Chapter 17

Boone looked down as Hutch continued to hold his partner, talking low and gentle into Starsky's ear. He'd never seen such love and devotion between two men and it at once confirmed what he thought he knew –that they were lovers, and at the same time pulled at something deep in his chest. For one agonising moment, Boone wished that he could have someone there who loved him as much as Hutch obviously loved the brunet. The feeling shocked the younger cop and he shook himself, berating himself for feeling warm and fuzzy…..and like a voyeur looking down at the two detectives. Starsky's eyes were closed and his face was pale, his lips tinged with blue and yet he was listening intently to his partner's voice. And Boone willed the curly haired cop to die.

Alive, Starsky could identify exactly who the police mole was. Alive he would exonerate Patterdale and place all the blame securely on Boone's shoulders. The brunet would awake and point the finger of accusation at Boone. He would identify the young cop as his attacker and Boone would be finished. Not even Kim's best lawyers would be able to get him off the attempted murder rap and Boone doubted that he would ever survive in prison. He was the sort of guy who would be everyone's little puppy and his butt clenched as he realised that half the men in Bay City jail had been put there by his department. He looked back down at the dying man.

Die, damn you. Die and I can get on with my life.

Out loud, Boone said 'Is there anything I can do?'

Hutch didn't look around. He had his gaze fixed on Starsky as though he were willing the smaller man to breathe. 'Go and meet the medics huh?'

'But I….'

'Just go!' Hutch yelled harshly.

Boone almost staggered back with the force of the words. 'Yeah, sure thing Hutch. I just….'

'Sorry kid. I d didn't mean….just g go and g get the medics huh? You did good today.'

Boone hunched his shoulders and walked out of the room, passed the body of Clay Patterdale that had remained ignored on the ground. He walked out of the warehouse and stood at the door as he took out a cigarette and lit it, drawing the calming smoke deep into his lungs. Slowly he let the acrid blue vapours trickle out of his nose as he heard the sirens in the distance. And still he muttered the mantra that was keeping him going.

Die Starsky. Die damn you, die.

Inside the building, Starsky was semi-conscious. With the pains in his body to deal with, he had no energy left to open his eyes and focus on Hutch and yet he took great comfort from the blond man's presence. He was cold, and getting colder by the moment, but what was worse was that he knew what that chill meant. He'd experienced it before, almost a year ago, on the ground in another place. The cold then had crept up on him as he lay huddled against the wheel of his beloved Torino. It had started at his feet and by the time the medics had got to him, it was climbing up through his guts and into his chest. Then they had talked of bleeding out and he'd felt pressure on his chest and back as they'd used everything in their arsenal to keep his life blood inside his body.

It was the same now. The cold was clutching at his guts, creeping slowly up his body so that he felt afloat, somewhere above the ground. It was a peaceful feeling and despite the cold, Starsky felt comfortable in a strange sort of way and he listened to Hutch's words with a weird detachment.

'We're gonna make it buddy. I can hear the sirens. We'll get ya to the hospital and you can have all the pretty nurses you need. Remember Olivia, the one with the assets? She'll be there. And Maureen. She had the hots for ya buddy, I know she did. You just have to hang on Starsk, are ya listening? Huh? Are ya? Hang on for me, or if not for me, hang on so that you can tell Dobey what a punk Clay Patterdale turned out to be huh?'

Patterdale! Starsky had almost forgotten about the old timer and now, with the medics coming for him once more, it seemed important that Hutch should know that they had both wrongly accused Patterdale. The injured cop forced open his eye.

'Not Pat…. Boooone.'

'I know, I know. Boone saved your life. I know.'

Starsky rolled his head, determined to try to make Hutch understand. 'Pat…..dead. He…. Kim killed.'

'Yeah, probably because he realised just what a useless piece of shit he was' Hutch said. 'It's fine Starsk. It's ok, I'll tell Dobey. Just rest huh? They're here now.' Hutch shuffled away from his friend's body as the medics rushed into the room and started to work around Starsky calmly and clinically. He was in the way, Hutch knew, and Starsky had lost consciousness. Stiffly the flaxen haired cop got to his feet and stood back, giving the professionals some room.

Besides him, Boone asked 'Will he make it?'

'He has to. He has to live. I can't see him any other way in my head. If I did, I'd go to pieces and that way I'd never hunt Kim down and make sure he pays.'

Boone looked down at the medics as they continued to work on the injured cop. They already had one line in place and were hanging another bag as one of the other team members was examining the knife wound in Starsky's side. Boone walked over to them. 'Is he gonna be ok?' he asked.

The medic looked up. 'He's lost a fair bit of blood and by the looks of it he's been badly beaten, maybe with a weapon of some sort.'

'Just a fist' Boone said proudly before he caught himself. 'I guess' he added quickly. 'I um…..well I didn't see any weapons when I came in.'

'Well whatever happened. We need to get him over to Memorial fast. Are you two guys going to follow on in your car?'

'I'm not leaving him' Hutch said firmly. 'I'll c come back for….back for the c car.'

