*****

 Part 8

"Hey Al.looks like your "pet project" finally crashed and burned!  Seems he's landed in the hospital, and both his captain and the Head nurse at the Intensive Care Unit want to know why."

Without looking up from the patient file she'd been annotating, Dr. Alex Kellen, gave her usual dismissal of the nickname that her boss seemed determined to force upon her.

"I'm warning you, for the last time, Peter.  Stop calling me that!" she snarled, by way of a greeting her supervisor.

This time though, her response had had a serious edge to it.  She had bristled mentally at Peter's reference to Dave Starsky as her "pet project".  So nicknamed, because she had refused to give up on the detective.even though he seemed to (albeit politely, but firmly) reject her best efforts to treat him.

But after a few seconds, she then raised her almond-shaped green eyes to receive the expected smirk, by way of her supervisor's response.  That ritual done, she could focus on his abrupt message, and start interrogating Dr. Peter Randall for the details.

After he left, she then called in the Grad student who was her assistant (for THIS month anyway).  Peter seemed to relish the presumably "sacred duty" he had assumed within the department; to scare the beejeezus out of every Grad student who came to serve their practicum with the police department's psychiatry unit.  That is, after he had managed to get the maximum amount of work from them, of course.

"Weeding out the chaff" Alex believed he called it?  She laughed silently, as the image of Peter chasing one of the students down the hall with a scythe came into her mind.

'Whoa, Alex,' she chuckled to herself.  'Wouldn't do to get THAT dream analyzed!'

Whereas Peter always simply barged into her office, Tara always managed to knock just discretely, but loudly enough before entering.

'Ah, well.back to the business at hand.' She thought, mentally brushing herself off, and formulating her next plan of action.

"Tara?  Pull the "public file" of Detective David Michael Starsky, and give the Head ICU Nurse at "General" a call.  Tell her if she has any other questions, that she'll need to call the Precinct's medical department.  Give her their number and ours, and ask her about his current status."  Alex paused, for a bit while Tara continued scribbling notes on a pad. 'God.I hope Dave's all right,' she prayed silently. Seems she'd done a LOT of praying for this particular patient, these past few months.

Alex had even stretched the rules for him a bit, so that she wouldn't be forced to "cut him loose", and turn his record over to the disability board.  Not that she didn't think Dave was a good candidate for disability.if that's what he wanted.  But she had always hated doctors who just used the board as a "dumping ground", without even really trying to help their patients prior to their release from police service.

The adjustment failure was so much higher for these patients.

Ex-cops "eating" their gun, soon after being discharged.  Domestic violence incidents.  Alcoholism, drug addiction.  Divorce.  Estrangement from their children and families.

Total isolation from everything, and everyone they cared about.leading to frustration, anger, depression, and then death. Death which was usually self-inflicted, but there had also been reports of fatal illnesses or heart attacks happening soon after the police
officer had left the force.

And now, because of continuos budget cuts, the Psych Dept. had suffered right along with all the other departments being cut.  They were now forced to place a time limit onto most of their case files, according to the severity of the patient's illness.

'Damn,' she cursed softly.

And now this latest crisis of Starsky's would either buy her some more time with him.or it would force him out of the police force even faster. A discrete cough pulled her back from her thoughts.

'Oh.Tara was still waiting for her to finish.'

"Ummmm.and Tara?  Ask the Head nurse if.if she wouldn't mind keeping us apprised of any changes, okay?"

Tara nodded, and smiled knowingly.  She knew that this patient was special to Dr. Kellen.  She hoped he was all right, too.  He was such a nice guy.

'Kinda cute too,' Tara had assessed of Detective Starsky, categorizing him with all of her 21 year old expertise of the male sex.  'At least' she amended, sadly 'when he didn't walk in here looking like "death warmed over".' Tara shook herself mentally, and left her bosses' office to complete her tasks.

Alex got up from her desk to open her locked file cabinet, and pulled out the "private" file kept on David Michael Starsky to review.  She wanted to have all of her facts straight before calling his captain.  Whatever Dobey NEEDED to know, she would tell him, within the confidential boundaries she'd established with her patient.  And she acknowledged that Captain Dobey really cared about his personnel.

