CHAPTER 3

The church was crowded with people, the pews full with the overflow standing in the back of the room. They had come to pay their last respects to Detective Sergeant First Class David Michael Starsky. A hero's farewell with full departmental honors. Hutch let his mind wander, refusing to focus on his surroundings. It was too painful. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a nightmare.

If he just concentrated hard enough he would be able to wake up and things would be back to normal. But things would never be normal again. Starsky was gone and he was never coming back. And the pain in Hutch's chest was threatening to crush him like a vice around his heart.

A passenger's list from the doomed flight showed that Starsky had gotten on board the plane in New York City. He had been sitting in seat 14 B. It was determined that the crash had been caused by a bomb hidden on board the flight. The final report showed that the major impact of the blast had taken out sections 12 through 16, totally destroying that section of the plane and anyone who had been sitting there. Starsky's friends and family didn't even have the comfort of having a body to claim for burial. This memorial service was being held in California for his friends and fellow officers there. A second memorial service would be held in New York later in the week for his immediate family members.

Since the crash, one day had blurred into another, an endless void of debilitating grief that was slowing destroying the blond detective. Losing Starsky had caused Hutch to lose a part of himself, a vital part that could never be replaced. He found himself alone and drifting in a world that he no longer wanted to be a part of, not without Starsky by his side.

Besides the almost paralyzing grief that threatened to overwhelm him, Hutch was also consumed by a deep-seated rage, a rage that he had no outlet for. There was no perp to go after and hunt down to avenge his partner's murder. Nothing to distract him and occupy his mind by doing what he did best.

Without an outlet for that rage, Hutch turned it inward on himself, blaming himself in some obscure way for not protecting his partner. . He was already shutting himself off from his friends and colleagues, building a wall around his emotions that nobody could penetrate. He was going through the motions of living even though he was already dead inside.

Finally, the memorial service came to a merciful end. Hutch felt Huggy tugging at his arm, helping him to his feet. Eyes lowered to avoid looking at the sympathy and pity he could see in the other mourners eyes, Hutch allowed himself to be led from the building. Captain Dobey had insisted that Hutch stay with him and his wife for a few days, unwilling to let the devastated man be alone. Hutch had protested but he was quickly overruled. Too exhausted emotionally and mentally from the events of the past few days, he had reluctantly given in. In the end, he knew that nobody would be able to protect him from himself.

When they got back to Captain Dobey's home, Hutch immediately stumbled up the stairs to the room where he would be sleeping and closed the door, shutting out the world around him. Edith Dobey glanced at her husband worriedly, her dark brown eyes brimming with tears. In a soft forlorn voice she said,

"He's not getting any better, is he?"

"No…and I'm scared to death that we're going to lose him too." Dobey admitted, "Him and Starsky were just too close….I'm not sure that he can go on without Starsky. He doesn't want to."

"You still have his gun, don't you?" she asked glancing at her husband sharply.

"Yes. I took it away from him as soon as we found out that Starsky was on that plane." Dobey turned to look at his wife solemnly "But that won't stop him from hurting himself if he really wants to." He sighed deeply. He knew there was only so much he could do for the tall blond detective.

"He's already dying…." Edith Dobey said sadly "A little more each day."

"I'll try talking to him again later." Dobey promised, slipping an arm around his wife's shoulders and giving her a reassuring hug. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

"Has he eaten anything?"

Dobey shook his head "Not that I know of….nothing for the past three days."

"I'll make something and try to get him to eat. He needs to keep up his strength." Edith smiled faintly "I'll have Rosie take it up to him. Maybe he'll eat something for her."

Dobey smiled. Starsky and Hutch were both extremely fond of his six-year-old daughter, Rosie.

"That's a good idea." Dobey said agreeing wholeheartedly with the idea.

As Edith went into the kitchen to try to find something to tempt Hutch's appetite, Dobey went upstairs to his bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

At the end of that week, Hutch insisted on returning to his own apartment. The Dobeys reluctantly agreed. They knew they couldn't force him to stay with them if he didn't want to. Hutch was still teetering on the edge, barely keeping his raging emotions in check but he knew how to put up a convincing front. That was what made him such a good undercover detective. He knew that everyone was worried about him but he didn't want their pity. He just wanted to be alone with his memories and his pain. That was all he had left anymore. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not for him and Starsky.

