Title: Lost Connection

Author: Susan Proto

Fandom: Starsky & Hutch, of course!

Pairing: Starsky and Hutch (**see note)

Rating: PG-13 for language

Status: New/Complete

Archive: Yes

Feedback: Absolutely! It's gratefully accepted at: STPteach@aol.com

Critique: Accolades, yes! <G> Constructive thoughts, yes! Flames, no!

(One of these days I'll get these all connected...<sigh>)

Disclaimers: No, sadly the characters do not belong to me, and I am not making any kind of a profit from this story other than the satisfaction of getting to play with them for a little bit. Though the good doctor and nurse are mine, Starsky & Hutch, as well as Dobey, Huggy, and Minnie belong to Spelling/Goldberg productions.

Notes: I've always seen the friendship between the two as one of deep and abiding loyalty. It is also the only 'buddy' show relationship that I've ever considered possibly going beyond platonic. So, I leave the reader with my ambivalent feelings on the matter as well...and encourage the readers to decide for themselves. (There are no graphic scenes whatsoever.)

Summary: Starsky is worried about where the partnership is headed due to Hutch suddenly acting very strangely. The results of this sudden change could prove the partnership's undoing.

Warnings: Angst, Trauma; slight references to episodes, Starsky Vs. Hutch and Starsky's Lady.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lost Connection

By Susan Proto

He'd noticed the change but wasn't sure of the 'why' - he'd figured out the 'when' easily enough though.

It started almost four weeks ago. Hutch had finally given into the idea that all of his vitamins and kelp shakes were no armor against the nasty flu bug he'd caught. He'd finally dragged himself into the Los Angeles Medical Center's ER clinic to get checked out. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything the doc could do for him. Given that the flu is a virus, there was no point in prescribing antibiotics; they only had an effect on bacterial infections. So, the doc had informed Hutch that he'd just have to let the virus run its course. She'd sent him with the advice to 'get plenty of rest, drink plenty of fluids, and get plenty of rest'.

At least that's the way he'd worded it to his partner. Starsky had taken the hint and after he'd dropped off a ten day supply of chicken soup, orange and grapefruit juice, and some paperbacks he thought Hutch might enjoy reading once he was feeling up to it, Starsky kept his distance so his partner would rest.

Of course, the last three days or so that Hutch had been on sick leave, Starsky had been too. Damn flu bug bit Starsky hard, and he, too, became bedridden.

Hutch had called a couple of times - quick calls to make sure he was hanging in there - but he hadn't stopped by at all. That job had fallen to Huggy; he'd taken on the Florence Nightingale role and had brought Starsky everything he'd need to recuperate from the flu. Though Starsky, always the more social of the two when ill, had felt a little disappointed that his partner had chosen to stay away, he'd accepted Hutch's explanation that he didn't want to take a chance on relapsing. Hutch had gone on to say that since he wasn't feeling a hundred percent yet, even his doc had advised him to keep his distance.

At the time, Starsky thought that made sense. What didn't make sense was Hutch's reticence toward hanging out together once Starsky had returned to active duty. Sure, he'd still been a bit 'washed-out' as his mom used to call it, but all he'd needed was a couple of more days to get his sea legs back.

Now it was a week later, he was back to full strength, and Starsky felt like he was still getting the runaround from his partner. Every time he proposed they get together after work for dinner or some pool at Huggy's, Hutch blew off the suggestion. Something else bugged Starsky.

Hutch insisted on taking separate cars to work; carpooling became a thing of the past, too.

When Starsky gave it some serious thought, he realized that things were a little cool between them at the station as well. It wasn't as if they avoided each other completely, they had regular dialogues about work-related issues. There just wasn't the same, usual banter between them; the camaraderie was missing...their connection seemed almost lost.

Starsky could remember only one other time when they'd seemed that at odds with one another, and he'd vowed that he would never let anyone or anything get between them again. He wanted to talk to Hutch and get the problem out in the open, but every time he broached the subject, Hutch brushed him off.

Didn't keep Starsky from trying though.

"Did I do something to make you mad, Hutch?" he asked seemingly out of the blue. He sat across from his partner at his desk with a stack of files in front of him, while his partner mirrored him.

"Mad?" Hutch looked uncomfortable, but he said no more.

"Yeah, mad. I mean, you're acting really strange, even for you, Blintz," he added with a small smile.

Hutch did not respond in kind, however. In fact, all he would say in response was, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Hutch. You're acting colder than a brewsky on tap lately. Just tell me what I've done to deserve the big brush-off so I know how to fix it," he said in a tone that though whispered, was filled with conviction that he knew what he was talking about.

