Unfinished Business

A Story in Tammy Ruggles' Times and Seasons Universe.

By

Katherine Atkins

Starsky watched through eyes blurred with unshed tears as the doctors worked on Hutch. It seemed to take hours to stabilize the still form on the gurney; the emergency room cubicle teemed with people coming and going, the doctor’s loud orders, the nurses’ quiet replies. "Okay, clear." Once again the blond's body arched as the paddles were applied to his bare chest. Through it all Starsky stood in a corner, thankful that the medical team was too busy to notice him. He wanted to be near Hutch, no matter what happened. A slow but steady beeping sounded in the quiet room.

“Okay, we got him back. Nice work everybody. Let’s get him to surgery,” the doctor intoned at last, straightening and flexing his shoulders in exhaustion. As he turned, he saw the quiet figure in the corner, the dark blue eyes rimmed in red, the slumping shoulders bespeaking the watcher’s agony.

The doctor’s face softened in sympathy. He went to Starsky and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We have to operate, quickly,” he told the dark-haired man. “He has a punctured lung, and other internal injuries."

Starsky swallowed convulsively. For a moment his lips moved silently, the he managed to croak, “Will he be…will he…?”

The hand on Starsky’s shoulder tightened gently. The doctor shook his head. “I don’t know, it’s too soon. I won't know how bad he really is until I see see the x-rays. But I can't wait for them. They'll bring them to the surgical theater as soon as they're developed.”

Starsky nodded. It was what he’d expected. The doctor released Starsky’s shoulder but he kept his hand there as he whispered, “But, if there’s anyone you want to notify, I think you should do it soon.” Starsky closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the doctor was gone.

Davis Starsky and Kent Hutchinson were planning their day as they waited for the shift sergeant to begin roll call. “Let’s stop for breakfast, I'm hungry.” Davis suggested. “Then after we get off work we’ll see how she feels.”

“Who?” Kent asked, abstractedly.

“My baby. My car,” the younger Starsky explained. “I want to see if M. J. fixed her right this time."

Kent grinned. “Why don’t you just face it? You need a new car.”

Davis stiffened. “Never. The Torino will last forever.”

“Yeah? But will it still be running? Maybe you could put it in Dad’s front yard. He could use it as a planter.”

The dark-haired man frowned, his face reddening slightly, but he was interrupted before he could reply.

Detective Sergeant Starsky seldom came into the Patrol Division now. His office, shared with Hutch, was on the floor above. Internal Affairs didn’t mix with the other divisions. It was hard enough to be objective in investigating fellow officers without having friendship get in the way.

David was here, now, though. Wondering how he could tell the two young men about Hutch. How could he tell Kent that his father had been savagely beaten and left to die? How could he tell Davis that the man who had rescued him from the purgatory of an abusive foster family was terribly injured and possibly dying? Before stepping into the shift briefing room, Starsky closed his eyes and prayed for strength.

The roll call room really hadn’t changed, he reflected as his eyes searched it. Still chaotic, noisy and alive. The dark-haired detective let the energy wash over him for a moment, replenishing his exhausted spirit. The shift Sergeant hadn’t arrived yet, so the patrolmen, including Starsky and Hutch’s sons were laughing and joking, preparing for another day on the streets.

Starsky didn’t notice Commissioner Dobey and Captain Shaw standing in the doorway to the briefing room. He was watching Kent and Davis sitting at one of the tables, laughing about something. As he headed for them, Dobey yelled, “Starsky! I want to see you now!”

Davis turned, and saw his father. With a saucy grin, he yelled back to Dobey, “Me,” pointing to himself, or “Him?” pointing to his father.

Dobey frowned thunderously. “Starsky and Starsky, the Captain's office, NOW!,” he bellowed. Kent’s smile of relief was short-lived as Dobey added, “And Hutchinson, if you aren’t too busy, you can join us.”

Kent looked concerned. “But Sir, the pre-shift briefing…”

The large man frowned. “Now! Or would you rather have parking duty for a month?”

“Coming, Sir,” Kent said meekly, blushing a little as he passed his snickering colleagues to follow the others.

Shaw settled in her chair and Dobey stood beside her. The Captain gestured toward the chairs in front of her desk. Kent and Davis eased into them, both wondering what they had done. And why Starsky was involved. Looking at Dobey’s face, it began to dawn on Kent that his own father wasn’t there. His grip tightened on the arm of his chair, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He saw the pain in David Starsky's eyes. Suddenly, Kent's breathing was hampered by a steel hand squeezing his heart.

“Commissioner…” David Starsky began.

Dobey shook his head. “I’ve already seen the report.”

Starsky sighed in relief.

Kent turned pale, and slumped in his chair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “How bad?” he finally asked softly.

Davis looked confused. “How bad is what? What are you talking about, Kent?” His eyes searched the room, looking to the Captain and Dobey, both of whom returned his questioning look with compassion and sadness. It was only then that Davis realized… “Hutch. Something happened to Hutch,” he whispered. Automatically he leaned forward, putting his arm around Kent’s trembling shoulders before looking up at his father. “Okay, tell us,” he ordered gently.

Starsky moved to kneel in front of the two young men, taking Davis’ hand and putting his other hand on Kent’s knee. “It’s bad,” he replied softly. “I found him this morning, when I went to pick him up. Someone broke in last night after I left and beat him up bad. They destroyed his place, and some things were taken. I think somebody was trying to make it look like a robbery. But what they wanted was Hutch…” his voice broke. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “They must have thought he was dead when they left. I don’t think they intended for him to live.”

