*******
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light
*******
Dobey sat at his desk, eyes closed, one hand lying on top of the phone.
He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or to cry.
The call from the Angel of Hope Hospital had come out of left field.
For the last three weeks, they had canvassed every
hospital in the greater Los Angeles area. Or at least all of
them except for the mental institutions. No one had even
thought of that and yet this one called to tell him they had his detective.
That another officer who knew Starsky had
identified him. A miracle, pure and simple.
The Captain collected himself. Now he had the great pleasure of
telling Hutch that his partner was alive and in relatively
good shape. Something he'd been waiting more than three weeks
to tell him. He decided the best way to do it was to call
him into the office. Just in case. Going to the door, he
looked out into the squadroom. Hutch was going through the
forensic team's report of Gibbons' apartment. Huggy, sitting
at Starsky's desk was on the phone. He smiled to himself.
Soon Starsky would be back at that desk, giving his partner the gears
about something or other and Hutch would be
smiling at him, trying to find a good comeback line. God, how
he missed that smile. How he missed both of theirs.
"Hutch, come into my office for a minute." Gruff, to the point.
Dobey was pleased with himself that his voice gave nothing
away. Hutch looked up from his report, sighed, and struggled
to his feet to answer the summons. Huggy hung up the
phone and followed. Dobey allowed that. Huggy had become
part of the team working to bring Starsky home. He
deserved to be in on this. Dobey shut the door behind them.
"Sit down you two." Dobey walked around his desk and sat down.
He looked at the two men in front of him, saddened at
the transformation the last weeks had brought to these two. Hutch
looked old, his usual fair complexion pale and drawn.
He looked as if he'd dressed in whatever he dragged out of the closet
first or maybe out of the clothes hamper. Huggy,
too, looked drawn, his usual spark subdued. Even his clothes
were somber, a sure sign of unhappiness. Well, his news
would change that.
"Hutch, Huggy, I've got some news." The two looked in apprehension
at each other. "Just received a phone call from
Angel of Hope Hospital in Culver City. It seems they've got this
patient that we might be interested in." Hutch raised an
eyebrow. Dobey smiled at him. He hadn't smiled in so long
it almost hurt. "He was admitted Thursday night as Michael
Swartz. They had to sedate him and it wasn't until this morning
that they realized that he wasn't Michael Swartz after all.
That he is one David Starsky."
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Hutch stared blindly
for a moment at his captain, his hand reaching for Huggy's
arm. Huggy simply sat with his mouth hanging open. "Cap,
Captain, are they sure? It's Starsky?" The hope in Hutch's
voice was as bright as the early morning sunlight shining through the
window behind the captain. Dobey nodded, a big
grin splitting his face. "He's alive? He's okay?"
Dobey held up a cautionary hand. "He's alive and physically alright.
The doctor who called said that he's confused and
frightened but otherwise okay." He had to stop speaking as both
Hutch and Huggy jumped up and grabbed each other in
a bear hug. Hutch was laughing so hard tears were streaming down
his face. Huggy wasn't far behind. The door to the
squadroom opened a crack and Ted looked in. Seeing the celebration
that was occurring inside, he quickly closed the
door. A moment later a huge shout went up on the other side of
the door, bringing another smile to the captain's lips.
"If you two are through, shall we go and get our wandering son?" Dobey asked, pretending gruffness.
Hutch pulled away from Huggy long enough to turn a huge smile on his captain. "God, yes, Captain. God, yes."
*******
Dr. Bernardi rose to meet the two men as they were ushered into his
office by his secretary. They shook hands with him,
and after a polite refusal of coffee, sat in the two chairs in front
of the desk. The blond man put a small gym bag down on
the floor beside his chair. The doctor ran a professional eye
over the pair. He took in the dark circles around the eyes,
the tight expressions, and the fatigue evident in the way they held
themselves. The captain appeared worn out, but also
relieved. The younger man looked as if he'd been to hell and
back.
They both listened intently as Dr. Bernardi explained the patient's present condition.
"Captain Dobey, Sergeant Hutchinson, I know how you must be feeling
knowing that your man is alive, but it's all not good
news, I'm afraid." His two guests exchanged worried glances.
"I'm going to get straight to the point. Outside of his first
name, he remembers nothing. Not his full name, not where he is,
how he got here nor anything about his past. It's a total
blank. As it's only been a few hours since he's regained consciousness,
and he's still somewhat under the influence of
the sedatives we gave him, this may pass. But I can't promise
that. From what you told me about the circumstances of
his disappearance, Captain, he's been through an extremely traumatic
experience. After speaking with you, I ordered a
complete physical and found some disturbing things." Just then,
the phone rang. Picking up the receiver, Bernardi
spoke, then listen for a moment. Saying to whomever was on the
other end, "I'll be right there." he hung up and looked at
the police officers.
