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THE TRUE BROTHER
by
Abigail Crabtree
Part Five
Starsky slowly opened his eyes at the sound of his alarm. Time to get up already? Groaning, he pulled one arm out from under the blankets and managed to turn off the alarm. He'd had a late night with Stacey and he would pay for it today. But it had been worth it. Smiling to himself just thinking about it, he threw back the blankets and made his way to the bathroom.
Starsky starred glumly at the vacant desk across from him. Dobey had him doing paperwork until, as he had put it, he could decide what to do with a Starsky without a Hutch. Doing paperwork was bad enough, but doing it alone--without Hutch--was just no fun at all. Not to mention I wouldn't worry about you so much if you were here. What are you doing right now, Hutch? What would you think if you knew where my thoughts were last night when I was making love to Stacey? I told you what happened the other morning was no big deal, but I gotta wonder if it was a big deal...at least to me. I don't want you worrying about it. You've got other issues to deal with now. I never fully really realized the extent of those issues until the other night. I can't let what I'm starting to feel mess you up right now. Especially when I don't understand what it is I'm feeling.
When lunchtime rolled around, Starsky spent most of his time on the phone. First with Huggy to get the number of the doctor Huggy had sent that night to treat Hutch. Starsky knew Dr. Logan could be trusted. Minutes later he was talking to Dr. Logan on the phone. The doctor listened to what Starsky had to say and agreed that Hutch needed some counseling. He supplied him with several phone numbers and also suggested that Starsky might want to stop by after work and pick up some information he might find helpful. And he suggested that maybe Starsky might want to consider talking to someone. Someone who could help him deal with Hutch and what he was going through.
The next phone call was to Hutch, but there was no answer. Starsky stared at the phone, wondering where Hutch was. He's a grown man, no reason he has to be home every time you call.
After what seemed an eternity, the day was over, and Starsky breathed a sigh of relief. He shoved the paperwork aside and reached for his jacket. All he wanted to do now was pick up a pizza and swing by Hutch's. He had missed having Hutch at the desk across from him.
He was almost out the door, when he heard Dobey.
"Starsky, get in here."
Damn, now what? The bounce he had had in his step as he headed for the door was gone--a feeling of dread in its place.
"Yeah, Captain. What's up?" Dobey motioned for him to take a seat. Starsky knew this was not a good sign. Almost holding his breath, he waited for Dobey to drop the bomb. For a brief second, he wondered if something had happened to Hutch, but he brushed that idea aside quickly. Dobey was acting too calm...well, as calm as Dobey ever acted anyway.
"Starsky, I know the timing is lousy, but I have an assignment for you. I wish there were someone else who do it, but since you've been off for a while and have no open cases, you're the logical choice. The only choice, really." Dobey leaned back in his chair, his face showing the turmoil he was feeling about whatever it was he was about to spring on his detective.
"Spell it out, Captain." Starsky had a feeling he wasn't going to like this assignment. He was on the edge of his seat.
"We've got a case going to trial next week. A murder case. Big time drug dealer. The case against him is good, as long as we can keep our star witness alive to testify. I need you to make sure that happens. You won't be alone, though. I've got a young detective whose partner’s also on a medical leave."
"Trial's next week?" Starsky felt his stomach drop. "When next week?" Starsky seemed to ignore the fact that he was going to be partnered with someone.
"Tuesday. I know you don't like leaving Hutch now, but I honestly don't have a choice." Dobey did truly sound unhappy about it. "He's okay, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he's doing okay." Starsky hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. He didn't want Dobey having any doubts about Hutch when he came back to work. "When do I start babysitting?"
"As soon as you can pack a bag."
"That soon? That's not fair...you know I've gotta go see Hutch and let him know." Starsky was pacing around the office like a caged animal. A week with no contact with Hutch. A week of not knowing how he's doing. I know he doesn't want me hovering over him. But damn, what if he needs me?
"Starsky, stop with the pacing and go get your things together. By all means stop and see Hutch, but make it quick. I need you back here right away."
"All right I'm going," Starsky sighed. "It's gonna take me a couple hours, though. I have a some things I have to take care of if I'm gonna be gone for a week."
"Starsky...you tell Hutch to call if he needs anything."
"I'll tell him, Captain." Starsky knew it was unlikely that Hutch would call. He was still embarrassed by the fact that Dobey and Huggy knew what had happened to him.
"Starsky, I really wish I had someone else to watch our witness." Dobey was clearly feeling badly about the situation. "You do what you need to do and get back when you can."
"It's okay, Captain. I'm sure Hutch will survive a week without me."
"Starsky, it's not Hutch I'm worried about surviving the week...it's you."
Starsky couldn't hold back the wide grin. He knew what Dobey had just said was true. Hutch would be fine, but Starsky himself would be going crazy with worry. "Yep, you're right, as usual. Guess that's why you're the boss, huh?" Starsky headed for the door, a little of the old bounce back in his walk.
After a quick stop at Dr. Logan's office and a few minutes of friendly flirting with a pretty young receptionist, Starsky had the requested information. Next stop was his place, where he quickly packed what he would need for the coming week. Then a quick call to Stacey to let her know he would be out of touch for a while. He was beginning to feel some guilt where Stacey was concerned. Thinking of Hutch while making love to her was not exactly an ideal situation. Maybe by being away from both of them, he'd be able to sort out his feelings.
Forty-five minutes later, an obviously amused Hutch opened his door to find a struggling Starsky juggling a hot pizza, while trying to knock on the door. "Need some help?"
"What do you think?" Starsky grumbled as he slid the pizza onto the table.
"I think we sound a little cranky today. Rough day at the office?" Hutch knew something more than a hot pizza and not getting the door open was bothering his usually even-tempered partner. "What's wrong? Dobey give you a bad time about something?"
Returning from the refrigerator, Hutch handed Starsky a beer. "Here, maybe this will help. Now tell me what's wrong. You look like someone stole your last candy bar."
Starsky raised his eyebrows. "That's not even funny, Hutch."
"I'm serious, Starsky, what's wrong?" Hutch watched, as conflicting emotions seemed to wage a battle on his friend’s face. The tensing of his jaw left no doubt as to the deep frustration he was feeling. "Out with it."
Now it was Starsky's turn to observe his partner. Taking in the set face and the fixed eyes, he knew he wasn't going to be able to change the subject. The best he could hope for was to downplay what he was feeling. "I guess it's really no big deal. Dobey has me playing babysitter to a witness in a murder trial starting tonight." Starsky reached for another slice of pizza. "The trial's not until next Tuesday."
"If it's no big deal, what's the problem? Is it dangerous?"
"It's my job to make sure this witness lives to testify. So I suppose you could say there's an element of danger."
"But that's not it, is it? It's not the assignment. You just don't want to leave me alone. You think I need a babysitter."
Starsky's face told him he was dead right. "Why, Starsky? It's not like I can't take care of myself. Physically, I'm almost as good as new. Okay, so my mind's a little messed up, but that doesn't mean I can't take care of myself. I've just got some things to sort out." Hutch felt the small amount of self-confidence he had been surviving on begin to shatter around him.
"Hutch, it's not that I think you need a babysitter. I know you can take care of yourself. I can't explain it...I just can't help worrying about you." Starsky didn't like this feeling that he was somehow hurting Hutch. "Remember when Marcus' followers had me?"
Hutch nodded. He would never forget the horror Starsky had gone through because of Marcus. Or for that matter, the sheer terror that had gripped him for months afterwards. Realization dawned as one pair of blue eyes met the other. He had acted exactly the same way when it had been Starsky striving to forget the pain Marcus' followers had inflicted. He hadn't wanted to let Starsky out of his sight for a long time after that.
"It's just the way we are, babe. When one of us goes through some terrible ordeal, we both feel it." Starsky's voice was soft and soothing. "Face it, we just can't help worrying about each other."
"I'm sorry. I should have realized what you've been going through, too. I know none of this has been easy for you either." Hutch could still see the concern in Starsky's face. "I just don't want you worrying about me so much. Keep your mind on the job you're gonna be doing.
"Fine, you quit worrying about me, and I'll quit worrying about you."
"Starsky, I think the day we quit worrying about each other is the day we're both dead and buried."
Starsky laughed, "yeah, I think you're right. How about we just try to keep the worrying down to a minimum?"
