Starsky

"Hutch!"

You would think that after spending far too much time in a mental hospital a few years back, my partner and I would know better than to try it again.

"Hutch! Hang on, buddy!"

I set the example for how to be the worst inmate in the world and paid for it. I've never slept so long or so hard in my life. I even offered to be the patient again this time but Hutch, my buddy, my partner. He insisted that it was his turn.

"Stay where you are. Don't move. Just hang on!"

This time around it was a lot harder to keep track of one another. I was stuck in the suicide watch ward, and Hutch was over with the patients with obsessive disorders. People who couldn't stop biting their nails, or sticking themselves with pins, or eating worms. Like drug addicts but with the weird stuff instead. The voluntary ward.

"Oh Geeze. Hutch! ...not the ladder."

The place where the otherwise sane people turn themselves in for their own safety. The problem was, somehow the people in the obsessive voluntary ward were ending up in the involuntary suicide-watch ward. We were there to figure out how and why.

"It's okay, Starsk. I can fly. I know I can fly."

"No...no, you can't fly. You can only crash and burn."

You see, one or two families losing the black sheep of the family to an institution wasn't likely to draw a lot of attention. But twelve people all dive bombing off the hospital roof, and none of them depressed when they went in. That was a problem. A problem that twelve families, mothers, fathers, daughters and brothers were waiting for us to solve.

"Aw Hutch...couldn't've picked a shorter building..."

We weren't going to solve much with Ken "Birdman" Hutchinson trying to fly off the roof with nothing on but a pair of boxer shorts, a neck brace and a paper and string kite. I wasn't so fond of heights myself and the ladder I was climbing was starting to wobble dangerously. Hutch had one foot on the low wall that bordered the roof. Far too close and far too happy about it.

"David, David, David. I can help you fly too. I've got the magic."

"You got drugs is what you got." I topped the roof, breathing hard and trying to figure the best approach. Was there enough time to walk up slow and talk him away from the edge? Should I tackle him and hope it didn't go horribly wrong. Would he even go down?

"You remember the case, partner?" We hadn't drawn a crowd yet. It was 3 a.m. and but for the night guards there wasn't anybody out on the floors. If I hadn't been on my way to check on Hutch before clocking out for the night I wouldn't have known he was up here. His room had been empty. He'd been restrained but he'd managed get out of them.

It explained why his chart had been misplaced earlier in the day. Why Doctor Klinefield had been absent most of the day. Why my partner was trying to fly.

"Case? Case of what? Beer? God, I could go for a beer right now, Starsk."

Hutch started to put his other bare foot up on the edge, crouching in preparation for that final leap.

"NO!" I shouted, breathlessly aware of the loud echo. "No...not a case of beer. Hutch...the case. Remember? We're police officers. We're undercover."

One foot lowered back to the roof and Hutch's face, free of the usual ponderous look, closed into a frown. Fighting against the effects of the drug. A drug that turns normal people into bodies, just surely as cocaine.

"Case…"

"Yeah...a case. A very important case that's gonna cost a lot of lives, including yours, unless you come over to me right now." I was shaking and trying not to let it show in my voice, or the hand that was outstretched. I was taking baby steps toward him any time he looked away, praying he didn't notice.

Both feet were now firmly planted on the roof and Hutch turned, stiff due to the neck brace.

"But...if I go now, when will I fly."

I laughed, wondering if there really was a line between insane and whereever Hutch and I were in that moment. "They'll be a time to fly, partner. I promise. I'll take you up in a plane, I'll build you your own set of wings. I'll sew you a parachute by hand. But right now we gotta solve this case, right? Do our jobs."

He was nodding, agreeing, turning to face me. We were thirty feet apart. Then twenty-five. Then twenty when the ponderous look started to fade and a beatific smile flooded his face.

"Starsky…" he said, shaking his head at me like I was a foolish mortal underestimating the abilities of the gods. "I control time…" He said, stretching his arms out and up over his head. "I control space."

He took a step backward, then another, his heel brushing against the low wall. He stepped up, backwards, with one foot and my heart leaped out of my chest. I jolted forward three steps until Hutch put his palms out to stop me.

Not a threat, but like a magician quieting an audience before performing a death-defying trick. Except that Hutch wasn't going to defy anything, no matter what that drug was whispering in his ear.

I was desperate. Clutching anything until I remembered something. A conversation from long ago that I'd never gotten to the bottom of.

I could barely breathe, could hardly speak, and my face was wet. "Hutch…" I managed, swallowing around a fist-sized lump. "You can't see down."

His neck constricted by the collar, Hutch made an awkward quirk of the head and said, "What?"

I took another step, and another, my hands out, begging him silently to step towards me. "You-you can't jump...because you can't see down."

Hutch shook his head, still focused on me but clearly not understanding. Not remembering.

"It's a rule, remember. You're not afraid as long as you can see down. But uh...you can't see down."

Hutch tried to look down but the collar stopped him.

"So you probably shouldn't fly right now. B-because if you try now, what if you get scared? And I haven't learned how to fly yet. So you'd be all alone...up there."

Another step and I could almost reach him. One lunge and I could wrap my arms around his waist and drag him back onto the roof.

My chest was heaving. I was going to have a heart attack and follow my partner to death's door, then come back so that I could haunt the quack doctor that killed us. "Can't break the rules, Hutch. We're cops."

And like that Hutch stepped down. He seemed sturdy at first, taking two steps towards me before his knees buckled. I grabbed him and pulled, landing butt first on the rooftop with my partner in my arms. His skin was freezing and clammy despite how warm the night was.

He needed clothes. A blanket. I shucked the white coat I'd been given for my cover and laid it over him, rubbing at his arms and chest while my heartbeat continued to race.

"Starsky?"

"Yeah, partner."

"What are you crying for?"

I looked down to see a childlike frown of concern creasing Hutch's face. He even had a sincere little pout. I laughed, wiping at the wetness on my face. The laugh took control of my lungs for a moment, somewhere between a sob and wheeze. It took a while before I could talk again. By then Hutch's frown had disappeared and he was smiling at the joke, even though he hadn't heard it.

"I'm afraid of heights." I said, choking on another round of laughter that seemed out of place, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. Hutch joined me this time, sounding more like himself, his eyes losing some of their bliss-filled vacancy.

"You should spend less time on the roof then." Hutch said and we were both goners.