Circle of Grief: Chapter 21
"You need to do what's right- just once!" Monster yelled, scolding Sonora like she was a child.
She fled Monster and Agent Moon's words, their verbal lashing and castigation – how dare they give her orders! When she couldn't take anymore of them, Sonora ran off.
"Papa!" She cried out to her dead father, a cry for help, a demand for his intervention- his wrath. He'd told her Latrielles ruled the land with an iron fist, they had their way in the world- they barked and people jumped-they didn't take shit from anyone - that's what he'd told her.
The world, her world, her life, was falling apart. There was no one left who cared about what she wanted, needed, or about her birth-right to power. Anyone and everybody could tell her what to do, where to go and how to feel! And now-they demanded that she give up the only thing she had left...Ken.
So she'd run from them, even though she was terrified of the night and the men thirsty for her blood, hidden in the ebony curtains of nighttime...wanting to kill her.
Then- she'd seen the person she hated more than any other, skulking off into the dark.
She didn't know why she had to follow him into the darkness. Maybe b she didn't trust him? Maybe waiting for an unexpected opportunity? She didn't know why she did the things she did. The world...and everything in it twisting in her head, just like the night wind. Every snap of twig and wavering branch could be someone coming for her, but driven by impulse and hatred, she went after him.
After all…this was all his fault.
~sOs~
Starsky was waiting...hiding in the thicket of bushes and shadows…waiting for Dobey's flashing S.O.S from the river bank on the other side of the rushing water, when he heard something creeping in the brush.
He feigned ignorance for a beat, and then leaped at the body sneaking up on him.
A woman's yelp- and in the next beat he realized the petite form with a bounty of hair squashed under him, was Sonora.
"Wha tha? Wha the hell are you doing?" he uttered with a growling hiss.
"Get off of me," she squealed back.
"Quiet!" Starsky whispered harshly, trying to stop her from drawing attention.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do!"
She pushed him away. And he could see the scowl on her face- a sliver of the moon's light hitting it, making her look more deranged than normal. Her partially eclipsed face and long tendrils floating and snapping in the air brought to mind pictures he'd seen of Medusa.
"You musta completely fallen off your rocker-coming up behind me like that!" Starsky barked. Wincing, he drew up a hand to his bad shoulder as he stood, towering over her.
Rising too, Sonora continued to verbally assault him. "Why...why did you come and ruin what we had! We were happy! I want you to leave... leave us alone... just go!"
She waved her arms at him, delivering threatening jabs at his chest.
Starsky didn't have time for this, her crazy posturing could draw attention and ruin everything- she could jeopardize everything. There was no time or space for one of her tempestuous, attention-getting tantrums. Hutch's life was still on the line.
Sonora had pushed him... beyond his limit.
The enraged woman beat fist on his arms.
"Ken loves me... and you can't stand that he chose me... not you...you don't want him to be happy...you selfish cretin! Why can't you let him be happy...leave.. us...alone!"
The straw...breaking the back of a herdof camels.
He got in her space, angling his head like a rattlesnake's tail ready to strike... "There's no more games, missy. I'm done with you. You hear? If you think-I'm going to leave Hutch- with you? Then- you have lost your mind. S' never gonna happen- not when you tried to drug him into submittin'. Not now-not ever. Never. Not as long as I got a pulse and a heartbeat. Got that? You bet all the loose screws rattling around your head-as soon as we're out of this... you come anywhere near him..."
Starsky allowed his most malevolent sneer to surface, "...I won't be responsible...for my actions. You understand?" An sharp nod to solidify the promise he'd made.
"Who are you to threaten me. You! You're nothing'" She spat, sneering back at him, and got in his face. "It's in my power to make you…..disappear, do you understand?"
Red-faced, Starsky's temper screeching like a kettle left on the stove turned up all the way up to high. "You think you're running the show? You're crazy! Crazy!" he grabbed at her. "You? Order a hit?" Cruelly mocking her, he laughed, "You couldn't order a pizza delivery. Look..." he jerked her around, dragging her through the brush. "This is reality, You got nuthin', no home, no friends, no money, non - husband! Nothing. Your reign of terror is on shutdown. Zak's kid, playing mob princess- that gig is over. You're on the run. Ya get that?" He spun her around in a circle, stopping her on the points of an invisible compass- north, south east and west, and announcing at each abrupt stop- " Target on your back here, target on your back there, and here and here- you're finished! You raise you're messed up head above above water anywhere- and-" he paused for effect, while whipping her through the precise NSEW points her again. "BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!"