"Sounds impossible, but I guess we can give it a try." A smile was evident in the sound of his voice.
With things more relaxed now, Starsky brought out the phone numbers he had picked up from Dr. Logan. "I've got some numbers for you." He held the paper out to Hutch. "Remember, you said you'd call if I got you a phone number. You've got two here to choose from. Dr. Logan said they were both real good."
"Dr. Logan?" Hutch looked questioningly at his partner. "The name's not familiar. Did he treat me at the hospital?"
"Uh...no, he's the doctor that Huggy sent over after...after Jake attacked you." Starsky hated to remind Hutch of that day. "He's real nice, Hutch, and he thinks talking to someone will help."
"Oh...that doctor. I do have a few vivid images of that." Remembering brought a shadow of pained embarrassment to his face.
"Looking at the phone numbers he held in his hand, Hutch had a brief flicker of uncertainty. But seeing Starsky watching him expectantly with a look of worry on his face, he knew he had to follow through on his promise. "I'll call and make an appointment." He even managed a tremulous smile. The smile that lit up Starsky's face was motivation enough for Hutch. He was determined that tomorrow he would make that call.
Still smiling broadly, Starsky leaned back, deciding he would spend a few more minutes with Hutch before starting his assignment.
"What'd you do with your day while I was knee deep in paperwork?"
"Partner, you were probably on your third cup of coffee before I even rolled out of bed. I did manage to run a couple of miles this morning. I did some laundry and then re-potted some of my plants. Nothing too exciting, but I did keep myself busy."
"Running, huh? That sounds like the old Hutch. I suppose you bought some of that God-awful healthy stuff you call food, too?"
Hutch couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Not yet, but maybe tomorrow."
Starsky, suddenly and totally out of the blue, felt a great relief wash over him. Hutch was going to be okay. For the first time in a long time, he felt he could leave Hutch without worrying about him.
"Well, buddy, I guess I better get going and make sure my prize witness gets tucked into bed okay." Starsky got to his feet and headed to the kitchen with his plate and empty beer bottle.
"Starsk, just keep your mind on the job and don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Hutch had followed his partner out to the kitchen.
Starsky turned and pulled his friend into a tight embrace. "I know you're gonna be okay. And don't you worry about me either. I'll be fine, too."
Hutch welcomed the embrace. It felt good to be enveloped warmly in Starsky's arms. He felt his cheeks flush, as he recalled the events of the last time he had felt the comfort of Starsky's embrace. Pulling away from Starsky, Hutch was more than a little startled to see a look of total bliss had spread over his partner's face. Starsky's words echoed through Hutch's mind, as he remembered vividly the feel of Starsky's groin under his hand. Look at me. No, better yet, feel this. Does that feel like I have any regrets?
"Hey, partner, where did you go?" Hutch was jolted back to the present by Starsky's words. The look of bliss had been replaced by concern.
"Sorry, I was thinking about...making that call tomorrow. Guess I'm kind of nervous." Hutch hoped Starsky would buy that excuse. I can't very well tell him where my mind was wandering off to.
"You're gonna do just fine. I really believe that, Hutch." Starsky's enthusiasm was contagious, and Hutch found his own spirits rise.
"We'll both be all right. But you'd better get going before Dobey comes looking for you." This time, it was Hutch who pulled Starsky into a hug. "Thanks, partner."
"You just be ready for a night out when I get back. Dinner's on me," Starsky promised as he headed out the door.
Within seconds, the apartment felt empty to Hutch. Despite his reassurances to his partner, he knew he was going to miss Starsky. And he would also worry about him while he was protecting that witness. Some habits just couldn't be changed.
Hutch found himself whistling, as he headed out for his morning run. It felt good to be jogging again. So good, in fact, he was even thinking about going back to the gym. He couldn't help but feel good with the warm radiant sun beating down on him. It was a beautiful day. Poor Starsky, stuck inside babysitting some pathetic jerk.
Thirty minutes later, Hutch was back in front of Venice Place. Pausing to catch his breath and stretch, he glanced around his surroundings. He took in the two attractive young women across the street, a young mother walking her baby, and then he was reminded of Starsky as he noticed a young man leaning against the building two doors down. Younger and a bit smaller than Starsky, but the same brown curly hair. For a second, Hutch felt a tinge of fear, as he realized that the man reminded him more of his partner's younger brother. Nick? Even Nick wouldn't be stupid enough to be hanging around here. He's got to know that the police are looking for him. Especially his brother. Taking a second look, he found that the man was no longer anywhere to be seen. Feeling a little foolish for even considering it might have been Nick Starsky, Hutch bounded up the stairs to his apartment. Putting the curly-haired young man completely out of his mind, Hutch showered and then ate a leisurely breakfast. The day was spent quietly. He did some reading, watched a little TV, and then made the promised phone call. He dialed the first number on the paper Starsky had left him. Feeling a great deal of trepidation, but not wanting to let Starsky down, he made an appointment for the following week. Marking the time boldly on his calendar, he felt he had achieved at least a small triumph.
As the day wound down, Hutch found himself feeling restless. The day's last lingering rays of sunshine were inviting, so he headed out to take a walk. Within minutes, he was settled against a tree in his favorite park, watching the children play. The still warm sun felt good against his skin, and he closed his eyes briefly. The summer sounds that echoed throughout the park reminded him of what he had been missing. Life...he had been missing life. Opening his eyes, he watched as two small children played catch with a large red ball. They seemed to be having great fun. They laughed and jumped around without a care in the world. He watched as one little boy darted off to retrieve the ball that had bounced away from them. The boy smiled up at the young man holding the ball out to him. Once the little boy had the ball back in his hands again, he whirled around and took off.
Still smiling at the sight of the happy, playful children, Hutch found himself paralyzed at the sight of the man who had returned the ball to the child. It couldn't be. It's just not possible. Nick Starsky. Nick Starsky, right here in the park, just a few yards away from me. No, it's me. I'm must be going crazy. I'm seeing things that just are not there.
Hutch sat numbly against the tree. Everything around him seemed silent--as if no one else existed. The park may as well have been empty. He felt alone. The urge to run was so strong, but he wasn't sure where he could run to or if he could even manage to get to his feet. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he slowly opened them again. He scanned across the park. A sudden rush of terror gripped him with a tight hold. Nick still stood in the same spot. Only now he was looking directly at Hutch.
This isn't happening. It can't be. His heart was beating so fast and hard, it felt like it was punching him in the chest. Getting to his feet was not an easy task, but getting out of the park and home was all he could think about. His clumsy efforts finally paid off and he was finally standing. It seemed to take every ounce of strength he had to just put one foot in front of the other. Step by slow step, he made his way out of the park. Turning to look only once, he knew Nick was still watching him. The look on Nick's face was one of satisfied contempt.
The short walk from the park seemed to drag on forever. By the time Hutch arrived at his apartment, he was both physically and emotionally drained. He was sweating and struggling for each breath. The flight of stairs up to his apartment had become a very daunting obstacle. But the thought of Nick somewhere behind him became motivation enough, and he half stumbled, half crawled, up the stairs.
By the time Hutch managed to find the key that was buried in his pocket, his hands were trembling so badly he could barely unlock the door. Once inside, he stumbled to the couch. His head was pounding almost as hard as his heart. He felt dizzy and couldn't control the trembling that seemed to have taken over his body. God, I'm dying. His hands and feet felt numb and each breath was a struggle. I'm gonna die here all alone. I can just see the headline now: "Cop Scared to Death."
As he lay curled on the couch, he had lost all track of time. The room began to darken as night approached. The idea of total darkness was far from appealing to Hutch. Between the fear of being alone in the dark and the realization that he needed desperately to make a trip to the bathroom, Hutch knew he had to make himself move off the couch. He shivered and realized that his shirt was damp, drenched in sweat. As he got to his feet, he realized he was still lightheaded and dizzy. The pounding in his chest was not as bad as it had been. Making his way slowly around the room, he moved from light to light, turning on every light in the room. Satisfied that he was no longer in any danger from the darkness, he proceeded slowly toward the bathroom. After relieving himself and splashing cold water on his perspiration-soaked face, he felt a little better.
