Table of Contents
A blinding bright light greeted him as he regained consciousness. There were straps over his ankles, wrists and chest, firmly securing him to a gurney. People were hovering over him, their faces obscured by surgical masks.
A syringe hovered over his field of vision, passed from one faceless person to another.
Something made of rubber was shoved between his teeth.
He felt a sting in his right arm.
Then the pain began.
(This is certainly the most disturbing fan fic I’ve written. It started off a short potential Zine story and then got away from me.)
Chapter 1 – Month One
Hutch was on his third beer of the night and was yet to feel any different. No buzz, no light-headedness, no artificial joy. He clearly needed a fourth.
He got up to get another beer from the fridge, but found it empty. He’d clearly spent too many nights doing the same thing.
It had been over a week since Starsky left him. Just like that, partnership and friendship over. Maybe it hadn’t been that simple, but it had felt like it at the time.
“I’ve decided to go back to New York.”
“What? For how long?”
“A few weeks, a month…I don’t know yet.”
“A month!? But why?”
“Nothing has gone right lately. The shooting, ma’s death while I was in the hospital, being unfit for active duty, that stupid thing with Kira. It just seems to be one bad thing after the other and I’m tired of it. I need to get away. I need a break from this stinking city.”
“You need a break from me too?”
“Things have been…weird between us. Before the shooting you were distant. And since the shooting you’ve been more like a nurse maid than a friend. It got a little too…suffocating. Maybe the space will do us both some good.”
“Shouldn’t I have a say in that? You want to put a whole country between us? You really need that much space?”
“It won’t be forever. Maybe not even a month, I don’t know, I just…I need to work some things out. And I need to do that away from here.”
“Well, I hope you work it all out. But don’t count on me waiting for you.”
Hutch had stormed off, regretting those words the moment he got back to his apartment. He didn’t want those to be the last words between them, but when he tried to ring Starsky the following morning he got no reply. After a day of stewing over his reaction, he decided to go over to Starsky’s apartment, but there was someone else living there. A man was subletting the apartment while Starsky was away. He informed Hutch that Starsky left only a few hours ago. He’d left a simple note apologising for giving him so little notice and that he’d contact him when he was back.
After that there was nothing. No calls, no letters. Not a word.
Every night their last conversation went round in Hutch’s head. Every time he wondered what he could have said to make Starsky stay. There was one very important thing that he might have said that could have changed things, but it could have also made things worse.
Hutch had first realised he was in love with Starsky after an undercover job where he had to pretend to be a doctor and sew up a criminal’s leg. They’d been messing around in the kitchen the next day and Starsky ended up with cake on his face. That night Hutch had a dream he was licking it off Starsky’s body. Realising that wasn’t a normal thing to want to do to a friend, he had a heart to heart with himself and it hit him. He was IN love with his partner. At first he ignored it, buried his feelings and without realising it, found himself keeping his distance a little from Starsky. They still hung out, were still friends, but something was missing. Their connection was off.
After Starsky’s near fatal shooting, Hutch decided he had to say something. But every time he tried to bring it up, he froze. What if Starsky didn’t share his affections? The longer he put it off the harder he found the words to say. So he waited. Starsky got better, gained his strength and finally Hutch was going to do it. Unfortunately the day he chose was the day Starsky found out he was unfit for active duty. He would be chained to a desk for the rest of his career. After hearing that bombshell Hutch decided to keep quiet. Starsky went out and got pissed.
He was close to making his confession the day they had their last conversation. They had been in The Pits at the time, and Hutch was determined to be the first to talk, but Starsky just beat him to it. If only he’d been a little quicker. If only he could have gone first…
With no beer left in the apartment, Hutch decided to go to bed. However, without the beer to lull him into a stupor he found it hard to drift off. He spent at least an hour staring up at the ceiling, their last conversation doing the rounds in his head again, taunting him. He turned on his side and tried to think of anything else. He made a mental note to buy some more beer.
***
A blinding bright light greeted him as he regained consciousness. There were straps over his ankles, wrists, and chest, firmly securing him to a gurney. People were hovering over him, their faces obscured by surgical masks.
A syringe hovered over his field of vision, passed from one faceless person to another.
Something made of rubber was shoved between his teeth.
He felt a sting in his right arm.
Then the pain began.
***
Hutch took a sip of his beer, placed it down on the table and stared at the phone. He’d been repeating this action for the last hour, trying to build up the nerve while also trying to talk himself out of what he wanted to do. He wanted to call Starsky. Just a causal call to see how things were going. He didn’t actually have a number to call, so he was going to call Nick Starsky. It was the only link he had.
He finished off the bottle and went to get another one. If he was drunk enough he might finally have the guts. However, he knew from experience that making phone calls while drunk were a bad idea. If he made too much of a fool of himself he could put Starsky off coming back.
Hutch stopped in front of the sofa, beer in hand. Maybe he was being selfish. He hated the way Starsky went about it, but he couldn’t really be angry at him for wanting to get away. New York was probably the best place for him to work out his issues. Far enough away to almost feel like he was in another country, but with streets and people he recognised. A comforting familiar place. That he couldn’t feel angry about.
And maybe he could understand why Starsky wanted a break from him. He may not have liked the way Starsky explained it, but looking back Hutch had been a little…suffocating. Maybe to make up for how distant he’d been before, or his fear of losing Starsky had made him clingy. Hutch had practically moved in with Starsky so he could be there for him through every step of his recovery. Even when Starsky was well enough to look after himself, Hutch felt he needed to be there. But had he been there to support his friend or look after him? He wanted to be there for him as a lover, but he’d become a carer instead.
Hutch put the beer back in the fridge and went back to the couch. He wasn’t going to call. He just needed to wait and let Starsky have his time to think. That wasn’t to say things would just go back to normal when he came back, but hopefully they could work things out.
For the first time since Starsky left, Hutch went to bed that night with no conversations in his head.
***
Starsky didn’t remember much about his first week in this…place. He may have had a concussion or he was heavily drugged. Or both. The few things he did remember included throwing up in the toilet of his tiny cell and having a massive headache. He couldn’t even remember how he’d got here. He’d been in the Torino, driving to New York when…
The second week was when they started the experiments. They kept it light at first. Lotions that sometimes stung, but sometimes soothed. Tablets that were meant to cure his headache, but only made it worse. Then there was the injection. He had no idea what it was meant to do, but it felt like they’d injected acid into his veins.
When he tried to ask where he was, he got ignored. When he demanded to know why he was there, they gagged him and left him restrained in his cell. And a cell was exactly what it was. All it contained was a bed and a toilet. No window. All he had to wear was a pair of blue hospital-style scrubs. No shoes or socks. He was always cold. It was like being in prison.
“I’m not a good test subject!” he yelled at them. “I don’t even have a spleen!”
That comment finally earned him a visit from one of the heavies. He’d nicknamed the two huge guys as Rocky and Bull. They were both over 6’5 and built like wrestlers. One was bald with cold, blue eyes (Bull) and the other had jet-black hair and a crooked nose (Rocky). Usually when they visited they would just drag him out of the cell and into The Room, but this time Rocky just stood in the doorway.
“I guess you haven’t learned to shut up yet?” Rocky asked.
“I won’t until you let me go,” Starsky said, getting close to the man.
“Maybe you need a little reality check, pal…”
“No, I think you do,” Starsky cut in. “You’ve kidnapped a cop, do you know how serious that is?”
“You’re not a cop anymore. You resigned.”
“That’s not true,” Starsky lied. “I just…took a leave of absence.”
Rocky smiled. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “Call it what you will. Either way, no one’s going to find you here. No one’s even going to look for you.”
“That’s what you think. Hutch will look for me…he’ll…”
“Not after he reads this letter.” The heavy pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and threw it on the bed. Starsky was hesitant to pick it up, but his curiosity got the better of him. He read it to himself.
“He won’t believe it,” Starsky said after reading it through twice.
“Won’t he?” Rocky sneered. “You left him after a nasty fight. And with a few…personal touches added in, I think he’ll believe it.”
“How did you find out about…” Starsky didn’t finish. He ripped the letter into pieces.
“That’s just a copy. Your old partner should get the real one tomorrow.”
“He won’t believe it!” Starsky shouted. “He’s a detective, you can’t fool him that easily.”
“You keep believing that if you must.” Rocky took a step into the room. “But it’s easier if you just accept you’re alone here and you’re never getting out.”
Starsky turned his back to Rocky, but then quickly turned and tried to run through the small gap between the big man and the door. He was too slow. Rocky grabbed him by the throat and threw him on the bed.
“Next time I won’t be so gentle,” Rocky warned before stepping out of the cell and closing the door.
Starsky lay on the bed, staring at the remains of the letter on the floor. Hutch would never believe it. At least, the old Hutch wouldn’t. The one who hadn’t been abandoned by his partner. Would he believe Starsky would so easily abandon him for good without at least leaving a number? He said he’d be back, he never said he was leaving for good…but the letter…
“Please don’t believe it,” Starsky whispered. “Please Hutch.”
