Chapter 28

Dobey had been trying yet again to persuade him into going home. Starsky silently wished he would just give up already. His Captain's tone was laced with heavy frustration and weary resignation. He already knew his words would fall on deaf ears but seemed prepared to go through the exercise nonetheless. Starsky had to concentrate hard not to erupt at the constant badgering. It seemed everyone wanted to push his face out the door and toward home.

"Just go home for God's sake will you? Get some rest – even if you can't sleep, just get some downtime Starsky. You can't go on like this. There's nothing else you could have done. Nothing – so stop kicking yourself in the head will you? There's also nothing here that you can do that we're not already doing. The whole damn precinct is out looking for him. You're not achieving a thing by running yourself into the ground like this. I don't want to see you back in here, anywhere near here in fact, until you make yourself scarce for twenty-four hours, is that clear?"

"There's still the further reaches of the city limits and the closest big towns. We haven't even begun to scratch the surface yet of places he could have slunk into."

"That's the damn point Starsky. It's limitless and our reserves aren't. However Ryan was also critically injured. The knife wound would have left him severely incapacitated and slow on his feet. Someone in that poor physical condition couldn't have gone too far afield, though he could have gone deep."

" My point. We keep lookin' and if you're prepared to pull the pin I'm not. I keep lookin'".

"Look! This is not just about what I want to do or not do. It's been two weeks Starsky! Try to look at this logically. Whether you want to look at yourself or not you'll hear it from me. You're losing perspective with all of this. You think Hutch would like to see you like this? You think he'd like to see the way you're treating yourself and everyone around you? If you won't think of yourself then at least think of him."

Dobey knew immediately that he'd pushed across some invisible line with his Detective but held his ground.

Pure resentment radiated from Starsky and Dobey inwardly flinched at the cut of his response.

"Think of Hutch? Oh My God! You think that there isn't a minute of the day that I don't think of him? Do you? Everything I do, everything I think is about him and what that bastard did to him!"

Dobey absorbed the rebuke, his own big jowled face the picture of haggard fatigue and emotional exhaustion. His tone softened considerably seeing the fresh pain in the other man's face.

"Look Son - Just give it time. Give yourself time. I know that's what Hutch would want for you."

Similar statements and other heartfelt snatches of advice and support had been dispensed to him for the past two weeks as he had wandered blindly through the corridors of the station.

Everyone and anyone it seemed knew what was best for him during this terrible time and did not hold back on handing out their homilies and their homespun psychological therapy.

It seemed too that everyone had become an expert on Hutch and what Hutch would want from him, for him. More than anything it was these comments, these references to Hutch that tested the limits of what little control Starsky still felt he had on his ability to hold back from a complete blowout. Each time someone uttered his partner's name it was like a hot lash on raw skin. He didn't know why, couldn't understand it and yet it was almost unbearable to hear others talk of him - their casual referencing of him almost offensive to his ears.

Only yesterday he had rounded savagely, unexpectedly onto one of the other duty sergeants when he dropped Hutch into the equation while throwing out advice to Starsky about what was "best for him".

It had taken two other officers to pull him off the shocked sergeant who had only narrowly escaped the full onslaught of Starsky's wrath. It was obvious to everyone who witnessed the event that a full body slam against the filing cabinet and a severely rumpled shirt front was far less than he might have gotten given the way Starsky had snapped and turned on him.

"You don't try to tell me 'bout Hutch ok? You've got no idea, no fuckin' idea about him! And you especially don't get to tell me what my partner would think. You fuckin' hear me?"

Starsky knew he was being harsh. Knew he was short on the frustration and long on the temper. Knew it was all just too damn much for him, and he was unravelling, his tolerance and his control spinning loose. Every person around him seem to grate on his nerves.

Not one of them could possibly understand what he was going through. Not one of them. Sure – maybe some of them had suffered the loss of a partner over their years on the force; many of them had watched their partners succumb to injury and disability on the job. And yet, it remained in his mind that none of them could possibly have shared, have even glimpsed the depth of his and Hutch's connection and the unique bond shared between them. Their platitudes, as well meaning as they were intended – left him feeling wretchedly disassociated from his peers, colleagues and his small universe.

