The Major Redemption

Chapter 5

The MO was the same. The body was found at the stern end of deck seven, although this time, there were signs of a struggle before the victim had been strangled. Starsky and Hutch had made their way down to deck seven as soon as Starsky had recovered control of his stomach. Alex had met them in the stairwell and was with them now as they looked down at the body, pale and vaguely blue in the dawning light of day.

'Its just the same as last night' he was saying. 'He's been strangled and left and there are cuts in his chest'.

Hutch was bending over the body of the mid thirties blond man, examining the gashes on the chest. Again there were three distinct cuts, this time two parallel lines, with a third joining them at the bottom. Very like a crude letter U. He looked over to his partner, who was standing a way away from the body, ostensibly looking for any clues on the deck. Getting up, Hutch moved over to the smaller man. Up close he could see Starsky was shaking and pale, his breath uneven, as if he had run a race. He looked into those indigo eyes and saw only pain and hurt, The brunette running every possible bad scenario over and over in his mind

'Hey, Starsk. It's not what you think. It wasn't you'. He put his hand out to give a little comfort to his friend, but Starsky ducked away, angrily pulling his arm back out of reach. Hutch tried again, but ended by talking to his partners retreating back, as Starsky bolted for the open doorway.

Going reluctantly back to the crime scene, the blond cleared with Alex for the body to be moved to join it's companion in the morgue. Hutch went quickly in search of the brunette and found him sitting on the edge of his bunk in their cabin. He looked down at his partner, noticing the drooping shoulders and the ragged breathing. Starsky looked up at Hutch, his eyes dark blue full of pain and fear.

'Ya wanna tell me whether I sleep walked last night?'

Hutch swallowed carefully. 'Em, well, I saw you coming back into the cabin, but I don't know where you'd been, buddy'. Seeing the look of terror on the smaller man's face, he hurriedly went on 'You could have been out in the corridor, or on the top deck. You don't know and neither do I, so let's not second guess this shall we?'

'Yeah. But there's the possibility I was on deck seven, and you know it'. Starsky put his head in his hands. 'Jeez Hutch, I'm just not safe any more. Sharpe had me ready to kill yo back then If I can try to do that to the one man I love more than my own brother, what the fuck could I do to a stranger? Oh God, what do I do?' His voice cracked and he lay back on the bunk, his back to his friend. The blond could see by the shivers running down the brunette's spine that Starsky was fighting to control his emotions. He knew better than to touch or console his friend at times like this. After years of developing his 'Starsky sense', he knew to back off and leave his smaller partner to find his own level.

Hutch sighed heavily. 'We carry on today like we're a couple of vacationers, which we are, and tonight, we'll take it as it comes, OK?'

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

During the rest of that day, Hutch had had a persistent headache as he watched his partner trying to relax and enjoy the sun. It tore at his heart strings to see the smaller man in so much pain. As if he hasn't been through enough, with Terri's death, then Sharpe, and now this. I wish I could help ya, more, buddy. They tried to enjoy the sun, but Hutch was tense as he watched Starsky's body never once relax, the muscles continually bunching in his shoulders and back as evidence to the internal struggle still going on.

As night fell and they once more started to get ready for dinner, Starsky's mood became even darker and finally he asked whether Hutch would mind if he had his meal in the cabin.

'I can't face goin out tonight' he had explained. 'You go, if you want'.

'No, I'm bushed' the blond agreed, 'dinner here is fine'. He headed over to the cabin telephone and made the necessary arrangements. And so room service had delivered two trays, and the two men watched the television in their cabin until nearly midnight. It was an old black and white film 'Reach for the Sky' and Hutch, knowing how his friend enjoyed retro films, hoped it would lighten his mood. Finally, Hutch got up and stretched. He went into the bathroom and got himself ready for bed. Coming out of the small bathroom, he stopped in his tracks.

Starsky sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the handcuffs in his hand.

'What're you doing with those buddy?' Hutch asked carefully.

Starsky looked up, a look of such loss and confusion on his face that Hutch felt a lump rise in his throat, his breath hiking up a notch.

'I can't trust myself to go to sleep and not sleep walk. And if it is me…..'

Hutch sat down next to his friend. 'Starsk, it's not you, it could never be you. I know that, an' you know...'

'Thats just it Pal, I don't know fuck any more' that smaller man spat ou in a strangled cry.

Hutch moved a little closer. Genty he tried again. 'Just put the cuffs down and get ready for bed'.

But Starsky became more agitated. 'Hutch, you can't watch me all night. You're more tired than I am. I worry about you Blintz. You're not sleeping because you're watching me. And you're not telling me that just a little bit of you isn't worried that I have turned into a raving psychopathic night time murderer' he shushed as Hutch started to reply.

'I've made my mind up. Just cuff me to the bed. Then you can get some sleep and I can rest easy knowing you're sleeping. And if there's no body in the morning, well, we got our answer', the last coming out in a pained whisper.

Hutch was silent. He was torn between doing what the brunette wanted and telling him not to be so damned stupid. But Starsky was right. There was a tiny bit of him that had that niggling doubt. No one knew what damage had been done to his mind during those five days in Guatemala. Even the doctors were unsure. What made it worse was the anger Hutch felt towards himself, for not believing in his friend implicitly. Is that because there's a chance Starsky is doing this, or is it because he strung you up and electrocuted you for three hours, and you can't forgive him for that?

The anguish must have shown on the blonde's face, because the brunette took matters into his own hands. He stripped off his tee shirt and shorts, but on his pyjama pants and sat back down. Snapping the cuffs onto his right wrist, he lay down on his back, looking for a suitable anchor point. Seeing the light fitting above his head, he raised his arms up threaded the cuffs through the loop of metal of the bracket, then once again looked back at his partner.

'Will ya just do it, Blintz, please' he pleaded.

With a heavy heart, Hutch leaned over the smaller man, grasped his left wrist and snapped the cuff closed on it. Looking down at his partner, seeing him bound by his own hand was almost more than he could bear. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

'Your arms'll go to sleep before you do' he said. 'At least let me sort your pillows out'. He took the pillows off his own bunk and wedged them under Starsky's back and neck, so that the arms held above his head no longer put as much strain on the brunette's back and shoulders. His partner still looked uncomfortable, his chest splayed, so that Hutch could see the various scars he carried beneath the forest of hair on his chest, the flat tanned abdomen pulled taught Unable to cope with the view of his partner stretched out that way (God, you're a sick bastard Hutchinson), he turned away, turned off the light and got into his own bunk..

There was an uncomfortable silence, before a barely audible 'Thanks Hutch. G'night'.

Hutch buried his face in his pillow to stop the noise, as the tears fell unbidden. 'How's it come to this Starsk. God. How's it come to this?'