As predicted, Starsky was aghast at the thought of leaving warm, sunny LA
for the "God-forsaken, barren boondocks!" "Are you crazy, Hutch?!" he
asked, horrified. "You want to drag me out into the mountains?"
"You make it sound like a dirty word," Hutch admonished mildly. "The Cascades are beautiful, Starsk. Mountains, woods, wild game, skiing... tourists."
"Tourists?" Starsky groaned theatrically, his eastern accent growing thicker. "You mean I got 'ta babysit tourists? Come on. Hutch, I don't know nuthin' 'bout the woods or tourists or--"
"Starsky." Hutch interrupted what was developing into a rather promising monologue on the evils of small towns in general and Langston, Oregon, in particular. "I've already talked with Neil. Once you get your strength back, we'll be able to work around any... uh... restrictions you might have." He finished lamely, shifting uncomfortably under Starsky's jaundiced eye, which was still boring into him.
That eye softened somewhat at his friend's obvious discomfort. Romantic soul though he might possess, Starsky had survived on the streets for far too long to be anything but a realist, and he knew the score as well as Hutch did. "You don't think I'm going to pass the medical board either, do you?" he asked.
The blond shook his head miserably. "No, buddy," he answered just as softly, "I don't."
"They'll put me behind a desk."
"And we won't be partners anymore." Hutch finished the thought which hung between them.
Starsky nodded and closed his eyes, acutely conscious of his friend's presence. He heard a rustle as Hutch leaned closer, and opened them again. "About time for your pill, isn't it?" the blond asked, glaring at his watch. "I'll get the nurse."
He made to move off but was brought up short as Starsky's steely fingers left his hand to lock around his wrist. "No... I...." The grip tightened for a moment, the only outward sign of pain Starsky now permitted to show. It was suddenly, vitally important that Hutch not leave him, not yet, not until the conversation was done. "Hutch, wait. Just a minute, okay? I-- I want to talk about this without being doped up. I hate that. Can't think, can't...." He realized that he was rambling; even now the drugs were still acting on his system, clouding his thoughts. He gave a tug on Hutch's wrist, pulling him down to sit on the edge of the hospital bed.
"Hutch, you don't have to do this." He felt a desire to verbalize this and was grateful that Hutch let him go on even though both were aware that these words were never - had never been-necessary between them. "You'll be giving up everything. you have a career here, a... new... partner. You don't have to do this. Hutch. Not for me."
Hutchinson waited patiently until the stumbling if earnest words were out. "You finished now?" he asked. Starsky nodded. "Good. Now that you have that out of your system you can listen to me." He leaned forward until he could rest his chin in his palm. "I'm not doing this for you, Starsk. Not really. I'm doing this for me, too - for both of us."
"I don't know, buddy." Hutch ran one hand through his shaggy blond hair, turning his other hand to recapture Starsky 's fingers. "I guess I'm just getting old - and tired. I'm tired of hurting and I'm even more tired of watching you hurt. I'm tired of fighting the filth and the poison and the never-ending stink of this city. I'm just... tired."
He raised his head, meeting the sympathy Starsky telegraphed in his eyes. "I want out, Starsk, and I want you out. Can't you understand that?" Hutch tightened his grip as his plea became more impassioned, more desperate. "We've been given a second chance. When you... died... I prayed, Starsky. I prayed to a God I'm not even sure I believe in that if we were given a second chance I... no, we wouldn't waste it. I don't want to waste it, buddy.
"Besides," he tousled Starsky's dark cuts affectionately, "you're my partner whether we're cops or not. I don't need another one." Echoed shadows of another declaration made a lifetime ago. I've got a partner. I don't need another one. Azure touched sapphire in a celebration of life. "Give it a try, Starsk," Hutch prodded though he must have been fully aware that it was no longer necessary. "If you really hate it, we'll try something else."
We will... we... "Guess I don't have much choice," Starsky grumbled with mock reluctance. "Ain't no way I can watch out for you from here."
They both smiled, drinking in the warmth of the moment - of the new beginning. Then Starsky snapped his fingers in sudden recall. "Hey, I nearly forgot. They're gonna let me out'a here tomorrow!" His eyes shone like a little boy's with a new toy and Hutch grinned in response.
"All right! What time do you get sprung?"
"High noon, partner," Starsky answered in his best John-Wayne-by-way-of- Brooklyn accent. "And you'd better have a pizza standing by, too, 'cause one more day of this hospital food...." He made a gauging sound. "I'm gonna have to stock up if I'm gonna be living in the freaking mountains."
"Starsky, they've got pizza in Oregon, you know."
"They do?" He brightened with mock surprise. "Hey, maybe this won't be so bad after all! They...."
Starsky's new-born enthusiasm was cut short when a very large nurse entered, bearing a tray. "Time for your pill, Mr. Starsky."
Starsky regarded the woman with obvious distaste. "l'm fine. I don't need it."