"I'm afraid there's an emergency I have to attend to." He handed
Dobey a file folder. "Here's the report of the physical's
findings. I think you'll be able to work past the medical jargon
and understand what it contains. I'll be back shortly to take
you to see David." With that, Bernardi left.
Dobey opened the file. Inside he found a form with Starsky's name,
date, and time of admittance and other such hospital
legalities. He put that sheet aside. The second form was
similar to the first but had the name 'Michael Swartz' in the
patient column. The next form was the results of the physical.
He looked it over quickly, then handed it to Hutch with a
look of pain on his face.
Hutch took the form with a feeling of dread. Here, in black and
white, was the record of the physical trauma his friend had
been subject to. He wasn't sure he wanted to read it, but he
knew he needed to in order to help Starsky. As he read,
each statement hit him like a knife in his heart.
The worse seemed to be an injury to the head. It had been deep
and, because it had received little initial attention, not
healed well. There was evidence of other, lesser, cuts and contusions,
mostly on his upper body. Ligature marks on his
wrists and ankles. The notation that made Hutch feel physically
ill, however, was the one concerning the multiple needle
marks and bruising on Starsky's upper left arm. The doctors had
weighed Starsky and he was at least ten pounds
underweight. The report went on to say that his reaction times
seemed sluggish, probably from inactivity and lack of
proper food for an extended period.
Hutch knew that the needle marks would be from the sedatives that Gibbons
used to keep him captive for all those
weeks. His heart clenched at the thought of his partner physically
restrained, bound in such a way that it left injuries.
The other bruises and cuts would be from either the original capture
or attempts by Starsky to fend off his attacker.
Hutch remembered grimly the mention in Gibbon's autopsy report of a
large, deep bruise on his upper thigh. He hoped
that when Starsky kicked him that it had hurt like hell.
He continued to read the rest of the report, mostly documenting Starsky's
condition upon admittance. How he had
appeared totally out of control, paranoid and incoherent. That
they had kept him sedated until Sunday morning when the
order had come through to take him off the medication so he would be
ready for evaluation on Monday. How they had
kept him restrained from that time until the nurse, whose husband had
recognized Starsky, called in Bernardi. <Thank
God for that> How, when questioned, he didn't remember anything
before his awakening in the hospital except his first
name.
Hutch was shaking with constrained anger by the time he finished reading.
Anger at Gibbons for doing this to his
partner. At a system that had let his friend down by not recognizing
the signs of drugs instead of mental illness. But
mostly at himself for not protecting his friend from all that had happened
to him. Rationally, he knew that there really was
no way he could have prevented what had happened, but it didn't stop
the feeling of guilt. It was only because he and
Starsky were partners and very evidently cared for each other that
Gibbons switched the focus of his revenge from Hutch
to Starsky.
Before Hutch could dig himself further into the well of guilt he was
constructing, the doctor came back into the room.
Standing in the doorway he couldn't help but see that the report had
shocked and dismayed both officers but especially
the Sergeant. Bernardi didn't know the extent of the two partners'
relationship but it was clear to him that it was a close
one. Knowing that waiting was only making the anxiety worse he
decided that it was time to reunite them.
"Gentlemen, would you like to see David now?" Taking the way the
pair jumped up from their chairs as an affirmative, the
doctor led them to the elevator. Bernardi took advantage of the
short ride up to the ward to give them some instructions.
"We haven't moved him from the room he was originally assigned.
He seems to have developed a trust in the ward
nurse. She offered to stay with him until you people could come
for him. Under the circumstances, it seemed for the
best." As they exited the elevator and started towards Starsky's
room, the doctor had one more word of warning for
Dobey and Hutch. "Don't be surprised if David's afraid of you
at first. He's extremely nervous around people, especially
men, right now. Once he realizes that you mean him no harm he'll
calm down. And try not to appear alarmed at his
physical condition. He's been very roughly handled, I'm afraid."
Hutch's heart ached at the thought of his brave friend being afraid
of anyone, especially him. He'd seen Starsky face
down armed felons without batting an eye. At that moment, he
would have given just about anything if he had been the
one who had pulled the trigger on Gibbons. Anything except his
partner.
They arrived at the door to room 305. Dr. Bernardi turned to the
two men. "I can allow only one of you at a time to go in.
He's too skittish right now. I'll go in with you just in case."
There was no reason for discussion on who would go first. Hutch accompanied Bernardi into the room.
The room was small, just a bed, a small table, and two chairs.
