You’re My Best Friend, You’re My Sunshine

Starsky sat in the chair beside Hutch and held his hand. He was thinking about the things he said the first time Hutch was shot, more than five years ago. When he had referred to Meredith as his “partner.” When he had told Hutch, “my partner’s already been filled in.” He had said he would personally request Meredith again “the next time my partner gets shot.”

He winced hard at that last one. Christ, how he wished he could take them all back now. Especially that one. He had meant it as a joke.

“You knew that, right Hutch? It was a joke. You’re the only partner I’ll ever want. I didn’t mean it, it was just a stupid joke!” He was getting angry at himself now.

It was Hutch who had saved his sorry ass when he and Meredith had gotten themselves tied up at the hands of teenagers. Teenagers, for chrissakes! Hutch who had checked himself out of the hospital early, running around town wearing the same bloody clothes he was brought in with. And what did Starsky do? Did he thank him? Did he ask Hutch if he was okay, if he needed to sit down? No, because he was too infatuated with his new “partner” to bother.

That was the first time Hutch saved his life that year.

“You know I didn’t mean it. You’re the only partner I’ll ever need, Hutch,” he said, and squeezed Hutch’s hand.

They never really talked about it afterwards. He said his goodbyes to Meredith and that was that. They were back to the same old Starsky and Hutch, me and thee, and all that. At least most of the time. Until THAT time, anyway. The time when Hutch did something that Starsky never thought he would do. Hutch had listened to him confide that he was in love with Kira, and then he rushed out the door to go over and sleep with her.

No, that wasn’t fair, because that’s not exactly what happened, is it? Starsky realized that he was starting to channel his anger towards his partner now. He needed to stop that. He needed to be positive. For Hutch.

Besides, they had been over it before, poured their hearts out to each other, made amends, decided that no woman would ever come between them again. Realized that their friendship was more important than sex (or even love) with any woman could ever be.

The second time Hutch saved Starsky’s life that year was when “Harry” drugged Starsky with plans to stab him to death, just like Monique’s other one-night stands. Starsky had been careless, taking his holster off to play the guitar. Hutch single-handedly solved the case, too. He really was the brains of their operation that night.

Starsky remembered how they had sat there, on top of the picnic table. Hutch had hoisted him up, knocking Starsky’s head against the lamp that was hanging above the table. Starsky could barely lift his arms but he leaned against his partner while Hutch held him close, a strong and comforting arm around Starsky’s shoulder.

“You were always there for me, Hutch. You’re my pal, Hutch,” he said, squeezing his hand.

The third time Hutch saved Starsky’s life that year was when Starsky was shot by Gunther’s goons and lay dying in a coma. After he came out of surgery, the doctors said there was nothing more they could do. When Starsky’s heart stopped, the doctors worked for what seemed an eternity to restart it, but it was only when he woke up from his coma that it was clear he was going to make it.

And it was all because of Hutch.

While recovering for weeks afterwards in the hospital, Starsky had lots of time to think about what Hutch had told him when he returned from San Francisco after arresting Gunther.

Hutch had told Starsky how he had sat by Starsky’s beside for hours after he was shot, sitting on the other side of the tubes and machines that were keeping Starsky alive, unable to bring himself to touch him, unable to make himself speak, not knowing why, but feeling powerless over his own actions. Feeling powerless about everything. Crying only in the bathroom, alone.

There was an empty bed in Starsky’s room. In his unconscious state, did Starsky think Hutch had been shot too and was lying in the other bed, like that time they were in the car accident?

Hutch always needed to be in control and when Starsky lay in that coma, dying, Hutch could do nothing to stop it. Sure, he could investigate who ordered the hit and make sure that justice was served before they killed him too. But he couldn’t control whether Starsky lived or died. At least, he assumed he couldn’t.

But he was wrong.

“You kept me alive, pal. You made me live.”

When Starsky’s heart stopped and the doctors were just about to give up, Hutch had come running through the double doors. And that’s when Starsky’s heart started beating again.

But why did his heart stop when it did? He thought about that during those long weeks of recovery. And he realized it happened after Hutch had left the hospital to check on a lead. And even before that, he had sat silent in Starsky’s room, his presence barely detectable. Had he unknowingly caused Starsky to think that he was dead, killed by the same goons who had shot Starsky?

Starsky was in a coma, sure, but somehow he had been able to sense that Hutch was no longer there. And if he thought Hutch was dead, then he didn’t want to live anymore.