Even Huggy's words seem to fall short of what he needed. He hated himself for thinking that of his long time friend – for even a fleeting moment, but even he didn't get where he was at.

Truth was, not a soul in the world had the right words for him.

Truth was he didn't even begin to understand himself what he needed to hear or to do to make things better. Maybe there was no getting to a better point.

No one could understand or imagine what he had gone through on that rooftop, or what he had gone through since then for the past two and a half weeks. No one of course but the one person who couldn't be there for him.

Riley of course was close to being the one exception - having been inside of the raging hell with him when it had all gone down. And yet Starsky knew Riley had his own ghosts to battle, his own emotional shit to trudge through as a consequence of what they had both been through with Ryan. Even in Starsky's darkest hours straight after the rooftop drama had ended, even when he was barely able to communicate so torn was he by grief, he sensed in Riley that there were deeper issues at play for him than just the present. Riley was plagued by something other than just what had happened on the roof with Ryan but Starsky had neither the energy nor the emotional space to question it further.

They had talked, the two of them, since the ordeal. Their "talks" had been safe exchanges, skirting around the true horror of the whole experience, neither of them able yet to delve too deeply into each other for any answers. It was as though that by some silent mutual understanding that they were not yet ready to go there just yet. It could be a long while Starsky knew - for both of them.

So Starsky had kept it mostly to himself. Without Hutch at his side, wading through the emotional aftermath was a solo pursuit. It was a one-man journey across waters he had to circumnavigate by himself or remain forever lost in the middle of its murky expanse. An expanse as deep beneath him in guilt as it was wide all around him in regret.

So eventually after his outburst in the squad room he had done what they all kept telling him to do. He'd gone home to rest – to find some private space to regroup and pull himself back into some semblance of … something that didn't look like a man who had suffered an interminable grief.

The self-imposed down time lasted all of one afternoon before he couldn't take anymore of himself or his circular thoughts. Sickened by his futile introspection and self cross-examination he eventually slammed the door on his apartment and made his way back to the only place he felt he should be, or wanted to be.

The only place he felt truly understood.

The only place where he could begin to know who he was anymore.

With Hutch.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Starsky was not a man who liked to wait.

Starsky and waiting quite simply did not go hand in hand.

As a norm he was not a man who tolerated drawn out situations well. Easily prone to boredom and impatience for action, it went against his nature to wait for extended periods without some sort of short term payoff. Point in fact, stake outs sent him teetering to the edge of craziness. However, that was not the case in which he found himself waiting at that point in time. Not while he could sit so close to and ponder the miracle that was his living partner lying safe and whole just next to him. It gave him the chance to reflect, here in this white-boxed room with nothing to distract him but a constant view of his breathing, healing partner. Here, beside Hutch, in the quiet and the stillness he didn't have to make sense of anything except one fact - real and oh so reassuringly beautiful.

Hutch had lived.

Despite of all of Ryan's barbarism he had not died - and day by day he was getting stronger.

Clear-cut facts that stilled his tumultuous world.

When he wasn't here, wasn't affirming to himself the evidence of his living breathing partner he would start to feel the anxiety creep back. The doubt and the fear would once again begin to blossom and the anger would overtake him to the point that he knew he was at the edge of his control. That's what Dobey would see in him. That's what others saw in him – the anger and the fear. That's why he always ended back here. More than he should be, more than the hospital staff appreciated and more than was healthy for him given that the hard chair took the place of a bed in his dozing hours.

Waiting. Watching. Anticipating the reassurance that would come when Hutch would once more open those sky blue eyes and look directly at him.

He could see the signs now that Hutch was rising to the surface of his drug-induced sleep. There would not be too long to wait this evening for him to wake up.

In the first week after the long and difficult surgery there had been no waiting for Hutch to wake up. There was just the waiting for glimmers and snatches of lighter consciousness and semi coherence. A word shared, a facial gesture communicated, a touch reciprocated and amplified. Not a lot of anything really when he had spent hour after hours beside the bed in his seemingly endless vigil. And yet to him it had been enough, more than enough reward for him. Small but clear signs that Hutch was coming back to him and had not succumbed to the death that had tried to steal him away.

