With sleep still lingering in his eyes and a throbbing headache pounding in his temples, Hutch got out of bed, and headed to the coffee pot on his kitchen counter. Fetching a mug, he poured himself some of the hot liquid.

Absentmindedly, he leaned against the counter slowly sipping the coffee. Hutch was pondering if going out for a run around the block would make him feel better or if he’d rather go straight to the shower.

Finally deciding to skip the run, Hutch put the empty mug in the sink and headed to the bathroom. He took a long shower, trying to get rid of his exhaustion and the edginess that of late had become his usual, invariable companion.

Hutch was reluctant to face it, but the truth was that something had changed for the worse in him. The blond one didn’t know how or when it had all begun, but he knew that at some point something had started going wrong with him. He didn’t feel his old enthusiasm for his work, his life or, and this is what bothered him the most, his friendship with Starsky.

Sure, Starsky was still his best friend, and Hutch would still put his life on the line for him, any moment, just as he would always do. But somehow, despite how much Hutch hated to admit it, he felt that he could use some time apart from the upbeat, childlike brunet.

Actually, the source of his mixed feelings could be found in the past few years. Years in which Hutch, along with Starsky, had dealt with the ugliest face of the world.

Because of his stay in Vietnam, or perhaps because of his rough upbringing in Brooklyn, Starsky had seen much more evil than Hutch could picture. But maybe because of it, the dark-haired man had been able to go through the nastier side of their job with his optimism and zest for life almost unscathed. However, Hutch hadn’t been as lucky or strong as his partner was, and he began slowly sliding downhill, finally reaching the point of becoming totally discouraged and drained of emotional strength.

The climax for that state of things arrived with Kira, the female detective he’d slept with after Starsky had stated that he was in love with her.

After those events, though Kira had left their lives for good, things had been pretty rough between the friends. They had done their best to fix the damaged trust and love they felt for each other. They did it, eventually, but then, when everything seemed to be getting back on track, the assassination attempt on Starsky by Gunther’s hit men had added a huge extra strain in their recently tested friendship.

In the months after the shooting, Hutch had been constantly by his friend’s side. He left aside his own life to help Starsky achieve what doctors had labelled an almost miraculous recovery. But all that they had gone through had been hard beyond words. In the blink of an eye, both men had to cope with challenges, fears and changes that neither of them was quite ready for. The worst one, once Starsky had recovered as much as he was going to do, had come a few weeks earlier. The review board had refused to clear him for street duty, mostly because of the damage that his lungs had sustained from the shooting. As a matter of fact, Starsky could carry on with a normal, productive life, but as the review board members’ had stated, the physical effort required to be a street cop was outside of his current capabilities.

That rough end to their hope of coming back to the streets as partners had hit both detectives very hard. At first, Starsky had felt miserable and furious with the whole world, as never before in his entire life. Soon, though, he began to bounce back, struggling to preserve his buoyant nature. On the other hand, the only feelings left for Hutch were emotional exhaustion and grief. Grief that, no matter how hard he tried to deal with it, was slowly turning into a bitter resentment against everything and everybody.

Along those long, painful months and unable to find a better way to deal with his increasing stress and his sleepless nights, Hutch had begun drinking a little more than he had ever used to do. He didn’t drink enough to get drunk, and he was perfectly able to function and help Starsky every day in any way the brunet needed, but a couple of shots of bourbon, tequila or any other hard drink had become a daily ritual before going to bed. One drink sometimes turned to two, and occasionally to three if the day had been particularly hard, or if he’d had to go through another gruelling physio with his friend, but the fiery liquid burning down his throat always made him feel just a little better. Meanwhile, Starsky; too exhausted both physically and emotionally had been unable to take in what was really going on with Hutch. And of course, the blond one hadn’t wanted to consider that the dull headache and queasy stomach he’d woke to almost every morning could just be the way his body had to warn him that he was starting to overstep a tricky line.

xxxxxxx

Feeling just as tired as when he had gotten out of bed a short while ago, the blond one stepped out of the shower. He was wrapping a towel around his waist and heading to his bedroom to get dressed when he bumped into an unexpected apparition. An apparition that had too much of the real and not nearly enough of the supernatural.

“What the?...” Hutch trailed off, startled, to gaze thoroughly, from top to toe, at the figure standing in front of him. A large red and white Easter bunny smiled from ear to ear, holding a big basket, full to the rim with coloured Easter eggs.

“You ready Blondie?” asked Starsky, temporarily turned into the biggest, most lurid Easter bunny Hutch could have pictured. He blew the limp left ear of his costume away from his eye.

“Starsky, for God’s sake! Don’t you have any sense of the ridiculous?” The blond one snapped callously. “And what I should be ready for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The kids, Hutch,” the brunet said as his smile faded. “The kids at the hospital. We’re going to visit them today, remember?”

“Oh, sure... the kids at the hospital,” Hutch lied. Actually, he had completely forgotten about the visit. It hadn’t been his idea but Starsky’s, who, coaxed by a nurse he had been dating some weeks ago, had keenly agreed to pay a visit to the pediatric wing of Bay City Central Hospital to give some Easter goodies to the little patients.

“You forgot, didn't you?” Starsky asked, placing the basket eggs onto the floor. His question was actually an statement.

“No… I… Damn! Yes, Starsky! I forgot it! I forgot completely about that stupid visit, so sue me!” The blond one burst out. He strode towards his bedroom to get dressed with Starsky in tow.

“Mind?” Hutch asked waving his hand at Starsky in a get out gesture. “Can I get a little privacy to at least get dressed?”

“What’s wrong, Hutch? What bothering you, huh?” Starsky asked, ignoring his partner’s request to be left alone. He stepped closer to him, fondly placing a felt-covered hand on Hutch’s shoulder.

“YOU, FOR GOD SAKES! You bother me!” Hutch answered harshly “Look at you, Starsky! Stuffed into that ridiculous thing and fooling around as if nothing was wrong with your life! Acting and looking like a five year kid instead of the grown man that supposedly you are!” The blond detective snickered coldly before adding more hurting words to the ones that had already passed his lips. “A five year old? No, that’s too mild a way to put how you look right now. Actually, you do look rather like a moron, a pathetic nutcase that, if you ask me, I wouldn’t feel too proud to be seen around with.”

There it was. The harm was done. Once more, Hutch had spilled onto Starsky the venom of his anger and frustration. Once more he was regretting his thoughtlessness and feeling the already familiar pang of guilt squeezing his guts.

But this time, maybe, it was too late to backtrack and amend things…

Starsky’s eyes, clouded by a mix of sadness and pent up anger, locked into his. The brunet addressed some quiet words to him.

“I know it, Hutch. I’m not as dumb as you think I am. I know better than anybody else how much I’ve lost… But, even so, wanna know something, buddy? I’m alive and for first time in months I’m feeling quite good again… Now, I’m just trying to go on; to cope with things and do my best, to not waste the second chance I got in life sitting in a corner and drowning in self-pity. I just wonder why the hell you can’t get it...why of all people, it has to be you; the person who has helped me get back my life, the one who is now making things harder and more difficult for me.”

“Starsky…I…” Hutch trailed off, too ashamed to find the right thing to say.

“No, Hutch…whatever you got to tell me, I don’t wanna hear it now.” Starsky stated, dead serious, trying to control his anger. “What I need now is some fresh air. Besides, a bunch of sick kids are waiting for some well-deserved fun. And I’m not going to let them down.”

Without giving Hutch time to react, Starsky picked the egg's basket up from the floor, and strode resolutely out of the apartment, leaving a couple of cracked chocolate eggs in his wake.

For a moment, Starsky had wanted to yell at Hutch. He had wanted to tear his living room apart, even punch his partner in the face. But Starsky didn’t do it, because he knew that Hutch was hurting. Derision and hostility were just a way for his best friend to hide a sour frustration too strong to deal with it. Actually, Starsky suspected that the emotions impelling Hutch to act the way he had been doing lately were the same frustration and distress that he had been trying to banish out of his soul with all his might.

Right after Starsky’s exit, Hutch’s first thought was to run after him. He strode towards the door just to stop midway, unable to move further as Starsky’s grim words resounded in his mind.

I just wonder why the hell you can’t get it... why, of all people, it has to be you, the person who has helped me get back my life, the one who is now making things harder and more difficult for me …

No Hutch…Whatever you got to tell me, I don’t wanna hear it now…

Starsky had stated it in no uncertain terms. At that moment, he didn’t want to hear any of Hutch’s lame apologies. Once more, his so-called best friend had hurt his feelings, and he was entitled to feel angry and to deal with that anger on his own terms and at his own pace. Hutch only could respect that.

The blond one spent his day off at his apartment, feeling alone and angry with himself, yet knowing deep inside that it was just what he deserved. Later in the evening, he, unsure of what to say, picked up the phone receiver and dialled Starsky’s number. Hutch released a relieved breath when at the third ring his friend answered the phone.

“H’llo?”

“Hi, buddy. How was your Easter Bunny performance?” Hutch asked trying to sound nonchalant.

“Oh, fine. The kids had a great time, I guess.” Starsky answered. There wasn’t any trace of resentment in his voice yet Hutch was aware of a hint of dejection tingeing his words.

“Sure… I’m sure they did…Listen Starsky.” Hutch said after a couple of seconds of hesitation. “Mind if I come over with a pizza and a six pack? We could have dinner and some chat.”

“Look, Hutch, I’m kinda beat. Today I pushed myself a little hard, ya know? Just now I was about to fix a sandwich. Later I had planned to take a shower and hit the bed.”

“You okay, Starsk?” Hutch asked, quickly shifting into protective mode.

“Yep, I’m fine, Hutch. Just a bit tired.” Starsky answered plainly.

“Listen, Starsky. I wanna…well; I just wanna apologize for how...”

“Forget it, Hutch, okay?” Starsky cut him off. “Just forget it.”

“Okay Starsk… Sleep tight. I’ll pick you for work at seven.”

“’Kay”

Next day both partners had an uneventful day, a day as ordinary as the next ones were going to be. Starsky did paperwork and interrogations while Hutch tenaciously kept dodging Dobey’s attempts to find a new partner for him. He spent most of his time doing the same kind of work Starsky did.

Meanwhile, the relationship between the friends, though not awkward, wasn’t quite as smooth as it had been in the past. Something wasn’t working, and both men were very aware of it. It was not that the affection between them was gone. What was gone was simply the happiness that in the recent years had made them enjoy every moment they spent together.

Finally, things came out into the open when one evening Starsky asked Hutch to come over to have dinner with him at his place.

xxxxxxx

“We haveta talk, Hutch.” The curled-haired detective said straightforwardly, once they had sat down on Starsky’s couch with a couple of cold beers.

“What’s wrong, Starsky?” Hutch asked. He was already sure by the tone in Starsky’s voice and the grave expression on his face that it couldn’t be anything good.

“Listen, Hutch… I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’d better do it without beating around the bush, okay?”

The only answer from Hutch was a deepening of his furrowed brow.

“I’m leaving, Blondie. In ten days I’m going back to New York.”

“SAY WHAT?” Hutch asked, bolting to his feet.

“A few weeks ago I asked for a transfer to NYPD. Today I got the approval.” Starsky explained softly, getting to his feet too.

“Oh, great, Starsky! That’s great! You asked for a transfer a few weeks ago but forgot to tell me about it until now, when you’re about to leave!”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to tell you about until getting the approval.” Starsky said soberly. “Look Hutch, I’m not going to argue with you. I know how hard my decision seems, especially at first, but believe me, I’m just doing what I think is the best for us; for me as much as for you.”

“Yeah, sure, the best for us!” Hutch snapped “And tell me, Starsky; what the hell makes you think that you’re being so damn wise, huh? What?”

“I can’t go back to the streets, Hutch. That’s a clear fact.” Starsky kept explaining in an appeasing tone. “If I don’t find another job; if I stay on the force, I’m just going to spend the rest of my working life behind a desk. That’s what I have to deal with. It’s not what you have to do. And we both know that as long as I am around, you won't move on with your own life. You won't accept a new partner and you’ll stick by my side, doing the work that you hate just as much as I do. No, Hutch. Think about it... That wouldn’t be any good for us, or for our friendship."

“Is it because of the appalling way I’ve been acting lately? Because I’ve been nothing but a fucking bastard to you and everybody else around... Are you leaving because of that?” Hutch asked, forlornly, sitting back down in the couch and staring vacantly at his feet.

“I am leaving because I care too much about you and our friendship to risk it by staying, and forcing you to hold back your life for me, Hutch. I love you too much to let that happen. I owe you my recovery and my life. You are, and you’ll be always my best friend. No, more than that. A true brother to me. None of that has changed. And by leaving now, I’m just preventing it from changing.”

“But Starsky… You…You can’t leave… This wasn’t how things were meant to be! It just doesn’t seem right.”

“Maybe right now it doesn’t seem right, Hutch. But it is. And you’ll see it eventually.”

Starsky had made his decision and Hutch knew that nothing was going to make him change his mind. It was settled. Starsky was leaving to try and start over far from him. And if he was going to be honest, Hutch knew that he couldn’t blame his best friend for it.

The next ten days passed in a rush. Starsky spent most of his free time packing up his clothes and some of his belongings to ship them to New York along with his prized Torino. Hutch knew what his friend was doing, but he was unable to gather the courage to offer him his help. Somehow the blond one felt that in helping to pack up Starsky’s stuff he was approving his decision, and now that it was too late Hutch realized that he had never wanted his friend to leave.

Starsky, perfectly aware of Hutch’s feelings, didn’t ask him for help. Instead he managed to talk Huggy into lending him a hand putting the items he wanted to take with him into cardboard boxes. Of course, the reaction of the lanky bartender when Starsky told him about his plans had been one of utter shock and disbelief.

“But, Starsky, my man, you can’t do that!” Huggy had said vehemently, stepping out from behind the bar to get closer to Starsky“You belong to this city, bro; you know it as much as I do. Things aren’t going to be the same without you around.”

“Oh, come on, Hug, cut me some slack, will ya!” Starsky retorted, feeling somehow uncomfortable under Huggy’s scrutinizing look. “I have my reasons to leave. I’ve already explained them to you and they’re good reasons, you know it.”

