The Ending

1K

I don’t normally like death stories myself. I had to write this one, though.

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“I’m going to the canteen. You want anything?”

Hutch looked up from typing a report to look at his partner. Starsky was waiting for an answer. Hutch checked his watch it was eleven-fifteen a.m. “Starsk, you only had breakfast a couple of hours ago, you can’t be hungry already.”

Starsky smiled slowly. “Got to keep my strength up, partner.”

“Sensible eating’s what you need, buddy. Didn’t you also have a candy bar when we came in this morning?”

Starsky grinned now. “You should be a detective. Anyway, it was on my desk staring at me. What was I to do?” Starsky sighed. “So do you want anything?”

Hutch thought for a moment. They were going to be writing up reports for another couple of hours at least. “I’ll have some milk and a couple of apples if they’ve got any.” He stood up reaching into his pocket for some change.

Starsky seeing him do this waved his hand. “Nah, I’ll get it. What if they haven’t got any apples?”

“Just milk then, Starsk, just milk.” Hutch sat back down in his chair and concentrated once more on the report, as Starsky exited the squad room. He and Starsky both disliked doing reports. Maybe Starsky disliked them more. However, they were going through a quiet time at work, so Captain Dobey had ordered them in to catch up on their paperwork.

Hutch looked up as Tom Delaney came in with an elderly lady. Tom guided her to a seat in the corner, helped her sit down and looked over at Hutch grinning. “So, Mrs. Cooke, you want to tell me about the flasher who’s been bothering you?” he said loud enough for Hutch to hear.

Hutch couldn’t hear Mrs. Cooke’s reply, though he suspected Tom would fill him in on all the details later. He went back to his report again, checking his notes to make sure he was getting the details right. Dan and Pat, two older detectives arrived back at the squad room. Hutch glanced up as they knocked on Captain Dobey’s door, and hearing a bellow on the opposite side, went in closing the door behind them.

“So this man lives opposite your house. Is that correct?” continued Tom. “And if you go into your bedroom, leaving the lights off, you see him taking his clothes off. Is that correct?”

Hutch stifled a laugh, and glanced over at Tom. Tom was struggling to keep a straight face with the lady. Hutch got up and went round to Starsky’s desk looking for a file he knew Starsky had been looking at earlier. He found what he wanted and sat back down at his desk. He took a breath, composing his thoughts, before he began to type again. With the noise the keys were making he couldn’t hear what Tom was saying. Tom reminded him a little of Starsky. He could see the fun side of life. Physically he didn’t resemble him at all, just now and again there was a certain look.

Ten minutes later Hutch finished the report. Tom was explaining to Mrs. Cooke how, as a matter of fact, she could be arrested if her neighbor ever found out she was watching him when he undressed at night. Hutch craned to hear Mrs. Cooke’s answer but it was drowned out by the sound of footsteps running along the corridor.

Hutch looked over to see a young rookie running into the squad room. “Hutchinson,” he called urgently as he ran into the room.

“Yeah,” replied Hutch, already getting to his feet. Starsky was in trouble.

“It’s your partner, sir.”

Hutch didn’t waste time asking questions. As he came out of the squad room the rookie led the way, heading down to the canteen. Hutch could feel his heart start to beat with fear, and calmed himself that Starsky had probably slipped on something and twisted his ankle. They came down the stairs and turned into the hallway leading to the canteen. Hutch could see a crowd of detectives and patrolmen standing there, and hear voices shouting instructions, giving advice.

When they saw Hutch they parted, to allow him through. There, lying on the floor, was Starsky. He must have hit his head on the ground, or something, as he slipped. He was unconscious. Suddenly the fear returned. His body was reluctant to let him go towards Starsky. He was afraid of what he might find.

Gerry Farmer, a vice detective, who had been kneeling by Starsky’s side, stood up and put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “What happened?” whispered Hutch not taking his eyes off Starsky.

“Hutch. I’m sorry. He’s dead. Starsky’s dead.”

Hutch turned his head slowly to look at Gerry. Tried to comprehend what Gerry had just said. He looked back to Starsky, and fell to his knees by his side. He needed to do something. Why was everybody standing around when Starsky needed help. He began to do CPR, but felt Gerry pull him back, “Ken, it’s no use, we’ve tried. He’s gone, Ken.”

