ERASED Continued...
Chapter 13. Unzipping the past
Two days passed without any incident. Starsky was not disturbed by any flash memories, and seemed to relax and enjoy their time in the beach house. He even went for a dip in the sea. They went out for short walks in the evening, though Starsky still wasn't feeling very comfortable with the sound of the waves. Hutch prepared most of their meals, and Starsky helped him as much as possible. Sometimes he'd find Starsky napping on the living room floor, together with Shaye, who only pretended to be sleeping for Starsky's sake. She was always on alert when Starsky fell asleep on the floor, Hutch noted.
Chapter 13. Unzipping the past
Two days passed without any incident. Starsky was not disturbed by any flash memories, and seemed to relax and enjoy their time in the beach house. He even went for a dip in the sea. They went out for short walks in the evening, though Starsky still wasn't feeling very comfortable with the sound of the waves. Hutch prepared most of their meals, and Starsky helped him as much as possible. Sometimes he'd find Starsky napping on the living room floor, together with Shaye, who only pretended to be sleeping for Starsky's sake. She was always on alert when Starsky fell asleep on the floor, Hutch noted.
Hutch also noticed how Starsky watched him sometimes. Hutch knew that his movements and words were being scrutinized, processed, chopped, and sliced. That didn't bother him, but then, sometimes Starsky had a frown on his face and a distant look. That, he didn't like.
"What's bugging you?" asked Hutch.
After finishing his supper, Starsky was at the bay windows, sitting on the floor and watching the crashing waves. It was getting dark, and the moon was rising in the distance. "Something really bad is about to happen. I can't shake off that feeling," he said glumly.
"What do you mean?"
Starsky turned around and looked up at Hutch standing beside him. "I -- just... Hutch, please don't get me wrong. I see-- I know that you care about me, but something tells me that I shouldn't be with you."
Hutch knew why, but he couldn't tell anything to Starsky. He had to remember it by himself. "Do you feel that you can't trust me?"
"No… no. It's more like… I shouldn't be with you. Like it's wrong or bad or—it'd end up in something bad-" Starsky shook his head, frustrated. "I just don't understand."
Hutch cringed inwardly at the thought of how much Starsky would suffer remembering that last piece of his memory. Having two days without any incident was too good to be true. It was too calm and too quiet. Was a storm brewing up, and was this the calmness before it hits? Hutch had to take the next step no matter how much it'd hurt Starsky.
Hutch stepped out of the beach house and walked over to his car. He opened the trunk and picked up Starsky's travelling bag he had brought from Starsky's apartment; the one that was left unopened. The one from Starsky's LA trip.
"Starsk... I think it's time to open this bag now." Hutch said, dropping the luggage at Starsky's feet where he still sat by the windows.
Starsky eyed the bag with disgust. "Why the hell did you bring this here?"
"You haven't unpacked it. Why?" Hutch asked.
Starsky fell silent. "Because I didn't want to. I didn't need to," he mumbled.
"Don't you think it's time to let the cat out of the bag, Starsky?"
"For two days," Starsky said, pushing the bag away from him. "For two days, I slept without nightmares, without Leo's voice in my head, without puking my guts out. The damn cat can stay in the bag, for all I care."
"You put most of the stuff in there by yourself, so why are you afraid to pull them out?"
Starsky fumbled with the zipper of the bag. "At the hospital- Damian told me that you and I were on 'vacation'- that we went to see couple of museums and a flower garden... right?"
"Botanical Garden, yes."
"Did we… did we look at lilies?"
"There were all sorts of flowers and plants in there, Starsk, and yes... there were lilies too. Why?"
"Did you tell me that they were toxic or somethin'?"
Hutch arched an eye brow. "You remembered that?" he asked, wistfully.
"No, but wasn't sure how I knew it."
Starsky removed the items from the bag one by one. "Did we buy these when we were in LA?" he asked, piling up the jeans and tees they had bought during their shopping trip.
Hutch nodded.
The contents of the whole bag were out, but the memories weren't. Hutch sighed. He couldn't hide his disappointment. He had been so sure Starsky would remember something when he started to unpack the LA bag. Why didn't he? Is it because Starsky already 'knew' about the museums and botanical garden visit from Damian? So he already had a version of it in his mind, and there was no reason for him to remember them? If that was the case it's vital not to tell him or prompt his memory with my words. He has to remember by himself. He has to remember his own version of the days.
"Not the cat you expected, huh?" Starsky asked smugly at the forlorn expression on Hutch's face.
"What's the first thing you remembered about me?" Hutch asked.
"Red socks and white blankets," Starsky replied immediately.
That was at the Holiday Inn. No one but the two of us knew what happened over there, and I never told him about it. "What was the second?"
"The cold shower, and all that... why?"
Again... no one had revealed any of those events. Then the dreams- they originated from the ordeal he went through at the hands of Leo, again, no one had interfered with the memories. "I was just wondering what made you remember what you remembered."
"And?"
"And that's just it, I was wondering." Hutch shrugged his shoulders.
Starsky snorted. Of course he didn't believe Hutch!
Hutch pushed all the clothes that were on the floor back into the bag and zipped it. He wasn't going to give up now. He moved to the next item that was on Starsky's scribbled list he found at the apartment; ice cream!
"Hey, Starsk? Would you like some ice cream?" Hutch asked, opening the fridge and taking out two cans of chocolate and vanilla ice cream he'd bought before they got to the beach house.
"I hate ice cream," Starsky said making a face.
"Since when?"
"Since... since… I don't know."
Hutch scooped some ice cream into a bowl. One scoop each from vanilla and chocolate and sprinkled chocolate chips on it. "Here… try it. It's good for you." Hutch pushed the bowl into Starsky's hand.
Starsky eyed the contents with interest and frowned. "How come you've given me only two scoops? And where's the caramel and chocolate sauce, and peanuts?"
Hutch almost dropped his bowl of ice cream. "Sauce? Peanuts?" Hutch asked, placing his ice cream on the nearby dining table. He knew what was coming.
"Yeah, you said the biggest ice cream I ever--" Starsky stopped. He took a deep breath, blood draining out of his face. "Aww, shit!"
Before Hutch could reach Starsky, the bowl of ice cream dropped on the floor, and so did Starsky. "You… you did this on purpose," Starsky yelled, clutching his stomach.
"Come on, Starsk. Wasn't like that. Come on, now." Hutch tried to pull him up, but Starsky pushed Hutch away.
"Don't," Starsky said fiercely. "Don't you dare touch me," he shouted as the pain shot through his skull. He pushed his head against the floor, closing his eyes as tight as possible. "I don't want to remember. Go away… go away, leave me alone. I don't want to remember," he croaked, his voice hoarse from screaming.
Ignoring all Starsky's warnings, Hutch held him by his shaking shoulders tightly. When Starsky didn't make any objections Hutch knelt and leaned forward. He rested his forehead on Starsky's back, and spoke softly. "Come on now. It's not that bad. It was just an ice cream, Starsk. Next time I'll make sure to have four scoops or even more if you want, and I promise to get all the toppings in the world."
Starsky's struggling didn't stop.
Afraid that Starsky would bruise his forehead by rubbing it on the floor, Hutch pulled Starsky up with him, making him lay between his legs. Starsky rested against Hutch's chest, making it easier for Hutch to control his movements.
"It hurts. God, it hurts." Starsky leaned the back of his head on Hutch's shoulder, clutching and pulling at his curls frantically as if it would stop the burning and hurting. "You did this to me, Hutch. You did this," he whimpered between labored and ragged breath.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Starsk. I had to. You know I had to." Holding Starsky against him, Hutch massaged his scalp trying to ease him away from the pain.
The two men sat on the floor, huddled together, until Starsky's breathing became normal, until he stopped sweating, and long after the sweating that got soaked onto Hutch's tee had dried up. The pool of melted ice-cream glistened in moonlight that streamed through the window. The liquidized dessert made patterns of white and brown on the floor with the chocolate chips scattered in it.
"Feeling better?" Hutch broke the silence.
"Yeah, headache's gone." Starsky snuggled in a little bit as if he was feeling cold.
Hutch circled his arms around him and rested his chin on Starsky's head. Starsky didn't object; he sighed and lay still.
Being allowed to hold Starsky filled Hutch's heart with hope and happiness. He didn't want to move an inch. He didn't want to move at all. But he kept twitching his nose because Starsky's dark stubborn curls tickled him. It was all dark around them now except for the moonlight. "So what did you remember?"
"You started with a botany lesson, and ended up buying ice-cream for me," Starsky chuckled.
He remembered it all right.
"We didn't do anything we weren't supposed to do. Did we, Hutch?" Starsky's question made Hutch smile again.
You are not going to get that answer from me, Starsk… no matter how much you try, you are not going to get me to say anything.
Hutch tilted his head and smiled, refusing to be baited. "Depends on what you define as what we were 'not supposed' to do, Starsk!"
Starsky sighed.
Hutch gently massaged his arms. He wanted run his hands all along Starsky's body. He longed to kiss Starsky, like the way Starsky had kissed him senseless during the days they were together. But Hutch had to control his feelings and action for a little bit longer. Starsky still didn't remember how he felt about Hutch, and Hutch wouldn't do anything to damage any little trust Starsky had of him. He'd never hurt Starsky. Never! When Starsky comes to him, it'd be on Starsky's terms; when he's ready, and only when Starsky had regained all of his memories.
"What's bugging you?" asked Hutch.
After finishing his supper, Starsky was at the bay windows, sitting on the floor and watching the crashing waves. It was getting dark, and the moon was rising in the distance. "Something really bad is about to happen. I can't shake off that feeling," he said glumly.
"What do you mean?"
Starsky turned around and looked up at Hutch standing beside him. "I -- just... Hutch, please don't get me wrong. I see-- I know that you care about me, but something tells me that I shouldn't be with you."
Hutch knew why, but he couldn't tell anything to Starsky. He had to remember it by himself. "Do you feel that you can't trust me?"
"No… no. It's more like… I shouldn't be with you. Like it's wrong or bad or—it'd end up in something bad-" Starsky shook his head, frustrated. "I just don't understand."
Hutch cringed inwardly at the thought of how much Starsky would suffer remembering that last piece of his memory. Having two days without any incident was too good to be true. It was too calm and too quiet. Was a storm brewing up, and was this the calmness before it hits? Hutch had to take the next step no matter how much it'd hurt Starsky.
Hutch stepped out of the beach house and walked over to his car. He opened the trunk and picked up Starsky's travelling bag he had brought from Starsky's apartment; the one that was left unopened. The one from Starsky's LA trip.
"Starsk... I think it's time to open this bag now." Hutch said, dropping the luggage at Starsky's feet where he still sat by the windows.
Starsky eyed the bag with disgust. "Why the hell did you bring this here?"
"You haven't unpacked it. Why?" Hutch asked.
Starsky fell silent. "Because I didn't want to. I didn't need to," he mumbled.
"Don't you think it's time to let the cat out of the bag, Starsky?"
"For two days," Starsky said, pushing the bag away from him. "For two days, I slept without nightmares, without Leo's voice in my head, without puking my guts out. The damn cat can stay in the bag, for all I care."
"You put most of the stuff in there by yourself, so why are you afraid to pull them out?"
Starsky fumbled with the zipper of the bag. "At the hospital- Damian told me that you and I were on 'vacation'- that we went to see couple of museums and a flower garden... right?"
"Botanical Garden, yes."
"Did we… did we look at lilies?"
"There were all sorts of flowers and plants in there, Starsk, and yes... there were lilies too. Why?"
"Did you tell me that they were toxic or somethin'?"
Hutch arched an eye brow. "You remembered that?" he asked, wistfully.
"No, but wasn't sure how I knew it."
Starsky removed the items from the bag one by one. "Did we buy these when we were in LA?" he asked, piling up the jeans and tees they had bought during their shopping trip.
Hutch nodded.