“Sure, good reasons,” Huggy mocked. “Good reasons, my ass! Things turn a little rough between you and Blondie and your only way of sorting things out is leaving?”

“LISTEN TO ME HUGGY!” Starsky raised his voice, slamming his palm against the bar, regardless of the other customers’ looks. “If I don’t leave, Hutch isn’t going to move on! He’s not going to accept a new partner nor try and go for the lieutenant’s exam! He’s just going to waste his career and his life because of me. And believe me; I’m not going to let that happen. Not if I can help! Got it?”

“Yeah, of course, man, I got it. Anyway… instead of giving up and retreating like a chicken why don’t you give the lieutenant’s exam a shot yourself?” Huggy asked candidly.

“No, Huggy. I really don’t think I would’ve much of a chance to pass it,” Starsky answered, sullenly.

“And let me guess, you aren’t even going to try, right?”

Nursing his beer, Starsky shook his head without looking at Huggy. “I’ve already made my decision, Huggy. Now, can we drop the matter, huh?”

Even though he knew that Starsky’s decision was the wrong one, Huggy had no other choice but to give up. He tried to coax his friend into throwing a small goodbye party at The Pits, but Starsky refused the offer, telling Huggy that he just wasn’t in the mood for parties. He would rather just say a quiet goodbye to his closest friends, like Dobey and his family, before leaving.

xxxxxxx

Finally, much sooner than Hutch had wanted, he was in the large terminal of the Bay City International Airport trying to hold his emotions at bay as he bid Starsky goodbye.

“Come visit us, Hutch. Come whenever you want. Mom will be very happy pampering and overfeeding you with lots of her terrific homemade dishes. Besides, maybe by the time you’ve come, I’ll have gotten my own apartment. You know…a full time Jewish mom can be a little too much to deal with,” Starsky joked, with his patented crooked smile.

“And what about you, Starsky? Are you going to visit me some day soon?” The blond one asked, hopefully.

“You bet, Blondie. I’ll do it as soon as Captain Melville gives me a few days off. Besides, I’ll phone you often. Every week. I want to be sure that your new partner is treating you well.”

“Starsky... Listen Starsky, why…” Hutch began to say in a final attempt to change Starsky’s mind.

“No, Hutch. I’m doing what I must do. The right thing.” Starsky stated once more before Hutch could continue speaking. “Now go back to work, let Dobey find you the best partner in the whole precinct and keep giving all the bad guys in the city hell, like ya' used to.” Starsky’s words were interrupted by the first call asking all the passengers for the flight 307 to New York to get to their boarding gate.

“Well, it’s time, I guess.” Hutch said a little uneasily, fondly smoothing a small wrinkle in the front of Starsky’s shirt.

“Yep…Gotta go, Hutch. Take good care of yourself, ya hear me?”

“Sure Starsk… I’ll do it...” Hutch couldn’t end his words before Starsky pulled him into a bone crushing yet brief embrace. Then, and without further word, the brunet turned and hurried to the boarding gate.

A few minutes later, Hutch, feeling alone and miserable, stood looking through one of the large plate-glass windows in the terminal as the plane carrying Starsky to his new life grew smaller, finally disappearing into the blue Californian skies.

Once the aircraft was out of sight, he spun on his heel and headed to the exit. Still lingering was the feeling of what had to be the last embrace from Starsky for a long time.

Just a few weeks ago Hutch had been craving some time apart from Starsky. But now that his friend was gone he just didn’t know how he was going to survive the daunting solitude that already was creeping up inside him, eager to nestle in the deepest part of his heart…

There is one defining moment in any person’s life when their perspectives change; one moment when suddenly the earth disappears from beneath their feet and they hang, precariously balanced over space, unable to go forward or back for fear of the consequences their actions might cause.

‘Ut-ch. I can’t see’.

The voice was so weak, so rasping, and yet those words were burned into Hutch’s consciousness as though they’d been shouted from the highest mountaintop. Starsky’s familiar indigo blue eyes, the windows to his partner’s soul were open and staring unblinking at the ceiling, but they were not seeing. The blankness in them seemed obscene and Hutch clutched tighter at Starsky’s hand as he bent lower over the bed.

‘I’m here Starsk. S’me Hutch’.

‘Ungh…..hurts…..Utch…..where?’

The initial panic of being left sightless seemed to have passed and been replaced by other more immediate concerns, and the relief the blond one felt was beyond measure. Thank God he didn’t need to deal with that particular problem for a moment. The coward’s way out, he knew, but he kidded himself that he didn't want to spook his partner by dwelling on that scariest of scenarios – that he was blind. He hadn’t the strength to deal with that himself now, so how would he help his friend? Not when his heart had just soared high as a lark because his friend had shown signs of life.

‘Ssh, don’t try to move Gordo. Just lie still huh? You’re in the hospital. D’ya remember?’

‘Hospital? … yeah’ the word came out as a sigh and the brunet swilled his tongue around his dry lips, the legacy of the tube that had been removed that morning. ‘Dan?’

The name took Hutch by surprise, a cold shudder gripping his spine.

‘Dan?... No, Starsk, ‘s’me, Hutch’.

Sightless eyes dipped sideways. ‘Know that, mushbrain… where’s Dan… Danny Griffith?’

Hutch staggered back, his head feeling as though it would explode. What was his partner talking about? What was going on? He’d come from Dan’s funeral to be told Starsky was in a hospital. Closure for one saga in his life, although a painful one, and now a whole new miasma of psychological pain. He giggled inside his head.

You’re going mad Hutchinson. You’re losing it big style…hearing things….this isn’t how it’s meant to be.

He looked back at the bed, seeing Starsky’s drip infested hand flapping feebly against the sheet. ‘Hu… sh? … buddy?’ he quavered in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

The flaxen haired man took a deep breath. Ok ok you can do this Hutchinson. Get a grip. What did Kelly say? One step at a time? The future’s too scary. Just one small step. Iddy biddy baby steps. Go on ya coward, hold his hand. It’s Starsk that needs the comforting…

Yeah, but I do too.

Well hold his hand then. Show him you’re still here for him…

But I don’t know if I am. What if I can’t do this? What if I’m too fucking weak and looped on pills and booze? Isn’t it better to just leave now and let him find someone else to look after him? Someone who isn’t hell-bent on his own damned destruction? …

Shuddup. Just shuddup, you’re making excuses!...

Am I?

Yes. Now get back to that bed and act like a man!

Slowly Hutch reached again for his friend’s hand and as Starsky felt the first brush of fingers, he grasped it as though his life depended on it.

‘Utch… thought you’d gone’.

‘Nah, can’t get rid of me that easy buddy’.

‘Don’t want to… Utch?’

‘Yeah buddy’.

‘Where’s Dan?’

The blond swallowed.

You can do this Hutchy, you can do this, one step at a time.

‘Dan’s dead Starsk. Remember, I was at the funeral?’

‘Dead?… yeah… no… saw ‘im’.

Don’t push this Starsky, please don’t, buddy. I’m not ready for this yet’.

‘Starsk, I saw his coffin lowered into the ground. He’s gone’.

A look of concentration swung across the bruised, battered features. ‘Don’t understand… said… not your fault. He was… there’.

‘Where? Where was he?’

The brunet let out the tiniest of snorts, then grimaced at the pain. ‘Dunno … he was just… there’.

‘You were dreaming buddy’.

‘No… this is dream … you’re not here … nightmare’.

‘This? Why’s it a nightmare Starsk? I’m here. I’m really here. Not goin’ anywhere. Feel my hand? Why d’ya think it’s a nightmare?’

‘Has t’be. Can’t cope…..if I c can’t see’.

Ok well, he was back to the real difficult bit now. No shirking away from it this time. Hutch knew he had to face it, and be some sort of support for his partner. Partner? How could they ever be partners now? He could understand Starsky recovering enough fitness eventually to run with him on the streets, to fire his gun, to maybe even chase down a perp if this was his wildest fantasy. But whoever heard of a blind cop? It just didn’t happen. His heart bled for the brave man in the bed.

‘You’re awake buddy, an’ I know it feels like a nightmare now, but let me get the doctor. Maybe this is just something he expected huh? Maybe it just gonna be short lived’. Hutch hated himself for the hollow platitudes but it was the best he could come up with and he reached above the bed and pushed the button to call a nurse.

Starsky couldn’t believe it. First that he was still alive and second that his life was completely screwed again. Well, more than screwed. He’d fought so damned hard against Gunther’s bullets, weeping with pain and frustration through the agonising physiotherapy sessions and the exercises and boredom that followed. And he knew deep down that he could probably fight again to return to some measure of fitness after the car accident. But how do you fight something that in effect doesn’t exist? Break a leg, and the bone mends, the muscle gets back to working with exercise and massage. Lose your sight and then what do you do? There was no exercise on earth that Starsky had heard about that healed sightlessness.

A life of being plunged into darkness scared him senseless. He’d always secretly been a little afraid of the dark. On the occasions he’d been taken by some flake or other and they’d blindfolded him, he’d always felt more panic than if they’d just bound and beaten him. A psychological thing. Monsters under the bed or in the wardrobe. Like when he was a kid and his Dad would check out the dark corners of his room before he could settle down for the night.

That was the only good thing about ‘Nam. That it was never truly dark. Even in the depths of that rainy, wet, leech infested jungle, there was always some light – from the stars, the moon, rockets overhead. Some flash of brightness to ease away the fear.

But now? His heart hammered in his chest as Starsky concentrated on trying to make his eyes see. He blinked again to check. Yes. His eyes were most definitely open. He stared straight ahead. He was on his back so he should be able to see a ceiling right?

OK so ceiling where are ya?

The brunet bit back the tide of panic that rushed up his body from his toes in a sick wave. He saw nothing but cloying blackness. No ceiling, no hospital room and no beautiful blond face looking down at him earnestly.

This can’t be happening,….can’t be happening. Dan didn’t say anything about this. He said there’d be pain and I was prepared for that. But this? I can’t cope with this. Don’t wanna live my life in the dark! Oh shit. Wrong decision, Davey, boy. Is it too late to change my mind? Daniel? DAAAAAANNNNNYYYYYY?

Right, fine, he’s gone. Rat leaving a sinking ship huh? Some guardian angel he turned out to be. OK let get with the programme huh? Maybe it’s like Blondie says. Maybe it’s not permanent. Just wait ‘n’ see what the Doc says.

At that precise moment, Dr Jefferson came bustling into the small room and looked from Hutch to his patient and back. He walked to the bed and put his hand on Starsky’s bare shoulder. The brunet jumped at the contact and Jefferson furrowed his eyebrows.

‘Good to see you awake David’ he said calmly, checking pulse rates and observing the slight flush over Starsky’s chest, neck and face. ‘How are you feeling?’

Starsky tried to look in the direction he thought the doctor was standing. ‘T’riffic. Doc, I can’t see’. He tried to keep the pain from his voice, but it held a plaintive quality, showing just how scared the brunet really was.

Jefferson looked over at Hutch who shrugged and nodded and then focussed on his patient. ‘OK David, lets take this one step at a time. First of all, I’m just going to check the rest of you over. Have you got a lot of pain?’

For the first time since he’s woken, the scared man thought about the rest of his body and not just his eyes. Not being able to see himself, he guessed his leg or legs were broken. He could feel that one was encased in something hard and heavy – a cast? And the other seemed to be hovering above the bed. He felt cool air on that one and suspected it was uncovered. Now that he thought about it, he did have pains in both legs, but it extended into his back too, settling somewhere around the area of his kidneys. His chest hurt too with a deep stabbing pain which radiated out and round to his back, but most of the throbbing and pains were centred around his head, hovering more towards the left hand side. And once again he felt the all too familiar pull of a surgical wound somewhere around the middle of his abdomen.

Oh jeez, Davey, why not just have a zipper put in huh? Save everyone a lot of time. You’ve really done a number on yourself this time aintcha?

He told Jefferson of his pains, rating them on a scale from one to ten and trying to keep his mounting panic from his voice.

‘OK, well that’s to be expected. You’ve broken both your legs, the right one is in traction at the moment until the surgical scar heals sufficiently for us to put it in a cast. You had a collapsed lung when you came in – one of your ribs had punctured it and I’m afraid we had to remove a little more of your small bowel, although you don’t have a bag like last time you were here. There was some internal bleeding which we managed to stop. Tell me David; were you in a lot of pain before the accident?’

Starsky wasn’t in the mood for prevarication. He wanted to cut to the quick and find out about his eyes, but he answered anyway.

‘Doc, I was shot five times. Go figure…’ Starsky paused briefly before explaining further ‘Things got a bit better with time, but the first months…they were just hell’

‘Well, I think this last surgery may make you more comfortable. We found massive adhesions through you abdominal cavity. Adhesions are internal scars, strand like fibrous tissues that form an abnormal bond between two parts of the body after trauma, through complex processes involving injured tissues and the peritoneum. For most patients they don’t cause too much trouble, but the amount of surgery you had last time meant you had far more than most. You must have been in agony’.

‘Yeah… for quite a while, I was’ Starsky agreed softly, thankful he couldn’t see the horror he knew would be etched onto Hutch’s face.

‘Well, we’ve managed to deal with the adhesions, so once you’re up and around again you should feel more comfortable. Now, let me look at your eyes’.

‘Bet ya say that to all your patients’ the brunet said to cover up his anxiety.

Jefferson bent over and took out his pen light. Gently he lifted the brunet’s right eyelid and shone the light into the deep cobalt blue eye, noting that the iris pinpointed in the bright light. He did the same with the left eye as Starsky hissed softly at the additional pain from pressure over his large cut and deep blue bruise.

At the end of a minute or so, which was interspersed with hmms and aahs, from the doctor, he straightened.

‘Well, David. At a preliminary glance, I can’t see anything untoward in your eyes, they should work, but obviously don’t. This may be temporary, but I’ll order a series of tests now that you’re awake’.

‘Doc, you said it may be temporary. How temporary? How certain are you of that? Could it be… well… Oh shit, I don’t wanna be blind!

