Thank you "CHOKING" readers... i love ya

He wanted help… but the question was what kind of help could anyone offer him to blindside the bogeyman. Something unnatural had happened on that island—and Hutch, even in his most analytical calculations, couldn't come up with an explanation that made any sense. He and Starsky had seen the face of malevolence…been in its presence – drank from its cup. He didn't believe in possession and the calling up of spirits from the depths of hell.

But there was good and so there was evil.

Maybe that evil was just one person's deliberate passion to reject all things pure…or things of good report… anything of virtue…anything just. Maybe all of the Bokor's spells were created by his own belief that he could do such things. Maybe…

But how could one dark soul's vision inspire enough vehemence to make

Starsky try to kill him?

Would hours of psychoanalysis help him make sense of it? Was there a way out of the nightmare? Hutch didn't think so.

All he had was the devastating memory of the horrible attempt of Starsky trying to strangle him.

There was no way to whitewash the truth.

There was no good… no virtue in the act perpetrated against him.

Still –he was conflicted. He wanted…needed to believe in the strength of the bond between them. As much as his mind tried to make him see Starsky's assault for what it was—an attempt on his life--- Hutch's heart wouldn't

accept that deduction. His chest ached…beating out a protest for Hutch

to follow it's lead. Starsky loved him more than anyone on earth was the mantra it pounded—over and over…

There was no one to talk to…to tell them about how he was struggling…how much he hurt. His mind and heart locked in battle...

He tried to kill you…

No-- he loves you…he wouldn't hurt you…

hates you-tried to kill you- you were there – you saw the look in his eyes…

… no Starsky loves me—my best friend…my brother..

no he's not-- he tried to kill you—he tried to kill you…

-oooo-

Huggy didn't have all the details of how the Bay City Police Department was going to deal with the "incident" of violence between two of their detectives. He did know that none of what had been done had helped Hutch at all. If Dobey or his bosses thought keeping his friends separate was going to help the situation they couldn't have been more wrong. Both Hutch and Dave would suffer from the ridiculous ruling and the skinny man let Dobey know how he felt about it. He made a visit to the large man who had little patience for a "street hustlers" interference in police matters—and actually had told Huggy that on more than one occasion. Huggy though, was surprised to find--- that after spewing out a nearly two minute speech which concluded that the decision to separate the friends must have come from men who had the complete and combined intelligence of a horse's posterior---Dobey was nodding his head in silent alliance.

"Amen." The Captain said, sitting back in his chair he also added, "My sentiments exactly."

"Well..." Huggy stared back – a bit lost for words. He had expected Dobey to pouce on him and throw him out of his office. "So…ahh... you agree?"

Dobey jumped in to explain, "Look-- I don't agree with their decision. But my hands are tied. Right now…Huggy... I'm at a lost. Both of my boys..." He just sighed and so did Huggy as he took a seat in a chair nearby.

"This investigation, "Dobey clarified with disdain, "It's out of my hands… I can't do anything to stop it. One detective's assault of another officer …It's all up to Internal Affairs. You think I wouldn't put a stop to this if I could?"

Huggy studied the question and the helpless sad brown eyes that were looking at him.

"Sorry. Man." Huggy said. "I guess—I'm just pissed off. This stinks to high heaven. If anyone had bothered to ask me—or even talked to Hutch and Starsky--- they would know this is wrong--- for both of them."

"I know that—but I'm gonna tell you something else I know, Huggy. Those two are gonna find a way to work it out…. I believe that with all my heart. Yes I'm worried as hell about the damn situation…. But like I said… my hands are tied. There's nothing I can do."

Huggy's shoulders slumped. Dobey couldn't help his friends.

So Huggy continued taking care of Detective Kenneth Hutchinson. He also reached out to Hutch's partner. Making nearly a dozen calls to a missing-in-action Starsky—left countless messages on his answering machine. He had driven by the shorter cop's home a couple of times after closing up the bar—Starsky was holed up inside. Huggy could see the flicker of a TV being viewed in a dark room but the barkeeper couldn't make the walk up the front stairs. It wasn't like he was the bearer of any good news.

It made him sick. What had happened to men who were his brothers? Huggy thought about what Dobey said—

—I know--those two are gonna find a way to work it out… I believe that with all my heart.

Huggy decided – he would believe that to. Until then—Hutch was in his care. Until life was back to normal.

