Hi All!

Well, this is it, the last chapter of "Lightning" Honest. Thanks for reading and reviewing. –Blush- Thanks to all who have helped and encouraged me to keep writing. –Bow- I thank you! –Bow again-

Reblecat – I must thank you for review of chapter #10, it gave me a great idea for chapter #12.

Special thanks to: Kelli – my beta, Kreek – friend, muse and idea bouncer, Eli for being there and Wuemsel for her love of dog-Hutch, for her nudges, shoves and laughter inducing reviews.

Chapter 12

Starsky was on autopilot as he drove to the hospital and he mentally went over the events that had just occurred. And he wondered what the very near future would hold. He was glad it was early morning; the traffic was very light and he arrived at the hospital a short time later. He had sped through more than one red light along the way. He pulled into the parking lot and found a parking spot close to the entrance and pulled in.

As he exited his car, he stopped and looked at the rider's side seat. The dog lay there, wrapped in a blanket that the Dobeys' had had in the trunk of their car. Starsky pressed lips together and they made a thin, grim line across his face. God, I hope Rosie is right that Hutch's spirit or soul or whatever is no longer in that dog's body.

During his frantic drive, Starsky had realized that it had all started in that filthy back alley when the lightning had hit his friend. That was when the strangeness began. Perhaps using the defibrillator on the dog had put Hutch back in his own body. He crossed his fingers. It was a small and probably futile gesture.

Then again, the lightning had hit them both at the same time. The defibrillator was used on Hutch alone in the ambulance and the dog was in Hutch's body, here at the hospital… what would that mean for Hutch? Could he truly be dead? Had the transference even taken place at all? His head ached with the thoughts. And what could the urgent call to return to the hospital mean? There was only one way to find out. He slammed the Torino's door and ran to his partner's room.

Unable to stand being cooped up in an elevator; he ran the steps instead of taking it to the floor Hutch was on. When he exited the stairwell to that floor the first thing he saw was Huggy was sitting on the floor, next to the door of Hutch's room, his face was buried in his hands.

Starsky dashed to the thin man's side and crouched down "Huggy? What's goin' on? Dobey said you called"

Huggy didn't look up and his voice was muffled by his hands "It's my fault… it's all my fault" the thin shoulders started to shake as the black man began to sob.

Cold fear slipped down Starsky's spine as he looked down at the upset man "Huggy… what's your fault? What happ-" He stopped talking as several doctors and nurses exited Hutch's room. All were hanging their heads and some talked quietly to the others. A couple of them were pushing machines.

"Hey… what's goin' on?" He spotted a familiar face "Doctor Goldberg!"

The tall thin doctor turned at hearing his name being called; when he saw Starsky, a solemn expression formed on his normally haughty face.

Starsky rapidly moved to the doctor's side and grabbed his arm. "Will you tell me what's going on here?" his heart thumped loudly in his chest as he stared at the man.

"I'm sorry Detective Starsky, your friend didn't make it" the doctor reached out and gently squeezed the detective's upper arm "You have my most heartfelt condolences"

"WHAT? What do you mean 'he didn't make it'?" Starsky shook off the hand that was on his arm and grabbed the tall doctor's arms and shook him hard "What did you do to him!"

"I did nothing to him-"

Huggy interrupted the doctor "It's all MY Fault! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Huggy struggled to his feet and staggered over to the gape-jawed detective "Starsk… it's MY fault… my fault…" He leaned against the wall to prop himself up, as his knees were weak from his remorse and anguish.

"What's your fault Huggy? W-what happened?" Starsky started to shake as fear raced through him. He had just watched Hutch die… it couldn't have happened twice? Could it?

"I was watching him… like you asked… I got hungry and… and I got a hamburger out…out of the vending machine… I heated it up and came back to the room and started to eat it… the hamburger. It tasted awful… I noticed Hutch staring at the burger… he looked hungry, so… so I gave held it up to give him a bite… but h-he grabbed the whole thing in his mouth and gulped it down… I don't th-think he even chewed it at all… then… then… h-he started to ch-cho-" Huggy couldn't get the word out as total grief and guilt racked his body. He slid down the wall and ended up on the floor again and buried his face in his arms once more.

Confused, Starsky stared mutely at Huggy, trying to comprehend what the man was trying to tell him. Nothing was making sense.

Seeing the detective's shocked confusion, Doctor Goldberg intervened "What you friend is trying to say is that Detective Hutchinson choked to death on the hamburger. We did all we could to try to save him. I removed the food from his trachea-"

"Ch-choked to death? He's dead?" Starsky looked at the doctor as if he was speaking a foreign language "He can't be dead… he's in a hospital… he was fine… he was fine when I left him…" Starsky stared at the doctor without seeing him.

