Chapter 6

Sue sat on the bed by the side of her man on the bed and watched as Hutch's blond head tossed and turned feverishly on the pillow. She was amazed just how badly the death of his partner had affected him and that Starsky's name was never far from his lips despite the Vallium and her herbal teas. The golden face shone with a fine patina of sweat now as a deep V marred the otherwise smooth forehead. Occasionally, as he slept his drugged sleep, Hutch's crystal blue eyes would flash open, showing crescents of cerulean blue from beneath blond lashes that lay like a summer fall of snow across his lightly tanned cheeks.

It had been 12 hours since Huggy Bear had been to visit him and Sue had been angered that the black man had put in an appearance. Hutch had been calm before the visit, but since she had shoed Huggy out of the house with a flea in his ear, her boyfriend had done nothing but sleep and dream and moan Starsky's name again and again.

As she watched, he seemed to have another of the dreams and Hutch's body stiffened on the bed, his lips working to frame his partner's name and his arm reaching out to grab wildly for a body that was no longer there. Sue took the hand that flapped uselessly by her side and hung onto it, using her other to wipe away the small trickle of sweat that meandered it's way down the blond's pained face. He refused to quiet and she reluctantly disengaged herself from his grip and got up. Walking into the kitchen, Sue grabbed a glass and filled it with cold water, adding the contents of a paper wrap from her purse. The golden powder dissolved instantly in the water but for good measure, she stirred it round with a teaspoon. Taking three Vallium tablets from the bottle, she placed them on a spoon, using the back of a second spoon to crush and grind the pills into a fine white powder. This too she added to the water and swirled it around before heading back to the bedroom.

Sitting down on the side of the bed, Sue shook Hutch's shoulder gently.

'Ken, wake up honey.' There was no answer, and she tried again, shaking a little harder. The drugs certainly did their trick in knocking the blond out and she had to raise her voice before the sound penetrated the blond's sleep.

'Hutch….Ken…..wake up honey. You were having a nightmare. Wake up and have a drink huh? Come one honey, I need you to wake up for me.'

This time, Sue was rewarded with the sight of clouded crystal blue eyes peeping from under heavy lids.

'Sue?'

'Hey, there you are. I needed you to wake up, you were having a nightmare.'

'Starsk…..always Starsky.' Hutch tried to haul himself up the bed a little. He managed to gain an inch or two of elevation before sagging back onto the pillow, his arms refusing to take much of his weight. He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face and then through his hair. 'I see him every time I close my eyes' he muttered.

Sue's face was a picture of compassion. 'I know you do honey. It's only natural. Of course you'll think about him. And it's probably a good thing that you do. Kind of to keep his memory alive.'

'I couldn't ever forget him' Hutch snorted softly. 'Did I tell ya about the time we….'

'Are you thirsty?' Sue interrupted, seemingly unaware of her man's need to talk about his partner.

'Huh? Oh….um….no, not really.'

'Well you should drink anyway. It's good for you to keep your fluid levels up. We wouldn't want you to get sick, would we?'

Hutch took the glass with a shaky hand and sipped at the cold water. 'I feel like shit already. I guess I should look after myself, but…. Sue, I'm sorry honey. I'm ignorin' you. I should be helping you out, you must miss him too. An' here I am, sick an' sorry for myself. It's just….. Every time I close my eyes, he's there. Almost like he's callin' to me. Does that sound wrong?'

The woman smiled. 'No, not wrong honey. But maybe it's time to start moving on. Maybe it's time to start thinking about what to do next.'

'Like what? All I really wanna do is sleep. I feel so damned weary.' And it was true. The blond could feel the tiredness sweeping over him in waves again and his hand holding the glass dropped to the bed, his finger refusing to hold onto the slippery surface of the glass any more. 'Damn' he cursed quietly. 'That's not normal. I hate to say this, cos I hate 'em, but maybe I should see the Doc again?'

Sue shook her head. 'You'll be fine honey. Everything's as it should be. Don't worry. I'm gonna make sure everything works out.'

It was Hutch's turn to smile up at her as she patted his shoulder gently. 'What would I do without ya? You're so good for me.'

'Oh now don't go getting all soapy on me' she muttered and then stopped, seeing the fleeting expression of pain flit across Hutch's features. 'What? What did I say?'

'S'nothin'. It's just….Starsk always used to use that word. Soapy. He once told me he hated soapy scenes. It was just…. It sounded odd comin' from you.'

Sue sighed. 'Maybe we should start trying to work this out. I think the first thing, if you're up to it, is trying to make some sense of it all. We need to do some calling, organise the um…..funeral. And what about the car?'

Hutch's mouth went dry. 'The fire was only 36 hours ago honey. And Dobey said they couldn't have a funeral until the autopsy.'

'Autopsy? Why would they need an autopsy?' Sue asked sharply. 'He didn't die under suspicious circumstances. It was just a random fire.'

Hutch could feel his heart rate hike up a notch as he started to think rationally for the first time about Starsky's death and the ramifications and he licked at lips gone inexplicably dry. 'They have to do one coz he was….his body….his bbody was so badly burned that it couldn't be identified. They need to establish that he was who he was.'