In the past week Hutch's periods of wakefulness and coherency had increased to the point where he could talk with his partner, open his arms for a light but full body hug and for the first time since his surgery, begin some tentative shaky steps back to mobilizing.

Leaning back in the chair, relaxing for the first time since he had left the hospital very early that morning, Starsky enjoyed the show of his partner coming to wakefulness bit by bit, pulling himself up through the layers of altered consciousness.

Unable to stop a small smile he leaned forward.

"And finally he opens those baby blue eyes."

As soon as the words were out he felt the pull of the dark memory. The reference to Hutch's eyes reminded him of the last time he had thought about those distinctive blue eyes. He pushed back the flash of pain at the vivid recollection of his desperate wish up on the rooftop to see those light blue eyes just 'one more time'. Too late he knew Hutch, despite his fuzzy sleepy state had already read what was in his face.

"Hey? Starsk? You ok?" Hutch extended his hand toward him, his deep vertical 'worry-line' as Starsky termed it, etched deeper with concern.

"Your Blintz radar is damn indestructible isn't it? Can't hide a thing from you."

"Don't hide anything from me – I don't want you to. We know after this – after everything, not to do that with each other ok?"

Starsky gave the slightest nod and moved his hand to cover Hutch's.

"Ok. I – when I was so damn scared that I was gonna lose you Hutch – that you weren't gonna make it – well the one thing I really wanted was the chance to see your eyes again. Just one more - time – it seemed to matter so much that I could just get the chance to look you in the eyes again ya' know? Maybe I even thought that if I could do that, I might somehow make you stay alive – "

He dashed his fingers across his eyes and shook his head fast.

"Ahh shit, look I'm not gonna do this again. I told myself – enough. In the last week I have damn well drained myself dry from these cryin' jags. Hell the way I'm goin', soon they're gonna have to hook me up to a damn IV for re-hydration."

Hutch smiled and waved his hand toward the now discarded IV stand in the corner of the room.

"Be my guest. I think the evil night nurse is just waitin' for another victim to stick a cannula in and to tie up to that metal pole. I swear she looked disappointed when the Doc finally gave the orders to take mine out yesterday. 'Sides it might at least restrict you to a bed for some sleep. Talking of eyes – look at yours. They're so bloodshot I can't see the whites, let alone the color. "

It was not lost on Starsky that his friend was trying to avert another tear-laden deluge from him. Hutch knew his partner was wrung out from a week of heavy emotion and needed a chance to regroup. Starsky, not normally known for showing tears, had done little but cry since Hutch had surfaced from his heavy post operative sedation and had his first opportunity to communicate with his critically injured partner.

"Nothing that a few zzz's won't take care of."

"Well why aren't you at home getting those few zzz's? I thought you weren't coming back tonight. You promised me you'd go home and crash all afternoon and tonight. Starsky – we talked about this –"

"Hutch, don't nag. Try to remember which one of us is wearing the silly hospital dress with the big gap in the back where your ass is bared to the whole world. Clearly you're the patient. Patients get nagged at - not the other way around."

"And pretty soon buddy you might find yourself wearing the same silly garb if you don't take care of yourself. You don't want me to nag? Then start acting like you can look after yourself."

Starsky sighed and fell back into the chair with frustration.

"Hutch. You know what it's like. You know. I – I just can't settle at home. It's too damn quiet, and there's too much of me with my own thoughts."

"Then go into work and get some company. Dobey told me that when you do go in, that you're avoiding people, tying yourself to the desk and hunting through the entire city by phone."

"So? You agree yourself that it's good to have company around. At work I've got company."

"Starsky - you might be at the station, but you sure aren't communicating with anyone or allowing anyone to give you support."

"So, I'm not in the mood for socialising. Christ - "

Hutch went on to talk over him.

"You're not only not socialising, you're unapproachable. Giving a few people the full Starsky fury treatment."