"I removed the obstruction, cleared his airway, rescue breathing was initiated and oxygen was administered, but then he went into cardiac arrest and that was the abnormal part… that shouldn't have happened… our response time was well within the parameters for a successful resuscitation…" Goldberg rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he pondered the conundrum.

Starsky's eyes glazed over and he headed for his partner's room.

"Although, since he was struck by lightning, it's very possible his heart muscle was damaged…" Doctor Goldberg trailed off as the detective turned away and made his way into the deceased patient's room. Goldberg shrugged, anytime the detective was ready for details, he would be happy to provide them. The doctor started off down the hall. He was determined that he would be there during the autopsy to see for himself just what had caused his failure to revive the patient, for he truly despised having failed to save the man's life… or any life, for that matter.

Starsky slowly turned away from the doctor and Huggy. If the doctor had said something more, he never heard it. The news that Hutch was dead overwhelmed him and he could neither hear nor understand anything else. Hutch was dead. Impossible.

He entered the room. If anyone tried to stop him, he didn't notice. He was in a fog. Nothing felt real any more. This couldn't be happening… not twice… not twice in one night. It wasn't real. None of it was. 'It's just a dream… just a dream…just a horrible nightmare… wake up, just wake up and it'll be alright… it's just a dream…'

He told himself that over and over worked until he stopped and stared at the white sheet covering the body. He forced himself forward to the bedside and slowly pulled the sheet off the body's head. It was Hutch. He was looking at the mortal remains of his friend. It was so unreal. These last few days were unreal.

Starsky didn't know how long he stood there, staring at the body. Then, as if he was a marionette and someone pulled the strings that bound him, he moved awkwardly the rest of the way to the bed and reached out and stroked the blond hair.

The room slowly turned blurry as he ran his hand over the softness. It was too much. Hutch was truly dead now. Starsky struggled to make sense of any of it. Hutch got hit by lightning, which made him; somehow, switch spirits or souls or whatever with a dog. Then, just when he finally figured out that Hutch is in the dog's body… Hutch, still in the body of the dog, dies.

His hopes were raised briefly by the thought that Hutch's spirit had somehow made it back into his own body. But now that his human body was dead, Hutch was truly dead. There was no hope. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

Starsky didn't know when it happened, but he found himself hugging Hutch's body, his head on Hutch's still chest and silent chest, weeping. All the while, his mind screamed out in agony 'It's not fair! It's NOT fair! IT'S NOT FAIR!'

The racket his brain was making in his head, nearly made him miss the change from total stillness to a subtle and feeble lub-dub. Starsky silenced his brain, held his breath and listened to the sound under his ear… lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub

Starsky lifted his head for a moment and stared at the still and pale face. Slowly he lowered his head to his friend's chest and listened once more … lub-dub… lub-dub… lub-dub… That sound could be only one thing. A heart beat. Hutch's heart beat.

Starsky grabbed the nurse call button and pushed it. He then proceeded with mouth-to- mouth rescue breathing until the nurse came. She eyed him with great concern in her eyes as he explained –loudly- that his friend had a heartbeat. And when she humored him and put her stethoscope to the 'dead man's' chest, she was the one calling loudly for assistance, for help for the dead man who wasn't dead after all.

XXXX

Captain Harold Dobey sat down hard on the hospital chair and leaned back. His face a mask of confusion "Okay… explain it to me one more time… SLOWLY this time! Huggy, no interfering… I mean it! I just want to hear Starsky's version… Go ahead" He gestured at the anxiously pacing detective.

Dobey was having trouble with the day's events. He knew he wasn't the only one. Starsky and Huggy both had their share of ups and downs today as well. But having to deal with his daughter missing and then found, then getting to the hospital only to find out that Hutch had died…

He was more than a little pissed off at Huggy for nearly killing one of his favorite detectives… but he would deal with that later… Then after hearing that wrenching news, then he hears that his dead detective isn't dead after all. He really didn't think his heart or his sanity could take much more of this. He needed a vacation. Right now.

He listened as Starsky, without Huggy's help this time, breathlessly informed him that while he was saying his good-byes Hutch's heart had started beating again. The doctor had explained that the adrenalin they had administered during the cardiac arrest must have 'kicked in' and the detective's heart had somehow started beating again. It was a miracle. Dobey said a brief prayer for the wondrous gifts he had been blessed with this day.

But Dobey was also aware that Hutchinson wasn't out of the woods just yet. There might be brain damage from the lack of oxygen during his arrest. That wasn't Hutch's only problem, he had cracked ribs due to the CPR that had been performed on him.

When Starsky finished his narrative, he turned on his heel and headed back to his partner's room. Dobey knew from experience that nothing would pry the curly haired detective from the blond's room until he was well on the way to recovery. Just how much of a recovery he would make was yet to be seen.

