"This is crazy. I'm going to get myself killed. Why do I listen to him? I shouldn't be taking orders from delusional, incapacitated, concussed White Knights."

Starsky limped along, grumbling under his breath and trying to dodge the hidden twigs underfoot. The going was slow and treacherous, especially when you only had one good leg.

And it was dark.

Starsky reached the car and grasped the hood with both hands, leaning on it as he caught his breath. He glanced back to Hutch, who was still propped up against the tree, and hoped that this was the right thing to do, for both their sakes. He trusted Hutch with his life, as long as said partner was in his right mind. When Starsky stepped back from the situation, he still had a little trouble believing that Hutch was sound. Sure he was convincing, but would that be enough to keep them safe?

Starsky sighed and grabbed the door handle. He was running on blind faith here.

He shrugged. It wasn't the first time.

Starsky pulled the passenger door open, hobbling backwards as he did so. Although the car had slid a little from his last attempts at starting it, the driver's side door was still smashed up against a tree, holding the car in place very delicately. The car's nose was pointed up hill at nearly a forty-five degree angle. Behind the car, the mountain dropped off steeply, the slope punctuated only by thick-trunked trees and boulders.

Dancing around the open door, Starsky threw himself onto the passenger seat as delicately as he could. The door swung shut behind him and he caught it just before it pinched his bad leg. He struggled to keep the door open and pull himself inside at the same time. At last, Starsky raised his foot high enough to pull his leg in the car and onto the floor board. His knee was screaming from the abuse as the car door banged shut.

All his struggling must have caused the car to slip, because the distinct sound of groaning metal and tinkling glass filled the air. Starsky held his breath and sat absolutely still, momentarily forgetting the pain in his leg.

After a few seconds, the ominous noise stopped, and Starsky was still alive.

He looked through the broken windshield and was pleased to see Hutch in the same place he had left him. "Thank God for small miracles," he murmured, then wiped his sweating, shaking hands on his jeans. He would not have liked an audience for that near-death encounter.

"Okay," Starsky grumbled, looking around the familiar- yet not- car. "He wants me to trust him, I'll trust him all right." Starsky placed one hand on the driver's seat and leaned over, trying to see around the steering column to locate the switch for the headlights. Broken glass crunched under his palm and he winced, withdrawing and wiping it away before continuing.

"Come on, where are you…" he muttered, stretching as far as he could without actually crossing the console and getting into the driver's seat. He wanted to stay as close to the exit as possible. At last, his fingers brushed the knob, and he smiled.

"Moment of truth…"

He turned the knob and brilliant, glorious white light cut through the darkness, blazing a trail up the side of the mountain.

Starsky sat in awe. "Well I'll be damned…" A smiled crossed his face and he leaned back, relaxing for a moment to enjoy his small victory. It was then that Starsky realized something. He had agreed and carried out this hare-brained mission of Hutch's without really expecting to succeed. In fact, Starsky could have gotten in the car and found himself in a deathtrap, hurtling down the mountain and towards certain death just as easily. Is that how much Starsky cared for his friend? Was this a defining moment in their closer-than-brothers relationship? Starsky was really willing to die for Hutch based on something he saw through a concussion?

Yes, Starsky realized just as quickly, he would die for Hutch if there were any hope at all that they would be saved.

Starsky looked through the spider-webbed glass and up at the illuminated mountainside. Hope might be all they had at the moment. The lights worked, yes, but would anyone see them?

Suddenly, Starsky remembered the high beams. He braced himself and leaned across the seat once more.

Without any warning, Starsky felt the car give way with a loud crack. He grabbed the dashboard as the Torino rolled backwards downhill, bumping and lurching violently as branches snapped and popped beneath it. Starsky's heart was in his throat, and it was filled with remorse.

I tried, babe. I'm sorry.

Just as suddenly, the car jerked to a halt. He didn't care why, Starsky simply shoved open the passenger door and threw himself to the ground, landing face first in the musty, dry leaves. His knee exploded in pain as it hit the dirt, and Starsky rolled onto his side and tried to curl in on himself until it passed. At least he was back on solid ground.

"Starsky! Come on… answer me!"

Frowning, hoping Hutch's voice wasn't as close as it sounded, Starsky raised his head and peered up the incline.

Damnit.

