Chapter 18

Boone's heart leapt at the doctor's words. Was this it? Were all his worries over? He plastered a concerned look on his face and came to stand by Hutch's side, the consummate "best friend" as the doctor continued to talk.

'He has moderate injuries. For most men, he would be in hospital for a few days and then discharged home. But Mr Starsky isn't most men. It's only been months since he was shot and almost killed. We told him then that he would have to be careful for the rest of his life. We explained to him months ago that he had been incredibly lucky and that he couldn't expect his body to keep healing the way it did when he was younger.'

'Cut to the chase Doc. Is he gonna make it?' Hutch interrupted. He'd heard the pretty speech before and God knows he knew what a battle Starsky had had to regain his fitness. But that was in the past and Hutch needed to know how his partner was faring right now. The sinking feeling in his stomach told him it couldn't be well.

'He's got some impressive injuries, but yes, with luck he should pull through, although it was touch and go in there for a while.'

'Can I see him?' Hutch asked.

'In a little while, yes. We'll be taking him to the OR soon to deal with his broken ribs along with other things. He also has a dislocated jaw, although that hasn't stopped him trying to ask for you every couple of minutes.'

Hutch smiled. That was the Starsky he knew. Even with severe injuries, no-one would keep Dave Starsky quiet for too long. 'I um….well….thanks Doc. I um…'

The doctor looked at the ashen face in front of him. He heard the slight stammer and tremble in Hutch's voice and saw again the shake in the big blond's hands. The man was obviously in shock and if Hutch wasn't careful, he too would be a candidate for one of Memorial's beds. 'Look, we still need to get him cleaned up some and we need to run another couple of units of blood through before he's ready for the OR. We had a bad RTA here only a while ago and slots with the surgeons are hard to come by. It's gonna be a while. Go and get a coffee and sit down. You look all in. One thing I don't need is another patient right now.'

Hutch looked past the doctor's shoulder at the door of the ER. He wanted more than anything to check on his partner even though logic told him that he could do nothing but get in the way even if he was right by Starsky's side. He shrugged. 'Tell him I'll be right back huh?'

Boone added his voice. 'He's right Hutch. You've had a bad time of it. Go and rest. I'll be right here. The minute he's ready to see you I'll come and find you, ok?'

The doctor nodded. 'Listen to your friend. It won't do Mr Starsky any good if you're falling to pieces, will it?'

The big cop nodded. 'Ok, ok. I'll go and grab a quick coffee and be right back. Thanks Joe.'

Boone nodded, smiling. 'No problem Hutch. I know how much he means to you.'

'No. I don't think you do, but thanks anyway.' Hutch turned and with one last look at the ER door he walked off to the public café that Memorial housed on the ground floor. God, he knew the place well enough that they should reserve him a table – best one in the house!

Back outside the ER, Joe Boone paced, his mind a maelstrom of thoughts. Paramount was that somehow Starsky must be unable to tell Hutch what had gone on. Boone was happy that he'd laid the blame firmly at Clay Patterdale's feet. It never occurred to him what a devastating effect the news of Clay's death would have on Elaine, his widow. He never for one moment gave a thought to how he had single handedly stained a good cop's character. To Boone, all that mattered was that he had bought himself a gold star in Kim's eyes and that money and a comfortable lifestyle was almost within his grasp. That, and a beautiful, obedient wife called Jade, when he eventually tracked her down.

The door to the OR swung open and inside Boone could see the table and its occupant surrounded by doctors and nurses. The medical team seemed to be coming to the end of their preliminary treatment and as he watched, the two main doctors snapped off their gloves, shucked off their greens and walked out of the room to start working on their next customer. Eventually, Starsky was left with only one nurse, who carefully took a final reading of his blood pressure and temperature and checked on the IV rates of the lines feeding into both the brunet's arms. Replacing the charts on the end of the gurney, she walked over to Boone and smiled reassuringly.

'You must be Mr Starsky's partner. The one he won't stop asking for. He's been through a lot and he still has to go up to the ER to have his ribs and his jaw fixed but I'm sure he'd welcome some company whilst he waits.'

Boone smiled at her. 'Thanks for all you've done for him. Yeah, my….partner….means so much to me. I'd be grateful if we could just have a few minutes together……privately, before he goes under the knife again.'

The nurse patted Boone reassuringly on the arm. 'Try not to be too alarmed. There are lines in his arms and he's on oxygen to help him breath. We have him hooked up to a monitor for his heart too, but its all standard. Nothing to worry too much about. I have to go and send his bloods off to the lab, so I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. Just don't tire him too much huh?'

