Warnings: Deals with the topic of male rape so please do not read if the topic offends.
Disclaimer: Starsky and Hutch do not belong to me. No profit is being made and the story is for entertainment purposes only.
Thank you for your kind reviews and encouragement for this story. I have written this final chapter from Hutch's POV as it seemed to flow a bit better once I changed it. I was going to post it separately as a sequel but decided against that as I think it should be with the story.
Thanks again to Sparkle for her help and encouragement.
AFTERMATH
Hutch's thoughts
I knew what Starsky had suffered, at least most of it, and I knew that it wouldn't be easy for him to recover from. But knowing, and actually realizing, seemed to be two different things. I watched my shattered partner hiding from the world and it broke my heart. I was filled with fear that the motherfucker Jackson would win after all, and I'd lose my best friend.
Naturally he stayed at my place after the attack, but his concern seemed to be focused on me since I was still recovering from the gunshot wound. He was so worried about me; I think he put his own injuries to the back of his mind. I knew how strong our partnership was and how much he cared, but I had to wonder if part of his reaction was due to his inability to deal with what he'd endured. God knows he has every right to feel like that but I knew he would have to face up to it at some point. It was an impossible and heartbreaking situation and I wasn't at all sure how to deal with it.
After the first day home, which he spent sleeping, I could see him forcing himself to keep going, to get up and help me. He was so weak, but he was determined to help, whatever it took. I tried to get him to rest, but he wouldn't. We were both wounded and helped each other as best we could, as we always had. But this situation was so much more difficult than anything we'd had to face. Even Gunther's shooting almost paled into insignificance. Almost…the problem with time passing is that it could erode away how truly difficult a period of time had been. But once Starsky had been released from the hospital, I had known he'd recover despite the dark days and sometimes depressing recuperation. I was not at all sure about this.
Starsky flatly refused to have Huggy come to stay, saying that he could manage. It was typical of my fiercely loyal friend that he'd worry about me, and want to look after me, even in the midst of his pain and confusion. I wasn't sure how to talk to him and get him to accept help.
Despite the fact that I'd been a cop for many years, I still found it hard to understand man's cruelty to each other. It was incomprehensible to me that my partner and best friend had endured such an unimaginable ordeal. The thought of what he'd suffered made me feel physically ill and it took all of my strength to try to fight back the intense anger and outrage which could all too easily become overwhelming.
I watched him, saw the shadows pass over his face, shadows that reflected extreme pain and anguish. After our initial talk, when he'd told me that the sick pervert had forced him to promise to stay, he had shown little inclination to talk any further about what he'd suffered.
I'd been completely freaked out by his comment that it was over. I knew he wasn't talking about his captivity, he was talking about our partnership and I also knew the aftermath wasn't going to be over quickly. Thankfully our talk seemed to have brought him some temporary relief. I say temporary because I could see he was still far from being okay. Not that I'd expect him to be recovering so quickly but he'd retreated emotionally and I was struggling with how to deal with that. Starsky tended to complain and whine like a child over minor cuts and illnesses, but anything major saw him become quite stoic and reserved. I found this frustrating normally, but during this extremely emotional time, I really was at a loss. Yelling at him not only seemed cruel, but also counter-productive so I tried to hold back my frustration with difficulty.
It was far too early to make any decisions about work, and he'd refused to see the doctor again. I'll be honest here and say that I floundered, knowing he had to talk about it but unsure of whether I should push him or not, and if so, how hard. Naturally, he'd flatly refused my suggestion of counselling, in fact the stricken look on his face was enough to make me back away completely. The last thing I wanted to do was to cause him further pain or anxiety. His refusal to see anyone professional wasn't a surprise to me, and at first I was only mildly worried. While the communication lines remained open between us, I hoped, and prayed, that we could sort things out. I never kidded myself, I knew it would be a long road to recovery, but I really felt we could do it. However, the lines were closing down and Starsky showed no signs of wanting to go outside and I realized that he was hiding out, hiding from everyone but me. He was helping take care of me, as I was him, but the reality was he was hiding.
He'd been so frail and weak when we first got home. After the doctor's examination and our brief talk, he collapsed on the bed and slept for most of the day. His poor body was a mass of bruises and cuts. He'd been kept hostage by a pervert for over three days, and raped, at least once. He said it had been once but I wasn't sure what to believe. It didn't matter anyway, the level of the assault was horrendous. The memory of seeing him naked on the bed with Jackson straddling him woke me up in a cold sweat. I couldn't begin to imagine going through what he had. He'd told me about how Jackson had toyed with him and played a kind of cat and mouse game. I was so full of rage and regret that I hadn't smashed Jackson's head into a wall that I could barely talk. When Starsky told me that Jackson had made him promise to stay with him, and my partner had agreed, I was nearly exploding with rage. When he mentioned how he'd wanted to die, it further enraged me and left me devastated. Maybe Starsky had picked up on my intense emotions, and that was why he was cutting down on communication, but I tried very hard to control myself.