Jefferson patted Starsky’s shoulder gently. ‘I can’t give you those answers at the moment. It may be that your sight will return later today, tomorrow, next week. I just don’t know. Try not to worry too much and I’ll get those tests scheduled and something for your pain’. He turned and left, leaving the two men alone in the room.

Hutch felt as if he was in freefall. The world around him had dissolved into a blank nothingness, his whole mind now focussed on that one word – blind. Starsky was blind. His partner couldn’t see. His hand shook as he walked softly back to the bed and reached for the brunet’s hand. Starsky jumped at the contact.

‘Hutch?... Sorry. Guess I need to get used to that now huh?’ he mumbled.

‘It’ll be temporary Starsk. You’ll see. It’ll all be fine’. Hutch reached up and ran his fingers through the chocolate curls and Starsky closed his eyes and sighed.

‘Yeah, sure it will’ he sighed. ‘Be back to normal before ya know it’ although whether he said that for Hutch’s benefit or his own, he had no idea.

Kelly came into the room a small silver tray in her hands. ‘Someone called for an armful of liquid bliss?’ she asked as she inserted the needle into the port of Starsky’s drip. ‘David, I’m giving you something for the pain. It’ll make you sleepy, okay? Just rest Hon, and we’ll see how you are when you wake up’.

The brunet closed his eyes, looking for a few moments of peace and quiet to try to process all the information and as his breathing eased, Hutch too knew that he needed his own brand of oblivion, if only so that he could come back refreshed and stronger to help his blind partner later

Chapter 10

Starsky slipped into a black sea of unconsciousness, relaxing for a while into a world where he didn’t need to make any decisions or worry about the fact that that most precious of senses, his sight, had been taken from him. It scared him beyond belief, but at the same time, he was almost accepting of it. Wasn’t that strange? To accept something so fundamentally wrong to his being? His mind rebelled against the acceptance. It was wrong. And yet he’d managed to accept not being an active street cop any longer although that had taken work. Now he was kind of consciously making the decision to accept not being able to see?

No! He couldn’t. One step too far. He’d taken in stride everything that life had thrown at him. From his Dad being killed when he was still such a young boy in New York, through being drafted into the army at 18, and being taken as a POW at 19. he’d lived trough the leech infested jungle. He’d lived through the two months of torture at the hands of the Viet Cong and he’d lived through the four months of recuperation.

He’d felt like all his birthdays had come at once when he’d hooked up with a tall, dorky, accident prone blond at the police academy, and even that early relationship hadn’t been short of incident, especially when on their third day at that hallowed establishment they’d been walking home from a night out on the town, tried to help a young girl and been held hostage by a notorious mass murderer.

And through the long years of their partnership he’d endured without complaint, the poisonings, the shootings, the loss of loved ones, the sight of his partner’s sickness ravaged body as he tried desperately to corner Thomas Calendar. And he’d said nothing. Sure he’d gotten angry at the folks around him, but he’d never lost his spirit. He’d gone abut his business as if this was all just meant to happen. Karma. Fate. Whatever it was called. He’d never really riled against it. Never complained. Always Starsky, the stoical brunet.

But this was too much.

Broken bones he could handle. Sickness he could cope with. But sightlessness? … No.

Starsky floated on the tide of morphia. He opened his eyes and found himself back on the flat plain where all this had started, the breeze still whispering through the long grass and the sun still shining from its cerulean blue sky. Perfection. Too perfect!

The brunet looked around and in the distance he saw the familiar tall dark figure. Dan was standing still, watching him, but made no effort to come and join him. Instead, Starsky waved his arm over his head and set off to meet the young cop, the stalks of grass tickling against his legs as he walked.

Dan watched him approach, a look of suspense in his eyes.

‘Hey, Danny’ Starsky said when he finally got close enough.

‘Starsky’ the younger man greeted him. ‘So you chose to see me again’.

‘Chose? Didn’t do nuthin consciously. But there’s a few questions I wouldn’t mind askin’.

‘You’re mad at me aren’t you?’ Dan asked carefully.

Starsky snorted. ‘Now why should I be mad at ya? Hell you gave me the chance to go back to Hutch didn’t ya?’

‘Yeah…sort of.’

‘Oh, but there was that one little point ya missed’.

‘Starsky, I can explain’.

‘Well; so explain away buddy. Explain to me how ya can warn me about the shitload ‘o pain I’d have from broken legs an’ ribs an’ God knows what, but ya just happened to miss mentioning that I wouldn’t be able to see. Not exactly a minor point now is it?’ Starsky snapped.

‘Its all for a purpose’.

‘Yeah? And just what “purpose” would that be, huh?’

Dan looked sad. ‘I can’t tell you’.

‘Well that’s fuckin’ convenient aint it?’

‘I’m sorry Starsky, I wish I could explain, but I can’t’.

‘What’s the point of me being allowed to choose when you don’t give me all the facts? Like missing out that one little snippet. It might have been nuthin to you, but believe me buddy, it’d have made a whole lotta difference to me’.

‘Don’t you think I didn’t know that?’

Starsky snickered. ‘This just gets better ‘n’ better. So you chose not to tell me. And why exactly did you do that Danny boy?’

‘Because it would have made a difference to you, and I needed you to decide to go back’ Danny said; his eyes downcast as he waited for the brunet to ask THE question.

‘You needed me to go back. Well, I got news for ya buddy. It’s my life we’re talkin’ about, an’ my life that’s pissed around because I can’t see. So tell me, oh forgetful one. Tell me why you wanted me to go back’.

Daniel stared into the defiant angry eyes and said simply ‘Because of Hutch’.

Xxxxxxx

Hutch watched as his partner’s eyes slowly closed and his breathing assumed the quiet regularity of sleep. He was just as relieved as Starsky that they had this intermission. A break to be able to get their heads together before they had to face the very real prospect of living with blindness. He stood quietly.

‘How long will he be out?’ he asked Kelly.

‘At least six hours. He has a lot of resting and sleeping to do. The more he sleeps, the faster he’ll heal… and you need to rest also’.

The blond smiled at her. ‘That’s just what I’m going to do. I’m gonna go home, have a shower and change and I’ll be back before he wakes up, ok?’

She tutted. ‘I mean a proper rest. You can’t do anything more here. You need to sleep too, you know’.

‘I know, but I’ll rest when I know he’s getting better. If he wakes, tell him I’ll be back’.

She nodded and Hutch headed out of the small room and back down the corridor. He’d come to the hospital with Dobey, and there were no passing black and whites, so he dialled the number over the payphone for the local cab company and stood at the entrance waiting until the yellow car came. Minutes later he got in and asked for a ride to Venice Place.

As Hutch sat back, he looked out of the window of the taxi cab. It was getting towards sunset, and the range and pink glow from the sun reflected off of the windows in the office blacks, casting everything in a rosy glow. For a second, hutch thought how beautiful it looked, and then he shuddered. Maybe Starsky would never be able to see that rosy glow again. If things didn’t make a turn for the better in the upcoming days or weeks –and Hutch didn’t foresee that as a real possibility- Starsky wouldn’t be able see the plants in Hutch’s apartment ever again, or the sunset over the ocean. He’d never be able to see the photo of Terri on his bedside table, or focus through the viewfinder of his beloved Nikon. He’d never be able to take his wonderful photographs again.

Shit!

Hutch tried to think what it would be like to be blind. For a few minutes, he rode with his eyes closed, trying to internalise the sensation of movement without being able to see it. He tried to capture the different sounds as the car sped past buildings, the dull thunder of the echo from the bricks and glass contrasting with the emptier sound as they drove across an intersection. But by the end of a couple of minutes, he felt nauseous and had to open his eyes again, relief flooding through him as his sight returned. But his partner would never have that relief, would he?

The cab drew up outside his apartment and Hutch paid the driver and got out, walking slowly up the steps to his front door. Pushing it open he went in, closing it behind him and, closing his eyes for a moment he leant back against it. Sanctuary!

He opened his eyes and looked around his untidy living room. Then his eyes rested on the bottle of Vallium pills on his coffee table.

No, not this time… This time he’d be strong and clear headed.

He danced around them keeping his distance as though they would leap into his hand unbidden and went to the bathroom, turning on the shower. He shouldered out of his jacket and shirt, tossing them into a heap on the floor by the side of his laundry basket and padded into his kitchen to the fridge. As he passed the coffee table, his hand jerked reflexively in the direction of the pill bottle. He stopped himself angrily and balled his hand into a fist.

STOP IT

Once in the kitchen he reached for a beer from the fridge and went back to the bathroom. Taking off is pants and boxers, he stood beneath the shower and let the steaming hot jet of water wash off the anaesthetic smell of the hospital. It clung to his hair and skin and he scrubbed hard with the sponge, soaping his hair and holding his breath as he ducked his head under the cascade.

The blond stayed in the shower until the water started to run cold, the comforting warmth easing away the tension form his shoulders and back as he braced his arms against the tile wall. Eventually he reached over and switched it off. Draining the last of his beer, he wrapped a towel round his hips and rubbed another briskly over his hair, finger combing the mussed dark golden mess into some sort of order.

He padded into his bedroom and emerged five minutes later clothed in clean jeans and tee shirt, his holster and gun once again hidden beneath a plaid overshirt.

He looked around.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. When Starsky was with him, there was always noise. Always laughter or some mad cap quip. Now all he had was himself and… the pills. They called to him. One more bout of oblivion. One more period when he didn’t need to think about his partner being blind. A few more hours’ block where he didn’t have to contemplate the finality of the situation. Starsky was blind…And for Hutch, it was entirely his own fault.

Trying to divert his mind from the alluring bottle of pills, he put on the radio and sat down, picking up a magazine. His eyes danced over the page and he read the same paragraph twice, three times. He closed it and threw it down, the music on the radio getting in his nerves. He switched it off, needing to be back with Starsky. Regardless of what Kelly said, there was no way he could rest if he was apart from the brunet. He stood; ready to get back to the hospital, feeling jumpy and at the same time exhausted. The blond longed to feel relaxed and back to his old self, but the months of stress and worry, coupled with the last days’ events had taken their toll.

As if drawn by a string to the bottle, he walked mechanically toward it, reaching out for the small glass bottle with a shaking hand. He withdrew it, balled his fist, and then thought better of it. With renewed strength, he reached for the bottle and unscrewed the top. He shook out his single dose, but two pills fell onto his palm. He looked at them for a moment.

What the hell? They’re only small. One more won’t make a difference. Tiny little pills.

He looked at them, his hand ready to cram them into his mouth, but the tiny voice of Hutchinson’s reason sounded way back in his consciousness. Very slowly he put them back into the bottle and screwed on the top, putting it in his pocket along with the flask of bourbon. Deep inside Hutch knew that what he was doing was wrong, wrong and plainly stupid, but even so, he couldn’t help himself. He needed a break from the overwhelming sense of guilt and distress he was feeling. At that point the blond one didn’t care if such relief came in the form of a chemical compound and a few drinks.

Getting into his car, he felt focussed, needing to be back with his partner.

Just get back to the hospital you can rest when you get there. It’s safer with Starsky… What’re ya talking about? You should be looking after him! … OK, OK, just get back there, then ya can relax.

He arrived back at the hospital building and made his way back inside and up to Starsky’s room. The brunet was still sleeping and Hutch pulled up the chair so that he could sit by his friend’s side.

He sat on the hard chair, holding on to the side of the bed for support. Now that he was back in the brunet’s presence, he could relax. He felt he deserved the quiet peace of the Vallium now and with a shaky hand he took the bottle from his pocket shaking out one, two, three white tablets. He’d denied himself so far, now he sought oblivion, just for a few hours. Hutch reached for the flask in his pocket and unscrewed the lid. He took a deep draft of the bourbon and let it blaze a fiery trail down his throat, warming his blood and calming him.

For a little while all was quietness in the room, but then, all of sudden, Hutch’s blood seemed to be too loud in his ears and his heart began hammering in his chest as though he’d just run a five mile race.

He felt sick and his head hung down as he tried to breathe deeply. But the effects of the Valium mixed with bourbon in his empty stomach were having an effect on his body now and his reactions were becoming slow and uncoordinated. He tried to raise his head to look at the brunet, but his muscles weren’t playing the game and he panicked. With his last vestiges of clear thought, Hutch realised exactly what he’d done.

Grabbing for the covers on the bed, he tried to reach out with a wobbling hand for the nurse call button, but it was hooked on the opposite side of the bed, close to Starsky’s left hand and he had no strength left to reach it. Hutch groaned once more, berating himself for the stupidity of his actions.

Great Hutchinson, you’re supposed to be looking after him and now ya go an’ kill yourself. Abso-fuckin-lutely wonderful. M’sorry Gordo. Forgive me?

As the blonde’s body fell sideways off the chair to land with a thud at the side of the bed, Daniel looked into Starsky’s eyes.

‘I couldn’t tell you because you need to be there to save Hutch. Go to him. Now. He needs you’.

And the green plain faded into the background as Starsky woke to the blackness of his blindness, and the sound of a thud on the floor of his room.

‘Hutch?’ he called, but there was no response

‘Hutch?... Buddy, answer me… Hutch!’

Starsky, feeling a cold, sudden terror grasping at his heart felt for the call button by his left hand. Repeatedly he pushed it, while feebly calling out for help; the sound insistent in his head until he heard a presence at his room door and a female voice shouting for someone to get a doctor.

Chapter 11

Starsky’s heart rate increased as he heard footsteps running towards his room, stopping, then hushed voices giving orders. He heard the rattle of instruments against metal, more hushed orders and then wheels on the tile floor.

Half way between wakefulness and sleep, the brunet really couldn’t make out what was going on. He remembered Daniel telling him to push the nurse call button and he thought he heard the young cop’s voice in his head telling him that this was the beginning and it was all up to him now.

He sorted to himself.

Oh yeah, sure. What’m I s’posed to do? Two broken legs and not a jot of sight. I’m gonna be a real big help!