***
“One more Huggy,” Hutch pushed the empty glass to the barman.
Shaking his head, Huggy reluctantly poured the drink. “You know, despite what I tell my other patrons, alcohol will not cure your troubles.”
“Not looking for a cure, Hug, just a damn drink.” Hutch crushed a couple of peanuts in his hand and threw them in his mouth.
“Have you still not heard anything from him?” Huggy asked, handing his friend the beer.
Hutch took a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I got this today.” He pushed it across the bar. “Read it.”
Huggy took the piece of paper and read. The letter had been typed.
“Dear Hutch,
I’m sorry for telling you this way, but I’ve decided to stay in New York. I got myself a job as a night watchman. It’s pretty boring, but it’s a good company with some nice people. I’ve reconnected with some old friends and I’ve met someone. Her name is Wendy and she’s a teacher. She’s smart, beautiful and just perfect. Reminds me a lot of Terry. I hope you can meet her one day, but I’ll leave that up to you.
I don’t want this to be the end of our friendship, but I understand this will have come as a shock to you. I understand you may need some time, but if you want to get in touch, please reply to this letter.
I’m really sorry, pal. I hope you can understand.
Starsk”
“That’s cold,” Huggy said, handing back the paper. “No call, just a crummy letter. I can’t believe he’d do that.”
Hutch screwed up the edge of the letter in his hand. “A punch to the gut would have hurt less.”
“I gotta say, this doesn’t really feel like Starsky. I would never believe he’d act like this.”
“Wouldn’t you? When something upsets him he mopes in solitude. And falling for a girl in the span of a few weeks? He’s done that before.”
“Are you going to reply?” Huggy asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Hutch took a couple of sips of his beer.
“The man couldn’t even leave you a phone number.”
“Probably doesn’t want to talk directly to me.” Hutch thumped the bar. “He’s a stinking coward. After everything we’ve been through, everything I’ve done for him. He just tosses it away.”
“That’s why I’m having a hard time believing this is really Starsky’s hand.”
“The shooting changed him, Hug.” He sipped his beer. “I could understand him wanting to get away from this city. Hell, I’ve thought about leaving a lot in the last couple of years. Last time I went back to Duluth I was tempted to stay, leave all the bad memories behind, but I couldn’t leave Starsky. He’s the one thing that kept me coming back. But I guess I wasn’t enough for him.”
He downed the rest of his beer. There was nothing more Huggy could say so he silently poured Hutch another.
Chapter 2 – Month Two
“Hutch, in my office,” Dobey said as he walked through the squad room.
Hutch closed the file he’d been half paying attention to and followed his captain into the office.
“Sit down,” Dobey ordered a little gruffly.
“If it’s about the Mason report, I was only a day late…”
“It’s not about that.” Dobey took a seat behind his desk. Whatever news he was about to deliver he didn’t look happy about it. Hutch perched on the edge of a chair.
“You’re not going to like this, but I’m afraid my hands are tied.” He hesitated another moment. “I’m assigning you a new partner.”
Hutch had been expecting this. “I told you before I don’t want another partner…”
“Yeah, and that was fine while you were working on the Gunther case. And I’ve managed to keep you on desk duty recently as a curtsey, but I can’t have one of my most experienced officers on the bench and you can’t go back on the streets without a partner.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be out on the streets anymore.” He got up and started pacing the office.
“Then you’ll have to resign or move departments and I know you don’t really want to do either of those.” Dobey softened his voice. “Please Hutch, just give it a chance. I know it won’t be the same, but you have to move on.”
Hutch stopped by the water cooler and glared at his Captain. “Why do you have to make it sound like I got been dumped.”
“Didn’t you?”
Hutch clenched his fist and nearly punched the wall, but he caught his emotions just in time. He couldn’t deny Dobey was right, he had been dumped. And he was on the rebound, which never ended well. But what could he do. He’d thought about quitting ever since Starsky left, but what else could he do? He’d been a cop for so long, he didn’t have many other options.
Hutch took one of the cone shaped cups and filled it with water. He wished it was vodka.
“Who do you have in mind?” Hutch asked before downing the water.
“John Barrett. He just transferred from San Francisco. He’s pretty young…”
“A rookie?” He scrunched the cup and threw it aggressively in the bin. “You’re giving me some snot nosed rookie?”
“He’s been a detective for over a year,” Dobey pointed out. “He’s still a little green, but I thought he could benefit from your experience.”
Hutch wanted to tell Dobey and his new partner to shove it. He wanted to storm out of the office and never come back. But he couldn’t. He understood where Dobey was coming from and the pressure he was under. On some level he’d always understood that he’d be given a new partner at some point, just never thought the day would actually come.
Rationally he understood it all, but it still felt like he was betraying Starsky. That thought made him want to laugh. Starsky had already betrayed him and in a much worse way. This could almost be seen as payback. Not that Starsky would ever know. Unless Starsky did come back one day. It was foolish for him to want that, but it was still in the back of his mind. The part of him that wanted that was the part that was still in love with him. The lustful school boy part who naively thought their true love would come back to them in time. That part of him needed to grow up.
“Fine, I’ll take him,” Hutch said bitterly.
Dobey sighed with relief. “Good. You’ll both be on the streets tomorrow.”
Hutch nodded and left without another word.
***
Every day Starsky tried to escape. He would ram himself against the door, attack anyone who came into his cell, even fake a heart attack, but nothing worked. The one time he did get out of the door he was tackled by the two heavies, who dragged him back in and strapped him to the bed.
He would never stop trying to escape. Never make it easy for them. He couldn’t rely on Hutch or anyone else coming to his aid so he had get himself out.
When Rocky and Bull came for him he struggled as usual, tried to bite the hands that grabbed him, but it was no use. They strapped him to the gurney and rolled him into The Room where they ran their experiments. Where they treated him like a lab rat.
He prepared himself for whatever it was this time. Hopefully it wouldn’t hurt. The burns on his left arm were still healing. The cream they’d put on them had only made them worse.
“What have you freaks cooked up this time?” He spat, as he struggled against the restraints. “Why don’t you try it on yourselves for once.”
Ignoring his suggestion a woman in a lab coat strapped a thick, rubber mask over his nose and mouth. Seconds later gas began to flow. It smelled funny. At first it made him cough and then it made him gasp. His lungs were burning. He couldn’t breathe! He thrashed on the bed, trying desperately to draw a breath. He looked up at the faces above him, begging them silently for help, but they did nothing. The woman made a note on her chart, but nothing more.
As he was about to pass out they removed the mask. He desperately tried to breathe in a lung full or air but even with the mask gone, he couldn’t breathe. His lungs had seized up.
The people around him just watched as he gasped and bucked on the bed, trying desperately to breathe.
With black spots circling his vision, one of the men injected him with a syringe. It didn’t appear to do anything at first, but then, slowly, he found he could take little breaths. It felt like he had the lung capacity of a hummingbird, but he could breath. It wasn’t enough and he started to feel light-headed.
Whether out of pity or just part of the experiment, the woman strapped an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. The whoosh of oxygen was like breaking the surface of the ocean. He took immense pleasure in simply drawing in lungfuls of the blessed gas.
Until it was taken away and the cycle repeated itself.
***
It was their third night on Stakeout and still nothing had happened. Huggy had tipped Hutch off about a big drug score going down near the docks, but he had no idea exactly when. He just knew it was soon. Hutch and Barrett had been ordered to stake the place every night until it happened. If nothing else it was a good way to get to know his new partner. In the time since Hutch had agreed to working with Barrett that hadn’t spent much time talking. They did their patrols, they talked to snitches, they put away a few criminals, but nothing big. This would be their biggest bust and Hutch had the impression it was making his new partner nervous. At least that’s how Hutch explained the kids no stop babbling.
“So, I understand a girl can have male friends,” Barrett said sounding anything but understanding, “but she spends why too much time with this one guy, Victor. They go to lunch together, the disco together. They even went shopping. I know they’re sleeping together, but when I accuse her, she gets angry and storms off.”
Hutch only half listened. He was trying to focus his attention on the warehouse in front of them, but nothing was happening, not even a cat raiding the bins.
“And then there’s this guy Pierre,” Barrett continued. “He’s from France and apparently gay. Like that’s meant to make me less suspicious. Makes me more suspicious. Oh and then there’s this guy Mark…” Barrett stopped himself when he finally realised Hutch wasn’t listening to him.
“Do you have a girl?” he asked, taking Hutch by surprise.
“What? Oh, no.”
“Ever been married?”
“Yes and I wouldn’t recommend it unless you completely trust your girlfriend.”
“I wasn’t going to…” He stopped. “Well, not any time soon.”