The contents of the whole bag were out, but the memories weren't. Hutch sighed. He couldn't hide his disappointment. He had been so sure Starsky would remember something when he started to unpack the LA bag. Why didn't he? Is it because Starsky already 'knew' about the museums and botanical garden visit from Damian? So he already had a version of it in his mind, and there was no reason for him to remember them? If that was the case it's vital not to tell him or prompt his memory with my words. He has to remember by himself. He has to remember his own version of the days.
"Not the cat you expected, huh?" Starsky asked smugly at the forlorn expression on Hutch's face.
"What's the first thing you remembered about me?" Hutch asked.
"Red socks and white blankets," Starsky replied immediately.
That was at the Holiday Inn. No one but the two of us knew what happened over there, and I never told him about it. "What was the second?"
"The cold shower, and all that... why?"
Again... no one had revealed any of those events. Then the dreams- they originated from the ordeal he went through at the hands of Leo, again, no one had interfered with the memories. "I was just wondering what made you remember what you remembered."
"And?"
"And that's just it, I was wondering." Hutch shrugged his shoulders.
Starsky snorted. Of course he didn't believe Hutch!
Hutch pushed all the clothes that were on the floor back into the bag and zipped it. He wasn't going to give up now. He moved to the next item that was on Starsky's scribbled list he found at the apartment; ice cream!
"Hey, Starsk? Would you like some ice cream?" Hutch asked, opening the fridge and taking out two cans of chocolate and vanilla ice cream he'd bought before they got to the beach house.
"I hate ice cream," Starsky said making a face.
"Since when?"
"Since... since… I don't know."
Hutch scooped some ice cream into a bowl. One scoop each from vanilla and chocolate and sprinkled chocolate chips on it. "Here… try it. It's good for you." Hutch pushed the bowl into Starsky's hand.
Starsky eyed the contents with interest and frowned. "How come you've given me only two scoops? And where's the caramel and chocolate sauce, and peanuts?"
Hutch almost dropped his bowl of ice cream. "Sauce? Peanuts?" Hutch asked, placing his ice cream on the nearby dining table. He knew what was coming.
"Yeah, you said the biggest ice cream I ever--" Starsky stopped. He took a deep breath, blood draining out of his face. "Aww, shit!"
Before Hutch could reach Starsky, the bowl of ice cream dropped on the floor, and so did Starsky. "You… you did this on purpose," Starsky yelled, clutching his stomach.
"Come on, Starsk. Wasn't like that. Come on, now." Hutch tried to pull him up, but Starsky pushed Hutch away.
"Don't," Starsky said fiercely. "Don't you dare touch me," he shouted as the pain shot through his skull. He pushed his head against the floor, closing his eyes as tight as possible. "I don't want to remember. Go away… go away, leave me alone. I don't want to remember," he croaked, his voice hoarse from screaming.
Ignoring all Starsky's warnings, Hutch held him by his shaking shoulders tightly. When Starsky didn't make any objections Hutch knelt and leaned forward. He rested his forehead on Starsky's back, and spoke softly. "Come on now. It's not that bad. It was just an ice cream, Starsk. Next time I'll make sure to have four scoops or even more if you want, and I promise to get all the toppings in the world."
Starsky's struggling didn't stop.
Afraid that Starsky would bruise his forehead by rubbing it on the floor, Hutch pulled Starsky up with him, making him lay between his legs. Starsky rested against Hutch's chest, making it easier for Hutch to control his movements.
"It hurts. God, it hurts." Starsky leaned the back of his head on Hutch's shoulder, clutching and pulling at his curls frantically as if it would stop the burning and hurting. "You did this to me, Hutch. You did this," he whimpered between labored and ragged breath.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Starsk. I had to. You know I had to." Holding Starsky against him, Hutch massaged his scalp trying to ease him away from the pain.
The two men sat on the floor, huddled together, until Starsky's breathing became normal, until he stopped sweating, and long after the sweating that got soaked onto Hutch's tee had dried up. The pool of melted ice-cream glistened in moonlight that streamed through the window. The liquidized dessert made patterns of white and brown on the floor with the chocolate chips scattered in it.
"Feeling better?" Hutch broke the silence.
"Yeah, headache's gone." Starsky snuggled in a little bit as if he was feeling cold.
Hutch circled his arms around him and rested his chin on Starsky's head. Starsky didn't object; he sighed and lay still.
Being allowed to hold Starsky filled Hutch's heart with hope and happiness. He didn't want to move an inch. He didn't want to move at all. But he kept twitching his nose because Starsky's dark stubborn curls tickled him. It was all dark around them now except for the moonlight. "So what did you remember?"
"You started with a botany lesson, and ended up buying ice-cream for me," Starsky chuckled.
He remembered it all right.
"We didn't do anything we weren't supposed to do. Did we, Hutch?" Starsky's question made Hutch smile again.
You are not going to get that answer from me, Starsk… no matter how much you try, you are not going to get me to say anything.
Hutch tilted his head and smiled, refusing to be baited. "Depends on what you define as what we were 'not supposed' to do, Starsk!"
Starsky sighed.
Hutch gently massaged his arms. He wanted run his hands all along Starsky's body. He longed to kiss Starsky, like the way Starsky had kissed him senseless during the days they were together. But Hutch had to control his feelings and action for a little bit longer. Starsky still didn't remember how he felt about Hutch, and Hutch wouldn't do anything to damage any little trust Starsky had of him. He'd never hurt Starsky. Never! When Starsky comes to him, it'd be on Starsky's terms; when he's ready, and only when Starsky had regained all of his memories.
"It feels weird- I don't... I don't know what I felt for you, but I must have liked you or somethin'- I mean..." Starsky scratched his head. "I mean… I was looking at 'flowers' and stuff. I know 'me' and I wouldn't have gone smellin' flowers if… if--"
"Must be love, Starsk," Hutch prompted.
"Oh, shut up, will ya?" Stretching his arm back, Starsky slapped the side of Hutch's head.
"Well, you're the one who just said that nothing would have made you go to a Botanical Garden if it wasn't for--"
"I didn't say it was because of love," Starsky snapped.
Hutch bit into his lower lip, trying to keep from laughing. This was fun! "Oh Yeah? Then what was it that you were going to say?"
"I wanted to say that-- that you must have meant something to me- something more than just a friend."
Hutch savored the moment and seized the promise of those words; he was getting his friend back. "You did more than what just a friend would have done for me, Starsk," he said softly.
"I stayed in LA for you. Didn't I?" Starsky asked.
"I guess."
"But then I left you by yourself and came back to Bay City," Starsky said sadly.
"Ah, Starsk. You didn't leave. Leo took you away from me; from us."
"I left you and came back to Bay City."
"How could you stay when you had no memories of me at all?" Hutch sighed. "I should have come with you to Bay City- that's what I should've done."
"I didn't even try to remember. I pushed you away."
"I'd have done the same if I didn't remember anything. Please, Starsk, don't blame yourself for anything that happened after Leo kidnapped you."
"I hate him," Starsky said in a low voice. "Was it you who shot him?"
Hutch hesitated for a while. Starsky wasn't interested in knowing the details about his rescue earlier. Now, when he wanted to know the details, Hutch wasn't sure what he should reveal. "I didn't want to kill him, Starsk," Hutch said, truthfully. He wanted to make Leo pay for all his sins. "We wanted to capture him alive, but he left us no choice- he charged towards us shooting… and-"
"Hey, I'm a cop too. You don't have to explain how it went down. I know this sound crass, but I'm glad you got him. I'm glad he's dead."
"Me too, Starsk. I wish- I wish I could kill him over and over again."
For another couple of minutes, Starsky remained silent in the warmth of Hutch's arms. The more he thought and experienced the lovingness of Hutch, he couldn't help but think that what he and Hutch felt for each other wasn't just a simple friendship. It had to be more than that. And he was sure that if they had truly shared a bed, it could not have been a result of some momentarily madness of physical desires, either. Hutch loved him. Starsky had no doubts about it. He would've to be a fool to not to see that. In return, Starsky felt some kind of a deep emotional connection that he couldn't put into words. He sensed completion with Hutch. He had never been close with a man before, like this. Yet, even if he had not recalled all the details of their past, buried deep within his heart he knew that the man that was holding him had claimed him like no one had ever done.
Was he in love with Hutch, before?
Was Hutch truly in love with Starsky? Hutch had only acted like a concerned and loving friend although he hinted of a possibility of them being lovers. Was he just messing with Starsky to get him to want to remember the past?
"Hutch... we've been sitting on the floor in the dark."
"Yep!"
"It's kind of … err… strange, don't you think?"
"Strange? No! I don't think it's strange at all," Hutch said, dramatically. "That's what lovers do, you know, sit in the dark- cuddled up together and gazing at the moon."
That did it! Starsky was up and on his feet in a flash. Just when he thought he had figured Hutch out!
Hutch laughed mercilessly.
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Chapter 14. Life of a Guardian
Shaye had been keeping an eye on the two guys from the time they got to the beach house. She never let them out of her sight.
Softie must be a funny guy because he can make Starsky laugh. He hasn't been this happy since he got back from Softie's place; when was that? A month ago? Whatever!
Softie does peculiar things- like leaning his forehead against Starsky's forehead. Holding him and talking so softly when Starsky's screaming the house down. I think he likes to touch Starsky. He pats Starsky on the hand... the shoulder... the head... even the tummy; yeah, that is funny. I've seen him leave his hand on Starsky's tummy, asking "Starsk, are you hungry?"
Hutch gets Starsky, and Starsky likes him. Oh, I know Starsky has been trying to distance himself from Softie. Something is bothering him, and I think Softie knows all about it. That's why he's with Starsky here in this strange house. I like this place. There's so much space to run when you step out of the house. Are they going to stay here forever? I wish they would.
Softie managed to get Starsky to go for a swim in the sea. It was so much fun. Boy, the waves were so strong, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get to the beach, but Starsky had me... Ahh, my Starsky! The best man in the whole world. And then there's Softie, too. Yeah, he's not bad either.
At night, Softie lies on the bed and watches until Starsky falls asleep. I don't think Softie really sleeps. A grumbling or a moan from Starsky, and Softie'd be on his feet. I swear I haven't seen anyone move that fast. No, I take that back. Starsky moves faster than Softie. Even I can't keep up with him, and I won the three mile 'chase sprint' twice in a row, before I came to live with Starsky.
Softie would come to our bed, I mean the bed Starsky and I share, and watch Starsky to make sure he's all right. No, I don't think Softie sleeps. I know because I can't sleep until both of them go to sleep. It just doesn't feel right for me to sleep when either one of them is awake. I'm glad they brought me with them on this trip. I hope they'd stay together after this. I mean, that's the sensible thing to do, right? Anyone can see that. Softie can stay here, close to Starsky. They are just perfect together. Someone has to tell them. I have already told Softie about it, but does he listen to me? Nah! Whenever I talk he asks, "What is it, Shaye?" and smiles. The guy thinks that all I'm asking for is a treat. Not that I'm complaining, but if I eat all the yummy stuff he's been giving me, I'd lose my shape, and a girl needs to look good, you know.
Maybe I have to try talking to Starsky. Haven't done that for a long time. He's just very hard to get to these days. Too silent and closed off. He doesn't listen to me like he used to do because he has a lot in his mind. He's very confused. I'm glad Softie is here because he seems to understand what's going on.
"Shaye, are you coming?"
That's Starsky. Okay, bed time! "Wuff."
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Chapter 15. The Hurricane
Starsky woke up with a burgeoning headache. Everything was a blur. His head hurt and his arms hurt. Why was everything spinning around him, or was it him whirling around everything else? He tried to focus on a spot to see where he was, but he felt drunk; did he drink anything? He didn't think so. Where was he? Why was he tied to the bed? Where's Hutch? Weren't they in the beach house? He heard the ocean, but it sounded a bit far away.
Then the door creaked open and two men came in. The guy in front was a blond. Starsky's heart skipped a beat. Oh, no! His hands were tied at his back, and there was tape around his mouth. Hutch? What the hell was going on? The man behind him pushed Hutch forward. The man behind Hutch was Leo. Leo?
Oh, God. Hutch! How did Leo get Hutch? No. No... No.
