Title: Memory's Ashes

Author: Susan Proto

Fandom: Starsky & Hutch, of course!

Rating: PG-13 for language

Status: New/Complete

Classification: angst,

Archive: Yes

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

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

Website: http://susanproto.freeservers.com/TheGarden.html

Disclaimers: No, they still don't belong to me. Starsky & Hutch, as well as all other recognizable characters belong to Spelling/Goldberg productions.

Author's Note: I wasn't planning to continue Dance a Memory, but I've learned to never say never.  This time, I believe, it's finished.  Though you might be able to follow the story easily enough without having read Dance a Memory first, if you get confused the first story can be found here: http://susanproto.freeservers.com/Starsky&HutchHome.html

Summary: Starsky makes a decision that feels so right, but the thought of telling Hutch scares the hell out of him.

Memory's Ashes

By Susan Proto  (STPteach@aol.com)

 

He picked up the small, round glass from the stove top and looked inside at the waxy residue.  The candle had long since burned out; Starsky reached in and rubbed his finger in memory's ashes.

 

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

 

Hutch was being released from the hospital that morning, so Starsky arrived bright and early knowing his partner would be anxious to leave as soon as humanly possible.  It had been a long forty-eight hours, and while Hutch suffered nothing more serious than a graze to the forehead and a concussion, Starsky still felt grateful that he was going to be able to chauffer his friend home that day.

 

Starsky pushed open the hospital room door to find Hutch pacing back and forth.

 

"You anxious to see me, partner?" asked Starsky with a small smile.

 

"I'm anxious to get the hell out of here!"  Hutch stooped to grab the overnight bag Starsky had brought to him the night he was admitted. 

 

"You signed all of your release papers?"

 

"Oh.  Right.  Damn it."  Hutch dropped the bag and sat down on the bed hard; he was annoyed.  He'd been ready to leave hours ago. "The nurse said she'd be back in a couple of minutes; it's been a helluva lot more than a couple of minutes.  Where is she?"

 

"Hutch, would you just relax?  They're going to let you out, I promise." 

 

Starsky easily understood his partner's frustration; it wasn't all that long ago that he'd felt the very same way.  In fact, the memory was all too fresh in his mind.  Starsky walked over and sat down in the chair that stood near the bed.  He leaned back, closed his eyes, and sighed softly.

 

"Starsky?"  Hutch wasn't sure what to make of his partner's suddenly fatigued appearance.  "You okay?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine."  At his friend's skeptical expression, Starsky added, "I'm tired, Hutch."

 

"Well, it's been a tough last few weeks for you, buddy, what with your first case back and all.  Of course, my getting winged probably didn't help any, did it?  You get any sleep last night?"  Hutch was concerned, but as they'd gone down this path before, he didn't feel any of the usual alarms go off.

 

"No, Hutch, that's not it."  Starsky sighed.  "I'm - I'm really tired."

 

Alarms began tentatively humming.

 

"I can understand that," Hutch began hesitantly, "like I said, it's been a rough few weeks for you."

 

"Hutch, I can't do this."

 

Hutch's eyes widened with surprise - anxiety - and now the alarms rang full-tilt.

 

"What can't you do, Starsk?" he managed to ask in a quiet, if not quite even-toned voice.

 

"This.  I can't go through this again," Starsky replied in kind.

 

"I don't understand."

 

"I know."  Starsky shook his head slightly and then made solid eye contact with the floor, the wall, and any other place except with his partner's eyes.  This was going to be difficult; the question was on whom would it be harder? 

 

"I'm sorry, Hutch.  Now's not the time."

 

"Talk to me, partner."

 

Starsky closed his eyes at that.  He really hadn't meant for this particular conversation to start at the hospital.  It was a conversation that needed to be held, but not at that moment. 

 

"Not here, Hutch.  Let's wait till I get you home."

 

Though his mind screamed for Starsky to not keep him in the dark, Hutch nodded.

 

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

 

The ride didn't take any longer than normal, but the silence between the two friends made it feel like an eternity.   

 

When they'd parked, Hutch looked out the window and did a double-take.  "This isn't my place."