As I watched the shell that was Starsky, I wondered how or when we would move past this. I'd been perfectly truthful when I said that I didn't care if we never hit the streets again. For so long our lives had been a struggle, being the objects of hatred for every sick bastard in LA. I'd come close to quitting after the Gunther shooting. I so nearly lost him then. He had died, he had really died as his heart had stopped beating, and it still scared the shit out of me. If I could turn back the clock, I would and I'd quit the department, and take him with me. Anything to keep him safe. But I stayed, as had he, and now we were living with the consequences of what seemed like a terrible decision.
I knew how damaged he was, but I think I was concentrating on the me and thee strength and counting on it to pull us through. That and Starsky's own spirit. I hadn't taken into account just how severely Starsky's spirit had been beaten, and it wasn't immediately obvious due to his determination to help me.
For the first day, he stayed in bed, sleeping a great deal. I'd expected nightmares but if they were occurring, Starsky got through them without waking me up. He remembered very little of being found, didn't even remember how he'd tried to hide from me. That was painful for me to remember. His next clear memory was the doctor's examination of him and our talk. After that, he'd collapsed into sleep, only to make himself get up and help me the next day.
After that first embrace, he kept his distance physically from me and it hurt. Touch had always been important to us but I knew I had to respect his wishes. He'd been forced into the closest contact you can have with another human being, and I wasn't going to pressure him to do anything. Maybe I was wrong and maybe that was why I seemed to be losing him, as he started to retreat emotionally from me. His concern for me remained, but he refused to talk any more about his ordeal or to lean on me in any way.
When Dobey came to visit, he shut himself in the bedroom, refusing to come out. It was too soon, I reasoned with myself. Dobey understood and left sadly. The wounds had barely started to heal. He refused to see Huggy who didn't take it as well as Dobey. I could see the hurt in his eyes as I explained to him gently that Starsky had to come to terms with what had happened to him before he could face anyone. Huggy reluctantly accepted that.
We had problems, I knew that. My shoulder was still very sore and I was tiring too easily but Starsky wasn't so out of it that he couldn't see that. My wonderful friend pulled himself together enough to help serve up the food that Huggy had brought around and to clean up afterwards, even telling me to sit down. We were both so battered and tired and this was only the start of the difficult days for us.
As Starsky's physical wounds healed, he took over more of the household duties, not once mentioning going outside or talking to Dobey or Huggy. Even by the end of the second week, he was still refusing to see anyone and I was starting to worry about his almost compulsive obsession to keep the apartment clean and to pick up after me. Finally, I understood what he was doing. I would have seen this earlier, had I been in my usual frame of mind but I was experiencing a lot of pain from my injury. It paled in comparison to Starsky's pain but it certainly affected my perception of the situation. I was, of course, also having to fight my own demons and emotions concerning Starsky. I was far too close to the situation to see it clearly.
It seemed that looking after me gave him something to think about, but as I started to heal, I could see that he was using me as a shield against the world. He was devoting himself to me to the degree that he could avoid going out, or meeting people, by stating he had things to do and that I needed to take it easy as shoulder wounds were often tricky. He reminded me of the shot he'd taken to his upper shoulder in that Italian restaurant so many years ago. As if I needed reminding. That had been another close call I'd had with him. So nearly lost him then. I know that wound still gave him trouble at times but I still didn't properly comprehend why he was fussing over me, not until the day arrived that I tried to get him to come to the shops for groceries. His instant refusal, claiming that he had to clean an already spotless apartment, finally clued me in and I knew it couldn't continue.
Oh God, he looked like a little boy about to be punished when I told him that I needed his help with the groceries. Not altogether a lie, but I knew I could get Huggy to help. He'd been doing the shopping for us since we'd got back but I was starting to see what was going on with Starsky and thought it would be good to get him out. I told him I needed fresh air to try to get back in shape after the shooting. He was so torn by his desire to help me and his fear that it broke my heart. Once again, I had no idea of whether I should push this or not. I loved him so, and his pain hurt me badly. I wished I knew how to get through to him, how to convince him that he had nothing to be ashamed about and that his secret would remain safe. I knew then that I'd never get him to counselling but I wondered if I should go, if it could help me to help him. I'd do anything, talk to anyone, if I could help bring Starsky through this nightmare. In the end I gave up on the groceries, deciding to call Huggy. Again, I had no idea whether that was the right thing to do or not.
