If You’d Got There Too Late

40

Starsky is home from the hospital after the abduction by the followers of Marcus. He’s not saying much but there’s something on his mind.

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Starsky hadn’t said much since he’d left the hospital. After what he’d been through, Hutch couldn’t blame him. He watched as his exhausted friend crawled into bed and fell asleep, giving thanks that he had found Starsky in time to save him. He hoped his friend would get several hours undisturbed sleep but Starsky woke only half an hour later, screaming from a nightmare that left him breathing hard and shaking all over. He reached out to Hutch as if checking he was real. Hutch soothed his partner and watched over him as he drifted off once more into a fitful sleep.

Dobey rang early in the evening to say the trial would go ahead the next day and that the abduction and torture of Starsky had been added to the long list of charges that would be put to Simon Marcus. The judge had agreed that only Hutch need testify as Starsky would still be recovering.

Hutch thanked his Captain for the update.

“How’s he doing?” Dobey asked.

“Exhausted, but having trouble sleeping.”

“To be expected,” Dobey said.

They had both seen the state of the few live victims. Fragile. Broken. Tormented. But most of Marcus’s victims were dead and they both knew Starsky was lucky to be alive.

“He’ll be okay,” Dobey said, trying to reassure them both. “If he needs more help than you can give him, call me. The department will provide whatever is needed.”

“Thanks,” Hutch said and he meant it.

“Get some rest, son, and when he wakes tell him I’ll visit tomorrow if he feels up to it.”

“Thanks.”

Hutch replaced the receiver and went to check on Starsky. He was curled into a tight ball but he was asleep. Hutch replaced the covers but left him as he was. Sleep was what Starsky needed most of…that and to talk – when he was ready.

He set about making a meal that Starsky would enjoy, intermittently checking his partner was still sleeping. He’d just put the pot roast in when he heard a small anguished cry that sent a shiver through him.

He hurried to his partner and found him sitting up against the headboard, shrinking back from something only he could see and murmuring, “Please, please, don’t.”

Hutch approached him carefully, softly calling his partner’s name and telling him he was safe. The wild, frightened stare gradually softened and suddenly Starsky recognised him.

“Hutch?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Hutch sat down beside him and placed a hand on Starsky’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Everything hurts.”

Hutch checked the time. “You can have some painkillers. I’ll get them. And you can put some of that burns cream on you face.” Hutch handed him the tube. “Or I can do it if you want?”

Starsky shook his head. “I can manage.”

Hutch nodded and went to get water and the painkillers the doctor had prescribed. He handed them over and waited while Starsky swallowed them down.

“I’ve got dinner cooking. Should be ready in half an hour if you feel like eating.”

Starsky nodded.

Hutch hesitated then asked, “You want to talk about what happened?”

Starsky looked down. Hutch waited. Starsky drew in a sharp breath and Hutch went still. He seemed to feel the pain his partner was in and wished he could ease it for him.

Starsky drew his knees up to his body and encircled them with one arm. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand, hiding his eyes. Hutch gently placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, offering support.

Starsky struggled to speak, the words coming out in broken pieces. “Me and Thee…Knew you’d come…But too late…Didn’t want you…like them, like them, Hutch.”

Hutch squeezed Starsky’s shoulder.

“Jenkins’s place…like them, like them…Frightened..frightened for you…That you’d see…” Starsky was gasping now but had uncovered his eyes and was looking at Hutch through tears.

Suddenly, Hutch understood and he nodded. He looked away and wiped at his own face, trying to erase his own memories of what he’d seen and what he’d been afraid he might see again.

The Jenkins’s place had been the last location that they had found before arresting Marcus. Both of them had been sick to their stomachs at what they’d seen there. All day yesterday, the greatest fear running through Hutch had been that he would find his partner too late; find him mutilated and burned until he was unrecognisable. Starsky had faced the fear of his own mortality but had also been afraid for his partner and what it would do to him if Hutch found him too late.

Hutch turned to face his partner, best friend and brother. He leaned towards Starsky and their heads met. Starsky’s breathing gradually evened out.

“Hutch.”

The whispered word was both an acknowledgement of gratitude and an enquiry. Hutch drew back to answer.

“A tiny part of me was afraid I’d find you too late,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t stop to let that thought take hold. I had to tell myself over and over that I would find you alive.”

Starsky grasped Hutch’s shoulder as he said, “You found me.”

“I found you.”

“I dreamt you found me and…and then they got you and they killed you…but we’re both here, we’re both alive.”

“We’re both alive. We made it.”

Starsky yawned and leaned back, nodding. “We made it,” he echoed.

Hutch squeezed his friend’s shoulder and then stood up.

“Get some more sleep and then we’ll eat.”

With the hint of a smile, Starsky said, “I could eat now.”

Hutch smiled; if Starsky’s appetite was returning that was a good sign.

“Well, we’d better feed you then,” he said with a smile that was mirrored. Hutch held out his hand and pulled Starsky up onto his feet. He kept a steadying hand under Starsky’s elbow. “I got you, partner.”

Starsky glanced at him and nodded thanks – thanks for the now, thanks for this morning and thanks for always being there.