When he stopped, the abject horror on Sonora's face brought him down just a notch.
"I don't why you came out here?" he said. " What you were looking for? What kinda mercy you expectin' from me... after the little you showed him?" Starsky choked, on his anger and the sorrow of how she had so horribly damaged his partner. "How much mercy...did you show him? Huh?"
"No!" she shrieked, eyes wide and wild, jumping at him, swinging her fist at his face.
She was strong, stronger than he expected, it was hard to stop her...fight her...one-handed. He groaned, twisted his head back and away from the nails trying to gouge out skin.
The ear-shattering explosion brought the fight to its end. They hit dirt, the ground rocked and rumbling beneath them.
Fire from the blast bloomed, framed by a gigantic growing white cloud.
Starsky knew exactly what that blast meant.
"Noooo, no, no, no, no..." a horrified Starsky chanted at chanted at the sight of part of the bridge they were about to cross, crumble and collapse. Rising partially off the ground he was stupefied - the help for his partner was on the other side of river.
The movement of Dobey and his people was highlighted by the blazing and burning detonated bridge. Starsky, frozen by shock, caught the searching gaze of his captain running to the edge of the river bank. Dobey's expression- angsty and hopeless. They stared at each other, knowing that all of Dobey's efforts to rescue them was going up in smoke. Dobey shook his head, utterly distraught over what was about to happen. They both knew it would be minutes or seconds before a swarm of assassins would be mobilized to finish the job of killing Latrielle and anyone who got in their way.
On cue, Sonora started shrieking and Starsky rolled, tackling her and clasped a hand over her mouth. "Quiet!" he hissed into her ear. "Wanna get us killed?"
There was a strange ominous silence and then another earth-shaking explosion, even louder than the first. The rumble after it sounded like the loudest roll of thunder ever and they all gasped, wide-eyed and watched the rest of the wood and iron structure's final destruction.
Starsky's heart thumped in his chest. "Hutch?" his whispered question. "C'mon" he told Sonora, as he jerked to her feet, sparing one last look at his worried friend across the deep river before taking off to his wounded partner.
He had bolted back toward the Winnebago like a madman. Unconcerned with Sonora's stumbling, barely able to keep up with him. Repeated gun fire popped and crackled behind them-Dobey's men being shot at, and returning fire. In front of him-more shooting from where the Winnebago had been. His heart pounded ferociously, but Starsky propelled forward, picking up his speed as his fear for Hutch rose up to an unbearable crest.
"Oh God, please…" He'd cried out, as they came to the clearing, fully expecting to see the van fully engulfed or riddled with bullets.
Stunned by what he did see, he came to a full stop, despite the sound and whizzing of gunfire
coming from everywhere.
There was Frank.
Running.
And there was Hutch... protectively gathered close to the behemoth's chest. Even in the dark, Starsky could see him, surprisingly fast for a man of his size, serpentine sprints as he ran, using his massive frame to shield Starsky's partner from further harm. August, strategically one step behind him, her weapon drawn, covering for them while she blasted away at the enemy hidden in the bush.
"C'mon, Sarge!" Frank yelled to him, running toward a drop off dense with big-leafed trees. Starsky took a beat to process that all-had not been loss. There was still something to live for his soul cried out, and he gratefully shook his head. "Right," he yelled back, following after the same man...the same Monster, who under orders from Sonora, had carried off his best friend out of his life-
And now...
– and now was the man risking his own life to carry his partner to him, and out of the clutches of certain death.
It was mind-numbingly profound, on way too many metaphoric levels… too deep for him to give it the proper consideration of its meaning, and substance. They were being at shot at.
So he just kept moving.
They scrambled, practically tumbling down the bumpy ravine. Then onto flat ground. Down a rugged path, shouts of the men coming from the darkness above them.
A signal from Frank brought them to a halt.
Beside him, Sonora was heaving for breath, and Starsky realized he still had a tight grip on her. He let go. Feeling like he was in a surreal and parallel world, his confused glaze flitted between Frank and August, until a shock of white blond hair captured it. "Hutch?" he asked about his friend's condition, reaching out to examine him.
"He's alright," Frank assured, and then said, "This way." Breathing heavily, the bodyguard nodded to the dark shadows on the right. Starsky didn't bother to ask where they were going.
When it had started raining Starsky hadn't noticed. But the ping of the raindrops echoed inside of the construction tunnel. Wide, dark and deep, they could all stand up inside of it. They probably looked like a pack of startled wet rats. Out of breathe and soaked to the bone, each of them struggling to regain some composure - they had just all run for their lives.
