Chapter 12 –By Kirsty Welsh-

Hutch slept well that night for the first night since Starsky's original stay in hospital after Gunther's attack. During the long months of the brunet's recuperation, he'd fought every step of the way by his partner's side, both men always hoping against hope that Starsky would somehow regain sufficient fitness to be able to get back into the Torino at Hutch's side. The car had been almost as much of a mess as its owner, but the men in the squad room had had a collection and wheedled sufficient work out of Merle to get the big red car back to its former glory.

When Starsky had been released that first time, the only thing bigger that drove him on, other than Hutch, had been the prospect of driving his baby again and the first day he'd gotten back behind the wheel was the first day he felt he was truly recovering.

But the brunet's recovery had taken so much out of Hutch: more than he ever really comprehended. Each night, Starsky would slump into an exhausted sleep while Hutch would read through his reports, finalise his work and set about getting ready for the next day. He'd lived on a knife edge for so long that it began to feel like it was the norm. And when the day had arrived for Starsky to depart, he'd touched rock bottom, or at least he thought so. The real crisis though, had come with Daniel Griffith's death. In seeing the state of shock the blond detective was when he'd been taken to the ER, the doctor in duty had prescribed him some help of the chemical variety. The Valium had provided some release to begin with, but pretty soon the effects wore off more quickly than he wanted and so he'd started to mix the drugs with alcohol and the combination of booze and the pills had become a dangerous trap

Now in the cold light of day, the blond felt exhausted, more than a little ashamed and too embarrassed to talk about the incident to anyone. But in that fact, he had little choice and when he'd woken refreshed, he'd been made to face his error.

'What were ya thinking of Blondie?' Starsky asked, with his usual direct approach.

'Not now Starsk'.

'Well when? It aint gonna go away buddy. We need to talk'.

'I know, but not now. It just doesn't feel right now. Like there isn't time' Hutch blustered.

The brunet in the next bed snorted and folded his arms across his healing chest. 'Yeah, know what ya mean. Between all these books I gotta read and the soccer game I'm due to play this afternoon, I don't know when I'm gonna have time to listen'.

Hutch propped himself up on his elbow. Was his partner feeling sorry for himself? He just couldn't cope with both of them feeling like that right now. But instead of a mournful face he saw the beginnings of a grin on the handsome face as Starsky's sightless eyes stared upwards at the ceiling. He sighed and flopped down on the bed again.

'Jeez ya know how to push the buttons!'

'Yup, that's me. Button pusher extraordinaire. Now start talkin' the curly haired man said happily, knowing he'd crumbled Hutch's defences.

'There really isn't a whole lot to tell. Can't we just….' He tailed off as he saw the brunet's imperious hand raised high.

'Tell it to the hand, Blintz' he said.

'OK. Don't say I didn't warn ya. Where d'ya want me to start?'

'Well…duh! At the beginning?'

'Ya know you really are an irritating son of a … Ok, the beginning'.

Hutch tried to get his thoughts in order. How could he tell his best friend just how much he'd been hurting all these months without making it out that some of it was Starsky's fault? Of course it wasn't, but sometimes it kinda felt that way.

'Are you ready for all this?'

'Hutch, so help me, if I could see ya, I'd smack ya!'

'Ok, ok. Just warning ya there.' Hutch paused briefly to collect his thoughts and then, he began talking.

'When Gunther shot you, I knew it was bad. I thought you'd die, an' you did for a gut wrenching few seconds. Then you started to get better and I felt like we were gonna make it, like we'd be back out there together and nothing would change. I hated seeing what you had to go through, especially at the trial, but there wasn't a helluva lot I could do about it. And I felt so powerless. It was all down to you – your healing and your physio'.

'When you came home from the physio and you were so badly beat, there was nothing I could do then either, no way I could take your pain away, although what I really wanted to do was to take the exercise for you, just to stop your pain for a while, and it cut me up. And I started drinking. At night, when you'd gone to bed. Just the odd glass of bourbon or tequila to begin with. Nothing really, just some fire water to ease out the kinks of the day, and at first it helped'.

'Then when I had to go back to work, and you weren't there, the alcohol took away some of the… dunno… loneliness I guess. Coz I missed you not being there, it was like I was doing a familiar job with an arm tied behind my back. And the paperwork wasn't my bag, but I kept at it coz I thought we'd still get back out there. And then when the review board's doc told you you'd never be fit enough to get back on the streets, the bourbon helped again, but I needed more of it. Pretty soon I was getting through a bottle every three or four nights, but it wasn't helping the same anymore'.

'I could see you battling through. Always tryin' to be cheerful and it got to me. Half of me wanted to hug you and tell you to stop being so damned brave and just let it out, and the other half of me wanted to knock your block off and tell you to cut it out. You made me feel so… incompetent. As if I couldn't match you. You were the one who was hurt, and whose life had been fucked up, but I was the one who was cracking up.'

'The day you said you were going, I felt so hurt, as if even after all we'd both been through, somehow you rejected me. Deep down I know why you went, but it hurt, buddy. It hurt more 'n' you'll ever know' he looked sideways at Starsky, trying to decide whether he'd gone too far and hoping his partner had heard enough to make him stop. But the brunet was lying with his head pointed towards Hutch, a look of concentration on his face as he listened.

'I hurt too buddy. I guess I was just so crazy with everything that had gone on to think straight. I was the only thing I could think of to do to stop you wasting your life away with a… a cripple' he said with a shaky laugh. 'Go on. I need to hear this, and I think it's been too long for you. You need to get this off your chest'.

Hutch sighed. Where had he gotten to?

