Sinjin

   After an intolerable few moments, Mickey decided that Nick's deal was the best currently on the table. He untied the detective and promised to contact Liv with a message before "losing himself in the woodwork," as he put it.

   Nick ran to a payphone near the warehouse and called his partner.

   "Where the heck have you been?"

   Don't talk, Bobby, just listen. I don't have time to explain. Starsky and Hutchinson are being held by a couple of syndicate people from New Orleans and I don't think either one is going to be alive much longer."

   "My God, Nick. How did you get mixed up in all of this?"

   "Never mind that. I need you to send some squads down here immediately. Tell Dobey if you have to, just make it quick." He proceeded to give Bobby directions to the warehouse.

   "Where are you gong to be? Are you all right, Nick?"

   But there was no response. Nick had already hung up the phone.

********

   "Diana, you look beautiful today. You honestly do."

   "You said that with a hell of a lot of conviction, Hutch," Diana said sarcastically. She nodded to the brothers again and this time Tim backed off so that Dylan could have his turn. He got down on his knees and punched Starsky in the face. Starsky saw the blow coming and tried to protect himself, but he could not bring up his hands fast enough.

   "DAMN YOU, STOP!!! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!" Hutch was again straining at the ropes. He was on the verge of tears.

   Diana watched Hutch and the look of vengeance left her face. Unconsciously she reached out her hand to touch his arm. This action was interrupted by Dr. Cooper who now stood beside her and gently pulled her arm back.

   "Diana, don't be fooled by this man. He's a great conniver. Don't forget all the pain he has caused you. He has to pay for that now."

   "That's right, Hutch," said Diana, her voice shaking. "You can stop your friend's pain anytime you want to by doing right by me. It's your fault he's suffering. It's your fault I'm suffering."

   Starsky struggled to remain conscious. He was worried about the extent of his injuries, but he was also becoming increasingly concerned with the anguished look on Hutch's face. These people seemed to know just how to get to his partner. He knew Hutch already took on more than his fair share of guilt for everything. He feared this would send his friend over the edge. He managed to raise himself on an elbow. "Don't listen to her, Hutch. You know none of this is your fault." His voice was barely above a whisper.

   "You don't care about anyone but yourself, do you, Hutch? You'd let Starsky die just to punish me, wouldn't you?"

   "What the hell are you talking about?" moaned Hutch.

   "It's so simple. All you have to do is tell me you love me like you mean it. I know you love me, Hutch. Why won't you say it?"

   "I'll tell you anything you want to hear, Diana. Just please leave my partner alone."

   "That's not good enough!"

   "Diana, I know you are hurting. I want to help you. But you've got to let me help you. Don't push me away. Don't punish Starsky."

   Diana sensed an earnestness in the words that moved her. She searched Hutch's face and then looked over to Starsky who was struggling to remain upright and winced at the sight of his battered body.

   "Please, Diana..."

   "Oh, Hutch, this is not what I wanted..."

   Russo came forward and grabbed Dr. Cooper by the arm. "Do something!"

   "Diana, remember what this man did to you. What both of these men did to you!"

   "No... You - you're trying to confuse me again!"

   "Oh, for crying out loud!" yelled Russo with exasperation. He took Hutch's magnum from under his jacket and handed it to Diana. Dr. Cooper tried to grab it, but Russo pushed him out of the way.

   "Not yet. Let me work with her. She's too unstable!"

   "Any more time under your guidance and everybody's gonna start making up and shaking hands. This needs to end now." He turned to Diana. "Sweetheart, it's time to blow the bastards away. Take care of the loser who dumped you and then put the other one out of his misery."

   Diana turned the gun over several times in her hands. She regarded it with a mixture of fascination and revulsion.

   "Diana, please. Don't do this. Let me help you."

   "SHUT UP!" she yelled at Hutch. "Everybody stop talking and let me think. I've gotta think." She looked over at the Mahoney boys. Thinking that it was a signal to pummel Starsky, Tim delivered a few vicious blows. Starsky rolled on his side and coughed a few times; then he lay deathly still. Blood began to run from his mouth.

   Tim and Dylan then turned their attention to Hutch who was all but bursting from his restraints. He was attempting to stand and they shoved him back down. "My God, Diana, stop this, please!" Hutch was completely overwhelmed by the situation. He feared that Starsky was dead and that he had been unable to prevent it.

   Diana looked frightened and could not take her eyes off of Starsky. "I didn't say to hit him again!"

   "Diana, it's them or you, babe. And any way you play this, they're going to wind up dead. SHOOT THE BASTARDS!" yelled Russo.

   Diana took a moment to look at Russo's determined face. She turned again to look at Starsky who had not moved. Then she looked at Hutch, who was completely overcome with anguish for his partner. "Oh my God," she said very quietly. And before anyone could stop her she turned the gun on herself and fired.

   "DIANA, NO!" screamed Hutch. But it was too late. Diana's body crumpled to the floor.

   At that moment Detective Quintero burst into the room with what seemed to be an army of officers. "EVERYBODY DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND GET ON THE FLOOR! MOVE IT!"

   The cops swarmed around the group. The men were quickly disarmed and arrested and hauled off to waiting squad cars. Paramedics were the next to arrive on the scene.

   "My partner, you gotta help him!" yelled Hutch.

   "Everything is under control, son." It was Dobey who was now undoing the ropes binding Hutch. As soon as he was free he bounded over to Starsky's side. He picked up a limp hand while giving the paramedics room to work.

   "You're safe now. You hear me, buddy? Everything's going to be all right. You just hang on."

