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Soho

PART THREE

   Starsky turned off the main overhead light to the room, leaving on only the small, dim nightlight mounted on the wall, over the bed.

   He sat at Hutch's bedside, lowered the rail, took his friend's hand and held it in his own two. He stared down at his partner for a long while thinking about how he almost lost the best friend he had ever had. Starsky found himself unable to go home for some desperately needed rest. As absurd as it sounded, he felt that if he were to leave, Hutch would disappear again.

   He was startled back to his surroundings when the hand he was holding softly squeezed back. He looked down at Hutch who was looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

   Starsky grinned, then softly spoke. "Hey pal, welcome back. How's the leg?"

   Hutch took a deep breath. The lingering effects of the anesthesia left him with just enough strength to whisper.

   "Better. How's your head?"

   "Oh that?" Starsky rubbed the small knot on the back of his head. "You know how rock hard it is. It can really take a good knock. I'll be fine."

   "Starsk."

   "Yeah, pal."

   "What's bugging you?"

   Starsky quickly looked away then back down at his friend. "Bugging me?"

   "Something's on your mind, I can tell."

   "You just take care of yourself. I'll be okay. Why don't you try to go back to sleep? I'll sit with you for a while." Starsky smoothed the blankets around his partner's shoulders.

   "Can't. Not until you tell me what's bothering you."

   Starsky took a deep breath and smiled. "Hutch, I don't know how you can read my mind even when you're only half conscious."

   "I've known you too long not to. Now give."

   Starsky took another deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay, nothing is really wrong. I've just been doing a bit of soul searching, that's all."

   "About what?" Hutch was becoming more alert now.

   Starsky looked down at his hands and the hand he was holding.

   "I don't know what to say, partner. I mean, when you disappeared the way you did, it was so hard to think of what might have happened to you. I felt so sick, I didn't know what day of the week or time of day it was. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think straight. All I could think of was my partner is God-knows-where, by himself, in trouble and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I had no idea how badly you were hurt, but I did know that, for whatever reason, you were unable to call me, unable to come home."

   Starsky felt himself choking up and took a moment to compose himself. He kept his eyes down at his hands.

   "I felt so helpless. There was this horribly sick feeling in my gut that I just couldn't shake. I knew it wouldn't go away until I found you. That was the worst feeling I ever felt in my life. Then Huggy told me there was a contract hit out on a cop that may have already gone down. I just went to my car and cried like a baby, praying to God it wasn't true. The thought of you being dead was too much to bear. The only time I ever felt as helpless was when Forrest and his goons grabbed you. All I wanted was my partner back, and didn't know if it was ever going to happen."

   Starsky felt the tears stinging his own eyes. Hutch softly squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture but still avoided eye contact.

   "Hutch, you're my strength in life. You know, I never told you this before, but you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Better than becoming a cop, better than finding that Torino of mine. Until we met, I never knew true friendship. The so-called friends I had growing up in New York were not friends. I could never count on them like I can with you. If they did me any favors, they never let me forget it. I would be owing them for years, so I could never really ask for any. I could never be myself, or express my feelings with any one of them like I can with you without being made to feel like some sort of weakling. I would've been targeted as some sort of fairy in Hell's Kitchen and probably jumped by every gorilla in that neighborhood. Hutch, you give so much of yourself to me and never ask for a thing in return. Sometimes I wonder what I've done to deserve you."

   Starsky cracked a small smile. "Remember when we first started hanging around each other, and you dragged me to see that weird movie 'Love Story' and I wound up crying my eyes out? Most guys would've laughed and ridiculed me about it for the rest of my life. You just put your arm around me until I got it together again. You did that right in the middle of the theater and didn't care what other people thought about it. I think everyone around us must've thought you were my boyfriend or something."

   Hutch chuckled softly at the memory of that day.

   "It was just a dumb movie, but it showed me I didn't have to put up such a tough front with you like I always had to do with other guys. I could be myself around you. That meant more to me than you'll ever know. God, I can't even be myself around my own brother, Nicky. I got to put on this damn macho front all the time." Starsky finally looked up into Hutch's eyes.