As he was leaving the bathroom, his hand reached to turn off the light. He hesitated for a second and then decided to leave the light on. If I'm going to be a coward, I might as well go all the way. With that thought in mind, Hutch moved from the bathroom to the bedroom, and then to the kitchen, turning on the lights in each room. Despite the fact that he had turned on every light in the apartment, he still couldn't shake his almost overwhelming sense of fear. Nick is out there. Why? He has to be after me. Why else would he be hanging around here? He must know the police and his brother are looking for him.
"Okay, okay...just calm down. Find something to take your mind off Nick," Hutch said out loud. He moved to the coffee table, picking up a book he had started a few days ago. Now I'm talking to myself. Settling himself in a chair, he tried to concentrate on reading, but within minutes he knew it was no use. Book still in hand, he got up and paced around the room. Standing next to the window that looked out onto the street in front of his apartment, he reached out to shut the wooden shutters. Pausing to glance out, he noticed a solitary figure standing just under the streetlight across the street. As he moved closer to the window to get a better view, the man under the streetlight looked up and directly into Hutch's window. Hutch felt his knees go weak, and once again fear took a firm hold of him. Backing away from the window, he reached out one trembling hand and pushed the shutters closed.
Breathing had suddenly become a major struggle. He slid down onto the floor. Pull yourself together, Hutchinson. Shake off this damn fear, and you can handle Nick. He's alone now; Jake's not around to help him. An abrupt wave of nausea hit, and he had no choice but to pull himself off the floor, making a mad rush for the bathroom. Huddled around the toilet, he continued vomiting until there was nothing left in his stomach. Then the dry heaves started, and his stomach was cramping so badly that he was reminded of the torment he had gone through in that small room above Huggy's. But then, he'd had Starsky to hold on to. Starsky had helped him through every inch of withdrawal.
Too weak to move, Hutch curled up on the bathroom floor, hoping the cramps that wracked his stomach would soon subside. He remained on the hard bathroom floor the rest of the night, dozing on and off whenever the pain in his stomach would ease enough for sleep.
Sometime early in the morning, Hutch managed to make his way to bed. Fully clothed, he fell into bed, pulling the covers tightly around him. There he remained until the need to use the bathroom forced him from the safety of his blankets.
Staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, Hutch found that he looked just as bad as he felt. The optimism and renewed hope he had been feeling just yesterday was gone. Left in its place was fear and a feeling of helplessness and despair.
Hutch barely noticed one day passing into another. All concept of time had been lost. He hadn't left the apartment since seeing Nick. The lights remained on and the shutters tightly closed. His days had been spent in an alcoholic haze. He had come to depend heavily on two things: a bottle and his gun. He was never far from either of them--the bottle in his hand, and the gun nestled securely in its holster at his side. He slept very little and was eating even less. Details like showering and shaving were never considered. He rarely ventured further than the couch.
The ringing of the phone several nights ago had caused Hutch to take the phone off the hook and shove it under the couch. Flashbacks centering on the visit from Nick and Jake had then occupied most of his night, leaving him a shaking and trembling mess. When he had reached the point where he was reliving the brutal rape for the second time, he had reached for a bottle.
"Damn it!" Hutch swore loudly, as he searched the kitchen cabinets. There has to be another bottle here somewhere. The thought that he might have to leave the apartment or face sobering up was not an idea he was anxious to consider. When he found a half-empty bottle in the back of the cupboard, he felt a rush--much like an addict feels when getting ready to score his next fix. Settling himself on the floor, he opened the bottle and tossed the cap across the room, knowing he wouldn't be needing it. He welcomed the fierce burning sensation that the first swallow sent coursing down his throat. Leaning his head back against the cabinet door, he briefly wondered what day it might be, as he closed his eyes and took another swallow. Starsky is gonna be so pissed.
~~~
Disappointed, Starsky hung up the phone. He had wanted to let Hutch know he was on his way over, but the line was busy. Starsky had just delivered the witness to the courthouse. His long week of babysitting was now over. Things had gone very smoothly. The young detective he had been partnered with had been a nice guy and they had hit it off okay. It was probably a good thing that everything had gone so smoothly, as he certainly hadn't been able to keep his mind off Hutch for very long. Confused is the only word for what I'm feeling. I've always loved Hutch, but not exactly in the way I'm feeling now. Why now? God, why now? Hutch doesn't need anything else to deal with now. And I need to have my head on straight so I can help him deal with all he's been through.
Starsky had had time to read the information on dealing with rape the doctor had given him. He had always known it was something that wasn't easy for a victim to deal with, but now he realized it was even worse than he could ever have imagined. And maybe it was even worse for Hutch being a man and a cop besides. He knew Hutch had always figured he should have been able to prevent it from happening for those very reasons. Why couldn't Hutch understand that he didn't have a chance of stopping Jake? Not in the condition Hutch had been in.
Reading through the material, he had recognized many of the things Hutch had been going through. Angry outbursts, sleep disturbances, depression, and fear of dating. Starsky tried to remind himself that Hutch had been doing better. Remembering just how good Hutch had seemed before he left last week, brought a smile to his face. Yeah, Hutch is going to be okay. I just have to remember to listen to him and respect the fears he's dealing with. And to be more accepting and tolerant of his angry outbursts and his depression. He needs me.
No point hanging around here, I'll just head over to Hutch's. As he slid into the Torino, he realized he hadn't even thought about giving Stacey a call. But what will I say to her when I do call her? Sorry, Stacey, but I think I prefer Hutch to you now? Things were certainly beginning to get complicated.
Starsky was feeling so good as he climbed the steps to Hutch's apartment that he couldn't keep himself from whistling. Still whistling, he knocked on the door and then waited for his partner to open it. Growing impatient and hearing no sound from inside the apartment, Starsky pulled his keys out of his pocket and let himself in. Maybe he's out for his morning run.
As the door swung open, Starsky's eyes immediately spotted the long legs of his partner on the floor in the kitchen. "Hutch." Starsky's first thought was that Hutch had been injured or become ill. He felt his stomach knot as he knelt beside his friend. Picking up the empty bottle next to Hutch's hand, Starsky quickly realized the problem was neither an injury nor illness. As he shook Hutch, trying to bring him around, Starsky wondered if maybe he had been wrong and Hutch really was sick. He didn't look well at all--very pale, almost fragile looking. It was also quite obvious that Hutch had not showered or shaved in some time. Not like Hutch at all. He was startled to find that Hutch was wearing his gun. Why would Hutch wear his gun around the apartment?
Shaking Hutch again, a little harder this time, he was pleased to see his friend's eyes open. But he was stunned at the reaction he received. Hutch gasped, frightened to see someone next to him, and tried to back away from Starsky. Starsky reached out to him, but that only seemed to scare Hutch more. Starsky watched as the inebriated blond fumbled for the gun at his side.
"Hutch. It's me. Take it easy." Starsky watched as recognition crept into the blurry blue eyes.
"Starsk?" Hutch's hand dropped from his gun, as the horror of what he had been about to do hit him full force. "I'm sorry...." He reached out a trembling hand to steady himself against the cupboard, as he attempted to get to his feet. "I've been drinking."
Pulling himself to his feet, Starsky reached out to help Hutch up. "I think it's pretty obvious that you've been drinking." The tone in his voice clearly showed his disappointment and disgust.
"I said I was sorry." Hutch half staggered, half stumbled, toward the living room.
"Instead of telling me how sorry you are, how about telling me why? Why are you doing this to yourself?" Starsky said, as he watched his partner attempt to maneuver himself in the direction of the couch.
"No reason, just felt like it."
"I suppose you just felt like turning all the lights on and shutting all the shutters and curtains in the place? And I suppose you just haven't felt like showering or shaving either?" Starsky could feel the anger building in him. "When was the last time you ate or slept? You look like hell!"
Hearing the anger in Starsky's voice, Hutch felt his own anger begin to flare. What was Starsky so upset up about? I'm the one who just spent a week in hell. I'm the damn, useless coward who can't seem to get his life back together. "Just shut up! If you don't like what you see, you can just leave."
"Is that what you want? You want me to leave?" Starsky ground out the words between clenched teeth. "Hey, buddy, I'm just trying to understand what happened to you. The old Hutch I knew and loved seemed on his way back when I left a week ago. What the hell happened to cause such a change?"