"I got things to accomplish - people want to get in my way with nice words and advice. Pisses me off. I can't help lashin' out. You know what I'm like."

"You're hurting Starsk and doing nothing about it except pushing yourself more every day." The gentle tone was laiden with worry.

"You're nagging again Patient Hutchinson."

Once again Hutch persisted, gamely choosing to ignore the flash of warning in Starsky's eyes that said he was tiring of the inquisition.

"That's only half of it isn't it? Then I hear that you're ringing every hospital, homeless shelter, morgue and cop precinct from here to San Francisco. And when you're not doing that you're out cruising the streets for hours from midnight till dawn when you leave here, and think I'm finally out for the count for the night. You've told me that you're heading home for the night and instead you're hitting the streets. Dead on your damn feet!"

"Oh? And let me guess who gave ya' that last piece of information?"

"Yeah – Riley. So what Starsky? Of course he'd tell me. I want him to tell me, because I know for damn sure you won't. He still has his connections in the Communication's Room and every damn squad car knows you're prowling alleyways and back street hideouts. And then Huggy says you haven't been in for a meal or a drink – for days. He's wondering what you're doing for food or if you're even eating?"

"Jesus! They should know better than to come and unload on a freakin' invalid. Fillin' your head with all this shit about me. Look. They've got you all worked up and worried. Huggy should know better and Riley should shut his - "

"Starsky! They're worried about you – like I am…like everyone is. You think because I'm stuck in this hospital bed I don't have the right to worry about you anymore?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. Not by a damn long way."

"Don't be stupid. So I'm a bit frazzled. Cutting it close to the bone with sleep and not eatin' my greens. They should be worried about you, not me for Christ's sake."

"You're letting this eat you up from the inside. You've got to start to let it go now."

"No. Can't do that. Won't be doin' that. Not for Dobey, not for Riley – not for anyone."

Hutch watched as Starsky's face suffused with something seething, a latent fury that was still there, hidden behind tired eyes and fatigue. In the first days of his recovery he had not noticed it, only seeing the dragging worry on Starsky's face. Now with his friend's guard dropped Hutch caught the clear sign that even now the anger had not faded. He squeezed the hand next to him tight to reinforce his request.

"Then what about for me? Would you do it for me? Let it go for me Starsk. Let go of the anger."

Sucking in a jagged breath Starsky was unable to look into the two pools of shimmering blue, eyes that had the power to move him in so many ways. He wrenched his hand from Hutch's and stood up, scraping the chair back as he face lit with temper.

"Let what go? Huh? Let what go? What do I let go of here Hutch? You tell me. The fact that Ryan's gone? Maybe dead, maybe not? Barely alive but hanging on somewhere and I can't find where that fuckin' somewhere is? Should I let go of looking while there is a chance, even the slimmest chance that we can still find the son of a bitch? Even his body? Let go of that? Or should I let go of what he did to you? Let go of my need to find him and finish him off for that? For bringing you to the point of death up there on that rooftop, havin' goons beat the shit out of you, fill your body full of dope then terrify the shit out of me for lettin' me believe it was heroin?" He'd paced frantically to the window and back several times before coming to an abrupt halt where he faced Hutch. He wrapped his arms tightly about his chest, his body slightly bent over as though holding in the emotion threatening to erupt from deep inside of him. As though trying to contain a deep pain that was finally surfacing and taking hold.

"Or should I let go of what he did in the last moment? He could have made a run for it with nothin' but courage to give him speed. He might have made it anyway Hutch. But he was too much of a coward, or maybe just too sick of a monster to just leave it at that and run. To even try. So he used you as insurance against me. Like he always said he would. The motherfucker – the sadistic motherfucking bastard had to go and slam your beaten body with a bullet."

Hutch said nothing, allowing his friend to get it out.

"You want that I let go of that one Hutch? Just brush over that little detail? Let go of you lying there with a bleeding hole in your chest and your poor body already broken apart from what he'd done to you?"

Tears were mixing with rage as he spat out the words.

