Feedback: With this chapter, I would really appreciate it. It was extremely difficult to write. I'd like to know how I did.
Disclaimer: I make no money from this. Starsky and Hutch do not belong to me, I just borrow them, and promise to return them in the same condition I found them in. My characters do belong to me, and I can use them as I see fit, until they start fighting back.
Warning: As most of you have realized, or suspected, this is a death fic, not Starsky or Hutch. This is the chapter I've been dreading to write and post. I wanted to try and make it a peaceful, touching experience, but there is only so much you can do with death…
Chapter Thirteen
Tommy and Ricky joined Martins in the room. One look told them Sandy wasn't going to make it through one more game. This saddened them, but not for the reasons one would think of when it came to losing a life. They were sick, sadistic human beings, if they could be considered human at all. The fact was, that it wasn't going to take much to finish her off.
"She's already dying. Can't you just let her go in peace?" Hutch implored Joey as he stood, causing Tommy and Ricky to nervously raise the weapons they were carrying.
"Why do you think they call it the bonus round? The death is the 'bonus' part." Joey responded to Hutch, causing the blond mans blood to run cold.
Hutch looked down at his partner, who was still by the young girls' side. He lowered his head, squeezing his eyes tightly closed. Starsky felt helpless to save Sandy, but to think about Martins getting his kicks, watching this poor kid die, was too much to bear. He sprang from the ground, like lightening would strike from the sky, and with about as much force. His sudden burst even caught his partner off guard.
Starsky screamed out as he flew through the air. Within the blink of an eye, the brunet had Joey around the chest and was tumbling to the ground. It felt like it was happening in slow motion, and it must have been, because the incensed detective managed to get two good punches in before they hit the ground. One landing on the side of his chest, and one to the right side of his jaw. They hit the floor with a heavy Thump! He got a slight sense of satisfaction when he actually heard and felt the air escape from the little spawn of Satan.
Hutch lunged forward to try to help his partner. His right fist caught Tommy across the left temple sending him stumbling backwards against the wall behind him.
Starsky was straddling Lucifer, continuing to pummel him, the blood from his knuckles mixing with the blood on Martins' face, throwing punch after punch. Joey's arms flailed wildly about in an attempt to protect his head.
"You're a sick son of a bitch…I'm gonna kill you." Starsky spat, unable to control his blinding rage.
Hutch cocked back his right arm, preparing to deliver another powerful blow to Tommy, when he felt the butt of his own gun, connect with the base of his skull. The room went dark as the tall blond man fell like a tree in the woods.
Tommy and Ricky both directed their attention towards Joey and Starsky, simultaneously heading towards them. Each one of the armed men grabbed the detective under the arms, dragging him off their leader, and throwing him to the ground, on his back side.
"Move, and I blow your god damn head off!" Tommy warned.
Starsky looked up to see the barrels of both his, and Hutch's weapons, trained on him.
Joey was trying to rise off the floor and gain his composure, wiping the blood off his split lip. Starsky looked over and saw his partner out cold. A part of him was grateful for that.
Martins walked over to Starsky, looking down at him, sneering. He reached down and grabbed a handful of the brunets' curly hair, jerking his head up, forcing the man to look into his eyes. Starsky swallowed hard, trying to subdue his anger and even his pain.
"You're going to regret that pig!" Joey said, an instant before his left fist made contact with Starsky's jaw.
After a moments hesitation, Starsky brought his head back, looking Joey square in the eyes.
"Yeah? Well there's a few things you just may live to regret too." Starsky rebutted.
Joey looked at both Tommy and Ricky, smiling in amazement at the detectives' defiance and audacity.
No warning came, Starsky was unable to prepare himself for the kick that caught him in the abdomen, bending him in half. He began to heave, he thought he would lose what little stomach contents he had remaining. After a few fits of coughing, and gasping, Starsky was finally able to take a breath.