    "Hutch, you know you have a long road ahead of you. It's not going to be easy. Even now, you're confined to this bed for the next few days. I don't want you to worry, I'm gonna stay right here the whole time and take care of everything for you. You hear me, buddy?"

   Hutch took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he tried to regain control over his emotions. "Thank you, Starsky." He paused to take another deep breath before continuing. "You mean the world to me, too. More than you'll ever know. But I don't want you to have to stick around here all the time just for me. Go home and get some rest."

   Starsky felt the lump in his throat growing. He adjusted his grip on Hutch's hand. Starsky hated not being able to keep his emotions in check, but it seemed the events of the last few days were finally taking a toll on his own emotions.

   "Hutch, I can't leave you here. What if you need something? What if something happens? I need to be here with you, just in case."

   Hutch's eyes narrowed as he looked up at his partner who was teetering on the edge of breaking down completely. "Starsky, please don't cry. I'm going to be okay...really." He grasped Starsky's hand more firmly and pulled him a little closer to him. He spoke in a stronger but gentle voice. "Starsky, I'm not going to disappear this time. I'll be right here when you come back. I promise."

   Hutch relaxed his grip on Starsky's hand and smiled. "Besides, if you stay around here, who's going to smuggle in my breakfast?"

   That last comment finally produced a smile from Starsky. He sniffed a few times, and wiped his face with a few tissues he'd retrieved from the Kleenex box on the night stand. He cleared his throat. "Leave it to you to read me like a book." He reached out and put his hand on the side of Hutch's head and ran his fingers through his hair. "What am I going to do with you, Hutch?"

   "Buy me breakfast so I won't get sick eating the hospital crap."

   Starsky let out a laugh, and Hutch smiled back at him.

   "Starsky, go home and get some sleep. If you attempt to sleep in that chair tonight, you're not going to have much in a way of a back by the morning. I'll be all right, really."

   "Are you trying to get rid of me?" Starsky kidded.

   "I'm just trying to get you to stop worrying so much. Besides, since I'm cooped up here, I need you to do a few things for me."

   "Name it."

   Hutch closed his eyes and yawned. "I need you to water the plants."

   "Hutch, how will I know who needs what?"

   "The care instructions for each plant are written down in a notebook on a shelf by the door of the greenhouse on left as you walk in. The name of each plant is written on a plastic tag imbedded into the soil of its pot."

   "Okay, consider it done." Starsky began to rise up to leave until Hutch began speaking again causing him to sit back down.

   "Can you also bring a few of my movie magazines? I'm gonna be cooped up in here for a while. I need something to pass the time. The new issues are supposed to be on the newsstand tomorrow."

   "Okay, you got it pal, I'll bring 'em," Starsky said as he started to rise up again only to sit down when Hutch continued to speak.

   "Oh, and my shaving kit. The last time they tried to shave me, they nearly cut my throat. I'd rather do it myself, so don't forget my hand mirror as well."

   "Magazines, shaving kit and hand mirror. Gotcha." Once again, Starsky began to rise up from the chair when Hutch spoke again.

   "Starsk, can you bring my radio? There's nothing but boring soaps on TV during the afternoons."

   "Shaving kit, mirror, movie magazines and radio. Got it."

   "Starsky, you are going to bring breakfast, right? I can't eat what they serve in here, it's disgusting."

   "Hutch, why don't I just hire a couple of big guys, and we can just move your entire apartment in here?"

   Hutch laughed and said in a very drowsy voice, "I was being that bad, huh?"

   Starsky smiled. "Nah, not at all. I'll get all that stuff for you, buddy. You just rest some more. I'll be back in the morning. Okay?"

   He looked down at Hutch and waited for a response, but by this time, he was sound asleep again.

   Starsky sat for a few minutes watching over him. He straightened out the blankets, then pulled them up to Hutch's shoulders. He started for the door when it swung open. Karen, the orthopedic technologist, walked in carrying an armload of dressing.

    She smiled at him. "Oh, Dave, you're still here. Will you be spending the night?"

   "Oh no, I was just leaving. Are you going to...you know, change the dressing again?"

