Chapter 25

It was around 9.00pm and the room was bathed in the soft glow of the lamps when Hutch rose stiffly from the chair in Starsky's living room. The two men had talked and talked about their relationship, their past, their job and their loves. Or rather Hutch talked and Starsky listened which to the blond seemed most unnatural. Usually it was Starsky who talked incessantly while Hutch tried to shut out the noise, but on this occasion, with the brunet sitting listening intently, Hutch felt that progress was being made. Eventually though weariness crept up on the blond and he stretched in his seat.

'I need to go buddy. Are you sure you don't want me to stay?' Hutch asked.

Starsky shook his head. 'You look how I feel. Go home an' get some rest, it sounds like we have a helluva day tomorrow.'

Hutch stopped for a moment. Progress. The "we" in that last statement meant more to the blond than anything else right now and he smiled an easy smile. 'You need sleep too Starsk. You know where I am if you need me.'

Starsky shook his head. 'Right now I don't, but I'm sure I'll still be fine. Go huh? We've talked all night and you've told me all about me, but I don't know a damned thing about you.'

'You will. That's the next chapter. Tomorrow.'

The brunet cocked his head on one side, considering. 'The doc told me that you were a drug runner and I was ex Army. What did they tell you about yourself…..and me?'

Hutch shook his head. 'Lies Starsk. They told me lies.'

'Like?'

'It doesn't matter.'

'It does to me.'

'They told me I was Ray Hunt, but that much you know. They told me I was a firefighter from Seattle.'

'And what did they tell you about me?' Starsky asked quietly.

'That you were the guy who raped my sister and left her to die in childbirth. I believed 'em Starsk. When I believed that you were Quade, I believed that you were a monster, but not now. You're my partner. We're cops and I'd sooner die than hurt you. We watch each others backs, that's what we do best and now I'm walking out that door before I get too sentimental. See you tomorrow bud.'

Starsky half smiled. 'I believe ya. And Hutch? Thanks. See ya tomorrow. Early.'

The door closed and for the first time in a long time, Starsky was alone. Alone with his thoughts and the new/old memories floating around in the otherwise blankness of his mind. So much had happened in the past 24 hours; so much for his brain to process and suddenly he was aware of a pounding in his temples from the headache he never knew he had. Slowly he rubbed at his head and then padded over to collapse onto the couch, elbows resting on his knees.

Hutch was his friend, not his enemy. It made sense because throughout all this, Starsky's mind had never once allowed him to seriously hurt his partner. As for the rest? Hutch had told him that Doc Herman could help, but the last time he'd trusted a doctor, Isaac had betrayed him. Or had he? Maybe Isaac had been fed the same lie that Starsky had. Doctors took an oath didn't they? First do no harm?

Starsky sighed and his eyes lifted to fall on the picture in a silver frame on his coffee table. It showed him and a beautiful woman standing by the side of a huge slide on a fairground. The woman – he knew it was Terri – was looking at him and smiling such a happy smile despite the small white band-aid on her forehead.

The brunet eased himself back until he was comfortable, the picture in his lap as his thumb drew small circles over Terri's face, God that woman must have been so special! Hers was the face he saw time and again in the hospital. Hers was the voice that echoed around his aching head and kept him sane and comforted when he'd felt so alone.

Slowly Starsky's eyes drifted closed and the curly haired man lapsed into sleep.

The sun shone through the jalousies across the window, sending small shafts of sunlight across the bed. Starsky awoke slowly. He was lying on his back, naked and his left arm was flung outwards, pinned down to the mattress by something warm and heavy. Starsky turned his head against the pillow and smiled contentedly at Terri as she twitched in her sleep. Something in her man's movements made her wake too and lazily Terri stretched, bowing her spine like a cat and turning on her side so that she could place one arm over Starsky's flat stomach.

'Good morning' she whispered into his chest.

'Well good morning to you too. Sleep well?' he asked.

'Like a log. What time is it?'

Starsky squinted at the clock and grinned. 'Time enough for more of what we had last night.'

Terri giggled, her voice like satin falling against the brunet's skin. 'Can Mr Wiggly manage an encore?'

'Mr Wiggly has been in training. You'd be amazed what he can do' the brunet said softly as his hand started to wander over Terri's body, cupping her breasts and playfully nipping at her nipples. She mewed beneath him and raked a furrow with her nails down the skin of the brunet's back so that he hissed and bent to nuzzle her neck.

With great care, the curly haired lover rolled over until he was above Terri, looking down into her big shining brown eyes. 'I love you' he whispered.

