I had planned to post this chapter together with chapter 6, but since it needed a bit more editing I decided to post chapter 6 first. Wuemsel, Strut, thanks for the continuing support!

Chapter 7

Slamming open the door to the men's room, Starsky burst inside He started pacing around in anger a couple of times, before stopping in front of the mirror, leaning onto the basin. Two blue squinting eyes, shrouded by bitterness, stared back at him. Look at me, I look like hell.

He opened the faucet and splashed cool water on his face. Not until then did he notice his hands were shaking.

Searching deep inside he knew he was terrified of loosing Hutch. But when he'd seen the silent cry of broken trust and the consequent fear he had instilled in his partner as he had lost his temper again, he knew he had to walk away. If only to keep Hutch safe.

But breaking a partnership, a relationship they had for years sure as hell wasn't easy.

He looked up into the mirror again, spotting a few salty tears trickling down his cheeks. Angry he kicked the metal bin underneath the wash basin. Its contents went flying across the room as the bin clattered against the white tiled wall, bounced back and came to a halt next to the entrance.

A feeling of claustrophobic fear suddenly took hold of him. Refusing to let it take control, Starsky stood there for a while, shaking all over. Feeling utterly drained, he finally sank down on the floor against the back wall.

Looking up when the door opened, he was surprised to see his partner coming in. Hutch stopped briefly when their eyes met, before turning around to close the door. Although he was happy to see him Starsky cursed inwardly. Damn, I should've known he'd be coming after me, especially after that little scene in his room just now. T'riffic, he shouldn't even be walking around with a head wound like that.

Hutch was talking to someone on the other side of the door. "Go find another room, huh?" After an indistinct answer, his partner all but gently pushed the person back. "Sir, I don't care if you have to walk ten floors with that leg cast, you're not getting in here." He roughly closed the door in the person's face and turned to frown at his friend.

"That was cruel," Starsky couldn't help but saying.

"Yeah well, you oughta see me when I get really angry."

A smile escaped the brunet. "Yeah, your eyes become real beautiful, blondie." He frowned as he noticed the pale complexion and the slightly wobbling steps. "Ya know, strolling around hallways with this concussion of yours is not such a bright idea. "Your head must be killing you. Go to bed, I'll be all right."

Hutch gave him an icy stare, obviously not intending to go anywhere even though he did feel like crap. He moved to pick up the bin and its contents, carefully putting it underneath the basin. He shifted his focus on Starsky again. "Wanna tell me what's going on here?"

"Nothin's going on. I just need some space, that's all." Starsky answered, determined to keep his feelings under control this time.

Hutch looked away, thinking. He bit his lip, obviously not buying any of it.

"Look," Starsky tried more convincingly. "I got angry…and… I'm sorry I scared ya, but,-"

"Starsky don't play me for a fool. There's a lot more going on here and you know it!"

"Look, will ya please let it go, it's no big deal."

The blond threw his uninjured hand in the air with a sigh, turned away and started rubbing his temples. A sign his headache wasn't getting any better.

Feeling the quilt rise again, Starsky fought to keep the worry for his partner from showing.

Hutch sensed it, turned and walked over to him. He spoke a bit more subdued, "What is it that has you so worked up, huh?"

The brunet found that he couldn't answer, mostly because he didn't know the answer; he didn't want to know the answer.

Kneeling in front of him his friend's voice continued to probe. "Buddy, I can't help you, if you won't talk to me."

In a futile attempt to keep his emotions in check, Starsky looked away. Hutch lowered his eyes with a sigh, "The dreams Starsk, what are they about?"

Realizing his partner had hit the bull's eye, his temper reared up again. "It's nothing."

"Tell me."

He didn't know how Hutch did it, but the man had a knack for pulling out his feelings. The small part that recognized the danger his partner was in fought desperately for control. It lost.

"I don't wanna talk, I told you to let it go!"

"Oh come off it Starsk, you seriously expect me to carry on as if nothing happened? D' you think I like searching the men's rooms while my head feels like its going to explode at any second. Dammit Starsk… you're acting like a little boy!"