   "Yep, the last time before I leave for the night. Then the resident will have to do this himself until the daytime orthopedic tech comes in at 06:30," Karen explained as she very delicately began to dismantle the traction apparatus before taking down the dressing. Hutch never woke or moved the entire time. His brief encounter with consciousness had exhausted him too much.

   Starsky took one look at what she was doing and started walking towards the door in a hurry. "Uh...good night, Karen. See you tomorrow. Okay?"

   "Okay, see you."

   Starsky exited the room and started for his car.

   **********************

   Starsky made his way home and collapsed into bed only to be back up by 6 a.m.

   The only time Starsky had ever awoken this early was usually at Hutch's strong insistence. This included: turning on the stereo, ripping the covers clean off , opening the curtains so the bright sunlight beamed down into Starsky's eyes, and on cooler mornings, Hutch would open the windows wide, letting the room's suddenly cool temperature take its toll on his slumbering partner. Eventually, Starsky would reluctantly decide it was easier to just get up than to try and hold out for more sleep. Of course, Hutch would have dirty looks and a few colorful words tossed his way for a few minutes following.

   Today, Starsky was motivated by another agenda: to take care of his partner's needs.

   First, it was off to Hutch's apartment to begin the chore of watering each plant individually. It took him almost 2 hours, since he had to look up each plant's water allotment in Hutch's notebook. Starsky had witnessed Hutch do it all within 30 minutes on many occasions.

   Afterwards, Starsky gathered Hutch's requested items into a small gym bag, and then called Huggy to put in an order for Hutch's breakfast.

   After going to the bank, he went to see Stretch and paid him for the car. Stretch promised it would be towed to Merle's that morning.

   On his way to Huggy's, Starsky stopped at the newspaper stand to pick up the new issues of Hutch's movie magazines, the daily newspaper, and as a second thought, a Hustler magazine. He shoved it in the bag the newsstand attendant provided. This would be a special surprise for his partner, he thought with a grin. After paying for his purchase, he headed over to Huggy's to pick up Hutch's breakfast.

   Huggy greeted him in his usual upbeat mood.

   "Well, good morning, Mr. Earlybird. Not too often I get to see you at this bewitching hour."

   "Morning, Hug. Hey I'm in kind of a hurry. Do you have that order?"

   "No problemo, mi amigo." Huggy handed Starsky the package containing his breakfast special. "I threw in breakfast for two since I doubt you slowed down enough to take care of yourself. Just be careful. There's hot coffee in the bag."

   "Hug, you're a good man. Thanks buddy."

   "Yeah, well, just tell Hutch I will personally be delivering his dinner tonight."

   "Will do, Hug. See ya later, pal."

   Starsky made his way to Hutch's room by 9:30 that morning and found Hutch still sound asleep. Hutch normally didn't sleep in this late. He was usually up before the sun.

   Starsky didn't feel too guilty waking his partner up to eat breakfast. He still wasn't satisfied with Hutch's pale, drawn look. Starsky believed the more he fed his friend, the better he'd start looking.

   Starsky sat the packages on the table. He removed the untouched breakfast tray the kitchen staff had left and set up Huggy's breakfast. He leaned down close to his partner's ear and whispered, "Time to wake up, Blondie."

   "Hmmm," was the only response he received.

   Starsky was not deterred. "Hey Blintz, the nurse wants to stick this harpoon-sized needle in your butt, so you gotta wake up."

   This time, Hutch fought himself awake, opening his eyes and trying to blink the cobwebs out. He lifted his head off his pillow and spoke like someone with a whole lot of sleep still left in him. "Hummmmm, wha, wha needle? They're gonna do wha?" He turned his head to see Starsky stooping over staring at him and wearing a big grin.

   "I figured that would get your attention, babe."

   Hutch dropped his head back onto the pillow and let out a huge sigh of relief. "Well you sure know how to wake a person up real quick, Starsk."

   Starsky went to the foot of the bed and began cranking the head of the bed from its flat position to a more upright position.

   "Your breakfast is going to get cold if you don't eat it. Huggy made it special for you."

   Hutch looked at the set-up and although he was still a bit tired, he managed a small smile, before producing a huge yawn. Huggy certainly knew him well. His breakfast consisted of Granola cereal with skim milk, whole wheat toast with boysenberry jam, a banana, orange juice and coffee.