"Hutch, Hutch?" Starsky shouted, wriggling against the cuffs, trying to free himself. The ropes cut into his wrists rubbing viciously against the exposed raw skin.
Hutch was pushed against the wall in front of him; in front of his bed.
"What have you done, Leo? What the hell have you done? Why's Hutch here?" Starsky asked, trying his best to mask the fear that gripped his heart.
"You are not going to be free of him as long as he is alive," Leo growled.
"What are you talking about? Hutch didn't kidnap me."
"He kidnapped your heart, Dae, and I'm going to get it back."
"Leo … Leo," Starsky called our frantically. "What are you trying to do?
Leo's fist struck Hutch on his jaw. Hutch staggered back, groaning in pain through his gag.
"Stop," Starsky pleaded. "Leo, please. Stop. Don't harm him. Please. Don't."
"Why? Why should I stop? Give me one good reason, Dae."
"If you really love me then don't harm him."
"Ahh, Dae. Don't you understand, my love?" Leo came towards Starsky and sat on the bed. He cupped Starsky's face in his hands, and he brushed his lips against Starsky's lips. "I'm doing this because I love you."
Then he went back to Hutch and kicked him in the groin, making him fall onto the ground. He kept on kicking him over and over again. The next minute he was on top of Hutch, punching his cheeks and jaw.
Starsky jerked violently against the ropes. "Let him go. You have me, Leo. What else do you need? He has not done anything to you."
"He has fallen in love with you, Dae. That's plenty."
"No, Leo. We are just friends."
"Well, then, you shouldn't feel bad if anything happens to him. Right?
"Leo, you have me. I promise I'll never leave you if you let him go. You have my word."
Leaving Hutch on the ground, Leo came back to Starsky. He leaned towards Starsky, closing his fingers around his wrists. Leo's breathing was heavy and long. "You will give me your word? You will never leave me?" he mocked.
Starsky flinched away, struggling against Leo's pressing weight.
"How did you change so suddenly, Dae?" Leo's nostrils flared and his mouth formed a snarl. "Wasn't it just yesterday that you said you didn't love me, and that I had to let you go? And now… now you are telling me that you'd stay? You'd stay IF I LET HUTCHINSON live? You're willing to stay with me to spare his life?" he jeered.
"I would've done it for anyone, Leo. I don't want anyone dead because of me. He is just a friend. Why is it so hard for you believe that he's--"
"No-" Leo cut Starsky off angrily. "Not anymore. You can't have any friends in your life, Dae. I'm your friend… your lover. Your everything."
"Are you planning to kill all of my friends, Leo?"
"No," Leo hissed, turning towards the man on the floor. "Only this one. Everyone else was in your life before you met me, Dae, but him, you met, after me... and he became more than a friend. He cannot stay. I cannot allow him to live. He has to go."
"No," Starsky rasped, his voice strangled with immense pain. Tears rolled down his cheeks. This was Hutch. The soft spoken guy he befriended just a couple of days ago. The man who was haunted by nightmares of kids being murdered. The blond whom he felt a connection with from the very first day their eyes met. The one and only man he had loved. Loved.
"Leo, please." Starsky begged, something he had never done before. But today he would beg and do whatever necessary to save Hutch. "It's me you should punish, not him. I took him to the hotel. Remember? You saw all of it. Hutch didn't come to my hotel, Leo. I took him there."
"Do you think I don't know you, Dae?" Leo shook his head and laughed. "I know you better than anyone in this whole world. I know you better than your own mother, Dae. You only wanted to help him, but he wants more than just help from you. He's just another whore."
"No. God, Leo, stop this." Starsky's vision got fuzzier with the tears that were welling in his eyes. Hutch was going to suffer and Hutch was going to die all because of him. All because he met Hutch, liked Hutch, and fell in love with him.
He shouldn't have met him! He should've just left their friendly encounter at the court house and at the LAPD as it was. He should have walked away from Blue Orchid leaving Hutch with his drinks. He thought he was helping Hutch, but all what he did was bring death to him. He should never have fallen in love with him. Never!
Starsky had never felt this helpless before. Even when he was captured by Scaris and tortured by him, Starsky knew that he could beat him. He had not lost control. But today at the hands of a lunatic who claimed that he loved him above and beyond everything, Starsky was helpless and hopeless. His friend and his lover was going to die, and it was entirely his fault.
"He's going to suffer because he got close to you. This's what'd happen to anyone that gets close to you, Dae. There shouldn't be any one in your life anymore."
Starsky saw something gleaming in Leo's hand. A knife?
"Leo?" Starsky asked, his heart beating wildly and uncontrollably against his ribs. "What are you going to do?"
Leo pulled Hutch up and pushed him against the wall.
Starsky was hysterical by then. "Leo, No. No."
In a flash of a second Leo plunged the knife right into Hutch's heart. Unable to react or move, terrified beyond lucidity, Starsky watched the horrendous scene unfolding in front of him. The blood gushing out of Hutch's chest soaked his front and flowed to the ground. He couldn't see Hutch's face anymore.
"Hutch… Hutch. Oh God. What have I done? Hutch HUUUTCH," Starsky kept on screaming.
Leo wasn't done yet. He grabbed Hutch by his hair and pulled him straight exposing the delicate neck, making him face Starsky. Laughing like a maniac, in one quick movement, he slit Hutch's throat.
"NOOOOO," Starsky cried in pain. The pressure and anxiety tightened up his muscles and choked off his breathing. Shaking and trembling with sorrow and anger, he fell into a lifeless lump as he felt the last breath escaping from Hutch.
Hutch was murdered in front of his eyes. Hutch was murdered because of him; because they became friends. "I should have never met you, Hutch," he moaned, closing his eyes tightly. "I should have never loved you."
"That's right, Dae. You should never have talked to him. You should've stayed away from him, but you didn't, and now he's dead."
Watching the pool of blood that was getting larger and larger around Hutch's body, Starsky lost consciousness.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hutch woke up to Shaye's whining. He sat up straight and stretched towards Starsky to get a better look. Starsky wasn't moving or making any sound, but Shaye was sitting up. She made small whimpering sounds while watching Starsky. Hutch got up and went near her. "What is it girl? What's wrong?" he switched on the bedside lamp and saw sweat beads forming on Starsky's forehead.
"Starsk?" Hutch touched Starsky's cheek gently.
In another minute Starsky started twitching. His dark curls were already plastered to his forehead by sweat. He was mumbling and Hutch could only make out some of the words.
"Leo… Stop… No," Starsky said over and over again, trapped in his dream. "No. No, no," Starsky moaned, unable to wake up. It didn't take that long for him to start thrashing violently.
Hutch held Starsky's head away from the headboard to keep him from knocking himself out. He shook and yelled at Starsky, but none of it was effective in rescuing him from the throes of the horrible trance he was suffering in. This nightmare was here to stay, and it wasn't going to leave him until the deed was done.
Seconds turned into long minutes while the moaning and whimpering gradually turned into consistent wails and yells. Starsky's floundering limbs turned into frenzied and violent convulsions to the point where Hutch couldn't even keep his own head safe without risking an injury. He moved into the position that had proved to be the most effective in holding him down the other day. He straddled his chest and held down the convulsing body at his shoulders to slow down the twisting and turning.
In the past, Starsky would have calmed down by now and woken to the next torment of the gigantic headaches, but this time it was different. Starsky was dragged into a dark place where there was no return. Hutch's fears were realized when Starsky screamed his name the next minute.
"Hutch... HUUUUTCH!"
Oh, God. He's finally re-living it. He's watching 'me' getting murdered.
Starsky was bound by a dark hand that refused to release him. Hutch could see it squeezing the life out of him, breath by breath. This wasn't unexpected. From the very second Ray, the junkie had told him at Mitch's pub about how Leo approached him, offering him money to disguise himself and act like he was getting murdered by Leo, Hutch anticipated this moment of Starsky getting his memories back. Getting past this hurdle would end everything for good. But what if these memories damage Starsky's spirit even more?
The next minute, Starsky's whole body became tense and rigid. He started to tremble and jerk violently as if he were undergoing a seizure.
"What's going on Starsk? What's happening to you?" All what Hutch could do for the moment was hold onto him for dear life.
The twitching slowed down after some time, but Starsky still wouldn't open his eyes. Once the trembling ceased, Hutch tried to rouse him, but he didn't show any signs of coming around. Hutch eased himself away from Starsky as he took shuddering breaths. Gathering Starsky close to his heart, Hutch leaned against the headboard. "Come on, buddy. Wakeup. I'm here, I'm right here with you. I didn't die. It wasn't me, Starsk. Please wake up."
Starsky stirred in his sleep, and opened his eyes, but Hutch realized that Starsky was in some kind of a trance. He wasn't truly awake.
"I will do anything, Leo. Don't kill him, please," Starsky mumbled.
"Oh, God. Starsk," Hutch said in a strangled cry. "Look at me. I'm right here. I'm not dead, Starsk. I didn't die."
The next second Starsky was in a relapse. Hutch held Starsky's trembling body in his arms talking to him and assuring Starsky that he was alive and Leo didn't get him. Hutch was not prepared for this. He didn't know it was going to be this hard on Starsky, and he didn't know how to take care of the seizures. Dr. Wagner had not mentioned any of this during their conversation. Although he had Dr. Wagner's contact information with him, the beach house didn't have a phone and Hutch couldn't leave Starsky by himself to go find one. All he could do was handle it in his own way. The problem was that he had no clue what that way was.
Throughout that night, Starsky's waking up was followed by a bout of spasms. Hutch was terrified at not being able to stop Starsky drifting in and out of consciousness. Hutch could make out some of the words he was mumbling, though most of the time he was pleading with Leo or yelling at him.
Hutch didn't know how long he could keep a level head. Seeing how Leo had possessed Starsky's body and mind was killing him. The hours of frustration squashed his heart. The lump of tension that built up in his stomach travelled up his throat and gripped his lungs.
He thought his heart would break apart when Starsky mumbled, "I've never met Hutch."
"Dammit, Starsky." Hutch grit his teeth. "I'm right here. I'm right here with you, and you cannot say that we didn't meet. Don't you remember how you held me? You held me all night so that I could sleep? How could you have done that if we didn't meet? Don't you ever tell me that we didn't," he cried out, his own tears running down his cheeks.
"I should have never loved Hutch." Starsky whispered.
"You did. You loved me like no one had ever loved me," Hutch sobbed.
The hatred he felt towards Leo was not going to curb itself unless he could go and squeeze the life out of him again, and see the lights in those green eyes wither and die away. Yes, it was negative thinking, and this was no time to lose precious time. Yes, it was a sin to think of taking another human being's life in this manner; Leo was already dead, anyway. Leo was gone. Hutch had killed him. His intensions were not of killing Leo, but preventing his fellow cops from getting hurt. But now he wished he had a second chance to make Leo suffer for what he had done to Starsky.
"Leo, you bastard. You will never ever get to him. You hear me? You are dead, you bastard, you are dead. You will never get Starsky. Never."
He enveloped Starsky in his arms, feeling the grip of the powerful heinous nightmare loosening up. Starsky was no longer trembling, and his breathing had become steady and regular. He had gone limp, and the exhausted body surrendered to sleep. Hutch hoped it was sleep and not a coma. He held him tight, caressing his back, stroking his hair while whispering words of comfort.
"I love you Starsky."
With Starsky's warm body in his arms, Hutch, too gave in to the sleep that overcame him.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Starsky woke up feeling a warm breath on his cheeks. The events of the night hit him with impact, shattering his soul into pieces. Hutch died... Hutch died in front of his eyes. Then who was this man in bed with him?
He remembered the pool of blood that had collected where Hutch was standing and the big bold red patch on the wall where he was leaning. All of that from the blood oozed out of the wound Leo had inflicted upon Hutch with a knife that sunk into his heart and then across his neck. Starsky closed his eyes in pain.
The blinding headache he suffered was not from the repressed memories anymore, but because of the heavy burden he carried within himself. Leo had made sure Starsky saw Hutch's blood every time he opened his eyes. Leo hadn't stopped at that. He brought Hutch's blood soaked shirt and left it beside Starsky. "It will keep you company."