"Nothing happened, Starsk. Maybe we both just have to accept the fact that the old Hutch is gone and won't be coming back." His words were slurred, and his exhaustion appeared to be ready to take control.
The fatigue and alcohol Starsky heard in his friend's slurred words normally would have evoked some sympathy, but now only infuriated him. "Maybe the old Hutch is not coming back because you don't have the guts to bring him back. Guess it's easier to hide yourself away in your apartment with a bottle."
Hutch tried to stand, struggling to keep his balance. He wasn't sure if the alcohol or lack of sleep was to blame for the fact that getting to his feet was almost an impossible task. Hand firmly planted on the back of the couch to keep himself standing, his expression was like someone who had been struck in the face. "Yeah, maybe it is easier. And maybe a bottle is more dependable than my partner..." He swayed slightly, but managed to regain his balance. "I'm doing the best I can. If it's not good enough for you, that's just too damn bad."
"This is your best?" Starsky pointed at the blond. "An exhausted drunk is the best you can do? You think the bottle is more dependable than me, huh? What happened to the guy who made it clear that he didn't need a babysitter? Did he find out he's not as strong as he thought he was?" The words rushed out, cold and harsh. Part of him knew he was being unfair, but part of him felt as if he had been tricked. Tricked into believing one thing, and now being confronted with something entirely different. This was not the Hutch he had been looking forward to coming home to.
"You don't know...you don't understand. You...could never...understand." Hutch's voice had grown louder. It was clear to Starsky that Hutch was losing control, that he had reached the breaking point. "You'll never be able to understand what it's been like. Never! Only someone who has been through it could understand. And I'd never want you to go through that."
Starsky watched as the glowering mask of fury on Hutch's face slowly turned into a look of utter and complete defeat. "Hutch?" Starsky's voice softened.
Hutch moved away from the couch, his movements slow and fumbling. "None of this was my fault. Why can't you understand that? I was the victim. Why are you so angry with me?" He had lowered his voice now, his anger gone, replaced by a quiet despair. "I see the disgust in your eyes, Starsky. Why don't you just leave? You don't have to stay with me."
"Hutch, I'm not leaving, so you can just get that idea out of your head. I'm just getting awful tired of you always giving up." Starsky moved closer toward Hutch, then watched as his friend backed away from him. "You don't have to handle everything alone."
"Damn you! I seem to recall that I've been alone for a week now. And that's okay; you had a job to do and I understand that. But don't come in here now complaining about the way I've handled things. You don't know what my week was like, so just get off my back. I said I did the best I could."
"If your week was that bad, you could have called someone. Do you always have to be so stubborn?"
"Stubborn?" Hutch's anger resurfaced. "Did you expect me to call Dobey or Huggy to hold my hand? Maybe my mother?" Hutch had backed himself up against the wall, looking as if at any moment he might slide to the floor. "I'm tired, Starsk...I don't have the energy for this now. I'm sorry you find me disgusting and a major disappointment. Please just leave."
Starsky watched as Hutch slid down the wall and then toppled over. He was out like a light. "Now at least maybe you'll get some rest." Starsky pulled his exhausted partner to his feet and, lifting him, carried him into the bedroom where he gently deposited him on the bed. He removed the gun and holster, shaking his head as he placed it on the dresser. Taking a blanket from the closet, he carefully covered the sleeping blond. Sitting and watching Hutch sleep, Starsky's eyes took in the haggard appearance of his partner. The week had obviously taken its toll. Something had gone very wrong while he had been away.
Starsky continued sitting and watching Hutch, until he was satisfied that Hutch was sleeping soundly. Then, turning off the light, he closed the bedroom door quietly behind him. Moving around the apartment, he started turning off lights and opening shutters and windows. This place reeks of stale beer and whiskey.
Next, he gathered up the empty bottles and tossed them in the trash. There really wasn't much to clean up around the apartment. There were only a few dirty dishes in the kitchen, which Starsky quickly had cleaned up. He hasn't been eating.
Checking on Hutch again and finding him still out, Starsky turned on the TV and made himself comfortable on the couch. Despite the fact that the movie on TV was one of his favorites, he couldn't keep his mind on it. I can't believe the change in Hutch. What happened here this week? Something triggered this decline. He'd been doing so well. It's like something or someone scared the hell out of him. When he's feeling better, I'll have to make him talk about it. Feeling restless and edgy, Starsky turned off the TV and paced around the apartment.
Hearing Hutch moan from the other room, Starsky looked in on his partner. "How ya feeling?" Starsky stood in the doorway watching, as Hutch slowly sat up, holding his head with both hands.
"How do you think I feel?" Hutch groaned as the slight movement caused the pain in his head to intensify. "What are you still doing here?" There was no longer any hint of anger in his voice, just a calm, resigned tone.
"I think you probably feel like shit, and I'm still here because it seems you need a babysitter." Starsky's voice had a serious, firm tone to it, but without the earlier anger. "I'll get you some aspirin."
Hutch watched as Starsky turned and left. He was relieved to see Starsky had stayed. They needed to talk. He had to explain what had caused him to end up in this condition.
"Here." Starsky handed Hutch several aspirin and a glass of water. Hutch's hands shook as he took them, but he managed to get the pills down without spilling much of the water.
Starsky took the glass from the trembling hands and set it safely on the night table. "Why don't you just rest while I run some bath water for you?"
"You trying to tell me something?" Starsky was relieved to see some of Hutch's usual humor return.
"What I'm trying to tell ya is that you need a bath. I doubt you can handle standing up in the shower. Now just close your eyes and rest for a few minutes while I get your bath water ready."
Too tired to argue, Hutch closed his eyes. He could hear Starsky running the water in the bathroom. I'm so lucky to have him in my life. Sometimes I wonder why he puts up with me.
A few minutes later, Starsky stood at the side of the bed, looking down on his sleeping partner. He hated to wake him, but he didn't want the bath water to get cold. "Come on, Hutch, bath time. You can sleep the rest of the day, once you get cleaned up and have something to eat."
Hutch forced his tired blue eyes open and tried to focus on his partner and what he was saying. "I'm so tired, Starsk."
"I know you are, but you'll sleep better after a hot bath and some food in your stomach. Come on, I'll give you a hand." Starsky held out his hand and the grateful blond took hold of it.
With Starsky's steadying hand, Hutch made it to the bathroom. Although Hutch appreciated his partner's help, when Starsky started to help him undress, Hutch abruptly let him know that his assistance was no longer needed. "I can take it from here, Starsk."
"Fine, have it your way, but I'll be right back to give you a hand."
Settled in the bathtub, Hutch had to admit that the warm water felt really good. He could feel his body relaxing, and he simply closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth.
"Okay, buddy, you just relax and I'll take it from here." Hutch's eyes flew open at the sound of Starsky's voice. Starsky had knelt down by the tub and proceeded to lather up the washcloth he had placed nearby.
"Starsky, what the hell are you doing? I can...." Hutch’s words were silenced when the washcloth was placed on his face, and Starsky began gently washing.
"Just shut up, relax, and let me take care of you for a while, huh? It's been a rough week for you, but it's over now, and we'll get things back on track."
Starsky lost himself in the sheer joy of caressing his partner. He would have willingly let the washcloth fall away and let his bare hand explore Hutch's body. He couldn't deny it any longer--he wanted Hutch. Wanted wasn't the right word, he craved...desired...hungered for Hutch. Hearing Hutch exhale what had to be a long sigh of contentment, Starsky looked at his partner, wondering if it could be possible that Hutch was enjoying this in the same way he was?
Starsky continued his gentle scrubbing of his partner, his hand moving down the flat stomach, pausing just slightly. He held his breath, briefly terrified of what Hutch's reaction would be if he let his hand wander any further. You're just giving him a bath. Keep your mind on that fact and quit the fantasizing. He moved his hand, continuing his gentle washing. As his fingers brushed up against Hutch's soft penis, he felt it twitch and harden just a bit. It was obvious Hutch's cock was enjoying the small amount of attention being paid to it. God, how I would love to give it lots of attention. Not wanting to embarrass Hutch, he quickly moved on.
Hutch did as he was told and kept quiet. At first he'd felt somewhat uncomfortable having Starsky bathe him. His mind wandered back to the first time Starsky had bathed him, after the rape. Not wanting to think about that now, he let Starsky's gentle touch and caring bring him back to the present. After his week of terror, he felt so safe with Starsky here taking charge of things.
