THE MAN HE USED TO BE

CHAPTER 25

Starsky paced the empty waiting room impatiently. He almost wished that he had taken Hutch up on his offer to stay with him for his first appointment with the psychologist Dr. Riley had suggested. But, Starsky had told Hutch to come back and pick him up in two hours. This was something that he had to do on his own. He knew that the psychologist, a woman named April Stewart, had contacted his various doctors and gotten reports on his medical history. She had also talked to Hutch to gather some background information on their relationship.

Starsky wasn't entirely comfortable talking to anyone but Hutch about things that he considered personal issues but the nightmares and panic attacks were taking their toll. He was willing to try anything to make them stop. Even if it meant baring his soul to a stranger. A rueful smile tugged at his lips. Through the years, Starsky had been required to see the police psychologist on numerous occasions so he could be cleared fit to return to duty. He had become adapt at playing word games to keep from divulging too much personal information to anyone.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he started when a soft voice behind him said, "David?"

Stumbling, and almost losing his balance as he turned around, he caught himself in time, flushing with embarrassment at his awkwardness. He found himself facing a woman about his age with warm brown eyes and long chestnut colored hair hanging down the middle of her back in a thick braid.

"Yeah, that's me." he said self-consciously, his guard instinctively going up now that his session with the doctor was about to begin.

"I'm April Stewart." the woman said pleasantly, gesturing for him to step into her office. "You can call me April. I hate being called Ms. Stewart." She smiled warmly. "Do you mind if I call you David? Or would you prefer that I call you something else?"

"Dave or David…either one is fine." Starsky told her as he entered the neatly arranged office. A large picture window overlooked the city and the only furnishings were a comfortable looking brown leather sofa and matching chair with a coffee table placed between them.

"Please, have a seat." April said, taking a seat in the chair facing the sofa. She leaned back in her chair and looked at him closely as he sat down on the sofa. "I've read your medical records. You have quite a history, even for a highly decorated police officer."

"Shit happens. It comes with the badge."

"This last incident was almost killed you. How do you feel about that?"

"How am I supposed to feel about that?" Starsky snapped, his tone a bit sharper than he intended. "My whole fucking life was turned upside down in a few seconds."

"And you resent that, don't you? It makes you angry."

"Wouldn't you resent it if it happened to you? Wouldn't it make you angry?"

"We're not talking about me. We're talking about you and how you feel," April pointed out in a calm voice that irritated Starsky. "What do you remember about the shooting?"

"Nothing much…just Hutch yelling at me to get down and then the pain," he paused to compose himself. "Terrible pain…then nothing. Not until I woke up in the hospital two weeks later."

"How did you feel when you woke up and found out it was two weeks later?"

"It hurt so fucking much I thought I was gonna die. I just wanted it to stop…not hurt anymore."

"But, you didn't die. Did you?"

"Actually, I did." Starsky said with a ghost of a smile. "For four minutes, the day after the shooting."

"How did you feel when you found out about that?"

"Sometimes I think I'd have better off staying dead."

"Why?"

"Because then I wouldn't have to be here spilling my guts to you."

"You don't like talking about your feelings, do you?"

"I don't see where how I feel is anybody else's business."

"Even if the way you feel affects the people around you? People who love you and care about you?"

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore," Starsky said, starting to rise to his feet.

"Sit down, David," April said firmly. "Running away isn't going to make things any better."

"And talking about it is?" Starsky growled as he sank back down on the sofa.

"It's a start." She smiled encouragingly but Starsky didn't want to listen to what she had to say. His heart was starting to pound and he could feel the sweat on his palms. The last thing he wanted to do was have a panic attack in her office. She said something but Starsky had been too preoccupied to hear her.

"I'm sorry. What?"

"I asked you if there's ever been any other time in your life when you felt the same way you do right now? When you had the same kind of nightmares, panic attacks…depression," she repeated "Anytime at all?"

"Yeah, everyday when I'm out there on the streets doing my job."

"I'm serious, David."

"So am I."

"It's not the same thing and I think you know that. Was there any other time in your life when you felt the same way you do now?" she repeated patiently.

"Once…" Starsky admitted reluctantly, but refusing to say more.

"And that was…" April probed insistently.

"After I came back from 'Nam."

"How long were you in Vietnam?"

"Eighteen months."

"Did you see a lot of action?"

"Too fucking much. I lost a lot of good friends over there."

"I'm sure you did. Were you ever injured while you were over there?"

""Depends on what you mean by injured." Starsky said evasively. "I was shot in the shoulder once."

"How else were you injured, David? Besides being shot."

"I was a guest of the Viet Cong for almost six weeks. You figure it out." Starsky snapped.