Hadn’t he said as much when Hutch was missing during the botulism scare? Told Dobey that if Hutch died, he wouldn’t give a damn about anything. And so when Starsky lay dying in the hospital and couldn’t hear Hutch, or feel his touch, or sense his presence, or even smell his partner’s familiar warm-scented mixture of sweat and musky cologne, Starsky simply gave up and died. Until the doctors came and revived him. But that only happened because Hutch burst through those doors and came running towards him, and so Starsky willed himself to live. It was as simple as that.

But still, it wasn’t until Hutch spoke to him, said his name, that Starsky awoke from his coma.

Like sleeping beauty, only without the kiss.

He lived because of Hutch. Their bond was that strong.

Now he sat in Hutch’s hospital room thinking about it, after Hutch was shot for the second time, all the while squeezing his hand. “I’m here partner. Can you hear me? Can you feel my hand? Can you give me a sign?”

He thought about when Hutch lay dying from the plague, and the doctors wouldn’t let Starsky visit with him. Starsky persisted though, insisting he be allowed in Hutch’s room. He donned a face mask and gloves and sat on the edge of Hutch’s bed, grasping both of Hutch’s hands in his own gloved hands, eyebrows knitted, trying not to cry.

He was grateful he could stay with Hutch now, that he could touch him.

He’s the only fucking reason I’m alive, thought Starsky. I’d be good and dead if it wasn’t for his love and devotion for me and mine for him. Now he just needed to stay here in this room so his partner would know he wasn’t alone. So his partner wouldn’t give up like he had.

Just then, Dobey came in the room and interrupted Starsky’s reverie. He put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder and asked “How are you doing, son?” He obviously wanted to feel close to Starsky but knew better than to call him Dave. Besides, it was a rhetorical question. Dobey knew the answer.

“How do you think I’m doin’, Cap’n?” was all Starsky could say in response. He knew it was a rhetorical question but replied anyway. He needed Hutch to hear his voice. He needed Hutch to know he was there.

And all the while, he never stopped holding Hutch’s hand, never stopped touching him, never stopped talking to him, except on those occasions when he had to leave the room to use the john.

He had lasted over 24 hours before finally dozing off. When he woke and realized he had been sleeping in the chair, he panicked, worried that Hutch was gone, having been unable to sense Starsky’s presence.

But as Starsky groggily became aware of his surroundings, he realized that: 1) Hutch was still breathing and 2) He was still holding Hutch’s hand.

He remembered when he brought Hutch to Huggy’s after he found him in that alley all those years ago, and sat with him on the bed, and held him down and stroked his neck. Hutch had begged him for help, for a fix. He had grabbed onto Starsky’s arm and batted away the cup of coffee, spilling it everywhere. How Starsky had wanted to cry from seeing his partner in so much pain and anguish. Starsky had looked up at the ceiling, trying to blink away the tears.

He remembered that night, sleeping in the chair beside the bed, using a towel for a blanket, one blue Adidas on and one off. He had blocked Hutch’s way to the door with the chairs from the card table, concerned that Hutch would try to leave while Starsky slept. When he woke up, Hutch was sitting up in bed, the awful insomnia preventing him from sleeping.

Now Hutch was lying in a coma, not responding to anything, not pleading with Starsky to help him, not gripping Starsky’s arm, or yelling at him, not insulting him or trying to push him away from the door. Not even having a temper tantrum. He looked almost peaceful, pumped so full of meds that he couldn’t possibly be feeling any pain.

But Starsky couldn’t decide which was worse.

“I’m here, buddy, I’m right here.”

After trying unsuccessfully to kick him out of the ICU, the nurses finally took pity on Starsky and brought him a comfortable easy chair along with a blanket and pillow. It was a step up from the towel he used at Huggy’s, but he was afraid to sleep. He would nod off from time to time but then he’d suddenly jerk awake, checking to see if Hutch was still alive, checking to see if he was still holding his hand.

Hours passed. Nurses and doctors came and went, some whom Starsky had seen before, some not. He barely registered their presence. He only moved out of the way when they asked him to, and for as brief a time as possible. And he only let go of Hutch’s hand when he had to.

After three days of keeping a vigil, everyone was pleading with him to go home and take a shower.

But Starsky refused. He didn’t dare leave Hutch’s hospital room for more than a few minutes. He wouldn’t dare leave the hospital, because he was terrified of Hutch finding himself alone and giving up. And besides, he didn’t mind if his smell was rank because Hutch was familiar with that smell. He needed Hutch to smell him, to feel him, to hear him. To know he was there. Hutch had smelled Starsky’s scent many times. Starsky imagined it was how he must have been after being held hostage by Marcus’s goons.

