Hi again All,

Normally, when I'm done writing a story, I'm done. No amount of asking will change my mind. However, there were a few lingering questions in this one, so I'm adding a chapter. I hope that this takes care of most of your questions. I am very flattered that so many of you enjoyed this story so much that you wanted more of it. –blush-

FYI's- At work, I need to write concisely, but I'm trying to learn to write… er… lengthier? As for this chapter, I'm sure you will let me know if I got it right, or not… That's what I love about you guys –grin-

Special thanks to Kreek, you always give me the best advice buddy! You, of course, were correct again - no surprise there! Hugs!

Joy Ride – Epilog

"I wish we coulda convinced Jake to go with us to get pizza" Starsky watched the troubled teen walk away from the hospital parking lot. Poor kid, he was at a crossroad in his life and no clear directions on how to find the right path, he had, for the moment, stumbled onto the right path. It had cost the kid dearly, the life of his best friend.

Starsky shook his head at the retreating figure. The kid had come through for him and for that he was grateful. Some people might not understand why he had chosen to forgive Jake. But for him, it was easy. When it came down to it, the boy did the right thing. A little late… almost too late… but he had come through just the same.

Add in the fact that Jake was not known as an upstanding citizen, that he was far more likely to be known for ditching school and had one petty theft charge on the books. Ashley Ann Adams, on the other hand, had no such charges and was a straight 'A' student who was known to visit the elderly and donate her time to other charitable causes. For now, it was Jake's word against Ashley's. The word of a pretty, young, rich, helpful girl or a not so handsome, poor, thieving boy, it was an easy guess which one the jury would believe.

The district attorney would have to go with the strongest case. With any possible evidence burned away in the truck fire and with Starsky unable to remember anything about the accident or what had happened to him until he had been found, meant that there was no real way to prove who had been in the stolen the truck. Only Jake and Mel had called the hotline and Jake had known where Starsky was buried, proof that he was aware of the crime, if not guilty of committing it.

Starsky had decided to wait to press any possible charges of his hit and run and attempted murder. He had some time yet to do that and perhaps, given a little time, he might recall more events of that day, hopefully before the statute of limitations ran out.

But, in the case against Ashley for murdering Mel, she had made a mistake… she had left one fingerprint on Mel's pop can, that single fingerprint was the only one on the can. It seemed unlikely that Mel had drunk the poison then wiped the can clean of prints before dying. Why would someone who was supposedly committing suicide to that? If she was convicted of murdering Mel, then the case against the hit and run and attempted murder of Starsky would stand a better chance in court. Then Jake's word against her's would vastly improve. Time would tell.

"Starsk, ya know, I don't like you leaving the hospital so soon" The blondderailed Starsky's train of thought.

"I told ya Hutch, I just couldn't stay there one more day. Besides, the doc had no objections as long as I take it easy" he grinned at the blond as he adjusted his aching left leg into a more comfortable position, he would need his pain meds soon.

"Ha! You, taking it easy…" Hutch negotiated evening traffic with extra care; he didn't want anything to happen to his friend on the trip home. "That's an oxymoron, Starsk"

Starsky rolled his eyes at the blond "You've been reading Reader's Digest's 'Ways to Colorful Speech' section again, haven't ya?"

Hutch laughed "Well, I had to do something while you were sleeping" the thought of watching his friend recovering in the days after exhuming him made the blond break into a cold sweat. The word 'exhuming' positively made his flesh crawl.

Starsky was watching out the window and did not notice the change in his friend. "Well, I will, you just watch me… I'll be fine, you'll see" Starsky looked out the window at the setting sun. "Look at that view… it's just beautiful" he exhaled and closed his eyes. They were right, a near death experience could make one stop and smell the roses, or in this case, the smog. But it was ocean-scented smog. He grinned to himself.

Hutch looked worriedly at his friend. He still was having trouble dealing with what had happened to Starsky and how he had found him. It made him want to vomit just thinking about it. And now he was commenting on the beauty of the day? Something was definitely wrong. "Are you okay? Anythingwrong?"