The order from Internal Affairs that Starsky and Hutch no tot have any communications between them was certainly a major issue--- but the biggest problem at the moment was the investigator IA had assigned to the case.

The irritating Officer Simonetti had a Napoleon complex and Starsky and him had rotten history. Some beef, no one quite knew the where, whys, and hows of… Maybe—Huggy thought - maybe it was just primal.

When the skinny bartender had asked Starsky about it one night a few years back after witnessing a heated exchange of insults between them—Starsky had growled, "I just don't like the guy. He's heartless. Gets his kicks torturing other cops --like some teenage bully." Huggy had left it at that.

Putting the squeeze on Starsky was likely going to bring untold pleasure to one Officer Simonetti. In Huggy's humble opinion, it seemed like the annoying short cop was biting at the bit to put Starsky behind bars—or at least fired from the police force.

The way Huggy had heard the story told—Simonetti had been instrumental in getting the brass to take the case seriously---and pushed for the commissioner to mandate the partners' separation. He also was the one to throw the words "attempted murder" into the mix. Without his campaigning in the background to pursue criminal charges, the top cops might have just trusted Dobey to determine if there was something to the assault. The not so impartial investigator claimed he didn't want to give Starsky and Hutch any opportunity to consult and come up with some contrived story. How was a person so focused on taking Starsky down supposed to run a clean investigation? The man could care less about the condition Hutch was in.

It was obvious to Huggy that Simonetti was going after Starsky and using Hutch in his broken state to do so.

-ooo-

The caretaker took his job seriously. He was trying to stay out of police business but he knew he wouldn't let the badgering go on much longer.

Officer Simonetti had showed up at the Venice Place apartment unexpected and aggressively demanding Hutch's cooperation with the investigation. He needed to ask a few questions he told Huggy, who had answered the door. The skinny man had suggested to the officer to leave and to only return after he had the decency to call and set a time to interview Hutch.

But the blond-haired man had heard the exchange and told Huggy to let the IA cop in.

Huggy hated to do it--- but he moved out of the rude man's way. Now he wished he'd slammed the door in his face.

Simonetti took a seat next to Hutch on the couch and within minutes lit into the blond detective with the ferociousness of a well-trained attack dog.

"It's not a pretty picture, Hutchinson. You got to see it up real personal." Simonetti said jabbing a finger almost to the point of contact with the bruising on Hutch's neck.

"Your partner is a maniac. Pure and simple. It just took you a little longer to find out what everyone else already knew."

Huggy watched his friend's eyes squint back his disdain for the man in his face.

Simonetti crowded the object of his full attention, adding mockingly. "You know, whose to say--- he won't try it again. You think you're safe? Man – you're wrong." Flicking a thumb in Huggy's direction, he said. "Think this skinny lowlife—is gonna be able stop him..."

"Jus…stop." Hutch uttered, bringing a hand subconsciously to his throat. "Stop."

Simonetti got louder, the veins in his neck bulging revealed his frustration. "Then sign it!" He insisted as he fanned in the air the statement he wanted Hutch to swear to. The one that said Det. Kenneth Hutchinson believed Det. David Starsky had tried to kill him.

"Just--- sign it, Hutchinson!"

"I-I'm not gon...I'm…not signing that..I…don't remem-"

The heated man cut off Hutch's weakly spoken refusal…"Well, I'm getting tired of this. Why? Why are you defending him? You're a cop, man. I used to think you were a smart guy—but…you're acting like idiot—he's got you fooled—big time. You're just gonna let him get away with it? Until he hurts somebody else… how you gonna feel then… huh? Make him pay—sign it!! Or are you stupid…"

Simonetti's verbal thrashing had zapped all of Hutch's strength and Huggy saw his friend's head drop wearily in the opposite direction of the paper Simonetti was aggressively flapping in his face.

Huggy stepped up, working his way in between IA officerand Hutch. "Look, man –you're getting awful personal. I thought this was supposed to be objective. Why are you attacking him like that? If he don't want to sign it--he' don't have to sign it! The dude told all of you he don't remember nuthin'."

But Simonetti pushed the barkeeper aside with a dismissive shove. "Hutchinson? Do it, man. I'll have him behind bars before sunset! You're a fool if you don't—hear me?"

Hutch struggled to get off the couch. To get away from the verbal assailment.

