Hello everyone! This is my first Starsky and Hutch story ever. This takes place 3 months after the episode "The Fix" from season 1. This is from Hutch's POV as he struggles with the aftermath of what happened. Includes potential drug use/references and violence. Please review and let me know what you think!

Finding a Fix

I woke up to the sound of my alarm at 5:30 AM. I groaned and got up. I didn't have to be ready for work for hours, but I needed to run. I had been running more the last three months. After all, I needed something to do at 5:30 in the morning other than remember Jeanie and how I'd sold her out for a fix. Other than relive one of the worst times in my entire life. Other than remember how awful I felt about everything that had happened. Starsky and I had talked about it a few times, but deep down I knew I was still wasn't quite ready to let it go.

My effort to distract myself with running backfired on me though. What always happened was that I spent my whole run every day thinking over a million possible scenarios in which it never happened, or turned out completely different due to some factor or another. Somehow though, it had become my coping mechanism, an odd source of therapy. So, I ran a few miles every morning before work. Then I would get home, shower, and wait for Starsky to appear with some excuse for why he was late yet again. Then we would do our job and afterwards he would invite me out or over to his place and I would say yes. Then we would hang out and discuss nothing of importance. I wasn't drinking anymore though. I wasn't sure why, I guess I just never had the desire for a beer as of late. Besides, my liver would appreciate it if nothing else. Then I would go home, toss and turn until eventually exhaustion overtook me, then sleep a few hours until 5:30. Then my whole routine would start over the next day, just as it had this morning.

I had just finished my post-run shower when Starsky showed up. He was eating a Danish and going on about some waitress he thought might be into him.

"So anyway, Hutch, there I am the only solitary soul in the whole place willing to help her clean up the mess from the tray she dropped. Then this manager jerk says I can't help her 'cause of insurance or some nonsense. So I told him that no insurance company should stop a man from being a gentleman," he said in what seemed to be all one breath.

"I suppose you asked for her number like a gentleman after all this?" I asked.

"Of course! And I got it too!" He grinned.

"Does she have a name?" I asked. He nodded as he started going through my fridge.

"Elizabeth. She works at the bakery two blocks from the station," he replied.

"Maybe she can get you a discount on all that junk you buy there," I offered. He glared at me.

"Ah, you're just jealous because I won't be able to go out with you this weekend," he teased. I shrugged.

"Why should I care? For all you know I could have plans that don't include you this weekend," I protested.

"Because we both know you haven't been out of this house without me practically dragging ya' for the better part of 3 months," he said, not bothering to hide his worry.

"So? I'm catching up on my reading," I joked. I didn't bother trying to deny it. I never felt like going out in the evenings anymore.

"You okay, buddy? Be straight with me." The worry in his voice was stronger now. I couldn't keep lying to him, but I knew if we opened that conversation again there was no way I could handle it. I had no desire to spend anymore time crying over something I should have been done with 3 months ago. Especially not in front of him.

"I will be. I'm getting there, I am." I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince. He looked at me skeptically.

"I hope you mean that," he said.

"I do." I think I do anyway. I added silently. He seemed to buy it. For now.

"How come ya' never got any food in this house?" he asked, returning his attention to my well stocked fridge.

"I have food, you're looking at it."

"This? This is not food, Blondie. This is kale, carrots, broccoli and a whole lot of nothing. How am I supposed to eat a good breakfast?"

"Eat at home?" I suggested. That comment earned me a glare. "Or maybe order something else from your pretty waitress?"

"And have her think I'm a pig that does nothing but eat? I already told her the 2 extra pastries were for my partner...which was obviously a cover."

"Well, if the shoe fits..." I smirked.

"You can be a real pain, you know that? Maybe I'm glad I can't go out with you this weekend," he said.

" I don't mind, Elizabeth is probably prettier than me anyway," I teased back. That was one thing that still felt normal. In the midst of some good-natured harassment I could almost forget that anything had changed between us. I could almost forget how he had seen me at my absolute worst. Almost.

Paperwork wasn't my favorite part of the job. Starsky liked it even less than I did, which meant I had spent the entire day listening to him complain about having to do it. My only relief came when he decided to visit the vending machine. I wondered how he could possibly be hungry after three pastries, a handful of nuts from my place, a bag of pretzels, two candy bars and whatever he was on a mission to acquire now. I stifled a yawn and took another sip of my now very cold coffee. Captain Dobey's office door opened and I heard a file hit my desk.

"Hutchinson!" Dobey yelled in a tone that told me he wasn't at my desk just to say hello.