 

"I know," replied Starsky.  "I - I guess I just needed to bring you here."  He got out of the Torino and grabbed the overnight bag from the back seat.  Starsky then waited for his partner to climb out and led him up the stairs to his apartment.

 

As they walked inside, Hutch observed with a forced levity, "You had to talk to me on your own turf, eh, Starsk?" 

 

"I guess so," he replied having only just realized how true Hutch's observation really was.  He walked into the kitchen and called out an offer of a drink. 

 

"Yeah, orange juice if you have," replied Hutch.

Starsky returned with the carton of juice and a glass for his partner, and a bottle of beer tucked under each of his arms for himself.

 

Hutch eyed the bottles and commented, "Little early in the day for the brewsky, isn't it, Starsk?"

 

"Yeah."  He sat down heavily in the large bamboo chair, almost as if he wanted to become lost inside of it.  "Want one?"

 

"Starsky, what's going on?"

 

"Nothing - and everything," Starsky replied cryptically.

 

Hutch reached over for one of the beers.

 

"Okay, buddy, anytime you're ready to let me in on whatever the hell is bothering you, I'm ready to listen."  Hutch opened the twist cap and took a swallow.

 

Starsky nodded and then mimicked his partner's move with the beer.  He drank almost a third of the way down before he spoke.

 

"It's like I said before.  I'm tired."

 

"Starsk, now that we're done with the Fairlawn drug case, the captain's going to give us a couple of days off."

 

"Hutch -"

 

But his partner quickly cut him off.  " - You'll have some time to catch your breath and rest up."

 

"Hutch, stop.  You know that's not what I'm talking about."  Starsky took another swig of the beer and then placed it on the table. 

 

"Then why don't you fill me in on exactly what the hell you are talking about," he replied, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

 

"I can't do this anymore.  I can't handle it."

 

"Starsky, you worked your ass off to get your body back in shape!  Hell, I worked my ass off to get your body back in shape!"

 

"I know!  I know, damn it, and don't think for one moment that I'm not grateful to you for all of your help.  Damn it, Hutch, I wouldn't have been able to walk out of the hospital, much less get back on the force, if it weren't for you pushing me and kicking me in the ass each and every time I was ready to throw my hands up in defeat."

 

"So, what are you talking about here?"  The confusion was evident on Hutch's face; the fear only a little less so.

 

"I'm not what I used to be."

 

"No shit, Sherlock.  You're going on forty.  You're not supposed to be what you used to be."

 

"If I want to survive on the streets or make sure I cover your back so you survive, then I'd damn well better be!"  he retorted angrily. 

 

"Starsk, no one is expecting you to be able to run as fast you used to -"

 

" - I'm not talking about that."  The expression of pain with which Starsky spoke caused Hutch to quiet down and listen.  "I'm scared, Hutch.  I'm scared for me, scared for you.  Hell, I'm scared for every cop out there.  When you went down, jeeze, Hutch, I thought I was going to pass out from fear."

 

"Aw, buddy, I'm sorry.  I wasn't hurt badly; I'm fine, you know that."

 

"I know that now, I didn't know it back then.  Hutch, being on edge can work for you or against you.  It can keep you on your toes, or it can paralyze you.  I'm afraid that I'd be a cripple the next time.  I can't do it anymore, Hutch."

 

He looked up and finally met his partner's eyes for the first time all day.  His next words were spoken so softly, that Hutch would have had good cause to wonder if he'd heard correctly.

 

"I won't.  I'm not."

 

Hutch looked at him with an expression that screamed his disbelief.  "You're quitting?"

 

"Well, I'd rather think of it as 'retiring'."  The corner of Starsky's mouth actually turned up slightly.

 

"Quitting, retiring - it's all the same thing, isn't it?"  Hutch's voice was laced with ire.

 

"No, it's not, Hutch.  I couldn't quit.  You wouldn't let me, even when I thought I'd be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life because I couldn't take two steps without fighting for breath.  But I worked my ass off and I didn't quit.  I couldn't quit; you'd placed so much time and effort in helping me to rehabilitate myself.  I couldn't disappoint you or our friends.  I couldn't do that to me either.  I wanted to prove to myself that I could make it back, and I did, Hutch.  With your determination and help, I did.  I made it back."

