Chapter 20

To close out the sound of his partner's voice yelling at him, Hutch staggered over to the radio and switched it on, turning up the volume to drown out the other noises. It was typical late night listening and the last song had just finished. The DJ's slimy voice was telling the world that it was 1:00 in the morning and time for all the good folks of Bay City to be in bed, and to put them in the mood, the next song was just for them. Hutch smiled wryly as the strains of Simon and Garfunkels "I am a Rock" filled the room – how apt!. The blond flung himself down on the sofa, head in hands and let the music wash over him.

A winter's day, in a deep and dark December

Ok, December. Right. And just how dark does it seem Hutchinson? Peering up through the gloom? Is there an end to this? Will he ever be ok again? How long did it take you to come down - to kill the cravings? Maybe you still haven't after all these years. Maybe that's what scares you the most - that you could so easily have one more shot yourself and sail with him out into oblivion.

I am alone, gazing from my window to the streets below on a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow, I am a rock, I am an island.

God I've never felt so alone. He's right there in the next room and yet I can't talk to him; get through to him. I don't know what to do or how to help him. Or even if I can help him. I wish someone would help me. Someone just show me what to do, coz right at the moment, I'm fresh out of ideas. I just wish I could stop him hurting so much. Fuckin' Prudholm! Death was far too easy for that creep. Being a rock – yeah that sounds nice. No emotions, nothing to hurt when times get bad. Just cut off from the world on my own little island to get on with my life. Shit I don't know who to be more mad at – Prudholm for shooting him up, Starsky for not fighting harder, or me for being so damned useless.

I've built walls. A fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate. I have no need for friendship, friendship causes pain, it's laughter and it's loving I disdain.

Yeah, a fortress. Right now that sounds so good, like I wouldn't need to bother with anyone else. Like I could cut myself off and never have to feel like this ever again. But as for not needing friendship, I just need one friend right now. Starsk. But he aint at home. Right now he needs another – chemical - friend and I'm not prepared to give in to him. I can't give in to him, even though I know he hates me for being tough. But someone's got to be tough, right? Its true, friendship does cause pain, an' right now I think I'm hurtin' nearly as much as him.

Oh hell, this is a mess. C'mon Hutchinson, pull yourself together. He needs you, and right now, you need him almost as much.

I have my books and my poetry to protect me. I am shielded in my armor. Hiding in my room, safe within my womb, I touch no-one and no-one touches me. I am a rock, I am an island. And the rock feels no pain and an island never cries.

Is that what you're doin' Hutchinson? Hiding in your room? Yeah, coz you're too scared of what he's gonna call ya, an' probably what you'll end up callin' him. I don't want to hurt any more. I don't want to feel like this any more. Shit, right now, I just don't want to feel, period. Or maybe I do. Maybe I just want to feel normal again. Whatever normal is. Maybe I just want to be back in the car poundin' the streets, just to feel like everything's back where it should be. God Starsk. It was so damned tough when you got shot, but at least I could talk to you then, even if you couldn't answer back. Now, I can see ya right in front of me, but you're like a stranger to me with all that shit floatin' round in your bloodstream. I just wanna talk; I just wanna…..Oh fuck Hutchinson, don't get so damned soapy!

Hutch looked up from his dark thoughts as Huggy opened the door, letting the cool night air into the cabin. The flames on the fire flickered and danced casting shadows which went flying around the room and the blond sighed. The song on the radio had finished, oddly echoing his thoughts and feelings and in a way he could never have openly voiced.

'Hey man, you ok? Where's the curly one?' Huggy asked

'In there'.

Huggy looked at the bedroom door. 'Great! Ya found him. Is he ok?'

'Oh just peachy. He's madder 'n' hell at me, the world and probably himself, but he's ok'.

'Is it safe to go in?' Huggy asked with not a trace of humour.

Hutch snorted. 'Yeah. Great friend and bosom buddy that I am, I cuffed him to the bed. I didn't know what else to do. He was ok one minute. Contrite even. We even had a relatively normal conversation an' he said he was sorry. He got in the car and I drove him back, and then he changed' Hutch clicked his fingers 'Like that. Like he was two different guys'.

The lanky black man nodded. 'Well that's horse for ya. Shall I go an…'

He was interrupted by a shout from the bedroom.

'Hey Hutch. Hutch! HUTCH! C'mon Pal. Let me out'

Hutch stiffened, but did nothing. Was he ready for another encounter with his partner?

HUTCH. I can hear ya. C'mon, please. I need to erm….I need to pee'

Hutch and Huggy glanced at each other and Huggy winked his support as the blond got up and opened the bedroom door. Starsky was sitting where Hutch had left him, his hand still cuffed to the bed of course and now he jangled it softly against the metal bed frame and plastered a smile onto his face.

