Part 3 – Chapter 38

For the best part of the first week at Pine View Clinic, Starsky spent part of every day in the hospital part of the building, in a small room with Beth. At first they talked, nothing more. Beth watched for the trigger points when suddenly an unbidden pain would lance through the curly haired man's head and he would grit his teeth, sweat his way through it and fight to try to remember his past. On occasions small snippets of information would come back to him. To Starsky, they were insignificant although painful, to Beth, they were proof that the conditioning and the hold Edgar Fisher still maintained over the cop could be broken.

Hutch liked yoga and meditating and power shakes.

Starsky preferred red wine to white.

Hutch enjoyed the great outdoors and camping.

Starsky's aunt had always lived in Bay City.

Hutch had once been sick with a plague – That memory was one Starsky didn't chalk up as insignificant. That was a memory that he relived in great detail - the blond's head on the white pillow, his skin the colour of the linen. 'This aint no f fun. The game is Hutch is dying….' It wasn't just a fleeting memory, he could remember the words and Hutch's urging him to "Now get outa here" and he could feel the panic welling up inside him at the thought that he might loose his partner.

Starsky hated linguini with clams and veal piccada. Now that one, neither he nor Beth could explain.

Hutch had once dated a girl called Gillian.

The memories were for the most part blurry and indistinct and Starsky came away from most of the sessions feeling weak, weary and dispirited. Beth told him he was doing well and that he was beginning to fight back, but when he went back to the room and discussed his "progress" with his partner. Starsky seemed to have very little to show for his toil.

The days fell into a pattern. Therapies were in the morning. The afternoons were taken up with exercise, either in the clinic's well equipped gym and pool, or out on the hillside, walking with Hutch, or sitting quietly watching the blond as he expertly cast his fly over the water and reeled in his empty line time after time. As the week wore on, the rest, the good home cooked food and the company of his partner started to show on the brunet's body. He started to put on a little of the weight he'd lost and his skin regained the healthy olive brown tan he'd habitually carried.

Hutch too was beginning to look a little better. Although still worried about his partner's mind, the blond was happy to see that Starsky was once again beginning to look well. Over the first couple of days on the mountain, and despite the heat, the flaxen haired cop had kept his shirt on while he'd been fishing. Eventually Starsky asked him why and shyly Hutch said he didn't want his buddy to see is scars in case they brought back the wrong sorts of memories.

'Aww Hutch! You've seen my scars often enough. Take your shirt off and enjoy the sun.'

'Yeah, I've seen your scars and they don't bother me at all, but…'

'I know. You didn't shoot me. You didn't give me the scars. Hutch, don't ya think I feel bad enough about 'em as it is without you having to broil yourself alive to hide 'em from me? For God's sake, just strip off and enjoy yourself.'

And so the blond too was regaining his golden tan and the two men were as relaxed as they could be, but hanging over their heads in the background was the constant knowledge that Starsky had not yet rid himself of the spectre of Edgar Fisher. The more Starsky sweated and worked at remembering, the more Hutch felt bad for destroying the only tape that might have been able to help his partner.

As the first week rolled to a close and the second week began, however, there was a new urgency to Beth's treatment. Fisher's trial was only 7 days away and still Starsky was in no position to give evidence. Judge Webster had stipulated that Starsky submit himself for treatment, but it appeared the good Judge had no concept of how difficult the brunet's rehabilitation would be. After a particularly gruelling session, Starsky came back to the room under a cloud.

'How'd it go buddy?' Hutch asked, as he usually did after a session.

'More of the same. I'm getting' nowhere fast, an' I'm sick of remembering what my favourite colour used to be, or what you like to eat for breakfast. That's no use to me! What the fuck am I doin' here?'

'Getting better partner. You're doin' great!'

'Stop it. Just shudup will ya? I'm not doin' great and it don't help me when you tell me I am. I'm fucked. My head is fucked and I can't stand this place any longer' Starsky's voice rose in volume.

'Beth's doin' everything she can. You've just got to give it time. I'm here for ya.'

The brunet whirled, his temper finally at breaking point and he lashed out at the only person it was safe enough to lose it with. 'Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I just want to be ON MY OWN. You're meant to be my partner, not my Mom or my nanny. You tippy toe round me and try to make the right noises like I'm a kid you have to humour. Get outa my hair Hutch. Just gimme some space huh?'

Hutch tried to hide the hurt in his eyes, but the words stung despite the fact he knew how frustrated Starsky was and how much the brunet was hurting. 'Is that what you want?'

'Yeah. Fuck off and give me some space' Starsky yelled, his face now red with anger. He turned and bolted from the room, heading down to the gym, leaving Hutch white faced and shaking in the bedroom. Anger welled up in the blond too. It was unfair. Life was unfair. After all these weeks of worry and anguish, when he never gave up hope that he'd find his partner alive and then finding Starsky only to realise that he'd found a stranger. With a feeling of panic welling up inside him, Hutch grabbed for his car keys and he too ran from the room, down the stairs and out to his car. He got in, slammed the door and gunned the engine, setting off at such a speed that he left a trail of rubber on the driveway. Hutch drove like a demon down the drive, out of the clinic grounds and along the road back to Bay City. He needed normality if only for a few hours. He needed friends around him and he needed to relax and laugh and maybe get just a little bit drunk. So much in haste was he that he didn't see the sunlight sparkle off the lens of the binoculars hidden in the woods, or he may have stopped to investigate. As it was, the blond didn't stop until he was well on his way down the mountain, when he slowed the car, wound down the window and let the cool breeze cool his scalp.

