Lin P

   "Damn!" Hutch slammed the steering wheel with both fists. Traffic ahead of him had come to a standstill again. It was four thirty in the afternoon and he was in the middle of rush hour congestion. He cursed drivers ahead of him, cursed the traffic lights that dammed any fluid motion but most of all cursed himself for not thinking and driving into this mess. His mind hadn't been in clear working order when he'd jumped into his old LTD and raced out of the precinct parking lot. Captain Dobey had just finished telling him that Starsky had been hit by a car.

~~~~    

   "Hit by a car?" Hutch gasped. "When?"

   "Take it easy, Hutch," Dobey said, "He's alright, or at least they think he is..."

   "They think he is? What happened?"

   "He was over on 56th Street. Apparently he was about to get in his car when some young kid drove way too close and hit him. He was thrown to the the front of his car."

   "What hospital did he go to?" Hutch asked desperately.

   Dobey raised a hand. "Slow down. He's not at the hospital - they took him to St. Edward's, but he walked out."

   "He walked out...What do you mean?...Why the hell..."

   "Hutch!" Dobey was becoming exasperated. "The sooner you let me finish the sooner you can go see him!" He took a deep breath and continued. "He was taken to St. Edward's Emergency. They did some tests on him and were waiting to do more when he walked, no, stumbled out on his own. They were waiting to take him in for a CT Scan but he didn't stick around long enough. I just talked to the Emergency doctor on the phone. He tried to talk him into staying, but he couldn't force him."

   "Well, what did they say about him? What did he look like?"

   "Apparently he's got some nasty cuts, he let them take care of those, going to have some big bruises too. But they're worried about any kind of internal damage. That's what they wanted to do the CT for - and keep an eye on him. He might be alright, they don't know. But they weren't through with him"

   Hutch rubbed his face then asked in a low tone, "Cap, how come I'm just hearing about this now?"

   Dobey glared at him. "How about because you've been away from your radio the last hour? Is that simple enough?"

   Hutch dropped his eyes. He'd been sulking over a long lunch a block away from the precinct and had walked there and back.

   "I don't know what your problem has been lately, Hutch, but you've been riding him pretty hard. You've been covering your cases separately - that's right, I know - and that ends right now. 'I' would have known a lot sooner if you'd been with him! Now get your miserable self over to his apartment and try to get him back to the hospital. And nicely, for a change!"

   Hutch spun and headed out but stopped at the door and turned back.

   "The kid who hit him. Did he stop?"

   "Yeah," Dobey said, sitting down, " they said he feels real bad. He just got his license. Dad's car. Friends in the backseat to impress. You know the story."

~~~~    

   Hutch rubbed the sweat off his forehead, squinting hard at the cars all around him. He couldn't sit in this mess of traffic any longer. He reached for his cherry, turned the bright dome on and put it out on the roof of his car.

   "Let's go!! Move it!" He yelled. Even though it seemed impossible for anyone to find the room to get out of his way, finally a small path did open up and with two wheels riding on the sidewalk Hutch maneuvered his way off the busy street and into an alley. From there he turned onto a side street and hit the gas.