Starsky sucked down one last clarifying gulp of air. He allowed his eyes to adjust to the natural night light coming through both ends of the huge metal tube, his stare finally levelly to see the need in Frank's eyes. The giant was sinking, losing his hold on Hutch, and Starsky swiftly moved to take Hutch from. "I got 'im," he said, and Frank biting back a muffled groan, released his hold.
He took the weight of Hutch's limp, and lanky body mostly on his injured right side and held him up with his left. He eased them both against the slick-with-mold wall, and carefully sliding down onto his butt, pulling his unconscious friend across his body. There on the ground, Starsky went to work taking care of his buddy. He caught up bunches of Hutch's soaked clothes in a fist, squeezing as much of the rain from them as he could. "How did you know about this place?" he asked Frank, but kept his eyes on his friend, focused on his work.
"I took a look around. Soon's we got here, I figured we might need to take advantage of knowin' the lay out. There's a few deserted construction sites around here...this place s'probably been here for decades – this, I don't know- storm drain, whatever it is- it's like part of the forest, now. I...um," He paused, one of his hands grabbing out for something to hold onto and August, was there to help. It was when they turned that Starsky saw the row of bullet wounds across the massive shoulders and broad back. Three, maybe four tell-tale red holes.
Bullets taken for Hutch.
"Oh...you're hit." Starsky saying it like maybe Frank hadn't known he had been shot up.
"Sit here." August, taking charge, wasn't taking no for an answer. Frank, gingerly slung an arm over her shoulder, whispered something to her and August answered softly, tightening the grip she had around his waist.
It was a weirdly intimate exchange.
"I...I just need...need a minute here." The big man, sounding spent, said to him. August helped the giant to get off his feet.
"Don't lean back on the wall," the woman agent ordered. "Slimy." Frank nodded and their eyes stayed on each other.
Sonora, veiled in gray mist, cried and whimpered.
Starsky looked down at his partner. Two of them, now... no, he himself had taken a slug in his shoulder-then it was three of them now wounded. The odds weren't looking good- no, they were terrible. Maybe...maybe this old abandoned tunnel would be their last resting place.
Sorry, buddy I tried so hard to get us outta this…
As if Frank had read his mind, he spoke to him, right on cue. "Sarge..."
Crippled by oppressive anguish, Starsky could only listen. Couldn't speak, afraid he'd start bawling. But he kept working on trying to rub and squeeze the water out of Hutch's clothes.
"...there's...a...another way out."
Starsky raised his hand to Hutch's wet hair, pressing and squeezing. Hutch's eyes shut tight, like an agonized man lost in a faraway place. Thank God, he wasn't awake. But he was pale...paler than he was a few hours earlier.. a twinge of blue on his lips and in the thin translucent skin under his eyes. How much can a man survive? Overwrought, with the thought of losing his best friend he pulled the man in his arm closer. In his anguished he begged his partner. "Please...
please.. don't...don't.. don't die, don't leave me..."
"Sarge?"
His mind was on a delay, had he heard ...
...there's a way out?
Starsky forced his head up.
Frank gave him a confirming, compromised from pain smile
~sOs~
"A train?"
"Yeah, freight train."
"Who knows when the next one is..."
"Doesn't matter Sarge. All we need's one...pulling outta here. Before any of those guys trying to kill us- find us." Frank gritted down a moan, gingerly shifting his position.
He had to be in terrible pain, the big man had insisted he was in good enough shape to carry Hutch when they made the move. The tunnel, he said, would discharged them into a basin. A basin, about five hundred yards from the small rail yard. Frank said he'd spied activity at the station, monitoring as best he could over the five hours they had been hold up in the area.
"There's only just a couple of guys in the...aw..." Frank, wincing, stopped, he dropped his head just slightly. Like he was riding out a wave a pain, fat beads of sweat formed on his forehead and cheek. Partially composed he went on explaining the lay out, "...those men stay up front, to talk to the driver...anybody can hitch a ride on one of the freight cars in the rear, without drawing their attention. Somewhere in the next hour or so... another one's coming through here. They'll make a stop, maybe..."
"Yeah, maybe..." Starsky repeated, hope pounding his heart so hard he wondered if the other man could hear.
~sOs~
A train did stop. A nice long one. Soft-footed, cautious, they came out of hiding. Slipping and ducking in the shadows as they made their way to it.