The car fell silent. Hutch took his binoculars out and took a look around. He knew there was nothing out there to see, he just wanted to pretend to be doing something. Maybe to keep Barrett quiet.
They weren’t clicking.
It was always going to be hard. Breaking in a new partner was always tough, especially when the kid was still relatively fresh. And when Hutch was still trying to get over the loss of Starsky.
With Starsky, they’d clicked right away. From their first meeting at the academy to their first day in uniform and beyond. Hutch had always assumed their partnership was one of a kind, impossible to replicate. So far that theory was proving correct, even though it was still early days. He didn’t expect to form a friendship with Barrett right away and deep down he knew he didn’t want one. It would take time and more work than Hutch was willing to put in. But what could he do? He didn’t want to quit the force, he wasn’t allowed to stay behind a desk, but he didn’t want to be on the streets either.
Hutch sighed and took a sideways look at his new partner. At least he didn’t look anything like Starsky. The kid had straight light brown hair and the beginnings of a moustache.
“Hey, tomorrow we should check out this place I just found that’s supposed to sell the best burritos in the city,” Barrett said suddenly. “It’s down by the docks called…”
“Pedros?” Hutch guessed
“Yeah, that’s the place. You been?”
Hutch looked back through the binoculars. “In a manner of speaking.”
It had been one of Starsky’s favourites. It had been the first place he’d eaten at once he was given the go ahead to eat spicy food again.
“You’re not a fan of flashy cars by any chance?” Hutch asked.
“Not really, I keep meaning to replace the Chevy. Used to be my mums.”
“Good,” was all Hutch said before settling down in his seat.
“So anyway, there’s this other friend of hers…”
***
He was out!
It had all been thanks to a lucky punch that caught Bull in the right spot to knock him down. They’d only sent in one guard, thinking he was too weak to fight back. After the successful sucker punch Starsky ran down the corridor, having no clue where he was going. He knew roughly where The Room was and stirred clear off it. He ran past other cells, all containing other unfortunate lab rats. As much as he wanted to let him out too he couldn’t slow down.
He made a turning at a junction, spotting a door at the end of another corridor. Freedom. After so long. He just prayed it wasn’t locked. He took off running as fast as he could manage, his tortured lungs heaving all the way. He saw not another soul as he ran, making him wonder how few people staffed this place. It didn’t matter, they were all going to jail when he got out and told his story. Each one of them would pay for the suffering they’d caused. Hutch would make sure of it. Hutch would make everything right. And Starsky would make everything right with Hutch. Whatever it took…
Something hard and sharp hit his shoulder. The impact made him stumble, but didn’t stop him. The sudden light-headedness and drowsiness slowed him down just as he reached the door. His knees went weak and decided they couldn’t hold his weight. He collapsed face down on the floor.
Rocky and Bull stood over him. In his half-conscious state Starsky tried to look up at them, but couldn’t move. Rocky removed the dart from his back and picked him up, holding him upright. Bull struck him across the face leaving him even more dazed and with a massive headache.
“That’s payback,” the man said. He then helped his colleague lift Starsky on to a gurney and instead of taking him back to his cell, they took him to The Room.
They left him underneath the blinding lights, returning a few minutes later with the female scientist.
“He tried to escape,” Bull explained. “Nearly got to the door.”
“I told you this one would be a challenge.” She checked her chart. “I’ll leave you to decide his punishment, but remember the rules this time.”
Bull smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant sight. He took a firm hold of Starsky’s right arm and hand and with one quick motion snapped his wrist.
Chapter 3 – Month Three
Hutch was actually having fun. He was even smiling a little.
He’d thought about missing the office Christmas party, but Dobey had practically ordered him to attend. Originally he was going to make a quick stop, just to say hi and have a beer. But he got talking to Minnie and found he couldn’t get away without being rude. So he stayed, he chatted and even enjoyed a couple of cocktail sausages while discussing Minnie’s favourite singers.
Barrett was there with his girlfriend who looked less happy to be there than Hutch. She was blonde, beautiful and very much the type who would cheat on Barrett. Hutch gave them both a greeting, but headed to the refreshment table before they could engage in conversation. There he was joined by Sergeant Ted Sullivan. He was a slightly over weight man, with a comb over and a thick moustache. They’d never worked together directly on any case, but had known each other since they were both in uniform.
“Hey Hutchie,” Ted said, slapping him on the back. “How are things with the new guy?”
“They’re…progressing,” Hutch said, looking over his shoulder at Barrett, who was trying to have a quiet argument with his girlfriend. “How are the kids?”
“Betty starts high school in the fall and Marcus has discovered Aerosmith and spends all his time singing loudly.”
“At least he has a hobby now.”
“Yeah, but why couldn’t he like the Carpenters.”
Hutch snickered.
“Have you heard from that wayward ex partner of yours?” Ted asked.
Hutch stopped smiling. “No. Not recently.”
“That’s shitty.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe he took off like that. I mean, I get being bummed about not getting cleared for active duty, but to just pack up and leave like that. And to not even call? I mean, you guys were really tight…”
“Yeah, we were, look Ted, I’m not really in the mood to talk about Starsky.”
“Don’t even think about him. The guy was a bum.”
“He was not!” Hutch snapped. “You don’t know what you’re talking about…” He trailed off when he noticed other people looking at him. “Just leave it.”
“Hey, man, I’m on your side. The guy was scum…”
Hutch lashed out, knocking Ted to the ground with one good punch to the jaw. The detective was stunned for a moment, but quickly got to his feet and tackled Hutch around the middle, knocking them both down.
They wrestled on the floor, each one trying to get on top of the other and knocking the refreshment table over in the process. Hutch got another punch in, but Ted blocked the follow up and punched Hutch in the gut.
“Stop this now!” Dobey’s voice boomed over them.
Barrett grabbed the back of Hutch’s shirt and pulled him up, while Dobey did the same to Ted.
“He hit me first, Captain,” Ted said, shrugging himself free.
“You were being an asshole,” Hutch said.
“I was just telling you the truth. Why are you getting so mad over your deadbeat partner?”
Hutch lunged for Ted again, but Barrett and another cop held him back.
“That’s enough, Hutchinson!” Dobey hollered. “Ted, go get yourself cleaned up and keep your mouth shut. Hutch, come with me.”
Ted was led off by his wife, who straightened his clothes as they went. Barrett let Hutch go and he followed Dobey out of the canteen and into his office.
“What was all that about?” Dobey asked, his voice a little softer.
“Just teaching Ted to keep his mouth shut.”
“He was bad mouthing Starsky, wasn’t he?” Dobey shook his head. “Not sure why you care. I’ve heard you bad mouthing Starsky to Huggy.”
“That’s different…that’s…” Was it different? Why was it different for him to trash talk Starsky than for Ted to? Maybe it was his choice of words. For all his faults, Starsky wasn’t scum, Hutch had never called him that or thought that. Even now.
What he really needed to ask himself was why he still cared what people thought of Starsky. Their friendship was over, he had no loyalty to Starsky anymore and yet hearing those words come out of Ted’s mouth had just made him so angry.
He knew why. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew. He was still in love with the man. That love hadn’t just gone away with Starsky, as much as he wished it had. It was there and as long as he held onto that love, he would always take any assault on Starsky’s name personally.
“It won’t happen again,” Hutch said, lamely.
“It better not,” Dobey patted him on the shoulder. “I know it’s tough. I’m glad you came to the party today. I hope it’s been worth it for you.”
Hutch smiled a little. “It has. Thanks Cap, but I think I’m going to go.”
“Don’t let Ted drive you away. You haven’t had any Christmas cake yet. Edith made it specially.”
Hutch tried to think of a good argument against, but he really couldn’t turn down Edith’s cake. He nodded and followed his Captain back to the party.
***
They strapped a belt across his chest and another around his left ankle. At the bottom of the bed there was some kind of machine with a motor. Whatever it was designed to do, Starsky knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant.
He’d expected them to break his legs. Having his wrist broken, which was now in a cast, hadn’t stopped him from trying to escape and while he’d gotten out of his cell a couple more times, he’d yet to make it to the door again. He was either chased down or tranquillized. He should be thankful they hadn’t broken the other arm yet.
The machine suddenly started up and instantly Starsky could feel his leg stretching, being pulled towards the machine. The strap around his chest stopped him from being pulled along too. The stretching continued and the longer it went the more it started to hurt. Were they trying to rip his leg off?
Then there was a sickening pop and a sudden, agonizing pain in his hip.
“You…fucking sadists!” he screamed.
Something was shoved between his teeth to shut him up.
The pain was incredible. He tried to breathe through it, but his lungs were still weak and he choked. He was just about able to move his head enough to look down at his leg. It didn’t look right. It was rotated inwards and looked smaller than the other. He tried to move it, but even a slight twitch of his toes caused immense pain.
