Hi All,

Sorry for the long delay in updating this story. My muse took an extended hiatus and finally returned just the other day. Thank you for your patience and continued interest in this story. I hope this chapter is worth the long wait and I hope you don't have to wait that long ever again for an update. (Fingers crossed)

Chapter 11

Van Hall Institute

'Hutch is missing'

Starsky read the words again and felt as if ice water had been dumped on him, his mind raced and he leaned against the wall for support. What had happened to Hutch? Had he been moved from Van Hall to somewhere else? Had Bycroft had assisted him somehow? Or had Hutch simply wandered off alone into the cold Minnesota winter? But what if Hutch had been kidnapped? Her note has simply stated 'Hutch is missing'. So few words, so many possible –and negative- outcomes to those words.

Pulling out of his inner thoughts, Starsky looked for Bycroft, but she was far down the hall away from him, her heels made a rapid tic-tac as she beat a hasty retreat.

He regained his composure and surreptitiously looked around to see if anyone had witnessed his momentary lapse. Starsky limped back to the reception desk and told the lady there that he didn't feel well enough to be interviewed today. One look at his face and she readily believed him. He left without further comment.

XXXX

Hours later

Starsky disinterestedly flipped through the menu of the bar and grill with the mildly amusing name of 'The Duck-Inn'. He shook his head as he looked out the large window for what had to be the hundredth time. He checked his watch, then checked the wall clock. Nurse Bycroft was over an hour late for their meeting. He anxiously drummed his fingers on the table. 'Where the hell is she?' He thought as he glanced at the note she'd scribbled to him at Van Hall, thus assuring himself that this was the correct place and well past the correct time.

"Top off your coffee?"

"What? Uh, no, no thanks." He'd been too distracted to notice the approach of the waitress and he barely paid her any mind now.

"Gonna order anything or are ya still waitin' on your friend?" She clicked her pen, preparing to write down his order.

Starsky sighed, eyes glued to the view outside. "Yeah, still waitin'."

The disappointed waitress clicked her pen again and strolled way.

The curly haired detective knew he'd be here until Bycroft arrived or they kicked him out so they could close the place. Having dated a few nurses in his time, he knew that sometimes they had to work double shifts and that was likely the reason she was late. He needed to find out what she knew about Hutch. He returned his gaze to the picture window and watched as a squad rolled slowly through the parking lot. There weren't many vehicles out there now, earlier there had been but it was a weeknight and most of the patrons had eaten and left, a few -such as himself- lingered on.

A police car rolling into the lot and parked next to the Torino, the officers got out and strolled into the building.

They stood in the doorway, squinting as their eyes had to adjust to the light, looked around. "Who's the owner of that Torino out there?" The heftier of the two officers asked.

Starsky looked up, but hesitated responding. He had a feeling that they weren't asking because they admired it. He was about to reply when the waitress pointed him out.

"It's his."

The brunet grabbed his cane and carefully stood up to address them. "Yeah, it's mine. Why'dya wanna know?" He worked at keeping his tone friendly, not wanting any trouble with the local police.

"Come with us, please." The pudgy officer said.

"Why?" Starsky drew the word out, apprehensive about this turn of events. He mentally quickly did a run down on what he'd done that day to see if he had broken any laws. He hadn't, as far as he knew. 'Well, except for entering the hospital under a false name…'

"We can discuss it at the station, sir." The cop spoke as if the brunet was slow on the uptake.

"We can discuss it here, Andy. Or are you Barney?" Starsky replied just as slowly, his anger rising and the idea of not wanting trouble with the locals disappearing as quickly as it had come. Still, he could have bit his tongue at his own comment. He had the feeling that his mouth had just gotten him into trouble.

"Well since you have such a smart mouth on ya, you can just wait until we get to the station to find out." The pudgy officer smiled and twirled his index finger around in the air, indicating to Starsky to turn around to be handcuffed.

"You're arresting me? You can at least tell me the charge." And as an after thought, added, "Please." The detective struggled to calm himself. He knew it would lead to bigger problems –as in more charges- if he tried to fight them.

"Trespassing, for starters."

