**********
The silence and the darkness hung between them like a cloud.
If Starsky hadn't heard Hutch breathing, he would have thought he was alone
in the car.
Starsky sat staring out into the dark street, his heart breaking. He'd screwed up royally this time. Fucked everything up so badly that there would never be any fixing it. It was over. Their friendship, the indefinable thing that had existed between them was dead and gone. It was only a matter of time before the partnership would be too.
And it was all his fault. No denying it. Not this time.
Five days since that night. The night when everything came to an end because he'd asked for something that he thought Hutch wanted too. Only to find out that all the signals were wrong. Or misread. Five days now with Hutch hating him. Maybe hate was too strong a word. Disillusioned, disappointed, disgusted were probably all more accurate. Now there would be no more comforting little pats on the stomach, no more casual arm across the shoulders. And definitely no more loving embraces exchanged between two friends. All because he'd asked for something that he had no right to ask for.
Glancing across the void between them, Starsky silently wished that Hutch had gotten mad at him, yelled at him. Struck him. Something, anything would be better than this silence that ate at his soul. Hutch's anger he could face, he'd faced it before. But not his rejection. Not this cold empty silence.
Starsky sighed to himself. If only he had kept his mouth shut. No - if he'd only kept his mouth to himself - he wouldn't have lost the only person that made his life bearable. His friend. But he'd stepped over the line, did the one thing that Hutch could never forgive and that was that.
He should never have kissed Hutch on the lips. Never.
Hutch moved on the seat, leaned forward, and stared intently at the
storefront they'd been staking out. "That's them Starsky. Let's
go."
Not waiting for Starsky, Hutch quietly opened the LTD's driver-side
door and got out. At least Hutch had said his name. That was
more than Starsky had usually received this last few days. Hutch
only talked to him if he had to, and then one or two words. If necessary,
he'd use short clipped sentences. But only if necessary.
Starsky, duty calling, crawled out after his partner. They'd been
on the trail of a trio of professional jewel thieves for over a month.
The day before they received a reliable tip that the gang was planning
to hit this upscale jewelry store that night. Hence the stakeout.
Hence the silent and lonely stakeout.
The partners separated to follow their normal pattern. He in back,
Hutch in front. It was while Starsky was climbing a fence to get
to the back door that the futility of it all struck him. Why were
they bothering, anyway? The store's insurance would cover the theft.
The robbers would get off on some kind of technicality or serve far less
time than they should. If they caught them, that was. Here
they were, risking their lives. For what? A few over-priced
trinkets?
He hesitated after he dropped to the other side of the fence.
Stood leaning against the worn, splintered surface as a wave of despair
washed over him. Then two shots rang out; neither of them sounding
like his partner's Magnum. Pushing himself away from the fence, he
ran for the backdoor. Hit it with his shoulder once then twice and
finally burst through, his heart pounding. Just as he hit the curtained
doorway to the main part of the shop, he heard the roar of Hutch's gun.
Relieved that his partner was still moving, he'd slowed down enough that
his mad dash became a controlled entrance.
Starsky dove for the shelter of a display case and tried to see around
the corner of it into the darkness of the store's showroom. Nothing
moved in the near blackness of that room. He and Hutch had walked
through it earlier that day. In silence. Taking careful note
of the layout. Where the display cases were, the position of the
workroom doorway, and other
And now they were cornered in this small shop by two determined detectives.
And the thieves were fighting for their lives.
Another gunshot sounded loud in the room and a bullet whistled by his
head. Starsky pulled back around the case, wondering how the gunman
had spotted him. And wondering where Hutch was. Starsky fired off a shot at the indistinct figure and grinned with vicious
satisfaction as the man screamed and fell. Light from a passing car
flooded the room for a brief moment long enough for Starsky to get a good
look at the man lying on the floor. "Hutch. They're wearing
night-vision goggles!" No wonder they didn't use lights while ripping
off the jewelry stores. They hadn't needed them.
A fumbling noise from Hutch's direction and suddenly the room was flooded
with light, momentarily blinding Starsky. Blinking, trying to see
through the tears in his eyes Starsky rolled to his feet and crouched,
waiting. A sudden flurry of movement to his right and Starsky whirled,
firing as he spotted the gun coming up at him. Another thief down.
One more to go.
