Here's a treat for those of you who are following this story (well I hope it is!) I'm going away for the weekend so I thought I would post the next chapter for you before I go. Enjoy...

Starsky vs Hutch

Chapter 4

Starsky awoke to a gentle hand stroking his face and hair. "Hutch?" he whispered, more in hope than expectation.

"No, David. It's me, Charlotte."

Starsky's face screwed up in puzzlement. "Charlotte?" he thought. "I don't know no Charlotte."

He forced his eyes open and was rewarded by the sight of a beautiful blonde gazing at him with soft, brown eyes.

"David?" she crooned in his ear, as she cupped his face with her hand and rubbed her thumb soothingly over a cut on his cheekbone. "David? Can you hear me?"

Starsky gave a short nod which sent a tsunami of pain rippling through his whole body. A small voice inside his head said "Don't trust her." But Starsky's body betrayed him, melting into the comfort she offered.

"I'm so sorry, David,"Charlotte continued softly, rubbing a hand lightly up and down his arm. "I tried to make them stop but they wouldn't listen."

Starsky frowned. He was struggling to understand what she was saying.

"Untie me?" he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, David. I can't do that. They might come back at any moment."

Starsky frowned once more. His brain still felt scrambled and he was finding it hard to process her words.

"David, you must listen to me..." she began but Starsky interrupted her.

"Hutch," his voice grated harshly. "You've got to escape and find my partner. Detective Ken Hutchinson. He's..."

Soft fingers pressed on his lips. "Shhh. He won't come."

Starsky struggled against the restraints. "Of course he'll come."

"Hush, David. Calm down. He won't come. He's stopped looking for you."

Starsky's movements stilled as a rogue tear escaped from the corner of one eye and trickled down his face. Starsky cursed this sign of weakness angrily as the tender fingers wiped the tear away. "No," he breathed. "Hutch would never give up."

"He's a cop, David. That's what cops do."

"He's my friend. Hutch will never stop looking for me."

Charlotte stepped aside and watched as Jackson and Whitman resumed their work.

"Maybe not. But by the time we've finished with you, you won't care about him or any of your cop friends," she said to herself.

Unable to protect himself Starsky passed out again and Charlotte took up position beside him, ready to dispense comfort laced with words of poison.

Over a period of several weeks the beatings and murmurings continued. Whenever he attempted to reject the indoctrination he was swiftly punished, so he quickly learned not to question anything.

Starsky tried to erect walls to protect his mind and soul but he was gradually worn down by the physical abuse. He found himself becoming more and more reliant on the solace Charlotte offered and little by little he came to believe her lies.

A tiny portion of the real David Starsky cowered behind the fortress he had built but he was trapped inside, unable to escape. The small voice could not be heard.

The beatings became less frequent and Starsky grew stronger as his wounds healed and he was allowed more food and drink. Charlotte told him more of his role in her enterprise and Starsky was eager for his first assignment, a kind of blood lust coming upon him.

At last his chance came. Charlotte was pleased to have an opportunity to try out her new toy. She had a burgeoning business supplying drugs. One of her pushers had not paid her what she was due despite a visit from Jackson and Whitman. She decided to set Starsky on him, rather as one might set a dog on a smaller defenceless animal.

The result was much as you would expect. Starsky was fully healed, strong, fit and programmed to fight. The pusher was small and weasly, and had been sampling his wares.

Charlotte was delighted with her toy's performance. She now had a deterrent that would satisfy her bloodthirstiness without dirtying her own hands.

The pusher's body was left as a warning to anyone who dared to cross the new dealer in town.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch perched on a stool at Huggy's bar waiting for his friend to finish serving another customer. The place was jumping and Hutch was beginning to regret calling in. It had been seven weeks since Starsky's disappearance and he was no nearer finding him than he had been when he started. He felt mentally and physically drained.

Huggy approached. "What'll it be, my blond brother? A special?"

"I'm not really hungry, Hug, but yeah I'll give it a go."

"Your regular booth is free. Go sit and I'll join you."

Hutch grimaced but realised Huggy had something to tell him, so he got down from the stool and shuffled over to the booth he usually shared with Starsky.

Huggy watched his progress worriedly. Their friend's disappearance was weighing heavily on both of them but particularly on Hutch. Huggy knew he wasn't eating properly, his clothes were beginning to hang off his lean frame, his cheeks were sunken, his hair and eyes dull. He watched as Hutch flopped down wearily, screwing his eyes tightly closed and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Huggy sighed, grabbed the plate that had appeared as if by magic and put it on a tray with two coffees. "Hold the fort, Diane. I'll just be over there with Hutch." Diane nodded as a customer claimed her attention.

Huggy wended his way through the crowd to the quiet booth at the back. He put the tray down and pushed the plate towards Hutch. "There ya go, Blondie," he said quietly. "Eat up."

Hutch smiled wanly and picked up the burger. "Thanks, Huggy." He took a bite then put it down. He cradled the coffee cup in both hands, taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid as he gazed into its depths.

Huggy watched him, saying nothing. Hutch looked up. "What?"

Huggy just kept looking. "What?" Hutch repeated, irritation heating his voice.

"I'm worried about ya, man. Are ya sleepin'? You sure as hell ain't eatin'."

Hutch merely grunted.

"C'mon, Hutch. Ya can't help Starsky like this. Ya need to..."

Hutch leapt to his feet. "What I need is my partner back, not a lecture from you!"

He glared at Huggy then closed his eyes and subsided back onto his seat with a heavy sigh. "Sorry, Hug," he whispered.

"'S okay, my friend. I miss him too."

The two friends sat in silence for several minutes, drinking their coffee, before Hutch stirred himself to ask, "So why did you want me to come sit over here, Hug? You have some news about Starsky?" Hutch couldn't contain the hopeful note that entered his voice.

Huggy shook his head. "Sorry, man. I would've told you that straight away" He cursed himself inwardly for raising Hutch's hopes. He lowered his voice. "Word on the street is there's a new player in town. Name of Charlie. I hear he's one bad dude, ya dig?"

"Yeah? What's he into?"

"Drugs. I hear he had one of his pushers beaten to death for holdin' out on him. There's a lot of frightened people out there."

Hutch straightened in his seat. "White and Hogan had a John Doe, beaten and left for dead in an alley."

"That'll be him," Huggy said, soberly.

Hutch took a few more sips of the rapidly cooling coffee then grabbed a handful of fries. "Thanks, Hug. Gotta go."

Huggy started to protest but Hutch stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, Hug. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well Starsky'll never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."

Hutch snorted and shook his head. He gave Huggy's shoulder a quick squeeze before heading for the door. "See ya, Hug."

Huggy watched him leave, the steps a bit more purposeful, the head held a bit higher.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch drove back to headquarters where he found White and Hogan working on some reports for Dobey.

"Hi, guys. I think I got some news on your John Doe. No ID I'm afraid but word is he was a pusher for some new guy in town. Got beaten to death for keeping some of the profits."

"Phew!" Hogan whistled. "That'll get everyone's attention."

"Yeah. Thanks, Hutch," said White. "Any idea who this new guy is?"

"I just got a name...Charlie."

Little did they know 'Charlie' already had another victim in her sights.

TBC