Starsky knew exactly what they were referring to, but opted to play dumb in an effort to find out just what they knew. "Trespassing? This is a public area, a bar and grill-"

"A bar and grill? Really, is that what this place is called?" The hefty officer interjected sarcastically. "And yes, trespassing. You were on Van Hall Institute property under a false name and under false pretences." He clicked the cuffs on Starsky's wrists. "I have to thank you for the compliment. I love 'The Andy Griffith Show' and Andy was a very smart cop. Especially when it came to pitting his wits against 'big city' cops such as your self. Too bad you weren't bright enough to use a different, less distinctive car during your little escapade. Otherwise, we might still be looking for you."

The other officer chuckled.

Starsky bit his lower lip to keep from saying anything else, even though he desperately wanted to point out that Andy Griffith – from the show- was a fictional TV cop, with several writers behind his wit, he wasn't a real cop at all. But the detective stopped himself. He'd made one colossal error already today and was disinclined to make another. How many times had Hutch bitched to him about the exact same thing? Too many and now it was biting him in the ass. The guy was right. Starsky knew he should've used a rental car or maybe even a cab.

The officer grabbed the Bay City cop by the elbow and assisted him to the waiting squad car.

XXXX

The disgruntled detective was taken to the town hall, which was a combination town hall, post office and police station. He was directed to sit and he complied, sticking his aching left leg out and wishing he could massage the pain away was the arrest report was being laboriously typed out. The small town cop – who Starsky mentally called 'Barney Fife'- clacked away on the ancient typewriter, intent on doing a proper job on the paperwork.

"Where is he? Dammit! I demand to see him. NOW!"

Startled by the shouting, Starsky sat up straighter in the wooden chair he was sitting on. He knew that voice and he was not looking forward to the confrontation that was about to take place with Richard Hutchinson. The Bay City detective slowly got to his feet and leaned his hip against the desk to prop himself up. He didn't want to be sitting down when Hutch's father confronted him. He once more cursed himself as a fool for driving the Torino to Van Hall.

"He's in here, isn't he?" Richard's fist pounded on the door. "Where. Is. He?" Each word was carefully enunciated.

"Mr. Hutchinson –please- calm down. We haven't finished our preliminary-"

The door burst open and Richard Hutchinson stomped his way over to Starsky. "Where is he? What have you done to my son!?" The tall older man reached out to grab the handcuffed detective.

'Barney' –whose real name was Edger and the slightly younger of the two Moose Lake officers- stepped forward and fended off the grab, "Mr. Hutchinson, please calm down. We've only just started to-"

"I don't care what you've started to do. Whatever it is, I'm going to finish it." The elder Hutchinson changed his angle and made another attempt to grab Starsky. "Where is Kenneth?"

"I don't know where he is." Starsky stated honestly. He didn't know. Bycroft knew that Hutch was missing –according to her note. But that didn't mean she knew anything more. But she must, otherwise why arrange a meeting? That's why he'd been waiting for her. And since he didn't know what she was going to say, he wasn't going to implicate Bycroft. He'd keep that information to himself, at least for now.

If Richard didn't know where Hutch was –and Starsky was sure he didn't. There simply was no way that the older man was not faking his anger and concern for his son. Maybe the old man wasn't such a miserable bastard after all.

Richard faked a move to the right and went left, out maneuvering Officer Edger. He grabbed Starsky and roughly jerked him close, attempting to use his six foot four inches of height to intimidate the shorter, younger man. "How long have you been planning this, huh? What is this sick fascination you have with my boy? You've been nothing but a bad influence on Kenneth since the day you met and now you've kidnapped him!"

"The HELL I did!" The detective felt his teeth rattle with the hard shakes the senior Hutchinson gave him. He fought for his balance as his still healing left leg gave out. He gritted though the wave of pain the forceful shaking was reawakening there, his anger overrode his physical pain. "And it's NOT sick! We're friends – don't you understand the concept? Though that might be difficult considering you've obviously never had any real friends in your life! I came back because –restraining order or not- Hutch is my friend and I want to help him-"

"You call kidnapping him helping?" The older man backhanded Starsky, the forceful blow made the curly haired cop bounce off the desk and –having his hands cuffed behind him, had no way to break his fall and he landed in a heap on the floor.

The elder Hutchinson leaned in and shook his index finger in the fallen detective's face. "You call sabotaging your nurse's accomplice of yours car helping? First you're responsible for the damage my boy suffered and now you're responsible for his disappearance. And now you are going to pay for your crimes."