"Tie 'em up." Joey ordered the other two, and with that he turned his back to Starsky, who was still recovering, and spit at the mans' feet. Starsky was trying to get his knees underneath him, with one arm wrapped around his stomach, and one pushing against the floor. Martins turned on his heels and left the room to tend to his own wounds. Up until that moment, Starsky hadn't even noticed the rope that Ricky was carrying.
Starsky looked over at Sandy, she was conscious, but her breathing was becoming more irregular by the minute.
"Please, let me sit with her." Starsky requested of the heartless men, swallowing a lump the size of Mount Everest.
"So you are a sick bastard, after all." Tommy said as he trussed Starsky's wrists securely behind his back, then shoving him onto the ground on his stomach. "You wanna watch her die, too!" Starsky closed his eyes, he wanted to be with her, there for her…
Ricky turned his attention to the unconscious blond spread face down on the ground. After placing Hutch's Magnum in his waistband, he pulled both of the tall mans' arms behind his back, and began his task. Once he and Tommy were finished, they retreated to the doorway. Taking one last glance back at the three hostages, they smiled in satisfaction at each other and exited the room, going to check on Joey and locking the door behind them.
Starsky rolled on his side, taking a look at his silent, motionless partner. He knew Hutch was okay, he felt it. Other than a monstrous headache, he would be alright, at least so far. He also knew that the 'Larry, Moe, and Curly' would be back.
He heard a soft moan coming from the other direction. He rolled onto his back, his hands painfully positioned underneath his tailbone. With considerable effort, he snorted and rolled onto his other side, his mid-section bruised and sore.
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He locked eyes with Sandy. She had her head turned his direction, watching his every move. Her breathing was much more labored, requiring a certain amount of effort.
"Sandy!" He called to her.
Grunting and snorting he wiggled, twisted and contorted his aching body over to her side.
"It's okay, Sandy, it's okay. I'm right here." He assured her.
He managed to turn around and bring himself up along side her. They were face to face, he saw something he couldn't quite explain in her eyes, it was a peace, a comfort, a blessing. He could hear the rattling and noise in her breathing increase…He closed his eyes again…Hutch was right, she was dying, and he couldn't stop it. But he could be there with her, for her. Death never scared him, dying alone did…
He was able to scoot himself completely up against her, he wanted so badly to put his arms around her and hold her, but he couldn't, so this would have to do.
Her body tensed and arched. He knew she was in pain. She groaned as the wave passed through her.
"Shhh, it's alright honey…" Starsky didn't know what to say, what to do. He leaned towards her, pressing against her, holding her with his body. The pain he felt in his chest had nothing to do with any physical injuries, yet it was one of the most intense pains he'd ever experienced. "I'm so sorry…" He wept.
"Don't…be sorry." She gasped. "Don't…be sad."
She laid her head against his chest, she could hear his heart beating, as hers was stopping. She took a couple of quick breaths in…Starsky could feel his warm tears as they freely streamed down his face. He felt her hand reach up and stroke his cheek, wiping away the moisture.
"It's okay…Please don't cry for me…" She whispered. The time between her breaths increasing…
"I'm here. It's okay, if you have to go, I understand." He whispered back, kissing the top of her head, giving her permission to let go. He wasn't even aware of the pain in his wrists as he pulled against his restraints, trying to free his arms.
"Thank you, Dave." She barely audible.
He felt himself actually trying to breath for her…leaning against her…she felt his arms wrap around her, even though it didn't really happen…four quick breaths…she leaned back against him…Her arm on his chest…
Two quick breaths…
"I'm happy, now…"
"I'm glad Sandy."
One fast panting breath…
Nothing…Her arm fell to her side…
He lay there, waiting for the next breath. It never came. He sobbed, tightly closing his eyes, squeezing out the moisture that was blurring his vision. There was someone to cry for her…
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He wasn't sure how long he had laid there against her body. He heard a rustling sound behind him, then he heard the familiar voice…
"Starsk?" Hutch said in a low caring tone, sensing his partners pain.
"She's gone, Hutch." He said without moving away from her, his face was frozen in anger, his lips pierced together…
To Be Continued…