Hutch shrugged Gerry’s hands off him, and continued with the CPR, checked Starsky’s airways were clear, breathed for him. Counting out the time, begging Starsky to come back to him, calling for an ambulance, praying for a miracle. Nothing. He was getting nothing. No pulse. “Starsky. No!” he cried, scooping Starsky’s body up into his arms, and sitting with his back against the wall. Cradling him. Talking to him.

Gerry crouched down beside him, reached out his hand and put it on Hutch’s shoulder. “Hutch, please. Come on let me take him. We’ll take care of him now.”

Hutch shook his head, holding Starsky closer to him. He looked around the floor and saw the carton of milk Starsky had fetched for him. Apples too, Starsky had bought apples for him. A sandwich, donuts and coke. All scattered on the floor.

Starsky’s body was still warm. If he held him close, kept him warm, maybe Starsky could still come back to him. He looked down at Starsky’s face. His beautiful partner. The best friend he would ever have. He couldn’t be gone. He kissed Starsky’s forehead, his skin was cooling. He held Starsky, closer still, to keep him warm. He noticed Starsky’s hand held out to the side; he reached for it and held it tightly, never wanting to let go.

Dobey appeared on the scene. Starsky was dead. He’d just been told. His mind was full of thoughts of Starsky. He was so full of life, had been through so much. How could he be dead? As he had turned into the hallway, he knew the memory of Hutch cradling his partner’s lifeless body in his arms would stay with him forever. He ran a hand down his face. He couldn’t think of what to say. Fortunately the paramedics arrived at that precise moment. Dobey had nothing to do but wait for them.

One of the two paramedics crouched down by Hutch’s side. He assured Hutch that they would take care of his partner. That they needed to see him. Hutch reluctantly let Starsky’s body go. The other paramedic assisted his partner. They began to check for signs of life, asking questions, trying to find out when Starsky had been discovered. Hutch stayed on the floor, watching, listening.

Gerry Farmer was speaking. He said he had seen Starsky in the canteen. He was fine. Laughing and joking. Starsky had left. Then Gerry heard a clatter as the tray Starsky was carrying must have hit the ground. He ran into the corridor and found Starsky collapsed against the wall, sliding to the floor. He just slid to the floor, peacefully. When Gerry got to him, he’d stopped breathing. He’d started CPR but Starsky never regained consciousness.

Hutch listened to it all. Watched the paramedics working on Starsky. Starsky was gone. He knew it himself now. He didn’t need to see the first paramedic look at Dobey, and shake his head. How could Starsky die in the station hallway? He’d survived so much. Survived Gunther.

He reached for Starsky once more. Dobey quickly put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. With a nod to Gerry Farmer they both helped Hutch to his feet, led him away from Starsky. Hutch tried to resist. He didn’t want to leave Starsky. He should be with him. But he was too stunned. Starsky was dead.

Dobey and Gerry, walked back with him to Dobey’s office. Sat him in a chair. They were talking. He didn’t hear them. Starsky was dead. No. Any minute now Starsky would come walking in. Laughing. Some joke. Starsky wouldn’t pull anything like that. Starsky was dead. Hutch closed his eyes, he could see Starsky, hear Starsky. A sob caught in his throat, as he realised that was all he would have of Starsky now. Memories. No physical touch. No more time together. No growing old together. No more Starsky. He was gone. Starsky was dead.

Hutch didn’t know how long he was sitting there. A knock came at the office door. Gerry’s partner Rob Edwards stepped into the office. He handed Dobey a gun and shield. Starsky’s. The coroner’s team, who had come to take Starsky’s body, had removed them. Dobey glanced at Hutch, then quickly stored them away in his desk draw.

“Hutch, I want you to go home, take as much time as you need.”

“Yeah,” Hutch rubbed his eyes. No point staying here. Dobey was right. They’d come in the Torino this morning. It was parked in the police garage. The garage where Starsky had almost died. Had Starsky just been living on borrowed time? He’d fought so hard to get well. Gone through so much pain. For what?

Hutch stood up and went out into the squad room. Dobey followed him. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” whispered Hutch. He looked over at Starsky’s desk. Starsky’s jacket was on the back of the chair. Like Starsky was coming back. Hutch hesitated to touch it and then picked it up. Held it close.

