Chapter 11

'You mean he's really sick?' Colby asked as he and Hutch sat over a late night cup of coffee.

'Oh come on! Don't tell me you thought he was fakin' it John. You were really goin' for it there. It was like you were a different person!' Hutch snapped at his friend. He'd been shaken enough when he'd seen the injuries Starsky had tried to hide from him, but he'd been more than worried for the brunet when he'd witnessed the titanic struggle for breath in the Infirmary.

'Ball told us to go for it. Starsk wasn't complainin.'

'He didn't have the fuckin' breath to complain ya moron' Hutch yelled, slamming his cup down on the table and spilling the brown liquid over the white Formica top.

'All he needed to have done was told me, an' I'd have gone easy on him or stopped completely' Colby said defensively.

'And when did you ever see Curly give up? You knew he was hurtin' and you wouldn't stop' Hutch said accusingly.

'I'm sorry Hutch, an' I'll go over there an' apologise to Starsk too when he's feelin' better. I never meant to….. I didn't stop coz…. coz that was always part of the trainin' as a guard. Once ya start, ya don't stop till… aww shit, damn, bugger! I should go tell him now.'

'You should let him sleep, ya can tell him in the mornin' Hutch's anger dissipated as he saw the genuine remorse on his friend's face. Colby looked up, thankful that he had some understanding and then his face creased into a scowl.

'What the hell's happening?' Colby said, getting up from the table and walking over to the door just in time to see Mrs Ball being marched by two Sergeants from the Infirmary to the Commandant's office. Hutch joined him at the door and then, his heart in his mouth, he sprinted across the small grassy square and burst into the Infirmary, seeing Gibson still ministering to the brunet.

'What happened? Is he…is he ok?' Hutch stammered as he walked to the bedside and looked down at his friend.

'He will be. There was an incident in here. It's being dealt with, but I think David could use a friendly face right now.'

Starsky opened his eyes and looked up at Hutch over the top of the clear plastic mask. ''Utch?'

'Yeah buddy. I'm right here. How're ya doin?'

'T'riffic. Some crazy woman tried to kill me. How's your day been?'

The blond cadet gave the doctor a sharp, questioning look. 'Tried to kill…. What the hell is going' on here Sir?'

'Nothing good. But it's being dealt with, I promise.'

'And this has something to do with Sergeant Ball?' Hutch asked. By his side, Starsky hissed and reached for the flaxen haired cadet's hand.

'Hutch shudup huh? It's nuthin. Just leave it…..please?' the brunet gasped through the mask.

'No, I won't just leave it. It's gone on long enough. He was torturin' you buddy, an' I wouldn't be much of a friend if I just stood back an' let it happen.'

'Let what happen?' Gibson interjected. 'You mean your injuries weren't accidental? None of them?'

Starsky glared at the two men while Hutch and Gibson looked down at the cadet on the bed. The brunet dropped his eyes feeling like a deer caught in a car's headlights. He was trapped; trapped in this bed while his friend and the doctor ran scenarios in their heads and Carly Ball was somewhere else telling the Commandant God knows what.

'Wait here' Gibson said tersely as he headed for the door with Hutch in tow.'

Starsky snorted softly. If Carly Ball and his Sergeant were going to be talking about him, he was damned well going to be there. Carefully, he took off the oxygen mask and flipped back the sheets, swinging his legs out of the bed with a hiss. The drain in his back pulled miserably and felt odd as he stood up, and the remains of the drugs in his bloodstream made him dizzy and the room spun, but Starsky managed to grab hold of the vacuum canister attached to the drain and stagger to the door of the Infirmary, pausing to get his breath before he stumbled along the side of the square to the Commandant's office, using the walls of the various buildings for support.

As he got towards the brightly lit office, he could hears shrieking and yelling from within and it was patently obvious that Carly was still in full flow and as he got himself to the doorway, he saw Mrs Ball, the Commandant, Doc Gibson and Hutch all crowded into the office.

'He attacked me. He needs locking up for ever. He's an animal. He stalked me for a week and finally cornered my in the city. He'd sabotaged my car and then made a pretence of trying to fix it and the he….he….he assaulted me. He bundled me back into the car and forced me to drive him back here and then he raped me. You have to do something….. He's dangerous' Carly was yelling. Her shoulders shook and she put her hands up to her face in a truly wonderful show of the being helpless victim.

'Starsky would never do that' Hutch shouted from the back of the room. 'And that doesn't explain Sergeant Ball's….'

'Sergeant Ball's what cadet?'

There was silence suddenly in the small office as the occupants turned en mass to see the small Sergeant standing in the doorway. He'd pushed Starsky out of the way once he'd seen what this was all about and terror had clutched at his throat.

