Fall and Rise

Used to be, when one of us fell, the other would be there to pick him back up, dust him off, get him going again. Used to be.

Written for the LiveJournal starskyhutch911 20-min challenge #5; prompt words: leaves, fall.

Post-SvH, can be read with or without slash goggles, I think.

Used to be, when one of us fell, the other would be there to pick him back up, dust him off, get him going again. Hell, used to be we’d be there to catch the other so they wouldn’t have to fall at all.

Used to be.

Now, I’ve fallen so hard, so far, I don’t even know how to find my way back. I don’t know where to look, where to start.

It wasn’t even that I wanted to sleep with Kira. Not really. Maybe it was more that I didn’t want Starsky to sleep with her. Which… yeah, that’s a distinction that isn’t going to stand a lot of scrutiny.

I tried to leave. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I would have, but then she said—

No, no excuses. It doesn’t matter what she said, what matters is that I bought it; hook, line, and sinker. So damn stupid. I should have left, I should have been long gone before Starsky ever showed up. That look on his face….

They say you only hurt the one you love. Well. Great job, Hutchinson.

Kira’s call, asking to meet tomorrow, proved one thing to me, anyway. I have no desire to see her again, romantically or otherwise. I guess, if Starsky still wants her, I’ll have to figure out a way to make my peace with her.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The question is, will Starsky still want to see me?

I don’t know if I can make things right between us, but I have to try. For the sake of our partnership, for our friendship. If there’s the slightest chance of salvaging our relationship, I have to take it. I can’t let him go.

I grab my jacket and keys and run out the door… and run headlong into Starsky.

We fall in a tangle of arms and legs, swearing and groaning. Automatically, I reach for his arm at the same time he reaches for mine, and we haul each other to our feet. We stand there like that for a minute.

Then he says, “I think we need to talk, Hutch.”

He’s still angry, and the coldness in his eyes promises this ‘talk’ won’t be an easy one.

But he’s here. And he picked me back up.

Maybe I haven’t fallen as far as I thought. Maybe there’s a way back to us, after all.