He remembered how Hutch had reeked when he found him in that alley, after being held, beaten and bloodied by Forest’s men for four days. The awful withdrawal, the sweat, the vomit, the pain.

Hutch looked angelic now compared to that day so long ago. He looked like a vulnerable little boy in peaceful slumber.

Earlier, Starsky had asked Huggy to bring him his Sony Walkman and a cassette. Huggy had gone to Starsky’s house and retrieved them. It took him a while to find the cassette which was hidden behind a stack of records, because Starsky hadn’t listened to it in a couple of years.

Huggy had left and now Starsky was alone again with Hutch. “You’re my best friend, Hutch. You’re the best friend I got in the whole world. Can you hear me?” His tone was one of despair.

He pressed Play and sang along with the lyrics to keep himself awake.

Ooh, you make me live.

It was so fucking ironic, thought Starsky, because Hutch had bought the Walkman and the “Queen Greatest Hits” cassette for Starsky when he was home recovering from his gunshot wounds after the Gunther ordeal. Walkmans had just come out that year and Hutch thought Starsky would enjoy listening to it while doing his physical therapy exercises.

Now their world had come full circle but in a topsy-turvy way, and he almost felt dizzy thinking about it.

Ooh, you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me
It’s you you’re all I see

They were at Starsky’s place, one day in 1980, and he was sitting on the floor, propped up against the sofa, panting and sweating. He had been playing the tape while he did his exercises, but never pressed Stop when he finished. Hutch had walked over to him to see if he was okay.

“Hey, bring me an orange juice, partner?” Starsky asked, exhausted.

“Sure thing, buddy.”

Hutch kneeled beside Starsky and handed him the juice.

Oh, you’re the best friend that I ever had
I’ve been with you such a long time
You’re my sunshine and I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you

Starsky drank the juice and put the empty glass on the floor beside him. Hutch studied him, trying to gauge how he was feeling. “You sure you’re okay, Starsk?”

Hutch had taken care of Starsky all through his recovery, cooking for him, driving him to the doctor, making sure he did his exercises every day.

“For the millionth time, Hutch, I’m sure. Help me up, will ya?”

Hutch took hold of Starsky’s arm with one hand and put his other hand around Starsky’s waist, trying to pull him up, when Starsky started laughing.

“Hey, stop that, I’m ticklish!” he giggled as he wriggled out of Hutch’s grasp. That set Hutch to laughing as well and they fell to pieces chortling and giggling like little boys as Hutch deliberately tickled Starsky some more.

Starsky sat beside Hutch’s bed and put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder, remembering that day four years ago.

“Hey Hutch, remember when you found out how ticklish I am? Remember how we laughed?” He squeezed Hutch’s hand, hoping Hutch would squeeze it back. But there was no response. There had been no response from Hutch in three days.

All that laughing made Starsky’s side hurt and he winced in pain.

“Starsk, you okay?” Hutch asked for the gazillionth time since Starsky had been discharged from the hospital months earlier.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just a cramp,” Starsky assured him.

Hutch studied Starsky’s face, his body language, trying to decide if Starsky was telling the truth. “Do you need anything?”

“I still need you to help me up,” Starsky reminded him, beginning to laugh again. Hutch pulled him up by his hands this time. When they stood up, Starsky put his hand on Hutch’s shoulder and looked at him. “Thanks, partner,” he said. “Thanks for always being there for me.”

“You were always there for me, Hutch. And I’ll always be here for you. I’m right here, partner. Can you feel me sitting beside you? Do you know I’m here with you?”

As he spoke to Hutch, tears started to well up in Starsky’s eyes. But he needed to keep talking. He needed Hutch to know he was still here.

He pressed Play.

Ooh, I’ve been wandering ’round
But I still come back to you
In rain or shine
You’ve stood by me
You’re my best friend
Ooh, you make me live

For three days, Starsky never stopped talking to Hutch, never stopped singing to him, holding his hand, squeezing his arm, touching his matted blond hair.

He kept thinking about sitting on the bed at Huggy’s all those years ago, holding Hutch in his arms, trying to get him to drink some coffee, trying to keep Hutch from vomiting all over himself, rubbing his neck. Hutch grabbing onto his arm and pleading with Starsky to do something, anything, to stop the pain and anguish he was going through.

He pressed Pause.

“Ya big lummox, I got you through your heroin withdrawal, I’m gonna get you through whatever you’re goin’ through now,” he said to his partner. “I’m gonna do whatever it takes.”

