Disclaimers still the same.
Enjoy.
___________________________
EERIE, CALIFORNIA
by wuemsel
PART 2
It had stopped raining.
And it was dark.
Even after he´d finally managed to lift his eyelids that were obviously weighted down with stones, it was still dark. Not as dark as before, though, what with a full moon beaming like a pale sun high above his head, but surely too dark enough for his liking.
He gave a tiny moan just to hear his own voice, then started to get an update of his increasingly worsening situation.
The last thing he remembered was hanging from a tree in a net trap, soaked, cold, shivering, bleeding, probably concussed, and beyond anger.
NOW he wasn´t hanging anymore, but lying on the cold, muddy ground in a very small puddle, STILL cold, STILL soaked, STILL shivering, bleeding more than before and as far as he could tell his concussion had been promoted from a possibility to a fact.
His whole body felt like he´d been run over by a truck. The slightest movement of his head presented him with enough pain to almost knock him out again, and on top of everything he´d landed with his right arm somehow tangled behind his back.
He didn´t need to check to find out that it was broken, along with the wrist and at least three fingers.
He groaned a little louder when he moved his legs and feet to check for further injuries. But the relief that followed the result was short-lived, because as he became more alert he suddenly noticed the now slack ropes that lay on his face, chest, legs.
He blinked in confusion and despite the agony in his head, stretched his neck backwards just a tad.
"Uhhhc´mon," he pleaded with no one in particular, his voice raspy and in the dark stillness too loud for his sensitive ears, so that he settled for a strained whisper, adding: "This is NOT happening. Please."
He was still caught in the net.
And now that he took a closer look at it he saw that not only had he hit his head when hitting the ground, but the branch the net had been attached to, had also fallen on him, hitting his forehead.
He blinked again and felt sticky crusted blood at the corner of his left eye. The whole left side of his face felt like it was on fire, and a sudden dizziness reminded him of not moving NOR blinking too much.
But other than his head and arm, he seemed okay.
Cold, shivering, but all his ribs were still intact, he could breathe, and he was only slightly nauseous as long as he didn´t try to move.
'Could be worse,' he thought grimly, arching his quivering, surely bluish lips to a wry smile.
When even that hurt, he winced and rolled his eyes.
'Oh yeah, could be MUCH worse! I could be in Miami in a warm, comfortable bed. Gee, how much FUN I´d miss then! How much ADVENTURE!!!'
A sudden noise next to him startled him enough to flinch and wince at the pain that it stirred. He couldn´t move his head to the direction the noise had come from, and cold sweat quickly mixed with still drying blood on his forehead.
'This is great. This is TERRIFIC! I´m not only hurt, nooo, I´m already trussed up. A Starsky-Burger To Go, already wrapped up.'
Somewhere over his own rambling voice in his head he heard his rational cop-voice wondering if Hutch would really chose a forest that inhabited wolves for their vacation.
He was known to not care about bears and rattlesnakes...
'If I´m gonna die as a midnight snack here, I swear I´ll return to haunt the Blintz residence. I swear I´ll-'
The returning of the noise, brushing sounds, like something moving through the bushes, cut off his frantic thoughts.
He swallowed dryly, trying to look behind him in panic, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot through his head and threatened to cover his whole line of vision with small, blinking stars.
And then there was a new sound, a small cry or growl, much like a cats, that mixed with the other one still seemingly coming nearer.
"Hu-Hutch?"
To hoarsely whisper his partner´s name was a pure Starsky-reflex, and when he felt the first touch of a strange paw or claw in his hair, he couldn´t help let out a fear-filled scream.
"HUUUUUUTCH!!!"
His own voice rang in his ears painfully, and the burning agony behind his eyes almost sent him over the edge of consciousness again.
It was only the faint feeling of something jumping from his head onto his chest that made him snap open his eyes in horror and--freeze wide-eyed.
Tiny chocolate eyes blinked only inches from his face, an equally tiny nose quivered while sniffling at his own, much larger one.
The squirrel lifted one small paw as if to pat the man´s cheek, but stopped and jumped back a little, so that it now sat on Starsky´s belly with its feet tangled in the ropes of the net.
The detective let out a breath he hadn´t knew he´d held and laughed slightly out of pure relief.
"Y-Ya scared the hell outta me, you know that?!"
The animal didn´t respond, but didn´t flee at thesound of his voice either. It seemed to be content where it was.
Starsky blinked in surprise. "Guess I´m cozier than I thought. First birdie, then you...Maybe I oughta think about a career change, huh? Animal Perch."
The squirrel tilted its fuzzy head to one side.
"I´m Dave," Starsky introduced himself politely and moved his head an inch when the squirrel shifted its position on his chest. It came down to its four paws and seemed to inspect the ropes stretched over Starsky´s still damp and torn shirt.
The detective frowned, then raised his brows in disbelief when he suddenly saw the small animal starting to gnaw at the thick material.
"Who are you, Lassie?" he asked with a surprised, happy chuckle.
The squirrel´s head snapped up at the sudden jerking movement of his chest, squealed in obvious panic and jumped away. Only it tangled its feet in a hole in the ropes it had been standing in, and fell, its feet practically tied up now.
Starsky watched the brief scene with wide-eyed bewilderment, then--at the sight of the panicked animal now tied to his chest--burst into laughter.
"No," he gasped, his vision swimming from the jerking movements of his head. "NOT Lassie. Definitely NOT Lassie!"
****
The kid might be stupid, but he definitely knew how to explain a path.
Hutch didn´t have to look twice to know exactly which tree the one that "looks like the Marshmallow Man" was, where he had to park the Torino at the side of the road and enter the dark forest.
The freezing cold that met him once he´d stepped out of the car chilled him not only physically, but it also added to the gnawing fear and dread that had built up inside him ever since he´d left the Diner From Hell to search for Starsky.
The concrete of the street still glittered damply in the moonlight, and Hutch had no doubt the ground in the forest would be muddy, soaked, full of splinters, not to mention animals--in short: just PERFECT for barefoot hikes.
On top of all that, Starsky was not what one could have called wilderness-proof. He was easy to scare, easy to panic and easy to get into trouble. Especially when he was cold, hungry and cranky.