'So when you went, Dobey made me sign up with Daniel, and I was a complete bastard to him. I hated that it was him in my car and not you, and, to be honest, I didn't trust him to watch my back like you did. But after a while we straightened things out and it worked well for a short time, till …' Hutch stopped. He was going to say "till I got him killed" but Dan's voice seemed to resonate in his head "It wasn't your fault. IT …WASN'T…YOUR … FAULT" He chuckled to himself – listen to the dead guy why don't ya?

'It worked till he was killed. After that I lost it big style. I'd lost you, I'd convinced myself I'd got Dan killed and I couldn't function. That's when Dobey telephoned you and asked you to talk to me. That's when I hit rock bottom. Shit, I was so stoned at Dan's funeral that I made a complete ass of myself and Dobey had to take me home. That's when we got the new of your accident and I came straight here… After that, you know what happened'.

'Yeah, ya got stoned again and took a nosedive onto my floor' Starsky said, breaking the tension that had grown in the room. He sighed, wriggling in the bed to try and get more comfortable. 'I did what I did because I though it would be best for both of us. Turned out I was wrong in so many different ways. I thought I was doing great. My new boss thought so too, but there was always something missing. Something I couldn't really put my finger on. I met an old guy, in the apartment next to mine, Morris is his name. He was good to me; real kind. Once he told me that he had too a close friend many years ago, a guy called Rob. His friend and he went through quite a lot of the same things we did, and Morris was the one who made me realise that things change, but sometimes we can't escape the inevitable'.

'When Dobey rang, I went to speak to my boss, Melville. He gave me one week to sort everything out and get back up there, but I knew I wouldn't be going back any time soon. Coz I knew I needed to be here. That's what was missing'.

'Starsk, I've messed up your new job and your new life'. Hutch said, feeling the deep dark depressive thoughts trying to claw their way back into his head.

'No you didn't. That's the point Blondie. I think in a way, you put me back on track. Sure it felt good to be out there doing a job again, the kind I enjoyed instead of paperwork, but it wasn't right. Being here is'.

'But if you hadn't come back, you wouldn't have had the accident and you wouldn't be lying there with broken legs and……'

'Blind? You can say it Blintz. It aint catchin'.

'In a way I wish it was' Hutch said quietly.

'Oh sure. Then all we'd need to do would be stick Huggy in the eyes and we could do a "Three blind Mice" routine! C'mon Hutch. Don't beat yourself up over this. You weren't there. The juggernaut was, unfortunately'.

'Unfortunately? Is that all you can say? Unfortunately? Starsky you can't see!' Hutch snorted.

'Hey, ya don't have to remind me, pal. But I'll get thr……we'll get through this. Just at the moment, and don't ask me why, but it doesn't seem so bad. Ask me again when I start walkin' around and canonin' into furniture and I might feel a whole lot different'.

'You mean you think you'll be able to see again?'

Starsky sighed. 'I have no idea, but I had weird dreams while I was out'.

'Weird? How weird?' the blond asked suspiciously

'Would you believe I dreamed of Dan?' Starsky said quietly.

Hutch gulped, his heart skipping a beat. 'Dan? Daniel Grifith?'

'Yeah… quite weird thing, huh? He was kinda there, as though he was still living. We talked a lot. You're gonna think this is so crazy. He told me this was all for the best and things would get better. It was Dan who told me that you needed me' Starsky said almost shyly. Hutch had never been one for the voodoo mumbo jumbo as he called it and the brunet felt the connection he'd had with the dead cop was too real for his partner to start making fun of it or him.

But Hutch didn't say anything and for a moment Starsky thought he might be laughing to himself. Eventually, though, Hutch shuffled to the side of his bed and reached out until he could brush his fingers over Starsky's arm, making the brunet jump slightly.

'Hey buddy, if Dan told ya things would work out I think I'm inclined to believe him.'

Xxxxxxx

In the next 2 weeks, things went on as expected. Right after learning about the accident, Starsky's mother had travelled to Bay City to stay with her oldest son for as long as he needed her –Of course, she arrived without Nick by her side, something that neither surprised nor disappointed Starsky or Hutch- During her stay, the brave woman, while constantly fussing over Starsky had managed to gather enough fortitude to keep her fears regarding his future to herself. However, the brunet was too perceptive where his mother was concerned and she was unable to effectively hide her feelings from him. Her distress pained Starsky and Hutch too, and it was causing the three of them too much added stress. A worry that none of them needed at that point, so finally, and after days of gentle coaxing and once she was convinced that her son would be well cared for by Hutch and the hospital staff, Starsky and Hutch had managed to talk the woman into going back home.

As days went by, Starsky's injuries were healing well. Finally, his left leg had been well enough to be placed in a cast from knee to toe and he was at last free of the traction. His ribs were continuing to heal and without the confines of the pulleys and weights attached to his leg, he was free to move in the bed and even, momentously, sit in a wheelchair for Hutch to push him around the hospital for, as he laughingly put it, a change of scenery.

During the few days when he was up and around, Doctor Jefferson had ordered scans and other tests on Starsky's eyes. Hutch couldn't believe sometimes that his friend couldn't see. The familiar indigo pools still flashed and twinkled and looked as clear and animated as ever, but still the nerves refused to work. Jefferson had finally told them that he could find no neurological reason for the blindness and that sometimes things were beyond medical reasoning, telling the duo that he was sorry he couldn't come up with better news.

Starsky had sighed and nodded, but had refused to accept the diagnosis and had continued as though everything was going to be ok. And this time, instead of driving Hutch crazy, the blond accepted that this was his partner's way of coping, and that something would eventually go right for the two of them.

And so, almost a month after the accident, the scar down the left side of his forehead now healed and adding another dimension to the ruggedly handsome face, Starsky and Hutch packed up their things from the small room and prepared to meet the world head on back at Hutch's apartment. TBC