The female scientist made a note on her clipboard and then nodded to Rocky who unstrapped Starsky from the bed and dumped him on a gurney causing even more pain. They rolled the gurney into the room next door which had an x-ray machine in. They took some x-rays, not caring that their manipulating of his hip was causing agony.
Once they were finished they all left. No further tests, no poking or prodding, they just left him strapped to a bed with a painfully dislocated hip.
He had to shut out the pain. There was no way of knowing how long they’d be gone. He closed his eyes and found himself thinking of Hutch. He tried to picture him the way he’d been the last time they’d met. No, that was not a good image. He thought further back, to before the shooting, before he’d grown that moustache. He’d never been a fan of it.
He went back further, to every time Hutch had been there when Starsky needed him. Holding him while he was dying. Drinking and laughing with him when he needed cheering up. Coming to his rescue when he was about to be sacrificed. Hutch had always been there. Always when he needed him. All he had to do was melt into those arms and know it would all be okay.
Why had he traded those happy times for this Hell?
He wanted so badly to go back in time, back to that night he’d told Hutch he was leaving and take it all back. He understood why he needed time away from Bay City, but why from Hutch? Well, he knew. Deep down her knew. He’d not wanted to admit it to Hutch or himself. That’s the real reason he’d run away. Wasn’t it?
Sometime later they came back.
By now Starsky’s hip was swollen and discoloured. He’d managed to block out the pain a little, but it all came back the moment they touched the joint. One of them held up a big syringe and plunged it into Starsky’s hip. He barely registered the sting, but soon after the pain started to recede. Not entirely, but it was now at least tolerable. He was so grateful for the relief that he almost said thank you. They took some more x-rays and then with a lot of effort they slotted the hip joint back in.
Starsky finally passed out from the pain.
***
Hutch woke that day feeling none of the Yuletide joy he’d seen other people supposable feel all month. He had Christmas Day off which was nice and would probably have spent it alone at home if Dobey hadn’t invited him over for dinner. He knew it was a pity invite, but it was nice not to be alone at Christmas.
Hutch sat up in bed and looked at the clock. 8am. At least he’d had a little lie in. He threw the covers aside and headed to the kitchen.
After making himself a cup of coffee, he checked the mail from the previous day. There was a bill, a magazine meant for next door and a big wad of Christmas cards. He wondered why people still bothered sending him any since he usually made his feelings on Christmas loudly known.
He took a seat on the couch and opened each one.
The first was a lovely card from his parents with the picture of a cow wearing a Santa hat. Enclosed was a letter wishing him a pleasant Christmas and to inform him that a present was on its way.
The next was a colourful card from his sister with an invite to come visit her for New Years.
There was a big card from Huggy with a voucher for a free beer tucked inside.
There was even a card from Barrett; signed only by him.
The rest were from various relatives and friends.
While Hutch was grateful for all the cards there was one missing. It’s absence actually made Hutch a little mad. It was now over 2 months since Starsky’s letter and no further word. Not even a stinking Christmas card. That said a lot. Usually Starsky gave him one in spite of how much Hutch disliked Christmas.
Then again, Hutch hadn’t tried to contact him. He’d considered writing a reply to Starsky’s letter. He’d even started a few times, but had no idea what to say. Was he happy for his friend? No, he wasn’t. Did he want to meet this new woman? No, he didn’t. Could he lie and say he was happy for them? No, he couldn’t.
And that said it all. So he said nothing.
He kept Starsky’s letter, thinking maybe one day he’d have the guts to reply, but with Starsky not even bothering to send him a Christmas card, he considered burning it.
Maybe a time would come when he could be happy for his friend, put his feelings aside and forget the hurt he’d caused. He couldn’t see that day coming any time soon though.
Hutch threw the cards on the table by the couch and sighed. “Merry Christmas Starsk,” he said bitterly.
***
They’d forced his mouth open with some metal contraption. Rocky was holding his head down with one powerful hand, while a male scientist was hovering over him with a pair of dental pliers.
It was all straight out of Starsky’s nightmares. He had to close his eyes.
The scientist not so gently shoved the tool into Starsky’s mouth and gripped one of his back teeth. He’d been given no anesthetic so he felt every twist and pull as the tooth was slowly loosened and then yanked from his mouth.
He screamed but was unable to close his mouth. He watched through tears of pain as the scientist held up the bloody tooth before dropping it into a Petri dish held by the female scientist.
“Merry Christmas, my dear.”
Chapter 4 – Month Four
As first dates went, Hutch had certainly had worse. In his first year at the academy Colby had set him up with a very beautiful, charming young lady he claimed was a cousin of his. Turned out she was obsessed with taxidermy and had all her old pet cats stuffed and placed around the house. There was no second date.
Sylvia was also beautiful and charming, but had yet to display any creepy character traits. Unfortunately, Hutch wasn’t feeling any attraction to the lady. He’d only agreed to go on the date to shut Huggy up. The man kept on telling him he needed to do something with his evenings besides drinking and playing pool.
Hutch wanted to tell Huggy that he had no interest in dating anyone, that it was too soon, but Huggy didn’t know about his feelings for Starsky. While Huggy might understand, Hutch just didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to bury those feelings so deep they could never resurface and not talking about it helped.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” Sylvia said as they reached the front door of her apartment.
“Thank you for being wonderful company,” Hutch said, smiling politely.
“I’m glad we finally did this. Huggy was right, you are rather charming.”
Hutch looked down at his shoes, a little embarrassed. “Who am I to argue with Huggy.”
“Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked. Hutch looked into her eyes. He knew what she was really offering. She was being very forward for a first date. Hutch had learned the hard way not to jump in the sack with someone after one date. Then again, she was a friend of Huggy.
She touched his hand. She was very beautiful and it had been a long time. The last time was with…Kira.
“It’s pretty late and…” And what? A woman was offering him sex. He hadn’t had it in a long time and he certainly wasn’t going to get any from the one person he wanted it from most. It had been over 3 months, he had to get over Starsky some time and maybe this would help.
He took her in his arms and kissed her. Softly at first, but then with more need. She kissed back with the same amount of enthusiasm. She broke away briefly to open the door and they made out all the way to the bed.
Two hours later, Hutch left, feeling empty. It had helped in the moment, but left him longing for something real.
***
He couldn’t feel his legs.
They’d jabbed his spine with a number of injections and now he was paralysed from the waist down. While the lack of sensation was terrifying, it did take away the pain from his hip. If there was one thing he’d learned during his time in this lab was to focus on the little positives. However, he couldn’t help hyperventilating a little at the prospect of never getting the feeling back again.
They began poking and prodding his toes, feet and legs, making their way up to his knees and then to his pelvis. He couldn’t feel any of it which was just as well. They were using some horribly sharp instruments.
Satisfied the drugs were doing what they were supposed to do, the scientists turned him on his side and delivered more injections into his spine, only further up his back. Starsky didn’t notice anything at first, until his hands started to tingle. They continued their poking, focusing on his arms and stomach. Most of which he could feel. This didn’t please the scientists and they turned him over again, this time injecting the back of his neck.
First his hands went numb, then he couldn’t move or feel his entire upper body. Then his chest tightened up and he couldn’t breathe. It was worse than the time they’d gassed him. That time he could at least breathe a little, but now his lungs were completely paralysed, like the rest of his body.
He wanted to scream as loudly as his lungs screamed for air, but he couldn’t. There was nothing he could do, he was trapped in a useless body, surrounded by uncaring monsters.
After struggling to breath for what was only a few seconds, one of the scientists not so gently slid a tube down his throat and connected it to a ventilator. The pace was slow, but at least he was getting air.
The scientists resumed their poking, their main focus was now on the scars on his chest. Starsky couldn’t feel any of it. And now that he was forced to stare at the ceiling he couldn’t see them very easily either. He tried to block the unwanted thoughts that tried speculating what they were going to do with him in this state and whether it would be permanent. He couldn’t think about that. This had to be temporary. What good would he be as a test subject if he couldn’t feel anything. But then again they didn’t always know the results of their testing. It was possible they didn’t even know how this drug worked. For his own sanity, he had to block out those thoughts.
When they were done, they left him. All but the female scientist. She lingered behind standing above his head staring down at his motionless body.
She’d never done this before.
She took off her surgical mask and started moving around his body, looking at it as if she was only now seeing it as more than a slab of meat to experiment on.
It was hard to judge her age, but she looked around 40, and had long brown hair tied back in a bun and smooth skin, but her eyes were cold and calculating.
Once she’d worked her way around his body she stopped by his left said and actually smiled.
“You really are a miracle,” she said quietly. “You really shouldn’t be alive.” She ran a hand over one of the scars on his chest. “Even before the shooting. You should never have survived that poisonous compound. Not so late in the timetable. And yet you did. Amazing resistance.”
She looked him straight in the eyes for the first time. “That’s why I wanted you.”
