That Which Doesn’t Kill Us

297

Hutch has to go home to visit his family shortly after recovering from the Plague. It’s while he’s helping a young relative suffering from flashbacks to Vietnam that he begins to feel unwell. Back in LA Starsky discovers that some of the Plague victims are suffering relapses and rushes to Minnesota to help his lover.

 

By Lucy writing as Amanda Bradley

Originally published in the zine Dance with the Devil in 2003 by Lucy and Elaine. Art by Ruth Kurz.

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Chapter 1

 Hutch looked at the heavy cream colored envelope resting against the wall on the kitchen counter. He had looked at it several times since it had arrived. He had no idea why it filled him with such mixed emotions. He stared at the formal invitation yet again trying to get a fix on what exactly he was feeling.

You are cordially invited to celebrate
the fiftieth wedding anniversary of
Mr. and Mrs. Richard Warren Hutchinson
Friday, October Twenty-First at eight o’clock
Dinner and dancing to follow.
Oakmont Country Club.
Formal attire. Adults only please.
RSVP by October first.

 

A small hand written piece of paper fell from inside the folded invitation, a note from his sister, Elizabeth.

 

Please come!!! It would mean a lot to Mom and otherwise, I’ll die of boredom.
Love you lots, Beth

 

Hutch smiled at the note and slipped both it and the invitation back into the envelope. Is it because I feel uneasy about going back home? he mused. “Or is it the anniversary thing?” he wondered aloud.

He knew his parents were still married more out of habit than from a solidly enduring love. Divorce just wasn’t done, and he had been frankly told so at the time of his own. Hutch placed the envelope back on the counter, leaning it against his plane ticket and sighed. “Better try on my tux and see if it fits okay and get it cleaned.”

Looking more like he was preparing to go to a funeral than a party, Hutch plodded to his closet and dug around in the back until he found the garment bag he was looking for. He pulled it free and took out the tuxedo, sliding off the jacket and vest and slipping the pants on under his robe. They were fine in length, but a little loose in the waist. He gave the adjusting tabs on each side a tug, pulling them in as far as they would go and went to stand in front of the mirror on the inside of his closet door.

They were still a little loose. “I guess I lost more weight while I was sick than I thought.” He gave the side tabs one last tug. “They’ll be okay, though…by the time I tuck in a T-shirt and the tuxedo shirt and cover it with the vest, it’ll be fine.” He slipped out of the pants and put them back on the hanger, taking the whole ensemble out to lay it on the back of the couch as a reminder to get it to the cleaners just down the street.

There was a muffled knock on the front door and he went toward it warily, giving a glance through the peephole before opening it with a smile. There in front of him was his partner with a grocery sack tucked under his chin and his hands balancing a large pizza box.

“Here, let me give you a hand,” Hutch said reaching forward. “You’re early. I didn’t expect you to get away until closer to seven,” Hutch finished as he laid the pizza box on the coffee table. “Damn, that smells great,” he said as he lifted the box and took a deep breath.

“I guess I’m hungrier than I thought,” Hutch admitted, when his stomach growled loudly in appreciation of the wonderful smell permeating the apartment.

“Didn’t you eat anything today, Blondie?” Starsky asked, pulling two cold beers out of his grocery sack and going to put the rest of the six-pack in the fridge.

“Yeah… I ate breakfast with you before you left for work and I had ah … I think I ate something else a while after that, a banana and…” Hutch’s voice trailed off and he felt his face flush.

“I can’t leave you alone at all and expect you to take care of yourself, can I?” Starsky asked with feigned affront. Handing Hutch an opened beer, he ran the hand that had held the cold bottle against Hutch’s cheek in a slightly wet caress. “You’re still on my mother hen list… that’s just the way it is until you’re well enough to come back to work.”

“Yeah, and it’ll stop then?” Hutch asked, turning his mouth to place a quick kiss on the cool wet palm. “Riigghhtt,” he drawled good-naturedly before his lover had a chance to answer.

Starsky pulled Hutch into a real embrace, seeking his mouth. Starsky’s lips were cool and his mouth tasted of beer and love. Hutch wrapped his arms around his partner tightly as his tongue moved in a dance of welcome.

“Miss me?” Starsky asked with a wag of his eyebrows when he leaned back out of the kiss.

“Always,” Hutch answered, with no trace of teasing as he went to the kitchen to tear off a couple of paper towels to use for pizza plates.

Starsky sat on the couch, leaning slightly against the clothes resting behind him. He glanced around to see what he had leaned against and raised a questioning gaze to Hutch.

“I was checking to see that it still fits okay. I left it out to take it to the cleaners.” Hutch passed off a couple of the paper towels and sat next to his lover on the couch. “Still free to drop me at the airport Wednesday?”

“Sure,” Starsky replied around a mouthful of pizza. “You could look a little happier about going.”

“It’s… it’s not like when you visit your Mom. It’s awkward for me to go back there. It doesn’t feel like home anymore and there are all these loaded questions that my folks and their friends ask that make me uncomfortable.”

“Like what?”

“Like… like they want to know why I’m a cop instead of being a doctor. Too bad about your marriage to Vanessa, she was such a beautiful girl… Why don’t you visit more often? Oh, but then I guess plane fare is expensive on a policeman’s salary… Get the picture?” Hutch grumbled.

Starsky reached to run his hand comfortingly up and down Hutch’s thigh. “I’m sorry. But you won’t be there long, and it’s important that you’re there. Fifty years with the same person deserves to be celebrated. When it’s our turn, we’ll throw a big party, too.”

Hutch smiled into the love he saw radiating from Starsky’s face, and he leaned over to take a pizza-flavored kiss. “So when do we start counting?” Hutch asked. “From the time we met at the academy, from the day we started as partners on the force, or… from…” Hutch hesitated and felt his face flush again.

“Take your pick, Blintz. Any of those days are worth a celebration to me. All of them were days spent working to get us to where we are now. If we start from the academy, we’ve got a good jump on it,” Starsky said with a grin. “That much closer to party time.” Starsky lifted his beer bottle in salute and gave Hutch’s bottle a soft tap.

“I’m just glad you’re still around for the days to keep adding up,” Starsky said, looking at Hutch in all seriousness. “For a while there, I wasn’t too sure it was gonna happen.”

Hutch wiped his mouth and set his bottle down, then turned to wrap his uncharacteristically morose partner in his arms. “Don’t get off on that again. I’m fine. You got Callendar to come forward and I really wish you’d let it go. I want to forget about being so sick, and I can’t if every time I look at you, you’re watching me like I’m made out of glass. We both know I could have come back to work this week if I had wanted to. If it weren’t for going back east over the weekend and stretching the sick time, I would have.”

“Remember how many nights you slept on my couch after I got out of the hospital from Bellamy’s poison?” Starsky reminded, his face clearly saying what he thought of Hutch’s rebuke.

“Okay… point taken,” Hutch offered ruefully. “Want another beer while I’m up?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Have you talked to your sister?” Starsky asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah, she’s going to pick me up at the airport. My cousin Todd is coming in on a flight from Georgia about thirty minutes before mine gets in. He’s stationed at Fort Benning and got some leave time approved to come.”

“He’s in the Army?” Starsky asked.

“Yeah. He’s an officer. Viet Nam vet; he teaches at the airborne school there. I haven’t seen him in years, but we were pretty close as kids before college. He used to hang with Jack and me. He was a lifeguard with us at summer camp right before we all went away to school.” Hutch smiled at the memory. “That was a great summer,” he said remembering.

Starsky’s look registered a twinge of jealously that the mention of Jack’s name always seemed to bring and it showed clearly on his face.

Hutch leaned over to wipe a smear of pizza sauce off Starsky’s bottom lip with his index finger, then brought that same finger to his own lips to lick it off suggestively. “It’s not too late for you to come with me. I could show you some really pretty places to go parking in the woods.”

“I bet you could!” Starsky laughed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “But I’ve got court every day this week, including Friday. Wouldn’t make much sense to fly in Saturday and leave the next day. You go ahead. I’ll hear about everything when you get back. Take lots of pictures,” Starsky replied, refusing to rise to the bait.

“I’ll miss you,” Hutch answered, his voice a low sexy whisper.

“I’ll miss you, too. That’s why when we get done eating, I intend to make a few memories to tide me over while you’re gone,” Starsky answered with a predatory leer as he chewed his last bite.

“Starting when?” Hutch asked, draining the last of his beer.

“Now,” Starsky answered, as he put his beer down and leaned over to press his lips to Hutch’s face. He continued feather light kisses over Hutch’s jaw and down his neck, stopping to tongue the mole there. Beer chilled fingers reached inside Hutch’s robe to thumb a nipple to attention and Hutch eagerly responded to the caress.