Roughly, Ball pushed his way through the small crowd to stand next to his wife. Without waiting to find out what she'd said, he took a hold of her shoulders and shook her viciously, determined to put forward his point of view.

'You stupid little tramp. You fuckin' stupid little bitch! I said I'd handle this. I said I'd…'

Carly stared at her husband wildly. She hadn't said anything about what her husband had been doing to Starsky and she tried desperately to shut the man up before he did himself some damage, but Ball had lost it completely and he was still yelling at Carly and the Commandant.

'It was all her fault. If the little whore hadn't gone and fucked that cadet, I wouldn't have had to try to get him to leave. She drove me to it. It isn't my fault… it's not' Ball tailed off, seeing the Commandant's open mouthed look of horror.

Commandant Russell held up his hand. 'Run that by me again, Ball.'

The small Sergeant stopped in his tracks, aware now that all eyes were on him and that Carly had gone very, very quiet. 'Huh?'

'Your wife was explaining how Cadet Starsky had stalked her, attacked her and raped her and yet all you seem concerned about is that she fucked him. Which is it Ball? Did the cadet attack your wife?'

At the doorway, Starsky leaned heavily on the wooden lintel, tight lipped and holding his breath as he heard his future discussed as though it were a trial. He was still panting and wheezing and his legs felt like rubber, but he was determined to see this play out to the bitter end.

Ball licked his lips, wondering what would be the best way to play this. He realised the mistake he'd made by jumping straight in there and now his mind was working overtime trying to back himself out of the corner. 'Yeah he…well Cadet Starsky was um…he and Carly… I…' The Sergeant stumbled over his words as the Commandant continued to fix him with a steely stare.

'Did the Cadet and Mrs Ball have sex?' he asked, cutting to the point.

'Yes' Ball and Carly replied together.

'And when were you going to report this Sergeant?'

'Well I was um…. I didn't want to um….'

'There's no "um" to it Sergeant. The accusation is that one of our cadets raped your wife, and yet you saw fit not to report that fact. Why was that?'

'I um…. I don't um….' Ball stammered.

'Sergeant, did Cadet Starsky rape your wife, or did he not? And be careful before you speak, there would have to be a full investigation.'

Ball looked at his wife and then at the floor, weighing up the odds. If he was to make the accusation, the whole sordid business of his wife's infidelities would surely come out and he'd be the laughing stock of the Academy. But if he didn't make the accusation, he'd have a helluva lot of explaining to do about his treatment of the cadet. Which was easiest? Which would be the easiest to explain away?

'Or perhaps we should just ask the cadet' Commandant Russell said, spying the ailing young man at the back of the room.

All eyes turned to Starsky and he felt the room spin as he held onto the door for support. Hutch rushed to his side and helped him to stand and at a nod from Russell, he helped the brunet limp into the room. Starsky stood shoulder to shoulder with Ball. Clad only in a pair of navy blue scrub pants, it was evident to see the injuries inflicted over the past few days. Bruises sowed livid against the olive toned skin and poked out from the margins of the bandages surrounding the cadet's chest.

Starsky felt as though the whole world was staring at him and he could feel the waves of hatred flowing from Ball's indignant body. He stood his ground, however, tried to straighten up into something like standing to attention, and with Hutch at his side he looked the Commandant in the eye.

'So Sergeant Ball. Are you trying to tell me that Mrs Ball inflicted these injuries as a result of her assault?' Russell asked.

'No Sir, I don't know how he got them.'

'Cadet Starsky. How did you come to be injured like this?' the Commandant asked.

Starsky considered. Although he'd been treated badly by the Sergeant, he'd made a promise to keep the secret. Carly had seen to it that everyone knew something had gone on between her and the brunet, but still, in David Starsky's eyes a promise was a promise.

Ball stared at Starsky, interpreting the hesitation in replying as something else entirely. In his agitated state, the small Sergeant could imagine Starsky spilling all the beans and Ball being made out to be the laughing stock of the campus. Of anything that could possibly happen to the small Sergeant, being laughed at was just about the worst in his eyes. He'd had enough of it through school, college and his police training and now, here at the Academy as a trainer, he'd found a modicum of respect. That was something he wouldn't - couldn't give up and as he watched the reflection in the cadet's piercing indigo eyes, something snapped inside his head. With a bellow of frustration and rage, he launched himself at the curly haired cadet and knocked him to the ground.