The nurse - Mrs. Wiggins according to the name tag pinned to one ample breast - sighed deeply. "We go through this every four hours," she explained to Hutch. "Okay, you, for the last time, you either take the pill or I call an orderly in here and we'll give you a shot." She glared. "Your choice, mister."
Hutch giggled at the expression on his friend's face. "Go on, Starsk, take the pill. It won't be for much longer."
"Yeah, right. But you just watch out, sister," he growled menacingly, "won't be much longer before I can take you." He eyed the woman dubiously. "Well, in two out of three, anyway."
"Dream on, buster." Nurse Wiggins waited until Starsky had swallowed the pill. "Good boy." She picked up a chart clipped to the bedpost. "Hmmm, I see you're getting out of here tomorrow." Starsky nodded enthusiastically, good humor restored. "Finally. And if you're ever back in here...."
"Ain't no way, baby. Hutch 'n me are goin' ta Oregon. Gonna become mountain men."
Nurse Wiggins drew the sheet up over the bandaged chest, the smallest hint of amusement tugging one stern lip when his eyelids drooped "Sleepy? I'm not surprised. It's way past time for your nap."
"Nap?" Starsky snorted. "I'm old enough to decide for myself when I wanna sleep. 'Kin even go to the john by myself."
"Fine." Nurse Wiggins threw up her hands in exasperation, muttering, "One more day. Just one more day." But she winked conspiratorially at Hutch as she left.
"Hutch?" faintly, more of an invocation than a question.
The blond stepped near the bed again and patted one shoulder comfortingly. Then he slipped his hand down the lax arm and picked up his friend's hand, massaging it lightly. "Right here, buddy."
"Stay? Please?" One bleary eye fixed itself appealingly on spot where he estimated Hutch's face should be.
"I'll be here, Starsk." "Promise?" "I promise."
That was enough. Starsky closed his eyes, satisfied. "Good- Talk to you later, then."
"Sure, partner." Starsky smiled at him and, within minutes, was fast asleep.
Hutch stood watching his partner a long time after that, his fingers still unconsciously locked around the now slack hand. "Later is a really good word, Starsk," he murmured quietly. "I didn't think we'd have another 'later' ever again." He laid one hand gently against the soft curls. "We don't get any more second chances, Starsk, and thanks for not making us waste this one."
Starsky turned slightly, nestling against Hutch's hand trustingly In his sleep. Tears blurred Hutch's vision, rolling unchecked down his cheeks. In a sudden, impulsive act. Hutch bowed his head, "Thank you, God," he whispered into the still room. "And God? I... believe," ***
"You make it sound like a dirty word," Hutch admonished mildly. "The Cascades are beautiful, Starsk. Mountains, woods, wild game, skiing... tourists."
"Tourists?" Starsky groaned theatrically, his eastern accent growing thicker. "You mean I got 'ta babysit tourists? Come on. Hutch, I don't know nuthin' 'bout the woods or tourists or--"
"Starsky." Hutch interrupted what was developing into a rather promising monologue on the evils of small towns in general and Langston, Oregon, in particular. "I've already talked with Neil. Once you get your strength back, we'll be able to work around any... uh... restrictions you might have." He finished lamely, shifting uncomfortably under Starsky's jaundiced eye, which was still boring into him.
That eye softened somewhat at his friend's obvious discomfort. Romantic soul though he might possess, Starsky had survived on the streets for far too long to be anything but a realist, and he knew the score as well as Hutch did. "You don't think I'm going to pass the medical board either, do you?" he asked.
The blond shook his head miserably. "No, buddy," he answered just as softly, "I don't."
"They'll put me behind a desk."
"And we won't be partners anymore." Hutch finished the thought which hung between them.
Starsky nodded and closed his eyes, acutely conscious of his friend's presence. He heard a rustle as Hutch leaned closer, and opened them again. "About time for your pill, isn't it?" the blond asked, glaring at his watch. "I'll get the nurse."
He made to move off but was brought up short as Starsky's steely fingers left his hand to lock around his wrist. "No... I...." The grip tightened for a moment, the only outward sign of pain Starsky now permitted to show. It was suddenly, vitally important that Hutch not leave him, not yet, not until the conversation was done. "Hutch, wait. Just a minute, okay? I-- I want to talk about this without being doped up. I hate that. Can't think, can't...." He realized that he was rambling; even now the drugs were still acting on his system, clouding his thoughts. He gave a tug on Hutch's wrist, pulling him down to sit on the edge of the hospital bed.
"Hutch, you don't have to do this." He felt a desire to verbalize this and was grateful that Hutch let him go on even though both were aware that these words were never - had never been-necessary between them. "You'll be giving up everything. you have a career here, a... new... partner. You don't have to do this. Hutch. Not for me."
Hutchinson waited patiently until the stumbling if earnest words were out. "You finished now?" he asked. Starsky nodded. "Good. Now that you have that out of your system you can listen to me." He leaned forward until he could rest his chin in his palm. "I'm not doing this for you, Starsk. Not really. I'm doing this for me, too - for both of us."