Huggy saw it coming. Hutch was reaching his crisis level. The blond cop stalled as he stood—his eyes sent out the cryptic message. Terror was in them.

"Back up!" Huggy said to Simonetti, keeping his concern focused on his friend, who has now sucking in air like he couldn't get any.

The IA investigator countered. "I hope you're not interfering with my investigation," as he gave a butt of his shoulder to the bartender.

"I mean it." Huggy stared him down. "Back up!" he said, as he made a gentle touch to Hutch's arm. "Hey man, what's wrong?"

The black man took charge. "Get out of here." He ordered, pointing a finger in the face of the short mean cop. "Now. OUT!"

"Fine. I'll be back, though." Simonetti stated as Huggy eyeballed the man while he gathered up his paperwork.

Hutch slipped away from view.

As soon as the investigator was gone, Huggy hurried to the locked bathroom door. "Hey, man. You ok in there?" He inquired with a tentative knock. "Hutch?"

-oo-

Seeking a hideout in the small room had been a major mistake.

Hutch felt entombed. It didn't help stall the twisted and twirling ride of emotion and doom pulsing through him.

"Yeah." He called out weakly to his friend standing on the other side of the door.

And then, "No." To the request from Huggy to let him in.

A person locking themselves in the bathroom meant they wanted privacy—although he could have made the same statement by seeking such refuge in a much larger space like his bedroom. He hadn't put much thought in making a run for it. Hutch just saw the opportunity to get away from the cruel taunting of Simonetti—who under any other circumstances, Hutch would never have welcomed into his home. The guy was an irritating ass a hundred times over.

If Starsky had been there…

That thought drilled its own brand of horror through him and he stopped walking the circle he had unconsciously committed to from the moment he had flipped the lock on the door.

He reached out to steady himself, and knocked some toiletries off the sink onto the ceramic tile.

The crash startled him and he jumped. The sound must have startled Huggy too because his tone turned demanding as he continued to tell Hutch to come out.

"G-go home." Hutch answered shakily. His cheeks flushed with the familiar heat. "Shit." He mumbled.

"What!" Huggy called out.

"Nuthin' Jus go home, will ya?" There was no way the blond-haired man was going to give his friend a peek at the meltdown he was about to have.

Maintaining one's manhood was hard work.

Hutch's male ego was as healthy as the next guy's. He wanted to look good, smell good. In fact, he had found a little shop in Chinatown, where there was an old man who mixed up a special blend of essential oils, grasses, spices and smoky woods and bottled it just for him. A scent, the old man claimed captured the true essence of Ken Hutchinson. His wardrobe--- definitely spoke to his individuality. He didn't mind surprising people with an embroidered linen shirt or a well tailored camel-colored leather jacket. Kept a decent cut in his hair. Wasn't vain—but he was mindful of staying in good shape and had a habit of eating right which his parents had enforced on him as a kid. He didn't need to spend the day in front of the mirror to know he wasn't bad looking. He was pretty aware that people noticed him. Also that they looked to him for leadership. He had been deliberate in choosing a life and a career that put him in the position to help other people. Hutch wanted to be the kind of person people could depend on. A person that was strong in belief, body and work ethic – he believed himself to be a good man.

Now--- what would those people on the job who respected him or the criminals of Bay City he wanted to fear him think if they saw him now? Wouldn't they all get an eyeful? One of Bay City PD's decorated sergeants cowering in a bathroom. Barely able to stop a whimper. It was ridiculous.

Hutch wrapped his arms around himself. He needed air… more air…

and he was in a small room--- no window…no air….no oxygen –

He shook angrily at the pathetic sight he made in the medicine cabinet mirror…. Pathetic and weak.

….and scared.

Scared of what? Damn it, Hutchinson.

Starsky was nowhere in sight.

What was generating so much terror in the tiny space? The sink? Toilet? Hey maybe it was the shower curtain—he cruelly mocked.

The blond-haired cop couldn't stop what was coming – he'd have to go through it to get on the other side of the attack.

He groaned pitifully and let it happen. It was the only way.

When it was over he found himself a lump on the bathroom floor—washed out and pale, sweat soaked… red-eyed…wasted..

Not a very honorable place for a man.

Huggy could knock and yell until doomsday—Hutch wouldn't let him see what he'd become.

A pitiable sight.

-oooo-

"Huggy?"