So maybe, if he asked the right questions.she could stretch those boundaries a bit, to give him an edge.  As long as that info would not place her patient in jeopardy; physically, emotionally, or professionally.  She did not think she had to worry about Starsky's profession being in jeopardy with this particular captain, though.  Dobey was not known for playing the ritual political games that others were known for.  Perhaps that's why he hadn't moved up in the ranks as fast as he should.  But then, maybe his people were just MORE important to him.

She pulled on the brown tortoise-shelled reading glasses, and set to work, diligently reviewing her patient notes, and a listing of prescriptions.   Alex also reviewed an adjunct medical record, which she kept for all of her patients, along with Detective Starsky's current blood levels.  These monitor his body's reactions to the multitude of medications he was taking, as well as giving his doctors proof that he was indeed taking the medication as prescribed.  Not surprisingly she noted that his last blood test had been several weeks ago.

It was one of the reasons she had resorted to the emotional blackmail of her patient, when nothing else seemed to work.  Not even standing beside Dave's empty desk, after he'd somehow sense her presence in the area, and had managed once again to disappear right before she got there.

So, she had been forced into "casually" cornering Starsky's partner, to ask him where Starsky had been lately.  Knowing Hutchinson would then go into major "detect and protect" mode, and pursue answers from his partner like a dog with a bone might have ensured some success, if Starsky hadn't ended up in the hospital.

Obviously Hutchinson had been sensing something was wrong with his partner, too.  And he seemed determined to be helpful, as another piece of his OWN puzzle had seemed to fall into place upon Alex's query.

She'd taken the risk that if anyone could get Starsky back into treatment, it would be Hutchinson.  But maybe it had turned out to be to big a risk for her patient.  If so, maybe.maybe SHE would have to be the one to let go.and cut him loose.

But she would STILL make damn sure that he was "forcefully" referred to someone on the "outside".

'NO one was just "dumping" HER patient out on the street!' Dr. Kellen vowed. And she was sure that she could count on Captain Dobey's support to ensure it!

'Better make that call to him, now!'

Part 9

His first thought upon waking this time had been: No.please.  Not this again.

It was a measure of the level of his despair that he didn't even notice the tragic, and very different turn his thoughts had taken from the norm.

His first thoughts used to be centered on something completely different.something hopeful.  Focused on summoning the strength to say just one name.  It had always been a comfort to both of them.searching for the one face that he just had to see, so he'd know that it was finally going to be okay.  Making him feel more like a human being again, and less like a wounded animal.

It was always the same for both of them.just a name, spoken as question, and almost a prayer: "Hutch?"

Then he'd feel a strong hand, gently gripping his.  And he'd look for that blond halo of hair, blocking out the bright fluorescent.feel a hand stroking his head.  Then he'd hold his breath.waiting for it.  Waiting for that final affirmation.

"Hey, buddy.  I'm here."

And then, he could breathe again and close his eyes, knowing he was safe.  Knowing that they'd made it, again.  Against all the odds.  "Me and thee".

But not this time.  This time, all he could summon up were feelings of disappointment, and dread.  He was tired.too tired to even care about the one's he might've "left behind", if he never woke up again.  Besides, thinking about them only increased the guilt he'd already been feeling before all of this had happened.  Guilt about all the time, and effort, and the worry that his best friend had already wasted on him.only to have to disappoint them both in the end.

(Never again.  They would never again--)

'Okay, Starsky.  Get a grip,' he shook himself mentally.  'Cut out the "sob-sister" routine, already!'

He closed his eyes, squeezing the lids tightly against the tears that threatened to fall.  He tried to get a grip on his emotions.  They always became so magnified by the drugs.making him feel even MORE out of control.  His heart was beating too fast, making it hard to breathe.  And his head was still spinning, even with his eyes closed.

(Uh, oh.)

Now he heard the urgent steps coming toward him, which signaled THEIR arrival.  They'd discovered that he was awake, and now he knew they wouldn't leave him alone, or let him rest for a long time.  Starsky groaned inwardly, and a choked sob began forming in his throat. Frustrated and angry, as the assaults he was forced to endure upon waking left him craving for a return to oblivion.  A finger began poking at his eyelid, while a bright light flashed across his already distorted vision.  And as some "vampire" began inserting needles, an insistent voice was asking him the same stupid questions:

Can you tell us your name?
What's your mother's first name?
Where do you live?
How old are you?