Kent reached out, covering the hand on his knee and whispered, “But he is still alive?”

Starsky nodded and both young men let out a relieved breath. “They took him to surgery. He’s got internal injuries, broken ribs, a punctured lung, broken arm, dislocated shoulder…”

Davis breathed a fearful sigh. “Will he live?”

Kent’s breath caught in his throat as Starsky shook his head. “They don’t know, yet. He was in surgery when I left.” His eyes took on a faraway look for a moment.

“What?” Davis saw the look. “What is it you aren’t telling us, Dad?”

The elder Starsky bowed his head. “His heart stopped. Twice. Once at the apartment, and once in the Emergency Room.”

“No!” Kent whispered. The world went black for a moment, then he found himself on the floor, cradled in David Starsky’s arms while his brother knelt beside him, and Dobey towered over the group like a huge guardian angel. Kent looked at Starsky, his face working to keep from letting his tears fall. “He can’t die, Uncle Dave. He can’t. I need him.”

Starsky pulled him close, resting his cheek against the blond hair that was so like his partner’s, and whispered, “I do too, Kent. We all need him.” He rocked the younger man slowly back and forth, while Davis lay his hand on Kent’s arm.

Dobey wiped his eyes as the three men on the floor gave in to their grief and fear for a few moments, easing the emotional pressure to the point that would allow them to function until they found out about Hutch. “We’d better get to the hospital,” the big man finally said, gently.

Starsky couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “Hutch isn’t one of your men…” he protested.

“You and Hutch will always be my men,” Dobey responded frostily. “And don’t you ever forget it." He turned to Shaw. "Keep me informed on the investigation."

The Captain nodded.

Hutch was still in surgery when they got to the hospital. The four men were soon joined by a fifth. David Starsky looked up when he walked in. "Huggy, how did you know? I…I'm sorry, I should have…"

"I called him," Dobey admitted gruffly.

"How is he?" Huggy asked, sitting next to Kent and putting a hand on his forearm.

Davis answered, "He's still in surgery. We don't know anything yet."

Kent looked at Huggy. "Does Honey Bear know?"

Huggy nodded. "I called her. She's out of town with a girl friend, but I know how to get in touch with her. I told her not to come back. I'll call her when we know Hutch is gonna be okay. She said to give you and Davis a kiss. I hope you'll pardon me if I pass on that opportunity."

Davis and Kent grinned. "Maybe later, Hug," Davis told him.

Long hours later, a man in blood stained surgical scrubs entered the waiting area. "Anyone here for Mr. Hutchinson?"

The five men stood up.

"All of you?" He smiled. "Mr. Hutchinson is popular."

Starsky was in no mood for small talk. "Is my partner alive?" he asked.

To their relief, the doctor nodded. "He made it through the surgery."

"So he'll be okay," Kent put in.

The doctor looked grim. "Shall we sit down? I'm Dr. Jefferson. I performed the surgery on Mr. Hutchinson."

"Detective Hutchinson. Hutch is a cop. He and my Dad are partners." This was probably more information than the doctor wanted to hear, but Davis needed to say something. Anything.

"All right. Detective Hutchinson is still critical. He suffered internal injuries that caused quite a bit of hemorrhaging. We got the bleeding stopped, but he's very weak."

"Will he make it?" Starsky demanded.

Dr. Jefferson shook his head. "It's possible, but frankly I don't think so. He lost a tremendous amount of blood. I have to tell you that I'm surprised he survived the surgery."

"Can I…we see him?"

"He'll be in ICU in a few minutes. You can go in one at a time, but don't stay long. I'll check him in a couple of hours, and I'll let you know then how things are going."

They made their way to ICU, where, by unspoken agreement, David Starsky went in first.

Starsky bent over the pale form, gently fingering the blond's fair hair. "Here we are again, Buddy," he whispered. Unconscious, his face relaxed and free of the strain of everyday cares, Hutch looked much younger. To Starsky's eyes he was the young Hutch again, cruising the streets in the Striped Tomato, rousting the bad guys, protecting his partner's back and always taking care of his best friend. "We gotta stop meetin' like this Blintz. I'm getting too old for it, ya know?" He took a limp hand in his. "We're all here, Babe. Kent and Davis are goin' crazy, and Huggy and Dobey are worried sick. And you know me. I never can stand it when you're hurt." He squeezed the cold fingers. "You gotta come out of this Hutch. You gotta tell us what happened, so we can get whoever did it. "Okay?"

Kent sat down in the chair next to his father's bed and took his hand. His other arm was in a cast and bound to his chest in order to prevent his moving the injured shoulder. Thick bandages covered his broken ribs and the surgical incision. "Dad, I'm sorry. I wish…I wish I had been there. I wish I could have…I would have stopped them. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you. You gotta know that, Dad. Please, you gotta know that." He stood, bending over the prone form, framing Hutch's face with the big hands that were just like his father's. "I haven't said it very often lately, but I love you…I love you, and I want you to come back so I can tell you. I need to tell you. Please, Dad. Don't leave me. I have to…" His voice broke as the tears he had been holding back broke free, and he sobbed out his love and fear into his father's hair until the senior Starsky came in and gently led him back to the waiting room.

