Pat Chachich

   Starsky pulled the Torino into his usual parking space in the Metro police garage, turned off the ignition, and turned his best pleading look on his partner. "Aww, c'mon, Hutch. Can't ya give me just one little hint?"

   Hutch sighed and shook his head. "Starsk, your birthday's only two weeks away. You're just going to have to wait. "

   "But, Hutch..."

   Hutch put off any further begging by jumping out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He headed for the building, calling over his shoulder, "Let's go. Dobey's gonna kill us if we're late again."

   Starsky hurried to catch up with him, a disappointed look on his face. Hutch felt bad about cutting his partner off so abruptly, but Starsky had been pestering him about his birthday present ever since he picked up Hutch for work that morning, and Hutch was finding it increasingly difficult not to give in. And, for once, he wanted to be able to keep Starsky's present a surprise until his actual birthday. He looked over at his pouting partner as they waited at the elevator and gave Starsky's shoulder a brief squeeze.

   "Sorry, Starsk. But you know it's more fun if it's a surprise."

   "I guess so", Starsky muttered, not looking convinced.

   Starsky seemed to be back to his usual self by the time the elevator let them out at their floor. As soon as they walked into the squad room, they could tell something was up. Everyone looked up when they entered the room, then quickly went back to their work. Starsky, carrying his usual breakfast, looked over at Hutch.

   "What's the matter, haven't they ever seen anyone eat donuts before?"

   "Beats me", said Hutch. "Maybe you should have brought enough to share." He grinned, poking his partner in the side. "Anyway", he said, ignoring Starsky's glare, "I have a feeling we're about to find out what's up."

   He nodded toward the doorway to Captain Dobey's office, where their supervisor had just appeared. Spying the two detectives, he yelled, "Hutchinson! Starsky! It's about time you two showed up. Get in here, now."

   Exchanging raised eyebrows, they followed Dobey into the office. Hutch closed the door behind them while Starsky attempted to calm their agitated boss.

   "C'mon, Cap, me and Hutch aren't late." He pulled up his sleeve to show his watch. "Look, it's only --"

   "Save it, Starsky", Dobey cut in. "We've got more important things to worry about. Ronald Patterson has escaped from prison."

   Starsky and Hutch's eyes widened in surprise.

   "What?"

   "When?"

   The Patterson case had happened five years ago, but both of them remembered it clearly. A particularly cold and ruthless serial killer, Ronald Patterson had killed five people over four months. His victims had been all different types of people; a college student, a businessman, a hooker, a vagrant, a secretary. The only thing consistent had been the sequence of events surrounding their deaths. Patterson had abducted his victims, and tortured them before killing them. But perhaps the most chilling part was the fact that after killing each victim, he had taken their picture and had it delivered to the police as if bragging about what he had done.

   "Apparently he escaped sometime late last night", Dobey answered. "He stabbed a guard and snuck out with a food delivery truck. They didn't notice he was missing until this morning."

   "What kind of security do they have at that prison, anyway?" Hutch demanded angrily. Then he paused. "Is the guard alright?"

   "He'll live," Dobey said shortly. "But if we don't find Patterson soon, you can bet there'll be someone else who won't be so lucky. I talked to the warden at the prison. According to Patterson's cellmate, Patterson has been talking a lot lately about, as he put it, 'settling the score with those scum that put me here'."

   Starsky snorted. "Terrific. It's not like he had anything to do with getting himself sent to prison."

   Dobey picked up a thick folder from his desk. "Here's the file. You'd better start reading."

   Starsky took the folder and sat down in one of the chairs facing Dobey's desk. Hutch perched on the arm of the chair so he could read over his shoulder.

   "Patterson had a girlfriend, Sheila Adams", Hutch noted. "Maybe she could tell us something."

   "I remember her", Starsky said. "I don't think they were exactly chummy by the end of the trial, once she had to face what he did."

   "That's right", Hutch recalled. "He was pretty upset when she walked out after the verdict was announced."

   "Yeah, he really lost it that day", Starsky remembered. "Started yelling at his lawyer, the judge. Guards ended up having to drag him out of there."

   "Guess we could still see if she knows anything. We should at least let her know he's out."

   Starsky nodded. "Right. And we can check with Huggy to see if he's heard anything."

   Both rose together and turned towards the door. "Anything else, Captain?" Hutch asked.

   Dobey frowned. "Yes, there's something else", he growled. "You seem to be conveniently leaving out the fact that Patterson threatened someone else that day." He paused, fixing them both with a stern glare. "You two."

   Starsky and Hutch exchanged a look. "Yeah, Cap, we know", Starsky said quietly.

   Hutch nodded. They both looked at Dobey, the unspoken message clear. This wasn't the first time someone they had helped send to prison had threatened them and it wouldn't be the last.

   Dobey stared back at them for a moment, then sighed. "All right, get going. But be careful", he said gruffly.