(As if any of THESE "Bozos" would remember their own name, after being shot full of holes, and opened up like a zipper!)

After being poked and prodded.cut up and stitched up, Starsky often felt like some kind of  "practice dummy" for some future "Dr. Frankenstein". His hand was beginning to itch for his absent gun.  But he couldn't decide whether to shoot the doctor first.or put the nonexistent weapon to his OWN head, to stop it from pounding.

Damn.

His brain just wasn't cooperating.too foggy for these important decisions.   He hated having no control over his own body.powerless against all the things being done to it.  Starsky almost preferred the intensity of the pain, to the fuzziness of being drugged.  In the hospital he had no choice about taking them.the I.V. kept him tanked to the gills with the stuff, in a steady drip.   But they left him unable to think clearly.  They gave him nightmares and left huge gaps in his memory, which terrified him.  This left his friends with the task of filling in the blanks for him, but he still felt angry and frustrated about the missing pieces of his life, that were lost to him forever. And he never really got any rest in a hospital, which was why he had
always fought so hard to go home.

This time was different, though.   Starsky's body had survived, but he didn't feel much like fighting.  And he knew from past experience that the healing would (again) be long, and tortuous.  Which meant that while trying to relieve his partner of one burden...he had only succeeded in adding another to it.  And now, there would be NO way of sparing Hutch the disappointment of his own foregone conclusion...that they would never be partners again.

Maybe that's why he couldn't suppress a flinch this time, when he felt a familiar hand on his forehead.  The weight of his own failure was still with him...bearing down on him heavily.
 

Part 10

"Hey, buddy," Hutch whispered, "it's just me".

Upon feeling the flinch that had accompanied his touch, Hutch had silently resolved not to do so again without giving his friend some kind of warning.  Starsky's reaction seemed perfectly natural to him, in view of the fact that several strangers had been handling his friend's body these past two days.

Hutch knew from personal experience how frightening it was to be forced to surrender control over your own body to strangers, and to be touched at odd hours without warning or consent.  To be prey at any moment to having another orifice probed and violated.

The doctors had warned Hutch that his partner would probably be displaying some erratic behavior over the next few days.  All the drugs they would have to load Starsky up with had side effects.  Add to that the physical pain and emotional stress he would be suffering due to this latest medical crisis -- well, Hutch figured his best friend was entitled to act a little strange.

No.what worried him more was the fact that Starsky seem to be so.so ambivalent about everything, this time. He didn't fight the staff about anything.he didn't complain about anything (Starsky, not complaining about being in a hospital?!).

Even the ICU nurses had become concerned at noticing that their too-thin, dark haired patient seemed withdrawn to the point that he barely even responded to the blond detective who visited every day.  Except for the tears that would flow from beneath tightly closed lids after his friend left--but that could've been due to mood swings, brought on by the various drugs.

And this morning, when the orderlies had entered ICU to move Starsky to a semi-private room on the fifth floor, the patient had pretended to be asleep.  Then the fifth floor nursing staff noted that until Detective Hutchinson's arrival, he had continued to do so, refusing to acknowledge any of the staff that had entered his room.

It had taken all the calming meditation techniques Kenneth Hutchinson had learned over the years to keep him from having his own collapse, while waiting (once again) to see if his partner would survive emergency surgery.  Then when the surgeon had walked away after finally coming out to talk to the three "family members" about Detective Starsky's condition, it had taken both Huggy and Captain Dobey to restrain him from putting his fist through a wall.  And when they had finally felt it safe to let go of him, they had had to catch him and lead him to a chair, before he had a chance to slide down the wall.

And while the two friends watched worriedly for the blond detective's next atypical response, Hutch was feeling torn.  Torn between the relief, that always accompanied NOT having his greatest fear realized (THIS time!)-- and a frighteningly intense anger.  An anger that had accompanied his finding out from the surgeon that this latest crisis of Starsky's had been perpetrated by a bleeding ulcer, that had almost been discovered too late.  Thus, causing some additional complications, that had become almost critical during the surgery, and which in the surgeon's opinion, "due to Detective Starsky's already weakened condition, he could ill afford.  Especially since he still retained certain health risks incurred, due to his previous injuries".

