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.

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. I would hate to spoil someone's fun.

oo Silent Witness oo

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Friday, late evening, nearing midnight (Old Canyon Road, an abandoned church)

The rough tugging on the ropes that bound his hands woke him from the darkness of his troubled sleep. He groaned as his arms were loosened and released from behind his back, the pain and tingling radiating all the way up to his aching shoulders, as his blood began circulating once more throughout his numbed extremities. He could feel the hard concrete beneath him; its soothing coolness against the side of his hot face drew him further towards consciousness. He felt disoriented and confused, feeling the sudden painful cramping in his mid-section as he swallowed down the nausea that wanted to spew forth.

"Wake up Polaris," the voice sneered in his mind, Simon's voice. The brunet's long, dark lashes wearily lifted, as bewildered blue eyes blinked several times to clear away the residual grogginess that made his head spin. He felt so weak, his body heavy and lethargic, refusing to respond to his brain, even as he commanded it to sit up. He could hear his ragged breathing, sounding loud to his own ears, as did the beating of his heart.

He gritted his teeth, as pain seared into his stomach once more. He dragged his arm across his gut and curled his aching body into a fetal position, as he tried to ride out the brutal cramping. "We are now one, Polaris, the triangle is now complete." Marcus' voice reached out across the distance, calmly worming its way into the weary detective's mind.

Starsky lay still, his body tightly curled as pain racked his insides. He felt nauseous and weary, while a part of him tried to resist and mentally 'push' Simon from his head. He could hear the snickers of Marcus in his mind, even as he heard the chuckling from Luke who stood above him. Unable to rid Simon from his head, the dark haired detective gave up the struggle for now; his mind began to drift.

Luke knelt down next to the hurting man, and stroked back the damp curls from his face, "Still defiant, though broken you may be . . . such courage." There was a sense of admiration in the disciple's tone and his voice grew softer, "Give up your willful disobedience and open yourself, Polaris, to my master's will, for we are now the 'Trinity' and our journey together has started," Luke whispered softly, his touch almost gentle, as Starsky closed his eyes, breathing heavily, his dark lashes looking like smudges against his pale, clammy face.

He could hear both voices at the same time as they bombarded his senses. He felt overwhelmed and dizzy, unable to focus as the voices continued to coax him into submission, his gut clenched once more and he gasped, feeling despair fill his soul, he mentally drifted away, as Marcus continued to rape and violate his mind, while Luke continued to stroke him, his flesh trembling at that vile touch.

He drifted . . . reaching out to the one person who could make him feel better . . . the one person who held the other half to his soul. He could 'feel' him now, the golden warmth of his partner's love ensconced his violated self, and he took refuge in that nurturing golden light, his mind vaguely registering the frustrated anger and dark rage of both Marcus and Luke for they sensed his "escape" as he once again mentally eluded their dark and loathsome grasps. A slow smile tipped the corners of the weary brunet's mouth, as he imagined the soft blue of his partner's eyes. "Hu-Hutch." Starsky whispered, his airy voice lost amid the chanting that started up once again . . .

-.-.-.-oo0oo.-.-.-.-

Cabrillo State Penitentiary, lock down ward (nearing midnight)

Hutch waited in the interrogation room at the prison, a dingy room with a long table and several chairs, a sickly yellow bulb dimly illuminated the room and reflected against the dark window. Hutch looked at his image reflected against the shiny darkness of the window glass, noting his haggard appearance, and he slowly dry washed his face.

Dobey had to pull some strings to get him into the prison at this hour, but when the captain called Starsky's place to inform his detective that the lab findings were inconclusive; Hutch had told him about Collandra's vision of Marcus's involvement with the brunet's abduction. The rotund captain had promised to do everything within his power to grant Hutch an audience with that madman tonight.

Hutch sat quietly as he waited, his mind drifting to his partner, as worry and anxiety filled his heart once again. He remembered what Collandra had said about Starsky being beaten and forced to drink some unknown liquid, and that thought filled him with helpless rage. The blond detective lowered his head into his hands as despair filled his heart.

"Hu-Hutch . . ." the pain-filled voice whispered brokenly, almost eerily into the quiet stillness that permeated this place. Hutch suddenly lifted his head and looked around the small room. He would know that voice anywhere. It was Starsky's.

He could feel his heart begin to beat rapidly with anxiety. He could "feel" his partner needed him now and it tore Hutch apart knowing he couldn't get to his friend. 'Oh God Starsk, hang on buddy, please just hang on.' Hutch prayed silently, wanting to comfort and hold his partner, "knowing" his partner was reaching out to him.