   "Shit!" He spat as he drove as quickly as he dared. In just a few days things that had spiraled from bad to worse just hit bottom.

~~~~    

   It had started on the weekend. Hutch got dumped by his girlfriend, or rather by his girlfriend's new boyfriend. He'd been seeing Kathy for over two months and was growing more and more entranced with her. He missed her company when they hadn't seen each other for more than a day. So he'd decided to pay her a surprise visit on Saturday afternoon. When a strange man with only shorts on, toweling his hair, answered the door Hutch was for a moment lost for words.  But when Kathy came to the door to see who it was an awkward conversation soon escalated into a vicious exchange of words. Hutch had stopped just short of hitting the man who was taunting him to scram like a stray cat, while Kathy smirked behind him. He walked away infuriated and humiliated. That night he sat at home and drank beer in the dark until he passed out in his chair. Waking up Sunday with a banging headache he'd discovered he had no aspirin or anything like it in the house. He contemplated asking one of his neighbors for some but decided on driving to the drugstore. Four blocks from home his car stalled in the middle of an intersection. He waited over an hour to have it towed to a garage where he was told the mechanics wouldn't be in till the next day. Hutch cabbed it home in a very foul mood, still no aspirin and now no car.

   When Starsky picked him up Monday morning he could see right away his partner was in very ill humor. He knew to tread softly.

   "How was your weekend, or should I ask?"

   "You shouldn't. Just drive, Starsk."

   "Sure. Hey, I finally talked Susan into going out with me. I ran into her at the...."

   "Look, I don't care. I'm not interested, okay?" Hutch snapped.

   "Whatever." Starsky said, a little stung, and they continued the trip in silence.

   At their desks Starsky tried once more to draw Hutch out of his sullen mood but was only met by more short, caustic remarks. A phone-call Hutch got a little later did nothing to improve his disposition. After a short conversation Starsky watched him slam down the receiver and slowly shake his head in anger.

   "Bad news?"

   Hutch looked up at his partner. The headache that had been swimming in and out since yesterday was treading its way back in.

   "What else? That stinking car is going to cost me $300. It couldn't be anything simple."

   Starsky smiled. "I told you that thing was going to be the end of you, I just didn't know it would be your pocketbook."

   "Funny, Starsk." Hutch stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. "Let's go.  I just can't wait to spend all day listening to that fucking lousy sense of humor."

   Hutch was out the door and Starsky slowly, reluctantly followed.

   For the rest of the day and the next things didn't change. Hutch's temper controlled everything he did or said. Where he showed impatience with co-workers and the public, he held nothing back with his partner. Starsky, for his part, tried to be understanding. Tried too hard, Dobey and the other men in the squad room thought as they watched the confrontations. Most other partners would have given what they got by now. Dobey considered pulling Hutch into his office a few times for a finger-wagging but held back. He'd seen his detective in moods like this before, but never for more than a day. Starsky usually managed to eventually bring a smile to his partner's scowling face. But this time Hutch's personality had taken a real U-turn and Starsky was having a hard time keeping up.

~~~~~~~~

   Wednesday morning the two partners drove in separately. Hutch had gotten his car from the garage the night before and had been handed a repair bill for over $340. The dark cloud that had been over his head dropped a little lower.

   He poured himself a coffee and sat at his desk.

   "Mornin'", he muttered to his partner who was bent over his typewriter.

   Starsky put his hands in his lap and turned to look at Hutch.

   "You got your car back okay?"

   "Uh huh."

   Starsky slowly nodded and looked away.

   "Hutch?"

   "Yeah, I know," Hutch replied, digging into his desk drawer for Aspirin, "you've been doing all the driving. Relax, Starsky, I'll goddamed make it up, okay?"

   Starsky opened his mouth to say more then changed his mind and turned back to his work.

   Before long Hutch was ridiculing the report Starsky handed him to co-sign. Instead of trying to placate his partner, as he had been, Starsky distractedly brushed him off. This morning he appeared deflated, beaten. His unknown cheering section, the other officers watching out of the corners of their eyes, were confused and almost a little disappointed. As much as everyone liked and admired Hutch they'd been waiting for Starsky to finally get mad, retaliate and end the blond man's inane behavior.

   Finishing their paperwork they set half an hour late to interview a robbery victim. On their way down the precinct hallway Starsky spoke up, trying to hide any desperation in his voice.

   "Do you want to hit Huggy's after the shift? We could talk, you know...haven't had a cold one together for a while."

   "No. I'm just going to head 'er out."

   "How about just a fast one? Or, if you don't want to go to Huggy's I've got a six-pack in my fridge."

   "Whoopee. I'll pass."

   And Hutch strode ahead leaving Starsky once again in his disdainful wake.

   After conducting their interview with the victim, a middle-aged woman who'd been the latest to suffer a rash of home invasions, they decided to grab lunch at a nearby diner. Sitting in the booth Hutch stabbed at his food, hungry or in a rush to be out of there, Starsky didn't know. He pushed his own meal around on the plate.

   "You know, Hutch, for all that she went through, I guess she could count herself as lucky compared to the last two. Least she didn't spend time in the hospital."

