MIND GAMES



MIND GAMES

Someone is after Starsky. Will Hutch be able to help Starsky find out who it is before it’s too late?

Thanks to ProvencePuss for beta reading this story.

Chapter One

The insistent ringing in his ear pulled David Starsky from a deep sleep. Shit! Time to get up already? It feels like I just got to sleep! Keeping his eyes closed, he reached out and fumbled for his alarm; annoyed when the ringing continued. As his mind became more coherent, he finally realized it was the phone ringing and not his alarm.

“ ‘Lo?” he mumbled sleepily, snagging the receiver and dragging it to his ear. There was no immediate answer, but Starsky could hear someone on the line, breathing heavily in his ear. “Hutch?” he asked anxiously. He was wide awake now, his heart starting to pound in his chest. “Is that you? Are you okay?”

Automatically, his eyes shifted to the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand. Two am. There was still no answer to his worried inquiries. Before he could speak again, there was a sharp click in his ear as his mysterious caller hung up.

Muttering under his breath, Starsky hung up the receiver. Relieved that the caller hadn’t been his partner in some kind of distress, he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. He was awakened again at 3 amby the ringing of the telephone. It was identical to the first call that had disturbed his sleep. The calls were repeated at 4 am and 5 am.

By the time Starsky’s alarm went off at 6:30 am, dragging him out of bed to start another day, he was in a cranky, irritable mood from his interrupted rest. Shoving himself to his feet, he stumbled into the bathroom. Reaching into the shower, he turned on the shower, adjusting the water to a comfortable temperature. Stepping beneath the spray, he leaned forward, resting his hands against the tiled wall, letting the water pound down over his weary body.

Somewhat revived by his shower, he finally turned off the water and climbed out of the tub. Drying off briskly, he wrapped the towel around his slim waist, continuing with his morning routine. Finishing in the bathroom, he returned to his bedroom and rummaged through his closet for clothes. Holding his breath, he pulled on a pair of his favorite skintight Levis, and then sat down on the edge of his bed to pull on his Adidas. He pulled a light blue tee shirt over his head as he headed towards the kitchen for his morning coffee.

He had just poured his first cup of the day when he heard the distinctive sound of his partner’s latest vehicle pulling up downstairs. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps on the steps and then the front door opened to admit his partner and best friend, Ken Hutchinson.

“Amazing,” Hutch said with a tolerant smile. “You’re up on time for a change.” He helped himself to a cup of freshly brewed coffee, grimacing at how strong it was. “God, Starsk,” he muttered “Did you need that much a jolt this morning?”

“Stuff it, Blondie.” Starsky growled irritably. “I’m not in the mood this morning.”

“Late night, huh?” Hutch said “Who was it this time? Karen? Becky? Or maybe somebody new?”

“None of the above,” Starsky grumbled, finishing his coffee and immediately pouring another cup. “Somebody thought it was funny to call me every hour on the hour and breath heavy in my ear.”

“Male or female?” Hutch asked with an arch of his eyebrow.

“Jeez, Hutch, I couldn’t tell just from their breathing.” Starsky quipped. “Guess I’m not as good of a detective as you are.”

“Come on Starsk,” Hutch said calmly “It was probably just kids playing around.”

“Too bad there’s no way to know what number they were calling from,” Starsky complained, stifling a yawn. He frowned as a new thought occurred to him. “How would kids get my phone number anyway? It’s not listed in the book.”

“Oh, come on, buddy,” Hutch said “They probably dialed it by accident the first time and then just decided to keep bugging you.”

“I guess…” Starsky said, as he put on his shoulder harness, and then shrugged into a light windbreaker to conceal his weapon. “Let’s give Dobey a thrill and show up on time for duty for a change.”

The two men left the apartment and climbed down the stairs to the street. Starsky pointedly ignored Hutch’s battered LTD and strode to his own car, a Candy Apple Red Torino with a broad white racing stripe. Unlocking the door, he slid underneath the wheel and leaned over to unlock the other door for his partner.

Hutch settled into the black leather seat and began to check the police issued equipment they carried in the car. Starsky turned the key in the ignition and the powerful engine roared to life. As he pulled away from the curb, Hutch reached for the microphone hanging beneath the dash to log them on duty for the day.

The day was relatively uneventful. The two detectives cruised the streets in their assigned district, stopping occasionally to talk to some snitches and other street people they recognized. They broke up a fight between a man and his girlfriend, recovered some stolen jewelry from a reputable pawnshop, and arrested a junkie who stole a woman’s handbag right in front of them. They even managed to get off work on time for a chance.

They decided to stop by The Pits for a beer and something to eat before going home for the evening. Starsky was still irritable from his disrupted sleep and more than ready to call it a day.

Their favorite bar was just starting to fill up with the late afternoon trade when the two detectives arrived. Hutch led the way to their usual booth near the back of the room. No sooner had they sat down then the owner of the bar, Huggy Bear, sat two ice cold beers down on the table in front of them. The tall black man smiled at his two friends and said, “You two are in here early tonight. What happened? Did the bad guys decide to give you a break?”

“Something like that,” Hutch said with a grin. He glanced at Starsky and then ordered for both of them. “Give us two specials, Hug.”

“And an extra order of fries with mine.” Starsky added, slouching down in his seat with a yawn.

“Those late nights are gonna get to ya yet, Starsky.” Huggy teased him, turning to walk away.

“Why does everybody assume I’m tired because I had a hot date last night?” Starsky grumbled as Huggy left to get their food.

“Maybe because that’s usually the reason you’re so wiped out.” Hutch said with a chuckle.

“Just wait until the next time some lovely keeps you up half the night and your ass is dragging the next day at work,” Starsky said pointedly. “At least if I had that as an excuse, I’d have gotten something worthwhile out of it instead of somebody breathing heavy in my ear half the night.”

“Cheer up, Gordo. After we eat, you can go home and catch up on your beauty sleep.”

“That’s just what I plan on doing.” Starsky told him.

After eating their meal, the two men left the bar and Starsky drove Hutch back to his apartment so he could retrieve his car. Before he left, Hutch promised to pick Starsky up for work the next morning. Starsky started climbing the steps to his second floor apartment as his partner pulled away.

Unlocking his door, Starsky went inside and straight to his bedroom. Stripping off his clothes, he crawled into bed and was soon sleeping soundly. The calls started shortly after one am. By 6 am, Starsky was ready to pull the telephone out of the wall. After another disrupted night of sleep, he was in a foul mood. It was a mood that Hutch picked up immediately when he arrived shortly after 7:30 am.

“Somebody playing phone games with you again, partner?” Hutch asked sympathetically, noting the tired look on Starsky’s face and the dark circles under his eyes.

“Yeah, they finally decided to stop around six o’clock this morning.” Starsky growled.

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

“About two hours…give or take.”

“Look, why don’t you take off and get some sleep? I can cover for you with Dobey.” Hutch suggested helpfully.

“Naw, I’ll be okay,” Starsky said. “We got that stake out this afternoon. I can catch some shuteye then.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Starsky said a bit more sharply then he intended to. “Let’s go, Blintz.” He grabbed a thermos of coffee off the kitchen counter. He needed something to help keep him alert. His normal eight hour shift that day felt more like sixteen. By the time he got back home that evening, he was exhausted. He never even made it to his bedroom, falling asleep on his sofa instead.

That didn’t stop the phone calls. They started again shortly after two am. At four am, Starsky took his phone off the hook so he could get some sleep. His front door slamming open at eight am aroused him from his slumber. Hutch crossed the distance between them in two steps and said anxiously, “Are you okay, Starsk?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Starsky said with a weary sigh as he shoved himself to a sitting position.

“You scared the shit out of me when you didn’t show up to pick me up this morning.” Hutch told him sharply. “Then when I tried calling you and couldn’t get through, I got worried.”

“Sorry. I took my phone off the hook around four this morning so I could get some fucking sleep.” Starsky told him. “I must have been so tired I didn’t hear the alarm.”

“I think it’s time we told Dobey about these late night phone calls,” Hutch said “Maybe he can have a tap put on your phone so we can find out who’s making them.”

“I just want them to stop so I can get a decent sleep night’s sleep.” Starsky said wearily.

“We’ll talk to Dobey as soon as we get to the office,” Hutch said “And you can stay with me tonight. At least that way you can get a good night’s sleep.”

“Thanks, Blondie.” Starsky said with a grateful smile. “Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll be ready to go.”

“I’ll call us in and let Dobey know that we’re going to be late.” Hutch reached for the phone while Starsky headed for the bathroom.

Forty-five minutes later, the two detectives were sitting in Captain Dobey’s office, explaining to their superior officer about the phone calls Starsky had been receiving for the past three nights that had been disrupting his sleep. The bulky black man leaned back in his chair when they had finished and said gruffly, “I’ll have a tap put on Starsky’s phone today. Let’s hope it works and we can catch whoever’s doing this.” He looked at his two detectives questioningly. “You’re not working on anything that big right now, are you?”

“No,” Hutch answered for both of them. “I’m beginning to think this is something more personal.”

“How about it, Dave?” Dobey questioned “Any old girlfriends that might be mad at you? Jealous boyfriends? Anything like that?”

“No.” Starsky said firmly, shaking his head. “I haven’t been seeing anybody on a regular basis lately. The last date I even had was a couple of weeks ago.”

“With Ginger?” Hutch asked with a smile.

“No, with Janice.” Starsky told him with an answering smile.

Dobey rolled his eyes as he listened to their banter. Starsky and Hutch both had the reputation of dating more than their share of the ladies. A rumor around headquarters was that they had even shared a few of them. Dobey cleared his throat to remind them of his presence.

“Starsky is going to crash at my place tonight,” Hutch said, turning his attention back to Dobey. “That way he can get some sleep.”

“That’s a good idea,” Dobey agreed. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you two knock off early today? Finish up the reports on your desk and then you can go.”

“Thanks, Captain.” Starsky said, shoving himself to his feet. He left the room with Hutch on his heels. The two detectives slumped down at their shared space at the end of one of the long tables that the department used for desks. For the next three hours, they worked diligently on catching up on their overdue reports.

“That’s it,” Hutch said as he scrawled his signature at the bottom of the page and tossed the last completed report in their out box. “Let’s get out of here, buddy.”

Hutch drove to his Venice Place apartment and the two detectives went inside. Starsky slumped down on the sofa, struggling to stay awake, while Hutch fixed a quick supper of scrambled eggs with onions, cheese, and toast. By the time he was finished eating, Starsky was barely awake.

“Come on, sleeping beauty,” Hutch said with a laugh, hauling Starsky to his feet. “Time for beddie-by.” He assisted Starsky back over to the couch where the other man flopped down on his stomach and immediately fell asleep.

Hutch grabbed a spare blanket out of the hall closet and spread it over his sleeping friend. After washing up the few dishes from their hasty meal, Hutch retired to his bedroom where he read until shortly aftereleven pm before turning in for the night.

The insistent ringing in his ear startled Hutch awake. He grabbed for the receiver before the phone could ring again and wake up Starsky. As his eyes darted to the bedside alarm, he noted that it was shortly after three am. “Hello?” he said. “There was no answer, just the sound of someone breathing heavily in his ear. “Who the hell is this and what do you want?” Hutch demanded a hard edge to his voice. There was a sharp click in his ear as whoever was on the other end of the line hung up.

“Who was it?” Starsky’s voice said from the shadows of the doorway.

“I don’t know. I think it was your fan club.” Hutch said gravely. He reached out to switch on the lamp on the nightstand.

“How the hell did they know I was here?” Starsky said. His face paled as he answered his own question. “Shit! They’re watching me.”

“It looks that way,” Hutch admitted grimly. “Or it could just be a coincidence. A wrong number or something.”

“Come on, Hutch. After everything that’s been going on with me for the past three days, you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“No.” Hutch admitted. With a determined gesture, he reached down and unplugged the phone line from the jack. “There’s nothing we can do about it tonight. Go back to bed, Starsk. Let’s both get some sleep.”

Chapter Two

The annoying phone calls continued for a few more days and then they stopped as suddenly as they had begun. After eight days of having his sleep disrupted by the phone calls, Starsky had slept through his alarm. The sound of Hutch’s annoyed voice yelling his name, accompanied by the slamming of the front door, aroused Starsky from a deep slumber.

“Shit!” Starsky muttered when he saw the time. He scrambled out of bed. “Sorry, I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” He called over his shoulder at his irritated partner as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he joined Hutch in the kitchen, still rubbing a towel through his wet curls. Hutch had made a pot of coffee and turned to his partner, arching an eyebrow inquisitively as he handed Starsky a cup. “Phone calls keep you up again all night?”

“No, just the opposite.” Starsky said. “I guess I was so tired that once I fell asleep, I didn’t hear the alarm.” His eyes fell on a plain white envelope without any address or postmark lying on the kitchen table. “What’s that?”

“Fan mail?” Hutch said helpfully. “It was taped to your front door when I got here.”

Sitting down his coffee, Starsky picked up the envelope carefully and took out a single folded sheet of paper. Opening it, he looked at the message it contained and then handed the paper to Hutch without a word.

Hutch took the paper and glanced at it. Four words had been cut out of newspapers and glued to the page. The message read: It’s Not Over Yet. Frowning, Hutch folded the paper and slipped it back into the envelope. Silently, he slipped it into his jacket.

“Whoever’s doing this is getting off on playing games.” Starsky growled, finishing his coffee with one gulp. “The fucking phone calls weren’t bad enough, now they’re gonna start sending me ‘love’ letters?”

“Calm down, Starsky,” Hutch said, grasping his friend’s shoulder and offering what comfort he could. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“How?” Starsky growled sharply. “We couldn’t find out who was making the phone calls! How are we supposed to find out who left me that note?”

“Sooner or later, they’ll make a mistake. We’ll take this to work and have it checked out. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“That’s a long shot and you know it as well as I do.” Starsky grumbled. He sighed wearily as he rubbed his hand across his face. One night without having his sleep disturbed had helped but he was still exhausted, physically and emotionally.

“It’s SOP. You know that.” Hutch pointed out. “Finish getting dressed so we can go.” He finished his own coffee while Starsky retreated to his bedroom to finish dressing.

When they got to headquarters, Hutch took the envelope to the lab to be checked for fingerprints, while Starsky went to the squad room to report the latest development to Captain Dobey.

Dobey glanced up as Hutch joined his partner, sliding into the second chair in front of the Captain’s desk. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it all.” Dobey said gruffly, gazing at his best team of detectives sternly. “It has to be someone with a grudge against Starsky.”

“That takes in about half the city.” Starsky snorted. Starsky and Hutch had the highest arrest record in the department. They had made more than their share of enemies over the years, both as a team and individually.

“Captain, we’ve already checked out the most obvious suspects…Prudholm, Marcus, Striker, Carver…” Hutch said. “They’ve all been cleared. They’re all still locked away behind bars.”

“That doesn’t mean that someone isn’t doing it on their behalf.” Dobey pointed out glumly.

“Or for their own twisted motives.” Starsky snorted. “There are enough crazies out there still walking around free.”

“Yeah, but most of them have it in for both of us.” Hutch reminded him. “Not just you. This seems like something more personal to me.”

“I agree.” Dobey said, eyeing his two detectives. He looked at the more volatile half of the two men. “Are you sure this isn’t just some ex that wants a little pay back?”

“I’m not fucking sure about anything anymore.” Starsky growled in an irritated voice.

“Well, we know whoever it is knows your address and your phone number. Those two things aren’t common knowledge.” Hutch said thoughtfully.

“But, it wouldn’t be hard for somebody to find out if they had the right connections.” Starsky pointed out.

“Unfortunately, Starsky’s right.” Dobey said “We all know how easy it is to find out that kind of information.”

The ringing of the phone on the desk interrupted their conversation. Dobey swept up the receiver, barking, “Dobey.” He listened in silence for several seconds and then said, “You’re sure? No, just bag it and hang on to it.” He hung up and looked at his two men glumly. “There were no prints on the envelope or the letter except for the two of you. And the words could have been cut out of any newspaper.”

“Big surprise there.” Starsky smirked.

“I want you both to watch your backs and let me know immediately if Starsky receives anymore letters or phone calls.” Dobey said. He raised his voice slightly as he pointed a warning finger at both men. “NO PRIVATE PARTIES! IS THAT CLEAR?”

“Crystal.” Starsky said with a grim set to his mouth as he shoved himself to his feet. Hutch followed, throwing an apologetic smile at Dobey as he exited the office.

“Fuck!” Starsky said as he slumped down in his chair, running his fingers through his hair with an aggravated motion. He bounced to his feet, too restless to sit and do nothing. “Let’s see if Huggy’s heard anything on the streets.”

Grabbing their lightweight jackets, the two men left the building. As he walked around the front of his car, Starsky saw the envelope stuck underneath the windshield wiper at the same time Hutch did. With a muttered curse, he grabbed it and ripped it open. Glancing at it briefly, he handed it to Hutch. The message, cut out of newspaper just like the first one, read: Redemption is near.

“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!” Starsky yelled in frustration, as he slid beneath the wheel, slamming his fist against the dashboard.

“Don’t take it out on the car.” Hutch chided him mildly, as he slipped the second envelope in his jacket.

“I hate the idea of somebody watching me!” Starsky snapped.

‘Well, I don’t exactly like it either, partner.” Hutch reminded him. “Because if they’re watching you, then that means they’re watching me too.”

“I just wish I had some idea who the hell was behind this!”

“We’re gonna have to do what we do best.” Hutch said mildly. “Dig through the dirt until we find out. Let’s go see Huggy.”

They found the tall thin black man busy tending to the lunch crowd that filled the bar. They managed to find two empty stools at the bar and sat own. Diane, one of Huggy’s waitresses, greeted them with a warm smile.

“What can I get you two handsome devils today?” she teased.

“Two cups of coffee.” Hutch told her with an answering smile.

“And one of Huggy’s specials.” Starsky added. “Extra fries.” He glanced at his partner with a shrug of his shoulders, “Hey, we gotta eat and I missed breakfast.”

“Make that two and tell Huggy we need to talk to him.” Hutch replied. Diane nodded and walked away to wait on a demanding customer at the end of the bar.

Starsky flexed his shoulders to relieve some of the tension and tried to relax. This wasn’t the first time he had been stalked by some scumbag with a grudge and he doubted if it would be the last. But, it was not in his nature to passively accept the role of a victim. Anyone who knew Starsky knew that he was anything but passive.

Within a few minutes, Huggy Bear swaggered over to the two detectives. In his normal cocky tone, he said, “And to what do I owe the honor of your company today, my fine friends?”

“Somebody decided to stop calling Starsky on the phone and started leaving him love notes instead.” Hutch explained. “We need you to put the word out on the street and see if anybody’s heard anything about someone with a score to settle with Starsky.”

“You don’t want much, do ya?” Huggy said with a grin. “That’s a pretty tall order. Curly’s not as popular as you are, m’man.”

“Thanks a lot, Hug.” Starsky grumbled, as Diane sat his food down in front of him. Giving Hutch his order, she discreetly disappeared. Whatever the three men were discussing, it wasn’t any of her business. Starsky attacked his meal enthusiastically.