Bracing himself with a deep, calming breath, the blond detective gathered together what he´d take with him on his search, his and Starsky´s sleeping-bags, pullovers and socks, candy bars, some water and a flashlight.
His backpack was a bit heavy when he´d gotten everything in and attached to it, but there was no other way. He seriously doubted finding Starsky in a well enough condition to hike back to the car immediately, and there was no way he would place a foot inside the dark, scary, treeish unknown without some stuff.
Humming "Be Prepared" to himself, he entered the forest. After the first row of trees, civilization was nowhere to be seen.
It seemed as if he couldn´t even see the road anymore when he turned around, though he knew that it was just because of the darkness, but still he had to admit that it was one of the most scary bunch of trees he´d ever seen.
While slowly making his way through the thick, hindering fauna, he wondered if even if they had not run into trouble beforehand, their vacation there would have been a success.
Or as long as he´d planned it to be.
He could even hear Starsky´s whispered admission of panic in his head. "Hutch, d´you hear that? You think there´re wolves in here? Or maybe bears? Mountain lions?"
"Yeah," he´d have answered sleepily, "Big Foot, buddy. Say hello from me."
The sickening concern increased at his imagination, and he quickened his steps, willing the path to be clearer, easier to follow.
'I´m coming, buddy. I´m coming. And I promise you can yell at me all you like as long as you´re all right. Please just be all right, Starsk.'
****
"Hey Goofy," Starsky whispered, frowning confusedly at how sleepy, how weak his own voice sounded. He didn´t feel sleepy.
Well, not much.
"D´you...d´you know wh-what time it is?"
The squirrel didn´t even stir. It had started to play possum when finding out it couldn´t free itself from its bounds. It just lay flat on Starsky´s chest, snuggled up on the freezing body underneath its own as if seeking warmth and comfort from it.
Yet both were nothing Starsky could offer at the moment. Though he´d stopped to actually feel the cold what felt like hours ago, his violent, uncontrollable trembling left no doubt about how cold he actually was.
It was becoming hard to keep his eyes open, to concentrate on the sounds of the forest. He´d started to play Twenty Questions with Goofy, but had stopped when talking had become too exhausting.
As soon as he´d realized he would drift off when he just lay there, though, he´d started to talk to the squirrel again. Lucky Goofy surely could show off with all his knowledge in front of the other squirrels now.
"Hey, y-you better write this down, Goof," Starsky advised his small pal as he explained to him the perfect burrito.
"I mean, you don´t wanna tree-jump for hours to the nearest burrito stand and then forget the important things, right?"
Goofy didn´t answer. Starsky took that as agreement.
"Right," he repeated and had to cough hoarsely. His throat was becoming raw, and he was so thirsty it hurt.
"B-but we just t-talk about me. H-how `bout you, buddy, hm? How long you´ve been li-living here? Huh?"
Lifting his head just a bit, the detective looked at the animal´s fur in the dim moonlight. He had to squeeze his eyes shut briefly at the pain that shot like a knife through his head at that.
"Ow, sh-shouldn´t d-do that," he muttered and lay back down, blinking up at the stars. "How´s the leg, Goof?"
When there was no response, he sighed. "H-hey, you´re not drifting off on me here, huh? Huh?" His own eyes slid shut without him even noting. "I-it´s n-not good to sleep with a concussion, y-ya know. Not good. `specially not when you´re cold. When you´re cold, ya get tired, but you need to stay awake. Hutch told me that the...the other time we were camping. He´s really into this stuff, ya know."
He sighed and rolled his eyes, only then realizing they were closed. He opened them with a great deal of effort and blinked a few times.
"Me, I don´t like camping. I mean, hey, no offense, kid, but your forest is a mess. It stinks. And it´s got mud all over it, d´you notice that? It´s disgusting. N-not to mention there are meeeaaaan folks in those places, and I´m not talking dumb clumsy squirrels here."
He coughed again, the ruttling enough to make the squirrel stir and shift its position. Its fur brushed against Starsky´s left hand resting on his chest, and he slowly started to stroke one finger over the animal´s back.
The fur was soft, but cold. Starsky could barely feel the touch. He knew he was too tired to be scared by that, yet a small frown of distress crawled over his blood-crusted forehead.
"I-I don´t know why he likes camping so much. I think it´s dumb. Why live in a muddy, dirty, stinking animal´s restroom with no food when there are OTHER places on this planet? D´you get it?"
He gave a pause for emphasis and to gather a bit more strength, before continuing.
"You know, Goofy-boy, I didn´t really mean to tell you this, but I get the feeling you´re ready to take this now: where I come from you can buy nuts in bags. I´m not kidding you. I´ve never had to search for food in my li...Well, as long as I´m not on any camping trip with Hutch, I mean. Getting jealous already? `Kay here´s the real burner: you can get `em with salt. Or roasted. Or both. Yeah, I know. You understand what I´m talking about, right? Civilization rules."
His eyes closed again.
"I tell you what, Goof. When Hutch comes to get us outta here, I´m taking you with me to Miami. What´re ya say, partner? Huh?" Starsky asked, his speech so slurred Goofy wouldn´t have understood it even if he could have.
'Don´t fall asleep, Davey. C´mon, you don´t want to fall asleep. You want to keep talking to the squirrel. Keep talking to the squirrel.'
But the words wouldn´t come. His finger stopped moving, though he didn´t notice it.
'Cold. `S too cold, Hutch. Hurry.'
****
'Twenty minutes my foot!' Hutch thought angrily and kicked away a large soaked bush that lay flat in the mud, making the ground even slipperier than it already was.
It had been half an hour since he´d started his late night hiking tour, and still no sign of Starsky.
'What d´you think, Hutchinson? That he´d just lay here, waiting for you?! Of course he´d try for a way out.'
He had to stop to clear the path again, and secretly welcomed the opportunity to stop and catch his breath
for a second.
'Right, and OF COURSE he´d chose the WRONG way!' he added in his thoughts. 'Starsky´s Law.'