   "I wouldn't call her lucky."

   "You know what I mean. I wonder if it's the same perps...they went a lot easier on her."

   "Because she's the first one who didn't put up a fight."

   "Yeah, probably." Starsky paused. "Listen, I, uh..."

   "Are you going to yammer on or finish that? I don't want to sit in this grease-pit any longer than I have to."

   Starsky sighed his hundredth sigh that week. He left his unwanted meal and they headed back to the precinct. They weren't back in the squad room long at all when Dobey approached their desks.

   "Got another one for you, boys. It's Russo and Maxwell's case, but they're backed right up." He handed Starsky sheet of paper. "Just talk to this Maureen Perkins and see if she can give you anything on her delightful son's whereabouts. He jumped bail yesterday on his assault charges."

   "Sure, Cap." Starsky pulled his jacket back on.

   "I'll meet you down at the car, Starsky." Hutch said. "I want to check the time sheets. My paycheck was screwed up."

   Starsky was leaning on Hutch's car in the underground police garage when he raised his head to see Hutch stomping towards him.

   "Where do you get off putting in for holidays in two weeks? You know that's when Gray's case goes to trial. What the hell did you go and do that for?"

   Starsky straightened to face Hutch's latest barrage.

   "I've got to go back to New York."

   "Why?" Hutch snapped back.

   "It's my mother's birthday. I've missed a lot since I ...."

   "Your mother's birthday?! You're dumping that huge caseload to deliver on me because of a birthday?"

   "I don't have a choice, Hutch."

   "Yeah, you have a choice. Don't give me that crap."

   Starsky' voice was low. "Just drop it."

   "Oh well," Hutch said sarcastically, "sure, I'll just drop it. While I'm sitting on that court bench all week with the heaviest testimony we've had in a year you go on ahead. Go and have a fine fucking time blowing out candles with mommy."

   Starsky glanced away. The dam he'd been struggling to hold was bursting and when he looked back his expression was hard and his voice menacing.

   "I'm going because she asked me to. Because she's dying."

   Hutch paused, not understanding. "Wha...what?"

   "She's got cancer. It's everywhere."

   "My God," Hutch whispered, "Oh my God...I'm sorry."

   Starsky's eyes blazed. "Yeah, well, don't beat yourself up over it. That's not your style."

   He started to walk away when Hutch broke out of his reverie and grabbed his arm.

   "Starsk, I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me?"

   "I tried!" He yelled, pulling his arm away. "But I haven't been able to open my mouth lately without you cutting in to tell me how shitty I make your life. What was I supposed to do, type you a letter?"

   Hutch couldn't reply. His own behavior had finally turned and slapped him in the face.

   "So I'm goin'." Starsky sneered, belying the pain that had crept into his eyes. "For a week. It's sure be a fine fucking time."

   "Starsk...I...I've been such an asshole."

   "Yeah, you have." Starsky said as he started towards the garage exit. "You go take care of that call by yourself. I'm going for a walk."

   "Wait." Hutch began to follow him, but his partner stopped him with the look on his face.

   "I don't owe you anything, Hutch. You leave me alone." And he was gone.