After leaving his brother with Starsky, Davis walked in quietly, standing at the foot of Hutch's bed. He watched the thin chest rise and fall, listened to the soft beeping of the monitors, the quiet whooshing of the respirator. He moved to the side of the bed, putting his hand on a thin shoulder. "Hey, Hutch. It's me, Davis. You've got us all worried, you know? We don't want you to go anywhere. I…we want you to stick around. You have to get better Hutch. There are some things I need to tell you, things I need to say… Kent needs you, Hutch. And Dad. Dad will go crazy without you. And…and I need to tell you something. So just stop this okay?"

They sat in the lounge waiting for the time for their next hourly visit, when the doctor came out of Hutch's cubicle. He looked at the waiting men compassionately. "You can go in now. Stay as long as you like."

Starsky drew a long shuddering breath and stood, finding that his knees weren't quite up to holding him. Lending silent strength, Huggy put an arm around his waist and guided him into the cubicle.

Kent stood, too, but he looked to his brother and stopped. Davis was walking down the corridor, away from Hutch's cubicle. He disappeared through a door marked "Men."

The young blond looked at Dobey. "Tell Uncle Dave I'll be right there, okay?"

Dobey nodded.

Kent stood quietly, listening to the retching noises coming from one of the stalls. Davis finally emerged, looking gray and wrung out. "Sorry," he muttered as he made his way to the sink.

His brother wet a paper towel and handed it to him, watching silently while he wiped his face and washed out his mouth with water from his cupped hand. "Okay?" the blond asked.

"Okay? Okay?" Davis turned on him, his face now flushed with anger, his eyes bright. "How can it be okay. Hutch is dying! Don't you understand? They aren't making us abide by the ICU rules. He's dying, and they're going to let us stay with him. So he won't be alone. So he'll…he'll." Tears spilled from his dark blue eyes, unnoticed. "He's gonna die, Kent. He'll die without…without…I need to talk to him…I need to tell him..." His knees buckled and he sank toward the floor, unable to control his sobs. He didn't even feel his brother's arms come around him.

Kent held Davis while he cried, letting the dark head rest on his shoulder, letting his brother’s tears wash down his neck, whispering over and over, “It’s okay, Frank. Go ahead and cry. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Davis finally raised his head, and mumbled, “Sorry. It’s just…it’s just that…”

The young blond tightened his hold. “It’s okay.” He nodded his head and caressed Davis’ dark hair. “I was so caught up in my own fear, I forgot that you love him, too. I’m sorry, Bro.”

Davis shook his head. “I know. I…I…” He raised his head, looking into loving blue eyes. “He saved me, Kent. No one else even cared, but he did. He and you were the only ones, until Dad came back. He loved me when no one else would, and he took care of me. He taught me that love, real love, doesn’t hurt.”

Kent nodded. “I know. I saw what was going on. When you came, he treated you just like he’s always treated me. That’s how I knew it was okay to love you. He never made distinctions between us, so I knew it was okay. He treated us the same, Bro, so it was okay, because you were his son, too.”

"He took care of me. And since Dad came back I haven't…I didn't…"

"He understands," Kent soothed. "He loves your father more than anyone else in the world. There's no way he'd begrudge Uncle Dave the love you give him."

"I know. But, I still…I want..."

Kent couldn't find anything else to say to comfort him. So he just held his brother until Davis finally calmed, and the two young men made their way to Hutch. Huggy and the commissioner were back in the waiting room.

Starsky was sitting in the chair next to Hutch's bed, holding a limp hand in both of his.

The two young men found chairs and sat on the other side of the bed, Kent holding his father's hand, Davis sitting behind Kent, his hand resting on Hutch's ankle. They sat quietly for a while.

"Uncle Dave?"

Starsky didn't respond for a minute, his whole concentration on his partner's face. Finally he murmured, "Yeah?"

"Would you tell us how you and Dad got to be friends?"

Starsky managed a weak grin. "Come on, Hutch has told you that story a hundred times. He told me so."

Kent smiled. "Yeah, but I never heard your side."

Starsky laughed, in spite of himself. "Okay, just to set the record straight."

"Thanks."

Starsky was lost in thought for a few minutes. "I first saw him at the academy, on our first day. The first morning was orientation, when they gave us our schedules and told us where to get our books, introduced the instructors, explained the schedule, all that administrative stuff. I came in late, and sat in the back. The Commandant was givin' his 'Welcome' speech, and glared at me when I came in, but he didn't say anything.

"I saw this blond-haired guy sitting in the same row I was, but separate. Kind of isolated, you know. I figured he thought he was better than the rest of us. He was wearing a suit, for heaven's sake. Well not really a suit, but a sport coat and tie and a white shirt. I made a bet with myself that the shirt was long sleeved and starched to the nines. The slacks were pressed so hard you could 'a' cut something with the creases. I was right about the shirt. I checked it out when we changed into academy issue sweat clothes for physical therapy.

"Anyway, he looked over at me when I sat down and smiled, like he sympathized with me for getting glared at. I just glared at him, too, and he just turned to look at the Commandant. He didn't look at me again. I know, 'cause I watched him. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for glarin'. I was gonna wait for him after the orientation, but a guy I knew came by and I started talkin' to him and we walked out together.

"Anyway, I didn't think much more about it. There were a lot of guys there, and most of them were friendly and fun. I saw the blond several times. He always seemed to be alone. At lunch he buried his face in a book and although he seemed nice enough, he just wasn't friendly."

Starsky stopped for a moment, his fingers gently massaging the pale hand he held.