   Starsky eyed it not-too-pleasantly. "Boy, I sure hope Hug packed me a real breakfast."

   He unpacked his and was happy to see scrambled eggs, sausage, toast with butter, pancakes with syrup and more butter, and coffee.

   "See, Hutch, I told you Huggy likes me better." Starsky teased as he began devouring his mess.

   Hutch looked up at him from his granola, "You know some day you're going to pay for eating that junk."

   "I already did this morning. Two dollars and fifty cents, to be exact."

   Hutch just smiled and continued eating.

   After breakfast, Hutch began digging through the small gym bag Starsky had brought, and took inventory of the contents. After seeing the shaving kit, radio, and newspaper, he pulled out the bag containing the magazines and began sorting through them.

   "Hey, Starsky, I really appreciate you going through the trouble getting my-- whoa! Wait a minute! What's this?" He held up the Hustler magazine and stared at the front cover then darted his eyes towards Starsky.

   Starsky looked up sheepishly from cleaning up the breakfast cartons. "Uh, well, I thought since you're gonna be stuck in here for a few more days, you'd want to keep entertained. If anything can keep a bed-bound man entertained, it's gotta be that."

   Hutch turned back to the magazine. Up until then he had never owned or really viewed anything pornographic. His whitebread upbringing forbade it. There had been one time he and Starsky had to secretly meet Huggy, and the only safe place was an X-rated movie theater. Even then, he had felt uncomfortable and did not really watch the steamy movie playing.

   Hutch stared at the cover not knowing what to make of it. He looked like an innocent boy just entering adolescence, then he broke into a smile. It was at that moment he decided to forget what his parents told him and let his hormones take over.

   He began flipping through the pages, studying each photo closely. It took only a minute before Hutch abruptly slammed the magazine closed and shoved it under his pillow, then dropped his head back onto it and sighed. "Uh, I think I should save this one for later."

   Starsky began laughing at the sight of his flustered partner. "It got to ya, huh? Those magazines will do that to a man, buddy."

   Hutch blushed deeply and leaned back with his eyes closed, silently willing his raging hormones to calm down. He was, at that moment, very grateful for the blankets covering him.

    Starsky was enjoying himself at Hutch's expense. It was actually, the first good laugh he'd had since before Hutch's disappearance.

   "Oh, shut up, Starsk, it's not funny."

   "Only from where you're sitting it isn't, buddy."

   Without warning, the door to the room swung open and the woman entering scared the both of them.

   She was 6'4" over 300 lbs., mostly solid, and had fiery red hair tied up in a bun. She wore a nurse's uniform, and looked very, very serious. Hutch thought she could be the twin sister to Huggy's weekend bouncer, Bubba.

   Hutch was the first to speak up. "Um...uh...can I help you, miss?"

   She spoke in a no-nonsense, military-style hardy voice.

    "I'm Bertha, your nurse for today. According to your chart you're bed-ridden for the next few days. The orderly assigned to you today is out sick, so I'm here to give you a sponge bath, Mr. Hutchinson."

   Hutch's immediate reaction was to grab his blankets, pull them firmly up to his chin and slowly sink down into the bed.

   Starsky eyes widened with shock, and he tried very hard to suppress the grin threatening the corners of his mouth. He thought she was every patient's nightmare come true, and as sorry as he was that Hutch had to be here, he was grateful that today, he wasn't the patient in the bed.

   It was well known that when Hutch became nervous he stammered considerably. "Uh...no...no ma'am, I don't need one today...uh tha...that won't be uh...um.....necessary really, I was just going to shave today, tha...uh, that's it."

   "Don't argue with me, Mr. Hutchinson. You're due for your sponge bath, and I have to see that you get it. Now either you can cooperate, or we can do it the hard way. Your choice, but either way, I gotta wash you down."

   Bertha turned to Starsky. "You'll have to leave in the meantime," she stated stoutly.

   "Yes ma'am, I was on my way out anyway." He bent down to speak into Hutch's ear. "Now you be a good boy and let the nice nurse clean you up. I'll be back later." He patted Hutch on the cheek.

   Hutch grabbed Starsky's arm in desperation. "Starsk, please...please, don't go.... Don't leave me here alone with her."