Wanted him? Starsky narrowed his eyes at the lady, trying to place her face. She wasn’t familiar at all.
“You won’t know me,” she said, noticing his concentration. “We’ve never met. I read about your shooting in the paper. It amazed me. I had to know how you’d survived so I got a copy of your medical records. I know people in many places. I read them over and over again, hardly able to believe you’d survived such damage and all the complications afterwards. And while your recovery wasn’t 100%, I knew you’d make a good test subject. So far you haven’t disappointed me.”
Starsky had been wrong all this time. He’d assumed he’d been a random, unfortunate victim, but in fact he’d been purposely selected. Was that all he was good for now? Couldn’t be a cop, but he could be a class A test subject.
She leaned in closer. He could feel her breath on his face. “I wonder how much more you can take.”
She stepped away from the bed, leaving him to ponder her words. She returned a few minutes later with another scientist. He said nothing while he forced open Starsky’s left eye. The female scientist did the same with the other eye before picking up a little pipette and dropping some liquid into his eyes. It burned instantly, but they wouldn’t let him blink it away. They forced his eyes to stay open while the female scientist looked at him through an Ophthalmoscope. As his vision started to dim, the female nodded to her colleague who put patches over Starsky’s eyes and bandaged them up. Now he was paralysed and blind.
The lady wondered how much more Starsky could take and he didn’t think he could take any more. His body felt like it was trapped in a void. Were they doing to deafen him next? Was this is existence now? It was all too much. He wanted to scream and cry at the same time. But he couldn’t do anything. He was completely helpless.
“Oh God, please, someone help me,” he pleaded silently in his mind.
***
It was a minor wound in the grand scheme of things. He’d certainly had worse, but it still required Hutch to be in the hospital for a few days.
Stupid Barrett. He was supposed to wait for Hutch’s signal to follow him, but the kid mistook a head turn as the signal and went charging in ahead. If Hutch hadn’t been quicker, the kid would have been the one to get shot instead of him.
The bullet wound had pierced Hutch’s upper arm, but had gone all the way through. He lost a fair bit of blood while he waited for help and was going to need physical therapy, but no permanent damage was done. Only to his trust in Barrett.
The kid had come to visit him once he’d been settled in a room and spent a whole ten minutes babbling.
“I’ll take the bullet next time,” Barrett promised. “It was meant for me anyway. Does it hurt? I haven’t been shot yet. Took a knife wound to the leg when I was in uniform.” He showed Hutch the scar. “Helen really loves that one. She’s got a thing for scars. Maybe I should get shot so I can really impress her.”
Hutch had tuned him out at this point. The moment he was gone Hutch rang Dobey to beg him to get rid of Barrett. Dobey promised to reassign the kid elsewhere and get Hutch a new partner. Hutch insisted again he didn’t want a new partner, but Dobey still insisted he needed one.
As he lay in the hospital bed alone, trying to ignore the ache in his arm he wished Starsky was with him. Since being on the force he’d never suffered an injury without having his partner by his side to provide comfort, or to cheer him up. It felt so wrong to suffer alone.
Maybe if Starsky knew Hutch was in the hospital he’d come back? He hated himself for thinking that. It was such a needy thought. And would he really want Starsky with him now. After all the time apart would it really give him any comfort?
Hutch sighed. The only thing he knew for sure right now was he didn’t want another partner and he knew of a way to make that possible. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready to take that step.
***
The paralysis wore off three days later.
It had been gradual. First, he felt tingling in his fingers and toes, then the pains from his hip and wrist came back. When he could finally breath for himself again, they took the tube out and sent him back to his cell. They also took the bandages off his eyes, but it made no difference. His world was still dark. He wasn’t sure if the scientists expected this result as he couldn’t see their expressions and was too distracted by panic to hear their words, but regardless, he was blind.
He lay on the bed where they’d thrown him, not bothering to move. While he was no longer parallelised, there was nothing for him to do, but stare at nothing, trying to ignore the returning pain in his hip.
He made a feeble attempt to get up when he needed to pee, but his arms and legs shook too much and he still couldn’t put much weight on his left leg. In the end he had to blindly crawl slowly over to the toilet and use the wall to lean against while he went. The whole process took so long he nearly wet himself, but he was determined. He may be a broken down wreck, but he refused to soil himself.
Collapsing back on the bed, Starsky tried to sleep. It was his only refuge. The only place they couldn’t hurt him. Only he couldn’t drift off. He was too scared to. Without his sight he had to remain extra vigilant. So he sat up against the wall and tried to stay awake.
As he sat and stared at nothing he came to a horrible realisation: he was never getting free. There was no way he could escape now under his own power and they were going to keep on incapacitating him in some way. Next time they might break his legs or his back. He also gave up on the notion of being rescued. No one knew he was here and if they did, wouldn’t they have found him by now? He had no idea how long he’d been gone, but it had to be many months. Was it a year yet?
Did Hutch know he was here? No, he couldn’t. Hutch thought he was across the country, starting a new life. Hutch hadn’t seen through the letter. He’d believed it, he had to have.
Starsky wondered if Hutch had started a new life yet. Was he happy? Had he forgotten about him yet? Would Hutch really even care if he knew what Starsky was going through. He’d left his best friend, with very little warning and no idea of when he’d be back. Just left him alone after everything they’d been through. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. A phrase that had nearly doomed him before.
Maybe this was his punishment for causing his best friend such hurt. In his mind’s eye he could still see Hutch’s pained expression as he walked out of The Pits that night. It was the last memory of Hutch he had.
But did this punishment really fit his crime? Did he really deserve to suffer like this.
He felt the burn and needle marks spread out over both his skinny arms and the cast still on his wrist. He placed a shaky hand over his flat, empty stomach and took a deep breath that caused a coughing fit. The action aggravated his bad hip.
He shook his head. No one deserved this.
Chapter 5 – Month Five
Hutch stood holding the envelope, turning it over and over in his hands. He was too nervous to open it. The contents would change his entire future and that scared him more than facing down a perp with a gun.
“What are you waiting for?” Dobey asked. “A drum roll?”
Hutch had been carrying the envelope around with him all day, unable to open it until Dobey had noticed and dragged him into his office.
“Just building up the nerve.” He took a breath and ripped open the envelope, pulling out the single piece of paper inside. He took another moment before he looked at the words, reading them slowly to himself.
“Well, what’s it say Hutchinson?”
Hutch smiled. “I think that should be, Lieutenant Hutchinson.”
“Congratulations!” Dobey got up from behind his desk and shook Hutch’s hand. “You deserve it.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Hutch couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. “Feels so serial.”
“I remember the feeling well, but once you get behind that desk and start giving out orders, you’ll feel right at home.”
“I hope so.”
“You should go out and celebrate. Are you still seeing that little blonde lady?”
“Sylvia?” Hutch shook his head. “No, we only had one date.”
“Well, we’ll meet at The Pits tonight to celebrate. That’s the last order I’m going to give you.”
Hutch patted his old boss on the shoulder.
As he left the office he couldn’t help think about what Starsky would think if he knew of Hutch’s promotion. Would he be proud? Shocked? They had talked about it before. Taking the exam together and working in offices across from each other.
Should he write to Starsky to tell him? A friendly, causal letter just giving him the news. Could he take that step? After so many months was it worth it. If Starsky cared he would have contacted Hutch by now, right? A letter or a call, but nothing. Was he still waiting for Hutch to reply to his previous letter from over 4 months ago?
There was a niggling part of his mind, the part he’d tried to ignore that found it all a little suspicious. While Starsky did have a history of being alone when he was depressed, it never lasted this long. Could there be something wrong? The letter he’d sent had been typed instead of handwritten. Could it be a fake?
Hutch shook his head. Between kidnappings, poisonings and crazy cults, it was easy to believe something nefarious had happened to Starsky, but it was more likely that Starsky had moved on, living a happy life with his new girl. Putting his past in Bay City behind him. Their past behind him. Hutch had been trying to do the same and with this promotion he was finally making a new life for himself. He just hoped he was up to the challenge.
Hutch headed to the squad room to give his fellow officers the good news.
***
He was so hungry.
They had tested a new appetite suppressant on him the other day and it worked, in a grotesque way. Instead of putting him off his food, it made him throw up everything he ate. Even water wouldn’t stay down. For two days they kept forcing him to eat, and then watch as he threw it all back up. On the third day he was showing signs of severe dehydration so they stopped trying to feed him and put him on an IV drip. When he tried to take it out, they strapped him down. The drug was wearing off now, but they still wouldn’t feed him. It was now over a week since he’d kept any solid food down.
At least he could see again. Not well, but small miracles.
To distract himself from the hunger pains he thought of Hutch. He did that more and more these days. He’d gone past feeling guilty for leaving and just wanted to be with Hutch again. Even just a fantasy version of him, one that didn’t hate him.