Hutch took none of the details in. All he could see was the
figure of his friend sitting in one of the chairs. Starsky sat
with his right side to the door. He was leaning slightly forward
towards the nurse sitting across from him in the other chair.
His hair, cut in jagged patches, looked as if someone had
taken a knife and hacked at it. Hutch could see a long, half
healed gash on the side of his head, just above the ear. He
thought he was prepared to see his friend's condition, but nothing
could have prepared him for the look on Starsky's
face.
When the nurse noticed Hutch and the doctor walk in she touched Starsky's
hand and quietly said something to him.
Starsky turned to look and seemed to shrink into himself at the sight
of Hutch. He half rose in a defensive move but didn't
back away because the nurse had her hand on his arm. The doctor
was quick to intervene before things could escalate.
"David, it's all right. This is a friend of yours. He's
come to take you home." Dr. Bernardi motioned Hutch further into
the
room. The nurse, after convincing Starsky to sit back down, stepped
back and stood with her hand on his shoulder.
Hutch moved slowly towards the other chair and sat down, never taking
his eyes off his friend. Starsky was staring at him,
looking like a bird staring into the eyes of a snake. Hutch smiled
as gently and non-threatening as he could, while inside
he was screaming in empathy at the pain in his partner's eyes.
"Hey, buddy." Was all Hutch could think of to say.
At the sound of Hutch's voice, Starsky frowned in the puzzled expression
that Hutch knew so well. The one that his friend
wore when he was trying to remember or figure out something.
"I know you. Don't I?" Starsky's voice was hesitant, low
and fearful sounding. The last time Hutch had heard that tone
was near the end of their ordeal the time Starsky was
poisoned. The tone that he'd use to tell his friend that he was
scared.
"Yeah, Starsk. We're partners, you and me."
"Partners?" Starsky looked from Hutch to the nurse, then back
obviously confused by the term. "What do you mean,
partners?"
"We're police detectives, Starsk. We've been partners for a long
time." Hutch was afraid to give him too much detail and
confuse him even more.
"Oh." He seemed momentarily satisfied by that. "Is that my name, Starsk?" Again, that puzzled look.
"Not exactly. Your full name is David Starsky, but I've called
you Starsk for a long time, sort of a nickname." Hutch felt
like he'd stepped over the line into the Twilight Zone or something
with this conversation.
"Oh. What's your name then?" Hutch could tell that Starsky
was trying to gather as much information as he could.
Trying to jar something loose, but nothing was really working.
"Ken Hutchinson, but you call me Hutch." For just a moment, Hutch
was sure this last had sparked something in Starsky's
faulty memory. But it was gone as fast as it had appeared.
Starsky sat and stared at him, searching his face. Hutch tried
not to stare back, but it was hard not to. For days, he'd been
dreaming of what he'd do when he finally found his
partner. Sitting in a room in a mental hospital with medical
personnel hovering had not been one of the scenarios he'd
pictured. Certainly not with a man who didn't know him from Adam.
Hutch's chest hurt.
Looking Starsky in the face, Hutch could see further evidence of his
friend's ordeal. He appeared gaunt, not so much
from hunger as from fear. He looked like a man who'd walked up
to the edge of death and barely stopped in time from
stepping over the edge. His once curly hair stuck out at odd,
spiky angles and there were fading bruises on his face. All
Hutch wanted to do was gather him up and hold on until the lost look
disappeared from his eyes.
Starsky finally seemed to decide to take Hutch and what he said at face
value. He smiled tentatively at Hutch. "Dr.
Bernardi said you're here to take me home. Is that true?"
Hutch nodded, not trusting his voice. Starsky smiled up at the
nurse who was still standing protectively at his shoulder. "Sorry,
sweetheart, looks like they're springing me from this
joint." The statement was so much like Starsky, that it surprised
Hutch. The nurse saw Hutch start and chuckled a bit.
"Your friend has a weird sense of humor, Sgt. Hutchinson. He's
been saying things like that all morning." She stepped
forward a bit and reached out her hand. "We haven't been introduced.
I'm Leslie Burns. I'm the night duty nurse."
Hutch shook her hand.
Dr. Bernardi spoke up, realizing he'd been remiss. "Leslie's the
one who put things together. Her husband's the one who
identified David for us. He's a police officer with the local
department."
Hutch turned one of his smiles on her. "Then I guess it's you
that I have to thank for giving my partner back to me. If you
hadn't recognized him, I hate to think how long it would have been."
Hutch looked back at his partner who was once
again wearing the puzzled look as he watched the exchange. Starsky
smiled up at him, something in his eyes brought
hope to Hutch. "What is it, buddy? Are you remembering
something?"