Suddenly, he felt anything but relaxed as he felt Starsky's hand brush his cock. He was embarrassed at the eager response shown by his genitals. God, how mortifying...one slight touch of my partner's hand and my cock wants to jump to attention. Trying to act as if nothing had happened became more difficult as the memory of that morning a week ago, when Starsky's hand had given him so much pleasure, almost caused Hutch to moan out loud. Get it together, Hutchinson.
"Keep your eyes closed, babe, I'm gonna wash your hair now."
Relieved to have something else to think about, Hutch took a deep breath as Starsky poured the warm water over his head.
Soon Starsky, gently but quickly, had the blond bathed, his hair washed and the week's worth of stubble on his face shaved. "There now, you look almost human again." Starsky smiled down at his now totally relaxed partner. "Hey, you still with me?"
Hutch slowly opened his eyes. He couldn't help but attempt a weak smile in return, as he stared up into Starsky's smiling face. Hutch found himself almost choking on the surge of emotion he felt building up in him. "I'm sorry," was all he could manage as he tried to maintain control of his feelings. What he really wanted to do was cry. He knew Starsky didn't need to hear it; their appreciation for one another had always been a given. But looking into the face of his best friend, a friend who was always there for him, he just had to say one more thing. "Thank you."
"Hey, it's okay." Starsky could see Hutch was struggling to maintain control. "Nothing to be sorry for, and certainly no thanks needed. How many times do I have to explain that to you? Now let's get you out of this tub."
Starsky helped him dry off, then handed him his robe. "Think you can handle it from here?" He pointed toward the sink at Hutch's toothbrush and comb.
"I'll manage," Hutch said, as he tied his robe around himself.
"Good. I'm gonna fix you something to eat. Then it's back to bed for you for some much needed sleep."
As Starsky left the bathroom, Hutch stood looking after him, wondering. How did I ever get so lucky as to have him for a friend? I certainly don't deserve him.
Teeth brushed and damp hair now combed neatly in place, Hutch watched as his friend made their lunch. He had opened a couple of cans of soup, and it was simmering on the stove as he finished preparing grilled cheese sandwiches.
"Lunch is served," Starsky said, as he filled two bowls with the hot, steaming soup and carried them to the table. "Sit down and get eating." Hutch slid into a chair and waited for Starsky, as he brought the sandwiches and glasses of milk to the table. He watched Starsky attack his meal with his usual gusto. Hutch wasn't sure he could show the same enthusiasm for the meal as his friend. His stomach already felt a little queasy.
"Hutch, eat, will ya? At least some soup."
Hutch picked up his spoon and forced himself to take a sip of the soup. He was surprised to find that it seemed to hit the spot.
"Tastes pretty good, huh?" Starsky said, happy to see Hutch was eating.
"Yeah, it's good." Hutch continued eating for a few minutes, then pushed his bowl away. "I can't eat any more." Hutch was struggling to keep his eyes open.
Starsky pushed back his chair and was on his feet and ready to assist. "Come on, buddy, let's get you to bed."
"Not yet, Starsk. We have to talk."
"Hutch, you're dead on your feet. We'll talk as soon as you get some sleep. I promise we'll talk." Once Hutch was standing, Starsky guided him to the bedroom. Starsky was almost sure that Hutch was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
Starsky checked in with Dobey, then spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV, dozing off and on between programs.
When Starsky woke up, he was startled to see Hutch standing, gazing out the window. He seemed to be lost in thought, as he stared intently out onto the street below. "Hutch, what are you doing up already? You didn't sleep very long."
Hutch stood silently, not responding to Starsky's question. Then never moving, almost as if he were unaware that Starsky had even spoken to him, he started to speak. "He's watching me. He's out there and he's waiting for his chance."
Starsky felt a chill run down his spine. "Hutch, who's watching you?" Getting to his feet, he moved toward Hutch. Standing behind Hutch, he looked down onto the street. "Hutch, there's no one out there."
"I know he's there. I've seen him; he's watching me. And he knows that I've seen him." Hutch's voice sounded tired but matter of fact. "I think he's playing games with me now." He turned to look at Starsky, his face a mixture of fear and confusion.
"Hutch, come on and sit down and tell me what you're talking about. Who's watching you?" Taking Hutch by the arm, he moved him toward the couch, and he sat. Sitting down next to him, he took Hutch's face in his hands and turned it so they were face-to-face, eye-to-eye. "Talk to me. What's been going on here while I was gone?"
"Nothing much. I've just been hiding here in my apartment." Starsky could hear a heavy dose of sarcasm in the blond's voice. Hutch's face showed the battle going on within him. Part of him wanting to get his fears out in the open and deal with them, and part of him wanting to just hide from everything.
"Why, Hutch? Please talk to me." Starsky wanted nothing more at that moment than to pull Hutch tightly to him and promise that nothing would ever hurt him again.
"I never thought of myself as a coward before. I don't understand why I'm acting this way." Hutch clenched his hands as he talked, revealing the stress he was feeling.
"Start at the beginning and tell me what happened." Starsky took hold of one of Hutch's hands and smiled encouragingly. "You'll feel better if you talk about it."
"Feel better?" A nervous laugh escaped as Hutch shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I don't know about that, partner. Somehow, I don't think telling you about the cowardly way I spent my week is going to make me feel better. Just thinking about what a gutless wimp I've become makes me sick to my stomach." Hutch fought to keep his fragile shell of composure. The memories of the past week would haunt him for a long time. God, I was a real mess when Starsky got here. A drunken, filthy, pathetic mess--as bad as some of the drunks we've found huddled in alleys desperately needing a drink. How can Starsky stand to even be around me?
Starsky waited patiently, knowing Hutch would get around to telling him what had happened in his own time. But he didn't know how much longer he could be patient. He had two ideas of what had happened whirling around in his mind, and he didn't like either of them. He couldn't help but hope that Hutch had a completely different reason for his downhill descent the past week. Maybe he had started having nightmares about Jake again. That might be easier to deal with than Hutch thinking a dead man was watching him. Was it possible that Hutch believed Jake was watching him? That might be better than Starsky's second idea, that Nick was watching him. At least a dead man couldn't hurt him. Well, at least not physically. Would Nick be that stupid or that crazy to come after Hutch again? So engrossed in his own worrisome thoughts, it took him a second to realize Hutch was speaking again. He felt the nauseating sinking of despair as what Hutch was saying sunk in.
"I told myself it wasn't him that first day I thought I saw him in the park." Hutch's voice trembled, as he remembered his first encounter with Nick. "But then later, he was there again, and this time there was no doubt in my mind. It was Nick, and he looked me right in the eye."
Starsky felt anger building in him. How dare Nick even think about coming near Hutch again? He knew he had to calm down and listen to Hutch. Hutch was his main concern; he would deal with Nick later. "Then what happened, Hutch?" Starsky needed to hear the whole story as much as Hutch needed to tell it.
"Then...I think I just sort of fell apart. I could hardly breathe, and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst right through my chest. I'm not even sure how I made it home." Hutch paused, "I think I crawled up the stairs."
Starsky couldn't stand it anymore. He reached out and pulled Hutch into his arms and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry, I should have been here." He stroked the pale, blond hair, wanting to tell Hutch how much he loved him. Explain how his feelings had changed lately into something he didn't even understand himself. But he couldn't do that. Not now. But at some point, he would have to be honest with Hutch.
Hutch regretfully pulled out of the safety and comfort of Starsky's arms. "You shouldn't be sorry, there was no reason for you to stay with me. I honestly don't know how you can stand to be around me anyway. Starsky, I'm embarrassed that you've had to see me like this."
"Of course there's a reason for me to stay. I love you. You're my best friend. There's no place I would rather be than with you."
"I love you, too." This time Hutch reached for Starsky, pulling him into the circle of his arms. "Maybe I love you a little too much." Hutch couldn't explain why he'd said that or the way he was feeling right now. Was it possible to love someone too much? Or was the way he loved Starsky changing somehow?