"I didn't know until later how lonely he was. He was married, but he and his wife weren't getting along. She didn't want him to be a cop, and she was makin' his life miserable. And his family wasn't much help. His family was in Minnesota, and they weren't close. So he was havin' a hard time, not getting support from anybody. 'Course he wouldn't let anybody close enough to see that.

"Boy, was he smart though. It wasn't long until everyone in the class knew who'd be number one, academically. He always knew the answer if he was called on, but he didn't make a big deal of it. He just knew. He was studyin' his head off, but he made it look easy. He wasn't doin' as well in the physical stuff, though, hand-to-hand combat and shootin' weren't his strong points.

"Now me, I was doing great in the physical stuff. I had the best scores on the firin' range, and I could beat anybody in hand-to-hand. 'Course I had been taught that stuff in the Army, so I had an edge. But I was havin' a hard time in the academic stuff. I was doin' okay, but I wasn't near the top of the class and the position in the class kinda dictated how good an assignment you got after the Academy."

He was silent again, leaning forward to push a stray lock of hair off of Hutch's forehead.

"So, what happened?" Kent asked. He'd heard it before but from his father's point of view; somehow it seemed like a completely different story with Starsky telling it.

"Well, after the first week, they posted our grades on the bulletin board. I was in the middle of the pack for passin' the academic requirements. He wasn't doin' so well on the physical stuff. The two grades were put together to determine overall position in the class. And like I said, your overall ranking had a lot to do with what assignment you got after you graduated. So, he stopped at the table where I was eatin' and asked if we could talk after lunch. I wasn't real sure about it, and my friends all kind of looked at each other, but I said 'yeah'. It was the first time he'd made any kind of overtures to anybody. I admit it. I was curious.

"He offered to help me with the academics if I'd show him the ropes on shootin' and hand-to-hand. It was supposed to be a straight-up trade. No strings, no emotional attachments. But it didn't work out like that. We spent a lot of time together, working on stuff. He was a good athlete, just not real ruthless. It didn't take long to teach him to focus on the objective in shootin' and fightin'. He worked out and boxed, and he wrestled in college, but he'd never really had to defend himself against someone who really wanted to hurt him. I showed him how to do that.

"And I found out he's a born teacher. I always thought he'd make a great instructor at the Academy, but I never told him so 'cause I needed him as a partner. Even back then, he helped me figure all that academic stuff out."

Starsky's voice faded into a yawn. He sat quietly for a few moments, the silence in the room broken only by the sounds of the machines that were helping Hutch survive.

"If you're tired, Uncle Dave, it's okay. We can hear the rest some other time," Kent offered, softly.

"Naw, I'm just getting to the good part," Starsky protested, his eyes bright with mischief and tears.

"We got to be friends, ya know. We didn't seem to have much in common, and we were both surprised that we liked each other. Not nearly as surprised as out instructors and our classmates, though. They all thought we'd kill each other. We didn't hang around each other outside the Academy, and I still ate with the guys and he still read during lunch, but we were friendly. I began to look forward to our training sessions.

"And then, strange things started happenin' to me. The tires on my car were slashed. I started getting nasty notes in my locker, notes callin' me names like "kike" and "Jew-boy". And the guys I thought were my friends started findin' excuses not to eat with me.

"I was eatin' alone one day, tryin' not to think about how everyone in the cafeteria was watchin' me, but nobody wanted to eat with me. I was really feelin' alone, and kinda scared ya know. But then somebody sat down beside me. It was Hutch. He started talkin' about stuff, I don't remember what, but he acted as if nothin' was wrong. Soon I was talkin' to him, and forgetting about the stares of the other guys. He started eatin' with me every day.

"A few days later, Hutch showed up with a split lip and bruised knuckles. I asked him about his lip, but he just shrugged me off. Later, I saw one of the other guys, a bully named Joe Johnson with a big bruise on his jaw and a black eye. I'd had some run-ins with Johnson, but I never had any trouble after that. I never did know what went down, but I had my suspicions.

"Things got back to normal, and the other guys started sittin' with me again. At least, they wanted to. But we started sittin' at a table for two, just Hutch and me.

"Hutch and me, we were getting to be friends, ya know. But I didn't realize what a good person Hutch is until I saw him playing basketball in the park near the Academy. Turns out, every afternoon after classes were over, he went over to the park and played basketball with the street kids. He was pretty good, and they loved him because he really enjoyed playin' with them. He didn't put them down or anything, just played with them. Some of them had even started talking to him about problems they were havin'. He treated them like people, not like street punks. And he didn't act like a policeman with them, he was their friend. I started going over there, too. I think we really helped some of those kids. That's when I knew how special he is, and decided that we would be partners, no matter how long it took."

The room was silent for several minutes. All three men started when they heard a weak moan from the bed. Starsky leaned forward eagerly, and the two younger men shot to their feet.

Hutch blinked rapidly, his eyes roaming around the room.

"Hey, Blintz," Starsky said softly. "It's good to see ya."

The blond tried to speak, but the respirator tube choked him. He pawed the air, calming only when Starsky took his hand and Kent put a hand on his shoulder. He looked at his son and managed a small wink, then closed his eyes and fell into a deep, natural sleep.

"I believe he's going to make it," the doctor told them, sounding not a little surprised. "I don't know why or how, but he's going to make it."

Starsky only grinned. "You just didn't know my partner. He's pretty stubborn."

Hutch was taken off the respirator early that morning. Starsky sent Dobey and Huggy home after the doctor's announcement, and the two younger men had gone to take a break.