"I don't know, but every time I look at you, I feel that I should know
you. Especially when you smile like that." Starsky
looked at the doctor. "Is that a good sign, Doc? That I
feel like I know him. Does that mean that my memory's coming
back?" He sounded so hopeful that Hutch couldn't resist laying
a hand on his knee. Starsky flinched slightly at the
contact but when Hutch made to take his hand away, Starsky put his
on top. "It's okay, I'm going to have to get over
jumping every time someone touches me."
"It is a good sign, David. The more you're around familiar people
and places, the more likely your memory will
reawaken." Bernardi answered Starsky's question.
"You don't think this is permanent then, Doctor?" Hutch had to know.
"No. I don't believe that his memory is destroyed, as it would
be by injury. I think, rather, that what David's been through
has caused him to bury those memories so deep that all his other memories
were buried too. Sort of a safety precaution
that got carried away, if you will." He looked down at Starsky.
"David, you may never remember the events of the past
few weeks, but I firmly believe your other memories will come back.
It may take some time, but they should return, at least
most of them. You may never remember everything, but the important
things, like who and what you are should return.
Just be patient."
The doctor turned back to Hutch. "Surround him with familiar things,
talk to him about things that the two of you have
done together. If there's someplace that he liked to go to a
lot, go there. Things like that. Just don't push the memories
of the past weeks. If they come on their own, fine. But
if you push him, his subconscious will only suppress them further,
along with the good memories." He smiled reassuringly at Hutch's
worried expression. "It'll be okay, Sergeant. If you
ever have any questions or concerns, don't hesitate to call me.
Now, why don't you take him home? We need this room
for sick people."
Hutch smiled in return. Standing, he looked down at his partner
and held out his hand. "You ready to go, Starsk?
Dobey's waiting outside to take us to your place. What'cha say
partner?"
Starsky looked at the offered hand, then up into that face that he instinctively
trusted. Placing his hand in the other's he
stood. "I'm more than ready. I don't think I like hospitals
much. I've wanted to get out of here ever since I knew there was
a here to get out of." That sounded so much like something his
partner would say that Hutch couldn't help but laugh.
Starsky grinned a bit, then plaintively asked. "And just what
the heck is a Dobey?"
Trying to contain himself, Hutch explained who and what Dobey.
Bernardi seeing that his patient seemed happy with the
other man, gestured for Leslie to accompany him out of the room.
The two partners hardly seemed to notice their
leaving. Hutch had brought the gym bag in with him. It
contained clothes that Starsky kept at the precinct for
emergencies. Hutch had gone down to the locker room to get it
when they knew that they were going to pick up Starsky.
He had changed his own, slightly decrepit clothes for the fresh ones
in his locker. The first time in a long time that he
cared how he looked.
Going over to the bed, he set the bag down and gestured to his friend.
"I brought you a change of clothes, buddy.
Figured you might need some clean stuff to wear."
Starsky walked slowly to the bed, moving was something he hadn't done
much of in the last weeks. Looking with interest
into the bag, he pulled out a pair of worn faded jeans. He examined
them carefully then turned a slightly dismayed face
up to Hutch. "You mean I wear stuff like this?" Receiving
a noncommittal shrug from Hutch, he delved into the bag
again. Out came a t-shirt, some underwear, and then a pair of
blue Adidas. These last brought a frown to Starsky's
face. He sat down on the bed and turned the shoes over and over
in his hands. Hutch grew concerned over the look of
fear that replaced the frown.
"What is it, Starsk? What's the matter?" Hutch crouched down beside the bed.
Still looking in concentration at the shoes, Starsky replied in a quiet
voice, "I don't know. Something. I remember a man
laughing and someone pulling at my foot. A sharp pain, here."
Starsky lifted his leg and pointed at his ankle. Hutch
pushed up the edge of the hospital pajamas and saw an almost healed
cut. His friend continued. "Then, the man talking,
something about, about. Damn, it's gone again." Starsky
sighed, then looked into Hutch's eyes. "I keep having flashes
like that. I think I'm going to remember then it's gone.
When I saw you come in the room, I knew I knew you, but it was all
jumbled. I know I can trust you, but I'm still scared.
I feel safe with you. I can't explain it, I just know it."
His voice shook
and he swallowed. Hutch reached a hand up and laid it along his
face, covering his cheek and ear. Starsky leaned into
that touch for a moment, then pulled away.
Starsky stood and started to unbutton his pajama top. Hutch handed
him his t-shirt. He needed Hutch's help in getting it
over his head as he was having trouble bending his left arm.
