"Hey, you awake?" A voice sounded from somewhere overhead. "Take it easy there buddy, it's okay."

Hutch swallowed the stale saliva in his mouth and winced as a wave of pain swept over him. His head felt swollen and heavy, like he had gotten very drunk then boxed a few rounds. The steady beeping of a heart monitor and the quiet hum of an IV pump jogged something fuzzy in his memory. It all felt very familiar, but that was understandable given his and Starsky's occupations.

Starsky!

Hutch rolled his head to the side and blinked open his eyes, searching for his partner. He had just seen Starsky take a bullet to the chest, why was he laying in this room? The world spun as Hutch got his arms under him and tried to sit up.

"It's me buddy, just relax. I'll get the doctor."

"Starsk?" The haze slowly cleared from his vision and Hutch focused on his partner. Starsky was leaning over him, his hands on Hutch's arms, and there was not a trace of blood on his red shirt. Hutch stilled his movements. Had it all been a dream? It had all been so real- real enough to give him an odd sense of déjà vu. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

A straw was placed between his lips and Hutch shivered. He pulled back, too upset to drink right now. What was going on here? Everything was eerily familiar, yet strangely detached. He must have been dreaming earlier. Starsky was here, alive and well in front of him, if looking concerned and expectant.

Hutch realized he had been asked a question. "I was going home?"

"Yeah," Starsky nodded curtly, his expression changing to encouragement.

Hutch's gaze dropped as he remembered the events that most likely landed him in the hospital in the first place. "I was driving… I saw-" Hutch's eyes opened wide. "I saw the girl, April. Well, I thought I saw her," he deflated a little, not really sure what he saw. "Something was in the road, I swerved to avoid hitting it…"

Starsky narrowed his eyes. "No one was behind you? No one ran you off the road?"

Hutch shivered again and he glanced to the doorway. "No. Not that I remember, why?"

"Are you okay?" Starsky asked.

Hutch blinked as the world seemed to skid to a halt. The trance-like veil he had been under since he awoke had been torn away, leaving the detective feeling as if ice water had been thrown on him. Suddenly there was no more feeling of impending doom or extreme sensation of déjà vu. Hutch could breathe more clearly and deeply, and the sun seemed to be shining through the hospital window a little more brightly. "Uh…" he stammered, not sure if this was something Starsky needed to know about or not. Looking around for distractions, Hutch spotted the IV pump. "What's that?" he asked, jerking his head in the direction of the clear bag above his head.

"It's safe, I made sure of it," Starsky replied quickly. "Now answer my question. Are you okay?"

Hutch let his head fall back against the pillows. "My head hurts."

"That has got to be the understatement of the day, Mr. Hutchinson," Dr. Travis announced as he entered the room.

Hutch jerked in surprise and struggled to sit up. "Who are you?" he asked, realizing belatedly the obviousness of the answer.

"I am Doctor Travis," the man who looked too young to be a doctor replied. He moved closer to Hutch as he readied his stethoscope. "Can you tell me who you are?"

Hutch flinched as he cold metal came to rest on his bare chest. "Of course I know who I am," he replied, the glanced at Starsky and added, "My name is Ken Hutchinson, I live in Venice Place, it is the year 1979, etcetera, etcetera. Did I pass?"

"Impressively so," Travis replied as he hung the stethoscope around his neck. "Aside from your head, how do you feel?"

"Like I ran my car into a tree."

"More specific, I'm afraid."

Hutch sighed. "My arms hurt, my legs hurt. Chest too. I know it's from bracing myself, so you can skip that little speech." Hutch gave a small smile, because he didn't intend to come across harshly. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"Have you had a concussion before?"

"Yes."

"Well then, based on your fluidity, I'd say you can leave in a few hours. Providing, of course, that you follow the rules and rest."

Hutch rolled his eyes. "And I was so looking forward to a game of tag football."

"I'll keep him in line, doc," Starsky spoke up. He faked a glare at Hutch but couldn't hold it long. He broke into a smile and said, "Guess that means I'll be crashing at your place for a while, huh partner?"

