Well, folks here it is, the epilogue of "White Nightmare". Thanks to all of you who kept encouraging me to complete this story. Thanks for all of your reviews and emails. You kept me on the right track, even if it took me a long time to get back into this story, thank you for sticking with it.

Special thanks as always, to the Usual Suspects, a great bunch of ladies and each one a fantastic writer, or poet, in her own right and more importantly, a wonderful friend. ((HUGS!))

Epilogue

Hutch watched his partner sleep. Just sleep this time and nothing more. He put a hand to his own bandaged and stitched head. He had gotten off 'lucky' with only hairline fracture in his skull and a serious concussion. He also had narrowly missed requiring surgery for a subdural hemorrhage. A second x-ray had shown that the spot on the film they had been concerned about was not there. They took another to be certain. Hutch was beginning to wonder if he would soon be getting cancer from all of those x-rays they were taking of his head. He had other aches from his fall as well. His whole right side was a mass of bruises. Moving was painful, but he hid that fact as best as he could.

Starsky was improving and in a lot of pain from the frostbitten areas of his body. That too was a good sign. Doctor Montgomery had informed them that if he did not have pain in those areas, then amputation was a certainty. They had been elated. The doctor cautioned them that amputation was not out of the question yet. It could be months before they would be sure.

Starsky had taken the news in stride, but Hutch was sickened by it. He silently berated himself that he hadn't found his partner quickly enough. And though Starsky's life was no longer in jeopardy, his ability to return to police work was still up in the air.

Hutch could feel his head start to pound with pain and his vision blurred for a moment. He put his right hand to his eyes, pressing at his temples with his thumb and middle finger to ease the pain there.

"You okay?"

He quickly put his hand down and reached out to grab Starsky's hand, which was reaching in his direction. That hand looked hideous; the frostbitten digits were now swollen and dark with dying skin near the fingertips and around the nails. Hutch took it carefully into his own hand. "Nah, 'm fine."

"Right. Is it time for your meds yet?"

"Starsky-"

"Don't 'Starsky' me, I'm a convalescent here. I can't get outta bed ta chase down a nurse for ya… though I wouldn't mind tryin', did you see that one? Candy… Sandy… whatever her name was, she's somethin' ta behold. I do love ta watch her walk out that door." Starsky's dark eyebrows arched wickedly as he smiled.

"Starsk, there ain't no way you're gonna be able to do anything about it. You're stuck in that bed for a while yet."

Starsky's grin widened "I don't have ta do anything but lay here… she could do all the work." He winked.

Hutch laughed. "Yeah, I think you're right. Me first though."

"Hey, my gate don't swing that way." His partner frowned at him.

"That's not what I meant, mush brain. I get first dibs with Candy/Sandy."

"Na-uh! I saw her first!" Starsky suddenly stopped and a slowly turned Hutch's hand over. "What's this?" he pointed to Hutch's right hand pinky finger.

Hutch looked down at the now-healing small rip in the skin on his finger, near where it connected to his palm. "It's nothing… "He frowned at it for a long moment. "Musta gotten it when I fell." He stared at it a long time; feeling that he was forgetting something very important. He shot a look at Starsky's left hand. The rings were gone. They had been taken off before his skin warmed up. That was done so that they wouldn't cut off his circulation as the digits swelled. He shook his head, dismissing the strange notion.

"What?"

"S'nothing"

"I know that look. It's something. What is it?" Starsky wheedled.

"Just that I guess I had some weird dream after taking that tumble on the step and knocking myself on the head. S'nothing." He shrugged.

"Huh, you had a weird dream? I should tell ya the one I had. I was in this lumpy field, tryin' ta pull lumps out and when I did, they turned inta people… First, I pulled a little redheaded girl out and a few others… one lump that I pulled on pulled back and I slammed inta the ground. Now that's a weird dream." The brunet nodded once firmly. "Bet ya can't top that."

Hutch could feel the line between his eyebrows deepen. "Did one of those lumps have blond hair?"

