I don't own the guys…

Just love spending time with them.

This is a sequel to 'The Precious Possessions'.

A character reference to episode 'Manchild on the streets.'

Some possessions that are dearest to our hearts are the ones that are naked to the eye. In return, they are the ones that possess our own heart and soul.

THE UNSEEN POSSESSIONS

By Pegbronco

'He may or may not be dead, but either way, he'll wish he was. There's nothing you can do about it,' the voice slowly broke through the darkness.

'Nothing you can do about it.' It bounced around him. The voice was getting stronger. The demon then lashed out at him, clawing at his skin.

'Nothinggg… yooouuu… can do about it,' it laughed at him.

'The hell there's not. You leave him the hell alone!' His voice was hoarse. The air around him was bitter cold, biting at his skin. His breath hung thick in the air around him.

'Welcome to my Hell, boy. You're mine now, just as he's mine too,' the voice informed him.

The black curtain of air in front of him slowly swayed to and fro. Suddenly he felt the floor dropping out from under him. The sickly feeling of falling was turned his stomach. He dropped deeper into the murky depth below him. A gray fog rolled below him and then raising up to him, reaching up to pull him down into it's depths. Everything slowly twirled around him as his body dropped ever so deeper.

'Him being family and all,' the mocking voice said. 'Fammillyyyy…' The laughter got louder.

Hidden in the fog, screams of pain erupted, it was Hutch's pain. The voice took pleasure in the pain ridden voice, and it roared louder.

He tried to run towards the sounds of his partner in distress. The fog never letting him go.

'Where you going cop? We're just starting to have fun with you.'

'I'm coming Hutch. Please buddy, hold on. I know that you're hurt. I'm almost there. I just have to take care of this guy first.'

I hear him. I can feel him coming at me.

'I know you're there in the dark, I can feel you, you sonofabitch. You're good, but not good enough. I feel the air. I know your there.'

The tall obscured figure appeared before him in the dark. 'Your boyfriend sure was a fun toy to play with. Bled him like the fag pig that he is.' It smiled at him through the fog.

He tried to lash out at the figure, but it just disappeared into the fog.

'Bleeeed himmm…' It mocked him mercilessly.

'Hutch I'm coming for you. I'm almost there.'

'You're too late. That pretty blond fag sure was fun. Now it's your turn.'

He forced himself to open his eyes. As he did, he found himself sitting on a dirt floor, alone. The ground felt wet. Through the dim light, he looked down at his hands. Red. Blood dripped from his fingers. The red blood of his partner flooded the ground around him.

'Bleeeed that fag pig…' The voice roared out at him. He looked up. There was a wave of crimson rolling towards him. The creature had held him captive.

'NOOOO…HUUUTTCH!'

He quickly closed his eyes, and then opened them slowly. Again he found himself on a dirt floor, this time his hands bound behind himself. The air around him was thick with steaming hot moisture. Off in the short distance, the sounds of nature were rolling in waves in all directions. It was almost deafening. He looked up and found himself looking at wooden bars. Beyond that, was the War.

The jungle of his past had crept in. He heard the agonizing cries of his buddies that were slowly being tortured. He turned, he eyed his sergeant. He was reaching out to him with bloody hands. Half his face was missing. There was nothing but a gaping hole full of pulp on one side. The other half of his face, held out in his hands. He was begging for help. Starsky gasped and had to look away. His eyes then caught sight of one of the young soldiers. He sat bloodless-white against the wall. His naked body carved up with knife wounds. The blood had pooled around his body in the dirt. Starsky turned away, his chest heaving. His breath quickened.

'No more. Please…no more.' He begged of himself.

His eyes closed tight again, he took in a quick breath.

'Wake up. Damn it…please…wake up!' He again begged of himself. He opened his eyes again to the blackness of the mine. He could feel the ice cold, damp air smothering him. It was thick with death. The smell of dirt and blood he inhaled, chocked him. It was hard to breath. He gasped as his lungs panicked from the loss of air.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky nearly fell off the couch as he struggled with the nightmare. His heart hammered against his chest. His lungs quickly inhaling air, as if he had just ran a marathon. Beads of sweat plastered the dark curls against his forehead. The grip he had on the pillow that he held against his chest turned his knuckles white. The blanket that had once covered him was now a tangled mess around his legs. The sheet under him, soaked from a cold sweat.

Three weeks and Starsky was still having problems with the kidnapping of his partner and himself. The nightmares were still rocking his nights on occasion, some more violent then others. Tonight was the worst.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Three weeks earlier, Starsky's younger brother Nick had, in a round-about way, set up the kidnapping of his own brother and his partner. Nick, being jealous of his older brother's relationship with his partner over the one he felt David should have with him, had mentioned the disapproved relationship to a couple of his acquaintances.

They took it upon themselves to stake out the two detectives, waiting for a suitable time to arise and to snatch the two cops. But there were strict instructions that Detective Starsky wasn't to be harmed…much, but Hutchinson was open game. The fate of the big blond was of no concern for the younger Starsky.

Nick, having had witnessed the close and untouchable relationship that the big blond had with his older brother just infuriated him. Nick took the light bantering and touches that were shown unconsciously and naturally between the blond and his brother, as a misguided sign that Hutch was gay. Without really knowing the tight relationship between the two partners, Nick allowed his mind to take those signs and let it feed his anger towards Hutch.

To see who had the better driver and car, Captain Dobey, Hutch and the LAPD's Captain Walker, decided to set up a match between Starsky in the Gran Torino, and Captain Walker's detective Phil Hansen, in his Javelin. They set up the race at the West Coast Wheel's Drag Strip, a couple hours outside of town on Starsky's Birthday. It was a surprise for the dark haired detective. One that Hutch had successfully kept secret from his partner for two weeks.

The men Nick had complained to took that opportunity for the kidnapping. One of the men, Michaels, an ex Special Forces, savagely and brutally beat Hutch, leaving the blond fighting for his life. Starsky was able to quickly get to him before Death did. With a quick search and rescue from the L.A. detective Hansen, and the love and care from Starsky, Hutch survived.

Nick Starsky had, whilst visiting his brother in the hospital, inadvertently allowed some of the kidnapping to spill out. Nick was escorted out of the hospital and booked. With some strings pulled, he was briskly arraigned and sent to New York to serve his time. Getting him out of Bay City would be the best for all those involved.

David Starsky was left to try and sort out how his brother could so savagely being a part of this event. He was left with more questions on how he had failed his brother, and how Nick could turn out the way he did.

Growing up on the tough streets of New York, the Starsky brothers were close. David Starsky having taken the role of the big brother and was looking after his little brother. But when the murder of their father occurred and the streets grew more and more dangerous, David Starsky was moved out of harm's way and sent to California to finish growing up in a more desirable environment. Nick was left behind to survive the streets on his own.

The seedier side of the streets had reached out and took hold of the younger Starsky. The promise of the all mighty dollar was planted and greed grew. He got caught up with the unrealistic world of how to become rich quick. He would do any quick job even break the law to get what he wanted. He was employed by some of New York's shadier crime bosses.

Through his eyes, Nick viewed his older brother as having had abandoned him. He felt that David had every opportunity to come back to New York where he belonged, but the big Midwesterner named Hutchinson had soiled his brother's mind and had convinced him to stay on the west coast. Nick Starsky let that thought fester in his twisted mind until he felt that it would be up to himself to get his brother back East. He wanted his brother back but didn't exactly want to get his hands dirty doing it.

Now Nick Starsky was sitting in a New York jail and his older brother still on the West coast. David Starsky now bonded even closer to his partner, and emotionally further from his own brother.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Though Starsky claimed that Hutch still needed a helping hand getting around, it was more his own need for his friend's company. The horrific event etched deep into the recesses of his mind. It joined that of his father's murder and of being a prisoner of war. And the hellacious things that he had witnessed on the job as a homicide detective didn't even compare to seeing his own partner strung up like a piece of meat at a packing plant, beaten and tortured. Not only that he almost lost his best friend and partner, but the brutality that Hutch was exposed to was diabolic. Hutch's suffering was what burned him down to his core. It was the pain that Hutch was enduring, that broke his heart.

Starsky was ever vigilant on living for the moment. Though there are times when the toilet bowl of the life they lived, stirred up the past, and the nights became venomous. Those nights, his subconscious would allow that file that held his past to fall open and some of those contents would rock his nights. The beasts of days past would strike out and opening old wounds that he thought to have been closed and healed.

For Starsky, just the presence of his partner in the next room, could help ease his mind enough to allow him to sleep. The unseen protection from his partner put a veil around his mind. The demons of his nightmares had no power of that which Hutch possessed. Hutch is his White Knight, his shelter that would protect him, his rock. He is the guardian of the breath that he took. In short Hutch was his life force, in the conscious world and in the world of dreams.

For the past three weeks though, even with Hutch close at his side with that unseen protection, the sight of Hutch's hanging bloodied body, was still too real and too fresh. He would at times get apprehensive about turning in for the night, afraid of the possibility of what could happen. Though he tried not to show it, Hutch took notice of that slight alarm, and those were the nights that Hutch shared the bed with him, giving him the calm, soothing reassurance that he needed. Tonight, Starsky had opted for the couch.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Tonight was one that tore Hutch's heart apart. He could hear the fight with the un-relinquishing nightmare that had gripped his friend's mind. The soft moans of distress floated across the small apartment to Hutch. Now at his side, Hutch wanted to release Starsky from the strangling hold that it had on him. Hutch had limped his way to the couch and sat on the edge by his side. His friends anguish overrode his own pains.

"Sshhh, babe. Let it go Starsk," Hutch's voice soft but with a slight demand in his tone.

He placed his left hand on the curly haired chest and tenderly pressed down and rubbed small circles. The chest under his hand was hot and moist from the perspiration, a result from the unseen fight.

He reached out with his right hand and lovingly wiped away the trail of salted moisture that streamed down the side of his face from his eye. The moisture was lightly glistening in the low light falling in from the bedroom. The tears from the unseen anguish had escaped to the physical world.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

'The homo out there has poisoned your mind.'

'Bled him like the fag pig that he is. Bled him…bled him…,' the nightmarish beast sneered at him over and over again. The voice ricocheted around his head.

'Nooo…Hutch.' He let out a soft whimper of despair.

The lifeless, tortured body of his friend was now laid across his lap. The blood drained from his beaten and almost unrecognizable body, and now pooled around the brunet.

'Please… for God's sake Hutch…don't do this to me.' Starsky begged his friend as he struggled in his nightmare.

'He's of no concern for you now. Bled him.' The voice came from all directions. It swirled around him.

'Huuutttch!' He held tight to the body of his dead partner. Tears ran down his face as the world around him swirled out of control. A veil of red whirled around his face. There mixed into the red, was the image of Hutch's face.

'Why Starsky? WHY?' Hutch's image slowly started to fade into the nothingness that now surrounded him. Starsky's heart broke. His brother was the cause for his friend's death.

'Family.'

'HUTCH! Ohgod…Hutch, please don't leave me. Please come back! Don't leave!' His heart frenzied over the sudden emptiness and departure of his beloved friend. He desperately searched for his missing friend.

The laughter roared out louder and louder, taking pleasure in the brunet's agony and despair. The demon of his nightmare held onto him.

Off in the black abyss in a distance that seemed too far to reach, the soft sound of the voice that he knew broke through. His salvation, it pulled at him, calling for him to return. It was reaching in and slowly piercing through the hell that he was twisted in. He tried to reach for it. The creatures of evil that had dragged him through the night's horror, grabbed out to him, their claws digging deep into his flesh, ripping at him. His chest heaved as they tried to rip it open. His heart pounded frantically as he ran faster to the salvation of the voice. The monsters were desperately lashing out, trying to hold onto him. They knew that once the voice broke through, that their hold on him would cease. This night's battle was now over.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Hutch reached over with his right hand and threaded his long fingers through damp, dark chocolate curls. He slowly caressed the scalp of the brunet, trying to help Starsky to let go of the nightmare and relax, while his left hand trying to still the heated body underneath it.

"Buddy, wake up for me."

On most occasions the tender touch from the blond would calm the brunet instantly. The calming, soft hypnotic voice from Hutch would instantly lull him into a calmer slumber. But tonight, even Hutch found himself fighting the relentless nightmare. The dark haired man continued to thrash.

"Starsky…you're alright. Come on buddy, wake up and look at me," his voice now with more urgency in its tone.

Starsky suddenly stilled and looked up wild eyed his breath catching and void. Hutch gently placed his left hand on the side of the brunet's face, turning it so his eyes would meet his own. Sapphire latched onto lake blue. Beads of sweat fell from his brow. Hutch brushed wet clinging curls from his forehead. There was a sudden desperate gasp as the brunet sucked in much needed air, as his lungs remembered that oxygen was necessary for life.

"Look at me, it's over. Alright …it's over. You're OK…I'm OK," reassuring him. Looking down at dark blue eyes a storm still raging in them, but it was slowly smoothing out. As the storm was calming, Hutch slowly brushed his left thumb back and forth across the brunet's temple.

"Hutch?" He coughed out while his lungs and heart tried to regain their normalcy. The fight with the nightmare left him breathless. His heart was hammering against his chest. He felt like his body was on fire, but ice cold at the same time.

"Yeah buddy…it's me." Hutch's left hand went back to the curly haired chest and continuing soft massage, soothing the chest that held the heart that he was bonded to. Even though he couldn't see or touch that spirited heart, he would do everything in his power to protect it from harm, even from the unseen evils that came in the night.

Starsky let go of the pillow that he was strangling and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake ya."

"I know, but what are friends for? I'm here to chase the bad guys away from you." He took hold of Starsky's hand and held it. The tender touch craved from both men at this moment. The need to comfort, and the need to be comforted, entangled.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Touch was a connection between them that spoke of a world of trust and reassurance. And that trust welded their souls and hearts into one strong and powerful entity. It's an entity that powered over all else. They instinctively knew when the other is in need for that connection and recoup that reassurance. Both men would lavish the other with it in time of the others' need. There were the times they would crave that connection. The ugly side of their job and life would bring to focus that craving for that softer side of their relationship.

With the touches though, came the controversy among the other officers and the public, but they learned early to not take notice or even care. There had even been times that they played it up in front of a couple of the officers that thought that their relationship went beyond normal. There was a tight squeeze around the waist or quick peck on the check, all just to get a rise out of them. It was all in fun for them.

They knew in their hearts that two heterosexual men could have a physical relationship and it not be sexual. And with both of the men tripping over their heartstrings when it came to the female persuasion, there was no sexual intent towards each other. They just had a connection that was indescribable and only they were privy to. That soft, tender side reserved only for themselves. In and out of public eye, they connected on a level that very few will ever experience in a life time.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"Hutch…I just keep having the same nightmare. Seeing you hanging there, Ken…I'm so sorry that I couldn't get to you sooner. I…should have been able to keep you from getting hurt," his voice was catching with emotions. "My world almost shattered that night Hutch. If you had…I…" He looked up at the man that possessed his inner self. His love for his partner and the need to protect him, consumed him at times, and the thought that he wasn't able to get to Hutch before he was tortured, ate at his soul. His stomach started to churn.

The sting of guilt he harbored over the fact that his own brother had orchestrated the whole malicious event, twisted his stomach. A wave of nausea tried to work its way up. He did his best to battle it down. The last thing Hutch needed to see was him puking his guts over the fact that his own flesh and blood had basically wanted his best friend dead.

Hutch was closer then his own brother. Closer then anyone would ever get to his soul. He closed his eyes and squeezed the blonds' hand harder. He opened them again to see the look of pure love emanating from the blue eyes that belonged to his wonderful friend.

"Aww Starsk…you and I both know that wasn't possible at the time. Look I'm going to be fine. You're going to be fine. OK? And right now it's 1:30 in the morning and we both have a long day in front of us. Let's say we go to bed and try for a couple more hours of sleep. The love affair with my couch is over for tonight." He raised a brow and reached over and wiped more beads of moisture off the brunet's forehead. His hand caressed down his friend's cheek, softly cupping it. His thumb brushed away a bead of moisture that tried to flow down the brunet's face.

"K'. But it's far from a love affair with this lumpy couch of yours." Starsky patted Hutch on the arm and sat up on the couch, coughing and still trying to get his breathing under control.

Hutch stiffly shifted his weight onto the edge of the couch so that Starsky could get up. Starsky stood, turned and offered his arm to his partner. Hutch took his arm and pulled himself up. Using Starsky for support, they slowly walked to the bedroom.

'He is of no concern of yours anymore.' The voice from the nightmare lingered in his head.

'Yes, he is a concern of mine. And that will never change.' He thought to himself.

'Family,' it whispered at him.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

As Starsky got Hutch parked next to the bed, his stomach again rolled. This time more violently. There was no chance holding it down this time. The guilt was getting stronger.

"Need a shower." Hoping that would excuse his sudden departure. He turned and raced to the bathroom. He was able to get the water running in the tub for a cover up before his stomach reversed. At the last possible second, he flung open the lid to the toilet and retched into the bowl. His head spun slightly. His stomach again forced a gagging noise from him.

He dropped to his knees. Damn you Nick. Why him? The guilt again twisted his guts. This time there was nothing left to exit, but his stomach still tried to find something to throw up.

He suddenly felt strong hands on his back and shoulders. "Easy…. it's alright." The soft soothing voice floated over his shoulder. A soft but secure hand gently held his shoulder while the other pressed small penetrating circles on his back. He closed his eyes to the touch. It went straight to his heart. A small dry heave came up. But the guilt slowly subsided.

Sensing that his stomach had quieted, he settled against the side of the cool tub. His red face glistened with perspiration. Hutch leaned over and took a facecloth from the side of the tub, ran it under the running water, then lovingly wiped his face and mouth. He shut the lid of the toilet then flushed it. He sat down on it, never letting his eyes off his friend.

"Starsk…?" He softly asked as his nerves unraveled slightly from the sudden sickness of his friend. But deep down, he knew why. Starsky could do guilt trips just as well as himself.

Starsky could self inflict pain onto himself over something that was totally out of his control, it happened rarely, but took its toil when he did.

"Just a bad bit of dinner I guess." The lie didn't get very far.

"Sure, alright." Hutch looked him in the eye and knew that the lie was a cover, but he wasn't going to press the subject. "You think you can make it in the shower now?"

"Yeah. I'm alright now." He slowly stood, stripped out of his pajama bottoms and stepped into the tub and turned the knob for the showerhead.

Hutch continued to sit where he was until his friend was finished. It was mainly for his peace of mind. He just wanted to make sure that his dark haired friend's emotional state was back on firm ground, even if it was a silent one right at this moment.

Starsky got done a short time later and again they slowly made their way to the bedroom.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

The early spring moonlight brightened up the room with its nightly glow. It was just too much light for Starsky. How Hutch could sleep with the moonlight blinding him, he just couldn't understand. Starsky went to the window and closed out the world as he pulled the blinds shut. Long dark shadows were cast from the small lamp on the night stand next to Hutch. Hutch reached down and switch off the light. The room went to dull blacks and grays. A soft bronze crept around the edges of the blinds. The moon was still trying to invade the room, reaching in for the brunet.

Hutch lay down and arranged his extra pillows that he was using, while Starsky was at the far side. Too many times that they had shared a bed in a time of need, they knew which side of the bed the other preferred. Starsky lay down and reached for the covers that were balled up at the foot of the bed, the evidence that Hutch too, was having problems sleeping that night. He straightened them out and fluffed them up, the sheet and cover then falling comfortable over both of them.

Starsky snuggled towards Hutch and nuzzled close into his neck. Hutch moved one of the pillows out of the way and reached around him and drew him in closer. At this time, the need for the physical contact was more important then the softness of the pillow.

"Hutch?"

"Hmm?"

"How'd I get to have you as my best friend?"

"You want the long version or the abbreviated?"

"Short."

"Because you're just lucky pal. You know I don't share my bed or life with just any curly haired brunet."

"'Nite Hutch."

"Goodnight Starsk."

Hutch's hand rested on the soft, curly haired chest. He could feel the rise and fall of his friend's chest. It took time, but that rough rhythm from the earlier nightmare soon smoothed out as Starsky slowly allowed himself to relax back to the world that dreams come from. This time, the demons of the past stayed quiet. With his knight now close on guard, they kept their claws to themselves and allowed him some peace. The files stayed closed.

S/H++S/H++S/H+++S/H

Tuesday 8am, found the pair quietly eating breakfast. Hutch had managed, if not awkwardly balancing with the crutches, to cook eggs and whole wheat toast, and fixed juice for them.

Over the last year or so, Hutch had let himself go ever so slightly. He hadn't been eating as healthy as he should. Having a junk-food junkie for a partner didn't help either. He was still running but just not as fast or as often as he should. The health sake of Hutch's that would turn Starsky's stomach…goats milk, molasses, desiccated liver and the sort, had been pushed aside months ago for a simple glass of orange juice.

Hutch kept telling himself that he should get back to those times. But as he got older, and the job aged him quicker then expected, he wanted life to be simpler. He tired quicker and just didn't have all the desires that he once had. At thirty four, he started to feel older then he should.

Starsky too, had seen the effects that their job has had on his partner. The long stakeouts in the Torino would leave Hutch's long legs cramped up at times. The leg chases after the city's low-lives, at times would leave his long back in knots at the end of the day. Those were the days that Starsky would stay the night and work out the knots that twisted Hutch up and had him in pain.

Starsky had had the conversation with him on a couple different occasions that he should take the Lieutenant's exam and leave the footwork for the youngsters that were coming up in the department. But Hutch would just get quiet and change the subject. Starsky figures that he didn't want to break up the partnership. As long as he was on the streets, Hutch wasn't about to leave his side. And selfishly, he wouldn't want it any other way either. They were partners to the end.

"You ready for another lovely visit to your therapist? You know, I think she's hot for your body." Starsky smiled through a bite of jellied toast.

"Starsk…the only body that she would be interested in, is some young, chiseled, long haired surfer."

Becky Taylor was fresh out of med school and an avid surfer on her time off. Having grown up on the beaches of Hawaii, she thrived on the thrills of the water. The wispy twenty five year old redhead, was every bit a professional. But she did live on the edge when it came to her time off from the hospital.

"Well, you got that long blond thing going for ya. And you were a water scout boy."

"It was Sea Scouts," he corrected.

"Yeah, well, I think the two of you would make a cute couple." He said smiling at his partner.

"Starsky, I'm about ten years older then her." His eyes went down to his plate. "Plus she's not interested in some old, beat up cop," he said softly, while pushing around a small bit of egg on his plate. A little bit of self loathing showed. He lifted his head slightly, a small glance to his partner sent out the message that he was still hurting, not just physically, but emotionally too. Starsky took notice and a small wink at him, told Hutch that he got the message, and that he was going to be OK.

"Anyways, I'm already in a committed relationship," Hutch added on while looking back down at his half eaten breakfast.

"Oh…and just who would that be with? You have someone that I don't know about? Someone you've been hiding from me? Hmmm?" Starsky raised his brows at his partner as he reached for his juice.

"Yeah, someone with curly brunet hair, blue eyes, and a morning shadow," said while looking up at his partner with a glint of content in his smile and eyes.

"A what?" Starsky choked out while trying to drain the last of his juice.

"Never mind."

Starsky got up to take their dishes to the sink. He took notice that, again Hutch hadn't eaten much. For the past three weeks, Hutch had eaten little, resulting in the loss of about ten pounds, pounds that the blond really didn't need to loose, at least not this way or time. His body was in need of the calories to help heal it's self. He had a slight ashen and gauntness to his cheeks and face. It may not be noticeable to others, but to Starsky it was a neon sign. Hutch was still far from healed.

Starsky knew that mostly the loss of apatite was due to the pain medication, but Hutch hadn't been taking them as he should, so his appetite should have returned. Starsky made a mental note, sighed internally, and reached for his friend's plate.

Hutch reached out stroking his palm over the dark haired man's stubble. "You are going to shave before we head out?" Hutch asked before Starsky grabbed his plate from him.

"Don't forget you have your appointment with the departmental doc." Hutch reminded his partner.

"You know, you can be such a killjoy sometimes Hutchinson."

"Oh? How's that?"

"You and I both know that that man has serious issues with me. I don't think he likes me."

"Aw Starsk...now, now…"

"Well how was I supposed to know that Rene Coblin was his niece? Not my fault that she drank to much and threw up on the Ferris wheel at the amusement park. 'Sides it was only one date, and a year ago."

"The Starsky charm just didn't work on her, buddy."

"Hmmph." Starsky turned to wash dishes.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Hutch sat back in the chair and watched his partner cleaning up the dishes. For a man that walked around in tattered jeans, half tee shirts, and old sneakers, Starsky was meticulous about a clean car and apartment. And he had let that tidiness overflow while he took over care duties at Venice Place. Starsky had been his constant companion for the past three weeks. He was a twenty four hour watchdog and nurse maid. Starsky would mother-hen him just as much as he would have cared for the brunet.

It wasn't that he needed a babysitter. He was slowly getting to the point where he could maneuver around with little help. He knew that Starsky would gradually leave his side for his own apartment, but right now it warmed his heart to have his friend by his side. He still needed him to help with the nursing of his physical wounds, but mostly he needed him emotionally. Those wounds still bled, and are the hardest to heal.

Right now, having Starsky around, kept the fiendish voices of Michaels and Nick Starsky at bay most the times. Hutch knew, in his heart that the things that Michaels and Starsky's own brother had said, were untrue. As much as he tried though, the voices would unexpectedly creep up on him and stop him in his tracks. He would then just push them back to the dark hole that they escaped from. Though he tried his best to lock them away, there were times he failed, and it took everything Starsky had to help Hutch push through the sudden emotional turmoil, giving him the strength to face it.

The relationship that he and Starsky shared was still intact and no-one, not even Nick Starsky could undermine and destroy it. They had something so unique, that no-one, not even themselves could define it. It's an unearthly bond that their hearts and souls share. Even at Death's door, one wouldn't leave the other, if there was a sliver of a choice. They would fight, for the others' sake. Each knowing the survivor wouldn't make it in the physical world without them. It was a bond that had no boundaries.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

I think I was the lucky one to end up with you as my best friend. Hutch thought to himself just a few hours earlier, as he had soothed his friend. A small smile touched the corners of his mouth.

Hutch pushed the chair back and he slowly hobbled towards the dark haired man that was busy at the sink. He stood behind his friend and reached around his chest and lovingly embraced him.

Starsky suddenly stopped what he was doing, allowing the plate to sink under the suds, and stood and allowed himself to be hugged.

"Thank you David," Hutch told him softly, his cheek pressed against dark, unattended curls.

Starsky knew from the use of his given name, that Hutch wasn't talking about him washing the dishes. It was for something much deeper. He grabbed the dish towel and dried his hands, then covered Hutch's big hands with his own. The two stood in the close embrace quietly. It was a quiet moment to allow their hearts to sigh together. The unseen possession of each others' soul was strong and enduring.

The two partners savored the close contact. Each one of them taking and giving. Each was silently letting the love and deep contentment flow to the other. The air around them filled with this warmth.

Hutch slowly released his hold. Starsky turned around and sea blue eyes met sky blue ones.

"Thanks for not leaving me. You know that I wouldn't have been able to go on without you," he looked from one blue eye to the other. The love he has for the big blond poured from his eyes. A moment of comfortable connection passed between the partners.

"Sides, I can never get all your plant's names straight." Starsky beamed a crooked smile at him.

