Only If His Eyes Are Blue

Chapter 26

Hutch recognized his captain's voice from as far away as the corridor. He measured the footfalls of the heavyset frame and caught the labored exhalation of his short gusty breaths as he neared the curtained cubicle. He steeled himself and was ready for the inevitable beady eye of a fatigued and frustrated Dobey.

Dobey was just the first of many hurdles he might well find himself jumping in the next day or so in order to justify what had recently transpired between him and Calvetti.

Time to answer the questions about why he was sitting here in this sorry physical state - crouched over, battle weary, his whole body still undulating with waves of deep aching pain every muscle and joint throbbing in unison.

Time to construct some plausible explanation to give reason for his face and hands that were and bruised and cut up.

Time to reconcile his obvious physical thrashing with that of Calvetti's current medical status, as he lay in some distant ER department more than likely right now undergoing a semi-urgent surgical patch up.

The curtain swished back on its hooks and Hutch looked up to meet the sweeping gaze of his superior. The gaze made short work of economically assessing the picture that Hutch knew full well he presented to the captain and anyone else who happened upon his sorry ass at this particular time. The familiar broad, course featured black face was at once relieved, then exasperated and then finally left concerned with an edge of – weary resignation.

Hutch felt it wise to brave the first words.

"It's not that bad. The medics advised me take a detour here to the ER department and for once I thought I'd co-operate. My hand is a bit of a mess…."

"Not bad eh? Hmmph… Well I suppose … with you two and your track record, I'd have to say, I've seen worse."

"So now is not the time where I say to you – you should see the other guy."

"No Hutchinson. Now is not the time. So Calvetti? Is he – where is he?"

"Tony Bradshaw escorted him to the Portside Emergency. I didn't want him here in this hospital with Starsky. He's ok Captain. He's – he's a little roughed up like me."

"A little roughed up? Like you?"

Dobey moved in closer to better assess his Detective's 'little roughed up' state and far from healthy presentation. He merely grunted and looked at a point on the wall behind the examining couch where Hutch sat hunched and depleted.

"I see. And he's roughed up because ….?"

"The way it went down when he came to Joey's house was – ah – not without event. It –"

Dobey cut him off with a wave of his big pudgy hand.

"Was – was Bradshaw privy to your account and your handling of this...this ah 'event'?"

"Yes Cap'n - he was - he –"

"Well then. Let's leave it for now. You and Bradshaw just need to get your reports straight and on my desk before the next shift is out. You've got some time yet. I know you want to be with Starsky as soon as you can. You about finished up here?"

"As far as I'm concerned I am. They wanted x-rays but I know there's nothing broken and the rest is just cuts and bruising. I've been checked out by the Doc and was just waiting on someone to bind up this busted up hand. Anyway forget about me. Have you got any later news on Starsky? I got the nurse to get me a bulletin on him just before. They said he was out of OR? Do you know if they have taken him to a bed yet or if he is still up in Recovery."

"I only just left outside of the OR and he was still up there then – the Doc gave me the rundown. He's doing fine Hutch. He's doing fine. Now get yourself sorted out here before you leave for God's sake. You need something on that cut eye too. Don't want to be scaring the life out of your partner when he finally wakes up and sees you nearly as beaten up as he is. Damn it! You two! Can't even one of you stay in one piece and stop putting my blood pressure through the roof?"

Hutch would have liked to respond but couldn't summon the energy for even the lightest comeback.

Dobey looked nearly as worn as he felt and Hutch knew that the last couple of days had pushed the big Captain to the brink of his endurance. Worry and long hours were both telling in his bloodshot eyes and heavily lined forehead. Hutch vaguely wondered how many hours he had been standing in that same shirt and skewed tie. How many hours since he'd been home to see his wife and kids?

At least that was something he and Starsky didn't have to worry about - their only real personal allegiances were to each other. There were no loving nuclear families for either of them behind the scenes.