He’d started having dreams where the two of them were together in bed. Hutch holding him close, running his hands through his hair and peppering his face with kisses. He’d never had those dreams before, and would probably have been embarrassed by them in the past, but now, he wanted them to be true more than anything in the world. He wanted Hutch’s strong arms around him. He wanted to see that soft, friendly smile. Feel those strong arms around him.
As he drifted off he saw Hutch’s smiling face above him. They were laying together on the grass in the park. Hutch was shirtless, his blond hair catching the sun. He leaned in and kissed Starsky softly on the mouth. Starsky opened his mouth to let Hutch’s tongue caress his own. The kiss grew more passionate, more intense. Hutch was the first to pull away. Then Hutch was feeding him strawberries dipped in cream. They tasted so succulent. They were followed by grapes and chocolate ice cream. So delicious. All washed down with a glass of cold iced tea.
A dry tongue licked dry lips and he tried to swallow, but couldn’t.
He was awoken by a severe pain in his empty stomach. He wanted to curl himself around it, but the restraints wouldn’t let him. How much longer were they going to leave him like this? What could they learn from starving him.
He looked up at the IV bag on a stand by his bed. With that they could keep him alive for weeks, even months without feeding him.
He shut his eyes and tried to return to his dream.
***
Starsky’s mouth was on his cock, sucking gently at first and then with more vigour. His balls were caressed gently and then tugged. Hutch writhed and bucked on the bed, one hand in-twined in Starsky’s hair, the other holding the bed post with a death grip.
He was being teased with, he knew. Being brought so close to orgasm and then taken away, a routine that had gone on so long Hutch wanted it over with. ‘Let me come, let me come.’
Starsky took Hutch’s cock out of his mouth and looked up at him with a sad smile.
“Don’t…don’t leave me like this,” Hutch begged.
“Only if you return the favour.”
“What?” Hutch looked into the eyes of his partner. They were sad and lost.
“Help me…”
A crash of thunder woke Hutch out of his dream. He sat up in bed, shaking and sweating. And with a full erection.
Damn it, he thought he was past these dreams. It had been over a month since the last one.
He wiped the sweat from his eyes and lay back on the bed.
The only image from the dream that stuck in his mind were the sad, lost eyes of his partner. Like they were begging him for something. And he asked for help? That was new. The only thing he remembered about the last dream he’d had about Starsky was lying next to him in bed, not having sex, just enjoying the closeness.
Hutch had never put much stock in analysing dreams. If they did mean anything, all Hutch could interpret was that he missed Starsky. The sadness in Starsky’s eyes was just a reflection of his own sadness. Maybe. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. The only thing Hutch was sure about right now was his erection was gone.
***
Hutch was there. Standing right there in the middle of The Room. He looked gorgeous. His blonde hair, sparkling, his smile, dazzling. He’d even gotten rid of the moustache. He was wearing his blue shirt with the guitar on the back and tight tan pants. He’d never looked better.
“Hutch.” His voice was so weak.
Hutch came closer and stood beside the gurney. He said some words, but no sound came out.
It took a lot of effort, but he was able to roll on his side and reach out a hand, wanting to touch his friend, feel that he was real. His hand touched nothing. Hutch’s form winked and slowly faded away.
“No, please,” He croaked. “Come back.”
The image returned in it’s original spot. But this time Hutch looked the way he’d looked the day Starsky left. The hurt and anger burned so bright in his eyes. He approached the bed again, but looked down at Starsky with contempt.
“You’re pathetic.” While he couldn’t hear the words he could read them on Hutch’s lips. “You left me. You deserve this.”
“I’m…sorry.” He managed to reach his hand out a little further, but it touched nothing again. Hutch’s form began to stretch and melt into a horrible caricature of himself. His sneering smile stretching until he looked like a Picasso painting of the Joker.
“You’re gonna die alone here.” Starsky heard those words, loud and clear in his head.
“No!” he screamed, covering his ears.
The grotesque image of Hutch stretched so large that it took up the whole room, before slowing, piece by piece, fading away.
The Room was dark again. Starsky searched all around for Hutch, but he was gone.
“Hallucinogenic test 1 complete.” The female scientist said from an unseen part of The Room. “Begin test 2 in one hour.”
Chapter 6 – Month Six
Hutch had read the file over many times and it still sickened him. He didn’t want to read it again, but this was the first big bust he’d been put in charge of and he needed to know every detail so nothing could go wrong.
A fake medical facility had been discovered in a warehouse on the edge of the city. The details of what went on inside were fairly sketchy. They’d been tipped off by someone who said to have worked there for a few weeks. He claimed the so called ‘scientists’ inside were experimenting on unwilling test subjects. He’d been sworn to secrecy and if he told anyone the government would make him disappear. Fortunately, the man had let this all slip one night while drunk at The Pits.
He wasn’t seen there again and no trace of the man could be found.
Hutch had sent a couple of undercover cops to spend a week staking out the building. They were hoping to link a number of kidnappings to this facility. Mostly homeless people, but also a variety of people from different backgrounds, mostly people who were considered loners with very little family. The undercover cops observed people coming and going at all hours of the day, all dressed in normal clothes. Nothing too suspicious, but one night they observed two big guys chasing a smaller guy wearing scrubs out of the side door. They tackled the poor man who started screaming when they dragged him back inside. That had been enough to convince them and Hutch this fake medical facility could be real.
They got the go ahead from the chief and Hutch put together his team.
While this kind of bust would certainly be a feather in his newly promoted cap, Hutch felt a deeper reason for wanting to take this place down. He didn’t know any of the kidnap victims or anyone linked to the place. And yet there was still something personal about this bust. He’d spent all morning trying to work out why he felt that way, but weather his feelings were true or not, this bust was going to go down by the book. There wasn’t a chance any of the people involved were going unpunished.
He took his gun out from his desk and checked it was loaded. He walked out of his office and into the squad room where his team were preparing.
“All right men,” he said, “Let’s take it down.”
***
He was so hot.
The fever had come on over night and got worse throughout the day. It was accompanied by a dry cough and a headache. Then Starsky found it hard to breath.
They stood over him, the female and another scientist. They felt his forehead, took his temperature and listened to his chest with a stethoscope.
“Sounds like pneumonia,” the male scientist said. “Shall I get the antibiotics?”
The female scientist stared down at Starsky. “No. I’m done with him.” She ran a hand over his sweaty brow. “He’s been an amazing specimen, but I think we’ve got all we can out of him.”
“You don’t want to put him out of his misery?”
“No, I want to run one last test.” She smiled. “See how long he lasts.” She made a note on her clipboard and after one last look they both left. Left him to die.
It was about time. That’s all he’d wanted for weeks now.
Like the female scientist, he too wondered how long he would last. Another day? Two maybe. He prayed it wouldn’t go any longer than that. If he had the means he’d end it right now. Why couldn’t they do that for him? Why couldn’t they offer him that one small bit of kindness?
He wondered if Hutch would ever find out what happened it him. Would anyone find his body? Would there even be a body to find, or would they just burn it. Cremated without a friend or family member around to say a nice word. And would anyone care. Would anyone think about him? Wonder what happened to him?
Starsky didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to focus on Hutch instead. Had he moved on with his life yet? Married with a kid on the way? Was he at least happy?
Did he forgive him or had he forgotten about him. Chucked his memories of their time together in a keepsake box he’d keep locked forever.
All Starsky had was his memories. He wanted to cling on to them until the end. Maybe they would give him some comfort as his body faded away.
***
The bust had gone well. There was some resistance. A gun fight had ensued when they busted down the front door, but no one was seriously hurt. A big, bald, muscular guy the size of a wrestler had taken a bullet in the shoulder, but that was the only injury.
They’d caught some of the scientists trying to burn their records, but they’d surrendered without a fuss. Apart from one female scientist who continued to burn records until a gun was pressed against her back. When she was led away in handcuffs she sneered at Hutch, who just glared back.
The facility wasn’t big. It was made up of two large rooms that looked like horror movie operating theatres, a side room where they kept all their medical supplies and another where they kept their files. Then there was one long corridor where all the cells were. Hutch set his men to work, checking each cell. They’d brought a long a good number of medics, knowing the people inside were probably not in good health.
Hutch took a quick peek inside the closest cell and was sickened by what he saw. The poor retch inside was wearing blood-stained scrubs and missing a leg.
Leaving the rest of the search to his officers, Hutch stood at the end of the corridor, supervising the clear out. They needed to make sure the most serious cases got treated first, so he’d asked everyone to make a quick assessment of their captive and report back to him so he could assign a medic.
“Lieutenant,” Officer Baker came running down the corridor, looking pale. “I think you need to see this.”
“What is it?” Hutch asked, keeping his eyes on his clipboard.
“One of the…captives sir, you REALLY need to see him.”
“I’m busy Baker, just tell me what condition he’s in.”
“It’s not good sir. You need to see for yourself.”