“I’ll drive you back, Hutch. Wait here.”

Hutch stood still. They’d wanted him out of the way. Wanted him out of there, so they could bag Starsky’s body. Take his body to the morgue. Let him lie in that cold, awful place, by himself. Dobey came back. Took his arm. Led him out of the station.

“Captain. Would you drop me off at The Pits? Huggy’ll be there. I have to tell him.” Hutch caught a sob. “I have to tell his mother”.

“I think you might be best going home, son,” advised Dobey. “I can call Huggy for you. Call Starsky’s mother.”

“No thanks, Captain. I’ll do it. Please take me to The Pits.”

Dobey sighed. This was a nightmare he was living through. Hutch was in shock. He daren’t imagine what would happen when Hutch realised he had to live life without Starsky. Last time he’d seen Starsky he’d bawled him out over his last report. His last report. How true that was. He was always bawling at Starsky over something or other. He didn’t know why. He loved the man like a son. Correction. He’d loved the man like a son.

They drove in silence to The Pits. Hutch didn’t want to speak and Dobey couldn’t think of what to say. When they got there Dobey squeezed Hutch’s shoulder and let him go. He watched as his detective walked into the bar, out of sight, then drove back to the station. He had to tell Edith.

The lunchtime trade was busy that afternoon. Huggy was serving burgers at the far end of the bar. He looked over and saw Hutch. Hutch looked like death. He was holding Starsky’s jacket. “Oh, Lord, no,” he said walking, slowly over to Hutch. Hutch didn’t have to say anything. Starsky was dead.

Huggy led the way over to an empty booth and sat Hutch down in it. “Can you talk about it?” he asked.

“He just died, Hug,” whispered Hutch. So quiet that Huggy hardly caught the words. Hutch bit down on his lip, his body shook but he wouldn’t let the tears fall. Huggy waited for Hutch to compose himself. After a while, Hutch continued. “Just at the station, Hug. Starsky had gone to the canteen, to get something. He just died, Hug. I wasn’t there.” A sob escaped from Hutch, a raw animal cry. Hutch put his hand over his mouth to stop it, fought the tears, fought the realisation. “I should have been with him. He was on his own. And I wasn’t there.”

Huggy didn’t know what to do. Hutch had come to him and he didn’t know what to do. Starsky always knew. Starsky could judge Hutch’s moods perfectly. He always knew how to bring him round, get his way. He’d have known what to say. Starsky was dead.

“Would you take me to the morgue, Hug?” Hutch asked.

Huggy was stunned by the request. “What do you want to go there for, Hutch? Maybe it’s better I take you home.”

“I want to go to the morgue. I want to see Starsky.”

Huggy reached for Hutch’s hand. “No. Not like that. Hutch, let me take you home.”

Hutch shook his head, “I don’t want to go home, Hug. If you won’t take me I’ll get a cab. I need to see him, Huggy.”

“But he’s gone.”

“I just want to see him.” Hutch sounded so pitiful. Looked so lost.

Huggy stood up, “C’mon then, Hutch. Morgue it is.” He reached into the pocket of his pants and got his car keys out. He’d only recently bought a new Ford. Starsky helped him go pick it. They’d had a good day. Starsky had got a good deal for him. Wanted him to get a paint job off Merle, said it would make the car even classier

They walked out of the bar and to the parking lot at the back where Huggy had left his car. Then they drove over to the morgue in silence. Hutch still holding Starsky’s jacket close to him. It was something tangible of Starsky’s, the only thing he had. Hutch stared out of the window watching all the people go about their lives. His world had turned on its axis. Starsky was dead. Things would never be the same again.

Hutch was familiar with the morgue. Working murder cases brought you into it a lot. Jeff Everett met them on their way in. He’d been saddened to see Starsky’s body arrive. He couldn’t say he was surprised though. He always thought that one day or another the partner’s luck would run out. “Ken, I’m sorry about Starsky. I know how close the two of you were.”

Hutch nodded. He looked to the floor, “I’d like to see him.”

Jeff assumed that Ken hadn’t been around when Starsky died. Needed to see his partner’s body. It wouldn’t be a good memory though. He nodded in reply and turned and walked down the hallway, the two men following him. Turning right he then went into the first room on the left. Checking a clipboard to locate the correct cabinet he went to the second one in and pulled out the body. “He’s just been put here,” he explained, “only just arrived.” He pulled back the sheet to reveal Starsky. “I’ll leave you alone. Take all the time you need.” With that he left.