Starsky continued kissing while both hands moved Hutch’s robe out of the way and Hutch’s hands became equally busy pulling at Starsky’s shirt and pants until both men were reclining on the couch, skin against skin.

Hutch pulled Starsky’s head away from his chest, carding his fingers in the thick curls. “Bed… now…” he panted, feeling frustrated at the lack of maneuvering room the couch offered. Since Hutch’s recovery from the plague, they had done little in the way of love making but a few mutual hand or blow-jobs. If he was going to be away from his lover for a long weekend he did indeed want a worthwhile memory for both of them. One that couldn’t play out the way he wanted it to with them on the couch.

Starsky stared at him for a second with passion-glazed eyes, then nodded his understanding and kneed up off the couch, reaching down to pull Hutch to his feet.

Starsky resumed his attack as soon as Hutch fell onto the bed, his hands reaching to fit Hutch under him as Starsky ground his groin against Hutch’s own erection. Starsky rolled his hips against Hutch with a low groan. “God, I want you so bad,” Starsky breathed into Hutch’s mouth.

“I want you, too. Get the stuff,” Hutch answered, spreading his legs in open invitation.

Starsky rolled off Hutch and reached into the bedside table drawer, fumbling amidst the contents for the lube. Once he found it he turned Hutch on his side facing away from him and spooned tightly behind him pulling Hutch’s body against him.

Hutch pressed back into Starsky’s lap, feeling the hard shaft nudging up and down the crack of Hutch’s ass cheeks. Starsky’s pre-cum and Hutch’s sweat combined to make everything warm and slick. Starsky’s hand reached around Hutch’s hip to wrap around his cock, stroking it smoothly from root to tip.

“I love the feel of you in my hand,” Starsky breathed into Hutch’s ear.

The words made Hutch’s erection even harder. “I love feeling how hard you are, and how hot you get, and knowing I’m the one doin’ that to you.” Starsky picked up the tempo of his stroking to match the forward thrust of his hips.

Hutch reached behind himself and pulled his cheeks apart encouraging Starsky to prepare him. “Do it! Get me ready and fuck me!” Hutch ordered, his voice hoarse with passion.

Starsky needed no further invitation and Hutch felt two slick fingers gently probe and enter him, twisting and turning to stretch the tight muscle.

“Come on,” Hutch groaned in frustration. “Do it!”

“It’s been a while and you’re tight as hell. I’m not going to plow in and hurt you,” Starsky warned, meaning what he was saying, but trembling in his effort not to do just that.

Hutch stilled Starsky’s hand still stroking his cock. “You better stop that or it’ll be over before you get it in.”

“You’re getting there, hang on for me, I’m coming,” Starsky answered.

“Not yet, but you will…” Hutch answered with a chuckle that ended in a moan when Starsky centered his penis and pushed.

“Breathe, baby. Relax…let me in. You know how good it’ll feel in a second,” Starsky crooned, keeping the forward pressure slow and steady.

Hutch pushed back to meet him, letting out a breath once he felt Starsky’s balls against his ass, proving his lover was completely sheathed.

“Oh God, Hutch. You feel so good. It feels like it’s been forever. Too long… too good, I’m not gonna last…”

Hutch tightened his muscles around the large invader impaling him and moved his hips in a counter stroke, driving Starsky deeper and causing the bulk inside him to drag across his prostate with each stroke. Hutch reached down to encourage Starsky’s hand to hold him tighter and stroke faster. Hutch felt the familiar tightening of his balls and the wave of orgasm begin to swamp him. He closed his eyes as he felt the hot spurts shoot from his cock to cover his lovers hand and his own belly. At the same moment he felt each spasm squeeze the hot length of his lover’s cock until he felt Starsky’s finish bathe him on the inside.

Hutch leaned back against Starsky’s body, gulping in great gasps of air, his inhale and exhale having a slight wheeze and rattle to it that echoed loudly in the still bedroom. Starsky’s own breathing was rapid but he drew in a big breath and held it as if trying to listen in the stillness.

“Are you okay?” Starsky asked still panting. “You’re breathing sounds funny.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. But you’re right. It’s been a while. That’s all it is. I’m fine!” Hutch affirmed, but he frowned as he locked his fingers into Starsky’s hand and nested their two joined hands under Hutch’s chin. The minutes passed and he held Starsky’s bulk tightly around him. He eventually began to breathe easier. But even long minutes later when Starsky had softened and slipped from Hutch’s body to rest warmly against his own in sleep, Hutch felt each breath he took as if he were breathing flames of fire.

The next morning, as the alarm clock roused both sleeping men, Starsky stretched and kissed Hutch’s sleep warmed neck as he crawled out of bed. “I’ll drop your tux off at the cleaners on my way in to work. No sense you going out for just that,” Starsky offered, rummaging in Hutch’s top drawer to borrow a pair of clean underwear.

“Thanks,” came a sleepy reply as Hutch burrowed deeper under the covers. He turned over and with a soft snort went back to sleep.

 

Chapter 2

 Hutch grabbed his carry on from Starsky’s hand as they approached the gate when his flight was called. “I’ll miss you, buddy,” Hutch said as he let his fingers linger over Starsky’s as the bag was passed over.

“I’ll miss you, too. Have a good time, though, and call me when you get there to let me…”

“Yes, Mother,” Hutch interrupted, his smile taking the sting out of the words. “I’ll give you a call Sunday morning to remind you to pick me up, too.”

“There’s no danger of me forgetting about that,” Starsky assured him with a wink. “Give my best to your family and don’t forget to give them the card I packed in your suitcase.”

“I won’t. Stay out of trouble while I’m gone, you hear me? Lay low until I can get home and watch your back,” Hutch said, halting his progress toward the gate to let Starsky know he was dead serious about that statement.

“I’ll be here waiting for ya. You want bells? You got ’em!” Starsky whispered as he gave Hutch a discreet and friendly hug.

Hutch pulled out of his lover’s arms, wishing briefly that they could hold each other like the young man and woman standing nearby who were bidding each other a tearful goodbye. Maybe someday, he thought sagely, but not today.

* * * *

Hutch was roused gently from his doze by the stewardess’ soft tap on his arm. With a smile she instructed him to bring his seat up and fasten his seatbelt for landing. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he looked out the window to see the variegated shades of autumn in the fields below. The airport landing field stood out in gray contrast off in the distance. He glanced at his watch, still not believing they were landing already and he’d been asleep for over two hours. The nap had left him feeling slow and groggy rather than refreshed. He pondered why he’d fallen asleep at all considering he’d slept very well indeed the night before. He smiled as he remembered loving Starsky with abandon the night before, both of them falling asleep earlier than usual after the great sex. They had slept entwined, not budging out of each others arms until morning.

Hutch reached his carry-on down from the overhead compartment and followed in line as everyone exited the plane. As he entered the terminal he glanced around. Not much had changed since his last trip home, new paint perhaps and new carpet, but an airport is an airport. The only difference here from LA was size and the numbers of people filling it. There were fewer here and most of them were blonde. With a stretch of his neck and a glance around, he caught sight of his sister waving happily at him as she approached. A handsome man a year or so younger than Hutch followed closely behind her.

“Ken…” Beth said as she launched herself into her brother’s arms, hugging him tightly and hanging on. “God! It’s so good to see you.” She pulled back and Hutch set her feet back on the floor. “You look wonderful. You must be busy; you’re not as tan as you were last time you were home.” Beth stepped aside and the young man with her extended his hand to grip Hutch’s, then used it to pull him into a hug.

“Jason,” Hutch laughed as the man hugged him hard. “It’s good to see you.” Hutch patted the young man’s rock hard abs playfully. “You’re still a lean mean fighting machine, I see.”

“Got to stay in shape or the Army will replace me,” Jason teased as he feigned a punch to Hutch’s midsection. “You’re no slouch yourself, cousin. How’s it going in California? Is the ground shaking enough to get you to consider coming back home?”

“Not yet. But if that happens I’ll let you know. I keep thinking I’ll invest in some cheap land in Arizona, so when the big one hits I’ll have beach front property,” Hutch offered up the old joke out of habit. “I don’t see you asking for assignment to a duty station closer to here,” Hutch taunted, as they fell into step one on each side of Beth and began walking to the baggage claim.

“Are you kidding? Do you know what kind of bases are around here? They aren’t at the end of the earth, but you can see it from there. I haven’t pissed anybody off that badly yet,” Jason answered with a shudder.