   "Why? Still worked up over that magazine?"

   "Hell no, not anymore, but...but...but I don't want to have to sit here while she...."

   "Mr. Hutchinson." Bertha boomed, capturing both men's immediate attention. "If you don't let him leave, I'll have to call security in here and have your friend escorted out, then you'll be restrained until the procedure is completed."

   Hutch suddenly realized he was on the losing end of a battle. The last thing he wanted was to be tied down while Bertha bathed him. He hesitantly relaxed his tight grip on Starsky's arm and relented, but he still held that scared-to-death look.

   Starsky patted Hutch's arm. "See you later, buddy, I have a few things to do. I'll be back in a few."

   Hutch threw him a hateful glare, knowing full well he was enjoying the whole situation. Starsky just smiled and offered up his final words before leaving the room.

   "Behave yourself, Hutchinson or no dessert tonight." Then he was gone.

   Hutch looked up at Bertha and nervously smiled as she move closer to the bed.

   "Okay, Mr. Hutchinson, let's get this started."

   She grabbed the blankets and threw them off her patient. Next she reached for his gown.

   **********************

   Starsky sat in the interrogation room at Metro police station for the better half of the afternoon interviewing Jim Balford and Victor Humphries separately. Both men held firm their denial of any involvement in the attempted hit on Hutch.

   "Humphries," Starsky said angrily, "you're sitting there telling me to my face you had nothing to do with the hit on Sgt. Kenneth Hutchinson's life. That you had no knowledge of his whereabouts on the dates he was trapped down in the canyon off of Mountain road, pinned underneath his car, and that you had no involvement in the cause of him ending up there. However, not only do you have probable motive for killing my partner, but I witnessed your car at the scene of the incident and you descending into the canyon, running with a loaded and cocked Saturday night special in your hand towards where my partner lay helplessly. That gun, with your finger prints all over it, has been recovered and is in the possession of the BCPD along with your car. I have stated in an official police report and signed an affidavit stating every detail of that incident, and will testify in court under oath over it.

   "There were also several other county officials who were at the scene who witnessed you there while in custody, and they have also sworn to it. However, you are still denying your involvement in the entire incident. We have you dead to rights. You basically have no defense ,Victor. You're wasting your and our time with this. I'm gonna nail you and your soon-to-be-disbarred attorney to the wall with this and enjoy every second of your misery."

   Humphries was in the interrogation room with a new defense attorney, Peter Macky, who was just an average run-of-the-mill defense attorney, trying to make a name for himself. If he could somehow get Humphries cleared of all charges, his reputation would soar and so would his fees. A few of the better ones Humphries tried to hire had refused to touch the case after reviewing the overwhelming evidence against him, and after Humphries refused to plead guilty to lesser charges.

   "Sgt. Starsky," Peter Macky began, "we've been over this already. My client had no knowledge of Sgt. Hutchinson's disappearance or of the hired hit on him up until the day he went looking for him. It was his ex-attorney Jim Balford who contracted the hit. Once my client found out, he went out looking for your partner."

   "Since when did he suddenly find a soft spot in his heart for my partner? He tried to kill him a few days prior during a sting operation on his car theft ring. What reason would he have to want to save his life? He knew Sgt. Hutchinson was the only witness who could close him down and put him away. With my partner dead, he would walk away squeaky clean."

   "When my client found out that his then attorney put the hit out on Sgt. Hutchinson, he was afraid he would be charged in his death which is much worse then an organized car theft charge. With organized car theft he could've been walking the streets in five to seven years with good behavior. The death of a cop, well, that's a whole other ball game. My client was trying to save your partner's life, not because he was in love with him, but because he was worried about being wrongly accused of murder, like he is now. And the gun was for his own protection against Jim Balford, not for killing Sgt. Hutchinson."

   Starsky shot out of his chair, leaned over the table and stared Peter Macky right in the eye. He shouted with disgust, "What is with everyone these days? Everyone thinks I'm some sort of sucker! First some shady used car dealer, then Jim Balford, now you. You think I'm gonna buy that shit? You're nuttier than Stretch if you do.

