Chapter 13 This one is for Jan in VA, who wanted to know what Oswaldtwistle was like. Thanks sweetie

When Hutch woke up, the sun was streaming through the window and he felt warm and relaxed. He tried to move in the bed, but found the sheets pinned down around him. Looking to his side, he saw a host of mahogany curls resting on the edge of the bed.

Starsky had never meant to fall asleep, but after his talk with Sam, he'd felt tired and washed out. He'd just put his head down on his hands for a moment, but sleep had overtaken him. Hutch reached out his hand and gently ruffled the hair.

'Hey sleepy head' he said quietly.

Starsky woke and raised his head. 'Hey Blintz, you're awake! How're you feeling?'

Hutch let his head rest back on the pillow. He groaned. 'Like shit! Someone want to tell me what's gone on' he said. 'One minute I was getting into bed, the next, I felt like the top of my head was blowing off'.

'You were running a high temperature and your leg was all swollen and purple. Sam called a doctor and he's fixed your leg'.

'Yeah, how?'

Starsky grimaced. 'Ah…..well, he's cut the stitches and cleaned it all out and given you a shot. And now you have an open hole in your leg…….but it's clean, buddy, it's clean'. He paused, wanting to make it all better somehow, but not knowing where to start.

'Hutch, if you hadn't been looking out for me, you'd have taken your pills and you wouldn't be sick now. I'm sorry. Fuck it's all my fault'.

Hutch was feeling way too tired to cope with all this right now. His leg still hurt, but not as much as the previous evening. He felt spacey and tired. He wanted his old Starsky back. Just for a little while, he wanted to be the one that was comforted, the one who didn't need to try. But the one person that could help him through this was still fragile and needy. He knew he needed to tread carefully, knowing a wrong word now would tip his partner over the edge. But Hutch also knew that the way he felt at this very minute, he may say something wrong anyway. He was between a rock and a hard place.

'Starsk, I know you're hurtin' and I know I should be there for you right now, but, I need a little time, buddy. Just a little time to heal, then I'll be OK'. He said it so gently, but the look in the stormy blue eyes was more then he could bear.

Starsky looked like he'd been hit. His whole demeanour changed as he seemed to shake himself. 'Sorry Hutch. I know I've been a pain. Just rest and get well, OK? Can I get ya anything?' He passed a glass of water to the blond. 'Doc says ya have to drink plenty. You need any pain pills?'

Hutch hated himself for the hurt he heard in his friend's voice. He had to harden his heart. He had to get himself well as quickly as possible, so that he could go on caring for the smaller man, but he needed just a little space in order to heal.

He drank the water. 'No, I just need to sleep, I think. You OK Gordo? It's not that I don't care, ya know I do. It's just……….'

'It's fine. I'm fine' Starsky said, a little too quickly. 'I'll be here. Just rest. I'm here'. He smiled, but it was a brittle smile. He knew he'd asked so much of the blond. He wanted to shut down and let the pain wash over him, but the guilt he felt now at pushing too hard was almost more than he cold cope with.

Hutch closed his eyes, partly to rest and partly to shut out the accusation he thought he saw in the cobalt blue eyes of the man who needed him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Within a quarter of an hour, Hutch had drifted back off to sleep, his golden head a little cooler against the pillow. Starsky had wedged another pillow under the blonde's leg, raising the wound up slightly, and the position seemed more comfortable. He rested easy.

Sam came back into the room a little while later, watching quietly as the brunette gently stroked the blonde's hair from his forehead. That one man could do that to another without it seeming effeminate or 'gay' amazed her. She'd never seen two men so closely bonded and it touched her to her very core. And yet both men exuded a masculinity and sexiness that was also overwhelming, the pull from Starsky's eyes especially was sometimes more than she could bear, and she'd had had to look away on more than once occasion.

She walked over to the brunette now. 'How is he?' she asked.

Starsky jumped as she spoke, having been lost in his own thoughts. 'Oh Hi Sam. He's sleepin'. He woke a while ago and I got him to drink some water. He seemed a little better'.

She smiled. 'And how are you? You haven't had any sleep. You must be bushed'.

He turned his sad eyes to her and sighed. 'Yeah, I am, but I don't want to leave him'.