Starsky still refused to see anyone, hiding in the bedroom when Dobey or Huggy came by and I could sense their increasing concern. Dobey pulled me aside and told me that I should seek help but I just couldn't bring myself to make Starsky do anything he didn't want to do. Dobey tried telling me that I needed to get out and that this wasn't any sort of life but I think he knew it was a lost cause. He asked how long I intended to live like this and I simply said, as long as it takes. I wasn't going to force Starsky to go out and I sure as hell wasn't going to leave him alone. After seeing them out, I turned around to face Starsky standing in the bedroom door. His physical bruises were all but gone, it had been nearly three weeks since his assault. The only physical signs remaining of his condition were the dark circles and the shadows which dwelt in the once clear blue eyes.
"Hutch, I'm sorry to be a bother to ya." Starsky spoke quietly.
I started to protest but was waved down by the hand. "No, let me speak. I don't know if I can get past this or not, blondie, but I don't want ya hidin' out with me in this apartment forever. You've got a life to live." he paused. A sinking feeling was taking hold of me but I didn't interrupt. I hoped this wasn't going where I thought it was.
"You've got a life to lead and I'm stoppin' ya. That's not what partners do and I've decided that …."
"NO" I wasn't going to let him finish that statement. "Partners help each other, Starsk. I know I haven't helped you much, but it's only because I don't know what the hell to do! I see your pain, and know you're drowning but can't do a thing! I'd give my life to turn back the clock but I can't, Starsk, and it's killing me seeing you like this. I wish it had been me, but it wasn't and I can't take this pain away from you, as much as I want to. My life is worth nothing without you, got that, NOTHING. You can't leave me…" I could feel the tears starting, blinding me. I didn't see him approach me but I felt his arms going around me. I returned the embrace, not knowing what else to say but feeling that we'd reached a crisis point. I knew if he walked out, I'd never see him again and I couldn't live, not without my best friend.
"Hey blintz, I wish you'd let me finish before goin' off in a panic" there was the old note of humour in his voice but I could tell he was struggling to hold it together
"You were right, I can't hide out in this apartment forever and I need to get out but I can't do it here, where everyone knows us. I've gotta get away…" I found myself protesting but he just held me tighter. "You said we could go somewhere, anywhere. I was hopin' you'd…" I breathed in deeply, almost dizzy with relief. He wasn't giving up, he wasn't going to leave me. He wanted me to be with him.
"Don't know how ya could think I'd want to leave on my own. You're my lifeline, Hutch." I felt his hold on me tighten and I thought my heart would burst. "You say you dunno how to help me but you do, every second. I see ya lookin' at me and know how much you love me. Do you have any idea how much that helps? Knowing that you love me so much? When I'm feelin' so worthless and dirty, to know that you found me like that and still love me? I don't know if I can get past this, but if I can, it will be because of you. I sure as hell can't do this on my own. But I don't want to hold you back. I want you to live your life and I know you ain't gonna do it while I'm hiding out like this. I heard what Dobey said about this not being a life, and it isn't, not for you. But I can't face it around here, where people know me. I want to get away, right away, if you'll come with me… I want to leave LA for awhile, away from people who know us. You said we could…."
I was speechless as I listened to my courageous partner and friend. I don't think I'd ever loved him more than at that moment. I could see precisely what he was doing. He was talking about "my" life and how "I" had to get on with things. Not him, he wasn't talking about himself and in order to ensure that I did get out, he was proposing leaving LA, as that was his only option. He couldn't face LA and people we knew, but he was prepared to try a new place, with new faces. He wasn't yet ready to accept that he still had a life that needed to be lived, he was concentrating on me and my life. I was overwhelmed with love and pride. I would never understand what I'd done to deserve such a friend, but I was truly thankful for him.
"You've got it, buddy. Whatever you want, wherever you want to go, I'll be there for you and with you, and you, no we, will get past this. I meant what I said the other day, I don't care if we don't go back to the department. You're all that matters to me, Starsk. Don't ever forget it." I was rewarded by him holding me even tighter. Perhaps we'd stumbled on the road to recovery now. I wasn't kidding myself, I knew it would still be a struggle, some days harder than others, but we would get there. I pulled away gently from the iron grip and smiled into the face of the best friend I'd ever have.
"Gotta ring Dobey, Starsk. We're going on indefinite leave. If the Department don't like it, they can lump it" He grinned weakly at me.
"Guess you could invite him round. Huggy too. Do ya think Dobey will play Monopoly?" Starsky would always find a way to surprise me.
End.