Doctor Goldberg stopped by after Starsky had returned Hutch's room and the doctor explained that there had also been some damage done to the patient's throat when one of the intern's had used the laryngoscope and McGill forceps get the hamburger out.

Goldberg make it clear that he was very sorry, but the injury should heal in a day or two, if the detective recovered before then, he might find it difficult and painful to talk. It was a minor concern compared to the other issues. They would know the full extent of all the damages as soon as the detective woke up.

XXXX

Starsky was very upset with Huggy, but he knew that it had been an accident. He told Huggy about the dog in his car and asked Huggy to take care of it. Huggy, still gilt ridden, offered to dig the hole in Dobey's backyard as well as having one of his cousins make the box to bury the dog in. Starsky handed Huggy the keys to the Torino.

With that grim task being taken care of, Starsky returned his attention to Hutch. Would Hutch be able to recover? And if he did, would he be his old self? Or would it be the dog in control in Hutch's body? Or… would there only be an empty shell, a husk of a breathing body with no soul or spirit of its own. There was no real way to tell just yet. All he could do now was wait.

The hours pasted slowly and nurses entered and exited, doctors filed in and out as well and shifts changed. Dobey stopped by and delivered flowers. Others came and went as well; the only constant was Starsky, who aside from short breaks for food and drink, stayed by the blond's side.

It was nearly thirty-six hours before Hutch finally started to show signs of regaining consciousness. Starsky detected a change and lifted his head off the bed. He had fallen asleep sitting in a chair with his head and shoulders resting on Hutch's bed. He was determined to be the first thing the blond saw when he woke up.

Though the movement was small, Starsky sensed it, even in his sleep. He blinked drowsily at his friend and watched as Hutch moved his head again, a little more this time. The blond's eyelids twitched and his fingers on the hand nearest Starsky curled and uncurled.

Starsky wiped the sleep out of his eyes and sat up a little straighter and gently took the blond's right hand into both of his. He watched the blond blink his eyes slowly. Starsky squeezed the hand he was holding "Hey Hutch… how're you doin'?" He watched as his friend slowly moved his head as though responding to the sound of his voice, "hey… partner… are you awake, yet?"

The light blue eyes slowly moved towards his face and a puzzled look strode leisurely across the blond's face. The eyes were unfocused and wandered a bit "Hutch… Hutch?" Starsky lightly patted the pale face and the light blue eyes started to focus a bit more and finally connected with his own. The blond eyebrows knitted in a frown, as the man seemingly grew more aware of his surroundings.

Starsky looked for any signs of recognition from Hutch. He again squeezed Hutch's hand and thought he felt a weak return squeeze. "Hey Hutch, enough sleeping now, time to wake up" he held his breath and waited as Hutch blinked at him a few more times. The light blue eyes drifted once more.

"C'mon Hutch… wake up partner, c'mon… I know you can do it" Starsky pleaded.

The blond eyes moved slowly back towards his face, his head turned as well and Starsky found himself on the receiving end of a familiar gaze.

"Hutch?" Starsky watched as the lids batted slowly at first and then more rapidly, then a slow smile spread across the blond's face. "Hutch… it is you? Isn't it?" he whispered and glanced around the room to assure himself they were still alone. He bit his lip as he waited anxiously for the reply. Would it be the dog… or his best friend that responded?

He watched as his friend struggled to speak, it was obvious that his throat was bothering him. The blond brows knitted in concentration and effort. Starsky waited impatiently for the answer. After several tries, Hutch managed to whisper "yes" it was pained, but clear. One blond eyebrow rose in question.

Seeing the familiar movement and with that single word answer, Starsky knew it to be true, his friend was back. Back where he belonged. He let out a war-whoop and hugged the blond briefly and he apologized at the wince he saw… after remembering, a little too late, that doctor Goldberg had said something about a broken or cracked ribs before bouncing out the door to inform the nurses and Huggy that Hutch was awake.

He than went back to his friend's side and took his friend's hand. He relished the eye contact and the occasional hand squeeze for each told him that Hutch was back where he belonged. He grinned like a fool until they made him let go so they could do some testing.

XXXX

It was hours later after Hutch regained consciousness and doctors and nurses had all done what they needed to do and Starsky was finally able to be alone in the room. Upon preparing to exit the room, Doctor Goldberg had shaken his head and muttered something about miracles after he filled the curly haired detective in on Hutch's recovery.

Yes, there was still damage to his ribs and his throat would be quite sore for a few more days, but there did not seem to be any brain damage and he was giving normal responses to questions. Something he hadn't been able to do just before the cardiac arrest. The tall doctor wandered back out of the room with a perplexed look on his face.