   Hutch stood there for a long time. Finally, the blond man who'd been sharing his anger with everyone around him got into his car and drove off - with a new emotion that was all his to keep, deep shame.

~~~~~~~~

   Hutch winced as he recalled yesterday's scene in the garage. The desolation on Starsky's face as he turned to leave.  "Only your best friend could hurt you like that. I blew it." Hutch thought, as he rounded the corner onto Starsky's street. "I blew it."

    ~~~~

   After a quick, disinterested questioning of the bail-jumper's mother, Hutch had rushed back to the precinct to find his partner. He wasn't there, no one had seen him. When he was trying to decide what to do next, Starsky walked in and over to his desk without looking at Hutch. He sat down, lost, staring at the blotter in front of him. "Starsk..."

   Starsky widened his eyes, as if to wake himself up. "No, this is no good." He stood back up again. "I'm going. Tell Dobey what you want. I'll bring my own car in tomorrow."

   Hutch moved to block his way. "Listen, we've got to talk. I want to talk to you."

   "I'm a little sick of your conversation, Hutch. Leave it."

   "I'll give you a lift home."

   "No. I asked you to leave me alone. Do that." He headed out of the room and Hutch wanted to run after him, desperately, and try somehow to change this. But he'd heard the strain in Starsky's voice and saw the aversion in his eyes. As much as he wanted to follow and plea, apologize, he knew that right now it would only be offensive, intrusive, like a knife going back into the wound it had cut. He unwillingly and unhappily hung back.

   Dobey arrived back in the squad room ten minutes later to see his detective leaning back in his chair gazing at a pink incident sheet. Walking up behind him, he saw the sheet was blank. "Having trouble with the 'once upon a time'?"

   Hutch started and looked quickly at his captain. "Uh, no." He straightened in his chair and took a long breath. "I know how to start it, but I don't know how to finish it."

   Dobey furrowed his eyebrows at that. "Where's your partner?"

   "He had to run on an errand. I'm catching up with him later."

   "Well, this is a productive team. What happened with the Perkins case?"

   "She swears she hasn't seen him. But there's lots of relatives in the area, cousins I'd check on."

   "Did you tell Maxwell and Russo?"

   "No, they're not back yet. "

   "Okay." Dobey said over his shoulder going to his office. "When you're done staring at that sheet, put it in your typewriter and do something with it. If that's the Radul report, it's late already."

   Hutch spent the rest of the day in a half trance, plodding through his tasks indifferently. When he headed back out to the streets to keep an appointment with a local snitch he pulled over to a phone booth. He couldn't fight the urge to call Starsky any longer. But as he stood there listening to the ringing at the other end he was apprehensive.

   "What do I say? Hello, this is your poison calling. Hi, it's your best old ex-friend Ray." No matter. No answer. More futile calling until Hutch drove over after work to Starsky's block. The red Torino was in its parking space. Hutch sat in his car. He had a spare key, but wouldn't use it. It wasn't meant for something like this. Hours later, when the street had grown dark and quiet he was still there. He finally shook his head and went home.

   The next day Starsky showed up and quietly but firmly told Hutch that they would be doing their caseload separately. That's the way he wanted it. "You go look at the Radul evidence, I'm going to ask some more questions at his office."

   "Starsk, we can't keep this up..."

   "Hutch," Starsky whispered as he looked down. "Don't. ...I'm keeping up the only way I know how."

   Hutch was trying to find the right words when the dark head came back up. The doors had closed as fast as they'd opened. "You do your stuff, and I'll do mine." And so they parted for the day.

~~~~~~~~

   Hutch finally pulled up in front of the apartment building. Taking the steps up to the entrance two at a time and jogging down the hallway, he finally came to a halt at Starsky's door. He held his breath and rang the doorbell. Nothing.

   "Starsky!" He rang again, waited, then rapped hard on the door. "Starsk, I'm coming in!" His hands shook with growing panic as he fumbled to put the key into the lock and turn it. He swung open the door.

   "I'm okay. Go." Starsky sat on his couch, gazing ahead. He was still in his leather jacket and was hugging a pillow close to him. Hutch crossed the room and crouched down in front of him.

   "Starsky." His partner met his look with exhausted eyes.

   "It's nothing. I just got banged up, I'll be alright."

   "No. You don't look alright." He had a gauze bandage over one eye with a small round stain of blood on it. A bruise was creeping out under its edges. Another bandage wrapped around his left hand. Hutch saw the heavy scuff mark running up the jacket's left shoulder. Starsky was hunched over the pillow, his fingers clasping it. He looked back at the pale face.

   "Look, you need to go back to the hospital. They weren't done with you."

   "I'm not goin' back."

   You can't just sit here like this, Starsky..."

   "Yeah, I can. It's all I want to do."

   "Listen to me. I'll take you back and they'll make sure there's nothing else wrong. If there isn't, you'll probably be back here by...."

   "Hutch," Starsky cut in irritably, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm fine." He turned his head away. "Why don't you just pack up and go? I'm alright and I don't need you here."