There was something of a brittle edge to the sound as Sue laughed. 'But that's silly. He was Jewish; he should have been buried by sundown should he? Or something like that. Why wait? Isn't it cruel to put everyone through an autopsy when it was patently obvious who was in the bed?'

'I guess you could look at it that way honey. But that's the law and we have to abide by it. It's just…. I should phone his Mom. Do you know if Dobey phoned Rachel yet?'

'No, I have no idea. At this autopsy….what do they do?' Sue asked

'Do? I….. I don't wanna talk about it. It's just……they make sure it is who they say it is, go figure.'

The woman looked pensive. 'And they look for distinguishing features?'

'Sue, don't. Please. It's too….I don't wanna talk about it' Hutch said wearily.

'Do you want to talk to Rachel?' she asked

The blond drew in a breath. Did he want to talk to the small firebrand of a woman? No, it wouldn't be his first choice, but he felt he needed to have some sort of contact with the Starsky family, if only to salve his own conscience. 'Um…..I guess so.'

Sue rose and placed the telephone down on the bed beside the big blond, patting his hand encouragingly. 'You'll feel better when you start to get it together' she said.

Waves of weariness washed over Hutch. His hand shook as he reached for the phone and his vision started to waver around the edges. Swallowing hard, he blinked, squeezing his eyelids together and shaking his head. Hutch's throat was dry, although whether it was from the sickness that had overtaken him or the thoughts of speaking to Rachel he didn't know. Concentrating hard, he jabbed at the buttons on the telephone and waited, resting his head back on the pillow with the receiver resting against his ear.

As he waited, Hutch remembered the good times he'd had with Starsky back in New York. Thanksgiving dinners when they'd all met round the cramped table in Rachel's dining room. New Year spent in Times Square watching the fireworks. With Starsky at his side, the world took on more definition, more colour and more magic. The phone at the other end picked up and with an effort, the blond managed to form the words.

'Rachel, its Hutch.'

'How are you doing?' the woman's voice sounded tired and drained.

'How are you Rachel? I'm so sorry….so sorry' Hutch mumbled.

'I know…..Hutch? Are you alright? How are you doing? Captain Dobey telephoned me to let me know before anything hit the television or newspapers. He said you'd taken it badly.'

'M'ok, I guess.'

'You don't sound it my love. How are you really doing Hutch? You and my Davey were always so close.'

Hutch swallowed down the lump that threatened to stop him speaking. 'I've been better. I feel so…… so wasted.'

'You don't sound good. Hutch, they won't let me bury him. They won't let me bury my Davey. They won't even let me see him. Captain Dobey said there was no point in me coming down there until after they'd done all the investigations.'

'I know it's tough Rachel, but we can't do anything until after the aut……after the autopsy.'

'Hutch my love. When they do the...when they've finished with him, do you want his rings? He'd want you to have them I know, but I'd like to give his watch to Nicky.' There was a strangled sob down the telephone. 'It's not real Hutch. I can't believe it's real. I can still feel him near me. My Davey. He's…..it's like I know he isn't dead, even though they say he is. I didn't feel like this when Michael was killed. That was so cut and dried. I don't know how to describe this. Its like he's still here, with me.'

'I know what you mean Rachel. I feel the same way. I guess someone as alive as Starsky leaves a huge hole when he di….when he isn't there any more.'

'Hutch, look after yourself. I'll see you soon my love. Be well, and don't forget him.'

The blond smiled to himself at the woman's caring words. Just like her son, Rachel was hurting so much and yet cared about others rather than herself. 'Be careful and look after yourself Ma' he said as he put down the phone.

Hutch's eyes slid closed. Tired. More tired than he'd ever felt before and yet he shouldn't be that way. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. He ought to pull himself together and get with the plan. Starsky wouldn't want him to be like this. His partner's voice sounded in his head.

'It's always worse on the ones left behind….'

'I'll believe that when I hear it from someone who went first'.

They'd joked about it in the weeks after Bellamy had shot the brunet full of poison, but now….. Now the words had a hollow ring to them.

A moment later, Sue came back into the room, a bright smile on her face. She tucked the covers around Hutch's body again, snugging them up to his chest as she sat down by the side of the bed, a pencil and paper in hand.

'I was thinking about Starsky's car' she said brightly. 'I think now would be a good time to think about what to do with the few possessions he left behind. I think you should sell the car, so maybe we should think about the wording for the advert?'

'Sue, no. I can't. It's too early' Hutch protested. The woman was probably only trying to help, but still, he felt that it was far too early to think about practical stuff like cars and personal effects.

'We need to move on' Sue said firmly. 'The sooner we can start to do this, the easier I'll be for you to get well. Now….' Sue twirled the pencil in her fingers and dropped it onto the floor. Muttering, she reached down to retrieve it, the sleeve of her blouse riding up her arm, and as she sat back up again, Hutch's eyebrows creased into a furrow of worry.

Surrounding his girlfriend's arm was a white bandage, a spot of red at its middle. Gently he reached out and traced it with his fingers.

'Sue…..what did you do at your arm?