   "Sir," said one of the paramedics. "You can follow us to the hospital, but we need room in the ambulance to work on your friend."

   "I want to be with him!"

   Dobey was at his side again, putting his arm around the detective. "Let them do their job, Hutch. You'll ride to the hospital with me."

   Hutch let himself be led off. He saw Diana's body one more time as it was being covered up and began shaking. Dobey was afraid Hutch was thoroughly traumatized and he quickly deposited him in the passenger side of his car while trying to assure him that everything was under control. Hutch kept mumbling about internal injuries and handling the situation all wrong. The Captain just let him ramble as they made their way to the hospital.

   When they arrived, Hutch burst into the admitting room. "I need information on my partner, Detective David Starsky!"

   "Just a minute, sir. The doctors are working on him now. You must take a seat and be patient."

   Hutch began to pace the floors with vehemence until Dobey forced him to sit down. Nearly an hour later the doctor came out to update the detective and the Captain on Starsky's condition. As soon as Hutch saw him approaching, he jumped to his feet.

   "How is he, Doctor?"

   "Well, his body has taken a terrible beating, but he will heal. He is severely dehydrated and has a couple of cracked ribs but nothing life threatening. Luckily the blood from his mouth was due to a nasty cut and not as a result of serious internal injuries."

   "Thank God," whispered Hutch.

   "We would like to keep him for a few days. He's completely exhausted and I'm sure there aren't many places that don't ache. I've giving him a strong sedative so he can get some rest. He'll be asleep for the next twelve hours at least. You should go home and get some shut-eye yourself."

   "I want to be here in case he wakes up and needs me."

   "Hutch, you heard the man," said Captain Dobey. "Pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion isn't going to help your partner."

   "I'm staying," said Hutch firmly.

   Captain Dobey just sighed. He knew better than to argue with the detective on this one.

   "Very well," said the doctor. "Follow me."

   Hutch pulled up a chair and guarded his partner through the night. He took comfort from watching Starsky's chest rise and fall slowly. Hutch shuddered to think what a few more punches and kicks would have done. He closed his eyes and offered up a silent prayer for his partner's return.

   Hutch dozed off in the early hours but was instantly awake when he heard Starsky jump up and then gasp. Hutch was immediately at his side. His partner was wide-eyed, but whether from fear or pain was hard to determine. Hutch put his arm around Starsky and gently drew him close.

   "It's okay, buddy. You're in the hospital. You're going to be fine."

   Starsky relaxed in his partner's arms. "Damn, I feel like I've been run over by a mack truck," he mumbled, feeling the effects of the sedative returning. 

   "I know, Starsk. I'm sorry," Hutch said, tears welling in his eyes.

   Starsky looked at his partner confusedly. "It ain't your fault, Hutch." He tried to continue but was suddenly so overcome with exhaustion he couldn't seem to form the words. He did manage to muster a weak smile at his partner who looked so worried.

   Hutch held Starsky for a few minutes until he was again asleep and then laid him back down on the pillow. Hutch then resumed a vigilant watch over his friend.

********

   About an hour after the arrests were made, Nick Perelli turned himself in. With Cooper and Russo in custody, he knew it was only a matter of time before they'd have enough to put him away with no chance of parole. He just didn't have the energy or the desire to run. He had sent Mickey to tell Liv that the gig was up and to deliver a key to her for a safety deposit box. Liv was to take the money stored there and leave town. Nick figured that with a dirty cop and syndicate men to deal with, the Department probably would be in no hurry to track down a prostitute. Liv accepted the key wordlessly. Once Mickey left, she allowed herself to weep.

   Detective Perelli was charged with the murder of Hoyt Broussard, but it was a few more weeks before "Streeter's" body was recovered. Simonetti and Dryden from Internal Affairs were brought in to determine the extent of Perelli's blackmailing and protection racket activities. It wasn't long before Mr. Martinez and Carlos were among the witnesses giving statements. The men from IA also gave Detective Quintero the third degree but were convinced that he knew nothing of his partner's illicit activities. Simonetti reluctantly agreed to give Hutch a few days' reprieve before questioning him to give him time to spend with Starsky in the hospital. But he was clearly anxious to conduct that part of the investigation.

********

   The week following the release of Starsky from the hospital was a blur for Hutch. He divided his time between checking on Starsky at his apartment and giving statements at the precinct. Starsky tried to convince him that he was fine and well on the mend, but Hutch ignored his protests and insisted on fixing his meals, fielding all his calls, and generally just hovering about like a mother hen. Starsky reasoned Hutch needed to do this to make his peace with the situation, so he let him.

   One night when Hutch decided to spend the night on the couch, Starsky woke up in the early morning hours in a cold sweat. In his dreams he had imagined himself back at the warehouse in the hands of a grinning Tim and Dylan Mahoney. After taking a few deep breaths and convincing himself that it was only a nightmare, Starsky wandered out to the livingroom. Hutch appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but he looked awfully drawn. Starsky figured his partner hadn't slept much since the whole ordeal with Diana so he decided to go back to bed and leave Hutch undisturbed. As he turned to go, Hutch sat up.

   "What is it, partner?"

   "Nothing. Go back to sleep. I just got up... to get a drink of water."

   "Yeah, I believe that. You look like you've seen a ghost."

   Starsky sighed. "Just a bad dream."

   "You want to talk about it?"

   "Don't worry about it, Hutch, it's over."

   "What are you trying to protect me from, Starsky?" Hutch said with his voice rising.

   "I think you've got that a little backwards, buddy. It's like you're watching me every minute. I'm not gonna break, ya know."

   "Starsky, if you are reliving that nightmare at the warehouse, I want to know about it! Don't shut me out."