Hutch rubbed at bridge of his nose before holding out his arms in as wide an arc as he could manage with his chest tightly bound.

"Starsk…come here – please. Just come here."

Instead he watched Starsky step back a few steps, almost staggering under the weight of his first real venting of the pain he had suppressed since the medics had carried Hutch down the stairwell that afternoon more than two weeks ago.

"No. No. Don't. Don't Hutch. You gotta' understand me here…"

"I do. I understand you Starsky. Everything about you, everything you say and everything you don't. I understand you Starsk. That's why I need you to come here."

With a sputtered cry Starsky almost fell toward the bed and to Hutch's outstretched arms.

"You fuckin' nearly died Hutch. I thought you had. I thought you would. I – I'd all but said goodbye to you in my head and was just waiting there with you while you took your last breath. When the paramedics came they pulled me away from you, took one look at ya' and basically gave it to me straight. They didn't think they even stood a chance of keepin' ya' heart goin' till they got you to the hospital - shit, maybe even down the stairwell. I – I gave 'em a hard time – screamed at them to shut the fuck up and just move. Told 'em you'd shown me you were gonna make it. Told 'em I knew you'd live. But even Riley – Oh God, Hutch even Riley tried to prepare me for you dyin' before we got you to the hospital. When I think of what I said to that poor kid –"

"Starsky, it's ok. I know what happened. Riley's told me it all – "

"I guess he would have spoken to you. He trusts you so much. With me, I think he's still got to find his place. After all I hardly made it easy for him in the beginning did I? You know he and I have barely talked about it? Those last few awful minutes up there."

"You will when you're ready. He said that you've not talked to anyone about it. He feels so bad for taking away your hope. I think he'd like you to clear the air with him about it."

"I'll find the time to sit down with him and talk. I know you want me to and – yeah – you're right. We need to do it."

"I'm just pleased that you're finally talking to me about it – even this much. For days you've skirted around it, diverted me from it, tucked it away so you didn't have to share any of it with me."

"You've been too weak. Too damn sick …"

"No – not in the last week or so I haven't. I've just been waiting for you to be ready. You do things in your own good time partner, I know that."

"I can't let go of it Hutch." The sigh from Starsky was pure distress. "I don't know what to do with that memory, that feeling. The terror that you were actually gonna die right there beside me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. When I go home, when I'm with anyone else, anywhere but here, with you, beside you – I can't deal with that feeling. It is so real. Real everywhere but here when I can sit and watch you breathe and feel you warm. You were so cold. So cold. And I can't forget it. I can't just let it go and I'm so scared that if I let go of the anger, the rage, the need to find him - "

"What? What will happen Starsky? Tell me. Remember – no more holding back stuff from each other? Try to tell me what you're afraid will happen."

"I'm – I'm terrified that if I can't find him and see him dead that somehow – someway I won't be able to keep you alive. That, it'll all happen again. I can't live through that again and I won't watch you go through it again."

"Which is exactly how I felt when I took that call and I went to him, as he knew I would. As he knew we both would. I wanted nothing more than to eradicate him in someway. I don't even know how I planned on doing that Starsk – stupid hey? Or how I was going to face the rest of my life after doing it. I just wanted to use my hands – just my fists and my hands. I wanted to see him dead too Starsky. I never thought much beyond just wanting him dead. It was the only way he would stop hurting you. And he knew – he knew I would go to him for that alone. Like you – I couldn't take another nightmare where he messed you up. Remember I had to watch him nearly kill you too Starsky? More than once. So I do know how it feels – oh God I know how it feels babe."

Starsky pulled back a little from the light embrace, mindful of Hutch's chest wound, and lifted his hand to Hutch's hair.

"Fuckin' hurts like shit doesn't it? Feeling powerless? Feelin' like there is no hope – no way to stop – to hold back the worst. He's a crazy sicko Hutch. Insane. Why didn't we see it, even back at the Academy?"