"Hutch, I'm sorry. Please forgive me... please," Starsky whispered.
The mumbling sounds he made awoke Hutch.
"Starsk?" Hutch asked turning towards the man who was mumbling to himself. He cupped Starsky's face between his hands. "Wake up, Starsk."
"I'm sorry," Starsky said, eyes still closed.
"I'm not dead. Open your eyes. Dammit, open your eyes!" Hutch demanded.
Starsky opened his eyes. A tear drop escaped, making its way onto the pillow. Starsky stared at man in front of him. "I'm so sorry, Hutch."
Hutch gently brushed Starsky's tears away.
Starsky swallowed hard and touched Hutch's cheek. "Why did you come here? Why are you here? I wish I could bring you back from the dead, Hutch. Please tell me what I should do?"
"Oh, God. Starsk, I'm not dead." Hutch held Starsky's hand at his cheek and pressed it hard. "Can't you feel me?"
"I saw you die. You were killed, Hutch. I saw you die right in front of me. That was real, I saw all the blood."
"It was a lie, Starsk. Here..." Hutch held his hands out, palms up. "Feel me. You can feel me, right? How can you feel me if I'm a ghost?"
Grasping Hutch's arms in his, Starsky searched the sad blue eyes gazing at him; the eyes that belonged to his friend who was dead now. What was going on? Why was he seeing Hutch's ghost?
Starsky recalled something he learnt or maybe he read during his military training. It was about dealing with victims and identifying symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. That must be what he was suffering from right now; nightmares, images, illusions- ghosts. But he wasn't just seeing Hutch's ghost, he was feeling him too. Was it possible to feel a ghost?
"Do you know where you are?" Hutch asked.
Starsky looked around and frowned. "The beach house," he answered.
"So then was it a ghost who brought you here?"
Starsky blinked. But you died. I saw you die.
Hutch gestured for Starsky to get out of the bed and follow him. He guided Starsky outside the beach house. It was still dark.
"Whose car is that?" Hutch pointed towards his Ford Sedan.
"Yours." Starsky's voice was barely audible.
"So, I... a ghost... drove my car from LA to BC, and then brought you here?"
"I don't know what to believe anymore, but I know what I saw." Starsky shivered to the cold sea breeze. "I saw you dying."
"Are you sure it was me?" Hutch asked, pulling Starsky into a hug, enfolding his arms around Starsky's waist. "Don't you feel warm now, Starsk?" He whispered against the dark curls. "Do you think a ghost can make you warm like this?" he asked, pressing his lips on Starsky's forehead.
"I saw you. I saw the knife sink into you. I saw the blood. God, there was so much," Starsky said softly, leaning into Hutch's embrace, trembling.
"If I'm a ghost, how come you aren't running away from me?" Hutch asked, guiding Starsky back inside the beach house. He switched on the lights, and sat on the couch with Starsky.
"I love you. Ghost or no ghost," said Starsky.
"And I love you, Starsk." Hutch took Starsky by the shoulder and leaned in to meet him at eye level. "Do you trust me to not hurt you? Ghost or no ghost?"
Starsky frowned, his eyes fixated on Hutch's face as Hutch tugged at his own t-shirt and pulled it off of him. He reached and took Starsky's hand, bringing it to his chest. He pressed Starsky's palm against his beating heart. "Can you feel my life, Starsk?"
Starsky's eyes filled with tears, again. Each breath he took was so painful. His jaw muscles tightened, keeping away the sobs that were threatening to break him down. He freed his hand from Hutch's hold and lowered his eyes towards Hutch's bare chest. It was spotless. Starsky placed his palm on the spot where Leo's knife sank in. He moved his fingers touching and tracing the bare chest that was devoid of scars. He shifted his hand towards Hutch's neck with the same butterfly touch. He couldn't see any lines or any scars. Starsky moved his arm to the base of Hutch's neck where he felt Hutch's pulse. He placed the other hand on the chest and felt his heartbeat. Same rhythm. It was real. He had a very much alive, breathing, healthy Hutch in his arms. "Hutch?" he whispered.
Hutch, who cried all along with Starsky for all the torment he went through, who couldn't suffer any distance between them anymore, pulled Starsky back into his arms. "I'm right here. I never went away, Starsk."
"Hutch, Hutch. Oh, God. Hutch," Starsky sobbed uncontrollably into Hutch's bare chest.
Hutch closed his eyes, allowing his tears to mingle with the dark curls that snuck beneath his chin. "It wasn't me, Starsk. Leo had looked for and found a guy that looked like me. He paid him good money for the act. Leo didn't kill anyone that day. The blood was fake. No one died. No one was killed. He made you believe that it was me. The drugs he had given you were very strong."
"It was so real." Starsky tightened his hold around Hutch's body. "I felt you leaving me. I-"
"No. Never. He had drugged you, Starsk. The combination of the Hallucinogens and sedatives he had used were so strong that even if he had brought a spotted cow into that room and told that it was me you would've believed it." Hutch kept on holding Starsky, rubbing soothing circles across his back as his sobs subsided and were replaced by steady but shaky breathing.
"Are you sure Leo's dead?"
Hutch drew away slightly, cupping Starsky's face in his hands. "Dead sure!"
"And you are real?" Starsky's voice faltered a bit, as if he was still afraid that everything in front of him was an illusion.
Hutch leaned towards Starsky slowly, claiming his mouth tenderly with his own. "Is that real enough for you?" He asked looking down into Starsky's glazed eyes. "I could never get enough of you. Can you remember that, Starsk? Can you remember us?"
"Yes. God, Yes." Starsky trembled as his skin sprang to life with a millions of sensations. His gaze caressed Hutch's face- his eyes sliding across the soft blue eyes along the bridge of Hutch's nose up to the slightly parted moist lips.
"I want us back," Hutch said, softly.
Hutch watched Starsky's eyes cloud with passion as his breathing quickened. He was never going to let this man out of his sight again if he could help it, Hutch made a promise to himself, before he pulled Starsky into a tight embrace and kissed him blind and deaf with all his pent-up frustrations and needs meshed together. He wanted to heal Starsky and rid him off all the pain, torture and torments he had gone through. Hutch wanted to heal himself and rid him off forever of the loneliness and hurt that consumed him.
Wanting it to be perfect for both of them, Hutch pulled Starsky up from the couch, kissing him all over his face, nuzzling at the hollow of his throat all the while making him walk back to the bedroom. Hutch pushed Starsky gently on to the bed, covering Starsky's body with his own, feeling it to be the natural extension of his own body; two halves of the same whole. So different, yet the same.
Starsky gasped with excitement as Hutch drew and removed the only remaining clothing item along his legs. Hutch trailed his fingers, his lips following the same path, along Starsky's legs up to his thighs as Starsky hissed with want and need. Hutch leaned back momentarily, marveling the raw sex, raw sensuality he had at his side. And this is all for me, he's all mine, Hutch trembled. He ghosted his lips over Starsky's hips, grazing his teeth, lightly, all the way through the tight dark curls, up and down and across his stomach, leaving Starsky squirming and begging for more.
Not being able to devoid himself of the pleasure of knowing how much and what he can do to Starsky, Hutch kissed him intimately, inhaling and breathing the musky scent of pure Starsky; tasting and savoring his lover.
"Huuutch," Starsky let out a strangled cry, his body shaking with a sheer force of desire. "Christ!" Clutching locks of Hutch's hair Starsky arched into Hutch's embrace. "I- Hutch- I - can't-" Starsky cried.
Hutch was intoxicated by his own strength and power of pleasing Starsky. His own arousal was too much to bare. Another one throaty moan from Starsky and Hutch's world would shatter into pieces. If Starsky touched him with the softest wisps of a brush, he'd be destroyed completely. He couldn't risk Starsky touching him, yet. Not anywhere.
But the very next second he found himself dragged upwards, body glued against the other body. Hutch groaned in agony as every inch of his skin was tortured by the ever changing textures of Starsky's length; course hair, silky tufts, smooth and soft skin. Hutch realized he was as naked as Starsky when his buttocks were cupped and drawn against Starsky. Whether it was Starsky who had removed his boxer shorts or whether he did it by himself, Hutch had no recollection, only grateful.
Hutch's heart slammed against his chest as Starsky forced Hutch to face him. The world seem to stop momentarily. And then Starsky's mouth crashed on his. It was just like their first kiss, all over again. Hutch slid his hands into Starsky's hair, curling them in to fists. He was panting and gasping into Starsky's mouth. He couldn't stand the pressure between his legs that was threatening to consume him.
Starsky ripped his mouth away from Hutch's and lavished Hutch's throat with little nips between kisses, moving downwards.
"God, S- Starsk, I won't… I won't last," Hutch rasped, realizing how much of a thin line is between pleasure and pain. His whole body was on fire and the steady throbbing at his lower belly was quickening and heightening. He pressed his hips against Starsky's chest, face, mouth, seeking and wanting friction. Whether it was hell or heaven, Hutch couldn't decide. Whether he wanted this to end or be forever, he wasn't sure.
Starsky's kisses had shifted from passionate to desperate, his hardness pressing down on Hutch's leg.
"My Hutch," Starsky breathed, just a moment before he plunged down, kissing and sliding between Hutch's legs, claiming his lover as no one had ever done before.
"Starsky…" Hutch cried out, as bolts of electricity slammed through his body. He threw his head back, feeling the touch of Starsky's lips and tongue right where he needed it. He arched his back off the bed, as he was drawn into Starsky's heat inch by inch. The air around him was saturated with Starsky. Hutch could simply take it no more, as he was spiraling out of control. He reached down and clutched Starsky by his shoulders. "Come to me," he urged, his body crashing against Starsky's in desperation.
Starsky didn't have to be told again. He moved against Hutch, all the way up, his hands sliding between Hutch's body and the mattress. Hutch wrapped his arms around Starsky's waist, grinding his hardness against Starsky's. He wanted to draw Starsky into him, inhale him, and feel him in his veins. He wanted to make Starsky whole; he wanted Starsky to make him whole.
Starsky plunged his tongue deep into Hutch's mouth as his demanding insatiable lips whipped all words away from him. Hutch framed Starsky's face in his hands, pulling away and looking into Starsky's eyes. Starsky's lips trembled with each move and every breath. His eyes were swimming and were as dark as midnight.
Hutch arched off the bed, aching to the point of pain where he could no longer hold himself together. Starsky cried out, Hutch's name spilling out of his lips in shock and triumph; his body shuddered all over as he sucked air into his lungs. Feeling Starsky's release sent shockwaves pulsating through Hutch's body. His eyes went blind, sending him over the edge and disconnecting his bones as he allowed himself to be shattered into a millions of pieces.
Starsky's movements slowed as he collapsed onto Hutch, his arms still snaked around Hutch's waist. Hutch could feel the feather-light kisses on the top of his shoulder as he lay in silence, trying to regain control of his thoughts and body.
"Hutch?" Starsky whispered into Hutch's hair, rolling over him and laying side by side with Hutch.
Instead of answering Hutch tightened his arms around Starsky. He wasn't ready to formulate any thoughts, yet. Hutch was a broken man to begin with, and then, Starsky had destroyed him completely, invaded him and touched him deep inside where nobody ever reached before. And somewhere between then and now, Starsky had re-assembled, healed, mended, and made Hutch whole. "Starsk," he said, the only thought he could think of, touching Starsky's face gently, and drifting off to a forever world.
***
Hutch woke up with a jolt as the bed vibrated with a sudden movement.
Shaye had jumped in between Starsky and Hutch and was bathing Starsky's face with her saliva. Starsky was getting nowhere with his lady dog. She had taken over him completely.
"Shit." Starsky hurriedly pulled the sheets over them.
Hutch laughed loudly. "Seriously, Starsk? You think she would mind seeing us naked?"
"We should've closed the door," Starsky muttered. "Why don't you go bother the other one on this bed, huh? Why me?" he asked Shaye, trying to keep her away from him.
Hutch laughed even more. "I can't believe you. Worrying over a little dog catching up with some R-rated scenes."