Hutch's Magnum boomed again and Starsky dropped to one knee as he spun
around. There on the floor, not two feet away was the third man.
Hutch's bullet had caught the thief in the act of aiming his gun at Starsky's
head.
Shaking slightly, Starsky eased his gun back into its holster as he
noted Hutch gathering up the gun from the first thief Starsky had shot.
Starsky grabbed the gun from the one that Hutch had downed and checked
for a pulse. None. The Magnum didn't often leave survivors.
They both moved to pick up the third thief's gun and their hands touched
as they reached for the
For a brief moment, Starsky held his breath. This was the first
time they had touched since that night and the warmth of his partner's
skin flashed though him like a bolt of lightening. He looked up into
Hutch's eyes and his heart sank as he watched them turn away. Hutch
pulled his hand out from under Starsky's and moved to cuff the semi-conscious
man on the floor.
*****
Hours later, hours filled with the routine of the aftermath of a takedown,
Starsky was home. Alone. Hutch had dropped him off in front
of his apartment without a word. Not even good-bye. Starsky
knew that it was finally over. Tomorrow Hutch would walk into Dobey's
office and ask for a new partner. Or more likely, a transfer out
of the precinct. Starsky wouldn't be surprised if Hutch asked to
be sent as far away from him as he could get.
Starsky stood in the middle of his living room. He'd been taking
off his holster when the memory struck him of that night when his world
ended. On this very spot here in front of his couch. When he'd
turned towards the body standing beside him and gathered it into a kiss.
When he'd wrapped his arms around Hutch's slender waist and laid his lips
upon his partner's for the first - and last - time.
At first, Hutch had kissed back, probably surprised by the suddenness
of the whole thing. Hutch's arms had tightened around Starsky and
he'd kissed back with an equal amount of heat. Accepted the tongue
that stole its way into his mouth. Responded with a passion that
had overwhelmed Starsky. Finally, here in his arms was the man he'd loved
for so long, kissing him. Starsky's heart was beating so hard in joy that
he at first didn't understand when Hutch pulled away.
Starsky, who had been experiencing the passion of the moment with his
eyes shut, opened them to a nightmare. Hutch was slowly backing away,
his face frozen in what Starsky could only interpret as terror. When
Starsky stepped towards him, hand reaching out, Hutch lifted up his own
hand in a warding gesture.
Head shaking in a silent no, Hutch backed towards the door. Feeling
for the knob with his hand, he'd stood there for a moment, staring at Starsky.
"I...don't...I...." His voice betrayed him as he stuttered.
Hutch swallowed and almost spat out the next words. "Stay away from
me, Starsky. Just - stay - there." And he opened the door and
left.
Those had been the last voluntary words Hutch spoke to him. The
next morning Starsky had tried to talk to him. Tried to rescue something,
but Hutch had turned away again. "I have to think things through,
Starsky. I have to figure out what to do." Starsky tried several
times that first day to get Hutch to talk to him, to work it out.
But each time the silence was deeper, darker until it was all that remained.
And now, standing in his apartment, his gun held loosely in his hand,
Starsky didn't care anymore. Life didn't have any meaning if he didn't
have Hutch's friendship in it and that was gone. What did he have
left that Hutch wasn't a part of? The biggest part of. His
job only mattered if he could share it with Hutch. His friends were
Hutch's friends. His life was Hutch's life. And now none of
it mattered. Without Hutch, nothing mattered at all.
He was so tired. Tired of all of this. He hadn't slept more
than a few hours since that night. Not been able to eat, to rest,
to think. And now, unable to feel anything but emptiness. The
emptiness where Hutch used to be.
Leaving the holster where it lay on the floor, Starsky walked into his
bedroom and shut the door behind him. He turned on the radio beside
the bed and found the station that played classical music. Music
that Hutch had taught him how to love. Leaving the radio playing
low, Starsky kicked off his shoes and sat down on the bed.
Looking down at the gun he held in his hand, he thought back over the
years of all the times he'd fired it in defense of his partner. Once
even to protect Hutch knowing that pulling the trigger would mean the end
of his own life. A life that wasn't worth living if Hutch wasn't
there to share it.