"He's gotten sicker with time. More disturbed. More obsessed and more disordered. After all he's got nothing to lose like we do. Death doesn't mean the same to him as it would to us. He set us up so good Starsk, he played us to the maximum. In the end, I guess we fucked up completely – both of us. We each took terrible risks, trying to take him on like we did - and lost to him. Well at least I did. You just came in and cleaned up the mess I started. I should never have agreed to meet him, unarmed and with nothing to back me up but my own need for revenge."

"Hey you started nothin'. I'm the one who got us into this whole fuck-up right from day one when I argued with you about goin' under with the creep for the drug bust job. Shoulda' listened to the famous Hutchinson wisdom and given the whole thing a wide berth."

"Not sure if that would have stopped him in the long run Starsky. Ryan came to our precinct that day with a plan in mind. Going under and taking you with him in the Kalzo case was probably one of several other ploys he might have had up his sleeve to get you where he wanted. I was out of action, just getting back from all the shit with the heroin and Forrest. In the end he even used that against us. He had it figured that you were minus one street partner and would be a good choice to go under with him on the drug bust case. And anyway if I'd told you how I felt about him, really felt about him, since the Academy days you might have listened to me and told Dobey and Dobson to get another man to partner Ryan. I knew how sick in the head he was about you back when he was younger – I just thought with maturity he might have -"

Hutch baulked on the words, sighing a little and fell back against the pillows. Starsky supported his shoulders as he could see the signs that his partner was starting to wilt with discomfort and emotional strain.

"Hey enough. We could freakin' go on all night with this stupid blame game, guilt trippin' shit. It's like you said Hutch. Ryan had us pegged from the start. Played up to what he knew about us and used every move to bring us both into his sick world of obsession and hate. In the end I'd say he came out feelin' pretty damn cool about how well he reeled us both in. About how much he got to punish me in the end by nearly killing you…"

Starsky adjusted the sheet and blanket more comfortably about Hutch's upper chest and pulled the pillow a little straighter behind his head, all the while averting his eyes from Hutch's.

Hutch snatched his hand as it came up to fuss with the blanket again, forcing Starsky to look at him.

"Hey – hey – Ryan didn't kill me Starsky. He didn't succeed and I'm still very much alive. I didn't die up there on that rooftop Starsky – as much as the nightmare of it won't leave you alone. Don't you think that I have regrets about that stinking hot day up there, just as much as you too? In the end I didn't get to save you like I planned on doing. I didn't get to wipe the filth of Ryan out of your life forever. Not entirely sure how that might have all ended up if I had been successful anyway. One thing for sure is that I wouldn't be lying in a clean, secure private hospital room with my best buddy simply debating the fact. I'd most likely be in lockup waiting for you to try to raise enough cash for my bail. But I'm not. I'm here – I'm alive and you're alive too. Can't we just take that and move on? That's got to be enough for now. Take it and let go. Let go of Ryan - just let go of him. "

"Hutch, what if I can't do it? What if I can't let it go?"

"Then there's the risk that he'll destroy you in the end anyway. It means that what we both did was all in vain. It means that me getting beaten and bashed and filled full of drugs and then shot in the damn chest was all in vain. Because if you keep going down this track of never ending vengeance and fuck up your career and your life, I might as well have died anyway."

Starsky blanched at Hutch's proclamation and looked away, not wanting to hear the words.

"What? You don't think it's the same? If I'd died up there on that roof Starsk, if I'd let go and didn't claw back from that terrible dark edge, hadn't felt you there beside me pulling me back to you and to life and I'd let death come and take me from you – then I know you would have screwed up your life within a month or less. Just like it would be for me if you'd be the one gunned down."

"I couldn't – couldn't go on if you weren't around in my life Hutch. I just can't make it work in my head anymore, a life without you as my buddy, my partner, my best friend. You dyin' – you not bein' here with me anymore, it scares the fuckin' shit out of me."

"As it scares the shit out of me too Starsk. Every time something happens to you. I guess it'll always be like that for us. But this time I lived. I'm still here. We got through it – again partner. Again. But somehow you don't seem to have accepted that I am still here. Each time this past week that I've woken up here in this bed and look over I can see in your eyes that you're still letting Ryan screw with your head and your life. I hear it from everyone else too – but I don't need Dobey, Huggy or Riley or anyone else to tell me what I can read on your face every time you look at me."