“Hey, I just call ‘em as I see ‘em.” Huggy said good-naturedly. He lowered his voice so that only the two men could hear him. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Hug.” Hutch told him with a grateful smile. “We owe you one.”

“You owe me a lot more than just one.” Huggy reminded him with a snort as he turned and walked away. Huggy wasn’t just an informant, he was also a personal friend of the two detectives. Starsky and Hutch knew he’d do whatever he could to find any information that could help them find out who was harassing Starsky and why.

After finishing their lunch, the two detectives left the bar. As he stepped outside, Starsky stopped in his tracks, stunned. “MY CAR!” He bellowed angrily. “LOOK WHAT SOMEBODY DID TO MY CAR!”

Hutch stood beside his partner gaping in shock at his partner’s vehicle. Both tires on the passenger’s side were flat, slit with a knife from the way it looked to Hutch’s experienced eyes. A large crack spider-webbed the front windshield and something had been thrown on the roof and had leaked down over the sides, eating away at the paint job like acid, leaving a gray sludge where the paint had dissolved.

“We better call it in.” Hutch said, jerking open the passenger side door and leaning in to reach for the microphone hanging beneath the dash. He jerked back with a disgusted grimace when he saw the feces smeared across the leather upholstery. There was no way to deny any longer that this wasn’t a personal vendetta against Starsky. Trying to ignore the putrid odor that filled the inside the vehicle, Hutch grabbed the mike, pulling it outside the car and into the fresh air. Behind him, Starsky was mouthing a colorful vocabulary of obscenities, in at least two different languages.

“This is Zebra three. We need a tow truck for mechanical assistance and a crime lab at The Pits bar.” Hutch said into the mike.

“Were you and Starsky in an accident, Hutch?” the dispatcher’s worried voice came over the air.

“Not exactly, Millie,” Hutch told her. “Somebody trashed Starsky’s car.”

“Ten-four, Hutch. Assistance is on the way.”

Hutch tossed the mike back into the front seat and turned to his highly agitated partner. Starsky halted his frenzied pacing and glared at his partner. His eyes blazed with anger, obviously wanting to punch something but he didn’t have a convenient target to center his rage on.

“MY CAR! MY FUCKING CAR!” he said in an outraged voice, the despair in his eyes only partially masked by the rage. “HOW COULD ANYBODY DO THAT TO MY CAR?” The crack in his voice told Hutch how upset Starsky was at the vandalism to his vehicle.

“I guess this makes it personal, doesn’t it?” Hutch said, slinging a comforting arm over his distraught partner’s shoulders.

“You’re damned straight.” Starsky growled fiercely, his voice cold as ice. “It doesn’t get much more personal than this.”

Chapter Three

Captain Dobey hung up the phone and looked at his two detectives solemnly. Starsky’s expression and posture reflected the smoldering rage that still seethed inside of him. In a gruff voice, Dobey said,

“We have a team questioning people in the other businesses around the Pits but so far nobody has seen anything. The lab confirmed that the tires were cut with a knife and it was brake fluid that was used to do a number on the paint job.” He sighed wearily. “The feces inside the car were most likely from a dog…a large dog.”

“Let me guess,” Hutch said flatly “No prints?”

“You got it.” Dobey said, confirming Hutch’s suspicions.

“I wanna know how the fuck somebody could do that kinda number on my car while it was parked on the street in plain sight and nobody saw anything!” Starsky snapped sharply. “Nobody gives a damn anymore!”

“Cool it, Starsky!” Dobey said just as sharply. “I’m sorry about your car but at least it was your car and not you!”

“This time,” Starsky said sullenly, slouching in his chair and glaring at his Captain as if daring him to prove him wrong.

“This whole thing is getting out of hand,” Dobey said grimly. “Starsky, I want you to go into a safe house until we find out who is behind this.”

“NO WAY!” Starsky yelled, bouncing to his feet and leaning against the desk to stare down his Captain. “I’M NOT LETTING THIS BASTARD GET THE UPPER HAND BY HIDING!”

“It’s for your own safety!” Dobey bellowed, raising his own voice as he stared back at his unruly detective. “This isn’t just anonymous phone calls and a few letters anymore!”

“I’M NOT GOING TO A SAFE HOUSE!” Starsky repeated firmly, his jaw set in a hard line that Dobey knew far too well. Starsky’s mind was made up and nothing was going to make him change it.

“Captain,” Hutch said calmly. “Maybe Starsky is right. Whoever is behind this seems to know every move we make. Going to a safe house isn’t necessary going to keep Starsky any safer than he would be on the streets.” Starsky tossed his partner a grateful look, silently thanking him for his support. The sound of Hutch’s voice helped to calm the brunet’s ragged nerves and helped him find his center.

“What do you suggest?” Dobey grumbled.

“Starsky and I will stick together for the next few days.” Hutch said “And we’ll keep on turning over every rock and digging in every trash can we can find until we find out who is behind this and why!”

Dobey considered Hutch’s suggestion for several long moments and then nodded. “You have seventy-two hours. If you haven’t turned up anything by then, we do it my way. That’s an order!”

Starsky and Hutch exchanged a glance, communicating silently, as they considered Captain Dobey’s ultimatum. Finally, Starsky gave a slight nod, mutely agreeing with what Hutch had in mind.

“Okay, Cap.” Hutch said, speaking for both of them. “Seventy-two hours.” Dobey nodded his agreement as the two detectives rose to their feet and left the office. As the door closed behind them, Starsky looked at Hutch and said,

“Okay, so where do we start?”

“Hell if I know.” Hutch said. “How about going back to your place and putting our heads together? We have to be missing something.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They went downstairs and out to the parking lot where Hutch had left his car. Starsky couldn’t help glancing towards the impound lot where his vandalized Tornio was sitting behind the fence. A forlorn expression swept over his face that tugged at Hutch’s heart. He knew how much his car meant to Starsky. It was his pride and joy. He spent an outrageous amount of money keeping the car in top shape. Hutch might tease him about his ‘striped tomato’, but the truth was, Hutch actually liked Starsky’s car.

“Come on, buddy,” Hutch attempting to cheer him up. “Merle will fix it up as good as new for you.”

Starsky’s only reply was a somber grunt as he climbed into Hutch’s battered LTD. Hutch drove to Starsky’s apartment in silence, both men lost in their own thoughts. At the second floor landing, Starsky dug his keys out of his jeans and unlocked the door. Hutch went in first with Starsky close behind.

“I’ll grab a couple of beers.” Hutch said, heading towards the kitchen. Starsky nodded absently and walked over to the sofa, slumping down on the cushions. He glanced up when Hutch called from the kitchen “Uh…Starsk, come here a sec.”

Starsky shoved himself to his feet and ambled into the kitchen, stopping in shock when he saw the packs of meat sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. He looked at Hutch with a stunned expression. “What the hell?” he muttered, a hard edge creeping into his voice.

“I thought maybe you were getting senile in your old age.” Hutch said lightly. He glanced around the kitchen but other than the packs of meat; nothing seemed to be out of place.

Starsky grabbed the meat and threw it in the trash with a muttered curse. He looked at Hutch, his eyes dark with anger, “They were in my fucking house, Hutch! In my house…touching my things!”

“Why don’t you make sure nothing is missing?” Hutch suggested “And I’ll see if they left anything I can fix to eat.”

“Just order a pizza.” Starsky said. “I’ll pay for it.” Starsky began looking over his apartment, searching for anything out of place or missing. He found another surprise waiting for him in the bedroom. The bedding had been torn off his waterbed and the mattress cut in several places. The water had leaked out on the floor, soaking through carpet. His clothes had been pulled out of the closet and dresser, littering the floor around the bed. Pictures had been pulled from the wall, the frames and the glass broken. Several photographs had been ripped into tiny pieces and scattered around the room. Written on the wall above the dresser, in what appeared to be blood, was the message: You can’t hide. We will find you.

“Shit,” Hutch’s soft voice said from behind Starsky’s left shoulder. “I’ll call it in.” Starsky stood there, his gaze surveying the destruction of his bedroom as Hutch walked back to the living room to call headquarters.

When he had completed his call, they waited in the living room for the crime lab to arrive. When they did, Hutch told the officer in charge to tell Captain Dobey that the two detectives could be reached at Hutch’s apartment and he quickly ushered Starsky out of the building.

Starsky slouched in the passenger’s seat with his head leaned back and his eyes closed but Hutch knew he wasn’t sleeping. He could see the rigid set of Starsky’s shoulders and the tight pinched edges around his mouth. The brunet was struggling to keep the rage he felt bottled inside of himself. Starsky opened his eyes when Hutch pulled up in front of his Venice Place apartment and turned off the ignition.

“Let’s hope they didn’t trash your place too.” Starsky growled as he climbed out of the car.

“Hey, you’re the one they seem to be mad at, not me.” Hutch reminded him with an apologetic smile.

“I feel like I’m walking around with a target on my back.” Starsky snarled as the two men climbed the steps to Hutch’s second floor apartment.

Hutch reached up over the doorframe for the key. He opened the door and reached to switch on the overhead light. As Hutch shut the door behind them, locking it securely, Starsky said quietly, “Hey, Hutch…”

When the blond turned to look at him with a questioning glance, Starsky nodded his head towards the kitchen table where a package wrapped in plain brown paper was sitting. Cautiously, the two men approached the package. Starsky’s name was written across the paper in black marker.

“Don’t touch it,” Hutch warned Starsky unnecessarily, “It could be rigged.”

“It ain’t rigged.” Starsky said confidently

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because they want to play games, they don’t want to hurt me,” Starsky said. In an ominous voice, he added “Not yet anyway.” Hutch grabbed his wrist as he reached out to tear open the wrapping paper.

“You sure you wanna do this, buddy?” Hutch cautioned.

“I have to know what’s in there, Blintz.” Starsky said, “It might be something to help us figure out who’s behind all this.”

“It’s your call, pal,” Hutch watched uneasily as Starsky carefully tore open the package and lifted the lid. Starsky’s face paled and he took a step back from the package when the contents were revealed.

Glancing over his shoulder, Hutch saw that the box contained a dead rat with its throat slit and two plastic dolls, one blond and one brunet, both dressed like cops. The brunet doll was drenched with blood, presumably from the rat.

Starsky staggered backwards and sat down on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. Hutch sighed and sat down beside his partner. “It’s okay, buddy.” Hutch said, gently rubbing Starsky’s back to help calm him down. “We’ll get through this…together, just like always.”

“You’re not the one they’re after, Blintz,” Starsky mumbled in a flat toneless voice. He raised his head to look at Hutch with a dejected expression in his eyes. “You’re not the one they’re playing these fucking games with! What the hell do they want? Why don’t they just come after me and get it over with?”

“They want to get under your skin…to rattle you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s working.” Starsky snorted in a discouraged voice.

“Come on.” Hutch said, pulling Starsky to his feet and guiding him to the bathroom. “Why don’t you take a shower and then try to get some sleep? You’re exhausted. We’ll deal with this shit tomorrow.”

Shoulders slumped in defeat; Starsky disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. Hutch waited until he heard the sound of the shower running before turning and walking over to the phone to call Captain Dobey about his own unexpected package.

“How’s Starsky holding up?” Dobey growled when Hutch had finished telling him about the vandalism at Starsky’s apartment and the package that had been left at Hutch’s apartment.

“About as well as can be expected.” Hutch said. “He’s on edge. We both are. Damn it, Captain! There’s gotta be something to tell us who’s behind this!”

“No fingerprints…nothing! Whoever it is, they’re careful not to leave any evidence behind that we can trace.”

“This isn’t just some random crazy.” Hutch said glumly. “This whole thing is too well thought out, too well planned.”

“I agree. I still think Starsky should go to a safe house until we find out who is behind this.”

“He’s not going to agree to that, Cap.” Hutch said “We’ve got a better chance of finding them if we’re out there on the streets ourselves looking for them.”

“I’ve got some men going back over your files. Maybe they’ll see something the two of you missed.” Dobey said, “They’re also cross checking the most likely suspects, Prudolm, Marcus, Stiller…”

“Let me know if you find out anything.” Hutch said somberly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on, a dull ache centering behind his eyes.

“What are you and Starsky going to do?”

“I think I’m gonna get him out of town for a couple of days, give him a chance to get some rest.”

“That sounds like a good idea. Just make sure and let me know where you’re at.”

“Will do.” Hutch agreed, sighing as he hung up the phone. Now all he had to do was convince his stubborn partner to leave town for a few days. They both needed a break from the stress of the past two weeks. Protecting Starsky was, and always would be, Hutch’s first priority.

Chapter 4

Starsky stared out of the window, watching the passing scenery with feigned interest. They had left the city early that morning and had been driving for almost two hours. Hutch had not revealed their destination and Starsky hadn’t bothered to ask.

Starsky had reluctantly agreed to Hutch’s suggestion of leaving town for a few days in order to get some rest and recharge. Starsky knew his own limitations. He knew that the stress of the past couple of weeks had left him volatile and dangerous to be around. Captain Dobey had every available man he could spare following up leads, so the case was in competent hands during their absence.

“Hey, Blintz,” Starsky said quietly. “How about telling me where we’re going?”

“One of Huggy’s cousins has a place on the beach he said we could use for a few days.” Hutch told him, concentrating on his driving as he followed the carefully memorized directions.

“The beach? Great, I can work on my tan.” Starsky quipped with a crooked smile.

Spotting the turn off he’d been looking for, Hutch turned left and followed a rutted dirt road for ten miles to a private beach with no trespassing signs clearly posted. He pulled up in front of a small cottage that sat along the edge of the beach and turned off the engine.

The two detectives climbed out of the car and automatically surveyed their surroundings. The uncluttered beach stretched for miles both directions with no other residences in sight. The deserted location appeared quiet and peaceful. The house seemed to be in good repair, even though the shingles were weather-beaten and worn. An attached deck ran along the front of the house, facing the beach.

Hutch dug a set of keys out of his pocket and climbed the steps to the deck. Starsky opened the trunk, pulling out their overnight bags while Hutch unlocked the front door. Grabbing the bags, he followed his partner into the cottage.

The interior was dim with that closed in smell that Starsky knew meant the cottage hadn’t been used in quite some time. Hutch pulled open the heavy drapes that covered the windows, flooding the room with sunlight. The cottage consisted of one large room with a kitchenette at one end and a stone fireplace at the other. A double bed sat tucked away in the corner with a worn sofa placed in the middle of the room facing the fireplace.

“Not bad.” Hutch said, glancing around the room. “It kinda reminds me of Dobey’s cabin up at Pine Lake.”

“Well, I’ll take the beach over the mountains any day.” Starsky said, dropping their bags to the floor just inside the doorway. The two men went back out to the car to carry in the rest of the supplies they had brought with them. Hutch put away their food while Starsky stowed the rest of their gear.

Starsky grabbed a bag of chips that Hutch had laid on the table and went out onto the deck. When Hutch joined him a few minutes later, he found his partner sitting on the steps, eating chips and staring out at the ocean.

“How ya doing, pal?” Hutch asked as he sank down on the step beside Starsky, giving his leg a comforting squeeze.

“I’ve been better.” Starsky admitted with a heavy sigh.

“You and me both, partner. You and me both.” Hutch agreed. “Okay, so what do we have so far? The whole thing starts with late night hang up calls. That goes on for almost a week and then escalates to nasty love letters and surprise packages.”

“Don’t forget what they did to my car.” Starsky reminded him glumly.

“I didn’t forget about your car,” Hutch said with a rueful smile. “So what does all that tell us? That somebody is playing head games with you for their own twisted pleasure. And it’s too personal to be just some crackpot that picked you at random to harass.”

“And they’re watching us. Don’t forget that.” Starsky said, “Because they know every move we make and when to make their little deliveries without being caught.”

“And the most likely suspects are safely locked away and there doesn’t seem to be any connection to them and somebody on the outside working on their behalf.”

“And whoever is doing it is smart enough not to leave any prints or any other evidence that can help us bust ‘em.”

“And they have the connections to be able to find out where I live and get my phone number.”

“And you’re sure that it’s not an ex-girlfriend or somebody you know with an axe to grind?”

“I’m sure. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Starsky grumbled.

“We’re not working on anything hot enough to warrant something like this and we don’t have any big court cases on the docket.” Hutch mused. His voice grew frustrated “So where does that leave us?”

“Same place we were before.” Starsky growled “With absolutely nothing.”

“Starsk,” Hutch said thoughtfully “What if there’s more than one person involved? I mean, it would make sense…”

“Yeah, I guess,” Starsky said “But, the more people involved, the easier it would be for somebody to mess up and make a mistake.”

“What about the messages they’ve been leaving you? Think it’s just another way to get under your skin or is there some kinda warning there?”

“I don’t know about you,” Starsky said sarcastically “But I’d call a dead rat and a dark haired doll dressed like a cop and drenched in blood a pretty clear warning.”

“Not that,” Hutch said impatiently “I mean the notes and the writing in your bedroom.”

“I guess is depends on what they mean by redemption is near and telling me that I can’t hide from them.”

“Them.” Hutch repeated, growing excited as a thought suddenly occurred to him, ‘The message on your bedroom wall clearly said we. That implies more than one person being involved.”

“Terrific. You’re just a ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” Starsky muttered. “Let’s hope one of them makes a mistake soon or I’m going be ready for Cabrillo State.”

“Come on, Starsky,” Hutch said, slapping him on the shoulder with a grin. “I ain’t gonna let that happen. Remember what happened the last time you were there.”

“Don’t remind me.” Starsky said, shoving himself to his feet and brushing off the seat of his jeans with his hand. “My ass was black and blue for a week from all those damn shots.”

Disappointed that their brainstorming efforts hadn’t produced more positive results, Hutch sighed as he stood up and followed his partner back into the cottage. They spent the rest of the day relaxing and enjoying each other’s company, turning in early and getting a decent night’s sleep for a change.

Hutch was the first one awake the next morning. He had always been an early riser whereas Starsky would sleep until ten or later if he wasn’t disturbed. Since Starsky needed the rest, Hutch decided to let him sleep. Since it was a clear sunny day, Hutch decided to take a run along the beach. At least that was his intention until he stepped out onto the deck.

He was stunned to find the entire deck covered with black roses. There had to be at least three dozen roses scattered across the boards. Hutch felt a cold chill gripping at his chest. He knew two things about black roses. One, they were supposed to signify death and two, roses had to be special ordered in order to get them in black. He knew this was another warning, a mute taunt that they were still being watched. They couldn’t hide in this secluded hideaway from whoever was set on tormenting his partner.

Hutch cursed under his breath as he quickly gathered up the evidence, tossing the flowers into a black trash bag before Starsky saw them. Although Hutch had no intention of hiding what he’d found from his partner, there was no need for Starsky to have the blatant warning thrown in his face. He was tying the bag closed when Starsky’s voice came from the shadows of the doorway, startling him.

“What’s going on, Blondie? Spring cleaning?”

“Not exactly.” Hutch said with an awkward smile. “Somebody left us another little calling card sometime during the night.”