“You guys. Middle America isn’t that bad. At least you can go to sleep at night without locking your doors.”

“You can do that in California, too,” Hutch offered straight faced as his sister and cousin looked.at him. “I didn’t say it was smart, I just said you could do it,” he finished with a laugh that they joined in on as they moved through the terminal.

The wait for luggage and the walk to the car was spent catching up on family gossip and the schedule of events for the upcoming celebration.

“There will be a small ceremony at the church where Mom and Dad will renew their wedding vows in front of just family and very long time close family friends. That’s Friday evening. Then we’ll all go out to dinner. Then the big bash will be Saturday night at the club. The whole town will be there. It’s all anyone’s been talking about for weeks. It’ll be fun,” Beth said, as she maneuvered the car away from the airport and into light traffic. It gradually gave way to a four lane, two-way rural road out among rolling acres of farmland.

The car turned off the road to a smaller two lane secondary street that wound around the tree-lined farmland. Hutch recognized houses and landmarks as they approached the home he’d lived in until he left to go to college. Finally, the car turned into the familiar long circular driveway and he smiled as he caught sight of the large house. “Looks like Dad just had her painted,” Hutch remarked.

“Yes. Inside and out. New carpet, too. It sure was a mess while they were doing it, but it’s great now. Wait until you see your old room. Mom put a Murphy bed in it so you’ll have a place to sleep, but otherwise they use it to entertain. There’s a pool table and this cool dartboard they got when they went to England last year, and even a wine cellar. It’s great. You’ll love it.”

Hutch got out of the car, grabbing his bags out of Beth’s trunk, and stood looking at the big house. Long and low and spread out. One of the few so-called estate homes that weren’t more than one story. Hutch’s grandmother had been in a wheelchair and couldn’t manage steps. When the house was built it was with the understanding that when she was no longer able to care for herself, she’d come to live with her son and his wife.

The house was built to the elder Hutchinson’s exact specifications. It was a sprawling mansion with over four thousand feet of living space with a separate apartment for his mother set to the side. The “Mother-in-law” house was no cracker box at seventeen hundred square feet. Hutch may not have been overly close to his father, but he had done right by his mother and Hutch couldn’t fault him for that. The old woman had been the only bright spot in many of his days here and he still missed her love and support. She had died when Hutch was sixteen.

“Come on… get in here,” Beth called, stirring him out of his  memories as she stood on the porch holding open the large door. Jason had already disappeared inside.

 

Chapter 3

Starsky glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was eight o’clock in Minnesota and Hutch still hadn’t called. Maybe he’s waiting until he knows I’ll be home, Starsky thought before signing the last page of the deposition he’d been reading. He slid it in the interoffice mail envelope to be delivered to the district attorney’s office in the morning. He stood up with a bone cracking stretch and was prepared to leave for the day when Dobey’s office door opened and the voice of his Captain stopped him cold.

“Starsky, come in here please. I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up, Cap’n?” Starsky asked, as he followed the voice into Dobey’s office and his boss closed the door.

“I just got off the phone with Judith Kaufmann. Remember her?” Dobey asked as he sat heavily in the chair behind his desk.

“Of course,” Starsky answered. As if I could forget the doctor that told me my best friend had a plague there was no cure for and was likely to die.

“She’s concerned about the plague victims here. Some of the tests she’s been running back in Atlanta on the cultures of the disease…” Dobey hesitated and wiped a hand over his face in fatigue or frustration Starsky wasn’t sure which. He didn’t like the twisting of his own gut right now as he waited for what was coming.

“What…what did she say?” Starsky asked, wanting to get to the crux of the problem before his imagination ran away with him.

“The cultures show the antibody formation is transient,” Dobey offered.

“Transient… what does that mean?” Starsky asked, confused.

“It means the immunity the antibodies provide doesn’t last. They peter out and aren’t effective anymore. If there is any of the residual virus left in the host body then the plague recurs. Only this time the serum is ineffective because the host body has antibodies against the antibodies.”

“What?” Starsky stood staring at his boss, his brain struggling to take in what was being said to him.

“She wants Hutch to get to the hospital and have blood drawn. She wants a sample frozen and shipped to her for testing personally. She’s afraid everyone who thought they were cured is going to suffer a relapse. Three of the previous patient’s have already come to the hospital as sick as they were before. And two of them are dead,” Dobey finished softly, not able to meet Starsky’s eyes as he spoke.

“Relapse…” Starsky sank into the chair, his legs suddenly too rubbery to hold his weight. “No… I can’t believe that. Hutch is fine, he’s…”

“Well, get him over to the hospital so he stays that way.” Dobey’s voice rang loudly in the still office.

“I can’t,” Starsky’s voice, in contrast, was a choked whisper.

“What do you mean you can’t? Why the hell not?”

“Because he’s not here. I put him on a plane to Minnesota this morning. He went back for his parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary.”

“Then you better give him a call and have him get to the hospital there as quick as he can so they can draw the blood and send it to Atlanta.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Starsky started to leave the office, then turned back, grabbed Dobey’s desk phone, and dialed a number. “Minnie? Great, thank God you haven’t left yet. Look in Hutch’s personnel file and give me his parent’s home number in Minnesota. When you find it call me back in Dobey’s office, please,” Starsky asked, struggling to keep his voice calm. “Thanks, doll.”

Starsky sat for only a second before he got up and began pacing as he waited for the phone to ring. “It’ll be quicker for her to get it and me to call from here than to go to Hutch’s house and try to find  it there and call him.” Dobey nodded his agreement as he leaned back in the chair, watching Starsky pace in silent misery.

Minnie called back in a relatively short time but to Starsky it felt as if he’d been waiting for hours. He scribbled down the number and dialed it immediately. The phone rang and rang but there was no answer. He hung up and dialed again with the same result.

“Shit!” he spat as he slammed the receiver down. “Nobody’s home.” Starsky took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. “I’ll head home and keep calling until I get him. If you hear anymore from Dr. Kaufmann, have her give me a call at home. I need to ask her… I need to know…” Starsky stammered, then stopped, as his mind simply wouldn’t accept his current thought process and he couldn’t bring himself to verbalize it any further.

“Let me know when you reach him. I don’t care what time it is,” Dobey ordered, as Starsky made his way out of the  door.

“Yes, Captain. I will,” Starsky answered as he softly pulled the door shut.

 

Chapter 4

Beth, Jason, and Hutch sat around the fire pit in the back yard. The evening was cold enough to appreciate the fire but not so cold as to drive them inside in spite of the wind picking up and the soft rumble of distant thunder. The three sat huddled around the crackling flames, roasting marshmallows and smashing them between graham crackers much like they had done as children years ago.

“Remember how we’d sit out here like this with Grandma, weeks before Halloween and plan how to make the whole back porch a haunted house?” Beth prompted the happy memory.

“Yeah, and how she’d make those great cobwebs out of unprocessed cotton?” Jason remembered.

“And we’d fill that stainless washtub with water and apples and Dad would bring a block of dry ice home from the ice plant and it would bubble and smoke so much nobody could see an apple if their life depended on it?” Hutch added.

“I remember the year we dug that tea rose out of the black iron pot that hung from the chain in the front of the house and put water and dry ice in it so it would look like a witches cauldron,” Beth said laughing.

“Yeah, and how we prayed over that tea rose until next spring hoping we hadn’t killed it,” Jason offered, chuckling.

“We did,” Hutch supplied, laughing at Beth and Jason’s look of surprise.

“Grandma sent me to the garden shop in town right after New Years with money to buy a new one to replace it. We dug out the other dead one near the end of February and replaced it.” He held up his hands in surrender. “She swore me to secrecy. Did you ever break a promise to her?” he asked the other two.

“Not even Dad was brave enough to do that,” Beth answered with a laugh.

“Or that stupid,” Jason offered, then jumped visibly as a peel of thunder got louder.

“What’s wrong with you?” Beth asked, teasing. “Don’t tell me my big brave combat-experienced, green beret cousin is afraid of a little thunder?”

Jason didn’t answer, just pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and lighted one.

“Sound too much like mortar fire?” Hutch surmised softly.

“What would you know about the sound of mortar rounds?” Jason challenged, his voice harsh.

“My partner was in Viet Nam. It was a long time before the sound of thunder didn’t spook him a little,” Hutch answered truthfully, no offence taken.

“I’m sorry…” Jason started. “Some things are hard to let go of,” he said, then fell silent.

“I may never have seen combat like you or my partner Starsky have,” Hutch answered softly. “But there have been times I felt like the streets of LA had  become a war zone.”