   "I'm not shutting you out, Hutch, so relax. I just get the feeling you're somehow blaming yourself for this. It's not your fault. You know that, right?"

   "Yeah, pal. I know that."

   Starsky wasn't convinced that Hutch really had let himself off the hook, but he decided to let it go for now.

   "Since we're both up, how 'bout you put a pot of coffee on."

   "You got it, partner," said Hutch, heading for the kitchen. "Oh, and did I tell you? I actually got my car back from Merle's in better condition than when I left it."

   "That wouldn't take much of an effort."

   Hutch laughed, but Starsky knew the main issue had been left unresolved. He wondered what it would take for Hutch to let this one go.

********

   After another week of recuperating at home, Starsky was cleared for duty. The men from Internal Affairs lost no time calling Hutch in once they heard that Starsky was back. He was summoned several times and asked the same litany of questions. On this morning the detective was called yet again. When Hutch entered the interrogation room, Simonetti and Dryden were waiting for him. He took a seat and waited for the barrage of questions. Simonetti was quick to get started.

   "Okay, Detective Hutchinson," he began, flipping on a hand held tape recorder, "we all know why we're here, so let's get started. For the record, please state your name and rank and the nature of your relationship to the deceased, Miss Diana Harmon."

   Hutch would normally have made a flip remark to put the IA man in his place before answering, but he did not this time. "My name is Kenneth Hutchinson, Detective Sergeant, First Class. Two years ago, I had a brief relationship with Miss Diana Harmon."

   Simonetti looked at Hutch with suspicion. He was being a little too cooperative. "Could you please be more specific with regard to that relationship?"

   "What do you want to know?"

   "Did you have intimate relations with Miss Harmon?"

   "Yes."

   "Did Miss Harmon then have reason to believe that a serious commitment existed between the two of you?"

   Hutch looked over to Dryden who was looking out the window. He turned back to Simonetti but remained silent.

   "Detective Hutchinson, shall I repeat the question for you?"

   "No, I heard you." Hutch's voice was empty of impatience or sarcasm. He sighed deeply and continued. "I know what you are getting at. We did sleep together. I suppose on the basis of that fact, Diana may have taken the relationship more seriously than I did."

   "She wanted more than you did. What did you do about it?"

   "I told her we needed to slow down."

   "I seem to recall an engraved watch being thrown across the precinct and a very irate lady screaming at you in front of half the Department. How long did you let her believe there was a serious relationship going on?"

   "There was never a serious relationship gong on," Hutch raised his voice slightly but almost immediately became quiet again. "I knew she was getting overly possessive, but I had no idea..." His voice trailed off.

   Dryden spoke for the first time. "I think that's all we're gong to need for now."

   Simonetti glared at him. "No, I believe there are a few more issues to put to rest."

   Dryden stood up, ignoring his partner, and approached Hutch. "Hutchinson, that's all we need for now. You understand we may have reason to speak to you again."

   Hutch looked up at him and detected a note of sympathy on the IA agent's face. "Yeah, okay." He rose to leave.

   "Dobey will keep us informed of your movements so that we can talk again," Simonetti added as a parting remark.

   As soon as Hutch had left the room, Simonetti turned on his partner. "What the hell was that all about? You trying to make me look like an ass?"

   "Simonetti, you were coming down awfully hard on the man. I happen to think he's been through enough."

   "Oh, is that right? Am I the only one concerned about the fact that Detective Hutchinson's lady friends tend to wind up dead with his gun as the murder weapon?"

   "He was fully cleared in his ex-wife's death. You know that."

   "Yeah, I remember how broken up the man seemed to be about that too."

   "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

   "I don't know. But I do know that today Hutchinson was at a loss for his customary comebacks. He didn't even seem interested in defending himself. So I can't think why you'd want to defend him. If I recall correctly he and that smart-aleck partner of his had you handcuffed to a table."

   "And I seem to remember that 'smart-aleck' giving you a nasty left hook." Dryden laughed openly as he said it.

   "You have a pretty warped sense of humor."

   "Maybe I just interpret things a little differently. The way I see it, those two have an awful lot of faith in each other. I think that should count for something."

   "It wouldn't be the first time partners covered each other's dirty tracks."

   Dryden sighed and let the comment go unanswered. He admired Simonetti's tenacity when it came to getting to the bottom of a case. And the man had put away a fair number of dirty cops. But he was troubled by his partner's thrill of the hunt. He almost seemed disappointed when a cop was found innocent. "I'm gonna get some coffee," he said finally, heading for the door.

   "I don't suppose you'd consider getting one for me?"

   "Sure," Dryden answered.

********

   As Dryden passed the squad room on the way to the cafeteria, he nearly bumped into Hutch who had grabbed his jacket and was making a hasty bee-line for the parking lot. Hutch looked at him but said nothing and continued on his way. Starsky was right behind him.

   "Hutch!" he called after the blond. Hutch ignored his partner and headed out the door. Starsky was about to run after him when Dryden grabbed him by the arm. "I think we should talk."

   "Haven't you boys from IA done enough?" barked Starsky.

   "Detective Starsky, I know we've had our differences in the past. But I really do think you want to hear what I have to say."

   Starsky looked towards the door through which Hutch had hurried. He'd probably already hesitated too long to catch his partner. He looked back at Dryden. "Okay, let's talk."

   Dryden led Starsky into an empty office. "I think your partner's in trouble."

   "No shit. And why do you suppose that is? You and Simonetti keep grilling him over the same nonsense. How is that supposed to make him feel?"