"Hutch, please don't be embarrassed. And I don't believe it's possible to love someone too much." What did he mean by that anyway? "Go on, tell me about Nick. He didn't come up here, did he?" Starsky didn't even want to consider the possibility of Nick getting anywhere near Hutch again. He's my brother, but I'm not sure I wouldn't choke the life out of him if I could get my hands on him right now.
"No. He was outside, though, looking up at the window." Hutch flinched just thinking about it. "Starsk, I totally lost it. It was awful. I couldn't breathe, then I was sick to my stomach, and I just wanted to die. Hell, I was sure I was dying. Then I saw him standing out there, looking up at me. That's when I crawled into a bottle...I guess you know the rest. I got awfully comfortable with that bottle. I hate myself for being such a coward. Why the hell do I let him scare me?" Hutch had moved away from Starsky and was now on his feet and back at the window.
Starsky reached for the phone, remembering how he had had to search for it earlier. "Hutch, did he call? Is that why the phone was off the hook and under the couch?" Watching Hutch once again stare down at the street, Starsky vowed he would make sure Hutch never had to go through anything like that alone ever again.
Hutch turned toward Starsky, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm not sure. The phone rang and I guess I freaked and shoved it under the couch. Bet you're real proud of your partner, huh?" Watching as Starsky dialed the phone, Hutch asked, "Who you calling?"
"Dobey. I want someone watching your apartment round the clock. We're gonna get Nick and end this whole thing."
"No!" Hutch was across the room and grabbed the phone out of Starsky's hand. "No, I don't want anyone watching my apartment. I'll handle this on my own. I'm going to have to face Nick myself, or live like a coward the rest of my life."
"Hutch, don't be crazy." Starsky tried to get the phone away from Hutch.
"Don't be crazy? Starsk, I have to do this my way. Don't you think it's time I tried fighting back again? I was nearly killed by Nick and Jake, then...raped by Jake. I just spent a week drunk and afraid to leave my apartment. I want my life back. And I think the only way that's going to happen is if I settle this with Nick. Starsk...this is between Nick and me. Not you and Nick. You can't do this for me. Promise me, you'll let me handle this."
Listening to Hutch, Starsky had to admit that he may have a point. Maybe Hutch does have to settle this with Nick himself to get some sort of closure. I don't like it, though. Can I really promise I'll stay completely out of it?
"Hutch, I understand what you're saying and I can see that it's important for you to handle this, but I can't promise to stay completely out of it." Despite his fears, Starsky was proud that Hutch was ready to stand up for himself and work through his fear. "I'll try. I promise I'll try. But, Hutch, he's my brother, and this all started because of me. I know...I know it's not my fault, but put yourself in my position. Can you tell me you wouldn't feel any responsibility?"
"I'd probably feel the same way you're feeling, Starsk. But if you can't let me do this on my own, you might as well just lock me up here. I'm begging, at least let me try, Starsky, please."
Starsky stood quietly, not sure if the lump in his throat would even allow him to speak. "Do what you have to do." Reaching out, Starsky touched Hutch's cheek. Hutch's face was lined with fatigue. The week of terror had taken its toll. But his face also showed a renewed determination to take control once again, to fight back. "I'm proud of you, buddy. Real proud." Starsky's voice broke with huskiness. His emotions were running rampant.
Hutch grasped the hand that was resting on his cheek and squeezed it lightly. "Thanks, buddy. Hearing you say you're proud of me means a lot to me." Hutch reluctantly let go of Starsky's hand. Changing the subject before their emotions went totally out of control and they were crying like a couple of babies seemed like a good idea. "I'm going to go take some more aspirin."
"I'll get you some," Starsky said, as he started toward the bathroom.
"I can manage it, Starsky. Remember I'm only hung over, not dying. Why don't you get out of here and give Stacey a call? I'm sure you'd have a lot more fun with her than you would if you stick around here and watch me sleep." Just saying Stacey's name, Hutch felt a small flicker of jealousy.
Starsky turned back to his partner and tried to think of a response.
"Starsk? Something wrong?"
"Huh? Oh, no, nothing's wrong. I just think I'm going to cool things with Stacey." Starsky tried to sound normal. How do I explain that suddenly I'm more attracted to my partner than to a pretty female?
"You're not serious, are you? I thought things were going really well between the two of you." Hutch studied his partner's face, totally baffled at this change in Starsky's attitude toward Stacey. "I seem to recall you giving me a rather vivid description of one of your dates. Sounded like you were enjoying yourself a lot. What happened?"
"Heck, even I know that a good relationship needs more than good sex."
"You do?" Hutch couldn't resist the slight teasing. "I thought the two of you had a lot of fun together."
"We do have fun and the sex is good, but I just don't think it's enough. Okay? I really don't want to discuss this now."
"Okay." Hutch shrugged. "But sex and fun sound pretty damn good to me." Hutch continued on into the bathroom for the aspirin.
When Hutch returned, he found Starsky waiting for him. "Hey, Hutch, would it be okay if I crashed on your couch tonight? Just for tonight, okay?"
"What? You want to babysit me one more night?" Hutch's tone was light and teasing.
Starsky relaxed, he had been afraid Hutch would be angered by his request. "Actually, it's more for me than you. I...well, damn it, is it so wrong of me to want to make sure you get some undisturbed sleep? I mean, especially after what you've been through."
Hutch had a hard time not laughing at his stammering partner. "Starsk, the couch is all yours. Now I'm going to get some of that undisturbed sleep you were talking about." At the bedroom door, Hutch paused and turned around. "Thanks. It'll be nice to sleep with the lights off for a change."
The next morning, Starsky quietly made himself some coffee and toast. He would stop at his place for a shower and change of clothes before heading in to work.
Taking a quick look at his sleeping partner before he left, Starsky had to smile at the sight of his blond friend. He looked like an innocent little boy. His fine golden strands of hair fanned out across the pillow, as he slept peacefully. Innocent? Peaceful? What little innocence you might have had left after these years as a cop, Jake quickly destroyed, didn't he? And you've certainly had very little peace in your life lately.
Knowing full well he should be going so he wouldn't be late for work, Starsky eased himself onto the bed. Starsky grinned to himself. Hutch was so wrong. Watching Hutch sleep was fun.
Pulling the blanket up around Hutch, Starsky leaned down and, without thinking, placed a gentle kiss on his sleeping friend's forehead. Recognizing that he may have pushed things a little too far, he held his breath waiting to see if Hutch was going to wake up and punch him. Sorry, babe, but my feelings seem to be moving too fast for me to control. I've got to face it; I'm in love with you.
Forcing himself to his feet and taking one last look at the sleeping man on the bed, he turned and left the apartment.
Hutch opened his eyes and lay quietly, listening to the silence of the apartment. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, he realized it was so quiet because Starsky had been at work for the last three hours. I must have been more exhausted than I thought.
As he stretched, the thought of just rolling over and going back to sleep crossed his mind. Then he remembered he had things to do, plans to make. He was going to start taking back control of his own life today. Easier said than done.
After downing several cups of the now very strong coffee Starsky had made earlier that morning, Hutch pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. Making a quick trip to the bathroom, he splashed some cold water on his face and made a hasty brush of his teeth. Locating his running shoes that had been discarded haphazardly over a week ago, he was ready for his morning run. A little later than usual, but better late than never.
Hand on the doorknob, he felt himself hesitate...the same old fears and uncertainties trying to take control again. Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, he turned the knob and pulled open the door. He headed down the stairs, trying not to think. Outside he glanced around, but saw no sign of Nick.
Twenty minutes later, a sweating but triumphant Hutch was back in front of his building. He felt good. Running always helped relieve his tension. The sunshine and fresh air felt especially nice after being confined inside for a week. Before going in, his eyes scanned the area one more time, but once again, no sign of Nick. Did seeing Starsky here scare you, Nick?
Determined to give Nick every possible chance to make a move, Hutch was in and out all day. After his run, he headed to the gym. Later he did some shopping, then after dinner he took a walk. But saw no sign of Nick.
The rest of the week had passed much the same way...Hutch always making a point to be as visible as possible to Nick. The terror of the previous week had begun to fade some. The thought that Nick was still out there somewhere left Hutch feeling very vulnerable. A feeling he didn't like at all.
Hutch had insisted, much to Starsky's dismay, that Starsky not come around as much as usual. He didn't want anything to keep Nick from making his next move. He also wanted to avoid a confrontation between the two brothers. The waiting was getting to Hutch. He didn't know how much more he could take and he missed having Starsky around.