“Yeah, I bet you have. I didn’t mean…”

“Forget it,” Hutch looked into eyes much like his own that had seen and felt too much for thirty odd years.

Just then lightning cut across the winter sky and a loud clap of thunder shook the ground. “I guess that storm’s not going around us like the weatherman said. We’d better go in before we get soaked and catch our death out here.”

Beth stood, reaching to place the heavy iron lid over the firepit to smother the flames. Jason took it out of her hand to secure it while Hutch gathered the left over marshmallows and graham crackers and started toward the house. They were listening to Jason telling an army joke that left all three laughing out loud as they walked into the kitchen at the rear of the house. Hutch’s laughter suddenly turned into a coughing fit that left him a little breathless as he leaned against the kitchen sink.

Beth handed him a glass of water with a concerned look on her face. “Jason’s the one I’d expect to have coughing fits the way he smokes. Are your lungs so used to the smog in LA you can’t take clean air?” she asked, when the coughing didn’t stop. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Hutch finally caught his breath enough to answer. “I had a respiratory infection a few weeks ago. I guess it’s still hanging on a little. Nothing to worry about.” Hutch finished the water she’d given him gratefully and headed down the hall to his old room.

He closed the door and shed his coat and sweater and sat down on the chair next to the phone table. He picked up the receiver but got no dial tone. He pressed the switchhook, then tried again with the same result. He opened the door and retraced his steps to the kitchen, trying the phone on the wall there. Still nothing. He turned as Beth entered the kitchen. “The phone’s dead,” Hutch said.

“I’m not surprised. The storm. They go out at the drop of a hat these days. The city council keeps saying they’re going to lay all the lines underground so service won’t break down anymore, but I’ll believe it when I see them digging the ditch. It’ll be back on in the morning. It always is. ‘Night, big brother. Sleep tight.” Beth smiled her goodnight and left Hutch standing alone in the kitchen.

* * * *

“Damn,” Hutch muttered to himself as he undressed and pulled the Murphy bed free of the wall. “Sorry I won’t get to tell you goodnight, buddy. I guess I should have remembered that happened sometimes and called earlier.” Hutch turned down the bed and climbed in, sinking into the soft feather mattress on the bed. He closed his eyes in bliss and drifted off to sleep, remembering the secure feeling of the feather down and humming the country song about Grandma’s feather bed.

Hutch woke up suddenly, sitting straight up in bed, his heart pounding wildly. He looked around, slightly disoriented in the strange, dark room wondering what had so abruptly roused him. He listened intently, hearing a muffled murmuring outside his room and down the hall where his parent’s bedroom was. Then he heard a scream, high pitched and terror filled, and he jumped out of bed, hurriedly donning his robe and grabbing his handgun out of his suitcase. He threw open his door and saw his father standing in the hallway outside Beth’s bedroom, wearing only his underwear.

His father turned and saw Hutch approaching and his face relaxed somewhat and the older man took a tentative step backward. Hutch slowly approached and leaned around his father’s shoulder to look into the bedroom. Jason stood by the window with a very frightened-looking Elizabeth standing in front of him. He had his arm across her throat and he held her against his body so tightly her feet barely touched the floor.

“Get back. I’ll snap her neck if you come near me, you lousy gook.” Beth trembled in his arms and he tightened his hold on her. “I’m getting out of here and you aren’t going to stop me or I’ll frag the whole hooch as I leave here. Do you understand me? Get away from the door,” Jason screamed, his eyes wide and wild with whatever waking nightmare he was having.

“Flashback,” Hutch whispered to his father as he slowly pushed the older man away from the door and motioned him to go back into his bedroom. “Go back in there with Mom and lock your door,” Hutch ordered firmly, and was totally surprised when the older man complied without comment. Hutch’s mind searched frantically for what rank his cousin had  held  during his  tour of duty in Viet Nam. He’s a Captain now, he reasoned, and taking a deep breath and praying he was correct, he called out. “Lieutenant, I’ve secured the perimeter, sir. You can leave the girl there and come out. We’re secure, sir.”

“Are you  sure?” Jason asked, loosening his hold fractionally.

“Yes, sir. You neutralized all but one, sir, and I took care of him. We’re safe, sir.” Hutch spoke softly and calmly as he inched his way into Beth’s room. “Are you okay, sir?” he asked quietly. “You weren’t injured in the firefight were you, sir?” he questioned as he continued his steady approach.

“No, I’m not hurt…I don’t think… I’m…” Jason faltered, looking confused for a second. “I’m okay. Let’s get back to our outfit, soldier. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired and I want to go home.” Jason released Beth who had the presence of mind to instantly leave the room and run down the hall into one of the spare rooms, locking herself in.

Hutch slowly approached Jason and was almost close enough to touch when the room lit up like daylight with a lighting strike close by and a loud peel of thunder followed right behind the blinding flash. Jason threw himself to the floor, taking Hutch down with him and covering both their heads. When the echo of the thunder died away, Jason jumped up and pulled Hutch to his feet behind him. With a shout of: “Follow me and keep your head down. Where the hell is your helmet you stupid sonofabitch? Don’t you realize what a target that damned blond hair is?” Jason screamed as he ran down the hall and out the front door.

“Jason, come back. It’s okay…” Hutch yelled after the rapidly disappearing figure that dissolved into the darkness outside. The sleeting rain beginning to fall heavily was the only visible thing in the dim illumination of the front porch light.

Hutch stood at the door looking out into the cold rain. With a sigh he retraced his steps back to his bedroom and  began pulling on his jeans and sweater from earlier.

His father’s bulk appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m going after him,” Hutch replied.

“I’ve called the Sheriff from the CB in the kitchen. They’ll send someone. You can’t go out there in this weather. The rain and cold will wake him up and he’ll come home on his own most likely,” the elder Hutchinson offered.

“He’s done this before?” Hutch asked, shocked.

“Yes, once. He came to visit right after he was released from the military hospital. It was a summer storm that time. I should have anticipated it. But I thought he’d gotten past this. He hadn’t mentioned having anymore trouble in a long time. I presumed he was over it.” Hutch’s father looked sadly at him. “I mean, he’s still on active duty. If this happened often they’d medically discharge him, wouldn’t they?”

“Probably. But I’m not going to leave him out there alone,” Hutch stated as he shrugged into his shoulder holster, seated his weapon in it and slipped on his heavy coat.

“I wish you’d let the Sheriff take care of it. I don’t like the idea of you out there.”

“Dad, I’m not a little kid anymore. Going after people in trouble is what I do.  Jason is family. I won’t let him be out there alone and terrified. I can’t take the chance that the Sheriff won’t understand what he’s going through and possibly shoot him if Jason makes any threatening moves.” Hutch stopped walking to the front of the house, his father close behind.

“He’s a Hutchinson, the Sheriff wouldn’t fire. No matter what he did.”

“I hope you are seriously underestimating your local law enforcement,” Hutch muttered, and he grabbed one of the knit hats and an extra coat off the rack by the front door and followed after his cousin.

 

Chapter 5

Starsky slammed the phone down again, getting the same recorded message that all the lines were busy and the call could not be connected at the present time. Grabbing a small duffel bag out of the closet, he hastily threw in a few pairs of clean underwear and socks, a sweater and a clean pair of jeans.

Dashing into the bathroom, he grabbed his razor and toothbrush threw them in the bag and zipped it shut as he was running out the door toward his car. He turned the Torino toward LAX and floored it. There had to be a flight out of here heading toward Minnesota, tonight and he’d find it if it killed him.

* * * *

“What have you got that will get me into Duluth, Minnesota tonight?” Starsky asked the surprised girl at the airline ticket counter.

“Nothing tonight,” she answered him.

“It’s an emergency that I get there. I don’t care what airline. I’ll take a postal hop if that’s the only thing going. I’ve got to get there as soon as possible. I know this is going to sound hokey, but it really is a matter of life and death, and I’m not kidding.” Starsky flashed his badge in desperation. The ticket clerk’s eyes widened.

“Let me make a few calls and I’ll see what I can do.”

Starsky paced in front of the counter until at last the woman returned.

“My brother works for UPS. He has a flight leaving soon and can make a connection for you in Detroit and you can take a hop to Duluth. You’ll get in at three a.m. That’s the best I can  do.”

“I’ll take it. Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me,” Starsky said sincerely. He took the note she handed him.

“Give this to my brother and he’ll set you up with the ticket for the last leg.” She smiled as he took the paper. “Good luck,” she offered as he hurried away.