   Both gave him a small smile. "Always are, Cap", Starsky said as they headed out the door, and Dobey was left there shaking his head.

~~~~~~~~

   Their first stop after leaving Dobey's office was The Pits. As it was only mid-morning, the place was nearly deserted. Huggy greeted them from behind the bar, smiling broadly. "Well, well, if it isn't my two favorite detectives. Always happy to see you gentlemen."

   "Hey, Huggy, how's it going?" Starsky slid onto a stool at the bar.

   "Can't complain, can't complain", Huggy replied. "Looks like you two can't say the same, though", he said, taking in their serious expressions.

   "Yeah, Hug, we've had better days", sighed Hutch, sitting down next to Starsky. "And it's not even half over yet. I guess you've heard about Patterson breaking out?"

   "That I have", Huggy said. "That dude is definitely bad news."

   "You can say that again", Hutch agreed. "Have you heard anything about where he might be holed up?"

   "Not a word, my man, but I'll keep my ear to the ground. You might find this useful, though." Huggy reached into his pocket, pulled out a small piece of paper, and held it out to them.

   "What's this?" Starsky took the paper from him, read it, then passed it to Hutch.

   "Sheila Adams' current address. You were planning on going to talk with her, weren't you?"

   Both detectives grinned at him. "Huggy, you're amazing", Starsky said.

   "Yeah, Hug", Hutch agreed. "We owe you one."

   "Make sure you remember that, okay?" Huggy told them with mock sternness.

   Hutch just chuckled and turned toward the door. "C'mon, Starsk. Let's go pay Miss Adams a visit."

   Starsky waved as he followed him out. "See ya, Hug."

~~~~~~~~

   Half and hour later, they were knocking on the door at the address Huggy had given them. After knocking a second time, the door was finally opened by a young woman with long dark hair. She appeared distracted. Starsky and Hutch held up their badges and Hutch asked, "Miss Adams? I'm Sergeant Hutchinson and this is my partner Sergeant Starsky. Can we come in and talk to you a minute?"

   Sheila hesitated. "I really don't have time. I'm very busy."

   "It'll only take a minute, Miss Adams", Hutch insisted. "It's really very important." Sheila still looked doubtful, but opened the door wider to let them in.

   They entered the small apartment, both automatically glancing around for anything suspicious. A suitcase was open on the bed, half filled with clothes, and the closet and dresser drawers were open. Sheila picked up a pile of clothes from a chair and placed them in the suitcase.

   "Planning a trip?" Starsky asked.

   Sheila didn't pause in her packing. "I heard on the news about that low life Patterson escaping from prison. I'm getting out of here."

   "Well, that's your choice, Miss Adams", said Hutch. "You can be sure we're doing everything we can to put him back behind bars. We were hoping you could help us. Do you have any idea where he might go or who he might contact on the outside?"

   Sheila slammed her suitcase shut and turned to face them angrily. "I haven't had anything to do with him since the trial. He can rot in hell for all I care." She picked up her suitcase and headed toward the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a plane to catch."

   The three stood staring at each other, then Starsky and Hutch looked at each other and shrugged, each stepping aside to let her pass between them. As they watched her walk out the door, Starsky muttered sarcastically, "Well, that was useful." Hutch just snorted and shook his head.

~~~~~~~~

   The rest of the day and the next passed fairly uneventfully. They visited the lawyer that defended Patterson at his trial, but he couldn't give them any answers. They received a few tips about Patterson's supposed whereabouts, but they all turned out to be dead ends.

   It was late when Starsky dropped Hutch off at his apartment after dinner. He got out and stood by the car, watching while Hutch opened the front door.

   Hutch flipped on an inside light, then turned to look back at Starsky. "Okay, Starsk, you can go home now. Looks like everything's fine."

   Starsky blushed, embarrassed that Hutch had seen through him so easily. But Starsky had to admit, the idea of Patterson being on the loose, especially after the way he had threatened to "make them pay" at the trial, was making him nervous.

   He waved his hand at Hutch. "Okay, okay. Get on inside before you wake up the neighbors. I'll see ya tomorrow."

   "See ya, Starsk." Hutch turned to go inside, then turned back. "Hey, Starsk?"

   Starsky paused, half in, half out of the car. "Yeah, Blondie?"

   Hutch suddenly seemed uncomfortable. "Umm...I just...well...give me a call when you get home, okay?"

   Starsky smiled. It was nice to know he wasn't the only one who was nervous. "Yes, Mom", he said, getting into the car. He rolled down the window and leaned out. "Night, Hutch."

   Hutch grinned. "Night, Starsk."

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky let himself into his apartment and carefully locked the door behind him. Taking off his jacket and gun, he hung them on the hooks near the door. He took a beer from the refrigerator, then sat down on the couch and reached for the phone. He dialed Hutch's number, then frowned. The phone was busy. Oh well, he thought, somebody else must have called Hutch. He'd try again in a few minutes. He turned on the TV, looking for something interesting to watch.

   Fifteen minutes later, a commercial came on the TV and he dialed Hutch's number again. Still busy. Unable to decide whether to be annoyed or worried, he tried to concentrate on the movie on the TV, but found himself unable to follow it. Only 10 minutes had passed before he was dialing Hutch's number again.

   Still busy. Starsky growled in frustration. "Get off the damn phone, Hutchinson." Everything is fine, he told himself. He dialed again five minutes later.

   At the sound of the busy signal, he slammed the phone down and jumped up to pace. Come on, Starsky, he said to himself. Get a grip. He's just talking to somebody. You know how Hutch likes to talk.

   But he couldn't seem to shake the growing sense of unease in his gut. After trying Hutch's number again five minutes later and still finding it busy, Starsky couldn't stand it any more.

   He grabbed his jacket and gun and headed the Torino towards Hutch's place, fervently praying he would find his partner involved in some long-winded conversation. But somehow, he wasn't so sure. And as he pulled the Torino in next to Hutch's car, the growing unease he had been feeling started to turn into a full-fledged panic.