 

Starsky sighed.  He didn't know how to explain himself and his reasoning, but he knew he owed it to his friend to try.

 

"I walked into the station that first day back and it felt different.  I did the paper work and I didn't mind it and that in and of it self was kind of strange, you know?  I mean, for the first time in my life, I wasn't itching to get back on the streets.  I didn't know why, exactly, but I was perfectly content to sit at my desk and type reports. 

 

"When I was finally cleared for full duty, I saw how excited you were about getting back on the streets, and I realized that it wasn't there for me anymore.  Hutch, it scared me that the desire wasn't there, because I didn't know how that was going to affect our work.  I didn't know if it was going to prevent me from covering your back."

 

"Starsk, you covered me just fine.  You proved that a couple of days ago when you jumped me to protect me from the bullet."

 

"And I'm glad I was able to do that, Hutch, because if you'd have died out there, I know I would have, too."

 

"Oh, stop being so maudlin," retorted Hutch.

 

"Damn it, Hutch, would you listen to me?  Please?  I did it this time, but I don't have the heart to keep on doing it.  I was scared before; I'm terrified at the thought of going out there again." 

 

This time Starsky's words were loud and clear.

 

"I can't do it, Hutch.  I won't.  I'm not."

 

Realization hit Hutch like a ton of bricks.  "You've already handed in your resignation, haven't you?"

 

Starsky looked Hutch straight in the eye; he owed him at least that.  "Yes.  I gave Dobey my two weeks notice yesterday morning."

 

"And he didn't try to talk you out of it?"

 

"He asked me if I were sure.  When I told him 'yes', he thanked me for the notice and told me I'd be on desk duty for the final two weeks to help clear up any reports.  He also told me I'd probably need to make myself available as a witness when the Fairlawn case goes to trial.  I told him I was fine with that."

 

Hutch stared at Starsky, not saying a word for several moments.  Finally, he asked, "And when were you planning on telling me about this, partner?"  That last word was practically hissed out.

 

"Today.  Now."

 

"Why didn't you give us a chance to talk about this together before you handed in your resignation?  Do my thoughts and feelings mean so little to you?"  Hutch was hurt. 

 

And angry. 

 

And hurt.

 

"You know that's not true, babe.  You know that," he repeated in a whisper. 

 

"Then why go to Dobey before me?"

 

"Because I knew it was a decision I had to make on my own, Hutch.  This was one I couldn't use help with, not even from you."

 

Hutch shook his head.  He didn't know how to react to all of it.  Didn't Starsky realize that his decision to quit -to leave - had an effect on his life, too?  It was with this thought in mind that he muttered aloud, "What about me?"

 

"Funny you should mention that, Detective Sergeant Hutchinson," replied Starsky, smiling.

 

Hutch looked up in surprise.  He hadn't meant to utter the words aloud, but now his partner's response to them confused him even more.  "What are you talking about, Starsky?"

 

"Well, you see partner, believe it or not, I've given your position on the force some thought too.  Now, you know I'd go crazy knowing you were out on the streets without me to protect your back, so I think it's time you stepped up in the world, Hutch."

 

"Starsky, cut to the chase.  What the hell are you talking about?"

 

"Hutch, you didn't expect to remain a Detective Sergeant till you retired, did you?"

 

"Well, no, of course not.  I just figured you and I would - you telling me you're ready to take the Lieutenant's exam?"  Hutch asked hopefully.

 

"No.  But you are, buddy."

 

"Starsky, I don't want to do this anymore if you're opting out."

 

"Hutch."  The name came out as a sigh.  "You're a hell of a cop; I don't have to tell you that.  You're also one damn fine leader.  You proved that on our last case.  You knew exactly when to let Brodsky and Kramer go on their own, and when to rein them back in.  You were terrific on that case; hell, you carried both of us."

 

"Don’t say that!"  Hutch was angry.  "Don't you dare sell yourself short."

