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Sometimes We Don't Have To Be Brave

By

Jerrye

   "There, look, under the bridge.  HUTCH, look!"  Starsky yelled excitedly.

   Hutch smiled as he finished digging the duck bread from the back seat. He hurried down the little hill to the slow moving canal water.  If hearts smile, his sure was now.

   He slid beside Starsky sitting on the bank and looked where he was pointing.  Yeah, there they were.  Three, four, eight fuzzy ducklings behind mama.

   "They are cute," he said smiling and handing the bread to Starsky.

   They sit enjoying the ducks, enjoying life.  Hutch was getting as much pleasure watching Starsky as Starsky was getting from feeding the ducks.

   This was nice.  Starsky had finally shown the beginnings of `Starsky` normal.  Since Gunther, pain, sweat and tears had been the norm for them both.  Now, lately, the Starsky bounce was there. Still weak, just like Starsky, but there.  Gunther didn't get that.

   They sit in silence for sometime.  The grueling physical therapy always left them both tired, and lately Starsky had pushed himself close to beyond his limit.  He was yawning and rolling his tired shoulders now.

   "Come on partner.  I'm tired."

   "We'll come back tomorrow, right Hutch?"

   "Sure, Ill get an extra loaf just for them."  He knew this would give Starsky something to look forward to during the difficult therapy tomorrow.

   Starsky had been living at Venice Place since the shooting.  Hutch had bought a larger couch and actually been quite comfortable on it.  If he missed any comforts of living alone, he just watched the miracle of Starsky breathing.  They had always been more together than apart anyway.

   Much later, sometime in the  middle of the night, Hutch woke cold.  The cover tossed on the floor. The days were getting warmer but the nights still very cool.  Before his drowsy mind registered cold, he heard the soft noise. Throwing his long legs off the couch, his first step hardly touched the floor.

   The muffled sound, too soft for a real moan, he had heard before.  Starsky sometimes cried late at night, usually in his sleep.  The only time he couldn't be brave.  He was striving so hard for independence.  God heed come so far, mostly on sheer determination.  Now, though, it was dark and quiet and rest seemed hard to come.

   Hutch padded softly to the bed.  Starsky was on his stomach,  his arms wrapped around his pillow, his eyes closed.  Hutch pulled the cover over his back, then tried to  smooth out a particularly rowdy curl.  He smiled as the curl hugged his finger, as if it had a mind of its on.  He wiped at Starsky's tears and felt him relax.

   Hutch started back to the couch when dark blue eyes stopped him. Starsky was still more asleep then awake.  A very soft sob and a hiccup were the only sounds he made.  Hutch sat and again wiped at his tears.

   "It's okay Starsk.  We can cry all we want late at night.  It's just us"

   Starsky left the pillow and scooted to Hutch's leg.  Wrapping his arms and burying his check there, he closed his eyes.  They stayed like that for awhile.  Hutch lightly rubbing his shoulders and neck.

   After awhile, Hutch gently tried to disengage the hold.  "Starsky, you're going to get stiff."  Starsky just held on tighter.

   Sometime later Hutch tried a firmer grip.  "Starsky, come on babe.  I'm not leaving you."

   Starsky then let Hutch maneuver him back to the pillow, moving him over enough to lay beside him. Before Hutch was settled, Starsky turned, found and substituted Hutch's shoulder for his leg. Hutch's arm went around him, holding.

   As he drifted off, Starsky thought what a better choice this was over the pillow or even Hutch's leg. And the tears stopped.

THE END