Starsky snorted "Ya keep askin' me that and I keep tellin' you, I'm fine"

"Starsky… how can you be FINE? You were BURIED ALIVE!" Hutch pounded the steering wheel with his hand.

"Pull over" was the quiet reply.

"What?" Hutch peered over at the brunet, trying to determine what might be paining him… his cracked ribs? Concussion? Broken arm? Was it the torn ligaments in his knee? Or perhaps it was the pressure sores that had developed once Starsky had been buried and unable to change positions for days…

Hutch worriedly went back over the list of things that the doctor had told him to watch for in his friend. Had he missed any signs or symptoms? 'I just knew leaving the hospital early was wrong but nooo; Starsky wouldn't listen to me. Just had to have things his way, regardless of the consequences…'

"I said PULL OVER" Louder, firmer

"There IS something wrong! I knew it! I told you it was too soon, that's IT!… It's back to the hospital for you!" Hutch hit the turn signal and watched for traffic as he prepared to pull a u-turn and head back the way they had come.

Starsky looked around and noticed that they were three blocks from Venice Place, so… Hutch wasn't taking him out for pizza… he would holler at the blond about that later, right now he had a more important thing to deal with, and that was one very upset partner.

"Hutch, just take me to your apartment, I don't need to go back to the hospital and at any rate, you're too upset to get me there safely. I'm still recovering from the last auto accident I was in" He lightened his tone to calm the blond.

It was obvious that Hutch was suffering and Starsky knew that he had to deal with the situation now. That was one of the reasons he wanted out of the hospital, that and get some REAL food and to get some real sleep. I mean, how did they ever expect you to recover from anything when they woke you up all the time? Couple that with not being in a familiar place and in pain…it was impossible to recover there. The hospital had been a far too public place for such a private conversation. You never knew who would pop in for a visit. Nope, this had to be done somewhere where no interruptions were possible.

Hutch looked worriedly at Starsky "Are you sure? I mean, really sure that you don't want to go back?"

"Positive, just get me to your place" with the minor disaster averted, Starsky gave some thought on how to deal with Hutch and his problem.

XXXX

Maneuvering up the steps to Hutch's apartment was painful, but now it was over. The sweat rolled down Starsky's face as he leaned more on Hutch for support. His whole left side was ablaze with pain. He gritted his teeth, determined not to let it show.

Hutch, aware of the agony his friend was not voicing, eased the brunet into his apartment and straight to his bed "Just a little further… I knew it was too soon-"

Starsky cut him off "If you say 'I told you so' one more time… I'm gonna spit on ya" the words were issued through clenched teeth.

"Spit? What are you? A camel?" Hutch smiled gently at his hurting friend.

"Nope, it's just that everything on my left side hurts, so I can't risk injuring my right hand… so spitting is the only weapon I've got left to use" He waggled his eyebrows at the blond.

Hutch snorted then eased Starsky into bed and helped him get comfortable, he started to move away to get a washcloth to get rid of the sweat that had accumulated on his friend's face when Starsky grabbed his hand. Hutch looked at the hand and its still visibly damaged fingernails. The finger that was missing its nail drew his attention the most. God… that had to have hurt… he swallowed hard.

"Hutch?" Starsky knew it was time to talk as he watched the blood drain out of the blond's face. "Hutch?" he tugged gently on the long-fingered hand.

"What?" the blond couldn't tear his eyes off of the damaged hand, once again seeing it as he had that day when he had dug his friend out of his make-shift grave. The dirt, blood, the fever induced heat and sweat that had covered it… he could remember the feel of it and the smell… Oh God, the smell… it filled his nostrils even now.

"Hutch? Sit down" Starsky released Hutch's hand and patted the bed next to him "Sit before you fall down, please?"

The blond continued to stare, unblinking at his hand. He felt Starsky give it a squeeze. He blinked and made eye contact "Did you say something?"

Starsky merely patted the bed again with his right hand and sighed when the blond joined him. They sat, silently, shoulder to shoulder for several minutes. Where to begin? "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Hutch threw a quizzical look to his left at the tired and hurting detective beside him.