Hutch tentatively reached out a hand to place it on Starsky’s shoulder. It was cold. The whole room was cold. He turned to glance at Huggy. Huggy was overcome with emotion. Accepting Starsky’s death and grieving for a friend. He couldn’t speak. Huggy shook his head; tears running freely down his face. He went out leaving Hutch alone. Alone with Starsky.

Starsky’s sapphire blue eyes were closed. His lips were pale. Hutch bent forward to kiss those lips. Wishing with all his heart, that like Sleeping Beauty, Starsky would wake up. He didn’t. Despite everything Hutch found himself smiling. He was no Prince Charming after all.

“Hey, buddy,” he whispered. “What did you go and leave me on my own for? Huh?” The tears welled up in Hutch’s eyes and he couldn’t speak for fear he would roar in pain and sorrow. A tear fell on Starsky’s cheek. Hutch wiped it away. He composed himself, began again. “Wonder what people would say if they knew I hadn’t just lost my best friend and partner? Wonder what they’d say if they knew I’d lost my soul mate and lover too? I can’t tell anyone, Starsk. I just want to treasure the memories of us together. Keep them to myself, not share with anyone. I love you, Starsk. I’ll always love you. Just because I won’t see you day by day doesn’t mean that love will change. You hear me?”

Hutch caressed Starsky’s face, bent forward to kiss those perfect lips again, unable to say goodbye. Starsky’s lips that had kissed him so passionately, just that morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “Wish we’d realised sooner. The way we felt about each other. We didn’t have too much time together did we? I should have said something sooner. I didn’t know you felt the same way, though. I was too scared to say anything. I’m sorry, Starsk, I should have known I could tell you anything. I’m so sorry I wasn’t with you…when you died.” Hutch had to stop. Starsky was dead. Oh God, please no!

Hutch’s face crumpled with pain. He looked down at Starsky. He was so beautiful both inside and out. Starsky wouldn’t have wanted to be the cause of so much pain. He took a breath, steadied himself once more. “I wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, Starsk. I wanted to grow old with you, spend eternity with you. Thanks for the time we had, though, buddy.” Hutch wanted to say more but the heartache wouldn’t let him. He felt the physical pain of grief like an icy hand gripping at his heart. Soaking in Starsky’s face for the final time he gently placed the sheet back and closed the drawer.

Jeff saw him on his way out. “The coroner’s scheduled a full autopsy for tomorrow morning,” he said, “after that they’ll release his body for the funeral.” Hutch nodded but kept walking.

Huggy was waiting outside for him. No words were spoken. Hutch had left Starsky’s jacket in Huggy’s car. He picked it up and held it close once more. Huggy offered to come in to Venice Place with Hutch. Hutch didn’t want any company. He thanked Huggy and then went inside.

He leaned against the door. Closing his eyes he could see Starsky joking with him as they left that morning. Starsky had been teasing him about an old girlfriend, who’d phoned Hutch, trying to fix up a date. He had been imitating Hutch’s stuttered refusal, saying he was involved with someone else. Hutch opened his eyes and walked over to the kitchen. Their breakfast things were still on the table, unwashed. They were late this morning. Starsky had woken him with a kiss; the kiss awoke both their passions.

Placing Starsky’s jacket over the back of the chair Hutch took off his own then removed his gun. He wandered into the bedroom. The sheets were as they’d left them. He moved around to Starsky’s side. The indentation Starsky’s head had made on the pillow was still there. Hutch lay down on the mattress, carefully placing his head on the pillow. Breathing in, he could smell Starsky. He treasured it. Soon all he would have would be photographs and memories. The thought of this brought the pain back even stronger. Now he could let go. He could grieve for Starsky. He gripped the pillow tightly as the tears rained down.

After a sleepless night Hutch got up and made himself a cup of coffee. He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and then dressed. He wandered around the place. Stopping to study framed pictures of Starsky and himself together. Starsky holding him. Smiling back at him. The silence of the room surrounded him. The place was empty without Starsky in it. He picked up his gun and jacket and hurried out. He got into his car not knowing where to go then found himself at Parker Center. He felt maybe he would somehow be nearer to Starsky at the station and walked inside.

