Been really enjoying watching Starsky&Hutch lately so I had to do a few fics ^_^ If you like this, I have more on the way. This was just a little ficlet I did to get over a bout of writer's block.
Two Sides
A Starsky and Hutch Fanfic
They're two sides of the same coin. You just can't have one partner without the other. If one is missing the other won't rest until he's found.
A bucket of cold water jarred Starsky awake with a gasp. He tugged involuntarily at his wrists, bound behind him around a pole and shuddered from the cold.
A hand reached down and grabbed a fistful of his sopping hair, wrenching his head back.
"Rise and shine, pig. You won't want to miss this."
"Aw, stuff it," Starsky muttered under his breath as he continued to shiver in his now wet clothes, biting back a groan as his battered body protested the sudden movements.
It had been three days since the undercover operation had gone bad and he'd been hauled off to an unknown location where the drug dealers he and Hutch had been hunting for the last month had consistently beaten him, trying to figure out what he knew.
He was surprised to see everyone packing up the abandoned warehouse now though, so it looked like the operation was going into hiding.
Which meant his time was up.
His captor seemed to see he had realized what was happening and grinned, giving Starsky a mocking pat on the cheek. "That's right, Detective. Once we're done cleaning up here, it's just a matter of figuring out where to dump your body."
"Terrific," Starsky muttered. He licked the moisture from his lips as the water from his unconventional alarm clock dripped from his hair, actually grateful for the moisture. They hadn't bothered to give him anything to drink or eat for the last three days either and he was really starting to feel the effects.
"No one will find you, not even that partner of yours."
He sounded so sure of himself, but Starsky wasn't. It might seem bad now, but Hutch had always found him in the past in the nick of time and vice-versa. That was why he was still holding on even though with the abuse he'd taken he felt like laying down and just letting them bury him like they planned to do. Hutch would be there. He was sure of it.
The drug dealer smiled and kicked him in his already bruised hip before turning around.
"Johnny, I think it's time to show our guest out. Make sure you give him special treatment."
"Sure, boss." A large bruiser, the man who had been responsible for the majority of Starsky's bruises and broken bones, strode over and bent to take the cuffs—Starsky's own pair—from the detective's ruined wrists.
"You know, I really enjoyed our time together. I'm sorry it has to end so soon."
Starsky grunted as the man grabbed him by the front of his torn and blood-stained shirt, hauling him to his feet.
Starsky almost collapsed the instant he got upright, his head swimming and his body protesting the movement violently. Johnny had to prop him up with a grunt of distaste before he snapped the manacles around Starsky's wrists again, this time in front.
"Come on," Johnny grunted, "use your feet."
"Trying," Starsky muttered, attempting to grab onto the guy's jacket to keep himself upright, except his hands were numb from the manacles and he was pretty sure a couple fingers on one hand were broken as well.
Johnny simply dragged him impatiently out of the warehouse. Starsky cringed and tried to shield his eyes against the brightness of the sun.
Another man came up and grabbed Starsky's other arm. "Let's get him in the car."
It was then that a familiar sound could be heard in the distance. Sirens…
Starsky somehow found the energy to slam his elbow into Johnny's stomach, causing the man to lose his hold on him. He got in another hit with his manacled hands, and a kick to the other captor, before he was grabbed and slammed into the side of the car, the act jarring his battered body horribly.
Starsky gasped and collapsed heavily to the ground as his captors looked around at the sound of tires screeching to a halt, doors being thrown open.
"Let's go!"
"Freeze!"
Starsky recognized the voice instantly, but before he could aid his partner in any way, he was grabbed by Johnny and hauled upright again. The man's arm was around his throat and a gun was pressed into the side of his head.
"Shoot and you take your buddy with you," Johnny snarled.
Hutch skidded to a stop and held his hand out to the other officers behind him, halting their advance.
Johnny smirked, pressing the gun hard against Starsky's temple. "We'll just be going now, if you don't mind."
The moment before Johnny started dragging him backwards, Starsky met his partner's eyes. There was an unspoken okay that went between them and Starsky counted silently to three before he jerked to one side.
A shot rang out, and Johnny cried out as he spun around and hit the side of the car, blood pouring from his shoulder. The other goon made a run for it and was quickly tackled and cuffed.
"Get them out of here!" Hutch snapped to the other policemen as he ran forward, grabbing Johnny and cuffing him. The man howled in pain as the blond detective made no point of taking it easy on his wounded shoulder. After he had passed Johnny off to one of the uniforms, he was instantly on his knees next to Starsky who had managed to prop himself against the side of the car, somehow still able to stay up.
"Starsk? Hey, you okay?" He was fiddling with the cuffs, and finally they clicked open, Hutch's face dark with fury as he saw the state of the skin around Starsky's wrists where he'd tried in vain to free himself for three days.
Starsky hauled his head upright, panting slightly, an arm wrapping protectively around his cracked ribs as he studied his partner's face while Hutch made his familier, gentle examinations, cataloging every hurt his partner had sustained. At the same time, Starsky was performing a similar check on Hutch. The blond had dark circles under bloodshot eyes, telling that he'd had about as much sleep as Starsky had the last few days, and he also was sporting the pale, gaunt look of someone who had been living off of nothing much more than coffee for several days. Honestly, besides the cuts and contusions Starsky had suffered, the two didn't look that much different.
But that was to be expected. As partners, their pain was a shared experience. One of them didn't suffer without the other also suffering just as much, and sometimes, maybe even more.
"Starsky?" Hutch called again, taking his face between his hands, worriedly. "Hey!"
"Hey," Starsky finally said, mustering a tired, but genuine smile. "Knew you would come."
Hutch huffed and rubbed a hand through Starsky's damp and blood crusted curls before he realized Starsky was collapsing. Starsky hadn't really realized it himself at first. But he'd lasted as long as he could. His body was giving in on him now because he knew he was safe and he didn't care. He knew he had someone to catch him as he fell.
Captain Dobey finished up his paperwork for the day and left the precinct, planning on stopping by the hospital on the way home. He hadn't seen Starsky since the rescue and drug ring bust earlier that day, but from the sound of Hutch's voice he was pretty bad off. Enough for the hospital to want to keep him for a couple days, although that was apparently more for his dehydration than the injuries themselves.
Dobey sighed as he walked through the all-too-familiar doors and found the nurse's station to get the room number. He had a folder of paperwork for Hutch and needed his report by tomorrow, but he was sure the detective would be able to work on it here. After all, he wasn't going to leave. Not after the last three days of hell he'd had.
Dobey shook his head. Those boys. He loved them like his own sons, but he was sure they were responsible for most of his grey hair. The last three days had been rough, not just for Starsky, but also for Hutch who hadn't slept and had hardly eaten, searching ceaselessly for Starsky.
He said a brief prayer of thanks that both of his best detectives were now safe. At least for this week. Knowing them like he did, he was sure it wouldn't last long.
When he got to the room, he knocked lightly on the ajar door but got no answer. Frowning, he pushed inside and even he had to smile at the sight that greeted him.
Starsky was out, snoring past a broken nose, bandages or bruises covering most of his visible skin. Hutch was sitting on a chair pulled up to the side of the bed, hunched over, his arms folded next to Starsky's shoulder, pillowing his head as he slept, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world.
Dobey couldn't help but be softened at the sight and looked around, finding an extra blanket folded at the foot of Starsky's bed, which he shook out and draped around Hutch. Neither of them stirred at his intrusion, and he quietly backed out, taking the paperwork with him.
It didn't really matter if it was done first thing tomorrow anyway.