"Why didn't you tell me how much this really has been bothering you?"

Starsky slid slightly to his right and touched shoulders with him, all the while continuing to look into his eyes. Hutch mentally scrambled to hide his concerns.

"Starsk, you're talking in riddles, what are you asking me?" He tried to hold eye contact but failed under the intense gaze of midnight blue eyes. Even after two weeks, the left one had some remaining discoloration from the bruise that had once colored the whole socket. He felt his heart twist in his chest. He remembered that it had been so swollen that his friend could hardly see out of it for days.

Starsky eased his right arm over Hutch's shoulder "You didn't tell me how much finding me that way… bothered you… so talk to me… tell me"

Hutch knew what Starsky was doing now… he should have known better than to try to hide his worries for so long. Starsky always caught on and rarely let go when he was onto something that Hutch was trying to hide. "D-do you remember anything?"

The dark head shook in a negative fashion "I've told you before, no. The last thing I clearly remember before the accident was that I was taking a picture of my car. My next somewhat clear memory was that I was in a lot of pain and staring up at your face… I remember trees, the smell of the pines, tarp and dirt. That's all. The doc said I may never remember due to my head injury and from the look on your face, I don't think I wanna remember. But you do remember and it's really bothering you. You have circles under your eyes, you're not sleeping and you have lost a some weight"

"If I were a girl, I would be happy about the last part" Hutch smiled weakly.

"And the other part?" Starsky patted Hutch's right arm lightly and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

"I… don't wanna talk about it" He looked away, out the window and to his plants.

"Too bad, spill it" implacable.

"no" the word was whispered and he looked anywhere but at his friend, almost frantic to keep away from the dark blue eyes that would make him confess his fears.

"Tell me what happened. Maybe it'll jog my memory" Starsky pinned him with a stern gaze.

"Good God! I don't want you to remember THAT! It was horrible… they buried you! I-I h-had to dig-dig you out of your GRAVE!" Hutch's breath came in pants and he fought to control his stutter. It was a dead giveaway to how much something bothered him. And this whole thing had bothered him a great deal. He scrunched his eyelids down tight and much to his embarrassment, felt moisture collecting behind them.

Starsky closed his own eyes for a moment. He had to hear what had happened, he had to know for himself, but mostly he had to hear because Hutch had to get it off his chest. "Go on, tell me"

Hutch sat for a moment, quietly trying to control himself and trying to organize his thoughts "I don't know where to begin… I-I…" He faltered, but the words wouldn't come. He closed his eyes again.

"You told me that Melvin Wagner had called you first, start there"

He felt Starsky lean a little more into him and then felt his friend eased his right arm from around his shoulder and he watched as Starsky adjusted his left arm into a more comfortable position. He closed his eyes to the pain that the sight gave him. Poor Starsk, not admitting to how much pain he was actually in, it was typical of Starsky, when he hurt a little, he was such a baby about it. When he hurt a lot… nothing could make him talk about it.

Hutch then leaned back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling for a long moment. The feelings he had felt when he had gotten that call rushed back over him "It was the worst day in my life… w-when he t-told me that he… that he… thought that they had b-buried you alive… and the boy was crying so hard… I c-couldn't understand him… I didn't WANT to understand him. God! The thought that you had not only been injured… but that you had suffocated... that you were b-buried ALIVE! As soon as I got done with the call, I got out of the squad room and puked in a garbage can. I-I could just p-picture you, gasping for air… begging for h-help and dieing all alone…in… in a cold, unmarked, grave…"

Tears leaked out of the corners of Hutch's eyes and ran down the sides of his face and into his hair. "Then I got mad… I wanted to find that kid and shake him silly, knock some sense into… or out of him… Starsk, I think I woulda actually hurt that boy, if I'd a found him b-before… you know" he flipped a hand in a helpless gesture.