Hutch barely held back his gasp of dismay when he saw the
bruises covering his friend's arm. Starting at mid biceps and
extending down past the elbow, his arm was one mass of
fresh and fading bruises laced with needle marks. Starsky, seeing
the other man's widened eyes looked too. He sat
down suddenly, almost pulling Hutch off his feet when he grabbed his
hand on the way down. The look of terror that
Starsky turned on him frightened Hutch.
"What? Are you remembering something else?" Hutch sat down beside him on the bed.
"Yeah, but I'm not sure what. Being held down, something jabbing
me in the arm. That awful laugh again and words that
make no sense. Being so thirsty, not being able to move.
Being scared." He turned sad eyes to Hutch. "Thinking that
I'd never see you again. I remember that. Why can't I remember
you?"
Hutch's voice almost failed him. "Oh, buddy. You'll remember.
I promise." For the first time in far too long, he put his
arms around his partner and drew him close. Starsky put his own
arms around Hutch's waist and held on. For the first
time in three weeks, Hutch felt complete. His partner, his friend
was safe. Maybe not totally sound, but safe. And he
would do everything in his power to help him. To let him know
he was loved. They had time now. They had time.
*******
Dobey was waiting for them when they came out of the room. Hutch
felt strange introducing the captain to his partner,
but Starsky truly didn't know who he was. Dobey seemed to take
it all in stride and shook Starsky's hand when he offered
his. Walking slowly, matching their pace to Starsky's hesitant
one, the three made their way to the nurses' station. Dr.
Bernardi and the nurse were waiting for them to sign Starsky out officially.
All they needed from the patient was one
signature and while his captain provided the rest, Starsky moved over
to talk to Leslie. Hutch, not seeming to be able to
take his eyes off of him, watched in quiet amusement as the two huddled
close together, speaking in quiet voices. He
was a bit surprised when Starsky hugged her, but not as surprised as
she was. Hutch hadn't even realized that he'd
moved until he found himself standing just behind his partner.
Starsky, seeming to sense him there, released Leslie from
the hug, but kept one arm around her as he turned to Hutch.
A quiet smile played across Starsky's lips as he spoke to Hutch.
"I was just thanking Leslie for everything. For figuring
out who I am and for caring enough to even bother." He turned
back to the slightly blushing nurse. "I may not be able to
remember much right now, but when I do, I won't forget you."
Even he seemed a bit embarrassed by his somewhat
backward statement. He grinned and then kissed the amazed nurse
on the cheek.
Hutch, feeling very grateful himself, leaned forward and kissed her
on the other cheek. Leslie turned a lovely shade of
pink. Hutch chuckled. "I won't forget either, Leslie.
Thank you for helping my partner. If you ever need anything, you've
got at least two friends to call on."
Leslie, slightly taken aback by the two men's actions, wasn't sure how
to respond. "Well, um, if you ever need a nurse,
you know where I am." Blushing even harder, she said a quick
goodbye and headed in the other direction. Hutch and
Starsky grinned at each other. Just for a minute, everything
felt right. Then Starsky's grin slipped and the look of
confusion was back. Hutch felt like someone had kicked him.
Dr. Bernardi came over to say goodbye and give a few last minute instructions,
"I suggest that you see your own doctor
as soon as possible, David. I've written out a prescription for
antibiotics and a list of vitamins that I think you should take
for the next while. You're body's been through quite an ordeal
and will need plenty of rest and good food to get back in
shape. Take good care of that cut on your head, it's already
a bit infected and must be kept clean." The doctor handed
some papers to Starsky, who looked at them in dismay.
"I hate taking pills." He muttered. Hutch and Dobey exchanged questioning looks.
Dr. Bernardi smiled. "You see? David already remembers some
things. He'll regain the rest of his memories, with time,
rest, and improving health. Just be patient."
"Don't worry, Doctor. I plan on taking very good care of Starsky." That was a promise Hutch knew he could keep.
Dr. Bernardi handed Starsky a manila envelope. "These are the
things you had on you when you were admitted, David.
I'm afraid it's not much. The nurses on duty that evening threw
away the clothes you were wearing, but they kept these."
Starsky looked inside the envelope then dumped the contents onto the
nearby counter. Out slid a small card, a few
coins, and two rings. Hutch let out a small sigh. Starsky
looked at him inquiringly. Hutch shook his head. Starsky picked
up the card and read it then passed it on to Hutch. It was the
welfare card with Michael Swartz's name on it. Hutch gave it
to Captain Dobey. It would go in the file on Gibbons. Hutch
wondered which of the two dead men the card belonged to or
if there were more victims of Gibbons' madness yet to be found.