Tom Delaney was in the squad room, typing yet another report. He looked awkward as Hutch arrived, expressed his sadness at Starsky’s death. Hutch sat down at Starsky’s desk. The half drunk cup of coffee was still on it, as well as the screwed up candy bar wrapper. Hutch opened the wrapper and smiled a little. A peanut bar. Starsky’s favorite. Starsky had left a report open on his desk. The Mitchell case. Starsky had been waiting for lab results.

He looked at the phone. He realised he hadn’t called Starsky’s mother. He would call her later. He would break her heart too. Later.

Dan and Pat came in. They looked surprised to see Hutch. Hutch was aware that he was making people feel awkward. He had nowhere else to be, though. He looked down at the report. He would go down to the lab and get the test results. As he walked out of the squad room he heard the others talking. Maybe he shouldn’t have come in. He had nowhere else to go.

Walking down the hallway he saw Dobey at the candy bar machine. Dobey picked up several candy bars from the machine and pocketed them. Turning, he saw Hutch. “I told you to take some time off.”

“I’m okay, Captain. I just want to keep busy.”

“You look like shit. Have you eaten anything?”

Hutch shook his head, “I couldn’t.”

“Don’t want you ill, Hutch. Starsky wouldn’t want it either.” He handed Hutch a candy bar. “Here, eat this at least.”

Hutch looked down at the candy bar. It was a peanut bar. “Okay, Captain.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Down to the lab. See if the results are back for the Mitchell case.”

Dobey nodded, placed a hand on Hutch’s shoulder, squeezed it, then he walked on.

Hutch went down the stairs to the lab. He absently unwrapped the candy bar and took a mouthful. He was hungry. He just didn’t have any appetite. It was sugary, not to Hutch’s taste at all. He looked around for a trash can, he couldn’t find one. He walked into the lab. Cheryl was there working on some experiment. She turned around to see who had come in through the door. Gasping in surprise she dropped the beaker in her hand.

“Cheryl, I’m sorry.” Hutch hurried to help her pick up the shards of glass. Maybe he should go. He was making people uncomfortable. Picking up the largest pieces of glass he looked at Cheryl. Her eyes were focused on the candy bar that Hutch had placed on the counter.

“Oh God, Hutch, I’m so sorry,” she began.

“No. No, it’s my fault Cheryl. Guess I shouldn’t have come in. I should go…”

He paused, realising that Cheryl was still looking at the candy bar.

“I just wanted to make father love me.”

Hutch was surprised and confused by the sudden confession. “What have you done, Cheryl?” He looked at the candy bar. Starsky had found one on his desk yesterday morning. He’d eaten it. “The candy bar. Did you?”

“Oh, Hutch, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. Just he kept begging me. Said I owed it to him.”

Hutch took Cheryl by the arms. Shaking her. Angry. “What have you done, Cheryl?”

“I poisoned the candy bar,” she confessed, biting her lip.

“You killed, Starsky?”

Cheryl shook her head, “No. I couldn’t do that. Not to Starsky. He’s not dead. Just in a deep sleep. Deep enough to appear dead. Adrenaline. Adrenaline will wake him.”

“The autopsy.” If they went ahead with the autopsy…

Hutch ran out of the lab, along the hallway to his car. The Torino was in the car park, that would be faster. He reached into his pocket for the spare keys Starsky had given him long ago. Firing the engine into life, and roaring away to the morgue he got on the police radio asking to be patched through to Dobey. Once through he quickly explained what had happened, asked Dobey to phone the morgue, stop the autopsy, get an ambulance and arrest Cheryl.

He didn’t give himself time to think as he negotiated through the busy Bay City streets. The morgue wasn’t far away, it just felt like it. He skidded up to a halt outside. He got out quickly, running up the steps and then along the hallway to the room Starsky was in. He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead. He ran into the room, ran to the drawer and opened it. Starsky wasn’t there.

Bursting out into the hallway he ran opening every door. Coming to an office he heard a phone ringing unanswered. Where the hell was everybody? Carrying on his door-by-door, room-by-room search he located the room where Starsky was. The autopsy room. Starsky was lying naked on a table, a man with a scalpel standing over him. Hutch drew his gun, “Police! Freeze!” he yelled.