So, the next time the patient woke up, he found himself alone with Starsky. He tried to talk, but his throat was raw and dry. Starsky fed him a small spoonful of ice chips. "Take it easy, partner."

His blue eyes clouded with pain and worry, the injured man rasped, "Careful, Starsk."

"I'm always careful. I want to know who did this to you. Can you tell us what happened, Blintz?"

"Ch….Chal…Chalmers," Hutch muttered.

"Billy Chalmers? The Chalmers kid? The rookie cop? Is that who did this to you?"

Hutch nodded.

David concentrated on calming a surge of anger. "Chalmers had help, didn't he? Did you recognize any of them?" Starsky didn't notice the entrance of Kent and Davis. They stood at the foot of the bed, grinning at the sight of Hutch awake and talking.

The injured man blinked. Staying awake was a major effort. But he had to warn his partner. "Only Chalmers…four men. Didn't wear masks…said I wouldn't be alive to identify…" He looked up at Starsky. "Said you're next. Careful…Gordo."

"I'll be okay, Blondie," Starsky assured him.

Davis put a hand on his father's shoulder. "Don't worry, Hutch. Kent and I will take care of him."

Hutch grinned and nodded. He shared a long look with Starsky and whispered, "Good…boys…"

Starsky grinned. "Yeah."

"Tattoo…one of them…"

Starsky didn't even seem to notice the abrupt change in subject. He followed Hutch's thoughts just as he always did.

"One of them had a tattoo?"

"Yeah. 'Monica', with a Cupid…Cupid's arrow through the 'o'. Right forearm." Hutch closed his eyes, his head limp against the pillow.

Starsky was thinking furiously while he gently stroked the hand he held. "Monica. Isn't Sellers' girlfriend named Monica? We met her at the Police Family picnic, remember Hutch?"

No response.

"And Sellers is Chalmers' best friend," Starsky went on to himself. He bent over his partner and whispered, "Hutch, why? Why would he do this?"

The blond in the bed stirred weakly. "Kormann…"

"I gotta go, Buddy. Kent and Davis will be here. Don't worry, I'll be back."

Kent and Davis spoke at the same time. "Oh no you don't, Dad." "Wait, Uncle Dave."

The blond in the bed roused and rasped, "Starsk, don't. You need to wait…" his voice trailed away. "Backup…"

"He's right, Dad. You can't do this alone."

Starsky started to argue, but Kent spoke up, "Come on, Uncle Dave. You know Dad won't rest if you're out there alone. Don't you want him to get well?"

The older man glared at his best friend's son. "So, when did you learn Hutchinson Blackmail 101?'" he asked.

Kent just shrugged and gave him an innocent "Hutch" grin. "Please, Uncle Dave."

The older man sighed. "I never could resist a Hutchinson," he muttered. "All right, who's going with me?"

Davis started to follow him, but Kent stepped forward first. "I'll go with you. Davis will take care of Dad." Davis looked surprised, then smiled his gratitude, giving his brother a silent promise to make sure Hutch was safe.

Starsky looked back, drinking in the sight of his partner sleeping peacefully, and his son standing guard over him. "We'll be back in a while. Do you need anything before we go?"

"No, Kent and I grabbed some breakfast, already. Don't worry about Hutch and me. We'll be here." Davis sat down next to the bed and prepared to watch Hutch sleep.

"So, what do we do first, Uncle Dave?" Kent asked as he settled in the passenger seat of Starsky's red Grand Prix. "Find Sellers?"

"No. First we call Dobey and get a guard put on Hutch's door at the hospital. Then, we do a little research."

"Research? But…"

"Listen, Kent. Your dad and I have learned a lot over the years, and one of the things we learned is that the more information you have, the better off you are when you're in the middle of an investigation. I want to look at Sellers' and Chalmers' personnel files."

"Oh. Can you do that?"

"I can and will do whatever it takes to make sure they don't come after Hutch again," Starsky vowed.

Davis Starsky sat silently, watching over Hutch. He stretched, trying to ease tired muscles, but his gaze never left the injured man's pale face. But the fatigue took over, and his head dropped to his chest as he slept.

Starsky read Chalmer's file, whistling softly. "Hutch was right."

"What is it, Uncle Dave?" Kent asked as he looked up from reading the file marked "Phillip Sellers". He had just noted that the "distinguishing marks" section said that Sellers had a tattoo on his right forearm.

"Kormann."

"Kormann? Didn't Dad say something about him at the hospital? Who is he?"

"More years ago than I care to think about, Hutch and I were involved in a drug bust. There were three other cops involved, Burke, Kalowitz and Kormann. A million dollars worth of cocaine turned up missing. The original owner of the coke, Mr. Stryker, thought Hutch and me had taken it, and we kinda let everyone else think that to take the pressure off of the other three guys. They all had families, they'd been on the force a long time and we didn't think they needed the pressure. Trouble was , it wasn't us, and Burke and Kormann knew it."

"Because they were the ones who took it?"

"Yeah. And they killed one of our snitches, a little guy named Crandall."

"Did you find the coke?" Kent asked. He leaned forward. Even under the present circumstances, he loved hearing about his father and Starsky's old cases.

"Yeah. Burke and Kormann had taken it to Burke's cabin at the Bear Lake. They found me and Hutch searchin' the place and didn't like it much. We fought, and Burke ran. I caught him. But Kormann wasn't so lucky. He and Hutch were struggling over Kormann's gun, and it went off several times. The last time it killed Kormann."

