An epilogue: After reading over the ending of Turnabout, I couldn't leave it alone anymore. Let me know if this works or if you think it's still not enough…
(I've always thought a good ending should leave you imagining something more but also leave you satiated.)
"Starsk?"
His voice, finally, sounded normal.
"Yeah?"
"Where exactly are we?" Hutch asked while looking around the simple, non-descript room. The bed was low to the ground, on a simple platform in the middle of the room. The lighting was soft and indirect. A sink, shower and john were around the corner, but there was no door or curtain or anything for real privacy.
"How ya feeling?" Starsky asked, avoiding the subject for the moment.
"Like I went ten rounds with a pink elephant. I think I'm finally winning."
Starsky grunted out a laugh and scratched at the bandage around his left wrist while he adjusted himself on the cot they had set up for him in the room. It was hard to try to find an area on his thigh or ribs that Hutch had not bruised when he was walloping him during his hallucinations in the car. They had blossomed into an ugly black and blue, detailing a road map the horrors of the previous night. Starsky felt like he could sleep another 30 hours. He probably would once Hutch settled down.
Hutch sat up and examined his own bandaged wrists, as if seeing the injuries for the first time. Starsky watched him from his cot, poised and ready to react yet again if necessary.
"Is she dead?"
Starsky thought he detected a misting over the blue eyes of his partner. Good Lord, after all that Julie put them through, how could he feel anything but contempt or maybe a sense of pride?
"No. Not as far as I know. They had to bring her out in a hearse though. No ambulance service out that far. Poetic justice if you ask me."
Hutch just nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. Nothing was said for a long time. Starsky felt himself doze and even thought he started to dream. But he was not so far asleep that he did not hear his partner when he laid back down or when he took in a deep breath.
"What'd she give me?"
Starsky struggled up to wakefulness. "PCP."
"Angel dust, huh?"
He yawned and tried to push himself up to sitting. "Pretty pure stuff too. Dr. Anthony said he hasn't seen a case like yours in a long time." He gave up and lay back down.
"I'm in the hospital Starsk!"
"We are, yes." He replied calmly.
"Ah, shit."
"It's not your fault. Never was. Mine either. And if I.A. can't deal with that then they can take this job and shove it up their pure as gold butts. The way I see it, it's who do you trust time. I trust you. You saved my life when Julie was sucking it away. Dr. Anthony saved our lives. Cap'n Dobey values our lives enough to say we are on vacation right now, Ken Smith." Starsky rolled over and sat up. "By the way, I'm David Michaels. Nice to meet you…" He walked over and offered his hand for a handshake.
Hutch stared at his hand for a second as if it was covered with mucus before glancing up into the bloodshot eyes of his rumpled partner. Starsky tenderly sat down beside Hutch.
He repeated, "It's not your fault."
A gentle knocking came from the door. Hutch didn't even look up when Dr Anthony walked in followed by a 5'6" slightly overweight, but not unattractive nurse in blue pants and a terry pullover. She carried a tray with a couple cups of steaming beverages and a couple covered plates and bowls, which she set on Starsky's now abandoned cot. Dr Anthony knelt down about 5 feet away from Hutch and asked him how he was feeling.
"Fine." Came the terse reply.
"Seeing anything that you know is not there?"
"Blunt aren't you doc?"
"Yep." Came the calm reply. He looked at Hutch and then his partner. "There is a difficult transition time as the hallucinations wear off sometimes. Not always. You've been through the wringer."
Hutch grunted an acknowledgement.
"Is reality back yet?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Hungry?"
"Ravenous!" Came a voice to the left of the patient. Hutch laughed and that brought a smile to everyone's face.
"Let's try to eat, and then if all goes well, my cohort here, Darlene will make arrangements for you to go home Mr. Smith." Dr Anthony said with a smile. His knees cracked as he stood up. "By the way, Darlene has worked with many people who have been through post traumatic stress disorder. She's a great resource to contact when the panic hits. Don't feel like you have to go it alone you guys. Either of you." He looked both of them in the eye to make sure they understood.
"Call me when you need me." He added as he walked out. "Darlene will be starting work with you guys today. Dobey's orders."
"What!" Two eyes fastened on the "Nurse" who had sat down on the corner of the cot.
"Still hungry? There's coffee if you're not." Darlene Pritchard smiled a knowing smile at the two who had survived so much. She just hoped each man would stick with the therapy long enough to help them recover the ability to form a lasting relationship with a woman.
Starsky was driving past the health food store wondering once again what his partner saw in fasting and barley grass when there were burritos and burgers available in this world. He took a sip of the last of his cola and pulled into the parking lot to wait for his partner to finish up inside. It had been three months since the Julie incident. Dobey had allowed them to finally hit the streets again, but they had to agree to continue with the meetings with Darlene.
Starsky didn't mind so much. Once he stopped thinking of her as a counselor and thought of her more as a garbage sorter it got easier. Sometimes he and Hutch got to talking about what was said, but rarely did it go deep. Darlene had told him early on that the better sessions would be the ones that he got the angriest, and warned him that is when the most healing took effect. He puzzled over that one for a while, but dropped it as things returned to normal.
He was thrumming his fingers on the wheel humming a tuneless tune when Hutch slammed out of the building and into the car.
"Let's go." He growled.
"What's up?" Starsk asked, firing up the Torino.
"She's got some nerve. You know, I can't believe Dr. Anthony even referred me to her. I can't believe she is even a doctor." Hutch stared out the window, fuming. "I'm so angry I could spit nails."
Starsky drove, not quite knowing what to say. Sometimes silence was the best option.
"She had the audacity, the shear audacity to imply that I was afraid of women! Me!"
Starsky leaned over to take the mike and called in to headquarters, reporting off for the rest of the day.
"What did you do that for?" Hutch asked furiously.
"She's right."
"Ah, Starsk. Not you too!"
"No think about it," Starsky interrupted. "You have every right to be angry."
"Angry!" Hutch's face took on a crimson shade. "I am not angry."
"You just said you were!"
"I DID NOT!"
"Right!"
"And I'm not afraid either!"
"Bullshit!"
"Pull over!"
"In a minute."
"Right now!"
Starsky made his way across two lanes of surprised and irate drivers to turn left and then drove another 500 feet to pull off near the beach. Hutch got out not bothering to shut the door and began to walk. His pace picked up speed as he tried to outrun the demons that swarmed through his senses and threatened to overwhelm him. And then he ran. He ran until his lungs began to burn with the chill of the ocean air. Hutch realized he could never run far enough or fast enough to escape the reality of what he had to face.
He turned around and slowly began to walk back the way he had come, willing his breath to return to normal, wondering if his life ever would.
About an hour later he wandered up to where he had bolted out of the Torino. He was not surprised to find Starsky calmly tossing stones into the waves.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself."
Hutch bent down and caught up his own handful of stones. "I'm afraid, Starsk. I've never been so afraid in my life."
Starsky turned knowing eyes on his friend and partner. "You're not alone you know."
There was so much he had to face. He was working through layers of anger, fear, disappointment and confusion about himself and his relationships. Some were his fault, some were not. It would take time, Darlene said, but he was one of the lucky ones. He had a support system to fall back on to help him work through some of these issues. He understood that now.
Hutch looked back at his friend and replied, "I know. That's how I survive."
"Me too."