Trouble was he realised - when one or the other of them were sick or injured neither of them had a support to lean on in their immediate private lives. They were for all intents and purposes the only real family either of them had close at hand.

And the void, the empty space if he was not to be here ever again... if I hadn't gotten to him in time...no one...no one to go home to ever again.

Dobey's irritable gruffness brought him back from his the darker corners of his worst fears.

"So I'll chase up a nurse and get you patched up – then might I suggest that you get your sorry beaten up ass some much needed coffee and something to eat before you show yourself up on the ward. You want to last the stretch while waiting for Starsky to wake up? Then take care of yourself first. It'll be a while before he even surfaces. "

Dobey moved to pull the curtain back as he prepared to leave.

"In the meantime I'm going to check in with Bradshaw at Portside and see what arrangements we need to make for Calvetti's hospital confinement. It sounds like he won't be needing a cell till tomorrow at least. And - I'll need that report from the both of you …" he looked down blearily at his watch. "By midday today. I plan to go home, shower, change and see my family for a few hours before I front back to the station. I'll wait to hear from you on how Starsky goes when he comes to from the surgery. Let me know if there is any change."

"Captain. Before you go. I need to tell you, how it happened - well what happened - with Calvetti. I - I -"

Dobey turned back, a look of world-weariness and knowing in his limpid dark eyes. He stopped Hutch's stuttered attempt to formulate the next sentence.

"Hutchinson. Don't say it. You're barely coherent as it is you're so exhausted and knocked around. Just make sure that your report and Bradshaw's match up and are on my desk before I have some snot nosed lawyer chasing me up about why Calvetti is lying in a hospital bed in Portside and is not in a holding cell waiting for interrogation. Leave it to me to take care of the rest of the red tape. You've got enough to deal with in making sure that live wired partner of yours gets up and about as soon as he can. He's been out of action so much in the past couple of months, the squad room is like a damn tomb."

Hutch gave a gentle nod accompanied by a small but grateful smile.

"Thanks. Thanks for - understanding me and what - "

"Don't thank me Hutch. You brought the animal in. Now we can put him where he belongs and where he can begin the rest of his miserable life – behind bars. He'll pay for what he did to your partner Hutch. He'll pay tenfold. Maybe not with his life like you might have wanted, but he'll pay for it slowly and tortuously for every day over the next thirty or however many years he lives. I just hope that can be enough for you."

"You're right Cap'n. I know you're right. It'll be enough."

If Hutch's tone fell short of reaching any degree of firm conviction then Dobey chose to leave the matter rest.

Hutch watched the big broad back disappear through the curtain and then into the outer door and lean in close to one of the rotating duty nurses. She looked over at Hutch and he saw her nod in agreement to Dobey's request. True to his word, Dobey was hustling along his treatment so he could be free to move up to the ward to take up his vigil with Starsky.

Hopefully then he could shortcut waiting in the treatment line. For one moment he considered boycotting the wait entirely – after all he had been given the once over by the Doc and now only needed some plastering up. But the steady throb in his head and jaw and the grinding ache in every muscle reminded him that without some painkillers his sentry post beside Starsky's bed was going to be impossible.

Hutch sighed and settled in to wait just a little longer.

The sterile emergency room was almost icy – the chill of white tiles and cool re-conditioned air seemed to settle on his heavy shoulders. Regardless of his cool skin, deep inside of him he could still feel the heat. The remnants of white-hot ash still seared his churning guts and threatened to burn a hole through his calm outer reserves.

Then the nurse was finally beside him, bearing gifts of gauze, bandages and surgical tape – and mercifully, painkillers. While she worked steadily on his busted hand and he waited for the resultant blanket of pain relief that the pills promised, he thought again about Dobey's parting words.

He knew his Captain was secretly worried that the night would have ended differently – that Calvetti would have been leaving Joey's in a coroner's wagon and that he would have been talking to his Detective in a cell and not an emergency side room. He knew that for a fact, just like he knew that Dobey would do his damnedest to slide his and Bradshaw's statements about the night's event through the system with as least scrutiny as possible.