Damnit, Starsky!  Hutch shuddered, while focusing on the words. 'almost discovered TOO LATE.?'

If he hadn't been so exhausted, the blond detective might've acted on the insane, urgent desire that had suddenly come over him at that moment. Hutch imagined himself rushing to Starsky's bedside in the Intensive Care Unit.  Then, reaching through all the tubes and wires that were attached to his friend, he imagined himself just shaking the stubborn idiot.  And he would continue to shake until all of Starsky's teeth began to rattle, the curly hair began to straighten, and that dirtball between the ears that Starsky sometimes used for a brain--!

And even now, after an 18 hour nap followed by a much needed shower and shave, Hutch was fearful that his feelings were still to close to the surface.  As his partner seemed intent upon withdrawing further and further from his own feelings, Hutch on the other hand was afraid of emoting too much, fearing that he might say or do the wrong thing.

While he continued to stroke the pale forehead, Hutch sighed wearily, dreading the Medical Board's reaction to Starsky's latest setback. As concerned as he was about his friend's current emotional state -- Hutch had to wonder about what it would do to Starsky, if the Police Department forced him into an early retirement, cutting him permanently off from the work that he most loved?

Damnit!  It wasn't fair!
Not fair for the bravest--the strongest, most stubborn, best friend a man could ever have--to have suffered, and survived as much as Starsky had--!

Would there be enough prayers and enough sweat . enough love and faith to bring Starsky back to them (to me? Hutch silently added) this time?

Were there even enough pieces left this time to put "Humpty-Dumpty" back together, again?

Or, a more terrifying question--would "Humpty-Dumpty" even care?

Hutch also worried if he could trust himself to maintain the usual detachment and reserve that he had often relied upon before.  It had always served to keep him focused during any crisis situation, especially whenever Starsky needed him to lean on until he was strong enough to stand on his own.  But this time, he worried about his ability to "keep a lid on" his own doubts and fears.

Like his partner, he'd always been somewhat reluctant to seek out the department "head shrinkers" for help.  Like most cops, when it came to seeking professional help from the Psych department, he was too mistrustful of leaks within the department, and fearful of the consequences of letting anyone "get into" his head.  But both he and Starsky had recently found themselves being "blackmailed" into seeing someone by their captain.

And though Hutch had been resentful at first, the therapist he'd been seeing had gradually earn his respect, and eventually his trust.

So begrudgingly, he silently acknowledged that perhaps this time, he wouldn't have to take on the burden of "being strong for Starsky" alone. Correction--he had learned that he had always been the one to insist on assuming the burden alone.  So, maybe this time, he could accept some help from his friends, and allow them to lighten the load for him.
 

Part 11

With the understanding that she would be unable to reveal to them anything of a confidential nature, Dr. Kellen had agreed to join Detective Hutchinson and Captain Dobey for a great part of their "what to do about Starsky" strategy meeting.  A meeting that his captain had insisted on putting off for a few days, since Hutch had finally been persuaded (ordered) to go home and get some rest, now that his partner was out of ICU.

Hutch could hardly believe it had only been a week since Starsky had been rushed to the hospital.  He still cringed whenever entering that particular men's bathroom, averting his gaze from the stall where he'd discovered his partner, slumped next to a toilet bowl--the clear water having been colored red by Starsky's blood.

Mentally shaking that image away, Hutch began setting up the coffee pot in the empty interrogation room that had been chosen for their 10am "discussion".  It was now 9:45, but Hutch had arrived about three hours earlier, having been startled awake at 4am this morning by a nightmare.

His own screaming had woke him up, after dreaming that he'd been holding onto his partner, who'd been dangling from a cliff.  He'd felt helpless and terrified as his hand began slipping.  But most disturbing had been Starsky's refusal to look up at him, or acknowledge Hutch's pleas for him to "hold on"--his friend neither struggled in his grasp, nor did he make any attempts to climb up on his own.