* * * *

Starsky dozed in the UPS plane in fits and starts, his mind spinning in worry and fear every time a bump roused him as they flew. In the Detroit airport he tried the Hutchinson phone number one more time. But the results were the same. The short flight to Duluth was bumpy due to the weather. He stared out the window at  the darkness, seeing the flashes of lightning cut across the sky, illuminating the sheets of rain. His hands ached from his death grip on the arms of his seat. When the plane finally slowed to a full stop, Starsky’s stomach had almost caught up with it. Even so it was on decidedly shaky legs that he had to climb down the  flight of stairs and dash into the terminal.

He awakened a sleepy car rental clerk in the small airport. Handing off his credit card, he rented a car. Giving the address for the Hutchinson’s farm to the rental clerk, he was relieved to hear that the man knew the property and gave him precise directions to get there. He drove as quickly as possible considering the weather that alternated between sheets of hard rain and the lesser falling of sleet as the temperature dropped enough to freeze it. Finally, taking the last turn, Starsky pulled into the long driveway and was concerned to see that, for the middle of the night, there were certainly a lot of lights on inside the house. His heart leaped to his throat when he pulled to the side of the driveway by the garage and saw the Sheriffs car sitting in front of the porch.

Getting quickly out of the  car  and  drawing his thin coat around him tightly, he dashed up the porch steps to knock on the door. It was quickly opened by a tall man with a full head of grey hair, dressed in a sweater and corduroy pants.

“Yes?” the older man answered, holding the inside door open but not opening the screen to this wet and  bedraggled stranger.

“Mr. Hutchinson, I’m Dave Starsky, Hutch’s partner back in LA. Is he here? I need to talk to him, it’s really important.”

“His partner…from LA?” the man looked stunned. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to see Hutch right away,” Starsky said again, feeling his fear drain away his patience.

“He’s not here right now,” Mr. Hutchinson replied, hedging slightly.

“What do you mean, he’s not here?” Starsky exploded. “He flew here yesterday. I put  him on the plane myself.”

“Come in,  please.” He opened the screen and stepped aside.

Starsky entered, giving his feet a cursory wipe on the mat outside the door. Mr. Hutchinson stretched out his arm in an offer to take Starsky’s coat but Starsky shook his head and waved the older man off. “I need to speak to Hutch right now. Please, where is he?”

“I told you, he isn’t here. My nephew had ah… ah problem in the middle of the night and he left the house. Kenneth went after him. The Sheriff is here now, and they have men out looking for both of them.” Mr. Hutchinson turned toward the hallway, indicating that Starsky should follow. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of a short time before they are found and return.”

“Hutch is outside… in that?” Starsky turned to look out the largest of the picture windows at the front of the house. “If he isn’t sick already, he sure as hell will be,” Starsky moaned.

“Sick already?” A young woman’s voice sounded from the end of the hall as Starsky and the elder Hutchinson approached the kitchen. “What’s wrong with Ken?” she asked with concern genuine.

Starsky stepped in.to the bright kitchen, noticing the young woman who had just spoken looked as if she’d been crying.

“He…” Starsky hesitated, not knowing if Hutch had mentioned his brush with death to his family. “He was really ill a few weeks ago…”

“A respiratory infection. Yes, Ken mentioned it. But he said he was okay now. That isn’t true is it?” Eyes already red from crying filled again.

“He was really sick with a viral plague. The doctors found a survivor to get blood from to make a vaccine and he’s recovered, but …”

“But what?” an older attractive woman stood from her chair at the large table and stepped to stand next to her husband. Starsky looked in her face and saw eyes just like his lover’s staring back at him, their fear evident.

“But I got a call from the doctor in Atlanta at the CDC. I don’t understand it completely, but there are people that were sick, like Hutch was sick, and took the shot to get better and now they’re sick again. I need to get Hutch to the hospital so he can have his blood tested to see if his antibodies against the disease aren’t there anymore.”

“And if they aren’t?” Hutch’s father asked.

“Then they need to check and see if there is any of the virus still alive in his body. If there is then he’s likely to get really sick again.” Starsky’s throat tightened at saying his greatest fear aloud. “That’s why I’m here. I tried to call…”

“The storm took the phone out hours ago,” the young woman Starsky assumed to be Hutch’s sister said.

“I know. I tried calling until I couldn’t stand it anymore and knew I had to get here. I had to make sure Hutch was okay,” Starsky said, his chin shooting up as if to dare anyone in the room to make something of it.

“Forgive our lack of manners, please,” Mrs. Hutchinson said. “It’s been a very disturbing night. I’m Amelia Hutchinson, Kenneth’s mother. This is my husband, Richard, and our daughter, Elizabeth.”

Starsky shook hands all around, but refused the offer to sit at the table. “I need to go out there and find Hutch,” he said, as he turned to go toward the front door.

“In this storm you’d only get lost or hurt. Let the men look who are familiar with the area. Kenneth knows these woods. It isn’t that he’s lost that he hasn’t returned yet. He’s gone after his cousin, Jason. He won’t come back unless he can persuade Jason to come with him.”

“Why is Jason out there in this weather?” Starsky asked.

“We were all asleep,” Elizabeth explained, “And I woke up with Jason in my room, yelling at me in Vietnamese, I think. Some Asian-sounding language… There was a lot of lightning and thunder before we went to bed. It was making him nervous. I screamed when I woke up and saw a man standing in my bedroom in the dark. I guess I scared him as badly as he scared me. He grabbed me when he saw my father start to come in the room. He was yelling for everyone to get away from him. I don’t know what he was really seeing or thinking in his mind at that point. Ken must have heard all the commotion and came down the hall. He started talking to Jason as if they were both in the Army. Jason let me go and I ran to another bedroom.”

Mrs. Hutchinson moved to stand next to her shaken daughter, hugging her in a show of comfort.

“Jason ran out of the  house then, believing he was escaping some danger. Kenneth went after him,” Mr. Hutchinson finished. “I told him I had already called the police, but  he wouldn’t stay here. He followed after Jason.”

Starsky clearly saw the scenario in his mind’s eye, having seen his own share of veteran’s flashbacks over the years. He nodded his head in sad understanding. Thunder, yeah, it used to push my buttons, too. He remembered more than one occasion when he’d made lame excuses to spend the night at Hutch’s place or asked him to stay at his own during a storm. Luckily, it really didn‘t rain often in southern California and the passing of years and Hutch’s love had  softened the bad memories and eased the fear.

“May I borrow a flashlight, please? I can’t just sit here and wait for morning. I need to go look. If Hutch is out there, even if he isn’t getting sick, this cold isn’t going to be good for him after being sick so recently. I need to go looking.”

“I’ll get you one from the garage. You’ll need a heavier coat that’s dry, too. Beth, go get him one of my heavy hunting jackets.” Mr. Hutchinson disappeared out a door at the rear of the large kitchen and Beth ran quickly to the closet in the front hall.

“I’m sorry we haven’t met before, Mr. Starsky. Kenneth has spoken of you for years. I feel as if I know you. He speaks very highly of you. I can see his faith in your friendship is certainly well founded. Thank you for coming to warn him. I pray it isn’t necessary.”

“Me, too,” Starsky answered, as he slipped his wet coat off and shrugged into the heavy dry replacement Beth handed him.

“I’m afraid Hutch is getting sick,” she admitted, her voice shaking a little as she spoke.

“Why do you think that?” Starsky asked, his body snapping around to face her.

“We were outside earlier and when we came in we were all laughing and he started coughing really bad. His color just drained away from his face and he couldn’t even catch his breath enough to talk for a few minutes.” The young woman looked searchingly at Starsky’s face. “That’s what he was like when he was sick before, wasn’t it?”

Starsky closed his eyes as his mind too easily supplied him with the vision of Hutch gasping for every tortured breath inside the oxygen tent.

“Here,” Mr. Hutchinson’s voice broke the grip his memory had him in. “Please be careful. I wish I felt that arguing how useless it is for you to go out there, unfamiliar as you are with the land, would do any good. But somehow I can’t see you inclined to listen.”

“No sir, I’m not so inclined. But don’t feel bad. Hutch usually doesn’t win this kind of argument either.” Starsky took the large lantern-type flashlight and, buttoning his jacket, he stepped through the front door.

The rain had stopped but the temperature had dropped somewhat, causing the isolated drips that blew from the trees to look like large snowflakes as they fell to the ground.