Hutch reacted in the same manner as he had all week long. Denial. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Starsky. Just because I choose not to spend every waking minute with you doesn't mean you did anything wrong. Nor does it mean I'm doing anything wrong either, understand? I'm not mad. Don't flatter yourself; my world doesn't revolve around you a hundred percent of the time, partner. I'm sorry if that doesn't meet with your approval. Now if you don't mind, I want to get these damned reports done so I can go home."

The discussion was over. Starsky felt as if he'd been sucker-punched, but he kept it to himself. Obviously something was bothering Hutch, but he just didn't feel comfortable sharing it yet. Starsky figured he'd just have to be patient, though he knew it would be hard. It was always hard for Starsky when his partner was hurting over something. There was a time when the feeling was mutual; it was a little hard for Starsky to believe that was the case at the moment.

"Starsky! Get in here," commanded their captain from his office door.

Starsky looked across at his partner, but Hutch never picked his head up from the report he was working on. Starsky's expression that declared, 'I didn't do anything' was completely wasted on his sidekick. He stood up and walked into his superior's office.

"Yeah, Cap? Whatever it is, it wasn't my fault," he announced in a preemptive strike.

Dobey held back the smile he felt about to form on his lips. Starsky would think that. "Yeah, well this time it is your fault." Seeing his underling's surprised expression, he decided to put the poor guy out of his misery. "You forgot to sign the damn medical forms that released you from sick leave."

"Oh." He smiled at that; he knew he hadn't done anything wrong. Well, at least not lately. "Sure, gimme the form and I'll sign it. Anything else, Cap?"

As Starsky wrote his name on the multiple copies of the form, Dobey decided to take the opportunity to ask the young man something that had been bothering him the last few days. He wasn't sure how to pose the question; he might be totally off base, but when it came to that particular partnership, Dobey knew that he usually read the situation right.

"Listen, um, there is one other thing." Dobey paused momentarily until he was sure he got the other man's full attention. "What the hell is going on with you and Hutchinson?" he blurted.

Starsky's expression changed from the relief he'd been feeling over the minor problem with his signature to one of frustration. "You've seen it, too?" Dobey nodded. "I dunno, Cap. Seems like ever since he got sick, he's wanted -."

Dobey prodded the detective. "Wanted what, Starsky?" he asked softly.

"Wanted nothing to do with me," he said, voicing his worst fear.

The captain carefully considered what Starsky said and then asked the obvious. "Well, what did you do?"

Starsky laughed, though there was no joy in it. "That's just it - according to Hutch, I've done nothing. According to Hutch, there ain't even anything wrong. Nada, zilch, bupkus!" he finished in a flourish of exasperation.

"Well," Dobey said, "what ever the hell it was that you *didn't* do, I strongly suggest that you *fix* it, P/D/Q! I can't have my two best detectives not on the same playing field!"

Starsky nodded. He agreed with Dobey. There must have been something that he did to cause Hutch's attitude to change toward him so radically. He was determined to find out exactly what it was. He left the captain's office with a new resolve and called out, "Now listen, Hutch! We have got to talk this out."

"He's gone."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, David, but he's gone," explained Minnie. "He left almost ten minutes ago."

"He just left?" Starsky barely said aloud. He walked over to his desk and searched its top for some kind of note, some indication that his partner of many years had chosen not to ignore the common courtesy of saying good-bye. But there was nothing on his desk, and the only thing on Hutch's was a neatly stacked pile of files tucked in his out box.

"Damn it," Starsky whispered, "What the hell is going on?"

Minnie shook her head sadly - everyone had noticed the change in her two favorite detectives' relationship. "Good night, David," she said and offered him a sympathetic smile.

"G'night, Minnie. See ya tomorrow, 'shweetheart'," he responded in an attempt to lighten the mood, though he was hardly successful.

Before he left the station, Starsky tried phoning Hutch at home. There was no answer, which given the way things had been going, didn't surprise Starsky in the least. He decided to swing by the Venice apartment in case Hutch wasn't answering his phone. He didn't see the junk heap Hutch called a car anywhere nearby, but that didn't mean much since the thing was always breaking down. Starsky thought he might find his partner at home anyway, and decided to take the chance and surprise him.

He climbed the steps and knocked loudly on the door of Hutch's apartment. He tried calling out, "Hutch! C'mon, Hutch. Open up, we gotta talk." When he received no reply, Starsky reached up for the key that was always kept above the door jam. Always, until that moment apparently. The key was missing, and Starsky couldn't help but put two and two together.

It was becoming more and more apparent to Starsky that Hutch was pulling out all of the stops to distance himself. Starsky just wished he knew the reason behind it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning saw a stiff-legged, stiff-backed, and stiff-necked Starsky arrive to work. As he slowly made his way into the office, he could hear a couple of murmurs reach his ears about 'wild nights'. Starsky could only laugh sardonically at that thought.