Sighing, Starsky looked around his room. Looked at the pictures
on his bureau. One of his mom and dad, taken just months before his
father's death. Another of him and his little brother Nick one summer
eons ago. There was a picture in a pewter frame of Terry. His Terry
that he'd loved so well. And one of Hutch and him not long after
they became partners. Hutch and him grinning into the camera, arms flung
around each other's shoulders. Back in the days when they were proud
of what they were, determined to be the best damn detectives the city had
ever seen. Innocent and naļve of what the partnership would
bring them. And of what it would take away.
Turning off the light, Starsky sat back against the headboard and thought
about all the years of that partnership. All the years of caring,
protecting each other. Loving each other. Now ashes.
Gone in one brief minute of misplaced desire.
He lay the gun on his chest, covering it with both hands. The
metal of the barrel cold against his skin where the shirt parted just below
his throat. The grip hard beneath his hand, trigger harder still under
his finger. Starsky closed his eyes and lost himself in the quiet, peaceful
music drifting through the room. Lost himself to the daydream that
his partner still loved him, still wanted to be with him. Might even
want to be loved by him.
The explosion of the gunshot was loud in the dark. And the silence.
*************
Hutch stood in the doorway of his partner's bedroom and tried to breathe.
He had taken far too long to make a decision, to work things through.
During the stakeout, he'd felt Starsky's presence in the car like a weight
on his body. He knew he wasn't being fair. That he was in fact
being cruel to his partner but somehow he couldn't bring himself to face
the truth. It wasn't until he saw the thief stand up behind Starsky
and aim the gun at his head that Hutch knew what that truth was.
Or allowed himself to know.
He loved Starsky. Loved him with everything he had. With
his heart, his mind, his soul. And his body. Wanted to do things
to him that he had never, ever, thought of in his entire life. He'd
still been overwhelmed by that realization when their hands had touched
and he felt as if he'd grabbed a live wire. Not being able to look
at Starsky at that moment, afraid he'd give into the temptation and pull
his partner into another kiss like the one that had started this he'd turned
away. And Starsky had turned away too.
They barely spoke two words to each other for the rest of the shift.
The silence ebbed and flowed between them like a live thing on the way
back to Starsky's place. All the way there, Hutch had waited for
Starsky to say something, to give him some signal. But Starsky was
silent. When they arrived at the apartment, Starsky had simply opened
the car door and got out. He hadn't even said good-bye as he shut
the door, although he had paused for a brief moment. But Hutch couldn't
find the words and then the moment was gone. Starsky turned and walked
up the stairs to his place and never looked back.
Hutch drove away.
But as the miles between his place and Starsky's passed, he thought.
And thought hard. Came to the realization that he was the one who
needed to speak first, as he'd been the one to pull away. Starsky
had tried to talk to him and he'd shut him out. Played the scandalized
innocent to Starsky's lecherous lover. Roles neither of them quite
fit.
Berating himself for being a dozen kinds of fool, Hutch did a U-turn
in the middle of the street. Driving as fast as his old car would
let him, he made the journey back to Starsky's. A journey that he'd
never thought he'd make but one he knew he had to.
He loved Starsky. Loved his friend, his partner and he needed
to tell him that now. Tonight. Hutch couldn't allow this silence
to remain another moment longer. Too much depended on it.
Pulling up to the end of the driveway, he parked behind the Torino and
dashed up the stairs. Just as he stepped up onto the landing, he
saw the light go off in the bedroom. Not wanting to wait for Starsky
to answer the door, Hutch pulled out his set of keys and unlocked the door.
Sure-footed in the dark, he hurried towards the bedroom, anxious to tell
his partner, his love, that he'd finally found the truth. And his
voice.
Speaking Starsky's name, he pushed open the bedroom door. The
crack of the Beretta was deafening in the hushed apartment.
Shaking, Hutch flicked on the overhead light and stared in horror at
the figure lying so still on the bed. Starsky lay there, bare-footed,
his gun still clenched in one hand. Blue eyes staring blindly at
Hutch.
Then Starsky blinked and turned his head to look at the wall beside
his bed. The wall that was sporting a nice round bullet hole.
Starsky stared at the hole, fear drifting across his face. Then he
turned back to stare at Hutch.
Hutch leaned against the doorframe; sides heaving as if he'd just ran
a marathon. Mind trying to deny what had just happened. What
had almost happened. Two long strides and Hutch was beside the bed.