It was Starsky's turn to frown. "Come ta think of it… I think so… no… maybe… I donno… It's just a weird dream s'all." He shrugged and shifted positions in the bed.

"Yeah, weird." Hutch stared thoughtfully at his pinky. "Really weird."

"So… what was your weird dream?"

"Nothin'" seeing a determined look on Starsky's face, Hutch relented. "Oh, my dad was chasing me and I hid from him."

"Why was he chasing you?" Starsky sat up a little straighter in bed, clearly interested.

'S'nothin' Starsk. He didn't need an excuse and I don't wanna talk about it, okay? It's just a dumb dream."

"Huuuutch"

"Not gonna talk about it. It's history. Hey, let's watch some TV." Hutch got up and turned the television on.

"Don't change the subject. I wanna know why your dad was chasin' ya…" he stopped and stared at Hutch for a second, "what the hell are you wearing?" The brunet frowned, as he looked his partner up and down.

Hutch could feel his face heat as he blushed. He pulled at the bright lime green and orange polka dot shirt and striped pants. "I- mine are at the Laundromat… were… at the Laundromat… can't find 'em now. I-I went back for them; they were dirty, sweaty… after all that digging in the snow. I wanted to wash them and didn't have another set. Got these at the Goodwill store." He said defensively.

"I hope they paid you a lotta money ta take 'em, otherwise ya got ripped off." Starsky chuckled. "Ya better find somethin' else ta wear, or I'm gonna have a seizure." He mock cringed and squinted as he looked away.

"Shut up! It's not like I have a choice-" the blond pointed his right index finger at his partner. The phone rang just then, interrupting Hutch's defense of his apparel.

"Hello?... Who is this?... What?... What channel? …Hello? Hello?" Hutch stared at the receiver.

"Who was that?"

"Anonymous caller, he said we should watch the news tonight on WCAL." The blond got up and changed the channel on the TV, then headed back to Starsky's side and sat on the edge of his bed.

The new came on; they saw nothing special or out of the ordinary until a report by Berry Brockman came on. Hutch felt his hackles rise at the sight of that man. "Brockman…" he snarled angrily at the screen.

"Down boy" Starsky cautioned, "He's on TV and not in this room."

"I wish he were here." Hutch pounded his right fist his left palm with a loud smack.

"Shhh, let's watch, you said the caller wanted us to see something, and this must… be… it." Starsky slowed and then stopped speaking as he focused on the television.

"Berry Brockman here with an update on that big collision on Big Top Road, Troy, roll that footage."

Only what came on was not footage of a collision. It was footage of Berry pushing Hutch down some steps. The footage was jerky and at a strange angle. The film was probably from a small handheld camera, like an eight-millimeter. There was no sound. The scene changed unexpectedly from Hutch tumbling down the steps, to Berry placing a pillow over Starsky's face and pressing down. The film stopped abruptly and a sign popped onto the television screen 'Sorry! We are experiencing technical difficulties.'

The two detectives stared at the screen for a second and then shot a look at each other. Hutch dove for the phone.

WCAL's newsman, Berry Brockman, was about to find himself in a whole shit load of trouble.

XXXX

Davenport, Iowa

A young mother smiled as she watched her daughter drawing a picture. The bright red ringlets bounced as her head moved with her efforts. She smiled wider as a little pink tongue popped out the corner of her mouth, a sure sign that Maria was really focusing on her task.

Several minutes later, Maria finished and proudly held it up. "See mommy? See what I drawed?"

She looked at her daughter's picture, though crude, she could clearly make out a man with dark brown, curly hair and blue eyes holding a little redheaded girl in his arms. "Honey, you got your daddy's hair color wrong, he had red hair, just like you."

Maria rolled her eyes. "That's not daddy."

"Who is it?"

"That's the angel that saved me."

"Angel? But he doesn't have any wings."

"Oh mommy, not all angels have wings."

The End.