~~~~~~~~

   Hutch's door was wide open, light from inside spilling out onto the front porch. Starsky walked up slowly, pulling his gun and taking deep breaths to try and calm his pounding heart. He could hear the sound of the TV coming from inside. He carefully approached the door.

   "Hutch?" he called. "Hey, Hutch, you in there?"

   Starsky entered the apartment, hoping against hope that he would see his partner sitting on the couch. And I won't even yell at him for not answering the phone, he thought. Just let him be alright.

   But what he saw when he entered the apartment removed any hope that Hutch was alright. The place looked like it had been struck by a tornado. Several chairs were overturned, and one of the table lamps lay in pieces on the floor. Books and papers were scattered around the room, as well as the cushions from the couch. The phone dangled off the hook.

   "Oh, no, no, no..." he repeated to himself as he moved further into the room. "Hutch?" he called again. "Hutch?" He quickly searched the rest of the apartment, but found no sign of his partner.

   Coming back to stand in the middle of the living room, Starsky's thoughts were racing. Oh, God, Hutch, what happened? I knew I should have come in with you to check things out. I should have been here. I should have known Patterson would try..." He stopped and closed his eyes at the thought of Hutch in the hands of that maniac.

   Swallowing hard, he rubbed his hand across his eyes. He couldn't break down, not now. Hutch needed him. He had to find him before... "Stop it!" he told himself. "This isn't getting you anywhere."

   Going over to the phone, he picked up the receiver and jiggled the switch. Finding a dial tone, he quickly dialed the precinct, asking for a crime lab team. He hung up, then picked up the phone again to call Dobey.

~~~~~~~~

   Dobey arrived only a few minutes after the crime team. Starsky filled him in, trying to stay calm, trying to keep the images of what might be happening to Hutch out of his mind. He refused to let himself believe that Hutch wasn't still alive. Patterson had a history of torturing his victims before killing them, and, while the thought of Hutch going through that tore his heart out, at least it bought them some time. Because the thought that Hutch might already be dead was simply too much to bear.

   After the crime team had finished, Starsky headed back to the station, where he spent the rest of the night going over Patterson's case file in minute detail, desperately searching for anything that could tell him where Patterson might have taken Hutch.

~~~~~~~~

   It was around 6 a.m., and Starsky was up getting yet another cup of coffee, when Captain Dobey walked into the squad room.

   "Hey, Cap," Starsky said tiredly, surprised to see him there two hours before the shift started. "You're here early."

   Dobey looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd come in and see if there's anything new on Hutchinson."

   Starsky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "No," he said. "I've been through every page of that file. All of Patterson's victims were found in different spots. One on the docks, one in a warehouse, he even dumped one of them in the park. Unless we get a break, we'll have to search the whole city, and I don't know if we have that much time." His voice broke at the thought of not finding Hutch in time.

   Seeing the state Starsky was in, Dobey laid his hand on the young detective's shoulder. he cleared his throat. "Take it easy, son. We'll find him if I have to have every cop in the city looking."

   Starsky had regained his composure and gave his captain a small smile. "Thanks, Cap." He sighed again. "I was just gonna call Huggy and see if he knows anything," he said, picking up the phone.

   Huggy was shocked and upset about Hutch, and quick to assure Starsky that he was there if Starsky needed him. Unfortunately, he didn't have any information on Patterson.

~~~~~~~~

   The next two days were an emotional roller coaster for Starsky. Dobey had extra units searching the docks and the warehouse district, as well as the city in general. There were a few reports of suspicious activity or possible sightings of Patterson, but all turned out to be false alarms.

   Starsky would feel his hopes lift as each one was called in, only to have them fall farther each time nothing was found. He refused to stop believing that Hutch would be alright, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his faith alive. Whenever he felt himself starting to doubt, though, he only had to picture Hutch and it would give him the strength to keep going.

   "Hang on, buddy. I'm coming. Just hang on," he repeated to himself over and over.