The young cop nodded. 'I'll keep him so quiet, you wouldn't believe it' he said, smiling and headed into the room as the nurse took a silver dish full of vials of blood and left the two men alone. Boone walked over to the gurney and looked down at the injured cop. Starsky's eyes were closed and the oxygen mask covered most of his face, disguising the blue and black bruises. Nothing could disguise the swelling along Starsky's jaw line however, or the blackened, swollen mess over his left ribs. A tube stuck out of the cop's side, sutured in place and leading to a vacuum bottle containing blood stained fluid. Obviously the broken rib had punctured a lung.

At the movement next to him, Starsky forced his eyes open, expecting to see Hutch's concerned crustal blues looking down at him. He had so much to tell his partner and he couldn't rest until he had the fucking bastard Boone banged to rights. His eyes spread wide in horror as he saw deep brown eyes gazing at him instead of the baby blues he'd been expecting.

Boone grinned. 'Happy to see me Starsky?'

'Fuuuuuk yoooooo' the brunet whispered through his mashed jaw.

'Aww, is that any way to greet the man that Hutch thinks saved your life? You'll make me blush.' Boone took the oxygen mask away from Starsky's mouth and nose. 'We have some unfinished business. Let me make you more comfortable. We can't have you blabbing to that blond bimbo you call a partner, can we?'

The bleeps on the heart rate monitor attached to Starsky's chest started to increase. The numbers on the screen rose from 88 to 120 as Boone leaned over Starsky's body and grabbed the transfusion line. He peeled off the tape fixing it to Starsky's arm and ripped the needle out of the vein. Starsky let out a yip of pain and tried to bring his other arm up to fight off Boone. He was no match for the other, younger man however and Boone easily held him down as he stared into Starsky's eyes.

'I should have finished you quicker back there. It would have been a kindness. You're fucked anyway. Say bye bye Starsky. Maybe I'll see you on the other side huh?' As Boone continued to hold Starsky's gaze, he placed his hand firmly over Starsky's nose and moth and pressed down.

The brunet felt as though his lungs had shrivelled up and died. The pains in his chest receded as the overwhelming need for oxygen took over his consciousness. Starsky managed to bring his arm up, pushing Boone away with all his remaining strength, but he was no match for the younger cop. Added to his injuries, the pain meds that the doctors had fed him made his reactions slow and sluggish and his limbs felt like lead. The beats on the monitor topped out at 149 and still Boone cut off his air. Speckles of red showed around the periphery of Starsky's vision as Boone leaned into him, smiling down at him as he hissed 'Die damn you, die' into Starsky's ear and still the brunet's will to live kept him fighting.

The strength was leaving him now through. His arms fell away although he willed them with all his might to remain where they were. His lungs were on fire and Starsky heard a deep, low drumming in his ears as his body fought to use every bit of stored oxygen it had. His vision had closed down to a pinprick and still all he could see was Boone's laughing face.

They say that when you are about to die, your life flashes in front of your eyes. For Dave Starsky there was no momentary flash of inspiration. He didn't see a bright light and if he had have done, he would not have felt any inclination to walk towards it. No, Starsky was blazing mad that a young pipsqueak like Joe Boone should take him out in this pointless way. Anger consumed the brunet and yet at the back of his mind a still, small voice told him "Give it up. Rest. It's easier that way."

'Nooo' Starsky shouted back at the voice in his head, although a vague whisper was all Boone heard. The young cop could see the light going out in his victim's eyes. He'd never been so up close and personal to anyone he'd killed before. Always in the past he had used a gun, preferably a long distance shot and had felt little remorse at the death. This time, with his hand pressing down over Starsky's mouth, the proximity to death was almost too much. Boone hadn't expected that overwhelming look of recrimination in Starsky's eyes, or the look of anger on the brunet's face. The emotions he felt coming off his victim's body in waves were almost palpable in their intensity and instead of feeling empowered at taking another man's life, Boone felt sick to his stomach. For a brief moment, the younger man almost gave up. Only the thought of his ultimate arrest and years in jail kept him from lifting his hand and allowing Starsky to breathe.

Boone leaned in even closer. 'Give up the fight Starsky. Make it easy on yourself, why don't you? Just give up and die…..please?'

And in that moment the voice in Starsky's head said "ok". The brunet relaxed. His fight had gone. He'd done the best he could but he hurt so damned much. It wasn't fair. Life hadn't been fair. He should have been able to live into a full and frindship filled retirement with Hutch at his side and yet life seemed full of pain and emotions so raw that Starsky had no name for them. He'd had enough. He'd suffered enough. It was time to settle into the inevitable and Starsky let himself fall back into the long dark tunnel that had opened up to receive him. His last conscious thought as he plummeted down the black hole was, of course, Hutch.

Boone watched the light fading in the deep indigo eyes beneath him and his heart leaped. He'd done it. He'd carried out his plan and life from now on would be good. He'd be a hero and the brunet thorn in his side would be but a memory. His hand trembled against Starsky's mouth and nose as he leaned in for the last time.

'Bye Starsky. I wish I could say its been a pleasure knowing you.'