Part 28

"Hey Lisa." Starsky smiled as he bent down beside the young woman and ran his fingers affectionately through her wavy blonde hair. She looked at him through large glistening, wet orbs and forced a smile. Lisa's eyes had always been big and blue, and alive with a childlike wonder as she looked out at the world as though she were seeing everything for the very first time. She was twenty-one years old now but still had the mind of a ten year old, which made her one of the most wonderful, beautiful and playful souls either Starsky or Hutch had ever known, but also one of the most vulnerable – more vulnerable than even little Rosie Dobey, who despite her tender age already knew so much about death and destruction, and the evils of a hostile world, due to her father's position in the force.

Lisa too had suffered her own traumas in her so far short life, and these still plagued her from time to time, but this was mainly in the form of her nightmares these days and for the most part she still lived in a kind of fairytale universe often frequented by children of a much younger age, and where characters such as Peter Pan and her own array of imaginary friends came to life.

Lisa had never really understood what had happened to Starsky, and she hadn't been allowed to visit him in the hospital because of the fear of what seeing him might have done to her. Starsky was glad that she hadn't seen him in that condition – the thought of what Hutch was now going through injured him more than any of the bullets Gunther's men had had to shoot at him, it hurt him deep within his very soul, but the thought of Lisa seeing him in that state too would have broken his heart.

"David, I haven't seen you in such a long, long time." Her voice was so quiet as she spoke, and there was something quite sad, and maybe even a note of confusion to her tone – only reinforcing Starsky's belief that she didn't really understand what was going on. He knew he had to tread carefully with her.

"I know sweetheart." He smiled a crooked smile as he placed a gentle and affectionate peck upon the top of the young woman's head and cradled her protectively within his arms. "But your momma told you how sick I've been didn't she?" He asked gently, and Lisa looked at him and nodded.

"I haven't seen Ken in such a long, long time either. Is that because he doesn't want to be my friend anymore?" She asked sadly. Her glistening blue eyes bore into Starsky's, and she held his gaze with a questioning curiosity he'd never seen from the young girl before. There was a deep pain in her expression, and a strange sense of longing which Starsky could sympathise with. It was a longing for things to go back to the way they once were, for everything that had happened to be nothing more than part of some horrific nightmare.

"No sweetheart, no." He smiled, shaking his head sadly as he cupped the top of her head within one hand and drew her closer towards him. His heart warmed as he felt her own arms gently enwrap themselves around his waist. "Hutch loves you very much." He explained. "Just as he loves your momma, and he loved your dad. It's just that Hutch has been quite poorly too, and he needs a lot of rest and quiet to make sure that he gets better, but I promise he'll come and see you soon."

The young woman sat up and looked at him, and he was relieved to see that he appeared to have pacified her fears as a small smile twisted the corners of her lips and lifted her rosy cheeks – but they could never really be entirely sure just how much Lisa really understood about the situation. For his own part Starsky suspected that she was capable of understanding a great deal more than most people gave her credit for, and as a result had always felt particularly protective towards the young woman. They would probably never know just how much Lisa really understood about death outside of the realms of her own experiences however.

"Lisa, I have some milk and cookies for you." Mitzi, the young woman's mother, popped her head around the door and smiled. Starsky looked up at her as she entered the room carrying a small plate, upon which was a small pile of three or four biscuits, and a large glass of milk for her daughter. As she placed them down upon the small coffee table Starsky got to his feet and watched as Mitzi held her daughter close to her for a moment, before kissing her tenderly on the forehead and releasing her from her tight embrace.

"Dave and I are going to have coffee in the kitchen now, alright?" She softly explained, "You just give me a shout though if you need anything?"

The young woman nodded, turning her attention to the plate of sweet snacks on the coffee table before her, and her mother smiled.