“What?” Starsky exclaimed, his eyes widening in alarm. “How the hell did they find us clear out here?”

“They had to have followed us somehow.” Hutch said grimly, as he sat the bag in the corner and turned to face his partner. “But I don’t know how they did it. I didn’t spot any tail.”

“What did they leave this time?” Starsky demanded.

“About three dozen black roses scattered all over the deck.” Hutch told him in a resigned tone.

“Shit…” Starsky suddenly darted from the deck and stroke over to Hutch’s car with a determined gait. Hutch watched with a frown as Starsky started examining the car, finally dropping to his back on the sound to look at the underside of the vehicle. After a few minutes, Starsky scooted out from beneath the car and shoved himself to his feet. Rejoining his partner on the porch, Starsky opened his palm and showed Hutch the tracking device he had found stuck to the underside of the car. “That explains how they found us.” The brunet said smugly.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Hutch asked, leaving the decision up to his partner.

“We might as well pack up and head back to the city.” Starsky said grimly. “They know where we are and this place is too isolated to get back-up in a hurry if we need it. I’d rather take my chances back in the city.”

“Makes sense to me.” Hutch agreed with a nod of his head. “Let’s rustle up some breakfast and then get the car packed up.” Starsky nodded and silently followed his partner back into the cottage, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

Two hours later, the two detectives were on their way back to Bay City. The tracking device on Hutch’s car proved that whoever was harassing Starsky was determined to continue their mind games. Hutch could only hope that they would be able to find out who it was before something happened to Starsky.

Chapter 5

Starsky slumped on the soda as he ate the last piece of pizza. His gaze drifted to the television. He watched a few minutes of I Was A Teenage Vampire before losing interest in the movie. He had shared a twelve pack of beer with Hutch and was feeling mellow and relaxed. They had been back in the city for almost three days without anymore anonymous phone calls, vaguely threatening letters, or unexpected packages. But, Starsky knew better than to let down his guard. He had a feeling this was just the eye of the storm.

He was on edge, jumping at any unexpected noises and waiting for something to happen. He hated the feeling of being watched by unseen eyes. He started every time a phone rang, either at home or at work. He was still only getting a few hours sleep each night, too keyed up to sleep soundly. If his tormenter’s intentions were to drive him crazy, wondering constantly what they had in mind next, they were doing a bang up job.

He glanced over at Hutch who was dozing in the lounge chair, his long legs sprawled out in front of him and his mouth hanging part way open. Starsky couldn’t help but smile at the picture his partner presented. Hutch hadn’t left his side for over a week and, although he was grateful for the big blond’s support and concern, Starsky was starting to feel hemmed in.

“Hey, Blondie,” Starsky said, tossing one of the throw pillows from the couch at his slumbering partner. “Wake up!” Hutch started, awake in an instant, looking around the room wildly. Starsky chuckled softly as he shoved himself to his feet. “Time for bed, sleeping beauty.” the brunet teased him. “You sleep in that chair all night and your back is gonna be telling you about it in the morning.” Starsky roused himself enough to grab a pillow and blanket out of the hall closet for his partner, dumping the bedding on the arm of the sofa. “See ya in the morning, partner.” Hutch grunted in reply as he shuffled over to the sofa while Starsky continued through the doorway and into his bedroom.

Stripping off his clothes and dropping them to the floor beside his bed, Starsky strolled into the adjoining bathroom and reached in to turn on the shower, adjusting the water to a comfortable temperature. Stepping beneath the spray, he raised his face into the water and closed his eyes, letting the hot water wash over him, soothing his weary muscles and relaxing him. Grabbing the bar of soap from the tray, he lathered up, performing the familiar ritual in silence.

Turning to rinse the lather from his body, he picked up his shampoo and squeezed a generous portion out into his palm, rubbing it briskly through his thick dark curls. As he tilted his head beneath the water to rinse the shampoo out of his hair, he heard a thumping sound coming from the living room. The noise brought a smile to his face as he pictured his clumsy partner running into the furniture as he turned out the lights.

Turning off the water, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the dowel, drying his body and then toweling the moisture out of his hair. Wrapping the towel around his slender waist, he brushed his teeth and used the commode before going back into his bedroom. He heard another thump outside his bedroom door.

“Hey, Hutch,” He called out as he reached for the door to pull it open. “What are you doing out there?” He was knocked off balance when the bedroom door was suddenly pushed open from the other side unexpectedly. Starsky only had a few seconds to register the two figures coming at him from the darkened living room before his head exploded in pain. He slumped to the floor at the intruders’ feet, unconscious.

The early morning sunlight was creeping through the kitchen windows when Hutch groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He closed them again almost immediately as the pounding in his head almost overwhelmed him. A wave of nausea forced his eyes open again as he scrambled to his feet, making a mad dash for the bathroom. He barely made it to the commode before falling to his knees and retching violently. It was several long minutes before the heaving stopped and he was able to raise his aching head.

Falling back against the tub, Hutch cradled his head in his hands trying to remember how much he’d had to drink the night before. He didn’t remember drinking enough to cause a hangover this bad. Slowly, he became aware of a strange taste in his mouth and a burning in his nostrils that had nothing to do with vomiting his guts out.

His head shot up and his eyes widened in alarm as he recognized the lingering aftereffects of being chloroformed. “STARSKY!” he bellowed as he staggered to his feet and stumbled back into his partner’s bedroom. He stopped, glancing around the room and trying to control the frantic pounding of his heart. The room was empty and the bed didn’t look as if Starsky had slept in it. Fear clutched at his heart, a chill crawling up his spine, when he saw Starsky’s clothes lying on the floor beside bed. “STARSKY!” he yelled again, as he began a frantic, desperate search for his missing partner.

There was no sign of Starsky anywhere in the apartment. The only thing Hutch saw that seemed out of place was a discarded towel lying beside the front door. Jerking open the front door, Hutch stumbled out onto the deck and down the steps towards the Tornio, which was still parked in the driveway in front of Hutch’s car. He almost didn’t see the piece of paper tucked neatly underneath the windshield wiper on his car.

Grabbing the note, Hutch opened it, his face growing pale at the message it contained. Five chilling words that threatened to rip Hutch’s heart out of his chest. He belongs to us now. Clutching the note in his fist, Hutch turned and ran back into the apartment to call headquarters. He savagely punched out the numbers, misdialing the first time in his haste and having to dial again. He managed to tell the dispatcher that answered the phone to send a crime team and Captain Dobey to Starsky’s address immediately, code three, Officer missing.

Slumping down on the sofa, Hutch took several deep gasping breathes trying to get his racing heart under control and to calm his rattled nervous system. It didn’t do much good. The only thing that would calm him down was to find his abducted partner before it was too late. His hands were trembling so badly that he spilled the coffee when he tried to make a pot while he was waiting for help to arrive.

Finally, the crime lab arrived along with Captain Dobey. While the team started examining the apartment to clues about Starsky’s disappearance, Captain Dobey quietly led the blond half of his best team outside where they could talk privately.

“What happened?” Dobey demanded, his voice gruff yet gentle.

“I don’t know.” Hutch said in frustration. “Starsky and I both had a couple of beers and I fell asleep in the chair. Starsky woke me up when he got ready to go to bed and I fell back to sleep on the sofa. That’s all I remember until I woke up this morning with the worst hangover I’ve ever had…it wasn’t until I puked my guts out that I realized I’d been chloroformed.” He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “I couldn’t find Starsky anywhere. When I came outside, I found that note left on my car.”

“Was there any evidence of a struggle?”

“Not that I could see. It looks like they caught Starsky by surprise.” He looked at his commanding officer solemnly. “Starsky’s clothes were lying on the floor beside the bed and there was towel on the floor by the front door. I think they surprised him while he was in the shower or just after he got out.”

“Captain Dobey,” one of the lab crew said from the open doorway behind them, inclining his head back towards the interior of the apartment, indicating that they had found something.

Captain Dobey and Hutch hurriedly followed the tech back to Starsky’s bedroom where they found another technician kneeling beside a large blood stain on the bedroom carpet. In his anxiety earlier over his missing partner, Hutch hadn’t even noticed it. The technician was taking samples of the semi-dry blood to compare it to Starsky’s blood type.

“He’s hurt…” Hutch said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “They hurt him.”

“Take it easy, Hutchinson.” Dobey growled “We’ll find him.”

“How?” Hutch demanded, his voice rising with anger. “We don’t even have any clue who is behind this!”

“Let’s just wait and see if the lab boys turn up anything.” Dobey said calmly, taking Hutch by the arm and leading him back into the living room and away from the sight of the bloodstain on the carpet.

Dobey knew that nothing would stop Hutch from going out on the streets to search for his partner. He wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t sleep, and he wouldn’t rest until he found Starsky, even if that meant tearing the city apart and rousting every snitch he had.

It was in circumstances like these that Hutch was a dangerous predator, focused solely on his prey.

Chapter 6

Starsky forced his eyes open, panicking when all he could see was darkness. As his aching head cleared, he realized that he was blindfolded. He also realized that he was lying on a cold dirt surface that chilled his naked body. The only warmth came from a body lying on top of him, and a hungry mouth against his. Instinctively, Starsky began struggling, but his hands were tied securely behind his back, and there was no slack in the ropes.

Starsky strained against the ropes, but they were strong and had been tied by an expert, with no give whatsoever. His body ached from the strain on his shoulders and from a beating he’d obviously received while he was unconscious. Panic was forming in his chest, choking him. He had to stay calm so he could think.

The body writhing on top of him was a female. She was dressed in some kind of heavy gown that scratched against Starsky’s skin uncomfortably. Her hands were fondling him intimately, even as her mouth tried to devour his own. Starsky’s body remained unresponsive, repulsed by the woman’s blatant and unwanted molestation.

Suddenly, a chill filled the air and Starsky heard the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. The woman covering him gave a startled yelp as she was pulled away from Starsky’s body. The sound of flesh hitting flesh could be clearly heard. A woman’s voice hissed angrily, “Get her out of here and make sure she’s punished for her indiscretion!”

Starsky sensed someone kneeling beside him, he could smell the scent of lilacs, and then he felt the tender touch of the woman’s fingertips gliding down his cheek. “So, you’re awake. I’m sorry about that. She won’t bother you again.”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what’s going on?” Starsky muttered “Or how about taking off this blindfold so I can see you?”

“All in good time,” The woman said with a soft chuckle. “You’ll have all the answers you need soon.”

“I’m a cop. It’s not a good idea to snatch a cop,” Starsky said with more confidence than he actually felt. “If you let me go, we can just forget the whole thing.”

“Not likely.” The woman said smugly. “I’ve gone too much trouble to get you here. Why would I let you go?”

“What do you want with me?”

“You’ll see…when it’s time all will be revealed.”

“Terrific.” Starsky muttered, not in the mood to play word games with her. He flinched when she ran her fingertips across his lips, startling him at the unexpected touch. The sound of her mocking laughter filled the air as her footsteps walked away. Starsky strained to listen for unfamiliar sounds that might help him get a fix on his situation.

Concentrating on his other senses since he couldn’t see past the blindfold, his mind began to note the things he could identify. He vaguely remembered the intruders pushing their way into his bedroom, which explained why he was nude. The air around him was cold and he could hear the sound of crickets in the background so he assumed he was either outdoors or in an enclosed area with an easy access to the outdoors.

There were no traffic sounds nearby so he didn’t think he was in the city any longer. If he was in the city, he was in a secluded area where he wouldn’t discovered accidentally by a casual passer-by.

There was a curious blend of odors in the air, some pleasant, some not so pleasant. Sweat, the smell of unwashed bodies, food cooking somewhere, wood smoke from an open fire, stale urine and feces, vomit and the musty smell of decay. Starsky could also detect the heavy aroma of marijuana and alcohol lingering in the air.

Starsky tested the ropes binding his hands again but it was a wasted effort. All he got for his efforts was chafed wrists as his futile struggles caused the rough hemp of the rope to cut into his skin. His head still ached from where he’d been knocked out during his abduction. His stomach and his rib cage both hurt where he’d obviously been kicked repeatedly while he was unconscious.

Where are you, Hutch? Now would be a good time to bust in here and find me, Blintz. The thought of his partner brought a new worry to mind. Had they hurt Hutch when they abducted him from his apartment? Hutch, where are you? Are you okay, Blondie? Are you hurt?

Starsky tried to force himself to remain calm, to take slow cleansing breathes, as he relaxed his tense muscles. All he could do was wait, wait and see what his captors had in mind for him. He was positive that whatever it was, he wasn’t going to like it. He knew there were at least two men and two women involved and, God only knew, how many more there might be. Obviously, the second woman, the one who had talked to him, appeared to be one of the people in charge.

Starsky let his mind drift. At the moment, he saw no way out of his captivity. He would have to count on the Calvary coming to his rescue before it was too late. He needed Hutch but Hutch wasn’t there. Starsky knew that Hutch would be out there looking for him, turning over every rock and using every source of information he had to find him. Starsky just hoped he didn’t take too long. He had an uneasy feeling that whatever his captors had planned, it would happen soon. Starsky prayed that he had the strength to hold on until Hutch got there and saved him.

He must have dozed off because he was suddenly jarred awake by the shock of cold water drenching his body. He gasped in shock as his body shivered violently in reaction to the assault. Suddenly, he felt unseen hands grabbing him, pulling him to his knees. The sharp blade of a knife against his throat and the fingers twisted in his hair warned him not to struggle.

He sensed at least three people manhandling him. One of them untied the ropes, freeing his arms momentarily. His numbed limbs fell to his sides, pricking painfully as the blood began circulating again. The knife at his throat bit deeper against his skin as the other hands began pulling a heavy course garment over his head. He felt his arms being forced into the long loose sleeves. When they were finished, his arms were twisted behind his back once more and bound tightly. A hard kick in the small of his back sent him sprawling against the ground, face first.

Before he had time to brace himself, feet and fists were suddenly pounding his body. Starsky curled up in a fetal position, tucking his head down against his chest, in a vain attempt to protect the more vulnerable parts of his antimony. A grunt of pain escaped his lips but he refused to cry out as the vicious attack continued until he finally lost consciousness.

Sometime later, he slowly regained consciousness, moaning softly as the pain in his battered body crept into his mind. He could taste the blood in his mouth and feel the blood that dripped down the side of his face. His throat was dry and parched as he swallowed, trying to work up enough saliva to spit the blood out of his mouth.

A gentle hand at the back of his head and the scent of lilacs alerted him to the woman’s presence at his side. He felt the rim of a tin cup touching his lips and opened his mouth, drinking greedily the water that she offered. When he had drunk his fill, he turned his head away, ignoring her. A sharp slap across his cheek stunned him, demanding his undivided attention.

“Don’t try to ignore me, David,” the woman ordered. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“I wouldn’t want it to look like I didn’t appreciate your hospitality.” Starsky growled through tightly clenched teeth. “Is this the way you treat all your guests?”

“Only the special ones.” The woman replied with a laugh that sent a chill down his spine. Her touch turned gentle as she caressed his cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you, David but it’s not up to me.”

“Yeah? Who’s it up to then?”

“You ask too many questions. Sometimes it’s better not to know.” She said cryptically.

“Terrific,” Starsky muttered sullenly. “I don’t suppose a guy could get anything to eat around here. I seem to have missed breakfast this morning.” Even as he asked the question, he already knew the answer.

“I’m afraid not. Food is the last thing that should concern you right now.”

“Tell that to my stomach,” Starsky quipped. “It has a mind of its own.” His voice slurred slightly as Starsky felt a sudden wave of vertigo wash over him. In spite of the blindfold, he felt dizzy and disoriented, light headed and nauseated. Groaning, he realized that there must have been some kind of drug in the water. As he faded into the darkness, he heard the woman say,

“Soon it will be time to begin. Sleep for now, my dark knight.”

Starsky felt her lips gently brushing against his forehead as he fell back into the void. His mind was tormented by strange nightmares, images of faceless creatures chasing him through the darkness. Hands that looked more like claws reaching out to grab him, hurting him. His muscles cramped severely, pulling his knees up against his chest as he struggled to draw enough air into his lungs to breathe comfortably. In his drugged sleep, his head tossed restlessly back and forth as soft whimpers escaped from his throat.

In his dream, Starsky found himself standing at the edge of a steep cliff overlooking a bottomless pit. Behind him, he felt the danger closing in, crowding him closer and closer to the edge of the abyss. Loose gravel shifted beneath his feet and he suddenly felt himself falling forward with a silent scream of terror ripping from his chest.

Starsky awoke with a panicked start, cold sweat bathing his face. His heart was pounding with fear and the air around him seemed colder than ever. Through his drugged haze, he could hear the monotonous drone of several voices echoing in the background.

As his mind cleared and the words they were saying became clear, Starsky felt the terror that clutched at his heart and invaded his mind.

“Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon…” the eerie chanting filled the air around him plunging Starsky back into the midst of his worst nightmare. A silent scream echoed in his mind as his body began to tremble, unable to control the overwhelming fear that swept over him.

Chapter 7

Starsky tried to swallow. His mouth and throat were parched and dry. He was so thirsty but he was afraid to drink anything that was offered. He knew anything he ate or drank would probably be drugged. It was all part of the game, an effective way to keep him calm and under control.

He forced his eyes open just a slit, enough to see his surroundings but not enough to alert anyone to the fact that he was awake. He was lying on something hard with his hands stretched out to the side and securely bound. His feet were bound tightly and another rope was wrapped around his waist, securely holding him in one position.

Starsky realized that he seemed to be in a large cavernous room that was dimly lit by the flickering candles set around the platform where he was lying. The monotone chanting drilled into his brain, making his head throb with pain. He was vaguely aware of several shadowy figures gathered in a semi-circle several feet away, partially hidden in the darkness.

No! God please! Not again! Not this! The thought raced through his mind. The last time Simon Marcus’ cult of bloodthirsty followers had abducted him, Starsky had barely survived the ordeal. He’d suffered from nightmares and irrational fears for months afterwards. The lingering effects of the trauma had left scars that still haunted him to this day.

A woman stepped forward into the circle of light that surrounded Starsky. She was breathtakingly beautiful with clear, unblemished skin, dark brown eyes and long unruly dark curls that hung half way down her back. Unlike most of Marcus’ followers, she wore a white robe with the inverted red cross on the front instead of the customary black garment. Even before she spoke, Starsky knew this was the woman he’d spoken to earlier.

“You may as well open your eyes the rest of the way, David,” she said in a soft deceptive voice that still managed to make her words sound like an order. “I know you’re awake.” A faint smile crossed her lips as Starsky reluctantly obeyed. “From the look on your face, I can see that some of your questions have been answered.”

“I still have one.” Starsky said, his voice sounding hoarse and raspy.

“What’s that?” she asked, arching her brow inquisitively?

“Who the hell are you?”

“Is that really so important?”

“Humor me.”

She took a step closer until she was standing beside Starsky. She slipped her hand inside the folds of the despised robe he wore and fondled his genitals making Starsky jerk involuntarily in response to her touch. Leaning down so that she was speaking directly into his ear, she whispered in a seductive voice, “I go by many names…Morning Star, Dark Angel,” she paused, squeezing his testicles painfully. A hiss of pain escaped his lips, as she added, “But my real name is Josie. Josie Marcus, and I am here to do my father’s bidding.”