   "I'm not going to give you the speech about procedure, but you know that's the reason. That's not what concerns me. I'd expect Detective Hutchinson to react angrily, like you're doing now. He doesn't seem angry. He doesn't register any emotions at all. It's almost like he's given up."

   "Whaddaya mean by that? You think he's guilty of something?"

   "Hey, Simonetti's a hard-ass; we all know that. That's why he's so good. Do I think he's going to find anything on Hutch? I don't think even Simonetti believes that."

   Starsky looked Dryden straight in the eye. "What are you trying to tell me?"

   "Look, he's your partner. And I'm not trying to overstep my bounds here. But I think Hutch is on the edge."

   Dryden's words caught Starsky up short. He knew Hutch was shaken by what had happened to Diana and to him, but to hear it from someone else filled him with a sense of dread. The agent's words interrupted his thoughts. "I promised my partner a cup of coffee. I'll see you later." Starsky remained in the office a few moments longer, wondering what to do next.

********

   After Hutch reached the parking lot, he immediately considered walking back in. After all, running out of the station wasn't going to prove anything. He checked his watch and realized that there was less than an hour left on his shift. The hell with it; Starsky would cover for him for forty-five minutes. He was getting out of there.

   Hutch soon found himself a few blocks from The Pits. Figuring that a couple of beers would help him unwind, he swung the LTD into the parking lot and went in the back. Hutch took a seat at the end of the bar. He saw Huggy across the room, entertaining a table of customers. He was too far out of earshot to hear the conversation, but he could tell even at that distance that Huggy was charming the group. The blond was soon approached by a waitress he didn't recognize. He ordered a beer and as an afterthought a shot of whiskey. He tried to catch Huggy's attention, but the man was fully engaged in his act and Hutch decided to forgo a conversation. He chased his beer with the shot and was amazed at how good it felt. The blond congratulated himself on knowing the cure for his mood. His partner was forever telling him to mellow out and relax. Maybe it was just a question of taking a break from non-stop worry. Hutch glanced at his watch and realized a little guiltily that it was not yet five in the evening. It was a little early to be drinking whisky. He glanced over to the table in the corner and saw Huggy leave to handle some minor catastrophe in the kitchen. He turned back to the bar and summoned the waitress. He had planned to order another beer, but they were just slowing him down. The blond switched to whisky and ordered them in quick succession. The waitress seemed a bit hesitant after he finished his fourth one, but she was new and didn't want to upset a customer who might wind up being a good tipper, so she kept them coming.

   Hutch thought about the interview with Simonetti and Dryden. He realized that they had let him off the hook far too easily. What could that mean? Had he said something to incriminate himself without realizing it? Were they questioning Starsky right now? Had he left his partner to explain his hasty departure? God, why was he always putting Starsky in compromising situations? Hutch's relaxed state was evaporating. Looking down at his watch, the detective realized an hour had passed and that he had lost count of his drinks. He looked up to spot the waitress again. It took a moment for him to focus his gaze. Once he did, he waved her over and pointed to the empty glass.

   "Okay," she said nervously, "but this is your last one. And you might want to call yourself a taxi." She poured the drink and went to move on to another customer, but Hutch grabbed her arm.

   "Leave the bottle."

   "Let go of my arm."

   Hutch realized he was being out of line. He let go immediately. "Hey, I'm sorry. Jus' leave the bottle," he slurred. "Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

   "I can't do that, sir," the waitress said loudly and looked over her shoulder.

   "Hey, I said I'm gonna pay for it." Hutch reached for the bottle again but found that Huggy was standing where the waitress had been a moment ago.

   "Hutch, how long have you been here? And where's your better half?"

   "Hug, I don't wan' no trouble. Jus' want the bottle. I'm payin'."

   "Hutch, your money ain't no good here any more tonight. But I will give you some black coffee on the house." He served up the coffee and gave the waitress Starsky's home phone number. Huggy managed to keep the blond sufficiently distracted until his partner arrived.

********

   When Starsky walked into The Pits, he exchanged glances with it very relieved proprietor and slapped his partner on the back.

   "Starsssk, whaja doin' here?"

   "I'm your ride, Blondie. Hey, Hug, can I settle up with you?"

   Huggy just waved him off. "Get him home safely; that's all I ask."

   "Hey, I can pay my own tab, ya know."

   "Of course you can. Now shut up and give me your arm." Starsky proceeded to half carry his partner out the door. It had started to rain and it was with some difficulty that Starsky negotiated his partner around the major puddles and got him situated in the passenger seat of the Torino. The cold water seemed to sober Hutch up a little and he fell silent on the way home. Starsky kept glancing over at him worriedly.

   "You want to crash at my place tonight?" he ventured.

   "No, just take me home."

   When they arrived at Venice Place, Starsky ignored Hutch's protests and helped him up the flight of steps to his apartment. When they got to the top of the stairs, Hutch reached for his key and told Starsky to go home.

   "Listen, let me come in and make some coffee for you before I go."

   "Starsky, I've already made a big enough fool of myself. I think I can handle it from here."

   "Hutch, let me come in --"

   "Starsky, I said no!" Hutch immediately regretted the remark, but he didn't take it back. "Look, I'm fine, okay? Really." He gave Starsky what he hoped was a good-natured punch on the arm. "I just want to take a shower and sleep this off."

   Starsky nodded. "Okay," he said. He watched as Hutch let himself in and shut the door. Starsky stood outside the door for a few moments before deciding to return home. He knew he couldn't make Hutch talk before he was ready, but Dryden's comments were weighing heavily upon him. Why did his partner insist on carrying the burden alone?