Back inside the clinic, Starsky made it down to the gym, stripped off his sweater and got onto the treadmill. He set the settings to a medium paced run and inclined the tread until he was running uphill, and then he went for it, taking out every ounce of frustration and hurt on his body, pushing himself to the limits until he was forced to stop, his breath rattling in his throat and his head pounding. He hit the off button and jumped off the device, hanging over the handrails like a rag until his breath had calmed and his legs felt once again able to support him.

Damn. Why did he have to have such a temper? Why did he have to take it out on the only man who'd stayed with him through thick and thin. And then a terrifying thought struck. He'd shot Hutch once. Had he been angry enough back in his room to have done it again, if he'd had a weapon to hand?

Throwing a towel round his neck, and with his heart in his mouth, Starsky pushed his way out of the gym and found his way down to the hospital wing. There he looked in through some of the doors and finally found Beth as she was walking out into the corridor. She looked at her patient, taking in the sweat soaked tee shirt and the drops of moisture beading on the chocolate coloured curls.

'Dave? What is it?'

'Beth, please, you have to help me. Please just do something. Help me get this memory thing back. I can't live like this….I….its destroyin' me. Please? Do something.'

The woman ushered the brunet into a side room and gently pushed him down onto a chair. 'What's this all about? I only saw you an hour or so ago.'

Starsky put his head in his hands. 'I lost it with Hutch. I told him to go and that I needed space. I feel trapped. I'm not getting anywhere. I'm not…. It's not fast enough. I need to remember and I can't. Help me?'

Beth knelt in front of the brunet and put her hands on his shoulders. 'You're scared, and frustrated. Hutch will know that. Did he go?'

'Dunno, I didn't stay around long enough to find out. Hell, I've messed things up again. I…. Beth I need you to be straight with me. Am I dangerous still? I tried to kill him once. Would I do it again?'

'No honey, you wouldn't do it again. That was outside influences at work, nothing to do with your memory, and those influences aren't here any more. You're no more a danger to him than he is to himself. But we can step up the pace of your treatments if you like? We were having good results with sodium pentothal before, How would you like to try that again. Maybe that's a way forward?'

'Anythin'. You can stick a block of C4 in my head if it'll work. I just want things to be right again. But I have no idea if things'll ever be the same between us… I was a bastard with him.'

Beth smiled encouragingly. 'He'll understand. He's that type of guy. We'll start the new treatment tomorrow huh? Now go and get some rest. It looks like you could do with it.'

Starsky nodded and stood wearily. He made his way back up to his room and showered, feeling the strains of the past couple of hours flood away with the water down the drain. Washed, clean and a little more relaxed, he flung himself down on the bed, wishing that Hutch were in the next room instead of MIA and in minutes Starsky's eyes had closed and he was asleep.

'It was perhaps three hours later when the phone by the side of his bed rang and stirred him from his dreams. Instantly awake, Starsky reached for the receiver and jammed it to his ear. 'Hutch? Is that you buddy?' he said quickly.

The voice on the other end of the phone was familiar but in a sickening, slimy sort of way. 'No David, this is your other friend. Do you remember me?'

Starsky fought down the tide of nausea and closed his eyes. He wouldn't listen this time. He wouldn't. Fight it Davey, fight it.'

'I've missed you David. I've missed our little chats. Have you missed me?'

'No…I…..I….no' the brunet stammered.

'Aww, such a shame. And we were such good friends. You'd do anything for me before' Edgar's silky voice continued. 'but then things got in the way. You didn't follow my instructions did you David.'

The brunet could feel his free will slipping away like sand though his fingers. He rubbed his hand through his hair taking a hold f a bunch of curls and tugging painfully, desperately trying to put down the phone but it was as though his hand refused to obey him. 'I'm sorry' he heard himself say.

'And so you should be. I gave you specific instructions David. Can you remember what they were?'

'Swim…. Keep on swimming till I can't swim no more' Starsky's voice took on a zoned quality.

'And yet here you are, alive and well. What do you remember David. Has your memory returned?'

'No….don't remember nuthin.'

'Well that's good. At least you followed that part of my instructions. And now I need you to do something else for me. Will you do that?'

'Yeah.'

'Good. The police have my tapes David. They have the tapes I made of our conversations and I want them back. I want you to get them back for me and I don't want you to let anyone stop you David. Can you do that for me David?'

'Yeah. Get the tapes, don't let anyone stop me' Starsky muttered.

'And you won't mess up this time?'

'No.'

'You'll do exactly as I want, no matter what?'

'Uh huh?'

'Then go David. What are you waiting for? Go to the police station and get my tapes and bring them to me. Go now. Right now. Don't stop.'

In a daze, Starsky stood, laying the telephone down on the table rather than hanging up. He walked to the door and put his hand on the handle, Edgar's words ringing in his ears.

Get the tapes. Don't let anyone stop you. Don't let me down again.

With those instructions engraved in his mind, the brunet walked out into the corridor, knocking over the orderly that was coming to serve him dinner.