He'd slept in the Torino all night while waiting for Hutch to return home. Starsky was determined to hash it out with his partner, even it was at three in the morning. Unfortunately, Hutch foiled his plan. He never came home.

Hutch was at his desk when Starsky finally appeared, looking like something the cat dragged in. "You look like crap. What did ya do? Sleep in those clothes?"

"Yeah, partner, as a matter of fact, I did. In my car. Waiting for you. To come home. Which you never did." Starsky was tired and cranky and angrier than ever with his partner for keeping him in the dark as to what the hell was going on between them, which is why his tone became nastier and more mean-spirited than it had been in a long time. "So, buddy, oh pal, oh partner of mine? Did ya get some last night? Must have been a great fuck to keep you out all night!"

Hutch jumped out of his seat at hearing the words and the tone. "You've got some nerve! Why would you say something like that?" he demanded angrily.

"I wanted to talk with you, Hutch. We gotta figure out what's going on with us, so I tried calling you last night, after you just upped and left without so much as saying goodbye."

"Damn it, Starsky, you were in with Dobey. How the hell was I supposed to know how long he was going to ream your ass?" he asked with some hint of malice.

"There was a time my partner would have been at my side defending me if I were being reamed," Starsky responded, though more quietly than before.

"Look, I'm sorry I obviously insulted you by not saying goodbye," Hutch replied. He was a little shaken by his partner's words; he realized there was some truth to them. "I was expected somewhere. I had to leave."

"Yeah, well, when ya didn't leave a note, or answer your phone, I figured I'd go to your apartment and see if I could catch up with you there. Thought maybe you were purposely not answering the phone...thought maybe you were avoiding my call," Starsky added softly.

"Well, I wasn't home, Starsky. Jeeze..."

"Yeah, I know. I knocked and realized that when you didn't answer, so I figured I'd let myself into the apartment to wait for you. We have to talk, Hutch. But the key was gone. You fucking took the key away."

"Look, I took it off the door 'cause there'd been some malicious mischief going on in the neighborhood. I just didn't want to give anyone free access, ya know?"

"No, I didn't know. You never told me. So I ended up sleeping in my car outside of your apartment waiting for you to turn up. Only, you never came home."

"Oh, please do not tell me you were watching my apartment all night."

"We have to talk, Hutch."

"Geeze, ya know," began Hutch in anger, "some people would call that stalking!"

"St- Stalking?" Starsky sputtered. "How 'bout some might consider it a friend being concerned over another friend's sudden change in personality and disposition! For crying out loud, Hutch! What's going on here? I haven't felt this disconnected from you since - since, Kira."

Hutch's expression changed momentarily, and then suddenly, Hutch felt angry. "That's bullshit, and you know it, Starksy!" he argued, loudly. Starsky's words caught him off guard and obviously hit a target, but before anymore could be said, Dobey's voice reverberated throughout the squad.

"Knock it off you two and get the hell in here. NOW." The anger was apparent on Dobey's face and brooked no argument from the two detectives.

"Cap," Starsky began. He was ready to apologize. He knew he was baiting his partner and also knew that it was neither the time nor the place to do so. It was unprofessional and inappropriate, and he was fully prepared to make an apology to both of them.

"Save it, Starsky, for someone who cares." Captain Dobey's eyes narrowed as he looked at the two men in front of him. Dobey was pissed off, that much was obvious. The question was whether there was something going down other than the apparent disintegration of their partnership that had the man enraged.

"I don't have time for both of you and the crap you're carrying around. I told you to fix it," he said looking directly at Starsky, "and not to carry it into this house. Now, we have some police business to take care of. Are you two prepared to act like cops, or should I get someone else in here who can?"

Obviously there was something big going down. Starsky looked at Hutch, but his partner did not return it. He chose instead to keep his gaze on the captain. This wasn't good, and Starsky was worried.

No, that wasn't it. For the first time, he realized that he was scared.

Something was wrong, and Starsky couldn't help but wonder if it would be a mistake for the duo to go out on a call together. He was about to express those concerns when the captain began explaining the situation.

"There's a hostage situation going down at Jacoby's Jewelry Exchange on Almeida and Fifth. They need some extra manpower over there ASAP."

"Cap, but we're homicide detectives," Hutch began.

"The security guard was shot and killed. We want to make sure there aren't any other reasons for you two to investigate," Dobey chastised.

"Yes, sir," responded Hutch. "Let's go." Not waiting to be dismissed, Hutch turned on his heel and left the office. He'd never even looked at his partner.

Starsky shuddered slightly and then looked toward his captain who was already getting his nose into the matters waiting on his desk. The detective couldn't help but wonder if Dobey even noticed the lack of camaraderie between himself and Hutch.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" asked Dobey, glancing at him peripherally. "Your partner is probably halfway there already."