"Wow. That must've really hurt Dad."

"It did. I had chased Burke outside, and when I heard the shot I hauled him back inside the cabin. Hutch was sitting on the floor and Korman was lying a few feet away. Your dad didn't say a word. He just sat there while I called Dobey. The forensics team came and went, and the coroner came to get Kormann. Burke went to the hospital under police guard. And Hutch never moved. He leaned his head back against the refrigerator, and totally zoned out. I don’t think he even knew when Dobey came, even when the captain put a hand on his shoulder.

"Dobey knew Hutch was in bad shape. 'He has to talk to IA, then you can take him home,' he said to me in a low voice. Didn't matter. Hutch was out of it. Dobey coulda yelled it in his ear, and he wouldn't have noticed.

"Finally, everything was wrapped up and it was time to go. I squatted next to Hutch and put my hand on his shoulder. 'Hutch? Hutch?'

"He looked at me, as if he'd never seen me before. 'Starsk?'

"I said, 'Come on, we gotta go.'

"He looked around, like he didn't know where he was. 'Go?'

"I smiled at him, trying to reassure him. 'Yeah, it's time to go.'

"He nodded, and I stood up, putting my hand under his elbow to help him up. Normally, that would have gotten me at least a glare, but he just got to his feet. He swayed a little, and I put my arm around his waist. He didn't object. I knew then that he was in worse shape than even I thought.

"IA cleared him. Burke and I both told them that Hutch and Kormann were fightin' over the gun. The ruled it an accidental death. But you know your dad. He just couldn't let it go.

"Hutch was like a zombie at the funeral. Just sat there, his eyes on the priest, but he wasn't really there. I don't know where he was, but I had to keep nudgin' him so he'd stand up and sit down when he was supposed to.

"It was worse at the cemetery. When Kormann's kids threw flowers on their father's casket, I heard Hutch sob. We were standing a little away from the family, so no one heard. No one else would stand near us, and I was glad. Hutch was gonna break at any minute, and I didn't want anyone to see it.

"He mighta made it if Kormann's oldest kid hadn't attacked him. One minute the kid, a boy about 6, was standing next to his mom, and the next he was yellin' at your dad. I held him off, but he was fightin' and kickin', screamin' that Hutch had killed his father and he would pay. Hutch just stood there in a daze while the kid kept screamin and hittin'. Dobey got the kid away from us and tried to talk to him while I got Hutch and took him home.

"We found out that Mrs. Kormann put the kid up to it. In spite of Burke's admission that he and Kormann stole the coke and killed Crandall, she was convinced that Hutch and me set her husband up to take the fall.

"It took a few days, but your dad pulled himself together. When he went back to work, most of the guys at the precinct let him know that they didn't buy Mrs. Kormann's theory.

"I guess Kormann's death sort of unhinged her for awhile. She kept writing letters to IA, the DA's office, the Commissioner, the mayor, tryin' to get someone to reopen the case. Nobody took her seriously, and she finally left town. We heard she remarried, and that the new husband adopted Kormann's kids."

"And the new husband's name was 'Chalmers'?"

The older man nodded sadly. "You got it."

Starsky stood up. "We need to talk to Dobey and Shaw."

Starsky didn't bother to knock on the Commissioner's door. He just walked by the secretary's desk, trailed by a tall blond. Both men ignored the secretary's protests.

Dobey was talking to Captain Shaw. They both glared when the other two came in. "Starsky, what are you doing here?"

"Hutch says a rookie cop named Chalmers was one of the guys who attacked him. Chalmers and another cop named Sellers. And, Chalmers is Kormann's son."

Dobey's face cleared as understanding dawned. "Kormann. Bill Kormann?"

"The very same, Cap…I mean Commissioner. Looks like Chalmers decided to be a cop like his dad, and get revenge on Hutch with the help of some of his cop friends." Starsky's voice was cold with anger. Hutch says four of them jumped him. He never had a chance."

"What kind of evidence have you got, Starsky?"

"Hutch says one of the attackers was Chalmers. He didn't know Sellers by name, but he identified him by a tattoo on his right forearm."

"Yeah, and Sellers' personnel file confirms that he has a tattoo," Kent added.

"Okay, bring in Sellers and Chalmers. But don't say anything about this to anybody else. We don't want the other two to get spooked," Dobey warned.

Starsky nodded. "Ok. These guys will talk. I promise you."

"No rough stuff, Starsky," Shaw put in. "That won't help."

"It'll help me," Starsky growled.

"And me," Kent echoed, softly.

Dobey stood and leaned over his desk. "No rough stuff. From either of you. I want these guys as much as you do. But we gotta do it…"

"By the book," Starsky and Kent finished for him in unison.

Davis Starsky started awake, looking around in confusion until he remembered the events of the last 24 hours. He looked around the room, his blue eyes finally locking with a pair of paler blue eyes. Hutch was watching him, a small smile on his battered face.

"Hey, Hutch. You okay?"

The man in the bed nodded. "Just thinking."

Davis leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the bed. "About what?"

"About how much you're like your dad. You sleep just like he does, sprawled out like you can be comfortable anywhere. That's just how he always looked whenever he stayed with me when I was in the hospital." Hutch shifted a little on the bed, grimacing.

Davis stood up. "Are you okay? Do you want me to call the nurse?"

Hutch shook his head and used his good arm to wave away Davis's concern. "Have you heard from Starsky and Kent?"

