Chapter 7

Hutch awoke rested after the first decent nights sleep he had had in weeks. He'd been so angry at Joan Meredith for the insensitive way she'd treated his partner that he'd wanted to hit out and punch something or someone. As it was he'd gotten himself home and had taken it out on his bedroom wall, hitting out at the dumb plaster time and again, yelling at the injustice of it all until his hand was too sore to continue and his tears had run dry. This morning he saw the bloody trails down the wall and looked ruefully at the bleeding raw and swollen knuckles of his right hand. Not the brightest thing you've ever done Hutchinson.

But at least after his outburst he felt better; almost cleansed and he'd finally taken a shower and heaved himself wearily into bed to fall into a deep and for once dreamless sleep.

This morning he lay on his back staring up at the ceiling wondering how he could help his partner. How do you convince someone who'd been through what he had that it was all over and no-one was going to hurt him again? He had a nagging feeling at the back of his mind and as he thought about it more the feeling intensified. After five minutes or so he was so uncomfortable that he prised himself out of bed and padded into the living room. Picking up the telephone he dialled Memorial and asked to be put through to the fourth floor nurses station.

'Nurse Genaro'

'Hi Rosa, its Hutch. How's Starsky today?' he asked. There was a pause and then he heard Rosa asking where Mark was. She came back on the line.

'Hi Hutch. I ...erm...I think you'll need to speak to Mark. He's around here somewhere'.

'S'ok Don't bother. I'm on my way' Hutch said, more than ever aware that his feelings had been correct and that something had happened to his friend. He slammed the phone down and raced back into his bedroom, hastily climbing into his old jeans and a fresh green tee shirt. Picking up his car keys he headed for the door.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take for ever and every scenario imaginable went through the blond head as he drove, finally parking up in Memorial's parking lot. Without waiting to lock the car, his long legs powered him into the building and up to the fourth floor, racing along the long, sterile looking corridor. Mark was waiting at the nurses' station and saw the big blond heading into 402. He followed and reached the door just as Hutch came thundering out, questions in his ice blue eyes.

'Where is he?' he yelled at the doctor. 'What have you done with him? Is he OK?'

Mark put a steadying hand on Hutch's shoulder and steered him back into the room, sitting him down on the edge of the newly made bad.

'He's not here' he said gently.

'What d'ya mean he isn't here? He was ok last night when I….when you ordered me to leave'.

'I know' Mark looked upset. 'After you went, he was sleeping peacefully. The drug I gave him seemed to have quietened him down, but when one of my nurses checked on him he…erm….he became violent again'.

'What d'ya mean violent?' Hutch asked in a hushed tone.

Mark looked into the troubled eyes. 'He hit her, then tried to escape' he explained bluntly.

Hutch put his head in his hands, staggering back against the wall. 'Oh God Starsk! Is he….Is she ok?'

Mark nodded. 'She's fine and she doesn't want to press charges. She knows what he's been through. But Hutch…..Ken….I can't have him on the ward like that. He was just too dangerous. It took three of us to calm him down and an enormous dose of Thorazine to keep him quiet'.

Hutch looked up, accusation in his eyes. 'You drugged him again? Just what else do I need to know?'

'We….erm….we had to restrain him too'.

'My God. I thought this was a hospital. Aren't you supposed to treat sick people, not tie 'em up and drug 'em just because you think you can't handle 'em. I need to see my partner NOW' Hutch yelled, on his feet and pacing the familiar room.

Mark sat quietly through the outburst. He'd seen and admired the closeness these two men shared and it had pained him greatly to have to drug and tie his patient like some sort of laboratory animal. He understood Hutch's anxiety, and knew his next utterance would in no way calm the angry blond.

'We had him committed to Cabrillo' he said softly.

Hutch turned angry eyes on the doctor. 'So help me Doc, if I ever lay eyes on you again, I'll…..' he left the threat hanging as he walked towards the door, slamming it behind him as Mark watched him go sighing.

Hutch raced back to his car, his heart hammering in his chest. He remembered the last time his partner had been a guest of Cabrillo State Facility and the helplessness in those dark blue eyes as the nurses had whacked him up on so many drugs he could hardly think straight. Then he'd been an undercover cop with Hutch as backup. That was bad enough, but this time, he'd be experiencing the real thing with no blond presence to ease the way and Hutch shivered.

As he drove over to the other side of the city, his mind was in turmoil. Not only was he angry at the way the system had dealt with Starsky, he was at a loss to know how he could help his friend. He only knew that he had to get him out of the mental hospital and get him home. Once there he'd treat him as he thought he should and hopefully the brunette would respond.

He drew up outside the huge iron gates leading up to the mental hospital and pushed the buzzer on the lintel. There was a delay and then a disembodied voice said 'How can I help?'

'Detective Ken Hutchinson to see a patient' he said carefully and watched the gates swing open, He drove slowly up the sweeping drive and pulled up outside the facility's front door. Getting out he bounced up the steps and rang the door bell. He heard footsteps echoing down the corridor and within seconds the doors opened and he went in. The orderly showed Hutch into a small interview room and a moment later a short, fat, balding doctor bustled in, mopping at his brow with a scarlet handkerchief. He held his hand out to shake Hutch's.