"I don't want to corrupt her," Starsky said in a low voice, as if he didn't want Shaye to hear what he was saying.
"Oh, My God! – You are really worried. Aren't you?"
"Shaye wouldn't come to us while we are at it- you know- she understands stuff like that."
"Oh, yeah? So she has never seen you naked, huh?"
"Of course she hasn't? What type of a question is that?" Starsky asked annoyingly. "She has class, you know. She never comes in to the bedroom after we- I mean Shaye and me, wake up in the morning, and until I'm… decent."
"Decent?" Hutch rolled his eyes. "Sure!"
Starsky glared at Hutch. "Why don't you ask her?"
The little dog wagged her tail and eyed them rather mischievously.
Hutch sighed. He didn't have to ask Shaye. One look at her and he knew Shaye saw right through him, just like her master. The damn little fur ball was actually laughing at him; Hutch was sure. He tucked the covers around him a bit more securely.
"You know, Starsk, you can always ask Shaye if you're still not sure whether I'm a ghost or not," Hutch said, patting Shaye on her head.
"Yeah?" Starsky turned his head and watched Hutch for a while. "Can you see him, Shaye?" He faced Shaye. "Can you see a blond turkey laying right here?" Starsky asked, pulling himself away from Hutch and tickling Shaye on her ears.
"Wuff," said Shaye, jumping all around.
***
A cleaning session was due with all that saliva that was slathered on Starsky by Shaye, Hutch made sure. "I'm not going to lick her spit off your face," he said, pushing Starsky into the bathroom.
Later, while snacking on a slice of chocolate cake and drinking hot chocolate, Starsky and Hutch discussed and 'filled-in-the blanks' of the time Starsky was held by Leo. Realizing they still had time to get some sleep before dawn, they settled back in Starsky's bed.
Shaye watched over the two friends hoping they'd fall into a relaxed, nightmare-free, satiated sleep, wrapped around each other. She sighed and settled in by herself trying to find space where she could sleep without getting kicked by the two men. She didn't like the fact that Hutch was in Starsky's bed. She hardly had any space left. Sure she wanted Hutch to come live with them- But to share their bed with Hutch was not something she expected. Is this how it's going to be? I mean, come on, Softie. You have your own bed, and Starsky's fine now. You better start sleeping in your own. But she knew it. She knew it in her doggy bones. Hutch was going to be a permanent figure in Starsky's bed.
Starsky lay awake on Hutch's shoulder, as Hutch had his arm curled around Starsky.
"Can't sleep, huh?" Hutch asked.
"I don't want to."
"You won't have any nightmares, Starsk. Everything's in the open now. You don't have to worry anymore."
"I am –" Starsky paused for a while. "I'm afraid this's all a dream and you'd be gone when I wake up," he said, trembling inwardly at the memory of Hutch being murdered.
"Ah, Starsk." Hutch pulled Starsky into a full embrace. "I'm right here, and I am very much alive. Nothing ever happened to me."
Starsky snuggled in closer, sighing and closing his eyes, savoring the warmth and comfort Hutch offered.
"Do you think Leo really killed any of Tyler's lovers? Did he ever say anything to you?" Hutch asked.
"He always said that he was not a killer. Said he wanted them dead, but couldn't kill. But then he made me think that he killed you. That I don't understand."
"He was delusional. He didn't think of the damage he was causing to his image by 'killing' me in front of you. He only wanted you to believe that I was dead, and that anyone who got close to you would die. He didn't think beyond that. If he really wanted to kill me, he could've done that at some point. I think he wasn't a killer, but we'll never really know."
Starsky sighed. No… they would never know the truth about Leo.
"We were planning to form a partnership. Weren't we?" asked Starsky.
"You remembered?"
"Yup. I'll talk to Dobey. He's always onto me for not stickin' with one partner for long."
"You better do that because I'm not going to leave you by yourself anymore."
"You sure you wanna come to BCPD?"
"I don't care where I go as long as you're there."
"How romantic-" Starsky sneered, remembering immediately how Hutch had taunted and confused him about their relationship. "You wanted to mess with my head- Didn't you? You, Turkey Buzzard. I didn't know what to think of us."
"Got you thinking, didn't I?" Hutch chuckled. "I had to get you thinking. Had to mess you up a little so that you'd want to know the truth." Hutch lay silent for a while, and began again. "And talking of the truth… who is McClemens?" he asked.
"Mac, who?" Starsky asked. He knew exactly who Hutch was talking about. It appeared that Damian and Hutch had compared notes of his past and present. There was no other man in this world who had ever touched Starsky like Hutch. There had been no other man Starsky wanted to possess or be possessed by, like he did Hutch. There simply hasn’t been anyone else for him. And Hutch should surely know that if Damian talked to him. Guess you want to hear it from me that there has been no one else for me, huh?
"You know who I am talking about," Hutch said angrily.
After a moment of silence, Starsky's mouth widened with a wicked grin. "Aaaahhh… Troy McClemens." Starsky chuckled softly. It was more of a slow giggle bubbling out of him that had initiated somewhere between his chest and throat. "Troy had the best ass in the whole division."
"What?" Hutch snapped. "What did you say? Best ass?"
"Uh huh!"
"Why, you- You-" Hutch turned towards Starsky in a flash. "I swear- I swear to God, Starsk, that if - If – If- there's ever been another man you have- mmpff-"
The rest went muffled as Starsky threw his body over and his mouth closed over Hutch's. He took Hutch by surprise, he could tell looking into Hutch's saucer like eyes. Hutch's possessive, but furious outburst made Starsky come to life back again, like a thousand of lights bulbs flicked on together.
Hutch's eyes closed in a ragged groan as Starsky's tongue swept Hutch's mouth, sinking his love and life into Hutch's soul. Hutch melted under him into a very much alive pool of warm fluid.
Starsky drew away from Hutch, his breathing as harsh and labored as Hutch's. He took a minute to calm down. "So what were you sayin'?" Starsky asked.
Hutch's brows were pulled together in confusion. "Huh?"
Starsky smiled, triumphantly. "'s what I thought," he said, brushing his lips gently against Hutch's. "My one and only," he said softly. "My first, and my last. There has never been anyone else in my life."
***
Sensing she had to leave the men to do their thing, Shaye jumped out of the bed, whining.
Things in the Starsky-Shaye household were never going to be the same again, she sighed. It was going to be a Starsky and Shaye, and Softie household from now onwards. And by the looks of it, she wasn't going to get any sleep if she slept with the two men. And a girl had to have her beauty sleep. She had to have some heart-to-heart to talk with Starsky and get him to leave her little bed outside the bedroom, once they get to his apartment. She'd never get any sleep with this type of nocturnal activity. Besides, there should be someone who was alert in this household of the surroundings when those two get lost like that. Men!
Shaye had her work cut out for her, alright. She had to guard a house and two men, from now onwards. No early retirements for her. Grumbling a bit, but feeling a sense of serenity, knowing that her Starsky was in good hands, Shaye jumped onto the sofa in the living room. She closed her eyes, remembering something Starsky had said, not just once, but twice. 'Turkeys'. Are they planning to have turkey for breakfast? Shaye fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of flying roasted turkeys. Yum!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Epilogue
"We have a new officer assigned to our precinct." Dobey walked in to the BCPD Metro squad room with a new recruit. "Meet Jeremy Fawkes."
Starsky and Hutch turned around to see a very young, tall, blond, Fawkes, who looked like a doll dressed in the smart blue police uniform.
Hutch couldn't help but notice the bright emerald eyes. He glanced at Starsky. A smile formed at the corners of Hutch's mouth at the sight of Starsky, who had turned very pale and become very tense.
"Detective Sergeant David Starsky," Dobey introduced Starsky to the young officer.
Officer Fawkes's smile widened as he reached for Starsky's hand. "David? That's beautiful name. Did you know it means 'beloved'? There're so many variations to that name?" he asked in a very soft and sweet voice.
"T'rrific. Another one of them," Starsky muttered, pulling out his hand from Fawkes's grip in a hurry. He picked up his leather jacket from the chair and was out of the squad room in no time.
Hutch couldn't suppress his laugh.
"I ... I just wanted to say that… with all his dark hair he could've been called Daegon." Officer Fawkes stared at the closed door. "Did I say something wrong?"
Hutch rolled his eyes and picked up his jacket. "Listen, Jeremy. If you ever want to see another day of your life, never mention the name Daffyd or Duh-Veed... or specially... especially… never ever say the name, Daegon. Got that?"
"But... but…," Fawkes stammered.
Hutch pointed his index finger and gave him the final warning. "Not another word!" He, too, was out of the squad room. Hutch had to find his irate partner before he launched his fury on some innocent bystander.
"I just wanted to say that maybe he would like to be called Dae," mumbled Jeremy Fawkes, thinking of making a good impression on Starsky the next day. After all... he had never seen eyes as blue as that, and he'd always had a thing for curly haired brunets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Must be love, Starsk," Hutch prompted.
"Oh, shut up, will ya?" Stretching his arm back, Starsky slapped the side of Hutch's head.
"Well, you're the one who just said that nothing would have made you go to a Botanical Garden if it wasn't for--"
"I didn't say it was because of love," Starsky snapped.
Hutch bit into his lower lip, trying to keep from laughing. This was fun! "Oh Yeah? Then what was it that you were going to say?"
"I wanted to say that-- that you must have meant something to me- something more than just a friend."
Hutch savored the moment and seized the promise of those words; he was getting his friend back. "You did more than what just a friend would have done for me, Starsk," he said softly.
"I stayed in LA for you. Didn't I?" Starsky asked.
"I guess."
"But then I left you by yourself and came back to Bay City," Starsky said sadly.
"Ah, Starsk. You didn't leave. Leo took you away from me; from us."
"I left you and came back to Bay City."
"How could you stay when you had no memories of me at all?" Hutch sighed. "I should have come with you to Bay City- that's what I should've done."
"I didn't even try to remember. I pushed you away."
"I'd have done the same if I didn't remember anything. Please, Starsk, don't blame yourself for anything that happened after Leo kidnapped you."
"I hate him," Starsky said in a low voice. "Was it you who shot him?"
Hutch hesitated for a while. Starsky wasn't interested in knowing the details about his rescue earlier. Now, when he wanted to know the details, Hutch wasn't sure what he should reveal. "I didn't want to kill him, Starsk," Hutch said, truthfully. He wanted to make Leo pay for all his sins. "We wanted to capture him alive, but he left us no choice- he charged towards us shooting… and-"
"Hey, I'm a cop too. You don't have to explain how it went down. I know this sound crass, but I'm glad you got him. I'm glad he's dead."
"Me too, Starsk. I wish- I wish I could kill him over and over again."
For another couple of minutes, Starsky remained silent in the warmth of Hutch's arms. The more he thought and experienced the lovingness of Hutch, he couldn't help but think that what he and Hutch felt for each other wasn't just a simple friendship. It had to be more than that. And he was sure that if they had truly shared a bed, it could not have been a result of some momentarily madness of physical desires, either. Hutch loved him. Starsky had no doubts about it. He would've to be a fool to not to see that. In return, Starsky felt some kind of a deep emotional connection that he couldn't put into words. He sensed completion with Hutch. He had never been close with a man before, like this. Yet, even if he had not recalled all the details of their past, buried deep within his heart he knew that the man that was holding him had claimed him like no one had ever done.
Was he in love with Hutch, before?
Was Hutch truly in love with Starsky? Hutch had only acted like a concerned and loving friend although he hinted of a possibility of them being lovers. Was he just messing with Starsky to get him to want to remember the past?
"Hutch... we've been sitting on the floor in the dark."
"Yep!"
"It's kind of … err… strange, don't you think?"
"Strange? No! I don't think it's strange at all," Hutch said, dramatically. "That's what lovers do, you know, sit in the dark- cuddled up together and gazing at the moon."
That did it! Starsky was up and on his feet in a flash. Just when he thought he had figured Hutch out!
Hutch laughed mercilessly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 14. Life of a Guardian
Shaye had been keeping an eye on the two guys from the time they got to the beach house. She never let them out of her sight.