"Not yet. I'm sure we'll here something soon." He sat down again. "Why don't you try to rest some more."

Hutch shook his head. "No, I want to be awake when they get back." He closed his eyes, fighting the sleep his body was craving. "Maybe I'll rest a little," he conceded.

Davis grinned and resumed his vigil.

Sellers was at the precinct, getting ready to go on duty. He didn't seem concerned when Captain Shaw asked him to come into her office. But when he saw Starsky standing at Shaw's desk, he tried to turn back. Unfortunately for him, Kent Hutchinson was standing behind him, and there was no way he could get around the angry blond.

Starsky gestured Sellers to a chair while Shaw quietly left. The older detective was the spirit of calm and cool, quietly asking questions while Kent stood with his back to the door, glowering angrily at his fellow uniformed officer. Starsky couldn't help smiling secretly at this reversal of the way he and Hutch usually worked. "Hutch will be proud of me. He'll be proud of both of us."

It didn't take long for Sellers to admit to the beating. He almost sounded proud of himself. "Chalmers told us how Hutchinson gunned down his father and how he got off scot-free because he was Dobey's fair-haired boy. (Starsky stepped in front of Kent, preventing him from attacking Sellers). So we decided to set the record right.

"We parked across the street and waited until Hutchinson was alone. Then we went in and…" Sellers faultered, seeing the anger in his interrogators' eyes. "We…uh…he put up a pretty good fight for awhile. But we finally…uh…well…we finally left him…lying…uh…"

"Who was with you? Who else?" Kent was shouting, but Starsky didn't restrain him this time. He stood behind the prisoner, his arms folded.

"It was Anderson and…and Folsom."

Starsky called Shaw into the office. "Captain, we have three officers who Sellers says participated in the beating of my partner. Chalmers and Anderson and Folson should be detained for questioning. "

Shaw looked very uneasy.

Kent asked anxiously. "What is it?"

"Chalmers is on his way in. I called him, told him I needed him for extra duty. Anderson is in the roll call room. Neither one of them knows what's going on. But…but Folsom…"

"What?" Starsky didn't like the look on Shaw's face.

"I…I sent Folsom to the hospital to guard Hutchinson's room."

Starsky and Kent were out of the office before she finished her sentence.

Shaw sighed, and grabbed Sellers' arm, taking him to the door. In the corridor, the captain rounded up several more uniforms and headed for the roll call room to detain Anderson while two officers were assigned to wait for Chalmers.

Davis woke up when a hand shook his shoulder. He looked up, and grinned at the uniformed man smiling down at him. "Hey, Johnny, what's going on?"

Johnny Folsom smiled back. "I'm assigned to guard Hutchinson's room. I thought you might want to get some coffee or something. Maybe you could take a break for a few minutes. I'll keep an eye on him."

The younger Starsky stretched. "Nah, I'm fine. Just keep your eyes open, huh?"

Folsom looked sympathetic. "You look pretty beat. Are you sure you don't want to stretch your legs for a minute? I'll take good care of Hutchinson."

Davis shrugged. "Well, just for a minute. I am getting pretty stiff." He stood and walked out of the room, pausing to pat Hutch's arm before he exited. "I'll go to the cafeteria, get myself some coffee. Do you want anything?"

"Yeah, I'll take some coffee. Black."

After Davis left, Folsom moved silently to the bed and looked down at the sleeping patient. "Too bad," Folsom murmured. "Just when they thought you were getting well, too…" He pulled a syringe from his pocket, and prepared to inject the contents into Hutch's IV. He stopped for a moment, then picked up the telephone receiver and laid it on the bedside table. "We don't want any interruptions now, do we?"

Kent sighed his frustration. "Can't get through to Dad's room. I had dispatch try to patch it through, but the line's busy."

"Yeah," Starsky muttered as he pressed harder on the Grand Prix's accelerator. "Yeah."

Folsom picked up the syringe and placed the needle in the IV. "Just a few minutes now Hutchinson. This won't hurt a bit." He looked down at the sleeping man. "It's better than you deserve, but I can't help that."

"Johnny? What are you doing?" Davis Starsky asked hoarsely. He stood in the doorway, trying to understand what he was seeing.

Folsom moved, pulling the syringe away from the IV and putting the point of the needle against Hutch's throat. "Just stay right there, Davis. Don't move."

"Why? Why?" Davis took a small step, hoping that his anguished tone would distract Hutch's attacker. "Talk to me, Johnny."

"Your pal here killed Billy's father. Gunned him down in cold blood, and never even had as much as a reprimand."

"Hutch? Come on. You've got to be kidding."

Folsom shook his head, while his hand moved the needle against Hutch's neck. A small drop of blood appeared. Folsom's free hand grabbed a handful of blond hair to hold Hutch's head still. The voices and the prick of the needle were bringing the injured man to consciousness. "Hold still, Hutchinson. And you, too," he said to Davis.

Hutch's eyes opened, but he lay still, watching Folsom calmly.

"You can't get away with this, Johnny. Even if you kill Hutch, I'll get you. And if I don't, my dad or Kent will track you down. You can't get away."

Folsom shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Once I inject this stuff, you'll be too busy trying to save Hutchinson to worry about me. No one else knows I'm in here. All I have to do is push the plunger, and you'll have about a minute before your precious Hutchinson will have your undivided attention."

Davis took another small step. "Don't do this, Johnny. You're all wrong about Hutch."

"No way. Billy told me how it was."