Starsky reached forward and swiped his hand down the side of Hutch's bruised cheek.

"How come ya' still get to have all the wisdom even when you're half dead?"

"Because Gordo, I'm still half alive – and the part of me that is still working perfectly well is my superior intelligence. I got slugged in the chest remember, not the head. And anyway, even if I was nine-tenths dead I'd still be able to read my partner better than anyone else ever could. I know how this thick skull of yours works."

Getting his own swipe in he tapped on Starsky's head and tugged hard on one of his longer errant curls before suddenly turning serious again.

"We've been through so much with this Starsky. From the day he walked back in our lives, Ryan has put us through so much, too much. So he's not lying on a bunk in a cell or a body bag, and we don't know if he died rotting with a slow infection from that knife wound you gave him, doubled up in some room in a two-bit bar or a hotel bathroom somewhere. We don't know if he tugged on some long forgotten contact and got driven out of the city, given second-rate medical care and a safe place to hide. We might never know. But we have to make a decision now – together, both of us. To make this the end. The end for us. To let go of Ryan Lancaster from here on in."

"Sounds so easy when you say it like that Hutch. Sounds so easy when we both know it's so much fuckin' harder than that. This monster, he just won't go away and play dead. This – this –maniac is the one who won't leave us alone remember? As far as I recall we didn't ask him into our lives."

"I know. But think about it Starsky. Since this all started – since he did what he did to you after the Kalzo case, one way or the other we've both wanted him put in his place. I can say in all honesty after what he did to you at the beach house that I wanted nothing less then to see him suffer, to pay for what he did to you. Then Katy, Dobson, Riley – it just kept mounting up. We both wanted him gone. We both wanted to wipe him out. It's like he's been a festering disease in both of us. We've let that happen. Our need for revenge has nearly killed us both."

"We've let that happen? You make it sound like we could have controlled any of what he did to did – all the evil he spread around."

"No of course not. But we can control how he makes us react to him. From now – dead or alive – he's now dead to me. Ryan will not make me do anything again that will only endanger us more than he already has done."

"You think it's that simple Hutch? You think I can just forget about all of this –" he waved his hand at the hospital room, at Hutch's bandaged chest, his bruised face. "And move on in life?"

"Yes I think you can. Otherwise it just keeps going on and on. You can't make looking for Ryan, hoping to uncover him your soul purpose. Eventually it'll wear you down and ruin your life. I'd like you to do it Starsky. I'd like to know that when I get to sleep tonight that you've gone home and are doing the same. That you're not out scouring the streets or planning what other tactic you'll use tomorrow to look for him. I don't want to be lying here worrying about you like I have been for the past few days."

The response was quiet.

"I didn't ask you to worry about me Hutch – you think I want that?"

"Then listen to me for God's Sake. Take it in and don't just brush it off like I know you want to do. Go home, get some rest and think about what I've said. What I'm asking of you."

Starsky sighed as he dry rubbed his face.

"Asking a lot of me Hutch….to just close the door on all of this and what he did to you –"

"Then think of it as me asking you not to let him one do anything else to me. Not another thing. To take no more from the two of us than he already has. It stops now."

The sheer weight of the words and the intensity of Hutch's unwavering gaze hit Starsky in the mid-gut.

The forearm beneath his grip was thinner than the forearm of three weeks ago. Gently, but purposefully Starsky turned it over to expose the pale flesh of his partner's inner arm, his fingers lightly tracing over the skin's surface. A surface that was unmarred, free of irritation or redness or any signs of self-mutilation.

"Look at that, your skin's perfectly healed. I knew you'd finally get over the need to keep hurting yourself."

Diversion of sorts, but maybe this was going somewhere along the same track, Hutch thought, watching Starsky, watching him.

"The needle tracks scars are still there if you look closely enough."

"Maybe. If I squint long enough. But that's not the marks I'm talking about. You ain't responsible for those scars Hutch."