“HHHuuuutttccchhhh!” Starsky shouted, then listened with all his attention. But he heard nothing but the slight echo of his shout. He glanced around not sure of which direction to take as he saw the first faint fingers of pink lighten the eastern sky. Picking out some muddy tracks he headed in that direction, not sure if it were Hutch and his cousin or some of the Sheriff’s party out also looking. He shivered slightly against the cold. “I’m going to kick your ass, Hutchinson, when I find you. I hate the cold and wet and I hate the woods at night. You better know how much I love you or I’d be back in the house by the fire,” Starsky muttered, as he stepped gingerly over a fallen tree limb.

 

Chapter 6

“Tonight wasn’t the first flashback you’ve had, is it?” Hutch asked, as he sat on a large rock inside a windbreak of some fallen trees. His cousin Jason sat on the forest floor by his feet.

“No,” Jason replied slowly.

“Have you talked to anybody about them?”

“No. If I do that they’ll section me out on a medical. The Army is all I know, Ken. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be. There’s not much call for an ex-bazooka expert on the outside. If I got out, what would I do?” Jason asked, his posture defeated.

“You’re a smart guy. You could do anything. But you need to talk to somebody and get some help, before you hurt yourself or somebody else one of these times.” Hutch reached to squeeze the shoulder nearest him.

“I know…” Jason admitted.

“You ready to go back?” Hutch asked, as another bout of coughing hit him.

“No, but  it’s too cold to stay out here, and you sound like shit,” Jason answered, standing up and brushing the wet leaves off his  pants.

Off in the distance he heard a faint sound, and Hutch stood also. His mouth dropped open in surprise. “Did you hear that?” he asked Jason.

“I heard somebody yelling something, unless I’m sharing my hallucinations now.”

“That sounded like my partner from LA. But  it couldn’t be.” Hutch listened intently, hearing the call of “HHHuuutttccchhh” sounding a little closer this time. “It can’t be. But nobody around here ever called me Hutch…”

“You think it’s your partner? The cop you work with?” Jason asked.

“My partner in every sense of the word, Jas’,” Hutch answered looking closely at his cousin’s expression in the faint light.

“Does your Dad know?” Jason asked candidly.

“Nope,” Hutch answered.

“Tell him when we get back, would ya’? It’ll make me being crazy seem not so bad,” Jason said with a smile to indicate his teasing.

“Thanks a lot,” Hutch answered with a small laugh, as he wiped off the sweat forming on his face, in spite of the cold.

Jason and Hutch started walking in the direction of the voice. By the time Hutch caught sight of the lone figure on the trail he was shivering again, his teeth chattering violently and Jason had slipped an arm around his waist to help steady his steps.

“I don’t have a clue what you’re doing here, buddy, but I’m damn glad you’re here,” Hutch said as the three met. “I don’t feel so good.”

Starsky stepped to take Hutch into his arms, accepting his weight from Jason as they continued walking out of the woods.

“What are you doing here?” Hutch asked around his chattering teeth.

“I missed you,” Starsky said, looking as if he were forcing words around a lump in is throat.

Jason walked on the other side of Hutch, the two men practically carrying Hutch by the time they made it back to the house.

Mr. Hutchinson held the door open and helped the three inside, steering them into the family room and helping Hutch down onto the big sofa by the fireplace. Starsky began pulling the wet clothes off Hutch’s body, then let Hutch’s father wrap him up in several warm, soft blankets while Starsky went to Mrs. Hutchinson. “Does the phone work yet?” he asked.

Hutch offered up a silent prayer that it did. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he knew it wasn’t good by how he felt. Seeing Starsky here with still no explanation didn’t make him feel any better.

“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it,” Amelia answered, hurrying over to the phone on the table in the hall. She lifted the receiver and smiled as she heard the dial tone.

“Yes, it’s working.”

“Call an ambulance. We need to get Hutch to the hospital as quick as we can.”

She sobered and dialed the phone while Starsky went back to the couch to check on his lover.

“You never answered me,” Hutch whispered hoarsely, as he clutched the blankets around him and tried not to shiver.

“The CDC in Atlanta called. There’s a problem…” Starsky said quietly.

Their eyes met and Hutch’s could see Starsky steeling himself to give his partner the bad news. “Judith said the antibody production that cured the virus appears to be temporary. The antibodies stop being formed and if there’s any of the original virus left…”

“The plague comes back,” Hutch surmised.

“Yeah.”

“So you couldn’t call me to tell me that?” Hutch tried a little joke to lighten the mood.

“I tried, but the phone was  out. I didn’t want to wait. I hadn’t talked to you to know if you were okay or not. So I hitched a ride on a UPS plane.”

“You’re kidding?”

“No. They didn’t feed me and there wasn’t any movie,” Starsky whined, playing along with the joke but sliding his hand under the edge of the blanket to grip Hutch’s tightly.

“The next time I complain about you being a mother hen, I give you permission to slug me,” Hutch said, as a hard chill took him and his whole body shook.

“Starsky…” Hutch moaned as he felt the familiar struggle to breathe he’d felt in the hospital only a few weeks earlier. “Oh shit, not again.”

“Take it easy. The ambulance is on the way. I’ll give them Judith’s number and they can call her and she’ll tell them what to do to get you fixed up again,” Starsky soothed, running his hand up and down Hutch’s blanket covered shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine, buddy. Just take it easy.”

Starsky motioned for Beth to toss him another throw pillow and  he raised Hutch’s head and shoulders up enough to slip the pillow under them.

“Thanks, that helps.” Hutch gave Starsky a weak smile in gratitude.

“This plague,” Mr. Hutchinson said from his position beside the couch. “Is it contagious?”

“The original one was. I don’t know about a relapse. Nobody told me that part,” Starsky answered calmly, making it very clear that if he was at risk being this close to Hutch, he didn’t give a damn.

The ambulance arrived and Hutch was loaded onto the stretcher and wheeled out. Starsky followed to the ambulance, giving Hutch’s foot a pat. “I’ll be right behind you, buddy,” Starsky said just before the attendant closed the doors. Hutch watched out the window as Starsky jogged to a rental car while the rest of the Hutchinson family followed in their own cars.

* * * *

Hutch gave as complete a history of his bout with the plague as he could remember, trusting Starsky to fill in the blanks. The Internist who was called in to consult by the ER doctor listened as the story was told again, then left the room saying he needed to go to a quiet place and speak with the CDC in Atlanta.

Starsky sat on a padded stool next to the ER stretcher where Hutch rested. The nurse came in at intervals to take Hutch’s vital signs and Hutch saw Starsky glance over her shoulder as she wrote them down. The expression on his lover’s face confirmed what Hutch himself was feeling… his temperature was rising. Her last trip in she started an IV.

Hutch’s parents came in and Starsky moved aside far enough to allow them to get close.

“I’m sorry about the ceremony tonight. I probably won’t be there,” Hutch apologized.

“That doesn’t matter, dear,” Hutch’s mother quickly assured him.

“Just rest and get well, son,” Mr. Hutchinson said, reaching out to cover his wife’s hand where it lay on her son’s.

“How’s Jason?” Hutch asked.

“He’s sleeping at home. Beth is staying there with him in case he has any more nightmares,” his mother explained.

“Thank you for how you handled everything tonight, Ken. I… I haven’t given you the respect you deserve as a police officer. I guess it took me actually seeing a small portion of what your job entails to make me realize. You made me very proud.” Richard cleared his throat before continuing. “It hasn’t been easy for Jason with Ronald dying so soon after the accident that took Jason’s mother. I’ve tried to fill in as a father, in Ronald’s place, but I don’t suppose I’ll ever win any awards in that department. Too busy with my own pursuits. The Army was what Jason always wanted. Beth is the only one of you who ever had any interest in the family business. I had hoped…”

“Richard,” Amelia cut her husband off. “We agreed that was a dead horse and you’ve beaten it long enough.”

“You’re right,” the big man yielded without a fight. “I will see that Jason gets whatever help he needs. I give you my word. But more importantly, I wanted you to know how I felt about the way you handled things.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Hutch said, feeling his eyes sting slightly and willing them with great desperation not to water.

The Internist came in and Hutch’s parent’s attention was diverted long enough for Hutch to wipe a hand over his eyes.

“I’ve spoken to Dr. Kaufman and we’ll be drawing a few more vials of blood to test. Some of the samples will be frozen and sent to her. She wants to do them personally. So until we get the results back, we’ll get you in a room upstairs and let you get comfortable.”

“Will he need to be in isolation,” Starsky asked, dreading the answer.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. As a precaution, everyone in the family who has been in close contact with Ken will need to be inoculated.”

“But I thought the vaccine didn’t work, that’s why my son is ill again,” Richard spoke up.