~~~~~~~~

   Late in the evening on the second day after Hutch's disappearance, Starsky found himself at Hutch's apartment, hoping he might find some clue that had been overlooked. The yellow crime scene tape had been removed, and if it weren't for the disarray inside, it would almost seem as if everything was normal.

   Starsky wandered around the apartment, picking things up and putting them away. Being here made him feel closer to Hutch, but it also reminded him of how much he missed him. He bent to pick up a broken picture frame from the floor of the living room. Turning it over, he stared at the photograph it contained.

   It was one of himself and Hutch, taken last summer at a cookout on the beach. They were both laughing and smiling, arms around each other's shoulders. Starsky felt tears come to his eyes as he looked at it, thinking it seemed like forever since they had laughed together like that. He sank down on the couch, still looking at the picture.

   "Oh, Hutch, where are you, buddy?" he said out loud. He was still for a moment, as if waiting for an answer, but heard only the silence of the empty apartment. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back against the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Hutch. Gradually his body succumbed to the exhaustion of two days with no rest, and he fell into a fitful sleep, still holding the picture.

~~~~~~~~

   The sky was dark and cloudy. Starsky had been walking for a long time, searching for something, when at the top of a cliff a tall blonde figure appeared. Starsky gasped, "Hutch!"

   Hutch turned and smiled at him, though his eyes were sad. He stretched one hand toward Starsky. "Starsk. Help me."

   "I'm coming, buddy. Hang on."

   Starsky hurried toward his friend. But no matter how hard he tried, Hutch remained just out of reach. Starsky hurried faster and faster, until he was running, but still he couldn't reach his partner. And Hutch kept calling to him for help.

   Trying as hard as he could, Starsky finally got to the top of the cliff. He reached for Hutch, but just as his hand was about to close over his friend's, Hutch fell backward off the cliff, still with that same sad smile on his face.

   Starsky lunged forward, trying to grab for him, but Hutch fell down, down into a seemingly bottomless dark pit, and Starsky could do nothing but watch in horror as his best friend disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~

   "No! Hutch!" Starsky bolted upright on the couch, screaming, his breath coming in short gasps. He was covered in a cold sweat. Disoriented, he looked around, gradually calming as he realized where he was. Hutch's apartment.

   He took a shaky breath. "Oh, God. It was a dream." He wiped his hand across his face and closed his eyes, trying to block out the nightmare images that still ran through his mind. Usually when he woke from a nightmare he would call Hutch, and no matter what time of night it was, Hutch would listen and talk to him, and sometimes joke him out of his fears. But now Hutch was missing, and in the two days he had been gone, they had come no closer to finding him.

   Starsky felt very alone and scared. He gave in to the tears that had been threatening all night, laying over sideways on the couch and hugging one of the cushions to his chest.

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky awakened early the next morning stiff from having spent the night curled into a ball on the couch. He took a shower and changed into some of his clothes that he found in Hutch's closet. Downing a cup of coffee, he headed for the station to see if there had been any progress, even though he knew Dobey had left orders to call him if they found any leads.

   He tried to ignore the sympathetic glances he got from the other detectives as they told him about their fruitless night. He knew almost everybody else, except maybe Capt. Dobey and Huggy, thought Hutch was dead. But Starsky refused to give up that one last shred of hope that they would find his partner in time.

   Spurred by that thought, he headed out to cruise the warehouse district, checking in with the units there. Several hours later, he stopped at Huggy's on the way back to the station.

   "Hey, Starsk," Huggy greeted him. "Any word yet?" He didn't really have to ask, he could tell from Starsky's haggard appearance that nothing had changed.

   Starsky sighed and ran his hand through his already rumpled hair. "No, Hug, nothing," he said in a hollow voice. He was hoping Huggy would have had some news for him. "It's like Patterson took him and vanished from the face of the earth."

   "Damn!" He slammed his hand down on the bar in frustration. "I don't know what to do, Hug. When I think about what Hutch must be going through with that son-of-a-..." His voice broke and his hand on the bar clenched into a fist, his eyes closing as he tried to maintain a hold on his emotions.

   Huggy put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing firmly. "Hey, Starsk, Hutch is tough. He's been through rough situations before and he'll get through this one too. Right?"

   Starsky swallowed hard, struggling for composure. "That's what I keep telling myself, Hug," he said shakily. He took a deep breath and patted Huggy on the arm. "Thanks, Huggy," he said, trying to smile, but not quite making it. "I've gotta get back to the station, okay? I'll see ya."

   Huggy watched him go, wondering what would happen to Starsky if they didn't find Hutch in time.

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky entered the squad room and headed for the coffeepot. As he filled his cup and took a sip, he couldn't help but think of how Hutch would be after him about drinking too much caffeine. Then he sighed, thinking he would do anything to have Hutch here right now, lecturing him on his eating habits.

   He walked over to his desk, idly looking through the stack of mail there. He frowned at the plain manila envelope with no return address, no stamp, and no postmark. It was addressed simply to 'Detective Sergeant Starsky, Metro Division'.

   Putting down his coffee cup, he picked up the envelope and opened it. A small sheet of paper and a photograph fell out. Starsky picked up the paper and read the unsigned note, "One down, one to go".

   "What the hell?" he said as he picked up the picture and turned it over.

   Suddenly the room seemed to spin around him, the noise of the other detectives sounding far away. He swayed on his feet, struggling to catch his breath. He was dimly aware of someone's hands on his arms, forcing him to sit down, pushing his head down.

   "Starsky! What is it? What's wrong?" Dobey demanded worriedly. Starsky just shook his head, unable to speak.

   Dobey noticed the photograph Starsky had dropped back on the desk, and he picked it up. "Oh, dear God," he gasped, staring at the picture in horror.

   It showed a man lying crumpled on the floor, his hands and feet bound, his face bruised and swollen. There was blood on the side of his head and on his shirt.

   It was Hutch.

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky's dizziness slowly subsided, but the pain in his heart did not. Dobey had sent the photograph, the note, and the outer envelope to the lab to be checked for fingerprints, but though it was out of sight, nothing could erase that image of Hutch from Starsky's mind.

   "Oh, Hutch, he thought. I'm sorry, buddy, I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. Oh, God, Hutch, what did that bastard do to you?" He covered his face with his hands.

   Dobey put his arm on Starsky's shoulders and gently but firmly urged him out of the chair and into Dobey's office, then closed the door behind them. Starsky walked automatically across the room, sinking slowly into a chair, his head once again dropping to his hands. Dobey pulled the other chair around to face Starsky, leaning forward to place his hand on Starsky's arm, and tried to think of something to say to ease the other man's anguish.

   "We'll get him, Starsky. We'll get that scum and put him back behind bars. And this time he's not getting out."

   Starsky slowly raised his head to look at his captain. "How are we gonna find him?" His voice was shaking. "Cap, you know why Patterson sends those pictures. It means Hutch is...is..."

   Dobey felt his own throat tighten and his eyes stung as he watched Starsky fight for composure. Though he was a captain of detectives and supposed to be impartial, he had always had a soft spot for these two particular detectives. They drove him crazy at times with their unorthodox methods, but they were also the most effective team of detectives he had ever worked with. And he knew how close they were. One without the other was almost unthinkable. He wondered what would happen to Starsky now without his partner.

   Looking at Starsky, Dobey took in the face etched with exhaustion and grief, the slumped shoulders, the jaw that kept clenching as Starsky tried to keep his emotions in check. He squeezed Starsky's arm. "Why don't you go home and get some rest, son? You're almost out on your feet. It won't help anything if you make yourself sick."

   Starsky looked up, his eyes bleak. "But, Captain, I've still gotta find him. Hutch..."

   "Let me take care of things for now, Starsky," Dobey said gently. "I'll call you if we find out anything."

   Starsky looked like he wanted to argue, but then just sighed. "Okay, Cap. Thanks."

   He stood up and walked slowly out of the office, as if even putting one foot in front of the other required enormous effort. Dobey watched him go, wondering to himself if he had lost two detectives instead of one.