"Yeah, I know… go on babe" Starsky thumbed a tear off of Hutch's face "But knowing you, I don't think you would'vereally hurt him… you woulda scared the crap outta him though, you're a scary guy when you're angry… ahhh… buy your eyes get sooo beau-ti-ful" Starsky's kidding lightened the mood a bit.

Hutch snorted, it was a watery, half-hearted snort. "Then, as we left the area, we got called back to investigate a teenage boy's death… my heart crashed and I had the feeling that I might never f-find your bo-… find you"

Starsky reach back over the blond's shoulders and gave him a one-armed hug. "S'okay, buddy… s'okay…"

"NO DAMMIT! It's NOT okay! It's NOT" he leaned away "Those stupid brats ran you over and BURIED you! ALIVE!" He palmed away the tears that streamed off his face as his anger rose. "They weren't gonna tell anyone…" he clenched his teeth and could hear them grind together.

"Two of them told-" Starsky wasn't surprised when Hutch cut him off. He wanted Hutch to get all of his feeling out into the open, confront them, so he could move on and so that he could heal. Hutch was as much a victim of this mess as he was. But he was the only one that seemed to recognize it.

"Yeah! One out of guilt because he heard about rigor mortis and realized you weren't DEAD when they b-buried you… the other did it for revenge! Revenge! A totally selfish motive-"

"Right, selfish and we've never done that ourselves? Ever? Hmmm?" The curly haired detective nudged his friend and gave him a look that said 'we've done that and you know it'

Hutch shifted agitatedly for a moment, scanning the room again.

"Tell me about how you found me"

So, Starsky wanted details. He would have a need to fill in the blanks. Hutch recalled how he had mentioned Jake calling and following Jake's directions to Starsky's gravesite. It still felt odd to say that. This was the part he was avoiding. This was the part that was giving him trouble. How does one go about tell their best friend how they found their grave and dug them out? And still have their friend around to hear the tale?

"I don't wanna talk about this any more" Hutch sat up and got off the bed. He walked away and ran fingers through his hair. He could once more smell the dirt, blood and pine scent. He paced restlessly.

He felt Starsky watching him while he paced like a caged animal.

"Hutch?"

The blond stopped pacing and looked over at his friend, propped up in bed, watching him. "I… I… can't" he turned away. Shoulders hunched, head down "I… just… can't" Hutch could feel Starsky watching him as he struggled with himself for a while, then Starsky spoke.

"Why not? Did you do something wrong?"

He hunched his shoulders some more "no" had he missed something? He quickly went over the scene in his head and then Starsky interrupted his thoughts with another question.

"Did you fail in some way?"

"No… yes…" Hutch choked out the response, it was whispered and he felt his hands burying themselves in pockets, hiding. Like he wanted to hide.

"Which is it? Yes or no?"

Hutch felt a little angry and he lifted his shoulders a bit and squared them "You're not lettin' this go, are you?" his hands clenched into fists in his pockets.

"Nope"

"Why do you want to hear this? You don't need to know… know how… h-how…" His shoulders slumped again.

"Yes, I do need to know"

"Why?" 'Why do you want to know the horror that you went though? Why, Starsky?'

"Because it's bothering you. If it bothers you, it bothers me… spill it"

Hutch slowly turned around and dipped his head, lifting his brows in a concerned and sorry manner. The brunet had nailed him with that one.

Starsky patted the bed.

Hutch shook his head 'no' and began pacing the room again when he heard a small noise behind him, he turned in time to see Starsky attempting to get out of bed, the brunet gritted his teeth and started to ease his way across the bed to the edge.

"Hey! What do you think your doing?" The blond detective hurried to the bedside.

"Coming to you"

"Why?" Hutch paused in confusion.

"You came for me when I needed you, you need me so…" The words hung in the room.

Hutch dipped his head and closed his eyes "You're not gonna let this drop… are you?"

"Nope"

Hutch sighed heavily "Move over a little… prepare yourself for a bad bedtime story" He reached over and ruffled the curls.

"Oh boy! I LOVE bad bedtime stories" Starsky carefully clapped his hands in glee.

