Angel Dust
By TLR
Plot: Starsky receives a phone call from Hutch.
::::::::::::
"Pay," Hutch's slurry voice came over the line to Starsky's ear as Starsky sat up on the edge of the bed and listened. "Phone."
"Hutch?"
It sounded like his partner. Sort of. But then didn't sound like his partner. Unless his partner was very, very drunk.
"Hutch! Where are you? What happened?"
"Flat. Pay..."
"Don't move from that payphone. Don't try to drive. Sit down and wait for me. I'll find you."
Starsky quickly dressed haphazardly, mostly wrong-side out, in jeans, blue shirt, shoes; grabbing gun, wallet, badge on his way out. He ran down to the Torino, radioing Captain Dobey for an ambulance and units to be dispatched to Hutch's neighborhood to look for him.
It was a guess, but since it was almost midnight and they had to work in the morning, Starsky figured his partner had just taken a quick drive to a local destination for a bite to eat or something to take for lunch the next day, and something bad happened. Maybe he was hit over the head and mugged, maybe he'd eaten something tainted, or drank something he shouldn't have. Or maybe something worse had happened. Something criminal, like...no, get your mind away from there.
Starsky drove recklessly in and out of traffic-lights, siren.
"Move!" he yelled at the traffic.
::
Bay City was draped in darkness tonight, the peace broken by the harsh shrill of police sirens.
Starsky could see Hutch's car up ahead next to a pay phone, a few blocks from Venice Place, illuminated like a lantern in the reflected street lights, much like Hutch's hair. It had a flat tire, jacked up where Hutch had obviously been attempting to change it.
But there was no Hutch.
Being first on scene, Starsky jumped from the Torino, gave a quick look inside Hutch's car, and, not seeing him in or around it, started looking around the area.
"Hutch!"
It was then Hutch emerged from the shadows between two buildings across the street, his gait unstable, his eyes glazed and searching for Starsky, uncertain-"Out, get out, go, off, leave me, don't leave me-" He stumbled headfirst toward the plate glass window of a pawn shop, busting through to the other side, emerging with a shredded shirt and bleeding temple, hairline, and shoulder, now veering off the curb toward traffic.
Starsky ran across the street to him, Hutch buckling into his arms, gasping and grasping as a drowning man needing a life preserver. His mouth worked to speak, eyes desperate to find his partner's.
"Gotcha," Starsky sobbed as he gathered Hutch against him, suddenly feeling as if he could lose him on the sidewalk right then and there. "What happened? Where? Who?"
Incoherent words rolled from Hutch's mouth-"Guy...drink...not funny..."-turning into laughs, then groans.
The siren of the ambulance could now be heard as it approached, but all Hutch wanted to do was try to fight his way out of Starsky's restraining, loving arms.
"Hold on, Hutch. Help's comin'. Just hold on."
::
It was worse in the ambulance.
"No," Hutch said pawing for Starsky, heaving for breath, striking him in the face and shoulders accidentally. "A...way...too...much...Ben...Ben...no don't...out...let me out...want out...Starsk...want Starsk...where Starsk...leave me...don't leave me..."
Ben Forest? Was he hallucinating about Ben Forest, who was securely locked behind bars? Forest couldn't have done this, but the helpless look in his partner's eyes told the same story it had six months before, when he'd looked up from a forced heroin addiction. He was lost, and broken, and needed him.
"Sshh," Starsky said catching his arms, "it's okay. It's okay. I won't leave you." But the medics needed to assess and treat, so they nudged Starsky aside and applied padded restraints to Hutch's wrists and ankles.
Now at Hutch's head, Starsky stroked his partner's sweat-streaked, blood-streaked hair, pressed love into his cheeks. "Calm down, you're okay. I'm right here. Look at me. Ben's gone. Ben's locked up. Look at me."
But at the moment, Starsky didn't see much of his partner in the wild blue eyes.
"Drugged," one of the medics said as he examined Hutch's eyes with a penlight and took his vitals. "Looks like PCP."