Hutch snorted. "Well I guess I'm just going to have to write them down for you. Or better yet, bring your camera over and we'll take pictures of them and I'll label them for you. 'Cause you know, Wilma and Jasmine are sensitive to being called by the wrong name."

"Hutchinson, you're a piece of work. Now let's get this day started so we can get over with it." He turned back around, grabbed the last plate from under the suds, swiped the cloth over it and set it with the others.

Starsky dried his hands then walked to the table, retrieved the crutches that leaned on it and handed them to Hutch. The blond took them, and then headed for the bedroom to change and the brunet headed for the bathroom for that shave that had been mentioned.

"Hey, don't get dressed 'til I cream your ass," Starsky stated, remembering the doctors orders.

"For you only buddy, would I drop my drawers," Hutch answered back to him.

Hutch striped down to what Mother Nature gave him, and slowly and carefully plopped stomach down on the old wrought-iron bed. Pulling one of the pillows under his head, he tucked his hands under it, and allowed his eyes to close for a moment. He took in a heavy breath and slowly let it exhale. He took notice of a small tightness of his chest. Probably just a spasm.

Hutch's mind momentarily drifted back to the mine and how his friend had saved him. How he felt safe wrapped up in Starsky's strong arms, being lovingly held. Remembering how his life was slowly slipping away from him. How hard it was to return. As hard as he tried, he felt himself being dragged away from his partner. Then he could feel Starsky's heart reaching out to him, telling him to hold on and to come back. He fought his way back, struggling to free himself from the grip that Death had on him. Only for Starsky would he fight so hard to return, only for the love of his partner. Starsk...

As he grabbed for the bandages, Starsky eyed the bottle of pills that sat on the shelf above the sink. Starsky knew that, even though Hutch hadn't told him, the blond was balking at taking his pain medication. He was prescribed one of the powerful pills every eight hours for the pain. After three weeks, the bottle was still full with only a few pulled from it that he had taken the first couple of days home from the hospital. Hutch would go without and only swallow some Tylenol and suffer through the pain. Starsky knew that since the forced heroin addiction from Forrest, Hutch was scared of narcotics and the addictions that came with some of them. The horrific withdrawal that he went through was something that would stay with them until day's end.

Aw Hutch, why do you put yourself through this? You know I wouldn't let anything like that to happen again. The curly headed man slowly shook his head and sighed softly to himself. He walked to the bedroom.

He stood next to the bed with fresh bandages and antibiotic cream in his hands, looking down at his pale friend's backside. Hutch's skin still had a sickly color to it.

"You know, if the guys at work could only see us now. You butt-naked laid out like that. Me with a tube of cream in my hands. Babe, the guys would talk," Starsky said with a smile. It may not have been the most appropriate thing to say at this time, with the kidnapping centered around it, but the insinuation of a gay relationship between them was always held in fun between them. Years ago they had come accustomed to the light bantering about it between themselves.

Hutch took the light comment in stride. "Stars…kiss it, 'couse I 'uldn't care, so if you're done 'miring my ass, 'lease get on 'ith it. 'm goin' to 'atch a draft 'aying here." Hutch mumbled into the pillow that he laid face down on.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Most the wounds from the torture three weeks earlier were almost healed. Most of the small bruising was gone, or just a slight indications that they were there. The abrasions on his face were gone with just the slightest, almost undetectable indication of the cut on his left check. Only if you were looking for it you would take notice. Long sleeved shirts covered the lingering pink lines around his wrists where he was tied and hung from. His broke rib was also healing as the doctor had expected. The chest wrap was removed four days ago. The knife wounds across his chest were light pink indications that they were there. The stab wound above his left hip was also right on track for healing. But the cut across his right buttocks had developed an infection, even though he was on antibiotics to try to keep that from occurring.

Four days ago, the wound had to be reopened, cleaned out, and sutured for a second time. And a new round of antibiotics was then prescribed. The doctor was worried that it could go septic and invade his bones or even enter his bloodstream. They were told to keep a close eye on it and to report any symptoms that may develop. Chronic fatigue and high fever would be a serious setback.

The powerful blow with the 2x4 board that Michaels used, split the right thigh muscle, leaving a large hematoma that developed. The huge purplish-black, blue, red and yellow hues spread down his leg as gravity pulled the blood from his injured thigh, just under the skin and down his leg. The blow to the right hip was also leaving the same evidence of the torture. The bruising was large and deep. The doctor reassured them that it would take time, but the body would reabsorb the fluids from both wounds. It would just look very ominous for the time being.

His right leg and hip were slowly regaining some mobility from the beating, but he was still having problems lifting the leg and properly placing it down. Gravity did most of that for him. The damaged muscle was still in the healing process. The therapist told him that he was on track with the exercises, but Hutch thought that he should be further along. He was being impatient with himself.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Starsky stood at the edge of the bed, leaned over and carefully tried to remove the bandage on Hutch's right butt cheek that covered the knife wound. As the tape refused to let go of his skin, Hutch inhaled a quick breath, and gripped the bed under him.

"Sorry." Starsky laid his right hand on Hutch's lower back and patted a small peace offering. "One more tug."

With the last pull, the tape let go its grip and the bandage peeled away. The five inch knife wound was still raw, but most of the swelling had gone down and the latest attack of infection seemed to be held at bay. The long row of dark sutures pulled the flesh closed and held tight as the healing progressed.

Starsky ever so gently placed the tip of the tube at one end of the cut and moved it along the wound, leaving a small line of ointment on top of the sutures. He then placed a long clean bandage on top and taped it in place.

While he had Hutch sprawled out, he took that opportunity to look over the rest of the wounds on his back. The small ones on his shoulder blades and along the top of his butt had just about healed. The scabbing was almost gone. They would be unnoticeable once they fully healed. But the five inch knife wound across his ass though, that scar was going to be a reminder forever.

"Come on Blondie, roll over so I can check on the rest of you," the brunet said softly.

"I 'ink I can 'et to 'ose 'mself," the pillow muffled from Hutch.

"Yep. So rollover. Let the doctor get a look at ya."

Hutch took in a deep breath and obliged his partner. He slowly rolled over and laid there with his eyes closed. His right arm draped over his forehead. He let out a heavy sigh. He just wanted the memories of the whole ordeal to fade to the backside of his life, and until the wounds healed, he was still struggling to move forward.

Starsky leaned over, removed the bandage and inspected the stab wound just above his left hip. It was only an inch and a half long, but was three inches deep. Michaels knew were to plunge the knife and how far, so that Hutch would slowly bleed to death. The sutures were close to being ready to be removed. He bandaged it back up.

Starsky finished up with the nursing. Satisfied that he had done all that he could for the time, he let Hutch get up. "Alright, you can get up now." Starsky offered a hand.

"Well thank you Dr. Watson." Hutch grabbed his hand and pulled himself up.

"That's Frankenstein to you." Starsky smiled at him and went back to the bathroom to finish his own needs.

While sitting on the edge of the bed, Hutch slowly got dressed. A pair of jeans replaced the jogging pants that he had opted for around the apartment. Hutch took notice that with the slight weight loss that has occurred, the pair of jeans that had at one time been comfortably snug, though not as tight as Starsky preferred his, but still snug enough to accentuate his own assets, now had a loose fit. He was grateful for that slight extra room for his backside and hip's sake.

He then rummaged through the dresser drawer and found one of their shared shirts. The black turtleneck unfortunately accentuated the slight chalky and unhealthiness of his face even more. Without looking in the mirror, Hutch was unaware that he looked as if death had warmed him over.

Starsky stepped out the bathroom and took notice of Hutch's attire, the paleness of his friend stood out against the dark shirt. Wow…buddy that was the wrong choice.

Concerned that his friend looked like a walking ghost, he decided to see if he could get Hutch to switch to a lighter colored shirt without too much of a fuss. "Hey, I was wondering where that shirt was."

"Well obviously you didn't miss it that much or you would have looked in the drawer where it's been for the last two months."

"Tell you what, let's switch. Since you have your doctor's appointment why don't you wear the light blue button-up, easier to get on and off, then I can get reunited with that one? Hmmm…?" The boyish look that he pulled every now and then to get his way was all over his face.

Hutch gave his scheming partner a hard look. He rolled his eyes. "Starsk…you can be such a kid at times, you know that?" Hutch proceeded to pull the shirt off and handed it over.

"Yep. So can I have your sucker at the Doctor's office too?" Starsky handed the lighter colored shirt to him. It didn't show off the slight fragile look of his partner. That's a lot better buddy. You don't look like you're among the walking dead now.

"And just for the record Starsk…" Hutch stated as he was looked at buttoning up the shirt that was just handed to him, "…you can tell me face to face how bad I look. You don't have to tip-toe around me like I don't know what's going on. You can tell me the truth you know." He looked up and over at his friend.

"OK…Hutch you look terrible. People are going to think that I dug you up from some graveyard."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." With a more serious look to his attentive partner, "I know that you're worried about me, and want what's best. I guess I just need more time." He reached over and gave the brunet a squeeze on the elbow.

Starsky just smiled back. "I just want you better pal. No matter how long it takes, I just want you to start feeling better. You're all that matters to me right now."

While looking deep into those sapphire eyes that could light up his darkest days, "you can have the sucker only if it's a green one. I don't care for the green ones." Hutch smiled at him.

"'K," Starsky did a quick turn to find his shoes.

Hutch positioned the crutches under his arms and started for the living room. He stopped and eyed his revolver hanging in its holster. It's just to the office and to the hospital for Dr. appointments. He's by my side. He'll have his with him. Hutch hesitated then left it. Wearing the small canon while using the crutches was just too cumbersome.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

The two slowly made their way down to the car. The crutches that Hutch was hoping to get rid of by the end of the day were making the descent down the staircase impossible, so he handed them to Starsky. Holding onto the handrail and Starsky on his other side, they slowly made their way down the stairs.

They made it to the sidewalk and the gleaming red and white car sat directly out front waiting. Hutch's tired LTD was parked around in the back alley for now. The Torino had been released after the investigation was finished, and had been repaired with the new rear window in place. Merle again, did a good job on quickly getting the repairs done so that Starsky could have his baby back. Merle knew that Starskys' worries would be on his partner, and the last thing he needed was to worry about his car.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

10am, and the pair was slowly making their way around headquarters.

"I'll be right back. Goin' to make it quick. I'll meet ya up in the squad room." Starsky bid Hutch good-by and was going to quickly check in with the departmental doctor. He groaned all the way down the hall. Hutch stood and smiled at him as the brunet quickly sprinted around the corner.

Hutch slowly started making his way up to the squad room when Simmons and Baker stopped him. They were on their way to the squad room themselves, and asked how he was coming along. Hutch gave them a short edited run down on his condition, and then slowly continued down the hall towards the elevators. Minnie then stopped him.

"Well if it isn't one of my favorite detectives. How are you doing my dear?" She reached out to his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm ready to come back to work."

"Honey, you look like you need a long vacation. That partner of yours needs to take you out to a tropical island and nurse you back to health." Her concern for him showed. She could see that he had lost a little weight and his face showed a small waxen look, not the slightly tan complexion that he usually wore.

"Well Minnie, he's doing the best he can."

"Well, you two are in my prayers. Make sure your eating good and moving around when you can. Got to run. It's so nice to see you up and around." Minnie smiled up to the tall detective. Then turned and continued her way down the corridor.

Hutch slowly continued through the halls. Well wishes came from all different directions. He progress was slowed to a slug's pace.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Starsky had been keeping up with his arm exercises at home. The knife wound from Michaels in the mine was healing to a long pink line on the outside, the sutures removed a few days earlier. But still not all the mobility in the tendon had returned.

The departmental doctor told him that he was going to give him a few more days before he cleared him enough to push a pencil. He would have to be cleared from the gun range before he was going to put him back on the streets. Starsky, in shock, tried to argue back at the fact that he was left handed and the problem was in his right arm.

The doctor just silently sat there, wrote some notes and glared up as if asking, 'why are you still sitting in my office?' Starsky glared back, stood and left the office in a huff.

"Fine. It'll give me more time to take care of Hutch anyways," he mumbled to himself as he quickly sprinted down the hall to the stairwell.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Starsky barged into Captain Dobey's office. The large black man was sitting in his chair fuming over a file.

"Capt'n," Starsky stated as he slightly paced the floor. He needed to check in with his superior officer and then get back to his partner's side where he belongs. He knew that Hutch would be stumbling around the precinct somewhere, and he just wanted to get back to him.

"Well, you going to stand there and waist my time, or tell me what the doc said?"

"He's a quack," he quickly stated, pacing back and forth.

"Starsky, get to the point," Dobey grumbled, looking up from his work.

"Told me I need a few more days before I can push a pencil, and I had to be qualified on the range again." He stopped and stood in front of the desk. "Capt'n, I'm left handed not right, and he knows that. He's just pulling my chain. He knows I can't afford all this time off. I've used up all my sick and vacation days for the next millennium." His voice raised in volume as his frustration stirred at the surface. He started to pace again.

"Starsky…he's just making sure that you're going to be 100 percent when you get back. Listen, if you need a loan…"

"Captain…I'll be fine. Hutch is helping," his voice lowered slightly. His pacing stalled.

"Just feel like I need to be back at work. Should have been back two weeks ago. I didn't have this kind of problem from him before I took his niece on that doomed date. And I didn't even know that he was her uncle. He's just holding a grudge," his voice now raised again.

"Starsky…look at it as a few more days to help that partner of yours. By the way, where is he and how's he doing?"

"He's stumbling around here someplace. Has his doctor appointments here in a little bit. Had to have the cut on his butt cleaned out again. Damn infection keeps coming back. His therapist says the leg is coming along fine. I just got to convince him of that. He's going stir crazy at home too."

"Has he been to the psychiatrist yet? He needs to talk this thing out too." The captain looked up at his detective. He showed his genuine concern for his detective. Starsky and Hutch were his best detectives, and friends.

"Capt'n, ya know that he'll just push it back and let it fester in the back of that blond head of his. I can't seem to get him to open up to me that much. The whole ordeal of it involving Nick just keeps him quiet. He still has his share of nightmares too."

Being a victim was a reality that Hutch was still dealing with. He was still having a hard time accepting what had happened. Starsky knew that his friend was still hurting emotionally as well as physically. In his own time Hutch would come to him and finally open up. Starsky would be there for him. It was just a matter of time.

"Have you heard from your mother? Have they got Nick settled in out there in New York? You know that he's going to be in jail for a while."

"Yeah. Ma said that she was going to see about visitation. She's still upset about the whole thing. She can't believe that he would do something like this. She knows how much Hutch means to me. And for Nick to be involved the way he was, just upsets her."

"She is a tough person and I'm sure that she'll ride this storm out alright. How are you coping with it?"

"Capt'n, I just need to concentrate on getting Hutch and myself back on the street. It's going to take Hutch time to heal, but if I can just get him at least back at the office, I think that he'll feel better."

"Both your jobs are going to be here. You just get the two of you healed." The captain smiled at his officer, while pointing a fist at him.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Babcock held the door open for the big Nordic as Hutch had slowly made his way to the office. He was now painstakingly trying to make it to his side of the shared desk. But the chairs down the middle between the tables were making obstacles for him. The crutches were making moving around virtually impossible for him. There was only Baker and Simmons in the room at the time. Both offered assistance, but the bullheaded blond just refused politely and continued with his mission.

Starsky moved to the door that separated Captain Dobey's office and the squad room.

The phone rang on their desk and Hutch, out of habit, snatched up the phone while balancing on the crutches.

"Hutchinson," he said slightly out of breath and leaning heavily on the crutches.

"Well hello Sis." He straightened up.

Starsky walked out of the captain's office and plopped down in his chair on his side of the desk, and watched his partner.

"How are things back home?"

'Sister' Hutch mouthed over to Starsky. Starsky smiled and nodded.

"Sure," he acknowledged in the phone while his right hand unconsciously gripped the receiver tighter.

"Oh?" The left hand went to the back of his neck and started to rub.

Starsky sat and started to watch his partner. He could read his partner's body language like a book. Let's see if I can figure this one out buddy.

"Yes." Hutch's tone had gone from 'happy to hear from you' to 'questioning why you called'.

You're not happy about the direction that this is going. Starsky thought.

"But…" The hands switched jobs between the receiver and his neck. His head went back as his eyes went to the ceiling and then lowered back towards his partner.

It has to do with your family and you're not interested in it. The one-sided, one syllable conversation perked Starsky's interest.

"I'm…"

A pause…

"But …" trying to explain, but was cut off.

She's backing you up in a corner, and you're trying to escape.

"Well…" The hands again switched positions. He glanced over to his smiling partner. Starsky just sat with his hands clasped behind his head and his feet crossed at the ankles on the corner of the desk. Hutch scowled over to him. Starsky winked and smiled at him in return.

"Sure." A sigh of defeat was released. He dropped his head.

You let her talk you into something that you don't want to do.

"Yesss..." slowly escaped out weakly.

"NO!" His head popped up. A firm rejection.

That's it buddy, stand up to her although we both know that when it comes to your sister, you're a push over.

"Fine," defeated again. His head dropped back down.

See? You're a pushover.

"Fine." His hand went from his neck to his face. He hand slowly came down the side of his face. The other hand held the phone firm against his ear.

Yep, you have been rolled over again by your little sister. Buddy you have no backbone when it comes to her.

Unlike Hutch, his little sister Stacy, had everyone, even their father, wrapped around her little finger. She was daddy's little girl and had his full attention when possible. She had been coddled since birth. Being the baby, she was a bit spoiled. Still, she has a good collage educated head on her shoulders, but used her charm on their father to bend to her every wants and needs. Their mother too, lavishes her with whatever she asks for. Hutch too, found it hard to say 'no' to her. But distance helped, sometimes. Just something about her, let those around fall for her spell.

This spell had caught the attention of a young doctor. They married a year ago. The wedding was spectacular. Mother and daughter planned and achieved one of the biggest weddings the town had seen. Dr. and Mrs. Luke Mitchelson then spent a month long honeymoon on a tropical island.

Hutch had flown home a few days for the wedding. Both the older doctor and detective had put aside their differences, for the sake of the bride. Times with his father were kept quiet and cordial. The subject of the past-over med school was left out of the conversations on his father's part, and the subject of Hutch's life as a cop and the ugliness that he endures was left out of the conversation on Hutch's part. The talks were short.

"Yes…OK…we will." Hutch glared over at his partner.

Don't like the way you said 'we' buddy. That means I'm included in this somehow.

"Love you too. See you soon." Hutch placed the phone back down on the cradle and stood there leaning heavy on the crutches. He stared down at the phone before he looked over at his partner.

"Come on, let's go." He turned quickly around without giving Starsky time to start his battery of questions, and with his natural clumsiness, Hutch stumbled.

In his haste, the right crutch snagged the leg of his chair. He fell heavily forward, his chest hitting the backrest of the chair he was trying to go around.

He not only felt it, but heard the internal 'pop'. The big blond then hit the floor…hard. He instantly grabbed for the left side of his chest. The air in his lungs had exploded out of him.

"OH SHIT!" Starsky shoot out of his chair, rounded the table, and in a blink of an eye he was at Hutch's side.

"Hutch? You alright?" He bent over his partner. Baker and Simmons too, were on their feet, waiting to lend a hand if needed. Baker reached down and picked up the toppled chair and moved the offending crutches out of the way.

A soft wheezing sound escaped the big Midwesterner as his lungs desperately inhaled. The air was returning in gasps.

"Starsky…just…get me…up. I'm fine." Hutch struggled out while trying to catch his breath through clenched teeth.

Starsky looked into Hutch's eyes and instantly knew that 'fine' wasn't even close to being right. His face had gone pale.

A quick silent message bounced between them. 'Please…not here.' Starsky bounced back, 'Alright.'

"Come on buddy, on your feet. You know you really should try to trade one of those left feet of yours for a right one." Starsky reached down and gingerly grabbed Hutch under his arm.

Hutch rolled and grabbed Starsky's arm and with his help, got back to his feet. He leaned heavily on the back of the chair, inhaling deeply as his breath came back. Hutch watched as the room tried to get back to a horizontal plain. Starsky grabbed him around the waist to help stabilize him. Hutch shifted his weight onto his partner's hip. At the moment he didn't care if they had an audience. The precinct rumor-mill was already running wild with the Hutchinson and Starsky theatrics. He didn't care.

"I've gotcha partner," Starsky softly told him. He waved the other two officers off. They stepped back and watched as the shorter detective tenderheartedly held up his taller partner.

"Hutchinson, are you alright?" The captain asked as he heard the commotion and now stood in the doorway, his broad frame filling in the open space.

"I'm fine Captain," Hutch lied. He coughed, still trying to catch his breath and getting his composure back. Another rapid session of dry coughs took over. He struggled to quiet them.

"Hutch, as much as I'm glad to see you up and around, get your ass out of here until you're fully recovered," the captain demanded in a concerned but stern voice. He had a genuine concern for his officer as he does for all the men under his command, but Starsky and Hutch held a soft spot in his heart.

"We were just on our way out Capt'n," Starsky stated towards him. He reached out to the crutches Baker held.

The captain slowly turned back into his office, hesitating slightly as he watched his brunet officer help with his partner to get himself back together again.

Looking deeply into blue eyes to see that he was alright to continue, Starsky handed Hutch the dreaded crutches again. Hutch being klutzy with two feet to begin with, and now with two more legs added to the mix, and he's doomed. A new born cult had more grace then he does.

Hutch snatched the two offending sticks from him. Got them under his arms and started for the door, mumbling obscenities under his breath that Starsky couldn't quit catch. He just knew that Hutch was upset over the phone call from his sister and now hurting again.

Starsky walked in front and moved chairs out of the way so Hutch could get to the door without another incident.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

"Yeah, they're here. Yeah, Starsky had an appointment with the doc. Yes, he's here too. Just took a long distant call from Minnesota. Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. I'll see if I can get that for you. Take some time though. Hey, I said that I would try. Anything concerning those two is on tight lock down. Yeah. Tonight." The phone was laid back down as the two detectives had rounded the corner.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Starsky walked protectively close to his partner. Hutch continued to cough, his breath catching every now and then. But as they maneuvered down the hallways, Hutch slowly gained speed, or as much as the crutches would allow. He was determined to get to the car.

"Come on Hutch, take it easy buddy," Starsky told him, more in worry that he was going to take another nosedive to the floor.

Hutch stopped suddenly. "Starsky I just want to get to the car and get the rest of the day over with."

"Already got that pal. But there's no race. I know that you're hurt. You bust up that rib again?"

"Starsk…please…let's just get to the doctor's office and have him check things out." A pleading look covered Hutch's face.

Starsky stepped in front of his friend and opened the double doors. Hutch clumsily slid past him and continued his task to get to the car.

Starsky opened the passenger door of the Torino and Hutch slowly dropped into the seat. His right arm instantly wrapped tight around his chest. Starsky tossed the crutches into the back seat and rounded the car to the driver's side. He slid under the steering wheel and turned to his partner.

"Now you going to tell me if your hurt or not?"

"I think I might have broken that rib again. I'm not sure. Can we just get to the hospital so that the doctor can look at it?" Hutch looked over at his concerned partner.

Starsky started the roar under the hood. The rumbling from the engine reverberated through the thick steel of the car. Hutch could feel the slight pulsing from the engine in his ribs. He tightened his grip around his chest. Starsky palmed the wheel and got the car out towards the street.

"OK, you want to tell me why the conversation with your sister got you upset?" He turned the car onto the street.

"Starsky…please, not right now."

"No, now is good," the dark haired detective pushed. "Got a few minutes to the hospital. Spill it." He gave his partner a side glance.

"Fine. It's my parent's anniversary this weekend and Stacy thought that it would be a good idea for me to fly over for it. She and Mom are throwing a party Saturday night," Hutch told him.

Starsky shoot his partner a hard look, "I thought that you had informed them about what happened?"

"I told Mom enough to let her know that I'm fine."

"Hutch you know, you really need to open up a better line of communication with your folks." He pulled the car to a slow stop at a stoplight.

"Starsk…lets not do this. You and I both know that I'm not at the best of terms with my father. So can we just drop it?" A slight pleading tone came from him.

"So what about the party?" The light turned green and he slowly got the car rolling again.

"We're going." Hutch looked over at his partner knowing and hoping that Starsky would try to back out. Then maybe he could try to back out of it himself.

Starsky shot a glare at his friend and then let it soften. As much as the timing was bad, with Hutch still in pain and relying on him for help, a trip out of the house might help Hutch get his mind off his emotional turmoil and relax a little.

"Good. Maybe a short trip home will be good for ya. 'Sides would love to meet your folks." Starsky smiled at him. He reached over and threaded his fingers through the long golden strands and gave them a gentle tug. Hutch just slouched lower into the seat. He was hoping that Starsky would reject and he wouldn't have to explain what happened to him to his family. Plus when they got there, his partner will want explanations too. Great Hutchinson, now you got yourself in a real mess.

"Can we just get to my appointments please?" Hutch asked, changing the subject and looking out at the city building as they passed by. The early spring sun was glistening on the building's windows.

He knew that there was going to be some kind of fight, argument, disagreement, or stalemate with his father. His father, even now after nine years since announcing that he was going to become a cop and not the doctor his father wanted, could still needle him about the choice. It was a choice that he didn't take lightly, but he felt it strong enough in his heart. Even becoming the brilliant detective that he was, his father still couldn't get past the fact that he had made the decision for his life.

Hutch took in a deep breath and let it slowly escape him. It was going to be a long week.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"Hi Minnie. Just saw Hutchinson and Starsky passing by. Haven't seen them around lately. Saw Hutchinson was on crutches. Is he alright?" Jeanna Roberts, the front desk operator asked as Minnie walked past the switchboard.

"Yeah, he seems to be on the mend," Minnie answered back, 'Roberts' reading the girl's nameplate on her uniform. Minnie wasn't to familiar with the new girl. She had only been at the precinct for about a month.

"He's kind of dreamy. He's from Minnesota right?" Jeanna probed as she leaned over the counter.

Minnie thought the question over. It was common knowledge that Starsky was from New York and Hutch was from Duluth.

"Sure."

"What part, because I sure would love to go visiting there and find me a man like him? All that blond hair and blue eyes. I'm in love with tall blonds. Bet they know how to keep their women warm at night." Jeanna smiled with the look of a love sick puppy.

"Duluth." Minnie smiled back.

"And that Starsky. I bet he knows how to show a girl a good time. He's from back East? New York, right?"

"Right." Instantly a red flag went up in Minnie head. This girl was starting to ask too many questions about the two detectives, even if it just concerned where they were from. She needed to end the conversation.

"I've got to go. Jeanna right?" Minnie asked. She made a mental note of the name.

"Alright. Talk to you again soon." Jeanna turned and went back to the switchboard.

Minnie walked off, mentally making sure that she got the conversation she just had, filed away for later.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Captain Dobey had made sure that there were only a few people that knew what exactly had happened three weeks earlier, the less that know, the better. It wasn't a cover up, just a controlled case. It would be the best for his two detectives.

The judge that arraigned Nick Starsky quickly made sure that the docket was cleared the case was heard and pushed through quickly. With all parties directly involved in the kidnapping and attempted murder, having died… Nick Starsky remaining the only link and with Captain Dobey and Detective Starsky as witnesses to the conversation at the hospital, the case moved smoothly and quietly.