The words caused a surge of emotions to explode in his chest. Rage clouded his vision in a red haze. It needed a release, and found it. He lashed out with his fist again. Only this time… Hutch caught it… and held it in mid-air.

Trembling, Starsky tried to pull his arm free. His partner wouldn't let him, holding his fist in a gentle, yet iron grip. "Uh uh, buddy. Not before you tell me."

The resolve, the anger Starsky felt in his grip overwhelmed him, telling the brunet his partner had been waiting for this to happen, had purposefully steered towards it and would never, ever let him go. After what had happened, the fierceness of Hutch's love came as a shock, washing over him in waves as they sat there, fists locked. The waves quite efficiently shattered the remaining barriers Starsky's anxious mind had raised in defence. He started to shake more violently.

"Tell me." Hutch pushed warmly.

Feeling the tension drain like water from the desert, Starsky suddenly felt utterly exposed. A helpless tear clouded his vision as he stared at his partner.

Hutch moved in to touch his forehead with his own, the grip on his fist changing to one of comfort. "Trust me a bit will ya, Starsk?"

The trembling subsided as Starsky took a deep breath.

Hutch lifted his head, pulling back a bit, but keeping his touch, holding the brunet's shoulder at arms length. "It's still Simone is it?"

Starsky shrugged. "I guess so." With a sigh he leaned his head back against the wall.

"Aw Hutch, those dreams really suck the life out of me." He shot a glance at his partner. "And this diet I'm on ain't exactly helpin' matters."

The blond listened quietly, so Starsky continued, trying to explain himself. "You know, in the cave? When they… those creeps hit me? I could never see it coming, with the blindfold and all… So I started to tense up whenever I heard a sound."

Starsky felt the grip on his shoulder tightening slightly. He knew it wasn't comfort. Hutch didn't like what he was hearing one bit, but he didn't say a word.

"Well, seems like my body still thinks I'm in danger, because I can't seem to shake it. It's as if… a giant sword's hanging over my head, threatening to come down on me…," he looked his partner in the eyes. "And you… at any moment…"

Hutch was quiet for a moment before speaking softly. "That's because I wasn't there when it happened." He hesitated as if something suddenly dawned on him. "That's it? You're angry because I was so late, buddy?

Starsky stared at him in surprise, having to admit to himself that Hutch might have got a point. "I… could be… I don't know… it's just… sometimes I feel I'm still there, ya know?"

"You have to let it go, buddy… because believe me if I say that the next time you try to hit me, I'll punch your lights out." He smiled to take the sting out of his words.

Starsky nodded, appreciating the humour and feeling slightly better.

The corner of Hutch's lip curled up in a slight smile as he spoke wearily. "Besides, the only thing that'll bear down on you right now, if you keep sitting on the floor of the men's room like that is the head-nurse." Hutch stood up and reached for his partner to lend him a hand.

"She might anyway. I already stole her plant," he grinned. He had noticed the blond was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Preoccupied with wanting to escort him back to his room as soon as possible, Starsky followed his partner to the door. Hutch opened it to let him through, but suddenly closed it with a bang, making the brunet collide hard with the woodwork. "Hey!" Starsky yelled.

Hutch's expression had turned dead serious as he determinately kept the door closed with his left hand. "Starsky, you wanted to walk out on our partnership and you only brought me this plant as substitution?"

"I wasn't,-" The brunet started say, wondering where on earth Hutch had found the strength to sound so angry as he should be falling over on the spot.

The blond pointed a finger at him. "You said, and I quote: thought you might want to have someone to talk to when I'm gone, unquote!"

"Well," Starsky stammered, knowing full well his partner was speaking the truth. "It's a nice plant."

"Yeah, but it doesn't exactly has your personality, Starsk."

"Oh, I don't know. Having a ten foot tall geranium to back you up, will scare the crap out of any perp."

"And another thing…" Hutch continued mercilessly. "You didn't even buy it, you stole it!"

Starsky smiled, grabbed his partner's arm holding the door closed and moved in a bit closer. "Anything for you, Schweetheart."

Hutch lowered his arm. Grinning Starsky opened the door and walked out, only to wait patiently in the hallway to motion his partner back to bed.

TBC