Visions of a belching, loud, happy-go-lucky Starsky played through Hutch's mind. "On second thought, maybe I'll just stay here overnight."

"I'll tell you now that insurance won't cover it," Dr. Travis replied.

Hutch sat a little straighter. "Take me home, partner."

"Aw, you really do love me," Starsky grinned and nudged Hutch playfully.

Dr. Travis replaced the clipboard in the holder at the foot of the bed and stuck his pen in his pocket. "I'll send in a nurse to go over the instructions for you. Here's some prescriptions," he said, handing Starsky a couple squares of paper. "Start taking those tonight. I want to see you back here in a week, understood?"

Hutch sighed and nodded. The exhaustion was catching up to him as he thanked the doctor.

"Nice meeting you both, detectives," Dr. Travis said as he shook Starsky's hand. "Call me with any problems. I'll see you in one week."

When Starsky and Hutch were alone again, Hutch let his eyes fall shut. The pain was a constant force in his head. He hated to think what he would feel like without the aid of pain medications. Getting home and getting to bed seemed like a really good idea right now. Even with Starsky clipping his toenails in front of the TV.

"Alright partner, let's hit the road."

Hutch looked down at his blue and white hospital gown.

"Oh, right. I'll be right back."

Hutch smiled as Starsky darted out of the door. He hadn't even said anything and Starsky knew exactly what he wanted. It was almost scary how in sync they had become over the years. Before Hutch had known Starsky, he thought only a man and woman could share that kind of intimate relationship. Now he was more mature and experienced, and he realized that sex had nothing to do with deep friendship.

It was only a matter of minutes before Starsky returned with his clothes, and shortly after him appeared the nurse. Starsky had listened intently, but whether it was because he was truly interested or because she happened to be young and blonde, Hutch did not know. He could have recited the directions as well as the nurse. 'Symptoms may include tiredness, poor concentration, irritability, sensitivity to light and sound, headache and dizziness. Create a daily routine and gets plenty of rest. Don't push yourself. Call if the symptoms don't fade.' Hutch rolled his eyes. He and Starsky had enough practice taking care of one another's concussions that by now, they had everything down pat.

Within half an hour, Hutch was sitting in the Torino with his head against the window as Starsky drove them home. The subtle signal cued Starsky to remain quiet, and Hutch was grateful for his partner's understanding. His head still ached, although not as bad as before, and the rest of his body protested any movement. Hutch eyed the prescription bags on the floorboards. That had better be some good stuff.

The road noise and vibration from the car was soothing to Hutch. The sun was just beginning to rise in the east and everything absorbed a pink tint. The highway was fairly capacious and the drive was quick and smooth. His eyelids grew heavy and finally slipped shut, and a dream began playing in his mind.

The Torino came to a stop at the sign. Hutch was staring out the window while Starsky was singing softly with the radio. A young woman jogged by, continuing down the street as her ponytail swung behind her head and a panting chocolate lab trotted along beside her. Seeing the pair made Hutch yearn to go for a run himself. He had been getting far too lax about exercising lately.

The Torino hit a bump and Hutch jerked awake, looking to Starsky.

"Sorry bout that," he apologized sheepishly.

Satisfied more imminent danger was not pressing, Hutch let his head rest against the window once more.

They came to a stop outside Hutch's apartment. One of the neighborhood kids waved quickly as he passed by on a skateboard. Hutch didn't have time to return the gesture before the kid's back was to him. He and Starsky exited the car simultaneously, and Hutch waited on the sidewalk for his partner to round the car and join him.

"You look pathetic. Want me to make you something to eat before you go to sleep?"

Hutch pulled out his key as they walked in the building. "No thanks, I'm good." When he heard Starsky's stomach rumble, he added, "You make something for yourself though."

Hutch moved slowly up the stairs as each change in altitude was dizzying. Starsky was behind him the entire time, ready to break his fall. The gesture was moving and unnerving at the same time. It was Hutch's fault this had happened in the first place. If he had hadn't been so preoccupied with April Bently's case, he would have seen the deer in time. Hutch paused at the top of the stairs just long enough to swallow the bile that was creeping up his throat.