He talked to Hutch about Terry, about how he had wanted to give up after she died, and how Hutch had pulled him back from the abyss. He asked Hutch if he remembered when Starsky told him about it when Hutch was faking amnesia.

‘“I need you, partner.”

He wished to God that Hutch was faking his condition now.

He talked about that time on the school playground, when he had gotten defensive with Terry explaining why he was spending so much time with Hutch at those late night liquor store stakeouts. He told Hutch all about his conversation with Terry that day, and how he had loved watching him play basketball with the kids. How he was such a natural with them.

“Did I ever tell you that, Hutch? About how much I love how you are with kids? I probably never told you. Hey, wouldn’t it be somethin’ if you and I had kids someday? Maybe we could get married in a double weddin’ and we can be each other’s best man. And I’ll be Uncle Dave to your kids and you’ll be Uncle Ken to mine. We might not know much about takin’ care of babies and toddlers, but we have experience helping to raise teenagers. By the way, they came by earlier today, Molly and Kiko. Did you know that? They’ve been here every day. Did you hear their voices? What do you say Hutch, how ‘bout it? My kids are gonna need their Uncle Ken.”

Starsky had felt so much love for his partner that day on the playground, his big blond blintz. And when Terry was shot, Starsky could feel Hutch’s strong hand on his shoulder, offering him silent support.

“You probably didn’t think I noticed your hand on my shoulder when Terry was shot because I was too worried about her, but I did notice. It’s what gave me the strength to get through the night alone in the hospital waiting room.”

He let go of Hutch’s hand, touched his shoulder, and squeezed. “It was just like this,” he said. More tears welled up in Starsky’s eyes, making it hard for him to see.

“And when you finally came to the hospital the next morning, after working all night on the case, I was so happy to see you. So relieved! Did you know that, Hutch? Did you know that when you walked over to me, looked into my eyes, and put your hand on my arm, you gave me hope that everything was gonna be okay? You gave me strength. You got me through that dark time in my life. Please, I need you now, too.”

He squeezed Hutch’s arm and unpaused the Walkman, playing the song again, singing along with it softly, purposely singing off-key:

Ooh, you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me
It’s you you’re all I see

But Hutch didn’t offer a sarcastic remark about Starsky’s singing ability. “Come on Hutch, aren’t you gonna say something about my singing, huh?” He hung his head, despondent. “That’s okay babe, you just need more time. It’s okay.”

He held Hutch’s hand again and resumed playing the song:

Oh, you’re the best friend that I ever had
I’ve been with you such a long time
You’re my sunshine and I want you to know
I really love you

The line about sunshine sparked a memory. He pressed Pause and reminded Hutch of the time they were trapped in the Italian restaurant with the two mob hitmen.

“You had the weight of the world on your shoulders that night. You had to try to keep me alive while figuring out a solution to the jam we were in. You know you were my white knight, my hero? You’ll always be my hero, Hutch.

You know I didn’t mean what I said that night, right? When I carped on you, grumbling how ‘You’re a regular shaft of sunlight,’ you know that I didn’t mean it?

Because in all seriousness, blondie, you really are my sunshine.”

Keeping the Walkman paused, Starsky sang softly to Hutch, in tune this time, “You’re my sunshine, and I want you to know, my feelings are true, I really love you.”

Just then, Huggy walked into the room. “How’s he doin’?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“Hey, Hug, could you do me a favor and get me some coffee and maybe a doughnut or somethin’? I need the caffeine and sugar to keep me awake.”

“Sure, Starsky, but what you really need is a shower and some mouthwash. Hope you’re not offended if I don’t want to stand too close. You sure you don’t want to go home for an hour? I’ll stay here with Mr. Sunshine.”

“You know I can’t leave him, Hug,” Starsky said solemnly. “But I’ll understand if you don’t want to stick around and join me for dinner.”

“I’m surprised you’re even hungry, Starsky. Dobey hasn’t eaten anything in three days except coffee, same as when you were shot.”

“I’m not, but I gotta keep up my energy. Don’t wanna fall asleep,” said Starsky despondently, yawning and willing himself to stay awake.

Huggy was more than happy to leave the room and head for more pleasant-smelling pastures. He went down to the hospital cafeteria to get the coffee and doughnut, but before he had even left the room, Starsky was already thinking about Hutch again.

