McGrail came back to the white room in the early morning, having left an orderly outside the room all night in case the flaxen haired cop required any help. The man outside said he'd heard raised voices but nothing more and the doctor nodded and asked to be let in.
Hutch looked up as he heard the tiny noise of the key in the lock and his expression hardened as he saw the short figure of the medic letting himself into the white hell. Although he knew the doctor was probably a very caring individual, he could only remember the taped eyes of his sick partner and the exhausted head hanging forward. Starsky needed love and kindness, not drugs and restraints and Hutch would never forgive the brunette's treatment. Starsky was sleeping fitfully at his side, the curly head cushioned on his partner's lap and Hutch put his fingers to his lips shushing McGrail.
During the night, the curly haired cop had fought the effects of the drug that remained in his system, while Hutch soothed him, running his fingers through the mahogany curls and whispering soft and low. He could tell that many of Starsky's dreams were frightening and some seemed to be painful as the thin body next to him jerked reflexively, drawing his knees up to his chest and letting out gasps. Several times Starsky had spoken in his sleep, mumbling under his breath and seemingly arguing with his captors.
'Don't do that……no……ungh… please don't'…..no more, please no more…..kill ya…..Oh God…..Noooooo'.
The moans of pain tore at the blonde's heart and sealed his resolve to get Starsky out of there as soon as possible. His partner's mumbled words replayed in his head. Utch, I wanna go home. Just take me home huh? Why am I being punished? I wanna go home.
And so as the doctor walked in, Hutch carefully extricated himself from the brunette and stood stiffly, his back and butt numb from the hours he'd spent on the floor nursing his friend. He bit back a groan as he straightened, seeing the pale hand on the ground reaching for him. Starsky moaned at the absence of the comforting body, but his eyes remained closed and the blond indicated to the doctor that they should talk outside. Quietly they left the room, Hutch taking a last look at his friend's body on the padded floor, curled into a ball, arm cushioning the curly head. He looked for all the world like a small boy, lost in a snow white world.
McGrail closed the door gently looking expectantly at the blond and waiting for the tirade to begin.
'I taking him home' Hutch said in a tone that brooked no argument.
The doctor shook his head. 'That's not wise detective. He's sick and he's a danger to you and to himself. I wouldn't be a very good psychiatrist if I was to allow him to return to society in his current condition. Maybe in a couple of months, when he's been treated, he'll be able to rejoin you again, but until then….' He let the implication hang in the air.
'A couple of months? I wouldn't leave him for more than a couple of hours in this place if I had a choice. Last night you had the law on your side when you said you had to keep him. Well, doctor, the 24 hours is almost up. I have power of attorney over him and I'm taking him home' Hutch shouted, his finger pointing accusingly at the doctor.
McGrail stood his ground in front of the raging blond, waiting for Hutch to quieten down so that he could speak. 'He's a danger to you. I don't think you realise what you would be taking on. And he's a danger to himself'.
'What d'ya mean a danger to me. Starsky wouldn't hurt me. Even if he's sick, he's not gonna do anything to hurt me' Hutch spluttered seeing the look of disbelief on the doctor's face. Quietly McGrail pulled the blond into an adjoining room and sat him down. He picked up a video cassette and inserted it into a player, pressing the button. The image on the television screen flared to life and Hutch put his head in his hands as the grainy picture showed Starsky belting Hutch on the chin and the blond pinning his partner against the wall. McGrail stopped the image and looked knowingly at the flaxen haired cop.
'CCTV. We have it in all the rooms here. He attacked you'.
'It wasn't an attack. He's scared and lost and you have him wired on so many drugs he can't think straight. Have you any idea what those suckers did to him? How would you fare if you were tied down and questioned for 12 days, beaten and electrocuted with a Tazer gun huh? How would you feel if they held your head under dirty water and punched you until you took a lungful and passed out? Would you be the same McGrail? Would you be lucid and amenable? I don't think so! He needs to be with his friends, with people who care. He needs to be with me and there ain't you or anyone else gonna stop me from taking him out of here, ya got that?'
McGrail sighed, knowing he'd never win the argument with the big blond. Hutch was adamant and the doctor could see the resolve in the ice blue eyes.
'Do you have anyone to help you? You can't do this on your own, I can send a nurse or…'
'I have help. I don't need anyone from here' Hutch said with finality. 'I just need to get to a phone. Can I use yours?' he asked, calmer now that the medic seemed to be taking him seriously.
McGrail nodded. 'Of course detective'. He indicated the phone on the desk. 'And Mr Hutchinson? We do care. No matter what you think of our methods or approach, we care very deeply' he got up and left Hutch to his phone call.
The troubled blond watched the doctor's retreating back and as the door closed he picked up the telephone asking for the operator.
'Yeah, can you get me Bay City Operational Army Base please? Eighth Battalion. Thanks' he waited, drumming his fingers impatiently on the hard wooden surface of the desk.
'Hello, could you put me through To Major Thomas Trafford, Bomb Disposal Unit please. It's a personal call'. There was a delay of a few minutes during which Hutch formulated his plan. He heard a click, then Traff's familiar tones.
'Major Trafford'.
'Traff? Its Hutch. Can you talk?'
'Hey Hutch buddy! Yeah. I'm still on sick leave. Fire away. What can I do for ya?'
'Its Starsky. I need your help'.