Then after what seemed to him to be an eternity, the midnight blue eyes of his best friend had finally looked up to meet his.  And Hutch watched in horror, as his partner's pale features began to take on an almost serene expression of relief.  Then Starsky closed his eyes, smiling--and simply let go of Hutch's hand.  Making no sound, as Hutch's own screams followed him down.

Unable to sleep afterwards, he'd cleaned up and come in to work on some reports, trying to keep his mind busy and his body from fidgeting.

Now he looked up from his notes at the sound of the door to the interrogation room opening.  Hutch stood to greet Dobey and Dr. Kellen, as polite introductions were made.  He passed out the coffee before resuming his own seat, then he sat silently listening, while tightly holding onto his own coffee cup to keep his hands from visibly shaking.

Hutch was now surprised to find that Dobey seemed to be "one up" on him for a change, with regards to his curly-headed "other half".  Once Starsky had landed in the hospital, it seemed that Dobey had not only smelled a rat, but had since been conducting his own background investigation.  And by the time of their meeting, the captain had come up with his own suspicions.

Aware of his blond detective's tendency toward guilt with regards to being unable to anticipate any kind of danger or distress to his partner, Dobey carefully refrained from any hints of "finger pointing", giving out no "shoulds" or "coulds" for either of the rooms other occupants.  Simply laying out his own confusion and frustration as to how a man had supposedly recovered enough for the medical department to recommend that he be removed from light duty status, beginning next week, had suddenly
ended up at death's door with no apparent warning.

As for the medical department, if one read between the lines of Dr. Kellen's briefing, Starsky had been doing a regular "Houdini" act. Hiding both his physical and mental decline, as well as "running rings" around not only the medical staff, but seemingly the police department as a whole. Starsky had also been aided in his deceptions for the most part by Homocide's very real backlog of cases, as a semi-legitimate excuse for missing his scheduled appointments.

If Starsky hadn't already in a hospital bed--! Hutch silently cursed, then jumped at the loud sound his pencil suddenly made, after snapping in his hand.

Looking abashed, he softly thanked Dobey after accepting the pen his captain quietly passed over to him.  Then blushed further, when he glanced up to see Dr. Kellen's sympathetic gaze resting briefly on him. However, he was grateful that she seemed to sense his discomfort, and continued speaking as though an interruption hadn't occurred.

It all added up to that stupid dirtball of a partner of his trying to protect Hutch from what now seemed to be inevitable --that he and Starsky would never work together as partners in the police force again.  But what was really amazing is that according to their captain, Starsky had even made contingency plans for Hutch--wanting him to take the Lieutenant's exam and get off the streets.

To Dobey, Starsky had made a convincing argument that Hutch was already approaching burn-out, which might lead to the blond detective "getting himself killed" without Starsky on the streets to look after him.  And anyway, he argued that they both "weren't gettin' any younger--and Hutch already has the college credits, the commendations and the brains to make Lieutenant, first time up," Starsky had insisted, not without a little pride in his partner showing.

Then came the discovery that the master manipulator had gotten their friend Huggy in on a little "week-long getaway" surprise for Hutch. Apparently, Starsky had been secretly planning this "thank you" gift for his partner for some time.  Calling in a few favors from co-workers to ensure a week of uninterrupted leave time for Hutch, and had enlisting Huggy's help in making the arrangements.  But neither Huggy nor Hutch had been aware of Starsky's determination to hide his own pain and illness, even at the risk to his own health, until his partner was safely away and free from worrying about him.  All because that crazy. stubborn. lovable idiot had hated being a burden to him, Hutch sighed wearily.

The dark-skinned man had been upset to realize that he'd also failed to notice anything wrong with Hutch's better half.  Well, except maybe that the "dark-haired dynamo" hadn't been in for a "Starsky special" in quite a while.  But Huggy had just attributed that to Starsky continuing with the health food regimen that had been previously imposed by that "big, blond nurse o' his" in the aftermath of the Gunther shooting.

Torn between the overwhelming pride and love he felt upon discovering Starsky's selfless actions on his behalf, and the anger that threatened to erupt at any moment over his partner's selfish disregard for his own health!

