Chapter 20

Starsky slept fitfully that night. He dreamed of tall, thin men, haunting voices and feelings of being trapped. Several times during the night, the doctors came back to check on him, telling Hutch that although the brunet's physical condition was improving nicely, his mental stability was still in question. Reluctantly the blond had to agree. His partner's outburst when he once again mentioned Edgar Fisher worried him a lot and Hutch had vowed to himself that once daylight arrived, he'd contact Beth again and ask her if she could help Starsky some more.

About midnight Traff whispered to Hutch that he was going to leave and go back to the apartment for a shower and some shut eye. Hutch smiled wearily, waved him off and went back to the hard little cot in the corner of the room to grab some sleep himself before tackling his partner again in the morning. As he led down, Hutch closed his eyes and the sounds of the hospital dimmed into the background as he drifted away to encounter his own dreams.

Sunlight flooded the room when the blond finally awoke. For a moment he blinked blearily at the shafts of light and passed a hand over his eyes as he groaned quietly and rolled his stiff back off the bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress for a second or so, stretching his arm carefully in front of him to avoid jostling his injured left side. With a quiet hiss, Hutch got up and padded over to Starsky's bed, amazed when clear indigo blue eyes turned to regard him levelly.

'Hey buddy. How long have you been awake?' the blond asked.

'Dunno. A while. I was thinkin'.' Starsky's voice sounded a little stronger, although he still rasped like a rusty saw cutting through wood.

'Thinking of what?' Hutch asked as he pulled the chair up to the side of the bed and eased himself down onto it.

'Things….us….me and what I did to ya. Shit, I remember it Hutch. I remember it as clearly as if it was yesterday. I remember the look in your eyes when you went down and I remember that look of pain on your face before you passed out. But I don't remember what made me do it. That's what's eatin' me. I have no defence for what I did. I know I meant to do it, but at the same time I knew it was wrong and I shouldn't. It was like I was watching my own hand squeeze the trigger an' I knew I was doin' it and yet I couldn't stop it. There was this little voice inside my head screamin' at me to stop, but I couldn't. Does that make sense? Does any of this make sense?'

The blond bowed his head and sighed. 'Very little makes sense any more Gordo. The only think I know for absolute sure is that I don't blame you for any of this. None of it, you hear me. This is not your fuckin' fault and no-one is ever gonna convince me that it is.'

Starsky shuffled round in the bed until he could face Hutch while still resting his head on the pillow. 'Hutch, you're gonna have to deal with it. I have no defence, so there aint gonna be a trial. I'm goin' down for a very long time and there're things I'd like you to do for me, if ya will.'

'I'm not talkin' about this Starsk. I can't talk about it. You aint goin' nowhere, got that? And you certainly aren't goin' to go back to jail' the blond muttered, his eyes refusing to meet his partner's piercing gaze.

Gently Starsky put out a hand and rested it on Hutch's knee, amazed that the blond didn't pull away from his touch. It was the first time he could remember wanting, or being courageous enough to want physical contact with his partner in weeks. His carefully built up wall of self preservation was crumbling fast. In its place was panic, terror and anger at his situation, and most of all fear that he'd lost the one truly great friendship he's ever had. But instead of pulling away, the blond covered the slim strong hand with his own honest square one.

'Blondie, you've got to face it. There's no alternative an' I aint gonna fight this. Just let me do this my way huh? I can't tell you how bad I feel, an' this aint self pity. This is just me, tellin' it like it is. I need you to sell my place, I won't be needin' it no more. After that, you can do what you want with the Torino. She's getting' to be an old lady anyhow so pretty soon she'll be in your beater league. You might even decide to keep her….'

Hutch tried to speak past the huge lump in his throat. 'Don't. Don't do this partner. We're gonna handle this one way or another and there's no way I'm gonna let you take the wrap for something that's not your fault.'