Frank carried Hutch, an arm underneath the blond cop's knees and across Hutch's back. Despite his pain, Frank didn't let his load dip or sway. Starsky was in awe. The big man had to be in agony, but didn't show it. He was in extreme guardian-mode. The man's whole being - charged, electrified by his call to duty, and it was sight like none other.
~sOs~
"I don't know if I can do it," Sonora said.
Frank took her hand into his, looking deep into her eyes, he gave her a understanding smile, "I'll help you. I'm always gonna be there to help you."
~sOs~
The rumble and chug of the freight train vibrated under him, and Starsky shouted, "C'mon!" Reaching out a hand to Frank, August and Sonora. "Hurry!"
There was no movement and Starsky shouted at them again, "Hurry, this thing is taking off. Now!"
He raised up on his knees, incredulous, as he watched them huddle closer together, unified in their collective lack of response to his cries.
Sonora had a stream of plump tears etching rivers down her face. She was sobbing, but shockingly shaking her head 'no'. Her wounded and waning bodyguard had her ensconced in his hefty arms… the pained smile on his face was one of a proud father, acknowledging his child had finally done something surprisingly redeeming.
"We...we ain't goin', Sarge," Frank stated, wheezing out the agony his bullet-ridden back was causing him.
"What? You're crazy… you... need to get some help, how far you gonna get in your shape?" A confused Starsky warned.
"It's nothing," the big muscled-man half-joked, "I'm thick skinned… feels like buckshot, that's all. I been hurt worse than this before. 'Sides-you two are safer without us."
The screechy, rusty squeal of the wheels, and pungent fumes of diesel fuel and exhaust filled the air.
Sonora gasped, she reached for Hutch- and Frank, frowning with the pain for the effort, lifted her up to say her goodbyes. High enough for her to press a wet cheek on the tip of Hutch's head. Her shaking fingers seeking.
"I do love you, always You hear me?" she said. "We know, you and I…" She spoke of the love she believed they'd shared, a torrent of tears streaming down her flushed and dirty face. "I'm sorry, for everything, sweetie… I only wanted…you. I still want you.. I love you. No matter what happens...or what anyone ever tells you.''
Hutch's delirium-twinged eyes fluttered opened for her. "Sonora?"
"No matter what…happens…to me… I'll always, always want you. Always love…you. Maybe...maybe… this will prove how much. You'll always be in my heart….I promise, love." She kissed his hair and face and his tear-laced eyelashes.
The train was moving.
Frank whispered, lightly pulling her back "It's time."
"I-I have to go." The sobbing woman told the man she loved.
"Wait…no...no..." Hutch murmured, weakly raising a hand to clutch the fingers caressing his face "Don't … don't go."
"I love you," she called out, their hands slowly losing hold of each other as the train's speed picked up.
Starsky, stupefied by the emotional goodbye, shook off the image of it. He scrambled closer to the edge of the car. Wide-eyed in disbelief. "August!" he called out to the FBI agent who hadn't moved an inch to join the Bay City cops, finally able to flee from danger.
She just gave a slight, mischievous grin, waving farewell, "I'm on assignment, remember?
But they both knew she wasn't acting under the auspices of the Bureau anymore. Her hair, for the first time, let loose, blew freely in the wind.
Hutch, behind him tried to rollover, an arm reaching out to the woman he had been so inexplicably in love with. "NO!" was Hutch's distraught cry.
Afraid his partner might take a plunge out of the car to the ground below, Starsky grabbed him up, pulling him to his chest. "No, don't. I got cha," he spoke into Hutch's ear, but Starsky's stupefied gaze stayed on the three people that had stayed behind. An hysterical Sonora was plastered to Frank's chest. Starsky stared into the big man's solemn face. Blinking away at the blurring, pooling hot wetness in his own eyes, Frank's was crying, he could see that even as the moving train picked up speed, putting more and more distance between the fleeing cops and the people on the ground….the ex-mob hitman, the renegade FBI agent, and Sonora Latrielle, mafia princess on the run. All of them now left behind to fight off an army of rabid and determined assassins- all on their own. Certain and obvious death…awaiting them. No greater love is how some might describe it…wasn't that the truth of it? At this moment Starsky struggled with grasping that truth.
It was confusing as hell. What had just happened? The cold-hearted witch that had wrecked and ruined the lives of everyone who had the misfortune of meeting her… so villainous she had ordered the murder of fathers, and sons, and brothers… without consideration? Was he supposed to believe that love, no matter how twisted and damaged the woman's psyche… that LOVE compelled her to see someone else's need were greater than her own selfish ones?
And Frank and August? Taking the heat, knowing all gun sights on Sonora's back – by association – were on theirs, too.