Hutch was dozing when Starsky quietly returned to his best friend's side. He leaned against the wall next to the bed and simply looked at his friend. Hutch was back. Back where he belonged, in his own body, soon to be back in his own life. But, just how much would he remember about what had happened to him? Would he remember anything at all?

Starsky crossed the room to retrieve a chair and after moving it next to the bed, sat down to wait. Hopefully, when he awoke, Hutch would be able to answer that question.

XXXX

The last thing Hutch remembered as he lay bleeding in his friend's lap, was saying good-bye to Starsky. He had been able to actually feel the love his friend exuded in that most painful of moments. It had been the sole bright spot in the whole dying thing. It had been good to know that Starsky understood who he really was inside the dog. At least he had that.

Than his world had gone black. He was sure that he was dead. But then he had opened his eyes to the sound of Starsky's voice and as he had regained consciousness, Hutch had been amazed, truly amazed to be alive. He had looked about and saw he was in a hospital. He could hardly believe it. If he were in a hospital, that could only mean he was back in his body, he hoped.

But there was so much pain. Pain that nearly blinded him with its intensity, however the sound of Starsky's voice pushed it back into a corner. The easing of the pain allowed him to smile and when Starsky asked 'Hutch… it is you? Isn't it?' he had had to really work to get the single word 'yes' out. He listened as his partner whooped and felt pain as the brunet hugged him.

There had been a flurry of doctors and nurses and small, but comforting peeks of Starsky poking his head in every so often to check up on him as he was deluged with sensory input from all of the activity. It wore him out when all he wanted to do was talk to his partner and get some details on the events of the last few days. He dozed off before he could see his partner again. But it was alright. He knew that Starsky would be there when he woke up next.

XXXX

One week after Hutch had been discharged from the hospital, the Dobey's threw a little cookout in their back yard for their two favorite detectives.

Neither Starsky nor Hutch had explained to them, or anyone else, what had really happened to Hutch when he had been hit by lightning. Nor did they try to explain the strange events that culminated with this little get together. No one needed to know and besides, no one would believe them anyway.

Except for Rosie, but she didn't seem to think any of it had been anything special. Hutch, to her, had been 'under covers' and now he wasn't and that was all that mattered to her.

Starsky had noticed a few small changes in his friend since his return to his own body. But dismissed them as inconsequential. But they were there, nonetheless. Like now, he watched as Hutch closed his eyes and sniffed the air, ever so slightly and then he disappeared into the kitchen. Starsky followed him at a distance, just to see what would happen.

He made his way to the sliding glass door of the porch and peered inside. He saw Hutch pick up some raw hamburger and pop it into his mouth "Hey! Whaddya doin'?"

Hutch blushed and looked away for a moment as he quickly chewed the food and swallowed it before looking him in the eye and answering "Umm, eating steak tar-tar"

"Steak tar-tar? Looks like you were eating raw hamburger ta me. Didn't your mother ever tell you that the only way to eat meat was to have it practically charcoaled?" Starsky shook his head and laughed as Hutch raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, Starsk… steak tar-tar IS raw hamburger! It's served in the finest restaurants and is considered to be a delicacy" Hutch gave Starsky his haughtiest look and headed back outside as he licked his fingers; totally ruining the sophisticated look he was trying to pull off.

Starsky shook his head and laughed, "'Steak tar-tar' my ass… that's tiger meat… that cow is practically still moo-ing. And, it's just one more reason for me to stay away from fancy-schmancy restaurants. C'mon partner, I wanna show you somethin'"

Starsky led Hutch to a spot by the rose bushes.

Hutch recognized it as the spot where Rosie had found him. He looked down and noticed a flat stone. Carved on the stone were the words - 'In Loving Memory of 'Partner' Hutchinson'

Starsky watched as Hutch knelt down and fingered each letter; when he looked up, Starsky could see that the light blue eyes were shining with unshed tears. A single tear escaped and slid unhindered down his friend's face.

"Thanks Starsk… he wasn't a bad dog" The blond got to his feet.

"No, he wasn't bad… and he was one hell of a partner… partner" Starsky put an arm over his friend's shoulders "C'mon, I think I hear a beer calling our names"

As they headed back across the yard to the porch, Hutch noticed a flash of movement. He stopped and stared at it intently.

Starsky stopped as well "Hey, whatcha lookin' at?"

"It's a cat!" Hutch whispered excitedly as he took a slow step in the cat's direction.

"So? It's just a cat… let's get that beer now" he grabbed Hutch's elbow and tugged.

Hutch looked longingly at the cat. It arched its back at him and hissed. He felt the urge to growl and give chase. He felt his friend tug at his arm again and forced himself to follow. Beer was more important than chasing a cat.

Well, almost

Hutch knew, as Starsky did, that the dog wasn't quite out of their lives just yet.

The End