Disclaimer: This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit. It is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders of the rights to Starsky and Hutch.
Mahalo to all of the wonderful people in my life, who continue to encourage, support, and inspire me in my endeavor to write. Sorry it took me so long to post a new chapter, but I was off island attending a conference on Maui.
Warning: "Silent Witness" might be considered a dark tale and contains some graphic scenes and foul language that may be offensive to some readers. This story also revolves around a paranormal/metaphysical genre; if this is not your cup of tea, then please refrain from sipping.
oo Silent Witness oo
CHAPTER ELEVENThursday, late evening, (nearing midnight)
Dobey looked to the silent brunet who sat on the front passenger seat of Hutch's battered car, huddled under the warm blanket from the paramedics. The flashing lights from the ambulance and police cars eerily lit up the night. A crowd of onlookers stood on the other side of the street, whispering softly amongst themselves as the forensic team worked behind the hedge to gather any evidence they could. The coroner's wagon had already left with the body of the murdered girl, and the stout black man scrubbed his short, wiry hair, looking around until he saw the tall blond walking over to his partner with a paper cup. The police captain made his way over to the car.
"Hey buddy," Hutch said gently, concern for his partner evident in the soft blue of his eyes, "How you holding up huh?" The blond offered the cup to the dark haired detective, who waved his hand slightly, silently declining the proffered cup.
"I was doin' better," he sighed, "So what're we gonna tell him?" Starsky nodded towards their rapidly approaching captain.
Hutch looked over his shoulder, and then turned back to his quiet partner. Starsky looked so worn and ragged. So much had happened, since his partner had come out of the hospital just yesterday morning. By right, the brunet shouldn't have been out here in the cold night air, still damp and shivering from the downpour they had been caught in.
His mind flashed back to his partner holding the murdered girl against his chest, weeping silent tears of remorse, as the guilt ate away at his soul. The blond sighed heavily, his heart aching for his friend, both of them knowing and dreading the drill their captain would be putting them through before the night was over.
Hutch dragged his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead as he thought about what to do. Looking at his partner, the blond knew that Starsky wasn't able to deal with all of this just yet. The brunet looked almost "fragile" sitting there, huddled under the blanket, and Hutch had to resist the urge to bundle his curly haired partner up and race for home, barring the doors against the world so that his friend could heal and recuperate from all the horrific things that had been recently bombarding him. "Don't worry buddy, just leave Dobey to me." Hutch said gently, protectively laying his large, warm hand on his partner's shoulder.
Starsky drew in a shaky breath and sighed deeply, his body trembling slightly, "'Kay," he said softly, his eyes lowering to his bloodstained hands that he clenched in his lap. There was so much weariness and vulnerability in that one whispered word, and yet, there was also so much trust, as the brunet willingly allowed his blond counterpart to shoulder the burden of responsibility, that Hutch felt a lump grow in this throat; and he reassuringly squeezed his partner's shoulder and turned to face his captain.
The large man huffed as he finally reached the car. He eyed his silent detectives with a frown, "Well? Somebody want to tell me what's going on here . . . and how the hell you two got wind of this before anyone else?" The black man looked from the blond to the tired brunet, as he waited impatiently for an answer. Dobey frowned when he gave the curly haired detective the once over. Starsky looked like crap!
"What the hell are you doing here Starsky?" Dobey gruffed, "And dispatch said that you called this in Hutchinson . . . what are the two of you doing here clear across town? I want some answers, and I want them NOW!" the captain demanded brusquely.
"Alright Captain," Hutch soothed, holding his hands up in surrender, attempting to unruffle his captain's ire, especially after seeing his partner slightly jump at Dobey's loud voice, "There's no need to shout, we're right here . . ."
Hutch glanced at his partner, who still had his eyes lowered to his hands. He could feel the exhausted waves of despair and defeat rolling off of his friend and his first instinct was to protect his partner. The blond knew Starsky wasn't ready to talk about this . . . especially with Dobey. How could he, when he could barely deal with it himself? And if Hutch gave his statement tonight, then everything would be written down in a file, and soon everyone in the department would know about Starsky's newfound "talent." Hutch could just picture it now . . . the gossipmongers by the water fountain, the whispers, the stares, the jokes about his curly haired friend being the next 'Harry Houdini.'
'No,' the blond thought determinedly, putting Starsky through all of that was not an option, and yet, falsifying records was something Hutch had never considered doing in all of the years he had served as an officer of the law. It was certainly a quandary they were in! The blond looked back at his captain, feeling those bloodshot eyes digging into him, "W-Well Captain, it's like this . . ."
"They were trying to help me." All heads turned as the new voice quickly interjected. Joe Collandra stepped quietly into the tight circle, "I um . . . I had another one of my visions and I told Starsky and Hutch about it. Since they were home, they indulged me, and we followed up on one of my "hunches." When we found her, it was already too late and the guy who attacked her got away." Joe said calmly, sticking out his hand to the large black man, "Joe Collandra."
Dobey's eyes widened as he recognized Collandra, the psychic from the Haymes abduction case years ago. The captain knew that his boys had found that young girl in time because of this man's valid visions and he could suddenly understand why his detectives would be open to looking into one of Joe's visions, especially when they were off duty. Dobey shook the psychic's hand, "Yes I remember you Mr. Collandra, I'm Captain Dobey and I'd like to thank you for all of your help in solving the Haymes case a while back."