"You were a P.O.W." April said, repeating the obvious. "Is that why you were sent home?"

"Yeah, they gave me a medical discharge."

"And you had nightmares, panic attacks, and periods of depression after you came back home? Correct?"

"Yeah."

"How long did it last?"

"I guess it was almost a year before I finally stopped waking up screaming in the middle of the night…before I stopped seeing pieces of my friends blown to hell whenever I closed my eyes."

"Those are classic symptoms of what they used to call battle fatigue or combat stress." April said "There are researchers today who believe that it's not just men who served in the military who suffer those symptoms but anyone who has been through a traumatic life altering event." She looked at him intently. "I think that getting shot in the chest and stomach four times at close range would fall into that category, don't you?"

"So, talking about it is supposed to make it better?" Starsky smirked. "I don't think so."

"Did you ever talk to anybody about what happened over in Vietnam?"

"No…I shoved down deep inside, locked it up and threw away the key."

"Did that make it go away? Did it make you forget what happened over there?"
"No, I just don't let myself think about it anymore."

"That's important to you, isn't it, David? Being in control. Handling your problems on your own without any help from anyone?"

"What's wrong with that?" Starsky asked defensively.

"There's nothing wrong with it but sometimes people need a little help to deal with the shit that life throws at them. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I've got Hutch. That's all the help I need."

"Hutch means a lot to you. Doesn't he?"

"He's not just my partner, he's my best friend. I trust him with my life."

"Was Hutch there the day you got shot?"

"You already know he was."

"He couldn't save you that day, could he?"

"It wasn't his fault!" Starsky snapped, his eyes flashing with anger, automatically coming to the defense of his partner. "He yelled at me to get down."

"But you couldn't. There wasn't enough time and you didn't have any place to go. You were caught right in the line of fire. It wasn't your fault either, David."

"I never said it was."

"But you think that sometimes, don't you? That if you'd been paying more attention, you would have seen them sooner. If you'd drawn your gun a little faster, you might have been able to shoot them before they shot you." She paused and then added "And there's a part of you that's glad it was you that got hit and not Hutch."

"OF COURSE I'M GLAD IT WAS ME AND NOT HUTCH!" Starsky yelled, finally losing control of his fragile emotions at the impact those words had on him. "I CAN HANDLE IT BETTER THAN HE COULD!"

"Why?" April asked, remaining undaunted by his emotional outburst. "What makes you so different? Are you saying that you're a better man than Hutch?"

"NO!" Starsky snarled, giving vent to the anger that was boiling through his veins. 'THERE AIN'T NOBODY BETTER THAN HUTCH…ESPECIALLY NOT ME."

"So you think that Hutch is better than you." April stated, rephrasing his words and throwing them back at him. "How?"

"He's smarter than me for one thing. He always has been."

"Are you saying you're not smart, David?"

"No, it's not like that." Starsky said in a frustrated tone, frowning as he tried to analyze his own distorted feelings. "I just meant that Hutch is the one with the college education…not me. I never got the chance to go to college." His voice turned rough with a hint of bitterness. "I got an invitation to see the world courtesy of Uncle Sam."

"So tell me the ways that you're smarter than Hutch."

A thin smile tugged at his lips. "I had to teach him everything he knows about the streets." Starsky said. "He'd have never survived out there otherwise."

"So Hutch might have the book smarts but you're the one with the street smarts." April said. "Doesn't that balance things out?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Starsky admitted, putting a cap on his anger as she forced him to re-examine his unique relationship with his blond partner.

"Are you still scared of dying, David?" April asked, suddenly changing the subject and catching him off guard momentarily. "Or are you more afraid of living?"

"Dying is easy…it's the living that's hell." Starsky smirked.

"I can help you, David. But, only if you let me and only if you want help. It's all up to you."

"Does this mean I don't have to come back if I don't want to?"

"It's entirely up to you. But, I hope you'll reconsider and make another appointment to see me so I can help you work through these issues you keep bottled up inside of you. At least give me a chance to help you get rid of the nightmares and the panic attacks."

"Maybe," Starsky said, relieved that session was coming to a close. Even though he would never admit it out loud, some of what she had said made perfect sense to him. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to see her one more time after all. "I'll think about it."

He rose to his feet and reached out to shake April's hand with a faint smile. Turning, he left the office and found Hutch waiting for him in the waiting room, pacing the floor impatiently.

"How'd it go, Buddy?" Hutch asked anxiously as he stopped to look at his best friend closely.

"Okay," Starsky said evasively. He didn't feel like talking about the session with Hutch, not yet anyway. He was reluctant to admit that she had made him look at his life and the shooting in a different light. Now, he needed time to process the things they had discussed. For the first time since the shooting, he began to think seriously about his future.