'I can drive it' Boone offered. 'You go and be with Starsky and I'll see you at the hospital huh?'

Hutch looked at Boone almost as though he'd seen the younger man for the first time. 'Thanks Joe. I….I just need to be with him. The other guys will be here for the b body. Can you wait?'

Boone nodded. 'Sure thing. I know you need to be together. Go be with your lov….partner.' The "damn you" hung on the air although Hutch didn't seem to notice and was already walking by the side of the gurney out of the door. Boone let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and plunged his hands into his trouser pockets. What now? What did he do now? Did he run back to Kim and trust the boss to protect him? The thought crossed Boone's mind fleetingly. A new life in a new place….. the thought scared the crap out of the young cop. All he'd ever known was in California. The furthest he'd been in his entire life had been Sacramento and even then he was glad to get back to Bay City. Although Boone romantically thought of himself as a Livingstone type, exploring the world, deep down his insecurities kept him home, in his comfort zone, where he could be king of an exceedingly small castle.

So where did that leave him? The young man thought hard. His only remaining option –and the one he liked the most- was to have Starsky die, take the credit for trying to save him, and live a long and illustrious life as the Metro's new hero. He could imagine it –the award ceremony with the Chief of Police pinning the medal onto his chest; standing at Starsky's graveside comforting Hutch; maybe riding out with the blond man. Did Boone and Hutch sound right, or should it be Hutch and Boone? The young cop shook himself out of his imaginings. One thing had to happen first. Starsky needed to croak and by the looks of things, he wasn't too far away from doing just that. Yet the brunet had bucked the odds before. Not many men had survived five bullets and lived to tell the tail, let alone fought back to their job. Starsky was not one to be underestimated, which meant that Boone needed to be close, so that he could grab any opportunity that came along.

One way or the other, David Starsky would not live to see another sunrise.

The coroner's wagon came a few minutes after the ambulance had left. It was accompanied by Knight and Knigge, two detectives from the Metro. Boone played hero to the hilt and enjoyed the adoration he felt he saw in the two older men's eyes. He laid on thick the injury to his nose and head and didn't mention that it was Starsky himself who'd inflicted it. By the time Boone was ready to leave, he'd pumped himself up so much that even he believed that he'd fought off Clay Patterdale single handedly and had lived to tell the tale. He bade Knight and his partner a final farewell, got into Hutch's old car and drove to the hospital glowing with admiration for himself. His plan was working. He would finish Starsky off when the opportunity arose, drive around the city to find Jade and become another picture in the Metro's hall of fame. In sheer delight, he slammed the mars light onto the roof of the car, pressed the pedal to the metal and ran every red light between the warehouse and Memorial hospital leaving chaos in his wake.

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Hutch sat outside the ER on one of those hard plastic chairs that he'd come to loathe over the years. He sat forwards with his head in his hands, his fingers woven through his tousled flaxen bangs as he waited for news. The blond man would have much rather been in the ER with his partner. On some of the other occasions when Starsky had been hurt, he'd managed to coerce his way in there, although once inside he could do no more than stand helplessly by and watch. This time, however, the doctors had told him firmly but kindly that he should wait outside, and for the first time ever Hutch obeyed without argument. He was exhausted and there was no fight in him any more. Hutch had vowed he'd never go near another hospital if he could help it. The long months of watching Starsky's recovery had taken it out of him almost as much as the brunet. Hutch still awoke shaking from nightmares where Dobey's voice told him "You'd better get over here". On those occasions Hutch relived the scenario over and again in his head – staring in through the glass window at Starsky's body on the bed, his spine bowing each time the electric current was zapped through his body. Hutch felt the shocks as though they were happening to him and he still remembered that sickening feeling of "this can't be happening" and the cold grip of inevitability that took his heart and squeezed it. Now he admitted to himself that he didn't want to be in that ER any more. He didn't want to see the needles and scalpels and medical paraphernalia. He wanted his partner back, whole and healthy with his lop sided grin, stupid jokes and everything else that came with the man called Starsky. And above everything else Hutch wondered if they….he……could truly carry on as a cop. The worry for his partner was too great, the constant surreptitious glances to make sure Starsky wasn't overdoing things, the responsibility of making sure the brunet took his meds, or did his physio, or ate properly. It was too much and this last six weeks of being back out on the streets had been so bitter sweet that Hutch felt as exhausted as Starsky looked.

Maybe the time had come to hang up their holsters. Maybe they should leave Bay City to the younger cops like Boone. Maybe robbing banks in Bolivia seemed the sensible option. Anything so long as Starsky lived……anything at all.

The door to the ER opened just as Boone walked into the quiet waiting room and came to stand by Hutch's side. The blond cop got stiffly to his feet. Behind the flapping doors, the other doctors were still working with a quiet calm, but the doctor standing in front of the two cops had a serious look on his face.

'You're Detective Starsky's partner?' he asked.

'Yeah. Is he ok? Is he gonna make it?' Hutch answered with questions of his own.

The doctor took a hold of Hutch's shoulder and guided the flaxen haired cop to a chair.

'Son, we need to talk' he said quietly.