“Even though it is imperfect, it’s the only treatment we have currently. Not everyone who originally had the plague has suffered a drop in the antibody formation. Until a second-generation vaccine can be produced, we’ll go with what we’ve got. Ken’s issue of contagion isn’t a constant. As his temperature continues to rise, the organism causing the illness will proliferate. We’re taking precautions because it’s the prudent thing to do. It is an airborne virus and therefore carried in his expired air and of course in any of his  body fluids. That’s what we will isolate. He can still have visitors.”

Yeah, but they can’t touch me and I can’t touch them, Hutch thought, remembering his frustration with that barrier and how much he hated it.

“What about testing me?” Starsky pressed. “I was exposed the same as he was. I was around him when he was sick. They gave me the vaccine and I’m still okay. Test me.”

“It would be very interesting to run an analysis of your blood. If your immunity is still as high as it was after you first received the vaccine, you might be able to provide the key to the synthesis of an antibody reaction that does not degrade and become ineffective. I’ll send a lab tech to draw a sample. But until we get the results, please observe the isolationary precautions when you visit.”

“Okay, I will,” Starsky promised reluctantly. “But I won’t need to after you get the test back. I’ll still be immune,” Starsky muttered, his expression clearly communicating to Hutch his unwillingness to believe anything else.

Hutch frowned where he lay on the stretcher. “You guys are talking about me as if I’m not here.”

“I’m sorry, Ken. Did you  understand everything I said?” Dr. Hammond asked.

“Yes, and I agree with taking every precaution if there is even the slightest possibility what I’ve got could be passed to someone else. I saw how it spread in LA. I don’t want to see that happen here.”

“Do you have any other questions?” the doctor asked.

“No, unfortunately it hasn’t been that long ago. I remember the drill,” Hutch replied.

The doctor left, Hutch’s mother and father following him out. I guess they still have some questions, Hutch thought. He watched Starsky move back to his position next to the stretcher and take a hold of Hutch’s hand.

“Don’t get so close,” Hutch warned, pulling his sweaty hand out of Starsky’s dry ones. “I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“Hey, I didn’t get it before, and I’m not going to get it this time. But don’t ask me to stop touching you.” Starsky stubbornly clasped Hutch’s hand again. “You might as well ask me not to breathe.” Starsky’s eyes held Hutch’s own and he lost himself in the dark blue.

Before either man could say anything, two orderlies entered wearing gloves and paper gowns and pulling masks on over their mouths and noses. “We’re here to take Mr. Hutchinson to his room upstairs. You can follow us if you like and the nurse in the isolation ward can explain the visiting procedure to you.”

Starsky rose from his stool and grimly followed. Hutch saw his parents still speaking with the doctor at the end of the hallway. With a weak wave he said goodbye as the stretcher was pushed into the elevator.

* * * *

Hutch was settled in his room. He looked around at the sterile area feeling very alone as he sat up and slid his legs off the side of the bed. He wondered briefly if Starsky had been given his clothes or if they were sitting on a lab table somewhere waiting to be burned. “I might as well be Typhoid Mary,” Hutch mumbled. He glanced up as the door opened and he recognized the concealed eyes of his lover that showed in the covered face.

“Do you have my stuff?” Hutch asked while it was still on his mind.

“Yeah. Your clothes and wallet you mean?”

“What about my gun?”

“I took that off you at the house. It’s still there,” Starsky said as he pulled the plastic chair closer to the bed.

“Oh, okay. I guess I was more out of it than I thought. I don’t remember you taking it.” Hutch hung his head and drew his knees up to wrap his arms around them.

“How are ya’ feeling?” Starsky asked.

“Okay, right now. I feel a lot better than I did when we got back to the house. It’s hard to believe that in a little while, I’ll…” Hutch stopped, unable to continue.

“I gave them a blood sample. I’m sure it’s gonna come back okay and I won’t need this stupid monkey suit. You’re gonna be okay, buddy. Don’t let this get you down. You need a positive attitude to fight it, just like before. Remember?”

“I’m tired of being sick,” Hutch admitted. The idea of going through what little he remembered of those fevered, pain-filled days, plus what Starsky had told him about it, frightened him. More so that he was doing it here in what was now a strange place and no longer his home. God, what if I give it to my family?

* * * *

The Internist came in a few hours later. Starsky had been adamant about staying at the hospital rather than going back to the Hutchinson’s home to get some sleep, but the rules were ten minutes exposure at a time and the staff had held Starsky to that religiously. His time was almost up when the doctor entered.

“You can  dispense with the isolation regimen, Mr. Starsky. Your blood work shows your immunity to be solid and there is no trace of any viral infection. If you’d be willing to donate another blood sample, it would be helpful in the synthesis of a second generation vaccine.”

“Just tell me where and when to roll up my sleeve,” Starsky said, obviously relieved as  he ripped away the  mask and gown.

“We’ll be giving you the same course of drug therapy that you had before, adding in the second generation vaccine, of course. Some of the side effects you may remember…”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Hutch admitted grimly, not looking forward to the nausea, vomiting, abdominal cramps, and diarrhea that he so clearly remembered.

“We’ve got an advantage this time, buddy. We know what helped a little bit last time and we can start with it right away,” Starsky offered, even if his optimism did appear a little forced.

“Apple juice and soda crackers,” Starsky offered. “He could keep those down when he couldn’t anything else.”

“I’ll tell the nurses,” the doctor said. “We’ll start your treatment right away and  hopefully catch it before it gets as big a hold as it did last time.”

With a shake of the doctor’s gloved hand as the older man left, Hutch closed his eyes and tried to nap, but sleep wouldn’t come. Starsky slouched in the chair next to the bed doing the same.

The nurse that entered a short time later had kind eyes that shone above the isolation mask. She entered quietly so as not to disturb Starsky as he snored softly in the chair. She left a glass of iced apple juice and several packages of soda crackers on Hutch’s over-bed table within easy reach. Then, after resting oxygen prongs gently under Hutch’s nose and turning on the slow flow, she hung the small bag of IV medication that would start to shake loose the virus that had once again attacked Hutch’s body.

He watched the steady drip of the amber liquid for a few minutes before he finally drifted off to sleep. His next moment of awareness came as a painful cramp seized him at his middle. He drew his knees up and let out a soft moan and then there were hands holding him, and a cool cloth against his face.

Starsky had wedged himself behind Hutch to sit against the headboard of the hospital bed and hold Hutch in his arms. Deja vu, Hutch thought, remembering exactly the same position all those hours in Huggy’s room over The Pits.

“Aren’t you tired of holding my head while I puke?” Hutch asked.

“Yeah, now that you mention it,” Starsky answered with a grin. “Knock it off, will ya’?” Starsky wiped the cloth over Hutch’s face. “It isn’t your fault, not now and not then,” Starsky whispered.

“We should be getting pretty good at it by now, though, don’t you think?” Hutch asked, gritting his teeth as a hard shaking chill and another cramp hit him.

“Just try to relax and breathe,” Starsky soothed, his fingers locking tightly in Hutch’s hand.

* * * *

Some time later the door opened and Hutch groaned at the thought of another dose of medication so quickly. He opened his eyes to see his father slowly approaching. He nudged the sleeping body of his partner where Starsky sat in the chair with his head and shoulders resting on Hutch’s bed. Starsky’s hand rested loosely on Hutch’s chest, but Starsky barely moved.

“How are you feeling, son?” his father whispered.

“Pretty rough, but not as bad as last time,” Hutch admitted, seeing no point in sugar coating things.

“Dr. Hammond got a copy of your hospital records and spoke to me a little while ago. You almost died. Why didn’t you let us know?”

“There wasn’t anything you could have done…” Hutch offered as Starsky stirred next to him.

“Didn’t you think it might have been less of a shock to know you were ill, than just to get the phone call after the fact?”

“I guess I wasn’t thinking. If that was the outcome it wouldn’t matter one way or the other. If I was dead, I was  dead.”

Starsky sat up blinking sleepily, looking from one Hutchinson to the other.

“We love you,” the elder man said, his voice sounding as if saying the words aloud were somehow awkward. “Even if we couldn’t have helped in any way… we would have wanted to know. In the future if you are ill or injured, son…” The older man hesitated, his eyes shifting briefly to Starsky. “Please… don’t keep us uninformed.”

Starsky looked at Hutch, then at Hutch’s father. “I’ll be sure you know in the future if something ever happens to Hutch. I should have called you then, but I was so tied up in knots just trying to find Callendar to get the cure. I didn’t stop to think or do anything else.”

“It didn’t matter when it was over and I was on the mend,” Hutch shrugged.

Richard Hutchinson looked sharply at Starsky’s face as Hutch made that comment, causing Hutch to wonder what emotion the older man saw there.