Softie must be a funny guy because he can make Starsky laugh. He hasn't been this happy since he got back from Softie's place; when was that? A month ago? Whatever!
Softie does peculiar things- like leaning his forehead against Starsky's forehead. Holding him and talking so softly when Starsky's screaming the house down. I think he likes to touch Starsky. He pats Starsky on the hand... the shoulder... the head... even the tummy; yeah, that is funny. I've seen him leave his hand on Starsky's tummy, asking "Starsk, are you hungry?"
Hutch gets Starsky, and Starsky likes him. Oh, I know Starsky has been trying to distance himself from Softie. Something is bothering him, and I think Softie knows all about it. That's why he's with Starsky here in this strange house. I like this place. There's so much space to run when you step out of the house. Are they going to stay here forever? I wish they would.
Softie managed to get Starsky to go for a swim in the sea. It was so much fun. Boy, the waves were so strong, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get to the beach, but Starsky had me... Ahh, my Starsky! The best man in the whole world. And then there's Softie, too. Yeah, he's not bad either.
At night, Softie lies on the bed and watches until Starsky falls asleep. I don't think Softie really sleeps. A grumbling or a moan from Starsky, and Softie'd be on his feet. I swear I haven't seen anyone move that fast. No, I take that back. Starsky moves faster than Softie. Even I can't keep up with him, and I won the three mile 'chase sprint' twice in a row, before I came to live with Starsky.
Softie would come to our bed, I mean the bed Starsky and I share, and watch Starsky to make sure he's all right. No, I don't think Softie sleeps. I know because I can't sleep until both of them go to sleep. It just doesn't feel right for me to sleep when either one of them is awake. I'm glad they brought me with them on this trip. I hope they'd stay together after this. I mean, that's the sensible thing to do, right? Anyone can see that. Softie can stay here, close to Starsky. They are just perfect together. Someone has to tell them. I have already told Softie about it, but does he listen to me? Nah! Whenever I talk he asks, "What is it, Shaye?" and smiles. The guy thinks that all I'm asking for is a treat. Not that I'm complaining, but if I eat all the yummy stuff he's been giving me, I'd lose my shape, and a girl needs to look good, you know.
Maybe I have to try talking to Starsky. Haven't done that for a long time. He's just very hard to get to these days. Too silent and closed off. He doesn't listen to me like he used to do because he has a lot in his mind. He's very confused. I'm glad Softie is here because he seems to understand what's going on.
"Shaye, are you coming?"
That's Starsky. Okay, bed time! "Wuff."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 15. The Hurricane
Starsky woke up with a burgeoning headache. Everything was a blur. His head hurt and his arms hurt. Why was everything spinning around him, or was it him whirling around everything else? He tried to focus on a spot to see where he was, but he felt drunk; did he drink anything? He didn't think so. Where was he? Why was he tied to the bed? Where's Hutch? Weren't they in the beach house? He heard the ocean, but it sounded a bit far away.
Then the door creaked open and two men came in. The guy in front was a blond. Starsky's heart skipped a beat. Oh, no! His hands were tied at his back, and there was tape around his mouth. Hutch? What the hell was going on? The man behind him pushed Hutch forward. The man behind Hutch was Leo. Leo?
Oh, God. Hutch! How did Leo get Hutch? No. No... No.
"Hutch, Hutch?" Starsky shouted, wriggling against the cuffs, trying to free himself. The ropes cut into his wrists rubbing viciously against the exposed raw skin.
Hutch was pushed against the wall in front of him; in front of his bed.
"What have you done, Leo? What the hell have you done? Why's Hutch here?" Starsky asked, trying his best to mask the fear that gripped his heart.
"You are not going to be free of him as long as he is alive," Leo growled.
"What are you talking about? Hutch didn't kidnap me."
"He kidnapped your heart, Dae, and I'm going to get it back."
"Leo … Leo," Starsky called our frantically. "What are you trying to do?
Leo's fist struck Hutch on his jaw. Hutch staggered back, groaning in pain through his gag.
"Stop," Starsky pleaded. "Leo, please. Stop. Don't harm him. Please. Don't."
"Why? Why should I stop? Give me one good reason, Dae."
"If you really love me then don't harm him."
"Ahh, Dae. Don't you understand, my love?" Leo came towards Starsky and sat on the bed. He cupped Starsky's face in his hands, and he brushed his lips against Starsky's lips. "I'm doing this because I love you."
Then he went back to Hutch and kicked him in the groin, making him fall onto the ground. He kept on kicking him over and over again. The next minute he was on top of Hutch, punching his cheeks and jaw.
Starsky jerked violently against the ropes. "Let him go. You have me, Leo. What else do you need? He has not done anything to you."
"He has fallen in love with you, Dae. That's plenty."
"No, Leo. We are just friends."
"Well, then, you shouldn't feel bad if anything happens to him. Right?
"Leo, you have me. I promise I'll never leave you if you let him go. You have my word."
Leaving Hutch on the ground, Leo came back to Starsky. He leaned towards Starsky, closing his fingers around his wrists. Leo's breathing was heavy and long. "You will give me your word? You will never leave me?" he mocked.
Starsky flinched away, struggling against Leo's pressing weight.
"How did you change so suddenly, Dae?" Leo's nostrils flared and his mouth formed a snarl. "Wasn't it just yesterday that you said you didn't love me, and that I had to let you go? And now… now you are telling me that you'd stay? You'd stay IF I LET HUTCHINSON live? You're willing to stay with me to spare his life?" he jeered.
"I would've done it for anyone, Leo. I don't want anyone dead because of me. He is just a friend. Why is it so hard for you believe that he's--"
"No-" Leo cut Starsky off angrily. "Not anymore. You can't have any friends in your life, Dae. I'm your friend… your lover. Your everything."
"Are you planning to kill all of my friends, Leo?"
"No," Leo hissed, turning towards the man on the floor. "Only this one. Everyone else was in your life before you met me, Dae, but him, you met, after me... and he became more than a friend. He cannot stay. I cannot allow him to live. He has to go."
"No," Starsky rasped, his voice strangled with immense pain. Tears rolled down his cheeks. This was Hutch. The soft spoken guy he befriended just a couple of days ago. The man who was haunted by nightmares of kids being murdered. The blond whom he felt a connection with from the very first day their eyes met. The one and only man he had loved. Loved.
"Leo, please." Starsky begged, something he had never done before. But today he would beg and do whatever necessary to save Hutch. "It's me you should punish, not him. I took him to the hotel. Remember? You saw all of it. Hutch didn't come to my hotel, Leo. I took him there."
"Do you think I don't know you, Dae?" Leo shook his head and laughed. "I know you better than anyone in this whole world. I know you better than your own mother, Dae. You only wanted to help him, but he wants more than just help from you. He's just another whore."
"No. God, Leo, stop this." Starsky's vision got fuzzier with the tears that were welling in his eyes. Hutch was going to suffer and Hutch was going to die all because of him. All because he met Hutch, liked Hutch, and fell in love with him.
He shouldn't have met him! He should've just left their friendly encounter at the court house and at the LAPD as it was. He should have walked away from Blue Orchid leaving Hutch with his drinks. He thought he was helping Hutch, but all what he did was bring death to him. He should never have fallen in love with him. Never!
Starsky had never felt this helpless before. Even when he was captured by Scaris and tortured by him, Starsky knew that he could beat him. He had not lost control. But today at the hands of a lunatic who claimed that he loved him above and beyond everything, Starsky was helpless and hopeless. His friend and his lover was going to die, and it was entirely his fault.
"He's going to suffer because he got close to you. This's what'd happen to anyone that gets close to you, Dae. There shouldn't be any one in your life anymore."
Starsky saw something gleaming in Leo's hand. A knife?
"Leo?" Starsky asked, his heart beating wildly and uncontrollably against his ribs. "What are you going to do?"
Leo pulled Hutch up and pushed him against the wall.
Starsky was hysterical by then. "Leo, No. No."
In a flash of a second Leo plunged the knife right into Hutch's heart. Unable to react or move, terrified beyond lucidity, Starsky watched the horrendous scene unfolding in front of him. The blood gushing out of Hutch's chest soaked his front and flowed to the ground. He couldn't see Hutch's face anymore.
"Hutch… Hutch. Oh God. What have I done? Hutch HUUUTCH," Starsky kept on screaming.
Leo wasn't done yet. He grabbed Hutch by his hair and pulled him straight exposing the delicate neck, making him face Starsky. Laughing like a maniac, in one quick movement, he slit Hutch's throat.
"NOOOOO," Starsky cried in pain. The pressure and anxiety tightened up his muscles and choked off his breathing. Shaking and trembling with sorrow and anger, he fell into a lifeless lump as he felt the last breath escaping from Hutch.
Hutch was murdered in front of his eyes. Hutch was murdered because of him; because they became friends. "I should have never met you, Hutch," he moaned, closing his eyes tightly. "I should have never loved you."
"That's right, Dae. You should never have talked to him. You should've stayed away from him, but you didn't, and now he's dead."
Watching the pool of blood that was getting larger and larger around Hutch's body, Starsky lost consciousness.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hutch woke up to Shaye's whining. He sat up straight and stretched towards Starsky to get a better look. Starsky wasn't moving or making any sound, but Shaye was sitting up. She made small whimpering sounds while watching Starsky. Hutch got up and went near her. "What is it girl? What's wrong?" he switched on the bedside lamp and saw sweat beads forming on Starsky's forehead.
"Starsk?" Hutch touched Starsky's cheek gently.
In another minute Starsky started twitching. His dark curls were already plastered to his forehead by sweat. He was mumbling and Hutch could only make out some of the words.
"Leo… Stop… No," Starsky said over and over again, trapped in his dream. "No. No, no," Starsky moaned, unable to wake up. It didn't take that long for him to start thrashing violently.
Hutch held Starsky's head away from the headboard to keep him from knocking himself out. He shook and yelled at Starsky, but none of it was effective in rescuing him from the throes of the horrible trance he was suffering in. This nightmare was here to stay, and it wasn't going to leave him until the deed was done.
Seconds turned into long minutes while the moaning and whimpering gradually turned into consistent wails and yells. Starsky's floundering limbs turned into frenzied and violent convulsions to the point where Hutch couldn't even keep his own head safe without risking an injury. He moved into the position that had proved to be the most effective in holding him down the other day. He straddled his chest and held down the convulsing body at his shoulders to slow down the twisting and turning.
In the past, Starsky would have calmed down by now and woken to the next torment of the gigantic headaches, but this time it was different. Starsky was dragged into a dark place where there was no return. Hutch's fears were realized when Starsky screamed his name the next minute.
"Hutch... HUUUUTCH!"
Oh, God. He's finally re-living it. He's watching 'me' getting murdered.
Starsky was bound by a dark hand that refused to release him. Hutch could see it squeezing the life out of him, breath by breath. This wasn't unexpected. From the very second Ray, the junkie had told him at Mitch's pub about how Leo approached him, offering him money to disguise himself and act like he was getting murdered by Leo, Hutch anticipated this moment of Starsky getting his memories back. Getting past this hurdle would end everything for good. But what if these memories damage Starsky's spirit even more?
The next minute, Starsky's whole body became tense and rigid. He started to tremble and jerk violently as if he were undergoing a seizure.
"What's going on Starsk? What's happening to you?" All what Hutch could do for the moment was hold onto him for dear life.
The twitching slowed down after some time, but Starsky still wouldn't open his eyes. Once the trembling ceased, Hutch tried to rouse him, but he didn't show any signs of coming around. Hutch eased himself away from Starsky as he took shuddering breaths. Gathering Starsky close to his heart, Hutch leaned against the headboard. "Come on, buddy. Wakeup. I'm here, I'm right here with you. I didn't die. It wasn't me, Starsk. Please wake up."
Starsky stirred in his sleep, and opened his eyes, but Hutch realized that Starsky was in some kind of a trance. He wasn't truly awake.
"I will do anything, Leo. Don't kill him, please," Starsky mumbled.
"Oh, God. Starsk," Hutch said in a strangled cry. "Look at me. I'm right here. I'm not dead, Starsk. I didn't die."