“What the?” exclaimed the man.

“He’s not dead,” explained Hutch, rushing over to the table. Starsky was untouched except for a small nick on his skin where the Coroner was about to slice him open. “He’s not dead,” Hutch repeated. Looking around for a sheet he wrapped Starsky in it. “There’s an ambulance on its way. Please go guide the paramedics in. He needs adrenaline.”

The Coroner put the scalpel down. Edging his way out of the room he then left it at a run. Hutch lifted Starsky into his arms, kissed his forehead. Starsky’s skin was so pale, snow white. “It’s okay, Starsk, I’m here. I’m never letting you go.” He held Starsky close to him. Hoping to warm Starsky’s body, help to restore the life to it. Where the hell was the ambulance?

The paramedics arrived. They had never been called to a morgue before. They hurried into the autopsy room and saw a man holding a corpse in his arms, asking them to inject it with adrenaline. The call had come from a Captain Dobey. They prepared a shot of adrenaline, just to humor the man.

Hutch wouldn’t let Starsky go as they injected the adrenaline straight into Starsky’s heart. Hutch held his breath and suddenly, like a light being switched on, Starsky was breathing for the two of them. He gulped in air like a drowning man. Hutch held Starsky tighter to him as the sapphire blue eyes opened to look upon him.

The paramedics, at first frozen in surprise, leapt into action. They checked Starsky’s pulse and blood pressure and had a gurney brought in ready to transport him to the hospital.

“Hush,” Starsky gasped. “Oh, Hush.”

“It’s okay, Starsk, it’s over. I got you back. I got you back.”

Hutch held onto Starsky’s hand as Starsky was moved out of Hutch’s arms and onto the gurney. He didn’t let go. When they got to the hospital Dobey was waiting for them. Starsky had revived a little more in the ambulance. “Hey, Cap,” he said softly as they wheeled him into ER. Hutch was told to wait outside and reluctantly let go of Starsky’s hand.

“Well. I’ll be,” exclaimed Dobey. He grinned at Hutch and then embraced him. “I thought you’d lost the plot, Hutch,” he laughed.

“It was the candy bar, Captain. Cheryl saw me with it and must have assumed I’d worked it out. She said about her father…”

“She visits him every week, Hutch. I know that much. He must have got to her. She had the know-how and she was able to plant the candy bar on Starsky’s desk without suspicion. You know your partner’s sweet tooth, Hutchinson. Haven’t you been warning him for years it would get him into trouble?”

“I never thought it would be this much trouble,” said Hutch.

Doctor Franklin was called down to ER. He nodded a greeting to Hutch as he went through the door to Starsky. Dobey went to fetch coffee. Hutch pushed his hands into his pockets and found a dime. Smiling to himself he located a phone and called The Pits.

“Huggy Bear,” came the voice. Hutch noted the sadness.

“Hug, it’s Hutch. Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, man, anything.”

“Could you call by Starsky’s place and pick him up some clothes?”

“Starsky’s? Now? Today? Oh man, can’t it wait?”

“No he’s going to be asking me for his pants and this time I’d like to have them ready.”

“Hutch…are you feeling okay? You haven’t been taking anything?”

Hutch laughed. “I’m fine, Hug. Just fine. I’m at Memorial with Starsky. He’s not dead, Hug. Starsky’s alive. He’s alive.”

“I’m on my way,” came the reply as the phone went dead.

Heading back to Dobey, and taking a drink of the offered coffee, Hutch watched the door for Doctor Franklin to appear. A nurse came out of the room and rushed away. He wanted to see Starsky again, to reassure himself he truly was alive. “Captain, if the autopsy…”

“Don’t think about it, Hutch.”

“Cheryl said she couldn’t kill him. How could she leave him to be killed by the autopsy?”

Doctor Franklin came out of the room and headed over to the two of them. He was smiling. He looked at Hutch. “Your partner’s fine. Just fine. The adrenaline seems to be all he needed to combat whatever was in that candy bar. I’ve ordered some blood tests to be run, just to be sure. Once we get the results back, and all being well, you can take your partner home. You can go and see him now, he’s been asking for you.

Dobey said he was going to call the station, arrange for the Torino to be collected from the morgue and taken back to the police garage. Hutch nodded, grateful to have the chance to see Starsky, on his own. He pushed open the door and walked in.

