"I think we are drawn to dogs because they are the uninhibited creatures we might be if we weren't certain we knew better. They fight for honor at the first challenge, make love with no moral restraint, and they do not for all their marvelous instincts appear to know about death. But being such wonderfully uncomplicated beings, they need us to do their worrying."

George Evans

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate the rain?"

"No, Starsk, I don't think you've mentioned it for the past forty five seconds."

"I hate the rain."

Starsky stood next to Hutch on the line separating rock and forest. He was supporting his taller partner to lesson the trauma to Hutch's broken leg, and Hutch in turn was leaning against him. It felt good.

It had taken Starsky and Hutch almost an hour to strategically remove the stones without causing the whole thing to collapse on them, and since there were only two hands between the both of them. Once daylight had finally broken through and they could escape their stone prison, Starsky had swore he was never going to play Jenga again.

Hutch agreed.

It had already begun drizzling by the time the detectives pushed aside the last large rock. They stood in the dim sunlight as the drizzle started to spot their clothes. The fresh air felt wonderful, even if it was cool and wet. Anything beat being trapped in that claustrophobic, dilapidated cave.

The dog brushed past Starsky and immediately relieved itself on a nearby bush. Hutch chuckled and the motion was felt by Starsky. "Guess he had to go."

Now in the daylight- or what little of it they had in the overcast weather- Starsky could see his partner's injuries more clearly. Fresh rain water was mixing with the dried and clotting blood on Hutch's face, causing the blood to thin and drip from his jaw to his shirt. He leaned on Starsky to avoid setting down his right leg. His jeans were not torn and there was no blood, so Starsky hoped that the break had been clean. Hutch's left arm dangled at his side while his right one was slung over Starsky's shoulders. Starsky's own injured arm was cradled between their bodies, and throbbing in competition with his head.

Starsky found himself looking into Hutch's concerned blue eyes. "You alright?" Hutch asked. "You look awful."

Starsky snorted. "Thanks partner, so do you."

Hutch started to move awkwardly, like he wanted to touch Starsky's throbbing temple, but the motion was currently impossible. "That's a big lump on your head. How's your vision?"

"It's fine."

"How many of me do you see?"

Starsky patted the hand that lay on his shoulder. "There will always be just one of you."

"Starsk, that was really…" Hutch searched for words and when he found them, looked like he would vomit. "Romantic. Knock it off."

"What? I-"

"Please. Just, quit." Hutch squinted towards the sky. "We gotta get a move on. Help me sit down and you can put my shoulder back in position."

Starsky fought against his partner's pull. "Wait a minute, are you sure I can do this?"

"It's easy. You won't feel a thing." Hutch sagged against him, forcing Starsky to ease his friend to the ground. "Just do what I tell you, alright?"

"Don't I always?" Starsky grinned his patented grin and helped Hutch lay on his back. The rain and blood now ran down Hutch's swollen cheek, dripping off his ear into the mud. "You need stitches," he announced.

"We both need a lot of things right now, just do this so we can go," Hutch blinked up at him, his blue eyes watering with what Starsky hoped were raindrops.

"What do I do?"

"Three steps, okay? And no matter what I do, don't stop, got it?"

That worried Starsky. "Got it."

The dog took notice of his guardian's position and hurried to Hutch's side. It plopped on the ground, pressed against Hutch with it's head the blond's chest. Then he stared at Starsky.

"Okay, turn my arm palm-up," Hutch said, keeping his gaze locked on the dog's furry head.

Simple enough. Starsky turned the limp arm and noticed as Hutch flinched. A part of him hurt too. The dog looked very nervous.

"Okay," Hutch ground out. "Bend it ninety degrees at the elbow."

Starsky obeyed, although his arm shook with refusal when the movement elicited a grimace from Hutch.

"Now push my hand to the ground, away from me. Slowly."

Starsky cringed at the phantom pain in his own shoulder. The stress was causing his headache to worsen and he could think of nothing better right now than a long nap in his own bed, away from all this. He began lowering Hutch's cold hand. The blond's eyes were closed now and his face was close to the dog's shoulder, turned away from Starsky. The dog studied Starsky's movements as if this were something they had practiced on together for a long time, and this was the first time Starsky were on his own.

Before Hutch's knuckles touched the mud, there was an audible pop and Starsky gasped and jumped back, shaking the sensation from his hand.

Either Hutch or the dog or both had whimpered. "Thanks," Hutch panted as he finally turned to look at Starsky. "You did great."

"Hey, glad to be of service." Starsky swallowed hard, sure that he would never forget that feeling of Hutch's shoulder sliding back into joint. His own arm was chilled from the rain and driving the ache deep in his bones. "What do you say we get out of here now?"

"Sounds like a plan, partner. Help me up."

Hutch rocked his torso upwards in an attempt to sit up. The dog scrambled to get out of the way as Starsky pulled his friend to his feet. Hutch hopped a bit as he fought to stay off his broken leg and Starsky steadied him. "Why do I always wind up hauling your carcass all over the place?" he joked as they started forward. He needed to lighten the mood after what he had just done.

"As I recall, there are plenty of times I had to help you."