~~~~~~~~~

   Starsky's desk phone was ringing as he passed it on the way out of the squad room. He almost ignored it, but then habit won out and he picked up the receiver.

   "Starsky."

   The voice on the other end was taunting and sarcastic. "Well, hello, Sergeant Starsky. Did you get anything interesting in the mail today?"

   Starsky frowned. "What? Who is this?"

   The voice continued. "I think you'll agree that wasn't one of your partner's more photogenic moments, was it?"

   Starsky felt a sudden surge of anger break through the fog that had surrounded him since he had seen the picture of Hutch. "Patterson? You bastard. You're gonna pay for this."

   "Oh now, temper, temper, detective," the voice continued smugly. "Don't you want to know where to find what's left of your partner?"

   Starsky's grip tightened on the phone as he attempted to control his emotions. "Quit fooling around, Patterson. Where is he?"

   "There's an abandoned industrial park off the coast highway. I think you'll find what you're looking for there." With that the line went dead.

   "Patterson? Patterson! Damn!" Starsky stared at the receiver a moment, then slammed it down and stormed out of the room.

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky had been driving for several miles before he slowed down enough to think about what he was doing. After Patterson had hung up, Starsky hadn't paused as he raced out of the precinct and into his car, tearing out of the parking lot at breakneck speed. His only thoughts had been centered on getting to the location Patterson had mentioned. It was the thought of what he might find there that finally slowed his headlong rush. Hutch. Hutch's....