'I love you too Ethan' she murmured.

Starsky froze, his face turning ugly. 'Davey. You call me Davey. Who the hell is Ethan?'

For a moment Terri's face showed confusion and then she giggled. 'Oops' she said. 'Did I say Ethan? I meant Davey.'

Above her, Starsky's face turned angry. 'I asked who the fuck Ethan was?'

'No-one. Don't' be angry Davey. Make love to me. You're so much better than him.'

Starsky's temper cracked. 'You little whore! You've fucked another guy when you're my girl?'

'It was only for one night. You weren't here and……I love you Dave. No-one else.'

Lost in his blind rage, Starsky slapped at Terri's face. It was a stinging blow that knocked the woman sideways and the movement inflamed Starsky's temper more. 'You couldn't leave it alone! You want a cock every night, well here's one to be working on.' Without any preliminaries Starsky forced himself inside Terri, feeling himself tear at her entrance as she screamed beneath him, her hands battering at his back.

'No Dave! Davey don't do this, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Ethan!'

The struggles inflamed Starsky's passion more and he plunged himself into Terri again and again, enjoying her cries for help and breathing in her fear as though it were the finest perfume. His body worked against her, violating her as he'd never done before. When she fell silent, sobbing against him, he slapped her again and again, leaving white finger marks over her delicate skin until her lip split and a wound appeared on her forehead.

'Ethan…..I'm gonna die if you don't stop this. Ethan please.' Terri's voice was small, struggling for air and her eyes were glazing over from the blows that Starsky had inflicted. As he climaxed inside her body, Starsky looked down into those pained brown eyes and saw only love and trust.

'I'll always be there Davey' she whispered, right before she died.

Dave Starsky's scream woke him up from his dream, the noise reverberating around the silent apartment. He was still fully dressed and on his couch, the silver framed photograph of his woman still clutched against his chest, the front of his shirt damp with perspiration.

Fuckin' nightmare! Thank god it was a nightmare. He would never hurt Terri and he would never rape any woman.

Would he?

Starsky panted as though he'd run a marathon, his body still quivering from the vividness of the dream and carefully he put the photo down, unable to bring himself to look at the girl he'd treated so brutally, even if it was in a dream. What was wrong with him? Why would he dream such a thing?

Unless.

Was everything Hutch had told him the truth? Or was the blond hiding something from him? The guys that had cared for Hutch/Hunt in that hospital had told Hutch that he, Quade/Starsky was a rapist. Was there something in that? Was that the truth and everything that Hutch had told him a lie?

Starsky put his head in his hands and a single lonely sob escaped his lips. He didn't feel sorry for himself as much as confused, lost, lonely. His memories were gone and those that Hutch had re-seeded in his head were like lies. Could he believe them? Was he really Dave Starsky? Or was he Ethan Quade? And if he was, was he really a bomb disposal guy from the Army, or was he a rapist who really had killed Hutch's sister?

Starsky had nothing to compare himself against. He had no memories of his own and with the darkness in his strange apartment with his mind in such a whirl, he had no idea who to believe any more.

In a last ditch effort to preserve some of his sanity, Starsky reached for the telephone. He needed to talk to someone and the one he would have chosen to speak to was Doctor Isaac. That man had been kindness itself. The doctor had patiently put him back together again, had sat and listened to him, had dealt with his injuries and had even found a way for Starsky to get out of the hospital. He so desperately wanted to speak to the man and yet, as his fingers closed on the receiver of the phone, Starsky realised belatedly that he had no number to contact.

Flinging down the phone, the brunet lurched to his feet and made his way into the kitchen. Too many thoughts in his head. Too much confusion! He needed quiet if only for a few hours until his brain could rest and reset. In the morning he'd feel better, if he could make it through the night. Only alcohol or drugs would do it and almost in desperation Starsky searched his kitchen cabinets for booze. Coming up only with a bottle of Tequila with an inch of liquid left in the bottom, the brunet drained it, got his door keys from the back of the door and headed out into the dark to find the nearest bar.

As the brunet left the house and almost ran down the steps, the occupants of the car opposite sat up a little straighter.

'Wait until he's around the corner and then follow him at a discrete distance. He's on foot, he can't be going that far' Doc Isaac said softly to the other two men in the vehicle.

'Then what?' one of the huge orderlies asked.

Isaac sighed. It was like explaining E=MC squared to a kindergarten child. 'Then we follow him, chose the right moment and take him back to the clinic. I have more work to do on him before we let him go again.'