"Hutch!" Starsky groaned in frustration. "What are you doing?" he yelled. "Don't move!"

Hutch was now halfway between where Starsky had left him and where the Torino had come to a rest. He was collapsed upon the ground in a heap of dirty, sweaty, bloody clothes and tender-hearted partner. One hand was outstretched in Starsky's direction, the other curled tightly around his ribs. His eyes flashed in the moonlight.

Starsky pulled himself up, resting on his good knee before using his hands to get to his feet. "Stay there," he repeated, as if Hutch might bolt any second.

Hutch was too far from their 'camp' for Starsky to drag back. Hell, Starsky could barely drag himself anywhere, let alone his partner too. As he fought his way uphill, Starsky prayed that Hutch hadn't injured himself further by moving.

By the time Starsky reached Hutch, all his muscles were heavy and burning with fatigue. He spun as he collapsed and landed on his rear next to Hutch. "Hey," he said, grabbing Hutch by the shoulders and rolling him on to his back in Starsky's lap. "You tryin' to kill yourself? What are you doin' down here?"

"Saw the car…" Hutch panted. "Thought you were…"

Starsky placed a cold hand on Hutch's fever-warm forehead, and Hutch closed his eyes, relief apparent on his drawn and pale face. Hutch's pulse was racing and he was sweating, but shivers still wracked his lanky body. "How you feelin'?" Starsky asked softly.

"Ribs hurt… think I made it worse…"

Starsky's heart dropped. "Just stay still. We're not going anywhere for a while." His eyes were locked on Hutch's abnormally dark lips.

Hutch turned his head, studying a point just in front of them. "Yeah…" he nodded, then turned to Starsky. "Terry says you did good, Starsk."

Starsky smiled and looked in the same direction. Again, nothing was there. "She better be right about all this," he replied, raking his fingers through Hutch's damp hair.

"She says… we'll make it."

Hutch tensed and started coughing then, turning onto his side as fluid crackled in his throat. Starsky simply held him, powerless to do anything to calm the pain. When Hutch finally quieted, Starsky eased him back, closing his eyes when he saw the small trail of blood coming from the corner of Hutch's mouth. He needed to get Hutch to a hospital! They shouldn't have wasted time with the stupid headlights. Hutch was fading fast, his lips and nail beds slowly turning blue, and they were no closer to help than they were yesterday.

"Come on Hutch, just take it slow. Deep breaths," Starsky coaxed, watching as Hutch struggled to keep from coughing. His eyes were at half-mast, and Starsky knew he was losing him.

"'M tired…" Hutch mumbled, his teeth rattling as he shivered.

"I know babe," Starsky replied. "But you gotta stay awake. Help's coming, remember?" It was a lie, Starsky knew it, but there was always hope.

"We'll… be fine." Hutch sighed, then coughed once and a fresh trail of blood dripped onto the dirty denim of Starsky's jeans.

His eyes fell shut.

"Hutch?"

Starsky leaned forward, pulling Hutch onto his back a little. "Come on, Hutch, stay with me!"

True terror squeezed his heart. He was suddenly alone, clinging to his unresponsive partner atop a God-forsaken mountain, ironically less than half a mile from the road. The pain in his knee was gone now as he focused all his attention on the shallow rise and fall of Hutch's chest.

Starsky looked up, tears filling his eyes as he realized that his might be the end of their partnership - no, it was more than that. It was a friendship, a relationship, closer than blood. "Terry? If you're really out there, please… do something. Don't let him die… not like this." He took a deep breath, wiping his eyes, and added, "He's all I got left."

Silence echoed all around him.

He sniffed, pulling Hutch closer. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you," he whispered. He didn't know which one he was referring to, if maybe both of them.

"Dave."

He looked up at the sound of his name, and looked into the face of someone he'd never thought he'd see again. "Terry?" he blinked. "You're real?"

She smiled. "I'm not real in body, no. But I am here in spirit."

Starsky smiled, and this time, he couldn't stop the tears that fell. "I… I can't believe it. How-"

Terry stepped forward and placed a finger to his lips. "Shhh. Don't worry about that. You have to keep him fighting."

Starsky shivered at the electricity on his skin. She pulled away and he looked down. Even unconscious, Hutch was still trembling. "You told him if we did this, we'd survive."

"And you will. If you keep him alive. Don't let him give up, Dave."