By now he was pretty sure he´d reached a new level on his worrymeter. Now that he´d seen and more importantly FELT the ground, he didn´t want to imagine what it could do to bare feet. Besides, it seemed it had gotten even colder, and the sounds of animals in the distance did nothing to calm him either.
Starsky could fight and beat an armed man twice his size and weight without any fear, but in this environment he was the most helpless creature around. The man was even scared of mice, and though he´d spent numerous camping trips with Hutch by now he still believed in throwing something, no matter which animal was about to attack him.
Having won yet another fight with hindering branches having fallen off trees and onto the ground, Hutch suddenly froze in his steps, looking ahead with a frown.
He carefully lifted the flashlight off the ground before him to get a clearer look at what lay before him.
A rather long, strangely white squared thing lay absolutely still under a large tree, a big branch next to it, that seemed somehow connected to the white material.
Hutch knew that it was no animal, still he couldn´t help tensing up instinctively. It was only when he´d taken another extremely careful step that realization suddenly hit him, and he gasped.
Traps. Of course. Wendy had told him about Tim´s father being a trapper. A net trap had fallen off a tree. And the reason that it had fallen off a tree was--
"Starsk!"
The blond was next to his partner in a second, frantically brushing his fingers against too cold skin.
Starsky stirred beneath warm fingers that searched for a pulse, making it clear that that wasn´t necessary, and Hutch sighed with relief.
"Starsky. Buddy, it´s me. Can you open your eyes for me? Starsk?"
His partner´s head lolled to the side Hutch´s voice came from, but it was in slow-motion, and his eyes remained closed, his bluish lips slightly parted, but no words came out.
"C´mon, babe, wake up, you gotta--" Hutch encouraged his friend, already rummaging through his backpack, but stopped when he saw the small fuzzy ball resting on Starsky´s chest, seemingly caught in a cold, cramped hand.
"Hey you," Hutch greeted the squirrel and reached out to for it.
With a startled moan, that was planned as a "no" but didn´t quite make it, Starsky jerked away from Hutch´s hand. His eyes snapped open wildly and he accidentally rolled off his right arm just an inch, but that was enough to make him whimper in pain.
Hutch quickly drew his hands away, holding them in front of his chest. "Hey, hey, hey, easy, buddy, easy. I´m not gonna hurt the squirrel, okay? Starsk? You with me now?"
"Hu-Hutch?" Starsky asked hoarsely, blinking wildly against the agony that now ran freely through his broken bones.
"Yeah, it´s me, buddy. It´s okay. I got you now."
"Wh-what took you so long?"
Hutch smiled wryly at the familiar line. "Had to get the Coke back first," he joked and reached out for the squirrel again that had woken up from its lethargic state and was struggling in Starsky´s grip now.
"Can you let go off the poor thing, Starsk?"
"I would," Starsky replied weakly. "B-but...can´t move my hand."
"Okay," Hutch soothed. "It´s all right. Let me try." Gently, he unclenched Starsky´s fingers. Goofy trembled underneath the hold.
"That hurt, buddy?" Hutch asked and when he got no answer turned to look at his shivering friend worriedly. "Starsk?"
"Yeah, wha...Y-you talkin´ ta me?"
"No, Gordo, to the squirrel, of course."
"Okay," Starsky breathed weakly.
Hutch rolled his eyes, a feeble gesture to wipe away his concern and, since Starsky didn´t utter any sounds indicating it did hurt, unclenched the last finger.
"Okay, boy, go," he told the squirrel.
"He´s caught," Starsky informed him with his sleep-thick voice. "In...in the net. Tried to get me out. Watched too much Lassie..."
"I bet," Hutch muttered. He´d already started to fumble with the ropes wrapped around the struggling squirrel´s leg.
The moment they came off, the animal jumped away from the touch, turned and ran away.
"Was nice meeting you too, Goof!" Starsky called after it as loudly as he could, then winced. "Ow, my head."
"Glad to see you already made friends here," Hutch said, softly probing at the swollen and bloody left side of Starsky´s face, while with the other hand searching for the pocket knife in his backpack. "That way we know where to go when we come back for our vaca--"
"Will you please get me out of here so I can kick your ass?!"
"Just a sec."
It didn´t take long to get Starsky out of the net, though he could barely move without Hutch´s help. He was so cold he had stopped shivering, but now that Hutch quickly massaged his limp fingers, the feeling returned, and they started to hurt.
"Okay, buddy, let´s get you into something warm, and then I´ll have a look at your feet."
A weak hand brushed against the front of Hutch´s shirt without accomplishing the task of grabbing it. "D-did you find my sh-shoes?"
"Sure, buddy," Hutch smiled and patted Starsky´s shoulder. "Got them with me."
"Okay," Starsky sighed and lay back, his eyes closing. "`M gonna kill that kid."
Hutch bit his lip and swallowed the reply that came to his mind while he struggled to get Starsky´s arms into the sleeves of a large, thick pullover he´d brought along.
"There you go. Feel better already?"
"Hm-mm. Tired," Starsky answered.
No, Starsky. Not yet, okay? Buddy? Hey, look at me," Hutch urged, gently slapping Starsky´s cheeks that quickly become flushed.
The blond sighed inwardly. He doubted there was any way his partner would get out of this without getting sick. Starsky was quick at running high fevers, and walking, not to mention lying in ice cold puddles for hours was on top of the lists of things he didn´t need.
"Yeah, `m still here," Starsky mumbled, blinking his eyes open. "Still...here. Hutch?"
"Yeah?"
"Never gonna go campin´ `gain."
Hutch chuckled and glanced up from where he´d taken a closer look at Starsky´s scratched feet.
"I didn´t see any animals stealing your car, knocking you out and dragging you in here," he said softly, brushing away a damp stray curl from Starsky´s eyes.
"I bet he was hired by the bear mob or somethin´. They prob´ly hung up that damn trap too."
"Sure, Gordo, sure. Okay, I´m gonna get you into some socks now, and I know it might hurt, but it´s necessary so you´ll warm up faster, okay?"
"Socks´re nice."
"Right," Hutch nodded absentmindedly while trying not to hurt his friend further as he carefully pulled thick woolen socks over his damaged feet.