After some gentle prodding from Starsky, Hutch had rescheduled the appointment he had missed last week with Dr. Hanson. Yesterday had been his first visit. It was waste of time as far as he was concerned. He couldn't bring himself to open up, so what was the point? Next the doctor would probably want to talk about why Hutch couldn't open up. A total waste of time. But if it made Starsky happy, he'd go along with it.
Starsky pulled into a parking place just down the block from Hutch's apartment. He had been involved in his own little stakeout for days now. He knew he had promised Hutch he'd stay out of it, but he just couldn't take a chance on anything else happening to his partner.
Starsky had parked in the same spot the last few nights--just far enough from Hutch's that he could go unnoticed. His eyes rarely left the front of Hutch's building. A couple of times, he had observed Hutch standing near the window. The solitary figure staring into the darkness always brought a feeling of deep sadness to Starsky. What is he thinking about as he stares into the darkness? Is he still tormented by memories of what Nick and Jake had put him through? Is he realizing my feelings toward him are changing? Does the thought disgust him? Am I crazy to even think about Hutch in this way after what Jake did to him? Even if the idea didn't disgust him, would he be able to handle a change like that?
Starsky yawned and stretched, then glanced at his watch. The lights in Hutch's apartment had been out for a while now. Everything appeared to be quiet. Time to go home and get a few hours of sleep before dragging himself into work tomorrow. He hoped Nick would make his move soon, before Hutch or Dobey caught on to what Starsky was doing. Taking one last tour around Hutch's building, Starsky started the engine and pulled slowly out onto the street.
~~~
Nick Starsky sat back against the headboard of the bed. He'd been hiding out in this dingy little room for far too long now. He had never intended to be stuck in this dump for as long as he had been. Damn Jake. Damn him for screwing up things so badly. Hutchinson is still alive and big brother is doing the attentive, concerned routine. Never once have I been on the receiving end of that kind of love. Maybe I need to remind him who his true brother is. With Jake dead, it's up to me now to finish this once and for all.
Getting up from the sagging bed, Nick moved across the room to an old dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, he reached in and took out a Smith and Wesson 9-mm automatic. Just like big brother. Kind of fitting that your partner is going to get it with a gun just like yours. Nick smiled to himself as he made his way back to the bed. He placed the gun on the bedside table and patted it lovingly, as he resumed his place on the threadbare blanket that covered the dirty mattress. Soon, Hutchinson. Very soon. Smiling at the thought of being rid of his brother's partner, he turned off the light and settled down, quickly drifting off to sleep.
~~~
The alarm shattered the quiet of the early morning. Starsky groaned as he pushed the button to silence the alarm. Damn it, Hutch, why do you have to be so stubborn? If we'd work together as partners instead of you being so determined to do this on your own, maybe I could get a few more hours of sleep.
Struggling to get his eyes open, Starsky headed to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. While the coffee was brewing, he took a hot shower. The hot water felt good, and he spent a couple of extra minutes just relaxing as the water flowed over him. But a tinge of uneasiness began to intrude. And the tinge quickly expanded into a sense of urgency. The feeling that Hutch needed him propelled him out of the shower and into his clothes.
Within minutes, he was in the Torino and headed toward Hutch's. It couldn't hurt to stop by his partner's place on the way to work. He'd thought about calling him, but what he really needed was to see him.
~~~
Hutch sat on the edge of the bed, tying his shoes. Running was no longer the enjoyable experience it used to be. It had become more of a necessary job--something he had to do. He felt like a sitting duck, knowing that Nick was out there watching him and not knowing when he was going to make his move. Maybe I'm making a mistake not having Starsky watch my back. But I need to do this for myself. For myself...and Starsky. He doesn't need the grief of being caught in the middle between Nick and me. No matter what, Nick is his brother.
Unable to park directly in front of Hutch's building, Starsky found a place two buildings away and across the street. As he opened the door of the Torino, he spotted Hutch in front of his building. It was obvious he was about to set off for his morning run. Starsky's eyes scanned the area as he slid out of the car. Despite seeing Hutch, he was unable to completely shake that lingering uneasy feeling. Noticing nothing that seemed in any way threatening to his partner, Starsky felt a little foolish. He'd have a hard time explaining his presence this early in the morning to Hutch.
Preparing to slide back into the car, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. Nick? Then Starsky's eye caught the glint of a gun barrel. The realization that Nick stood across the street with a gun in his hand and--pointed at Hutch--propelled Starsky into action. He was out of the car and moving at a full run in the direction of his partner. He was unaware of anything but Hutch and the gun pointed at him.
Neither Hutch nor Nick were aware of the frantic figure rushing headlong into traffic in a desperate attempt to warn his partner. Instinctively, Starsky reached for his gun as he attempted to call out Hutch's name. Before he could draw his gun and begin to form the words to warn Hutch, Starsky heard the screeching of tires as the driver tried desperately to bring his car to a stop. The last thing Starsky heard was the loud thud of the car slamming into his body. He was thrown over the hood of the car and landed against the curb.
Hutch stopped as he heard the commotion behind him. Turning around, he could only stare in stunned disbelief at the sight of the body lying at an awkward angle, half on and half off the sidewalk. "Starsky?" A small crowd was already beginning to gather. The driver of the car was crouched beside Starsky's body. Hutch quickly made his way to his partner and knelt down, reaching fearfully to check for a pulse.
The flustered driver looked at Hutch with pleading eyes. "I tried to stop. Really, I tried to stop. Why did he run out into traffic like that?"
Relief washed over Hutch as he felt a pulse. The pulse wasn't as strong as Hutch would have liked, but it was there. "He's alive." Looking at the driver, Hutch said, "Call an ambulance." The driver quickly obeyed and was on his feet and heading for the nearest phone.
"Starsk...can you hear me? I'm here, Starsky. You're gonna be okay." Hutch was struggling to remain calm, but it wasn't easy. He was terrified out of his mind. Starsky was so still and his head lay in a pool of blood. It was obvious that his head had hit the edge of the sidewalk. And from the looks of the side of his head it had hit hard. Please let him be okay. I can't lose him, not now...not ever. Hutch pulled off his sweatshirt. He wanted to slide it under Starsky's bleeding head that was resting on the hard concrete. But afraid to inflict any further damage, Hutch settled for gently holding the shirt against the open and bleeding gash, in an attempt to slow the bleeding.
"The ambulance is on its way." Hutch looked up to see the anxious face of the driver.
"I need a blanket to cover him." Hutch felt so helpless just waiting for the ambulance to arrive. The man nodded and headed off again.
The driver returned with a blanket, which Hutch took, grateful to have something to do. Gently placing the blanket over his partner, he leaned closer and whispered, "I'm right here, buddy. Help is on the way." Why the hell did you run out in front of that car? You're supposed to be at work. Hutch studied the pale and already bruising face of his partner. He's so damn still. Hutch suddenly felt very much like he was going to fall apart any second. This can't be happening. Gently patting the blanket covered arm of his friend, Hutch closed his eyes, willing himself not to give into the tears that were already slowly filling his eyes.
Hearing the sounds of sirens, Hutch leaned down and whispered, "It's gonna be okay, Starsk. Help is almost here. You hang on, you hear me?"
Minutes later, the small crowd that had gathered had been moved aside, along with the driver and Hutch. The paramedics had found the blond a real handful to deal with. They had to forcibly move him out of the way. The look that passed between the paramedics as they examined the gash in Starsky's head didn't escape Hutch. Starsky was hurt bad. He stood anxiously watching, as the paramedics attended to Starsky. Quickly checking his vital signs, they placed an oxygen mask over his mouth. An IV was started, and Starsky was placed on a backboard. Padding was placed on either side of his head and then taped securely in place. Hutch swallowed hard as he looked down at his friend lying on the backboard with his head immobilized. Please don't let him be seriously hurt.
"Detective Hutchinson?" Hutch took his eyes off Starsky to find a uniformed officer looking questioningly at him.
"Yes."
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Obviously the officer knew him, but Hutch couldn't place him."
"Huh...? Oh, no." Hutch’s eyes quickly shifted back to Starsky.