::
Bay City Hospital.
ICU.
Later same night.
A small lamp in the corner cast a soft amber glow.
Hutch now lay with an IV in his arm, still restrained but less animated, still murmuring nonsensically toward the ceiling, no longer seeking his partner's face, or eyes, or hand, seemingly lost in a sea of ramblings and hallucinations.
Starsky moved a stool up next to the bed as close as he possibly could, then sat and leaned over the rail and watched Hutch's face intently for any change or movement, praying the medicine and sedatives would kick in and his partner's agitated mind could finally, thankfully, rest, at least for a little while; the foremost question in his mind being, "Who? Who did this? Why? Why would they do it?"
::
It was a long night. Starsky murmured quietly to him, talking about cases, friends, family, anything to tether Hutch to reality, to remind him of who they were, what they had survived, and the promise of a future they would face together.
Starsky never let go of his partner's hand, their bond a tangible entity in the room.
"Stay with me, Hutch. Listen to my voice. You're okay. Nobody's here but us. Just me and you."
Little by little, Starsky felt him coming down, coming back. Hour by hour he improved, the scales of life and death tipping toward life and sanity. Even as the cityscape glowered outside.
::
Outside the ICU window, Huggy and Captain Dobey looked in on Starsky and Hutch.
In a quiet mutter, Dobey asked without taking his eyes from the two cops he held dear in his heart, "Heard anything yet?"
"Got my antennas out."
::
The sunrise was a beautiful soft peach and pale yellow, but Starsky closed the curtains to help prevent any anxiety Hutch might feel from the stimuli it could create.
The restraints were gone. Hutch was still mumbling now and then, but now Starsky could at least understand what he was saying, even though it made little sense.
Dobey had gone home during the night, so that he could put officers on the mystery of who drugged Hutch and why, starting with his car and its flat tire.
Huggy now stepped up next to Starsky at the bed and quietly gave his shoulder a squeeze.
"He's sleeping now," Starsky said with a small smile of relief. "Real sleep. I think they're going to move him to a recovery room soon. Been a rough night for him."
"For you too, brother. I got your backs. Just tell me what you need."
"Answers, Hug. I need answers. And so help me..." His voice trailed off into a soft tearful hitch in his throat.
And with that etched in his mind, Huggy turned and left.
::
Captain Dobey assigned Hutch's case to two detectives, Burns and Washington, who began their investigation at Hutch's place, tracing his movements to the location of his car and flat tire, where the phone booth was. From there, they went across the street to a nightclub called The Cardinal, thinking maybe Hutch had gone inside for a drink, and maybe that drink had been laced there. Or maybe he'd arranged to meet someone there to talk about a case.
::
But Huggy beat them to it.
When Burns and Washington went inside, the young owner and bartender, named Matty G, was nowhere to be seen. His head waitress Bernice said he had stepped out the back door to meet an old friend for lunch.
Outside the back door, Huggy had a switchblade in Matty's face, as the alley provided seclusion.
The normally jovial Huggy Bear was now a tightly wound bundle of anger and pain. "I know you, Matty. But you don't know me very well if you think I'm gonna sit by and let you get away with hurting one of my best friends. Now you're gonna tell me who and why, and you're gonna tell me right now."
Matty held his hands up. "Yeah. Okay, Huggy. Okay. I was just...you know. Havin' a little fun. I spiked H's drink. That's what we call him down here our way. H. Over sending my brother Johnny to the slammer for that shipment that YOU ratted him out for, Bear. You. Little fun, little payback, that's all. Wasn't gonna kill him, just play with him. Now you know what it feels like to be messed with like you messed with my brother. Kinda funny, huh?"
"Funny? You're gonna come with me, and you're gonna tell the cops what you did."
"No, I can't do that. You know that. I got mixed up with Johnny's deal few months back and-"
Burns and Washington turned into the mouth of the alley and had their guns trained on Huggy. "Drop it, Huggy."