Minnie, Mildred in dispatch, Simmons, Baker, Sullivan, and Babcock, the officers on duty that Friday night and Saturday morning three weeks earlier, had been summoned into Dobey's office by the big burly Captain and the FBI official late that Saturday night. And of course I.A. stood in on the conversation. The kidnapping of the two detectives wasn't to go any further then the four walls that surrounded them. As far as anyone wanted to know, the two officers in question were involved in an incident while off duty. The truth, but the details were confidential. If anyone of them were being asked questions about it, they were to report it to the Captain. At that time they didn't know who was involved. It wasn't until Nick Starsky had mentioned something at the hospital that Sunday afternoon, that Captain Dobey then found out who was behind the kidnapping.

At that time the News reporters were also kept in the dark. The only thing they knew about what happened that night was that there was a crazy chase that involved a red race car that was stolen from the drag strip that was about two hours from Bay City. The kidnapping of the two detectives was being vague and sketchy. They only heard rumor that there had been two cops that had gone missing and found safely a short time afterwards. Their names and precinct was unknown. The FBI had stepped in quickly to stop any information that may have leaked out and connected the two detectives to the case. To Dobey, that was all that they were good for at the time. His relationship with the Federal Bureau of Investigation wasn't the best. But as long as they kept his men safe from the media, they were doing their job.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

11:30am, and the two detectives slowly made their way down the sterile hallway of the hospital towards Dr. Holaster's office. The smell of disinfectant assaulted their nostrils as they walked. It was the smell that Starsky had come to hate over the last three weeks. It was a reminder of how much he almost lost. It reminded him that Hutch had almost died surrounded by these walls that permeated the smell.

His world was upended and almost ceased to exist there three weeks earlier. The massive amount of blood that Hutch had lost, mixed with the beating that he endured, almost took him from his world. Death had reached its hand around Hutch's arm and was slowly pulling him away. Starsky did everything in his power to pull him back. Hutch's heart and soul was his. Hutch had entrusted him to keep them safe. They are the most precious and unseen possession that he owns, and he would fight anyone or thing to keep them with him. His heart only beats because Hutch's was there to keep the rhythm steady. Their heart beats flowed in a dance together, moving as one, such as the rest of their lives together.

A young bouncy blonde, in her late teens, rounded the corner in the hallway, just about tripping and knocking Hutch over. She was able to avoid the collision in the last split second.

"Well if it isn't my favorite B and B couple. It's so nice to see you up and around. You're a lot taller seeing you standing," she told Hutch with a bright smile as she straightened herself out. "And you're looking cute as ever," she said to Starsky. "You two are just the cutest couple." Her smile and eyes beamed. "Well, got to get back to my rounds. You two have a nice day. Again, it's so nice to see you two. Bye bye." She turned and continued her bounce down the hallway. The blonde ponytail that she wore, bounced in rhythm with her stride.

Starsky and Hutch both turned and looked back at the girl. Her head bobbed while she skipped away. Neither had the chance to say a word, not a hello, goodbye, or to even ask what B and B stood for. They looked at each other, Starsky shrugged, then turned back towards the doctor's office.

Hutch suddenly stiffened. 'You're not wanted around him, you Faggot', the invisible voice from the mine unexpectedly stabbed him from behind in his head, then just as quickly, it receded back to the dark that it came from.

Hutch clamped his eyes shut momentarily. Leave me the hell alone, damn it! Hutch cursed the unseen demon. He took in a deep breath then turned back to Starsky who was standing and waiting for him. Starsky looked at him with a look of concern.

"What?" Hutch asked roughly. But instantly realizing he was taking out his frustration on his friend. Sorry. He sent out the apology.

"OK, she was a little too perky. Do we know her?" Hutch softened his voice, as he tried to hide the unseen attack from his friend. But Starsky too, had felt the sudden impact at his friend.

"Yeah, she works at the hospital and brought your magazines and juice. She's a candy stripper," he answered him with a lingering look into the big man's blue eyes. It's ok Hutch. I'm here to help whenever you're ready.

"Fine. Let's just get this over with," he said as he stood at the door to Doctor Holaster's office.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Doctor Holaster looked over at his patient. Hutch sat with his right arm wrapped around his chest, holding onto his left side.

"Are you hurting again?"

"Yeah. He just took a spill a short time ago. I think that he busted up that rib again," Starsky informed the doctor. Hutch sharply glanced over at his partner.

"Let's get an x-ray of that chest and see if you broke it again." Dr. Holaster said as he poked and prodded around his chest.

"You keeping up with the antibiotics on that cut on your backside? Taking your pills like I prescribed? Are you in need of more pain pills? Dr. Holaster eyed the patient's partner who stood protectively at the foot of the examining table.

"Yes Sir, I'm keeping it cleaned and new bandages applied like you said. He takes his antibiotics on schedule." Again Starsky stepping in before Hutch had time to answer. The question to the pain pills went unanswered.

The doctor smiled. The two men in front of him, cared deeply for each other and the over protectiveness of the brunet told him that his patient was being well cared for at home.

"Lets get a picture of that rib first, and then I'll take a look at the rest of you."

Starsky stepped around to help Hutch off the examining table, and steadied him while handing him the crutches again.

"Doc, is there any way that I can get rid of these damn things? I can't seem to get the hang of them. Can I use a cane or something? Or go without all together?" Hutch asked and hoped.

"After the x-ray I'll get a good assessment of your progress and we'll go from there."

"Thanks Doc," the tall blond softly said.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

An hour later, after going down to X-ray and waiting for the film to come back, Hutch was back on the doctor's table. This time stripped down to nothingness and a sheet.

The doctor slowly went over all the injuries, slowly evaluating the big blond from head to toe, making sure that all the injuries were carefully looked at.

The overhead light beamed down onto the pasty body that was laid out on the table beneath it. The bright light was showing every little detail that was left from the beating. It showed the areas of fading contusions, soft hues of light yellows and greens, along with the three healing pink cuts across his chest. The lingering reds, greens, blacks, and purples down the left side of that smooth chest that now had a new set of colors blending with old, as the new bruising started from the fall just a short time ago. The knife wound in the left hip area, a healthy pink as the healing continued. The light brightened the coloration on the lower right side of the body. The hip and leg's blues and blacks mixed with deep reds and greens, being edged with lighter hues of yellows.

With Hutch turned over, the light shined down on the strong back, revealing just a small amount of bruising and scabbing left. The wound that was left from the blade, on the firm butt, was still fresh and raw. The dark sutures lined neatly across the top. The swelling from the reopening and cleaning had mostly subsided. The skin was slowly smoothing out. A cautious eye was to stay focused on it, to make sure that no more infection would start again.

At the times Hutch moaned or cringed from the poking and prodding, Starsky had to fight with himself to stay back and let the doctor do his job. The need to protect his partner from pain itched at the surface. He just wanted and needed to soothe his friend. His internal impulse to jump up to be at his partner's side, was straining his patience.

"Alright Mr. Hutchinson, you can get dressed now," the doctor said as he snapped his surgical gloves off.

Starsky was up and out of the chair that he had sat and fidgeted in, and was at his partner's side. "Well Doc? How's he looking? He's healing OK, right?"

Turning to the overprotective man that had taken over nursing duties, "Well detective, looks like your partner broke that rib again along the same fracture line like before. We're going to put the chest wrap back on. The bruising on the thigh and hip is healing, even though it looks bad, it's slowly fading, another few weeks and you won't even be able to see them. Looks like the infection in that cut had subsided and the healing has started, but I still want you to stay on top of keeping it clean." He looked back up at his patient.

"I still want you to try to stay off your right side as much as you can. I know that it's difficult but if you can keep most of your weight to the left, it'll help the blood flow to the wound and the healing progress will quicken. So no long sitting on your right side," the doctor said as he wrapped the pressure bandage around Hutch's chest.

"Doc, I've got to get on a plane in the morning. I've got a trip to Duluth," Hutch said while inhaling sharply as the wrap tightened around him. Starsky lent a hand as the doctor placed the clips in place.

Starsky shot his partner a quick look. "Hutch, maybe the trip isn't such a good idea," He said as he helped with getting him dressed.

"Detective that's a long flight. I agree with your partner, it might be best that you postpone it."

"Yes I know, but it's important that I go. It'll only be for a few days. Should be back Sunday. Starsky has to get back to work on Monday anyways." He shot his partner a look.

"Officer Hutchinson I don't agree that you go on this trip, but if you must, I don't want you to go alone."

"I won't be, my partner here, will be by my side." Hutch looked over at Starsky.

"Alright. But if you need any help while your there, make sure you get to a doctor."

"His father is a well known physician," Starsky informed the doctor while helping Hutch off the table.

Hutch shot him a look. Had to bring that up, didn't you?

"You said that you're going to Duluth Minnesota?"

"Yes."

"You wouldn't be related to a Dr. Richard Hutchinson?" The doctor asked while putting name and city together.

"Yes, that would be my father," Hutch said with a little sourness in his voice.

"Well I know of your father. He's a brilliant surgeon. He has developed some outstanding procedures. Real cutting-edge stuff," the doctor stated as he stepped aside to allow his patient to move to the chair and sit down. Starsky held his arm as Hutch slowly lowered into the chair, the chest wrap preventing a lot of movement.

"I feel much better now, knowing that you're going to be in good hands." Doctor Holaster smiled as he watched the shorter detective finished dressing his partner by placing his shoes on his feet for him. "I could message him to let him know the details of your recovery if you wish."

"No!" Hutch protested. "I'll let him know. They don't need to know the whole sorted details," Hutch softened his voice after getting side-glanced from his partner. 'Easy partner.' Starsky had silently told him. "Thanks, but I'll take care of that, if the questions arise."

"That's fine, but if he needs anymore information, please tell him just give me a call." The doctor got the impression that his patient wasn't on too good of terms with the famous doctor.

"How's your apatite? It shows that you lost a few pounds. Detective you really need to make sure that your eating good. Your body needs to heal, and to do so, it shouldn't be deprived of calories that it needs."

"I'm working on it Doc. I just haven't had an apatite. Nothing tastes good right now."

"How about trying to eat smaller meals more often. Change it up some. I'm sure that you can find something that appeals to you." He looked over at Starsky. The sable haired man just shrugged slightly and gave the doctor a look, as to confirm that he has tried to get the big blond to eat.

"What about the crutches? Can I go without them?" Hutch quickly changed the subject.

"I think that you could go with a cane. With the pressure bandage back on, it'll be easier with the cane. You have your therapy this afternoon?"

"Yeah, we're on our way over after finishing up here," Starsky stated as he helped Hutch out of the chair.

"Good, they should be able to get you accustomed to the cane. Just take your time. And I'll see you next week," Doctor Holaster told the tall blond as he walked the two men from the examining room to the office door.

"Thanks Doc," Starsky told him. With green sucker in hand that he plucked from the jar on receptionist's desk, he held the door open for his blond counterpart.

Dr. Holaster smiled to himself. Just finding out that his patient was the son of the renowned Dr. Hutchinson made him proud to know that he was able to save his son's life.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"If he thinks that he can get away with what he did, he's fucking mistaken. That damn New Yorker thinks that the world revolves around him. I'll show him what the real fucking world is. Showing his ass in front of those people. Making me look like I don't know what's going on. He gets over there and makes friends with those niggers. And that pretty-boy blond he has as a partner. That Jew won't know what hit him after I am done with that blond partner of his." The gun was slowly caressed as it was being cleaned and polished.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

20 minutes before Hutch's physical therapy appointment, and the partners were in the hospital cafeteria finishing some lunch. At least on Starsky's part.

Hutch sat and pushed his food around on the plate as Starsky finished his sandwich and was eyeing Hutch's plate. "OK you want to tell me what's bothering you? You know that you're supposed to eat that, not just play with it?" He reached over and snagged a couple fries that had sat and got cold. Mentally again, noting the lack of eating on his partner's part.

"Starsky…I just want to get over with this day, and this whole week." Hutch looked up. His mind was on the events of the day so far. It had started out just fine, but rolling down hill and picking up speed until crashing at the bottom. It's just not one of his better days.

"You know that you can always call your sister and tell her that you're just not up to the trip. You're hurt again and you need your rest. Maybe this trip isn't the best thing for you right now." Starsky started to reconsider the whole idea. Especially with Hutch's mood getting gloomier as the day dragged on.

"Starsky, I know that you're concerned about me, but I'll be alright. It's important for the family," Hutch said sternly as he looked up from his plate to his friend.

"But Hutch…what's important for you? Right now, that would be you getting well. And your wellbeing is what's important to me. All of you, physically and mentally. I just want what's best for you." Starsky raised a brow at him.

"Mentally? You think that I'm going to embarrass myself or you in front of someone? I can handle it!" His frustration erupted as he shoved his plate halfway across the table towards his partner sitting across from him. Bitter blue eyes locked with reassuring sapphire. Seeing that his partner sat unmoved, he let go of the bitter self-loathing that was eating at him. He dropped his eyes.

He just felt that he was losing the control that he once held so tight, the control that made up his life, his thinking, his emotions. The voices and nightmares had weaseled in and struggled for control over his emotions, and he was tired of the fight.

"Sorry…I just…" He took in a breath and blew it out slowly.

"Look Hutch…I know that you're holding all that happened in the back of that blond head of yours and it's just sitting there festering. I just want you to know that I'm here when you want to talk about it." He kept his voice low, steady, and reassuring.

Hutch sat back in his chair and his eyes went to his hands that twisted slightly together in his lap. Starsky was right. This was eating at him and if he didn't face it sooner or later, it was going to destroy him. "Starsk, I'm just tired, and hurt. Let's just get this done and go home." He glanced up and across the table.

Starsky took a drink from his Root Beer, set it back down, and then got up from the table. He walked around to Hutch who sat looking down at his hands. He ran his hands down the big man's shoulders and leaned over closer to the feather-light golden hair.

"It's going to be alright you big lug. Dr. Starsky is here to take care of you. We'll do whatever you feel like doing. But right now you have an appointment with your lovely 'torture chamber' lady," he softly told him as he helped Hutch get to his feet.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

2:00pm, and the two men were slowly making their way down the last corridor of the hospital to the physical therapy room. Hutch had slowed his pace as the afternoon was starting to weigh heavy on him. He was already tired and now just wanted to get this last thing done so they could get back home.

The unmistakable antiseptic smell of the hospital was adding to his sour mood. There were too many memories associated with that smell that abused his nostrils. This time around it was his own experience, though he was in a medicated stupor due to strong pain medication, that odor could reach into any level of consciousness. It reminded him of waking up in the hospital, and of the strange bed that he was strapped to and the fear he endured during the turning. But mostly, it reminded him that he almost left his partner, permanently. But his heart and soul pushed him to rejoin his partner. He couldn't leave the other half of himself to live a life feeling one half his soul being ripped off.

Becky Taylor was just finishing with another patient, a ten year old boy that was an innocent bystander of a drive-by shooting. He had been shot in the hip and was still in a wheelchair. As his mother slowly pushed the chair past the two detectives, the little boy smiled up to the two men as if he may have recognized them. Starsky smiled back down at him. Hutch gave the mom a small nod of acknowledgement. She gave a small smile back, and continued out the room with her precious package.

"Hello Detectives Hutchinson and Starsky. How are you doing today Ken?" she asked as Hutch slowly made his way to the chair that was next to her desk. Starsky held the crutches as he helped Hutch slowly sit down.

"He's had better days." Starsky had again jumped in and speaking for his partner. He walked over next to the therapist who sat at her desk.

"What my partner here is trying to say is, that I'm tired and just want to get this over with," Hutch said roughly, clearing his throat as he stifled a stray cough.

Starsky leaned over closer to the red head and whispered to her. "He's a little grumpy right now. Needs a nap," said raising a brow over at his friend.

"Starsky…it's not nice to talk about someone in front of them."

"Touchy too," he added as he smiled and winked over at his partner.

"Oh…I see." A smile spread over the redhead's face. "Anything bothering you today Detective?"

"Yes! I want out of these crutches. Dr. Holaster said that I can go with a cane and that you would be able to get me one."

"And he also took a spill today," again Starsky adding to the conversation. Hutch shot him a look as Starsky slowly walked behind the chair he was sitting in.

"Oh, I hope that you're going to be OK," Becky voiced her concern.

"I'll be fine. Can we just get started please?" His voice slightly rose.

"Cranky too." Starsky added again as he unconsciously rubbed the blonds' shoulders.

"Am not."

"Are so," Starsky softly said down to Hutch but with a big smile on his face towards Becky. He stepped to his partner's side and offered a hand. Hutch glared up at him as he took Starsky's hand and slowly pulled himself up from the chair.

Over the past three weeks, Becky had come to know the two men with her now. The brunet as a protective and constant companion, and that he cared very deeply for the blond. He has an honest and genuine love for his friend. She had caught a couple glances from the blond to the brunet that reflected the same love. She hoped that she too, would find a similar kind of deep rooted fondness in someone in her own life.

"Alright Ken. You're my last patient for the day, so let's say we get started. I promise to be gentle with you since you've already had a rough day," she said with a smile as they started their way across the room filled with 'torture' equipment.

"No, we continue like before. As a matter of fact, lets add more weight and reps," Hutch sternly said as he made his way to the far side of the room.

"Hutch I don't think…"

"Stuff it Starsky!' Hutch glared at his partner and Starsky knew from the tone and the look that he received, that he had learned over the years not to argue. Hutch had set his mind and it would be futile to try to change it. That 'stubborn Hutchinson' trait showing it's self.

Stubborn, bullheaded mule. Starsky just shock his head and walked over to his side. He would stay by his side and support him, even though he knew Hutch would regret it afterwards. And he would be by his side later, to help ease his pains he was sure the big ox was going to have.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

At the end of an hour, Hutch was feeling totally exhausted. His leg and hip was burning with white hot fire. His chest strained to inhale, as the chest wrap seemed to have shrunk two sizes in the last hour.

"Alright, let's see about getting you out of those crutches," Becky stated as she looked through a closet with various sizes of canes. She pulled a couple out that she thought would fit him and handed him one.

Hutch took it into his right hand. It was just a little too short. He handed it back as she passed him the other. This time it was the right height. He had it in his right hand and started to walk. He was slightly off balance and wobbled to and fro.

"Um, Hutch?"

"What?" he snapped.

"You have it in the wrong hand," Starsky told him.

"Starsky, it's my right leg that's not working, so it goes in my right hand," grumpily escaping an exhausted Hutch.

"No. It goes in you left hand. Here, let me show ya." Starsky took the cane that Becky still had in her hand, smiled at her, and demonstrated to his partner how to walk with a cane.

"See when you walk, you put out your right foot and left arm, then the left foot and right arm. See?" Starsky slowly strutted around Hutch and his therapist. Hutch couldn't roll his eyes enough.

"OK fine." Hutch switched hands and slowly started his way around the room.

"See buddy. You'll be running marathons here real soon," Starsky teased.

"Thank you Ms. Taylor for the lovely workout. Now Starsky, can we please go home?"

a tired Hutch asked.

"Well I think that you have the hang of the cane. It should be easier for you. Why don't I walk the two of you out? I'm off for the rest of the afternoon." Becky smiled at the two men as they walked to the door.

"Would love to walk you out to your car," Starsky stated as he held the door open for his partner and his therapist.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

The threesome slowly made their way out to the parking lot. They walked at Hutch's pace, giving him time. His pace seemed to slow with every step. Starsky knew that he was spent. He could see in his face, what color he had, was slowly fading and beads of sweat starting to glisten on his brow. But Hutch slowly continued down the long hospital corridors. He wasn't about to show his frailty, not even to his therapist. He would put up a front in public. Only at home with Starsky, would he allow himself to break down.

Starsky walked ahead and held open the last double doors that led out to the parking lot.

The therapist and her patient past by him, he gave Hutch a quick glance into those wondrous blue eyes that now seemed to have dulled slightly as the day grew old. 'I'll get you home soon.' He silently reassured the big Nordic. Hutch gave him a small nod as a reply.

The afternoon sun had heated the mid April day to a nice seventy five degrees. There was only a soft hint of the city smog hanging in the air as the sea breeze blew it out. It was a nice spring day.

"Which one is yours?" Starsky asked as he was performing a guessing game in his head. He was trying to pair up her personality that he had gathered over the last three weeks, with the wide variety of vehicles that were parked out in front of them.

He glanced over at a white 1970 V.W. Beetle. He smiled to himself. He could picture her driving around the beach in something like that with the top down with her surfboard in the back seat, wearing dark sunglasses and her auburn hair flying in the breeze. He glanced at the deep red 1964 Mustang convertible that sat next to the Bug. It was sporty and he could see her in that too. Then thought maybe the bigger 1970 baby blue and white striped Oldsmobile Cutlass convertible. Even maybe the sporty gray Porsche a couple rows back. But she seems more sensible then flaunting money, so maybe the powder blue 1975 Vega instead. He just wasn't prepared for the answer that he got.

"Next row up. I'm in the big blue 4x4, with the surfboards sticking out the back. My girlfriend and I are going to the beach." She smiled at the brunet detective.

"That big thing is yours?" A stunned Starsky asked as he came to a sudden stop. He just didn't picture the pretty little therapist driving around in such a big masculine vehicle. The big blue and white Ford Bronco loomed over everything else around it. The topless truck sported a roll bar and cloth cover. It had a large brush bar and winch mounted on the front of it instead of the front bumper. The large wheels were big enough to maneuver over any obstacle that would get in her way. The suspension modified to compensate for any large boulders that she needed it to crawl over. This was a monster of a vehicle. It's a man's truck. Not a dainty little lady's grocery-getter.

"Sure it's mine. Hauls what I need and I can go out to the desert and do a little rock crawling and four-wheeling in it. My way off releasing the tension that can come with the job." She leaned over towards the curly haired man that stood next to her, bumping arms with him. "You know, girls can go out and have some fun too," she softly said. "We need that adrenalin rush just as much as you boys do." She smiled up at the man that just looked at her with a look of confusion and intrigue.

Starsky walked slowly around the massive truck. "You got the 351 in it?" He asked testing to see just how much she knew about her form of transportation.

"It had the 351 Windsor in it when I bought it, but I had that pulled out and had a 460 big block dropped in. Had a pair of Boss Nine cylinder heads put on, a Holley duel plane intake manifold. And long tube headers, straight piped." She smiled at the detective as he stood with a stunned look. She just got the better of him. She knows just as much about engines as he does.

Starsky was always attracted to women and their soft bodies and hearts. But Ms. Becky Taylor had just thrown him off center. He realized that she was a little like himself. She was soft hearted, kind, a brilliant professional, but at the same time, a little rough around the edges. He wasn't sure if he was attracted to her because of that or not. He was beginning to really like this spunky little lady.

"How'd you get to know so much about trucks and engines?" He asked her with a smile.

"A girl can have a hobby too. Besides, girls need to know what's under the hood and how to take care of it." She just beamed a bright smile back at him.

"Well, we hope that you have a nice afternoon on the water, and we'll see you next week," Hutch told her as he tried to sound cordial, but his body was about to give out on him.

His eyes went to his partner that still had a questioning look on his face. Starsky…

"Yep, you two have fun and don't get eaten by sharks," Starsky told her with a big crooked smile. The movie 'Jaws' flashed in his mind.

"Thank you. 'Till next week then, boys." With that, the petite redhead climbed up in the big SUV. She got the big engine stated. It roared out its presences and then idled down to a loud purr. The two men stood aside as she maneuvered the big vehicle around them. She waved back at them. The two men watched as she drove off.

"Hutch?" Starsky asked as he got the two of them headed over two rows to where he parked the Torino.

"Hmm?"

"What'dya think?"

"You'll have to do better then that."

"That's an awful big truck for such a tiny woman."

"So?"

"She seems a little tomboyish don'tcha think? Driving a big off-road truck like that, surfs with her girlfriend, and tortures people for a living. You don't think that…"

"Starsky stop trying to analyze. You suck at it. I think your problem is that, that parade float of yours has been out powered by a girl's and you don't know how to handle that." Hutch had slowed his pace to a crawl. He reached over with his right hand and grabbed his friend by the arm, stopping them both. "Can we just get home please?" Hutch looked at him while trying to catch his breath.

Starsky dropped the subject and his mind instantly was back to his partner's needs. "Sure buddy."

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Twenty minutes later, "you're sure you still want to go? We can always call her back. I got a dime for the call."

"Stuff your dime Starsk…we're going," Hutch told him sharply.

"Alright. Anything in particular that I should pack?" Starsky asked when he pulled the car up to his apartment. They had swung by his place to pick up clothes for the trip.

"Starsky…dig around up there and see if you even own a couple pairs of jeans that don't have holes in them, and some nice long-sleeve shirts. It's cold there. A nice evening jacket and slacks for the party as well. It's not that difficult," Hutch said with a touch of exasperation. Hutch sat leaning tiredly against the passenger door.

"K. You alright down here by yourself?"

"Starsky… get out of the car and go pack." He glared over at his partner.

"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." The curly haired detective jumped out the car and raced up the wooden stairs to the deck at his front door. He glanced back down to the car. He took notice that Hutch sat slouched in the seat rubbing his forehead. I'll make this quick buddy.

Starsky opened the door and switched on the light. His first thought was to put in a call to their superior officer to let him know that they would be out of town for the next few days. He picked up the phone.

"Dobey here," the captain said in a gruff voice.

"Capt'n, it's Starsky,"

"Starsky, did you get that partner of yours to his doctor appointments?"

"Yeah. He broke that rib again when he fell."

"Damn. He's going to be alright though?"

"The doc says he'll be fine, just a hairline fracture. Put the chest wrap back on. Did get him out of the crutches and now has a cane to walk with. Should be easier for him to get around. But that's not why I was called."

"And why did you call?"

"While we were at the office, Hutch took a call from his sister. Seems that she wants Hutch there this weekend."

"He told her 'no', right?"

"Tried to, but she cornered him. Looks like we're leaving out in the morning for Duluth."

"Starsky, that's a hell of a long flight," the captain voiced his concern.

"I know Capt'n, but he's just being stubborn and said it's important."

"You think he's up to it?"

"No, but his mind is set." He was thinking about how headstrong his partner could get when he had set his mind on doing something.

"Well you better stick close to him," said the captain even though he already knew that they were joined at the hip as it was.

"I will Capt'n. We should be back, Sunday. Capt'n can you call the airports and have security informed that we'll be carrying? It'll be easier if they know beforehand."

"Alright." Dobey hung the phone up. At this point he knew too well that after what happened, both of his men would be armed wherever they went. Even to visit family. There would be no talking Hutch out of his and the guilt Starsky had about what happened to his partner, meant that he too, wasn't about to go unarmed. He picked up the phone. Without giving any information for the reason, and a threat of the FBI getting involved, he was able to clear his two officers for the flights.

With that call made, Starsky went to the bedroom to pack.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Hutch sat restlessly in the seat. His body screaming from exhaustion, maybe it was a bad idea to have pushed himself as hard as he did. Not only did his right leg and hip in shear pain, but his chest also protesting the afternoon's workout. A couple of coughs crept from his lung. Just a result from that stupid spill earlier. He convinced himself.

Damn. Why did I agree to this trip? Come on Starsky, I need to get home.

'You're not so tough now, are ya? Got yourself messed up there. Well maybe this time you'll get the hint.' Nick Starsky's voice from three weeks earlier whispered at him.

A sudden ache from the unseen attack went through him. Damn you Nick! Why? He continued to rub his head.

"Starsky…come on and get your ass back down here so we can go home," he said out loud. His patience thinned to breaking point. Damn you Nick!