The blond looked at the dark window, seeing his own reflection staring back at him, the dim light causing his golden locks to shimmer and glow, almost like a halo of some sorts. 'Like a lousy, guardian angel,' 'the blond scoffed silently, feeling lost without his partner, feeling angry with himself because he was unable to protect Starsky when he knew the brunet needed him desperately. Hutch startled and looked behind him, as the door to the room was suddenly yanked open.

Two guards escorted Simon Marcus into the small room, and pushed him roughly into the chair facing the blond detective. Hutch clenched his fists under the table to refrain from tearing into the bearded man, who stared at the blond with a smirk on his face. Hutch took a breath in, to control the rage and frustration that rose up in him, masking his turbulent feelings behind a mask of calm indifference.

The blond looked up at the guards, "You can wait outside. I just have a few questions for him." Hutch waited until he heard the door close behind him, never taking his glaring, ice blue eyes from the man who sat calmly across from him.

To Hutch, Simon Marcus looked virtually the same as when they busted him almost five years ago. His hair was longer, his beard bushier with streaks of white running throughout that tangled mess, but his eyes had that same vacant stare, like he could see straight into someone's soul. It was unnerving. The blond detective was about to speak, when Marcus spoke first.

"I dreamed we would meet again," the cult leader spoke calmly, "Dreamed you would start another quest, as you searched for your completer and that you would die, as your partner even now is dying."

Hutch took a deep breath to still the trembling in his limbs at the words from the madman. He closed his eyes briefly, seeing Starsky huddled on the garage floor, his head near the wheel well of the Torino, as his life's blood poured out from the four holes in his back. 'If Starsky should die . . .' Hutch fixed his ice-cold stare on Simon Marcus, steeling himself against the mental games that Marcus was so proficient at, angry with himself for betraying Starsky with his morbid thoughts. "Where is my partner?" the blond softly demanded.

Simon snorted gently, a smile breaking out over his face, "As with all heavenly bodies, he lives in the House of God. Worry not, gentle knight, he is with the faithful . . ." Marcus tilted his head and looked carefully at the blond detective, "And you, though white you once were, tarnished now you be . . .and the power of love is not as pure, as once it was. Yet . . . cupid's arrow may still fly and pierce the heart of those we cherish

. . . proving once again that love exists, and is the supreme power over all."

Hutch lowered his eyes guiltily to the table top, seeing the hurt look on his partner's face in his mind's eye, when he walked in on Kira and himself that day so long ago. 'How could I have done that? How could I have trampled on his feelings when he told me that he loved her?' Hutch quickly looked back at Simon who smiled knowingly, and the blond sat up straighter, knowing he had to bolster his confidence and fortify his spirit if he wanted to deal successfully with this lunatic.

"Simone knows everything . . . and Simone never lies . . . never lies . . ." Marcus whispered across the table, causing Hutch to shiver imperceptibly, as he flashbacked to the conversation they had years ago . . . a conversation that almost mimicked what was going on in the here and now . . . tonight . . .at this very moment.

Hutch dragged his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily, "Tell me where Starsky is."

There was a long, heavy pause as Marcus stared calmly into the angry, pale blue orbs. "He is everywhere. In a desert of scorching heat, on a mountaintop where the cold winds blow, in a canyon of old, where the flame of the sun burns down upon the Lord's house where the faithful once worshipped, only to leave, abandoned forevermore . . ."

Hutch could feel himself losing it, as hot rage boiled to the top. He was tired, sick of games, frustrated with worry, and he had reached the point where he wouldn't be playing "Simon Says" any longer. Simon's calm voice as he spoke in riddles, ignited the spark of anger that Hutch had been trying hard to suppress. The blond quickly reached across the table and grabbed Marcus from the front of his shirt, dragging the cult leader across the table, kicking the chair out of the way as he pinned the madman against the tabletop, seeing an image of himself in the window from his peripheral vision.

"Now you tell me," Hutch growled, closing his eyes to his angry reflection, as he tried to calm his racing heart, he raised his pale lashes to stare directly into Simon's bearded face, "You tell me . . ." he repeated in a calmer voice, "what your bastards have done to my partner!"

Simone raised a finger to the cop, though his body remained pliant and nonresistant, "You must never strike Simone . . . never strike Simone," he repeated calmly as if speaking to a young child. Hutch took a deep, calming breath, although his eyes were shone like frozen ice.

"If you don't want me to beat the fuck out of you and kick you down like the dog that you are, I suggest you tell me where your freaks are keeping my partner!" Hutch demanded, roughly shaking the cult leader for good measure.

Simone Marcus smiled, his eyes gleamed with mirth, "That is all I have to say. Start on your quest brave knight, before your friend partakes of his last sip for even now, he lies dying as we speak . . . that is all I have to say." The madman grinned eerily.

To be continued . . .