Starsky felt his heart pounding frantically in his chest. If this woman was Simon Marcus’ daughter, as she claimed, she was as dangerous and, possibly as psychotic, as her father was. Starsky knew that whatever they had in mind for him would be painful and degrading. He hoped he had the stamina and the courage to endure it.

Josie removed her hand after another painful squeeze that made Starsky yelp in pain. Picking up one of the candles that surrounded the platform, she held it in one hand and held her other hand over the flame, without flinching, even as the smell of burned flesh filled the air. “Let the ceremony begin!” she said loudly, pulling back her hand and replacing the candle in its holder.

Instinctively, Starsky pulled against the ropes holding him prisoner to no avail. Slowly, the other disciples came forward. The first one in line, a tall thin man with a hooked nose, reached out and ripped open the front of Starsky’s robe, baring his chest. Picking up one of the candles, he chanted Simon’s name as he tipped the candle and let the hot wax drip on Starsky’s exposed skin.

Starsky flinched but did not utter a sound as the wax burned his flesh. One by one, the followers stepped forward, each of them taking a candle and following a similar ritual. Sweat glistened on Starsky’s face and chest, but he refused to cry out in pain. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. By the time the line of followers had finished, Starsky’s chest was streaked with dried wax and he was breathing heavily. The robed figures returned to the shadows and resumed their constant mindless chanting.

Josie stepped forward once more and leaned over him, looking directly into his eyes. “Your death had been pre-ordained. My father has seen it in his dreams. The Black Knight will fall and bring about the end of the White Knight.” She leaned closer and Starsky cried out in pain as she sank her teeth into the side of his neck. When she straightened up, her mouth was stained with his blood. “Your blood will be spilled on the holy altar and give us strength.”

The man with the hooked nose stepped forward again and suddenly grabbed Starsky’s head in a headlock, preventing him from moving away as Josie help an ornate silver goblet to his lips. Starsky clenched his mouth shut, refusing to drink, until the man used one hand to pinch his nostrils shut, forcing him to open his mouth in order to breathe. As soon as he opened his lips, Josie poured the contents of the goblet into his mouth. Starsky was forced to either swallow the thick, putrid smelling liquid to keep from choking.

Laughing, Josie threw the goblet against the wall behind Starsky’s head as the man released his head. “Sleep well, Dark Knight.” She whispered, brushing her lips against Starsky’s mouth. “When the moon rises, we will continue.”

Starsky’s vision began to blur and loud buzzing sound filled his head as she turned and walked away, followed by the other disciples. Almost immediately, severe cramps knotted his muscles, causing painful spasms. Since he was still tied to their makeshift altar, he couldn’t curl up into a fetal position like he wanted to in order to ease the pain. All he could do was suffer through the debilitating spasms. Deep moans escaped from his throat but there was nobody around to hear him.

The cramps were accompanied by gut-wrenching nausea. Starsky turned his head, retching violently, but there was nothing in his stomach to bring up except the bitter taste of bile and stomach acid. His suffering seemed to continue for hours, leaving him weak and exhausted. Finally, the pain eased up enough for him to fall into a drugged stupor.

Slowly, Starsky became aware of movement in the room around him. Through heavy lidded eyes, he watched as one of the black robed figures built a large fire in a pit near the foot of the platform. He could hear the chanting as the rest of the congregation filed into the room and gathered into the familiar semi-circle around him. Josie stepped out of the darkness and moved to his side.

“Are you well rested, David?” she asked with a sneer. “I hope so. It’s time for us to continue.”

“You’ll never get away with this. Even if you kill me, the rest of the department will hunt you down and you’ll end up in jail right along with your father.”

“Even if that happens, it will be too late for you. My father’s will shall prevail. His prophecy will be fulfilled. The Black Knight will meet his destiny.”

“You’re as crazy as your father.” Starsky said with more bravado than he actually felt. “Murder is still murder.”

“Only to the people in your world. Our world is the kingdom of hell where my father rules.”

“You got that right.” Starsky said. He regretted his words immediately when he saw Josie’s eyes darken threateningly. She reached out and grabbed a handful of his curls, pulling back on his head until his throat was bared. Leaning down, she sank her teeth into his flesh once more, drawing blood. Starsky yelled out in a combination of rage and pain. Releasing his hair and straightening up, she spit a mouthful of blood in his face.

“Don’t provoke me, David. You have no idea how painful I can make things for you.”

“Oh, I think I do. I got a taste of that the last time you lunatics grabbed me.” Starsky said. “You didn’t break me then and you won’t break me now.” Starsky hoped that his words held a grain of truth and were not just the ramblings of a frightened man.

“Brave words from a man in your position.” Josie said smugly. She smiled. A cold dangerous smile. “We’ll see how long it takes you to regret saying that.” She reached into the deep folds of her robe and pulled out a knife with a long thin blade, holding it so that Starsky could see it clearly.

“You gonna use that on me?” he challenged her recklessly. “Go ahead. I don’t go down that easy.”

“You know,” she said, continuing as if he had not spoken. “There are so many delightful ways to cause pain. Excruciating pain.” she leaned forward and licked some of the blood off his face, “I’m going to enjoy hearing you scream…”

“Why don’t you just fucking kill me and get it over with, you crazy bitch?” Starsky snarled, his patience worn thin by her taunting.

“That’s not the way the game is played.” She said with a shrill laugh. “It’s played by my rules, not yours.”

“Don’t you mean your father’s rules?”

Josie shrugged, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “My father’s not here but I am still his avenger.”

Starsky closed his eyes, weary of playing word games with her. He resigned himself to his fate. Where are you, Hutch? I need you! I need you! His eyes flew open and a scream ripped from his throat as he felt a deep searing pain in his left shoulder. Josie smiled as she twisted the blade of the knife that she had plunged into his body. Starsky yelled in pain as she twisted the knife again before pulling it back out. The blackness settled around him and he retreated into it without protest.

Chapter 8

The sensation of something soft and furry brushing against his face jerked Starsky awake. He screamed involuntarily when his eyes flew open to face the large rat crawling on the stone altar beside him. Startled by the sound, the rat squealed in protest and scurried away, disappearing into the darkness. Starsky took several deep noisy breathes, trying to calm his racing heart. A shudder swept through his frame. He hated rats, bats and other nocturnal creatures of the night.

His gaze drifted towards the ceiling, seeking out the dark shadowy corners where he could hear the fluttering of wings and hear the soft squeaking sounds. He hoped those flying rodents stayed in the corners and away from him. Bats and rats were not a combination he was capable of dealing with right now.

He tried to clear the cobwebs out of his head so he could focus on his condition. The lingering effects of the drugs left him groggy and disoriented. The knife wound in his shoulder throbbed with each beat of his heart and his throat hurt where Josie had bitten him hard enough to draw blood. He couldn't take a deep breath because of the sharp pain in his side from his cracked ribs. His whole body felt like one giant bruise. A full bladder added to his discomfort, demanding attention.

"Hutch…" the word slipped from his dry cracked lips before he could stop himself, the sound of the name bringing him some small measure of comfort. Starsky knew that the blond dynamo would be going nuts searching for him, threatening and intimidating anyone who might be able to give him any information on Starsky's whereabouts. Hutch had found him before, just in the nick of time, and all Starsky could do was pray for that particular miracle to repeat itself.

Josie suddenly appeared out of the darkness. Starsky flinched as she approached, warily of her touch, a touch that brought pain without any pleasure. She smiled faintly as she reached out and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"Poor David," she said "Aren't you feeling well?"

"Fuck you…" Starsky muttered, too tired to be polite or to play nice.

"Brave words coming from a man in your position." Josie reminded him, her laughter filling the air. "Are you really that brave, David? Or are you scared shitless?"

"I'm not afraid to die." Starsky told her, the intensity of his gaze remaining steady and confident. "My death won't change anything."

"Oh, but it will. Your death will be our rebirth into our new kingdom."

"Lady, you need help. All my death will do is get you a prison sentence." A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "And you're crazy if you think my partner won't come after you. He'll follow you into hell, if that's what it takes, to avenge my death."

"But without you by his side, the White Knight will lose. Together, the two of you are unstoppable but, alone, you are just ordinary men." A hard look twisted her lovely face into something primal and evil. "The two of you should never have taken my father away from us. His dreams continue to show us the way and his dreams for your fate are now my dreams."

"Terrific…" Starsky muttered in a resigned voice. He knew there was no way to reach her. She was as lost to reason as the rest of the unholy disciples that followed her father's visions. As his daughter, she had been trained since childhood to follow in his footsteps, her mind twisted and filled with darkness.

"I brought you some company so you wouldn't be alone until later when we continue the ceremony." Josie said softly, a demented look in her eyes that unnerved Starsky.

He watched as she reached inside the folds of her robe. His breath caught in his throat and his heart began to pound frantically when she pulled a snake from beneath the robe and gently laid it on his stomach. The snake was a mature adult, measuring almost two feet long with a heavy body and triangular shaped head. It was a pale tan color with darker blotches on the back and a thick tail with a rattle at the end.

Starsky held his breath and remained as still as possible, not wanting to agitate the reptile as it began to crawl over his body. Sweat beaded on his face and dripped into his eyes from the strain of remaining motionlessly. He barely noticed as Josie disappeared into the shadows. Starsky tried not to flinch as the snake crawled closer to his face, the tongue flicking in and out of the mouth. After what seemed like an eternity to the bound man, the snake slithered down over the edge of the altar and disappeared.

Starsky let out the breath he'd been holding in a long whoosh of air and tried to calm down. The front of his robe was wet where his bladder had released, unnoticed, during his encounter with the snake. He knew he was lucky that he hadn't been bitten. The snake was just another way to torment him, a mental abuse designed to drive him closer to the edge of his tolerance.

Damn it, Hutch! Where are you? Get me out of this nightmare before I lose my mind! Starsky closed his eyes and tried to reach out with his mind, searching for that psychic connection that the two detectives seemed to share. Images of Hutch danced through his mind, helping to ground him to reality.

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Back in the city, Hutch had been searching relentlessly for any clue to his partner's abduction. Most of his usual contacts and snitches claimed to know nothing about Starsky's kidnapping. Even Huggy Bear was coming up empty. Hutch had finally returned to headquarters to go over old case files once more, looking for anything he might have missed earlier that would help him to find his missing partner. Instinct told Hutch that Starsky was in grave danger and that time was running out for the dark haired man.

When the phone beside him rang, he picked it up automatically, barking into the receiver, "Hutchinson."

"The Black Knight is with the Dark Angel." a barely audible voice whispered in his ear.

"Who is this?" Hutch snapped, frantically motioning to another detective in the squad room to put a trace on the call. "Where is my partner?"

"The White Knight will fail. The Black Knight is no more." There was a sharp click in his ear as the mysterious caller hung up. Hutch slammed down the receiver in anger and frustration. He knew they hadn't stayed on the line long enough for the call to be traced even before the other detective trying to trace the call shook his head negatively.

Bouncing to his feet, Hutch stormed into Dobey's office without bothering to knock. The burly black man looked up from his desk with a glare, bellowing,

"Don't you remember how to knock?"

"Captain, I just got a call from someone who knows where Starsky is." Hutch said "But they didn't identify themselves."

"Did you trace the call?"

"Not enough time." Hutch said, as he slumped down into a chair in front of the desk, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

"Did they say anything useful?"

"Some rubbish about the Black Knight being with the Dark Angel." Hutch grumbled. Suddenly, his face lit up as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Wait a minute," he said, thinking out loud. "They said the Black Knight and the Dark Angel. And something about The White Knight failing, that the Black Knight was no more." Hutch's eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked at Dobey solemnly. "Simon Marcus called me the White Knight before. Starsky is obviously the Black Knight."

"Marcus? I thought you checked him out. He's still in prison, along with the rest of his crazy cult that snatched Starsky before."

"But there are more of them out there still walking around free." Hutch pointed out. "It has to be them again! All I need to do is find out who the Dark Angel is."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I'm going to go see Marcus."

"Are you sure that's such a good idea? He didn't give you any straight answers the last time, just more of his infernal riddles."

"But once we figured out the riddle, we found Starsky." Hutch said in a determined voice. "Cap, it's all I've got right now. I have to check it out."

"What if Marcus refuses to see you?"

"He's too conceited for that. If he is behind this, he'll want me to know about it. It's all part of his sick game. He likes to fuck with your mind."

"All right," Dobey said after considering it for a moment. "I'll call the warden at the prison and let him know that you're on your way. Be careful!"

"Always am, Captain," Hutch said, as he shoved himself to his feet and hurried out of the office. Hutch felt a fear deep inside that he refused to acknowledge. He remembered much too clearly what kind of shape Starsky had been in, both physically and mentally, after the last time he'd been abducted by Marcus' band of sadists. It had taken him months to recover fully. This time, he might not be as lucky.

Hutch made a silent vow to find Starsky, no matter what it took, even if he had to sell his soul to the devil that would be a small price to pay to ensure the safety of his partner. And, God forbid, if he was too late and Starsky was dead, then Hutch would bring his body home for a proper burial. Then he would hunt down the scum responsible for Starsky's death and make sure they paid and paid dearly for their sins. If Starsky was dead, the only thing Hutch would have to live for was revenge. The White Knight would become the Avenging Angel of Death.

Two hours later, Hutch was sitting in a visiting room at San Quentin, waiting for Marcus to be brought from his cell. Finally, the door opened and the cult leader was lead into the room. He hadn't changed much during his five years in prison. His long dark hair was still greasy and unkempt, his beard full, his eyes cold and empty. He didn't seem surprised to see Hutch as the guard shoved him down in the chair facing the blond detective.

"Detective Hutchinson," He drawled in that deceptively gentle voice. "What brings you here? Have you lost something important?"

"I don't have time for your games, Marcus." Hutch growled. "Where's my partner? Where's Starsky?"

"You've misplaced the Black Knight," Marcus said with a smug smile. "What makes you think I can tell you how to find him?"

"Because, somehow, you're behind whatever happened to him." Hutch snapped in an irritated voice. "Who's the Dark Angel?"

"I know of no Dark Angel, only the beautiful Morning Star." Marcus said cryptically. He folded his hands on the table in front of him and smiled serenely. But, Hutch knew that it was all an act.

"I found him before and I'll find him again!" Hutch said in a menacing voice. "And if he's already dead, then even these bars won't be strong enough to protect you from me!"

"Such strong threats from an officer of the law." Marcus said in an undisturbed voice. "But tell me; is the White Knight that strong without the Black Knight at his side?

I think not."

"Stuff it, you bastard!" Hutch snarled, "And tell me where he is!"

"If the Black Knight has joined the Dark Angel, then God's house is in shambles.

With the light comes the darkness and the Black Knight will be no more. Then the White Knight shall be alone to conquer the brethren." Marcus said, his eyes glittering with insanity. "My dreams will be fulfilled and the Black Knight will meet his destiny on the cross of a God he denies."

"Get this piece of scum out of here!" Hutch ordered the guard impatiently, realizing that he wouldn't get anything more useful out of Marcus, just another cryptic riddle to figure out.

MIND GAMES

Chapter 9

Time lost all meaning for Starsky. Minutes became hours, hours became days. He could no longer remember a time when he had not been trapped here in his own personal version of hell. His body ached with pain, his tongue so dry and swollen from thirst that he could barely speak. His hands and fingers were numb from the ropes that impaired his circulation and held him prisoner and his humiliation was compounded as his body relieved itself indiscriminately. To maintain his sanity, his mind had focused on one thing and one thing only, the image of his partner's face.

He could hear the voices chanting and feel the hands touching his body in places he didn't want to be touched. But in his drugged mind, he could no longer be sure if the hands were real or just drug induced hallucinations. Pleasure turned to pain, the hands squeezing, pinching and slapping, and then the pain turned to pleasure once more as the hands fondled, caressed and stroked.

He winced in pain as the hands turned to knives, cutting his skin. He could feel the blood, warm and thick, running from the wounds. Then a tongue, hot and wet, was licking at the blood and a blood stained mouth was kissing his lips fiercely with a hunger that could not be denied. Too weak to resist, Starsky passively let the hungry mouth claim him.

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Hutch knew there was a hidden message somewhere in Marcus' riddle, all he had to do was figure it out like he did before. After leaving the prison, instead of returning to headquarters, he made a detour, seeking out the woman he knew might be able to give him at least a few answers.

The small house was in a poor section of the city but it was well cared for with brightly colored flowers bordering the steps that led to the front porch. Hutch's soft rap on the door was answered almost immediately by a petite strawberry blonde with large soulful blue eyes.

"Hello, Gail." Hutch said with a faint smile. "Can I come in? I need your help."

"It's Simon, isn't it?" Gail asked in a frightened voice as she stepped aside and let him enter. Even after almost four years, the mere mention of the cult leader's name was enough to make her quiver with fear.

"They have my partner again." Hutch told her solemnly. "They have Starsky." This woman had helped to save Starsky's life the last time. Hutch prayed she could somehow help do it again.

"Oh, no!" Gail exclaimed, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "How can I help?"

"Who is the Dark Angel?" Hutch asked, watching her reactions carefully.

Gail's face turned noticeably pale and her hands began to shake as she nervously ran her fingers through her long strands of hair. In a voice that was barely above a whisper, she said,

"If the Dark Angel has surfaced, your partner is in grave danger. She's fulfilling the prophecy."

"What prophecy?"

"Simon's prophecy. His dream of your partner's death."

"Who's the Morning Star?" Hutch asked, remembering Simon's reference to that name when Hutch questioned him about the Dark Angel.

"The Morning Star and the Dark Angel are the same." Gail told him patiently as if explaining a well-known fact to a child. "Two halves of the same whole, like you and your partner. One side light and one side dark. She is the high priestess of the coven, second only to Marcus in the power she wields."

"What does she plan to do with Starsky?"

"The Black Knight's blood must be spilled and joined with the Dark Angel so she can rule her father's kingdom."

"Her father's kingdom?" Hutch repeated in a stunned voice. His eyes darkened as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Are you telling me that she's Simon's daughter?"

"She is the Devil's own, a spawn of evil that knows no boundaries." Gail told him softly. "She will do her father's will. The Black Knight must die and it must be at the hand of the Dark Angel."

"How do I stop her?"

"You can't stop her. She won't allow you to interfere with the ritual."

"What ritual?"

"The ritual of death. The joining of The Dark Angel and the Black Knight in a ceremony of blood."

"Gail, do you know how I can find them?"

"No, I'm sorry." Gail said in a genuinely remorseful voice. "The only place I was ever at was the old zoo and they would never go back there. It would be too obvious."

"Is there anything else you can remember that might help me find my partner before it's too late?" Hutch asked desperately. He knew that he was grasping at straws but he didn't care, not as long as it helped him find Starsky in time.

"The ceremony will take place tomorrow night during the eclipse of the moon. You have until then to find your partner alive." Gail said.