   "Do you know what Jim Balford told me? He told me it was all your idea, Victor. He said you threatened him and his family with their lives and that he was getting ready to call us about the hit just before we found him. He tried to sell us some story about turning himself in as soon as he spoke with his lawyer. You want to know what I think? I think I need to buy a pair of boots because the shit has been piling up pretty damn high in here lately. Furthermore, I think the both of you had full knowledge of the hit and were involved in its planning and execution from the very beginning. The one thing you didn't count on was my partner surviving. So, not only are you going away for running that stolen car ring because my partner is still here to take the stand, but for the attempted murder of a police officer...and I don't think there is any room for dealing."

   Starsky walked towards the door and left the room. He told the uniformed officer standing outside to take the prisoner back to his cell. He then looked up to find Ben Stone standing at the one-way mirror...he had been watching the entire interrogation.

   "Well, what do you think, Ben?"

   "I think, for starters, we might be able to convince the judge to deny bail then take the evidence against both parties and use it to make a judge and jury so scared of them, they're sent to jail for so long that when they finally get out they will be too damn old to commit any other crimes."

   "Well, I certainly hope so. See you later, Ben." Starsky turned and headed down the hall towards the exit.

   **********************

   It was about 6 p.m. when Starsky made his way back to Hutch's hospital room. He poked his head through the partially opened door carefully looking around the room. He spotted Hutch sitting upright in his bed listening to a jazz station on his radio and negotiating the daily papers New York Times Crossword puzzle in pen, like he'd always done.

   Hutch looked up from his newspaper. "Lose something?"

   "Oh, uh, Bertha isn't in here, is she?"

   "The coast is clear. We're safe for now."

   Starsky made his way in, approaching Hutch's bed, and smirking. "So, uh, how was your day?"

   Hutch glared at him. "You mean how did my session go with big Bertha?"

   By this time Starsky's smirk had grown into a full blown grin. "Well now that you brought up the subject, how was it? Did you get your jollies off this morning?"

   "It's not funny, Starsk. She wasn't all that gentle with me...and she said she'd be back tomorrow. I may have to fight her next time."

   "Yeah? You'd only lose," Starsky said while laughing. "No offense, partner, but I think even on your best day, she'd kick your ass from one end of the hospital to the other."

   "Yeah, well, you know she found that Hustler magazine. She tried to take it away, but believe it or not, she didn't get it. I won that battle."

   "You did? Really?" Starsky remarked with surprise.

   Hutch reached behind his pillow and pulled out the now torn porn magazine and waved it at his partner. "See? Victory won, and most of the pictures survived the attack."

   "You mean you fought for that magazine? Mr. straight-and-narrow-choir-boy put up a brave battle for such smut? Hutch, I'm shocked," Starsky taunted.

   "It's that outside bad influence that flew in from New York one day."

   "Oh well, I'll have to meet this guy one day and have a talk with him," Starsky joked.

   "Good luck, buddy. Tell me when you find him. Oh, by the way, did you know Bertha is in fact Bubba's sister?"

   "Bubba's sister?! Bubba as in Huggy's weekend bouncer, Bubba?" Starsky almost screamed out in amusement.

   "Yeah, that's the one."

   "You mean to say that Bubba's baby sister gave you a sponge bath?" That was too much for Starsky and he doubled over and nearly fell on the floor from laughing so hard.

   "Oh Starsky, shut up, it's not funny at all!" Hutch grabbed his pillow and belted Starsky over the head with it.

   It took a while, but Starsky finally regained control over himself. He wiped his eyes dry and looked over at his partner who still had a weak look about him. He then became serious. "So, tell me partner, how are you doing? I can still tell you're not quite a hundred percent yet."

   Hutch leaned back and sighed before speaking. "Better...I feel myself getting stronger little by little. Dr. Ellis was by today to look at my leg."

   "Yeah? What'd he have to say?"

   "He said it was draining nicely and closed the incision partially with a few sutures. He told me if it continued to drain the way it has been, he would close it up a little more each day. Hopefully he can close it completely the day after tomorrow, then I can be taken out of this traction, casted up and finally sent home."

   "Really? That's terrific, Hutch!"

   "You're telling me."