Starsky was poking at the coins and the rings. Hutch reached over
Starsky's hand and picked up the two rings, one gold,
one silver. He held them for just a moment then returned them
to Starsky. "These are yours, Starsk. You've worn them
on your left little finger for as long as I've known you. They're
one of the reasons I never gave up looking for you. When
you're better, I'll explain why." They lay in Starsky's open
palm, small emblems of the hope that Hutch had kept alive in
his heart. Starsky slid them onto his finger, first the silver,
then the thinner gold one. The way he always wore them. He
looked at them for a moment then closed his hand into a fist.
"I remember someone trying to get them off, but I made a fist and held
on. There was a lot of yelling and I think I was
slapped, but it's kinda blurry. I just knew that I wasn't going
to let anyone take them off." He said quietly, gazing at his
fist. He glanced up at Hutch, afraid to ask questions.
Afraid of what the answers would be. Hutch laid his hand on top of
that fist and squeezed gently.
Saying goodbye to the doctor, the three officers headed for the outside
world. Starsky had a few bad moments when
they approached the main entrance and the attending security guards.
He grabbed Hutch's arm and stepped behind
him. Hutch turned in surprise and was dismayed to see the terror
on Starsky's face. He handed the gym bag he was
carrying to Dobey and put his now free hand on top of Starsky's.
"What's the matter, Starsk?"
Starsky's voice trembled. "Those men, their clothes. I don't
know." His evident confusion added to his fear. "There was
a man, the man with the laugh. He was wearing something like
that." Starsky closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly
back and forth. "It's dark, a voice saying my name. Then
this man in a uniform steps out and...and.... Damn, it's gone."
His voice rose. "Why can't I remember? Damn it!"
"Starsky calm down. You'll remember when you remember. I'll
explain everything later, when you're ready. You don't
need to be afraid. I'm here and I won't let anyone harm you again.
I promise." Hutch put an arm around the agitated
Starsky. "It's okay, pal. That man isn't going to hurt
you again. You're safe." He continued with the soothing words,
rubbing Starsky's back until he quieted. Starsky opened his eyes
and looked again at the two security guards. He took a
deep breath and pulled away from Hutch.
"I'm okay. Let's get out of here."
He started walking towards the doors. Hutch and Dobey had no choice
but to follow. The security guards passed them
through without stopping them and they were soon in Dobey's car on
the way to Starsky's. The drive was a quiet one.
Starsky seemed slightly overwhelmed by the city he had lived in for
most of his adult life and sat hunched down in his
seat. Hutch, sitting beside him in the back, watched him out
of the corner of his eye, not wanting to make matters worse
by commenting on Starsky's unease. It saddened him to see this
man, who loved the city with a deep passion, made
nervous by it. Yet another sin to lie at the feet of Gibbons
and his revenge.
It was almost as much of a relief to Hutch as it was to Starsky to arrive
at their destination. Dobey pulled over to the
sidewalk in front of Starsky's and turned to look at his two detectives
in the back seat. Smiling sympathetically at them, he
handed Hutch the bag.
"I guess you two don't need me here. Hutch, you take all the time
Starsky needs. Starsky, once you're feeling better, I'll
need you to make out some reports but that can wait, for now.
Just rest, like the doctor said. And don't worry about
anything. If you need me, you know where I am. Okay, boys?"
Hutch nodded, smiling at his captain. Starsky, not necessarily
understanding what Dobey meant, but understanding the
intention behind it also smiled. They climbed out of the car
and watched as Dobey drove off. Starsky turned to look at
the building, taking in the empty driveway, the tree growing through
the deck and everything else. A smile played across
his face.
"I remember this place. I think." He turned to Hutch and
gestured towards the stairs. "I hope you have the keys, Hutch,
cause I've seem to come away without them." Hutch pulled out
his own set and handed them to Starsky. Starsky's set
had never shown up. Hutch half feared that they were on yet another
body that Gibbons was planning to torture him
with. They probably never would find them now. Starsky
climbed the stairs slowly, his weakened muscles finding the
climb difficult. Hutch was right behind him. Reaching the
door, Starsky took a deep breath and unlocked the door.
When they had found out that Starsky was alive and that they would be
bringing him home, Hutch had asked Huggy for a
favor. He knew that Huggy had taken care of Starsky's place during
the ordeal, and was very grateful for that. Long ago,
the partners had given Huggy keys to their places for emergencies,
another sign of their trust and regard for their friend.
Hutch asked Huggy to lay in some food and to air out the apartment.
He had also asked Huggy not to be there when he
brought Starsky home. Even through he knew how much their friend
wanted to see Starsky, Hutch knew that too many
people too early might be hard on him. He hadn't known what condition
Starsky was in and now he was glad that Huggy
had agreed.