The next second Starsky was in a relapse. Hutch held Starsky's trembling body in his arms talking to him and assuring Starsky that he was alive and Leo didn't get him. Hutch was not prepared for this. He didn't know it was going to be this hard on Starsky, and he didn't know how to take care of the seizures. Dr. Wagner had not mentioned any of this during their conversation. Although he had Dr. Wagner's contact information with him, the beach house didn't have a phone and Hutch couldn't leave Starsky by himself to go find one. All he could do was handle it in his own way. The problem was that he had no clue what that way was.
Throughout that night, Starsky's waking up was followed by a bout of spasms. Hutch was terrified at not being able to stop Starsky drifting in and out of consciousness. Hutch could make out some of the words he was mumbling, though most of the time he was pleading with Leo or yelling at him.
Hutch didn't know how long he could keep a level head. Seeing how Leo had possessed Starsky's body and mind was killing him. The hours of frustration squashed his heart. The lump of tension that built up in his stomach travelled up his throat and gripped his lungs.
He thought his heart would break apart when Starsky mumbled, "I've never met Hutch."
"Dammit, Starsky." Hutch grit his teeth. "I'm right here. I'm right here with you, and you cannot say that we didn't meet. Don't you remember how you held me? You held me all night so that I could sleep? How could you have done that if we didn't meet? Don't you ever tell me that we didn't," he cried out, his own tears running down his cheeks.
"I should have never loved Hutch." Starsky whispered.
"You did. You loved me like no one had ever loved me," Hutch sobbed.
The hatred he felt towards Leo was not going to curb itself unless he could go and squeeze the life out of him again, and see the lights in those green eyes wither and die away. Yes, it was negative thinking, and this was no time to lose precious time. Yes, it was a sin to think of taking another human being's life in this manner; Leo was already dead, anyway. Leo was gone. Hutch had killed him. His intensions were not of killing Leo, but preventing his fellow cops from getting hurt. But now he wished he had a second chance to make Leo suffer for what he had done to Starsky.
"Leo, you bastard. You will never ever get to him. You hear me? You are dead, you bastard, you are dead. You will never get Starsky. Never."
He enveloped Starsky in his arms, feeling the grip of the powerful heinous nightmare loosening up. Starsky was no longer trembling, and his breathing had become steady and regular. He had gone limp, and the exhausted body surrendered to sleep. Hutch hoped it was sleep and not a coma. He held him tight, caressing his back, stroking his hair while whispering words of comfort.
"I love you Starsky."
With Starsky's warm body in his arms, Hutch, too gave in to the sleep that overcame him.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Starsky woke up feeling a warm breath on his cheeks. The events of the night hit him with impact, shattering his soul into pieces. Hutch died... Hutch died in front of his eyes. Then who was this man in bed with him?
He remembered the pool of blood that had collected where Hutch was standing and the big bold red patch on the wall where he was leaning. All of that from the blood oozed out of the wound Leo had inflicted upon Hutch with a knife that sunk into his heart and then across his neck. Starsky closed his eyes in pain.
The blinding headache he suffered was not from the repressed memories anymore, but because of the heavy burden he carried within himself. Leo had made sure Starsky saw Hutch's blood every time he opened his eyes. Leo hadn't stopped at that. He brought Hutch's blood soaked shirt and left it beside Starsky. "It will keep you company."
"Hutch, I'm sorry. Please forgive me... please," Starsky whispered.
The mumbling sounds he made awoke Hutch.
"Starsk?" Hutch asked turning towards the man who was mumbling to himself. He cupped Starsky's face between his hands. "Wake up, Starsk."
"I'm sorry," Starsky said, eyes still closed.
"I'm not dead. Open your eyes. Dammit, open your eyes!" Hutch demanded.
Starsky opened his eyes. A tear drop escaped, making its way onto the pillow. Starsky stared at man in front of him. "I'm so sorry, Hutch."
Hutch gently brushed Starsky's tears away.
Starsky swallowed hard and touched Hutch's cheek. "Why did you come here? Why are you here? I wish I could bring you back from the dead, Hutch. Please tell me what I should do?"
"Oh, God. Starsk, I'm not dead." Hutch held Starsky's hand at his cheek and pressed it hard. "Can't you feel me?"
"I saw you die. You were killed, Hutch. I saw you die right in front of me. That was real, I saw all the blood."
"It was a lie, Starsk. Here..." Hutch held his hands out, palms up. "Feel me. You can feel me, right? How can you feel me if I'm a ghost?"
Grasping Hutch's arms in his, Starsky searched the sad blue eyes gazing at him; the eyes that belonged to his friend who was dead now. What was going on? Why was he seeing Hutch's ghost?
Starsky recalled something he learnt or maybe he read during his military training. It was about dealing with victims and identifying symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. That must be what he was suffering from right now; nightmares, images, illusions- ghosts. But he wasn't just seeing Hutch's ghost, he was feeling him too. Was it possible to feel a ghost?
"Do you know where you are?" Hutch asked.
Starsky looked around and frowned. "The beach house," he answered.
"So then was it a ghost who brought you here?"
Starsky blinked. But you died. I saw you die.
Hutch gestured for Starsky to get out of the bed and follow him. He guided Starsky outside the beach house. It was still dark.
"Whose car is that?" Hutch pointed towards his Ford Sedan.
"Yours." Starsky's voice was barely audible.
"So, I... a ghost... drove my car from LA to BC, and then brought you here?"
"I don't know what to believe anymore, but I know what I saw." Starsky shivered to the cold sea breeze. "I saw you dying."
"Are you sure it was me?" Hutch asked, pulling Starsky into a hug, enfolding his arms around Starsky's waist. "Don't you feel warm now, Starsk?" He whispered against the dark curls. "Do you think a ghost can make you warm like this?" he asked, pressing his lips on Starsky's forehead.
"I saw you. I saw the knife sink into you. I saw the blood. God, there was so much," Starsky said softly, leaning into Hutch's embrace, trembling.
"If I'm a ghost, how come you aren't running away from me?" Hutch asked, guiding Starsky back inside the beach house. He switched on the lights, and sat on the couch with Starsky.
"I love you. Ghost or no ghost," said Starsky.
"And I love you, Starsk." Hutch took Starsky by the shoulder and leaned in to meet him at eye level. "Do you trust me to not hurt you? Ghost or no ghost?"
Starsky frowned, his eyes fixated on Hutch's face as Hutch tugged at his own t-shirt and pulled it off of him. He reached and took Starsky's hand, bringing it to his chest. He pressed Starsky's palm against his beating heart. "Can you feel my life, Starsk?"
Starsky's eyes filled with tears, again. Each breath he took was so painful. His jaw muscles tightened, keeping away the sobs that were threatening to break him down. He freed his hand from Hutch's hold and lowered his eyes towards Hutch's bare chest. It was spotless. Starsky placed his palm on the spot where Leo's knife sank in. He moved his fingers touching and tracing the bare chest that was devoid of scars. He shifted his hand towards Hutch's neck with the same butterfly touch. He couldn't see any lines or any scars. Starsky moved his arm to the base of Hutch's neck where he felt Hutch's pulse. He placed the other hand on the chest and felt his heartbeat. Same rhythm. It was real. He had a very much alive, breathing, healthy Hutch in his arms. "Hutch?" he whispered.
Hutch, who cried all along with Starsky for all the torment he went through, who couldn't suffer any distance between them anymore, pulled Starsky back into his arms. "I'm right here. I never went away, Starsk."
"Hutch, Hutch. Oh, God. Hutch," Starsky sobbed uncontrollably into Hutch's bare chest.
Hutch closed his eyes, allowing his tears to mingle with the dark curls that snuck beneath his chin. "It wasn't me, Starsk. Leo had looked for and found a guy that looked like me. He paid him good money for the act. Leo didn't kill anyone that day. The blood was fake. No one died. No one was killed. He made you believe that it was me. The drugs he had given you were very strong."
"It was so real." Starsky tightened his hold around Hutch's body. "I felt you leaving me. I-"
"No. Never. He had drugged you, Starsk. The combination of the Hallucinogens and sedatives he had used were so strong that even if he had brought a spotted cow into that room and told that it was me you would've believed it." Hutch kept on holding Starsky, rubbing soothing circles across his back as his sobs subsided and were replaced by steady but shaky breathing.
"Are you sure Leo's dead?"
Hutch drew away slightly, cupping Starsky's face in his hands. "Dead sure!"
"And you are real?" Starsky's voice faltered a bit, as if he was still afraid that everything in front of him was an illusion.
Hutch leaned towards Starsky slowly, claiming his mouth tenderly with his own. "Is that real enough for you?" He asked looking down into Starsky's glazed eyes. "I could never get enough of you. Can you remember that, Starsk? Can you remember us?"
"Yes. God, Yes." Starsky trembled as his skin sprang to life with a millions of sensations. His gaze caressed Hutch's face- his eyes sliding across the soft blue eyes along the bridge of Hutch's nose up to the slightly parted moist lips.
"I want us back," Hutch said, softly.
Hutch watched Starsky's eyes cloud with passion as his breathing quickened. He was never going to let this man out of his sight again if he could help it, Hutch made a promise to himself, before he pulled Starsky into a tight embrace and kissed him blind and deaf with all his pent-up frustrations and needs meshed together. He wanted to heal Starsky and rid him off all the pain, torture and torments he had gone through. Hutch wanted to heal himself and rid him off forever of the loneliness and hurt that consumed him.
Wanting it to be perfect for both of them, Hutch pulled Starsky up from the couch, kissing him all over his face, nuzzling at the hollow of his throat all the while making him walk back to the bedroom. Hutch pushed Starsky gently on to the bed, covering Starsky's body with his own, feeling it to be the natural extension of his own body; two halves of the same whole. So different, yet the same.
Starsky gasped with excitement as Hutch drew and removed the only remaining clothing item along his legs. Hutch trailed his fingers, his lips following the same path, along Starsky's legs up to his thighs as Starsky hissed with want and need. Hutch leaned back momentarily, marveling the raw sex, raw sensuality he had at his side. And this is all for me, he's all mine, Hutch trembled. He ghosted his lips over Starsky's hips, grazing his teeth, lightly, all the way through the tight dark curls, up and down and across his stomach, leaving Starsky squirming and begging for more.
Not being able to devoid himself of the pleasure of knowing how much and what he can do to Starsky, Hutch kissed him intimately, inhaling and breathing the musky scent of pure Starsky; tasting and savoring his lover.
"Huuutch," Starsky let out a strangled cry, his body shaking with a sheer force of desire. "Christ!" Clutching locks of Hutch's hair Starsky arched into Hutch's embrace. "I- Hutch- I - can't-" Starsky cried.
Hutch was intoxicated by his own strength and power of pleasing Starsky. His own arousal was too much to bare. Another one throaty moan from Starsky and Hutch's world would shatter into pieces. If Starsky touched him with the softest wisps of a brush, he'd be destroyed completely. He couldn't risk Starsky touching him, yet. Not anywhere.
But the very next second he found himself dragged upwards, body glued against the other body. Hutch groaned in agony as every inch of his skin was tortured by the ever changing textures of Starsky's length; course hair, silky tufts, smooth and soft skin. Hutch realized he was as naked as Starsky when his buttocks were cupped and drawn against Starsky. Whether it was Starsky who had removed his boxer shorts or whether he did it by himself, Hutch had no recollection, only grateful.
Hutch's heart slammed against his chest as Starsky forced Hutch to face him. The world seem to stop momentarily. And then Starsky's mouth crashed on his. It was just like their first kiss, all over again. Hutch slid his hands into Starsky's hair, curling them in to fists. He was panting and gasping into Starsky's mouth. He couldn't stand the pressure between his legs that was threatening to consume him.
Starsky ripped his mouth away from Hutch's and lavished Hutch's throat with little nips between kisses, moving downwards.
"God, S- Starsk, I won't… I won't last," Hutch rasped, realizing how much of a thin line is between pleasure and pain. His whole body was on fire and the steady throbbing at his lower belly was quickening and heightening. He pressed his hips against Starsky's chest, face, mouth, seeking and wanting friction. Whether it was hell or heaven, Hutch couldn't decide. Whether he wanted this to end or be forever, he wasn't sure.