Hutch rolled his eyes "Move over please" he proceeded to help the brunet into a comfortable position. "Once upon a time…"

"Oh, I just know this is gonna be good!" Starsky rubbed his hands together.

"Starsky… you interrupt again and it's straight to sleep for you" he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his friend.

Starsky motioned that he was 'zipping his lip' and then threw the imaginary key away.

Hutch snorted, rolled his eyes and proceed with his narrative.

Starsky didn't interrupt for a long time. His heart ached with shared pain as Hutch told him how he had found him. "You sang and I sang with you?" His brows furrowed at the thought… that part seemed familiar, he thought hard… yes… he closed his eyes and concentrated "'Happy Trails'… I think I remember hearing you singing 'Happy Trails' to me… no… with me…"

"You do?" Oh, God… the worst part… terror and joy. Hutch wanted desperately to forget that part. Terror that he had lost his mind as well as his friend and the joy that in the madness, he could still have his friend. He listened as Starsky continued on with what he had remembered.

"Yeah… I think it's coming back to me… I think" Starsky closed his eyes and concentrated "Yeah… I think I thought we were camping and you… started to sing that song… I joined in… I remember being thirsty, hot and really thirsty… and I couldn't remember the words…"

Hutch closed his eyes to the pain that the memory gave him and proceeded to sing the song. He could once more smell the scent of the forest…hear the birds chirping, leaves rustling and hear the muffled voice of his friend joining him. Dear God… the thought made his voice waver and nearly break. But, as he continued to sing, he could hear that Starsky's voice wasn't muffled this time, it was clear and close. His friend was right next to him. Starsky had no trouble remembering the lyrics.

They finished the song and smiled at each other for a long moment.

Hutch's smile wavered and fell into little pieces, he couldn't hold back anymore and he started to cry, his shoulders shook with the force of his grief and he turned to Starsky's side and put his arms around his friend and cried louder. Great, heaving pain-filled gasps escaped from him. It had been to near a thing. According to the doctor, a couple more hours in that hole and he would have been dead.

Hutch began to relive the event. It was as if it happening all over again. The fear he felt in that instant that Starsky's hand popped out of the tiny hole and grabbed his wrist. He could see the pitiful, damaged hand grabbing his wrist… hear the muffled, pain-filled voice issuing from the grave… he remembered the death grip Starsky had maintained on him the whole time as he dug his best friend out of the ground… Starsky's grip had left bruises on his arm.

He felt Starsky return the hug, gently moving his casted left arm around his back and clutching him hard with his good right arm "That's it… let it out… s'okay… s'okay now" the voice was muffled again, but this time the interference wasn't dirt caused.

At those words, Hutch tightened up his grip and heard Starsky stifle a groan of pain "Oh! I'm sorry!" He leaned back and looked at the brunet's face, studying it to judge how much pain Starsky was in.

"Hutch, s'okay… how're you doin'? Feel any better now?" Dark blue eyes searched his own.

Starsky, always more worried about him than he worried about himself. Hutch peered back into the dark blues as he wiped his tears away "Much better Doctor Sigmund Freud Starsky" he let out a little laugh at his joke.

"That vil be vne hundred dollars, please" Starsky put his hand out as though to accept the money as he did his best/worst German accent.

"Starsky, that was terrible" Hutch eased away and leaned against the headboard again.

"So, you vil not pay me? I shall hav to sue you" He arched a brow at the blond.

"Ugh! Terrible… give it a rest already! Please!"

"S'not as terrible as my hunger…" Starsky rubbed his empty stomach, which growled loudly in response "See? I'm very hungry… soon, my pet, soon" he patted his belly again.

Hutch rolled his eyes and got up and moved across the room.

"Vhere are you go-ink?"

"STOP doing that!" Hutch continued to walk away.

"Vhat are you up to?" Starsky made the dialect worse.

"Please… give it a rest, please?" Hutch begged as he made his way to the phone. There was one sure way to shut his friend up.

"But vhat-" Starsky grinned his biggest grin, knowing exactly what Hutch was doing.

"Starsky… shut up! I'm on the phone… ordering pizza!"

The End