Starsky fell backwards with a yelp of surprise, the ground suddenly hard on the back of his head. He put his hands up to protect himself as he saw Ball's fist aiming at his face and it connected once with his chin. The brunet gave a grunt of pain as his head snapped sideways and then as all hell broke loose around him, the world faded into shades of grey before winking out completely.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Consciousness came back to him more slowly this time and Starsky was aware of a pillow beneath his head and sheets across his chest. He wrinkled his nose at the unfamiliar antiseptic smells assailing him and realised that this didn't smell too much like the Academy Infirmary. With a careful breath, he cracked open one eye and looked up at he ceiling. It was white tiled, with those polystyrene tiles beloved by hospitals the world over, and it had an interesting brown stain in its middle. Idly, Starsky wondered how on earth a stain could get onto a ceiling tile before a more familiar, comforting sight insinuated itself into his line of vision.

'Hey there sleepy head. How're ya doin' buddy?'

It seemed to be the only thing Hutch had said to him of late, but a wash of gratitude flowed over the young cadet as he smiled contentedly.

'Where?' he asked, too tired to force more than the single word out.

'Mercy Hospital Pal. You're in the hospital, but you're gonna be ok….. you'll be fine.'

Starsky creased his forehead, reality kicking in with unwanted force. 'They kick me out?'

'Huh?'

'Of the Academy.' Starsky looked thoroughly miserable at the prospect and Hutch smiled down at him.

'No, mushbrain, they didn't kick you out. They just brought you here to get ya out of the way while things were sorted.'

'Sorted?'

Another voice joined the duo and Starsky turned his head to see John Blaine sitting by the side of his bed. 'Ball and Carly. That's what he means by sorted. How're ya doin' Pipsqueak?'

'Feel like I'm missin' somethin'.' Starsky grunted. 'Explain.'

'Ball didn't seem to like what you were gonna say, so he attacked you and Hutch here dragged him off. He was beside himself, yelling that you were gonna make him a laughing stock and he'd given you the chance to get out, but you were too stubborn' Blaine paused and snorted. 'Guess he got that right! Anyhow, the Commandant cleared the room. Hutch and Doc Gibson brought you back to the Infirmary and then got ya into the hospital here while Russell took Bouncer and Mrs Ball away. He's a good guy, that Russell. I never met him before, but he telephoned me and told me what had gone on.'

'And what did go on? What did Ball say?' Hutch asked.

'Well it seems Ball had backed himself so far into a corner that finally he had to come clean and tell Russell that's the accusations of rape were made up. Apparently he told the Commandant that he'd tried to reason with Davey here, and that he was "encouraging him to find alternative career paths".'

The blond cadet snorted. 'Yeah, sounds about right, except the encouragement amounted to torture. You saw what he'd done to Starsky.'

'Uh huh. And so did Russell. Ball and his wife are packing their bags at this very minute with orders to get off the campus by midday.'

'Where's he gonna go?' Starsky asked

'Who knows, an' who cares? There aint no place for behaviour like that at the Academy' Blaine said softly. 'Why didn't ya tell someone Davey?'

Starsky shrugged his shoulders, winced and groaned softly. 'I told him I wouldn't' he explained simply.

'Even after everything he did at you?' Hutch asked incredulously.

'And you never breathed a word?' Blaine asked.

'He kept givin' me a piece of paper to sign, asking for release from the Academy, and I wouldn't do it. Guess he got fed up of askin' and tried different methods, but no, I wouldn't go back on a promise.'

Hutch grinned at him. 'I can't make my mind up whether you're crazy or just a masochist.'

'I have no idea what you're talkin' about' Starsky said huffily. 'But Hutch?'

'Huh?'

'I'm glad you were there. It was kinda nice havin' ya watch my back.'

'Yeah, for me too' the blond said softly. 'Like it was natural almost. Like we may need to do it for real some day.'

'I'd like that.'

'What?' Hutch asked. 'Starsk? Starsky?'

But the trauma of the day had finally taken its toll and Starsky had fallen asleep with a smile on his face. As Blaine took his leave of the two cadets, Hutch settled himself back onto the hard chair and, putting his hand over his friend's protectively, he allowed himself to relax, secure in the knowledge that he and Starsky were meant to be together. As he closed his eyes, he started to dream of maybe the two of them out on the streets of Bay City, running down flakes and solving crimes side by side. The dynamic duo. Batman and Robin. Starsky and Hutch.

--fin--

Thanks for reading guys. Tomorrow night, something a little different. Brook and I needed a little light relief and although I've written a couple of one chapter humourous stories, I've never tried anything longer, till now. So tomorrow night Brook and Welsh Productions proudly presents "What Goes Up", a longer, (hopefully funny) story to tide you over to the beginning of the longest story we've ever written.

Coming soon "Windmills of His Mind". Starsky is in prison awaiting sentence for attempted murder - and this time he isn't under cover. Thing is, his victim was Hutch.