felt enormously sorry for Hutch, the one he felt pity for: His facial expression no longer matched that of someone who was even a fraction of a bit distressed. With no haunted look to Hutch's blue eyes, which Dobey had noticed long before now that the hue sometimes depended on the color and shade of shirt being worn... the un-slumped shoulders and back were also excellent signs that clearly stated Hutch was no longer anxious and did not need anyone's concern. Hutch's current mood not that of sadness either, he didn't feel like a kid---vulnerable and open to attack from biological parents who were supposed to love him more than anyone else. Didn't crave for Dobey to console him; though he was getting rather frustrated that each time he ran his fingers through his bangs, in an attempt to style them back to their proper place, they were determined to fall back onto his forehead.

Reminding Dobey that he'd come for the power drill, he reached down, picking up an item that was lying on the concrete patio. Entirely giving up being irritated with his hair, the object Hutch held in his palm was a baseball. Kind of grayish colored--

The last time he had gone to Minnesota his parents wooden porch continued to be painted the same pristine white as that of a brand new baseball. But this baseball…it was dirty. This ball…it had been battered. This object had nicks and cuts grooved into the leather skin covering. Markings on it the same black as dark bruises. A person or persons had struck it and hard! But even though it looked as if it had been hit with a bat numerous times, it was in good enough shape to toss in the air. Should Hutch miss catching the object it wasn't human. It couldn't feel pain.

Already walking in the direction of the tool shed which wasn't all that far from the picnic table while in a care-free manner going ahead and throwing the sphere approximately 3 inches in diameter as far into the sky as it could go, Hutch tripped over his own feet.

Not hearing inside his cranium the echo of his father calling him "klutz" when it truly had been several years since his dad had called him that and names a lot worse (to be honest, those harsher names had cut even deeper into Kenneth Hutchinson's tender, sensitive heart but neither was he currently hearing Karl call him "worthless"-- more than once telling him that he wished he'd never been born, and…) while here in the backyard with Dobey it was obvious that the tendency of sometimes being ungraceful hadn't entirely disappeared. Thankfully in control of his long legs to not take a fall, the ball Hutch expertly caught.

Actually, Hutch was quite the athlete and participated in a variety of sports. Throwing the baseball way up in the air a second time and again having no trouble catching it, Dobey was looking at him. But the scrutiny had nothing to do with admiring his skill and once more Hutch's eyes traveled to Dobey's waistline. Moments ago though his blue eyes had detected that Dobey was wearing a belt to the degree it had caused him to start anxiously counting the closer that Dobey had come to smacking the top of Cal's hand six times when according to Hutch anymore wouldn't have been a sensible amount and would've been going overboard with the punishment---it was only now that his brain was fully conscious of the fact that Dobey even had on the black leather strip with a silver-colored buckle. Staring at it, Hutch recollected a certain childhood incident. One that was traumatic but some people might not believe he had forgotten it had transpired. Regardless of what they thought, this particular incident, though it hadn't involved lighting a match with the intentions of setting a leaf or anything else on fire, it had involved a backyard, a baseball, a belt and buckle, and yet another one of Karl's abusive outbursts.

The renewed tension over what had taken place sixteen years ago so powerful it felt to the blond detective as if someone had dropped on the nearby hard concrete patio a tuning fork----with the exception being that the incessant huuummmmmmmmmmmm was going on literally inside of him! --- the infuriating sensation was concentrating on making its presence known in the nerves and muscle tissue of both long arms, extending into his hands, and into his fingers! Having no control over his digits that were involuntarily twitching and letting go of the sports ball that was currently in his right palm so that it fell into the grass, a few minutes later the breeze caused the short sleeves of his light-weight shirt to stroke both upper arms.

Those same caresses, though gentle, might just harass him into yanking open the garment, popping off the buttons. Once his torso was bared, twist and keep on coiling the cloth as if he were strangling the very life out of it. But though the sleeves blowing against his triceps and biceps weren't so irritating to have taken on the persona of a big bully pushing and shoving him into the heightened degree of insanity… as a matter of fact, the fabric tickling his upper arms he found relaxing enough so that the tuning fork was disappearing and his fingers no longer jerked… Hutch desired something more than what 'any' piece of clothing could give him.