"That's what I'm afraid of...." Starsky muttered barely to himself. Finally, he caught Dobey's gaze. "Cap?" He hesitated. Maybe he was imagining it. He had to be imagining it.

"What is it, Starsky?" The captain now gave his detective his full attention.

"I don't know what's going on. I mean with Hutch and me. I think, maybe we shouldn't - I mean I don't know if we...." Starsky stopped and then abruptly said, "It's nothing, Cap. I better go catch up with my partner." Starsky left, also not waiting to be dismissed by his captain.

For some reason, this time the captain noticed and felt uneasy. Unfortunately, he didn't know what to do about it; there was a hostage situation to take care of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two arrived in the Torino without a word spoken between them. Starsky felt like he drove himself to the scene for all the attention Hutch paid him. Though he tried to open the lines of communication, Hutch either cut him off or chose to ignore him. Starsky wanted to talk, to apologize and clear the air between them before they involved themselves in the situation at the scene, but Hutch would have none of it. As soon as the car stopped he got out of the car and strode immediately to the hostage team director. Starsky quickly followed.

"So, Jenkins," acknowledged Hutch when he recognized the officer in charge, "what's going on?"

"Hutchinson, Starsky. About damn time you two showed up. I called in for you twenty minutes ago," he replied.

"Sorry, we got here as soon as we could," answered Hutch. "Now, where do you want me?"

Though Jenkins apparently didn't notice Hutch's use of that particular pronoun, it certainly didn't escape the attention of Starsky. He quickly interjected, "Yeah, where do you want *us*?"

"I want you to take the back with my guys. There's an exit that I've got some of my men covering from the roof, but no one's on the ground."

"Sure," agreed Hutch and he took off.

"Damn it, Hutch," Starsky muttered, "wait up."

The two men moved quietly to the back, each looking carefully around them to be sure that no one who wasn't supposed to see them did. When they got to the back they each managed to make eye contact with the officers above them. Next, Hutch indicated to them that he was going to move up closer to the exit. He started creeping toward the doorway, with his partner following him and watching his back.

Starsky tried several times to get Hutch's attention so they could better coordinate their positions, but Hutch never looked his way. Suddenly, without any warning, Hutch jumped up onto the fire escape that was adjacent to the doorway. Starsky looked on, dumbfounded, wondering what the hell was going on in his partner's mind.

While he tried to make sense of his jumbled thoughts, Starsky's eyes kept looking upward to follow Hutch's progress. The window two floors above the exit opened, and Starsky saw a glimmer of metal peek out. Shit, he thought. "Hutch!" he called out as he pulled out his gun and fired toward the window.

A second shot rang out almost immediately and at the same time Starsky observed Hutch flinch slightly on the fire escape, he heard footsteps approach him from behind. Starsky kept his eyes pinned on Hutch; he may have been annoyed as hell with him at that moment for pulling this bonehead stunt, but he was still his partner and backup. He wondered momentarily if Hutch was of the same mind with regards to him and then quickly tried to erase all doubts from his mind. That was Hutch. His partner and best friend.

The footsteps got louder as they got closer and Starsky figured it was one of the cops they'd checked in with earlier coming over to find out what the hell was going down. Starsky wanted nothing more than to figure that one out too.

Only problem was, it wasn't their backup. The footsteps stopped, and only moments later Starsky felt the force of a two-by-four meet the back of his head. The strength of the hit propelled Starsky forward without giving him time to prepare and protect his face. His gun had flown out of his hands and his face met the gravel straight on. His attacker swung the wooden weapon one more time for good measure, making sure that he left its mark with a crack to Starsky's skull.

Meanwhile, Hutch was trying to climb up to the roof as quickly as he could to escape any more shots fired. He'd heard the first one and felt the impact of the second. Though he was just winged in the shoulder, it still hurt like hell.

Just as Hutch made it to the roof, there was some more gunfire and a good deal of shouting afterwards. Hutch found the nearest SWAT sniper and asked what was going on.

"We got them. One was caught alive outside, while the other one was shot through the window."

"So, it's over?" asked Hutch never asking for the details of the shoot.

"Yeah, it's over. You should probably go over to one of the paramedics and get that looked at."

Hutch nodded. His shoulder hurt like a bitch, so he walked over to the roof's stairway, which led down to the ground floor. Meanwhile and unbeknownst to Hutch, his partner was being lifted onto a gurney to be rushed over to the Los Angeles Medical Center.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Starsky was quickly brought into Treatment Room 2 and divested of his clothing. A Foley catheter was immediately inserted and they drew blood for typing and matching. The doctor put in orders for X-rays, a full skull series as well as a number of blood tests.

"What are his vitals, Karen?" asked Dr. Sandra Payton.

"BP is 140 over 90. Respiration is 10," replied the nurse.