 

"I'm not, Hutch, I'm merely stating the facts.  I was a nervous Nellie on this case and you know it.  Yeah, I was able to hang in there because of my experience, but I was short-tempered and didn't always know when to keep my mouth shut.  You did, and you kept me in line, too.

 

"Don't you see, partner?  You're a born leader.  Those guys never had a problem listening to your advice or backing down on something.  They were devastated when you got hurt, Hutch.  They looked up to you.  You've got to take a shot at the Lieutenant's position."

 

Hutch looked down and shook his head slightly.  It was always his intent to seek the promotion; it had just never occurred to him that he'd be doing it solo.

 

"I'll think about it, okay?"  Upon seeing Starsky nod in approval, Hutch then asked, "So?  What about you?  If you're planning on quit- retiring from the force, you still need a way of putting food on the table."

 

"I thought I'd mooch off of my very good pal, the lieutenant."  Starsky smirked.

 

Hutch returned the wry grin and then said, "C'mon, Starsk, seriously.  I mean I'm glad you thought out my future, but what about yours?"

 

"I've thought about it; I've thought about it for quite a while actually.  It just all finally made sense yesterday morning."

 

"Okay, you've got me totally lost.  Yesterday morning?"

 

"I was cleaning up a little -"

 

"Like that's so unusual, Felix Unger!"

 

"Right, Oscar.  You want to hear this or not?"

 

"Sorry, Starsk, of course I do."

 

"Well, I was cleaning up -" Starsky threw his partner a hard stare daring him to make another wisecrack - "and I saw that Terry's yarztheit glass was still on the stove.  It had already burned out, but when I picked it up, it got me to thinking about her and how happy I'd always been when I was around her."

 

Hutch watched his partner as he silently reminisced about his memories of Terry.  He leaned over and patted his friend on the knee.  "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you that night; I'm sorry I'd forgotten her anniversary."

 

"Aw, Hutch, I already told you, don't sweat it.  We both had a lot going on at that point; I'm not upset over that."  He looked at his partner of so many years and realized that Hutch wasn't quite convinced.  He put his hand over Hutch's, squeezed gently, and said, "Really."

 

Hutch nodded and accepted Starsky's words.  "So, you came to some kind of revelation?" he asked, prodding him on.

 

"Yeah, I did.  It was the damnedest thing, Hutch. It's like I just suddenly knew what I wanted to do, and it felt so right.  That's when I wrote out my letter of resignation. I gave it to Dobey when I went into the station to finalize the case report."

 

Hutch waited a moment or two for Starsky to continue, but when he didn't, the blond half of the duo practically shouted, "Well, are you planning on keeping me in suspense forever, or are you going to tell me what you plan on doing with the rest of your life?"

 

"Promise you won't laugh if you think it's dumb?" he asked softly.

 

"Starsky, if it's something you really believe is right for you, then how could I laugh, unless of course you're planning on joining the Canadian Football League?"  As they remembered the last time - shortly after Terry's death - that job was suggested they both shared a bittersweet laugh.

 

"Well, no, not football, Hutch.  I've decided to go back to school for a teaching degree."

 

Hutch kept momentarily silent, mulling over what his friend had just said.  Finally, he said tentatively, "Going back to school is a great idea, Starsk.  What grade do you want to teach?"  He didn't think it was a horrible idea; he just wasn't sure if he thought it was a good one.

 

"No particular grade, I mean, not for what I want to teach, and for whom."

 

"Okay, now you've lost me, buddy."

 

"Hutch, remember when we'd go to Terry's school and we'd get those kids up and playing basketball?  Remember how Terry used to say that it always amazed her how we were able to get those kids moving when no one else could?"

 

Hutch nodded and a smile grew on his face as recognition came to him.  "You want to be a gym teacher for special ed kids."  It was a statement, not a question.  When Starsky nodded, almost shyly, Hutch said earnestly, "Starsk, other than being at my side on the force, I can't think of a better job for you.  You'll be great at it."

 

"You really think so, Hutch?  I mean, I think I'm pretty good with kids, you know?  I mean, it's something that I could handle, even if I'm not a hundred and ten percent fit enough for the police department, I sure as hell could handle teaching a game of dodge ball or some b-ball, don't you think?"

