TORTURED MIND

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hutch grabbed for Starsky's right wrist even as Starsky slashed at his flesh with the deadly blade. The blond cried out in pain as the razor sliced into the back of his hand instead of Starsky's arm. With his free hand, he grabbed the hand holding the blade and pressed his thumb against the pressure point, forcing Starsky to drop the razor to the tile floor. Ignoring his own injury, he wrapped the brunet in his arms and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Starsky collapsed against his partner and began to sob, deep heart wrenching sobs torn from the very core of his being. "Shhh…." Hutch whispered gently "I got ya, babe…I got ya." He rocked back and forth on his heels, comforting his best friend as Starsky finally released the terror and the pain of the past two years. It was a long time before Starsky finally quieted and relaxed against Hutch, emotionally drained from his outburst.

"I need to get some stuff to fix your arm, buddy." Hutch said softly "Just sit tight for a minute, okay?" He eased Starsky back against the tub and stood up, for the first time noticing the deep gash in the back of his own hand. It was bleeding heavily and hurt like hell but Hutch wasn't concerned about himself, he was more worried about Starsky and his current state of mind.

Stepping to the sink, Hutch turned on the cold water and rinsed off his own hand, hissing with pain. Opening the medicine cabinet with his uninjured hand, he found an opened bottle of peroxide but nothing more usual than that. Working with his good hand, he opened the peroxide and poured some over the back of his injured hand, a muffled curse escaping from his tightly drawn lips as the antiseptic foamed up cleaning the wound.

Holding his injured hand against his chest, he went into the other room and grabbed his shaving kit from his suitcase. Hutch believed in always being prepared for anything, so besides his personal hygiene items, he always carried emergency supplies with him in case he needed them. He hurried back into the bathroom and knelt beside Starsky, pausing only long enough to wrap his own injured hand tightly before turning his attention to his friend.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the wounds on Starsky's right wrist and forearm weren't that serious. He carefully cleaned the cuts and bandaged them. Starsky sat passively, watching as Hutch tended to his wounds. When he had finished, Hutch slipped an arm around Starsky's waist and pulled the brunet to his feet. Starsky allowed Hutch to lead him back into the bedroom and settle him down on the bed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, Hutch reached out and ran his fingers through Starsky's thick dark curls. In a quiet, gentle voice he said, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay." Starsky mumbled, turning his head to avoid looking into his partner's concerned eyes.

"Don't ever do anything like that again, pal. Okay?" Hutch said in a shaky voice that betrayed his own emotional distress. Now that the crisis was over, Hutch's emotions were overwhelming the sensitive blond.

"I'm sorry, Hutch." Starsky said, turning his head back to look at his friend, his sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears. For the first time, he noticed Hutch's bandaged hand. "What happened?" he asked in a worried voice. "Did I hurt you?"

"It's nothing." Hutch said evasively "Just a little cut."

"I'm sorry, Blondie." Starsky said, the tears falling freely from his eyes, his own emotions dangerously close to the edge. He choked back a sob and blinked back his tears. "I…I wanna die, Hutch. I should have died over there the first time. I should never have made it home."

"Stop talking like that!" Hutch demanded sharply. "You're not gonna die, pal. Not today or anytime soon! I'm not going to let you!"

"You gonna watch me twenty-four hours a day, Blintz?" Starsky said with a rueful smile. "You can't stop me forever."

"No, but I can stop you for now and that's enough." Hutch said firmly. He reached out and grabbed Starsky's chin in his hand, looking deeply into those dark blue eyes. "I've already found out what it feels like to think you're dead. I can't go through that again! I won't!" His voice was low and quiet but filled with a steely determination.

"So if I die, you die too. Is that it?" Starsky asked with a trace of bitterness and resignation in his voice.

"You got it, buddy." Hutch said gravely. "Cause I don't have a life without you…at least not one worth living." He sighed heavily and stretched out on the bed beside his friend. Almost instinctively, Starsky moved closer to cuddle up against Hutch's side, resting his head on the blond's shoulder. It was the only place he had ever truly felt safe, at his partner's side.

"It hurts, Hutch…" he whimpered "It hurts so damned much."

"I know it does." Hutch whispered, slipping his arms around the smaller man's shoulders and holding him close to his heart. "But I'm here now and we'll get through this together…me and thee, remember?"

