Worn Out by Sadness

Starsky is feeling worn out by grief. Hutch is keeping an eye as best he can.

Written for the SHFAFF prompt: tired.

Starsky was tired.

Tired of feeling sad. Fed up with feeling angry. Worn down with feeling like he was walking around with a gaping hole in his chest that no-one else seemed to be able to see.

Somehow he managed to get through each day by focussing on the job, using his need to be there to protect his partner as his reason to get out of bed in the morning. He managed to stick a smile on his face and even joke around with other detectives on some days – although it was hard work. Sometimes he wondered if his smile looked as brittle as it felt to him, looking from the inside out.

He was grateful that Hutch said nothing, yet knew everything: grateful for the coffee that appeared in his hand when he’d zoned out over a report or for the grounding hand on his shoulder when he disappeared into memories for a moment or two.

As he wrote his report on their latest case, he glanced at the clock and realised it was nearly the end of their shift. Usually that would put a bounce in his step but today he just sagged in his chair and wondered what he was going to do by himself for the whole weekend. And then it would be Monday again and the whole empty charade would start again. He felt tears burn in his eyes and quickly wiped them away.

He looked over to Hutch’s desk and was surprised to see an empty chair. Oh right. Hutch had a dentist appointment and was coming back for him shortly. He’d better get his report done. He typed the last few sentences, pulled it from the typewriter and signed it. Then he placed it on top of the pile of reports awaiting Dobey’s careful eye.

The squad room door opened and Hutch walked in. He came up to Starsky’s side and asked quietly, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Starsky stood up and put on his jacket and then followed Hutch out of the room.

As they drove, Starsky stared out of the window, not seeing what was going past but watching a reel of internal recollections. It took a few minutes before he realised that they were headed out of the city. He sat up a little and looked enquiringly at Hutch.

“Figured you need rest but you might also appreciate a change of scene,” Hutch said by way of explanation.

“Where are we headed?”

“The West Beach Hotel, Santa Barbara. It’s got its own swimming pool and there’s a room with pool tables and ping pong. The beach is close by. Or you can just hide in your room, order room service and sleep if you can’t face people. I can amuse myself if you need some space.”

Starsky looked out of the window and swallowed down emotions that were threatening to come out. After a few minutes, he placed his hand on Hutch’s shoulder and simply said, “Thanks.”

Hutch just nodded, pleased that his gift had been accepted and that he’d made the right call.

“You didn’t have the dentist.”

“No, I went to pack overnight bags for both us.”

Starsky nodded and gave his partner a tired but grateful smile. He felt the weight of unhappiness lessen just a little. He knew that he would navigate his way through this loss just that little bit better because he had Hutch doing his best to support him and that caring, loyal support meant everything.