Hutch sighed. He couldn’t leave his post, but Baker’s desperate pleas told him he had no choice.
“Coleman, take over.” Hutch handed the clip board to the uniformed officer and followed Baker.
The officer led him to the cell right at the end of the corridor. Like all of them, it was small and sparse. Just a bed in one corner and a toilet in another. No window.
The person on the bed was lying on their side, eyes closed, shaking and struggling to breath. He was very thin, wearing only a loose pair of scrubs. Thankfully, he wasn’t missing any limbs or covered in blood.
Hutch came around the bed to get a better look at the poor man. He didn’t see it immediately, but once he did he froze and his heart pounded in his chest.
“Starsky?” Hutch whispered.
No, it couldn’t be. Hutch crouched down, his face level with the man’s “Starsk…” He spoke a little louder.
Unfocused, bloodshot blue eyes opened to stare blankly at Hutch.
There was no doubt, Hutch recognised those eyes. They blinked a couple of times before closing.
“Baker, go get a medic, now!”
The young officer didn’t hesitate.
Hutch took Starsky’s hot hand in his and used the other one to comb through sweat soaked curls. He didn’t know what to say, he still couldn’t believe Starsky was here. In this facility, looking half dead.
“Open your eyes buddy,” he said softly. “It’s Hutch.”
Slowly, the eyes opened again. They squinted a little, finding it hard to focus. Hutch moved his head a little closer.
“Hutch.” It was just a whisper, barely audible, but Hutch heard it. He smiled, tears in his eyes.
“Yes, it’s me.” He squeezed Starsky’s hand. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
The tired eyes stared at him, barely blinking. Starsky looked like he wanted to say something else, but he coughed instead, a deep hacking cough that brought up mucus.
“Take it easy,” Hutch whispered, squeezing his hand. “Don’t try to talk, just breath. Help is coming.”
The coughing stopped, but it had worn Starsky out. He closed his eyes and appeared to drift off. Before Hutch could try to wake him the medic arrived.
***
Hutch had wanted to go with Starsky to the hospital, but as the Lieutenant in charge, he had to stay until everything was wrapped up. It was late in the evening by the time Hutch was free and was relieved when he was told by the admitting nurse Starsky was still alive. She couldn’t give out any further information, but told him to wait in an office, where a doctor would talk to him shortly.
While Hutch waited he found his mind whizzing with questions. How did Starsky get captured? How did no one in New York know? Had he been at the facility the full 6 months? Who had written the letter Hutch received? Was that sent to him just to keep him from investigating. Trick him into thinking his partner had been living a happy life in New York. It had worked. And that angered him more than anything. Why hadn’t he trusted his gut? Or Huggy. He said he couldn’t believe it had been Starsky who wrote it. But Hutch hadn’t listened. He’d been too stuck in his own depressed world to listen.
Hutch really needed to speak to the doctor.
He was only left waiting another few minutes before the doctor entered. Hutch recognised the man as Doctor Wright, one of Starsky’s many doctors from the Gunther shooting.
“Detective Hutchinson, it’s been a while.”
“It’s lieutenant now.” He shook the man’s hand. “How’s Starsky?”
The doctor took a seat at his desk and sighed. “Lucky to be alive. And that’s the only luck he’s had.” He opened a file on his desk. “We’re still running tests to get a complete picture of his condition. Fortunately your team were able to recover most of the records those…monsters kept. I believe some were burnt during the bust. We know some of the things that were done to your friend and I have to say, it’s amazing he survived this long.”
“What kind of things?” Hutch didn’t WANT to know, but he really NEEDED to know.
“It would be easier if you read the records. The biggest issues he’s struggling with currently are malnutrition, dehydration and pneumonia. The blood tests show minute traces of some substance we can’t identify. He has a lot of burn marks, mainly on his arms and x-rays show evidence of a previously dislocated hip and a broken wrist that might need re-breaking.”
Hutch gripped the arms of the chair tightly. He wanted to kill those so-called scientists. Doctor Wright had used the right term; monsters. That’s what they were. Hutch had seen a lot of low lives in his time, but these monsters were far below them.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Doctor Wright said, seeing how the news was affecting Hutch.
“I just need to know…” Hutch relaxed minutely, “will he be all right?”
“The pneumonia is our primary concern. His lungs were already weakened by the shooting and some unidentified gas he was exposed to a few months back. We’re fighting it with strong antibiotics and I believe we’ve caught it early. These factors are in his favour, but I’m afraid I can’t give you any guarantees. He’s very weak.”
“Can I see him?” Hutch asked tentatively. He was desperate to be by Starsky’s side.
“Yes, he’s up in the ICU. I believe you know the way.”
Hutch nodded. He got up to leave.
“Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t recognise you immediately,” the doctor added as Hutch reached the door. “His eyesight is pretty bad.”
“Thank you Doctor.”
The entire way to the ICU Hutch tried his best to stay calm. The last thing he needed was to show any anger when he saw Starsky. But he was angry. At the people who did this and himself for not realising something was wrong. He could rationalise it by saying how could he know anything was wrong, but then he could have replied to the letter. Asked more questions. He could have swallowed his pride for two seconds and made a simple phone call. But he never had a contact number. Was that an just excuse? To make himself feel better? Did he want to feel better? He’d been living his life, getting a promotion while Starsky had been tortured for months.
Hutch reached the Nurses desk and signed in. He was asked to wait while a doctor Hutch had never heard of finished his tests. In the meantime the nurse explained a few things to Hutch, instructing him to not excite or upset the patient, keep his voice low and don’t let him pull his IV’s out. Apparently, he’d woken once already and tried to do that. They were reluctant to sedate or restrain him based on his mental and physical condition. Instead there was a nurse on watch constantly.
Once the nurse in charge gave the go ahead, Hutch walked up to the room, sadly noting that it was the same one Starsky had been in when he’d been shot.
He had to lean on the door frame support. Even though he’d seen Starsky back in the facility, he somehow looked more frail hooked up to the machines.
He was skinny, emaciated, with an IV in his scared right arm and another in the back of his left hand. They were lucky to find any good veins. His skin was pale, making the dark marks under his eyes stand out more. There was a soft brace on his right wrist. He was attached to a heart monitor and an oxygen mask was over his nose and mouth. There were other monitors and wires, but that was all Hutch understood.
He lowered himself into the bedside chair and made sure he was close enough in case Starsky woke up. He reached out and took Starsky’s hand, being careful of the brace. It was hot but it was alive. It was present.
He wondered if he should say something. What could he say? Sorry? That felt so hollow and meaningless after everything Starsky had been through. Maybe he just needed some reassurance. Some kind words.
“Hey buddy,” he said gently, rubbing the hot fingers “Everything’s going to be okay now. You’re safe.” He swallowed.
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known you were there…” He looked at Starsky. “How did you even end up in that place?”
He felt Starsky’s hand grip his slightly. And then he saw Starsky’s free hand reach over to the IV in the opposite arm.
“Hey.” Hutch took hold of the reaching hand and held it gently. “Leave it alone, Starsk. You need it.”
Starsky’s eyes were still closed, his head moving from side to side and a soft whimper coming from his lips. The nurse came over to check nothing had been dislodged.
“Mr Starsky, it’s okay,” she said softly. “No one’s going to hurt you.”
Her words weren’t getting through to him, his movements were getting more agitated. Hutch kept hold of Starsky’s hands, but leaned his head in close so he could speak directly into his ear.
“Starsky, it’s me, Hutch. I’m here buddy. You’re safe now.” The soft words, spoken by a familiar voice seemed to get through to the traumatised man. He stopped moving his head and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly a few times before fixing his gaze on Hutch.
“Hutch…” He croaked, squinting his eyes to bring the face above into focus. “No. Can’t” The weak words were muffled by the oxygen mask but Hutch understood. Starsky didn’t believe it was him.
Choking back tears, Hutch leaned his forehead against his partners. “It’s me, buddy,” he whispered. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
Pulling back he looked into the feverish, sunken eyes of the man he loved and saw tears. Was he finally seeing him?
“Hutch.” Starsky reached his hand up to touch Hutch’s cheek. Then he pinched it. It took Hutch by surprise making him flinch a little in pain, but it had an instant effect on Starsky.
“You’re real?” he croaked.
“Very real,” Hutch whispered.
Tears began to flow down Starsky’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. Don’t leave me, I’m sorry.”
Hutch couldn’t bear to hear his friend apologise. He’d waited months to hear Starsky say these words, but now they felt wrong.
“I won’t leave,” Hutch said softly. “I’m sorry too. I should have known something was wrong, I should have…” Tears came to his eyes too.
He wasn’t sure if Starsky was listening, he just kept on repeating, “I’m sorry.”