He searched his mind for the last vestiges of Daniel’s presence. He wanted to question the young man more, to find out who he was supposed to help and how. He kind of assumed it would be Hutch. Although he hadn’t been able to see his friend’s face, he was so accustomed to the blonde’s voice that he knew he’d heard something there. There was a brittle quality to it. Hutch was doing his best to hide his hurt from Starsky out of, he supposed, a misguided sense of loyalty – that he shouldn’t burden his best friend with his own troubles when Starsky lay so sick in the hospital.

Daniel wasn’t there. Starsky could find no sign of him. The green plain had gone. The acres of green, wind blown grass had disappeared and all that remained was the blackness and the sounds of medical staff working over the body of his partner. He called out for the dark haired cop in his mind, wanting and needing answers, but he heard nothing. Had Daniel ever really been there? Had the young man helped him make is decision to live? Had he coloured the brunet’s judgement in order to fulfil some higher purpose? Starsky had no idea. He’d been looped on so many pain killers and sedatives that he could have dreamed that the moon was a hunk of blue cheese and a great cosmic mouse was gonna eat it, and he’d probably have believed that too.

But the final result was that Starsky had chosen to live and that it now appeared that he was going to have to put his own problems aside to help his blond friend. And once Hutch was better, he could begin to help Starsky to heal.

He made a conscious decision to make his way fully back into the world of the living and cleared his throat.

‘Hutch?’ he called; his voice still rasping and raw.

The brunet felt someone take his hand and jumped at the new sensation. God, he needed to get used to this darkness thing!

‘David, it’s Kelly’.

‘Hey Hon. Where’s Hutch? What’s goin’ on?’

‘Hutch took a little tumble. He was unconscious when we found him. Didn’t you know? You pressed the call button, otherwise we’d never have found him so quickly’.

‘I…erm….is he OK? What’s up with him?’ Starsky asked.

‘We think he’s just exhausted. There was a smell of liquor on his breath. Tell me, does he take any medication as a rule?’

The brunet snorted. ‘Other than liquidised liver and cod liver oil; all the usual freakish health food stuff, no’.

‘OK, well I know he asked for some Vallium earlier. Has he taken that before?’

‘Hutch? God no… He hates chemicals. Says they pollute his body. Why?’

‘I think he may have taken too many pills’ she said gently, ‘Combined with the booze, he’s just done too much’.

Starsky caught at the nurse’s arm, pulling her close. ‘Ya mean he tried to kill himself?’ he asked.

‘No, I don’t think so. It doesn’t look as though he’s taken so many. I think he’s just been exhausted and has tried to, shall we say, lighten his load a little. The doctor is with him now. They’re going to take him to a side room and admit him for a while, just so that they can make sure there’s nothing else to worry about’.

‘Like what?’ Starsky asked anxiously.

‘We just want to find out how many pills he took. It doesn’t look like it’s a lot. He’s responsive now, just very sleepy’ Kelly explained

‘Don’t take him away’ the injured man said desperately.

‘We’ve got to get him into a bed honey’.

‘Can’t he stay here, with me? Is there room in here?’

Kelly heard the desperation in the voice and she also remembered the look of anxiety on Hutch’s face when he’d seen his injured friend. She was touched by the bond the two seemed to share.

‘Well, you need your rest too’ she said doubtfully.

‘Hey, I’ve been asleep for an age; I just need to be with him. Please Kel? Honey, go ask

‘em if he can stay with me?’

‘Okay, David. Let me see what I can do. Be right back’ He felt her leave his bedside and heard murmured voices and then Jefferson’s distinctive voice next to him.

‘David? Do you feel you can cope if we put another bed in here for your friend? You need to get your rest and we’ll be in and out checking on Hutch’.

Starsky smiled. ‘I’ll get more rest if he’s here than if I’m worrying about him in some other place. Is he ok? Can I talk to him?’

Jefferson shook his head. ‘No, he’s still very sleepy. I don’t think he took a great many pills. Certainly not enough to warrant pumping his stomach. But I do want him to be admitted so that we can help him. I’ll have another bed brought in here, to your right, and then we’ll be getting him into bed and settled. We’ll let you know what’s going on’.

‘Thanks Doc’ Starsky said, settling back onto the bed to wait. He desperately wanted to be able to see what was going on, to check on his partner. But this time, he knew he had to lie back and let others look after Hutch for a while, until he was strong enough to get out of bed and do it for Hutch.

Starsky listened to the sounds in the room. He heard the squealing of tires on the floor as the bed was wheeled into the room. He heard his friend groan and mumble something under his breath as he presumed the medical staff picked him up from the floor and got him undressed and into bed.

Then there was an interminable wait while he heard muffled voices and the rattle of plastic wrappers being torn open. More sounds, then silence as the two were left alone. The brunet strained to hear and could just make out Hutch’s steady breathing from the other bed. It sounded relaxed and peaceful and quite close. He reached out his right hand as far as he could stretch and could just brush the edge of his partner’s bed with his fingertips.

Lying back, more comfortably now that he knew where his friend was, Starsky let his mind wander over everything he thought had happened, from Dobey’s phone call, to, his accident, his rescue, Daniel Griffith’s appearances in his dreams, and finally, Hutch’s desperation.

OK pal, how are we gonna get outa this one huh?

xxxxxxx

Five hours later, and after Kelly had been back to check on Hutch and change Starsky’s drip bags, the brunet heard the first stirrings from the bed opposite.

Hutch had been dreaming too. He’d felt spacey and fuzzy after he’d taken the pills, a fluttering feeling happening in the pit of his stomach as he realised that he’d probably done something pathetically stupid. As the room began to spin, he‘d tried to get someone’s attention, but he hadn’t had the strength to get to the door of the small room. In his desperation he tried to rouse Starsky from his sleep and had tried to stand to bend over the smaller man, but at that point the Vallium had taken its insidious hold on him and he’d felt the room dip sharply to the right. As the floor came up to meet him, Hutch’s last conscious thought was that he hoped no-one thought he was trying to end it all. Far from it. In his tortured mind, he wanted only to have sufficient rest to be able to look after Starsky, but now, in his last seconds of lucid thought, he realised booze and pills were not the answer.

The blond had also dreamed of a grassy landscape. He’d been reminded of the huge fields of his youth, working his Granddad’s farm near Duluth and he’d pulled a stalk of grass and put it contentedly between his teeth as he started to walk through the flat terrain. He was just beginning to wonder where he was going when he jumped at a tap on his shoulder. He turned and his face cracked into a wide grin.

‘Danny!’

‘Hey Hutchinson. What’re you doing here?’

Hutch looked around as if seeing the place for the first time. ‘Could ask you the same question. This is my dream. What’re you doing here?’

‘Just passing through’.

‘Uh huh?’ Hutch continued his walk, the younger man at his side.

‘I’m glad I got this chance to talk. I told Starsky to tell you that this wasn’t your fault, but I don’t think you believed him’.

‘He was delirious. I thought it was just the pain arguing with him’ Hutch said, surprised.

‘No….no it was me. I saw you hurting and I just needed to tell you. It wasn’t your fault’.

The blonde’s face fell. ‘I was supposed to watch your back. That’s what a partner’s supposed to do. Watch the other’s back. But I got sloppy and now that’s two partners I’ve killed off. I’m sorry kid, truly I am’.

‘Oh my God it’s the “Hearts and Flowers” routine! Will you give yourself a break Hutchinson? IT… WASN’T… YOUR … FAULT.’ Daniel said carefully, emphasizing each word ‘I can’t say it any plainer, Hutchinson. Besides, as far as I know, Starsky isn’t dead, is he?... Now tell me; What’re ya gonna do?’

‘Do? What do ya mean?’

‘About you and Starsky. Remember the partner ya didn’t kill off? He’s still there. He needs you and you need him. So what are ya gonna do?’

Hutch stopped walking and just stood. ‘What am I supposed to do? I’m tired; I’m a wash-up! I get my kicks with pills and bourbon. How am I gonna help him?’ Hutch ran his fingers through his flaxen locks.

‘So you’re just gonna give up?’ Daniel asked, disappointment written all over his face. ‘You’re just gonna wallow in self pity and let him stumble around in the dark, coz the great Ken Hutchinson thinks it’s all his fault! Well, I got news for ya, buddy. You aren’t the only one in this universe, ya know. We’re all in it together and each one of us impacts on the next. And right now, your behaviour is gonna impact pretty damn big style on Starsky’s life. Sure it’s a trying time, but it’ll get better’.

Hutch snorted. ‘Oh sure it will. Maybe some day he can get a Seeing Eye dog and get around on his own!

Daniel lifted his hand and struck Hutch across the cheek, a stinging slap that brought the blond up short, his hand rising to rub the sting away. The younger man looked shocked at his own actions.

‘Sorry’ he mumbled.

There was a silence for a spilt second then Hutch grinned, rubbing his cheek.

‘I guess I had that coming huh? But Jeez, this is my dream. It ain’t supposed to hurt!’

‘Well, you were getting pretty damned hung up about the whole thing. Actually, I’m not supposed to tell you any of this. I’ve interfered too much already and this’ll be the last chance I get to speak to either of you guys, but what the hell, I’ve come so far…’ Daniel trailed off.

‘Oh hey wait, you mean you get into trouble here too?… wherever here is’ Hutch said, looking around the green plain again.

‘You’d better believe it buddy! Ok, gonna go for broke here. You’ll both make it, and things will work out, so long as you both work at it. I can only give you one clue. Seek out another friend to help. He’ll have your answers’. Daniel looked over his shoulder. ‘They’re gonna come for me in a minute, and I’ll have to go. Remember Hutchinson, this was never your fault. We all make mistakes in this world. It’s how we deal with them that defines who we are. I made my mistake in that room with the girl. Now it’s up to you, to deal with your mistakes. They’re coming, I can feel them. Don’t have too long. Find your friend, let him help… and for Gods sake don’t beat yourself up. Help each other… ’

Hutch watched amazed. The young man was beginning to fade from view.

‘Don’t go Dan! I still need to talk to someone. I don’t want to lose you again!’ he shouted out, trying to reach for the young man’s arm, but his hand went clean through.

‘You don’t need me. You’ve got each other’ Daniel said, as if from a distance. ‘Tell my wife and kid I love them, talk to Starsky… and find your friend. Everything will be ok…’

And with that, Daniel winked out of existence, leaving the blond alone in the green wilderness, looking around him.

Hutch started to walk again, his mind going over what the young cop had said. Find a friend. Talk to Starsky, clean up your act and find the friend. All things that were doable, and when Hutch had a plan he was a happy blond bunny.

Slowly, he came to a new understanding with himself, a new beginning. Today was the first day of the rest of his life. Starting over. Onwards and upwards. All those euphemisms for telling himself to get off his butt and start taking life by the horns again. And slowly he began to realise that maybe this wasn’t all his fault, just as Daniel had said.

As he walked, the plain began to take on a hazy appearance and he seemed to be walking through fog. The fog got thicker and his feet seemed to be floating on insubstantial ground until that too disappeared. The fog cleared and Hutch awoke to find himself on his back in a hospital bed, drip needles in his hand and the mother of a headache.

Slowly he rolled his head on the pillow, feeling slightly nauseous as the room spun with him. But there, to his left and only an arms length away was the familiar curly haired man he knew he’d still give his life for.

‘Hey’ he mumbled thickly. ‘You awake Starsk?’

The brunet turned his head in Hutch’s direction. ‘Blondie? Good t’have ya back’.

‘Uh huh, good to be back… I got a headache’ he said.

‘No sympathy there, pal. Next time you bring in the booze, at least let me have some before you fall off the seat!’

xxxxxxx

Life outside the hospital kept moving on. At that same moment, a few miles away, in the Ninth Precinct Headquarters Captain Dobey was reading for second time the report that regarding Starsky’s car accident, the firelighter’s chief had sent his way a short while ago.

The document was customary in its form; however, there was a point that left the portly captain pretty much befuddled. In there, and among several pages of technicalities, the Firefighters Department was clearly stating that they couldn’t find a way to explain how Starsky had been able to free his badly damaged legs from under the crushed car’s dashboard, and what’s more. They could assure that without the proper tools, training and help, no one could’ve extricated the detective either. That plus the fact that the truck driver that had called for help had stated to the police that he saw no one helping Starsky, did open a big question mark.

No matter how thoroughly the Firefighters Department had worked to find logical answers. For all accounts, the fact that Starsky had been found alive a few feet away from the wrecked car instead of burnt to death and trapped in it was simply unexplainable…

Chapter 12

Hutch slept well that night for the first night since Starsky’s original stay in hospital after Gunther’s attack. During the long months of the brunet’s recuperation, he’d fought every step of the way by his partner’s side, both men always hoping against hope that Starsky would somehow regain sufficient fitness to be able to get back into the Torino at Hutch’s side. The car had been almost as much of a mess as its owner, but the men in the squad room had had a collection and wheedled sufficient work out of Merle to get the big red car back to its former glory.

When Starsky had been released that first time, the only thing bigger that drove him on, other than Hutch, had been the prospect of driving his baby again and the first day he’d gotten back behind the wheel was the first day he felt he was truly recovering.

But the brunet’s recovery had taken so much out of Hutch: more than he ever really comprehended. Each night, Starsky would slump into an exhausted sleep while Hutch would read through his reports, finalise his work and set about getting ready for the next day. He’d lived on a knife edge for so long that it began to feel like it was the norm. And when the day had arrived for Starsky to depart, he’d touched rock bottom, or at least he thought so. The real crisis though, had come with Daniel Griffith’s death. In seeing the state of shock the blond detective was when he’d been taken to the ER, the doctor in duty had prescribed him some help of the chemical variety. The Valium had provided some release to begin with, but pretty soon the effects wore off more quickly than he wanted and so he’d started to mix the drugs with alcohol and the combination of booze and the pills had become a dangerous trap

Now in the cold light of day, the blond felt exhausted, more than a little ashamed and too embarrassed to talk about the incident to anyone. But in that fact, he had little choice and when he’d woken refreshed, he’d been made to face his error.

‘What were ya thinking of Blondie?’ Starsky asked, with his usual direct approach.

‘Not now Starsk’.

‘Well when? It aint gonna go away buddy. We need to talk’.