"Good morning, Captain," I said politely.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've asked you two to correct this?" he pointed at the file. I opened it and groaned. It was a report from an arrest we had made last week. Starsky had written it up originally, but he forgot an important detail or two and had a good chewing out from Dobey over it. Then it appeared on my desk five minutes after he had turned it in for the second time so I could fix his spelling and grammar mistakes in the additions.

"You and Starsky have worked in this division almost six years and you still can't properly complete a report! This needs dated correctly and signed with your legal name!" he said, emphasizing the words "correctly" and "legal". I looked at it again and noticed the month was off and that I had signed it Ken instead of Kenneth. I cringed internally at my carelessness. I had never in my nearly six years as a detective or in my years in uniform ever signed anything wrong before.

"Sorry, we'll fix it for real this time." I said. Dobey shook his head and glared at me.

"Where is that partner of yours anyway?" he demanded.

"Vending machine."

"Figures. Just see that you get it done and done right!" he ordered and went back to his office. Just then Starsky appeared with a bag of potato chips.

"Cap looks mad, what did we do this time?" he asked while opening his chips from the wrong end.

"It seems you don't know dates and I don't know my name, Starsk." I told him sliding the file over. He looked at it with disdain.

"Aw come on, really? We've re-wrote this thing how many times now? How did I mess up that date?" he scowled. "And why on Earth did ya' sign this Ken instead of Kenneth?" He was clearly frustrated.

"I don't know, maybe I thought I was signing a birthday card instead of a legal form?" I said, angry with myself for making such a stupid mistake. It seemed like I was making them constantly these days.

"We both must be out of it. I think it's all the extra paperwork lately, it's tiring stuff!" he theorized. "What we need is a break. Wanna take lunch early?"

"No, we should fix it first.," I said, wanting to get it over with.

"Stickler!"

"We can't procrastinate forever, we have to do it correctly," I responded.

"Says the guy that can't remember his own name!"

"You can't even remember the date from last week! And technically it's still my name either way! So I left out four letters, big deal! I'd still have to sign it again anyway since you messed up the date!" I shot back. I knew this argument was stupid, but I was frustrated, tired, and hungry. Starsky rolled his eyes and angrily shoved a chip into his mouth.

"Fine, you don't have to throw a tantrum about it! We'll fix it before lunch." He grabbed the typewriter and set it on his desk with a loud bang, aggravating my now splitting headache.

"Think you could be a little more annoying with that?" I grumbled.

"Hutch, if ya' quit griping at me, I might get this done faster so you can sign it with your proper, legal, full, correct name!" he said. We both let out an exasperated sigh and got back to our endless mountain of paperwork.

Hours later we were sitting in Starsky's car taking a shift on a stakeout for another detective. I still felt bad about the way I had snapped at Starsky earlier. He was acting like it never happened and was going on about Elizabeth the waitress again. I was trying to listen, but between my headache and my own thoughts I could barely focus.

"She said she's worked there for about 4 months. I can't believe I hadn't noticed her before now! She's somethin' else! Are you even listening, Hutch?" Starsky asked, turning towards me.

"Sure, Starsk. She's real cute, why didn't you notice her, all that," I replied.

"Okay wise guy, if your such a good listener, then where did I say she was from?"

"Uhh...Vermont?" I guessed blindly. Busted. I thought. "South Dakota?" I tried again. Starsky narrowed his eyes at me.

"Try Nevada. Man, where is your head at these days? It's like you're somewhere else half the time," he said. I sensed concern in his voice which told me this was about more than just where some girl was from. I ran my hand through my hair and sighed.

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired. I'm sorry about earlier too, I shouldn't have been so uptight," I apologized.

"Hutch, I don't care about earlier. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I told you, I'm just tired."

"You expect me to buy that? Is it a family thing?" he asked. I knew he meant well, but this was not the time nor the place I wanted to have a heart to heart. My head was killing me, and I wished he would just leave me alone. I didn't want to talk. There was nothing to talk about anyway.

"No, my family is fine and so am I. Why can't you just drop it? Stop interrogating me and pay attention to the job for once!" I snapped. He gave me a look of hurt, mixed with worry and anger. I looked away. I hated it when he looked at me like that. He was my partner, but I couldn't tell him what my deal was. I didn't even know what my deal was. I knew I'd been distracted lately and that I wasn't exactly the most fun to be around, but I figured it would pass eventually. I just needed to get more sleep and stop analyzing everything to death. Unfortunately, that was a lot easier said than done.

Thanks for reading, hopefully you enjoyed it! The next chapter will have a bit more action and a whole lot of angst. Be sure to leave a review, I love reading feedback!