Dobey had hoped out loud that putting Calvetti away would be enough for him.

Would it?

Would locking Calvetti up in a sweat box cell be enough to satisfy the insatiable vengeance he felt for what Starsky had been made to suffer?

It was all academic now anyway. Calvetti was on track for the judicial system as soon as they dragged him in. Long-term imprisonment would be the only quench to the raking thirst of his hatred for this man.

Hutch looked down as the nurse wrapped the split and swollen knuckles of his right hand. Whether he would live to regret it or not, he had made his decision.

Just over one hour ago he had pulled the final punches that would have brought what he had so desperately wanted tonight – Calvetti's death.

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They both hated hospitals. God knew they had a solid case for such prejudice.

They both hated being in the medical "system" but of the two of them Starsky hated hospitals more – over and above even Hutch's strong unease whenever he was inside their confines.

Long ago in their careers as strong contenders for the frequently maimed and injured, he and Starsky had learned the hard way about hospitals. Learned that hospitals represented dread, fear, pain and anguish, frustration, waiting, uncertainty and alienation. In fact, just about nearly every negative state of being Hutch was capable of calling to mind in his current wooly headed condition.

Hospitals stripped away identity, reducing the capable and strong to the lost and weak.

Hospitals were a system to be endured – not just for the sick but also for those who waited and watched. It was where patience was a practiced art form, a virtue to culture and develop.

As Hutch took his rightful place beside the bed in the semi darkened pre-dawn room, he felt the usual barrage of emotions that assaulted him whenever he was in this position.

As he sated himself with the first re-affirming touch of his sleeping and so very still partner he had to admit that hospitals were also about hope and deep shuddering sighs of relief. Like the deep shuddering sighs he was drawing in hungrily right now as he watched his sleeping peaceful partner. Relief that help had come at last. Relief that suffering and pain were going to be alleviated, that the wrongs to the body were righted, that finally someone, some body of skilled people were saving a loved one.

Perhaps, thought Hutch, he'd do better to try and remember what he owed to hospitals, what he should be grateful for.

Starsky was alive and he was going to get better.

Starsky was safe and he finally had him back with him. Starsky was beside him, near enough to hear him breath, close enough to smell him.

Calvetti was not dead, but Starsky was alive.

For now at least Hutch knew that it was enough.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHS

He had expected it.

Fifteen minutes in and it began.

It was another of the processes of the hospital experience that he was more than well versed in. The laws of visitation rights. The battle to retain them in the face of bureaucratic adversity.

"I'm sorry Sir – ah Officer, but I'm afraid I have to ask that you leave now. We can only allow short stays while the patient is recovering from surgery unless you are immediate family. You have already been in here for over fifteen minutes. "

Hutch ignored the words and instead sought her opinion. In the creeping morning light he could see the signs, the small signs in his partner's face and body that heralded in return to consciousness.

"I think he's beginning to come to – he should be starting to wake by now shouldn't he?"

He carefully adjusted the oxygen mask so that it sat more comfortably across the bridge of Starsky's nose and chose to avoid the glare his small movement elicited from the nurse.

"Sir please refrain from touching the patient or tampering with the medical equipment. You must leave now."

Weary beyond words and not in the frame of mind to calmly reason with this woman let alone the whole system, Hutch fixed her with a withering look that had her stepping back a pace.

"Lady, I don't want to fight with you. I'm tired, I'm beat up, I'm worried and I'm where I am staying for at least the next three to four hours – unless of course I go out to get a coffee or take a piss. Then I'll be right back in this chair, or pacing around this room – but I'll be here and I won't be leaving. So unless your shift ends soon you'd better get used to seeing my moody face whenever you come into to do your checks on my partner. And – you'd better not waste your breath asking me to leave again. It'll only frustrate you and make me even more frustrated than I already feel."