   The door swung open and in came Huggy carrying Hutch's dinner as promised. He walked into the room and up to Hutch's bed with the usual bouncy gait he had when he was in his happy-go-lucky mood.

   He smiled at Hutch "Well, well, well. And how is my patient this evening?"

   Hutch hadn't seen his friend since before he disappeared. He was pleasantly surprised. Starsky forgot to mention Huggy would be bringing his dinner to him.

   "Huggy! Come on in, buddy. It's about time you came by to see me. Thank you for the breakfast this morning."

   "My pleasure, m'man, but that was just a warm up. What I have with me here is a true blue Hutch delight, for the one and only, from the one and only." Huggy gave Hutch one of the two packages he was carrying and handed Starsky the second.

   "Here you go, Starsky. I take it you never stopped long enough to eat, yourself."

   "Hug, you're a man after my own heart," Starsky told him with a smile.

   "Yeah, well, careful how you say that, folks may start thinking those wild things folks start thinking when suggestive words are spoken, if you get my drift."

   Both men opened the packages containing their dinners, and once again Huggy had proven to know each of the men's dietary habits very well. Hutch finally got his chef salad with thousand island dressing, and Starsky was delighted to see a 1/2 pounder greasy cheese burger decorated with just about every topping known to man. It was accompanied with a mountain of French fries staring back at him when he opened his container. Each got 2 cans of rootbeer Shasta and a huge hunk of black forest cake.

   Starsky stared at Hutch. "I hope you don't think you're not going to eat that. You need to put some more weight on, pal."

   "Don't worry partner, I'm not too worried about my diet today. All of this looks great. Thanks Hug."

   "Yea, thanks Hug." Starsky echoed through a mouthful of burger.

   "My pleasure, gentlemen." Huggy looked at the traction apparatus attached to Hutch's leg. "My goodness, Hutch, you gonna sit there and let them torture you like that? That's gotta be killing you."

   "Actually my leg hasn't felt this good since the accident."

   "Well, to each his own, I say. Well, my fine dashing duo, I have a restaurant full of patrons waiting to partake in more of Huggy's specials. Later for now, I'll be back tomorrow with another one of my delightful specials, Hutch."

   "Okay, bye Huggy, and thanks again."

   "Yeah, thanks again," Starsky echoed Hutch once again through a mouthful of fries.

   After they finished eating, Starsky took the untouched dinner tray left by the hospital dietitian and dumped the food contents down the toilet in the bathroom. He didn't want any of the staff, especially one certain nurse, thinking Hutch was not eating and something was wrong with him. Starsky stayed with Hutch the entire evening. He told him about the interrogation with Jim Balford and Victor Humphries and what Ben Stone thought of it. They played countless rounds of gin, then finished the entire New York Times crossword puzzle together. Starsky surprised Hutch by contributing quite a bit to the completion of that puzzle.

   They were watching the L.A Dodgers and the Philadelphia Phillies on the TV in Hutch's room. The television was the only thing illuminating the dark room. It was a close game and Starsky's eyes were glued to the TV. He was lounging in the visitor's chair with his feet propped up on the foot of Hutch's bed on the opposite side of the injured leg. He was so engrossed in the game that he didn't notice Hutch had fallen asleep.

   He was back at the bottom of the canyon pinned under his car. It was the dead of night. Not much of the city lights made its way down into that canyon, and the moon was hidden behind the clouds that formed in the sky.

   He'd forgotten how long he'd been down there, but he knew he had to get out soon or he would die. He begged for Starsky to find him. Footsteps were running towards the car. "Someone knows I'm here. They're coming to get me out, right? Oh please, God, let it be Starsky." As the footsteps got closer, he noticed there were two sets of feet approaching, not one. "Who were they? What did they want? Was it Starsky coming with backup? Who else would it be? It couldn't be anyone else. Right?"

   They finally approached the car and stopped, Hutch looked up to see the darkened silhouettes of two men standing over him. "Starsky? Is that you, partner? You came to get me out, right, buddy?"