It was also the truth though, that nobody gave a crap about him and Hutch, wouldn't bother to come after them.
Would the people he just left behind have a chance? With a back full of lead, how far would Frank get? No matter how tough he said he was, sooner or later he'd succumb, and drop to his knees. August and Sonora couldn't shoulder the weight of keeping him on his feet and running. They were all as good as dead, and that was a conclusion that they all had to considered, had to have realized.
"Ken!" He heard her yelling, and looked up to see Sonora running. Running after them "Ken! Don't forget! Remember your promise," she cried. "Remember! And I'll remember too, Ken! Your promise!"
Starsky watched her collapse in a messy heap, the wounded giant and August slowly making their way to her.
"Sonora," Hutch muttered, and he shushed him.
~ sos~
Having feasted on clementines, cold chicken, and wine, they lay on their stomachs, a green blanket keeping the damp grass from dampening their clothes. Playing a game of who could stare at the other the longest before blinking-a kid's game turning serious very quickly when he couldn't look away from her. Looking into her. Sonora's long lashes dipped shyly and she gazed up at him. "You know, when I was a little, I wished I had wings...so I could fly away. Don't you think that makes me sound like the craziest little girl in the world?"
"Nope," he said, his fingers gently outlining her diamond-shaped chin. "Know why?" he asked.
"No." She glanced down again.
"Because – I wish I had wings right now! And-I'd take you in my arms and see that-," he pointed at the exquisite blue, cloudless sky, "I'd take you right up there. Way up high, above the world and its problems... just the two of us."
She giggled at him stretching out his arms like he could fly.
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" the warmth in her laughter made him grin.
"Like it. I'd love it! That'd make you my guardian Angel, wouldn't it?''
He sat back on his heels, studying her. "Is that what you need, sweetheart?"
"I wouldn't deserve it," his wife said. Gloomy, she shook her head, "Ken, if you only knew...I've done things... some very bad things… and if you were an angel, you'd hate me."
"Shh," he said, reaching for her.
"No, it's true." She pushed his hands away, unable to look into his face. "I read somewhere about this village, the people there believed that you could see right into a person's soul, all the good, or bad. They believed when you looked into someone's eyes, you'd know their whole story. When I look into yours," she picked up one his hands, holding onto it for dear life. "...even though I don't everything about your past, I can see all the good you've done. How much love you've given and have to give, and yes, to me, you are like an angel. But I'm so afraid...when you look into my eyes...what you must think of me. Surely you have to see the truth, and I can't lie to you anymore about who or what I am.. I can't. If you knew it all-you wouldn't love me at all…you wouldn't want to be my angel..."
"Wait, wait a minute! Look at me, sweetheart," he begged. "Do you think I don't have things in my life I'm not proud of- you tell me I was a cop. You don't think one day I'll remember the people I've come up against- and some of the things I had to do to them. Hurting, shooting… killing. Having to put aside mercy for hard justice. A badge may have given me the right- but do you think because I had a badge, that washes my hands clean? Hmm?"
She frowned at his attempt to make her feel better.
"Everybody has something they're not proud of- that eats away at them."
"It's not the same," Sonora sounded sad. "I'm... I'm not like other..." her voice barely above a whisper, "...like other people."
He sighed, shaking his head at her confession, "Heck, the world sure would be boring if we all were the same, wouldn't it?"
"You don't understand..."
"Besides," he told her, "... all I see, when I look into your eyes, is how much you love me."
She was inconsolable, but an idea energized him. He snapped his fingers. "Wait! Wait," he said excitedly. "Let's make a promise."
His animation earned him her curiosity; she raised her eyes, looking into his. "A promise?"
He pulled her to him, a firm and loving hand to the small of her back, They were face to face. "Yes. One between you and me," he answered, blessing her neck with his lips.
"We love each other, don't we?" his voice husky with want.
"...love each other?" Repeating his words, she was breathless, falling deep into the spell of his lips and strong hands.
"...no matter what..." he continued, his mouth edging closer and closer to hers.
"No…mat.."
"You say it," he urged her with his caresses.
"No matter…" she said
"No matter what." He said again.
"No matter what. You promise?" She begged of him, speaking the words into his opening mouth, their lips touching.
"I promise, sweetheart." He meant it and she, believing him, clung onto him with passionate desperation. "I promise...I promise…I promise."
Desire and the urgency to prove his love to her silenced him.
But the words remained...
Rolling and morphing from his voice to someone else' s...