He then wrapped Starsky in his sleeping bag, using it also as a makeshift restraint for the broken arm, and settled them both leaned against the tree the trap had hung from, with Starsky´s head resting on his shoulder.
"Getting warmer already, buddy?"
"Hm-mm. Tired."
"I know, Starsk. But first I want you to eat this," he held out a candy bar to his dazed friend, "and have something to drink. Then you can sleep a bit. Promise. Okay?"
"Starsky´s finger weakly brushed against the bottle of water, and Hutch helped him to drink a few sips.
"Okay, good. And now eat something, c´mon."
"Uh," Starsky shook his head wearily. "Sick."
"You´re going to be sick?"
"N-no, was...sick," the injured detective mumbled. His strength was fading fast now that he knew he didn´t have to hold out anymore. Hutch was there, and he was safe. All he wanted now was sleep.
"You´re concussed," Hutch nodded concerned, softly brushing away the thick curls on the back of Starsky´s head that were crusted with dried blood.
"Was sick over an anthill," Starsky said in a childlike tone, and Hutch smiled, allowing his partner to slide down to rest his head on his lap.
"Well, I hope they didn´t take it as an attack," he joked. "If you don´t feel up to eating, you don´t have to, babe. Just rest for a bit, before we go back to the car, okay?"
Starsky seemed to be asleep before his eyes closed, and Hutch settled for a long night, holding his friend close and with the free hand gently stroking his head.
****
The sun had barely risen, when Hutch gently shook his partner awake.
It had been a long night just as he´d expected, for not only had he have to wake Starsky every few hours because of his head injuries, but just as he had also expected, his partner had developed a steadily increasing fever in the middle of the night that had left him struggling against Hutch´s hold and squirming in his sleeping bag when he´d started to get too hot.
"Hey buddy, wake up."
"Hmmnhm," Starsky muttered disapprovingly and shifted his position slightly to bury his face in Hutch´s chest.
The blond sighed. "Starsk, wake up, c´mon. We gotta get back to the car and get you to a hospital."
"Hmmmni don´t wanna go to a hospital. I hate hospitals."
"I know," Hutch replied, while he carefully lifted his partner off his lap and zipped open the sleeping-bag. "How´s your arm?"
"Hurts," Starsky muttered, his eyes though open dull and almost covered by too heavy lids.
Hutch sighed again. "And your head?"
Starsky shrugged tiredly.
"Oookay, I think we better try to hurry." He placed a cool hand on his friend´s forehead and grimaced at the apparent heat he felt there.
"Starsk, are you hot or cold?"
Starsky shrugged again. "Tired." A violent shiver followed and almost sent him falling over his side.
Hutch caught him quickly and held him upright while he peeled the rest of the sleeping-bag off him.
"Do you want that candy bar now?"
Starsky shook his head slowly.
"Buddy, you gotta eat."
"Feel sick."
"Doesn´t matter, you still got to eat. I won´t carry you through the woods here."
Grumbling, but just not up to a fight, Starsky finally accepted the offered candy and chewed unenthusiastically, while Hutch packed their things.
"Hey, where´s Goofy?" the smaller man asked after a short while.
"Usually with Mickey."
Starsky frowned. "Who´s Mickey?"
The true confusion in his raspy voice made Hutch stop in tracks and turn to look into feverish blue eyes worriedly. Realizing his partner had meant the squirrel, the blond said: "He left yesterday, don´t you remember?"
"Oh," Starsky mumbled, then raised his brows a bit. "Right. Right. Pity, ya know. I wanted to show him roasted nuts."
"You can bring a bag the next time," Hutch grinned, but quickly rushed over to his partner´s side when he noticed that Starsky was too out of it to keep up the banter.
A seemingly too heavy head lolled against his shoulder when he kneeled next to his friend to help him to his feet.
"Hey, buddy, think you can make it? Truth."
"Sure," Starsky winked, the true Starsky spirit reaching the surface at last, "stop fussing, blintz. Let´s get going before the ants´ army arrives."
Agonizingly slowly and painfully on Starsky´s side, they made their way back through the thick green to the waiting Torino.
"Y-you know," Starsky panted once he was seated in the passenger seat, already half asleep again, "at least you got a night under the stars, right? Camping at its best."
"Oh yeah," Hutch nodded dryly. "And a whole day at Eerie too. Lots of friendly people there."
Starsky opened one eye to glance at his partner. "Are you gonna tell me now how hard YOUR day was?"
"Uh...no."
"Good."
Hutch started the engine and drove off, gazing at his friend from time to time. Though Starsky´s fever hadn´t yet vanished, it hadn´t increased either. They obviously had just made it in time to prevent a more serious infection.
"Starsk?"
"Hm?" the half-sleeping detective mumbled.
"We still got four days off, you know."
As if in slow motion, Starsky´s head rose from the headrest as he blinked unbelievingly at his friend. "You´re not-"
"I´m just saying that with your head and all you surely need some time off somewhere that´s-"
"What d´you want, Hutch, kill me?!" Starsky asked exasperated, throwing his good hand in the air. "D´you know a forest with bear traps or what?! If you don´t want me around anymore, there are easier ways of getting rid of me, you kno...Ow!"
"What?" Hutch asked deeply concerned immediately, looking over at Starsky, who´d grabbed his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Head, head," he whimpered.
"Aw, babe. See," Hutch soothed, reaching over to gently touch Starsky´s shoulder. "That´s exactly what I meant. You deserve this week off. And...you deserve to spend it in civilization."
Starsky´s head snapped up at that and he instantly had to cradle it again at the pain. "Don´t do that!"
"Sorry," the blond smiled.
"That means...?" his partner started hopefully from behind his left hand.
"If you prefer alligators and sharks over wolves and squirrels-"
"I LOVE alligators, and sharks are the cutest things in the world."
Hutch grinned, but tried to hide it behind a sigh. "Well, if that´s what you want, buddy."
A crooked smile crossed Starsky´s lips as he settled back against the headrest again with a happy sigh. "Hey blintz?"
"Yeah?"
"Remind me to hug you after I´ve kicked your ass."
"Will do," Hutch promised and smiled warmly when finding Starsky had already drifted off to sleep.