Reaching down with a shaking hand, he snatched the gun out of Starsky's
lax grip. Pulled out the clip, ejected the bullet in the chamber
and dropped all of it on the floor.
A shudder ran through the body on the bed and Starsky rolled over, back
to Hutch. Curling into a ball, he lay there shaking. Hutch
laid his hand on the huddled shoulder and felt sadness when it flinched
under his touch. "Go away Hutch. Leave me alone." The words
were hesitant, mumbled in a quiet pained voice.
Suddenly Hutch was angry. Angry with Starsky for what he'd almost
done. Angry with himself for pushing his partner to the point that he'd
tried it. Grasping the shoulder harder, he pulled, forcing Starsky
to turn towards him. "I'm not leaving you alone to kill yourself
you idiot. What the hell did you think you were doing?" Fury
made his words uglier than he intended. And only made Starsky fold
up further into himself.
Getting a grip on his emotions, Hutch knelt beside the bed and laid
his arm across Starsky's body. Hand resting on the tense back, Hutch
leaned forward until his face was inches from Starsky's. "Please
Starsk. Don't do this to yourself. To me."
Eyes clenched shut, Starsky pushed his face into the pillow beneath
his head. "I don't care anymore. You're gone and nothing matters.
Leave me alone."
"Starsky, I'm right here. I've not gone anywhere. Please
Starsk, look at me." Hutch rubbed little circles on his partner's
back trying to relay all the love and fear in him.
"It doesn't matter. You're leaving me. You left me.
Now go away and let me do what I have to." Each word so full of despair
and loss that they felt like knives in Hutch's heart. Hutch climbed
up on the bed and manhandled Starsky into his lap. Frightened that
the man in his arms didn't even try to fight the rough handling.
He pulled at Starsky until his curly hair brushed Hutch's chin and Starsky's
cheek rested against his chest.
"Starsky, listen to me. I haven't left you. I'm so sorry
that I've been such an unthinking fool. I love you. I always
have. I just never realized how much." Hutch kept up the low
murmurs of reassurance praying that they would get through. In despair,
he rocked the limp body in his lap, willing Starsky to leave wherever it
was that he'd disappeared. To come back to him.
It felt as if hours had passed when he realized that Starsky had fallen
asleep. Nestled against him, one hand clenched between them, the
other laying palm up on the rumpled bedspread, as sound asleep as a child.
Hutch sighed in relief knowing that one crisis had past, that Starsky wouldn't
have fallen asleep this way if he were still in the throes of despondency.
Hutch eased Starsky onto the bed. Searched out the spare blankets
and covered the somnolent body with one. Picking up Starsky's gun
from the floor, he carried it into the other room and searched for a good
hiding place. Hutch, deciding that Starsky would never think to look
in the back of the bottom cupboard behind the pots and pans, stashed both
the Beretta
Returning to the bedroom Hutch turned off the overhead light and turned
on the bedside one. Then he just stood and watched Starsky sleep.
And allowed himself to give in to the agony that he had been holding back
since he heard the gunshot. Crawling up onto the bed, Hutch gathered Starsky into his arms.
Blanket and all. Held him tight against him hoping to transmit the
love, the caring he felt into the still body. Trying to bring his
Starsky back from the edge he'd driven him to. Closing his eyes,
Hutch buried his face in the soft curls and held on. And fell asleep
with unshed tears in his eyes.
**********
Starsky drifted for awhile, warm and content. Satisfied just to
stay in the world between sleeping and waking. Here he was loved.
Here he was safe. Here Hutch still belonged to him, still cared about
him.
Then, slowly like a worm working through an apple, the silence returned.
The darkness returned. The aloneness returned.
Here there was no love. No safety. No Hutch. All of
it, every bit of his life was gone. Because Hutch didn't love him
anymore. He groaned with the sorrow of it.
A movement beside him, a tightening around him, brought him fully awake.
He opened his eyes to find himself looking into frightened blue ones inches
away from him. Starsky blinked in dazed disbelief. "Hutch?"
"I'm here partner. And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever
again." Hutch's voice shook with emotion. He brought his hand
up and stroked Starsky's cheek. Starsky leaned into that gesture
for a moment, trying to absorb the warmth from that touch. Then Hutch's
face came closer, so near that Starsky had to close his eyes to keep from
going cross-eyed.
