CHAPTER 20

"Where's that Doctor?" Starsky grumbled irritably. "I want to go home." He pouted as he sank down on the edge of his bed and began swinging his feet back and forth restlessly. Hutch smiled indulgently, the image of a little boy upset because he didn't get his way flashing through his mind.

"He'll be here. Just relax," Hutch told him calmly. After three days in the hospital, the doctor had finally given in to Starsky's whining and agreed to release him as long as he had someone available to help him out. That was Hutch's job and he took it quite seriously when it came to his partner's well being. Starsky might complain and whine about needing a babysitter but Hutch knew that Starsky really liked the extra attention that Hutch lavished on him when he was sick or hurt.

Starsky's bruises had faded to various shades of blue and a yellowish brown. His ribs were tightly wrapped to support his broken ribs and the gashes on his torso had been cleaned and stitched. His other injuries had been treated and the doctor assured Hutch that there was no permanent damage. Hutch hadn't talked to Starsky about what had happened. There would be plenty of time for that later, after Starsky was out of the hospital in more comfortable and familiar surroundings.

Hutch had his concerns about how Starsky would deal with what had happened to him. Starsky was the most self-confident and courageous men that Hutch had ever known but that self confidence and courage was part of Starsky's overall masculinity. And what had happened to him could threaten that masculinity. Starsky hadn't talked about his ordeal preferring to forget it and move on but Hutch wondered how much of that indifference was an act. Hutch knew better than anyone else just how well Starsky could hide his true feelings when he chose to. Hutch hoped he could tear down that wall before Starsky built it too high even if he had push a little hard to do it.

A nurse appeared at the doorway with a wheelchair. Smiling brightly, she said,

"You're free to go, Mr. Starsky. The doctor just signed your release papers."

"I'll take that," Hutch said with a smile as he stepped forward and took the wheelchair from the nurse. As the woman left to tend to her other duties, Hutch grinned at Starsky and gestured at the wheelchair.

"Oh, come on…," Starsky grumbled "I ain't getting in that thing. I can walk."

"Hospital regulations. You know that." Hutch reminded him. "Now be a good boy and get in so we can get out of here."

Starsky scowled but did as Hutch said. He settled into the wheelchair with a heavy sigh and waved a hand over his shoulder at Hutch. "Happy now?" he growled.

"Ecstatic." Hutch told him with a chuckle. He knew that Starsky's foul mood would ease as soon as they left the hospital. Neither one of them were very good patients and the hospital staff was usually more than happy to see them go.

Hutch had parked the Torino in front of the main entrance when he arrived at the hospital so they didn't have far to go. Starsky stood up without assistance and opened the door sliding into the front seat with slow, careful movements. It was the only outward sign Starsky gave that he was still experiencing some pain. Hutch pushed the wheelchair back up by the entrance and hurried around to the driver's side.

He slid in under the wheel and inserted the key in the ignition. The powerful engine roared to life and Hutch pulled forward in the drive. He could feel Starsky watching him carefully. The burnet seldom let anyone else drive his pride and joy and on the few occasions when Hutch did drive it, Starsky always watched him like a hawk to make sure he didn't scratch the finish or strip his gears.

Hutch never could figure out why Starsky was so attached to his car. It was just one of the quirks that made Starsky who he was. To Hutch a car was a car. It was just a way to get from point A to point B without walking or relying on public transportation. When he was growing up Hutch had ridden in and driven some of the finest automobiles built. Everything from a Mercedes Benz to a BMW. As an adult, he tended to buy used cars that looked like they wouldn't make it to the end of the block.

A comfortable silence fell between the two friends as Hutch maneuvered through the downtown traffic to Starsky's apartment on the west side of the city. Starsky lived at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac that gave the illusion of being in a secluded area when in reality it was only a mile from several fast food restaurants, pizza joints, and other stores. It was the perfect apartment for the city born and bred Starsky. He enjoyed the peace and quiet of the location without sacrificing the conveniences that he craved.

Hutch pulled the Torino into the driveway and parked beside his battered brown LTD. Starsky climbed out of the car and waited patiently for Hutch to do the same. Jingling the keys in his hand, Hutch led the way up the short flight of steps to the deck that ran along the outside of the building where Starsky's apartment was located. He unlocked the front door and pocketed the keys as the two men stepped inside. Starsky immediately made his way over to the sofa and sat down with a relieved sigh propping his feet up on the coffee table.

"How ya feeling?" Hutch asked automatically. "It's still a couple hours before you can have anymore pain meds."

"I'm fine," Starsky said offhandedly "Just a little stiff. I could use something to drink."

Hutch walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "You got milk, orange juice and coke." Hutch called out to his partner.

"How about a beer?" Starsky called back

"Now while you're taking meds and you know it," Hutch reminded him.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you were mean?" Starsky shot back. "Bring me a coke then and I'll just imagine it's a beer."

Hutch got a bottle of cola for Starsky and a glass of juice for himself. Sitting down on the sofa beside his partner, he handed Starsky his drink. Both men relaxed back against the cushions comfortable in each other's presence. There was no need to talk they communicated freely in other ways.

Finally, Hutch broke the silence between them. "You wanna talk about what happened?"

"No," Starsky said firmly. "I just wanna forget about it and file it away with the rest of the bad memories."

"You know it doesn't work that way, Starsk," Hutch reminded him calmly. "If you don't talk about it then it'll just fester and eat you alive inside."

"Back off, Hutch," Starsky warned him in a determined voice. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay," Hutch said soothingly, accustomed to his partner's stubborn nature and volatile temper. "We'll drop it…for now. But we are gonna talk about it sooner or later." Hutch's voice was just as determined as Starsky's, his tone making it clear that he meant what he said. Sooner or later they would talk about it, with or without Starsky's cooperation.