********

   Over the next few weeks, Starsky became increasingly concerned about his partner's behavior. He didn't appear to be getting any sleep and some days he looked hung over. He seemed to be in a constant state of agitation and snapped at everyone.

   While cruising the streets in the Torino one day, Starsky took a close look at his partner. His eyes were ringed with black circles and it was clear he had lost a good deal of weight. Starsky's apprehension was increasing. He felt he needed to confront Hutch, but he hesitated because there seemed to be some fragile balance to be maintained. Once he bridged the subject, he felt there would be no turning back. Starsky felt he had to be sure. But sure of what? If he confronted Hutch about his fears, about his guilt, how could he be sure he'd have the right answers?

   The radio interrupted the Starsky's thoughts. "Zebra Three, there's a two-eleven in progress at 125 Saunders Street."

   Hutch grabbed the radio. "Zebra Three is responding." He replaced the equipment and glanced at his partner whose eyes had not left the road. They traveled the rest of the way in silence.

   When they arrived on the scene, Starsky cut the engine and coasted to a stop a few houses down the from the reported address. He took several seconds to survey the scene. The house in question was an unassuming ranch that appeared to have no activity. Starsky glanced at Hutch to verify their points of entry. He noticed that Hutch was shaking. "Hutch..." he began worriedly, but his partner cut him off.

   "Starsk, I'll take the back." He looked over to the brunet for confirmation. Starsky was looking at him questioningly.

   "Look, Starsky, I'll take the back. Are you okay with that?" There was a rising tone of annoyance in his voice.

   "Hutch, I think we should call for back-up. I've got an uneasy feeling about this one."

   "What are you talking about?"

   "I don't know, Hutch, it's just..."

   "Dammit, Starsky, we're wasting time!" Hutch got out of the car and ran towards the back of the house. Starsky ran to the front. He pressed himself against the wall to the left of the door and after mentally counting to three, he burst in.

   "Police! Freeze!" he yelled at two men who were trying to lift up a television set. One of the men surrendered immediately, dropping the set. The other, taking the full weight of the TV, threw it with all his might at Starsky and tried to run past him towards the front door.

   Hutch saw what was happening as he entered form the back. He put the first man in handcuffs as Starsky, after returning his weapon to his holster, grabbed the second suspect in his ill-timed escape attempt. Not easily admitting defeat, the second man spun around and caught Starsky on the jaw with a right hook. When Hutch saw it, he became enraged. Starsky reeled from the blow but was up again, ready to grab the assailant. Hutch beat him to it, however, and once he caught up with the man, he began to beat him without mercy.

   "HUTCH!" screamed his partner. "For God's sake, don't kill him!"

   But Hutch was beyond hearing. He seemed possessed by hatred and fear as he continued to pummel the man and scream at him.

   "You don't mess with a man's partner, turkey! YOU GOT THAT!"

   Starsky finally managed to pull Hutch off of the man. "Hutch, take it easy! What's gotten into you?"

   Hutch simply shook himself free of Starsky's hold. "I just don't like taking garbage from scum, that's all."

   Once the paperwork for the incident had been cleared back at the precinct, Starsky grabbed Hutch and hauled him into the locker room.

   "What's gong on with you?"

   "What are you talking about?"

   "I'm talking about the way you've been acting lately. About flying off the handle at people with no provocation. I'm talking about the way you show up in the morning, looking like you spent the night in some gin joint! I don't know how much longer I can cover for you, buddy. Dobey isn't blind, you know!"

   "So you've been covering for me, have you, buddy? Well, let me tell you something. I don't need your protection or your advice. And if you don't like the way I do my job, you can put in a request for another partner!"

   With that, Hutch stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind him.

********

   It was after eleven that night when Hutch rooted under the kitchen sink and located the fifth of Jack Daniels. He slid it into the pocket of his sweat jacket and headed for the door. Jogging easily with one hand at his side to keep the bottle safe, he was soon at the high school track. The stadium lights had been switched off for the night, but there was a sizable moon to illuminate the field. Hutch placed the bottle carefully under a set of bleachers and began running at a slow pace around the track. He tried desperately to empty his mind of all thoughts and simply run. Soon his footfalls fell into a steady rhythm and the blond concentrated only on keeping his legs and arms moving. There was a sharp breeze in the air, but he didn't seem to be conscious of it. The detective longed for the monotony of the track to consume him.

   Hutch did not know how much time had passed, but he slowly became aware that a light rain was falling. As he continued to run the drizzle steadily grew into a heavy rain. It wasn't much later that Hutch became sensitive to a roaring in his ears from the downpour. It was strangely comforting and he took no action to escape the torrents. The ruts in the track filled with water and the track soon became a minefield of soggy patches. Hutch continued to run. He increased his speed until he was sprinting, keeping his eyes straight ahead. As much as he tried to eradicate all images from his mind, he saw flashes of Diana before him with a gun in her hand, crumpling to the ground. He heard himself scream and remembered the sight of Starsky's battered body. Hutch pushed himself to run beyond the haunting images, but he could not outstrip them. Suddenly his foot twisted in one of the ruts and sent him sprawling to the ground. Hutch just lay on the track for a few moments, unable to move. He realized that apart from a few scrapes and bruises he was unhurt, but he just couldn't see the point of rising from where he lay panting.

   "Dammit, Hutchinson!" he cried out in pain and frustration. "Get your sorry ass up!"