Hutch remembered Simon's words about 'with the light comes the darkness', could he have been referring to the eclipse that Gail mentioned? It was a slim lead at best, but it was still another piece to the puzzle. Hutch absently pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He could feel a migraine coming on.

"Are you okay?" Gail asked in a concerned voice, noticing the tall blond's grimace of pain. "Can I get you something? A glass of water? An aspirin?"

"No, thank you," Hutch said with forced politeness. "I have to go. I have to find Starsky before it's too late."

"Good luck." Gail said, stepping out onto the tiny porch with him as he left the house. She stood there, watching as he walked back to his car and drove out of sight. Then, with a heavy sigh, she turned and disappeared back into the house to pack. It was time to leave this place and never come back. Talking about Simon had brought the evil back into her life and into the safe haven she had tried so desperately to create for herself.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Starsky coughed weakly, trying to dislodge the congestion that was clogging his lungs, making him wheeze with every breath. His head pounded and his vision was blurry and unfocused. He knew that his body couldn't withstand much more abuse. With each new attack, he was growing weaker and more disoriented. Hutch, where are you? Come and get me, buddy…I wanna go home. I wanna go home. I don't wanna be here anymore.

Please, don't let them hurt me anymore. He held the image of his partner's face firmly in his mind as he retreated deep inside of himself and away from the pain of his battered body. He didn't notice when Josie came into the chamber.

Moving quietly, like a shadow in the mist, she crossed to the altar where he lay, smiling down at her prize. Reaching out to brush back a sweat soaked curl from the deeply bruised and scratched face, she whispered, "Soon it will be time, my love, for us to join together in the new kingdom. Until then, you must be strong and endure the pain. Pain is the greatest expression of love." She bent down to kiss the swollen mouth with a rare display of gentleness.

Straightening up, she pulled a needle from her pocket and held it in the air, depressing the plunger to get out the air bubbles. She stabbed the needle into the side of Starsky's neck and injected the drugs into his system. The dark haired man didn't even flinch or open his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest the only visible sign that he still lived.

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Hutch returned to headquarters and filled Captain Dobey in on his conversations with both Marcus and with Gail. He repeated Marcus' cryptic message and Dobey painstakingly wrote down each word. Hutch had called Huggy and he would be joining them so the three men could try to decipher the riddle before it was too late. Hopefully, the answer would lead them to Starsky's whereabouts just like it had the last time. Minnie brought in a supply of coffee and sandwiches. She decided to stay and help solve the riddle.

Hutch read the riddle out loud while everyone else wrote down the words. When he finished, he said, "Gail said the ceremony would take place during the eclipse of the moon tomorrow night, so I think that's the answer to 'with the light comes the darkness' and we already know that the Black Knight refers to Starsky and the White Knight refers to me."

"So, the Black Knight will be no more is talking about Starsky dying…" Minnie said thoughtfully. "And the White Knight shall be alone to conquer the Brethren could mean that Hutch will be left alone to go after Simon's followers by himself."

'That makes sense." Dobey said gruffly "But what the hell does the rest of it mean?"

"God's house could mean a church," Huggy suggested, "Maybe he's telling us that Starsky is being held in a church somewhere."

"God's house is in shambles…" Hutch repeated slowly, lost in thought. "Maybe he's talking about a church that isn't being used anymore. One that's abandoned or has been shut down."

"Do you have any idea how many churches there are like that in the city?" Dobey growled in a frustrated voice.

"It wouldn't be in any populated area." Minnie said, "They wouldn't want anyone knowing what was going on. It'd have to be in a deserted neighborhood or somewhere pretty secluded for them to carry out their rituals without being noticed."

"I think Minnie's onto something." Hutch said, nodding his head in agreement. "We need a map with the location of every church that fits that description in the city."

"What if they're not in the city?" Huggy said glumly.

"I don't think they'd leave the area." Hutch said slowly. "I think they want to be close enough to know what we're doing….they'd want to know if we were getting too close."

"I'll start checking on all the abandoned and deserted Churches and cross matching their locations." Minnie said, "You guys keep working on that riddle. If they're planning to do away with Starsky tomorrow night, he's running out of time."

"Thanks, Minnie." Hutch said with a grateful smile as the petite policewoman stood up to leave the room.

Minnie smiled, giving the big blond a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Just find Curly before it's too late." She said. "That boy gets himself into a peck of trouble without you around to keep an eye on that gorgeous tush."

Huggy chuckled lightly as Minnie left the room. Putting their heads together, the three men continued to work on solving the last line of the riddle.

"The Black Knight shall meet his destiny on the cross of a God he denies." Dobey read solemnly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" They all fell silent as they tried to figure out the last part of the puzzle.

"Starsky's Jewish." Huggy suddenly stated.

"So?" Dobey snapped in irritation. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Huggy ignored Dobey's comment and explained himself. "Starsky's Jewish…his religious beliefs are different than most people," When Dobey and Hutch both stared at him blankly, he added patiently, "That could be what Simon means by the Black Knight meeting his destiny on the cross of a God he denies. He could be referring to the fact that Starsky is Jewish."

"Oh, my God!" Hutch exclaimed, his face turning pale as he took a stumbling step forward, bracing himself against the edge of Dobey's desk. Looking at his two friends with stricken eyes, he whispered hoarsely, "I think those lunatics are planning to crucify Starsky on a cross."

MIND GAMES

Chapter 10

A thin smile tugged at the edges of Josie's mouth as she silently watched the final preparations for the ceremony later that night. A seven-foot tall wooden pole was secured into the ground in the center of the chamber. After Starsky was tied to the crossbeam, it would be secured to the pole.

She stole a glance at the altar where the dark haired man lay, his eyes closed, his chest heaving as he struggled with each breath. Starsky no longer responded to the pain inflicted upon him by the various cult members. Even when his eyes were open, he stared without blinking, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. His mind had slipped over the edge into a dark place that nobody could reach. Not that it mattered. His fate was already sealed. Tonight, he would die at Josie's hand and then they both would be free.

Josie walked over to the stone platform and reached out to run her fingers gently down the battered chest. She could feel the faint quiver that ran through the muscles, the only sign that at least a part of Starsky still sensed her presence.

"It's almost over, David," she whispered, brushing a light kiss over the swollen cheek. "Tonight you will meet your destiny and I will claim what is mine. Your White Knight won't be able to save you this time."

Josie sighed as she straightened up and returned her attention to the preparations for the ritual. Over the past four days, she had actually grown fond of the dark haired man lying on the altar beside her. In spite of the numerous tortures and drugs he'd endured, his spirit had never been broken entirely. Josie admired his strength and his courage. That was why he was chosen as the offering, the blood sacrifice that would ensure the continuing existence of the coven.

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Hutch spread the map of the city out on the table, his eyes seeking out the locations of the deserted and abandoned churches that Minnie had painstakingly marked on it. Huggy and Captain Dobey stood beside him, examining the map, as Hutch recited the addresses in a loud, clear voice, fixing them firmly in his mind.

"These two are out." Hutch said, indicating two addresses near the edge of the city limits.

"How come?" Huggy asked with mild curiosity. It had always amazed him the way Hutch's analytical mind could pull together the pieces of a puzzle with very few clues to solve a complex case.

"Because they're too close to shopping centers and other businesses." Hutch explained. "There's too much chance of someone seeing them or hearing something."

"That still leaves a hell of a lot of churches to check out." Dobey pointed out with a disgruntled grunt. "Half of the men in the department are on stand-by, ready to go and look for Starsky. All you have to do is say the word."

"We'll divide the rest of the addresses into sectors and assign a team to each section." Hutch said. "Each man will be equipped with a radio so we can keep in touch. The first team to find anything that even looks like it could be the place where they have Starsky is to call it in and wait for me to get there before they go in." Dobey didn't even consider arguing. He knew that Hutch needed to be there when they found Starsky.

"I'll call in the teams so you can brief them." Dobey said gruffly, heading for his office.

Huggy walked over to the coffee pot and poured two steaming cups, handing one to Hutch. Hutch took a sip of the bitter brew, barely noticing the taste. His headache had intensified to a full-blown migraine, but he ignored the throbbing pain and the nausea. He didn't have time to deal with his own pain right now, his only concern was finding Starsky.

"Hang in there, Blondie," Huggy said encouragingly. "You'll find him."

"What kind of shape is he gonna be in even if I do?" Hutch asked in a deceptively calm and quiet voice. He turned stricken eyes on his friend. "They only had him twenty-four hours the last time, Hug and that almost drove him crazy. It took him months to get over what they did to him then. They've had him almost five days this time…five days! God knows what they've done to him. Even if he's still alive, he still may not make it this time."

"Come on, Hutch…Starsky's as tough as they come. He'll be okay. You have to believe that. He needs you now more than ever." Huggy stopped speaking, unable to continue as he worried about both of his friends. Starsky and Hutch were so close, one couldn't function without the other one. If anything happened to Starsky, if he didn't make it this time, Hutch would never make it on his own. Starsky's death would mean Hutch's death too and Huggy would lose the two best friends a man could ever ask for.

Within the hour, the squad room was crowded with men who had answered Captain Dobey's call for searchers. Over thirty men had responded, volunteering their time to help find their missing comrade. They were quickly divided up into teams of 4 men and assigned specific locations to search.

Hutch's own team would search four churches on the north side of the city. They were all within a fifteen-mile radius of one another, in a rundown, abandoned section of town. The perfect place to torture someone without being discovered accidentally. The first two churches were little more than rubble, only pieces of wood and mortar, the symbols of God long abandoned and left to decay. Several other teams had already reported in with similar results on the churches they had checked.

Dobey watched Hutch's shoulders sag with defeat with each negative report he received. Time was running out for Starsky and they all knew it. There was less than three hours left before the eclipse, which according to Gail, would signify Starsky's death. The third church on Hutch's list was deserted and appeared to have been that way for quite some time. Frustrated, he slammed his fist against the stone wall of the altar room, not even noticing as the skin on his knuckles split open.

"Zebra three, Zebra three…" a voice crackled over the radio that hung on Dobey's hip. Grabbing the two-way, Dobey pushed the transmit button and said, "This is Dobey. Who is this?"

"It's Babcock. I think we might have something."

"Where are you?" Hutch demanded, tearing the radio our of Dobey's hand, his fingers gripping it so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"We're at the church on Lakeland Road, out near Lucky Harbor. We can see lights from inside the church, it looks like torches, but we can't see what's going on in there."

Hutch did some quick calculations in his head. It would take him at least half an hour to get to the location. "Stay out of sight and don't move in until I get there." Hutch ordered, "Not unless you have to."

"Gotcha, Hutch." Babcock acknowledged.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Josie fingered the folds of the long blood red robe she wore with the inverted black cross on the front. All around her, the rest of the cult members stood chanting softly, "Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon…" In their black robes, they lurked in the darkness, barely seen shadows, their faces hidden by the hoods of their robes.

She turned her attention to the stone altar where two disciples, Matthew and John, were preparing Starsky for the ceremony. They had stripped him of his tattered robe and washed away the dried blood from his battered body. Starsky's eyes were open but he showed no response to their manipulations of his limbs. Finished with their duties, the two disciples pulled Starsky roughly to his feet.

Starsky's body sagged, his knees refusing to hold him upright, his head falling forward with his chin resting against his chest. The other two men, supporting his weight between them, half carried, half dragged the limp body across the floor. They let Starsky's body fall to the ground at their feet, then knelt beside him to pull him over onto his back with his shoulders resting on the cross beam lying in the dirt. Pulling Starsky's arms out to the side, they used thin pieces of rawhide to lash his wrists securely to the wooden beam.

Matthew walked around behind the center beam and grabbed the rope that was threaded through a large eyebolt at the top of the pole. Three other followers stepped forward to help him pull on the rope, lifting Starsky's body and the cross beam off the floor and into the air. When Starsky's feet were two feet off the ground, Matthew instructed the other men to keep the rope secure while he climbed a ladder leaning against the beam and used an intricate set of bolts and latches to fasten the cross beam securely to the center pole, assembling the cross. When he had finished, he nodded at the men below and they tied off the rope securely.

Gravity pulled Starsky's body down, his weight supported by his bound wrists, putting an unbearable strain on his shoulders. The position also made it almost impossible for Starsky to draw a deep breath, especially with his breathing already compromised by several broken ribs. Even in his semi-conscious state, a deep groan escaped from his lips from the pull on his shoulders joints.

Somewhere in the depths of his pain-fogged mind, Starsky knew the end was drawing near. He felt the chill on his exposed skin and the deep pain in his chest. He knew that he was no longer lying on the altar but he was too groggy to understand what was going on around him. He was too tired to fight anymore. Death would be his release from the pain and he prayed that it would come quickly, putting him out of his misery. He no longer held out any hope for a dramatic last minute rescue. Even Hutch would be too late to save him now. Starsky had accepted the inevitability of his own death and he was ready for it. He had faced death too many times in his life to be afraid of dying. He had made peace with his God, he was ready to be reunited with his father and his beloved Terri.

Josie stepped forward, eyeing the broken man hanging on the cross before her. In her hand, she held a knife with a long, razor sharp blade. Raising the knife, she pressed the point of the blade against Starsky's hip. He cried out as she dug the point of the blade deep into his skin and cut a wide gash into the exposed flesh. Matthew stepped forward and handed her a silver goblet. She held it, catching some of the warm blood that flowed from the wound in the cup. Whispering her father's name softly under her breath, she tipped the cup and drank the blood. Now, the blood of the Black Knight would flow through her veins, making her strong and joining them together as one united soul.

Moving to the opposite side, she made a similar gash in his other hip, watching with hooded eyes as the blood dripped to the ground beneath Starsky's feet. Even in his disoriented state, Starsky's mind still registered the pain of the knife slicing into his body.

Josie stepped back with a satisfied smile. She knew that in Starsky's weakened condition, the blood loss would soon render him unconscious. Josie had studied crucifixion as a form of torture. She knew that with his whole body weight supported by his out stretched arms, Starsky was having severe difficulty inhaling due to a hyper-expansion of his lungs. The tremendous strain put on his wrists, arms and shoulders from being suspended the way he was would cause a dislocation of his shoulder and elbow joints. If death did not come from asphyxiation, it would be caused by physical shock and exhaustion. It was a slow and agonizing way to die which suited her purposes perfectly. It was also a ritual designed to strike terror into the hearts of the cult members, playing on the childhood fears that lingered in their minds.

Josie began chanting her father's name with the others, watching and waiting for Starsky to take his last breath. Then his body would be cut down and left for the animals to dispose of while the cult disappeared into the shadows.

Chapter 11

The black and white braked to a halt and Hutch was out of the vehicle before it came to a complete stop. Dobey followed close behind as they made their way through the cover of the trees to where Babcock and his team waited. Through the thicket, the remains of the deserted church could be seen. Glimmers of light, obviously from torches, flickered in the partially boarded windows.

"Okay," Hutch said, taking a moment to survey the situation. "We're gonna move in. Babcock, take your men and move around to the back. I'm taking the front." He glanced around at the faces of the men around him. "And whatever you do, make sure you don't get Starsky caught in the crossfire. I'll give you five minutes to get into position and then I'm going in."

"I'll call in the rest of the teams and have an ambulance waiting to move in as soon as we see if Starsky's in there or not." Dobey said. Hutch exchanged a long look with his commanding officer, mentally completing the thoughts that Dobey hadn't put into words. "If he's still alive…"

Unholstering his gun, Hutch flipped off the safety and cautiously approached the entrance to the abandoned church. Breathing heavily, every sense on high alert, Hutch paused at the front door and waited, counting silently underneath his breath. When enough time had passed, he slammed his shoulder against the flimsy door and burst into the building. He heard a crashing sound from the rear of the building as Babcock and his men burst into from the back.

Several things happened simultaneously, some of the cult members panicked and turned to run away, while Matthew and John rushed Babcock and his men, ready to fight. Josie snarled, her eyes dark with rage at having the ceremony interrupted. She pulled the knife from her robe, taking a swing at Starsky's suspended body just as Hutch fired his gun. The bullet hit the woman in the back but she did not go down as Hutch had anticipated. Instead, with a cry of pure fury, she completed her swing, the knife sinking deeply into Starsky's side as she fell to her knees.

As she fell, she pulled the knife from the new wound in Starsky's battered body. Turning to glare at Hutch with eyes that blazed with hatred, she hissed in a broken voice, "You're too late, White Knight. The Black Knight is dead." With those words, Josie turned the knife in her hand and plunged the dagger deep into her own chest. Her eyes clouded over in death as she crumpled to the ground beneath the cross where Starsky hung.

Ignoring the chaos around him as the other officers rounded up the remaining members of the murderous cult, Hutch holstered his gun and staggered to the cross that held his partner's body. The lump in his throat made it hard to breathe as he gazed at the battered, broken body in front of him. His trembling fingers reached out to touch the flesh of the man he would willingly die for, He jerked back in surprise, almost as if he'd been burned, when he felt the slight flutter of a pulse in the junction of Starsky's thigh and groin. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around his injured partner's waist and lifted him up, supporting Starsky's weight. In a loud, sharp voice he yelled, "I NEED SOM HELP HERE! HE'S STILL ALIVE! SOMEBODY GET UP THERE AND CUT HIM DOWN!"

A uniformed officer scurried to do as Hutch commanded, scrambling up the ladder and using a pocket-knife to cut the cords binding Starsky's wrists to the cross beam. Once his arms were freed, Starsky's weight immediately fell forward, into Hutch's waiting arms. The taller man gently lowered Starsky to the ground, kneeling protectively beside him. Shrugging out of his leather jacket, he carefully laid it over Starsky's lower body to offer the injured man a small degree of privacy.

Breathing heavily through his nose, Hutch let his eyes sweep over the broken body before him. Starsky's entire body was covered with dark heavy bruises, cuts, and scratches. Tiny burns marked his chest and his arms, the skin on his wrists raw and bleeding from the bonds that had held him prisoner. The ugly gashes on both hips and the deep knife wound in his side were bleeding heavily. Starsky's face was so battered and swollen that he was almost unrecognizable.

"Hang on, babe…" Hutch said softly, gently brushing his fingers through the thick dark curls. "You're gonna be okay. I'm gonna get ya to the hospital. Don't you dare die on me, Gordo, or I'll kill you." Hutch choked back the sob in his throat, praying to a God he was no longer sure he even believed in not to take Starsky away from him. He knew that Starsky was close to death but if hope was enough to keep him alive, then Hutch had enough hope for both of them.

Dobey appeared at Hutch's side, accompanied by two paramedics. Hutch reluctantly moved aside to let the professionals tend to his partner, guided by Dobey's comforting hand. Snatches of conversation filtered through the terror clouding Hutch's weary mind, "We're losing him…heart rate unstable…breathing shallow and irregular…excessive blood loss…" A soft whimper escaped from Hutch's lips as he watched the paramedics attempt to stabilize Starsky enough to transport him to the hospital. He barely noticed the other officers escorting their prisoners out of the abandoned church. A few of the cult members had managed to escape but with Josie dead by her own hand and her second in command, Matthew and John, under arrest, the escaped followers posed no real threat at the moment.

