Kiss the Ice to Feel the Heat

A shooting. A Dream. Kissing the Ice. Feeling the Heat.

“Hutch! Down!” Starsky lifted his gun and pointed it right at Hutch, waiting for him to drop so he could shoot the man sneaking up on him. Hutch looked over at him. They did this all the time. Shout and the other dropped. He sighted on Hutch’s left shoulder, where the bad guy should be visible. Three seconds. That was their response time.

One-one-thousand. Two-one-thousand. Three-one-thousand. Gun steady. Squeeze the trigger. Hear the shot. See the flash at the muzzle. Follow the path of the bullet. All in the blink of the eye.

Raising his eyes to Hutch’s for that silent instant communication that all was right and they could continue to fight the bad guys together.

Only to see Hutch drop his gun and clutch his left chest. His eyes on Starsky, wide in disbelief. Blink. Blink. Then closing as he slid to the ground, almost in slow motion.

Starsky fired again, almost instinctively, to hit the man who was now visible where Hutch had been. Seeing him fall back behind where Hutch lay unmoving. “Huuuuuutchhh! Call an ambulance! Officer down! Hutch?”

Starsky glanced down the alley to see officers move to take the other shooters into custody. He ran across the open space and fell to his knees next to his partner. He saw a large amount of blood on Hutch’s jacket, over his left chest. He tried to find a pulse on his neck, but his hand was shaking too much. “Hutch? Hey, talk to me. Hutch, please?”

There was no reply or movement from Hutch. He felt his neck again, but couldn’t feel a pulse. “I need a medic, NOW!!” He bent to position Hutch’s head to start CPR, giving him two deep breaths. Moving to perform chest compressions.

Every time he pushed on Hutch’s chest, more blood poured out of the hole his bullet had made. Each time he bent to blow air into Hutch’s mouth, he felt how cold his lips were.

He had no idea that he kept repeating over and over. “No, Hutch, don’t die. I’m sorry. Don’t die. I’m sorry.”

Two officers pulled him away from Hutch, but not without a lot of force. EMTs instantly took over care of Hutch. Within a few minutes, he was loaded into an ambulance and headed to the hospital.

Dobey was standing by Starsky, holding on to him to keep him from getting in the ambulance. “There’s no room, Starsky. They need room to work on him. To save him. Come on, I’ll take you to the ER.”

But Starsky just stood and stared at the huge pool of blood where Hutch had been lying. “No, no, no. Hutch? Why didn’t you drop? I yelled. Why didn’t you drop? Hutch?”

THREE MONTHS LATER

“STARSKY!!”

“Wake up! buddy, wake up! You’re scaring me! Starsk!”

Hutch grabbed Starsky by both shoulders and shook him. Not getting a response he slapped him on the cheek, hard enough to leave a handprint. “Starsky. Wake up! It’s me, I’m okay. Come on wake up. I’m here, I’m okay.”

He felt Starsky stop thrashing around so much. “Starsk, come on. Open your eyes. It was a dream, babe. Open your eyes. Starsk!”

“H-H-Hutch? You’re alive? I didn’t shoot you?” Starsky stared at his partner in disbelief. “But it was so real. So much blood. Dobey was there. You were…dead… Oh God!” Starsky grabbed Hutch and put his head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Loud and strong.

“Shhhh, it’s ok. I’m alive. You had a dream. I’m here. I’m alive. Shhhhhh, lover, shhhh.” He knew he would have to wait for him to be totally awake before they could talk about it. Starsky had such a fierce grip on his arms he also knew he would have fingerprint bruises on both arms in the morning. He held Starsky just as close, murmuring assurances and love. Trying to dispel the nightmare.

Starsky leaned back just far enough to see the still-red scar on his chest, right above his heart. He reached up to touch it. “Oh, God, I DID shoot you!” He pulled Hutch tighter and tucked his head into Hutch’s neck.

“No, no babe, YOU didn’t shoot me.” Hutch carefully pushed his lover back away from him. “That’s the EXIT wound. The bad guy shot me, your shot missed. I think you realized at the last second that I wasn’t dropping and you moved so you wouldn’t hit me. You just dreamed you shot me. Remember the shrink telling you that you might have dreams about this? Because I did almost die.”

Starsky nodded.

“But your love pulled me back. Kept me here. Made me want to live. I’m here because of you, Starsk, and your love.”

“I-I kissed you, Hutch. Your lips were so cold. YOU were so cold.” Starsky still wasn’t totally awake.

“Starsk, you had a dream. A mix of what happened and what you THOUGHT happened.” Hutch pushed till Starsky was laying down on the bed under him. “Kiss me now, lover.”

Hutch bent down, pressing his lips against Starsky’s. His tongue slipped into Starsky’s mouth. Exploring, touching everywhere. Exchanging air. Breathing each other in and out. Heads tilted for a better fit, closer. Hutch pulled back and planted tiny nipping kisses all over Starsky’s mouth.

“Was that icy, Starsk?” When Starsky shook his head ‘no’, Hutch continued. “It’s like my grandfather once told me, ‘You must kiss the ice, to feel the heat.'”

Starsky looked at him. Blinked. “What does that mean?”

“I think it means, sometimes, you have to almost lose something before you can really appreciate it.” Hutch smiled. “At least that’s how I took it. I never did ask him what it meant.”

“Well, bring me some more of that icy mouth of yours, I wanna feel more heat!”

Hutch obliged him.

And then some.