   Hutch stood back up in exasperation. During the end of Starsky's long hospitalization, after the Gunther shooting, he had developed almost a phobia of the countless needles, IV's, tubes and painful tests. He'd vowed he'd never go through that again. It was looking like he meant it. Hutch took a few steps away then turned back to look at Starsky.

   "This is crazy. I know the hospital isn't your favorite place to spend time, but how can you just sit there - and I know you're in pain – and pretend you'll be alright? You're not fooling me, Starsk, so I know you're not fooling yourself. I don't know how to help you."

   "I didn't ask for it."

   "Will you go?"

   "I told you - no. You've done your job. Now go."

   Hutch came back and crouched again in front of his friend and hesitantly put a hand on his knee. They stared at each other. "There's where you have no say," Hutch spoke. "I never, ever thought I'd let you down like I've done. I hate him, that part of me that did it. Probably more than you do. But I'm not going to let you down again, Starsk, and leave you like this."

   Starsky peered at him, questioning with his eyes, but too soon the doubt and weariness clouded them over again and he dropped his head. Hutch saw the veil drop. He squeezed Starsky's knee then let go. "Did you at least get anything at the hospital before you left - for the pain? A shot or pills?"

   "In my pocket."

   Hutch reached and gently pried the pillow from Starsky's hands. He dug into the jacket pockets and found a small plastic bottle. He looked behind him and sat back on the coffee table, reading the label. "How many did you take? Doesn't look like anything's kicked in."

   "I can't take any."

   "Why not?"

   Starsky grimaced for a moment, wondering whether to answer. "I've taken those before. They knock me out. I have to call my mother in an hour. She's at the doctor's till then."

   Hutch sighed and rubbed his mouth while he thought. "Why don't you take one, Starsk, and if it zonks you out, I'll wake you up in an hour to call her."

   "I have to talk to her."

   "I know. I promise I'll wake you up. I have to do something right here." He smiled weakly at his friend.

   Starsky didn't return the smile. He was silent for a moment. "Okay, but you have to wake me."

   "Sure." Hutch rose and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Returning back to his seat on the coffee table, he opened the bottle and handed a blue capsule to Starsky who washed it down with a few sips of the water.

   Hutch then went to the bedroom and came back with the quilt pulled off the bed. He tried to cajole Starsky into lying down, but he insisted on sitting up, careful and rigid. It didn't take long before Hutch saw the drug taking its effect. The dark eyes were drooping lower and the tension was sagging slowly out of his posture. Hutch took another pillow from the bed and when he came back he awkwardly worked the leather jacket off. He eased his partner down onto his side, a pillow under his head and the other still in his arms, and covered him with the quilt.

   An hour later he woke the groggy man as much as he could. Starsky was having a befuddled conversation with his mother and when Hutch saw that he couldn't continue he took the phone away and spoke to Mrs. Starsky himself. He explained that her son had taken some strong painkillers for a sore arm. They'd knocked him out for a little while. He didn't mention her illness. It wasn't his place, not yet.

   After hanging up he made sure his slumbering partner was comfortable again then settled down in the big easy chair. There was a small sound. It crept into the back of his dream but it was advancing, weaving, back and forth. Humming. A man's voice. A long moan, then another.

   Hutch bolted upright in his chair. His partner had thrown his quilt off and was laying on his back on the couch, writhing slowly with pain. His legs climbed weakly up and down, his head was strained back into the pillow. "Starsky!" Hutch darted over to him.