Huggy didn't move. "Citizen's arrest, my friends."
"Let us take over, Huggy. Step away."
As the two detectives advanced down the alley that Hutch had stumbled from, Huggy backed off and let them take over. Burns and Washington arrested them based on Matty's own confession that they had just overheard just minutes ago.
::
Recovery room.
Half hour later.
Hutch lay ghostly against the pillow, dark circles under his haunted eyes, watching Starsky walk around the room as if afraid his partner would disappear in a wisp of smoke if he took his gaze from him.
"Time," Hutch whispered weakly.
Starsky moved over to the bed and gave him a smile. "Almost noon. How you doin'?"
Hutch looked around. "What happened?"
"That's what I want to know. Somebody gave you Angel Dust. You were rambling. Something about a guy, a drink, and it not being funny."
Hutch's eyes closed. "I don't know. Real, not real. Dream, no dream. Red bird."
"Red bird?"
"Maybe. Hard to rememb...forget...I mean...what hap...your black eye..."
"Nothin," Starsky said gently. "Bumped into a door." He ran his fingertips down Hutch's arm in a soothing way. "Face? Name? He comin' after you? Us?"
"Starsk, they..." His hand, now free, grasped Starsky's arm. "I can't..." He stopped and looked at the bruises on Starsky's arm, pushing up his sleeve to get a better look. "Oh my God. I'm sor...did I..."
Starsky pushed his sleeve down and cupped Hutch's cheek. "Forget it. You didn't hurt me."
Hutch draped an arm across his eyes, as if to hide guilt and shame. "A flat. I had a...a flat."
"Yeah. That much is accurate. Keep going."
Hutch was silent as he tried to remember, then he spoke again.
"Then...and then...I can't remem...I mean...wait. The Cardinal."
Hutch took his arm down and looked at him, finally settling into the familiar comfort and concern of his partner's eyes. "Yeah. The guy...bartender. Matt. Matty G. Yelled out the front door. I was...fixing the flat."
Starsky pulled up a stool. "Got it. Keep going."
"Said...I had a phone call. I went in. No phone call."
"What do you mean, no phone call?"
"No...body...on the line. Was it...ruse? Not sure, can't remem..." Restless movements again. Distress.
"Hey," Starsky whispered as he smoothed Hutch's hair. "Time out. Just rest, huh? I'll be back. I'll put a guy on the door."
Silently seething, Starsky started to head for the door when Captain Dobey stepped in.
"We got him," the captain said looking from Starsky to Hutch. "Matt Georgio, runs The Cardinal."
"Huggy's old friend?" Starsky asked. "Why would he..." He looked at Hutch. "We put his brother Johnny away."
Hutch gave barely a nod.
The captain looked at his watch. "Have to meet with Burns and Washington. Catch you later." He offered a slight smile Hutch's way. "And, Hutchinson. Good to have you back."
::
Starsky dozed in a chair next to Hutch's hospital bed, while Hutch slept too.
It was about an hour after Captain Dobey left that Huggy lightly rapped on the door and stepped in.
"Starsk?"
Starsky roused himself awake, then pounced at Huggy, grabbing the front of his shirt and propelling him backward out the door and into the hall, backward against the wall. "Pick your snitches a little more carefully next time you help us with a case."
Huggy clutched Starsky's collar in anguish. "I'm sorry, man. I thought I could trust him. He-"
Starsky shook him, angry tears springing to his eyes. "We nearly lost him! You know that?"
Head lowering, Huggy nodded. "I know, I..."
Starsky clutched him in a fierce hug and whispered, "Damn it. We gotta be more careful. They want to kill us out there. We can't trust anybody. I mean anybody. It's just us. You get that?"
Huggy nodded against him, then pushed him back to look at him. "I do now. Can I talk to him?"
Starsky stepped aside, the magnitude of almost losing his partner crushing him to his knees on the floor.
In the hall, away from Hutch and Huggy, he bowed his head and said a silent prayer of thanks.
The End