"But you are not authorized to be in here – you are not next of kin –"

"I am his partner. We're cops. He nearly died and I only just found him. I'm not leaving him, not for you, not for your stupid hospital rules - not for anybody. I'm authorized to be here – look on his chart – I am his next of kin. Kenneth Hutchinson."

She seemed to be relenting. Either that or he had stepped over into threatening mode. He had tried to keep his temper in check but then he was hardly a good judge of himself at the moment.

He decided it would be best to try and meet her half way.

"Look – I won't do anything to get in your way. I won't touch any medical equipment or interfere with your medical stuff unless I think I can make him more comfortable by doing it. I just want to stay here and to be left alone to do that. It's where I have to be – alright?"

"I'll check with the treating Doctor and look at his chart."

"Good you do that and I'll just do what I need to do."

She hesitated, looking down at Starsky and fiddled a little with the IV line and then added with a far less authoritative tone.

"You're right. He seems to be coming around. I'll leave you now. If you don't check out with the system or the duty doctor doesn't allow it – I'll be back."

"I'll be here – not going anywhere remember?"

She noted how he now held the sleeping man's hand in his and spoke his name periodically, soothingly - even between his curt lines to her.

Something shifted in her face and she appeared to make a decision.

This time when she looked at him he caught the edges of a warm smile and was surprised to hear the truce she offered him.

"I'll see if I can hunt you up a fresh morning coffee. Save you from leaving the room to hunt one down and missing it when he wakes."

"Appreciate it."

Left alone with just his thoughts again he leaned further forward in his chair, vigilant for the first moment when his partner would wake. The soft light from the hospital bed consul now merged with the encroaching dawn light – both illuminating the damaged and battered face and upper torso of his friend.

He'd been so intent on getting up to Starsky's room once the nursing staff had informed him that he was out of the post operative recovery unit that he'd managed only a brief and hurried conversation with the overwhelmed and fatigued Specialist. The doctor had treated Starsky upon his admission and then followed him up after his surgery. The softly spoken man had alleviated Hutch's immediate concerns that Starsky was in any real medical danger. According to him, Starsky's injuries were all manageable - the greatest danger had been the infection to his wounds, dehydration and a compromised airway due to extensive bruising around his chest region and a couple of broken ribs. The temperature and fever was a concern but the doctor had assured Hutch it would abate with the intravenous antibiotics coursing through his system.

"Your partner's body has certainly taken a major thrashing Detective – and without someway to get his fever down and stop the spread of infection filling his bloodstream – his life would have been at grave risk. He had nothing much left to fight with and his systems would have shut down very quickly once the infection entered his bloodstream. Assuming that we can get his fluid and electrolyte levels up again and put a halt to the infection, we'll see a dramatic improvement in his recovery. The knife wounds and the other abrasions look nasty – but surgically they were not an issue. His head wound is deep but the skull is not fractured. Until he wakes up and we can gauge his cognitive status we won't know about his level of concussion."

As more early daylight lit up the room and the pallor of Starsky's heavily whiskered face, Hutch swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat as he catalogued each cut, abrasion and dressing that hid a suture line.

Instead he tried to concentrate on the flickering eyelids and the small finger movements in the hand he now held.

It was the movement, the brushing of the olive toned fingers over his own pale palm that set him off. Fatigue, sleep deprivation and the rapid de-escalation of anxiety levels did the rest. He felt the fall as he plunged into the heavy wash of emotions.

Shit! Here it comes….

This too was familiar to him. This too was well-worn ground.

The shaking and the trembling came first. It started in his hands and travelled up his arm to his chest and then vibrated through his whole body. Then came the tears - stinging his eyes and filling them to over brimming before finding a track to course down cheeks faster than he could manage to swipe them away with one clumsily bandaged hand while the other still gripped tight to the very source of his lifting despair.

Lifting despair and flooding relief – it always brought the tears.