   Hutch stumbled to his feet and headed towards the bleachers. He felt ashamed at himself for acting this way, but grief and exhaustion were getting the best of him and all he hungered for was numbness. Hutch nearly tripped again as he reached the bleachers. The rain was coming down in sheets and it was obscuring most of his vision. He got down on his hands and knees and after a few minutes of foraging, found the bottle of liquor and pulled it towards him. Hutch sat down on one of the slick risers and unscrewed the cap. As he brought the bottle to his lips he paused and thought about Starsky. He knew what he was doing was selfish. Starsky understood him better than he understood himself and must have known that something was seriously wrong. Hutch knew Starsky was holding back, hoping his partner would come to him when he was ready. It must have been eating him alive not to demand that Hutch share his hurt with him.

   With this thought Hutch nearly put the bottle down, but his mind raced back to Diana and his own anguished scream and without thinking further he opened the bottle and drank in greedy gulps.

********

   At about 2 A.M. Starsky reached for the phone and dialed his partner's number. Judging from his behavior over the past few weeks, Starsky felt it unlikely that he would be waking Hutch. He let the phone ring six times before returning the handset to its cradle. He lay back in bed thinking that perhaps he was overacting. A minute later he threw some clothes on and grabbed his keys.

   Starsky dashed to his car in the rain, trying his best not to get too wet. He attempted to rev up the Torino without disturbing his neighbors too much. The detective backed out of the driveway slowly, but a sense of urgency seized him as he pulled onto the main street. He decided that it was time to confront Hutch. He had never understood why it was so difficult for his best friend to come to him when he was in trouble. It somehow made Starsky feel whole to know that Hutch entrusted his life to him. But it seemed as though Hutch only readily accepted his partner's aid when it was a matter of physical danger. Hutch always resisted help when it came to his personal demons.

   Starsky coasted to a stop in front of Venice Place, grateful to have found parking so close. Hutch's wreck of a car was across the street. Starsky pulled the back of his jacket over his head to avoid getting drenched and ran to the front of the building; he jumped the stairs two at a time and reached above the door frame of Hutch's apartment for the key. He let himself in and quickly surmised that no one was there. Starsky fell into a chair and tried to think how far Hutch could get without wheels. He attempted to convince himself that his partner was not hurting as much as he believed and maybe he was just out on a date. But facing an early shift the next day and it being the middle of the week made that idea unlikely. Starsky started pacing around the apartment, not knowing where to start looking. He absentmindedly opened the closet door in the livingroom and saw Hutch's gun swinging in its holster. A shudder went through Starsky. Even if he were headed down to the local grocery store for a quart of milk, Hutch carried a weapon. Starsky reached for the phone and dialed Captain Dobey's home phone number.

********

   Hutch realized that he had built up quite a tolerance for old Jack's brew. He wasn't reaching oblivion as quickly as he would have liked. He started laughing quietly as if this were some great joke being played on him. Hutch heard the low rumbling of thunder and it seemed to be dawning on him for the first time that he was soaking wet. He shivered a bit and was aware of a chill but it somehow seemed removed from his own body. As his mind started to drift, he thought of Gillian and double dating with Starsky. There was something threatening about this memory, but he couldn't quite connect with why it was ominous. He remembered the four of them laughing over a story he'd told at the bowling alley. Hutch strained to recall what the story had been. That was the day he'd known for sure he'd found something truly special. At least that's how he remembered it. Maybe it was really the day it had all started to unravel. At what point had he stopped paying close enough attention to what was right in front of him? Somewhere along the way he'd gotten careless. And it had all fallen apart. Absorbed by his own happiness, he didn't listen to what Gillian tried to tell him. He hadn't heard her. He hadn't protected her. Just like he hadn't protected Starsky. In fact he had damned near gotten his own partner killed. When had he become so careless? He stood up and tried to walk towards an image that seemed just beyond his grasp. It was as if a tangible presence were beckoning to him and he moved towards it. "Gillian..." Unsteady on his feet, Hutch pitched and fell. The bottle smashed in his hand and blood started spurting from his forearm. Hutch was stunned for a moment but had enough sense to realize that he had to stop the bleeding. He started cursing himself for his clumsiness. Just when he was getting close to blissfully passing out, he had gone and squandered the rest of the liquor. Hutch took off his sweatshirt and wrapped it around his arm. Feeling like a fool, he willed himself to make the journey back to his apartment. It was only a couple of blocks, but it seemed to be taking forever in his alcohol-clouded state. Dimly aware that he must look like a common drunk, Hutch kept to the back streets and alleys so as not to get picked up for public intoxication. Somehow the picture of him being tossed into the back of a squad car for disturbing the peace suddenly struck Hutch as particularly funny and about a block from his apartment he slid to the ground wracked with fits of laughter. If felt so liberating to laugh and Hutch was nearly shrieking when it occurred to him that he better get a hold of himself before the cops really did haul him off. He bit down on his hand to get control. After a few minutes, the laughter subsided and was replaced with bitter sobs. The sweatshirt that he had tried to wrap around his arm had fallen and Hutch left it on the ground as he attempted to lift himself to his feet. Feeling completely defeated, Hutch struggled to cover the last block to get home.

********

   After Dobey had gotten over his initial tirade about being disturbed at an ungodly hour of the morning, Starsky was able to explain his concern about Hutch. He realized he had kept his fears about his partner to himself and he tried to fill Dobey in on Hutch's behavior over the last few weeks. Dobey decided that if Hutch did not report in for work the next morning by 8 A.M., he would issue an APB. Starsky reluctantly agreed to the plan but decided that he was going to spend the intervening hours searching the streets himself.

   Starsky put on his jacket and grabbed his keys. As he opened the door to the apartment, the door to the building was opening below. His partner stumbled in and braced himself against the wall.

   "Hutch!" Starsky yelled.