I promise...I promise…I promise
I promise…I promise
I promise…
I promise…
I'll find you, Hutch. I promise, hear me? I'll find you!
….gunfire cracking and popping all around, the threatening sound of danger pinging off the backdoor and sides of the speeding van. He dragged Sonora to her feet, protectively curling his body around her.
...shouts of August and Starsky coming from the front seat and the rapid fire of the return blasts at the cars filled with gunmen hot on their tail...breaking out a small window with the butt of his Python he shot through it at the driver in the first car...bullets from their weapons penetrating metal, began to increasingly zip-zag and rattle inside the van...turning to shoot another round at them when.. he felt the heated metal pierce his flesh...
He gasped, paralyzed by shock. He'd been shot. The hot searing pain dropped him like a knockout punch.
"Sta-rr-sky," he called out for his help.
~sos~
"Starsk…Starsk...help...help me." Hutch groaned, curling into him, "Th-they shot..shot me," he mumbled, glassy eyes staring up into Starsky's face. "Need a hosp..."
"I know…. I know, buddy…" he said, apologizing to his friend who was finally coming out of his drug-induced stupor. "Seems like we been taking the long way around-but that's exactly where we're headed, part'nr."
Hutch's eyes opened more fully, suspiciously taking the sight of the hay-covered floor of the giant metal tin can train car they had hitched a ride in. "Where?" he asked, confused by the surroundings.
Starsky just shook his head, how could he explain everything that had put them there?
"I'm gonna take care of everything." He felt, more that thought about the next question that rose up out of him with a universe full of meaning and importance elevating it. "You trust me?"
The tension in the body he had wrapped his good arm tightly around, relaxed, Hutch's head resting on his shoulder blade. His blond partner's nod searing an intoxicating joy fully onto his heart. "Trust ya, Starsk," Hutch whispered to him.
Trust?
An exhausted and emotional Starsky found himself being poked and prodded by that word again… but, this time-
It didn't make him feel crazed or resentful.
This time- he felt giddy- overcome by its present incarnation. With Hutch and him- trust was a word that had no weak and wobbly underside, no maybe-if-or when double meaning, no best-but failing effort, it was an unquestionable, undeniable, un-matched, unshakable certainty.
Do you trust me?
All the people along this insane and destructive journey- who had posed that question, didn't know what they were asking from him—when they asked for his trust. Because none of them – not one – could ever know the depth of the 'Me and Thee' partnership and how it had changed the meaning of the word trust for him...forever.
Every step of the way he'd been plagued by people asking him to just give to them what he held in such high esteem, the thing that sustained his sanity, his being...his spirit...his soul. No wonder he felt compelled to reject and debate if they knew what they were asking of him.
Trust was no joke, couldn't be sealed with a casual 'sure, okay'- trust had to be earned, forged by two people willing to give all of themselves to each other, who put everything on the line, day after day- being present with each other, to lend a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, sacrifice it all- without hesitation, if need be.
But wait, how could he reconcile what Frank, and August had just done for them?
And Sonora? Was her last act of redemption enough to redeem her?
No—not in his eyes, not in his book.
He could never forgive her. Never. He wasn't made that way. Nobody got a pass on harming his partner. And as a cop, he'd seen too much in life to believe anyone as diabolically narcissistic as Sonora Latrielle, could have her demons exorcised by one single moment of acting like a human being.
Starsky's head and heart ached from wrestling with what it all meant.
It was all too much to think about. He needed to just concentrate on being thankful. He closed his eyes. Was that all that mattered? He didn't know. But it felt so good to have made it out of the burning inferno he and his partner had been shoved into.
Hutch moaned, a weary protest of his discomfort. "Ugh... hurtin'." His desperate eyes locking Starsky's gaze on him. "Y-you're gonna help me?" Hutch asked, looking as vulnerable as any bed-bedridden child.
Starsky leaned into him, rubbing a cheek against his blond partner's fevered brow. "Yeah, I'm gonna help ya, buddy," he choked back a wave of sobbing. Playing it strong for his suffering partner.
"Sta..." Hutch, obviously receiving the gift of Starsky's strength, sighed, his breath grazing Starsky's neck.
"It's alright," Starsky made another promise to his friend, one he was certain of because for the first time in a long while, he knew in his heart- Hutch would be okay. He added to it, "We made it, partner…we made it."
He leaned back, feeling the chugging and bumping of the ride to freedom on his back, taking on more and more of the weight of the lanky body of his partner, seeking comfort in his arms.
~sHs~
Hutch swallowed hard, like he had a nasty taste on his tongue, speaking with difficulty, "Had, umm…dream," he murmured.