"I won't."

"Thank you for believing." Terry was smiling again. Her eyes and the gold necklace around her neck glittered in the light.

"He's gotten me to believe worse, trust me." Starsky sobered, and blinked up at her. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. "I miss you."

"I know."

Starsky stared at the picture of the cat on her sweater. "I remember that sweater. You said you would never throw it away because your grandmother had sewn it for you."

Terry smiled. "That's right."

He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't see you before. I shouldn't have let one bad memory overshadow all the good ones."

"You were hurt. You were grieving. I understand."

Starsky wiped at his eyes and rubbed his hand on his thigh. "Stay with me?" It was a desperate plea.

"I must go," she replied. "Help is coming now."

"Thank you."

"You did all the work, Dave." She nodded to Hutch. "Now just make him hold on."

When Starsky followed her gaze, Hutch started coughing, fighting weakly as Starsky struggled to keep him still. He murmured soothing, nonsense phrases, gently rocking them both until Hutch quieted down, returning to a deep sleep.

When he looked up, Terry was gone.

o0O0o

"…But some car are like that, you know? Well, no, I guess you wouldn't know. That clunker you drive is so… cumbersome…We really need to get you some new wheels, Hutch. Something that when you get behind the wheel, you can just let her go. Good cars are like that. They drive themselves, you just tell them where to go."

Darkness was still draped over the mountain like a heavy blanket. Starsky leaned forward, feeling his spine pop with the movement. He had been sitting with one leg bent underneath him for hours now, rambling out loud in hopes of Hutch waking up. He pulled Hutch's bangs away from his forehead and was mildly surprised to see wide, unblinking blue eyes. Hutch was awake, but staring blankly into the trees. His breathing was steady, but a muffled gurgle still accompanied each breath.

"Hey, you in there?" Starsky asked, jostling Hutch the tiniest bit.

"I'm here." Hutch blinked and looked up at Starsky. "You… done talking…yet?"

Starsky smiled. "And here I thought you liked my insightful introspections."

Hutch's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Thanks… for bein' here," he said softly, his breath warming Starsky's calf.

"Hey, where else would I be, huh?"

Hutch tried to press his face deeper into Starsky's lap. "Help's not coming."

"Don't say that," Starsky snapped. "I turned the headlights on, remember?"

Hutch shook his head. "Can't breathe… hurts."

The resignation in Hutch's voice cut through Starsky like an icy knife. "No! You aren't going anywhere, Blintz. You're stayin' with me and I'm gonna help you fight."

"Just lemme go, Starsk."

The words stung him to the core. They were the words he'd had nightmares about, and they were more painful than he'd ever imagined.

Swallowing down his pain, he plowed on. "No can do, Hutch. I made a promise to Terry."

Hutch's brows furrowed. "Terry?"

He nodded, forgetting Hutch couldn't see the action. "She told me help is on the way. We just have to hang on."

"So… you believe?"

A warm feeling came over him as he thought of Terry, smiling and lucid and not dying on a hospital bed. "Yeah buddy, I do. Guess you could say it was blind faith."

Starsky saw Hutch smile. "That's good."

Starsky rubbed his shoulder. "So tell me about this new girl you're-"

Hutch's steady, shallow breathing was interrupted by violent coughs. He closed his eyes as the convulsions brought up more blood, and Starsky was powerless to do anything but hold on to his partner's body. "Take it easy," he instructed, but it went unheeded. The body in his lap was taut and caught in a pain so great that even he could feel it. Warm blood seeped into his jeans before Hutch finally stilled.

"Hutch?" Starsky leaned forward, worried by the shining trail of blood leaking from Hutch's mouth. Hutch was unconscious once more, but the feather-soft pulse under his fingertips reassured Starsky that his partner was at least alive.

Starsky tilted his head back and looked up at the stars. "Now would be a great time to save him," he called out, hoping someone in the heavens would hear.

"…Somebody down there?"

Starsky froze.

"Hello?"

Starsky's face split into a grin. "We're down here!" he called back, never having been so grateful to hear a stranger's voice. "I need an ambulance! Hurry!"

"Okay… 911..." The disembodied voice carried brokenly through the trees. "…Be back!"

Starsky held Hutch tighter as relief washed though him. "You hear that, Blintz? We're getting you outta here…"