NO TIME FOR TEARS

MIND CONTROL

This is the pre-sequel to Tortured Minds. How did the men who took Starsky turn him into the man he was when Hutch found him in Viet Nam? WARNING: some graphic scenes of abuse: physical, emotional, psychological and sexual. There is also a lot of strong language. If any of these topics offend you, please note any warnings accompanying individual chapters.

Beta Read by Megan

CHAPTER ONE

"STARSKY! WAIT!" Hutch yelled as he ran into the hallway after his distraught partner. He glanced down the corridor in time to see the elevator doors sliding shut. He knew that he would never make it down the stairs in time to catch him before Starsky made it out of the building. Ignoring the curious glances of the other people in the hallway, Hutch leaned heavily against the wall and covered his face with his hand to get a handle on his own wavering emotions.

After almost eleven months of hell, struggling to recover from the injuries he had received in a shooting in the Police Department parking lot, Starsky had just heard the verdict from the review board concerning his future with the Bay City P.D. According to the reports submitted by his various physicians, Starsky would never be fit enough to return to active duty as an undercover police detective working the streets of the inner city. He was being retired from the force on permanent disability.

Hutch still couldn't believe it. Starsky was in better physical condition now than he had been since the academy. He still had some healing to do but his spirit and his determination were still intact. Even when the odds had seemed insurmountable, even when he was in so much pain that he broke down and cried, Starsky had kept one goal and one goal only in mind. The day he could return to the streets with Hutch at his side. Now that dream had been taken away from him without any room for discussion. The most damning medical report had been the one from his cardiologist and his pulmonary surgeon, who both stated, in no uncertain terms, that the brunet had suffered permanent damage to his heart and his left lung from the shooting that would prevent him from being able to handle the physical demands of the job.

Hutch made his way to the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. Although he had driven them to the Federal building that morning, Hutch doubted if he would find Starsky waiting for him in the parking lot. The brunet had been too upset when he stormed out of the conference room. He would find a quiet place where he could be alone to lick his wounds. With heavy steps, Hutch left the building and slowly trudged to the lot where he had parked his car. Climbing behind the wheel, he slowly drove back to the little beachside cottage he had shared with Starsky for the past nine months, ever since Starsky was discharged from the hospital, two months after almost dying on the cold hard pavement of the parking garage.

Hutch had used some money from a trust fund his grandfather had left him to buy the cottage. Both men had apartments that were up a long flight of stairs and the doctors had made it clear that Starsky would not be able to walk up and down steps for quite some time. Hutch had notified both landlords and enlisted the help of their friends to move their belongings to the beach while Starsky was still in the hospital. The one story cottage was perfect for Starsky's needs. The rooms were large and open with handrails installed in the bathroom and hallways. The cottage had been designed by a man whose wife was confined to a wheelchair and had been built to accommodate her needs. After following the story surrounding Starsky's shooting and recovery in the newspaper, the man had contacted Hutch and offered to sell him the cottage at a ridiculously low price. His wife had recently passed away and he wanted it to go to someone who would appreciate the love that had gone into building it. When Hutch saw it for the first time, he knew that it was the perfect place for the severely injured Starsky to finish his recovery. He had written a check for the initial down payment on the spot.

In the beginning, Starsky was still too weak to do anything for himself. He required twenty-four hour a day care for even his most basic needs. Even though the department's medical insurance would have paid for a full time nurse to come in and care for him, Hutch refused to allow anyone to care for his partner except for himself. In the beginning, it was awkward and embarrassing for both of them for Hutch to have to be the one bathing Starsky and taking him to the bathroom, sometimes even giving him enemas to help with his sluggish bowels. But they had managed and as a result, they had become even closer than they were before. Me and thee had become us and they had built a home together in their little retreat on the beach.

Before the shooting, rumors had floated around the department for years that they were more than just 'friends' because of the unique closeness of their relationship. Neither one of them had ever let the rumors bother them. Their closest friends knew the truth. They were both red blooded, heterosexuals with an active sex life. After the shooting, nobody batted an eye when the two of them moved in together. Their colleagues and friends quickly discounted any lingering rumors about their relationship. They had all seen first hand how devastated Hutch had been by the shooting and how devoted and loyal he was to his best friend. More than a few of their peers had volunteered their opinion that if Starsky had died, Hutch would have died too.