   After a moment, the clouds finally gave way, sending the moonlight down over the two shadows revealing them to be Victor Humphries and Jim Balford staring down at him and laughing. They were pointing at him, taunting him, enjoying their complete power over his powerless body. Then they each reached into their sports coats and produced a revolver. "No, please, don't shoot me! Oh God, please, think about what you're doing! I'm a cop! Jim, you're a lawyer for God's sake! Lawyers don't shoot cops!" They both laughed at him as he pleaded for his life. Simultaneously, they pointed their weapons towards his head and squeezed the trigger.

   Starsky was startled out of his concentration on the game by the sounds of Hutch thrashing around and screaming. "Oh God, they're gonna kill me! Please! No! Don't shoot me! I'm a cop! You can't shoot a cop!"

   Somebody was shaking him, they were making sure he was dead. They were checking for life after sending two bullets into his brain. "They'll shoot me again if they think I'm still alive."

   "Hutch, wake up!" Starsky had Hutch by the shoulders trying to shake him from his nightmare. "Hutch, come on buddy, wake up for me. Open your eyes."

   Hutch, still asleep, tried to fight him off. "Get away from me! Please...don't...please.... Don't kill me! You can't shoot me." Starsky shook Hutch harder and raised his voice in an attempt to awaken his partner.

   "Hutch! Wake up! You're having a nightmare! You're all right, come on open your eyes, babe, open your eyes for me!"

   Hutch's eyes flew open wide. He had a tight grip on Starsky's upper arms. He was panting hard and looking wildly around the room before his eyes finally rested on his friend. His trembling body was soaking. He slowly began to realize his surroundings.

   "Hutch, you're okay. You were just having a nightmare. You're here in the hospital, you're gonna be fine, buddy. Just try to relax, babe."

   Hutch did not say anything. He just laid his head back against his pillow and continued panting.

   "Come on, Hutch, try to calm down, buddy. It's all right...you're gonna be fine."

   Hutch was doing everything he could to prevent it from happening, but despite his attempts, his eyes filled with tears and his panting grew heavier, eventually turning into sobs. It broke Starsky's heart to see him hurting. He sat on the edge of the bed, scooped Hutch up into his arms and held him tight while his friend completely broke down. "Shhh, it's okay, buddy. I'm sorry.... I didn't know it was that bad. I didn't know it'd gotten to you this badly." Starsky rubbed his back soothingly, hoping it would help Hutch to relax.

   Hutch cried for long minutes before he finally regained some control. He still trembled thinking about his nightmare and kept his tight grip around Starsky. It was too comforting to let go just yet. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and spoke with a strangled voice. "I'm sorry for putting you through this with me."

   Starsky continued rubbing his back while keeping his tight grip on his friend. "Hey, this is me, remember buddy? You don't ever have to apologize to me. That had to be some pretty bad nightmare. You want to talk about it?"

   Hutch took several deep breaths before he was able to speak. "I was back down in the canyon, pinned under the car, and Humphries and Balford found me. They each pulled a gun out and shot me in the head. I thought I was dead, Starsk. I thought they killed me. God, it was so real."

   "You're not dead, buddy. You're right here. You're going to be just fine, babe. How long has this been going on?" Hutch didn't respond. "Hutch, how long have you been having these nightmares?"

   Hutch finally pulled away from Starsky and leaned back onto the upright bed. Starsky gripped his shoulders and stared directly into his eyes, making Hutch look back into his. "Hutch?"

   He answered in a choked whisper. "Every night since."

   "Every night? You've been having these nightmares every night and this is the first you're telling me? Hutch, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

   "I just didn't want to worry you with another one of my problems. I've been having quite a few of them lately in case you haven't noticed. Besides, what can you do about them, anyway? They would have kept coming whether you knew about them or not."

   Starsky still did not like that Hutch kept things like that from him, but he did not want to argue. Perhaps they would talk about it later. "You look tired, why don't you try going back to sleep. I'll keep an eye on you for a while, make sure you don't have any more of them."

   Normally, Hutch would have insisted Starsky go home but he was too tired, so he gave in this time. "Okay."

   Within minutes, Hutch was asleep again. Starsky stayed with him a few more hours. He finished watching the ball game, then stuck around for the late night news. When it seemed Hutch would sleep peacefully for the night he got up, replaced the chair, turned off the TV and quietly left. He would be back again the next morning with his breakfast.