Finally, the two paramedics carefully lifted Starsky's body onto the portable stretcher, wrapping a blanket around him securely. They fastened the straps across his chest and thighs to protect him from further injury as he was moved. Numbly, Hutch followed them out of the church. Dobey walked beside him, one beefy hand clutching the his detective's elbow securely. Hutch meekly allowed Dobey to lead him over to the Captain's private vehicle. Settling Hutch into the front seat, Dobey slid beneath the wheel and turned on the engine. He flipped on the siren and slapped the Mars light on the roof as he fell in behind the ambulance rushing his badly injured man to the hospital where he could receive the medical care he desperately needed to save his life.

At the hospital, Starsky was taken immediately into a trauma unit, where a team was standing by to treat him. They had been alerted by radio to the extent of Starsky's injuries while he was on route to the hospital. Dobey and Hutch were stopped at the swinging doors that led into the inner sanctum of the hospital, unable to accompany Starsky any farther. Hutch paced the waiting room like a caged animal while Dobey filled out the necessary paperwork for Starsky's admission to the hospital.

Every time the doors to the trauma unit opened, Hutch glanced up anxiously but the doctor always called someone else's name, not the name that Hutch needed to hear so desperately. With each hour that passed, Dobey could see Hutch's tolerance evaporating a little bit more. If someone didn't tell them something soon, Hutch was going to explode like fireworks on the fourth of July. Starsky was the only one who had ever been able to keep Hutch under control when he got this worked up.

Finally, a doctor stepped through the doorway and glanced around with a bored expression on his face. "Family for David Starsky?"

"Here!" Hutch said, striding forward with quick, sure steps. Dobey followed, the two men standing shoulder to shoulder as they faced the doctor. "How is he?" Hutch demanded before the doctor had a chance to speak..

The doctor arched a brow questioningly as he looked at Hutch's Nordic fairness and Dobey dark skin. "You two are Mr. Starsky's family?" he asked in a cautious tone.

"We're Police Officers and he's my partner," Hutch said in an annoyed voice "I have his medical power of Attorney. And, this is our commanding officer. Now, answer my damn question! How is my partner?"

The doctor looked at the two men sheepishly. "Mr. Starsky is in surgery right now. There were several internal injuries that had caused hemorrhaging. He's lost a great deal of blood and he's very weak. He has some broken ribs and a collapsed lung, along with several severe contusions, abrasions, and bruises. Physically, he should recover from his injuries without any complications." The doctor paused and then continued relentlessly, "Mentally however he is almost catatonic."

"What are you trying to say?" Hutch growled, growing impatient with the Doctor.

"He's not responding to any external stimuli." The doctor explained, "His mind has shut down. It's how he reacted to the trauma he was subjected to."

"I want to see him immediately!" Hutch said firmly, in a tone that clearly stated he wouldn't be pacified or back down. "He'll respond to me. I know he will!"

"I'll have a nurse let you know as soon as he's out of surgery and settled into a room." The doctor said, turning to hurry away from the big blond with the ice cold eyes. Chapter 12

Hutch slowly and quietly crossed the room to the bed where his partner lay with his eyes closed in a drugged slumber. The bruises on Starsky's face, along with the swollen, cut mouth, stood out vividly even under the dim light shining above the bed. Both wrists were bandaged, as well as other parts of his body that were hidden by the gown and the sheet that covered him.

Hutch pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and slumped down into it. Now that his adrenaline had run down, he was exhausted, both mentally and physically, from his desperate search for his partner. He reached out and gently wrapped his fingers around Starsky's right hand, squeezing comfortingly. In a soft voice that was almost a whisper, he said, "I'm here, buddy. You're safe now. Nobody is gonna hurt you anymore. Dobey has a guard posted at the door just as a precaution and I'm not leaving until you wake up." More for his own comfort than that of the unconscious man lying before him, he brushed back an unruly curl that hung down over Starsky's forehead. Hutch smiled as the curl wrapped around his finger.

He leaned forward, putting his head on his folded arm, and closed his eyes to rest his weary eyes for just a minute. He must have dozed off because he jolted awake with a start when he felt the gentle touch on his shoulder. His eyes flew open and he turned to face a petite nurse with a warm smile and soft blond curls.

"Your friend probably won't wake up until morning." She whispered, nodding her head at Starsky. "Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

"No," Hutch said in a determined voice. "I have to be here when he wakes up."

The nurse smiled and seemed to think about it for a moment, then she said, "I'll find you a pillow and blanket." She turned and left the room, returning within a few minutes with two pillows and blanket, as well as a second chair. Positioning the chair at an angle beside the one Hutch was sitting it, she said, "It may not be very comfortable but at least this way, you can put your legs up."

"Thank you," Hutch told her with a flash of a smile. He'd slept in worst positions over the years whenever Starsky was in the hospital.

"He's gonna to need your strength to get better." She told him with a grin. "So, we can't have you all cramped up and exhausted from not being able to get any sleep. My name is Molly and I'm the third shift nurse for this floor. Let me know if either one of you needs anything. I get off at seven-thirty."

Hutch nodded to acknowledge her words and moved his chair so he could use the second chair to stretch out his legs. Molly helped him adjust the pillows into a comfortable position, with one placed carefully behind his back, and then she dimmed the lights and left the room. Hutch relaxed and closed his eyes again, falling asleep almost immediately.

He awoke the next morning when the first shift nurse came in to check Starsky's vital signs. He smiled in pleasure when he recognized her as a nurse that had cared for them both during some of their previous hospitalizations.

"Good morning, Anita." He said warmly.

"What are you two doing here again?" Anita asked with a soft chuckle, as she wrote Starsky's vital signs down on his chart. "Aren't you sick of our company by now?"

"Yeah, well, you know how it is." Hutch said lightly. "Starsky seems to attract trouble without even trying."

"Tell me about it," Anita said "I heard what happened to him. I'm sorry he had to go through something like that again. I remember how hard it was for him the last time those crazies got hold of him."

"Yeah," Hutch sighed, stealing a quick glance at his partner. Starsky's eyes were still closed but he seemed to be resting comfortably. "And they had him a lot longer this time than the last time. I hate to even think about what all they did to him this time."

"He's obviously been severely beaten, more than once, over a period of time." Anita said, glancing through the chart in her hands. And he has three severe knife wounds, four cracked ribs and two broken ones, one lung collapsed, and there's some evidence of possible sexual abuse."

Hutch's eyes widened in alarm at her last two words. "Sexual abuse?" he repeated in a stunned voice. "What kind of sexual abuse?"

"Bite marks around his nipples and testicles, as well as on his neck." Anita told him in a subdued voice. "But there was no evidence of any anal penetration."

"Thank God." Hutch whispered in a grateful voice. At least Starsky had been spared that indignity.

"He's scheduled for a psychiatric evaluation as soon as he wakes up." Anita continued reading from the chart. "Apparently, he was awake briefly during treatment but wasn't responding to his surroundings or to painful stimuli."

"The doctor said something about that last night." Hutch remembered.

"It could be from shock or a reaction to what he went through. There were also traces of numerous drugs in his system, including some pretty heavy-duty hallucinogens. Those could also cause the same reaction." Anita said. She wouldn't have given anyone else as much personal information as she had given Hutch. Since she knew the two men better than most of her patients, she decided that he had the right to know all the details that the doctor had neglected to tell him the night before. She patted Starsky's left hand as she turned to leave. "I know you'll take good care of him. I'll be back later to see how he's doing."

Hutch nodded and resumed his vigil at Starsky's side. His eyes drifted to the side of Starsky's neck, which was covered with a wide bandage. Hutch's stomach churned uneasily as he pictured the bite marks that he realized that the bandages must be covering from view. Although he knew that Marcus' followers had sexually abused their previous victims, he had never thought about them doing something like that to Starsky. He wondered what other atrocities Starsky had been subjected to during the time he was held prisoner by the murderous cult.

Late that morning, Starsky whimpered softly and began to toss his head from side to side on the pillow. Instantly, Hutch grabbed his hand and spoke to him gently, "Its okay, Starsk. You are in the hospital. You're safe now."

Starsky's whimpers turned to soft moans as his eyes flew open, gazing around the room wildly without any sign of recognition in those sapphire depths. He gasped sharply, flinching away from Hutch's touch as he tried to scramble to safety. Hutch grabbed his shoulders to keep Starsky from hurting himself.

"STARSKY!" Hutch said sharply, getting directly in his friend's line of vision. "It's me, Hutch. Calm down. You're safe now."

Starsky continued to whimper, a tremor running through his entire body, as he stared blankly at Hutch. Hutch felt the fear twisting his belly into knots as he realized that Starsky didn't seem to know who Hutch was or that he was in a hospital. In Starsky's tortured mind, he was still in the hands of the cult. Hutch reached out to rake his fingers through those thick soft curls. Starsky allowed the caress without pulling away but he didn't encourage it. His eyes were wide with fear and he was breathing heavily..

"Ahhh, Starsk…" Hutch whispered in a broken voice "What the hell did they do to you?" Keeping on hand on Starsky's shoulder, he reached out with his free hand to call for the nurse and alert her that Starsky was awake.

Anita immediately responded to the bell. When she saw that Starsky was awake, she smiled and said, "Nice to see those blue eyes again, darling." Her smile faded when she saw the terrified look in Starsky's eyes and the rigid set of his muscles. He whimpered when she touched his cheek and cringed as if he expected her to hit him. Glancing at Hutch, she motioned with her head to step away from the bed. The two of them moved to the doorway, speaking in soft whispers so Starsky wouldn't hear them.

"I'm going to call the doctor. David's still not fully aware of where he is. The Doctor may want to sedate him so he doesn't hurt himself and I'm sure that, under the circumstances, he'll want the psychological evaluation done as soon as possible."

"Just don't let them restrain him." Hutch said firmly. "He was restrained by those lunatics the entire time they had him."

"I'll make sure the doctor is aware of that." Anita promised him. "You can stay with him for now. Keep talking to him, maybe you'll be able to get through to him."

Hutch nodded and returned to Starsky's side, while Anita hurried from the room to page the doctor. Starsky remained crouched at the head of the bed, his body trembling and his eyes watching Hutch warily. Not wanting to agitate him any further, Hutch refrained from touching him. But, what he really longed to do was pull Starsky into his arms and cuddle him until Hutch drove the fear out of his best friend's mind.

It wasn't long before the doctor came into the room. It was a different doctor from the one who had seen Starsky the night before when he was admitted. This was an older man of Indian descent. In a heavy accent, he introduced himself as Doctor Ramos. As soon as he approached the bed and reached out to examine him, Starsky reacted violently. With a ragged scream that startled everyone in the room, he shoved at the doctor, knocking him on his ass. Hutch reacted instinctively, wrapping his arms around Starsky to keep him from climbing out of the bed. Starsky struggled, trying to free himself from Hutch's embrace but he was too weak for his struggles to be very effective.

Before Hutch could say anything to stop him, Doctor Ramos was back on his feet and plunging a needle into Starsky's arm, sedating him. Hutch glared at the Doctor darkly, keeping his arms wrapped around Starsky until he felt the other man relaxing in his embrace. Gently, Hutch laid him back on the bed and then turned to the Doctor, his mouth tightening into a thin hard line.

"Did you have to do that?"

"I couldn't let him hurt himself or someone else." The doctor replied calmly. "It's obvious that this patient is potentially dangerous. He needs to be kept sedated until we can determine his mental status. I'm going to notify the staff psychiatrist and have him send someone down here to evaluate Mr. Starsky immediately."

"Damn you!" Hutch snapped his patience with the medical profession at an end. "He's been held prisoner and terrorized by a bunch of sickos for the past week! How do you expect him to react? There's nothing wrong with him that some time and TLC won't cure."

"I think I'll let a professional decide that." The doctor said with a derisive snort as he turned and left the room.

"I don't want that bastard coming near Starsky again." Hutch snarled as the door closed behind the doctor. He turned to glare at Anita who stood watching silently from a corner of the room. "I want another doctor assigned to Starsky's case. Someone who knows him."

"I'll see what I can do. How about Doctor Franklin?" Anita suggested, naming a doctor that had treated Starsky when he'd been poisoned by another psycho out for revenge.

"That would be perfect. Can you get in touch with him for me?" Hutch asked

"I'll call him immediately." Anita said. "Don't worry, Ken, we'll make sure David's safe and taken care of." Hutch nodded, grateful for nurses like Anita who were willing to go all the way on behalf of their patients, even if it meant going against the doctor in charge of the case.

Chapter 13

Satisfied that Starsky was resting quietly, Hutch decided to slip away for a little while so he could go to headquarters to fill out his report and check on the prisoners. He didn't expect to be gone long. But, in spite of his good intentions, it was almost three hours before he was able to get back to the hospital.

He was stunned when he walked into Starsky's room to find the dark-haired man restrained with his wrists and ankles fastened to the bed rails with thick leather straps padded with sheepskin. Starsky was lying quietly, too quietly, apparently heavily drugged. Turning on his heels, Hutch stalked down the hallway to the nurse's station where he found Anita busy working on charts.

"What the hell happened?" Hutch demanded harshly, in a loud angry voice, startling the petite blonde. With a surprised jerk, she raised her head to find herself staring into a set of angry, ice cold blue eyes. "Why the fuck is Starsky restrained like that?"

"Ken, I'm sorry. Please lower your voice." Anita stood up and came around the corner of the desk, grabbing his arm and leading him into the med room, closing the door securely behind them. Turning her attention to the outraged detective, she said, "After you left, David woke up and became very agitated and combative. Before Doctor Franklin could get here, Doctor Ramos ordered him restrained and sedated."

"I left orders not to let that man near him again!" Hutch snapped. He took several deep breathes to calm himself, reminding himself that none of this was Anita's fault.

"I know that but, technically, he was still the doctor assigned to David until Doctor Franklin arrived and took over the case." Anita pointed out. "I was on break when all this happened and didn't find out what he had done until I came back.."

"Is Doctor Franklin his doctor now?"

"Yes. That's all been arranged." She hesitated and then added, "Ken, the drug that Doctor Ramos used to sedate David is an experimental one for psychotic patients. It should never have been used on David. It can have some dangerous side effects. We're watching David very carefully right now and just waiting for him to wake up."

"WHAT!" Hutch bellowed, losing his temper again. "What gave that asshole the right to give something like that to Starsky? Hasn't he been through enough?"

"I agree. A report has already been made to the hospital administrator and I assure you that Dr. Ramos' actions will be investigated."

"You're damn right they will!" Hutch growled. "He'll be hearing from my lawyer and Starsky's lawyer tomorrow! So will the hospital administration for allowing something like this to happen! I have Starsky's medical power of attorney and I left specific orders for him not to be restrained!"

"I know that." Anita said soothingly. "And you have every right to seek legal action against Doctor Ramos for his actions. But, right now, you need to concentrate on David and his welfare."

"I'm not leaving him alone again." Hutch said in a determined voice. "Not until I know he's out of danger."

"That's fine. There's no one in the other bed in his room and I can make sure nobody else is admitted to that room for now." Anita said. She smiled as she gently ran her hand up and down Hutch's arm to calm him down. "Go sit with him. David needs you right now. Doctor Franklin will be in to talk to you later."

Brushing past her, Hutch left the room and hurried back down the hallway to Starsky's room. Pulling a chair up beside the bed, he slumped down into the hard plastic seat and reached out to clutch Starsky's right hand, running his thumb gently across the back of his partner's knuckles.

"I'm here, buddy." He said softly "I'm sorry they did this to you. I should never have left you alone. It won't happen again because I'm staying right here with you until you wake up and know who I am and where you are."

Angered at the sight of the leather straps around his friend's wrists and ankles, Hutch stood up and leaned down to unfasten the restraints. Finished releasing Starsky, he tossed the leather bindings into a corner of the room, slumping back down in his chair and catching his partner's hand again. "Nobody is gonna do that to you again, Starsk. I swear to you, they aren't. I won't let them." Hutch promised vehemently. He gently reached up to run his fingers down the beloved face, cringing when there was no response to his touch.

He sat there, standing guard over his friend and partner, barely noticing as the light outside the window faded into darkness. Anita came in every forty-five minutes to check Starsky's vital signs and to check on Hutch. In spite of her encouragement to stretch his legs or to go to the cafeteria to get some food, Hutch refused to leave Starsky's side. Bad things happened to his partner when Hutch wasn't there to watch his back.

Doctor Franklin came into the room shortly after the evening meds were passed. He smiled warmly at Hutch as he began to examine Starsky. He took the dark haired man's vitals and raised one eyelid to shine a light into his pupils. Hutch waited impatiently for him to finish. He didn't look pleased when he finally stepped back from the bed and glanced in Hutch's direction.

"David should have been awake by now." Doctor Franklin said with a frown.

"Is he okay?" Hutch asked anxiously.

"That's hard to say. The drug he was given was highly experimental and should never have been given to David without prior approval. His pupils are still dilated and sluggish. I'm afraid all we can do at the moment is continue to wait for him to wake up."

"How much longer?"

"We'll wait until morning to see if he wakes up. If he doesn't, we'll run some tests to see what's going on." Doctor Franklin reassured him. "Until then, let's not look for trouble. Some of the other drugs he'd been given may still be in his system and counteracting with what Doctor Ramos gave him."

"Do you think that's what happened?"

"Let's hope that's all it is." Doctor Franklin said ominously. Without any further explanation, he turned and let himself out of the room. Hutch frowned and turned his attention back to his unconscious partner. "Come on, pal." He said encouragingly, squeezing Starsky's shoulder gently. "It's time to wake up now. Let me see those blue eyes, okay?" Starsky lay there, quiet and still, unresponsive. Hutch could feel his anxiety level start to climb. If anything else happened to Starsky, somebody was going to pay for it and Hutch would never forgive himself for not being there with Starsky to protect him from any more harm.

Hutch sat there and continued to talk to Starsky as if he could hear him. Hutch prayed that he could, that Starsky knew Hutch was there with him and that he was safe. It was a one sided conversation but at least it made Hutch feel better. Finally, his own exhaustion overwhelmed Hutch and he folded his arms on the edge of the bed and lowered his head, dozing off

The sound of activity in the hallway awakened him the next morning. Yawning widely, Hutch glanced at Starsky but his eyes were still closed. Dejected, the blond stood up and stretched to work the kinks out of his cramped muscles. After satisfying himself that Starsky was still sleeping quietly, Hutch slipped out of the room and went to the third-floor cafeteria for a cup of coffee.

After a quick stop at the men's room to splash some cold water on his face, Hutch returned to Starsky's room, feeling marginally better. As the morning turned into the afternoon with no sign of Starsky waking up, Hutch began to worry. Doctor Franklin shared his concerns when he stopped by to check on Starsky and discovered that the dark-haired detective was still unconscious. He immediately ordered a series of tests to be run on Starsky immediately.

Hutch was forced to wait in the waiting room while the tests were being done. He paced the floor, glancing periodically at the clock on the wall and trying to stay calm without much success. It was almost three hours before Doctor Franklin finally joined him. Hutch knew immediately from the expression on the Doctor's face that the news wasn't promising.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Hutch demanded before the other man had a chance to speak.