Starsky was sitting up on the gurney; he had been dressed in one of the hospital gowns he hated so much. He grinned at Hutch. “Hey, partner, he said.

A nurse who had been tidying up in the room left, leaving the two of them alone. Hutch hurried to Starsky wrapping him in his arms, embracing him, feeling the warmth of his body.

“Missed me, huh?” whispered Starsky.

Hutch lifted his head from Starsky’s shoulder, his tear-filled eyes gazing on his life partner. He kissed Starsky, full on the lips. “If only you knew how much,” he replied. He began to laugh, relief pouring through him. Starsky was alive.

Dobey came in to the room. He was grinning too. He could stop grieving. He had called Edith and told her, had laughed to hear her screams of joy and thanks to God. He put his hand on Starsky’s arm, feeling the life there. “You gave us a scare, Starsky, don’t do it again,” he said, doing his best to sound churlish.

“I’ll try not to, Cap’n,” smiled Starsky. “Hutch, told me in the ambulance, about Cheryl…”

“She’s under arrest, Starsky.”

“She needs help, Cap’n. She was good to me…when her father…”

“She needs putting away,” snapped Hutch.

Starsky put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder and gave him a look of a disapproving father to a son. “She needs help, Hutch. It must have been hard for her. You know how much she loved her father…how much he rejected her love.”

Hutch sighed. “I’m just glad you’re alive, Starsk.”

Starsky raised his hand up to his chest. “Yeah. Talk about the nick of time.”

“I’m heading back to the station,” said Dobey. “Call me later, Hutch.”

“I will, Captain.”

Dobey took a long look at Starsky. “Don’t worry,” he assured him. “I’ll make sure Cheryl gets all the help she needs”. He left them alone once more.

Hutch had been aching to hold Starsky in his arms once more. He moved round and then shot back quickly as a nurse came in the room. Starsky laughed. “Can’t wait to get me home, huh?”

“Somewhere a little more private,” whispered Hutch. Just then the door opened again and both of them looked up to see Huggy, holding a bundle of Starsky’s clothes. He took one look at Starsky and collapsed in a faint. “I got your pants,” said Hutch.

After Hutch had helped the nurses to revive Huggy, and Doctor Franklin had seen the blood test results, Starsky was released from hospital. Huggy gave them a ride back to Venice Place. Hutch called Dobey. He told them to take a couple of days off, and then get back to finish their reports.

Starsky had headed to the bathroom to freshen up. Hutch went to make coffee and something to eat. Starsky emerged from the bathroom, his hair wet, wearing his jeans, his shirt open, barefoot. He smiled at Hutch and made his way over to the table and sat down. Hutch reached to take Starsky’s hand and didn’t let it go as they ate and drank. “Feel better?” Hutch asked.

“Yeah. Probably feel better in a little while,” he grinned.

Hutch grinned back. “What do you have in mind?”

“Think I’d like to lie down for a while…with a certain blond who’s crazy ’bout me.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” laughed Hutch. He stood up and led the way to the bedroom. He was eager to get naked, to feel Starsky inside of him. Feel the life inside of him.

Starsky pressed Hutch against the bedroom wall, undoing his shirt buttons, unbuttoning his pants, lowering the zip, pushing them down. Starsky’s mouth had found his and was pressing down hard, his tongue seeking entrance to which Hutch gladly obliged. Starsky pulled back, smiling. “So you want to grow old with me?”

“What makes you think…”

“You love me…you’ll always love me.”

“Starsk? You heard? You could hear?”

Starsky ran his fingers gently through Hutch’s golden hair. He nodded.

Hutch pulled away from Starsky. He sat on the mattress, reaching for Starsky once more. “Oh, babe…”

“It was scary, ” admitted Starsky, then he grinned. “Yeah, I couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but then I heard you, Hutch. I heard your words, and the very sound of them filled my heart with so much love for you, that I should have come back to life right then. You love me, so much. Yeah, I heard you and it was worth every moment of fear.”

He pushed Hutch back onto the mattress and lay on top of him, seeking his mouth once more, kissing his neck, shoulders, undressing him. Hutch responded; he needed this man so much. “I thought it was the end,” he whispered.

“Oh no,” laughed Starsky. “This is just the beginning.”