And then Hutch's lips were against his, soft and gentle. Starsky
held back for a moment, stunned by the shock of it. But Hutch pressed
harder, more insistent until Starsky gasped and returned the heat of that
kiss. Wanting to touch Hutch with more than his lips, Starsky tried
to lift his arms and couldn't. He pulled away from Hutch frightened
for a moment as memory flooded back. For that moment, he was back
in that dark and silent place.
The gunshot. Had he.... Had he done something to himself
and simply couldn't remember it?
Then Hutch was there, light in the darkness. Words of love breaking
the silence. Hands rubbing against his arms, reassuring him.
"It's okay Starsk. You're all wrapped up in this blanket.
Just hold still for a minute." Hutch pushed Starsky onto his back
and pulled the blanket loose. He was free to move, to wrap his arms
around the man hovering over him. Free to pull Hutch, his Hutch into
another kiss.
They lay like that for a time holding each other. Reacquainting
each with the other. With themselves. Content for now not to
question. Not to doubt. To simply be.
*********
It was Hutch who finally broached the silence that lay over them like
a warm quilt. Spoke the question that he should have been asked all
those days ago.
"Starsky what does this mean?"
Starsky lay with his arms flat on the bed, one knee slightly bent and
his eyes closed. Trying to remember how to breathe. Happy down
to his core - outward to his skin. The same skin that was being gently
stroked by his partner. "Huh?"
"What does this mean?" Hutch sighed in mock aggravation, his breath
warm against Starsky's stomach. "What does what we just did mean?"
Grinning to himself, Starsky ran a hand through the silken blond hair
spread across his chest. Patted Hutch's head gently. "It means
that we love each other. Means that we've just discovered a whole
new way of proving it. That's all."
Hutch continued drawing little designs with his fingertips across Starsky's
hipbones. Watched in amused delight the way his partner's skin twitched.
"Oh. That's what I thought." They lay quietly for a bit and
then Hutch knew he had to say one last thing.
Rising up on his elbows, Hutch gazed down into the dark blue ones beneath
him. "I'm sorry Starsky that I was such an idiot. I never meant
to hurt you like that. If I'd have...." Hutch swallowed and
laid his forehead down on Starsky's shoulder. "If I'd have known
that my stupid pride would drive you to wanting to kill yourself....
Oh God Starsk, when I think how close that was."
Struggling for control, Hutch lifted his head again to search his partner's
eyes. "I was trying to come to terms with how that kiss made me feel.
I was so scared of what I was feeling that I pulled away from you when
I should have reached out instead. Then it just got easier not to
say anything. I should never have shut you out. Will you ever
forgive me?"
Starsky smiled gently up at him and snaked a warm arm around Hutch's
neck. "Of course I forgive you. If you'll forgive me for doubting
you. I should of known you were scared. Hell, I probably knew
you were scared 'cause I sure was. When I kissed you like that, it
was if the whole world stood up and shook itself." Starsky pulled
Hutch down into a kiss to demonstrate.
Hutch stroked Starsky's cheek with a trembling finger. "Always
and forever, Starsk. Just like I love you. Always and forever."
And he sealed that promise with a kiss that left no doubts in Starsky's
mind. No doubts at all.
**********
And in silence, all can be found.
points of necessary interest. They knew that the thieves always
worked without light, or as little as possible. They knew that they
were good at getting in and out without allowing themselves to be seen
as more than vague images on the security cameras. The trio were
very good at what they did.
weapon.
Starsky picked up the weapon and straightened. His stomach hurting
as he walked to the phone sitting on the little ornate desk in the corner.
His throat choking him as he talked to the dispatcher and ordered the crime
scene team and coroner's wagon. His head aching as he tried to keep
from gasping with the agony of that final rejection. Starsky's entire
body shaking inside as it tried to absorb the dying of his spirit.
and his Magnum there. No need to take chances. As an extra
precaution, Hutch balanced a couple of pots so they would fall out on the
floor and alert him if Starsky went searching.
Releasing him, Starsky grinned. "Yeah, just like that.
I should have kept after you. Made you talk to me. Yelled at
me if ya wanted. I'm as much at fault as anyone. Forgive me?"