Doctor Franklin took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, pushing his glasses up on his nose, before answering the distraught blond. "Maybe you should sit down." He suggested. Hutch immediately went on the defensive, sensing that the doctor was about to tell him something he didn't want to hear.

"What's wrong with Starsky?" he demanded in a deep, husky voice that betrayed his inner turmoil.

"Ken, it appears that David has suffered an adverse reaction to the drug he was given."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm sorry but it looks like he's slipped into a coma."

"A coma?" Hutch repeated in a soft, broken voice. His weary mind struggled to absorb what he had just been told. He collapsed into the chair sitting behind him and buried his face in his hands, his shoulders sagging in defeat. Guilt overwhelmed him. He had failed his partner again.

Chapter 14

George Nelson, the hospital administrator, glanced nervously at the big blond hovering over his desk. In a voice meant to pacify the enraged man, he said,

"Mr. Hutchinson, I assure you that Dr. Ramos' actions are being investigated and his privileges at this hospital are being suspended until we're finished with our investigation."

"In the meantime, my partner, who happens to be a highly decorated police officer in this city, is lying in a coma and nobody seems to be able to tell me when…or even if…he's going to wake up!" Hutch snarled, slamming his fist down on the fancy desk hard enough to knock off the picture frame sitting in the right hand corner.

George winced at the sound of breaking glass but tired to remain calm. Hutchinson had already threatened the hospital with a major lawsuit because of what had happened to his unfortunate partner.

"As I've already explained to you, there is no way of knowing how your partner's system will react to the drug he was given. We don't even know how Doctor Ramos got hold of such a highly controversial drug."

"Well, if I were you I'd fucking be finding out!" Hutch growled his eyes as cold as chunks of blue ice. "Because if it turns out that the good doctor was part of any kind of conspiracy to murder my partner, then I will personally hold you and this hospital responsible and make sure you're charged as accessories to the attempted murder of a police officer!"

George cringed. He had no doubt that the infuriated detective would do just that.

"Detective Hutchinson," he said, switching to Hutch's professional title. "This hospital and I are both prepared to cooperate fully in this matter. Just tell me what you'd like for us to do."

"I want complete access to Doctor Ramos' personnel file. Since this situation involves a police officer of this city, the department will be conducting their own investigation into this matter. Whatever we uncover will be used to determine who to file formal charges against. Criminal charges." Hutch spat out.

"Of course." George stammered nervously, anxious to get Hutch out of his office as quickly as possible. "I'll call down to Personel and have them make a copy of Dr. Ramos' file immediately."

Hutch turned and left the administrator's office, slamming the door behind him. George slumped down in his chair and took a deep cleansing breath. Pulling a clean hanky from his pocket, he mopped at his perspiring face nervously. His hand was trembling as he reached for the phone.

Hutch stomped down the hallway and took the elevator to the fourth floor where Starsky had been moved into a private room with a guard. As a precaution, he had also been registered under an assumed name. Under the circumstances, the police department wasn't taking any more chances with Starsky's life. The only medical staff that were allowed in his room were the personnel that had cleared by Hutch. And the only visitors he was allowed to have were Hutch, Captain Dobey and Huggy Bear. Hutch had personally notified Starsky's mother about his condition, but due to health problems of her own, she wasn't be able to make the trip to California to be with him.

Hutch nodded to the guard as he went into Starsky's room. The lights were dimmed and the only sound in the room was the soft hum of the machines that were monitoring his condition. Starsky was lying on the bed with his eyes closed and appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but Hutch knew that wasn't the case. The bruises on his face and body were fading from deep purple and black to a sickening green and yellow. Slowly, Starsky's body was starting to heal but his mind was locked away somewhere beyond Hutch's reach.

Hutch sat down in the chair beside the bed and gently took Starsky's hand in his own. The skin was warm, the chest moved slowly up and down with each breath, but the dark-haired man lay deathly still, not even a muscle twitching to indicate any awareness to his surroundings or Hutch's presence.

Hutch sat there for hours, talking to his partner about previous cases, old girlfriends, vacations they had taken together, and anything else that came to mind. He kept a watchful eye on Starsky's face, longing for some sign of recognition. His disappointment and guilt deepened when no response was forthcoming. Doctor Franklin was still running a series of tests to try to find a way to reverse the coma caused by the drug he had been given.

Finally, late that evening, Hutch forced himself to leave the hospital and go back to his own apartment. He was exhausted and needed to rest. Starsky needed him now more than he ever had before. He took a long, hot shower and forced himself to eat a salad. Still, he felt so lost and alone. He needed Starsky, healthy and laughing, by his side.

Unable to sleep, in spite of his physical and mental exhaustion, he slumped down on the sofa and put his long legs up on the coffee table. He began reading the copy of Doctor Ramos' file, making a note now and then of things he wanted to follow up and questions he wanted to ask the good doctor the next day. He memorized the pertinent facts.

The doctor had immigrated to the United States from India fifteen years ago to attend the UCLA School of Medicine, graduating in the top ten of his class. After graduation, he had applied for and been granted US citizenship. For six years, he had worked for the government helping to develop new drugs to be used in drug warfare. Hutch frowned as he absorbed that bit of information. That could explain how he was able to get his hands on a highly experimental drug so easily.

The lingering question was why? Why use it on Starsky? Hutch thought back to his first encounter with the Doctor. Even then, he had appeared to have a condescending and, almost hostile, attitude towards Starsky. There had to be a connection somewhere in the Doctor's past that would explain his behavior. Hutch continued reading.

The Doctor had been married but the marriage had ended when his wife committed suicide four years ago. He had never remarried. He had gone to work at the hospital after his wife's death. Although he had an abrupt and cold demeanor with his patients, his work at the hospital had been satisfactory. There had never been any formal complaints lodged against him. So, what had made him suddenly jeopardize not only his medical career, but also his freedom, by giving that drug to Starsky? Was he somehow connected to Simon Marcus or did he have other motives for what he had done? One way or the other, Hutch intended to find out.

Hutch laid his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes, intending to rest for a minute before continuing to read. The next thing he knew, it was morning and the phone was ringing. Fumbling for the receiver, he growled, "Hutchinson."

"Hutch, its Captain Dobey. Doctor Ramos was found dead by his housekeeper when she arrived at work this morning. It looks like he committed suicide."

"I'm on my way!" Hutch said, hanging up before Captain Dobey could reply. Muttering a string of obscenities beneath his breath, Hutch grabbed his leather jacket on his way out the door. If the doctor was dead, then the answers to Hutch's questions could very well have died with him.

Slamming his car into drive and stomping on the gas, Hutch turned on the siren and slapped the Mars light on the roof as he sped towards the address he had memorized for the doctor. In spite of the doctor's income, he lived in a quiet middle-class neighborhood, hardly the type of community Hutch would imagined for a doctor of his prominence to reside in. His house was a non-descript split level ranch house. Hutch pulled up behind the coroner's wagon and climbed out of his car.

The Coroner's team was just bringing a stretcher carrying a black body bag out of the house. They paused as Hutch approached them. The tall blond carefully unzipped the back and pulled it back enough to see what was left of the doctor's head. It wasn't much. He'd apparently used a shotgun to blow his brains out. Positive identification would have to be made through fingerprints. Zipping the bag closed, Hutch nodded curtly and sent the man on their way with their burden. Taking a deep breath, he continued into the house.

He found Captain Dobey and two uniformed officers in the modest living room. Blood was splattered against the wall behind a recliner and the chair was soaked with blood. A sawed-off twelve-gauge shotgun lay on the heavily stained carpet beside the chair. The cloying smell of blood and death filled the air in the small room.

"What have we got, Cap?" Hutch asked somberly.

"The Coroner said it looks like he's been dead since sometime yesterday afternoon. There's a team out canvassing the neighborhood to see if any of the neighbors heard or saw anything unusual in the past twenty-four hours." Dobey replied.

"Is he sure it's a suicide?" Hutch asked

Dobey nodded. "Angle of the wound, blood splatter…everything indicates that he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger."

Hutch knelt down beside the recliner and examined the shotgun with a trained eye, taking care to keep his hands in his pocket and not to touch anything. Sawing off the barrel of the shotgun would have enabled the doctor to pull the trigger without much effort. It would have also maximized the effects of shotgun blast. It appeared that the doctor had been determined to make sure that his suicide attempt was successful.

Hutch straightened up and rotated his shoulders to work out the kinks. The lab team was busy processing the scene and collecting evidence. When they were finished, Hutch would start his own search of the house. While he waited, he glanced around to get a feel for the type of individual the doctor had been.

The house was modestly furnished, the furnishings old but well cared for. There was an obvious lack of any pictures in evidence on the walls, at least in the living room. There were no personal items of any kind in sight, giving the room a sterile, empty feeling. Either the doctor didn't spend much time in this house or he led a very solitary, isolated life outside of work. Another piece to the puzzle that would have to be examined.

While the lab team finished in the living room, Hutch wandered through the rest of the house which he found to be just as empty and cold. The only food in the refrigerator was some yogurt and frozen TV dinners, typical fare for a single man on his own who didn't eat at home a lot. The bedroom was just as barren. The closet held a couple of sweat suits and several sets of hospital scrubs. Surprisingly enough, the large dresser sitting in the corner of the room seemed to be filled with his deceased wife's clothing, other than one drawer that held men's underwear and socks. The top of the dresser and nightstand were both bare, except for a small lamp and an alarm clock on the nightstand. Something just didn't seem right about the residence. Hutch couldn't find any personal papers or documents, not even any canceled checks or receipts. He made a note to have a team go over the house carefully to see if the doctor had a hidden safe somewhere that held the missing documents.

He went back into the living room to find Captain Dobey talking to the team of officers that had been questioning the neighbors. Arching an eyebrow questioningly, Hutch waited as Dobey dismissed the two teams of uniformed officers from the scene. When they were alone, Dobey looked at Hutch with a frown and said,

"Nobody seems to know much about the good doctor at all, even though he's apparently lived here for almost ten years."

"And none of them heard or saw anything suspicious, right?" Hutch asked dourly.

"Nope, nothing. They all said the doctor worked long hours at the hospital and was seldom at home. He wasn't very friendly and kept pretty much to himself." Dobey replied. "The neighbors didn't know much more about his wife either. She apparently was a lot younger than the doctor and never went outside or talked to anyone when he was gone. Some of them didn't even know she was dead until months after her death."

"She committed suicide too, right?" Hutch said, remembering what he had read in the file he had at home.

"Overdose of sleeping pills apparently. At least that's what the official reports say." Dobey acknowledged. "I'll have the file on her death pulled and put on your desk when I get back to headquarters."

"Do that. And have a team go over this place with a fine-tooth comb. I couldn't find any personal papers, letters, receipts, or anything. Either Ramos was a total hermit outside of work or he's hiding something he didn't want anyone to find out about." Hutch mused. "I'm going to the hospital to see how Starsky is. You can reach me there if you need me."

"Are you coming in to the office anytime today?"

"I'll be there later this afternoon." Hutch said as he turned to leave the house. This case seemed to be getting more and more complicated by the second. And he didn't have Starsky by his side to bounce ideas off of. This time, he was on his own.

Chapter 15

Hutch looked around in stunned dismay at the tiny hidden room the search team had uncovered in the basement of Doctor Ramos' house. Every inch of wall space was covered with photographs of Starsky, along with newspaper clippings where his picture had appeared. Since there were no obvious pictures of Hutch present, it was apparent that the doctor had an unhealthy obsession with Starsky. But the question still remained. Why?

"What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, his eyes widening in alarm at the evidence covering the walls.

"Looks like this guy had in it for Starsky." Jim Hughes, a member of the search team who knew both detectives, observed dryly. He began taking pictures of the tiny room from every angle. "And it looks damn personal to me."

"I'd have to agree with you on that one, Jim." Hutch grunted, "The question is why? What the hell did Starsky ever do to this guy?" The hidden room tended to make Hutch believe that the doctor's vendetta with Starsky was of a more personal nature than he had first suspected.

Hutch spotted a desk in the corner of the room that he hoped might hold some answers. There were two drawers that were securely locked, but a locked drawer had never stopped Hutch before. The warrant Hutch had in his pocket covered anything the team deemed suspicious in the doctor's house and this room alone made the contents of the desk highly suspicious. Pulling his pocketknife from his jeans, Hutch used it to pry open each drawer. The top drawer was crammed with pictures of the doctor and his wife, some of them very revealing and compromising. In several pictures, the younger woman was pictured alone, naked and tied in a bondage position.

The second drawer contained three loose-leaf notebooks, journals that documented the slow unraveling of the Doctor's mind. The psychotic break seemed to occur when his wife committed suicide and the focus of the doctor's rage seemed to be centered on Starsky whom he held responsible for his wife's death for some reason. Hopefully, one of the notebooks would reveal the reason the doctor had such an obsession with Starsky. Just from glancing through one of them, Hutch came to the conclusion that Starsky had been in the wrong place at the right time and the doctor had seen his opportunity to get revenge on the man he believed responsible for his wife's death. It was beginning to look like the attack by Marcus and the attack by the doctor while Starsky was in the hospital were totally unrelated. There was some comfort in that knowledge but Starsky was still lying in a coma at the hospital with no signs of responding.

"Make sure all this gets logged in and processed." Hutch ordered Jim, jerking his head towards the contents of the desk. Jim nodded as he continued photographing the scene. "And I want somebody to read all these damn journals to see if there's any more usual information in them."

Digging deeper in the bottom drawer, Hutch found a bankbook that showed that the doctor had over $75,000.00 in the bank and a safety deposit box that could contain more valuable evidence. Pocketing the key to the safety deposit box, Hutch pushed himself to his feet and turned towards the door. Glancing back over his shoulder, he said gruffly, "I want this scene locked down tight. Nobody gets in or out until all this stuff is bagged and tagged."

"I'll take care of it, Hutch." Jim reassured him. "You get out of here and go take care of that partner of yours." Hutch didn't need to be told twice. Starsky was, and always would be, his first priority. Leaving Jim and his crew to finish their job, Hutch returned to headquarters long enough to fill Captain Dobey in on the latest developments in the case. He also spent half an hour on the phone getting the process started for a search warrant to open the safety deposit box at the doctor's bank. Hanging up the phone, Hutch slumped at his desk and buried his face in his hands, the events of the past two weeks overwhelming him. He felt lost and alone without any firm sense of direction.

Finally, he shoved his weary protesting body to his feet and left the building, driving to the hospital to be with his partner. He was disappointed to find that Starsky's condition had not changed. He still lay so still and quiet, the essence of the man locked away somewhere deep inside his tortured mind. Hutch sat at his partner's side and held his hand, talking to him quietly in a gentle soothing voice that he only used with Starsky when he was injured or afraid.

"Please Starsky, you gotta wake up. Please open your eyes." Hutch pleaded in a broken voice as he rubbed his hand up and down Starsky's right arm. He could feel the warmth of Starsky's body against his palm, the texture of his skin, the soft silky fur that covered Starsky's arm, the deceptive strength of the muscles hidden beneath the surface. But what he couldn't feel was any response to his voice, any sign that Starsky heard him and knew that he was there. Hutch felt his stomach twist into knots, his eyes filling with unshed tears, as he scanned Starsky's face for any sign of recognition. There was none, just the gentle rise and fall of Starsky's chest, the only visible sign that he was still alive.

Hutch sat there, not even noticing as the sunlight streaming through the window slowly turned to dusk and then to darkness, as he continued talking to his unconscious partner in a vain attempt to awaken him from his enforced slumber. A cold, murderous rage boiled deep inside of Hutch with no means of escape. The doctor responsible for Starsky's condition was dead, killed by his own hand. If the doctor weren't already dead, Hutch would have killed him with his bare hands if he could have.

And underneath all the rage, was the terrible guilt that was slowly eating Hutch alive. He had failed his partner when Starsky had needed him the most. He had failed to protect him from the Dark Angel and failed him again when he was unable to stop the doctor from harming him any farther. Now Starsky was the one who would have to pay the price for Hutch's negligence. Sitting there in the darkness, holding Starsky's hand, Hutch made a solemn vow to spend the rest of his life caring for Starsky and keeping him safe, even if it meant sacrificing his own life to do it.

Without Starsky by his side, Hutch had no life, at least not one worth living. Their souls were too intertwined to function separately any longer. They had become one soul sharing two bodies, bound together by fate and destiny, neither of them whole and complete without the other one. Hutch accepted that simple fact of life. They were more than just partners, more than just best friends, they were true soul mates in every sense of the word.

The sound of soft footsteps entering the room captured Hutch's attention. He turned his head to gaze at Doctor Franklin. Putting a finger to his lips to signal him to be silent, Hutch stood up and followed the doctor back into the hallway.

"How's he doing?" Hutch asked, even though he was already certain he knew the answer to his own question.

"His GCS score indicates that he's shifted into a deeper level of coma. He's completely unresponsive even to the most painful stimuli."

"But he will wake up eventually, right?" Hutch asked hopefully.

"Hopefully, yes…all we can do right now is wait and see. We'll monitor his condition very closely for the next few days and then see how he is."

"W..w..what if he doesn't wake up in a few days?" Hutch asked, hating the nervous stammer that colored his speech when he was under stress.

"Let's not worry about that until we have to." Doctor Franklin said, laying a comforting hand on Hutch's shoulder and squeezing. "David's body has been through a great deal in the past week, he needs time to heal both physically and mentally. Bear with us. We are doing everything we can to bring him through this with as little additional trauma as possible."

"Thank you. I know it's not your fault what happened."

Doctor Franklin's eyes darkened with anger. "Doctor Ramos' actions were inexcusable. He violated the sacred trust of our profession and if he hadn't committed suicide, I would have filed charges with the medical board to have him disbarred immediately." The doctor took a deep breath to calm his anger and looked at the distraught blond detective. "David will be well taken care of. I'll make sure of that. Everything will be done that can possibly be done for him."

"Thank you. I appreciate that." Hutch repeated, shaking the doctor's hand. With a final glance, the doctor turned and walked away to check on his other patients and Hutch went back into Starsky's room to sit with his injured friend.

Chapter 16

The bank manager examined the warrant that Hutch shoved at him carefully. Finally, with a disapproving scowl, he led him into the room where the safety deposit boxes were located. The manager slid out the safety deposit box assigned to Doctor Ramos and used his key to open it, setting it on a private table. He discreetly stepped out of the room, leaving Hutch alone to examine the contents of the box.

Once he was sure that he was alone, Hutch opened the top on the box and peered inside. He found personal papers, some gold jewelry, several bundles of bills in various denominations, and some more newspaper clippings. He began examining the items individually.

There was over ten thousand dollars in cash, along with several high quality gold necklaces, rings and cufflinks that could easily be pawned for more money. The personal papers included the doctor's passport and a complete set of identification in an assumed name. Hutch also found papers that, to his untrained eye, seemed to contain the formula for the drug that he had given to Starsky. He also found receipts for the drugs Ramos had purchased to make the deadly concoction.