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

A dark blue Sedan slowly past the red car as it went down the street. The driver pulled the car to the curb a short ways down the road. The driver sat and watched for any activity that may occur in the rearview mirror.

"I should take out your fag ass right now. But there's time. Your ass is mine Hutchinson. Just to prove my point to him, your ass is mine."

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Starsky finished packing and placed his suitcase at the door. He walked over to the kitchen sink. One at a time, he picked up the small plants that took in the sun at the windowsill. He gave them a drink of water and put each back in its place. They're just a small sign of Hutch's love for him.

A sudden tingle of pain went through him. It came from Hutch. He quickly turned and went to the door. He picked up his bag, locked the door behind him and quickly went back down to his partner.

"Alright buddy I'm back. Are you alright?" He asked as he pulled the seat-back forward and placed his suitcase in the backseat. The leather seat squeaking as he sat down under the driver's wheel.

"Can we just get home please?" Hutch asked with closed eyes. His elbow propped on the door and his head heavily cocked to the side. The fingers on his right hand were pressing the crease between his eyes.

"We're on our way buddy." He looked over at his friend. He reached over stroking his knuckle down his friend's cheek. A soft reassurance and reality check that his partner was still with him and sitting next to him. It was just three weeks earlier that that reality was in question. His hand then unconsciously fell to the big blonds' thigh and gave it a soft squeeze. Solid flesh. Just double checking. Just to have Hutch's pretty, but stubborn ass parked next to his, warmed his heart. Even the moodiness that his friend was experiencing every now and then was a reality that he'd rather live with, then the alternative. It's alright Hutch, I'm here.

He turned the key and started the powerful car. He backed out of the driveway. He turned its nose up the hill and into the direction of Venice Place.

The dark car parked down the street, slowly turned around in the street and slowly followed the red car. The destination assumed to be the blond cop's place.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

7:30 Tuesday night found Hutch lay down on his left side and scrunched up at one end of the couch. He looked pitiful. The golden hair, not yet sun-kissed from a summer's sun, was all a mess around his face, listless and scraggy. His hands tucked under the throw pillow. There was a soft moan sometimes escaping his lips every now and then. Starsky watched as the evening slowly wore his friend down. The little-boy look was back again.

Aw Hutch. I'm here buddy. Seeing Hutch so vulnerable made his heart sink. Starsky got up from the chair he was in and went to Hutch. "Come on Blondie, sit up some," he told him as he went to the couch. He bent over Hutch and helped him to sit up, then sat down where Hutch had been laying. "Come here." He reached over and gently pulled. Without hesitation Hutch slowly folded over onto his friend's lap.

Hutch could feel another bout of coughs trying to worm its way up. He swallowed hard to keep them down, but one escaped. Starsky looked down and saw that Hutch was struggling to keep the coughs from occurring. Hit his chest pretty hard for this to start up. Lets just hope that's all there is.

Starsky sat with his right arm casually laid down on top of Hutch's right arm. He tenderly grabbed the blonds' arm and soothingly ran his thumb up and down the soft inside flesh of his elbow. His left hand went to the platinum head in his lap and slowly massaged it, his fingers slowly twisting, turning the golden strands around.

Again, just within a span of three week, he sat with his friend in his lap and thought how much the man meant to him. How the big blond possessed his whole being. How he got so wrapped around his heart, it was impossible at times to distinguish between whose heartbeats guided the others'. It's an entanglement of fondness and devotion.

All these years Hutch and you were always there for me. I don't know who needs who more. Whenever my mind was confused, you always seem to clear it. When I'm down, you always come and give me the strength to pick myself up again. I can always rely on you being there for me, as I will always be here for you. Let me be your strength now. Lean on me now, Hutch. Let me help you, the way you did for me. I'm here buddy.

His dependency of Hutch is one he could not live without. Hutch was the constancy, the harmony, and the steady supply of tenderness that he wanted and needed in his life. And right now, he was thinking about how much Hutch was hurting. And his own heart was breaking because of his friend's pain.

The pain Hutch was feeling, bled through to him. It seeped down into his guts, gripping and twisting them and all he wanted to do was reach down and absorb more of that pain, to relieve his friend from the agony. He also needed to relieve himself from the guilt he feels. He hated the fact the Hutch was and still is, suffering so much, physically and mentally. It just wasn't fair.

Damn Nick. How could you allow them to do this to him? You know how much he means to me. How could you do this to us? I promise Hutch, I'll make it better. I'll do everything in my power to make you feel better.

He thought of the only thing that he could that would help his friend at this moment. Even if it meant that he would have to stir a certain amount of fear in his best friend. He hated the fact that he had to do it, but knew, at this time Hutch was in need.

Hutch, please understand that I'm doing this because I love you. You're my world buddy, and I don't know how else to help ya. I don't want you to suffer. God knows that I wish I could take it from ya. But right now, it's the only thing I can do to help you. Please, just remember that I love you dearly.

"You're hurting aren't ya? Pushed yourself to far today?" The curly haired man softly asked the man who lay restlessly in his lap due to his pain. He reached out and took the big man's hand in his. He knew what kind of reaction he was about to get.

"Starsk…I…" Hutch turned slightly and looked up at him.

"It's alright babe, I'm here for ya." I'm here Hutch, here to take care of you. No matter what it takes, I just want you better. So, here we go. Please forgive me. "Think maybe you need one of those pain pills tonight?" Starsky asked while looking down at the man he treasured.

Hutch instantly tensed, inhaled sharply, closed his eyes and involuntarily squeezed Starsky's hand harder. The reaction was to be expected. There was a long silence, then, "yeah," a soft hesitating agreement came from the blond. It was almost inaudible. He looked up at the blue eyes that told him he could trust him with his insecurities about being drugged. He trusted this man with his life. He relied on him to keep him safe from harm. This was the only person that he had or ever will, totally hand his life over to.

Starsky knew right there just how much Hutch was hurting. For him to agree to take a narcotic only meant that he was in more pain then he let show.

Without hesitation or giving Hutch time to think about it, Starsky shifted slightly, Hutch raised to allow his friend to get up from underneath him. Hutch lay back down. He did hurt. More then the normal aches and pains that he suffered through the last three weeks. His right hand went up, rubbing his closed eyes. Ohgod Starsk…please…I don't know if I can do this.

Starsky walked back from the bathroom with a glass of water in one hand and one of the powerful prescribed narcotic in the other. He stood looking down at his friend. Hutch laid there looking back up at him. A look of fear had spread across the pale, waxen face.

Starsky noticed the hesitation and apprehension in Hutch. "It's alright Hutch," a soft trusting voice to his friend.

Hutch sat up, looked up at his friend, and seeing the trust and love in his friend's eyes, he slowly reached for the glass. Starsky handed him the glass, then held out his hand with the large ominous pill in it, his eyes never leaving his partner's. Hutch's hand hesitated to reach out. Starsky nodded towards the pill. His eyes telling him, 'take it'.

Hutch took a deep breath and then took the pill from him. He closed his eyes and quickly swallowed it before he changed his mind. He looked back up at Starsky and handed the glass back. Starsky sat the glass down on the coffee table and resumed his place on the couch beneath Hutch.

Hutch turned slightly to his left side and back, looking up at his best friend. His left hand tucked under Starsky's right knee. It was a tight lifeline. He knew that Starsky would never intentionally hurt him. He trusted him with his life, and so he did now. But he was scared. Scared of what the drug could do to him, to turn him into an addict. But Starsky would never let that happen. Starsky would take care of him and would be there to watch over him. Nevertheless, this was a drug and he was still scared. His eyes were glancing up looking for reassurance, to meet the comforting blues of his partner's.

Starsky could see fear creeping over his face. He placed his right hand on Hutch's chest. He could feel just how scared he was. There was a slight trimmer under his hand it was coming from the big man that was now terrified. Plain and simple …Hutch was scared. Then he saw it. A single tear had escaped the big man. With his left hand he lovingly wiped it away with his thumb.

The big man's body was already painfully torn apart and now he was emotionally broken. The pill violently tearing away the emotional scab over the forced heroin addiction in the past, removing any healing that occurred. And now he was to blame for tonight's breakdown.

"Babe…please don't. I'm going to be here. It's going to be alright," he softly reassured him. He found himself on the edge of an emotional flood. Hot tears were clogging his own throat and choking him. He had to swallow hard to push down the hot moisture that threated to take him over. God knows that he loves this man. Loves him with all his heart, mind and soul, and to cause such turmoil while trying to help him, he just hated himself for being the reason for it.

His heart was torn apart knowing that this big, self assured, brilliant cop could be brought down to such a level of despair from just one pill. For Hutch, the narcotic represented a world of lies, of desperation. A world made of shame and debasement. It was a world that Hutch couldn't put himself or his dark haired guardian through again. Starsky hated Forrest, Monk and the goons for what they had done to his friend. They had permanently scarred him emotionally.

Hutch slowly reached for the hand that so lovingly lay on his chest. He took hold of his friend's wrist, curled his long fingers around to the soft underside and held on. He could feel the heartbeat flowing through the flesh. It was a heartbeat unseen but gallantly possessing his own, a heartbeat that he would give his life for.

Scared, saddened eyes looked up. "Starsk…am I…am I going to be a junky again?" the question quivered out.

"No Hutch, you're not! And I don't ever want you to say or think of it again!" Starsky's voice rose. With the thought that his friend thought that he was going to turn into something they despised, a spike of anger went through him. He then looked down and knew from the slight look of pain from him, that he had been too sharp. He took a deep breath. He eased his voice back down.

"You know that I would never let anything like that happen to you again. It's just going to help that stubborn side of you feel better. You really pushed to far today. I don't know what point you were trying to make, but all I see is that you proved that you're still stubborn as ever." He smiled down at the man that trusted him. He then sat quietly with the big man in his lap.

Within the next minutes, the pill hit his system. Luckily for Hutch he was already laying down. A sudden wave was washing over him. It was such a sudden rush that he felt as if he was riding a runaway roller-coaster. He took a sudden deep breath. He gripped the hand he held tighter. His left hand pulled suddenly at Starsky's knee as he fought the bout of vertigo. He looked up as the room rolled and distorted. The dark of the room mixed with the soft light from the TV. The palette of colors suddenly went to grays with a swirl of umber and blue in the mix.

Starsky knew that the strong narcotic had taken control of him. A look of stunned terror washed over his friend's face. He leaned down, his mouth feather-light against the blonds' forehead. "Easy, I'm right here. I'm not leaving you." He moved his cheek down against golden strands and whispered lovingly into his right ear. "Ssshhh babe. Trust me. You're alright. I'm right here with you." He gently caressed his fingers and thumb along the left cheek and strong jaw. His right hand floated on his chest as Hutch took in short shallow breaths of panic.

Over the next staggering long minutes, everything went calm. Hutch slowly let go of his hold on Starsky's hand and leg, and his mind and body slowly shut down.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

For the next hour they sat in silence. The TV threw a soft glow across the room to them. Casablanca being aired. Humphrey Bogart strolled across the smoke filled bar. Starsky sat and watch, while Hutch glanced over at it's direction every once in a while. But he didn't really see it. It was just a light source off in the distant.

The soft haze from the pain medication made everything unimportant, with the exception of the man that lovingly watched over him. Every now and then he would glance up to his partner.

The soft feeling of nothingness invaded him. As the pill loosened up the agonizing grip the pain had on his body, he wasn't sure if he wanted to embrace it or curse it. All he knew was that those days Monk had held and had forced heroin into him, came flooding back. Please Starsky…don't let me go there again. I can't go through that again. He again looked up at those blue eyes he trusted.

"I'm right here Hutch. It's going to be alright." Starsky reassuringly down at him. He lovingly passed his knuckles over the big man's cheek. A reassuring touch that he hoped would ease some of the anxiety.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"He's from Duluth. Yes, I called the airlines. No, in the morning. Should get there tomorrow afternoon. Yeah, I got you on the last flight for tonight. You should be able to arrive before they do. Hey, I did what you wanted. This is all on you now. No, no-one knows. No, I haven't said anything to make them think otherwise. I got what you wanted. Yeah, you do that."

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

9:00 pm, and Starsky slowly guided Hutch to the bedroom. Hutch's movements swayed. Starsky slowly walked at his right side with his left arm around his waist, while his right held his friend's right hand. He stopped Hutch next to the bed and began to undress him.

"Not…invalid," Hutch slurred.

"Nope, your not. But just humor me and let me get you undressed. Not every night I get to undress a beautiful leggy blond."

"Moron," softly escaped the blond. Hutch's eyes closed, and his head hung. It took everything he had to stand. The powerful pill had allowed the pain to cease its tight grip on him, but also relaxed his whole body beyond control. He reached out and held onto Starsky's shoulder as he allowed himself to be undressed.

Starsky carefully pulled the sweatpants down, giving extra care to the wounds as he guided the waistband down. He carefully held onto Hutch's hips, he slowly let Hutch step back and out of the pants, now balled up at his feet. He sat him down on the edge of the bed and quickly finished undressing him. Hutch tried to help, but by the time he got the top button of his shirt undone, Starsky opened the rest of the shirt and was working on the sleeves.

"Come on Sleeping Beauty." Starsky carefully laid him down. He got the extra pillows packed around him, the extra support for the odd angles that he lay at to help ease the pains from the wounds. The covers were then gently spread over him. He then quickly went through the apartment and got it closed up for the night. He returned back to his partner.

Starsky slid under the covers on the far side of the bed and rolled over to his partner.

Hutch was lying slightly on his left side, away from him. He carefully scooted over next to him. Moved a pillow between them out of the way and gently reached over the big man and hugging him in close to his body, allowing Hutch to lean heavily on him instead. Starsky wanted to make sure that Hutch knew that he was there to protect him and that he felt the love that he has for him.

Do you feel me Hutch? Feel how much you mean to me? I love you Hutch. I'll always be here to care for you.

Hutch felt a sense of ease float over him. Felt its cocoon around him. Felt wrapped in his friend's love.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"I'll be there waiting. I'll be waiting for you, you nigger lover. You and that blond fairy won't know what hit you. You'll be out of your element. Away from your safety zone. And with that partner of yours hurt, it'll just make it easier. You're going to pay Starsky. Pay deeply." He slowly got up from the hard plastic chair in the terminal and boarded the last flight for the night headed east.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

6:30 very early Wednesday morning, and Starsky was parking the Torino in the parking lot across from the terminal at the airport. He had unloaded Hutch and the two large suitcases at the curb in the white loading and unloading zone. He found a spot, parked the car, got out and then sprinted back to the entrance.

Hutch stood and waited for his friend to get back to him. The prescribed pain pill he took the night before, had allowed him to sleep nearly pain free. The essence of his friend next to him, kept his night free from his own nightmares. He felt slightly rested, though 5:00am had came early, and Starsky complaining and grumbling under his breath, something about putting the person who invented early mornings and 'Red Eye' flights, in front of a firing squad. Hutch had to admit, he felt a little better.

Starsky jumped on the curb next to him. "Well, you ready for this?" He looked to his friend. The early morning sun showed Hutch looking a little better, not much, but better. He had some color back. The light almond colored shirt along with the white, four-pocket jacket helped to hide the ashen paleness that still lingered. And with cane in hand, he almost looked dashing.

"I guess I'm as ready as I will ever be," Hutch stated as he took in a deep breath.

They got the luggage checked in, and afterwards themselves. They both pulled their badges at security and after a call to higher ranking security they were cleared to board the plane with their guns. They slowly made their way to the boarding gate.

A short wait later, they were then called for boarding.

"Where we at?" Starsky asked as he looked down at the tickets for the first time.

"First class," Hutch informed him without hesitation and sidestepping his partner.

"First class? How'd we swing that?" he asked as he took a couple quick steps to catch up, still looking at the tickets.

"Didn't. Stacy did."

"Stacy?"

"She insisted. I told her 'no', but she's a Hutchinson. First class. Nothing less."

"Remind me to give her a big hug and kiss."

"She's married Starsky, remember that?" Hutch said as the stewardess approached him.

The tall blonde stewardess had spied the tall blond Viking. She smiled as she made her way over to him and slowly guided Hutch to the first class section.

She smiled down at him as she got him seated in the aisle seat. "If there's anything you need, you just let me know," her smile beaming at him.

Hutch smiled that big sweet Hutchinson smile back at her as he held her hand in what was to be a handshake, but it lingered. His free hand gently covered over hers that he held.

"I'll be sure to let you know," a soft silky voice from the man who had a weak spot for the women that flew around the world. His voice, velvet smooth and destructive, knocking down any walls the woman may have erected.

Starsky just stood and watched each of them hopelessly getting lost in the other's eyes. The brunet was fading into the background, with the rest of the world.

Starsky was glad to see that big smile on his partner's face. It had been a while since Hutch had relaxed enough to let it show.

She slowly took her hand back, turned and slowly swished back down the isle to finish boarding the rest of the passengers. She glanced back at him a couple times as she made her way down the isle. Mother Nature was playing boy and girl with them.

Starsky slid around Hutch who was preoccupied watching the curves of the pretty blonde sway side to side, and sat down in the window seat. He sat and watched as his friend returned to this world. Hutch turned and looked at him "What?"

"Hutchinson, you didn't even get her name, and I bet you already have the first child named."

"It's a long flight Starsk. Got time."

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

The early morning sun was just trying to wake up the city for a new day. Captain Dobey had just settled into his chair when the call came through. With sleep not too long from escaping his eyes, something told him it was going to be a very long day. He sat the coffee cup down, and reached for the phone.

"Captain Dobey." He sat back into his leather chair.

"Harold, its Trent Walker," the LAPD captain told him.

"Well good morning."

"How are those two detectives of yours doing?"

"They're doing alright. I get Starsky back riding a desk at the beginning of next week," instantly knowing that the LA captain was referring to his best team.

"And his partner?" Trent asked with genuine concern for the Bay City detective.

"No, Hutchinson is still out."

"Is he doing better? Had us worried."

"Yes, he had us all scared for a few days. But he's getting better. What can I do for you?" Dobey asked as he had a feeling that this wasn't a social call.

"I'm calling to ask about an officer that you had a year ago. A rookie. Raymond T. Andrew."

"Sure I remember Officer Andrew. He was transferred after an incident resulting in the death of a civilian."

"I believe bigotry had been involved?" Captain Walker tried to reconfirm his suspicion.

"Right, bigotry was involved." Dobey confirmed.

"He had been transferred after a suspension and investigation?"

"That's right LAPD. You have him under your command?"

"Yes. We have an investigation running on him."

"An investigation?" Dobey's voice showed that he wasn't too surprised.

"We've had a few comments and some unusual behavior from him." The LA captain didn't go into detail. "I need to know if you can quietly ask around your precinct about something. It seems that he's been in contact with someone there at Metro."

"Sure, I can ask around. Who's involved?"

The captain rose so suddenly that he almost tipped his big leather chair over. "Say that again! Are you sure?" The captain's voice roared out.

"Yeah. Seems your two detectives Starsky and Hutchinson are the targets. Andrew has been asking around here for about a month now. No-one really paid too much attention no-one out here really knows the detectives personally. He's been getting more and more aggressive during the past three weeks though. Detective Hansen brought it to my attention. I've put Hansen on it, since he knows your two men. I'm sending him over with all the information we have so far. "

"Of course. Send him over. I'll get on it right now." Dobey couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You may want to let your two men know what's going on."

"I'll try to contact them. They left for Duluth this morning."

"Duluth? Andrews left last night on a flight that took him to Minnesota." Captain Walker's voiced raised with alarm.

"Last night? Damn it! I'll get back to you."

The phone was violently slammed down. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

Minnie, she knows what's going on around this place.

The captain walked around his desk to the door that separated the offices. He glanced over at the officers in the room.

"Racherty! Have you seen Minnie this morning?" Dobey growled out to his detective that was seated at one of the desks.

"Yes Sir. She and Bigalow just headed back down to Supply."

Dobey snatched up the phone that sat between Starsky and Hutch's desk. "Get me Supply."

"Bigalow, Captain Dobey. Is Minnie still with you down there? Tell her I need her in my office. Yes, right now!" Dobey again slammed down the phone. Everyone in the office took notice that there was trouble. They started to give each other a look of caution and concern.

Dobey retreated into his office. The door closed abruptly.

He looked down at his watch. Their plane just took off. At least they're safe there for now.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

An hour into the flight, Hutch stirred in his seat. The pressure on his right butt cheek started to send pain shooting up his back. His chest and hip too, protesting from sitting too long. It did not go unnoticed by Starsky.

"Hutch, instead of squirming, why don't you take a lap up and down the aisle? You need to stretch your legs a little bit."

Hutch sighed heavily next to him. "Yeah, that might be a good idea." Hutch straightened himself, reached for the cane and prepared to get up. Jessie Coblin noticed and made her why over to him.

"Mr. Hutchinson, is there anything I can help you with?" The now acquainted blonde stewardess asked.

Starsky watched the smile across Hutch's face brighten up. Yep, buddy you go down that heartache road again.

She stepped aside as Hutch gingerly got his tall frame up from the seat. Even with being seated in First Class, the legroom was just shy of being completely comfortable for him. He had to stretch them out, and Ms. Coblin was all too happy to lend a hand.

Hutch turned, smiled down at his partner, then, with the shapely blonde at his arm, he began a slow trip up and down the aisle. Starsky just sat, shook his head and went back to reading the magazine that held little interest for him.

As Hutch stretched his long legs, a couple stray coughs escaped. Starsky, his subconscious on Hutch alert, noticed it. That didn't sound too good buddy. He also made a mental note that Hutch had also foregone his breakfast. He had only shared a small glass of juice with him. Hutch had just waved off the rest of the meal.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Minnie sprinted upstairs to Captain Dobey's office. The door was open and she entered.

"Captain?"

"Close the door." The captain ordered pacing uneasily behind his desk. She stepped back and gently closed it.

"I need some information."

"Yes Sir, whatever I can do to help," sensing the captain was deeply troubled about something.

"We have a problem. Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson are in trouble again!"

The captain said as he tried to sort out what could have caused the new commotion in their lives.

"Sir? I don't understand. They just showed up here yesterday and they seemed to be fine," Minnie said in disbelief.

"What I need to know is, has anyone around this place asked questions about those two? Mainly during the past month?" The big black man sat back down in his chair.

Minnie thought back over the past few weeks. "Sir, the only person that I encountered lately who was asking about them, is Jeanna Roberts, the new girl at the switchboard. She stopped me yesterday. It was right after the guys had left. She mentioned that she just saw them and was inquiring how they were."

"That's it? Nothing else?"

"She did seem to be a little infatuated with Hutch. Was asking about where he was from. Said she loved tall blonds. Then she asked where Starsky was from. She already seemed to know that answer."

"And what did you tell her about Hutchinson?"

"She asked if he was from Minnesota. I told her yes. But that's common knowledge. Then she asked what part, because she wanted to go visit the city he came from. I told her Duluth. I then stopped the conversation immediately. Did I do anything wrong?"

"No. But we do have a problem."

"Yes Sir, what would that be?"

"You remember that rookie, Raymond Andrew? Transferred out a year back. Now out at LAPD."

"Sure. He was the tall blond rookie that shot Starsky and Hutch's friend, the black gentleman. Said it was self defense. Everyone was upset. A white cop needlessly killed a black civilian. What can I do?"

"I want you to go down to I.A. and pull his file. Then I want the file on this Jeanna Roberts as well. I want everything you can dig up. Quietly. Then report back to me as soon as you can."

"They're in danger again?" Her concern for the two detectives showed.

"Let's hope not. Let's hope that we can stop this before it goes any further. Detective Hansen from LAPD is on his way over with their file of the investigation."

"I'm on my way Sir." Minnie stepped to the door and quickly exited the office. Her pace was picking up speed as she made her way down the hall.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Three hours into the flight and Hutch was feeling miserable and tired. As much as he tried, he just couldn't get comfortable. He had taken a couple of the Tylenol that he had brought with him. They just made him groggy. He tried to keep his mind occupied with Ms. Coblin, but the pain overriding even the thoughts of a pretty stewardess. As much as his mind wanted, his battered body was unforgiving. He gave up.

"Hey Hutch, you ever thought about us traveling to exotic countries?" Starsky leaned over close, as he flipped through the travel magazine that had been provided on the plane, holding it up to show Hutch a picture of a tropical forest over looking a white sandy beach. A couple scantly clothed girls waving into the camera.

Hutch rolled his head on the headrest to the right. "Starsk…?" His voice was soft and a bit distressed.

Starsky looked at his partner. Hutch's face had dulled back to a paler haze. He knew the long flight was taking its toll and Hutch was suffering. "Come on buddy, let's trade places. We still have an hour before landing. You need to close your eyes for a while. There's no-one behind me so you can lie back some more."

"Starsky I'm alright. I…I can't…"

Starsky, knowing Hutch guarded his frailty against the public's eye, he leaned closer to his partner "Hutch, people take a nap on planes all the time. It helps passing the time. No-one will think otherwise," he softly said to him.

Starsky got up. "Come on," he held out his hand.

Looking up, being defeated by his concerned partner and his pain filled body Hutch took it, raised up and scooted over into the window seat. Starsky reached up into the overhead compartment for a pillow and blanket. He sat down and handed the pillow to Hutch. Hutch reclined the chair as far as he could, shifted his weight to the left side and curled up next to him as best as he could. He propped the pillow against Starsky's shoulder and closed his eyes. Starsky spread out the blanket and shared it with him. Hutch, reaching out under the blanket, took hold of the brunet's arm. He needed that physical reassuring touch.

"Right here buddy," Starsky softly whispered to him as he patted the hand that held his arm.

A short time later, the quiet hissing of the cabin air, lured Hutch into a deep sleep. His mind and body slowly relaxed into a soft rhythm as his breathing slowed and his mind shut down.

S/H++S/H++S/H++S/H

Captain Dobey sat fuming over the possibility that his two detectives were once again in danger.

He wanted to pick up the phone and call the airport that his detectives would be landing at, but he needed to make sure that he had all the facts in the case.

He pulled out his black book he kept emergency phone numbers in. He flipped to the H's. He found Hutchinson's parent's address and phone number. He laid it down, the page with the information ready. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to use it.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Detective Phil Hansen made his way to Captain Dobey's office. The last time he was there at Metro, three weeks earlier, it was to deliver Hutch's belongings from the mine and to give the Bay City captain reports pertaining to the kidnapping of the two detectives.

Since meeting the two men, he had come to know them as two highly intelligent and street savvy cops, but there was a slight cockiness about them, mixed with a lighter side. A mixture that made them stand out from any other pair of detectives. They also just happened to have a strong personal and over protective bond to each other. There was something about the two, drawing you into their world and taking your breath away.

He had phoned a couple times with Starsky to check to see how they were faring. The two detectives sowed an immediate friendship. They hoped to meet again at the drag-racing track and rerun the race. Both were boasting about their abilities and their cars.

With the file in hand, he reached Captain Dobey's office and knocked on the door.

The Bay City captain bellowed out for him to enter.

Hansen slowly opened the door. This wasn't the kind of visit that he was looking forward to. He walked through the door, and then slowly closed it behind himself. "Captain Dobey," he acknowledged the Bay City Captain.

At the same time Minnie had quickly made her way back up to the captain's office. She entered from the squad room door. She closed the door behind her as well.

"Captain, I got those file for you," she said as she walked over to the captain's desk.

"Minnie, you remember Detective Phil Hansen? He's from LAPD."

"Sure I do. You were the officer that found Starsky and Hutch at the mine. I want to thank you for all you've done for them." She smiled up at the big man. She offered her hand.