"I don't know, buddy." Hutch ran one hand through his shaggy blond hair, turning his other hand to recapture Starsky 's fingers. "I guess I'm just getting old - and tired. I'm tired of hurting and I'm even more tired of watching you hurt. I'm tired of fighting the filth and the poison and the never-ending stink of this city. I'm just... tired."
He raised his head, meeting the sympathy Starsky telegraphed in his eyes. "I want out, Starsk, and I want you out. Can't you understand that?" Hutch tightened his grip as his plea became more impassioned, more desperate. "We've been given a second chance. When you... died... I prayed, Starsky. I prayed to a God I'm not even sure I believe in that if we were given a second chance I... no, we wouldn't waste it. I don't want to waste it, buddy.
"Besides," he tousled Starsky's dark cuts affectionately, "you're my partner whether we're cops or not. I don't need another one." Echoed shadows of another declaration made a lifetime ago. I've got a partner. I don't need another one. Azure touched sapphire in a celebration of life. "Give it a try, Starsk," Hutch prodded though he must have been fully aware that it was no longer necessary. "If you really hate it, we'll try something else."
We will... we... "Guess I don't have much choice," Starsky grumbled with mock reluctance. "Ain't no way I can watch out for you from here."
They both smiled, drinking in the warmth of the moment - of the new beginning. Then Starsky snapped his fingers in sudden recall. "Hey, I nearly forgot. They're gonna let me out'a here tomorrow!" His eyes shone like a little boy's with a new toy and Hutch grinned in response.
"All right! What time do you get sprung?"
"High noon, partner," Starsky answered in his best John-Wayne-by-way-of- Brooklyn accent. "And you'd better have a pizza standing by, too, 'cause one more day of this hospital food...." He made a gauging sound. "I'm gonna have to stock up if I'm gonna be living in the freaking mountains."
"Starsky, they've got pizza in Oregon, you know."
"They do?" He brightened with mock surprise. "Hey, maybe this won't be so bad after all! They...."
Starsky's new-born enthusiasm was cut short when a very large nurse entered, bearing a tray. "Time for your pill, Mr. Starsky."
Starsky regarded the woman with obvious distaste. "l'm fine. I don't need it."
The nurse - Mrs. Wiggins according to the name tag pinned to one ample breast - sighed deeply. "We go through this every four hours," she explained to Hutch. "Okay, you, for the last time, you either take the pill or I call an orderly in here and we'll give you a shot." She glared. "Your choice, mister."
Hutch giggled at the expression on his friend's face. "Go on, Starsk, take the pill. It won't be for much longer."
"Yeah, right. But you just watch out, sister," he growled menacingly, "won't be much longer before I can take you." He eyed the woman dubiously. "Well, in two out of three, anyway."
"Dream on, buster." Nurse Wiggins waited until Starsky had swallowed the pill. "Good boy." She picked up a chart clipped to the bedpost. "Hmmm, I see you're getting out of here tomorrow." Starsky nodded enthusiastically, good humor restored. "Finally. And if you're ever back in here...."
"Ain't no way, baby. Hutch 'n me are goin' ta Oregon. Gonna become mountain men."
Nurse Wiggins drew the sheet up over the bandaged chest, the smallest hint of amusement tugging one stern lip when his eyelids drooped "Sleepy? I'm not surprised. It's way past time for your nap."
"Nap?" Starsky snorted. "I'm old enough to decide for myself when I wanna sleep. 'Kin even go to the john by myself."
"Fine." Nurse Wiggins threw up her hands in exasperation, muttering, "One more day. Just one more day." But she winked conspiratorially at Hutch as she left.
"Hutch?" faintly, more of an invocation than a question.
The blond stepped near the bed again and patted one shoulder comfortingly. Then he slipped his hand down the lax arm and picked up his friend's hand, massaging it lightly. "Right here, buddy."
"Stay? Please?" One bleary eye fixed itself appealingly on spot where he estimated Hutch's face should be.
"I'll be here, Starsk." "Promise?" "I promise."
That was enough. Starsky closed his eyes, satisfied. "Good- Talk to you later, then."
"Sure, partner." Starsky smiled at him and, within minutes, was fast asleep.
Hutch stood watching his partner a long time after that, his fingers still unconsciously locked around the now slack hand. "Later is a really good word, Starsk," he murmured quietly. "I didn't think we'd have another 'later' ever again." He laid one hand gently against the soft curls. "We don't get any more second chances, Starsk, and thanks for not making us waste this one."
Starsky turned slightly, nestling against Hutch's hand trustingly In his sleep. Tears blurred Hutch's vision, rolling unchecked down his cheeks. In a sudden, impulsive act. Hutch bowed his head, "Thank you, God," he whispered into the still room. "And God? I... believe," ***