Starsky's eyebrows knitted together. 'Hutch….buddy…'

Hutch put his hand up. 'Don't "Hutch buddy" me. This had got to stop Starsk. I spoke with Beth and she tells me she thinks you were hypnotised…..that you still are. I'm not gonna tell you who by, you'll only get mad again and I think that's part of the hypnotism too. Let me talk to Beth again. Let us help you….please?'

'How can I still be hypnotised? I'm here speaking to you aren't I? Could I do that if I was still under someone's mojo?'

The blond shrugged his shoulders. 'Who am I to say? I'm not an expert, but Beth is, and you seem to like her. She certainly likes you.'

'She does?'

'Uh huh. She came to see you while you were still out. She wants to help buddy.'

Starsky smiled shyly. 'God knows why.'

'Yeah, I can't think either' Hutch grinned. 'Will you let me ring her?'

The brunet closed his eyes and nodded wearily. A small bloom of hope started up in his chest. Unable to contemplate the future if she couldn't help and with memories of Rafferty's face leering down at him, Starsky nodded. 'Fine. I think you're clutching at straws, but you can call her if you like.'

'Uh huh. I like! Be right back buddy.' Hutch got up stiffly from the chair and limped to the door. 'Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back.'

That afternoon and with the doctor's permission, Beth came by the hospital and walked into Starsky's room. The woman smiled at him, relief in her eyes as she saw the drips had been taken down and the handcuff had been removed from the man's wrist.

'Well don't you look better?' she said as she pulled up a chair by the bedside.

'Feel better' Starsky admitted, watching the smile that Beth had for Hutch too. The blond smiled back at her and Starsky stowed his questions down for later, knowing there was something going on between his partner and his shrink.

'Good. Has Hutch spoken to you about our conversation?'

'He said you thought I was still hypnotised. How can that be? I don't feel like I'm doin' anythin' crazy.'

'You aren't Dave. But you could still be under the influence. Dave, do you promise to try and fight your feelings for a while if I tell you something?'

'Fight my….. what do you mean fight my feelings? What's my feelings got to do with anythin'?' Starsky asked, his heart beginning to pump a little faster.

'I mean, whenever someone mentions a certain name, you get angry….defensive. I want you to fight those feelings while I try to explain something to you. I want to give you some more of the sodium pentothal that we tried in my office. Just a small dose to begin, so that you relax a little. Can I do that?'

'I guess so' the brunet looked over at Hutch. 'Are ya gonna stay?'

'If you want me to buddy, course.'

Starsky nodded and watched intently as Beth drew a small amount of the colourless fluid into her syringe and injected it into the muscle of his arm. A moment later, the familiar, slightly sickly feeling of the drug took him over and the brunet rested his head back on the pillow.

'Are you feeling it?' Beth asked

'Yeah.'

'Ok. I want you to concentrate on my voice Dave. Just my voice and if you feel angry, I want you to tell me right away. Do you understand?'

'Yeah.'

'Dave, the man called Edgar Fisher hypnotised you. Do you remember that?'

Immediately the name was mentioned, Starsky started to get a creeping feeling in the pit of his stomach. 'Edgar wouldn't. He Edgar…'

'Think past it Dave. Let it move on. Listen to my voice and let your feelings pass you by. Edgar Fisher hypnotised you because you were investigating him for the murders of the children at the home. Listen to me. Listen to my voice' Beth urged as she saw the brunet's hands ball into fists. Starsky's jaw muscle worked as he fought for some control and slowly his fists relaxed and his breathing calmed. Beth too relaxed.

'Good. That's good Dave. Now I want to give you some more of the drug and I want to find out what's been happening to you. Will you let me do that?'

Again the brunet nodded, the pull of the drug on his weakened system being too big to fight. 'Yeah.' He felt another bee sting scratch on his arm and the feelings of warmth and relaxation increased so that he felt heavy and even the thoughts of opening his eyes was almost too much effort. As though from a great distance, he heard the woman's voice talking to him.