No.no that wasn't right.  He was the one who was being selfish, Hutch thought, while accepting that he didn't feel any guilt about this particular brand of selfishness.  He freely admitted to his own selfish desire not to live in a world without Starsky in it.  He just couldn't imagine anyone else wanting such a fate either, after having been touched by David Michael Starsky--both inside and out.

Still reeling from the vastly conflicting emotional blows, and uncovered revelations, Hutch struggled desperately to get his scattered wits under some semblance of control.  Dwelling upon their feelings he realized wouldn't get any of them anywhere.  Firming his resolve, and sensing the matching determination of his fellow co-conspirators, he ventured to make a start at returning the discussion to their initial purpose for holding this meeting.

"So, what do we do now?" Hutch said suddenly, voicing the most important question for them all.
 

Part 12

Alex watched patiently, as the man before seated before her struggled to regain his composure, while blinking back the tears forming in the ice-blue eyes. Then listened as he continued, "He's slipping away from me--from us, more and more each day."

She nodded, patiently waiting for Hutch to continue.  Starsky had not been allowed visitors, except for family while he was in Intensive Care. And Alex would still have to wait until her patient was declared by the hospital staff to be in a more stable condition physically, before she would be allowed to make her own assessment of his current psychological condition.  But the delay did have at least one side benefit, in that the Medical Board would unable to convene until she could complete her report.

Allowing Ken Hutchinson to vent his frustrations aloud she reasoned would most likely be of more help to him, than having to listen to her own clinical observations.  And in the meantime, she would be gaining some unique insight and information about her patient from a friend that obviously cared for David a great deal.

Focusing her attention on David's partner Alex nodded, patiently waiting for him to continue speaking.

Hutch began to slowly describe the unusual complacency he'd begun observing lately in his partner's behavior--and his own fears that Starsky seemed to have just "given up".

"And I don't care what the doctors say!" the blond insisted, "It's not just the drugs making him act this way.  I've never seen him this depressed.  Something's wrong--" he stopped, trying to calm himself as he looked down and began to consciously unclench his fists.

'Something that I can't reach,' Hutch added to himself, bitterly frustrated. 'Something that I'm powerless to fight.'

He looked up again, as he felt his captain briefly grip his wrist, drawing his eyes up to witness the older man's supportive gaze resting on him. Hutch smiled wanly in acknowledgment, then took a calming breath before continuing.

He then turned back to Dr. Kellen, and began to express his concerns -- that even though the physical damage to Starsky had not been as bad this time, as the injuries that had initially placed his partner's career with the Police Department in jeopardy.Hutch now feared that the cumulative damage that had occurred over the years to his friend's normally strong and resilient psyche--might just prove to be too much for his partner to recover from.  Especially if, as they had just discussed, the possible conclusions of this next Medical Board led to Starsky being removed from the police force.  Hutch feared for his partner's ability to mentally recover from this latest shock, and that the bitter disappointment might prove to too much for his friend to bounce back from this time.

The blond tried not to shudder in horror, as he thought about just how long the list of  "collateral damages" to the psyche of his compassionate and heroic friend had grown:
The death of Starsky's fiance, Terry.
Simon Marcos, and his cult.
A planned hit at Vic Monte's favorite restaurant, gone wrong.
George Prudholm, and a not-so-innocent kid named Lonny.
James Marshall Gunther.

Hutch addressed his plea to Dr. Kellen as he choked out, "What can we do to help him, Doctor?"

The compassionate cat-green eyes rested on him a moment before the therapist finally spoke, stating to the distressed man firmly, "Ken, the first thing -- and only thing you can do right now for David, is to put yourself first."

She'd foregone her usual stringent hair-in-a-tight-bun style for this meeting, and she'd removed her glasses after having read the Medical Department's recommendations to them, wanting to put both men at ease. Therefore, her lovely auburn-hair moved freely, brushing her shoulders as she shook her head to cut off the blond man's expected protests.

"No, detective!" Alex raised her voice deliberately, to gain the stubborn man's attention.  Then having accomplished this, she suddenly smiled at him, throwing him even further off guard.