"Shit Starsk! Why does this always happen to me and yet you seem to be able to hold yours in for longer? Now look at me…I – Oh Shit! "

He fumbled helplessly in his jacket pocket for a handkerchief that wasn't there and swiped again at his face with his jacket sleeve before he heard a throat clearing quietly behind him.

Oh Hell, she was back already! Surely not to try to evict him again.

He saw that she was moving the bedside mobile tray over closer toward him. He refused to give her anything but his profile - the torrent of emotion a private affair.

He was relieved when she didn't push for his attention.

"I brought you a hot coffee Detective – and some water. They're right beside you here on the tray when you're ready for them. Ummm…some tissues too in case you need them - ah, for your partner. "

He didn't look up but just choked back a muttered thanks and prayed for her to be gone again which she was.

Grabbing a handful of tissues he blotted away the worst of the dampness and steadied himself with some warm coffee.

The emotional release had brought with it some relief and he felt better able to look at the face of his friend without losing all composure.

The rate and degree of movement in Starsky's hands and arms increased – he was coming back to the world. It seemed to Hutch as though he had been gone from his world for a long long time.

All at once he felt unable to contain his hunger for the sound of Starsky's voice, the expression in his eyes, the animation in his crooked smile.

I've missed you so much partner. Missed you. Nearly lost you. So close to losing you again.

"Come on Starsky – wake up and look at me. Let me know that the crack to your skull hasn't left any permanent damage. Come on – wake up – it's been days since I've seen your eyes or your smile. It seems like months Starsk – not just days – it seems like months. I've missed you buddy. But you're back now – you're here with me in a safe room in a safe hospital. Why don't you wake up and look at me hey? Can you do that for me? Just one small look so I know you're ok?"

And then there it was.

The slither of vibrant blue opening to an even wider aperture as Hutch continued to coax with his soft voice.

Hutch had already noted what the heart monitor was increasing in its recorded rate. Starsky's pulse rate was starting to gallop. So important – so important that he was here with him now as these first moments of awareness filtered in and reality needed to be teased away from dreams, reality from nightmares.

How many times might Starsky have woken in the past days to a reliving nightmare? His first words to him had to be about dispelling the fear that the nightmare was still in place.

"OK …OK. You're waking up now Starsky. Can you hear me? Can you see me? This is real Starsky. This is real. You're in a hospital room and I am beside you. Just me. Hutch. "

Hutch cringed at the thought of bringing the Monster's name into the room with the two of them, but he wanted Starsky to know that Calvetti was not here to hurt him anymore.

"He's gone now Starsky. He's gone and the pain will be gone too. You're here safe with me. Safe. Just us."

Starsky fumbled with the oxygen mask, irritated and confused by its weight on his face and for a few brief moments Hutch relented and lifted it free from his mouth and nose. Instead he laid his uninjured hand down to take its place, stroking stubbled cheeks and bruised flesh with just enough firmness to convey to Starsky that his touch was real and that his presence was not a dream.

"Feel that? My hand Starsk. It's me. Just me. Are you with me?"

"W….w…with ya. Wi...with ya, 'Usshh...Utsshhh...wit' ya...see ya."

"That's great Starsky! That's just great. Keep looking at me, but I have to put the mask back on now understand? It's oxygen and you need it to help you to breath. You can't push it away OK? I'm still here beside you and I'm putting the oxygen mask on you again now so just relax and let it help you breath. The nurse will kick me out otherwise buddy. You have to keep the mask on or the nurse will be pissed off with me and she's already pissed off with me."

" ' Utch? Is ….is …she pretty?"

Hutch let out a deep chuckle and squeezed the hand he'd picked up again to express his quiet joy at the Starsky's indominatable spirit.

"More than you deserve Gordo. How come you always get the better looking ones hey? I get the battleaxes and you get the dreamboats."

"Izzz…..izzzz…cos….I end up …..in hozzzz….in hozzzpitals more…n…you do….thasss….why."