THE END
Enjoy.
___________________________
EERIE, CALIFORNIA
by wuemsel
PART 2
It had stopped raining.
And it was dark.
Even after he´d finally managed to lift his eyelids that were obviously weighted down with stones, it was still dark. Not as dark as before, though, what with a full moon beaming like a pale sun high above his head, but surely too dark enough for his liking.
He gave a tiny moan just to hear his own voice, then started to get an update of his increasingly worsening situation.
The last thing he remembered was hanging from a tree in a net trap, soaked, cold, shivering, bleeding, probably concussed, and beyond anger.
NOW he wasn´t hanging anymore, but lying on the cold, muddy ground in a very small puddle, STILL cold, STILL soaked, STILL shivering, bleeding more than before and as far as he could tell his concussion had been promoted from a possibility to a fact.
His whole body felt like he´d been run over by a truck. The slightest movement of his head presented him with enough pain to almost knock him out again, and on top of everything he´d landed with his right arm somehow tangled behind his back.
He didn´t need to check to find out that it was broken, along with the wrist and at least three fingers.
He groaned a little louder when he moved his legs and feet to check for further injuries. But the relief that followed the result was short-lived, because as he became more alert he suddenly noticed the now slack ropes that lay on his face, chest, legs.
He blinked in confusion and despite the agony in his head, stretched his neck backwards just a tad.
"Uhhhc´mon," he pleaded with no one in particular, his voice raspy and in the dark stillness too loud for his sensitive ears, so that he settled for a strained whisper, adding: "This is NOT happening. Please."
He was still caught in the net.
And now that he took a closer look at it he saw that not only had he hit his head when hitting the ground, but the branch the net had been attached to, had also fallen on him, hitting his forehead.
He blinked again and felt sticky crusted blood at the corner of his left eye. The whole left side of his face felt like it was on fire, and a sudden dizziness reminded him of not moving NOR blinking too much.
But other than his head and arm, he seemed okay.
Cold, shivering, but all his ribs were still intact, he could breathe, and he was only slightly nauseous as long as he didn´t try to move.
'Could be worse,' he thought grimly, arching his quivering, surely bluish lips to a wry smile.
When even that hurt, he winced and rolled his eyes.
'Oh yeah, could be MUCH worse! I could be in Miami in a warm, comfortable bed. Gee, how much FUN I´d miss then! How much ADVENTURE!!!'
A sudden noise next to him startled him enough to flinch and wince at the pain that it stirred. He couldn´t move his head to the direction the noise had come from, and cold sweat quickly mixed with still drying blood on his forehead.
'This is great. This is TERRIFIC! I´m not only hurt, nooo, I´m already trussed up. A Starsky-Burger To Go, already wrapped up.'
Somewhere over his own rambling voice in his head he heard his rational cop-voice wondering if Hutch would really chose a forest that inhabited wolves for their vacation.
He was known to not care about bears and rattlesnakes...
'If I´m gonna die as a midnight snack here, I swear I´ll return to haunt the Blintz residence. I swear I´ll-'
The returning of the noise, brushing sounds, like something moving through the bushes, cut off his frantic thoughts.
He swallowed dryly, trying to look behind him in panic, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot through his head and threatened to cover his whole line of vision with small, blinking stars.
And then there was a new sound, a small cry or growl, much like a cats, that mixed with the other one still seemingly coming nearer.
"Hu-Hutch?"
To hoarsely whisper his partner´s name was a pure Starsky-reflex, and when he felt the first touch of a strange paw or claw in his hair, he couldn´t help let out a fear-filled scream.
"HUUUUUUTCH!!!"
His own voice rang in his ears painfully, and the burning agony behind his eyes almost sent him over the edge of consciousness again.
It was only the faint feeling of something jumping from his head onto his chest that made him snap open his eyes in horror and--freeze wide-eyed.
Tiny chocolate eyes blinked only inches from his face, an equally tiny nose quivered while sniffling at his own, much larger one.
The squirrel lifted one small paw as if to pat the man´s cheek, but stopped and jumped back a little, so that it now sat on Starsky´s belly with its feet tangled in the ropes of the net.
The detective let out a breath he hadn´t knew he´d held and laughed slightly out of pure relief.
"Y-Ya scared the hell outta me, you know that?!"
The animal didn´t respond, but didn´t flee at thesound of his voice either. It seemed to be content where it was.
Starsky blinked in surprise. "Guess I´m cozier than I thought. First birdie, then you...Maybe I oughta think about a career change, huh? Animal Perch."
The squirrel tilted its fuzzy head to one side.
"I´m Dave," Starsky introduced himself politely and moved his head an inch when the squirrel shifted its position on his chest. It came down to its four paws and seemed to inspect the ropes stretched over Starsky´s still damp and torn shirt.
The detective frowned, then raised his brows in disbelief when he suddenly saw the small animal starting to gnaw at the thick material.
"Who are you, Lassie?" he asked with a surprised, happy chuckle.
The squirrel´s head snapped up at the sudden jerking movement of his chest, squealed in obvious panic and jumped away. Only it tangled its feet in a hole in the ropes it had been standing in, and fell, its feet practically tied up now.
Starsky watched the brief scene with wide-eyed bewilderment, then--at the sight of the panicked animal now tied to his chest--burst into laughter.
"No," he gasped, his vision swimming from the jerking movements of his head. "NOT Lassie. Definitely NOT Lassie!"
****
The kid might be stupid, but he definitely knew how to explain a path.
Hutch didn´t have to look twice to know exactly which tree the one that "looks like the Marshmallow Man" was, where he had to park the Torino at the side of the road and enter the dark forest.
The freezing cold that met him once he´d stepped out of the car chilled him not only physically, but it also added to the gnawing fear and dread that had built up inside him ever since he´d left the Diner From Hell to search for Starsky.
The concrete of the street still glittered damply in the moonlight, and Hutch had no doubt the ground in the forest would be muddy, soaked, full of splinters, not to mention animals--in short: just PERFECT for barefoot hikes.
On top of all that, Starsky was not what one could have called wilderness-proof. He was easy to scare, easy to panic and easy to get into trouble. Especially when he was cold, hungry and cranky.