‘I know, but not now. It just doesn’t feel right now. Like there isn’t time’ Hutch blustered.

The brunet in the next bed snorted and folded his arms across his healing chest. ‘Yeah, know what ya mean. Between all these books I gotta read and the soccer game I’m due to play this afternoon, I don’t know when I’m gonna have time to listen’.

Hutch propped himself up on his elbow. Was his partner feeling sorry for himself? He just couldn’t cope with both of them feeling like that right now. But instead of a mournful face he saw the beginnings of a grin on the handsome face as Starsky’s sightless eyes stared upwards at the ceiling. He sighed and flopped down on the bed again.

‘Jeez ya know how to push the buttons!’

‘Yup, that’s me. Button pusher extraordinaire. Now start talkin’ the curly haired man said happily, knowing he’d crumbled Hutch’s defences.

‘There really isn’t a whole lot to tell. Can’t we just….’ He tailed off as he saw the brunet’s imperious hand raised high.

‘Tell it to the hand, Blintz’ he said.

‘OK. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. Where d’ya want me to start?’

‘Well…duh! At the beginning?’

‘Ya know you really are an irritating son of a … Ok, the beginning’.

Hutch tried to get his thoughts in order. How could he tell his best friend just how much he’d been hurting all these months without making it out that some of it was Starsky’s fault? Of course it wasn’t, but sometimes it kinda felt that way.

‘Are you ready for all this?’

‘Hutch, so help me, if I could see ya, I’d smack ya!’

‘Ok, ok. Just warning ya there.’ Hutch paused briefly to collect his thoughts and then, he began talking.

‘When Gunther shot you, I knew it was bad. I thought you’d die, an’ you did for a gut wrenching few seconds. Then you started to get better and I felt like we were gonna make it, like we’d be back out there together and nothing would change. I hated seeing what you had to go through, especially at the trial, but there wasn’t a helluva lot I could do about it. And I felt so powerless. It was all down to you – your healing and your physio’.

‘When you came home from the physio and you were so badly beat, there was nothing I could do then either, no way I could take your pain away, although what I really wanted to do was to take the exercise for you, just to stop your pain for a while, and it cut me up. And I started drinking. At night, when you’d gone to bed. Just the odd glass of bourbon or tequila to begin with. Nothing really, just some fire water to ease out the kinks of the day, and at first it helped’.

‘Then when I had to go back to work, and you weren’t there, the alcohol took away some of the… dunno… loneliness I guess. Coz I missed you not being there, it was like I was doing a familiar job with an arm tied behind my back. And the paperwork wasn’t my bag, but I kept at it coz I thought we’d still get back out there. And then when the review board’s doc told you you’d never be fit enough to get back on the streets, the bourbon helped again, but I needed more of it. Pretty soon I was getting through a bottle every three or four nights, but it wasn’t helping the same anymore’.

‘I could see you battling through. Always tryin’ to be cheerful and it got to me. Half of me wanted to hug you and tell you to stop being so damned brave and just let it out, and the other half of me wanted to knock your block off and tell you to cut it out. You made me feel so… incompetent. As if I couldn’t match you. You were the one who was hurt, and whose life had been fucked up, but I was the one who was cracking up.’

‘The day you said you were going, I felt so hurt, as if even after all we’d both been through, somehow you rejected me. Deep down I know why you went, but it hurt, buddy. It hurt more ‘n’ you’ll ever know’ he looked sideways at Starsky, trying to decide whether he’d gone too far and hoping his partner had heard enough to make him stop. But the brunet was lying with his head pointed towards Hutch, a look of concentration on his face as he listened.

‘I hurt too buddy. I guess I was just so crazy with everything that had gone on to think straight. I was the only thing I could think of to do to stop you wasting your life away with a… a cripple’ he said with a shaky laugh. ‘Go on. I need to hear this, and I think it’s been too long for you. You need to get this off your chest’.

Hutch sighed. Where had he gotten to?

‘So when you went, Dobey made me sign up with Daniel, and I was a complete bastard to him. I hated that it was him in my car and not you, and, to be honest, I didn’t trust him to watch my back like you did. But after a while we straightened things out and it worked well for a short time, till …’ Hutch stopped. He was going to say “till I got him killed” but Dan’s voice seemed to resonate in his head “It wasn’t your fault. IT …WASN’T…YOUR … FAULT” He chuckled to himself – listen to the dead guy why don’t ya?

‘It worked till he was killed. After that I lost it big style. I’d lost you, I’d convinced myself I’d got Dan killed and I couldn’t function. That’s when Dobey telephoned you and asked you to talk to me. That’s when I hit rock bottom. Shit, I was so stoned at Dan’s funeral that I made a complete ass of myself and Dobey had to take me home. That’s when we got the new of your accident and I came straight here… After that, you know what happened’.

‘Yeah, ya got stoned again and took a nosedive onto my floor’ Starsky said, breaking the tension that had grown in the room. He sighed, wriggling in the bed to try and get more comfortable. ‘I did what I did because I though it would be best for both of us. Turned out I was wrong in so many different ways. I thought I was doing great. My new boss thought so too, but there was always something missing. Something I couldn’t really put my finger on. I met an old guy, in the apartment next to mine, Morris is his name. He was good to me; real kind. Once he told me that he had too a close friend many years ago, a guy called Rob. His friend and he went through quite a lot of the same things we did, and Morris was the one who made me realise that things change, but sometimes we can’t escape the inevitable’.

‘When Dobey rang, I went to speak to my boss, Melville. He gave me one week to sort everything out and get back up there, but I knew I wouldn’t be going back any time soon. Coz I knew I needed to be here. That’s what was missing’.

‘Starsk, I’ve messed up your new job and your new life’. Hutch said, feeling the deep dark depressive thoughts trying to claw their way back into his head.

‘No you didn’t. That’s the point Blondie. I think in a way, you put me back on track. Sure it felt good to be out there doing a job again, the kind I enjoyed instead of paperwork, but it wasn’t right. Being here is’.

‘But if you hadn’t come back, you wouldn’t have had the accident and you wouldn’t be lying there with broken legs and……’

‘Blind? You can say it Blintz. It aint catchin’.

‘In a way I wish it was’ Hutch said quietly.

‘Oh sure. Then all we’d need to do would be stick Huggy in the eyes and we could do a “Three blind Mice” routine! C’mon Hutch. Don’t beat yourself up over this. You weren’t there. The juggernaut was, unfortunately’.

‘Unfortunately? Is that all you can say? Unfortunately? Starsky you can’t see!’ Hutch snorted.

‘Hey, ya don’t have to remind me, pal. But I’ll get thr……we’ll get through this. Just at the moment, and don’t ask me why, but it doesn’t seem so bad. Ask me again when I start walkin’ around and canonin’ into furniture and I might feel a whole lot different’.

‘You mean you think you’ll be able to see again?’

Starsky sighed. ‘I have no idea, but I had weird dreams while I was out’.

‘Weird? How weird?’ the blond asked suspiciously

‘Would you believe I dreamed of Dan?’ Starsky said quietly.

Hutch gulped, his heart skipping a beat. ‘Dan? Daniel Grifith?’

‘Yeah… quite weird thing, huh? He was kinda there, as though he was still living. We talked a lot. You’re gonna think this is so crazy. He told me this was all for the best and things would get better. It was Dan who told me that you needed me’ Starsky said almost shyly. Hutch had never been one for the voodoo mumbo jumbo as he called it and the brunet felt the connection he’d had with the dead cop was too real for his partner to start making fun of it or him.

But Hutch didn’t say anything and for a moment Starsky thought he might be laughing to himself. Eventually, though, Hutch shuffled to the side of his bed and reached out until he could brush his fingers over Starsky’s arm, making the brunet jump slightly.

‘Hey buddy, if Dan told ya things would work out I think I’m inclined to believe him.’

Xxxxxxx

In the next 2 weeks, things went on as expected. Right after learning about the accident, Starsky’s mother had travelled to Bay City to stay with her oldest son for as long as he needed her –Of course, she arrived without Nick by her side, something that neither surprised nor disappointed Starsky or Hutch- During her stay, the brave woman, while constantly fussing over Starsky had managed to gather enough fortitude to keep her fears regarding his future to herself. However, the brunet was too perceptive where his mother was concerned and she was unable to effectively hide her feelings from him. Her distress pained Starsky and Hutch too, and it was causing the three of them too much added stress. A worry that none of them needed at that point, so finally, and after days of gentle coaxing and once she was convinced that her son would be well cared for by Hutch and the hospital staff, Starsky and Hutch had managed to talk the woman into going back home.

As days went by, Starsky’s injuries were healing well. Finally, his left leg had been well enough to be placed in a cast from knee to toe and he was at last free of the traction. His ribs were continuing to heal and without the confines of the pulleys and weights attached to his leg, he was free to move in the bed and even, momentously, sit in a wheelchair for Hutch to push him around the hospital for, as he laughingly put it, a change of scenery.

During the few days when he was up and around, Doctor Jefferson had ordered scans and other tests on Starsky’s eyes. Hutch couldn’t believe sometimes that his friend couldn’t see. The familiar indigo pools still flashed and twinkled and looked as clear and animated as ever, but still the nerves refused to work. Jefferson had finally told them that he could find no neurological reason for the blindness and that sometimes things were beyond medical reasoning, telling the duo that he was sorry he couldn’t come up with better news.

Starsky had sighed and nodded, but had refused to accept the diagnosis and had continued as though everything was going to be ok. And this time, instead of driving Hutch crazy, the blond accepted that this was his partner’s way of coping, and that something would eventually go right for the two of them.

And so, almost a month after the accident, the scar down the left side of his forehead now healed and adding another dimension to the ruggedly handsome face, Starsky and Hutch packed up their things from the small room and prepared to meet the world head on back at Hutch’s apartment.

Chapter 13

‘Who scored? Will someone please tell me who scored?’ the brunet shouted as Hutch and Huggy both cheered the final seconds of the game as Starsky tried to hear what the commentator was saying. Eventually he gave it up as a bad job and concentrated on the whoops and shouts from his to friends.

He’d been home at Hutch’s apartment now for over a week and had even been able to walk a little way on his own, albeit very slowly and painfully now that a walking heel had been attached to the plaster cast on his right, less severely injured leg. The fact that he couldn’t see where he was walking to was an added problem, but he’d been to Venice Place so often that it was like a second home to him, and until he could get back to his own place in New York, he was happy to be home and in the company of the blond.

‘The Chargers. I think Blondie owes you $10’ Huggy said taking the empty beer bottle from Starsky’s hand and replacing it with a full one.

‘Yeah? Hey. My lucks changing all the time! I only need anther thousand or so wins an’ I can live the life I wish to become accustomed to’.

Huggy drained the last of his beer and stood up stretching his long lanky back. ‘Okay folks, Huggys a busy boy tomorrow, so I’m gonna love ya and leave ya to your fantasies of wealth and fame. I’m gonna hit the sack’.

‘Night Hug. Thanks for comin’ over’ Starsky said from the sofa as Hutch rose and saw him to the door. After waving him off, the blond came back and threw himself down on the chair at the side of the brunet.

‘What sort of life would ya like to become accustomed to?’ he asked, out of the blue.

Starsky seemed surprised. ‘What d’ya mean. As I am now, or if everythin was fine ‘n’ dandy?’

‘I just wondered what you’d dream for yourself’ Hutch said quietly.

‘Sight. That’d be a biggy. I’d love to be back on the streets, but that’s not gonna happen. But it’d be kinda nice to still work with you. I guess that’s my dream’.

Hutch smiled to himself. ‘That’s the sum total of the Starsky fantasy? To work with me. I don’t know whether to be flattered or sorry that you don’t have a better imagination’.

‘I’m a man of simple tastes, what can I say? Why did ya ask?’

The blond sighed, resting his head back on the chair back. ‘I just wondered where we go from here. What’s next’.

‘Well there is something I need to decide. I have the apartment in New York, and I have you here. You made it pretty damned obvious that you don’t want me being up north, but I don’t know what I can do here. In the words of the song, “I need to know, Do I stay or do I go?” Whatever I decide, I need to make the decision with you this time’.

‘Would you still be able to do your new job up there now that you’re…’

‘Blind? Ya can say it Blintz. And no, I guess I wouldn’t. Too much reading old files and checking micro fiches. Unless there was something else I could do there, I guess that’s the end of that little episode too’. He said it with no recrimination in his voice, but yet still, Hutch felt the loss of his partner’s independence keenly.

‘You can’t travel yet’ he said doubtfully. ‘Just give it a while longer, things may change’.

‘I know. And I don’t’ want to make a snap decision, but I have to face the reality that I can’t work on cold cases if I can’t see. And that was the reason the Captain wanted me up there. I guess what I’m trying to say is that of the job aint there for me, then there’s no point in me living up there. My friends are here’.

‘But your Mom’s still in New York’.

‘Yeah, but now she’s moved out of the city to Rochester, the pull of inner city living isn’t the same. And she could always move down here. The climate would be better for her rheumatism’.

‘Sounds like you’ve made some kind of decision buddy’ Hutch said

‘Sounds like I have. Now I just need to get back up there and sort out my things and then decide what to do with the rest of my life. I’m sure there’s loads of guys who can’t see but who work. It’s just that at the moment I can’t see what I could do. No pun intended. And there’s no way I can live on disability pension’.

Hutch snorted. ‘When you were really sick this last time, the nurse, Kelly, told me to take iddy biddy baby steps. One at a time. That’s what you need to do. Take one step at a time. We get you well enough to travel, then we drive up to New York, do the thing with your apartment, then come back home’.

xxxxxxx

Next day, Starsky picked up the phone and dialled the NYPD. It felt strange to once again need to talk to Captain Melville, but there were things that needed to be done and stuff that needed to be said. He asked for Melville by name and waited as he was connected, his fingers curled around the phone’s receiver as his other hand played with the loops of wire.

‘Melville here’ the curt voice sounded over the phone.

‘Good morning sir, its Dave Starsky’.

‘Sergeant Starsky, how are you. I tried phoning the hospital, but I couldn’t get much confirmation – I wasn’t a relative. But your previous Captain has kept me informed. He tells me your legs are healing well, but…..’