Starsky then followed Mitzi into the kitchen where she'd laid out the coffee on the small dinging table, and sat down beside her as she poured the pot of steaming brown liquid into two large cups. He grimaced as he sat down, finding himself still a little stiff, and as Mitzi noticed she smiled sadly back at him and put her hand on his knee, giving it a slight squeeze. He immediately returned the gesture by placing his own hand over the top of hers, and they sat there for a couple of seconds revelling in the combined comfort and support of each other – friends had never been more important to either Starsky or Hutch in their lives before as they had throughout the past few difficult months. Mitzi had been one of those who'd been there for them both from the very beginning; she had sat with Starsky on nights when it had been quite apparent that Hutch, and even Huggy and Captain Dobey had been in desperate need of some proper rest, and had invited Hutch over to her place on many an occasion following Starsky's recovery from his coma, making sure that he ate at least a couple of hot meals throughout the week. Although recent events had made Starsky wonder just how much Hutch had actually eaten during these bi-weekly visits and how much he'd just relished in the company of another kind human being.

Both Mitzi and her young daughter Lisa meant a lot to both of them, and Starsky for one would be eternally grateful to the young woman for everything she had done.

"So," She asked him, adding sugar to both cups of the caramel coloured liquid before them, and handing one of them to Starsky, "how are you both doing?"

The curly haired brunette took a slow swig of his rich, aromatic drink, savouring the bitter tang and the feel of the sugar dissolve upon his tongue, and sighed.

"To be honest with you Mitzi," he shook his head, "I'm not really sure." He responded in all honesty after carefully considering his answer.

He noticed the concern come over her face as he said this, but true to character she didn't say anything – she just waited for him to continue. Starsky had always admired the woman's patience, he'd long supposed that it came from having a daughter who'd been disabled from birth, but in all honesty he suspected that Mitzi would probably be one of those kind hearted souls who'd do anything to help another out even if Lisa hadn't been born with the differences she'd been blessed with. It didn't seem to matter how strained Mitzi felt, how concerned or under pressure she found herself, nor how pushed for time, she had a wonderful way of giving the impression that she had all the time in the world.

"Hutch isn't well." He admitted to her finally. "Me, well, I'm doing much better. The docs have even reduced some of the medication I've been taking, and I don't find physio such a chore anymore because I'm finding it much easier these days, but Hutch, well, he's not doing well…"

"Has he seen a doctor?" Mitzi asked.

Starsky nodded. "He's still on the sleeping pills to help him sleep," He explained, "and on anti-emetics to at least try and reduce some of the sickness, but even when he takes those as directed they only work about eighty percent of the time. The thing is he's spent so long unable to eat properly that now that he's finally feeling up to putting some food in his stomach he's body's rejecting it… and of course it's quite understandable that he doesn't feel much like eating when every time he does it makes him so severely sick."

Mitzi looked grave, her lips settling in a line of unspoken sympathy across her face.

"It's not easy David, I know that." She agreed.

"I know you do." He looked across at her, and smiled weakly. There was a pain in Mitzi's eyes he knew she still found difficult to express, even so many years after the death of her husband – Lisa's father. The woman knew better than anyone the dangers of a policeman's life, and the devastation reeked by a select few individuals determined to protect their own interests, operating on the wrong side of the law. Both Starsky and Hutch had been there the day that Frank had been gunned down – Hutch himself had been injured in the shootout which had ensued as he'd rushed to his friend's side. Frank hadn't deserved to die that day, he'd been a good man – a good friend, a good father, a good husband, and a good officer – just as Starsky hadn't deserved what had happened to him, and Hutch hadn't deserved having to witness what he'd been forced to witness.

Being an officer, working the streets of Bay City automatically made you easy pickings for any number of depraved individuals who'd made their living scraping the gutters of civilised society – a fact which couldn't be dwelled upon throughout the course of normal day to day living for too long, lest it should prevent one from living their life to the full, and in the manner in which was intended. Every now and again however something would happen which would shake the very foundations on which their lives had been built and force them to confront the inevitability of their own mortality.

"I just wish there was something more I could do." Mitzi sighed.

Starsky took her by the hand as she said this and squeezed it gently within his own, in what he intended to be a reassuring gesture. Their eyes met, and he smiled.

"Believe me," He sighed, "you don't need to, you're here, and that's enough. That's all Hutch and I need to know."

Mitzi looked back at him, and as she did so he smiled and she realised that he was right. It might have been a cliché, but sometimes having someone out there who you knew was there for you and on your side when times were hard was all it took to make a difference to a bad situation – and Mitzi knew this all too well from her own experience.