Starsky stood in the doorway of his home and stared at the room
in front of him. Hutch watched as his friend slowly
walked across the threshold and wandered around looking at everything.
Watched as he looked at a picture on the wall,
ran a finger over the little carriage on the cabinet. Starsky
touched a plant here, straightened a book there, rubbed his
hand on the striped blanket on the couch. Hutch watched the play
of emotions over Starsky's face. Bewilderment,
sadness, and wonder all passed across that expressive face he knew
so well. Finally Starsky completed his tour of the
living room and returned to Hutch's side.
"It's weird, Hutch. Everything seems familiar yet I don't recognize
most of it. I remember that painting," Pointing across
the room. "I remember putting it on the wall, remember hitting
my thumb with the hammer when I put the nail in. But I
don't remember where it came from. I just know that I like it
and it makes me feel happy. When I look at that blanket on
the couch, I think of heat and dust. Being really tired but not
the sleepy kind. More like I'd been doing something and just
wanted to sit down. Oh, and lots of noise. People talking,
but I don't understand what they're saying. Does that make
any sense to you?" Starsky turned confused blue eyes on Hutch.
"Yes, it makes perfect sense. I gave you that painting for your
birthday a couple years ago. You were half drunk, but you
insisted you had to hang it up right then. Luckily you weren't
swinging the hammer very hard when you whacked your
thumb. It wasn't until the next day that you managed to get a
nail in straight enough to put the picture up. I think there's
still a couple of holes in the plaster." Hutch grinned at his
friend.
"Hey, you painted that one didn't you?" Starsky's face lit up
with the sudden memory. "You painted it special for me,
that's why I wanted it up so bad. It was the first one you ever
finished and I was so proud that you gave it to me." He
closed his eyes as if to see the scene more clearly. "There were
a whole bunch of people here, you'd thrown me a
surprise party. We'd been drinking and eating all evening and
everyone had gone home before you gave me that
picture. You'd already given me a present so I wasn't expecting
that." He opened his eyes and stared at Hutch. "I was
so happy. I remember it so clearly, but nothing else."
Starsky looked sad for a moment, then smiled. "But I guess each
time I remember something, it means that my memory is still in there
and it'll come out when it's ready. How about the
blanket? Do you know the story behind that?"
"That one too. We went to Mexico, just after we graduated from
the Academy. We had a long weekend off before we
started our first assignments so we decided to go across the border.
You'd just gotten a new place and wanted to buy
some pottery. You collect Mexican pottery." Hutch pointed
at some pots on the bookshelf. "It was the last day and we
were driving back when you spotted this roadside stand and made me
stop. The temperature must have been over a
hundred and neither of us had gotten much sleep the last couple of
days. There was some kind of street carnival going
on and there were lots of people, all Mexicans, and all talking in
Spanish. You don't understand much Spanish I'm afraid,
Starsky, and I had to translate for you when you decided you had to
have that blanket. The guy really was good at
bargaining, but we finally wore him down to a good price and we started
back home. I was driving, and you fell asleep
before we had gone more than a couple of miles. I remember being
really ticked off at you for sleeping when I was so
tired." Hutch shook his head at their younger selves.
"Yeah and when we reached the border, you tried to tell them I was a
hitch-hiker that you picked up down there. If I
hadn't have had my passport I'd still be sitting in some border jail
trying to work up the money to buy my way out. You
rat." Starsky was as shocked as Hutch when he realized what he
said. "God, that's weird. Maybe my memories are
going to come back old ones first. I don't remember anything
else, but I remember that. Maybe there's hope for me yet."
He yawned.
Hutch was suddenly contrite. Here they'd been standing around,
talking, when his friend was tired and weak. "Starsk,
why don't you go have a shower and get into some pajamas or something.
I'll make you some lunch and then you can
have a nap. How's that sound?" Starsky didn't need much
convincing. Hutch showed him where the bathroom and
bedroom were, a very unsettling thing to do for the resident of the
place. He had just started back towards the kitchen
when a sudden "Oh God." from the bathroom made him rush back.
He found Starsky staring at himself in the mirror in alarm. Starsky
turned horrified eyes at Hutch. "Please tell me this isn't
the way I usually wear my hair." Hutch almost laughed in relief,
but knew his friend was truly upset so didn't.
"No, Starsky. I think that the man who did all this to you cut
it. I'm not sure why unless it was as a means to disguise you.
We found hair at the place he was holding you and Dr. Bernardi also
told me that you had a beard when you arrived at
the hospital. Don't worry, buddy it'll grow back. Have
your shower and afterwards, I'll try to even things up a bit so it
doesn’t look quite so bad."
