The Major Incident
Chapter 15
Friday, midday.
During the past two days, Hutch had been constantly at the side of the dark haired man who was still silent in the bed. He had kept up a steady stream of comforting phrases, parroting over and over again 'Come on buddy, it's over now. Hey Starsk. Talk to me, will ya', but there had been no sign from the smaller man that he even knew that Hutch was in the room with him. The doctor had explained that Starsky's present state was one step away from catatonia. The NG tube remained in place, and in fact when the nurses came to force the nutrients down the tube and into his stomach, this was the only time Starsky showed any signs of being aware of the world.
The first time Hutch had watched the procedure, which was neither painful, nor uncomfortable, he had had to turn away as he watched his friend's body bucking in the bed, trying desperately to stop the life giving fluid from flowing. After that, he'd asked the nurse to show him what to do, and had steadily fed his partner every four hours of the two days since he'd first seen him, feeling that he alone should be the bearer of Starsky's angst.
The doctor had also told Hutch that Starsky was refusing any drugs, again becoming violent to the extent where he was causing injuries to his wounds. Food they could force on him, but their patient's charter refused the enforced administration of medication, and so Starsky's temperature had soared to 103 degrees and they could only guess at the level of pain he was in by the sweat which poured from him constantly. Hutch had explained he had power of attorney for situations when his partner was injured, but the doctors said that wasn't enough. Finally Hutch signed a waver and the nurses drew the drugs into the syringe, which Hutch then delivered into his friends IV, bracing himself for the hurt and pained look in his friend's eyes.
On that Friday. Hutch had had another one of is deep talks with Doctor Carson. 'I don't know how to reach him anymore, Doc. I've seen him in states worse that this, but he's always responded to me before. In fact on most occasions, he won't let me out of his site. I'm the same – if I'm hurt, I can gather some strength and comfort from him, because I know he's been through similar, and knows how I'm feeling'.
'That's the point though, Hutch' the doctor nodded sadly. 'You've never been in a similar situation to this. When Brigadier General Sharpe had Starsky held captive, he very carefully absented himself from all the most painful sessions, but was there at the end with water, or a comforting hand. Your friend got a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome – where he became almost infatuated with his captor. When he broke the two of you free, he killed Sharpe, and now has to come to terms with that, and the mistreatment he vested on you too'.
Hutch took a deep breath. 'Tell me what I can do' he pleaded.
Carson paused a moment. 'He's still army, even though his service should never have been re-activated. The powers that be have told me that if there's no improvement by tomorrow, we should try ECT '.
The words hit Hutch like a physical blow. 'You're telling me that even though he was electrocuted for ten hours straight, you want to subject him to still more? No way. Over my dead body!' he rose and stormed out of the room, his blood boiling at the injustice of it all and his inability to be able to do anything to help his friend. He made his way back to Starsky's room, arriving just as one of the orderlies had set a tray with Hutch's lunch down on the table.
The blond walked over to the bed and leaned over its occupant. 'Hey buddy. How ya feelin?' No response, the indigo eyes stared straight ahead. 'Starsky, its me. Come on, give me some help here Gordo'. Nothing.
Suddenly a dam seemed to burst inside the blonde's head. He turned and lashed out at the metal lunch tray, sending the contents crashing noisily to the floor. Kicking out at the inanimate object Hutch turned to the wall and banged his forehead repeatedly against the brickwork, tears coursing down his face in exasperation and anger.
'utch?' no more than a whisper floating in the air.
Hutch thought he was loosing his mind. He turned to see his partner's head had turned and the glazed indigo eyes were looking at him. Swiftly he crossed to the bed, reaching out a hand to try to cup the handsome face, but Starsky pulled back and looked away.
'Fine', shouted the blond. 'Have it your way, you stupid son of a bitch. Ya think that all that matters is you. Sat there in your own little world hoping everything will go away. Well it won't and some time soon you're going to have to face a hefty dose of reality here, coz unless you get your fuckin' head into gear, they're gonna throw another few shots of electricity through you, do ya hear me?' He sat heavily on the chair at the side of the bed, head in his hands, exhausted by his outburst and the futility of the situation.
Another whisper 'Don't want you to be here'.
'Why? Why don't you want me Starsk? Just tell me what I can do?'
'Go'.
'No. I'm not leavin'. Not till you tell me why. I need to understand this buddy'.
'I enjoyed it'. It came out in whisper, accompanied by a strangled sob.
'What?'
'When I was hurtin you……………….I enjoyed it. I knew I was hurtin' you, and I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop, coz every time I put that electric prod against you, an' saw you jerkin' on the end of that rope, somethin' inside me felt good'.
Hutch swallowed hard. 'Aw Starsk, that wasn't you buddy. That was that evil bastard Sharpe. He played with your mind babe. You know deep down that you wouldn't do that to me, or anyone else come to that. You've got to try to forget'.
But Hutch was once again talking to the side of Starsky's face, as the smaller man resumed his silent staring into the distance.
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Hutch went in search of Doctor Carson, and told the man of his seeming breakthrough with Starsky. He found it incredibly hard to tell the doctor that the man he had called friend all these years had admitted that he had enjoyed hurting him. The Doctor, however was impressed at the progress and explained to Hutch that Stockholm Syndrome would make a victim feel emotions alien to them if they thought that that was what their captor would want. 'They will do anything they can to please them, even if it means hurting, or killing the person they love the most. I've even seen young kidnap victims trying to strangle their parents to death. It's a sad reflection on the amount of damage that has been done to your friend's mind. But it is something we can work with now'.
'So you won't do the ECT, then?'
'I think that that form of therapy is probably still warranted, and I think we should still plan it for midday tomorrow, but there is nothing to stop you keeping up the fine work you are doing with him so far'.
