Chapter 8

Starsky had slept a little better that night. The nightmares he'd been experiencing had abated and his pain was a little less. The two men had spent the rest of the evening watching television, drinking the occasional beer and resting. Hutch had even endured yet another Three Stooges rerun – anything to make the brunettes smile. They enjoyed the quietness and both relaxed a little as time went on.

As the evening wore on, Starsky had reluctantly taken the bed, whilst Hutch had once again laid down on the settee, even though his back hated every minute of it. But sleep wouldn't come. His mind went over and over what his friend had told him. He felt inadequate. He should have seen the signs that the brunette was hurting and needed help, but either he'd never really seen them, or he'd ignored them. Whichever, Hutch knew he'd let this partner down badly. He wanted to go to the hospital and face Ross. Tell her exactly what he thought of her. Tell her how much she'd hurt Starsky. Tell her everything the brunette had been through. But deep down, he knew that Ross was so sick that none of it would make a difference to her. He also knew that going to see Ross was the last thing Starsky would want him to do. And right at that moment, he would do anything to make his partner happy again. Sleep finally took him, but the dreams he had were all of the two of them in trouble, or hurting, and he woke feeling more tired than before he'd gone to sleep.

When Starsky awoke the next day, he felt fairly rested and ready to face a little more of the world. As Hutch busied himself making breakfast, he showered and shaved, careful not to get the dressing on his neck wet. They sat down to breakfast and as the brunette reached for his orange juice, he asked Hutch

'Where did you say Ross was?'

Hutch stopped in his tracks. 'I didn't buddy' he said carefully, 'Why do you ask?'

'I need to see her. Where is she?'

The blond sighed. 'She's in Cabrillo. She was a mess when they picked her up. Her lawyer had her admitted for her own protection. But why bring all that up again? Just leave her be, huh?'

But the brunette was adamant. 'Hutch she meant a lot to me. I know you won't understand this. Fuck, I don't even understand it myself. I know what she did was wrong, but I loved her, and I want to make sure she's OK and say goodbye to her properly. Can we go to Cabrillo, please? I need to do this'.

Hutch heaved a big sigh and reached for the phone, knowing that to refuse would launch another argument, and he was fresh out of energy for that right now. 'I'll ring and see if we can visit, but only if you really feel you have to. I don't think it's a good idea'.

'It's what the psychs call closure, Hutch. I need to see her', the look on the brunette's face saying that he'd made up his mind

So Hutch telephoned and made an appointment for that afternoon. As the time got closer, Starsky became more agitated and Hutch wondered whether he was doing the right thing in letting his friend go, but, once again, he knew he couldn't live with the brunette if he didn't get this chance. Eventually they got into the car and set of for the psychiatric hospital. As they drove along, Hutch had one last attempt at getting his partner to see what he thought was reason.

'Starsk, will ya just stop for a minute and think what we're doing? You've had a really bad time of this and you're weak. You've only been out of the hospital a day. Its taken you all your time to tell me just a small part of what you've been going through. Think again, buddy, please don't put yourself through this'.

But Starsky was adamant that he had to see Ross one last time, and so they arrived at the sweeping driveway leading up to the hospital's doors. Hutch gave a little shiver as he saw the hospital, remembering the last time they'd been there. He and his partner had been undercover to investigate a series of mysterious deaths and Starsky had played a patient called Rudy Skyler. He could still remember Starsky's description of being tied face down on the operating table as the good doctor had tried to use his experimental new drug on him. – why'd it always happen to Starsky?

He pushed his thoughts from his mind as they parked up and got out of the car. Starsky was still a little shaky and stiff and Hutch had his hand on his partner's arm as they mounted the steps and rang the bell to be let in.

A male nurse in a short white tunic answered and led them up the corridor and into a small interview type room. The doctor came to see them, holding out his hand as he came through the door.

'Good afternoon, I'm Doctor Michaels. I've been looking after Ross whilst she's been here. I believe you were her partner? Mr?'

'Starsky. David Starsky. Yes I'm…..I was her partner. His hand went automatically to the wound on his neck. How is she? Can you help her?' he asked, an almost pleading tone to his voice.

'I'm afraid Ross is really quite sick, as you are probably aware' the doctor looked at Starsky's various injuries. 'I'm not sure what reception you'll get Mr Starsky. Ross has been very agitated whilst she's been here. Are you sure you wish to see her?'

Starsky nodded, swallowing his fear down. 'Yeah, I want to see her. I need to see her'.

The Doctor nodded. 'I understand. I'll have her brought in, but I must insist on having a couple of nurses with her…….for your protection, you understand?'

He departed and Starsky looked round at his blond partner. 'Stay…… please?' he asked. Hutch nodded.

A minute or so later, the door was pushed open and Ross walked in, flanked by two psychiatric nurses. They paused at the door and Ross looked around her.

She was pale and the yellow wrap-around dress she wore did nothing to enhance her appearance. Her eyes were wild and she cast around, glancing momentarily at each person in the room. Finally her eyes rested on Starsky. He smiled at her.

'Ross', he said. 'It's me, David. Are you OK honey?' he took a hesitant step forward.

Her eyes cleared. 'David? Oh God David, thank God. Have you come to take me home? Please take me home David, I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry'. She walked across the room to him.

He held her as she reached up her hands and cupped his face, caressing it, rubbing her thumbs gently down his cheeks and dallying across his lips. Starsky pursed his lips and dotted gentle kisses onto her finger tips. Her hand went to the dressing on his neck. Tremulously she whispered 'I love you, David, I love you so much. Please take me home'.

He looked down into her face, forcing himself to harden his heart. 'I can't Ross. You're sick. You need these people to help you'.

No sooner had he said the words than she turned into a raving banshee, screaming and trying to tear at his face with her nails. He held her hands away from him, tears coming to his eyes, knowing he had lost her for good, and that no amount of loving would ever make her well. As the nurses came forward to drag her away from him, his hand stayed on her arms a fraction longer. 'I love you', he whispered.

But Ross was lost in her madness. She shrieked and cried as the two nurses held her. As she was lead away struggling with them, she was screaming 'I hate you, I hate you David Starsky' as loud as her voice would allow.

As the noise diminished down the hallway, Starsky slumped against the wall, slid down it until he was sitting on the ground, and put his head in his hands, sobbing, as his partner put a protective arm around him, wondering how he could turn this around.

Moments later, the doctor was back with the, seeing the state Starsky was in, he waited a while until the brunette had composed himself.

'How long is it since you were discharged from the hospital Mr Starsky?' he asked.

'Yesterday'.

'You should be resting at home' the doctor went on. 'I insist you rest, Is that understood. I know you aren't a patient, but you are just as vulnerable as Ross is right now. I could arrange for you to talk to someone if you like?'

Hutch shook his head. 'We were offered that at Memorial, but my friend wants to work this out on his own. We'll work it through, Doc. Thanks'. He looked down at Starsky, who remained sat in a ball on the ground, his forehead resting on his arms.

The doctor continued. 'Well, if he won't see anyone, at least let me give him something to help him rest. Are you going to be with him the rest of the day?'

Hutch nodded. The doctor disappeared and came back a few minutes later with a syringe. He raised the sleeve of Starsky's jacket, swabbed a small area and sunk the needle in. The brunette didn't even look up as the doctor pushed the plunger home.

'It's a mild sedative' the doctor explained. 'get him home now and make sure he rests. He'll probably sleep for the rest of today. Then you can see what tomorrow brings. Just take it one day at a time, Mr Hutchinson. One day at a time'.