Starsky was getting used to the fact that people were seemingly more uncomfortable with his blindness than he was and he put the man’s hesitancy to one side.

‘Yes, at the moment, I can’t see. Which is a problem we need to discuss’.

‘Captain Dobey did say that it may be temporary?’ Melville’s voice held that quality that people get when they are trying to soften the blow of bad news.

Starsky snorted. ‘Well I don’t think either of us are willing to play the waiting game are we Sir? I was ringing to hand in my notice. There’s no way that I can investigate the cold cases when I can’t read the files and I’ve tried to think of ways around it, but I don’t think there are any’.

Melville sounded relieved and sorry at the same time. ‘Is there nothing else we could offer you Dave?’

‘Well I don’t think a job on the marksmen’s team would be much use, do you? No, I think my days in the force have finally run out. I still need to adjust to this sightless lark and having the job at the back of my mind is an added worry’.

‘Sounds like you’ve made your mind up for sure’ Melville said. ‘But I’m not going to do anything at the moment. I accept that you can’t do this job, but maybe there’s something. No pressure and don’t think of it as a sword of Damocles hanging over you. Just take your time. One step at a time’.

‘You’re the third person to tell me that’ Starsky chuckled. ‘And thanks Sir, I appreciate it’.

The brunet put down the telephone and dialled another New York number, waiting for the phone to pick up and as it did, he heard a dog baying in the background.

‘Hey Morris. Ya ought to feed that hound ya know. Hercule Poirot needs his bone’.

‘David! Good to hear from you. Are you ok? I tried to find out how you were. Was it bad? Are you coming back?’ The questions came thick and fast and Starsky grinned into the phone.

‘In order Patrick, not bad, yes and maybe. I had a car accident. Broke both my legs, so getting around’s a bit complicated at the moment’.

‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’ Morris asked

‘Well yeah. Just a small thing, it’s just….ungh…..hold on’ Starsky dropped the receiver as a sickening pain lanced through his left temple, almost choking off his breathing in its intensity. He gasped, bending over in the chair as he pressed both hands to his head, trying to stem the tide of pain. He could hear Morris shouting down the phone, asking if there was anything he could do, or anyone he could call, but it took the brunet’s total concentration to keep from passing out. Bright white lights flashed across the blackness inside his head, each one accompanied by another blinding pain.

In desperation, he grabbed for the telephone in his lap and managed to wedge it to his ear.

‘Morris…….call ‘Utch……BCPD…….help’ he groaned into the receiver before slamming it down and grabbing at his pounding head again. He’d had migraines all his life. The sort that made him want to bang his head against the wall and caused him to vomit. But this was ten times worse. There were noises in his ears like the interference from a radio, static building up inside his head so that he couldn’t think straight and with a last agonised breath, he fell forward from the chair and landed in a heap on the ground, unconscious, his broken legs sticking out at odd angles from his body.

Morris put his phone down and rattled the cradle until he got the operator’s attention. ‘Hey honey, I need you to connect me to Bay City Police Department, quick as ya can’ the old man shouted into the telephone. He stood and waited, drumming his fingers impatiently as he heard clicks and whirs on the line. Eventually a woman’s voice came on the line and asked him who he wanted to speak to.

‘Is there someone there called Hutchinson? Ken Hutchinson?’ he asked.

‘Please hold while I transfer you’.

Again the nerve shattering wait and then another velvety man’s voice. ‘Hutchinson’.

‘Is that Ken? You don’t know me. I’m a friend of David’s from New York. Patrick Morris. Erm…David was ringing me to talk and he’s in pain. The phones dead. He asked me to call you’.

Hutch’s senses went on “partner alert”. He managed to yell “thanks” into the receiver, then slapped it down and ran for Dobey’s office.

‘Starsky’s sick. I need to get home. I’ll let ya know’ he shouted at the dazed looking Captain, then ran for the door, his powerful long legs powering him down the corridor and back to his car.

He’d gone to work that morning feeling like shit. Although he’d resolved not to take any more of the drugs, and had poured the rest of the bourbon down the pan, his body still craved the relaxants and he was having great difficulty sleeping. If it hadn’t been for the promise he’d made to Dan and to Starsky, and the fact that the brunet truly needed him, Hutch doubted whether he would have had the strength of character to stay clear of either substance. But he was working through his addictions, and the fact that Starsky needed so much care at that time was a godsend, keeping the blonde’s mind off of his problems until late at night.

It was only then, when Starsky was in bed and asleep and Hutch tossed and turned on his bed that the seductive pull of the chemical oblivion got to him.

But Morris’ words had shaken him out of his stupor and his mind went immediately to his partner. He’d had a thought to try ringing, to see whether Starsky would answer, but decided that that would waste too much time. And so now, he got into his battered brown LTD, slammed the mars light on the roof and set off for his apartment. Screeching to a halt outside Venice Place, he took the steps up to his front door two at a time and pushed the door open with such force that it ricocheted of the wall and closed on its own.

Hutch saw immediately the crumpled body of his friend and without thinking, reached for the phone and asked the operator to send an ambulance to his house. He checked the operator had gotten the message then replaced the receiver and crossed to Starsky.

The blond pushed the coffee table out of the way and knelt by his friends side. Starsky’s face was bathed in sweat, the heat radiating from his body like a blast furnace. The face was pale and the eyes closed, thick black lashes like dark smoky smudges against his cheeks. His breathing was slow, but he didn’t struggle for breath and Hutch put a hand on his shoulder.

‘Starsky? Hey Starsk. Can ya hear me buddy?’

There was a low groan and the indigo eyes cracked open a little. ‘Utch?’

‘Yeah. What’re ya doin’ down there buddy?’

‘Floors nice ‘n’ comfy’ Starsky said indistinctly.

‘Yeah? Sure it is. Just lay there till the ambulance comes huh?’

‘Don’t want an amb’lance. Not sick’.

‘No? Then why’d ya decide the floor looked a good place to rest up?’

‘Hutch?’

‘Hmm?’

‘I saw some colours. They’ve gone now. But I saw ‘em’

‘Yeah? Well maybe they’ll come back soon. Just rest up till they get here’.

‘Hmm, rest……sounds nice’…

Chapter 14

Hutch paced the small corridor outside the treatment room to which Starsky had been brought. He was beginning to come around a little more by the time the ambulance arrived, but the paramedics and his blond partner were adamant that he should go to the hospital to be checked out.

In the ambulance he’d been tired and had drifted in and out of sleep, but by the time he’d gotten to Memorial and Dr Jefferson had been sent for, the brunet was wide awake and was beginning to make his feelings on once more being in the hospital known.

‘I don’t need to be here’ he said as the paramedics lifted him from the gurney onto the bed.

‘Well why don’t you just walk out then?’ Hutch said, not unkindly.

‘Oh ha ha, very funny! What I mean is I’m not sick. Hospital is for sick people and I’m not. Just a bit frayed around the edges’. The brunet whined. He opened his eyes wider, hoping to maybe see something. The colours he’s viewed when the pains had been at their worst had given him a crazy sense of optimism, but now there was just the cloying blackness again.

Dr Jefferson arrived and pushed his way into the room and took a look at the curly haired man. ‘Can’t stay away huh?’ he asked good naturedly. ‘What happened?’

‘Nuthin’ Starsky said sullenly.

‘He fell’ Hutch explained. He tapped his partner on the arm. ‘Tell him’.

‘About what?’

‘About the colours. You said you saw colours’ the blond persisted.

‘What colours? What did you see? Jefferson asked.

Starsky sighed. ‘It’s probably nuthin. I was on the phone, I got a blinding pain in my head, saw all these psychedelic colours like I was on LSD or sumthin, then I passed out’.

‘Where was the pain?’ the doctor said, shining his pen light into the deep indigo eyes.

‘Kinda over my temples. Like someone was tightening a band around my head, but it was intense. Why? What’s it all mean?’

Jefferson paused. ‘I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But I want to run a series of tests.

‘And if you do these tests you can tell if I might be able to see again?’

‘There’s a possibility. Although I don’t want to raise your hopes. I couldn’t see any damage to your optic nerves. There’s nothing to say why you can’t see. But at least these tests will rule out certain other factors’.

‘I dunno Doc. I just get the feeling that if it’s gonna come back it’ll do it on its own. But it’s been weeks now and nothing has happened’.

‘Are you saying that you don’t want them done?’

‘Starsky! The pain was so bad that you passed out. You’ve gotta do something!’ Hutch said.

‘I know. I’m gonna go home and go to bed and then tomorrow I’m gonna plan my trip up north’.

‘Partner, listen to me. One night here and maybe the Doc can sort something out for you, put our mind at rest. Or at least make me feel better?’ Hutch persisted.

The brunet sighed, resigned to his fate. ‘Fine. Give it your best shot. But ya won’t find nuthin, I know ya won’t’.

xxxxxxx

‘David we’re going to do a new test. It’s called a CT scan and it’ll take photos of your head and brain, like slices through a cake. It’s a slow process, but it might give us the answers we need. And the good thing is it isn’t painful. You just need to remain absolutely still for a couple of hours’ Jefferson explained as Starsky sat in front of the huge doughnut shaped machine. The room was quiet and although he couldn’t see the scanner, he felt it’s presence in the room, as though it were looming over him. It was hot in the big room and he could feel the prickle of sweat down his spine, but at least this was one test where he didn’t have to take off any clothes – a first for him and a matter for which he was grateful. Being on those stupid dresses always made him feel vulnerable. At least with his sweat pants on, stretched tight over his casts, he felt almost normal.

He lay down on the gurney, flat on his back, arms at his side as the nurse smiled at him and draped a blanket over his legs. He felt her tighten a strap of some sort across his body at waist level, trapping his arms to his sides and stiffened, crazy memories of rough hands on his body and pain making his breath hitch in his throat. God sometimes he longed just to be able to see a comforting face or smile.

‘It’s ok Dave. I just need to do this to make sure you don’t move. A lot of our patients fall asleep during the test, and I’d hate to have you move and we start it all over again!’

He relaxed.

‘K’ he said softly, but braced himself anyway. He’d had the misfortune to be on so many of these so called “painless” tests that had, in fact, left him sweating and panting as sympathetic doctors and nurses looked on. He had always preferred that they just tell him straight out that things would be painful, then at least he could prepare himself. But there again, maybe this time might be different?

‘I’m going to put a strap across your forehead too. It will be tight, but hopefully not uncomfortable’.

Starsky nodded his consent and felt the pliable plastic strap tighten across the top of his head. It pressed against the fresh scar over his left eye and he hissed a little, but said nothing. He felt the gurney move and the nurse told him that the test was about to start. He felt nothing, the only sign of anything happening being the whir of the machine. The soft sounds eventually lulled him into a sleep and he dreamed happy dreams of running down the perps that he and Hutch had dealt with over the years. In Starsky’s dreams it felt good to have the reassuring weight of his Smith and Wesson in his hand again and to feel his legs powering him along as the wind rushed through his curly hair.

Two hours later he was almost sorry when the technician shook his shoulder gently. His muscles felt cramped from having to remain in one position for so long and as he sat up he felt a little dizzy, but he also felt an odd calmness. He knew they wouldn’t find anything, but at the same time had the sense that all of this would eventually come right. How he knew he had no idea, but thoughts of what Dan had said kept coming to him. It was all for a purpose. And maybe that purpose wasn’t something for himself. Maybe it was to help another. Maybe Hutch? The blond had been clear of the drug and booze for a week now, and although Starsky still heard him prowling the living room in the middle of the night, he had no sense that Hutch was looking for more Vallium. He seemed less agitated and more focussed and that in turn, comforted the brunet.

Starsky returned to his little side room and knew that Hutch was there waiting for him. He’d sent the blond home the previous evening. He wasn’t sick, and Hutch deserved a night on his own without having to keep an ear cocked for Starsky’s needs. One thing about this blindness thing, Starsky mused. Although people’s sentiments about “other senses taking over “was a load of crap designed to make them feel better, he did understand that there were times when he could smell something or hear something that he would not have noticed before. Now, it was the lemon fresh scent of Hutch’s shampoo and the rasp of his partner’s fingers over the stubble on his chin.

‘Hey Blondie. Sleep well?’ he asked.

‘Sure. How was the CT test?’

‘Piece o’ cake. Best test ever. I fell asleep. They should make ‘em all like that’ the brunet replied, leaning heavily on the orderly as he transferred himself to the bed, the chair being taken up by Hutch.

‘Did they tell you anything?’

‘Nah. Nuthin. Doc says it’ll be a while before they can tell me the results. It’s all so new they’re just learning how to interpret the readouts. Good news is, I can go home now’ Starsky smiled happily’.

Xxxxxxx

The next day, Starsky rang Pat Morris back to thank him for calling for Hutch. The old detective was relieved to hear from Starsky and settled easily into conversation.

‘I’ve been looking after your place. When are you coming back up here?’ Morris asked.

‘I’m planning on getting up there soon. Hutch is gonna drive me. I should get these casts off fairly soon, then we’ll drive up to New York and take care of business. I need to pack up. Gonna move back down to Bay City’.

‘You do what ya think is right, son. Have you given any thought to what you might do? For a job, I mean?’

‘Only every waking hour. Pat. I just can’t over the sightless thing. Who’s gonna want to employ a guy who can’t see? One thing is for sure. It won’t be BCPD’.

‘Seems like a waste to me. You have so much talent and such a good career history. Will ya let me think about it? I got one or two more years in than you, an’ I got talking to your Captain Dobey while I was askin’ how you were. We may have something cooked up by the time you’re back on your feet’

‘Yeah? What?’ Starsky was intrigued, but at the same time didn’t want any favours. He knew Dobey. The Captain had a gruff exterior, but at the same time a heart of gold. If there was any way he could make this work for the brunet he would do. But Starsky wanted a proper job, and not just something cobbled together as a give away. He may be blind but he was no charity case. And he still had Hutch to consider.

‘Never mind for now. You need to rest, boy. Rest and get better, an’ give me a call if you need anything, huh?’