"Just a little more."

Starsky's hand was on his back, gently urging Hutch forward and towards his apartment. The key was taken from his hand and the door was pushed open before him. Starsky stepped aside in a 'tah-dah!' kind of way and Hutch stepped inside.

"Hey, you still alive over there?"

Hutch winced as his headache made itself known once again. He blinked open his eyes and turned to look at Starsky. "What?"

The burnet smiled. "That's my boy," he said, and Hutch heard the tease in his voice.

"You know, you shouldn't make fun of people when they're sick or injured," he retorted. "Remember who has to take care of you when it's your turn."

"At least I make it easy on ya," Starsky replied. "My place is picked up so nobody trips on guitars or plant pots in the middle of the night…" he emphasized 'nobody' with a finger pointed at his own chest. "You don't have to go to the store to buy me special 'healthy' food. And, my mother sends us little goodies. I don't see your mom sending a loaf of homemade bread."

Hutch rolled his eyes. He knew Starsky was trying to lighten the mood, but this thoughts kept going back to the vision of the little girl in the road. "Any news on April yet?"

"Hutch, you've only been off duty for like…" Starsky glanced at his watch, "Twelve hours."

"So yes or no?"

"No."

Hutch deflated a little and leaned back against the seat, staring out the window. "Why can't we find this guy Starsk? I mean, it's not like you can take a 9 year old girl and just dis-"

The Torino came to a stop at the sign. A young woman jogged by, continuing down the street as her ponytail swung behind her head and a panting chocolate lab trotted along beside her.

Hutch blinked.

"Hutch?"

"Uh," Hutch's mouth hung open in shock. It was happening again.

"You okay?" Starsky sounded more worried now.

Maybe he was seeing things. "I've seen that dog before," he ventured, pointing a finger as the Torino started forward.

"It's a brown dog. You've seen millions of them before."

Good. Well, he wasn't seeing things.

This déjà vu stuff was really starting to creep him out. His dreams were coming true. Maybe he should try to dream about winning the lottery. At least then this would all be worth while.

Hutch rubbed his eyes. Now was not the time to be going crazy. In his mind, he analyzed exactly what was happening. First, he envisioned the young girl who had pretty much become an obsession, causing him to crash his car into a tree. Second, he dreams about Starsky at his bedside then getting brutally murdered. After he woke up, everything except the brutally murdered part came true. Now, he was seeing the pedestrians he had dreamed about merely five minutes ago.

What was happening to him? These weren't dreams they were premonitions. Hutch didn't have premonitions.

They came to a stop outside Hutch's apartment. One of the neighborhood kids waved quickly as he passed by on a skateboard.

Hutch sat still in shock, only belatedly returning the gesture.

Starsky turned off the car's engine and reached for the door handle, prompting Hutch to do the same. He and Starsky exited the car simultaneously, and Hutch waited on the sidewalk for his partner to round the car and join him.

"You look pathetic. Want me to make you something to eat before you go to sleep?"

Hutch looked at Starsky with wide eyes, but the burnet was already ahead of him and opening the door. Hutch moved closer, waiting to hear…

Starsky's stomach gurgled.

Hutch pulled out his key as they walked in the building. "No thanks, I'm good. You make something for yourself though."

Hutch moved slowly up the stairs as each change in altitude was dizzying. He clung to the railing; the feeling of déjà vu was more overpowering than the throbbing in his head. Starsky was behind him the entire time, ready to break his fall. The gesture was moving and unnerving at the same time. By the time they reached the top, Hutch had to swallow the bile that was creeping up his throat.

"Just a little more."

Starsky's hand was on his back, gently urging Hutch forward and towards his apartment. His vision was fading and he was traveling by memory alone. The key was taken from his hand and the door was pushed open before him. Starsky stepped aside in a 'tah-dah!' kind of way.

Hutch fainted.