'Take a break from the 'White Knight' routine, blondie' " she said in a lighter tone, deliberately mimicking Starsky's voice and sarcastic phrasing, further stunning both men.  Then quickly added in a more serious tone, "You are *not* in control of Starsky's fate, and neither is he."
 

Part 13

Dr. Kellen observed the slight flush of pink that had begun to climb Hutch's pale and tired face. She couldn't allow this man to take refuge in feelings of guilt, or drown himself in helplessness.  Instinctively she sensed the reasons for this man's intolerance of pity or sympathy on his behalf. Determined as he was to feel that he neither deserved it (since he wasn't the one lying in a hospital bed) nor could he afford to give into any need for it.  In Hutch's mind, accepting sympathy (or even help for himself) when Starsky was in crisis must seem akin to surrendering.to giving up.

"David is the one lying in a hospital, but you're the one who's out here, bleeding to death!  Don't you think he knows that?"

An icy glare was Hutch's only response, but Dobey noticed that the good doctor hadn't even flinched under a gaze that would normally have had most hardened criminals cringing.

Alex was fully aware of this man's fierce protective instincts in regards to her patient, even to the detriment to his own health and well being. She had also picked up on the intense anger, as well as the guilt that Hutch often attempted to hide.  And she knew that if he continued to hide it, most of all from himself, that he would be of no good to either his friend or to himself.  Her own protective instincts had come to the fore on behalf of both men.and she became more determined than ever to do whatever she could for them.  Even if she had to risk gaining their enmity in order to confront (and hopefully, put a stop to) their
self-destructive behavior (even, on each other's behalf).

"You own captain discovered the "evidence", Detective" she glanced toward Dobey, satisfied to note the growing comprehension in the dark-brown eyes.  "Apparently, David began preparing for the possibility of a negative outcome to his upcoming Review Board long before this latest medical crisis."

Alex paused a moment, to allow the implications to sink in for both men before continuing. "He began doing everything he could to prepare you to continue without him, as your partner.  Everything that is but tell you about it directly--so that he could make plans in secret to prevent you from destroying your own life, by trying to fight a battle that he had apparently already accepted as lost.

"Now, maybe he held back because he was afraid that you wouldn't be willing to accept it--" She shook her head again, "Unwilling to accept it, not for your own sake, but for his!" she continued, cutting off Hutch's protests again.

Alex elaborated further with, "And somewhere along the line, it seems David became torn between not wanting to watch you bravely pretending that everything was "okay" for his benefit . and yet, not wanting to stop you from doing it, in case you needed to for your own peace of mind."

And Hutch did realize that Starsky knew. had always known of his need to be a "fixer".  That Hutch's own insecurities often drove him to strive for perfection in most things--and that somehow, this need had even extended into his friendship with Starsky.

For some reason, the gift that Starsky had given him along with his friendship, of never expecting perfection from Hutch, and just accepting him for who and what he was--it drove him even further to prove himself worthy of this man's unconditional love and respect.  Unfortunately, this had often led to an almost overwhelming sense of failure and guilt whenever he'd been unable to keep Starsky from harm.  Even when such incidents would have been impossible for anyone to predict or prevent from happening.

Captain Dobey sat back watching this woman, with awe and with more than just a little respect.  He also found himself thinking of a phrase he'd heard of once.about "De-nial" being a "River in Egypt".  Suddenly, he found himself imagining Kenneth Hutchinson traveling on that river, with a boat that Dr. Alex Kellen had just shot full of holes!

Others had often tried to strike a balance to the unrealistic expectations the blond detective often had of himself.  But it seemed
that only David Michael Starsky had the ability to break through the mile-high walls that Kenneth Hutchinson had built over the years.  And only when Starsky had been physically and/or mentally unable to provide this support were Dobey or Huggy permitted to peer over those walls, and perhaps provide some form of solace or support to Hutch until his partner finally recovered.

"Just like you.he's been so busy trying to figure out a way to help his partner, that he's forgotten to take care of himself.   And just like you, he's been diverting himself to keep from being overwhelmed by his own fears--his own lack of control, using his concern for you to ignore his own feelings."

"This ulcer of his was just the "finger in the dike" so-to-speak, that finally came loose from too much pressure."
 
 
 

TO BE CONTINUED
 

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