Starsky's kisses had shifted from passionate to desperate, his hardness pressing down on Hutch's leg.
"My Hutch," Starsky breathed, just a moment before he plunged down, kissing and sliding between Hutch's legs, claiming his lover as no one had ever done before.
"Starsky…" Hutch cried out, as bolts of electricity slammed through his body. He threw his head back, feeling the touch of Starsky's lips and tongue right where he needed it. He arched his back off the bed, as he was drawn into Starsky's heat inch by inch. The air around him was saturated with Starsky. Hutch could simply take it no more, as he was spiraling out of control. He reached down and clutched Starsky by his shoulders. "Come to me," he urged, his body crashing against Starsky's in desperation.
Starsky didn't have to be told again. He moved against Hutch, all the way up, his hands sliding between Hutch's body and the mattress. Hutch wrapped his arms around Starsky's waist, grinding his hardness against Starsky's. He wanted to draw Starsky into him, inhale him, and feel him in his veins. He wanted to make Starsky whole; he wanted Starsky to make him whole.
Starsky plunged his tongue deep into Hutch's mouth as his demanding insatiable lips whipped all words away from him. Hutch framed Starsky's face in his hands, pulling away and looking into Starsky's eyes. Starsky's lips trembled with each move and every breath. His eyes were swimming and were as dark as midnight.
Hutch arched off the bed, aching to the point of pain where he could no longer hold himself together. Starsky cried out, Hutch's name spilling out of his lips in shock and triumph; his body shuddered all over as he sucked air into his lungs. Feeling Starsky's release sent shockwaves pulsating through Hutch's body. His eyes went blind, sending him over the edge and disconnecting his bones as he allowed himself to be shattered into a millions of pieces.
Starsky's movements slowed as he collapsed onto Hutch, his arms still snaked around Hutch's waist. Hutch could feel the feather-light kisses on the top of his shoulder as he lay in silence, trying to regain control of his thoughts and body.
"Hutch?" Starsky whispered into Hutch's hair, rolling over him and laying side by side with Hutch.
Instead of answering Hutch tightened his arms around Starsky. He wasn't ready to formulate any thoughts, yet. Hutch was a broken man to begin with, and then, Starsky had destroyed him completely, invaded him and touched him deep inside where nobody ever reached before. And somewhere between then and now, Starsky had re-assembled, healed, mended, and made Hutch whole. "Starsk," he said, the only thought he could think of, touching Starsky's face gently, and drifting off to a forever world.
***
Hutch woke up with a jolt as the bed vibrated with a sudden movement.
Shaye had jumped in between Starsky and Hutch and was bathing Starsky's face with her saliva. Starsky was getting nowhere with his lady dog. She had taken over him completely.
"Shit." Starsky hurriedly pulled the sheets over them.
Hutch laughed loudly. "Seriously, Starsk? You think she would mind seeing us naked?"
"We should've closed the door," Starsky muttered. "Why don't you go bother the other one on this bed, huh? Why me?" he asked Shaye, trying to keep her away from him.
Hutch laughed even more. "I can't believe you. Worrying over a little dog catching up with some R-rated scenes."
"I don't want to corrupt her," Starsky said in a low voice, as if he didn't want Shaye to hear what he was saying.
"Oh, My God! – You are really worried. Aren't you?"
"Shaye wouldn't come to us while we are at it- you know- she understands stuff like that."
"Oh, yeah? So she has never seen you naked, huh?"
"Of course she hasn't? What type of a question is that?" Starsky asked annoyingly. "She has class, you know. She never comes in to the bedroom after we- I mean Shaye and me, wake up in the morning, and until I'm… decent."
"Decent?" Hutch rolled his eyes. "Sure!"
Starsky glared at Hutch. "Why don't you ask her?"
The little dog wagged her tail and eyed them rather mischievously.
Hutch sighed. He didn't have to ask Shaye. One look at her and he knew Shaye saw right through him, just like her master. The damn little fur ball was actually laughing at him; Hutch was sure. He tucked the covers around him a bit more securely.
"You know, Starsk, you can always ask Shaye if you're still not sure whether I'm a ghost or not," Hutch said, patting Shaye on her head.
"Yeah?" Starsky turned his head and watched Hutch for a while. "Can you see him, Shaye?" He faced Shaye. "Can you see a blond turkey laying right here?" Starsky asked, pulling himself away from Hutch and tickling Shaye on her ears.
"Wuff," said Shaye, jumping all around.
***
A cleaning session was due with all that saliva that was slathered on Starsky by Shaye, Hutch made sure. "I'm not going to lick her spit off your face," he said, pushing Starsky into the bathroom.
Later, while snacking on a slice of chocolate cake and drinking hot chocolate, Starsky and Hutch discussed and 'filled-in-the blanks' of the time Starsky was held by Leo. Realizing they still had time to get some sleep before dawn, they settled back in Starsky's bed.
Shaye watched over the two friends hoping they'd fall into a relaxed, nightmare-free, satiated sleep, wrapped around each other. She sighed and settled in by herself trying to find space where she could sleep without getting kicked by the two men. She didn't like the fact that Hutch was in Starsky's bed. She hardly had any space left. Sure she wanted Hutch to come live with them- But to share their bed with Hutch was not something she expected. Is this how it's going to be? I mean, come on, Softie. You have your own bed, and Starsky's fine now. You better start sleeping in your own. But she knew it. She knew it in her doggy bones. Hutch was going to be a permanent figure in Starsky's bed.
Starsky lay awake on Hutch's shoulder, as Hutch had his arm curled around Starsky.
"Can't sleep, huh?" Hutch asked.
"I don't want to."
"You won't have any nightmares, Starsk. Everything's in the open now. You don't have to worry anymore."
"I am –" Starsky paused for a while. "I'm afraid this's all a dream and you'd be gone when I wake up," he said, trembling inwardly at the memory of Hutch being murdered.
"Ah, Starsk." Hutch pulled Starsky into a full embrace. "I'm right here, and I am very much alive. Nothing ever happened to me."
Starsky snuggled in closer, sighing and closing his eyes, savoring the warmth and comfort Hutch offered.
"Do you think Leo really killed any of Tyler's lovers? Did he ever say anything to you?" Hutch asked.
"He always said that he was not a killer. Said he wanted them dead, but couldn't kill. But then he made me think that he killed you. That I don't understand."
"He was delusional. He didn't think of the damage he was causing to his image by 'killing' me in front of you. He only wanted you to believe that I was dead, and that anyone who got close to you would die. He didn't think beyond that. If he really wanted to kill me, he could've done that at some point. I think he wasn't a killer, but we'll never really know."
Starsky sighed. No… they would never know the truth about Leo.
"We were planning to form a partnership. Weren't we?" asked Starsky.
"You remembered?"
"Yup. I'll talk to Dobey. He's always onto me for not stickin' with one partner for long."
"You better do that because I'm not going to leave you by yourself anymore."
"You sure you wanna come to BCPD?"
"I don't care where I go as long as you're there."
"How romantic-" Starsky sneered, remembering immediately how Hutch had taunted and confused him about their relationship. "You wanted to mess with my head- Didn't you? You, Turkey Buzzard. I didn't know what to think of us."
"Got you thinking, didn't I?" Hutch chuckled. "I had to get you thinking. Had to mess you up a little so that you'd want to know the truth." Hutch lay silent for a while, and began again. "And talking of the truth… who is McClemens?" he asked.
"Mac, who?" Starsky asked. He knew exactly who Hutch was talking about. It appeared that Damian and Hutch had compared notes of his past and present. There was no other man in this world who had ever touched Starsky like Hutch. There had been no other man Starsky wanted to possess or be possessed by, like he did Hutch. There simply hasn’t been anyone else for him. And Hutch should surely know that if Damian talked to him. Guess you want to hear it from me that there has been no one else for me, huh?
"You know who I am talking about," Hutch said angrily.
After a moment of silence, Starsky's mouth widened with a wicked grin. "Aaaahhh… Troy McClemens." Starsky chuckled softly. It was more of a slow giggle bubbling out of him that had initiated somewhere between his chest and throat. "Troy had the best ass in the whole division."
"What?" Hutch snapped. "What did you say? Best ass?"
"Uh huh!"
"Why, you- You-" Hutch turned towards Starsky in a flash. "I swear- I swear to God, Starsk, that if - If – If- there's ever been another man you have- mmpff-"
The rest went muffled as Starsky threw his body over and his mouth closed over Hutch's. He took Hutch by surprise, he could tell looking into Hutch's saucer like eyes. Hutch's possessive, but furious outburst made Starsky come to life back again, like a thousand of lights bulbs flicked on together.
Hutch's eyes closed in a ragged groan as Starsky's tongue swept Hutch's mouth, sinking his love and life into Hutch's soul. Hutch melted under him into a very much alive pool of warm fluid.
Starsky drew away from Hutch, his breathing as harsh and labored as Hutch's. He took a minute to calm down. "So what were you sayin'?" Starsky asked.
Hutch's brows were pulled together in confusion. "Huh?"
Starsky smiled, triumphantly. "'s what I thought," he said, brushing his lips gently against Hutch's. "My one and only," he said softly. "My first, and my last. There has never been anyone else in my life."
***
Sensing she had to leave the men to do their thing, Shaye jumped out of the bed, whining.
Things in the Starsky-Shaye household were never going to be the same again, she sighed. It was going to be a Starsky and Shaye, and Softie household from now onwards. And by the looks of it, she wasn't going to get any sleep if she slept with the two men. And a girl had to have her beauty sleep. She had to have some heart-to-heart to talk with Starsky and get him to leave her little bed outside the bedroom, once they get to his apartment. She'd never get any sleep with this type of nocturnal activity. Besides, there should be someone who was alert in this household of the surroundings when those two get lost like that. Men!
Shaye had her work cut out for her, alright. She had to guard a house and two men, from now onwards. No early retirements for her. Grumbling a bit, but feeling a sense of serenity, knowing that her Starsky was in good hands, Shaye jumped onto the sofa in the living room. She closed her eyes, remembering something Starsky had said, not just once, but twice. 'Turkeys'. Are they planning to have turkey for breakfast? Shaye fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of flying roasted turkeys. Yum!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Epilogue
"We have a new officer assigned to our precinct." Dobey walked in to the BCPD Metro squad room with a new recruit. "Meet Jeremy Fawkes."
Starsky and Hutch turned around to see a very young, tall, blond, Fawkes, who looked like a doll dressed in the smart blue police uniform.
Hutch couldn't help but notice the bright emerald eyes. He glanced at Starsky. A smile formed at the corners of Hutch's mouth at the sight of Starsky, who had turned very pale and become very tense.
"Detective Sergeant David Starsky," Dobey introduced Starsky to the young officer.
Officer Fawkes's smile widened as he reached for Starsky's hand. "David? That's beautiful name. Did you know it means 'beloved'? There're so many variations to that name?" he asked in a very soft and sweet voice.
"T'rrific. Another one of them," Starsky muttered, pulling out his hand from Fawkes's grip in a hurry. He picked up his leather jacket from the chair and was out of the squad room in no time.
Hutch couldn't suppress his laugh.
"I ... I just wanted to say that… with all his dark hair he could've been called Daegon." Officer Fawkes stared at the closed door. "Did I say something wrong?"
Hutch rolled his eyes and picked up his jacket. "Listen, Jeremy. If you ever want to see another day of your life, never mention the name Daffyd or Duh-Veed... or specially... especially… never ever say the name, Daegon. Got that?"
"But... but…," Fawkes stammered.
Hutch pointed his index finger and gave him the final warning. "Not another word!" He, too, was out of the squad room. Hutch had to find his irate partner before he launched his fury on some innocent bystander.
"I just wanted to say that maybe he would like to be called Dae," mumbled Jeremy Fawkes, thinking of making a good impression on Starsky the next day. After all... he had never seen eyes as blue as that, and he'd always had a thing for curly haired brunets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~