Okookokok, to save a riot, here's another chapter (sniff). Sheesh!

Chapter 20

The large, smooth, cream coloured Cadillac car driven by Huggy screeched to a halt outside the apartment block and Hutch looked up at the miles of cold grey concrete. The building looked more like a fortress than a residential block and stared out mournfully at the surrounding area. So much to search! How the hell could he search all that on his own? Panic set in at the thoughts of the monumental task ahead of him. He could almost feel Starsky's life ebbing away as he started his search and he immediately opened the door and got out. Huggy mirrored the action and stood waiting for orders.

'How in God's name am I gonna find him in there?' the blond moaned softly.

Huggy looked up at the building and sighed, scratching at his dense curly hair. 'Well try thinkin' logically' Huggy offered. 'Seems to me if I had a prisoner, I wouldn't want to make life too difficult for myself by haulin' his ass all the way to the top of the buildin'. And there again, I wouldn't want nothin' too close to the entrance either. Maybe we start on the ground floor at either end of the place an' work our way in?'

Hutch nodded, thankful that he had Huggy with hi. He was a wildcard, but he also had the ability to come through in a crisis and the blond was eternally grateful to the lanky black barkeep. It seemed as good a plan as any and as he started to walk to the entrance door, he checked his Colt before throwing a small Berretta to Huggy. The black man caught it and looked at it as though he were expected to blow his own brains out with it.

'Hey man, you know I don't touch these things' he protested.

'Hug, whoever has Starsky could still be around. An' even if they aren't, you said yourself that this could be a trap. You don't need to use it. Just wave it at anyone that gets in your way. They'll get the message.'

With a grunt signifying his disapproval, Huggy thumbed on the safety, pushed the small weapon into his waistband at the back of his pants and followed Hutch inside the building. The blond was still weak and he staggered slightly as he made his way into the dim corridor. Not much light got to the centre of the building for which Hutch was grateful. A fine sheen of perspiration gleamed on his brow and he felt sick and light headed. He leaned heavily against one wall, knowing that if Huggy saw how bad he was, the black man would try to force him to wait in the car. In the distance, he heard sirens and breathed a sigh of relief. Once the ambulance was here, time taken in saving his buddy would be cut down dramatically.

Looking up and down the hallway, Hutch motioned with his hand. 'You take that way, I'm startin' down there' he muttered and set of at a slow lope to the end of the corridor.

Apartments branched off the main corridor at regular intervals, their red painted front doors open for the most part. There was a smell of damp and mould and stale urine signifying that the place was used by vagrants, itinerants, cats and God knows what else. It felt cold and damp, even though the Californian sun beat down on the building constantly, but the sun didn't get into the shadowy nooks and crannies and an air of gloom and doom permeated the very fabric of the building. Cautiously, Hutch pushed open the first door right at the end of the corridor. Gun pointed out in front of him, he braced his back against the wall and whipped himself round the corner and into the main living room. Nothing! With senses still on high alert, he checked out each deserted and unfurnished room, including the small broom cupboards and the cupboards in the kitchen. Still nothing and with a sigh, the blond forged on to the next deserted domicile. One down, lots and lots still to go.

Three apartments later, Hutch was beginning to feel weaker, more tired and a lot more disheartened. It was like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. So may rooms, so many doors, but only one brunet and not a lot of time to find him. He wiped his hand over his forehead, the fingers coming back slick with sweat. Hutch shook his head to clear it, mentally chastising himself for taking a break and as he walked to the next front door, he saw on the ground a plastic wrapper. He toed it out of the way as he walked past. "Strawberry flavoured Popsicle" the label read. The blond snickered. So kids used the place too huh? It was just right for them. They could play houses, hide and seek, you name it, and he could just imagine the entreaties of their parents not to go to such a deserted and dangerous place.

Pushing open the door once again, Hutch crouched, gun still ready. He peeped around the corner into the living room which this time held a ripped and torn leather sofa and a TV which had had the screen smashed in. It was the first time the blond had come across any signs of habitation and although this place wasn't the Waldorf, his nerves hiked up a notch, feeling he may somehow be getting closer. Checking out the rooms down the apartment's central hallway, he came first to a small bathroom and then a kitchen. Both were empty and without any hope, Hutch pushed open the door to the final small bedroom.

Carefully he poked his head around the door and his heart skipped a beat, his breath held as he saw the body of his buddy stretched out on the floor of the cold, mean room, his curly head pillowed on a Spiderman cushion. Throwing caution to the wind and holstering his gun, Hutch yelled to Huggy that he'd found Starsky and to get the medics and then he rushed over to the body on the ground.