"His pupils are unequal and reactive," said Payton. "He's gotta have some bleeders," she muttered. "Damn, Karen. What the hell happened to this guy?" she asked as she observed his injuries more closely.

"He was involved in a robbery or something," answered the nurse.

"Who did he rob?" asked the doctor.

"No, no, he didn't rob anyone. He's one of the good guys, a cop."

"Do we have a name and what precinct he's from?"

"Yeah, this one's a repeater," Karen answered. "Starsky. David Starsky, and he's with Bay City." The nurse reached into the pocket of Starsky's jeans and pulled out his ID badge for confirmation. "You haven't been here long enough to know Detective Starsky has had a bit of a history with us. He and that partner of his, both." Karen did not elaborate, and Dr. Payton did not ask her to.

"David Starsky. David Starsky, can you hear me? Answer me if you can hear me," commanded the doctor.

"Huh..." was the verbal response.

"Good, that's good, David. Come on, a little more. Try a little bit harder. Wake up, now. You have to tell us where it hurts."

"Huh...." Starsky began to smack his lips as if he were dry-mouthed.

"Can you open your eyes for me, David. I need to check your eyes," urged Dr. Payton.

Slowly, Starsky responded.

"Ahh, now those were worth waiting for, David," Dr. Payton said gently as she once again checked his blue eyes for a reaction. "Okay, David, you're doing great. Now, where does it hurt?"

"Huh-" he uttered again. Starsky then closed his eyes and tried to clear the fog from them. He needed to find out if Hutch was okay, but he knew he wasn't going to get any answers to his questions until he answered the doctor's.

Slowly he opened his eyes again, and slurred, "My hea' fee's li'e i's gonna e'splode."

"I bet it does; you took quite a whack to the back of it earlier. Do you remember what happened, David?"

"Bad guy gonna get Hush, so I got da bad guy. Don' know wha' happen' ne't."

"Well, I guess someone decided to get you. Do you know what today is?" she asked, deciding to do a quick neuro check while the opportunity presented itself.

"Um, T'ursday? Maybe We'zday. Dunno."

"That's okay, David, can you tell me your full name?"

"Yeah. Da'bid Michael S'arsky."

"Close enough, David. And where do you work?"

"Bay. Zity. Police. 'Tation." Starsky's breathing was becoming more labored and his speech became more halting.

"I know someone who works there, too," said the doctor said casually but then turned to her ER nurse. "Karen, run these up to the lab. I don't like his breath sounds and I need you to wait for the results."

"Sure, Dr. Payton. Hang in there Detective Starsky. Dr. Payton is one of the best!" offered Karen in comfort before she left for the lab.

As the doctor continued her physical check-up, she spoke idle chatter to keep the patient conscious and as alert as possible. She also hoped to take his mind off of the prodding, probing, and obvious pain he was in.

"So, I was telling you that I knew an officer out of Bay City. His name is Ken. Ken Hutchinson. We've been going out for the last few weeks. Very, very nice guy. Do you know him?"

Starsky's breathing became instantly more labored. His respiration were suddenly thready and his blood pressure began to climb even higher. "David? David, what is it? Are you okay?" Dr. Payton was reluctant to order any sedatives at this point, because she didn't want to mask the symptoms. But she realized if his blood pressure kept climbing, she'd have no choice.

Dr. Payton turned to another nurse and intern that remained in the room with her. She ordered more tests, when after a couple of minutes passed and the X-ray techs entered with their portable machine. She looked down at her patient, who seemed to have regained a little control of his breathing. His blood pressure stabilized as well, and though by no means was it within a safe range, it had stopped climbing for the moment. The doctor told Starsky that he was going to have his head examined, to which Starsky managed a slight grin. Sandra Payton couldn't help but like the guy; even in pain he managed to show a sense of humor.

She stepped out while the x-ray techs did their job. While she waited, Dr. Payton made sure that neuro was alerted that they were probably going to have a candidate for surgery; whether it was to tie off a bleeder, insert a shunt, or both, she wasn't sure. But she was pretty sure she was going to find, at the very least, a concussed head in the x-rays. She hoped that was all she was going to find. She ordered a more expensive, but detailed CAT scan test, just in case.

She spent several minutes at the nurse's station, waiting for the x-rays to be completed.

"Sandy?"

The doctor turned to find Ken Hutchinson standing outside of Treatment Room 1, with a sling on his arm.

"Ken? What happened? Are you okay?" she called out as she hurried toward him.

"I'm fine. I got winged in some crossfire, that's all," he said as he pulled her close to him with his good arm.

"Who examined you?" she asked, concerned.

"Um, I think a Dr. Jenkins?"

She nodded; his work was good, so she was confident Ken was treated appropriately.

Karen reappeared and said the results were back for the blood tests she'd ordered. She handed them to Dr. Payton, nodded toward Hutch, and then returned to Starsky's room.