   Starsky blinked rapidly, his hands clenching on the steering wheel. Seeing that picture of Hutch and knowing what it must mean, had just about killed him. He wasn't sure how he would be able to handle actually seeing his best friend in that condition. But he knew he had to do it. He owed it to Hutch. Hutch had done so much for him over the years, and Starsky knew he had to do this last thing for Hutch.

~~~~~~~~~

   It was late afternoon when Starsky arrived at the industrial park. He sat in his car and surveyed his surroundings. There were four buildings in the complex, all with boarded up windows and grass growing through cracks in the sidewalks. As he got out of the car, Starsky considered the idea that this might be a trap, but he knew he had to take that chance. Drawing his gun, he picked one of the buildings at random and entered through a door that hung sideways on broken hinges.

   Pausing to accustom his eyes to the dim lighting, he found himself in a small lobby with several hallways leading away from it in different directions. He made his way down the first hallway, but found nothing but empty rooms. As he crossed the lobby toward the second hallway, his foot nudged something on the floor. Glancing down, he suddenly froze and bent to pick up the small leather folder. He stared at it, slowly reaching with a shaking hand as he opened it to reveal what he knew would be there. Hutch's badge.

   So intent was he on his discovery that he didn't hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late. He half turned just as a heavy object came crashing down on the back of his head, sending him into blackness, his gun and Hutch's badge skidding across the floor as he fell.

~~~~~~~~

   When he regained consciousness, Starsky found himself sitting on the floor in one of the empty rooms, his hands fastened behind his back with his handcuffs around an exposed pipe in the wall. He winced as he shook his head, trying to clear it. Just then the door to the room opened and Patterson walked in.

   "Well, Detective Starsky, so nice to see you again. It's been quite awhile, hasn't it?" He spoke with the same taunting attitude he had used on the phone. In his hand he held a gun. Starsky's stomach clenched as he recognized Hutch's magnum.

   "Go to hell, Patterson," he said angrily.

   Patterson suddenly reached down, grabbing Starsky by the hair and jerking his head back. He placed the gun under Starsky's chin and brought his face to within inches of the detective's. His face was dark with anger and his voice rose. "Now, really detective. Is that any way to talk to an old friend? I think maybe you need a lesson in manners."

   He leaned back and cocked the gun, laughing as sweat broke out on Starsky's face. Then, just as suddenly, he shoved Starsky to one side, stood up, and started pacing around the room.

~~~~~~~~

   The first thing that always hit him when he woke up was the pain. It hurt to take a deep breath, and it seemed like every muscle was stiff and sore. His head started pounding as soon as he tried to move. He wondered what time it was. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness and had completely lost track of time.

   Suddenly he stopped to listen. Was that voices he heard? He shuddered as he heard Patterson's voice raised in anger. He had heard that voice too much over the days and night since he had come here, always accompanied by Patterson punching or kicking him. He wondered who Patterson was yelling at now.

~~~~~~~~~

   Starsky closed his eyes briefly, trying to still the pounding in his head, and trying to get his breathing back to normal.

   "I lost five years of my life because of you and your partner." Patterson's voice had gone cold. "Now it's time for you to pay."

   "You brought all this on yourself, Patterson", Starsky said in disgust. "It wasn't us who killed those people."

~~~~~~~~

   It was strange, but he could have sworn he heard Starsky's voice. He had been hoping to hear it for so long, that at first he thought he was imagining it. But as he listened, his heart leaped as he realized he wasn't hearing things. Starsky was actually out there. The one thing that had kept him going through all the beatings and all the time tied up so tightly he couldn't move was the thought that Starsky was looking for him; that his partner would find him.

~~~~~~~~

   Patterson was still pacing, gesturing agitatedly with the gun. "Those people deserved to die. It had to be done. And you ruined it. Everything would have been fine if it wasn't for you two."

~~~~~~~~

   He worked at the ropes holding his wrists. He had been gradually loosening them each time he regained consciousness, and now he was finally able to slip one hand out. He quickly undid the other hand and his ankles, then struggled to his feet, swaying slightly as the dizziness threatened to overwhelm him again. As the sounds of arguing grew louder, he forced himself to start moving toward the hallway, holding onto the wall for balance.

~~~~~~~~

   Part of Starsky knew it wasn't a good idea to provoke Patterson, but when Starsky looked at him, all he saw was the man who had killed his best friend, and the anger overwhelmed him. "You can't just go around killing people because you feel like it, you scum. You got exactly what you deserved." His eyes met Patterson's defiantly.

   They stared at each other for a moment, then Patterson's voice once again took on a smug tone. "And your partner got exactly what he deserved. I really enjoyed teaching him a lesson."

~~~~~~~~

   At the doorway he stopped, trying to decide which direction the voices were coming from. It sounded like they were right across the hall. He was just about to cross the hall when he paused. A drawer in a cabinet in the hallway just outside the door was open and he caught a glimpse of a gun.

   Carefully opening the drawer, he pulled out Starsky's Baretta. He couldn't believe Patterson had been so careless, but he wasn't about to question his good fortune. Gripping the gun firmly, he started across the hall, but suddenly things spun around him and he sank to his knees.