Phil switched the file in his hands and took the petite woman's hand.

"Glad to meet you," he said to her.

"Alright, what have we come up with?"

Phil handed the black commander the file and Minnie handed over the two files that she had, too.

"You two sit. Minnie I want you to help too. You already know what's going on." The captain laid out the files in front of him.

The three slowly and carefully went over the files. Each was looking at all details and connections.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Just over an hour later the plane started its descent. The slight bounce from turbulence woke Hutch. He sat up straight. "We there?" He blinked a couple times.

"Yeah. We've got a short layover then a short hop to Duluth. You feeling better?" Starsky patted him on the thigh. He got a long look Hutch did look a little better. The power nap had helped. Some color was back in his cheeks.

"Think so," the blond let out a big yawn.

"Good. Your new friend stopped by to see how you were doing."

"And?"

"And I told her that you were up at a party all night and needed your rest," the brunet teased.

"Always looking out for me aren't ya?"

"Anything for my buddy."

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky stood off to the side as Hutch and Ms. Jessie Coblin exchanged numbers. A big smile being exchanged between both blonds as they departed in different directions. The stewardess continued her flight, as Hutch had to catch a different one.

Hutch made his way back to his partner.

"Well?" the inquisitive shorter man asked.

"Well what?" A big smile crossed the taller man's face.

"Oh, you can't play that innocent game with me. I know you better then that buddy boy. The two of you exchanged numbers. She'll call when she is in town and the two of you are set for a weekend with dinner and a show, then a quiet time at the apartment." Starsky slowly got them walking to their next boarding gate.

"Yep," was all the tall, golden haired man said as he smiled. Starsky just shook his head, put a big grin on his face and walked slowly next to his partner.

"That's my buddy. Still beautiful with twisted steel and sex appeal," he softly said.

The two men again boarded a plane. This time it was for a short forty five minute hop.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Captain Dobey looked over the notes he had made over the past few hours. Detective Hansen had provided information that he had gathered in LA, and the files that Minnie had brought up, also seemed to come up with no real definitive evidence.

"Would you like some more coffee?" Minnie had asked as she got up from the chair, the left one, Hutch's usual that he sat in.

"No thank you," Detective Hansen told her. She glanced over at her captain.

"No thanks," the frustrated captain told her.

She reached for the door knob to the joining office. She opened it and looked at the empty desk in front of her. Starsky and Hutch's desk sat clutter free. No piles of folders or magazines scattered across it. The empty chairs tucked neatly under the edge of the table, waiting for the partners to return. She got a sudden empty feeling in her gut.

What would happen if only one was to return? If Hutch was harmed or killed, Starsky would be out of his mind. That was it! She turned back to the office.

"Captain. Starsky is Jewish and has befriended the black community. Right?"

"So?"

"So, from what Detective Hansen told us, Andrew has been stating racial and religious slurs and comments out there, just as he had here. So a bigot is against anyone that thinks differently from their own way of thinking. What if something happened to Hutch? Starsky would go crazy, right? He'd go out of his mind. Maybe that's what Andrew wants, to see a Jew suffer. From his point of view Starsky was responsible for the suspension and transfer. The show of control and pulling seniority at the scene of the shooting, Starsky was basically putting Andrew in his place. That must have put a thorn in Andrew's side. So he thinks Starsky is responsible for his lack of promotion. For Starsky to pay back, he needs to take away what's the most important thing in Starsky's life."

"That would be Hutch. Andrew wants Starsky to suffer, so he's been asking around about Hutch. He wanted to get information that he could use to take Hutch out." The captain stated as the realization hit him.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"Hey? What are we doing for wheels? You have someone picking us up?" Starsky asked as he searched for their luggage after landing.

"No. Stacy said that she was going to talk to Dad and have my car dropped off here. I just have to pick up the keys."

"Your car? What do you mean your car? You never told me you had a car here." Starsky looked at his partner and friend with a question on his face.

"Yes Starsky, I have a car here that is stored at my parent's house." And now I'm going to have to explain things to you. Please try to understand. I love you buddy and would never deceive you about anything.

Starsky spotted their luggage as it rounded the carousal. He plucked both of the large suitcases as they slowly moved along. Hutch had walked over to the desk and was handed an envelope. Starsky walked up behind him.

"Just leave them. They're going to be delivered to the house. Someone is picking them up here in a few minutes." Hutch indicated towards the two pieces of luggage in Starsky's hands.

"What?"

"Someone is taking them to the house for us."

"Why?"

"Starsky, just leave them here. It'll be alright." You'll soon understand way. Hutch turned and walked towards for the doors, leaving no room for questions.

"Alright." Starsky blinked and cocked his head to the side, puzzled. Defeated in a one sided argument, he put them down next to the desk. The man behind the desk smiled and put the two suitcases to the side.

"Thank you," Starsky told him as he turned in the direction that his partner went.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Captain Dobey looked down at his watch. He made some calculation and figured that his detectives would be landing at the Duluth airport shortly. He picked up the phone. He looked over onto the scrap piece of paper he had written phone numbers down on. He dialed the number that he was looking for. It would connect him with Duluth Airport security.

"Hello. I need to talk to your commanding officer. Yes it's an emergency. This is Captain Dobey, Bay City PD California. Yes I'll hold."

"I hope that we can get to this son-of-a-bitch before he gets to our guys," he said to the two people that sat across from him. Minnie and Detective Hansen both looked at each other.

"Yes Sir, Lieutenant Myers? This is Captain Dobey, Bay City Police Department out here in California. We have a situation possibly occurring at your airport shortly. We're running an investigation and it involves two of my officers that will be landing at your airport."

Captain Dobey explained the investigation to the lieutenant and his concern for his two men. He gave him a description of both Starsky and Hutch, and one of Officer Andrew.

"Yes Sir. I understand your concern. I'll have a couple of my men do a sweep of the terminal. This is an open airport. I don't see why this Andrew would cause a problem he would be doing it in public." Lieutenant Myers informed the Bay City captain.

"I just want to make sure my men safe Lieutenant. You have my number. I want a call after they arrive." Dobey growled into the phone.

"And Lieutenant," Captain Dobey added, "my men are highly skilled in their job. They're the best team this department has. If you happen to come across any situation that includes my men, and you see that they are in control of it, I'd advise you wait. Yes I understand that they are out of their Jurisdiction, but I'm telling you, they can handle themselves. Do you understand?" Dobey said driving the point across.

"Yes Sir I understand," the Minnesota officer said a little discontent.

"Thank you. I'll expect a call." Dobey abruptly hung up the phone.

"Now all we can do is wait." The big burly man sighed with great concern in his voice. He sat back in his big leather chair.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

The grey afternoon was cool and wet. A cold, light mist softly fell on them. Hutch stopped on the curb as a couple cars drove by. Starsky came up next to him and looked over the lot full of cars, and the three story parking garage across from them. He tried to see if he could find the most dilapidated one out there. Find the one that fit his partner's style.

"Alright Hutchinson, where ya parked?"

"First level of the garage." He stepped off the curb and as quickly as he could went straight into the parking garage.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

A tall lanky man stood behind a building pillar watching the two out-of-town detectives gather their things. He watched as the big Midwestern walked to the concierge's desk and was handed an envelope.

He quickly moved to a darker area of the parking garage. He moved undetected behind the rows of cars as the two detectives walked into the garage.

"I've got you now Starsky. A little bit more and that blond partner of yours is mine. I'm going to take away your world." He slithered back against the wall in the dark.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"OK, so are you going to tell me which one it is, or do I just pick one?" The brunet asked as they walked. He scanned across a wide range of old and new cars and trucks. They continued to make their way through the rows of cars.

"Well?" He asked again as they reached the backside of the parking garage.

"It's right in front of you Starsk," Hutch mentioned as he slowed his pace as they reached the back of the parking deck. His father making sure that the car was parked out of harms way, in a secluded spot that most people would opt against, too far from their flight.

Starsky was in stride with him until Hutch came to a stop in front of a tuxedo black, 1967 Corvette Sting Ray L88 Roadster. His breath caught. He had read about the car in his car magazines. It was built for the speed of the race track. Very few had been built for the public. And yet here one sat. "Nice joke Hutch. No seriously, where's your car?" He looked around back at the direction that they had came from, then back at the black car with the blue stinger hood scoop. The chrome side-exhaust pipes ran along the bottom. The hard top was still on, the weather still too chilly with a light mist for an open ride. The car looked as if it just came out of a show room floor. Pristine. Hutch just stood and stared at him.

"Starsky…this is my car." Hutch then walked to the driver's door and unlocked it.

"What? Just wait one damn minute! Let me get this straight Kenneth Richard Hutchinson!" He stood stunned looking at the car. He abruptly turned to his partner.

"You insist that rusted heap of a rolling garbage can you own back home is a car!" His voice raised in disbelief and resentment. His hands joining in the tirade that he was giving the tall blond. His lips pinched tight momentarily. "You make me suffer all those hours, no days, no wait…years, in that tin can and yet, here it is you own a 'Vette. And not just any Corvette. A Sting Ray Roadster. An L88 Hutch! Do you even know the history of this car? Hutchinson…I'm at a loss for words. I just don't know my own partner, of how many years now? I can't even count right now. And yet here we are. I thought we didn't have secrets from each other Kenneth Hutchinson!" Starsky's mind was doing a hundred miles a minute.

"And another thing Hutchinson…" a hard pointed finger was thrust up at the blond, "you get over there and hurt my feelings by calling my car a hunk of junk. Well, I guess compared to this," throwing both hands out at the car, "every car on the road would be junk!" His tone had turned ugly and had hit hard. He turned back to his partner. He glared at the tall blond.

Stung, Hutch stood with a frown. His stance slowly slumped. He leaned heavily on the cane. His right hand went to his face and slowly rubbed his temple. A deep rooted headache had snuck in. The look of pain and anger at his friend's face, it shook him deep in his core. His heart started to hurt. This wasn't going the way he had hoped.

Starsky knew that he had come from money. But he never really divulged just how much. It wasn't that he was keeping it a secret it was that he wanted to leave it in the backside of his life. It was a life that he had walked away from. It was a life that his parents live, but not him. But ignoring the past didn't make it go away either. Now he was going to have to explain it to the most important person in his life. He should have told him, years ago. Because the last thing he wanted was a fight, and he sure didn't want to hurt his friend. But now he could see, he had made a major mistake. He hoped that Starsky would understand.

"Starsky…please, it's no big deal. It's just a car." Hutch stood looking at his hurt partner.

"No big deal? Yes Hutchinson, it is a very big deal! And NO, it's not just a car Hutchinson, it's a Sting Ray!" He pointed at the car that out ranked his own. To Starsky, this car was in a league of its own, one that was at the top and looked down at all others. The high powered car could easily out run and out maneuver his Torino. The car was designed for one thing, making a statement. That statement was, 'Money and Power'.

Hutch took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. Here we go. "Listen Starsky, this car is part of my past, alright? Dad bought it for me when I entered into medical school. It was his way of saying how proud he was of me." He dropped his eyes to the ground, his voice soft, "about the only way he ever showed that he was proud of me for that matter, and that no son of his was going to drive around in something less." He looked back up at his friend, "yes I know the history of this car. Dad made sure I know about it and that it's top of the line. Yes I enjoyed it. But that's not me anymore Starsky. Understand? Its part of my past," his voice soft and full of sudden remorse.

Hutch looked deep into the eyes of the man that he has spent the last eight years with. The man that he loved dearly, hoping that his best friend would understand. His own emotions were on the edge now.

"So what other secrets do you have that you're not telling me?" Starsky stood looking at his partner that he thought he knew. His arms crossed tight across his chest. His stance was that of someone who had been deceived. This wasn't how they operated. They never held back anything from each other. Their lives were an open field. There was nothing to hide from the other. At least that's what he thought.

"Starsky…listen, I'm not hiding any secrets from you. There's going to be a lot here that may surprise you about my past. Things that I want to stay in the past. I have a new life, a life as a cop. A life that not everyone here is to keen on me having. I have a life with you and that is something that my family has to except. And if they can't, then we're out of here. I never wanted to hurt you. Starsk…please, this is my past, not my life now. My life is with you, in our world." He paused, his emotions started to bubble to the surface.

"Please…try to…" He stopped with a desperate look that he needed him to understand crossed his face. "Please? You know that I wouldn't lie to you or deceive you." The pain that he had just inflicted on his best friend and partner boomeranged back at himself and stabbed him in the heart. "Sorry Starsk, I just….I'm sorry." A sense of dread went piercing his heart. He reached out and took Starsky's elbow. He needed that physical contact. The need to soothe the hurt that he was sure they both were feeling at the moment, mainly the hurt that he had inflected on his soulmate.

Please understand. He pleaded with him silently. Hutch hoped that he was able to get through to the curly haired man that he has moved on with his life. He looked for a sign that he understood.

Starsky looked into those blue eyes that meant the world to him and saw that his best friend needed him to understand, to understand that his life wasn't here anymore. His life was with him in his world. Hutch needed him to be his friend and not judge him. There was going to be enough of that from his father. Hutch had a past. One that Hutch had been quiet about. And the car sitting in front of him, he guessed, was just the tip of the iceberg. But it really came down to that Hutch needed him to be a friend and to be understanding. Plain and simple, to love him anyways, past and all.

Starsky took in a deep breath and let it slowly escape out. He softened his stance. He dropped his arms. He closed the distance between them and stood within a half a breath from him. He reached out and lovingly took hold of his friend's neck, ran his hand up into satin strands of gold and gave a soft tug. Hutch closed his eyes. The touch electrified through him. The physical connection washed away any emotional pain that was just inflicted. Everything was now alright between them. Any animosity between them instantly erased. He opened his eyes and saw a softer look on his partner's face.

"Alright Blondie, but I drive," Starsky said, his mood instantly changed to that of a kid in a toy store that just discovered the major treasure. He squeezed past Hutch and slowly dropped down into the soft leather seat. Hutch took that for a sign his friend understood. He took in a deep breath and smiled. He handed the keys down to his now excited partner.

Starsky softly palmed his hand around the wooden steering wheel. He sat and looked around, taking in the powerful sports car. Hutch turned and slowly made his way around to the passenger side of the car.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky's peripheral vision caught a movement to his left he glanced out of the still open driver's door as a tall slender man quickly came towards them. But it was Hutch who seemed to be the target. His cop instincts and memory instantly told him he knew this man that had a determined look on his face. A ghost from his past, about a year ago. Andrew. What's he doing here? Why's he coming…? He caught the sight of a gun. Oh shit! Hutch!

"Huuuttch!" Starsky yelled out as he turned in the seat looking out of the passenger side window to see where his partner was. Seeing that Hutch hadn't made it around to the passenger door yet, he scrambled to get out of the car.

Before Starsky could get out of the car, Andrew had roughly grabbed Hutch from behind, throwing Hutch off balance. Spinning him back around, so that they were facing the car again. The cane went flying. Hutch was forced to take a couple heavy steps with his right leg to balance himself. An involuntary yelp came from the big blond as sheer pain shot up from his leg as his weight was abruptly shifted acutely to the right. His breath was instantly taken by the hot piercing pain. Hutch's mind then registered the gun in his back, and the tight grip on his throat. His right hand instantly found the handle of the Magnum.

Andrew hid behind the big Midwesterner, using Hutch as a shield. Putting Hutch between him and any attempt Starsky could make.

"Pull it real slow Hutchinson, and toss it!" The Andrew growled into Hutch's ear, his grip on his throat tightened and the metal pressed harder into his spine just to emphasize the point.

'If you value his life, you won't draw any attention.' Cole's voice from three weeks earlier screamed. Hutch's mind flashed back to the race track and the night of the kidnapping.

'Value his life.' Hutch looked over at his partner who stood on the far side of the car.

"Ohgod…Hutch!" Starsky had climbed out the car and found that his world was threatened again.

Starsky had instantly pulled and aimed his gun over the top of the car, and was slowly making his way around the backend of the car. The 9mm aimed deadly at the man's head that held captive and threatened his partner. The sound of his partner in pain shot to his heart. Hutch's safety and wellbeing overruled everything else. His mind in tunnel vision, and that was solely focused on Hutch.

Hutch's head spun from the pain, the view in front of him leaned and twisted slightly.

Hutch slowly lifted the small cannon from its holster. He hesitated. Not again, not this again, he thought to himself. Flashbacks from the track went racing through his head.

He sucked in a strangled breath and concentrated on his partner. Two sets of blue eyes locked momentarily, as Starsky was slowly making his way around the car. A blink and an almost undetected eye movement from Starsky told him what to do.

To anyone else, the movement was nothing. To Hutch it spoke volumes of communication. Move to the left or right, go around back or take the front, high or low, and of 'I've got your back buddy.' He held out the small cannon and tossed it a calculated couple of feet to his left and slightly behind himself. His eyes never leaving his partner's trusted blues.

S/H+++S/H+++SH+++S/H

Lieutenant Myers and two of his men slowly walked across the terminal, slowly scanning for the two California detectives. He looked up at the arrival and departure board and saw that their plane had already landed. They made their way over to the concierge's desk.

"Bob, have you seen a couple of men. One brunet and another tall blond, walking with a cane? A Starsky and Hutchinson?"

"Yes Sir. They just dropped off their luggage that's being picked up. I handed Mr. Hutchinson an envelope. It contained car keys. Then they went to the garage. First deck, left backside."

"How long ago was this?"

"Not too long, about five minutes."

"Thank you." The officers then headed out to the parking garage.

The three officers walked to the side entrance of the parking garage and made their way to the back of the garage. They saw and heard the commotion developing in the back of the parking deck. Myers stopped his men, and then waved them too silently to move around to either side. He positioned himself so that he was unseen, but able to see and hear the scene unfolding in front of him.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"Drop it Starsky! Back off! I'll put a hole in him, so help me God! He's a fucking dead man!" Andrew yelled out.

"You don't want to do that!" Starsky slowly stepped around the car. I've got him Hutch. He mentally sent out the message. His line of sight was down the barrel of the automatic and onto the head of the man that held his world captive. It then went to his partner.

"Yes I do! You did this Starsky! It's your fault! Everything that has happened is your fault! So now you have to pay. You need to suffer as much as I have!"

Talk it through Starsky. Talk to him first. Hutch sent back the reply with his eyes.

"Listen Andrew, we haven't done anything to you. Just let Hutch go."

"NO! You need to suffer, and if that means that he dies, then that's what's going to happen! I'm going to put a fucking bullet in him, right here in front of you! You're going to watch Starsky! You're going to watch your world come to an end. Just like mine did, all because of you."

"Why don't you tell me what I've done, and lets talk about it. You don't want to hurt him." He took another slow but calculated step.

"Don't fucking try any of that bullshit with me Jew. You know exactly what it was you did. I had every right to defend myself against that nigger in the alley. That was my collar. You got over there and showed your ass. You think that you're all high and mighty. How does it feel now? Now, I'm in control! You're the one who's going to suffer now!" Andrew stepped back, pulling Hutch with him as Starsky slowly advanced.

"I'm taking something away from you. Just like you did." To show that he meant what he said, he raised the gun, and jabbed it at Hutch's head. The hammer of the pistol was pulled back. Talking was now over. The situation now went from an emotional snapped cop, to that of a criminal with murder on his mind. He was not a cop anymore, just a vengeful person that was about to commit murder.

"I don't understand. What did I take from you?" Starsky stopped a few feet away from the backside of the car, still trying to keep the conversation going. He calculated the position of Hutch's gun on the ground and the position of Hutch and his captor. He slowly moved, forcing Andrew to move with him. It was providing Hutch with the position and angle that he was going to need.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Bay City detective saw movement. A small flash of light reflected from metal came from around the side of a pillar. Then two more moved behind either side of the man that stood holding his partner. The Duluth officers slowly had made their way around the backside of the man that held a gun to another man's head.

Starsky could see that Hutch wasn't going to last much longer. Even in the dim light of the garage, he could see that Hutch's color had turned into bone-white. The blood drained from his face. There were beads of sweat that started to glisten on his brow. The hold that Andrew had on his throat was restricting the much needed air from his lungs. Hutch's lungs fought for every bit of air they could get. His chest heaved. 'Hold on Hutch. For God's sake Hutch, hold on.'

The tip of the gun jammed harder into Hutch's temple. A hiss escaped from the big blond. Hutch involuntarily shut his eyes against the pain as the gun pressed deeper into the side of his head. The connection from the eyes that he trusted momentarily disconnected.

Starsky's heart raged. This was the other half of his heart, his soul, his life. To inflict pain on Hutch meant to inflict pain on him.

"I lost everything 'cause of you Jew. My wife left and took the baby with her because of the suspension and transfer. Said that I wasn't worth spit! All because of a fucking Jew nigger lover, I lost everything! So now you will! I know how much this faggot means to you. So I'm taking him out of your life!" Andrew spat out loudly.

'You're out of his life.' Michael's voice from the mine hit Hutch. His mind was going back to the black hole again. 'You're not wanted around him, you faggot.' He involuntarily flinched. He could feel the cold air that surrounded him in the mine, beginning to envelope him now. Cold and damp. The black void that had held him captive was starting to reach for him now. His heart was pounding his chest. This can't be happening again. Starsky…

Hutch took in another strangled breath. His eyes took a quick glance to the calculated position of his gun on the ground. His eyes went back to his partner. His vision started to blur. The buzzing in his ears started to get louder. The view of his partner in front of him grew farther and farther away. Small sparks of lights started to flicker in front of his eyes. The pain in his leg and chest screamed. His chest was tight, fighting for air. He clenched his strong jaw, trying to ease back the pain. His mind desperately trying to stay focused on his partner. He knew he had to do something, and fast, or he was going to pass out.

Starsky…I can't stand like this much longer. So here it goes. With a slight blink and an almost undetected nod to Starsky, Hutch announced his move.

Alright Hutch. I've got him covered. When you're ready buddy.

Hutch took in as much air as he could, held it, and then made his move. The big Nordic took a swift step to the left, twisting and his right arm coming up batting away Andrew's hand with the gun. A shot rang out. Hutch fell hard in the vicinity of his gun. He grabbed it, rolled over and raised the gun, all in one quick, clean move.

Starsky was ready. He took Hutch's cues that he was about to make his move. The brunet cop braced himself. In a blink of an eye Hutch made his move, leaving Andrew an open target. A shot rang out as Hutch had moved.

Starsky squeezed off a shot, hitting the tall lanky man in the left shoulder. The impact threw Andrew backwards, landing him on his ass. In a desperate move, the LA cop raised his gun towards the blond detective. He quickly pulled the trigger again. The bullet whizzed millimeters past Hutch's head and pierced the wall directly behind him. Cement flew in all directions with the bullet's impact. Instantly there was the unmistakable roar of Hutch's small cannon. The garage echoed with the massive sound. Andrew was hit again, this time in the upper chest. His body was thrown the rest of the way to the ground.

Starsky saw that his partner was sitting up and conscious. Secure the scene first. The cop inside his head told him. Starsky rushed over to the man that lay on the cold cement. He reached down and took the gun from his hand. The Duluth officers rushed in, guns drawn, to the man on the ground, and stood over him. Starsky kneeled down on one knee. He pulled his badge and quickly held it out to the officers, then placed it back in his back pocket as he looked down at the man dying on the ground.

"Andrew, it didn't have to end like this," Starsky told the man that looked up at him with hate filled eyes.

"He needs to die. Only then will you suffer. He needs to die…for you to suffer." With that, the man took in a rasping last breath. The air slowly escaped back out. Hutch's aim was lethal.

Hutch looked down the long barrel of his gun at the scene in front of him. He slowly lowered his weapon to his lap. He took in a breath as deep as he could, his throat raw. His lungs grasping for the air he took in. The walls started to spin. Damn it.

Again, he had taken the life of another officer. Just a couple of years earlier, it was a veteran detective named Phil Corman. It took Hutch months before he was able to get over it and accepted the fact that he had killed a fellow officer, though it was justified. This time, a cop named Raymond T. Andrew. Again justified, but nevertheless, he had taken another cop's life. But something was different this time. He didn't feel remorse about it. He didn't feel distress. He felt…relief. He wasn't a victim…again. These emotions confused him. And right now his body was aching, pounding its pain into his head.

His heart drummed a frantic rhythm against his ribs. His lungs were painfully sucking in the desperately needed air. He leaned over to the left to get the pressure off his right buttock. He locked eyes with his partner. "Starsk…?" he weakly rasped out.

Starsky turned and looked at his partner. Andrew's words echoed in his head. 'He needs to die…for you to suffer.' Yes, he would suffer the ultimate pain. Hutch's death would have killed him. The world as he knew it would have been extinguished. If Hutch was to be lost from the physical world, well…it was just something he hoped that he would never have to experience. When you share the same soul, you are bonded, in this world and into the next. The one soul was the unseen possession both of them shared.

He got to his feet, rushed over to his friend and squatted down next to him. He looked deep into the blue eyes that belonged to his beloved friend.

Starsky cupped his face in one hand and held his shoulder with the other. He looked Hutch over to make sure there wasn't a bullet hole. There wasn't. He tenderly lifted Hutch's chin then slowly pulled open the top of his shirt collar to check his neck. There were three large red pressure marks just to the right of his vocal cords, and a large one to the left. He cringed. He straightened out the collar and his left hand reaching around and gently caressed the back of the blonds' neck.

He bent down and pressed his brow to the platinum blond head for just a quick reconnection. He took in a deep breath and with it the familiar scent which was Hutch. It was the light smell of his herbal shampoo and sandalwood. He straightened himself and looked deep into the eyes of his partner that he had promised to always keep safe. 'I'm sorry buddy.' A soft apology went out. "Hutch…you alright?" he lightly asked.

"Oh…great, just great Starsk," he forced out. He shifted his weight slightly. He looked up at his dark haired worrier. "I'm having a lovely day. And how's yours?" He hoarsely said and coughed as he rubbed his throat with his right hand as the left propped him up from the ground. His surroundings were slowly coming to a stop from spinning.

Relieved at the slight attempt of humor from him, "Well let's see…" Starsky sat down on the cold pavement next to him, "I was dragged out of bed at some godawful hour, sat on a plane for hours, then almost had my best buddy blown away. I'd say it's going as well as expected." He leaned over towards him, rubbing shoulders, "that's a nice car ya got there buddy," he stated looking at the car parked a few feet in front of them. "Now I know why no luggage. Lacking trunk space."

Hutch cleared his throat, though that sent a prickle of pain through him. "Thanks. She's all yours the next few days. Just don't get attached. She goes back into storage on Sunday." He reached over and laid his hand on the brunet's leg. Starsky gave him a smile.

Lieutenant Myers walked over to the two detectives. He had stood and watched the darker haired man and the blond. The touches between the two threw him off a bit. The Bay City captain had said that they were the best team they had. But just how close was this team? He decided that it didn't really matter. They had handled themselves by the book. Unfortunately a man died, but it was self defense. His men and himself had witnessed the exchange and the two officers had done everything they could before it escalated, resulting in the death of the assailant. "Sirs, are you two alright?"

"Yeah. Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson, Bay City PD, California," Starsky told him.

"Lieutenant Myers, Duluth PD. Yes Sir, I already know who you are. We received a call from you commanding officer, Captain Dobey I believe was his name. He informed us of your arrival, and the situation with this man, Officer Andrew from LAPD. "

"Yeah, that would be him. Dobey called you?" Starsky looked up at the officer.