‘Hey, you’ve done enough. You’re looking after my place. Maybe in a couple of weeks I’ll be back up there. Doc says my legs are healing well and the ribs are doing great. I can’t fly for a while, which is why we’ll make the trip by road, but I’m doing good’.

‘You sound good’ Morris said, an edge of surprise in his voice.

‘Ya know, I feel it. Dunno what happened while I was out, but somehow I feel more at peace now than I have done for years. It’s almost like the blindness has given me permission to think about me for a while… Jeez, I sound like that police shrink! I guess what I’m trying t’say is although not being able to see sucks big time, its not as scary as thought’.

Morris listened to the young man, amazed at the fortitude of the curly haired cop. He and Dobey had talked for over an hour on the telephone and had finally come up with an option for both Starsky and his blond partner to work together again, in the PD and still at the sharp end of proceedings. They both agreed it was too early to discuss any of it with the two men, but at the end of their telephone conversation, both Dobey and Morris were happy with their ideas and knew both former detectives would leap at the chance they would be offered.

Now Morris prepared to say goodbye. ‘Some things are just meant to be, boy. Sometimes we have no idea why they happen and they seem so unfair at the time. But I’m a firm believer in Karma. What’s gonna be is gonna be. You look after yourself son. Be speakin’ to ya’.

Chapter 15

3 weeks later.

Starsky hissed as his feet landed on the floor gently and he stood unfettered by the plaster casts for the first time. It felt sickeningly strange to not have the heavy structures surrounding his legs any more, and not exactly comfortable. Pains shot down his shins and up into his thighs and the bottom of his feet felt spongy and cold. He’d had a broken leg before and a broken ankle when he was young, so he was no stranger to the sensation, but he hated it all the same.

‘How does it feel?’ the young doctor asked.

‘Just gimme a minute’ Starsky grunted, trying to get his balance. He grasped Hutch’s arm and swayed, his balance not being helped by his sightlessness. Then he let go and stood under his own power.

‘There’s nothing in front of you buddy. You can walk at least ten steps before coming to the wall’ the blond told him.

‘Don’t you want a cane?’ the doctor asked

‘No! Canes are for losers. Stand clear’ Starsky grinned into the blackness.

Very slowly and a little unsteadily, Starsky made his way the ten fumbling steps to the wall, arms outstretched at the last moment, questing for the end of his range. He felt the hard plaster, turned and rested his back against it, panting, but happy. He’d managed his first steps on his newly healed legs and this was the first real step back into the real world. Now all he had to do was battle his sightlessness and he’d be back in the land of the living!

Today was a big day. Not only had he had his casts finally removed, but he was off now to see Doctor Jefferson to get the results of the CT scan. The doctor had apologised for the delay, but the science was still so new that it took a along while to interpret the results.

The brunet had brought specially for the occasion, a pair of his old jeans which he’d kept at Hutch’s house. Now, without the bulky casts to stop him, he pushed his legs painfully into the butter soft denim and pulled them up. The material chafed against his legs, the sensations strange after them being protected for 6 weeks and as he buttoned the waistband, he realised they weren’t as tight as they once were. He cinched the black leather belt a notch tighter and smiled happily. A Starsky in jeans was one step closer to normality.

The happy brunet said goodbye to the young man in the plaster room and was about to set off towards the door.

‘Don’t ya want a ride Gordo?’ Hutch asked.

‘Blondie, I’ve been riding around for the last 6 weeks. Gonna walk. It’ll take me a bit longer, but just gimme a bit of independence huh? The curly haired man said, holding onto the door handle he’d found.

‘But Starsk…..’

‘Not now Blondie. Gimme some independence!’

‘I will, but….’

‘Hutch, just shudup. I need to do this on my own’ the smaller man said proudly as he pulled open the door and stepped through it, closing it softly behind him.

Hutch waited for a moment, a slight smirk on his face and then the door opened again and a crestfallen face limped back.

‘You might have told me that was a cupboard’ he said.

‘Hey, you were the one who wanted to do it all on his own’ Hutch grinned. He walked over and allowed his partner to take hold of his proffered elbow. ‘Shall we?’

Together they made their slow way to Jefferson’s office. Starsky limped heavily, his usual strut replaced by a rolling type of limping gait. He was in pain, Hutch could see that by the patina of sweat blossoming across his forehead and cheeks, but Starsky proudly carried on, tight lipped, his hand on Hutch’s arm being the only aid he would allow. It hurt. A lot. But the pains felt good. They were healing pains and he hugged them to him. Of all his injuries, these were the ones he needed to heal, so that, even sightless, he could start to get some more independence and begin to get the rest of his life in order.

Hutch watched proudly. He was happy for the both of them. In the preceding weeks he had only lapsed once, hitting the bourbon one night when sleep just would not come. He’d lain awake worrying for Starsky, sorry for himself and his lost life and scared of the future. He’d dared to look the undiscovered country – the future – in the face and it was too much. In the wee small hours of the morning, when the shadows had crowded in on him and life seemed once again hopeless, he’d got into the car and found an all night store. Without really thinking about it, he’d bought the bottle of bourbon and had taken it home, polishing off over three quarters of it before the sun came up.

When Starsky had gotten himself out of bed, he’d called out for Hutch, hearing his deep, unnatural breathing. Examining his friend with his hands, he’d found the blond dead to the world and face down on the sofa, a bottle still clutched in his hands, his hair mussed and a pool of vomit on the floor.

It marked a turning point. Silently, and with a great deal of effort, Starsky had cleared up the mess and poured the remains of the bourbon down the sink. He’d brewed fresh black coffee, achieving a scald to his hand in the process, and had made his cautious way back to his partner. He’d roused Hutch, who felt like shit and was so full of contrition that Starsky couldn’t be mad at him. The brunet had poured the hot black brew down Hutch’s throat and then the blond had lain on the sofa, his head in Starsky’s lap as they’d talked, not for the first time about the future.

Since that time, Hutch hadn’t touched a drop. He’d gone back to his healthy diet and had even interested Starsky in his power shakes, the brunet realising that they’d help him heal too, and Starsky had waited at home while Hutch had started his regime of early morning runs again.

The two men stopped outside Jefferson’s office and Starsky heaved a deep sigh. ‘Hutch. If it’s not good. If the tests show this in permanent, are ya gonna be ok?’ he asked.

‘Don’t you have that the wrong way round partner?’ Hutch asked gently.

‘Ok. Are we gonna be ok?’

‘Yeah. We’ve come this far. What’s one more doctor’s visit?’ he pushed the door open and they went in. Starsky lowered himself gently into a chair and Hutch sat at his side as they waited for the doctor’s pronouncement.

‘Jefferson greeted them. ‘Well, it’s nice to see you walking around finally David. How do you feel?’

‘Sore, and then some. But it’s good to be walking again’ Starsky answered, wishing the small talk was out of the way.

Jefferson saw the impatience and looked once more through his papers. ‘Ok well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just cut to the chase. The CT scan didn’t reveal anything sinister. No tumours or masses and no blockages. On the other hand, it also didn’t reveal the reason why you can’t see. I’m sorry. We have no explanation for it and no idea whether it’s permanent or not. But having said that, it’s been over 2 months now and apart from the colours you said you saw, there’s been no change. Have you seen them again? Have you had the pains again?’

‘No, not since’ Starsky lied. There were a few occasions, which he’d kept even from Hutch, when the sickening pain had returned and he’d had to lie down, panting until they’d passed. And yes, the colours had been there, giving him false hope, but they were always replaced by the cloying blackness and so he’d kept his silence.

The news of his sightlessness, he felt, should have left him depressed and angry, but still there was the calm acceptance that he’d felt all along. He had no idea why, but he seemed to know that this was for a purpose, although he had no idea what that purpose could possibly be.

‘S’ok Doc. I kinda knew. Don’t worry. At least I know now that I can start to make plans. Get myself back together. Thanks for all you help’.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t do more David. But if anything does change, you know where I am. Anything at all, just come straight back’. He stood and Starsky heard the scrape of the chair on the carpet. He stood too, his hands once more seeking out Hutch’ steadying arm, and reached out his hand. Jefferson took it and shook it and the two men departed.

oOo

The next day saw them on the road up to New York. They planned to take the journey nice and easy, over a five day stretch and had booked in at various motels along the way. Hutch was concerned that Starsky’s still sore legs wouldn’t take kindly to the long rides, but Starsky insisted that so long as they took it easy he would feel better getting a grip on his life and putting his affairs in order.

After four days travel and a stop over on the final night at his Mom’s new house in Rochester, with its usual emotional reception, the two men made it into the city and at 4:30 they knocked on Pat Morris’ door. Hutch had never, of course, met the old cop, although he’d spoken to him on the phone, but he was looking forward to seeing the man who’d befriended his partner, and in fact, Starsky had made arrangements for Morris to come back to Bay City with them, two days later, when he’d packed his own apartment up and organised for the contents, and his Torino to be shipped back to California.

Hutch had not had the courage to ask Starsky why he would want to go to the expense of taking the car back. Starsky would be able to do many things even though he was blind, but driving would never be one of them. But instead, the blond kept his counsel for himself, not wanting to shatter the last of his friend’s dreams and even helped Starsky organise for keys and packing and all the rest.

On their final night in the Big Apple, the three men went out for a meal to the Italian Restaurant the Starsky’s grandmother used to live above. It was the one that the brunet always told Hutch about whenever they ate Italian back home and it was good for the blond to finally see it. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the bistro they’d been in when Starsky had been shot in the back all those years ago, and of course the tale was told as they consumed their spaghetti and penne. The brunet steadfastly refused to even consider the linguini with clams! At the end of the evening, they made their way back to Morris’ apartment and sat with three sodas in honour of Hutch’s fourth week of sobriety.

‘Has Dobey been in touch?’ Morris asked casually as he ticked Hercule’s silky ears.

‘He’s been in touch, but he’s like a clam when it comes to your plans. Said it was all your idea. The opening’s there and you should have the honour of telling us. He was real mysterious about it’ Starsky said. ‘Are ya gonna tell us? Or do I have to set the dog on ya?’

Hercule Poirot looked up, yawned and rested his head back on Starsky’s hand.

‘What would you say to the two of you working together back for BCPD?’

Hutch’s head jerked up sharply. ‘I’d say you’re living in a fantasy world’ he said. ‘Not wanting to put a dampener on the night, Pat, but what can we do together? It’d be great. It’d be the answer to all our prayers, a dream come true. But we’ve been through the list. Starsky’s b…’ he swallowed. ‘He’s blind and I don’t wanna work with another partner’,

‘You don’t have to. You can both work together and still for the force. Oh this is so good. Gonna have to savour it’ Morris crowed, rubbing his dry wrinkled hands together. ‘Give an old man a couple of minutes to enjoy this, hehehe’.

Starsky grinned in his direction. ‘Morris, so help me. If ya don’t tell us now, a few minutes is all you’ll have! C’mon, don’t be cruel!’

‘Ok ok. Oh you’ll love this! What do you say to you both being back on BCPD’s payroll. Working as a team. Doing what you love best, which is working at the sharp end… ’

‘Morris…’ the brunet growled, but he could feel the excitement mounting.

‘Oh fine. Cut my moment of glory short! If you accept, you both start four days from now, on Monday….’

‘You hold him an’ I’ll rip his finger nails out’ Hutch mumbled, sitting on the edge of his seat.

Morris enjoyed his moment of happiness as he announced to the two waiting men. ‘You’re gonna be Bay City’s first dedicated team of hostage negotiators!

Chapter 16

Monday

The weekend had been spent in preparation. Starsky had worked steadfastly at the exercises the doctor had given him to get his wasted leg muscles back into good working order, whilst Hutch had started to gather brochures together for a new apartment for him. Having sold his when he went north, the brunet was effectively homeless and both he and Morris were bunking down at Hutch’s until the brunet could get something more permanent.

They’d made it back from New York in record time, arriving back on the Saturday evening. They’d made immediate arrangements to meet with Dobey and the big black man had come around to the apartment to tell them the deal that had been cut. Both men had welcomed him with open arms. Offered him drinks and had listened to the proposals Dobey had made.

Whilst they would lose the “detective” title, they would in effect receive a pay rise. Whilst not getting promoted as such, both men would have enhanced pay to reflect the specialised work they would be doing. Whilst on active duty rosters as from the following Monday, they would undergo specialist training from police psychologists and would be “on call” from that time on. When they weren’t used as negotiators for Bay City, they may be called upon to go to neighbouring precincts to use their skills there, and further down the line, would be expected to train others in their techniques.

At the end of the meeting, both men were delirious with happiness. Never in their wildest dreams did they think that they would be able to work together again, much less in the department that they’d grown to love in a perverse sort of way. There was no way they could express their thanks to the two men involved and so they told them with quiet dignity that they do everything in their power to make the job a success.

On the Sunday, before they were due to go back to work, Hutch had driven Starsky around the block to see an apartment that he’d seen advertised. It was only a hundred yards or so from his own place and he’d had a preliminary look around. Morris came with them for the ride and was amazed at what he saw.

The two bedroom apartment faced onto Venice Canal with a small garden area to the front. It was a single storey building accessed by a short level driveway. As Hutch lead Starsky around it, the brunet could feel that it was light an airy. The living room opened out onto an open plan kitchen and from there onto a small patio at the back, surrounded by high trees for privacy. Back inside the two bedrooms were of equal size and Starsky could feel that both had big windows looking out from under deep eaves, giving plenty of light and a sense of airiness whilst keeping the rooms cool from the sun. It had a good feel to it, the rooms flowing from one to the next in a logical pattern. When Hutch lead him into the bathroom, he felt as though he’d been elevated to one of those LA celebrities he’d seen on the TV. It was a large room and Hutch described it as having black and white marble effect tiles, a huge walk in shower and separate tub, toilet and wash hand basin. There was storage for linen and towels and another window opening out onto the back porch.