"Well yeah, but you're taller than me, so I have to work harder. Counts as twice."

"Who made up that rule?"

Starsky steadied Hutch as they picked their way through the shrubbery. "I did."

Hutch shook his head as he struggled to carry his own weight. "You can't make up your own rules to this partnership."

"When it's in your best interest I can," Starsky said, wincing as he jostled his broken arm. The pain behind his eyes was starting to make him dizzy and soon he was leaning on Hutch. "You do know where we're going, right?" Starsky swallowed thickly.

"Sure. We're looking for the trail. Are you okay?"

"I'd be a lot better without this headache," Starsky answered honestly.

"Do you wanna sit down?"

Starsky looked at his soaking partner and knew he must look just as bad. The sporadic raindrops did nothing for his mood, or his aches. "We better keep going, to get out of the rain." As unappealing as the thought was right now, continuing their trek would get them to safety that much faster.

"Alright, I think I see the trail up ahead. I'm lucky I didn't let you wander too far off course."

"Yeah." Starsky took a deep breath, hoping to chase away the fog that was creeping into his peripheral vision. He would be no good to Hutch unconscious.

"You're agreeing with me?" Hutch asked incredulously. "Maybe you had better sit down. How many fingers do you see?"

Starsky pushed away the seven-fingered hand. "I'm fine Hutch." He only had to put one foot in front of the other. "Just find the trail and get us back."

The dog was ambling along in front of them, his ears turning back and forth to catch their voices as they spoke. His pace was slow and steady, as if he was accommodating their collaborative progress and at the same time, understanding their destination and the importance of reaching it. Starsky thought that little Gordo might be the smartest dog he'd ever met. The dog had certainly taken a liking to Hutch, but then again, a lot of people did. Even the bad ones.

After an immeasurable amount of time of limping, cursing, tripping and almost falling, Hutch's ugly green tent came into view. It was the most beautiful thing Starsky had ever seen. Well, at least today.

Hutch let out an amused chuckle. "Would ya look at that, it still stands."

"Of course it's still standing, I helped put it up," Starsky replied, shifting under Hutch's increasing weight. With any luck, they would make it to the Torino before Hutch gave out completely.

The dog trotted to the tent and sniffed the perimeter, it's tail held high. When it had circled around to the tent's opening, it froze on point. Starsky watched the hair down the center of it's back rise.

"Uh, Hutch, is it suppose to do that?"

Hutch looked in the direction of Starsky's pointing hand. The dog's lips were raised now, displaying very white and pointed canine teeth. A low growl rumbled from it's chest.

"We got company," Hutch whispered.

"What is it?"

"How should I know- wait. Please tell me you zipped up the tent after you put the cooler inside."

"Uh…"

"Starsky…" Hutch whined. He shifted his weight. "You'd think you've never been camping before."

"What'd I do?"

A second noise rumbled from the tent, this one louder and more menacing. Something big brushed against the fabric, making it bulge for a moment. The detectives stood transfixed as a long dark snout pushed through the tent's opening. The wet, black nose twitched, sniffing the air. The dog snapped his jaws with a click and backed up a step, his head hung low but his eyes defiant.

Hutch hobbled on his good leg, his grip on Starsky tightening. "We should get out of here."

The black bear's massive head came through the tent's opening as it growled at the lightweight dog. A paw the size of a dinner plate soon followed, thumping the wet ground as it stepped out of the tent. Starsky watched as the dog's eyes grew as big as his own and for a second, no one moved.

Starsky had never seen a real bear before and he decided immediately that he never wanted to again. The wild animal must have weighed 500 pounds. It's thick fur and blubber undulated as it moved. It stood almost four feet tall at the shoulder, on all fours. Starsky was afraid to see the animal stand at full height on it's back feet. While it probably wasn't the world's largest bear, it certainly belittled the scrawny dog something terrible. They were no match in any universe.

"What do we do?" Starsky whispered, his vocal chords having decided to hide in his stomach.

"Don't run," Hutch replied absently. His gaze remained fixed on the confrontation before them. Starsky noticed the lines of worry and pain on his partner's forehead.

"Okay." Starsky couldn't breathe at the moment, let alone run.

That still left the all-important question of what to do. Climb a tree? No, bears can climb trees too, and besides, Hutch would never make it with his broken leg. Running was out; they probably wouldn't be able to outrun the bear anyway, even if they weren't injured. What option did that leave? Trying to befriend the beast? Waltzing up to it and asking if it would like a belly rub?

The bear emerged from the tent, snorting and groaning and making all sorts of noises, unaware of it's human audience. The dog backed up carefully, being sure to keep out of striking distance at all times. It looked to Starsky and Hutch. Starsky shrugged and held an index finger in front of his lips. Maybe if the dog kept quiet, the bear would lose interest- or at least not think of the dog as a threat.

The bear sniffed the air. Seemingly unworried about the dog now, the it continued to rummage around the tent. It over turned some supplies, scooted some equipment through the mud with it's nose, and pawed at a zipped backpack. Starsky realized he wasn't breathing and took a deep breath through his nose, expanding his lungs so much they burned. Hutch never moved.