 

Hutch's smile grew even larger as he saw the light in his partner's eyes reappear after so many months.  It wasn't until that very moment that Hutch realized just how long it had been since he'd seen Starsky truly happy about something.  "Aw, Starsk, I think you're in fine shape to teach kids anything you'd want to teach them and anything they'd want to learn."

 

"Thanks, Hutch."  He stopped talking for a second or two and then admitted, "I called Terry's school yesterday morning, before I'd handed in my resignation to the captain.  I wanted to make sure I had a shot at it, before I officially resigned.  Anyway, the principal said she remembered me and told me what kind of courses I'd need to take.  She also told me that if I wanted to do my student teaching at the school she'd be happy to approve that. 

 

"She said she thought I'd be real good at it, Hutch, 'cause she remembered how I interacted with the kids when Terry was still alive - and even after Terry had died.  She said she hadn't forgotten how I'd still volunteered and talked with the kids even after Terry was gone."

 

"Smart woman," Hutch confirmed.

 

"Well, smart or not, she said she was willing to take a chance on me.  She even said, since it's a private school, I don't have to be fully certified to substitute teach, so if I wanted to get a taste of it while I'm going to school, she'd put me on the substitute teacher's list."  He looked up and waited for that last bit of news to hit home.

 

"When?"

 

"In two weeks, Hutch. After I've officially resigned from the force."

 

"God, Starsk." 

 

It hit home.

"Hutch, this feels so right.  Can you understand that?"

Hutch nodded; he was feeling a bit choked up and wasn't sure of his voice at that moment.  Starsky remained quiet - he wasn’t all that in control of his own emotions either and fought to keep himself together.

 

When Hutch finally felt as if he'd be able to speak without choking out the words, he said, "Have I told you lately how proud I am to be your friend?"

 

"God, Hutch, you were my biggest cheerleader for the last nine months."

 

"Yeah, well, consider me your biggest cheerleader for the next ninety years, okay?  Starsk, this is an amazing thing you're planning on doing; it is right for you.  It's a hell of a plan, buddy."

 

"What about you, Hutch?  Will you look into the Lieutenant's position?" 

 

He nodded.  "Yeah, Starsk.  I'll look into it and check out when the next exam is."

 

"May 15th." 

 

"What?"

 

"The next exam is being given on May 15th."  Starsky smiled.  "Hey, I can help you study, okay?"

 

"Yeah, well, I can't see myself on the street partnered permanently with anyone but you anyway."  Hutch cocked his head and picked up his beer.  "So, you really think I've got leadership qualities?"

 

"Yes, Hutch, I do."

 

"Well, well, well."

 

"Don't let it go to your head, Blondie."

 

"Oh, and what's that supposed to mean?"

 

"It means that even though you said you were the brains behind our partnership, we both know - "

 

"- We both know what?"

 

Starsky smiled and then laughed.  "- Know that you were the brains behind the operation, but only because I let you!"

 

"Yeah, right.  Let's see you put your money where your mouth is, big shot gym-teacher-to-be!"  Hutch clasped his hand on his partner's shoulder and said, "Go get the monopoly set, smarty pants.  Let's see if you can actually win a game!"

 

"Not a problem!  Snag another couple of beers, okay?"

Starsky stood up to go get the game from the closet.  Hutch, meanwhile, went into the kitchen for the beers.  His overnight bag grabbed his attention and he unzipped it.  He pulled out the white teddy bear that Starsky had brought to the hospital the night he was shot. 

 

"C'mon, Ollie, we've got a game to play.  But you know what, little friend?  We're going to have to be on our toes today, because I think our future school teacher may finally have found his game."

 

Hutch looked at the stuffed animal's face and could have sworn he saw the immovable eyes give him a wink.

 

"You too, huh?"

 

"Hey, Hutch!" Starsky called out from the living room.  "You hogging all the beers?  Let's get this show on the road.  I'm feeling lucky today!"

 

Hutch picked up Ollie and strolled into the living room, murmuring all the while, "I bet you are, partner, I just bet you are." 

 

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

The End (really)

 

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