"Yeah well you're not wrong there buddy. And this time I making a rule that this is your last go at hospital for a damn long time. You hear me partner? I hereby forbid you to end up in a hospital bed again after you get out of here."

"Yeah...no more hozzzpitals 'Utch...no more..."

Hutch became alarmed when his partner began to move and squirm, his head tipping back and his eyes squeezing shut against some invisible fear, the fear of Calvetti.

"Wanna go home wit' ya now - home...take me ...home. Hate this...place...room...hate it here. He's watchin' me. Come in soon...come in here soon. Scared here 'Utch."

Starsky's groggy words and tremulous voice threatened to turn Hutch's gut inside out. He pressed the captured hand and and forearm so tightly now he feared he would add fresh bruises to Starsky's older ones.

I wanted to kill him for you Starsk. I really wanted to do it. But I held back so I could be here with you. So we could go back to work together again - have our lives back together again. I chose that over killing him - I hope it is enough for us.

"No - No - Starsky you are not there anymore. You're here in the hospital with me. The hospital is safe Starsky. You're in the hospital now - not where you were. Home soon. Soon buddy. I'll take you home - soon as I can, I promise. But for now you have to get better and you need to be here to get better. You won't be alone. I'll always be here with you. The hospital is safe Starsk."

But the small display of agitated energy had dragged him down again and Hutch could already see that he'd gone – gone back under to the twilight of half consciousness.

"Go back to sleep Starsk. I'll be here waiting."

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Half an hour later Starsky was still out to it and Hutch had used the time to take advantage of the bedside phone so that he didn't need to leave the room. He needed to touch base with Bradshaw whom he was pleased to learn had made it back to the station and begun to tackle the unsavoury job of the report write –up.

"I've got two men on Calvetti Ken, and that is more than enough because he's pretty out to it I can tell you. They've got him dosed him up good after his stint in OR. Heavy post operative pain relief for his busted nose, cheek bone and dislocated shoulder."

"Christ – when did the shoulder happen?"

"Er….probably around the time that he managed to get two of his fingers broken. The rest of the damage though is soft tissue and organ bruising. He's not looking too hot but he'll live. Well that was the consensus from the Doc when I left. "

"Yeah – he'll live."

Bradshaw was not deaf to the bitterness in his Hutch's tone.

"Ken – you did the right thing in pulling back. You know you did. Now I've just got to get creative with the report. I've already had a 'discussion ' with the uniform who was in attendance with us. He saw us pull Starsky out from there when we busted into Joey's to get him - don't think he'll forget that in a long time - so he's - he's on the same page with me as regards the report. Joey's men know nothing of what went down with you and Calvetti apart from them letting him into the house. And Joey - well Joey needs every bit of help from us he can get to walk away with the least amount of shit smeared on him from this whole sick situation. He's co-operating every bit of the way from what I can gather. "

"Tony – its not right that I'm leaving this to you …but I can't leave here just yet."

"Listen don't even think about it. You stay there you hear me. Hell, I didn't bust my gut getting you to that hospital in one piece so you'd be there for Starsky only to have you turn around and leave him for some fucking stupid incident report. I'll get it done OK? You can read it and sign off on it –or change it how you'd prefer – whenever you get back down here. God it's barely dawn yet. No-one will be looking for this report for hours yet."

"Dobey said to me earlier we had until midday. I'll be back in there well and truly by then. Starsky will be alert enough by then for me to tell him that I have to go in. Right now though - I'm not prepared to leave him by himself. He's coming to and remembering fucking Calvetti before he even understands where he is. He's going to be shaken up mentally for a long while."

" Of course you can't leave him! God, poor guy. Dealing with all that anaesthetic crap and then trying to sort out what's happened. But at least, from Dobey's account anyway, it seems as though there is minimal risk of major complications with his surgery and his injuries."