"Billy's wrong," Hutch rasped.

Folsom turned his attention to his prisoner. "Shut up, Hutchinson."

Davis took advantage of Johnny's inattention to take another very small step. He was calculating distances, trying to figure out if he could jump Folsom before he could push the deadly plunger. Not quite close enough yet.

"Look, Johnny. Hutch was my foster father for 4 years. He took me in when no one else would, and he loved me."

"Don't give me that. I know who your father is." Folsom argued.

"Yeah, but my father wasn't around when Hutch found me. I was in a foster home, Johnny. They…they beat me and…and abused me. Hutch found me and took me home. He took care of me, and loved me, even before my own father did. Believe me, I love my father. But, I love Hutch, too. And I can't let you kill him. I can't. And as for Hutch killing anyone in cold blood, you can't make me believe that. I've known his since I was 14. He wouldn't hurt anybody who wasn't doing something wrong or trying to hurt someone. He just wouldn't."

Folsom looked uncertain. "But Billy, he said…"

Hutch spoke up, his voice hoarse but calm. "It was an accident…Kormann and I were fighting…I was trying to get his gun…it went off…"

Johnny looked at Hutch. "That's not what Billy said."

Hutch closed his eyes. "It's what happened," he whispered.

Johnny was looking at Hutch, trying to decide if the injured man was telling the truth. Seeing his advantage, Davis took two more steps and grabbed Folsom's arm, knocking the syringe away. Johnny swung, but the other man blocked his punch. Two powerful blows to the stomach sent Folsom to the floor, clutching his abdomen and groaning.

The younger Starsky looked at Hutch, anxiously. "Hutch, you okay?"

"Yeah. You okay?" Hutch opened his eyes and examined the young man with worried eyes. "Starsky would never forgive me if I let you get hurt," he muttered. "Did you know that you fight like your father, too?"

"Thanks, Hutch. That's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me," Davis teased.

"It wasn't exactly a compliment," Hutch grinned tiredly.

"Why don't you get some rest while I clean up the trash," Davis offered.

"That won't be necessary," said a voice from the doorway.

Davis turned to see Billy Chalmers standing in the doorway, pointing a police special at Hutch. Davis tried to move into the line of fire, but Hutch somehow found the strength to push him back.

"Billy, don't."

"Shut up, Davis. He killed my father, now I'm gonna kill him. I thought he was dead when we left him. I should have made sure, but these things happen. Folsom called me and told me your dad's partner is alive. I though I'd just come by and make sure Johnny finished the job. Good thing I did."

"Wait."

"Nope. I'm going to finish this now, Hutchinson. I've waited a long time for this." Chalmers grinned. "This is for my dad."

Several things happened at once. Davis desperately lunged, pushing Hutch off the bed and out of the bullet's path. Billy Chalmers squeezed the trigger of the special and David Starsky barrelled into the room, followed by Kent Hutchinson.

Starsky tackled Chalmers spoiling his aim, Chalmers' weapon fired, sending a bullet into the wall above Hutch's bed, and Hutch landed on the floor with a groan.

While Starsky and Kent subdued Chalmers, Davis went to Hutch, cradling him in his arms. "Hutch, you okay? Please, be okay. Please, Hutch. I need you to be okay."

Hutch's eyelids fluttered. "I'm okay. How about you? Did he hurt you?"

Davis shook his head. "I'm fine." Anticipating Hutch's next question, he added, "Dad and Kent are okay, too."

"Did…did they get him?"

"Of course, Blintz. How could you even ask?" a teasing voice answered.

Hutch raised his hand, knowing it that would be taken and held. "You okay, Gordo?"

"Never better, Blondie. As soon as we get rid of Chalmers and Folsom, we can concentrate on getting you well and out of here. We won't leave you again."

Hutch smiled. "It's okay. I was in good hands." His eyes searched the room until he found his son and asked a silent question. Kent nodded and Hutch relaxed.

Shaw entered with some uniforms. The policemen made quick work of cuffing the two young cops and hauling them away.

Shaw stood over the group on the floor. "He okay?"

"Yeah." Starsky and the two younger men carefully lifted Hutch back into the bed, thankful that he seemed none the worse for having been pushed out of the bed. That didn't keep Starsky from insisting that Hutch's doctor do a thorough examination, much to Hutch's disgust.

"He's fine, or as fine as a man can be with broken ribs, a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder and a surgical incision 6 inches long. He'll be all right, but I wouldn't recommend that he repeat today's activities anytime soon."

"We'll keep an eye on him, Doc," Starsky promised, ignoring Hutch's glare.

Hutch shifted restlessly on the bed. "You should be proud of your son, Starsk. He was really cool under fire. He saved my life."

Starsky was sitting on the edge of Hutch's bed. "I think we can be proud of both of our boys, Hutch. Kent did a good job helping me figure out what was going on. And he has a real future as an interrogator. He's got that "shove cop" attitude down pat."

Hutch shook his head. "I'll talk to Kent later. Maybe I can still steer him in the right direction…"

Davis and Kent grinned. "Come on Kent. I think they need to be alone."

As the two younger men turned to leave, Hutch called, "Thanks, Davis. I love you, too, you know."

Davis didn't turn, but he called over his shoulder, "I know."

Starsky looked at his partner. "What was that all about?"

Hutch smiled, his eyes closing as fatigue took him. He spoke around a huge yawn. "Don't worry about it, Gordo. I'll explain it all to you later..."

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