"NO! I haven't committed any crime! I didn't get to see Hutch. I went to Van Hall looking for him. I admit that. But I didn't know he's missing!" Starsky lurched forward, struggling to get his legs under him and get back to his feet. "And I certainly didn't try to hurt Nurse Bycroft. She might be the only one that may know what's happened to him. She was going to meet me at the Duck-Inn and tell me… something. Something else is going on here-"

Richard grabbed the front of his shirt and hissed in Starsky's face. "Bullshit and lies. I'm betting what really happened was that you had her help you kidnap my boy and then you attempted to eliminate her by cutting her brake lines. You're going to spend as much time behind bars as legally possible. But first, you're going to tell me where my son is and you're going to do it now. Once I get him back, and if the nurse lives, I'll see you get decades behind bars. But if you don't and my son and that nurse die, you'll be up for murder. And I'll make certain that you never see the light of day again."

XXXX

1 day earlier…

Hutch sat in the cold little building surrounded by tools and some machines used to cut the green stuff and push the white stuff around. His teeth clicked loudly together as he hugged himself, trying to keep warm while he waited. He tugged at the thick knit hat on his head.

This was the first time he'd been out since being brought here from Mah-mah's and Stern-face's home. At least it was the first time he remembered being out. He wasn't supposed to be out though. It felt good, but still, if he were caught it would mean big trouble for him and for nurse Dor-ris.

Every little sound made him startle in near panic, fearful that White-coat or Burly had found him. That they would jump out and grab him, drag him back into the big building and make him stay there forever.

Still, a part of him wanted to go back. And that thought thoroughly frightened him. He clutched himself at the notion, his reluctant right arm flexed weakly, but Hutch didn't notice.

Out though… He shivered again, but this time, not with the cold.

Out was new.

Out was scary. Nearly as scary as back.

But, while in the h…h… Hutch hissed through his teeth when the 'h' word refused to show itself. He settled for the word back. Back there, he had slowly begun to lose himself. Bit by bit. He'd stopped fighting them. What was the point, really? He always lost. They always won.

His days in his room were long, lonely and only broken only by trips to the watery bury-you-in and push-plunges. He'd gotten to the point where he almost welcomed the mind numbing routine. The not talking. The not thinking. The not caring.

That was until Dor-ris arrived. She talked to him. Looked him in the eye. Touched him, run her fingers through his hair. She didn't treat him like furniture, like a thing to be moved about, but not spoken to, or listened to. Not that he'd spoken to her yet, since he wasn't completely convinced this wasn't another way to break him down. Like offering food to a tail-wagging-furry, only to kick it when it got too close.

He nervously chewed his lower lip, weighing his options. Stay Out, or go Back.

Back was warm and regular food. Back meant no thinking, no decisions.

Back - he knew what was expected of him and what to expect from the people around him– usually. And when they put him in the watery bury-you-in, he could see Dark Curls again –in his mind. In that special place, he could go where it was warm, sunny and open. There he would sit next to Dark Curls and watch the sun sink into the big water.

But this was out. He'd wanted out for such a long time too. He wanted so very badly to see Dark Curls again that his chest-thump-thing ached with the wanting. Liquid burned in his see-ers. He batted it away, wiping it on the sleeve of coat. Only if he were out could he hope to find the real Dark Curls. But sometimes in the darkest and loneliest hours of the night he wondered if his friend might be dead. There had to be a reason that his curly haired friend never came to visit.

No. He wouldn't believe it. Something was keeping Dark Curls from coming, only his befuddled mind couldn't figure out what.

He tightened his grip on the heavy, large coat Dor-ris had given him and fingered his newly darkened hair under the hat. It was now a dirty dish water color, not the bright, sun color it had been. Dor-ris had done that. Had given him the items he had on now, hid him in a wheeled-push-dirty-clothes-around and got him outside. Once there, she'd led him to this little building and gave him a container of water and a small bag with fruit, bread and meat things to munch on. She'd made him understand that she wanted him to stay here until she came back. But now it was dark and she still wasn't back.

The door remained closed. He got up and limped around the little room, trying to keep warm. Dor-ris had said to wait here. Well, he thought that's what he thought she'd said. Hutch had taken a big chance in trusting her. It had taken him a long time to begin to hope once more and now he was starting to think that maybe he'd been tricked - again. He stared at the closed door. It wasn't locked. He'd checked right after she left, just in case.