~~~~~~~~

   "You bastard!" Starsky tried to lunge at Patterson, pulling against the handcuffs.

   "Now, now, detective. What did I tell you about your temper?" Patterson aimed the gun at Starsky's head. "Your partner learned his lesson very well. And now it's your turn."

   Starsky realized he had run out of time. He closed his eyes, thinking that at least he would be with Hutch. He jumped as a single gunshot echoed in the small room.

~~~~~~~~

   It took Starsky a few moments to realize that he hadn't been shot. He opened his eyes and saw Patterson lying on the floor, the front of his shirt covered in blood. He wasn't moving. Confused, Starsky quickly glanced around the room, then froze, staring wide-eyed at the doorway.

   Hutch stood there, eyes closed, barely holding himself up against the doorframe. In his hand dangled Starsky's gun. His face was pale and sweaty under the bruising, and he was trying to catch his breath. But he was alive. Right at that moment, Starsky thought he was the most wonderful sight he had ever seen.

   Starsky could hardly speak past the lump in his throat. "Hutch?" he managed to whisper.

   Hutch slowly opened his eyes. Their gazes met and held for a moment, and Starsky felt his eyes fill with tears. "Hutch," he whispered again.

   Hutch managed to get himself across the room and knelt at Starsky's side. Starsky's eyes never left Hutch's face, as if he was afraid if he blinked that Hutch would disappear.

   "Look at this, Gordo," Hutch said weakly, still panting. "I can't even leave you alone for a few days without you getting into trouble." He managed a shaky smile as he reached into Starsky's jacket pocket to get the handcuff key. Starsky's answer was somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

   As soon as Hutch had freed him from the handcuffs, Starsky reached out, his hand trembling, to gently touch Hutch's cheek. "Oh my God, Hutch." His voice was shaking as he carefully stroked the bruised face. "Are you okay?" He touched the dried blood on the side of Hutch's head. "What did he do to you?"

   "It's okay, Starsk," Hutch said, still sounding weak, but definitely Hutch. He reached out and laid his hand on Starsky's head, then slid it down to grasp Starsky's shoulder. "My head is killing me, and I'm pretty sure he broke some ribs, but I think I'll live."

   Starsky reached out and put his arms around Hutch, pulling him close. His voice was still shaking. "I thought he killed you. When I saw that picture...." He gave up trying to talk and just hugged Hutch tightly.

   Hutch returned the embrace, laying his head on Starsky's shoulder. "Starsk..."

   They sat like that for several minutes, each giving and receiving comfort. Starsky trying to reassure himself that Hutch was really there, alive, and Hutch relieved that his, and Starsky's, ordeal was over.

   After a few minutes, Starsky reluctantly pulled back, looking at Hutch with concern. "Hey, c'mon, Hutch. We've gotta get you to a doctor." He started to get up, then noticed Patterson's body lying on the floor. "Plus we'd better call somebody about him."

   Hutch looked at Patterson and grimaced. "Yeah." Starsky got to his feet, then held out his hand to Hutch.

   "I'm okay, Starsk," Hutch protested. "I just need to go home and rest. I don't need a doctor." He started to get to his feet, but staggered as another wave of dizziness hit him.

   "Hutch!" Starsky quickly jumped forward and caught his partner, gently lowering him back to the floor. Hutch leaned against Starsky and closed his eyes until the spinning feeling stopped, his hand clutching a handful of Starsky's jacket, Starsky's arm around his shoulder.

   He opened his eyes to see Starsky's worried face in front of him. He attempted a weak smile. "Well, maybe a doctor wouldn't be such a bad idea." He closed his eyes again and leaned back against his partner. Starsky held him, rubbing his back soothingly.

   "Here, Blondie," he said after a few moments, leaning Hutch back against the wall. "You just stay right here while I go make some calls." He looked carefully at Hutch. "You gonna be okay?"

   Hutch nodded. "Go ahead, Starsk. I'm not going anywhere."

   Starsky still hesitated. "Well...okay...I'll be right back." He squeezed Hutch's arm, then hurried out to the Torino, still parked outside. After calling for an ambulance for Hutch and the coroner's wagon for Patterson, he asked the dispatcher to notify Captain Dobey, then hurried back to his partner's side. Hutch was still leaning against the wall, eyes closed.

   Starsky sat down next to him, putting his arm around Hutch's shoulders. "Ambulance is on the way, buddy. How ya doin'?"

   Hutch leaned against him and sighed. "Okay...just tired."

   Starsky tightened his arm around Hutch, and pulled his partner's head onto his shoulder. "Okay, buddy. You just rest. I'm right here."

   Hutch nodded, his eyes still closed. "Mm-mm"

~~~~~~~~

   They sat like that until the ambulance pulled up, siren blaring. Starsky stayed close while the paramedics checked Hutch's vital signs and started an IV. As he was helping lift the stretcher into the ambulance, the coroner's wagon pulled up, followed by the lab team and Captain Dobey. Dobey was so relieved to see his detectives both in one piece that he didn't even yell at Starsky for going off without backup.