"Yes Sir. He said that there is an investigation and that we were to keep an eye out for you two. He wants a call."

"T'rrific. I bet he does," Starsky said as he got to his feet. He stepped over his partner's long legs and walked over to Hutch's cane. He picked it up and went back to his partner.

"Officer Starsky, do you need an ambulance? You need a doctor to have a look at you?" Myers asked the big blond that sat on the cold ground in front of him.

Hutch coughed out a soft snort. "It's Hutchinson and no, I'll be alright." He glanced up at the officer. Starsky then stepped to his side. Hutch reached up as his partner reached down to help him up. At a slow pace, Hutch got to his feet. A soft moan escaped him as he straightened himself out. Starsky looked and studied his face. Starsky knew his partner and saw that he was putting on a good show. Hutch was hurting, again. A moist cough made its way up.

"Lieutenant, I need to get my partner a proper place to sit down for a minute and to make that call."

"Sure." He turned to his officer that stood over the dead body of the LA officer. His other officer had already rushed out to call the coroner and retrieve a cover for the body. "Kelly, I'll be right back." He received an acknowledgment, and then turned to the two detectives.

With Starsky glued to his side, Hutch slowly went back to the terminal. The three men went to the security office. Hutch found the closest seat and with Starsky's help, carefully sat down. Starsky went to the Lieutenant's desk and made a call to his superior officer.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

The call went about how Starsky had figured it would be. Dobey was relieved that they were OK, upset that Andrew had actually showed up, and cursed that once again his two detectives were on the receiving end of some sick bastard's mind. He voiced his concern for his blond detective's injuries, but knew that he was going to be well cared for. Dobey told him that if he felt that they needed more time out there to get Hutch back on his feet, to give him a call. Starsky told him that that would be up to Hutch. But something in the back of his mind told him that Hutch would still want to stick to the planned schedule.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Dobey set the phone back down and took in a deep breath. He looked over at the LA detective and his own officer.

"Minnie I think that we have an arrest we need to go make. Detective Hansen, you're more then welcome to join us since this is your investigation." Dobey rose out of his big leather chair and proceeded to the office door.

"I would be glad to help. Anything to make sure that Starsky and Hutch get justice." Phil had told him.

"Yes Sir Captain, lets go and get her." Minnie was too happy to help.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

The Duluth lieutenant mentioned that he was going to need statements, but that they could wait until Hutch was up to it. They informed him that they would be in the next day to wrap it up, right now Hutch really needed to get to his parents house and rest. Hutch gave him contact phone numbers where they could be reached at his parents. The lieutenant gave Starsky a number at which he could be reached at as well.

Starsky went and squatted down next to the chair his friend sat in. Hutch was sitting quietly, an occasional cough rattling him. Starsky reached over and laid his hand on his knee. He looked up into the face that he knew as well as his own.

Once again, his best friend and partner had been on the receiving end of a malicious attack. And again he was to blame. Andrews blamed him for all that happened and took it out on Hutch. He looked down, then sorrowful back up to his friend.

"Sorry," Starsky quietly said, the eyes of the blond were now a dark lake blue, looking at him. They told him that they were OK, reassuring the brunet that they were going to be alright.

"OK Blondie, you ready to head to the house?" Starsky softly asked as his eyes lingered in the pool of blue.

"Yeah, I'm better." He shifted his weight to get up. Starsky stood up and stepped to the side as he offered his arm. With the help from his partner and his cane, Hutch slowly got himself standing once again. His body was tired and hurting. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. His throat burned.

Myers had stood off to the side and watched the two out-of-town detectives. He wasn't to sure what to make of the silent exchanges and physical contact. California, was the only answer that he came up with. Cops just didn't behave the way these two did, at least not in Minnesota.

Starsky got them walking out of the office and back into the terminal. Myers slowly walked with them back to the garage. The Coroner's wagon arrived and parked behind the body. They placed the dead cop on a stretcher. A few civilians had gathered, but stood off to the side and whispered amongst themselves. They glanced over to the two California detectives and the Duluth officer. The whispering quickened.

Starsky walked them to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for his partner.

"Is this your car?" Myers asked Starsky as they stood next to the gleaming black vehicle. Even in a low lit garage, the car glowed. The lieutenant slowly walked around it, admiring the powerful sports car.

"Naw, this is my partner's. Too much flash for me," he said as he shoots his friend a big crocked smile and winked at him. Hutch got the underlying message.

"Yeah, he prefers to run around in a muscled up 'stripped tomato'." Hutch smiled back him.

"A what?" The lieutenant gave them an odd look.

Starsky just dodged the question. "Thank you again Lieutenant, we'll be back in the morning for those reports." Starsky shook the man's hand and slowly got Hutch down into the seat.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky again sat down into the soft leather of the driver's seat. He couldn't help but smile. This was a once in a life time opportunity. He looked over at Hutch. Hutch gave him a 'go ahead' nod and a smile. Starsky inserted the key and turned it. There was a sudden soft roar that erupted from the front of the car as the powerful racing engine came to life. His heart nearly jumped out his chest. It was adrenalin shot straight to his veins.

Living the last eight years with Starsky in the Torino, Hutch was confident in his driving abilities. He knew that his friend would enjoy driving the machine, but also would consider it as something special. He would handle it with care.

"Since your father gave it to ya, it would have to be top of the line." Starsky stated as he sat and allowed the engine to warm up.

"Top of the line. Nothing less," Hutch stated factually. "I think you might enjoy playing with it." Hutch shoots him a smile and reached over and patted him on the thigh. He let his hand linger there.

"Might? Oh I don't know Hutch. It's a whole lot of car. You trust me handling it?" He looked over at his partner.

Hutch looked into sea colored eyes that gleamed with excitement. "With my life Starsk…I trust you with my life. Why don't we get this old girl on the road," Hutch stated with a smile.

"Just point and show me the way my good man." Starsky shifted the car into the first gear and slowly exited the parking garage, leaving behind another crime scene. Even going home for a couple days, and their job tagged along behind. In some small way it always raised its head. This time though, in a ugly way.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky slowly weaved the car in and out of traffic as they went through town. Hutch was pointing out landmarks as they passed by. He then finally directed him to the back roads that would lead them to the house. Starsky was happy for the extra room as he gently let the powerful car come to life. The car hugged the road as he drove along the soft turns through the hills. The April day was overcast and a soft mist still hung in the air. The car handled the wet roads with ease.

Hutch sat and watched his friend enjoy the car. Starsky drove with a smile and an excited look on his face. Though being in pain, seeing his partner with a smile on his face was the only medicine that he needed. It was better then any painkiller.

Starsky quickly glanced over at Hutch, "So Hutch, let me ask you sumthin'."

"Sure. What is it?" His voice was soft and scratchy.

"Do all your family drive cars like this?" Starsky glanced back at him.

"Well, Mom enjoys a 1971 Cadillac Eldorado convertible and Stacy has a '68 Jaguar convertible." Hutch turned slightly to look at his friend. He knew that Starsky would be waiting for his father's choice.

"Nice cars Hutch. And your dad?" Starsky asked with anticipation, while keeping his eyes on the road. Considering the cars the other family members had, his mind could just imagine what his dad would drive.

Hutch hesitated. "He has a few that he enjoys. Depending on his mood and where he needs to drive to, depends on what he chooses to drive. Mostly they're investments." He then sat quietly.

"And what would they be?" Starsky took notice of the hesitation.

"The two major ones are a 1968 Bentley and a 1973 Porsche. They're alright I guess."

"You guess?" Starsky gave him a quick sideways glance, as he maneuvered the car through a tight turn. "So what are the others?"

"Starsk…I…"

"What? You don't want to hurt my feelings or something? Hutch, I already get the picture… you're rich."

"No. My parents are rich. I am not. And you know that," Hutch corrected him.

"OK. So what are the other cars your dad owns?"

"A 1965 Shelby Cobra Roadster convertible and a 1961 Ferrari 250 GTO."

"You're kidding? Hutch, do you know how rare those are? A '65 Shelby Cobra Roadster? They only made 350 of those. And the Ferrari, only 39 were made of the 250 GTO."

Starsky took in a deep breath. His head swam with envy. "Wow. Your dad is into race cars I see. I think I like him already."

Hutch smiled, his friend could not only remember baseball stats of players from years ago, and he could remember car stats as well.

Starsky let off on the gas pedal a little as he slowed the car down a bit. He brought it to an easy cruising speed. He sat back and took in the scenery as they made their way through the countryside.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Forty five minutes later, Starsky pulled the sports car through a gate of stone and wrought iron and up the drive to the large stone and timber mansion. The two-story home sat on top and slightly forward of the thirty sloping acres. A tree line bookend both sides of the property, running from the road and back towards the horizon that Lake Superior took over.

There was a three car garage directly attached to the left side of the large lake house. And another three car detached garage that sat just left and behind the sprawling home. The driveway gently weaved past the front of the house and around to the left to the garages.

Hutch told him to drive up to the back garage. Hutch reached into the glove compartment and pushed a small button on a door opener. The far left door of the garage slowly opened.

Starsky carefully pulled the Sting Ray into its reserved spot. In the center, the Cobra sat covered up, and the Ferrari was parked and covered at the far right side. He sat for a second and looked over at Hutch. He took notice that there was a slight look of nervousness mixed with some anxiety on his face.

"OK, what's this look about? You alright?"

"Y…yeah. I…I'm alright." The slight emotional stammer surfaced.

"You're a terrible liar Hutch." Starsky reached over and grabbed his hand. "What's wrong buddy?"

Hutch took a deep breath and slowly letting it escape out. His throat protested, and burned slightly with the deep breath. He looked over at his soulmate. "Just know that there's going to be a fight of some kind. I'm sorry if one erupts. Starsk…w..what am I going to say to Dad. He's going to want an explanation about what happened to me three weeks ago and about today."

"Listen to me…you don't know for sure that your father is going to go off the deep end. All that needs to be said is that you're on the road to recovery and what happened today isn't something that can be discussed. You won't be lying, just skipping some of the details. It's all going to be alright." He smiled at his partner. "Let's say we go meet your folks?"

"Alright." Hutch smiled to himself. Leave it to his sable haired friend to make him take a look at things a little differently and ease some of the anxiety that he was feeling.

Both men opened their door and exited the car. Starsky looked around the garage, walked over and peeking under the cover of the Cobra. He smiled and shook his head. The tip of that iceberg was getting bigger by the hour.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

They entered the house through the back entrance that connected the attached garage to the house. Hutch noticed that the Eldorado was gone. His mother was out. The center spot where the Porsche usually sat was empty. The Bentley was parked in its destined spot at the far right.

They entered the house. The hall lead past the maid's quarters and into the kitchen. The large open kitchen was equipped with high-end stainless steel appliances and granite counter tops. A heavy copper exhaust hood hung over the six flame stove. A center island made with granite equipped with an indoor Jenn-air downdraft grill. A large piece of granite was used as a bar top separating the kitchen from the open great-room. The kitchen was a chef's paradise.

The large house was quiet, everyone was gone except the house servants. The gardener was busy arranging freshly cut flowers into a vase in the entrance-hall and the maid just come around the corner from the dinning room.

"Ken, so nice to see you home. You alright?" The stout and short Mexican lady asked him. Hutch bent down to hug her.

"Tan bonito verte. Te ves muy bin, como siempre. Yes, I'm alright. ¿Es esta la casa de mis padres?"

Starsky has always been curious as why his partner was able to let the Spanish flow from him. Now he knew.

"Ay Señor, you always tease. No Señor. Su madre es en una reunión y su padre en el hospital. Say he will be home shortly. Your luggage is here and has already been taken care of. Your rooms are ready."

"Maria, this is David Starsky. Este es mi amigo y compañero." Hutch said as he introduced him.

"Señor David, so good to meet you."

"It's so nice to meet you too." Starsky stated as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Señor," Maria blushed and slowly took her hand back and continued her way to the laundry room that was in the same hallway as the maid's room.

Hutch took Starsky through the house. The rooms were large and expansive. Off to the right of the kitchen was a large formal dinning room. A huge imported crystal chandelier hung above the eight person dinning room table. A formal living room was flowing off from the dinning room. A Grand piano sat at one side of the picture-book living room. Everything arranged to perfection.

They stopped in the large great-room that faced out to the back of the property. There were large timber beams running the length of the ceiling above them. The room had the feel as if taken from an upscale log cabin magazine, being very modern at the same time. The combination mixed well. Rustic-sophistication, if there was such a thing. The two-story wall at the back was nothing but windows. There was glass from floor to the high arching ceiling. The view from the windows was magnificent. A large stone patio extended out from the back of the house. They went to the French doors on the left side of the windows and then stepped out onto the patio. The view was picturesque.

Below the soft slopping hill next to the stone terrace, was a tennis court. Next to that, a rolling path ran between two neatly arranged gardens and down to the shore of the lake. A large boat house was at the end of a dock that ran out across the water's edge. On the left side of the shore a rocky cliff-line that rose at the side of the property. Tall birch and conifers were looming over the edge. Their trunks and limbs contorted by the winds that blow off the lake. The swell of Lake Superior rolled towards them as a spring storm blew across the water. There was a soft smell of wet pine and earth in the air, a refreshing change from the stale city air that they had to endure on a daily basis.

"Wow Hutch. I don't know what to say but, WOW." He stood looking. A look of awe covered on his face.

There was a chilled mist that started to fall again. The cold air was settling in as the evening progressed. It started to burn Hutch's throat and lungs as he inhaled it. His chest started to tighten up again. "Come on. Let's go inside." Hutch turned and slowly went to the French doors they had come through. Starsky, walking slowly behind him, was taking in the view that he had never seen before except in magazines.

Hutch walked past the grand stone fireplace positioned on the left wall, the wall opposite from the kitchen, and made his way across the room towards the staircase. Just to the right of the fireplace was his father's library and study. Beyond that and down the hallway, was the master suite.

Starsky glanced into the large library through elaborately etched glass doors that closed it off. Three of the walls were mahogany built-in book shelves that ran from floor to ceiling. It was furnished with a large mahogany desk and chair. A leather chair with a matching couch sat on the back side of the room just in front of a large window with a carbon copy of the view from the main room. Wow. The man knows how to impress. He sure is a perfectionist. Starsky thought to himself about the infamous Dr. Hutchinson.

He turned and caught up with his partner. Hutch had slowly started his climb up the smoothly curving staircase to the second floor. At the top of the landing there was a large open den looking down at the large room below. It was furnished with a couple expensive leather chairs and love seat. A TV sat nestled amongst the book shelves in a wall unit. Displayed among the numerous books were exquisite vases and bronze statues.

There were four bedrooms, two pairs of rooms sharing a Jack and Jill bathroom each. Stacy's and one guest room was on the left of the open den and Hutch's and the second guest room, to the right of the den at the end of the hall.

Hutch slowly made his way down the hall, his body drained of all strength and exhausted. The day had worn him down. At this point all he wanted was to set down and get himself together before his parents returned home. The door to his room was opened. As they entered Starsky couldn't help but gasp.

"Hutch, this is your room?" Starsky asked stunned as he looked at the large king size sleigh bed, two dressers, a huge leather chair, and a large desk with chair that sat under the window.

"Yeah," softly escaped. He was tired.

"It's the size of my apartment," he exaggerated slightly.

"The guest room is identical." Hutch nonchalantly told him as they passed through the joining bathroom to the guest room. It mirrored the one they just came from.

Hutch glanced over at his friend, "I need to change out of these clothes. Your clothes should already have been put away in the drawers. There is also some of my clothes in the closet that you can wear."

"Hutch?"

"Yeah?"

"I feel very out of place. I never had anyone waiting on me or putting my things away for me. Is this how it's going to be for the next few days?"

"Starsky…just think of it as a vacation at a resort. Or think of it as being on an assignment. You're going to be fine."

"Hutch, I am. I'm here to look after your ass, buddy. That's my assignment. But I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world," he said to him with a wink.

"I can feel the love Starsk." Hutch weakly smiled at him. "So your first assignment is to help me readjust this damn wrap. We need to check the sutures to make sure that I didn't pull something when I hit the pavement. See if there's a pair of jogging pants in the closet in your room. I need to change."

"Alright Ollie, lets get you presentable," that said, he helped Hutch out of his jacket and unsnapped the holster. Starsky too, removed his own and placed the Beretta and Hutch's Magnum into the suitcase and out of sight.

As Starsky was rummaging through the closet in the guest room, Hutch stood at the mirror in the bathroom taking in a good look of himself. He lightly rubbed the purple hand print that now splotched his throat. Turtlenecks and high collar sweaters would be the attire for the rest of their stay.

Hutch was feeling stiff from the long flight and sore from the dive to the pavement at the airport. His lungs also felt as if they were going to erupt at any moment. He struggled to keep them in place. The last thing he needed was to let his family see how sick he really was. And he sure didn't need Starsky worrying about him anymore then what he already did.

Why did I get myself talked into this trip? This is going to be hard to explain. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of Tylenol. He downed a couple pills before Starsky returned.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

5:30pm, Dr. Hutchinson parking the Porsche in the main garage, noticed that the Corvette was back. He knew that his son and partner had made it home.

He made his way into the house. As he walked into the main room he saw his son sitting on the large leather couch. A brunet man sat in the leather chair next to him. His partner.

Starsky got to his feet as he caught a glimpse of the taller Hutchinson coming into the room. Hutch grabbed his cane and with Starsky's help, slowly got to his feet as his father approached.

Doctor Hutchinson, standing at six foot two, his hair dark blond, just a shade from being brunet with a streak of gray at the sides and gold rimmed glasses, conveyed the impression of a man of distinction and power.

"Kenneth. I see that you two made it to the house." His thoughts slightly caught off guard seeing his son in his current state. His son was standing with a cane and a slight paleness to him. Kenneth had called a couple weeks earlier to inform them that he had been injured, but he did not go into any detail. This was a slight shock, but with his son being a cop and not the doctor he hoped, it should be expected.

"Dad, I would like you to meet David Starsky. David this is my father."

Starsky held out his hand. "I'm glad to meet you Sir."

Doctor Hutchinson took the man's hand and shock it.

"It's nice to meet you too. Kenneth told us a lot about you over the years. You are from New York?"

"Yes Sir. Brooklyn. Though I've been in Bay City since I was a young teenager."

"Son, why don't you sit down? Your mother is at one of her society meetings and getting things in line for the party on Saturday. You know your mother, always making things perfect for a party. She should be home around 9:30 tonight. Can I get you two something to drink? The bar is fully stocked," the older man asked as he walked over to the mirrored bar on the far side of the room.

"No thank you Sir. Hutch?" Starsky asked as he helped Hutch to settle back down on the couch before his father turned around. Hutch was trying his best not to show his father the amount of pain he was in. That would be taken as a sign of weakness.

"No thank you Dad," he got out as he settled down on the soft leather couch.

"Did you have a pleasant flight?" The doctor asked as he poured himself a glass.

Fine, if you call killing a cop 'fine'. Hutch silently berated himself.

"The flight was fine. How are you and Mom?" He was trying to dodge the subject.

Dr. Hutchinson walked back across the room to his son and partner. "We're doing fine. Your mother had told me that your had been injured. I wasn't expecting to see you in such a shape Kenneth. Guess that just goes with the territory of being a cop." A small jab at his son's choice, leaving the life he had planned for him, for a life on the edge.

Hutch inhaled sharply. Slight panic erupted inside him. "Dad…I…" Hutch glanced at Starsky.

Starsk could feel the tension already rising between the two Hutchinson, even though just a couple words have been exchanged at this point. Sensing that the subject needed a change, he stepped in. "I see that you're into racing cars. That's a nice collection you have." He smiled at the older man.

The older Hutchinson's gaze shifted from his son to the brunet. Alright, we'll skip it for now. "I have always thought that there are some vehicles out there making a good investment."

"The Ferrari defiantly is one. With only 39 ever built of that particular model, it is defiantly an investment. I like the Cobra too."

"I enjoy it. I have it shipped to the track every now and then to put it through some races. What, may I ask, do you drive?"

Over the next hour Starsky informed the man of his pride and joy. Though the Gran Torino couldn't compare with the cars parked only a few yards from him. He and the doctor talked about cars and their values. Hutch's car back home was thoughtfully excluded from the conversation by Starsky. They talked about high earning investments and real-estate. Politics and higher education were lightly covered but mostly they steered clear of emotional subjects.

Hutch just sat and let his mind drift slightly, though the appropriate nod and short reply was given when needed. He tried his best to keep up with the conversation, but his mind kept drifting and a headache he was trying to ignore started it's pounding behind his eyes. His mind and body was beyond tired.

Starsky sat and listened to the older man, but he also kept his mind on his partner. He could see that Hutch was being cordial when needed, but there was an underlining need to escape.

Hutch had slowly started to fight off the couch trying to suck him deeper into the leather pillows. Hutch noticed when he started to slump and tried to straighten himself. But his body was fighting against him. The two pills he took earlier in the bathroom also working against him.

Starsky took notice. He needed to end the conversation. Hutch was in need.

"Well…Ken and I need to go up to take a shower and change."

"Sure, you boys go up. I have a few things that need to be taken care of in the office."

The doctor got up as Starsky stood and extended a hand to help Hutch up from the offending couch. Deliberately he got him to his feet.

"Dad, we'll be down in a bit, before Mom gets home." Hutch slowly turned. He knew that his father had taken notice of his cautious movements, but at this point all he longed for is a hot shower and a short nap. It would take all he had left just to climb the stairs.

With Starsky on his side, they slowly made their way up the staircase.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

6:50 pm, Hutch let the hot water run down his battered body. The water seemed to burn hotter tonight, but the warmth seeped in and soothed some of the pain that pounded out it's rhythm through his body. The heat drained the last of his energy, and all he wanted was to lie down and sleep.

Hutch stumbled slightly as he stepped out of the oversized shower to where his partner waited with towel in hand. Starsky held out his arm just in time to keep him from nose-diving to the floor. The brunet's heart jumped slightly. Starsky shook his head. Hutch wasn't well.

The blond silently toweled off as good as he could, Starsky finishing by gently wiping away the water droplets off his long back, taking care of the still lingering wounds. Starsky then reached for the dreaded chest wrap.

"You alright? You sure that you don't want your father to take a look at you?" Starsky asked gently, Hutch looked drained. The long flight and incident at the airport had taken its toll.

"No! Now can-it! He already thinks it has got something to do with our work. I don't need him picking our job or us apart, even though it didn't have anything to do with our jobs," he let out a heavy breath. He then realized he was venting his frustration on his friend. He's just concerned about you, Hutchinson. Hutch closed his eyes then opened them to look at his steadfast and caring partner. Aw Starsk…

"It happened because of our friendship and because we are partners. Nick was an idiot to try and do something like this." Starsky reminded him. "I'm sorry Hutch. Sorry that Nick turned out the way he did. I never thought he was capable of doing this to us." The guilt rolled over him unexpectedly. He stood slightly behind him and twisted the wrap around as his mind backtracked to the hospital room three weeks earlier. To hear from his own brother's mouth that he disapproved of his friendship with his partner, it ripped him up inside.

Hutch turned around and looked at his partner. He softened his voice, "it's not your fault, it's Nick's. Nick is a grown man who makes his own decisions," He ran his fingers under Starsky's shirt collar and straightened it out till it lay properly. "It's still me and thee," he looked down momentarily, "at least he didn't take that from us," it came out a little resentful. He looked into those dark blue eyes that held his world. Starsky blinked and slowly nodded. They still had each other and that was the most important thing.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

There was a soft knock on Hutch's bedroom door. "Kenneth?" Without waiting for a reply, Dr. Hutchison carefully opened the door and walked into the room. He observed that the clothes had been thrown carelessly at the bed and chair. He never could clean up after himself.

The door to the joining bathroom was slightly open. The older man hesitated as he overheard the conversation in the adjoining room.

"Babe listen…we'll get through this. I promise. Even if it's something we can only handle ourselves, then we do it together," Starsky said as he straightened out the wrap.

The endearment used between the two men, did not go unnoticed by the doctor. He thought for a moment about the man in his son's life. He could feel that there was a strong bond between his son and his partner. A bond that he just now seeing the top surface of. David seemed to be connected to his son, and Kenneth had that same strong fondness for his partner.

Over the years Kenneth talked buoyantly about his spirited partner. He was glad to see that his son had finally found a good friend. Although he hated the fact that it took him joining the police force for that to happen. He could have just as well found a close friend in the medical field as well, but that didn't happen. And that was something that he had to accept.

It's been a long nine years since his son announced that he was leaving medical school for the academy. He still held some resentment against it, but his son was living his own life. Although it's not the life that he had planned for his son, the plan being his son to follow in his footsteps and join him as a partner in his world, a world of saving lives and discovering new methods for reaching that goal. Instead his son had left for California to become a cop and the life of having to take a life if need. Or even worse, loose his life in the process.

He was just going to have to come to terms with the fact that his son was living his own life. At least he wasn't alone. He had a partner that seemed to care about him. Because of that fact, he liked the New York transplant.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

"I know, and it's just going to take time Starsk," Hutch's voice rasped out. He couldn't hold them back any longer, a couple moist coughs rattled up from his lungs. There was a trace of phlegm starting to move up with the coughs. He reached for a couple tissues and spat into them. He couldn't hide it anymore. Another series worked up and took control. His lungs were trying to detach themselves and escape out his chest.

Starsky reached over as the coughs started to overtake his friend. He slowly rubbed the strong back as the chest and back muscles constricted.

After the bout finished, Hutch turned towards him. His dark blue eyes were wet and blurry from fighting the coughs. He ran a tissue across them.

Starsky reached up and placed the back of his hand at the blonds' brow. Hutch stubbornly batted it away. "I'm fine."

"Frog hair is fine, you're a stubborn mule and sick." Starsky told him as he placed his hand on the tall blonds' forehead again, eyeing him to let him know that he meant business. This time it was allowed to stay. Warm.

"Starsk…lets just put this damn thing back on," he pleaded, avoiding the forthcoming argument of his cough.

Starsky took in a deep breath and then sighed heavily. He can be so bullheaded when he's sick. Thinks that I won't notice. Buddy, you should know by now, I notice. Always. Sometimes I just ignore the stuff, like you do, but not this time. This time I'm all over it.

Starsky untwisted the wrap and smoothed it out and in the processes of wrapping it around his friend.

Doctor Hutchinson stepped to the open door separating the rooms. "Kenneth, I…." He suddenly stopped and gasped at the unexpected sight of his son. Starsky had only been able to get the wrap part way around Hutch's back. The dark bruising on Hutch's chest leaped out at the older Hutchinson.

"My god, Kenneth?" He stepped forward. The evidence of the torture from three weeks earlier made him hesitate momentarily. His eyes widened with shock as they took in the sight of his son's naked body. Marble white, and splotched with massive bruising and knife wounds. The darkening recently inflicted hand print across his throat already, turning into a shade of purple.

Doctor Richard Hutchinson had over the many years of being a doctor, seen people that had been victims of assaults and the mangled bodies from accidents. But he hadn't expected to find his own son's body looking as if Death had reached out, grabbed him and then spat him back into the world of the living.

Starsky and Hutch both stood rooted to the spot because of the intrusion. Silence fell in the room. Then, with Hutch's needs overriding everything else, Starsky finished pulling the wrap closed. With Hutch holding one end of it, Starsky reached for the clips on the countertop that would hold the wrap in place and started to attached them, glancing over to the senior Hutchinson between each clip. There was a deafening silence in the room. And it screamed with uneasiness.