"Yeah – well God I hope so. The fever he had already seems to be under control and already with the IV fluids - well the Doc says he is being hydrated well and maybe by tomorrow he can drink himself."

"OK …why don't you go take a quick break while he's asleep again? I'll leave you to it."

Hutch stole another look in a string of many at the still deeply asleep man on the bed beside him. Tony was right about snatching the time for a brief break - he needed the john and to splash his face as best he could with one bandaged hand and a cut brow.

"Give me five minutes Buddy and I'll be back. OK? Just sleep till I get back."

SHSHSHSH

On his way back from the bathroom he noted the increased activity outside in the nurse's station. The Morning shifts were coming on as the Night shift staff were preparing to leave. He spotted the nurse who turned out to be his support rather than his enemy as she was lifting her handbag and some books into her arms.

"Hey there - I was waiting to catch you before I left. I just wanted to let you know that I am going off shift now and I have paved the way for you with the next lots of staff. You shouldn't have any problems with them leaving you be in the room. I just checked on him and he's still asleep."

Hutch gave her a warm smile. How different she seemed to when he had first encountered her only a short while ago.

"He roused a little before so from here on he should start to wake up. Thanks for everything – thanks for letting me stay. I realize you could have thrown me out on my ear if you really wanted to."

He had the graciousness – he could afford it now – to be a little sheepish.

"You think? With that attitude you showed me in there before?" She laughed lightly. "Hardly. Not unless I called security and even then I'm not sure they would have succeeded in doing anything but causing a massive scene which would have only upset the patient. Hey – you're obviously what he needs because he is settled and his OBS are all good."

"Well thanks anyway. I'd better head back in."

"Oh – damn it – nearly forgot to tell you."

"Sorry?"

"A message came in just before to the Ward desk – when you were on the phone in the room. I didn't want to interrupt you even though he really wanted to talk to you."

"My Captain? Captain Dobey?"

"No – no – Not another police officer. But he said he was very close to Detective Starsky and knew you both so very well. He said to let you know anyway that he was very pleased to know that your partner was safe and that you'd been able to get to him on time. "

"Who – who left the message?"

So very few people could have known to call him here – could have known the details of what had gone on with Starsky and him the previous night.

And certainly no one else besides another cop.

"Here I wrote it down and the time it came in."

She turned to the desk behind her and scrabbled about on the desk for a notepad.

"Here it is…he said his name was Marcus – that you knew him as Marcus - whatever that means. Do you know him? He actually called you something - some nickname... Yes! I remember. He called you the 'White Knight'. He said you were Detective Starsky's White Knight. Isn't that lovely? I guess that means you saved him huh? Saved your partner. God - No wonder you wanted to stay with him."

She was looking at him with open admiration while he could feel the blood leaving his face and his blood pressure plummeting. He steadied himself on the high-backed desk for support.

"Hey are you OK? Sorry I didn't mean to upset you."

"No - no its fine. Really its fine. Marcus…yes – yes I do know him. Thanks. Thanks."

He found his way back into the room aware that she was watching his back as he made his hasty retreat, curious and concerned at what had caused the shock on his face.

He fell into the chair and rubbed hard at the crease in between his tired eyes.

How the hell? Marcus! Simone Marcus? How could he possibly know what had gone on tonight?

Starsky was still in another land and Hutch wanted so much to be able to wake him – to talk to him – to confirm again that he was here with him and free of the evilness of both Calvetti and Simone Marcus.

He stood up suddenly and roughly retrieved the phone - handset and all, dragging the extension cord so that he could sit beside the bed to make the call.

With one arm draped protectively over his partner's softly moaning body he punched in the numbers to the squad-room with the other.

As he waited to be patched through to Dobey, he leaned even closer over Starsky's form. He needed to blanket him, shield him – from what he didn't even know anymore – but the need to cover him, to guard him, to protect him, seemed so much more imperative since he heard the nurse's words.

Was there no where safe for Starsky?

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