Bracing himself with a deep, calming breath, the blond detective gathered together what he´d take with him on his search, his and Starsky´s sleeping-bags, pullovers and socks, candy bars, some water and a flashlight.
His backpack was a bit heavy when he´d gotten everything in and attached to it, but there was no other way. He seriously doubted finding Starsky in a well enough condition to hike back to the car immediately, and there was no way he would place a foot inside the dark, scary, treeish unknown without some stuff.
Humming "Be Prepared" to himself, he entered the forest. After the first row of trees, civilization was nowhere to be seen.
It seemed as if he couldn´t even see the road anymore when he turned around, though he knew that it was just because of the darkness, but still he had to admit that it was one of the most scary bunch of trees he´d ever seen.
While slowly making his way through the thick, hindering fauna, he wondered if even if they had not run into trouble beforehand, their vacation there would have been a success.
Or as long as he´d planned it to be.
He could even hear Starsky´s whispered admission of panic in his head. "Hutch, d´you hear that? You think there´re wolves in here? Or maybe bears? Mountain lions?"
"Yeah," he´d have answered sleepily, "Big Foot, buddy. Say hello from me."
The sickening concern increased at his imagination, and he quickened his steps, willing the path to be clearer, easier to follow.
'I´m coming, buddy. I´m coming. And I promise you can yell at me all you like as long as you´re all right. Please just be all right, Starsk.'
****
"Hey Goofy," Starsky whispered, frowning confusedly at how sleepy, how weak his own voice sounded. He didn´t feel sleepy.
Well, not much.
"D´you...d´you know wh-what time it is?"
The squirrel didn´t even stir. It had started to play possum when finding out it couldn´t free itself from its bounds. It just lay flat on Starsky´s chest, snuggled up on the freezing body underneath its own as if seeking warmth and comfort from it.
Yet both were nothing Starsky could offer at the moment. Though he´d stopped to actually feel the cold what felt like hours ago, his violent, uncontrollable trembling left no doubt about how cold he actually was.
It was becoming hard to keep his eyes open, to concentrate on the sounds of the forest. He´d started to play Twenty Questions with Goofy, but had stopped when talking had become too exhausting.
As soon as he´d realized he would drift off when he just lay there, though, he´d started to talk to the squirrel again. Lucky Goofy surely could show off with all his knowledge in front of the other squirrels now.
"Hey, y-you better write this down, Goof," Starsky advised his small pal as he explained to him the perfect burrito.
"I mean, you don´t wanna tree-jump for hours to the nearest burrito stand and then forget the important things, right?"
Goofy didn´t answer. Starsky took that as agreement.
"Right," he repeated and had to cough hoarsely. His throat was becoming raw, and he was so thirsty it hurt.
"B-but we just t-talk about me. H-how `bout you, buddy, hm? How long you´ve been li-living here? Huh?"
Lifting his head just a bit, the detective looked at the animal´s fur in the dim moonlight. He had to squeeze his eyes shut briefly at the pain that shot like a knife through his head at that.
"Ow, sh-shouldn´t d-do that," he muttered and lay back down, blinking up at the stars. "How´s the leg, Goof?"
When there was no response, he sighed. "H-hey, you´re not drifting off on me here, huh? Huh?" His own eyes slid shut without him even noting. "I-it´s n-not good to sleep with a concussion, y-ya know. Not good. `specially not when you´re cold. When you´re cold, ya get tired, but you need to stay awake. Hutch told me that the...the other time we were camping. He´s really into this stuff, ya know."
He sighed and rolled his eyes, only then realizing they were closed. He opened them with a great deal of effort and blinked a few times.
"Me, I don´t like camping. I mean, hey, no offense, kid, but your forest is a mess. It stinks. And it´s got mud all over it, d´you notice that? It´s disgusting. N-not to mention there are meeeaaaan folks in those places, and I´m not talking dumb clumsy squirrels here."
He coughed again, the ruttling enough to make the squirrel stir and shift its position. Its fur brushed against Starsky´s left hand resting on his chest, and he slowly started to stroke one finger over the animal´s back.
The fur was soft, but cold. Starsky could barely feel the touch. He knew he was too tired to be scared by that, yet a small frown of distress crawled over his blood-crusted forehead.
"I-I don´t know why he likes camping so much. I think it´s dumb. Why live in a muddy, dirty, stinking animal´s restroom with no food when there are OTHER places on this planet? D´you get it?"
He gave a pause for emphasis and to gather a bit more strength, before continuing.
"You know, Goofy-boy, I didn´t really mean to tell you this, but I get the feeling you´re ready to take this now: where I come from you can buy nuts in bags. I´m not kidding you. I´ve never had to search for food in my li...Well, as long as I´m not on any camping trip with Hutch, I mean. Getting jealous already? `Kay here´s the real burner: you can get `em with salt. Or roasted. Or both. Yeah, I know. You understand what I´m talking about, right? Civilization rules."
His eyes closed again.
"I tell you what, Goof. When Hutch comes to get us outta here, I´m taking you with me to Miami. What´re ya say, partner? Huh?" Starsky asked, his speech so slurred Goofy wouldn´t have understood it even if he could have.
'Don´t fall asleep, Davey. C´mon, you don´t want to fall asleep. You want to keep talking to the squirrel. Keep talking to the squirrel.'
But the words wouldn´t come. His finger stopped moving, though he didn´t notice it.
'Cold. `S too cold, Hutch. Hurry.'
****
'Twenty minutes my foot!' Hutch thought angrily and kicked away a large soaked bush that lay flat in the mud, making the ground even slipperier than it already was.
It had been half an hour since he´d started his late night hiking tour, and still no sign of Starsky.
'What d´you think, Hutchinson? That he´d just lay here, waiting for you?! Of course he´d try for a way out.'
He had to stop to clear the path again, and secretly welcomed the opportunity to stop and catch his breath
for a second.
'Right, and OF COURSE he´d chose the WRONG way!' he added in his thoughts. 'Starsky´s Law.'