"Not at all Captain," Joe said cordially, "I hope I haven't gotten Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson into any kind of trouble here tonight . . . I'm sorry we were too late to help the girl."
"Me too . . . me too . . ." Dobey said sadly. The captain looked over at Starsky, concern for the weary brunet made the black man frown, "Well, it's late, and your partner looks beat," Dobey said to Hutch, "Why don't you take him home and get some sleep yourself. You can come by the station tomorrow to fill in the report."
"Yeah," Hutch said softly, eyeing his silent partner, "I'll do that . . . thanks Cap." The blond quickly walked around to the other side of the car, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, thankful for Joe's quick intervention that saved him an explanation, and Starsky, his reputation.
-.-.-.-.oo0oo.-.-.-.-
Hutch looked over at his partner who stared quietly out of his side window. They had just dropped Collandra off at home, and the brunet had crept back into his silent "cave", miserably huddled against the door, vacantly staring at the darkness outside, his mind already a million miles away . . .
The blond looked again to the road, wondering what he could say to make his friend feel better. Hutch knew Starsky was probably blaming himself, shouldering the guilt of that young girl's death, seeing in his mind's eye; the brunet's anguished face as he glimpsed the girl from his vision, for the very first time, bleeding out and dying in the here and now. Hutch glanced over again at his partner who still hadn't moved from his slouched position.
"Hey buddy," Hutch said gently, using his voice to comfort and soothe, "Wanna get a bite to eat? You hungry?"
"Nah," the brunet whispered, never bothering to look at the blond, his gaze riveted to the darkness outside his window, "Jus' tired . . . take me home huh?"
Hutch snorted softly, feeling his partner's sadness, his almost overwhelming sense of defeat, "Sure buddy, we'll go home together . . . okay?"
At this, the brunet slowly turned to look over at his blond counterpart, "Hutch . . . ah . . . if you don' mind . . . I think I kinda wanna be alone tonight . . . jus' need some time to think . . . ya know?"
Hutch glanced over at Starsky, seeing his cobalt eyes fixed expectantly on his face, looking deeper into those blue depths, to see the sadness and pain that lay beneath its surface. The blond intuitively knew his friend shouldn't be left alone, not after everything that had happened, and yet, Hutch had been partners with the brunet long enough to understand his friend's way of thinking and dealing with problems.
Starsky was someone who sometimes needed his space, especially when he was hurting or troubled about something. For the most part, Hutch respected that and never pushed his own expectations on his partner; he knew that Starsky would eventually come to him when he had first reached some resolution and understanding on his own. Starsky just needed time to deal with all of this . . . time to reflect, to resolve and make peace with the anguish in his heart. Although the blond didn't necessarily agree with the brunet's methods of coming to terms with issues, he usually honored it.
But this time though, the circumstances were so strangely unusual, that Hutch wasn't sure if leaving Starsky was the right thing to do. Indecision and confusion must have been evident on his face because the brunet suddenly grew rigid.
"Please Hutch . . ." Starsky whispered, almost begging with his eyes before looking away again, waiting for his partner's decision. Wanting . . . no, needing Hutch to understand his need to be by himself. He could still see in his mind, the tear running down from the corner of the dying girl's eye and it tore him up inside . . . if only he had acted sooner . . . they might have caught that bastard who did this. Starsky braced himself, waiting for an argument from his blond companion and was surprised when none came.
For a while they drove in silence until Hutch pulled up in front of Starsky's apartment and cut the engine. The street was quiet and with the exception of the dim streetlights, everything was dark and shadowed. The blond detective turned quietly in the seat to face his silent partner. Hutch waited for the brunet to say something, but when Starsky just quietly sighed and opened the door, Hutch leaned over and grabbed on to his partner's wrist. "Hey buddy, just remember I'm here . . . you don't ever have to do this on your own . . ."
Starsky turned to look over at his partner, the softness in the pale blue eyes nearly doing him in. The brunet swallowed, fighting back the tears that wanted to come, his dark blue eyes shimmering from the glow of the streetlights, "I know Hutch . . . I know . . ." Starsky said softly, "I'm jus'. . . I'm jus' tired I guess . . . jus' gonna take a shower and get some sleep."
They both knew that what he had just said was bullshit, but Hutch nodded anyway, and slowly released the gentle grip he had on his partner's wrist, "Call me . . . if you need to talk . . . or if you need . . . anything." Hutch said, leaning over even more, as the brunet stood on the pavement outside his place.
Starsky stooped over to look his partner in the eye, a slow lopsided grin appearing, "I'll call ya . . . first thing in the morning after I get up."
"Yeah, you make sure to do that pal," Hutch grinned back.
"And you make sure to haul your ass over to the station to fill in that report or Dobey'll have your hide." Starsky warned.
"Our hides, buddy . . . our hides." Hutch corrected, and he smiled when he heard the soft snort from the brunet, as he shut the door of the car. The blond watched as the dark haired detective wearily climbed the stairs to his place and let himself in, waving as he closed the front door. Hutch shifted the car into gear and slowly drove away, unaware of the dark figure who also watched the brunet's ascent, making sure he kept to the shadows, as he watched the light go on in Starsky's apartment.
"You're too late . . . again Starsky, too late . . . again!" he hissed into the shadows, as the chilly night air dissipated his soft, sibilant voice.
To be continued . . .