With Hutch holding the wrap in place with his hands, the salmon colored rings around his wrists stood out. The doctor couldn't help but notice. His son had been held against his will. He had been the victim of some sinister crime.

Hutch stood staring at his father. Standing naked in front of his father left him feeling very vulnerable. All his defenses were stripped from him. He felt as if he was at the mercy of his father. He wasn't sure what to say to the man at that moment. His heart and soul reached for the unseen protection of his partner.

'Starsky…,' he sent out an uneasy and silent S.O.S.

'I'm here buddy. I'm not leaving unless you tell me to.' The silent reply came with a soft touch to the middle of his middle back. Starsky's thumb rested just under the wrap and moved ever so slightly back and forth. A heart beat quick, the touch was familiar and time old between them. It was, of course, out of eye shot of the doctor.

"Dad can I please get dressed before you start in on me?" Shame washed over him. His attempt to keep it from his father was in vain. He knew his father was now expecting an explanation. Starsky reached behind him for a large towel to help cover his partner, and the shame that his partner was experiencing standing bare in front of his father. He handed it to Hutch, who started to wrap it around himself but the older Hutchinson stopped the process.

"No. First I take a look at you, as a doctor," a stern rejection to the request. He eyed Starsky who stood protectively close to his son. Starsky gave him a look that told him that he wasn't about to leave his partner's side. Father or not, his partner's whole wellbeing was important to him. His partner had gone instantly into flight mode and Starsky into fighting mode, he stood his ground.

"You are going to explain to me what happened to you! I am your father and I think that I'm entitled to an explanation of what happened. Is this the result of your job?" He looked into his son's eyes then at his throat. "I just never expected to see my own son looking like this. But then again with your choice of being a cop, something like this should have to be expected. I would hope that whoever is responsible for this has been dealt with," Dr. Hutchison sternly stated as he took in his son's appearance.

He glanced over at the cop that stood just an arms length away. "You're his partner, how could you let something like this happen to him? You're supposed to protect him."

"Dad! David saved my life! Hear me? He saved me! If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead!"

Hutch took a slight step closer to his partner and friend. "No! This had nothing to do with our job Dad! And no, I can't go into details why this happened. Those having been involved have been taken care of." Hutch looked at his partner, knowing that his partner had killed the men that had held him captive and maliciously tortured him. "All I can tell you is that it happened and we're working through it." His voice started to rasp a bit.

He felt another cough bubbling up to the surface. He fought to keep it down, but the effort failed and it rumbled out. He turned away from his father as it continued.

"We?" the older Hutchinson asked as he looked at Starsky. He then noticed the cut across Starsky's right arm, the pink wound standing out against the slightly olive skin. Starsky gave him a small nod.

"Yes. We." Hutch turned back to his father and stood uncomfortably in front of him. But his attitude now was that he wasn't going to allow his father to start digging into his friend and partner. Starsky has suffered just as much as himself. May not be the physical but the emotional pain was there. They shared something too precious, to allow his father to try to pick it apart.

"Alright son," his voice yielding. The doctor then continued a slow inspection of his son's wounds.

The large bruising on his right hip and leg was in stark contrast to the paleness of the rest of his body. He then glanced at the knife wound in his left side. He took a small step to the side of his son. The large sutured cut across his buttock caught the doctor's attention. The doctor bent over to get a better look at it. He pushed his glasses up slightly as he examined the pink line. With a deep intake of air, he straightened, seeming satisfied with the healing. He knew that the knife wounds and their placement were meant to cause great pain and possibly death. His son had been tortured. His son. Kenneth.

"How long ago has this been?" He asked his son, as his voice calmed down a bit. He stepped back.

Hutch, seeking reassurance from his bodyguard, eyed his partner. Receiving a silent message back that he needed to open up to his father, Hutch sighed, "Three weeks, Dad. It's getting better. Please, can we just drop this now?" Hutch took the towel and wrapped it around his waist.

"What else are you not telling me about your injuries? Kenneth I can see that your color is too pale and that you are weak. How much blood did you loose?" He looked over at his son's overprotective companion.

"Dad, isn't it enough to know that I'm here?" Another cough escaped. He sucked down a quick breath to stop the next. The need to back off from the pending argument was at the forefront. Starsky, I can't do this right now. Please? He looked out for help from his emotionally strong friend.

"Tell him Hutch." Starsky decided that his partner needed his father, if for anything but for the medical attention. He looked at the blue eyes that looked back at him with an almost pleading look. Starsky got the message that he didn't want to do this. Sorry buddy, but you need him.

If Hutch was going to throw up that stubborn emotional wall, then he might have to work with the older Hutchinson. It was going to be up to himself to help Hutch out this uncomfortable situation that was happening.

Starsky had unconsciously taken a protective step just in front of Hutch, a barrier to stop any pain from reaching his friend. It may not come in the form of physical pain, but he would stop any emotional ones as well. "Sir, your son lost enough blood that he almost died. His heart almost stopped beating, twice. He also has been fighting an infection. But we're staying ahead of it and he's getting better. Is that what you want to know? That your son almost died? That his life almost ended? That I almost lost my partner and best friend, and that you almost lost your son?"

The sheer reality that his son almost died, finally hit the older man. The candid way that the man in his son's life told the truth and the way his son's body had been tortured, opened his mind. All the years of the bitter arguments and growing distance that had developed over the years, suddenly faded away. All that mattered at this moment was that his son almost died. His son. The title of cop didn't matter. His son did.

Doctor Hutchinson took another step back and then looked into the blue eyes that belonged to his son.

"Kenneth, I…" The intellectual Doctor Hutchinson, suddenly and oddly found himself at a loss of words. He looked from his son to the dark haired man that stood protectively near his son. He knew by the way the brunet stood, just slightly in front of his injured son, he was the wall that would stop anyone or anything from trying to hurt his son. "Is there anything that I can do to help? That cough sounds like you're congested. Did you have your doctor check it out? Are you running a fever?"

For the first time that Hutch could ever remember, his father let down his emotional guard and showed he was capable of caring about him, even if it was about the slight offer for medical help.

"No Dad. David and I are taking care of things. I just need to rest for a while. Please can we not mention this to Mom? I don't want her worrying about me." Hutch looked at his father.

"Alright Ken. But at least let me get you something for the pain that you're obviously in. You throat is raw. And I know it happened recently. Let me get you something to soothe it. I also have something for your cough." He took another step back towards the bathroom door.

"Dad, I already have everything I need. We'll take care of it. I just need some rest. We will be down when Mom gets back home." Hutch moved over to the counter.

Starsky took the cue and moved behind him and reached for the antibiotic cream and bandages that laid out on the countertop. Hutch took hold of the cane. Starsky stepped back around Hutch and again unconsciously between him and his father.

Hutch maneuver around his father and into the bedroom, Starsky instantly fell into rhythm at his side. The older Hutchinson took a step back and allowed the two men to pass him.

Hutch, with his partner at his side, slowly made his way to the bed.

"I'll leave you two alone and let you get some rest. If you need something, let me know." The older Hutchinson reluctantly went to the door. He turned and watched as his son's friend helped him get on the large bed. He slowly turned back around and quietly closed the door behind himself. He stood momentarily at the door. The evidence of his son's tortured body breaking through his thick head and heart.

"My God Kenneth, I could have lost you," the acknowledgment that his son could have died, escaped him. He turned and went down to the main floor.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Hutch carefully rolled over and let Starsky do his nursing. When he was done, Hutch shifted onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Sleep, that's all I want right now. Damn it, I'm so tired. The need for sleep had bulldozed him over, overruling any other need inside him.

Starsky sat on the edge of the bed facing him. His right leg was bent at the knee and slightly pressing against Hutch's right thigh. He reached over and placed his hand on the blonds' forehead once again, while looking him in the eye. Hutch just glared back.

"Hutch, why didn't you tell me that you weren't feeling well?"

"Starsk…I'm sorry for the fighting."

"I'm not worried about that. I'm more concerned about the fever that you've got. And that cough is getting worse. You remember what Dr. Holaster told us? You can get really sick if you developed a fever." Anxiety tormented its way in and was taking over the brunet.

"Starsk, I just need to get some rest. I'll be fine. It's just jet-lag."

"Jet-lag my ass. Hutch, I'm telling you right now, if you get worse, I'm calling your father back up here."

"Would you please move so I can put on my pants and then lay down for some rest?" Hutch nudged the side of Starsky's thigh to get the curly haired man to move.

Starsky moved off the bed and retrieved a pair of light jogging pants, boxers and a tee shirt. He went back to the bed and helped get Hutch to get dressed.

Hutch just wanted to lie down and allow his mind to shut down. The sweet bliss of sleep screamed for him to join the empty realm. He sat back down on the edge of the bed after dressing and then slowly rolled over onto his left side.

The king size bed provided two king size pillows already on it, Hutch pulled one out from under the bedspread and hugged it to his chest. Starsky walked to the closet and found a couple extra pillows. He went back to the bed and arranged them along his friend's back. He rounded the bed and looked down at his friend's face. The long golden lashes flickered up and the pale blue eyes looked at him.

"I just need a short nap. I'll be alright," his voice dulled by the need of sleep. Exhaustion enveloped him and pulled him deeper into the cozy mattress. He allowed himself to be sucked down into the comfortable bliss.

"You sleep as long as you need." He watched as the blue eyes vanished behind the veil of fine golden lashes. He fingered a few stray, wet strands of golden hair off his forehead. Hutch had allowed his hair to grow out and the longer strands sometimes fell into his eyes. He pulled the blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed, up and carefully covered his friend.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky looked around the room, there were pictures of a younger Kenneth Hutchinson placed on the walls and desk. There was one with Hutch and Vanessa. Hutch, wearing a slight smile, was leaning next to the 'Vette, and she was propped on the hood, with a big smile on her face, like a hood ornament. She had caught herself a rich doctor's son who was on his way up that medical ladder himself. Then she got hit by the reality of Hutch's choice and his decision to become a cop. That ladder broke under her feet, so she opted to find her own way up that monetary ladder. The car was parked and she left. The divorce papers being handed to Hutch a short time afterwards.

You lost out Van, but I gained. If only you had given him a real chance, you also would have found a wonderful partner. He still cared, even just a small bit, and you took advantage of that. Starsky thought to himself as he shook his head. The memory of racing to his partner's apartment after receiving a call of distress from him, then finding him in shock, and her on his living room floor, dead, this not quite a year ago. Her life choice had invaded into his life and afterwards they had to fight to clear his name.

Starsky slowly looked over the other snap shots. Among the photos were framed scholastic awards from various school clubs that he was a member of. Starsky noticed that in nearly all these photos, Hutch had a slight melancholy look. The one photo, that showed a smiling Hutch, was with the chess club. His mind backtracked to the night his fare haired friend taught him how to play chess. He smiled to himself.

He reached up and pulled one of Hutch's yearbooks from a bookshelf. Pushing over the large leather chair close to the side of the bed, he sat. He flipped through the book and got a glimpse of his friends past.

Starsky flipped through the pages showing a much younger Ken Hutchinson. Class pictures with all the students lined up and dressed in starched uniforms. The school was from that which wealth built and for those to become rich and famous.

There were the pages of school clubs with their member's names written across the bottom of the pages under the photos. He found Hutch's on most of these pages. Every picture displaying that sad smile, with the exception of the chess club and wrestling, this was what Starsky found most disturbing. The debate team showed a very serious looking young Hutchinson. The track club picture showed a tall lanky Hutch standing in the back row. Every picture giving evidence that he just wasn't happy.

He turned the pages and started to read some of the messages a few students had written to him. Mainly they were wishing him well in med school. One young girl told him she'd play nurse if he'd play doctor. Little hearts and kisses accompanied the inscription.

Even as a teen, Hutch emanated charisma and charm if he wanted. Tall, blond, a mouth full of pearly whites and a lean athletic body, he is just pure enchantment. But hidden underneath all that physical attributes there was an underlying quiet side, an emotionally distant kid that just wanted his father to be proud of him, to be proud of who he was and not who his father wanted him to be.

He glanced over at Hutch as a slight moan came from him. Hutch stirred slightly in his sleep. Hutch turned over onto the pillow at his chest but not quite onto his stomach. It was one of the odd angles that he had gotten used to, to ease the pains from lying on his injuries for too long. Starsky watched as Hutch's breathing returned to a slower rhythm.

If only those people could see the wonderful and caring person that you turned out to be. You're a brilliant detective and the dedicated friend that anyone could ask for. I wouldn't and can't think of a life without you buddy.

He looked over at the big man stirring on the bed. Starsky leaned over, and lightly placed his hand on the big blonds' forehead again. He could feel the fever still trying to win the upper hand.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

45 minutes later, Starsky quietly opened the bedroom door so not to awaken his sleeping friend. He closed it, softly walked down the hall and descended the staircase to the main room.

Dr. Hutchinson was standing at the back windows, looking out at the view. The flood lights mounted to the backside of the house illuminated the back patio and pathway that went down the softly rolling yard towards the great lake. He turned as he saw the reflection of Starsky walking across the room in the window. "Is he resting?" He asked now looking at him directly.

"He's resting as best as he can," the detective told him as he approached.

"I want to apologize to you. I was wrong with what I said. I know that you wouldn't allow anything to happen to Kenneth."

"Doctor Hutchinson…"

"Please, call my Richard."

"Alright, Richard. Ken is not only my partner, he's my best friend and I would never allow anything to hurt him. I would give my life for him, as he would give his for me. We are cops, and your son is the best detective that that department ever had. And he has an unbelievable gift for this work. But it's his friendship that I treasure the most."

"I see. He said that the person that was responsible for his injuries had been dealt with. He then looked at you. Did you …"

"Sir…" cutting the man off because of the direction that the conversation was going. "I did what I needed to do to save his life." Starsky took another step towards the windows and watched as a soft rain fell on the patio. The soft splattering played a rhythm on the stones. He turned to the doctor. "I would do it again. I'll do anything it takes to keep him safe and alive." His tone was low and straight to the point.

"I just saw on the evening news that there has been an incident at the airport this afternoon. They said that a man had been killed. Have the two of you been involved?"

Starsky took in a deep breath. The tone that the man used indicated that he demanded an explanation.

Starsky was hoping that he would drop it, but the stern look from the taller man told him that he wasn't going to give up so easily. Again Starsky stood his ground. Not for himself, but for his partner. "Yes. And that is something that we cannot discuss as well." The line was drawn.

The doctor recognized that the brunet had firmly walled off that subject. Along with that, an invisible line drawn and the subject of how his son's injuries occurred were on the other side of that line. The problem was that the man in front of him wasn't about to let him cross it.

"His injuries are extensive." He just had to test the strength of that wall and the length of that line.

"Doc, your son had been put through hell three weeks ago. We almost lost him and that isn't something that I don't take lightly. All that I can say is that we are working on getting him well again. That is what is important now. How and why, are not."

The wall was steel and that line was miles long. There was no getting around them.

"This is what I have always been worried about, him getting hurt." He looked back out to the rain, then back. The doctor's gaze softened slightly as he realized that Starsky could match him in standing his ground about the delicate matter. "David, you are close to my son."

"He is closer then my own brother."

"I get the feeling that Ken is holding back something. There is something that he doesn't want me to know, that I wouldn't understand. As close as you are to my son, can you tell me what that would be?"

Starsky looked down and thought about it. He looked back up, "Richard, to be honest with you, and meaning no disrespect Sir, I think that the two of you need to sit down and have a father and son conversation about that. That needs to come from him, not me." Starsky looked into the eyes that mirrored his friends. He could see a lot of similarities where Hutch got his features from.

Starsky suddenly inhaled sharply and froze in place. His heart unexpectedly pounded frantically in his chest. Hutch! He abruptly turned and looked towards the direction of the upstairs. He turned on his heels and without a word he quickly crossed the room and bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time, leaving the man standing alone.

Doctor Hutchinson stood stunned at the sudden retreat of the sable haired man. He stood, trying to figure out what had just happened. Then he too, crossed the room and went upstairs.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Hutch floated in the soft black void, savoring the peace that came with sleep. As he lay there, the scene in front of him slowly brightened, not by much, but bright as if a single light bulb has been switched on.

His body started to feel cold. He went to move and pull the covers some more, but found that his hands wouldn't obey him. They were bound above himself. He struggled to free himself. The light from the bulb dangling above him blinded him as he looked up. The room around him was now pitch-black with the exception of the single bulb above him. The cold air he inhaled burning in his throat and lungs. He found it hard to take air in. His body started to shiver uncontrollably. The air around him was stinging his flesh.

'What's wrong fag? Huh? Are you cold? It won't be cold where I'm sending you. I'm going to take you to Hell, boy. Because that's where your kind belongs.' The voice was moving from side to side in the dark abyss in front of him.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky swung open the bedroom door and for a half heartbeat, he stood looking at the restless form on the large bed.

Hutch was turned away from the door. The big man had curled up on himself, trying to trap as much body-heat as he could. He was shivering uncontrollably. The blankets had fallen away and left him exposed to the cool night air. The pillows had fallen away from his body. The one at his chest had fallen to the floor. There was a soft moan of distress coming from the far side of the bed.

Starsky quickly crossed the room to his friend. He rounded the bed and slid his left hip onto it and reached over to the big blond. "Come on Hutch, wake up buddy." He could feel the heat of the fever escaping his body.

Hutch stirred. Those wondrous golden lashes allowed dilated blue eyes to peek out. They had a glassy look, distant and far away.

"Hutch, come on buddy. I want you to look at me," the brunet demanded.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Hutch could hear the familiar voice, but it was so far away. It came from somewhere in the dark caverns, background to the voice that maliciously taunted him.

He could feel the pain being inflicted on him. That voice torturing his emotions. He tried to concentrate on the voice that was trying to reach him, to save him. So far away. He desperately wanted to reach it.

Hutch's eyes searched for his friend in the dark realm around him. He suddenly found his hands freed and he fell heavily to the ground. Pain exploded through his body as he hit the rock wall and ground hard. He let out a pain-filled moan. He quickly willed his battered body to move. He reached up to the wall that he fell against and pulled himself up. He hesitated before he moved outside the edges of the small light that shined from above. He then heard the voice that he so desperately needed. With no thoughts given to what waited for him in the dark, he raced through the pitch black and ice cold air to get to his friend. Starsky would make everything better.

'Run as fast as you can Homo. I'll still be there.' The unseen demon lashed out with one hard blow and sent Hutch writhing in pain and crashing to the dirt floor again. Hutch raised his arms to fend off the unseen beast that continued his torture.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Hutch thrashed on the bed as he franticly tried to defend himself from the demon in his nightmare. Starsky grabbed both his hands and held them against his chest. Hutch twisted, trying to free himself from his attacker in his nightmare, and just about unseated Starsky off the bed. "Hutch, wake up! It's me! Look at me." Now holding both of Hutch's hands firmly in his left, he placed his right palm against the paled cheek cupping it. The comforting touch working, this time Starsky was able to break through the dark. Hutch stilled and slowly blinked at Starsky.

"S..Starsk…?" He questioned as if his friend was just an imagination. His mind seemed mudded and confused.

"Hey, there you are. You dreaming of that pretty blonde stewardess?" Starsky brushed dampened gold bangs off his face.

Doctor Hutchinson stood at the door and watched the scene in the room. He then entered the room, went to the bed and proceeded to take a look at his son. He knew instantly the fever was raging. He looked at the glazed blue eyes that seemed empty. "He's running a high fever. He also may be dehydrated. When was the last time he had anything to eat or drink?" He glanced over to the overprotective man.

"He hasn't been eating well. The last real meal he picked at was last night about 6:30. Even then, he never finished. Virtually nothing today."

"We need to get him to the hospital and see what could be causing the fever and congestion he has. What did his doctor back home say about this?"

"The coughs started yesterday and the fever started coming on today. He stumbled and took a hard fall yesterday, breaking his rib again. Just thought this was the cause of the coughs. Though now the fever has started…" He turned his attention back to his friend. His anxiety level pounded the roof of his emotions.

"Come on Hutch, we need to get you to the hospital. Just long enough to have them check you out." Starsky leaned over and reached under his arms to help him sit up. Knowing that his stubborn friend would put up a fight about the mentioned hospital, he tried his best to hide his own alarm about his condition.

With a lot of prodding, the big blond slowly sat up. A loud moan escaped him. A series of coughs constricted his lungs and he fell limp onto Starsky's shoulder and into his arms. Hutch immediately wrapped his arms around his chest at the sudden pain. Starsky drew him closer and held him as tight as he dared. He wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him, not only physical but emotionally comforting him as well.

"Shhhh, let it finish. Don't try to fight it. It'll be over in minute. Then we take a quick trip to the hospital and find out what's wrong with you." H was unsure if his friend heard him or not, he wasn't sure.

"No!" Hutch got out between a couple coughs. He heard, although he heard the words through a backwash of his own heartbeat that throbbed in his ears. His eyes taking sight of the room as it swayed and folded as he took in labored breathes. His stomach tried to roll with it.

"Yes. And you're not gonna talk me out of it. I let you talk me into allowing you on this trip, even though you knew you weren't feeling well. Well Blondie, it's my turn to make the decisions. And your father and I both think that you need to make a trip to the hospital. It'll just be long enough to get you checked out." He grabbed Hutch by the shoulders and gently held him at arms length, to take a better look at his friend.

Hutch's face was drawn in, even with a high fever, his face was bone white. He had little strength to even hold up his head, it swayed slightly. He fell back onto the bed and looked up at his concerned partner. There was a small row of perspiration lined across his brow and upper lip. Starsky reached for the facecloth that Doctor Hutchinson had retrieved from the bathroom, now holding it out to him. He dabbed the cloth at the wetness.

The cool wet cloth sent stinging fireflies through his skin. It prickled deep down. His skin felt as if on fire. "Starsk…please… I don't…" He blinked slowly, his eyelids weighed down too heavy to keep them open.

"I know you don't, but you will. I promise, it'll just be a short trip there and back. Then you can do the Rip Van Winkle 'till your blond heart's content, but right now I need you to try to sit up so we can get you down to the car, because I'm a half a heartbeat away from calling an ambulance out here and drag you out." He wiped a few more beads of sweat off his forehead.

With the help of Hutch's dad they got him sitting, his legs swung over the edge of the bed. For Hutch the room tried to up-end as it exploded into a infusion of rolling colors. He swayed slightly. His stomach still hadn't decided to empty or just roll with the nausea.

Starsky grabbed the blanket that had fallen off the bed and threw it around the big blonds' shoulders. They slowly got Hutch up and walking. They each took one side and very slowly and carefully they got Hutch moving towards the door. Hutch did his best to comprehend what was happening. But the world around him twisting from vertical to horizontal and back again, over and over with each step he took. "Stars…don't want…"

"I know you don't, buddy. But it's too late. We're already halfway there. Just stay with us a little longer." He carefully readjusted Hutch's weight as he held him around the waist.

It took some time but they managed and awkwardly got Hutch down the stairs and to the garage. Doctor Hutchinson opened the back door to the Bentley and Starsky got Hutch seated, who immediately fell over onto the seat. Starsky ran to the other side of the car and got in next to him. He gently raised Hutch's head and placed it in his lap. His hand instantly went to the sweat-damped, blond hair and instantly caressed it. Hutch moaned.

"Shhh, it's alright. I'm right here babe," Starsky soothed. Now if he could only soothe his own anxiety. Was this the setback that Hutch's doctor back home had warned about? Had something invaded his bloodstream? Was Hutch slowly dying from an infection? His heart was thumping against his chest.

Doctor Hutchinson drove as quickly as he could to get his son to the emergency room of the hospital he worked in.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

9:15 pm Wednesday night, Starsky was pacing the floor of an unfamiliar hospital. He had been banned to the hallway. The nurse and orderly had practically manhandling him out of the emergency room. Doctor Hutchinson too, insisted that he should stay out until they got his best friend and partner stable. The slick glossy floor squeaked under his Adidas as he frantically paced up and down the hall. That damn familiar antiseptic hospital smell assaulted his nostrils again. His heart was pounding in his ribcage. As much as Hutch hated being a patient, Starsky hated being on that side of the waiting-room door.

As he paced, his mind shot off into every directions of what could have gone wrong. I don't understand. I don't know what I did wrong. Did I miss something? He seemed better this morning. How did this develop so quickly? His emotions were trying to choke out the air in his chest. God Hutch, What did I do wrong? Please, you have to be alright. This just can't be happening. I've got to be with you. Come on Doc, I need him. Fear was chipping away at his steadfast emotions. I have to be strong for you Hutch. He tried to pull himself together. But this was Hutch, the man possessing his heart and soul.

He looked up and realized that he had worried himself into a corner. He turned and paced himself back to the main hall to the room that his precious partner was in. He stalled in front of the door and thought heavily about storming in. He took in a deep breath and turned away.

Short of an hour later, Doctor Hutchinson finally came out and spoke to him.

"Well doc, how is he?" Starsky's nerves had raced the words from him.

"Looks like he picked up a viral infection from one of his visits to the hospital. Possibly within the last few days. He also has a light case of bronchitis."

"He had to have the cut on his backside reopened and cleaned out. That was… five days ago." Starsky had to do a quick recap of the last week in his head. "But we've been staying on top of it with the antibiotic creams and pills that he's been prescribed."

"This is something different. Sometimes people, who have had their immune system down, in his case mainly from the blood loss, can sometimes pick up a bug that harbor around hospitals. It wasn't anything that you had done wrong. It was just something that occasionally happens."

"So it didn't have anything to do with the infection from before?" Starsky asked.

"No. I've put him on a couple stronger medications and have an IV in him for fluids. The dehydration didn't help his condition. We need to make sure that he gets plenty of fluids in him over the next couple days. The IV will help right now."

The weight of anxiety that had been crushing his emotions suddenly fell from him. He was able to breathe. His chest opened and allowed a deep breath. But hearing that Hutch had a needle and tube in him sent a bit of panic through him. He knows that when his friend wakes up, that Hutch was going to panic.

"Doc, I need to be with him." His tone and determined look was one that he used at Memorial Hospital back home. They knew that he meant business, but here, they weren't familiar with the two detectives and he may have trouble with the nursing staff. When it comes to Hutch, he would do anything to make sure that that man knew that he wasn't alone or scared. And if that meant that he was going to resort to going on the offense, then that's what he'll do. He can 'bulldog-it' just as well as his fare-haired partner. He braced himself for a fight.

"Sure, I had him placed in a private room down the hall." Being the infamous Dr. Hutchinson had some pull around the place.

Starsky was slightly taken aback to the easy result of his demand. "How long does he need to be here?" Starsky asked as he eased his posture and emotions slightly. They slowly walked down the hall to the room that Hutch was placed in.

"I would prefer that we keep him for the night."

"Doc, he'll fight it. Ken is a great cop, but a lousy patient. You might get a couple hours out of him, but that's stretching it."

"Well, let's give him time to take in the fluids, and then we'll see about getting him to the house." The doctor stopped at the room that his son was in.

Starsky pushed the door open and quickly, but softly, made his way to his partner's side.

There was a soft lighting coming from the light above the head of the bed. The over head light was off. The light from the hall had also entered the room from the open door and helped to brighten the room.

The nurse that had been looking over the big blond patient, eyed the doctor, nodded then exited the room. Doctor Hutchinson walked over to the far side of the bed and checked on the fluids and then took a look at his vitals. Satisfied with his progress he stepped around the bed to the curly haired man that stood next to his son who was quietly sleeping.