"It's alright, you're in the hospital now, buddy."
"Nooo.. had...dream…'bout…Frank…and..."
"Shhh," Starsky told him,
"...and she...she was there….and..."
"C'mon, buddy, just rest, huh?"
".. and you...you were…there..." Hutch shuddered when he finished his revelation.
"Shhh. Sleep."
Hutch quieted.
"A dream, huh?" Starsky looked over his partner with unmeasurable fondness. This tall fair-haired, long-legged, big-hearted man meant the world to him.
Starsky wanted to tell his borderline-conscious friend, yell it to the rafters- that it was no dream. But a living nightmare which could have killed them both.
Hutch muttered some more words as he fought sedation, then drifted back into sleep.
"Wish it was all a dream," Starsky reflected on the nagging worry that hadn't left him, even though they had found their way to safety.
He couldn't help but think about what had been the fate of the man who had taken a back full of lead for his partner and the woman mobster, Starsky had spent almost two years despising. Now- he just couldn't hate her the way he wanted to.
Hutch was alive because of her and the Monster. Because of Frank…
Hutch's body stirred under the palm he had kneading healing into him.
Hutch was alive...a hollow ache shot through his wounded shoulder. And Starsky was glad for it, he much rather this pain—pain that ripped through his human flesh—rather than the agony and torture his soul would have been in, if Hutch would have died out there in some dusty, back road, two lane highway. That would have been hell and Starsky's body may have survived the assassin's bullet, but his spirit would have gone up with Hutch's … left this world for sure, leaving a hollowed-out man in its haste.
He was confounded about how fate… divinity had played a reversal of fortune act on them. Sonora and Monster had nearly destroyed them, and the end...had saved them?
Had saved him-
Saved a cop's partner and in the meantime David Starsky's sanity in the process.
It was a story Starsky couldn't tell and relate to the listener how it all happened.
Had it all been a bad dream? That would make more sense.
And was it really all over?
Something felt unfinished, undone, in his gut.
The scary part was, that all his years as a cop taught him...life didn't leave things undone forever.
Stories always had real endings, however long it took, nothing left undone stayed hidden forever...circle of life – however you wanted to tag it.
He saw from the side of his eyes the door open.
"Hey man," a voice said.
It was Huggy.
"How'sz he doin' today?"
Starsky's nod suggested some improvement
Huggy studied him, and Starsky tried to hide any expression on his face that might show his thoughts and fear.
"Yeah." Huggy said quietly "I know, man. You think they made it?"
Starsky shrugged. They both knew Huggy was talking about the tiny woman and the giant. Could they be alive or dead— on the lam? Or in a bizarre twist of fate- in some torture chamber dungeon with a bunch of very angry mob goons.
And what of the Bureau's agent? August? She'd done them wrong, but didn't deserve to lose her life over her betrayal.
Starsky didn't want to call them up – wouldn't speak their names out loud. Guilty-because he hadn't pray for their well-being. Couldn't.
"Don't know," he answered tiredly.
Huggy easily picked up on his desire not to talk of them and he gave Starsky a supportive pat. "Well, I'm just glad to have my buddies back." The skinny man's eyes welled up and Starsky smiled appreciatively at the emotion showing in them.
"Hey, we're glad to be back—glad to be anywhere."
They shared a grin and then Huggy dragged a chair over to the bed to join his friend, and the night vigil.
Hutch woke up several hours later, confused and scared-wanted to know where he was and Starsky told him he was safe.
His fair-haired partner looked up at him and then to Huggy and apparently comfortable that it was enough of an explanation—his eyes fluttered shut, and he went back to sleep.
"Guess, you'll have to tell him what happened out there at some point," Huggy said.
Starsky sighed at the stark truth, scrubbing at his tired eyes."Don't mean I have to tell 'im everything. Don't know yet, if I'll tell him all of it."
They stared at each other until the bartender nodded his agreement. "I hear ya. What he don't know..."
Won't hurt him?
Every side of this story harbored pain.
"Just gotta see how it goes, you know?"
"Yep. I gotcha back, whatever you need, man."
Some things had to be measured, when he sorted out in his head what was best for Hutch, that's what he would do, both he and Huggy knew that was the way it would go.
The newest visitor to the room, pulled out the daily paper from his jacket pocket, and a huge submarine sandwich wrapped in white deli paper out of a bag.
"Lookie what I got."
"No... from Mancini's?" Starsky gushed approvingly.