“When it was over it still mattered very much, didn’t it, David?” said Mr. Hutchinson quietly.

Hutch saw Starsky’s mouth open as if to speak, then close again without a sound.

“Your mother will come with me to check on you later this evening. Rest son,” Hutch’s father said with a pat to his son’s foot. “Feel free to use our home to eat or sleep if you can be persuaded to leave here, David,” Richard said sincerely, and Hutch had to look hard to be sure his father actually meant his offer.

“Thank you. I’ll stay here until I know the medicine’s working,” Starsky said firmly. Hutch easily recognized the stubborn set of his lover’s jaw that told him not to waste his breath in argument.

Hutch watched his father leave the room, taking off the isolation garb in the outer room before turning back to offer a last wave goodbye.

“He knows…” Hutch said and his mouth went dry.

“Yeah, so?” Starsky asked, waiting.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to think or how to feel about it. I never imagined my family being intimately involved in my life again. We’ve had so little contact through the years, it’s like they aren’t really there, you know? It’s not like you, with a call to your Mom every Friday.”

“Maybe it should be,” Starsky offered tentatively. “He didn’t freak out. He may not have been thrilled about the thought, but I didn’t get the feeling that he was going to disown you or anything. Did you?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Hutch said, closing his eyes against the headache that was beginning to pound behind his eyes. “And right now, I don’t feel well enough to care much, one way or the other.”

* * * *

Hutch was feeling much better by that evening when his sister came to visit. He saw her enter the outer room and smiled as she did a slow turn to show him the dress she was wearing, evidently on her way to the anniversary celebration.

“You better believe I love you, or I wouldn’t risk messing up my hair to put all this stuff on,” she teased as she approached the bed.

“You look beautiful. I’m sorry I won’t be there to dance with you. I’d be the envy of every guy there.”

“I brought a heavy coat for Dave. It’s getting really cold outside. If he goes out he’ll need it,” she said as she sat on the edge of the  bed. “Dad said to tell you he was serious about the offer for Dave to stay at the house. He doesn’t have to sleep in the waiting room.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said. I was kinda surprised.”

“Don’t be. He meant it.”

Hutch looked closely at his sister, seeing her cheeks color slightly where the skin showed around the mask. She squirmed a little, then began talking just like he knew she would.

“Remember me telling you what a mess it was when they did all the redecorating at the house?”

Hutch nodded and she went on.

“Well, Dad had turbines mounted on the roof to vent the attic and new insulation put in up there. So we had to go through a lot of the boxes and trunks up there to get ready for that. We threw a load of stuff away. One of the trunks had…” Beth hesitated. “Do you remember ever hearing Mom or Dad talk about Uncle Harris?”

Hutch thought back. A vague memory from pictures of a laughing man who looked a lot like his mother came to him. “He died in the Korean War didn’t he?”

“Yes, he was Mom’s brother and Dad’s best friend. We went to a reunion a few years ago for Mom’s side of the family in Topeka. Everyone had been hitting Aunt Elaine’s spiked punch and they started swapping stories about Mom and Dad when they were young. Somebody made a joke that if Uncle Harris hadn’t gone in the Army, he’d have been the third party on their honeymoon. Mom laughed like crazy at the joke but Dad didn’t think it was funny at all. I didn’t think too much about it at the time. I thought that Uncle Harris had been Dad’s best friend and he was dead and that was why Dad didn’t think it was funny.” Beth hesitated again and looked around the room, as if unsure whether or not to continue.

“Go on,” Hutch prompted.

“When I was going through the stuff in the attic I came across a trunk that had Dad’s stuff in it. There was a box of letters Uncle Harris wrote to Dad while he was in the Army. And a journal of Dad’s from when he was in college. They were all written about the same time. Shortly before and right after Mom and Dad were married.” Beth looked up and caught her brother’s gaze.

“I know I shouldn’t have read them. They were private, and I had no right. I put them all back the way they were and sealed up the trunk. I don’t think Dad would ever suspect they had been disturbed.”

“So what did you find out? You obviously have a point to make, don’t you?” Hutch challenged gently.

“Let’s just say that I believe Dad understands you and your relationship with Dave better than you think.”

“W… what?”

“Oh, good grief, look at the time. I’ve got to go. There’s fashionably late, and then there’s Mom is going to kill me, and I’m almost there. Get better, Ken. I love you.” Beth leaned over to place a paper-insulated kiss on Hutch’s cheek, then whirled off the bed and out of the room, leaving a stunned and speechless Hutch to stare after her.

Starsky was smiling when he entered a few minutes later, an obvious lipstick kiss visible on his cheek. “I saw your sister as I was getting off the elevator. Damn, she looked great!”

Hutch took the napkin off his dinner tray and wiped the kiss mark off Starsky’s face when his lover came close enough.

“She brought you a heavy coat; it’s in the outer room. She said it was getting colder out and you might need it.”

“I’m not going anywhere, so what would I need it for?” Starsky asked, plopping down in the chair and resting his feet on the foot of Hutch’s bed.

“I don’t want you to sleep in the chair anymore, or out in the waiting room. Go back to my folk’s house and sleep in a real bed. Take a shower and have a decent meal. I’m doing better, and the vaccine’s working. I don’t think I’m going to get sick like I did the last time.”

“Thanks, but I’ll stay. You weren’t all that sick the first day or so you were in the hospital in LA either,” Starsky remembered with a shudder. “You trying to get rid of me, so you can make time with the nurses?”

“Not hardly. I just want you to know that the offer my father made was a genuine one. And I would be okay with you taking him up on it and getting some decent rest.”

“I may be stiff from sleeping in the chair, but I’ll sleep better being next to you than if I was in a great bed across town.” Starsky rested his hand on Hutch’s arm, giving it a squeeze.

“Have you called Dobey?” Hutch asked. “I obviously won’t be at work on Monday.”

“Yep, I called him while they were getting you admitted. You won’t be there on Monday and neither will I.”

“How’d he take that?”

“About like you’d expect until I explained I couldn’t reach you by phone and was afraid to waste any more time. He agreed and was glad to know you were at the hospital getting taken care of. He said there were three more cases of relapse patients in LA. It’s all over the news now. He said the CDC is sending another team to handle it. So maybe we should be glad we’re here where it’s quiet and there aren’t twenty medical students following around some intern asking the same questions over and over.”

“Never expected to thank God for Minnesota,” Hutch laughed, the laughter turning into a short-lived coughing fit, that all too clearly reminded both men of why they were where they were.

“Here, take a drink of this,” Starsky offered Hutch the juice from his dinner tray. “Eat up, maybe you can digest a little before the night dose of medicine makes you sick again.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re just a ray of sunshine?”

“Yeah, and I didn’t believe you then, either.”

* * * *

Starsky and Hutch passed the evening watching TV and dozing until the nurse entered with the late evening’s medication. The IV was hung and Starsky gathered what he anticipated needing for the night: fresh water with lots of ice in the pitcher, crackers, apple juice, and a handful of wash cloths.

“Why didn’t you take the sleeping pill?” Starsky asked as he toed out of his shoes to make himself more comfortable.

“Because if I’m going to be sick, I don’t want to be so groggy I miss the bucket,” Hutch grumbled, rubbing over his stomach, as the growling beginning there was clearly audible.

“How’s your head?” Starsky asked.

“It hurts, but not too bad. I’m getting hot again though,” Hutch said as he pushed back the covers and tugged at the neck of the hospital gown.

Starsky dampened a washcloth in the cold water from Hutch’s pitcher and placed it over Hutch’s neck. Hutch closed his eyes and relaxed under the welcomed cold. He drifted off toward a fitful sleep knowing Starsky was standing guard and would be there if he needed anything. Tomorrow when Hutch was feeling better, Starsky would doze in the chair while Hutch watched. That’s just the way things were between them and he was grateful.

His last thought before he slept was to be sure and tell his lover thank you. Such a simple thing, yet they rarely said it to each other. It was almost as if the care was a given, a natural foundation of their love, so therefore no thanks were necessary. He thought briefly of the conversation with his sister about his father and the relationship with his mother’s brother. If his father really did understand him and Starsky, as his sister believed, then he felt a wave of pity for his Dad and the loss he’d suffered. Maybe that explained a lot about the emotionally closed-off man he’d grown up with. Hutch believed his whole life that it was his own failure to be what the old man wanted, that caused his perpetual air of unhappiness. Maybe Hutch had absolutely nothing to do with it. If not for Starsky in his life, wouldn’t Hutch be a very different person? With a sigh, Hutch silently prayed he’d never have to find out.