"You gonna let me in or what?"

"Yeah sure—even if you're the rudest visitor I've had today." Starsky responded, although obviously tentative about letting the unexpected intruder into his trashed abode.

Huggy stepped over a small hill of mail to enter. "Looks like I'm the first visitor ever," he commented while his head did a 180 degree sweep of the piles of books, dishes, and clothes that scattered the apartment of a man who had been shut up behind doors for far too many days.

"Another shut in," The bartender mumbled.

"What's that?" Starsky was already aggravated by his new guest.

"Look—you gotta do something." Huggy got to the point.

"Do something? About Hutch?" he deduced instinctively.

"Yeah Hutch! Who d'ya . . . think I'm taking about?" Starsky wasn't the only one who was aggravated.

"Huggy." Starsky, in clothes rumpled from days of wear, was getting angry and loud. "Why are you coming here—you know I can't do anything. I'm not allowed. Anyway, I tried to talk to him—asked him right out to go to a shrink—the both of us. He won't do it."

"Oh yeah—so you just gonna leave it at that. His protests never stopped you before…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Starsky was angling for a fight.

"He's bad, man is all. You're over here on some self-induced guilt trip…and he's over there…" Huggy, emotionally spent, shook his head in distress.

The dark-haired man picked up on the futility in his friend's demeanor and softening, inquired, "What's going on with him?"

"He's hurtin' man--all the way around. He won't listen to me--like he would you. I can barely get him to eat...he's shut me out. So, while you're here having a pity party-- I don't know how to handle 'im. He's stubborn and you're bull headed--- You guys are gonna drive me crazy."

Starsky touched his friend's arm to express his appreciation. "Sorry Hug."

"Yeah… well that and a new suit wouldn't get me a Monday night date."

The comment did get a smile from the cop before he said, "Alright, alright. Gotcha. What else? There's more?"

"Of course there's more! IA vultures, nightmares, closed doors…"

"Wait. Nightmares? About Playboy Island? About me?"

Huggy gave a stiff nod—not wanting to confirm the truth. "Look, he ain't talkin' about em'. He's acting like it's no big deal. But I can tell it's--there's something else—I don't know…"

"What are you sayin'?"

"I can't explain it. He gets---antsy. Looks like he's …I don't know—scared. Like Medusa just showed up and he's the only one that can see her. I know that don't make no sense – but somethin's gettin' to him and he freaks—then locks himself up in the bedroom or bathroom. Sometimes I had to leave him like that— a bar don't run itself, you know." He added with sarcasm.

"Ok OK." Starsky said, chewed at his lower lip as he contemplated the situation. "Alright. No more pity party. What d' you got?"

"What do you mean--what do I got?"

"You burst in here, Hug—make a grand speech. Now you're on the inside. You see him everyday. What do I need to do-- to get to him? Fix things, What!"

No easy fix. For sure, Huggy thought. The skinny man shrugged. "I don't know, man… but I know when somebody's in trouble. And our bro is in it deep."

The nightmares Hutch had tried to keep to himself--Huggy had been discreet enough not too mention to the blond-haired cop that it was he who had been bedside most evenings to quiet him. Not just so the detective wouldn't damage his vocal cords but also because he was deeply fond of the officer.

Seeing Hutch suffer silently about his neck and Starsky's absence was hard.

And it was excruciating watching Simonetti beat Hutch down with proclamations of Starsky's twisted personality and Hutch's naivety. Too blind to see what others knew all along. Hutchinson's partner was a loose cannon-- a danger to his fellow cops. Then the IA cop ran down a list of minor infractions on Starsky's record—making him sound like a beast a burden.

Hutch had been too sick to fight off the bulldog investigator. Huggy saw him try to. But-- the recuperating man didn't have a voice to defend his best friend…and what he also didn't have was a reasonable explanation for Starsky's action.

You see… there was this Bokor…

That comment might just get the blond-haired cop committed to Cabrillo State.

"Look--Starsk." Huggy said. "I don't know man. Just do sumpthin'--and do it quick Hear what I'm saying?"

"I hear you."

The bartender could almost see the determination ignite in the dark-haired man's face. Before leaving he told his hermit friend, "And ah--you might wanta pick up around here—looks like a pigsty."

The rustling sound of a magazine flying through the air was a welcomed sound to the fleeing black man.

(tbc)