Hutch knelt by the side of the brunet and gave a strangled cry as he saw the damage Sue had had done to his body. The whole left hand side of Starsky's torso was black, the left arm bruised and swollen right up to his neck. Cuts and bruises marred the olive toned but now pale and cold skin and there was a stain of blood mixed with other things on the front of his jeans. Starsky looked to be dead and with a trembling hand, Hutch reached out and touched his buddy.

Starsky's skin felt cold. Almost as cold as the concrete floor on which he lay and there was no response to the blond's hand. Chocolate curls lay matted and dirty, flat and lifeless above a pale and swollen face and Hutch thought he could see that the brunet's jaw had been broken.

'Oh Starsk. What the fuck did she do to ya buddy?' Hutch whispered fighting back tears.

Gently, almost afraid to touch him, Hutch rolled the brunet onto his back. The body was limp and without tone and stayed where he'd placed it, the right hand, showing a huge and infected burn flung out to the side as if waiting to embrace Hutch. Starsky's chest was bruised too and the damage seemed so great that Hutch stopped hoping that he'd been in time. With shaky hands, he felt for a pulse in Starsky's neck, digging his fingers deep into the dusty, dirty flesh in his search. He could feel nothing and he put his head in his hands as a single tear splashed onto the brunet's chest.

'God Starsk….I'm so sorry. I tried to get to ya buddy. I tried.'

Hutch collapsed back onto the ground, his hand resting on Starsky's lifeless shoulder. The light had gone out of the world. His light had gone from his world. He'd sworn all his working life to protect Starsky and to watch his back, and yet he'd failed. He'd failed to stop Gunther from finally killing his buddy and suddenly nothing else in the world mattered. Starsky was dead.

Stiffly, Hutch sat by his partner's body and waited. He didn't look up as the paramedics came in, followed by Huggy Bear. He didn't even look up as one of the men told him to move. His mind seemed to have closed down to everything apart from the fact that he'd failed in his one promise to the brunet. He was numbed with shock and loneliness.

Hands took a gentle hold of his shoulders and pulled him away and as though from a great distance he heard someone tell him to sit still, everything would be fine. But everything wasn't fine and he needed to tell them.

'He's dead. He's dead, Hug. Starsky's dead. He's fuckin' dead. He's dead Huggy.'

The black man sat by his side as the two paramedics started to work over Starsky. As one broke out oxygen and giving sets, the other checked manually before slipping a stethoscope into his ears and placing the horn onto the brunet's chest. He moved it, listening carefully as Hutch watched fatalistically. What was the point? Why was he bothering?

As the man looked up he nodded to his partner. 'We have a heartbeat, but it's slow and irregular. Start an IV, get the O2 on him and let's get him to Memorial as fast as we can huh?'

The blond's heart skipped a beat, the paramedics words finally sinking into his numbed mind. 'He's what?' he asked. 'He's not dead?'

The two men were working quickly on the brunet, calmly inserting lines, injecting fluids, checking vitals. The one with the stethoscope took a moment to check on the flaxen haired cop.

'Is he your friend? He's alive. Barely. But he's alive. If you'd have been maybe an hour later things would have been different. Right now, though, we need to get him out of here, and you don't look too good yourself. Let your friend here walk you out to the ambulance and we'll be along in a moment ok?'

Hutch looked up at the man blinking stupidly. 'What? He's alive? No, I can't leave him. Not now. I need to be with him. I need to…'

The blond struggled to his feet, his voice louder as he fought to get to his buddy. 'Starsky…. Starsk. I'm here buddy, right here' he whispered, falling to his knees by the brunet's body. He leaned down low over the curly head. 'Starsky, oh Jeez buddy. Open your eyes for me. Just once, open 'em for me huh? I have to know for sure, don't leave me now! Starsk? Please?'

Hutch looked down at his friend's face. Swollen, cut and bruised, there seemed little sign of life and yet, just as Hutch was about to give up, one eye – the one that wasn't swollen closed – flickered, stopped and then flickered open showing a tiny crescent of indigo blue so dark that it matched the bruises on the brunet's face. The eye opened, focused and looked right up into Hutch's face, recognition clearly reflected in it.

The whole world stood still in that one moment as Hutch waited, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Starsky's mouth worked hard at forming the words and finally he managed.

'Uuuut….sh…..what……kept ya?' the barely audible voice breathed as Hutch let out a moan of relief and fell backwards to collapse onto the floor next to his buddy.