"I'll be back in a little bit. I need to make a call to his mother to let her know where we are. I'll leave you with him. I'll let the nurses know that you're to be left alone." He looked back at his son, then slowly turned and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

Starsky looked at his pale friend and let out a heavy breath of relief. His nerves were about to explode. He reached and pushed aside a few strands of white-gold from his eyes.

The soft artificial lighting from above the bed, laid out a silver sheen across his golden hair.

He lowered the safety rail on the bed, then pulled the room chair up close the bed and sat. The IV had been placed in Hutch's left hand. Starsky reached and took his right hand in his left. He ran his thumb across the back of his friend's knuckles. He needed to physically reconnect, to prove to his nerves that his best friend was still with him.

"Aww Hutch. What am I going to do with you? You're such a stubborn cuss sometimes. But you know, I love you anyways," he softly said. He squeezed the hand in his tighter. He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the edge of the bed. He held the blonds' hand in both of his. He hung his head and lightly placed his brow against their hands, he let his eyes drift lightly shut. He inhaled deeply and tried to get his heart to settle to a more controllable pace.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Hutch floated in the soft nothingness that surrounded him. There was no pain, no chills, no heat, just an easy emptiness.

He remembers that he was sleeping at his parent's house and for some reason Starsky had thrown him in the backseat of his dad's car. But now it all seemed as in a dream.

There was something that his senses picked up on. That smell, a smell that only hospitals emanated. Then he tried to think back to earlier. Did Starsky say something about a hospital? There was something, his dad and Starsky have been talking about taking him to the hospital. But he thought that he told him 'no'. He wasn't sure. At this point he wasn't too sure about anything. Thinking was too hard and exhausting and all he wanted to do was sleep.

He felt his right hand being tenderly caressed. The touch was familiar. Starsky was with him. He raised his left hand. There was a slight resistance. He tried once again, and again it felt restricted.

He took in a breath and slightly lifted his heavy eyelids. He looked around, the room was a dull umber, and looked unfamiliar to him. He turned his head to the side and tried to see what was catching his hand. As he did, he recognized a clear plastic tube running down to his left arm.

Instantly, sheer panic raced through him. Nooo! His breath quickened with the thought of drugs running through his veins. He suddenly jerked his right hand away from Starskys' and went to grab for the offending tube. Starsky instantly flung open his eyes and reached over Hutch's chest for his arm.

"Hutch!" Starsky grabbed his arm and stopped it before he was able to snag the tubing from the back of his hand. "No buddy, leave it alone!" Starsky's heart was frantically pounding in his chest with the sudden panic of his friend.

"No! D..drugs. C…can't." He yanked his arm free from his friend's grip, and again tried to snatch out the IV.

Starsky, now standing, held firmly onto Hutch's arm, pulling it back. "Hutch. Look at me buddy!" He held his arm tight with his left, as his right hand went to the blonds' head. He turned it so Hutch would look at him. He could see that Hutch was not only confused but there was an overpowering look of fear over the possibility that there were drugs running into him.

"Easy buddy. It's only fluids and antibiotics. Come on Hutch, look at me. It's alright. Trust me." He knew that Hutch was going to fight and he should have expected something like this from his drug-paranoid friend. Since Ben Forrest and living through that Heroin induced nightmare, he was ready for Hutch to do anything, even ripping out his own IV.

"S..Starsk…can't. D..drugs." He blinked heavily as he came to realize that he had lost the battle. He was exhausted anyways. His mind also felt unattached. He looked up at his friend. Starsky looked back with determined but yet reassuring eyes.

"It's alright. OK? You're alright." Realizing that Hutch had gave up the fight, he relaxed his grip on his friend's arm a bit. "How you feeling?" He ran the back of his hand down the side of the blond's strong jaw.

"Where?" His eyes drifted shut again. The question took to much effort.

"You're dad's hospital. You seem to have caught a bug during one of your visits at Memorial. But your dad says that ya gonna to be fine. Just going to put some fluids in you, then it's back to that mansion on the hill."

"D…drugs S..starsk." his voice was soft and on edge of breaking down. The stammer making it evident that he was emotionally drained. He was scared.

"How would you know, you've slept through the evening."

"Two of you... floating…" He opened his eyes again and saw those sea blue eyes looking deep at him, looking right into his soul.

"Well…Ok, if there's liquor in that bottle, the least you could do is offer some," said with a small smile. "Though I don't recall your father saying anything about pain meds." Starsky tried to convince his drug-paranoid friend as well as himself. Drugs and his fair haired friend…they just did not mix well together. It would be easier to mix water and oil. With the slight crises over, he reached and swiped a few blond strands back away from his face.

"You know pal, if you are looking to replace me for a better looking nurse to give you your sponge baths, you could have just said so."

"You're… moron. I wanna…go home," he softly slurred out, his voice as tired as the rest of his body. A couple coughs rolled their way up and escaped.

"Well, we're going to lay here and let you finish this bottle first, and then we'll see what your dad says."

"No, home. I don't want…. family… see me..." He turned his face away from his friend. "I..m..messed up S..Starsk."

"Hutch, now listen to me. Your family understands that you're not well." He lovingly turned Hutch's face so that he could see him eye to eye. Blue to blue.

"Come on babe…I'm right here with you. You're going to by fine. I just think that right now your fever has ya messed up. Now if you want, I can try to get that pretty nurse back in here to fuss all over ya. I think she's in love with one great looking Viking."

Hutch gave him a weak smile. "Just see if… I…leave. Want…out of here."

"Sure, your dad should be back in a few minutes. Then we'll get you back to the house and to bed." He ran his right hand down the blonds' arm. He eased his right hip onto the side of the bed. "You know, I don't recall a trip to the hospital being on the agenda for this trip. We need to fire your event coordinator," he said with a small smile.

He took Hutch's hand in his left and held it. He ran his thumb back and forth across the cool flesh on the back of his wrist. His right hand tenderly cupped his face. Hutch closed his eyes and turned his head into the reassuring bliss of his friend's touch. The touch swept over him as a warm blanket.

They settled in and waited until the bottle of fluids was empty.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

1:45 a.m. Thursday morning, Starsky was slowly settling a now hydrated and medicated Hutch back into bed at his parents house. Doctor Hutchinson and he had slowly and carefully gotten him home and up the stairs.

"He should sleep more comfortably now. The medication and fluids will help keep the fever down and he can rest easier." The two men stood back from the bed as Hutch stirred slightly.

"Thanks Doc. I want to say, I appreciate everything that you've done for him."

"He's my son." He looked into the blue eyes of the shorter man.

"Yes Sir, he is, "Starsky reciprocated. The tone saying more then words. The way he said it let the older Hutchinson know that maybe the two needed to reconnect and remember that there was a father and son relationship there. It was a relationship that needed to be healed.

"Well, I'll see you in the morning. If you need anything, please let me know." With that said he turned and left the two men to themselves. He knew that his son was in caring hands and if there was another emergency, his son's partner would let him know.

Starsky turned and went back to the bed his friend was sleeping in. Hutch had rolled to the middle of the bed. He pulled the sheet and bedspread down to made sure that the extra pillows were placed against his back and one against his chest. He pulled the cover back up over Hutch's shoulders.

He sat on the edge of the bed behind him and tenderly ran his hand through silken platinum-blond strands. They were feather light, and the softness could make any girl start to swoon. He just needed that touch, the reconnection. It was a silent act of love. He then ran his hand gently over Hutch's shoulder as he turned to get up and leave.

"Starsk…?" as before, in that softness that Starsky almost didn't hear. He stopped, turned back around and leaned closer to his friend.

"Yeah buddy?"

Hutch turned his head slightly and willed his lead-heavy eyelids to open, "stay?"

"Sure. I'll be right back." Starsky got off the bed, went through the shared bathroom to his room and changed into his dark blue pajama bottoms and a light blue tee-shirt. Barefooted, he plodded back to his friend's room. He went to the door, flipped the room light-switch off and the room instantly dulled. Then he locked the door. The last thing that he needed was Hutch's father or mother to stroll in and find him in bed with their son. As innocent as their relationship was, they just wouldn't understand.

They themselves didn't understand the whole relationship they had. They had given up trying to analyze it during their time at the academy. It held such a power over them that they just left it as it was. Two people bonded at a level that went beyond logic.

Starsky gently climbed up in the big bed. With Hutch already in the middle of the king size bed, he had plenty of room. He moved as close as he could. The pillows along Hutch's back and behind his legs were between them. He lay slightly back-to-back with him. His left arm propped on the pillow between them. Hutch slowly rolled, reached around behind himself and gently took Starsky's arm. He gave it a weak squeeze. Then rolled slightly back over, not quit onto his left side but not on his back either, and hugged his pillow to his chest.

"Thanks Starsk," he got out with a heavy breath.

"For what?"

"For loving me," softly said like in an afterthought.

"Go to sleep Blondie." Starsky knew that they didn't have to say it for the other to know. They rarely ever did, their hearts told them, speaking louder then the spoken words ever could. He reached behind himself and lightly patted Hutch's side. "You know that I always will," softly said back.

The soft rhythm of the rain on the window panes slowly enticed him into a light sleep. But with his partner's slight setback though, his subconscious was left on Hutch alert. The pinging of raindrops was slowly pulling him into a light slumber. The rest of the night went uneventful.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

8:30 Thursday morning, Starsky was letting the hot water run down his body. He stood with his hands propped against the stone and marble of the shower stall. The glass door, frosted with an elaborate etching of trees on it, was closed and trapped the steam that drifted up and around him. He leaned heavily forward and allowed the water to wash over him.

The last twenty four hours had been emotionally draining with the very early morning, the long flight and the unfortunate encounter and death of a cop. Then there was a trip to the hospital with his sick and notoriously stubborn partner. His partner and friend of more then eight years.

Hutch was his pillar of strength when he needed him. He gave him the strength and determination to stand up alone against the world when he needed to. And yet Hutch was the one who needed him, needed him to be strong. Hutch was solely dependent him, no matter what the circumstances. And he had an equal dependency of Hutch. To always be there when the other was in need. And now was that time when Hutch required that strength back. And he would give it without hesitation.

It's a life of give and take for them, to give and take the love and strength that they shared. It was such a natural thing they didn't have to think about it. It just flowed like a river between them, a never ending caress on their hearts.

Hutch slowly walked into the bathroom, stood at the counter, then leaned heavily on it. His head hung low between his shoulders. He glanced up into the mirror. He decided that he looked a little better. He wasn't sure how he felt. The occasional cough would catch him unaware. The congestion was going to take some time to ease completely. Though the fever had receded down some and he could think a little better, though last night was still fuzzy.

Starsky shut off the water and slowly swung open the shower door.

"Well good morning Sleeping Beauty. How do ya feel this morning?" He asked as he reached for the large towel that hung from an elaborate towel holder. He looked his friend over. Hutch did look a little better, some color back in his cheeks and they weren't so shallow. His eyes had life back in them.

"I feel like I was run over by a truck." He took in a deep breath. His chest was tight, but less painful.

"I bet you do. Your father pumped some fluids and antibiotics into ya. Can't say if he threw in something stronger into the mix though." Starsky told him as he toweled off.

With his head hanging low, "your job was to keep that from happening," he glared over to his partner.

"Well buddy, that stubborn Hutchinson streak of yours got you in trouble and your father was just trying to bail you out. He stopped by the room earlier. I told him that you were still in Lala land. Said that he had a couple patients that he had to go take care of, he would then be home the rest of the day. You up for a quick shower? Then we'll get you dressed and then buddy boy, you're going to have a full breakfast."

"Dr. Starsky's orders?"

"You keep forgetting, that's Frankenstein to you. Now undress and in the shower." Starsky smiled at him in the mirror. Hutch did as he was ordered.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Thirty minutes later, Hutch was dressed in his light pink turtleneck and dark cords. The two men slowly made their way down the stairs and to the kitchen. Lillian Hutchinson was standing with her back to them, when they walked in.

"Good morning Mom," Hutch said gently as he came up behind her. She turned and looked up at her son. Her petite stature, a mere five foot three, was dwarfed by her six foot one tall son.

"Good morning my dear," she stood on tiptoes, reached up and gave him a kiss on his cheek as he bent over. His right hand wrapped around her waist, holding the cane in his left. "I'm so glad that you made it home. Your father told me what happened last night. He told me that you weren't feeling well. I'm glad to see you're feeling better this morning."

"Mom, I'd like you to meet David," Hutch said as he took a step back and allowed his friend to step forward. He was trying to direct the conversation away from his health.

"David, I'm so glad to finally meet you in person. Kenny has told me so much about you over the years."

"I'm glad to meet you too," he told her as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"I know that you boys must be hungry. Let me make you something to eat. I have to leave in about an hour for town, but your father should be home around one this afternoon."

"Mom, David and I have to drive into town this morning as well, but we'll be back," he said as he sat down on one of the bar stools at the counter that separated the kitchen and the main room.

"Um…I forgot to tell ya," Starsky cleared his throat, "I made a call earlier this morning and postponed that errand until tomorrow. We're relaxing and taking it easy today." Starsky smiled at his friend. Hutch shook his head and rolled his eyes. His overprotective friend, it seems, was making the decisions this day.

"Ken you need to eat. David what would you like?" she smiled and eyed the brunet.

For the next hour, Hutch and his partner sat and chatted with his mom as she fixed a meal for the two of them. Hutch forced himself, but was able to get most, not all, but most of his meal down. Starsky kept an eye on him and with an occasional smile let him know that he was monitoring his intake.

They sat and talked about the latest gossip in the community. Hutch caught up with news about some of the people from his past, old schoolmates and friends. They talked about Stacy and her husband and how his sister was enjoying her career, and how his dad was so proud of her as she rises up the corporate ladder in architecture and design.

He wasn't jealous of his sister, he just wished that his father would show some of that same enthusiasm towards his own career. Yes, the life he chose wasn't what his father wanted him to be, but it was a life that was important to him and those around him.

Being a homicide and robbery detective in the inner-city was the toughest job the force could offer. His partner and he had worked hard to get where they are. They were respected by a lot of the officers, young and older, that were still walking the streets. Even some of their old academy instructors were amazed of what they had accomplished in such a short time. To rise up to Detective Sergeant First Class, and into a homicide division, in such a short time, proved that they had a gift for the work. Each in their own way, but together, they were the top team.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Early afternoon Thursday, found the two detectives relaxing and taking it easy. Hutch sat and thumbed through the latest outdoor magazines that his father had. Starsky sat and read a couple of the doctor's car magazines. Even a game of chess was played. Starsky let him win.

The early afternoon showed the same cloudy overcast as the day before, but the morning weatherman had promised clear skies for later that day. The high temperature was going to be a balmy 47 degrees. Starsky just shook his head. Just twenty four hours ago it was spring, now they were thrown back into winter weather.

Starsky, making sure that Hutch was bundled up and protected against the cold air. The two men strolled down to the boathouse. Hutch wanted to show him his father's other pride and joy. They slowly walked to the shoreline and strolled out to the large boathouse that sat at the end and on the left side of the wooden dock.

Hutch unlocked the door and they entered. The roof was protecting the boats from any weather that Lake Superior could throw out. To the right, the boats sat moored. The garage doors behind the boats kept them safe. To the left side, the decking expanded into a large seating area. It was furnished with a couple Adirondack style chairs, lounges and tables. There were three large skylights in the roof. A small dressing room was off to the right of the seating area. It was a place for large gatherings and parties. The boathouse was just as impressive as the lakeside house.

There were two slips surrounded by the large decking. In the smaller slip, the thirty three foot Lancer speedboat rested and bobbed up and down as the soft water rolled ever so slightly under it. In the left slip sat the larger forty-two foot cabin cruiser.

Starsky stood momentarily stunned and looked at the speedboat. As much as he didn't care for the water, he was very tempted to ask to take it out. Cold weather and all, he didn't care. It looked like it had just as much power as the cars parked in the garages.

The power of speed under your butt can start the adrenalin rushing through you and it seemed that the doctor was just as addicted to it as they were. The doc chased that need with the speed from the cars and boats and of course with being a doctor. But their own rush of adrenalin came from living the life of cops.

Hutch informed him that his father also is a member of the Duluth Yacht Club and had even done some nautical races with the cabin cruiser.

Yep, that iceberg sure was getting bigger as the visit got longer. First the house, the cars, and now the boats.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky thought to himself. With all the riches that Hutch came from, how did his best friend and partner end up to be the man that he is? Was the life of the rich and famous that bad, that he would do a complete 180 degree turn and leave it all behind? But then again the argument that he witnessed the day before, could also be just an indication that life wasn't as grand for the rich, as they portrayed it to be. Having wealth was one thing. Being happy with your life was something that you can't buy.

At this point, he wasn't going to dwell on it. If Hutch had decided to stay in med school, then his own life wouldn't be the one he has now. There was no telling what kind of life he would have. He preferred the one that he had now. That would be with one beautiful and brilliant, Midwesterner by his side.

The two men closed the boathouse and went back up to the house. The cold air had agitated Hutch's throat and lungs and a couple coughs roared out.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Two pm Thursday, and the doctor did a quick assessment of his son, who stubbornly tried to reject the attention. But he forgot that today, his partner and friend was making the decisions, and Starsky had agreed with the quick physical checkup of his friend. Hutch allowed the brief look-over by his father. His temperature was down, not back to normal, but far from the raging fever during the night before. He was looking better now that he had gotten some fluids and food into himself. His father was satisfied. But rest was still prescribed for the rest of the day and tomorrow.

The rest of the afternoon was spent with the three men casually talking. That invisible line was still drawn, so the subject of Hutch's injuries were steered clear of. They talked lightly about Stacy and her husband, the boats and racing. They chatted about some trips to Europe that his parents had taken. Hutch's mom was also covered and how she enjoyed the high society life, and about how she does so much for the community as well.

The doctor took Starsky out to the garage and showed off the cars to him. Hutch stood back and enjoyed the fact that his father and partner actually got along. He had feared that the two men would butt heads. But it seems that his friend and father had a little more in common then he had thought.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

10:45 Friday morning, Starsky once again was behind the driving force of the Corvette. The two detectives went into town to finish with the reports on the unfortunate death of the LAPD cop that had tried to murder Hutch. Lt. Myers was satisfied with the report and informed the two men that everything was taken care of and that Captain Walker at LAPD was already informed. The body of Andrew was being sent back to LA later that afternoon. If there was any more information needed that they hadn't covered, then the Lieutenant would get a hold of them in Bay City. At this point the case was closed.

Starsky slowly drove the 'Vette through town as Hutch again pointed out some of the city's historical landmarks. Starsky would glance over at his friend every once in a while, as Hutch described a certain building or park. Hutch normally wasn't the one that would chatter, but today Hutch talked him through some of the historical points of interest in the city.

Starsky couldn't hide a smile. He was just thrilled to have his partner and friend back on the road to recovery and sitting next to him. His partner and friend. It wasn't a relationship that could be boxed up and defined. It was too unique that neither of them could describe it. It just simply...was.

They slowly made their way back to the house and again Hutch was restricted to a casual afternoon with a good meal, fluids and rest. As much as he hated to admit, he did feel better with the strict agenda set by his partner.

That afternoon Hutch and his father casually sat together. There was a different air around them as they talked. The doc had a couple days to absorb the fact, that his only son could have lost his life. But he was fortunate to have someone in his life to pull him back from the brink. The talk a lot lighter and as the subject of Hutch's work came up, the doctor was actually interested in his detective work. There was no resentment or anger about his decision on becoming a cop. There was just a genuine interest in his work. The doc also asked his son about his partner and their life as a team and friends.

A man of his stature and social ranking wouldn't accept the touches and words used between his son and friend, but for some reason, one he couldn't comprehend, the closeness between his son and partner didn't bother him. There was such easiness between them that life just…flowed. He was pleasantly surprised that he liked this man that his son shared his life with.

Hutch talked about his partner along with some of the more colorful characters that were in their life. He felt relaxed talking to his father. More relaxed then during the past years. But he still steered clear of some of the more horrific topics that occurred over the past eight years, mainly things that happened to himself or his cherished partner.

The talk went better than he had thought. Starsky was right his father didn't go off the deep end.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Saturday afternoon, Stacy and her husband arrived at the house. Hutch and Starsky were sitting and watching a soft fire in the fireplace that Hutch's dad decided to light. With the weather still in the low forties, the fire made for a nice and cozy diversion.

Hutch, having rested the last couple days, by order of his father and overprotective nursemaid of partner, felt better and was now able to get up and down with little or no help from his partner. Therefore he got up unaided when his sister entered the room. Starsky stood, too.

Stacy quickly crossed the room to greet her brother. Her dark brunette hair flowed around her face. She had her mother's features, as Hutch had some of his fathers. She instantly noticed the cane.

"Kenny, I'm so glad that you made it home. Are you alright? I didn't know that you had been hurt. You made the trip here like that? And who is this handsome man next to you? You must be David. Kenny has told us so much about you. Has Daddy gotten a look at you? Kenny you know Luke. Luke this is David, my brother's partner…" and she just kept going on.

Luke shook hands with his brother-in-law, and then greeted his partner. Starsky could do nothing but smile as Stacy kept her pace. She walked through the room chattering. First with them, then she left to find her father in his study. Afterwards she went to check with her mother and got caught up with the party plans. Now Starsky understood why Hutch had such a hard time on the phone with her when she called. She chatted none stop.

Over the next hour, the young doctor and the two detectives sat and talked. The conversation turned to life in California and being detectives. Hutch seemed to be a little more at ease talking with his brother-in-law about their work. They also talked about life in Duluth.

A short time later, Hutch excused them and they went up to change for the party.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky stepped out of the bathroom to check and see if his partner needed any help. He looked up, brushing off his slacks and walking at the same time. He stopped in his tracks. He stood up straight.

Hutch stood next to the bed. Starsky had seen his partner dressed up in tuxedos and dress jackets for court, but he had never seen Hutch dressed casually for a high society party. This was a side Hutch had never shown. There was a handsome man, and then there was a man of beauty. Hutch was just that, a man of distinguished beauty.

"Well, what do you think?"

Starsky eyed him from head to toe, "Just missing the towel on ya arm and bottle of champagne." He joked. "I always knew that you were the All American Poster Boy, Hutchinson. Think I might be a little under dressed. I can't compete with this." He walked over to his friend.

"This isn't a competition Starsk…just a party. I think you look great." Hutch looked his friend over. He reached over and straightened the back of his collar. He checked and saw a couple chocolate curls had sprung in the wrong direction. He patted them back into place.

"Well this is why we flew out here. You ready buddy?" Hutch asked as he reached for his cane. He took in a deep breath and they proceeded towards the bedroom door.

"After you my good man. Let the party begin." Starsky opened the door and they proceeded to the staircase.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

Starsky and Hutch descended the staircase next to each other. Light and dark, side by side.

Hutch dressed in a white turtleneck, with a white evening jacket, and white slacks. His blond hair a shimmer of platinum and gold, brushed into perfection. Dressed in an all white attire and he was a beautiful angelic vision of pure bliss. His lake blue eyes beamed and could give any mountain lake a run for its money. And that smile…simply beautiful. He was flawless, like an unveiled dream.

Starsky dressed in a dark shirt of deep brown, dark jacket, and accentuated with dark trousers. He too, looked as if he had walked out of a high fashion magazine. All dark, his sea blue eyes and sweet smile, could make any woman forget what breathing was about.

His father walked to the base of the stairs. "I think that this would suit you better. It was your grandfathers." He handed his son a walking stick. It was made of black maple with a silver lion's head as a handle. Pure elegance.

Hutch looked it over. It would fit the party, but he was just as happy with the plain one from the hospital afterwards. For tonight he would play the role of the prodigal son and allow his father to carry his head a little higher. And with his grandfather's cane in hand, his attire was complete.

"Aww… Kenny and David, you two are so handsome. I don't understand why you boys haven't found a lovely lady and settled down yet," Hutch's mom said as she approached.

"Big brother, you look like a dream. And you Dave…if I wasn't already married," Stacy stated with a big smile as she walked up to the two detectives. She stood between both men and took hold of their arms. They walked across the room arm in arm.

"Daddy we need to get pictures. It's not too often that we can all get together. Luke go grab the camera. Daddy lets take them over by the fireplace." Stacy was directing the scene now.

Luke retrieved the camera and the Hutchinson family portrait was snapped, then some with just the parents, and then just the kids. There were even a couple with Ken and Dave together. Stacy promising that she would send them to California.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

The party was a big success. The Yacht Club's grand-room classically decorated. The catering was high class and simply the best in town. It seemed that just about everyone that Hutch had known in his past was there. His father walked and stood near his son and introduced him with a little more pride. His son the detective. He had come to terms that he almost lost his son, and that no matter what his son's career choice was, it was that fact that his son was still with them that mattered. The party eased into the late night on a high note.

S/H+++S/H+++S/H+++S/H

9:30am Wednesday, two weeks later, Hutch was thumbing through the file cabinet next to the coffee maker. He had been cleared by the departmental doctor for desk work two days ago, but only part time. He was just thrilled to get out of the house those four hours a day and back doing what he did best. And that was being a detective.

"Starsk…what did you do with the Pinkerton file? You know the one that was sitting on my desk."

Starsky, perched on the back of his chair, licked his finger free of the jelly that had escaped the center of the donut he was munching on. He glanced at his own side of the desk and then to the pile of file folders that sat in the middle of their shared, and now cluttered desks. Typewriter, files, magazines, donut bag, coffee cups and a desk somewhere underneath it all. "I think it's three down from the top," he got out between bites. He too been released from the department's doctor and cleared by the gun range. He opted for the desk work until his partner was ready to hit the streets again.

Hutch turned around and spied the needed folder. "Hay…you and Becky want to see the new western that just came out? Jessie is flying in this afternoon. Thought, that we'd catch a late show."

"Umm…as long as it's not too late. We're getting an early start, going rock crawling in her truck, early. You two want to come?" He asked as he finished off the last of the donut.

"Naw, maybe next time around. You two go and enjoy playing in the dirt."

"We will." Starsky stepped off his chair and planted his feet on the floor. "Come on. We need to get going. We have that appointment to go to."

Hutch set the folder back down on his desk and stood momentarily. His cane looped over his arm. He was just about at the point that he wasn't going to need it anymore. The limp was still there but not as pronounced. The bronchitis and chest wrap were gone. The only thing left now were the last of the sutures in his butt. They were coming out in two days. The bruising on his leg and hip had faded drastically and only about two more weeks from completely being gone.

"Yeah…alright," he said hesitatingly. He looked over at his dark haired counterpart. He received a reassuring glance and wink back.

It was going to be the second visit to the psychiatrist for the two detectives. Starsky was coming to terms that he wasn't responsible for his brother's disapproval of his friendship and life with his partner. Hutch was trying to come to terms with having been a victim and the emotional toll that can come with it. He was opening up to his friend and very patient partner. The doctor was going to take longer.

"You know summthin' Hutch?" Starsky asked as they approached the squad room doors.

"What's that?"

"You could always ask your father to have her shipped out here."

"Starsk…the car stays in storage. I have enough problems with you in that stripped tomato of yours."

"We could always take her to the track. I'd race ya."

Hutch smiled that big Hutchinson smile. He poked a finger at his partner's chest. "And I'd beat you every time, buddy."

Starsky couldn't help but beam a big crooked smile at him. Hutch was still with him at his side. And each still possessing other's heart and soul.

End