By now he was pretty sure he´d reached a new level on his worrymeter. Now that he´d seen and more importantly FELT the ground, he didn´t want to imagine what it could do to bare feet. Besides, it seemed it had gotten even colder, and the sounds of animals in the distance did nothing to calm him either.
Starsky could fight and beat an armed man twice his size and weight without any fear, but in this environment he was the most helpless creature around. The man was even scared of mice, and though he´d spent numerous camping trips with Hutch by now he still believed in throwing something, no matter which animal was about to attack him.
Having won yet another fight with hindering branches having fallen off trees and onto the ground, Hutch suddenly froze in his steps, looking ahead with a frown.
He carefully lifted the flashlight off the ground before him to get a clearer look at what lay before him.
A rather long, strangely white squared thing lay absolutely still under a large tree, a big branch next to it, that seemed somehow connected to the white material.
Hutch knew that it was no animal, still he couldn´t help tensing up instinctively. It was only when he´d taken another extremely careful step that realization suddenly hit him, and he gasped.
Traps. Of course. Wendy had told him about Tim´s father being a trapper. A net trap had fallen off a tree. And the reason that it had fallen off a tree was--
"Starsk!"
The blond was next to his partner in a second, frantically brushing his fingers against too cold skin.
Starsky stirred beneath warm fingers that searched for a pulse, making it clear that that wasn´t necessary, and Hutch sighed with relief.
"Starsky. Buddy, it´s me. Can you open your eyes for me? Starsk?"
His partner´s head lolled to the side Hutch´s voice came from, but it was in slow-motion, and his eyes remained closed, his bluish lips slightly parted, but no words came out.
"C´mon, babe, wake up, you gotta--" Hutch encouraged his friend, already rummaging through his backpack, but stopped when he saw the small fuzzy ball resting on Starsky´s chest, seemingly caught in a cold, cramped hand.
"Hey you," Hutch greeted the squirrel and reached out to for it.
With a startled moan, that was planned as a "no" but didn´t quite make it, Starsky jerked away from Hutch´s hand. His eyes snapped open wildly and he accidentally rolled off his right arm just an inch, but that was enough to make him whimper in pain.
Hutch quickly drew his hands away, holding them in front of his chest. "Hey, hey, hey, easy, buddy, easy. I´m not gonna hurt the squirrel, okay? Starsk? You with me now?"
"Hu-Hutch?" Starsky asked hoarsely, blinking wildly against the agony that now ran freely through his broken bones.
"Yeah, it´s me, buddy. It´s okay. I got you now."
"Wh-what took you so long?"
Hutch smiled wryly at the familiar line. "Had to get the Coke back first," he joked and reached out for the squirrel again that had woken up from its lethargic state and was struggling in Starsky´s grip now.
"Can you let go off the poor thing, Starsk?"
"I would," Starsky replied weakly. "B-but...can´t move my hand."
"Okay," Hutch soothed. "It´s all right. Let me try." Gently, he unclenched Starsky´s fingers. Goofy trembled underneath the hold.
"That hurt, buddy?" Hutch asked and when he got no answer turned to look at his shivering friend worriedly. "Starsk?"
"Yeah, wha...Y-you talkin´ ta me?"
"No, Gordo, to the squirrel, of course."
"Okay," Starsky breathed weakly.
Hutch rolled his eyes, a feeble gesture to wipe away his concern and, since Starsky didn´t utter any sounds indicating it did hurt, unclenched the last finger.
"Okay, boy, go," he told the squirrel.
"He´s caught," Starsky informed him with his sleep-thick voice. "In...in the net. Tried to get me out. Watched too much Lassie..."
"I bet," Hutch muttered. He´d already started to fumble with the ropes wrapped around the struggling squirrel´s leg.
The moment they came off, the animal jumped away from the touch, turned and ran away.
"Was nice meeting you too, Goof!" Starsky called after it as loudly as he could, then winced. "Ow, my head."
"Glad to see you already made friends here," Hutch said, softly probing at the swollen and bloody left side of Starsky´s face, while with the other hand searching for the pocket knife in his backpack. "That way we know where to go when we come back for our vaca--"
"Will you please get me out of here so I can kick your ass?!"
"Just a sec."
It didn´t take long to get Starsky out of the net, though he could barely move without Hutch´s help. He was so cold he had stopped shivering, but now that Hutch quickly massaged his limp fingers, the feeling returned, and they started to hurt.
"Okay, buddy, let´s get you into something warm, and then I´ll have a look at your feet."
A weak hand brushed against the front of Hutch´s shirt without accomplishing the task of grabbing it. "D-did you find my sh-shoes?"
"Sure, buddy," Hutch smiled and patted Starsky´s shoulder. "Got them with me."
"Okay," Starsky sighed and lay back, his eyes closing. "`M gonna kill that kid."
Hutch bit his lip and swallowed the reply that came to his mind while he struggled to get Starsky´s arms into the sleeves of a large, thick pullover he´d brought along.
"There you go. Feel better already?"
"Hm-mm. Tired," Starsky answered.
No, Starsky. Not yet, okay? Buddy? Hey, look at me," Hutch urged, gently slapping Starsky´s cheeks that quickly become flushed.
The blond sighed inwardly. He doubted there was any way his partner would get out of this without getting sick. Starsky was quick at running high fevers, and walking, not to mention lying in ice cold puddles for hours was on top of the lists of things he didn´t need.
"Yeah, `m still here," Starsky mumbled, blinking his eyes open. "Still...here. Hutch?"
"Yeah?"
"Never gonna go campin´ `gain."
Hutch chuckled and glanced up from where he´d taken a closer look at Starsky´s scratched feet.
"I didn´t see any animals stealing your car, knocking you out and dragging you in here," he said softly, brushing away a damp stray curl from Starsky´s eyes.
"I bet he was hired by the bear mob or somethin´. They prob´ly hung up that damn trap too."
"Sure, Gordo, sure. Okay, I´m gonna get you into some socks now, and I know it might hurt, but it´s necessary so you´ll warm up faster, okay?"
"Socks´re nice."
"Right," Hutch nodded absentmindedly while trying not to hurt his friend further as he carefully pulled thick woolen socks over his damaged feet.