Dr. Payton scanned the test results. "Ken, another police officer was brought in with an injury. Maybe you know him?"

"Really? Who?"

"Um, David. David Starker...oh, that's not right."

"Starsky," corrected Hutch, numbly.

"Yes! Do you know him, Ken?"

"What happened? He's not hurt bad, is he?" Anxiety showed in his tone.

"Well, I was told he was caught up in a robbery. Were you there?" Hutch nodded mutely. "Well, he caught a severe blow to the back of his head, which in turn caused him to fall forward hard. That caused some severe facial lacerations."

"Yeah, but he's okay, right? I should go see him. Which room is he in? This one?" he asked as he pointed to the next room.

"Ken, yes, but they're taking X-rays, so you can't go in yet. I'll let you in when they've finished." She noted the sudden flush expression and the slightly altered breathing pattern. "Ken, how well do you know this guy?"

"Sandy - "

The door opened to the treatment room and one of the techs rushed out. "Doc, they need you in there."

"What's wrong?" she asked as she moved toward the room. Hutch followed close by.

Karen looked up from the now writhing patient. "He's been seizing for about forty-five seconds. I'm sorry, Doctor," she said hesitantly, "but I may have triggered the seizure with something I said. I'd mentioned that his partner had received treatment for a flesh wound, and I think that may have caused his BP to elevate." She looked apologetically over at Hutch as he stood out of the way, pale and scared.

The doctor acknowledged the nurse's observation, but didn't have time for further details. Now she had a man who had a severe trauma to the head, who was seizing uncontrollably. She ordered the administration of a strong dosage of Dilantin, an anticonvulsant. "Damn it," she muttered as Starsky's convulsion continued. "Come on, David. Come back to us."

Hutch watched from the side, not believing that what he was seeing was really happening. He was the one who got winged, not Starsky. When the hell was Starsky injured? Hutch couldn't recall seeing anything that remotely resembled his partner being in harm's way.

Of course, the fact remained that Hutch couldn't recall seeing his partner anywhere once they'd arrived on the scene. He took a shaky breath.

He'd screwed up. Big time. He didn't back up his partner, and for what? He wished he knew for certain what the answer was, but he didn't. "I'm sorry, partner. I'm so, so sorry," he whispered softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What the hell happened out there?" demanded the large, burly man as he practically hurled himself into the surgical waiting room. "Hutchinson, I want an explanation as to why Starsky is in a God damned operating room instead of at my station writing up a God damned report!"

"Cap, I - " Hutch couldn't say it. He shook his head and looked down.

Dobey drew in a deep breath and then let it out, slowly. Yelling at Hutch wasn't the answer. The captain could tell that Hutch was already beating himself up. Dobey felt like he should get in line for a couple of belts for himself.

"He knew something was going to happen," Dobey said softly. "He tried to tell me, but I brushed him off. Damn it, he knew," he said more emphatically.

"What do you mean he knew?" asked Hutch. "You saying he had some kind of premonition?"

Dobey shook his head. "I don't know if it was as clear as that. All I do know is that he tried to get you both out of the assignment."

"He what? When?"

"After you took off for the hostage site without him."

Hutch could only nod at that. He had taken off. Hadn't even waited for an acknowledgment from the cap or Starsky. Damn it. Big time.

The door swung opened and in walked a tall, slender woman with long blonde hair and wearing a white lab coat. She really appeared to be the perfect physical match for the Nordic Hutchinson.

"Sandy," said Hutch, as he stood up meeting her. "How is he? Any word? Is he out of surgery?"

"Hold on, Ken. No, he's not out of surgery yet, but I was able to get a progress report from the surgical team. He's holding his own. That's all they would say for now, but that's good news, believe me."

"What's wrong with him, Doctor?" interrupted Dobey.

"I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Captain Dobey. I'm Starsky and Hutch's direct superior."

"He's our friend, too, Sandy. He needs to know what's going on," added Hutch.

Dobey nodded in agreement with Hutch's words and then asked, "What are they operating on him for, Doc?"

Sandy motioned both men to the chairs and then offered her hand to Dobey. "Hello, Captain. I'm pleased to see David has two people looking out for him." She looked at Hutch with an odd expression, but then continued to offer Dobey as much information as she could.

"David suffered a severe blow to the head due to blunt trauma. In plain English that means he got hit hard by something that was also really hard. My guess it was a baseball bat or some kind of wooden board. The surgical team found minute wood particles embedded in his scalp."

"Dear, God," remarked Dobey. Hutch, who hadn't heard this bit of information yet, paled at the notion of just how hard Starsky was pounded.

