Thanks to all the usual suspects! Have a merry Christmas everybody!
Remember that this is NOT a death story...
Warning: strong emotional content.
Chapter 18
The rapid breathing in his ear echoed through the silent passageways and filled his heart with dread as Starsky's intake of air became ever faster. The weight leaning against his arm had steadily increased. His friend couldn't go much further.
"Starsk, hang on… we're almost out." Starsky was still conscious, hanging on through sheer strength of will. Death, preceded by the body slowly shutting down on his partner, was lurking far too close. If he closed his eyes Hutch could almost feel the cold power of the priest's workings destroying the life next to him, yet all he could do was to keep walking.
A shivering voice spoke up. "We're lost… aren't we?"
The small caves and dark passages they passed all looked the same. Hutch had no idea where he was going. But he wasn't about to tell his partner that. "You let me worry about that, buddy."
"Sure," Starsky slurred.
They entered a massive cave. Hutch stopped at the entrance as a cool breeze touched his face. It carried the scent of mosses, mouldy rocks, and stuffy floors, but also something else, something that tasted like a warning.
"Wass a… matter?"
"I don't know…"
Starsky straightened a little, trying to study the massive blackness beyond. "I can't see a thing…"
"It's probably nothing…" Hutch mulled. "Come on."
"Wait," although his voice was ragged, the demand in it was clear.
Hutch stopped in surprise. "What?"
Convulsing with sudden pain, Starsky kept silent for a while, catching his breath. "It's just that…" he stated weakly, "I'm sorry."
"Starsky, you're not a burden, if that's what you-"
"No… not that." Untangling himself slightly from Hutch's hold, Starsky managed to take a step back. "Sorry for hitting… you… earlier…"
Hutch frowned, shaken by his partner's confession. You're gonna make it buddy, so why are you bringing this up now? He looked away, refusing to think about anything other than that they would both get out of here, alive, "I told you, I'm all right… You didn't hurt me."
"Bull... Bullshit," Starsky bit back, his eyes momentarily clearing in penned up frustration.
Instantly, the words and the care behind them hurtled the blond back to a pain he'd started to feel ever since Starsky had turned on him in that hallway at the station. He bit his lip.
Mercilessly his partner continued, "I saw… you… flinch…a couple of times… that ain't … you, Hutch. Don't lie… to me."
Hutch turned to look his partner in the eye for the longest time, and then sighed, "Can't fool you," he said softly, "can I?"
Starsky shook his head; his eyes clouded with sympathy, "It's still… me and thee, partner, don't forget that…" His voice faltered, as he tried to keep the pain from showing and didn't succeed.
"I know, I know," Hutch answered firmly and quickly moved over. Gratefully, Starsky sank back against him. "Come on," the blond said, focused once more on getting his sick friend out. "Its time to leave this place."
No answer; Hutch could feel the strength ebbing away from his partner as he pulled him onwards. Cramps stiffened the body next to him as the symptoms of dehydration became more pronounced by the second.
The darkness was all encompassing. The only light came from a moss-like substance on the wall that glowed in the dark. Staying close to the side, he was making his way across the cave when severe muscle contractions in Starsky's back resulted in a loud moan that seemed to echo in the blond's soul.
He's getting worse…Hutch grabbed one of Starsky's hands a bit tighter. It felt cool and moist to the touch, indicating the body was unable to keepthe blood circulation going. Starsky was going into hypovolaemic shock. He'd be gone soon if rehydration wasn't started quickly. How long could his partner keep this up? Pulling him along as fast as he dared, he absentmindedly rubbed the hand with his fingers, willing some warmth back into the extremities.
Suddenly something hard impacted just above his head, sending a small avalanche of rocks down on top of him. Police instinct made him push his partner down as bullets, apparently coming from overhead, impacted on all sides, ricocheting off the wall and leaving bright orange sparks in their wakes. There were not gunshot sounds whatsoever, just bullets pounding in on either side of them.
"They're using silencers," Hutch hissed. The cave's exit was lost in the darkness somewhere up ahead. Hutch cursed, we're sitting ducks. There's nothing to hide behind. "We better move."
Starsky nodded but just as they were about to start their run, a voice echoed through the cave. Hutch looked up; he hadn't realised how big this space was. The voice sounded from somewhere up above, "Quiet but deadly. Don't you think so detective?" Marcel shouted. "Don't worry; we're all excellent marksmen… even in the dark."
Grabbing his partner by his shirt Hutch made a run for it. Keeping Starsky between him and the wall, he ducked, making them as small a target as possible. Eyes ahead and on the floor, he was running in near blindness, and had to catch his partner a couple of times as the man tripped and stumbled over unseen obstacles.