   The dark head turned towards him with sad, beseeching eyes and he could only gasp one mournful word. "No."

~~~~~~~~

   Hutch paced up and down the gleaming hospital floors. He'd been steered to the lounge to wait for news on his partner. It was impossible to sit and open a magazine like the few others slumped in theirs chairs. So he was in the hallway, walking the length of it, trying hard to quell his fear.

   Waiting for the ambulance back at the apartment had played out like a slow motion nightmare. Minutes dragged like hours as he'd watched Starsky sink into unconsciousness, watched the pain grab his body, wring it and then let go. His eyes would fly open with these waves, but they were glazed and unseeing before they rolled to the back of his head again.

   Hutch tried in vain to keep his friend awake, calling his name frantically, putting shaking hands on the cold, wan face. But by the time the paramedics poured through the doorway Starsky was still and quiet on the couch, only a soft groan escaping him when they lifted him onto their gurney.

    ~~~~

   Dobey was striding quickly towards Hutch down the hallway.

   "What happened?"

   "He was fine for a while, then...he got sick real fast. I don't know what's going on, Cap. They took him from the ambulance right up the operating room. Said it looked like internal bleeding but I haven't heard anything since."

   Hutch leaned against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut.

   "How long has he been in there now?"

   "I called you right away, not that long. Not even an hour."

   "Why wasn't he back here to begin with?"

   "Because I couldn't make him!" Hutch pushed angrily off the wall. "I tried to convince him...but he wanted to ride it out. He wouldn't budge."

   The anger dropped out. "I should have dragged him here, I know that now."

   "Well, you tried. It's nobody's fault your partner is a mule."

   Hutch shook his head. "I'm doing everything wrong lately."

   "Well, you haven't been a treat to be around, but you didn't hit him with that car." Dobey paused. "I know about his mother, he told me when he asked for the week off...his troubles don't all stem back to you, Hutch. Don't flatter yourself." A thin smile.

   Hutch considered this. "No...but....I couldn't see he was already unsteady... and I just reached and yanked the rug right out from under him."

   Dobey sighed. "Come on, you can buy me a coffee. It might be a long wait."

   "I don't want to leave in case they come with something about him."

   "There's a vending machine back around the corner. We won't be going anywhere."

    ~~~~

   It was another two hours before a doctor in green scrubs and a plastic cap still on his head made introductions sat them down to talk to them.

   "Well, I think we can say your friend is a very lucky man, considering the fact that he left here earlier. There was a massive bleed from his spleen. There wasn't any time to try and salvage it, we took it right out. He won't miss it - you can live a normal life without your spleen. His liver was also bleeding, but barely, that's good news. He's on a blood clotter and it should do the trick. We'll keep a close eye on him."

   "What happens if it doesn't work?" Hutch asked.

   "Then we'd probably have to re-operate."

   "Again?" He was alarmed.

   "We wouldn't have any other choice, Mr. Hutchinson. But I don't think that's a bridge we'll have to cross, the liver repairs itself very quickly."

   "So," Dobey asked "he's going to be alright then?"

   "He came through the operation fine. He's doing well. It's wait and see with his liver for a little while but I'd be surprised if that causes any more trouble. If everything goes well, I think it's safe to say he'll be home in four or five days."

   Hutch closed his eyes in a silent thank you.

   The doctor rose. Hutch and Dobey followed suit and they shook hands.

   "Some of the O.R. nurses remembered David from his stay here two years ago. They called him 'death-defying'."

   "This time," Dobey replied with a frown, "you could just call him dumb."

   "When can we see him?" Hutch asked.

   "He's in an Observation Room on the fifth floor. They won't let you visit with him for very long. They're guard dogs and they will bite if you argue."

    ~~~~

   The large Observation Room held four beds, each holding a quiet form under white blankets. A nurse looked up from her small station in the middle of the room and smiled as Hutch and Dobey crossed over to Starsky's bed by the window.

   "Did you check with the desk outside first?"

   "Yeah," Dobey answered as Hutch continued to the beside. "We're here to see Detective Starsky. They said ten minutes."

   "Right. He was awake a few minutes ago. But he's still pretty groggy."

   And she went back to her charts.

   Hutch stood at the bedside and peered searchingly at his partner. There were IV's again and tubes, wires and machines . He tentatively touched the fingers curling out from the bandaged hand.

   "He hates all this." Hutch said quietly to his captain standing beside him.

   Starsky's eyes opened.

   "Starsk?"

   The dark head turned slightly towards his voice, confusion on his face.

   "Hey there."

   "Starsky," the eyes went to Dobey, "how are you, son? Glad to have you back."

   They watched his right arm move and before they realized what he was doing Starsky was grabbing for the oxygen tube under his nose.

   "No, partner." Hutch gently pushed the arm back down. "You've got to keep that on for a while."

   Starsky gazed back at him.

   "Do you remember what happened?"

   A small shake of the head.

   "Your spleen started bleeding. They had to operate and take it out. The doctor said everything went fine. You won't be in here for long, Starsk."

   "That's right," Dobey put in, smiling, "you're pretty tough."

   Starsky opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out and he closed his eyes once more. Hutch and Dobey waited a few minutes.

   "I guess we should go." Dobey whispered.

   "Not yet."

   "Okay, Hutch, I'll wait outside."

   Hutch watched his friend for a little longer when the nurse told him it was time to go. He reluctantly started to leave when Starsky's eyes flew open again, panic written in them.

   "Hey, what's wrong? You're alright."

   "Mmm..." He stopped and swallowed deep. "Mother."

   "I haven't called her. Do you want me to?"

   He shook his head a few times and when he stopped was sound asleep.