"As a result of the force of the blow, David suffered a skull fracture in the back of his head. The ramifications of this led to some blood vessels rupturing which caused them to start bleeding into his brain. There was swelling and fluid began to accumulate as well, so besides having to tie off the bleeders, the surgeons need to insert a shunt as well. This is used to drain off the fluid and reduce the swelling. Once the swelling is reduced we can then reduce the amount of seizure medication he's now taking."

"Seizures? The boy's having fits?"

"Yes, but most likely they're due to the swelling. Once that's reduced and he heals, I'm fairly confident the seizures will cease and he can go off the medication."

"Then it's not permanent?"

"I don't believe so, Captain."

The sighs of relief were audible from both men.

"So, how much longer?" asked Hutch.

"As long as they need."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, Dobey and Hutch were allowed to see their fallen colleague in the ICU. Dobey looked on silently as Hutch went up to the bed and took his hand. "Hey, Starksy. I know you probably can't hear me right now, but I just wanted to let you know I'm here. And I'll be here when you wake up. And we'll talk. I promise. Somehow, I'll find a way to tell you what's been going on with me." Hutch's breath hitched. "I'm sorry, Starsk. I'm so damn sorry."

Dobey looked on with a small sense of relief. It looked as if his detective was going to try and heal the rift. Dobey just hoped Hutch was successful. After it was clear that Starsky wouldn't awaken for the next several hours, Dobey decided to leave the unconscious man in Hutch's watch. He knew that Hutch would refuse to leave his partner's side.

At least he refused until Sandy came by to check on him.

"Ken? Let's go get a cup of coffee, okay?" she suggested.

"I can't leave him."

"He's going to sleep, Ken. You can come back as soon as we're done."

"Sandy, I don't - "

"Come with me, Ken." She took his hand and, only after Sandy left word to page her if there were any change in Starsky's condition, he allowed himself to be led out of the ICU and to the cafeteria. She seated Hutch at a table and went to pick up their drinks.

She picked up two coffees, hers with cream and two Sweet & Lows, his just black. She also picked up a roll and butter and carried it all back on a tray to the table. She placed the black coffee and the roll and butter in front of him.

"I'm not hungry, Sandy." He kept his eyes averted.

"Eat."

"Just coffee's fine, thanks." He continued to look down at the cup.

"Eat."

"Sandy - "

"Eat the damn roll, Ken." That got his attention. "Then you can tell me what the hell is going on."

Hutch stared at her and decided it was easier to eat the roll than talk. At any rate, it bought him a little time. The fact that he discovered that he actually was hungry didn't make him feel any better. He put away the roll more quickly than he'd expected to and soon realized that he owed an explanation to Sandy Payton as much as he owed one to his partner.

"I'm sorry. There's a lot I've kept from you. I don't have any excuses. Hell, I'm not even sure of the reasons, but I am sorry."

"Karen, the RN who worked with me on David earlier, told me that he's your partner?" she asked rhetorically, ignoring his apology.

Hutch answered anyway. "Yeah, for several years."

"And you're close?" He nodded. "How close?"

Hutch clenched his right hand and tapped it over his heart. "We're that close, Sandy," he choked out.

"God, Ken, you have a really funny way of showing it. We've been seeing one another for almost a month and I knew nothing about him. I didn't even know you had a partner. Why? I don't understand...."

"I don't either," he lamented. Hutch clasped the coffee cup with both hands to try and settle his trembling fingers.

"Why would you keep such an important part of your life hidden from me, Ken? I think you need to find out, don't you?"

She didn't see that his pained expression deepened, as Hutch realized for the first time how devastated Starsky was going to feel when he learned that he'd kept Sandy's existence hidden from him. He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Sandy say, "I think that until you do, perhaps it's best if we take a break from seeing one another."

"Sandy - No - please." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I know. It's okay," she said, offering him a small smile for the first time since she'd sat down. "Ken, I'm really not angry, I'm just a confused," she admitted earnestly. "I know you are too, and I should think David is as well. You need to talk to him. And soon."

Hutch nodded. "After Starsky and I talk, you and I will talk again, right?"

Sandy smiled, kissed him gently on the cheek, and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He awoke to find Hutch sleeping, albeit restlessly, in the hard plastic chair near his bed. His vision was blurry and his thought processes remained fuzzy from the medication, but he was awake.

And his partner was there. Just as he'd heard Hutch promise, through his stupor, when he was first brought into the room.

"Huh - " His voice was soft and still raspy from the anesthesia, though it didn't matter. Hutch awoke immediately at the sound of his partner's voice.

"Hey, Starsky. You're awake." Hutch smiled; it was a true, right up to the eyes smile and one that Starsky had missed and was sadly in need of for the last few weeks.

"Hush - "

"Shh, Starsk. Don't talk; it's my turn. I just wish I knew what to say."

"Don' un'ers'and, Hush."