He walked over to it and peeked out. White stuff was falling from the darkened sky. Reminding him of something…

It slowly dawned on him. It reminded him of the last time he'd clearly remembered seeing Dark Curls. The white stuff… a car… a winding… path. Rapid movement, a flash, a shout and… and… Hutch's heart pounded in his chest and he felt a deep ache that wouldn't go away. His friend wasn't here and that was wrong. His whole being told him that Dark Curls should be here. Helping him.

Unless…

Unless something happened… perhaps something was keeping him away. Like if he were dead. Put in a bury-you-in and stuck in the ground. The blond quaked at the thought, but couldn't make himself believe it though. It didn't feel right.

But what if Dark Curls had seen him when he was worse? When he had water-from-mouth? Maybe he didn't know –like Mah-mah and Stern-faced – didn't know that Hutch was better now? That might keep Dark Curls away. But somehow that didn't feel right either.

That meant just one thing.

Hutch would have to go find him. Mah-mah and Stern-faced didn't listen, wouldn't help. They only watched him from a distance now and never from in the same room any more. But Dark Curls would listen. The best part was that they could talk with out words. Just looks, emotions or a small touch. That was all they needed.

The blond blew on his hands to warm them as an idea formed in his head. He should go look for Dark Curls. Find him and… and … he wouldn't be alone any more. His friend would never send him back. He wouldn't need words to convince Dark Curls of that.

Hutch cautiously stepped out into the white stuff and shivered as the cold wind ruffled his hair and fluttered his heavy coat. He hobbled slowly toward the arched metal swing-open and by the cars. What to do now? Fearfully, he glanced back at the building. He would be in so much trouble if the caught him out. A vehicle drove by him. He watched it disappear into the falling white stuff and darkness.

He spotted a metal box on a short wooden pole and leaned on it, lightly panting for breath. It had taken a lot of energy just to get this far. He wasn't used to walking anywhere near this distance. Plus his right leg still was not moving like it should and most of the time he had to drag it awkwardly.

Hutch balled up his fist and hit the nearly useless limb in frustration. Another car went by. The blond knew he needed a ride to get anywhere. Especially if he didn't want to end upgoing back. A ride would also be warm. But riding with a stranger was scary. Bad things could happen. He looked towards the direction of the building.

He wondered if out wasn't as dangerous and freighting as back.

If he went back, he knew he'd be turned into living furniture and lose himself -forever.

A big vehicle drove passed him. Hutch tried to remember how to get a ride. Talking was out. Everyone looked at him funny or ignored him when he tried.

As he pondered his problem, he played with the red thing on the side of the metal-box-on-post, flipping it up and down. The red thing was a signal one made to get someone to stop. He knew that this was a signal to get the bills-and-papers delivery person to stop and take bills away with him. He raised the red square up and pushed it back down.

A signal.

He didn't need words with a signal. The answer came to him and a small smile wavered cautiously on his lips as he put his left hand out at the next car that came down the road and lifted his thumb. The car stopped and he slowly climbed in.

"Whereugoin'?" The man asked.

The words ran together and he could make no sense of them. It was a question. Hutch knew it was from the tone and the way the man's voice rose slightly at the end of the words. But he couldn't force a response out and his face contorted with the effort.

The driver gave him a concerned look and shifted uneasily in the seat. "Dontwannotrouble."

Hutch spotted a colorful, folded paper direction-finder on the seat next to him. He gave a small smile and pointed at the big black W on the four-point star labeled with N, E, S and W on the front. He patted his throat and tapped on the W, hoping the man would figure out what he meant and not toss him from the car.

"Ohcanttalkhuhalrighticantalkenoughforthebothofus."

Hutch didn't understand a single word. But the tone was one of understanding and the man put the car in gear and they pulled away. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be on his way in a warm car and he looked out of the window at the falling white stuff, the driver's voice droned on and on until the man repeated one word.

"West."

The blond turned to look at the driver, cocking his head slightly to the side. He'd understood that word. Not knowing how else to respond and needing the ride, he nodded. The guy smiled at him and jabbered on. Hutch let the words wash over him as he clung to the one word he'd understood.

West.

Toward the place where it was warm, where the sun sank into the big water. The place where he and Dark Curls lived. Hutch smiled and nodded as the man continued to babble at him, he'd do nearly anything to extend the ride and was happy that he now had a plan and a direction.

West.

Yes, that's where he wanted to go, and life would be much better once he got there.

West.

TBC