Knowing words were not enough, Hutch wrapped his arms gently around Starsky and pulled him up a little into a hug. Tears now flowing unchecked from both men, they remained that way until the outpouring of emotions exhausted Starsky and he fell asleep in Hutch’s arms. The blonde clung on a little longer, needing the physical contact and support just as much as Starsky, before laying his friend down and planting a soft kiss on his forehead.
Chapter 7 – Epilogue
Over the next couple of days Starsky still tried to remove his IV’s every time he awoke. However, it didn’t take much to calm him and once he understood where he was he left them alone. There was still talk of using restraints, but with all the tests done, they agreed to use only a light sedative.
With help from the records the scientists at the facility kept, the Doctor’s had learned everything that was done to Starsky and what they could do to help him recover physically. The dislocated hip was going to take the longest to heal. While it had happened months ago, it hadn’t received any useful treatment to help it recover. Doctor Wright was confident they wouldn’t need to perform surgery, but it would take a couple of months of physical therapy to get him walking properly again.
The pneumonia caused some issues including one very bad night that nearly led to Starsky being intubated. Thankfully they were able to keep him off the machine by draining some fluid from his lung and switching antibiotics. His temperature was down by the morning.
Hutch took a week off to be with his friend, and spent much of that time catching Starsky up on some of the things he’d missed. He tried to keep it light, mainly sports games, Dobey’s latest diet and Huggy’s decision to put a TV above the bar. He didn’t mention his promotion. That could wait.
Starsky wasn’t up to talking much, but he listened intently to everything Hutch said.
It was at the end of Hutch’s week off that he felt Starsky was up to answering some questions. He’d been freed from one of his IVs the previous day, but because of his weak lungs still required additional oxygen delivered through a nasal cannula. However, he had been moved to a private room and was sitting up and talking a little more. He was also capable of eating light meals, mainly soup and oatmeal.
“Starsk, I, uh, I need to ask you something,” Hutch said, scooting the chair closer to the bed. “Are you up to answering a question?”
“Depends,” Starsky whispered, his head turned towards the window. He’d spent a lot of time since moving to the private room looking out the window.
“It’s not about the…facility,” Hutch assured. “But I do want to know how…”
“Can we go outside?” Starsky asked, suddenly turning to Hutch.
“What?” Hutch frowned, suddenly caught off guard.
“I haven’t been outside for…a long time and it looks like a nice day out.”
Hutch found himself looking out the window even though he knew exactly what the weather was like. He’d been out in it. Taking the sunshine and gentle breeze for granted.
“I don’t know, I’d need to check with the Doctor,” Hutch said. “I mean, you’re still not over the pneumonia.”
“Can you ask? Please?” Starsky begged. “I don’t care if it’s only for a few minutes. And I’ll answer any questions you have, I promise.”
Despite Hutch’s misgivings he couldn’t deny Starsky his request. He just hoped Doctor Wright couldn’t either.
Hutch left to go talk to the Doctor and was able to catch him as he was finishing lunch. While it didn’t take too much persuading for the doctor to agree to the little adventure, he did have a few conditions: Starsky was only allowed out for an hour, he was restricted to a wheelchair the entire time, he remained on oxygen and a nurse had to be present.
Hutch agreed to the conditions on Starsky’s behalf and followed the Doctor to find a wheelchair and a nurse.
Despite the warm weather the nurse insisted Starsky wear a blanket over his legs and Hutch’s jacket. Starsky didn’t argue, he was more than happy to obey any rule as long as he got outside. However, when they did finally get outside into the hospital garden, the bright, undiluted sunshine hurt his weak eyes. Hutch tried offering him a pair of sunglasses but he refused, preferring to wait for his eyes to adjust. Hutch quickly pushed the wheelchair over to the shade of a tree by a picnic bench. He remembered having a little party here once, when Starsky was last in the hospital. It seemed like another lifetime.
Hutch put the breaks on the wheelchair and took a seat on the bench.
“Feeling better?” Hutch asked.
Starsky nodded, his pale face turned towards the sun, his eyes closed.
Hutch looked up at the nurse. “Can we, uh, have a moment alone?”
“I’m not meant to leave him,” the nurse pointed out.
“I know, but could you, maybe sit somewhere else…please. Just a for a moment.”
The nurse sighed. “All right, I’ll go sit over there where I can see you both.” She did a quick check to make sure the oxygen tubes were in place and Starsky was warm enough before she left.
“So as I was saying inside,” Hutch cleared his throat. “I just wanted to know…how did you end up in that place. I don’t need a full statement yet, don’t worry, but the last time we spoke you were visiting New York?”
Starsky was silent for a moment, before slowly opening his eyes. “I decided to drive to New York. I didn’t want to leave the Torino. As I was leaving LA this car ran me off the road.” He licked his lips and swallowed.. “I was knocked out, but when I came to, I was being dragged out of the car. There were, uh, three guys I think. They tied me up and threw me in the back of a van.”
“Do you know why they wanted you?” Hutch asked. “All the other captives were either homeless or loners.”
“She wanted me,” Starsky whispered. “I don’t know her name, but she appeared to be in charge. She read about the shooting and thought I’d make a good test subject.”
“That would have been Caroline Copeland,” Hutch said. “She was in charge of the place. She used to work for UCLA as a research professor. She was fired when they learned about a secret side project she was working on where she paid students to be her lab rats. While the students agreed to the tests they were subjected to some very horrible things. One of them nearly died.”
“So she started her own secret lab,” Starsky snorted. “And hired some low lives to work for her. One of the guys who jumped me was Walter Delaney.”
“The Researcher?” Hutch sighed. “Well that explains the letter.”
“The one that said I wasn’t coming back?” Starsky asked.
Hutch looked away. “Yeah, the one I believed. Walter sure did his research.”
Starsky was silent. He was looking down at his lap and picking lint off the blanket.
“I wonder if they sent a similar letter to New York,” Hutch speculated. “Say you’d changed your mind.”
“I didn’t tell anyone in New York,” Starsky said softly. “I was going to surprise Nicky. We’d not spoken in a while, not since he got this job that takes him all over the country. I’d rented a small apartment, but I guess they just rented it out to someone else when I didn’t show up.” He sighed. “There was no one in New York who knew and no one in LA who cared…”
“Starsk, if I’d known I would have got you out of there in a second. But you left so abruptly, I couldn’t have known…and…”
“You can say it,” he said, refusing to look up. “You hated me. And I deserve that.”
“I never hated you,” Hutch insisted. “I was angry and hurt, but I never, ever hated you.”
“I would have hated me. I should never have left.” He closed his eyes. “Maybe I deserved to be in that place.”
“No, don’t ever think that,” Hutch said sternly. “You may have gone about it the wrong way, but I understand why you left and you certainly didn’t deserve any of what they put you through. I’ve read your medical file and the things those bastards did…” Hutch didn’t want to think about it. He’d already hit a wall after reading the records. “And maybe you wouldn’t have left if I’d been honest with you.”
Starsky finally looked up. “What do you mean?”
Hutch perched himself on the edge of the bench, taking Starsky’s hand in his.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to confess to you for a while. Even before the shooting. Maybe if I’d told you that night at The Pits, you might have stayed. Or hit me. I was too scared to find out which.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I wanted to tell you…” He took a breath. It was now or never. “I’m in love with you, Starsk.”
He expected to be shunned. For Starsky to take his hand away in disgust. Instead Starsky squeezed his hand.
“I think on some level I knew,” Starsky said softly. “I think that was one of the unspoken reasons I left. I needed time to consider my own feelings.” He let out a deep sigh. “And I certainly had a lot of time to think.”
“Did you come to any conclusions?” Hutch asked,
“When things were…really bad. When it was too much to bear, I’d think of you. I’d think of you holding me, lying beside me…kissing me. It was the only thing that gave me any joy.”
They locked eyes. Hutch took a chance. He leaned down and kissed Starsky softly on the lips. He pulled back a little before kissing him again. Starsky didn’t stop him, instead he opened his mouth a little to accept the tip of Hutch’s tongue. It all felt right. Their kiss deepened, becoming more desperate. Their need for this moment, for each other had been too long awaited, They’d each suffered without the other. They needed this act of passion to help erase the last 6 months of loneliness and hurt.
Starsky was forced to pull away so his weak lungs could take a breath.
Hutch pulled back, smiling. “Was that worth the wait?”
“Oh yeah.” Starsky averted his eyes downwards to their clasped hands. “But are you sure you still want me? I’m not even 40 and I have all the ailments of an old man.”
“Well, lately I’ve been turning into a grumpy old man. Perfect pair,” Hutch said and was rewarded with a smile from Starsky. It wasn’t much, but it lit up his pale face.
Hutch leaned in to touch his forehead against Starsky’s.
“You’ll get better,” Hutch whispered. “It’ll take time, but I’ll be there. Not as a nurse maid, but as your partner.”
“As my lover,” Starsky kissed Hutch again.
This was one experiment Starsky was happy to participate in.
The end
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