Starsky was only slightly mollified by this reasoning. Hutch left
him to his shower and went back out to the kitchen.
Starsky returned to the living room, clean and wearing an old sweatsuit
he dredged up from the closet. His eyes were
droopy and he yawned throughout the meal of soup and sandwiches, but
still insisted that Hutch cut his hair for him. It
was while the two were out on the deck, Starsky in a chair with a towel
wrapped around his shoulders that he started to
ask questions.
Starsky wanted to know how long they'd known each other, how long they'd
been partners and other details. He kept
Hutch talking through the entire hair trimming and beyond. Hutch
settled down in one of the deck chairs and told one
story after another about their history together. Starsky listened
intently, not saying much except to ask more questions
and once in a great while interrupting when something triggered a memory.
They spent about an hour out on the deck,
until Hutch noticed that Starsky was starting to doze off and decided
it was time for his friend to have the nap he should
have had long before.
It was while Hutch was helping Starsky settle in bed that Starsky asked
his final question for the afternoon. "We spend a
lot of time together, don't we Hutch?"
"Yeah, we're partners after all. Most of our work we do together."
"No, I mean besides that. From what you've told me, we seem to
be around each other most of the time." He didn't
sound upset, just curious.
"I suppose. We’re best friends, Starsk. You're the best
friend I've ever had. We like being around each other. I guess
when you've been through some of the stuff we have, it makes for tight
friendships." Hutch wanted to say more, tell
Starsky how much he'd missed him. Tell him how he truly felt,
but was afraid of upsetting him. Of frightening him when he
was so unsure of everything.
Starsky smiled up at him, his eyes slowly closing as he drifted off.
He felt for Hutch's hand and grasped it firmly. "I'm glad
you’re my friend, Hutch. I still can't remember much, but I remember
that. Thanks." Hutch sat on the bed for a long time,
holding onto that hand. Watching over the person he loved as
he slept.
*******
Hutch sat and watched Starsky sleep for a long time. Over the
years, he'd often admired the way his partner could sleep
anywhere. Starsky slept the way he did everything else, with
every fiber of his being. An ability that Hutch had never
been able to duplicate. On more than one stake-out, Hutch would
find himself spending as much time watching his
sleeping partner as he did keeping an eye on the job. Starsky
slept the way children do, completely, trusting that there
was someone to keep them safe. That was something that Hutch
had always tried to do. Watch over his partner to keep
him safe.
Hutch felt a sweet sense of peace. The past three weeks were fading
away like an old nightmare, although he would
never forget the lessons he'd learned. Not to take his friend
for granted, not to take what they had for granted. That he
loved this person more than he had ever thought he was capable of loving.
He thought back to their time out on the deck, Starsky sitting in the
chair, Hutch standing behind him, cutting his hair.
Thought of the way that hair had felt under his fingers. He'd
always been a little fascinated by his partner's hair. While
his own was thin, very fine and had a tendency to fluff in the damp,
Starsky's was thick, with a soft spring to it. Starsky
tried hard to control the waywardness of his curls, but they had a
mind of their own. Hutch had always liked touching that
hair. There had been times on those same stakeouts when he was
watching his partner sleep that his hand would
wander over to pet, stroke the dark curls. This afternoon, trying
to repair the damage Gibbons had done to his friend's
hair; he had noticed how very soft it was. How, as he cut it,
it would drift to the floor and lie in perfect, tiny curls on the
wooden boards.
Such a feeling of love and something close to desire had washed over
him as he performed this little task that he had to
step back from Starsky for a moment. Pretending to check how
well he was evening up the sides, just so he could catch
his breath. That feeling had taken him by complete surprise,
seeming so inappropriate at the moment, but Starsky hadn't
seemed to notice anything so he had let it pass.
It frightened him a bit; caring about his partner this much, but
it also made him feel good to put a name to it finally. He
knew that it had been in the back of his mind for a long time, this
emotion, but he'd kept it buried. He was not exactly sure
of why he had always been afraid to admit it to himself. Except
perhaps, the fear that he'd lose the one thing more
important than life itself. That Starsky wouldn't be able to
accept these feelings from his partner and it would end their
friendship. That would kill him as surely as a bullet to the
heart.
But now things were changed. He'd come so close to losing Starsky
forever. He'd finally acknowledged the truth to
himself. And while he may never come right out and tell Starsky
how he felt, as long as they were together he could live
with that. Maybe one day he'd work up the courage. Be able
to take the risk. But not now. He would be content to let
things lie for now. In each day to come, he would do whatever
he could to demonstrate his love without ever stepping
over that line. And maybe one day, somewhere in their future,
he'd say the words and Starsky would understand and not
leave.