It was that same devotion and loyalty, combined with the unique bond they shared, that enabled the big blond to feel Starsky's pain at the review board's decision as if it were his own because his own pain mirrored that of his partner completely. With the scrawl of a pen, the legendary team of Starsky and Hutch no longer existed, at least not in the police department's eyes. They would always be best friends, nothing would ever change that, but their professional partnership was over along with Starsky's career.

Hutch knew better than anyone how hard that would be for Starsky to accept. All he had ever wanted to do was to be was a cop like his father. And he had been one of the best cops the department had ever seen. Along with Hutch, the two friends had earned the respect of not only their peers but the snitches, hookers and other street people they came into contact with every day. They had gained the reputation of being tough and hard nosed but fair and honest. Hutch had returned to work six weeks ago, working part time behind a desk because he had refused to work the streets without Starsky.

Starsky had already suffered through his share of depression since the shooting and this could be the final straw, the one that even the resilient brunet wouldn't be able to bounce back from. And that scared Hutch more than anything else. He didn't want Starsky to give up, to have his spirit broken beyond repair, after everything he had already had to endure.

When Hutch finally arrived at the cottage, he was relieved to see Starsky sitting at the edge of the beach behind the house, staring out at the ocean. The big blond approached him with caution, not wanting to startle the brunet unnecessarily. "Hey, buddy…" Hutch said quietly, as he sank down on the sand beside him. "You okay?"

Starsky remained silent, staring out at the water with an unreadable expression in his deep sapphire eyes. His posture was tense and stiff, a clear indication to Hutch that he was still holding his pain deep inside, refusing to let it surface. Hutch sighed and clasped Starsky's shoulder in a gesture of friendship and compassion. He would have done anything if it were within his power to take away Starsky's pain and ease his suffering. All he could do was wait for Starsky to open up and share his feelings and thoughts with him. Then maybe together, they could find a way to help him deal with the news. They sat there for almost an hour, neither of them speaking, just taking comfort from being together.

"It's not fair." Starsky finally said in a forlorn voice that tore at the sensitive blond's heart. "How could they do that? They won't even give me a chance to prove the doctors are wrong." There was a hard edge of bitterness in Starsky's voice that Hutch could sympathize with.

"You could appeal the decision." Hutch suggested helpfully. "Force them to let you try to re-qualify in a few months. You could see other specialists; get a second opinion about the damage to your heart and lungs."

"What's the use?" Starsky asked in a defeated voice that Hutch had seldom heard him use. "They'll just find another reason to keep me from coming back." He turned to face Hutch, his eyes filled with so much pain it was almost overwhelming. "Face it, Hutch. I'm finished…washed up…I'll never be the man I used to be."

"Don't say that!" Hutch said, a bit more sharply then he intended to. "You can't give up! Not now! You've worked your ass off to get this far and I think you can still prove them wrong and make them stuff their decision up their ass!"

"That's easy for you to say, Blondie." Starsky said with a sad little smile as he slowly shoved himself to his feet. His face twisted with a grimace of pain as still recovering muscles protested the long time he had spent sitting in one position. "You're not the one that had your body ripped apart and then put back together with baling wire and duct tape! You're not the one who has to live everyday with the things you can't do anymore and probably never will again!"

Hutch bounced to his feet and fell in step with Starsky as he started back to the cottage. He wisely chose to ignore the cutting remarks that held too much of a ring of truth for them both. He slung his arm around Starsky's too thin shoulders and said,

"Let's get you something eat and your meds. Then you can take a nap. It's been a long day already and you're exhausted." He knew the words were the wrong thing to say as soon as they were out of his mouth.

Starsky pulled away from his embrace with a growl and glared at Hutch angrily. "STOP TREATING ME LIKE A FUCKING INVALID!" he snarled "I can take my own meds and fix myself something to eat! And I don't have to take a nap if I don't want to!"

He stomped away as fast as his body would allow, his back rigid with that stubborn pride that Hutch knew so well.

Hutch sighed heavily and followed at a slower pace. He knew when to push Starsky and when to back off and let him work things out for himself. And this was one of those times that he needed to back off. After so many months of being Starsky's sole caretaker, holding him while he puked, cleaning up after him when he had an accident, and just cuddling him when the pain became too much for him to handle and he needed to cry, had left the big blond fiercely protective of the brunet. It was impossible for him to just let go. He knew that there were times when Starsky resented Hutch's attention and felt smothered. He had made that increasingly clear over the past few weeks as he struggled to reassert his independence. Hutch vowed to be there to pick up the pieces left over from this latest crisis if and when Starsky needed him to.