Something that wouldn't make him look like a wimp, he sincerely wished for Dobey to offer him some potato chips which were unhealthy but tasted good, and were right there on the picnic table along with the hamburger that still needed to be cooked.

Staying with the scenario, he envisioned eating the chips, and at a speed no different than any other time he'd snacked while visiting Dobey.

The other man, who right now he needed to remain a tad more his superior than friend, Hutch hoped would also dig into the chips. That way as they were eating the atmosphere would transpire into a normal, casual one.

Technically it already had as Dobey was no longer looking directly at him. Now if Dobey would just open the bag of chips when to complete the scenario… While they were making unintentional but naturally occurring crunching noises that came with eating certain foods, Hutch sincerely wished that Dobey would say, "Tell me about it," as he needed to talk about the time he was twelve. Tell Dobey about it, or else end up needing the services of a professional psychiatrist after all.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

If Starsky ever learned of just 'one' of the times the six foot three Karl who was built like a brick house had ill-treated Hutch, Starsky would go to Minnesota and kick him in the nuts! Starsky wasn't just fond of Hutch. He was in love with his partner and best friend. That shouldn't be shocking. People didn't need to want to have sex to have such strong feelings for another human being. And with Starsky's protectiveness of Hutch being so ferocious---

While Karl lay on the ground holding his family jewels, the chewing out Starsky would give him for having hurt Hutch would include foul language that the brunet Midwesterner had never heard before.

And if Hutch's mother Malena was home she would call the police. If she wasn't… they'd show up anyway.

Charged with both physical and verbal assault Starsky would go to jail. Or maybe Starsk would go to prison? At the very least he would lose his badge and that's why Hutch hadn't divulged certain things about his childhood to him.

For several reasons all very complex but in someway all involved fear, worry, or the combination of both, Hutch hadn't told his teachers or the principal of the schools he attended that not every day, each month, but often enough that he was being abused. Had not dared to whisper anything about it to his grandparents, who lived in a different state, but he saw a few times a year. There were different excuses (in a victim's eyes all which seemed valid) why he hadn't told Jack Mitchell about it. Their classmates in high school had given Jack the nickname 'The Prince' Hutch had been 'The Pauper' only because Mitchell's parents weren't just wealthy, they were filthy rich. By the time he'd met Jack the mal-treatment had ended, but the emotional damage…the hurt remained...

Hutch had moved to California and was at a public library. From the aisle he was in, he had no clue what the female who would become his wife looked like. He wasn't a genius, but he was very intelligent and her knowledge of the novel she was discussing with some young men and women who were about their age, and who were obviously her friends, propelled him to wander over to the walkway she and they were on. His shy but brilliant smile being an immediate success in getting the attractive brunette to notice him, just the two of them left the library and went out for coffee.

Then as Nancy and Hutch's attraction for each other grew so that every day of the week they did something together, his idea of wooing her into then marrying him wasn't by telling of his father's cruelty. The wedding rehearsal and ring ceremony wasn't the place to mention it, even if both sets of parents hadn't been present. After the honeymoon Hutch might have told Nance, but there was something else that he wanted to converse with her about. Why would anyone think that he was the kind of guy who believed that just because he was the husband- the Head of the Household---he had the right to walk into the house and announce that he was going to quit his job to attend the police academy? He hated it that some people thought he would do such, when her opinion was very important to him. But before he had a chance to sit down on the couch with her, she came home from a shopping trip and informed him that she'd legally gotten her first name changed to one more glamorous.

Though he couldn't say he'd found himself in 'yet' another abusive relationship when so far 'Vanessa' had never slapped him or scratched him with her mid-length fingernails, she began to push his buttons in other ways besides just getting the name change without his input. Enough so that he went ahead and gave his boss a two-week quitting notice and entered the police academy.