True to his claim, the lack of light didn't seem to bother Marcel's men. Hutch figured silencers weren't the only things they used, because their aim was frighteningly accurate. The firing seemed to increase; the exploding projectiles connecting with the stone wall, illuminating the place like small bolts of lightning.
A hot pain suddenly ripped through his shoulder, the force of impact slamming him back against the wall. Colliding ruthlessly with the stone, he bounced off of the surface, crashing hard onto the floor.
"Hutch! Oh God!"
For a moment he lay in silence, panting, confused as to what had happened. His shoulder felt numb and passiveness overwhelmed him, making him lay limply on the floor, unable to move.
"Hutch!"
The despair in his partner's voice cleared his mind. Was he hit? Yes, that was probably it. The son's of bitches had hit their mark, he thought bitterly. I can't give in. Come on… snap out of it. Starsky's gonna be dead in under an hour if you don't do something. You hear me, Hutchinson?
Clammy hands picked him up and he was dragged into a small passageway that led to a well-lit seclusion. When he was put down and sat pressed with his back against the wall, feeling began to return to his body. The stabbing pain relentlessly blocked out all thoughts and his face twitched in agony. Through mere slits he tried to ascertain the damage; his black pull over was covered in blood. The obvious source was a burning hole in his right shoulder.
"Shit," he murmured just as outside the little chamber shouts indicated the start off of a grim battle between Marcel's men and the rest of The Guild.
A low grunt escaped his throat. The fear of losing… losing his life… losing his partner… losing everything he cared about, exploded, filling him until he started to shake helplessly. He was a hardened man and able to handle physical pain very well; in his line of work you had to be able to give and take a punch or two. Yetto sickness or pain, Hutch wasn't such a hero, often wanting nothing more than to curl up against the overwhelming agony… and let things be.
" 'S okay, … I got ya," Starsky spoke, putting his hands on the blond's to still the trembling. He unbuckled Hutch's belt and ripped it from his pants. Then he used rags from his own shirt to try and stop the bleeding. Wrapping the belt tightly around the shoulder, he caused another moan to escape the blond's mouth.
The hands suddenly moved away, "Hutch…"
The scared voice jerked him towards the surface. Hutch opened his eyes to find the brunet sitting next to him, his head lolling onto his chest. "Starsk… stay awake!" In reflex he moved his hand up to grab his partner's shoulder. Pain shot through his body but he ignored it. He wasn't going to lose Starsky… Not now.
Starsky looked up. The tiredness that had settled behind blue eyes frightened Hutch to bits. "Hermes… did something, Hutch… 's not just the… loss of… blood. I can't… fight it."
"Yes! You can!" He squeezed the shoulder a little tighter. Cold… why was Starsky so cold? Why am I so cold?
" 'S too strong… like… poison. I can't feel… anything… no more." The brunet shook his head in a last attempt to shake of unconsciousness, and then reached for his Hutch 's hand. "I can't… hear you… speak? Hutch? Are you talking?" Fear ran rampant through the brunet's body. "I don't wanna… leave you. Hutch… don't let me…"
"Starsk, don't do this to me!"
Starsky looked down, then up again.
With a start Hutch's fogged mind registered that his friend was crying, only without the tears. Too dehydrated Starsky couldn't produce them anymore. Shocked, Hutch released the hand to put his firmly behind his partner's neck. Terrified, he pulled the half-unconscious man in. The movement made him fall back into oblivion, the pain in his shoulder migrated instantly to his lungs and he gasped, unable to quell it. He was falling… losing his grip on his own life.
And his partner was falling with him.
It was just like when Vic Bellamy had poisoned him. He was dying, losing ground fast to the priest's low voice that he kept hearing, a voice that wanted him asleep despite his fears for Hutch. He guessed it was hypnotic suggestion… whatever Hermes had done. But it was killing him… He didn't have long. Pressed against his partner's still body, Starsky shuddered to fight off the compelling darkness.
Everything he'd done so far, from Simon, to having to go on a diet, from venting his fears and frustrations on his partner, to letting his guard down on that beach so he got caught, had led up to this point.
Running Hutch down in the process. That's what he'd been afraid off. That's what he'd tried so hard to prevent… and that's exactly what happened. He'd lost all feeling in his fingers a while ago, but it didn't stop him from tightening his grip with blood covered hands, blood that belonged to his partner; blood that should never have been spilled. True regret iced over his heart as he began to understand that he couldn't save Hutch… Not this time.
Fear rose to blind panic when his body suddenly convulsed. The priest's laugh echoed loudly in his ears. Faintly he tried to fight the man's pull, if only because he didn't want Hermes to get his way. But dehydration took its toll and he drifted away on the voice of the priest that softly lured him away from his partner, and into death.
Starsky was running…
The rolling green hills in front of him beckoned. Downhill and uphill he stumbled, fighting the force of gravity that kept pulling him down. The cloudless sky above him was laced with deceptively soft music ringing in his ears, enticing him to stop, to give up, to lay down, roll over… and die.