He then wrapped Starsky in his sleeping bag, using it also as a makeshift restraint for the broken arm, and settled them both leaned against the tree the trap had hung from, with Starsky´s head resting on his shoulder.
"Getting warmer already, buddy?"
"Hm-mm. Tired."
"I know, Starsk. But first I want you to eat this," he held out a candy bar to his dazed friend, "and have something to drink. Then you can sleep a bit. Promise. Okay?"
"Starsky´s finger weakly brushed against the bottle of water, and Hutch helped him to drink a few sips.
"Okay, good. And now eat something, c´mon."
"Uh," Starsky shook his head wearily. "Sick."
"You´re going to be sick?"
"N-no, was...sick," the injured detective mumbled. His strength was fading fast now that he knew he didn´t have to hold out anymore. Hutch was there, and he was safe. All he wanted now was sleep.
"You´re concussed," Hutch nodded concerned, softly brushing away the thick curls on the back of Starsky´s head that were crusted with dried blood.
"Was sick over an anthill," Starsky said in a childlike tone, and Hutch smiled, allowing his partner to slide down to rest his head on his lap.
"Well, I hope they didn´t take it as an attack," he joked. "If you don´t feel up to eating, you don´t have to, babe. Just rest for a bit, before we go back to the car, okay?"
Starsky seemed to be asleep before his eyes closed, and Hutch settled for a long night, holding his friend close and with the free hand gently stroking his head.
****
The sun had barely risen, when Hutch gently shook his partner awake.
It had been a long night just as he´d expected, for not only had he have to wake Starsky every few hours because of his head injuries, but just as he had also expected, his partner had developed a steadily increasing fever in the middle of the night that had left him struggling against Hutch´s hold and squirming in his sleeping bag when he´d started to get too hot.
"Hey buddy, wake up."
"Hmmnhm," Starsky muttered disapprovingly and shifted his position slightly to bury his face in Hutch´s chest.
The blond sighed. "Starsk, wake up, c´mon. We gotta get back to the car and get you to a hospital."
"Hmmmni don´t wanna go to a hospital. I hate hospitals."
"I know," Hutch replied, while he carefully lifted his partner off his lap and zipped open the sleeping-bag. "How´s your arm?"
"Hurts," Starsky muttered, his eyes though open dull and almost covered by too heavy lids.
Hutch sighed again. "And your head?"
Starsky shrugged tiredly.
"Oookay, I think we better try to hurry." He placed a cool hand on his friend´s forehead and grimaced at the apparent heat he felt there.
"Starsk, are you hot or cold?"
Starsky shrugged again. "Tired." A violent shiver followed and almost sent him falling over his side.
Hutch caught him quickly and held him upright while he peeled the rest of the sleeping-bag off him.
"Do you want that candy bar now?"
Starsky shook his head slowly.
"Buddy, you gotta eat."
"Feel sick."
"Doesn´t matter, you still got to eat. I won´t carry you through the woods here."
Grumbling, but just not up to a fight, Starsky finally accepted the offered candy and chewed unenthusiastically, while Hutch packed their things.
"Hey, where´s Goofy?" the smaller man asked after a short while.
"Usually with Mickey."
Starsky frowned. "Who´s Mickey?"
The true confusion in his raspy voice made Hutch stop in tracks and turn to look into feverish blue eyes worriedly. Realizing his partner had meant the squirrel, the blond said: "He left yesterday, don´t you remember?"
"Oh," Starsky mumbled, then raised his brows a bit. "Right. Right. Pity, ya know. I wanted to show him roasted nuts."
"You can bring a bag the next time," Hutch grinned, but quickly rushed over to his partner´s side when he noticed that Starsky was too out of it to keep up the banter.
A seemingly too heavy head lolled against his shoulder when he kneeled next to his friend to help him to his feet.
"Hey, buddy, think you can make it? Truth."
"Sure," Starsky winked, the true Starsky spirit reaching the surface at last, "stop fussing, blintz. Let´s get going before the ants´ army arrives."
Agonizingly slowly and painfully on Starsky´s side, they made their way back through the thick green to the waiting Torino.
"Y-you know," Starsky panted once he was seated in the passenger seat, already half asleep again, "at least you got a night under the stars, right? Camping at its best."
"Oh yeah," Hutch nodded dryly. "And a whole day at Eerie too. Lots of friendly people there."
Starsky opened one eye to glance at his partner. "Are you gonna tell me now how hard YOUR day was?"
"Uh...no."
"Good."
Hutch started the engine and drove off, gazing at his friend from time to time. Though Starsky´s fever hadn´t yet vanished, it hadn´t increased either. They obviously had just made it in time to prevent a more serious infection.
"Starsk?"
"Hm?" the half-sleeping detective mumbled.
"We still got four days off, you know."
As if in slow motion, Starsky´s head rose from the headrest as he blinked unbelievingly at his friend. "You´re not-"
"I´m just saying that with your head and all you surely need some time off somewhere that´s-"
"What d´you want, Hutch, kill me?!" Starsky asked exasperated, throwing his good hand in the air. "D´you know a forest with bear traps or what?! If you don´t want me around anymore, there are easier ways of getting rid of me, you kno...Ow!"
"What?" Hutch asked deeply concerned immediately, looking over at Starsky, who´d grabbed his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Head, head," he whimpered.
"Aw, babe. See," Hutch soothed, reaching over to gently touch Starsky´s shoulder. "That´s exactly what I meant. You deserve this week off. And...you deserve to spend it in civilization."
Starsky´s head snapped up at that and he instantly had to cradle it again at the pain. "Don´t do that!"
"Sorry," the blond smiled.
"That means...?" his partner started hopefully from behind his left hand.
"If you prefer alligators and sharks over wolves and squirrels-"
"I LOVE alligators, and sharks are the cutest things in the world."
Hutch grinned, but tried to hide it behind a sigh. "Well, if that´s what you want, buddy."
A crooked smile crossed Starsky´s lips as he settled back against the headrest again with a happy sigh. "Hey blintz?"
"Yeah?"
"Remind me to hug you after I´ve kicked your ass."
"Will do," Hutch promised and smiled warmly when finding Starsky had already drifted off to sleep.
THE END