————–

Starsky consumed the food Huggy had brought him, not tasting it, and in between bites he told Hutch “I’ll wait here for you, buddy, for as long as it takes, until you’re ready to come back. And once you’re better and I can take you home and tuck you in, I’m gonna cook for you, just like you cooked for me. I’m gonna scramble up some eggs and learn how to make health food shakes and veal piccata and blueberry pie. Whatever it takes, partner. And then you and I are gonna live to the ripe old age of 147. Come on, whadda ya say?”

He pressed Play and continued the song:

Ooh, I’ve been wandering ’round
But I still come back to you
In rain or shine
You’ve stood by me
You’re my best friend
Ooh, you make me live

He pressed Pause.

“I’m sorry I ghosted you that time I was seeing Rosey. You asked me to lunch and I said no. You know that was just because I was hurtin’. Can you believe I even remember that? I been thinkin’ a lot about the past since you’ve been in here. I’m sorry I ghosted you after I shot Emily. But I felt so guilty after that I wanted to wallow in my own pain. I didn’t want to feel better. You know me better than anyone, Hutch, and I know you understood what I was goin’ through. For three days you tried to call me, but I didn’t answer the phone. I knew it was you, I never doubted it. But I guess I wanted to be unhappy, I wanted to suffer. You tried to give me a pep talk and I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted you to leave so I could suffer some more. I’m sorry Hutch. You just wanted to be there for me. You just wanted to be my friend. I wish I had let you in.”

He pressed Play again:

Whenever this world is cruel to me
I got you to help me forgive
Ooh, you make me live now honey
Ooh, you make me live

He pressed Pause.

Starsky thought about Lonny Craig and George Prudholm. “Did I ever thank you for coming to the zoo that day, Hutch? I know you know I was grateful, I know it wasn’t necessary, but still, did I ever say it? If it wasn’t for you, I might have killed Prudholm. I don’t just mean if you hadn’t followed me to the zoo. What I mean is, if you weren’t in my life at all, would I have had the strength to put my gun down and cuff him like I did? I’ve never wanted to admit it until now, but I don’t think I would be the same man I am today, if it wasn’t for you bein’ in my life. So thank you for always bein’ there for me, Hutch. And just so you know, I’m going to be here for you, always, no matter what happens. I’m not gonna let anything break us apart. It’s me and thee, partner.”

Play.

You’re the first one
When things turn out bad
You know I’ll never be lonely
You’re my only one
And I love the things
I really love the things that you do

Pause.

“Hey, you know how I always act ignorant so we can play that game where you pretend to have superior knowledge? I love playing that game, blondie. People look at us and wonder how we can be friends, because we’re so different. But we know better. They don’t know it’s just a game we play. And I really do love all the things you do, blue eyes. Like how you talk to your plants. And go on your little rants. Hey, that rhymes!”

The tears started welling up again. “Hey Hutch, I just said something corny. You’re supposed to roll your eyes now. Come on, Hutch. Roll your eyes. Show me those beautiful blue eyes of yours, dammit!” he pleaded, voice rising with anger. Then he immediately felt bad about getting angry and started running his hand along Hutch’s arm, saying “I’m sorry blintz, it’s okay. You’re not ready yet, it’s okay Hutch, take your time, take as much time as you need. I’ll be here.”

Sobbing freely now, he fumbled for the Play button and played the last part of the song:

Oh, you’re my best friend
Ooh, you make me live
You’re my best friend
Oh, you’re my best friend
Ooh, you make me live
You’re my best friend

The tears were streaming down Starsky’s face, making it hard for him to see them dripping onto the thin blanket covering his ailing partner.

The doctors had told him three days ago that Hutch was going to die. Can you believe that? Starsky didn’t. No sirree. When the tables were turned, Starsky had lived because of Hutch. And he’d be damned if the same thing wasn’t going to happen this time.

Hutch would come back to him. He knew it. Could feel it in his gut. They would see. Hutch would prove them wrong, just like Starsky had proved them wrong four years ago.

Starsky just needed to keep talking to him, just needed to keep touching him, even if that meant he had to stay awake and in this room forever. Even if that meant pissing in a bedpan so he wouldn’t have to leave to go down the hallway to the men’s room.

He suddenly remembered opening his eyes for the first time after the Gunther shooting and seeing his blond beauty standing there, heard his soothing voice. And then Hutch turned around and Starsky saw his face, those blue eyes, that winning smile. The reason he was alive now.

Starsky leaned over to get closer, running his fingers through Hutch’s matted blond hair. Sobbing loudly now, he didn’t see his tears dripping onto Hutch’s cheek. Through the blurry haze, he also didn’t see Hutch’s beautiful blue eyes open for the first time since he had been shot. But he unmistakably felt something squeezing his hand.

-The End-

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