Starsky watched as the bear seemed to lose it's intensity in the search for food. Maybe the bear was full? Starsky dared to hope that they would escape unmarked. They had gotten luck in the cave-in, now they were pressing their luck again. Would the bear really leave without ever seeing them? The dog took a cautious step closer as the bear began wandering away. A smile spread over Starsky's face despite the rain and dropping temperature. He had survived his first encounter with a bear!

A small breeze blew at his back and Starsky felt Hutch shiver. The bear's head snapped up.

"Oh shit."

Starsky didn't know who had said it, and it really didn't matter. The bear worked it's nose, stretching it's neck and reaching high into the air, cataloguing all the scents that were lingering there. It's massive head swung around and burning amber eyes looked directly at Starsky. He had never felt so naked.

The animal bellowed, bearing fangs larger than any Starsky had ever had nightmares of. His stomach folded in on itself and his whole being ached with a paralyzing fear. The rest of the world seemed to drop away and Starsky understood what a true phobia was. 'This is the end. I'm going to die.'

"…still, Starsk, just don't move. He'll go away."

Hutch was talking, using that soothing voice that had always calmed people before, but Starsky's muscles refused to unclench. He was staring his death right in the eyes and couldn't move. He barely realized his strong grip on Hutch was tightening further with every slow, dramatic, echoing step the bear took. The bear stretched it's neck and bellowed again, it's loud voice carrying through the forest and spurring the birds into flight. Starsky could smell it's rotten breath and musty pelt.

The monstrous animal was merely fifteen feet away when the dog made his presence known. It trotted up behind the bear, barking so furiously that frothy drops of spit flew into the air, then he darted forward and actually nipped the bear's heel before scurrying away.

Starsky blinked.

The bear turned instantly and it's hide rippled with the sudden movement. Giant paws slapped the ground as it charged the dog. Mud splattered and water dripped from the animal's black fur. The dog tucked it's tail and ran, evading the long and pointed claws that swiped at it.

Hutch swallowed audibly as one does when a trance is broken. "Now would be a good time to run," he breathed.

Starsky flinched then pulled his shoes from the thick mud beneath his feet. The partners turned awkwardly, arms intertwined and their movements made clumsy with dire haste. Hutch hopped alongside Starsky as they moved away from the angry noises at the campsite and into the thick forest.

"Where are we going?" Starsky panted, fighting to keep his partner upright.

"We'll circle around and get back to the car. Just keep moving, and don't look back."

There was a sharp yelp from the dog and Hutch stumbled, seemingly not wanting to heed his own orders. "Come on," Starsky encouraged as Hutch clung to him. "Don't stop. I don't wanna be bear food."

The sounds of the fight dulled with each frantic step they took. "Gordo doesn't deserve to be bear food either," Hutch said, pulling against Starsky as he tried to stop.

Starsky gave Hutch a gentle pull. "He made a choice," Starsky replied, and navigated them over a fallen tree. "He did it for us." 'For you,' Starsky added silently. "Don't let his death be in vain," he said quietly.

Starsky felt Hutch breathe deeper, but whether it was from sadness or exertion, he didn't want to know. He continued using a little extra force whenever Hutch would try to turn back, softly murmuring encouragement. Really, what kind of condolences do you offer when a dog dies?

The sky had drawn darker now and the shadows were stretching to join the night. The bear's angry cries were out of range now. Starsky felt a slight remorse for the shaggy dog who had given it's life for the detectives. Hutch would be depressed for a while, with good reason, and trying to cheer up the blond was never an easy task. Starsky marveled how in such a short time, Gordo had become special to Hutch, had become a true companion. The dog seemed to have chosen Hutch as it's leader- it's protector, and Hutch played the part well. Another dog probably wouldn't have traded it's life for theirs- for Hutch.

At that moment, the blond interrupted Starsky's musing. "Slow down," Hutch gasped. "I think we're safe." When they stumbled to a stop, Hutch doubled over and struggled for breath.

Starsky's head failed to take notice that his body had stopped moving. His vision swirled around him and Starsky tilted to the side, worrying for himself as much as his friend. "We can't be very far from the car," he said, swallowing and pushing his sickness aside. He righted himself against Hutch. "Think you can make it?"

"I'm fine," Hutch replied flippantly. His breathing was beginning to even out. "Just great."

Starsky squinted and tried to figure out which of the double visions was the real Hutch. "How's the leg?"

"How's your head?"

Starsky shrugged. "Just great."

"I'm over here."

Starsky blinked and focused on the Hutch closest to him. The blond was soaking wet and wincing, but the cut on his cheek seemed to have finally stopped bleeding. The heavy, wet denim hung low on Hutch's lean frame, making his partner seem all the more fragile. Starsky blinked away the multiplying images. Hutch was breathing normally now, if just a little hard. "Ready to move again?"

Hutch nodded and reached for Starsky. "Let's go."

Together, arm in arm, they trudged forward. All their effort and pain and loss would pay off once they reached the Torino. It was their savior- their freedom, and it waited patiently and faithfully only a quarter of a mile away.

Their nightmare was almost over.