'Can ya let me up? I need to take a leak'. As if the emphasise the point, he wriggled his body on the bed. If the situation had been different, it might even have been funny.

The blond crossed to the bed and fished for the key to his cuffs. He winced and inwardly berated himself as he saw the fresh blood soaking through the white bandage round the brunet's left wrist and he carefully unlocked the cuff. Starsky said nothing, but sat for a moment rubbing at the soreness, his head down, not meeting his partner's eyes.

'Starsk, I'm sorry' Hutch started

'Yeah, yeah. If you were sorry you wouldn't'a cuffed me to the bed' the brunet said softly.

'What else was I supposed to do? I'm trying my best to keep you safe. Just throw me a line here'.

'By chaining me to the furniture? Swell. That the only thing you could come up with Hutchinson? Ya take lessons from Crazy George, or what?'

Hutch stopped as if Starsky had slapped him in the face. 'That's unfair'.

'Yeah. What about being an asshole and tyin' me up like a dog. Is that fair?' Starsky ground out, the anger welling up inside him again. He felt antsy and jumpy and the feelings were getting to him so that every nerve felt on fire and every muscle cramped. He wanted out; he wanted someone to take this feeling away; he wanted….another hit. He couldn't think past the craving. It consumed his every waking moment and his mind shut down all other rational thought until all he could think was heroin and all he could see were syringes and powder.

'Don't. Just don't say any more' Hutch pleaded, feeling the situation getting out of hand. But Starsky was unstoppable now, fuelled by his need. He stood up, his anger giving him strength and pushed Hutch out of the way. The blond was taken by surprise and staggered back a pace as Starsky bolted for the door.

Like a rattle snake, Hutch's long arm darted out and caught at the waistband of the brunet's jeans, the only clothing he was wearing and the impetus of the smaller man's flight and Hutch's grab sent both men spinning into the wall. The blond held his partner there, leaning his body into Starsky's, an arm across the brunet's throat. Hutch could feel his friend's heart beating wildly against his own chest and he stared into Starsky's indigo blue eyes, boring his way through the pain and anguish, drilling down to get to the man he knew was buried in there somewhere.

'You don't want to do this Starsk'.

'You don't know jack shit about what I want'.

'You're wrong. You're so wrong. I know exactly what you want. I know how it burns away at your soul. How it consumes ya, so that you can't think of anything else in the world other than your next hit. I was there Starsk. Remember? Remember how you sat with me through all those hours? How you forced that stinking coffee down my throat and cleaned me up when I threw it back up? Remember how I tried to put my fist through your head but then hit the door at the last second? You were so strong for me babe. I couldn't have got through that without ya. But now I don't think I'm strong enough to get you through this and I feel so fuckin' helpless'.

Hutch's crystal blue eyes bored into the brunet's, silently pleading with his partner to try to see it his way. He was faced with cloudy indigoes that reflected anger and need and fear and he wanted to be able to take those feelings away. If only he could wave a magic wand and make everything better. Hutch held his breath, scared to move and break the moment. And slowly, the smaller man's body relaxed a little. They stayed there for minutes; Starsky with his back to the wall and Hutch with his arm across his partner's throat, never hurting, but anchoring the brunet to the present.

Finally it was Starsky who broke the silence.

'You're the strongest guy I know' he said in almost a whisper.

Hutch took his arm slowly away from the curly haired man's throat, ready in a second to replace it if needs be. But there seemed to be a change in Starsky's attitude; a look in the eyes that said that Dave was back in town.

'I don't feel strong. I feel like a little kid. I feel like I should be able to do something for ya, an' I can't. I can't think of what to do an' its eating me up' Hutch said, his voice cracking with emotion.

'I don't wanna hear that. I wanna hear how you're gonna be there for me. You do everything for me Hutch. Everything. I couldn't have come this far without you. Shit, if it had been anyone else who'd found me, I'd be whipped off the Cabrillo in a straight jacket and pensioned off the force. You gave me another chance. And then I go an' try to run away'.

Hutch looked at his friend. 'Yeah, you tried to run away'.

'I needed more stuff an' it as the only thing I could think of to do to get more'.

'So you ran'.

'Uh huh'.

'In my jeans'.

'Couldn't find mine' Starsky said sulkily.

'And now you've gotten them all dirty'.

The brunet looked down at the offending garment. They were too long in the leg and concertina'd around his ankles. The waist was also less than snug and the pants hung from his hips in peril of falling down completely.

'You always had a rotten taste in clothes'.

'Better than your crummy blue jeans'.

'Well look on the bright side' Starsky said seriously.

'There's a bright side to this?'

'Uh huh. At least I didn't take your car'.