She nodded. 'I can sit with him for a while. Why not go and get some rest?'

He stood and stretched, easing the kinks from his back. 'I could do, but I don't wanna go to bed. I need ta get out, ya know?'

'Well, you could take Bobby for a walk. If you follow the path by the side of the house, it'll take you up onto the moors. There's a little lake and woodland up at the top, and the weather's perfect'.

Starsky looked doubtful. 'Don't want ta get lost' he said lamely. 'I'm a city boy. Not used to all this outdoor stuff'.

She laughed, a musical sound. 'Well, if you get lost, just follow the dog. He knows when it's his tea time – he'll come home then. Enjoy. You might find you like it!'

The brunette took a last look at his sleeping partner, rubbed the arm gently one last time and left.

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He found Bobby down in the kitchen, curled up in front of the big range oven there, basking in a puddle of sunlight shining through the window. He bent down and stroked the silky ears and the little dog opened a big brown eye and regarded him, expectation in his expression.

'Ya wanna go for a walk?' Starsky asked, as the dog got up, stretched and wagged its tail. The brunette followed as the dog made for the open door. The sunlight stabbed at his eyes, too bright after the dimness of the interior of the house. It smelt warm outside, the sun baking the grass and garden surrounding the house. Starsky found the path Sam had spoken of and set off up the hill.

It was steep and the sun was warm on his back. He watched the dog investigating the hedgerow, sniffing at grasses, pushing his nose into each clump of flowers. His tail wagged non-stop as he kept up his investigation, sometimes lagging behind, sometimes running on in front as the brunette kept a steady pace.

By the time he reached the crest of the hill, Starsky was breathing heavily, causing that familiar dull ache in his side, where his cracked ribs were healing. The path was uneven and the going tough as he watched every step, careful to place his feet safely. He looked up and took in the views. Oswaldtwistle was only a small village, nestling between a chain of hills off to the east and the moors to the west. It lay in a dip and as he looked down on it now, he could make out church spires, the green copper roof of one glistening in the sun. There was a brook running through the centre of the village and he could see the main road winding its way over the hill to God knows where.

The hills to the east brooded in a tall line, but one hill stood out on it's own. Sam had said that was Pendle Hill, with Clitheroe, a market town nestling at it's foot. The whole area was steeped in history and the sun, the green grass and the fresh air were working their magic on the brunette, calming him with every breath.

He continued his walk, seeing in the distance the trees and lake that Sam had told him about. As he neared it, he saw a heron, standing in solitary state on a small island in the middle of the water. The grass sloped gently down to the water's edge, and invited the detective to sit and rest for a while. He did just that.

Starsky found a place near the trees, but still with the sun on his back. He sat on the spongy grass and idly watched the dog as he busied himself checking out rabbit holes and tree trunks. The warm breeze ruffled the brunette's mahogany curls, sweeping them back and forth over his forehead and he screwed his eyes up slightly against the bright sunlight. It was so quiet. Just the sound of the breeze in the trees, the birds singing and the occasional hiss of water as a fish broke the surface. Time seemed to stand still as he took in the sights and the peace and tranquillity. Suddenly, Bay City didn't exist any more. Here he could look back on the previous months in a detached manner. It had happened to someone else, not to him. He leaned back, propping himself on his elbows, allowing his eyes to close and the gentle sun to shine on his upturned face. His universe shrunk to the margins of the water and the woodland.

He rested his head back on the ground, pillowing it in the crook of his arm, and closed his eyes, enjoying the peacefulness and breathing in the warm fragrant air. He felt weightless and insubstantial, as if his body didn't belong to him any more. He tried to think back to the night and his partner, still in bed in the cottage, but his mind refused to focus on anything but the sounds and smells around him. This was mindlessness. Not the same as back in LA when his mind just wouldn't function on any level. This was mindlessness where he selected his thoughts at random, and played them over and over in his head until their meaning had worn out.

Had he been asleep? He didn't think so, but he heard another voice, a little way off. Damn! He wanted to be alone. He opened his eyes to squint in the direction of the sound and saw a young woman down by the water's edge. She was dipping her feet in the cool water and singing softly under her breath. As he raised himself into a sitting position, she looked around and waved at him, as if she knew him. Hesitantly, he waved back, and she started walking towards him.