   The paramedics waited while Starsky briefly filled Dobey in on what had happened, then Starsky climbed in next to Hutch for the ride to the hospital. Once there, Hutch was whisked away to an examining room, while Starsky was left to fill out paperwork and pace.

   The nurse at the desk noticed him holding his head and wincing and got one of the ER doctors to examine him, over his protests. Starsky didn't care about a little headache, he just wanted to see Hutch and know that he was going to be alright.

   It turned out Starsky just had a large lump on the back of his head, but was otherwise okay. The doctor told him to take it easy for a few days, then he was finally free to go see Hutch. Starsky was reassured to find out that while Hutch had several broken ribs and a concussion, and was suffering from exhaustion and dehydration, he was going to be alright.

~~~~~~~~

   They had moved his partner into a room and he was sleeping peacefully when Starsky entered. Starsky reached over and brushed the blonde hair off Hutch's forehead, then sat down in the chair next to the bed and picked up Hutch's hand. He sat there for a long time just watching Hutch sleep, feeling overwhelming relief and thankfulness at having his best friend safe and here with him. Finally, his fatigue got the best of him, and he laid his head on the bed, still holding Hutch's hand, and was soon fast asleep.

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky's birthday party had been a rousing success. There had been plenty of food, plenty of music and dancing, and most important of all to Starsky, Hutch was out of the hospital and able to attend. As they sat relaxing on the couch after the last of the guests had left, Starsky and Hutch looked around the room at the empty plates and glasses littering Hutch's apartment.

   Hutch sighed. "I guess we'd better start cleaning this stuff up."

   Starsky looked over at his friend. Hutch's bruises were fading, but his ribs were still sore, and his eyes looked tired. He patted Hutch on the leg. "You just sit there and relax, Blondie. I'll have this cleaned up in no time."

   Hutch looked at him in surprise. "Thanks, Starsk, but you don't have to do that. It's your birthday."

   "Yeah, well, don't get used to it, Blintz. As soon as you're finished recuperating, you're gonna be back to cleaning up after yourself," Starsky said, trying to look serious.

   Hutch just grinned, and after a moment of trying to maintain his stern expression, Starsky grinned back and they both started to laugh.

   "Wait a minute, Starsk." Hutch stopped him as Starsky started to get up. "You can't start cleaning 'til you've opened all your presents." He reached behind the couch and pulled out a brightly wrapped rectangular package and laid it in Starsky's lap. "I stashed this at Huggy's a couple of weeks ago in case you decided to snoop," he said with a grin.

   A smile of delight spread across Starsky's face. "Thanks, Hutch. But you didn't have to get me a present." His grin softened. "I already got the best present I could ever ask for."

   Hutch looked curious. "Yeah? What's that?"

   Starsky looked at him, his eyes suddenly bright. "I got you back, partner," he said quietly.

   Hutch felt his own eyes sting and blinked rapidly. "I always knew you would find me, Starsk," he said, putting his hand on Starsky's shoulder.

   Starsky put his hand on top of Hutch's. "I'm just glad we were both in time, buddy," he said, thinking about how close they had come to losing everything.

   "Yeah," Hutch agreed. They looked at each other for a long moment, both feeling grateful that the other was there, safe and in one piece.

   Finally Hutch gave Starsky's shoulder another squeeze and released him. "Hey. Aren't you going to open your present?"

   Starsky's big grin was back. "Oh yeah." Hurriedly he tore into the wrapping paper with his usual enthusiasm. He pulled the last piece away and stared, speechless, at the contents of the package.

   Enclosed in a beautiful wooden frame and mounted on a blue mat, was a certificate with ornate lettering. 'Presented to Michael E. Starsky, New York City Police Academy'. Also in the frame, below the diploma, was a black and white photograph of Starsky's dad in his police uniform, and next to that, his police badge.

   Starsky looked at Hutch, stunned. "Hutch, this is...is... How did you... I mean, where did you...?"

   Hutch smiled at him. "I remember how you always said you wished you had more stuff of your dad's. And I know how proud you are that he was a cop. So I called your mom and we talked about it. She sent this stuff out here and I had it framed." Hutch put his arm around Starsky's shoulder and gave him a squeeze. "She said it was just taking up space in the attic, anyway," he said with a wink.

   Starsky smiled back, but he still looked overwhelmed. He stared at the objects in the frame, then looked back up at Hutch. "I can't believe you did this for me. Thanks, Hutch, this really means a lot." His voice shook a little.

   Hutch's smile widened, and Starsky knew he understood everything Starsky wanted to say, but couldn't put into words. "You're welcome, Starsk," Hutch said, his hand still on Starsky's shoulder. "Happy birthday, buddy."

THE END