'Detective? How may we help?' he asked. He had the sort of voice that calmed anyone within 100 metres and Hutch felt himself instantly warm to the small man.

'My partner has recently been admitted. I need to see him and get him out of here. There's been a big mistake' he blurted out, realising belatedly how lame it all sounded.

The doctor, to his credit didn't treat it that way, instead reading the need in the ice blue eyes staring back at him. 'My name is Paul McGrail. And your partner would be David Starsky?'

Hutch nodded. 'I need to see him. Have you any idea what he's been through?'

McGrail nodded. 'Yes, I read the file about David's unfortunate treatment. He's suffering from a classic episode of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. We've had to sedate him of course'.

'What do you mean, sedate? He's not a criminal, he's just sick' Hutch could feel his voice getting louder.

McGrail nodded. 'I know. But he did knock out a nurse at Memorial out and the Thorazine he was given there was wearing off by the time we received him. For his own safety and the safety of my staff we had to give him more. He's quiet now'.

Hutch heaved a steadying breath, trying to ignore the fact that his friend was once more subject to drugs and needles. 'Doc, I need to see him now'.

The doctor saw the need in the blonde's face and rose. 'Come with me' he said and set off down the endless white tiled corridors Hutch knew so well. The blonde's heart sank as they turned toward the maximum security wing, hearing doors unlock then clang shut behind them and eventually stopped outside one of the locked doors

'You can see him through the window' McGrail said, pointing to a small observation hatch in the room's door. 'But prepare yourself. He's been quite violent and we've had to take certain steps to maintain our and his safety.

With trepidation Hutch looked through the 10" x 10" square observation window, hitching a breath at the sight.

The room was a white padded cell perhaps 15' x 15' square. Soft white material padded the floor, walls and ceiling, the bright white light in the ceiling embedded into the padding so that there were no prospective ligature points in the room. There was no respite from the bright light and it cast stark shadows in the room.

Hutch turned away, his lips white with anger. 'Let me in there now' he ground out, angry beyond words.

McGrail was shaking his head. 'I'm sorry Detective. He's far too dangerous for anyone to go in there with him at the moment. He has an obsession to count, perhaps the beginnings of obsessive compulsive disorder. Perhaps in another few weeks when we've had a chance to observe and treat him, he can begin to…..'

'Few weeks. FEW WEEKS?' Hutch yelled. He balled his hands into fists to stop himself from hitting the doctor, feeling the wounds on his own knuckles open and begin to bleed again. 'So help me Doc, you've got to let me in there' he pleaded.

But McGrail was implacable. 'He's too dangerous' he repeated, seeing the blond shaking his head.

'That's my partner you're talking about, not some wild animal. He needs treatment not taming! We've worked together seven years. We've been through more tough times than most people have in a lifetime. There is no way Starsky would hurt me. Now for Gods sake, please…..Doc…..just let me in huh?'

Realising this blond hellcat would never take no for an answer. McGrail reluctantly took a key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock.

'Just be careful and ring the bell if you need help' he said gently.

'What I need is to get him out of here' Hutch said through gritted teeth, seeing the expression on the doctor's face.

'I'm sorry detective. He was sent to us as criminally insane. We have a duty to keep him at east 24 hours. I couldn't even begin to contemplate release until tomorrow'. He opened the door and Hutch walked into the white hell.

Sound in the room was deadened and Starsky didn't notice his appearance. Hutch's heart went out to his partner, never having seen him so defeated, defenceless and vulnerable.

Because of his behaviour, Starsky had been placed directly into the padded cell. To further "protect" him, he had been strapped into a bright white canvass straight jacket, his arms pulled cruelly around him and anchored by leather straps at the back. A further strap went between his legs, fixing the jacket in place. His pyjama pants had been replaced by white scrubs pants and his feet were bare

Starsky was sitting where he'd been placed, on the ground, his legs outstretched in front of him and his head hanging down in exhaustion. What made the brunette's incarceration worse was the method the hospital had used to stop the tormented man from counting items in his surroundings. As Hutch walked carefully over to his partner, he saw Starsky's eyes had been taped shut.

Very cautiously he eased himself down next to the restrained man and put his arm around his partner's shoulders.

'Starsky?' he whispered.

The hanging head raised a fraction and Hutch heard a muffled 'huh?'

'Starsk, its me, Hutch. Jeez babe, what have they done to you?' he pulled his friend to him and Starsky blindly turned his weary head.

'Utch?' he mumbled 'S'that you?'

'Yeah it's me Gordo. C'm'ere' Hutch gently took hold of his partner's chin, bracing himself as the brunette flinched back from his touch.

'S'ok Starsk. I'm just gonna get rid of your eye patches' he said gently, easing the tape from the damp brow and dark lashes. As each eye uncovered, Starsky blinked and looked blearily around him, finally resting his dilated pupils on Hutch.

'Utch…..take me home?...please'