~~~~~~~~

   Starsky spent five more days in the hospital. His liver did heal itself and there was no more threat of another operation. He called his mother from a phone brought to his room every night and was compelled to tell her little white lies when asked about his day.  Hutch went up to see him every evening after work. He'd sit for a few hours by the bedside or walk in the hall with him but he knew things still weren't right. The uncomfortable pauses in conversation and awkward attempts at starting them up again. The easy company they'd always had together had changed. Whenever Hutch tried to cross the chasm with pitiful sounding words of remorse Starsky would shut him down quickly. So Hutch didn't push, he just kept faith his friend would come back to him in his own time.

    ~~~~

   When they entered Starsky's apartment Hutch dropped the small overnight bag onto the couch while Starsky gingerly walked to over to a kitchen chair and lowered himself  into it.

   "Well, you're back." Hutch said, hoping to sound cheerful. "Want something to eat, I got you some fresh groceries, or do you want to crash for a while?"

   "I don't know. Probably just crash."

   "Okay, I'll read or turn the tube on low."

   "No, Hutch. No, you can go."

   "What do you mean?"

   "I mean you can go. I'm fine. Thanks but no thanks."

   Hutch sat down at the table across from him.

   "Here we go again. You're not fine."

   "That was different. They wouldn't have let me out of the hospital if I needed a babysitter."

   "Starsk, how about I stay just tonight? People don't bounce out of hospitals. Have a sleep and I'll make you some dinner later."

   "Aw, Hutch." Starsky put his elbows on the table and covered his face for a moment. Pulling his hands back down he looked sadly at the blond man for a long moment.

   "I don't want you to stay. You saved my life and I still can't be around you."

   Hutch sat speechless.

   Starsky took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What you did wasn't the end of the world, Hutch. I know that...but it hurt."

   "I know."

   "It still hurts when you're around."

   Hutch looked at him like a scared child, waiting.

   "I can't switch on and off for you, I can't help it."

   "Starsky, I just want to make up for everything.."

   "My mom's dying." His voice cracked. "It's tearing my heart out and you want a piece of it. There's nothing to give you, Hutch, not right now."

   They both sat there in a terrible silence until Starsky spoke up again.

   "When I got hit by that car all I could think about was whether I'd see my Mom for her birthday. It scared the shit out of me. She's all I can think about - not you, not me."

   "I understand that."

   "No, you don't. The pain between you and me....it's gotta get in line. There's this other one center stage and I can't take two of them right now. I can't." His eyes shined bright with tears.

   "Okay," Hutch whispered, "....are we going to be okay, Starsky?"

   He waited.

   "I think we will be. I want us to. When I can."

~~~~~~~~

   They stood under the gray New York sky, fall leaves swirling around their feet, breezes picking up their hair. The graveyard was empty except for them.

   "It's beautiful, Starsk."

   Starsky nodded slowly. "It was always her favorite song. I grew up listening to her sing that, ironing or cooking or something."

   He smiled sadly to himself. "Now I find myself singing it."

Oh dig my grave long wide and deep
With a marble stone at my head and feet
And in the middle a turtle dove
So the whole world knows that I died for love

THE END