There was a low groan on the other end of the phone. 'What's up with Curly? Is he OK? I know he was a mess when I left Memorial, but I thought he'd recover'.
Hutch swallowed. 'He's……they sent him to Cabrillo. I'm here with him now, but I need to get him out. Need your help Traff'.
'Shit. They're as useful as a pork pie at a Jewish wedding when it comes to PTSD. You're right to want him out of there. Let me guess, they've drugged him and left him to his own devices?' Traff's voce held the beginnings of anger.
'Worse' Hutch replied, trying to keep his voice level and measured. 'Yeah, they've dosed him with Thorazine, but when I got here they'd gotten him into a straight jacket and they'd…' his voice cracked and he took a deep breath, getting his emotions under control before he could continue. 'They wanted to stop him counting everything, so they taped his eyes closed'.
Traff cursed down the telephone for several seconds, never using the same word twice. If it hadn't been such a serious conversation, Hutch might have been impressed at the swear words Traff used in English, Spanish, French and a few languages Hutch had never heard before. Finally the soldier stopped and the blond could hear him panting. 'Those sons of bitches! Ok stay put, I'll be over there in an hour. Wait for me huh? Then we'll get him back to your place'.
'Thanks buddy, I owe you'.
Traff chuckled. 'Nah, I owe Curly' he said and the phone went dead.
Hutch opened the door and saw the doctor pacing the corridor. McGrail stopped and came back into the room, sitting down by the side of the blond.
'I have some help. He'll be over here in an hour. Can Starsky go home then?' he asked, silently pleading with the doctor.
McGrail looked unhappy, but nodded. 'On the proviso that if he becomes too much for you, he is readmitted here. And also only if we can sedate him for the journey'.
Hutch saw the finality in the doctor's eyes. He'd won the major battle and didn't want to push his luck further. If it meant only one more needle for his partner, he was willing to agree.
He sighed. 'Fine. Do what you have to. There'll be a Major Trafford coming in an hour. Will he be ready to go then?' McGrail nodded.
Reluctantly Hutch got up and made his way back to the padded room, the orderly opening the door for him so that he could enter. Starsky had woken and was looking around him in panic at finding himself alone again. As Hutch came back into the room he saw his partner sag back against the white padded wall, pulling the tartan shirt around him like a comfort blanket.
'You ok Buddy. S'ok, I'm right here' Hutch said gently.
'Thought I'd imagined you again' Starsky said softly, rubbing his face with his left hand. 'Shit….Not sure what's real any more' he said sadly, tenting his eyebrows at his partner.
'I'm real. Hey would they make a mirage this ugly?' Hutch said, lowering himself to the floor next to the brunette. 'Good news. We're gonna break you out of this joint' he said patting the shoulder next to him.
'We?' The indigo eyes looked questioningly
'Traff's coming. I did a deal with the doctor. He said as long as we have help I can take you home'.
Starsky smiled. 'He thinks you need help so that I don't try an' kill ya any more?' He pointed upwards at the tiny camera in the corner. 'I may be nuts, but I'm not stupid. Let me guess he caught our little argument on video?'
Hutch chuckled. 'Oh yeah. Seems to think you're a psycho buddy. Haven't a clue where he gets that from. I mean anyone who dresses in threadbare jeans, drives a striped tomato and keeps a pet stone is as sane as the next guy, right?'
He paused, seeing the doctor through the observation window in the door. He held up a hand to the medic, asking for a moment.
'There was another part of the deal buddy. Something I haven't told ya'.
Starsky locked eyes with the blond. 'Why do I have the feeling I'm not gonna be over the moon about it?'
'Doctor Frankenstein wants to sedate you again' he said gently. 'It's the last time partner, but it's the only way I could get him to agree'.
He saw the brunette swallow down the rising panic. 'Coz he thinks I'm crazy?'
Hutch nodded not trusting his own voice to answer.
He saw his partner shrug his shoulders. 'Guess I am crazy. Not many guys count buttons an' lights huh?' He sighed. 'S'ok Blondie. Tell him he can do what he has to……just wanna go home. You'll be here, right?'
Hutch smiled. 'Ain't goin' anywhere partner'. He motioned for the doctor to come in, dismayed at the presence of the two orderlies with him. All three men advanced on the cowering brunette as he pushed himself back against the wall.
McGrail knelt down at Starsky's side, syringe in his hands and the orderlies positioned themselves on at each side of the shaking brunette. Without a pause, the two large men took hold of Starsky's arms. Hutch looked on is dismay as he heard a quiet whimper and his partner locked scared indigo blue eyes onto his as the orderlies fastened thick leather medical restraints around Starsky's wrists, attaching them together and pinning his arms behind him.
'Hey, that was never part of the deal' he yelled, coming to his feet to try to pull the orderlies away. He stopped when he heard the quiet voice.
'S'ok Blondie. ….can handle it. Just…..don't go, huh? Stay with me?'
Hutch watched as the orderly secured the straps between the cuffs, and roughly pushed him out of the way. He knelt down by his partner, pulling the curly head onto his shoulder as Starsky leaned against him, then looked up, maintaining eye contact.
As McGrail knocked any air bubbles out of the syringe and prepared the injection, the brunette's eyes remained locked on his partner's, needing the contact. As the needle plunged into the vein, Starsky finally looked away and as McGrail completed the procedure, Hutch watched as the stormy eyes clouded over and Starsky rested his head back against the wall.