Part 5

Later that day as Starsky lay sleeping he stirred peacefully as the familiar figure of a young woman with rich locks of dark brown hair and a radiant gleam in her soft eyes broke through his dreams, and began to approach his hospital bed.

"Terry." Starsky muttered audibly through his unconsciousness as he immediately recognised the woman. She still looked as perfect to him as the day she had died, and as beautiful as she had ever been.

"I'm here Davy." She spoke softly. "Just like I said I always would be."

Starsky smiled and the two regarded each other affectionately in the way they always had during their short time together. "I've missed you." He whispered as he reached out to touch her approaching form – slightly taken aback as his outstretched fingers made unexpected contact with her rosy cheekbone, and he immediately withdrew from her as though he sensed sadly that this was something which was not yet meant to be.

"I'm sorry." She whispered understanding his pain. She allowed him a few brief seconds in which to savour this moment together. "Our day will come." She promised him. "But not yet. Hutch needs you Dave, he's sick."

"I need you too though." Starsky replied as he reached out to take Terry's soft hands within his own.

"No…" She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "Not anymore you don't. You did once, and someday you will again, but I'm afraid I can't stay."

"But I don't know how to help him." Starsky explained, feeling a sense of desperation as to his horror Terry's fingers became absorbed into his palm as her solid form gradually began to dissolve in front of him.

"Of course you do. You always have." She smiled. "It'll come to you in time. I promise."

"I thought best friends didn't need to make promises." Starsky smiled a watery smile as her lips gently caressed his cheek. He wanted to reach out and embrace her, to hold her close to him, but her form was no longer solid and there was no part of her for him to grab onto.

"This is a different kind of promise." She whispered, a delicate breath in his ear, "To ensure that you never loose faith, and you don't let Hutch loose faith either. He needs you."

"But how can I hold onto you?" He asked her. "How can I hold onto this?"

"You can't…" She told him sadly. " This is not your time. Hutch couldn't survive without you, just like you couldn't without him."

"But will I remember this?" Starsky asked her, desperate for some small token to cling onto. She shook her head.

"When you wake up this will seem nothing more than a dream to you. Just never forget me or what we once had." She asked of him. "Promise me that you won't let Hutch forget either."

"Just stay a while." Starsky pleaded as Terry's faint figure faded further before his eyes. "Just a little longer… I love you."

"I know." She smiled. "I love you to."

There was a sudden rush of warm air like a gentle breath to the back of Starsky's neck, ruffling his hair. Starsky closed his eyes, and when he opened them again she was gone.

He awoke with a jolt.

His heart felt inexplicably heavy, as though something very precious and beautiful had just been cruelly stolen away from him, leaving him with an almost unearthly loneliness – yet in mind he felt strangely enlightened. He glanced over at the clock as it ticked away the seconds… minutes… lonely hours from where it was fixed upon the wall opposite him – six o' clock. Starsky frowned, there was no sign of Hutch as he took in the emptiness of his lonely hospital room. His partner had failed to return.

Starsky punched the alarm on the remote control he'd been given, alerting the on-duty nurse to his need.

"You're only supposed to use that in an emergency." The young woman who responded to his call said with a smile. She took the small red buzzer from him gently and placed it on his bedside table.

"I'm sorry." He apologised as he registered the concern in her eyes despite her mock scolding. "I just need to know… have there been any messages left for me?"

"Not that I know of." She responded with a casual shake of her head. "Is anything wrong?" She asked him as she noticed the change in his expression from one of curiosity to one of concern.

"Maybe." Starsky muttered to himself before faltering, "Umm, no, it's alright… I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"That's my job." She smiled as she turned to leave the room. "Just call if you need anything else."

Starsky nodded. When she'd left the dark void of silence once again descended, and his thoughts drifted back to his absent best friend. He wondered helplessly what to do when suddenly the answer became clear to him – as though carried by a familiar and comforting voice, delivered by a gentle whisper in his ear.

"Hutch needs you Dave… he's beginning to give up."

He picked up the phone on the bedside cabinet next to him, and dialled a number which was as much imprinted in his memory as Hutch's and Captain Dobey's, and waited for someone to answer. He didn't have to wait long.

"'The Pits' gourmet catering and traditional beverages. You've reached the proprietor Huggy Bear."

"Huggy it's Starsky." He responded urgently. "Listen, I need you to do something for me."

"Sure. What's up?" Huggy asked him.

"I need you to check on Hutch for me." Starsky explained. He ignored the concern in his friend's voice, and this in turn only served to fuel Huggy's unease. He registered the obvious agitation in Starsky's tone.

"Is something wrong?" His friend asked him.

"I'm not sure." Starsky explained before faltering. He couldn't be sure that there was anything wrong with Hutch. "Maybe… Not necessarily… Just do this for me Hug, for Hutch, please."

"Sure. As if you need to ask." Huggy smiled, easing some of Starsky's unease. It reassured him to know that Hutch had so many people looking out for him. Huggy did his best to convince Starsky that he was sure that everything was alright, and by the time he put the phone down on his friend he was already feeling much more at ease and reassured about the situation.

Huggy's concerns for Hutch meanwhile had been growing for a few days now, although he hadn't yet voiced his worry to anyone. With this in mind he wasn't entirely sure that he had believed his own words, and he felt a pang of guilt at having given Starsky empty reassurances. He knew in his own heart that Hutch wasn't alright – he was very far from being so – and he berated himself that if they'd only all been paying more attention to him over the past few difficult weeks, then perhaps they might have noticed a glimmer then of what was to come sooner.