"He made me feel like I was for a long time. Forrest, Monk – they made me feel that I was responsible for getting hooked on that junk."

"I know that. And ripping at your arms like you did every day for so long after it was over was your way of letting them still control you – still let them fuck up your life and how ya' felt about yourself right? But – you've stopped it now. Your arms are clean and maybe your head is too. Right? Forrest is behind you now, he didn't break you even though you thought at one time he had. You've moved on Hutch. "

Hutch closed his eyes, overwhelmed with the clarity of Starsky's message to him, Starsky's personal, private analogy, meant just for him. Overwhelmed with his partner's ability to capture the very essence of a complex concept and bring it back to the basics.

He looked up, a grateful smile on his lips.

"Now who's being the wise one? You see it's the same really isn't it? Forrest – Ryan ….others we've dealt with, others we will deal with in the future? Goes with the territory I guess. If we don't learn to let go, we get used up even if we survive the hell we went through."

"Forrest is locked up, serving a long long sentence Hutch. Maybe not enough punishment for what he did to you, but more than we know for sure Ryan's going to get if he's still alive."

"Doesn't matter that he's behind bars. It'll always be there Starsk – Forrest and the whole sordid shitty experience. You know better than even I do that I still carry the fear that the event somehow made me a different person."

"It's a whole fuckload to carry around isn't it? What this job does to us? Don't you ever wonder when the load will get too damn heavy for us to carry anymore Hutch? Don't you even wonder when we'll reach a point we just can't move on anymore? Can't just keep lettin' go?"

The room was quiet for a few moments before Hutch responded.

"Sure I do. I'm just hoping that you'll decide that it won't be this time. I need you too much partner. If I can move forward after Ryan put a hole in my chest, after he did all he did to you, then I'm asking you to as well. If it's too much to ask of you Starsk, then I'll just have to stay back with you."

"Stay back with me? Now what does that mean hey?"

"It means that if you are hell-bent on not giving up on this quest to finalize Ryan, I won't let you do it alone – even if it means that we both jeopardize our careers and possibly – once more – our lives. I know you would have done the same for me if I hadn't been able to get past my heroin ordeal."

"Jesus Hutch. Don't feel ya' have to pull back from puttin' the pressure on me or nothin'."

It was a tongue in cheek remark but Hutch ignored the lightness of Starsky's words.

"What do you say Starsky? Sink together or strike out for the shore?"

"I say you're in no fit state to go anywhere on land or water. Ya' need to quit with your fancy descriptions involving sinking and get some rest."

"And I say you need to get your exhausted ass home and sleep. Sleep and consider what we've talked about."

"Can't promise the sleepin' bit. That's up to my body to decide and the last two weeks my body is not decidin' it wants it."

"Alright then, I'll settle for you just going home and staying there. Let me know how the considering side of it goes tomorrow ok?"

"Now you're sounding far less smart than the Hutch I know. You think I really need to take time to consider what you've said to me? You'll put your neck on the line again if I don't give up on Ryan. You won't let me go it alone. And you said it with that worry line of yours all bunched up which means you're not just throwing out an idle threat. You'd do it."

"Got that right Starsk."

"Some choice to consider. You think I would ever willingly let you sink? Ever consider doin' something that would hurt ya" ? "

Hutch smiled and slid down further in the bed, unable to hide his yawn and slight grimace of pain. He was already starting to drift as Starsky smoothed down the blankets and pulled his sheet a little higher over his bandage bound chest.

His voice was drowsy but still held a touch of amused triumph.

"No – not for a moment partner. That's my ace in the hole. You're inherently –" he smothered another yawn " inherently incapable of – of doing anything that would hurt me."

Starsky settled back a little in his chair, inexplicably more relaxed than he had been in days. He'd wait a while yet to make sure Hutch was more deeply asleep before slipping out to try to get some of his own.

In the quiet stillness he heard the echo of Hutch's words just as he fell to sleep. The surety that Starsky would never willingly hurt him. He leaned forward to Hutch for one last physical touch before he left.

"Ya' got that right babe. You sure got that right."

THE END