   Hutch looked up unsteadily. He remembered thinking it was odd that Starsky would be standing at the top of the stairs, but before he could pursue this thought he collapsed.

   Starsky flew down the steps to the side of his unconscious partner. He grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him slightly, and then more forcefully, but there was no response. The blood from the cut on Hutch's arm was spreading profusely and Starsky ripped off his jacket and pulled off his t-shirt to bind the wound. Once it was secure, he grabbed his partner by the shoulders again.

   "Hutch, can you hear me, buddy? What have you done to yourself?"

   Hutch opened his eyes slightly. "Starsk?" he croaked.

   "Yeah, it's me. Just take it easy."

   "God, Starsky, I'm sorry. I just... it's my mind. I can't get it to turn off." Hutch tried to turn away. He felt his body wracking with sobs and he didn't want Starsky to see. He put his hand on the railing and raised himself to his feet. But as he tried to climb the first two steps, he swayed and would have fallen if Starsky had not caught him.

   Starsky guided his partner into a sitting position on the second step and then pulled him into an embrace. "Hutch, quit pushing me away and just let it out, babe." Feeling secure in Starsky's arms, Hutch let himself go and cried. Starsky rocked him gently and stroked his hair. For a few minutes neither man said anything. When Hutch had quieted a bit, Starsky suggested they make the journey upstairs. He got Hutch to his feet and slowly and carefully half dragged, half hoisted him up the stairs. He deposited Hutch on the couch and went to the bathroom to get supplies for treating the gash on his partner's arm properly. When he returned, Hutch was leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed. He let Starsky dress the wound. He flinched violently at one point and Starsky caught his breath.

   "Sorry, partner. I'm almost done. I really should take you to the hospital."

   "No hospitals, please, Starsk," Hutch said quietly with his eyes still closed. Starsky went to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. He then returned to the couch and surveyed his partner's face worriedly. He wondered how many times Hutch had wound up in a similar state and had dragged himself to bed and to work the next morning after spending a night trying to escape from the memories that haunted him.

   Hutch felt his partner's gaze on him and opened his eyes.

   "How did this happen?" asked Starsky motioning to Hutch's arm.

   "I slipped," answered Hutch, turning his face away.

   "Jesus Christ, Hutch!" yelled Starsky.

   Hutch jumped and turned around; Starsky's eyes were bright with tears. "It's the goddamn middle of the night and you are running around the neighborhood drunk as shit and bleeding like a stuck pig! What the hell happened?"

   Hutch looked at him helplessly. He tried to answer but seemed at a loss for where to begin.

   Starsky went to the kitchen to get the coffee and to collect himself. He returned with two steaming mugs and placed them on the table. "Look, Hutch, I didn't mean to yell at ya. But you've got me scared to death. What is going on?"

   Hutch took a deep breath and looked at the floor. "I've been running at night. Trying to wear myself out so I could sleep." He paused for a minute and then looked up at Starsky. "Tonight I tripped and fell on the damn bottle."

   "What is it you are trying to drown?

   "Diana... you. Getting people killed and nearly killed."

   "Hutch, you are blaming yourself for situations totally out of your control. If it makes you feel any better --"

   "But that's just it, Starsky," Hutch burst in, "I don't want to feel better about this."

   "You just want to get blitzed every night?"

   "No, it's just... I need a break sometimes."

   "So you'll just feel like hell during the day and sabotage your liver at night, is that it?"

   "Starsk, you don't understand."

   "No, I don't understand. I don't get why you want to torture yourself. What purpose is that going to serve?"

   "I can handle it."

   "Is that right? You are beating suspects half to death when you aren't stumbling around in a fog. You call that handling it?" Starsky got up and went to the phone.

   "Who are you calling?"

   "I need to let Dobey know you're in once piece." Starsky placed the call, giving as few details as possible. When he returned he found Hutch staring into his mug of coffee.

   "For Pete's sake, Hutch, this has got to stop. I'm not going to stand by while you drink yourself to death."

   "I appreciate you tying to take me off the hook, Starsk, but I screwed up. You can't change that."

   "Dammit, Hutch! When are you going to get it through your thick skull!"

   "Diana didn't deserve what happened to her."

   "I'm not saying she did. She had some lousy breaks."

   "Lousy breaks? She was abused by the system. I put her into that system and I didn't even know where she was. I thought she was in jail and I was content to let her rot in there. Turns out they locked her up somewhere even worse."

   "And Dr. Cooper's been brought to justice. I'm sorry Diana's dead, but she made that decision herself."

   Hutch jumped up, spilling some of his coffee. "Hell, Starsky, she was being so manipulated and brainwashed she didn't have a chance to make a decision! I had an opportunity to reach her. I could have stopped her and I didn't. She tried to tell me."

   "Hutch, you were tied to a chair and surrounded by a bunch of bad guys with guns."

   "No, no. I'm not talking about that. I mean when we were together. There were so many signs. I should have gotten her help then."

   "Is this some trip Simonetti's been laying on you? Jesus, Hutch. We do the best we can. We make the best decisions we can. You aren't psychic and you can't play God."

   "It's what's right in front of me. I don't trust myself to make the right decisions anymore."

   "Hutch, that's not --"

   "And you, getting clobbered by those damn creeps and telling me not to worry." His voice cracked. "God, I thought after the last round of blows, you were dead."

   "But Hutch, I'm not dead. I'm right here. I know what happened to Diana stinks, but there ain't nothing you could have done to prevent it! And until you believe that, you are going to be a liability to me and to yourself."