"Is there anyone I can call for you?" The officer wanted to assist the detective in some way. Like many others in their precinct, this officer had a lot of respect for the team of Starsky and Hutchinson. He also knew how close the two detectives were. And right now, the blond half of the famed partnership looked ready to crumble. He had heard Hutchinson had been on a medical leave after being beaten and shot. From the looks of the detective now, if they didn't get Starsky loaded into that ambulance and on his way to the hospital real soon, they would have another patient to attend to. "Detective...is there someone I can call?"
Hutch brought his attention back to the officer, but did so reluctantly. "Call? Oh...yeah... Dobey...Captain Dobey. Dobey should be called." Hutch's forlorn look told of his struggle to concentrate on what the officer was saying. "I gotta go with Starsky." Hutch moved closer to the ambulance they were preparing to load Starsky into. Once Starsky and the paramedics were in the ambulance, Hutch stepped up to get in behind them. Before the paramedics could say anything, the officer had moved closer, getting their attention.
"That's his partner. He should be with him." The paramedic nodded and reached out to pull Hutch up and into the ambulance.
After arriving at the hospital, Hutch watched with a rising feeling of panic as the still unconscious Starsky was wheeled away. Part of him wanted to not let Starsky out of his sight. What if this is the last time I see him alive? But the hospital staff had made it clear that this was as far he could go.
Feeling very alone and lost, Hutch glanced around, looking for the waiting room. God, how I hate hospitals.
"Hutch, how is he?"
Hutch turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Captain Dobey stood watching the blond detective. He knew how hard this had to be on him. The two detectives were close. Closer than most brothers.
"I don't know. They just took him in." Hutch gestured toward the closed doors.
"Come on, let's go sit down in the waiting room." Dobey put his hand on Hutch's arm and guided him toward the waiting room at the end of the hall.
Hutch turned and looked at the closed doors once more and allowed himself to be led to the waiting room.
They sat in silence for a long time. Discreetly studying the young detective, Dobey could see the strain etched in the blond's face. Starsky had assured him that Hutch was doing well and would soon be back to work. Now, with this in addition to everything else, Dobey couldn't help wonder how Hutch would handle it all.
Unable to sit still any longer, Hutch got up and began to slowly pace the waiting room. Dobey watched, wishing he could find the words to give him some comfort...some hope. Hutch stopped in front of where Dobey sat. "He has to make it. I can't lose him now." The words were spoken softly and he hadn't expected a response. Hutch resumed his pacing.
"Anyone here waiting for word on Mr. Starsky?"
Dobey shot to his feet, and Hutch abruptly stopped his pacing to stand in front of the somewhat imposing figure of the doctor.
"How is he?" Hutch's eyes were begging for the news to be good. Dobey put a steadying hand on the blond's shoulder to let him know he wasn't alone.
"He's one very lucky young man. He took a hard knock to his head. He has a concussion and is pretty banged up. He has a couple of broken ribs. But all in all, like I said, he's a lucky man." The doctor paused. "He's been kind of restless, mumbling...calling for someone named Hutch...then Nick...then Hutch. He may be in and out of consciousness and confused for a while. We're going to keep him here at least overnight."
"Can I see him? Just for a few minutes?" Despite the relief hearing Starsky was going to be okay, Hutch knew he wouldn't really believe it until he could see Starsky for himself.
"Okay, just for a few minutes. Then I suggest you go home and get some rest. You look like you could use some."
"I will."
"He's on the fourth floor, room 411. Remember just for a couple of minutes. He needs his rest."
"I'll wait here for you and give you a ride back to your place," Dobey said, as he watched the blond hurry toward the elevator.
Hutch tried to calm the building anger within him that had started when the doctor had mentioned Starsky mumbling about Nick. Nick...you bastard. You're the reason Starsky was outside my place so early this morning. Why? What were you up to? Nick...you're going to pay for this. I'm coming after you, Nick, and I'm going to get you. Count on it.
Hutch quietly pushed open the door to room 411 and stood, taking in the sight of his partner. His partner who was still alive. Moving to the side of the bed, Hutch sat down and pulled the chair closer to the bed. "You're gonna be okay, buddy. Good thing you've got such a hard head." Hutch didn't care that his partner couldn't hear him. It just felt good to be talking to him. "I've got to go now. There's something important I need to take care of. I'll be back later, though."
Dobey pulled up outside Hutch's apartment. "Try and get some rest before you go back to the hospital."
"Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks for the ride." Hutch slid out of the car. He wasn't anxious to prolong the conversation with Dobey. He didn't want Dobey asking him too many questions right now, and he certainly didn't want him bringing up the subject of Nick.
"You keep me informed of things okay, Hutch?"
"I will. Thanks again."
Hutch watched as Dobey drove off, then hurried up to his apartment. Plans began to formulate in his mind the second he realized Nick was somehow involved in Starsky's accident. Did your brother see you today, Nick? What did you have planned? Did he somehow stop you from carrying out your plans?
A quick shower and a change of clothes, and Hutch was almost ready. Retrieving his Magnum from the closet, Hutch slid it into his holster. Now he was ready. There was no way he was going looking for Nick Starsky without his gun.
His next stop would be Starsky's place, where he would pick up a picture of Nick. He figured Nick was probably staying somewhere nearby. Nick had to know there was a warrant out for his arrest, which meant he'd want to stay out of sight, somewhere close. So Hutch intended to show Nick's picture around the neighborhood and in some cheap hotels. No more waiting for Nick to make his move. That was my first mistake.
Outside, Hutch stood and looked around. He was taking no chances of Nick getting the drop on him. Satisfied that Nick didn't seem to be in the area, he headed for his car.
Half an hour later, armed with the most recent photograph of Nick he could find, Hutch began canvassing the areas surrounding his apartment. He knew Nick wouldn't dare be too close, but he'd bet he was within several blocks. He parked and walked to the next block, stopping and showing Nick's photograph to people on the street. No one recognized him. He's here, I know he is.
Moving further down the street, Hutch continued showing the photo, but with the same results. Not willing to give up, he continued on, crossing over to the other side of the street. Despite his belief Nick was in the area, he felt his spirits fall. He was hot, tired and hungry, and his anger at Nick was quickly rising. I should be with Starsky.
Wondering just how much more of this he could take, Hutch approached a man selling newspapers, and asked, "Maybe you can help me. You ever see this guy around here?" He held out the picture of Nick and watched as the man studied it. He was relieved to see a look of recognition spread across the weathered face.
"Sure, I've seen him around. Buys a paper from me every day." He handed the photograph back to Hutch.
"Do you know where I can find him?" Hutch asked. He could feel the adrenaline kicking in. Could he really be only minutes away from finding Nick? And then what?
"Yeah, he lives down there." The man pointed down the street to one of the seedier hotels. "Not exactly the friendly type. Bit on the mean side if you ask me."
"Yeah, I know. We've met." Hutch handed the man a twenty-dollar bill. "Thanks."
"Hey, anytime, pal." The man smiled as he shoved the twenty into his pocket. "Anytime."
Hutch turned and headed down the street toward his car. His stomach was churning. He no longer thought about being hot, tired or hungry. But the anger was still present and building. Sliding into his car, images of the horrific things that had happened flashed through his mind. Nick and Jake...the beating...Jake...the rape...the fear he'd been living with...Starsky lying in a pool of blood. All these images fueled his anger.
Starting the car, he threw it into gear and sped off toward the hotel the man at the newsstand had pointed out. Nick Starsky, you're gonna pay
Roaring into the parking lot of the run down hotel, Hutch slammed on the brakes. He barely waited for the car to come to a complete stop before he was out and heading toward the hotel office. The man behind the desk stared, startled as Hutch slammed the door loudly behind him.
"What room is he in?" Hutch ground out the words as he shoved the picture of Nick in his face. Hutch’s vengeful tone was all the man needed to convince him he should divulge any and all information concerning the man in the picture.
"He's...he's in room 308." The man nervously pointed toward the elevator.
"Just one more thing," Hutch barked. "Get me the police on the phone--ninth precinct."
"Yes, sir." He quickly dialed the phone, keeping one eye on the madman that stood across the desk from him.
"Ask for Captain Dobey and give him this address. Tell him Detective Hutchinson needs back-up. You got that?" Without waiting for a reply, Hutch entered the elevator and punched the button for the third floor.
~~~