'OK, Doc. But promise me that if I can get a significant change to happen, you won't shock him?' Hutch implored.
The Doctor nodded and simply told Hutch they would have to wait and see.
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Back in Starsky's room, Hutch once more set about the one sided conversation with his partner. There were some minor changes. Starsky did look towards him once or twice, and did not rebel quite so forcefully against the forced feeding, but there was no more talk, no conversation, and by midnight, Hutch's wounds were so painful, he dejectedly returned to his room. He laid down on the bed, pulled the sheets about him and drifted off into a troubled sleep.
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Next morning, Hutch woke early, and glancing at the clock realised he had about four hours to make a last ditch attempt at getting through to his partner. Wearily, he set off back down the long corridors of the hospital and finally arrived at Starsky's room. Bracing himself, and fixing his face into a cheerful smile, he pushed the door open.
'Hey Gordo, how's…………..' He stared uncomprehendingly at the empty bed, the sheets rumpled.
Turning on his heal he ran down the corridor to the nurses station and grabbed one of the women by her arm.
'My Partner, David Starsky. Where is he?'
She looked at him in surprise. 'Doctor Carson has him in theatre. He's been scheduled for his ECT this morning'. But she was talking to Hutch's fleeing back as he ran towards the sign marked 'Psych theatre 1' opposite.
As he pushed open the doors he could hear shouts and a commotion from the inner room. Banging the second set of doors open he was appalled at the vision before him.
His partner was laid on the operating table, stripped to his waist, His arms and legs were bound to the edges of the table and a long thick leather strap was secured across his chest. Doctor Carson had just finished attaching the electrodes to either side of the dark haired man's temples and was holding them in place with yet another strap attached once again to the table and passing over Starsky's forehead.
Hutch could see his friend's chest heaving with exertion and covered with a patina of sweat. The Doctor was issuing orders and having difficulty making himself heard as the bound man was screaming over and over again
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUTCH, HUUUUUUUUTCH!
The blond was at his side immediately, pushing the doctor unceremoniously away. Holding Starsky's bound right hand in his, he gently stroked the sweat soaked curls. 'Shhh, its OK Starsk. I'm here now. Shh, there. S'Ok buddy, I'm here, I'm here'.
Slowly the words seemed to take effect, and Starsky's body stopped its fevered thrashing. He opened his eyes a little, tears flowing down his cheeks.
'Hutch?' he whispered, his voice raw from the screams. 'Is that you? I didn't know you'd come for me Blintz. I'm so sorry'. He sobbed, each painful intake of breath racking his body as he repeated over and over again 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry'.
Hutch looked over to the Doctor. 'For gods sake, get him out of these bindings'. The doctor nodded and the two orderlies set about undoing the buckles. Once free, Hutch gathered his friend up in his arms and held the sobbing man to him, gently rubbing his back and arms, running his fingers through the mahogany curls.
'I'm so, so sorry Hutch. I couldn't stop myself. Some perverted part of me enjoyed it and wanted to keep on hurtin; you. Sharpe had me there and, oh God. I only managed to hold out for five days. Five days, Hutch. That's all it took for that bastard to break me, .so that I could have killed you'.
Hutch gently pushed him away. Looking into those beautiful indigo eyes. 'Na, you'd never do that Starsk, and I knew you wouldn't when you were…..When that son of a bitch had you doing what you did. We've been through too much together for someone like Sharpe to break you. He messed with your mind, buddy'.
Starsky looked Hutch in the eyes. 'But you were always there. Even when I was blindfolded against that wall, I saw ya. You kept me as sane as I am. You're my anchor'.
The doctor nodded to his staff to leave the two men alone for a time, sensing a crisis had been reached and passed, almost embarrassed at the strength of friendship the two detectives shared.
Hutch pulled Starsky close again. He chuckled a little and felt Starsky pull away, a questioning look in his eyes.
'I was just thinking back to when all this started, Gordo. You were having trouble with Terri's death, and I said you needed something to take your mind away from it'.
Starsky smiled weekly. 'Maybe in future I won't take you so literally, Blintz. Hey. Where exactly are we?'
And so Hutch sat back, and started the story from the beginning, glad at last to have some ghost of his friend back with him again. I know this is only the start Gordo, but welcome back.
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Epilogue.
Two weeks later
Starsky sat staring at the letter he had had from Hutch, smiling and glad he was on his way home. Over the past days, he'd had several sessions with Doctor Carter, where he had recounted in as much detail as he could, the treatment he had received from Sharpe.
Hutch had returned to Bay City four days after the ECT episode, as Starsky came to call it. During that time, they had, once again become inseparable, and had finally wangled a double room. As Hutch explained – he needed to continue Starsky's therapy.
During the four days, Hutch had explained everything that had gone on as far as he knew, and Starsky haltingly told him of his treatment at the hands of Sharpe. Hutch had at first been angry, to the point of wanting to hurt something or someone, but the smaller man had placated him. 'Hey Blintz. I got over worse things than this from 'Nam. I'll do it again. If you can forgive me, I can eventually forgive myself'.
Hutch had looked at him with eyes shining with tears. 'Starsk, there's nothing to forgive'.
And now he sat re reading the letter he had received. Apart from the news from Bay City, Hutch had included a tape of a song he had heard on the radio that morning, and told Starsky the words reminded him of the two of them. And so Starsky had borrowed a tape player and had listened.
Tides may turn, winds may blow o'er land and sea.
Where e'er you roam, the world will turn and bring you back to me.
Be brave, my wandering soul, courage is what sets is free.
Domus, domus.
Home, is a world, but so much more
Home is where the heart is.
Roam, and find your destiny
Julilate Domum.
He settled back into the pillows on his bed, Sure Blondie, I'll roam, but me and thee will never be separate for too long.
Fin.