'Dave I want to take you back to the first time you had a telephone call in the evening during your last case. I don't want you to fight the memories, but if they get too bad, I'm gonna pull you out of them. Is that ok?'

Starsky swallowed, his throat felt dry and his lips large and uncoordinated. It was an effort to speak and for a brief moment his mind went back to the last time Beth had used the drug on him. Then Rafferty had sent his friends for him. Then he'd been hurt and ended up in the hospital. His breathing deepened and a moan escaped his lips.

'Dave what are you thinking about?' Beth asked quietly.

'Guards…..Rafferty…..he's waiting for me. He's in the cell when they….oh God he's gonna make me…..no, not again, please not again. I can't…'

Beth raised troubled eyes to the blond who was watching intently. She knew where that particular memory was heading, but that was a whole different issue that Starsky would have to deal with later. She raised her voice a little.

'Let it pass Dave. Watch it and let it pass. I want you to go back to the phone call. You're in your house and the phone rings.'

'Yeah….phone' Starsky mumbled drowsily. His eyes were closed and his breathing was more regular, his voice thick and heavy.

'Tell me what happens next. The phone rings and…..'

'Phone….um, yeah, phone rings. I get up and pick it up. Say H'llo.' The brunet's eyebrows drew together in concentration and his hands clawed at the sheets on the bed. 'It's…..a man. He says my name an' I ask him who he is. I hear him kinda laugh and he asks me why I'm a cop…..I um….why I'm a cop….' The curly haired man's chin crept down to rest on his chest and he stopped speaking for a moment until Beth prompted him gently.

'Keep with it Dave, you're doing well. He asked why you were a cop.'

Starsky took a deep breath and his eyes flashed open for a moment before closing again. 'Yeah… said it was tough…. I said yeah an' he…..he……I don't remember. Shit I don't….. he said…..' hands clawed into balls against the sheets as Starsky fought to retrieve the memories buried deep. By his side, Hutch shuffled closer and Beth rested her hand on the brunet's arm.

'Dave relax….move on. Concentrate on the name. Did he give you his name?'

'Ummm, name? He um….said I shouldn't tell anyone…..shouldn't tell anyone he called…..our secret…..not to tell. I… don't……can't.'

Again Beth intercepted. 'Listen to my voice Dave. Listen to my voice and remember. Give me a name. He's told me it's ok for you to tell me. He says it's not a secret any more. Tell me his name.'

Starsky's face registered confusion. 'Not secret? Not….he said…..said. It was….' Sweat started to bead on the brunet's forehead and a trickle ran down the side of his face to be absorbed by the dressing on the side of his neck. His hands clawed again at the sheets as he fought with his internal programming and finally his lips worked at forming the word and one name was forced from his lips.

'EDGAR' he yelled into the darkness and then lay back, panting on the pillow. Hutch snarled the name as though echoing it.

'Edgar Fisher. I knew as much!'

Starsky was still struggling with his memories and Beth saw that he was exhausted and weakening fast. She reached up and touched Starsky on his shoulder.

'You've done well Dave. I'm going to count backwards to one and when I do, you'll relax and sleep and when you wake up you'll feel rested and well. Three, two, one and sleep.'

The brunet's eyes closed, his lashes laying against flushed cheeks as his body relaxed. Beth looked up.

'Does that answer your questions? Dammmit, Edgar Fisher! The author of that book. Shit Hutch! I spoke to him about Dave. He knows!'

Hutch smiled grimly. 'Its ok honey. I'm here to watch his back, and I'm gonna be phoning our Captain. Within hours, the whole Bay City PD is gonna be hunting Fisher down. Aint no way he's gonna get back at Starsky now. You did well girl'

'Tell me that when he's behind bars and Dave is free again.'

'Can I tell you over a candlelit dinner instead?' the blond asked as he rose and kissed the woman on her cheek.