Starsky fell in love with the place and organised with Maureen, the owner to rent the house on a long term lease. As Morris pointed out, there was noting to walk into, and the brunet had already started counting paces between one place and the next, feeling right at home. With his home now safely dealt with, only one thing remained – work and by that evening, both men were feeling excited and at the same time a little concerned about what they’d let themselves in for.

oOo

2 weeks later

Starsky had finally moved into his new apartment and was adjusting well to life on his own in his blind world. Although to say “n his own” wasn’t quite right as he’d invited Morris to stay for a while. A holiday as a thank you for all the old detective had done fro him. During the days, he and Hutch worked alongside each other and their instructors had all agreed that they both had a flair and an aptitude for the task they had been given. While Hutch’s voice was calm and able to talk down a tense situation, the blindness that had once been a curse now came into its own as the brunet heard the different inflections in people’s voices, interpreting their mood and likely actions without the need to see their body language. What one lacked, the other made up for and by the beginning of their third week of training, they’d settled into a routine of Starsky being picked up by Hutch at 8:00am, an hour in the gym at the precinct, strengthening Starsky’s legs and giving back the muscle tone Hutch had lost during his period when he’d spent his time looking after Starsky.

After that, it was 6 hours of talks, practical exercises and even some deep self analysis. But nothing prepared them for their first job.

The day started as normal and they were literally just getting dressed from the showers when one of the uniformed officers came running into the changing rooms.

‘Hutch, Starsky, Dobey wants you. Your first shout!’ he said excitedly.

Shouldering into the rest of their clothes they. Made their way up to the squad room and sat in their old familiar positions on Dobey’s chair – hutch on the seat and Starsky perched precariously on the arm. Dobey got a lump in his throat seeing them like that, but he quickly dismissed his romanticising as he got down to business.

‘There’s been an armed robbery first thing this morning at Bay City Banking Corporation. So far we know there is only one man and fortunately at that time of morning very few customers. Even so, he’s taken one member of the public hostage. Our guys managed to get a picture through the window’. He handed a grainy black and white image to Hutch who took it and examined it. He looked up at the Captain, questions in his eyes and Dobey shrugged silently.

‘Hutch? What’s up?’ Starsky asked, stunned at the uncomfortable silence in the room.

Dobey shook his head wordlessly as Hutch continued to stare at the picture.

‘Erm….nothing’ he said quietly.

‘Hutch? I may be blind but I aint stupid. What’s up. Ya’ve gone all quiet on me’.

Hutch cleared his throat. ‘sorry Starsk. They’ve got a picture. Of the hostage’.

‘And?’

‘And its Pat Morris. M’sorry’.

‘If this is too close to home, I’ll get someone else’ Dobey continued. ‘The robber is making allsorts of demands and is threatening to kill the hosta……kill Morris unless he gets them’.

‘Who’re ya gonna get Cap? Hutch ‘n’ me have trained for this. We’re goin’ got that? Now. What sort of demands has he made?’

‘Half a million dollars in unmarked non-sequential bills and a ‘copter to take him to a private airfield. After that, he wants safe passage to any country that’ll have him’.

‘Not gonna happen’ growled the brunet. He turned to Hutch. ‘We need to get over there, now’.

‘I know partner. We’ve got everything we need. Who’s the officer at the site?’ he asked Dobey.

‘Its Bill Malcolm. He’s expecting you’.

‘Ok tell Bill to keep the gunman happy. We’ll be there in 15 minutes’ Hutch said, reaching for Starsky’ hand and placing it on his elbow. ‘Ready?’

‘Am I ever?’

The drive down to the bank was done in next to no time with the mars lights and sirens, but Hutch cut both of them as they neared the bank, not wanting to do anything to upset the precarious balance they had with the robber. As they pulled up, he trotted round and took Starsky’s arm, guiding him through the maze of cars until they found Malcolm.

‘Bill? Has he made any more demands yet?’ Starsky asked.

‘Nothing. Its all gone quiet in there’ the burly sergeant said. ‘Boy am I glad to see the two of you? How d’ya want to play this?’

‘Soft and gentle’ Starsky said.

Hutch looked around, describing the scene to his partner. ‘bank to the front. There’s a door on the corner, windows along the side of the building facing us. Two storey building, and access looks restricted to the front door. if he’s gonna come out, that’ll be where he does it’.

‘Can you see him? Can you see Pat?’

‘No nothing yet. We need to get around to the front. Hold on and follow me’ .

Hutch felt Starsky take hold of his belt and, accommodating the limp his partner still had, they made their way slowly round to the front of the building, using the various cars and trucks surrounding it as shields. Once there, they hunkered down behind a convenient black and white and an officer gave Hutch a loud hailer. He took it.

‘Well, we’ll see how good the training was’ he muttered and thumbed down the switch.

‘This is Ken Hutchinson, speaking to the man in the bank. If you can hear me, you can ring 555 172 1884. That’s a private line through to my telephone and we can discuss your terms’. He put down the loud hailer and waited and within 30 seconds, the extension phone next to him rang. It had two receivers and both men picked one up simultaneously.

‘Is that Hutchinson?’ a voice sounded in their ears.

‘Yeah, who is this?’ Hutch asked calmly.

‘It’s the guy with the power, that’s all ya need to know pig’.

Starsky heard the fear in the voice and signalled to Hutch who nodded. Take it calm buddy, he’s dangerous.

‘I was kinda looking for a name. I always talk better when I know who I’m talking to’ the blond tried again.

There was no answer.

‘Ok, well, I’m gonna go with Steve. So, Steve. The guy you have in there with you. He’s got nothing to do with this. He’s just an innocent bystander. Ya wanna let him go?’

“Steve” snorted. ‘Nice try, but no can do. I need some leverage’.

‘OK, I can see that. Can we at least know that the guy is OK? Will you let him talk to me?’

‘Fuck off. He’s alive, take it from me’.

Starsky had been listening intently, and in the background he thought he heard Pat Morris groaning, but couldn’t be sure. He put his thumb up at hutch, who was sweating now. You’re doin’ great buddy. keep goin’. He’s gonna cave soon, I’m sure.

Hutch tried again. ‘Fine Steve. Have it your way. Buddy, I need you to come to the door. No guns, I promise. Nothing at all. I just need to see that you’re ok and that your hostage is. The ‘copter will be here soon. They’ll have the money. Can you hear it?’

‘Do you think I was born yesterday? I come to the door an’ you’ll shoot me’.

Starsky made a winding motion with his hand, hearing the note of panic in the voice. Take it slow Blondie. Don’t spook him. You’re doin’ great.

‘No, no we won’t. No-one’s gonna shoot you. Promise. If I show you I’m unarmed, d’ya promise to come to the door? You’re gonna have to come out to get to the helicopter. So make it easy huh? The ‘copter is close now’.

Very slowly, Hutch stood from his hiding place, hands above his head and slightly out to his sides showing he was unarmed. He looked directly at the door and muttered under his breath, his lips hardly moving.

‘I can see the guy. He’s got Morris by the throat, but Pat is moving. He’s doin’ great. Not struggling. The guy’s seen me. He’s walking towards the door. c’mon buddy. One more step, that’s it. One more step’.

‘Hutch, get back down here’ Starsky hissed, fearful his partner was taking too great a risk. ‘Hutch!’

The blond stood his ground, eyes fixed on the door to the bank as he saw the robber reach for the handle. He took a swift look around. There were various marksmen hidden behind cars, all out of sight, but the air was tense. Starsky shuffled himself around until he was at the blonde’s feet, shoulder pressed against Hutch’s leg to feel the movements.

The blond continued his low commentary. ‘He’s on his way Starsk. C’mon pal. One more step and we can getcha outside. That’s it, nice and slow’.

He saw the man’s hand on the door handle. He saw the door pull open and Morris was thrust outside as a human shield. Morris stood calmly, his old police training kicking in and telling him to try to stay out of the way. Hutch saw Morris make his move a split second before Pat shouted and ducked.

And then all hell broke loose.

Morris rolled himself onto the floor as the marksmen stood to take a shot at the robber. The guy took a step forward, bringing his own shotgun up and as one of the marksmen fired, the robber’s shot went wild as his arm was flung upwards and he fell with a bone crunching blow to the ground. The policemen around were all shouting, surging forward to cuff the robber and get the hostage out of the way and some were clapping Hutch on the back, telling him he’d done a great first job. The blond felt elated, the adrenaline still surging through his bloodstream and it took him a moment to realise that the one person he hadn’t heard from was his partner. He looked down and fell to his knees in horror.

Starsky as still slumped against his legs, where he’d been during the last moments of the negotiation, but now, his head had fallen forwards on his chest. As Hutch gently reached down to tip the face back, he saw blood and a fresh gash on Starsky’s left temple, almost exactly where the previous injury had been. The robber’s shot had gone wild, and had hit the brunet in the head. The indigo eyes were closed and Starsky was unconscious.

-Epilogue-

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Hutch paced the corridor of the hospital ER department, waiting for news of his partner. His heart was in his mouth. Starsky hadn’t regained consciousness since the shooting and as the paramedics had loaded him into the ambulance, the only casualty in the whole affair, he’d looked pale and was deathly still, although he was still breathing.

Throughout the journey to the hospital, Hutch chanted the same mantra under his breath

Don’t die Starsk, please don’t die. Not now... Please don’t leave me now.

But his chanting did nothing to alleviate his worry and as they unloaded his partner’s body at the other end, he grabbed the payphone and telephoned Dobey. The Captain had already made arrangement s for cover and was on his way down to Memorial where Dr Jefferson was once more on duty.

As was usual, there was a long and deathly wait while the doctor examined the brunet behind the curtained cubicle and when at last he came out, it was to inform Hutch that fortunately the bullet had been a glancing bow, that the wound had been cleaned and stitched and that Starsky was still unconscious and on his way up to a ward.

Hutch followed the gurney, questions flooding his head and he sat down by the side of the brunet’s bed to wait as the doctor tried to answer his questions.

Yes he was concussed.

Yes the bullet wound would leave another scar

No there shouldn’t be any permanent damage apart from a raging headache when the brunet finally woke up.

Hutch looked at the clock 2;00pm. The middle of the afternoon of a day which had changed from elation at having got their first job to once again sitting in the hospital room. Hutch hated the waiting and he felt the need for something to take away the hurt more keenly than he’d ever felt it before. He fought against it with every fibre of his body and would have lost out f his Captain hadn’t shown up, just as he was about to go see what sort of drugs he could wheedle from the nurses.

‘How is he?’ Dobey asked.

‘Unconscious. Doc says he has another concussion. Good job it was his head. Where there’s no sense there’s no feeling’ the blond joked. But the joke was mirthless as both men sat by the bed to wait.

Evening came and went, and with it, Edith. She brought the men an apple pie and some coffee, and while Dobey managed three or four slices, Hutch sipped at the coffee and waited, his mind wandering back over all the other times he’d waited in this same sort of room, sitting on this same sort of chair as he prepared himself fro whatever news there would be of his partner.

During the night, Starsky became restless, his arms and legs kicking out at the bedclothes so much that the doctor on duty was about to give him a sedative. The restlessness became more violent and in his sleep, Starsky moaned and his hands went to his head as though he had terrible pain there. But try as they might neither Hutch nor the doctor could get through to the curly haired man and it was hours before the seizures stopped and once more Starsky slipped into a relaxed sleep.

Dobey slipped away back home as the sun was coming up. Hutch had fallen asleep about an hour ago and he left a note that he would be back later on in the morning. And so neither man saw the beginnings of normal movements from the man in the bed.

Starsky had been in pain for most of the night, but it had felt to him as though he had dreamed the whole thing, the lancing pains in his temples, the psychedelic colours and the smells around him. All seemed to overpower his senses to the extent that he’d wanted to hide his head under the pillow to escape them and at one point he’d tried to cover his eyes to keep them out.

Now, he began to surface from his stupor. He realised that once more he was laid in a bed and he recognised the smell of antiseptic and other things he associated with the hospital. Shit! He was there again. He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness, then closed them again.

Hutch felt the movements and they shook him awake. Slowly he lifted his head from the edge of the bed and looked at the clock on the wall, its luminous hands pointing to 6:30. With a groan he stood, easing the kinks from his back and went to the window, winding back the blinds to let the early morning sun stream into the room. As he looked back at the bed, he saw that Starsky’s eyes were open and the curly haired man had put his arm up to his head.

He crossed to the bed and gently took hold of his partner’s wrist. ‘Don’t touch it Starsk. Doc said to leave it alone’.

Starsky gazed steadily back. ‘You look like shit’ he said slowly.

‘Well, it’s been a long night. You were thra…..what? What did you just say?’

‘I said you look like shit’ the rasping voice said.

‘How can you…you can?….can you… can you see me?’ Hutch asked, almost afraid of the answer.

But the grin on his partner’ face said it all.

‘Uh huh. I had those pains in my head all night. Kinda like it was gonna explode. And towards morning I put my hand up to feel my head and shocked myself coz I could make out a shape. Since then, it’s been getting clearer and clearer. You’re still kinda fuzzy, but I can see those beautiful baby blues’.

Hutch’s face cracked into an enormous grin. ‘Oh shit Starsk. I don’t now what t’say. I’m so….’

‘Happy? Yeah, me too. In fact happy don’t begin to cover it. I’m over the moon. D’ya wanna go get Doc Jefferson? Soon as I can I want out of here’.

‘Well it’s good to see you’re feeling yourself’ Hutch said happily.

‘I always did feel myself’ Starsky said thoughtfully. ‘The only time I didn’t was when I went back to New York before the accident. Then I felt like someone else, but now? I never felt more like myself than when I couldn’t see. It brought us back together and it gave us the opportunity to work together again. Can’t have been all bad’.

‘That’s just what Dan said’ hutch mumbled quietly.

‘Did you see him too?’

‘Yeah, but with the shit I was drinking, I didn’t want to say anything. But he said it was all for a purpose. Maybe that was it. To get us back on a level playing field’.

‘Well if there was ever a next time, let’s hope he could find something a bit less drastic huh?’ Now. where are my pants?’

‘Doc hasn’t said you can go yet’.

‘You’re stalling aren’t ya?’ Starsky said doubtfully. ‘Where are my pants?’

‘Sorry buddy’ Hutch grinned. They cut them off of you. And this time, I don’t even have your watch!’

END