"They forced me to kill people, Hutch…people they judged and found guilty of war crimes."

"I know…"

"They used me." Starsky said in a broken voice. "They lied to me! They took everything away from me that meant anything! My job…my life…you…"

"I know they did and they're gonna pay for that. I promise." Hutch said his voice as cold as ice.

"They won't just go away, Hutch." Starsky said somberly "They want me dead and now they're going to have to kill you too for helping me."

"We're not dead yet, pal." Hutch said with a faint smile. "Those documents are enough to hang the bastards. All we have to do is make sure they get into the right hands."

"It still won't make it go away." Starsky said sadly. "It won't undo what they made me do. People are still dead, Hutch and I'm the one who killed them."

"Shhhhh…" Hutch said soothingly. "You need to rest, we both do. We can talk about this when we get back home."

"Hutch…I'm scared." Starsky admitted, his voice colored with shame at his admission.

"I know." Hutch said, brushing a light kiss across those soft curls. "Go to sleep. I'm right here and I'm not going any place."

Starsky sighed heavily and fell quiet, burying his face against Hutch's shoulder. Within a few minutes, his breathing deepened and evened out as he slowly relaxed and fell into an exhausted slumber. Hutch lay there, staring into the darkness and listening to his friend breathing, comforted by the warmth of the slender body in his arms. Starsky's words had cut deep, wounding the blond who guiltily blamed himself for not finding his friend sooner and preventing his eventual breakdown. He had a lot to make up for.

They were both awake early the next morning, anxious to continue their journey home. Hutch checked them out of the motel and they caught a cab to head to the airport. As the driver maneuvered his way through the early morning traffic, Starsky sighed and said wistfully, "I should have called Ma while I was here to let her know that I'm alive."

Hutch felt his heart twist with pain at his partner's words. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to tell his partner the news that would break his heart. "Starsk…uh…I don't know how to tell you this but…uh…your Ma…" he paused and swallowed hard unable to trust his voice to continue.

Starsky looked into those ice blue eyes, his own eyes filling with a deep sadness that broke Hutch's heart. In a barely audible voice, the brunet whispered, "Ma's dead, isn't she?"

"Yeah, buddy…she is." Hutch admitted somberly.

Starsky turned his head to stare out of the window, shutting Hutch out for the moment as his grief at his loss overwhelmed him. In a choked voice, he said, "I should have been here. She died because of me…"

"That's not true." Hutch said, reaching out to clasp Starsky's shoulder in a gesture of comfort and consolation. "The doctor said it was her heart…"

"When?" Starsky asked, his voice turning cold and hard.

"About four months ago." Hutch told him. "I'm sorry, buddy. I'm so sorry."

"What about Nick?" Starsky asked, inquiring about his younger brother who still lived in New York with his mother.

"He took off after she died. Nobody knows where he went." Hutch told him. "He sold everything and just took off."

Starsky fell quiet once more and remained silent for the rest of the drive to the airport, mourning the mother who had sent him away from home when he was thirteen to give him a chance at a better life. He wondered what else had changed in the past two years since he had been away. New York had not been his home for several years, but it would always hold a place in his heart.

At the airport, the two friends confirmed their reservations, still using the names they had used on the flight from Paris. They had timed it so they were able to board the plane almost immediately. The sooner they got back to Bay City the better. They were still booked in the first class section, an extravagance that had been paid for by their new friends in Viet Nam. The extra roomy accommodations were a blessing to Hutch with his long legs and lanky frame.

Starsky remained silent until after the plane was in the air. He accepted a cold soda from the flight attendant, rewarding her with a crooked smile. "They lied, Hutch…about everything." He said somberly

"I know." Hutch said, remembering the information contained in the documents tucked away in his suitcase, the only evidence confirming what had happened to Starsky and the men who were responsible.

"I could have re-qualified. I could have gotten back on the force if they hadn't interfered."

"Once we get home and get this mess straightened up, you still could," Hutch told him encouragingly.

Starsky slowly shook his head. "I don't wanna be a cop no more…even if they'd let me. I can't forget what I did over there…what I became…"

"You mean what they made you into." Hutch said "There's a big difference." He had faith that the goodness and integrity that was the essential core of the man beside him was still intact in spite of the things he had been forced to do. All he had to do was make Starsky realize that. The two friends fell into a comfortable silence as their flight continued towards home.