His feet grew heavy.
Looking over his shoulder in despair, Starsky spotted Hermes following him at a leisurely pace, only three hills behind him.
The Priest's gruff voice slowed him down; the words making him feel as if he was moving through jelly. "You can run, Detective! But you can't escape me. I always get what I want, always get my prey..." The litany mingled with the music, creating a song that hammered his senses.
There was a soft tug at his heart. Hutch… he had to save Hutch.
He kept running.
When he dared to steal a backward glance again, his heart leaped into his throat; Hermes was only two hills behind him now! Reality seemed to slip as he frantically tried to figure out how the man was able to move so fast. The priest didn't even exert himself, just calmly seemed to close in with every step.
He's bigger! He's heavier than I am. It's not possible! Panic took hold. The music rang louder; the environment seeming to conspire against him as he continued running. He grew tired.
Scared, someone was scared.
Hutch, he had to get to him, had to get away from the flesh-made fear chasing him. The priest was only one hill away from him now. Terror moved him forwards until he felt the breathing of the priestly predator in his neck. He couldn't escape… There was no escape.
Panting in defeat, Starsky turned around… facing his pursuer. He stopped.
"I told you," the white-robed man spoke coldly, calmly approaching the detective. "I always get what I want."
The air flowing into his lungs scorched his sore throat that felt raw with exertion. Breathing heavily, he could do nothing else but lean on his knees. He closed his eyes as resignation set in. No way out… No way to get Hutch out.
The priest took his hands and, yanking him upright, he pulled them roughly behind his back. Cold, unmoving steel locked his wrists together, the sharp metal biting mercilessly in his wrists. He was still inhaling too deep too speak.
The priest smiled. "Your fears, your death, it all belongs to me, detective. You are mine… you always were."
Acceptance grew; fear lessened and looking straight into grey eyes, the answer came.
The priest's eyes grew large. "No. You can't sacrifice…!"
The brunet grinned, as the handcuffs fell away and warmth returned into his hands. He treasured the gift of life, the gift of love. Suddenly, he wasn't afraid anymore.
"NO! Your death is meant for me, for me alone!"
Starsky pointed a defying, angry finger at the priest, "For Hutch."
A hand was softly placed against his cheek. Hutch opened drifted back to consciousness to see Starsky looking at him. Sweat glistening on the brunet's face as he talked with a soft smile. "You're gonna… make it," he whispered hoarsely, "Promise me?"
"Starsk… we're both gonna-"
"Promise me," his partner demanded, his eyes shining clearer than they had before.
Pain flared inside him, unable to breathe Hutch gasped.
Quickly Starsky put a warm hand down on his chest, and the blond clapped a sweating hand around it. Heaving, he answered through clenched teeth, "I … promise." The hand upon his chest seemed to grow warmer. The pain lessened, Breathing became more easily. "Hey…" Hutch said surprised, " you did it?"
A smile tugged at the corner of his partner's lip. Then he gave a simple nod. "Me and thee…" he said softly… "'S just a little warmth… partner." Their eyes locked.
Remarkably, the pain in his chest and shoulder had numbed. If it was a trick of his mind or the sheer energy Starsky had put in the effort, Hutch didn't know. Buddy, you don't have that much warmth yourself… you shouldn't try and…
The brunet blinked a couple of times, then he closed his eyes. His hand tightened around Hutch's, "Keep… your… promise… Hutch." Starsky's hand started to drop as he was loosing the fight to stay awake.
"Starsk?"
His friend sank back against the wall; his hand releasing his grip until it opened and fell slack from the blond's hand.
Panicking Hutch grabbed the now cold hand with his good one that wasn't hampered by a shoulder wound, "Starsk?" he asked again, in a small voice. A fearful tear slipped when there was no answer. Desperately, Hutch grabbed his shoulder and shook it hard, "Damn you, STARSKY!" His terrified shout echoed through the hollow cave to get lost in the darkness beyond.
But the brunet didn't move again.
Oh… God… no… Frantically he tried feeling for a heartbeat… a pulse… anything. There was nothing. His fingers were cold… and numb…maybe… maybe he just didn't feel it. Maybe Starsky's blood pressure and pulse were just undetectable due to the severe dehydration. Maybe…
Tears started to clog his vision. He felt hazy… too devastated to fight… to stay awake…
Promise me!His partner's voice ruthlessly cut in, triggering his resolve, his will to live. The warmth that had filled his chest had wrapped itself around his heart, causing him to fight, and to loose bitter tears while pressing his head against his partner's shoulder.
And there he sat waiting… hanging on because of those two lousy words Starsky had pulled out of him... he had no choice.
He'd given his word.
tbc