   Hutch turned away feeling ashamed. Starsky promptly grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to sit back down on the couch; he sat opposite him on the coffee table keeping a firm grip. "But there is one thing you can control, Hutch. And that's your faith in this partnership. I need you, Hutch. I need to know you've forgiven yourself for whatever sins you think you've committed... Hutch, I need you back."

   Starsky's words struck a chord in his partner. He knew he had been hurting Starsky even more with his behavior over the last few weeks. He had worried about questioning Starsky's choice of snitches. What did he think he had been communicating by shutting his own partner out? He had doubted himself a thousand times and yet this man had never wavered. Hutch realized he had to restore the faith in himself if only to do right by his partner. Starsky was the most important person in his life and if he were willing to put his trust in him, it was the least Hutch could do to honor that bond. For Starsky's sake and for his own. Right now Hutch was letting them both down. Starsky was right; it had to stop.

   Hutch looked directly into his partner's eyes and smiled. "If you'll have me, I'm back, partner," he said quietly, but with firm conviction. Starsky grinned in return. It was not until that moment that he realized how relieved he could feel. He squeezed Hutch's arms one more time before releasing his hold.

   Trying to lighten the mood Starsky ventured, "Now that you're back, how about getting some rest?"

   "What time is it?"

   "Don't worry about that. Dobey gave us both the day off."

   "Oh God, what did you tell him?"

   Starsky took Hutch's chin in his hand. "I told him we both deserved a break."

   "Thanks, buddy."

********

   During the weeks which followed Hutch continued to wrestle with his feelings of guilt, but he was learning to put events and his own responsibility for them into perspective. Starsky understood that his partner needed time alone to make his peace with the world. He was content to know that Hutch would pick up the phone when he needed reassurance on the journey.

   One Friday after work, Hutch suggested that Starsky join him at the blues club he had frequented before Starsky's kidnapping. He told him he wanted to introduce him to Dakota so his partner could hear how one ought to sing a Billie Holiday song.

   Starsky agreed, happy to see Hutch rediscovering his joy in music. When Hutch arrived at his partner's apartment to pick him up, he seemed in such good spirits Starsky decided to forgo the nasty insults that he usually reserved for the LTD. As Starsky climbed into the passenger seat, he noticed Hutch's guitar in the back.

   "You planning on joining the lady on stage?" he asked in a dubious tone. "Have you even talked to the woman yet?"

   "I sensed a chemistry between us. We both have a great love for the blues."

   "Oh, brother. This oughtta be interesting."

   When they arrived, Hutch stopped at the bar to send a club soda and a note to the woman at the piano. Then the two detectives sat down at a table and Hutch put the guitar by his chair.

   "Hutch, I don't think this is going to work."

   "Relax, Starsk, I've got it covered."

   "If you say so."

   Both men sat back and enjoyed the rest of the set. After her last song Dakota got up from the stool and nodded to the appreciative crowd.

   "Thank you. Before I go on break, I'd like to sing one more song for you with a member of the audience. Now, I don't know if he can sing or not. But anyone who professes as much love as he does for the incomparable Billie Holiday must be able to hit a few notes. So would you please welcome Mr. Ken Hutchinson."

   Hutch got up to a round of applause and nearly tripped over his guitar case. He quickly recovered and headed for the stage. Hutch pulled another stool up to Dakota's and strummed his guitar a few times to warm up.

   "Ready?" she asked.

   "Ready."

   Dakota glanced one more time at the note in her hand. "This one goes out to... Starsk. It's called 'You've Got a Friend.'"

   Together Hutch and Dakota produced a fairly impressive duet.

   Winter, spring, summer, or fall
   Now, all you got to do is call
   And I'll be there, yes I will
   You've got a friend.

   Starsky was somewhat embarrassed but immensely flattered. When the song was finished he clapped enthusiastically and whistled. Now it was Hutch's turn to be embarrassed. Hutch invited Dakota over to the table and introduced her to Starsky. Starsky was grinning from ear to ear. He kissed her hand.

   "That was beautiful."

   "Why, thank you."

   "Hey, what about me, buddy?"

   "Yeah, you were okay too."

   Dakota laughed.

   "Gee, thanks," said Hutch.

   Dakota then excused herself so she could greet a few other patrons before her second set.

   "Okay, so you proved me wrong."

   "Hutch laughed. "Well, what can I say?"

   "Hey."

   "Yeah?" asked Hutch.

   "Thanks for the song. It meant a lot."

   "Sure, Gordo." And then more seriously, "I know I've acted like a jerk. I just couldn't handle not being there for you. I want you to know how important you are to me."

   "You've always been there for me, Hutch. But it's a two-way street. I need to be there for you too."

   "I hear you."

   Starsky smiled and nodded.

   At that moment Dakota returned with a few scraps of paper in her hand.

   "I see others have followed my lead in presenting you with requests," said Hutch.

   "Well, it seems my loyal following wants you to do another song."

   "You're kidding."

   "No, I'm not. We're going to sing some of Billie's material and see what stuff you're really made of."

   Before he could protest, she had pulled him out of his seat and they were headed for the stage. "Break a leg," called Starsky after them as he began clapping wildly to announce their arrival.

   Hutch just rolled his eyes, but he couldn't remember a time when he had felt happier.

THE END

Songs:

"61 Highway"
Written by: Fred McDowell

"Mama Don't Allow"
Written by: Fred McDowell

"Black Night"
Written by: Jessie Robinson

"That's Life I Guess"
Written by: Lewis/DeRose

"1927 Kansas City"
Written by: Mike Reilly

"I Can't Give You Anything But Love"
Written by: Fields/McHugh

"You've Got a Friend"
Written by: James Taylor