Captain Dobey had put him on compassionate leave so he didn't have to worry about work. And he didn't know when or if he would ever return to the job. He knew that he would never work the streets again not with another partner besides Starsky. He had been disillusioned with the job for a long time. The only reason he hadn't quit before now was because of his partnership with Starsky. But with Starsky gone, the job no longer meant anything to him. He had a trust fund that his grandfather had left him years ago, so he had enough money to live on comfortably for the rest of his life without working. But, in his heart, he knew that his present lifespan wouldn't be very long.

Hutch glared at Nick Starsky as he pawed through the clothes in Starsky's closet. He had never liked Starsky's younger brother and those feelings had not changed over the years. The younger Starsky brother was brash, obnoxious and overbearing. Rachel had insisted that Hutch keep anything he wanted.. She had given him first choice over Nick, a decision that had not set well with Nicky who had always resented the friendship between Hutch and his brother.

The only items that Hutch had chosen to keep to remember his best friend by had been his guitar, his record collection, the model ships he had enjoyed building for relaxation, Starsky's camera equipment, and his favorite brown leather jacket. He had also kept all the pictures of himself and Starsky, along with several shots of Starsky by himself or with Terri.

Hutch had been surprised when Rachel had called him and told him that she was coming to Bay City to go through Starsky's things and to clean out his apartment. She had wanted Hutch to be there when she did. He reluctantly agreed, knowing that this final step in disposing of Starsky's possessions would be like a knife through his heart and one more nail in his own coffin.

Rachel had arranged for the furniture and household items to be donated to a local charity along with the clothes that Nick didn't want. Hutch had helped her to box up items and mark them so they'd be ready for pickup while Nick picked through the items his brother had collected over his lifetime. Hutch resented watching the younger man pick up various items and examine them, more concerned with their monetary value then any sentimental value.

Hutch knew that the two brothers had never been close and in Hutch's mind, the younger man had no right to anything that had belonged to Starsky. But he had the connection through blood that Hutch could never share. In his heart, Hutch knew that Starsky had considered him more his brother than Nicky ever was.

Nicky's barely concealed hatred for Hutch flared when Rachel insisted that Hutch keep the Torino. Hutch didn't try to hide his smug smile as Nicky yelled and cursed, arguing with his mother about her decision to give the car to Hutch. He knew that Nicky had been planning to lay claim to the Torino. He watched in amusement as Rachel displayed the same steely determination and stubbornness as her oldest son as she told Nicky in no uncertain terms that Hutch had more right to the Torino than Nicky did. She told her youngest son that she knew her oldest son would have wanted Hutch to have the car and that she intended to see that his wishes were carried out.

As the mother and son argued about her decision, Hutch let his mind wander to all the hours he had spent in the Torino with Starsky. He had complained outrageously about Starsky's vehicle but the truth was, that car had been a big part of who Starsky was and Hutch was grateful that Rachel had let him keep it so that it didn't wind up in Nicky's possession. Even though Hutch knew that he would never be able to drive the car again himself, he would always cherish it because it had meant so much to Starsky.

Finally, the painful process of cleaning out the apartment and getting rid of Starsky's material possessions was finished. Rachel kissed Hutch goodbye and invited him to come to New York for a visit whenever he wanted. Rachel Starsky had adopted Hutch as her son the first time that Starsky had taken him back to New York with him to meet her. And he sincerely liked the lady and respected her, even if he couldn't stand Nicky. But he knew that visiting her in New York would be far to painful for him. As he watched her walk away, he knew that he would probably never see her again.

Locking Starsky's apartment for the last time, Hutch turned and slowly climbed back down the steps. Climbing into his car, he drove back to his own apartment. He unloaded the items he had kept for himself and carried them into his apartment, storing them out of sight in a hallway closet. He would call Huggy later and ask him to pick up the Torino and put safely in storage.

Grabbing a bottle of Jim Beam from underneath the kitchen cabinet, Hutch opened it and sat down on the sofa to drink himself into oblivion. If he got drunk enough, maybe tonight he would be able to sleep without the nightmares that had plagued him since losing his best friend and partner.