Though his words were slurred, Hutch was able to interpret his partner's words accurately. "What don't you understand, Starsk?" he asked gently.

"She didn' know, Hush." At Hutch's somewhat puzzled look, Starsky tried to shake himself out of his drugged stupor and explain. "San'y. I tol' her my name, bu' she didn' know me.

Hutch closed his eyes when it dawned on him what that meant. "Oh, God, Starsk."

"When I tol' her where I worked, she tol' me she knew you." Then, with something that was a cross between a chuckle and a cry, he said, "Knew you ve'y, ve'y well. Bu' she didn' know me. Hush, you ashame' of me or somethin'?"

Hutch wondered if he was ever going to remember how to breathe again.

"No," he choked out. "Never. Oh, Starsk, I'm sorry. I screwed up, but I can't figure out why. I don't understand it myself, buddy, I really don't."

Starsky's eyes welled up. He thought he had some understanding of the reasons for his partner's actions, but it was something that Hutch was going to have to figure out himself. Starsky was more than willing to help him, but he couldn't take the lead on this one. He couldn't risk Hutch resenting him for the rest of his life if he was right.

Starsky cleared his throat and pointed to the pitcher of water. Hutch obliged and poured him some. After Starsky had his fill, he felt a little stronger and said, "Talk to me, Hutch. Tell me why you didn't tell me 'bout Sandy," urged Starsky.

He sat and tried to find the words that could explain the unexplainable.

"I was scared." He finally admitted it aloud.

"Of what? Me?" Starsky's voice rasped and squeaked at the same time.

"No," Hutch responded. And then he tilted his head as if he a light bulb really did light up above his head. He laughed sardonically. "No, of me."

"I don't understand, Hutch."

"I don't know if I do either, but I guess...I guess I was afraid to share."

"Share?"

"Yeah," Hutch admitted. "I was afraid to share. I don't know if I can do it like you and...." He stopped, hesitant to continue. But Starsky finished his thought for him.

"Terry. You mean like me and Terry."

Hutch nodded. "I don't know how to do this. I mean, with Terry, it was so damned easy. She was an amazing woman, Starsk. You know I really think that I loved her as much as you did."

"Do. I still do." His voice was hushed, but firm.

"Yeah, Buddy. I'm sorry, I know you do." Hutch tried to gather his thoughts, so he could best tell Starsky what was behind his actions. It was hard, too damned hard.

"I know how special Terry was. She accepted me so easily."

"No," Starsky interrupted. "Us. She accepted *us* so easily." He paused to catch his breath. Hutch remained quiet, waiting. Finally Starsky continued. "She knew we were a matched set." Starsky chuckled lightly as he thought back to the days he, Hutch, and Terry hung out together. "She accepted us 'cause she knew I love you that much..."

Hutch looked at his partner as if he were seeing him for the first time. "Starsky, I don't know what to say..."

"I never said anything to her, Hutch. She just knew. Don't know how, but she just knew if she couldn't love you, then we weren't meant to be together."

"I told you she was special, Starsky."

"Maybe Sandy is too. Ya didn't give her much of a chance Blintz, did ya?"

Hutch nodded. He couldn't argue. "I was scared of that, too, Starsk."

Seeing the quizzical look on his partner's face, Hutch continued. "I didn't know..." Suddenly Hutch's eyes lit up when realization hit. "God, Starsky, I didn't know if I wanted to share you with Sandy." The revelation took Hutch's breath away.

"Hutch, listen to me. Ya don't think I totally trusted you with Terry at first, did ya? C'mon, Blintz, I seen how ya were with the ladies. I was scare' to death that she was gonna fall in love with you and then *both* of you would leave me."

"I don't think I could leave you even I tried."

"Yeah, you could. Hell, ya did." He saw Hutch look at him, startled.

"Ya did try to leave ya dumb blond. What the hell do ya think you've been doing the last four weeks?"

Hutch knew his partner was right. He was trying to leave, though he hadn't realized it at the time, to see if he could make it without Starsky. But as good as it was with Sandy, there was a piece of him missing and he wasn't happy. He took it out on Starsky and everyone else around him.

"I was miserable, you know," Hutch said finally.

"Yeah. I know." Starsky yawned. "Me, too. I don't like being left out there all alone, ya know." He yawned again.

"You're whipped," Hutch observed correctly. "We need to continue this after you've had some sleep."

"Where we going with this, Hutch?" Starsky could barely keep his eyes open.

"I'm not sure, but I'm not planning on going anywhere, Starsk, but if I do? You're gonna be right there at my side. I couldn't live like this again. I won't leave ya hanging out there ever again. Okay?

"Me and thee, huh?" he whispered as he nestled down to get some much needed rest.

Hutch leaned over and kissed his sleepy friend on the forehead. "Yeah, partner. Me and thee."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End