"I figured you find your appetite once you gotta whiff of one of his Italian specials..."
"Oh, Hug... have I told ya, I love ya, lately?"
"No you haven't and don't think I haven't noticed. It's nice to hear it now and then..." the bartender joked, handing over the sub.
"Maybe I'll save Hutch a corner of it..." The dark-haired man's face lit up at the prospect of feeding his best friend.
"Ah, the nurses'll a killya, bro, are you kiddin'?"
"Hey, I need to work on fattenin' him back up."
"I thought you wuz the one complainin' about his food choices as of late..."
"This...is Mancini's!" Starsky clarified the difference between the famed sandwich and greasy-spoon junk food.
The banter went on, a wonderful distraction from all the unknowns, and from all the 'what's ahead' questions Starsky couldn't bear to deal with.
Huggy read the paper, sliding over the sports page to his cop pal.
Starsky ate, and gratefully watched restful peace vanquish the lines of pain from his blond buddy's face.
It was the best day he'd had in a long, long time.
~o~
Epilogue
He was bare-foot and bare chested, he only wore thin cotton pants they hung off his bony body. He hugged his aching chest, felt ribs sticking out like those of a starving man. Fumbling, stumbling around in stark whiteness. Alone...so alone. Wasting away...Help! he called out. A tiny form flitted out of nowhere, a woman, her head draped in a black chiffon. She danced, her movement-sensual and flowing. She danced up to him, around, and behind him, her fingers brushing over the surface of his skin. Soon her hands pulled on him, teasing him into her swaying motion – he didn't want to dance, his legs were barely holding him up...she began to claw at him, her nails digging into flesh...
"You sleep? Hey, open your eyes. C'mon, Blondie!"
He clawed his way out of the dream, toward the familiar voice. Starsky's voice-saving him...again.
Happy to leave the unsettling apparition behind, Hutch pushed himself into wakefulness.
His dark-haired partner, in dark sunglasses, blocked out sun that had warmed him into a dosing.
"You okay, Hutch?" Spoken softly, but laden with concern.
Hutch smiled as he cleared his throat, and sat up in the beach chair under him sinking into the hot sand. "Yeah, okay…just enjoying the sun, partner," he answered, reaching out for the lemon ice that was 'just like one of those back east' Starsky had raved about and had stood in a very long line of other beach goers to prove it to him.
Hutch smiled, a big one, hoping to erase the worry from his best pal's face.
It had been three weeks to the day that Starsky had sat on his hospital bed, and told him what he'd survived. Hutch was silent as he listened, and watched Starsky's eyes well with tears and his face flood with the all the angst he must have felt out there trying to keep him alive. He was also sure his partner was keeping out pieces of the nightmare, and that he might never know all if it. How Starsky had accomplished keeping them both alive wasn't a big surprise. Starsky fought for them with the ferociousness of a mama bear.
Hutch couldn't express his gratitude, and he knew he didn't have to, either. Yet his heart just ballooned and swelled up with so much pride for his friend and with so much appreciation for how much this man loved him. And then, in a wave of indefinable sorrow- he had started to cry and hadn't been able to stop. Starsky had slid up close, holding and rocking him until he slept.
Sonora was probably dead. Her, Frank and August, most likely didn't make it- was Starsky's most honest assessment of what happened to them. Hutch understood there were sacrifices made, and Starsky had told him now wasn't the time to make sense of it all.
"Hutch," he'd said, speaking in that way Starsky did when Hutch was at his end, and needed Starsky to tell him what to do, "...we gotta get you strong, buddy. The docs said so. You been sick for too long. You had the drug Archelaus pumped into ya, and then those cluster headaches for close to a year, not eating or sleepin' right for all that time, and now this last thing. A person's body can only withstand so much before things start going haywire. So, they're worried about you heading into some kind of permanent chronic condition. You gotta build yourself back up, build up your strength. God, if anything else happens...Well, they're worried, and I'm worried. That's where we are, and what we got to deal with-what we gotta fix. I know, I know all of this is consuming and I know it could wreck you. But there's been too much wreckin' you, and we gotta stop that. I'm putting a stop to that. We're just gonna work on getting you better, and there ain't nuthin' else on the table. You gotta feel the same way about this, I need you to do that for me, okay?"
And so, that's what he'd try to do, he'd work hard at getting better. Live the wisdom of his partner's instruction. Because he was too weak in his body, and spirit to do otherwise.
And yes, she would come in his dreams and if there was any part of his heart that still belonged to her, he need not worry, because Sonora was gone...most likely...
( ~finis ~)