The newspaper articles cleared up the mystery about Starsky's connection with the doctor. Apparently, the doctor's wife had a drug problem and had resorted to illegal activities to support her habit. She had been arrested for shoplifting, petty theft, and solicitation. The last time she was arrested, shortly before her suicide, the arresting officer had been Starsky. The arrest had occurred shortly before Starsky was promoted to detective and became partners with Hutch. The doctor's journals had already detailed the deterioration of the doctor's mind after his wife's suicide. Even though the mystery of the doctor's suicide and his motive for trying to murder Starsky had been solved, Hutch felt little relief. Starsky was still not out of danger from the drug he had been given. Hutch closed the safety deposit box and put it back in place, then returned to headquarters to write out his report on the contents of the box. When his report was completed, he put in Captain Dobey's in box and returned to the hospital to be with Starsky.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

One day blended into another without any noticeable change in Starsky's condition. His body was healing but his mind was still locked away beyond reach. After two weeks in the hospital, Doctor Franklin requested a private meeting with Hutch. The doctor looked at Hutch solemnly as the big blond sat down in one of the leather bound chairs facing the doctor's desk.

"Physically, David's body is almost healed." Doctor Franklin told him somberly. "And all the tests we ran came back negative. There's no medical reason for him to still be in a coma."

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Hutch demanded. His patience was worn dangerously thin. "Why won't he wake up?"

"We don't know." Doctor Franklin admitted. "The hospital administration wants to transfer him to another facility. One designed for the care of long term coma patients."

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't think he's going to wake up?" Hutch growled in a dangerously low voice.

"I told you, we just don't know. There is still a chance that he will recover. There's always a chance."

"What if I refuse?"

"That's not an option at this point. David no longer needs the medical intervention this hospital is designed to provide. The administration is well within its rights to request the transfer." Doctor Franklin paused, giving Hutch time to absorb the information. After a moment of silence, he continued, "The facility the administration has in mind is right here in Los Angeles and is considered one of the best in the world." He scribbled a few lines on a piece of paper. "Here's the name and address. Check it out for yourself and then we'll talk again. They've already been advised about David's case."

Hutch accepted the paper and glanced at it reading what the Doctor had written. "Indian Falls Rehabilitation Center. 23311 Western Boulevard." he said aloud.

"I'll give them a call and let them know that you may be stopping by to talk to them."

Hutch raised his eyes took look at one of the few doctors he trusted in the medical profession. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, Ken. I'm afraid you don't. In his present condition, David still needs twenty-four hour monitoring and care. And even if he does come out of the coma, he's going to need extensive therapy to get back on his feet. A coma patient loses mobility and muscle tone. They also lose their fine motor skills and those functions need to be re-learned."

Hutch nodded to show that he understood and left the office returning to Starsky's room. The dark-haired detective lay quietly on the bed. If someone wasn't aware of his true condition, they would assume he was simply sleeping. But, if they stood by and watched him for awhile, they would notice the little things they didn't see at first. The abnormal stillness of his body, the fact that he didn't move or change positions on his own, the lack of response to loud noises or someone's touch.

"They want to move you somewhere else, buddy." Hutch said softly, taking Starsky's hand and talking to him the way he always did. "And I can't do anything to stop them. You need to wake up, Starsk…God, you need to just wake up." Hutch blinked back the tears that filled his eyes as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He knew that he had done all he could do but he still felt completely helpless. He couldn't feel the unique psychic bond he had always shared with Starsky any longer and he missed that.

Later that afternoon, Hutch followed the directions to the Indian Falls Rehabilitation Center. It was along one-story brick building built in a Y formation. The grounds surrounding the Center were spacious with well cared for and carefully designed landscaping. Inside the building, it was apparent that care had been taken to keep the facility from looking like what it really was. The colors were bright and cheerful and there was even a dog wandering the halls. The staff was dressed in casual clothing instead of uniforms, identified only by the name badges pinned to their shirts. But in spite of all the efforts to camouflage the purpose of the building, Hutch still knew what this place really was designed for.

A pretty brunette with blue eyes and a trim figure saw him come in and came up to Hutch immediately. "You must be Mr. Hutchinson." She said with a welcoming smile. "I'm Linda Manning, one of the case workers here. Why don't we go back to my office so we can talk for a bit and then I'll show you around." Hutch followed her down the hallway to a corner office. She ushered him inside and closed the door.

The office was tastefully decorated with a couch and three comfortable chairs instead of the usual office furnishings. An electric typewriter sat on a stand in one corner of the room. It could easily have been someone's living room instead of someone's office. Hutch sat on the sofa with Linda sitting in one of the chairs across from him.

"Alright, first of all I would like to tell you that our facility is designed specifically for the care of patients in David's condition. Our goal is to do whatever is necessary to help David come out of the coma and get back to his normal life as soon as possible."

"Then you think he's gonna wake up?" Hutch asked anxiously

"I'm sure he will…eventually. Unfortunately, there is no way to predict when that will happen. Most people are only in a coma for a short period of time, a few days or few weeks. David has already been in a coma for almost three weeks with no sign of responding. That's not good but if he is transferred here, hopefully we can help change that. Our staff will be able to work more closely with him and provide more stimulation than they can at the hospital. And we want you as someone who is obviously very significant in his life to be involved in that process as much as possible." She paused to consult some notes and then continued. "Now, for the time being David would still have to have a catheter and be tube fed. His position would be changed every hour instead of every two hours the way they do in the hospital and a physical therapist will start working with him immediately. That's the kind of special care that they couldn't give him in the hospital but it's also the kind of special care he needs right now."

She smiled at Hutch encouragingly "I know that this has to be hard for you but this is the best place for David right now. Our success rate in this type of case is higher than any other facility of this kind in the state. Do you have any questions?" When Hutch shook his head, she stood up and said, "Then let me show you around."

Hutch followed her out of the office and down a long hallway. She gestured him into one of the rooms and let him look around. The room contained a regular single bed instead of a traditional hospital bed. There was a second bed along the opposite wall. There was also a small love seat and a sofa arranged in one corner with a TV sitting on a stand. As with the rest of the facility, care had been taken to keep the room from looking like a traditional hospital room. "We try to keep things here resembling a home atmosphere as much as possible" Linda explained "And each patient has their own private room. Friends and family members are welcome to spend the night any time they wish. That's what the extra bed is for."

"It's not anything like I thought it would be." Hutch admitted with a grudging smile.

"That's the way we want it." Linda told her "I think it's more comfortable this way both for the family and for the patient. We don't have any set visiting hours here you're welcome to come by anytime day or night."

The rest of the tour included showing Hutch the physical therapy room, the indoor swimming pool, the weight room, the library, and the recreation room. Even Hutch had to admit that this was quite a place. Starsky's medical insurance would cover the cost of his care. Starsky's lawyer, after being contacted by Hutch, had also filed a lawsuit against the doctor's estate and the hospital on Starsky's behalf. Hutch didn't want to see Starsky in this place but if they could help him wake up, then Hutch would allow it.

Chapter 17

Two days after Hutch's visit to Indian Falls, Starsky was transferred to the facility. The staff was so caring and genuinely concerned about Starsky's welfare that the difference from the care he had received at the hospital was immediately noticeable. Hutch soon discovered that no matter who was in the room, even if it was only the cleaning staff, they talked to Starsky instead of ignoring him just because he was in a coma.

Hutch arrived one morning just two days after Starsky was admitted to find his bed empty. Hutch stopped a passing staff member to ask where Starsky was. The aide smiled at the concern in his voice and told him that Starsky's physical therapist had taken him outside into the courtyard. Hutch hurried down the hall to the enclosed courtyard and went outside. He saw Starsky lying in a specially designed chair that leaned back like a recliner. His therapist, a pretty blonde named Cindy, was sitting beside him reading the LA Times out loud.

"Hi, Ken" she said when the detective came into the courtyard. "I thought Dave might like some sun for awhile after being cooped up in the hospital for so long." She grinned "Get that killer tan back that I bet he had before this all happened."

Hutch smiled and walked to his partner's side, "Hey, Starsk…putting the moves on all the pretty girls I see." he said as he gently rubbed his friend's shoulder. Cindy smiled as she watched the interaction between the two men. Their closeness made her job that much easier. It was obvious that Hutch was a strong support system for the dark-haired man in the coma.

"I have some good news for you." Cindy said after Hutch had finished greeting his partner. "I started the range of motion exercises with Dave this morning and he's resisting me." At the blank look on Hutch's face, she explained, "Dave was in the hospital for almost three weeks without anyone doing any exercises, so that means his muscles had already started to contract or tighten up and his joints had started to get stiff. Unfortunately, that's what happens with bedridden patients. So when I start working with them, it hurts and Dave is resisting me because he can feel the pain."

"That's good right?" Hutch asked hopefully, remembering Doctor Franklin telling him that Starsky wasn't responding to any type of stimuli, even pain.

"Yes, it's very good. It means that he's in a lighter coma than he was before."

"Does that means he's trying to wake up?" Hutch asked in an excited voice

"It's a good sign. However, coma patients don't just open their eyes one morning and wake up. It's more complicated than that. They start to respond exactly the way Dave is now, slowly becoming more aware of their surroundings and their first response is generally reacting to pain." She smiled broadly. "Our nutritionist also changed the formula he'd been getting through his feeding tube and increased the calorie intake so he should start putting some weight back on."

Hutch nodded. Starsky had lost almost 15 pounds since the accident and he hadn't been that heavy to begin with. The weight loss showed especially in his face, which looked haggard and drawn, the bones sharply defined. Cindy reached out to touch the back of Starsky's hand "And I'm going to be bringing him out here everyday to get some sun and fresh air again. How's that sound, Dave?"

"You said he'd start responding more to his surroundings…." Hutch said, struggling to remember what he remembered about coma patients from his brief time in Medical School. "How exactly?"

"Well, obviously reacting to painful stimuli, which he's doing now. You may start to notice small muscle twitches, facial expressions, he may start making some movements in response to your voice when you talk to him. He'll be able to hear you before he wakes up completely. That's why we encourage everyone to talk to him even if he isn't responding. He may even start making some sounds and appear like he's trying to speak." Cindy told Hutch with a bright smile. "I'll leave him in your hands now. Whenever you wanna take him back to his room that's fine or you can just stay out here."

Hutch thanked her and took a seat beside Starsky, talking to him about work and anything that crossed his mind just like he'd been doing ever since the Starsky had slipped away from him into the coma. He planned on spending the night with Starsky, as well as the following day since he didn't have to work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hutch was sleeping when a soft thud awakened him. Opening his eyes, he yawned and tried to figure out what had disturbed his sleep. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Hutch realized that Starsky's arm had fallen over the side of the bed and his hand had hit the side of the bed. Crawling out of bed, Hutch gently picked up Starsky's arm and laid it back on the bed, only to have his arm fall over the side again almost immediately. Hutch frowned and then grinned as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Gordo, are you doing that on purpose?" he said with a soft chuckle, picking Starsky's arm up again and laying it across Starsky's stomach where it stayed this time.

Hutch stood there for several long minutes just staring down at Starsky's face trying to see if he could notice any change but Starsky still looked as if he were deeply asleep and didn't respond to Hutch's voice or to his touch. Hutch longed to see those sapphire eyes again. "Now stop making so much noise and let me sleep." Hutch said with a grin as he gently squeezed Starsky's shoulder, rubbing it for a moment before returning to his own bed. Soon he was sleeping soundly again.

Where the hell am I? What happened to me? Why can't I remember? I'm scared. Who was that talking to me? Help me….please help me….God, please help me!

The next morning one of the aides brought Hutch a breakfast tray, smiling as she sat it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Thank you, Sweetheart." Hutch said, flashing a brilliant smile at the young woman. She blushed furiously and hurried out of the room. Hutch had just finished eating when Cindy came in to the room to start her morning routine with Starsky.

"Uh…hey," Hutch said "Last night, his arm fell off the bed a couple of times. Could he have done that himself?"

"Maybe…." Cindy said thoughtfully "It could have been an involuntary reflex. But I think I'm going to have a few tests done this afternoon to see just how much he can respond to."

Cindy started her range of motion exercises starting with Starsky's legs first. When she had finished with that, she started on his arms and hands. She frowned when she felt a definite resistance on Starsky's part, stronger than it had been before. "Oh, we don't wanna work today, do we?" she said "Well, I'm sorry but I'm not gonna let you off that easy." When she had finished, she looked at Hutch and said, "I don't wanna get your hopes up, but his resistance to the exercises is stronger today than it's ever been. I think he may definitely be trying to come out of the coma."

"That's great!" Hutch said enthusiastically.

"Ken, listen to me. Even if he comes out of the coma, we don't know what kind of condition he'll be in. He's still gonna need a lot of therapy to get back to normal."

"Yeah, but at least he'll be awake instead of just lying there."

"Since you're here you wanna help me get him into the chair?"

"Sure. What do ya want me to do?"

"Well, if you want to, you can just pick him up."

"Okay." Hutch said. Carefully, he slipped one arm under Starsky's knees and the other arm behind his partner's shoulders. Gently, he lifted him out of the bed and then sat him down in the chair. Cindy handed him a specially designed contoured pillow to put under Starsky's head to keep it upright so it would not fall to the side. She handed him a second pillow and instructed him to put it under Starsky's knees. When he had finished, Cindy handed Hutch a lap blanket to cover Starsky's lower body.

"I'm going to go see about getting those tests done." Cindy informed Hutch. "I know he'll be in good hands."

As she left the room, Hutch sat down beside Starsky and gently started stroking his arm. "I know you're in there somewhere, Buddy….and I know you're trying to come back to me. Just keep fighting…I know you can do it."

Hutch took charge of caring for Starsky when he was with him. Taking care of his partner when he was hurt was what Hutch did and he did it well. It was just another way the two men showed how much they cared about one another. Cindy came for Starsky just after lunch to take him to have the tests done she had mentioned that morning. It was almost three hours before she brought Starsky back to his room where Hutch was patiently waiting. She promised to let him know the results of the tests as soon as she knew anything. Hutch was washing Starsky and getting him ready for bed when Cindy returned.

"I just wanted to stop by for a minute and let you know the results of the tests the doctor did this afternoon. They are very promising. David is trying to wake up. I'm positive of that now. He's responding not only to painful stimuli, but also to certain sounds and he knows when he's being touched. He just isn't awake enough yet to respond verbally. I wish I could tell you how soon he'll actually open his eyes but I can't. It could be a few days or a few weeks. All we can do is wait and see." She smiled as she walked over to David's side and gently stroked the side of his face "But I don't think it'll be long before he's back with us." She told Hutch good night and left. Hutch finished getting Starsky ready for bed, his heart soaring with joy at the thought of his partner finally waking up soon.

Chapter 18

Three days later, Hutch was sitting in the courtyard with Starsky, relaxing in the sun and reading a car magazine aloud. Needing a break from reading, he laid the magazine down in the chair beside him and reached out to rub the back of Starsky's hand. "I sure wish you'd wake up so you can do your own reading." He said in a quiet teasing voice. Suddenly he felt a slight movement under his hand, startling him. He held his breath and then he felt it again. Starsky had moved his fingers! Not much, but enough that Hutch noticed. "Starsk?" he said anxiously "Can you hear me, babe?" He held his breath, waiting but Starsky didn't move his hand again. Hutch didn't care. He knew he hadn't imagined it. Starsky had moved his hand.

The rest of the day, Hutch watched Starsky carefully. He began to notice little things that he hadn't noticed before. A twitch of a muscle, the faint movement of a finger, a slight tilt to Starsky head when Hutch said his name. Hutch could hardly contain his excitement. After almost 5 weeks, Starsky was finally trying to wake up. When Cindy came out to check on them, Hutch excitedly told her the things he'd seen.

"I know" Cindy told him with a pleased smile. "I told you he was trying to wake up. And you'll see a lot more of the things you saw today as he gets stronger and closer to waking up."

"You really think he can hear me?"

"I'm sure he can. Just keep talking to him. When he does wake up he'll probably be disoriented and confused at first. And he's probably really scared right now because he can hear you but he can't open his eyes. It'll help if he knows he has you here and that he's safe. Just reassure him of that as much as you can."

"You don't have to worry none about that." Hutch assured her with a grin as he gently rubbed Starsky's shoulder affectionately.

Cindy smiled back and put her hand on Hutch's shoulder. "I have no doubt about that." She told him. "He has no idea how lucky he is to have a friend like you." As Cindy went back inside, Hutch leaned over closer to Starsky and said "Hey, buddy….did you hear that? You're gonna be okay, Starsky. You were hurt but you're gonna be okay now. I'm right here and I'm not leaving."

Hutch? Is that you? How'd I get hurt? Where am I? Why can't I open my eyes?

Stay with me, pal! Don't leave me alone. I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared!

Instinctively Hutch knew that Starsky could hear him. He didn't know how for sure, maybe it was that almost physic bond between them, but he knew. And he knew that Starsky was comforted by his voice and by his presence. After so many weeks with no response of any kind from Starsky as he lay locked in the depths of his own mind, Hutch was overjoyed at the idea of finally having his best friend back again. When Huggy Bear arrived later that afternoon for a visit, Hutch couldn't wait to share his good news with the black bartender. Huggy was overjoyed to when Hutch told him that Starsky was showing definite signs of waking up. He didnn't question it when Hutch said that Starsky could hear him. Huggy had never doubted that for a minute.

"That's the best news I've heard since this shit all went down." Huggy said enthusiastically. "I knew Curly would make it. And it's about time, you were starting to look a little peaked, my man."

Hutch took Starsky back to his room where the three men could be alone to visit. As was his habit when either one of them was hurt and in the hospital, Huggy had brought a feast. Even though Starsky couldn't join them, Huggy and Hutch enjoyed the food.

After Huggy left, Hutch started Starsky's nightly care. He noticed that Starsky seemed restless. He had began making more random movements, including moving his head from side to side throughout the day. He stopped his restless movements when Hutch stepped up beside him, gently putting a hand on his shoulder and saying, "Its okay, Starsk. I'm right here." Hutch smiled gently. "Time to get some sleep, buddy. Unless you wanna open your eyes for me. Then we can stay up all night."

Hutch had said it in a teasing voice, but he felt a jolt of excitement when he saw Starsky's eyelids flutter. He held his breath for a minute, then grabbed Starsky's hand and held it tightly. "Come on, babe…" he coaxed "Open your eyes. Wake up for me!" Starsky's eyelids fluttered again but remained closed.

For the next hour, Hutch tried to coax Starsky into opening his eyes without any success. Hutch sensed that Starsky was right on the edge of waking up but still couldn't quiet do it. Not yet anyway. Finally, Hutch sighed and gently squeezed Starsky's hand "Okay, Starsk, we'll try again tomorrow." Hutch walked over to the other bed, stripped down to his shorts and climbed in, pulling the blankets over his shoulders and closing his eyes.

Sometime late that night, while Hutch was sleeping soundly, Starsky's eyes fluttered and opened. He looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings and tried to still the pounding of his heart. Turning his head, he relaxed when he saw Hutch sleeping in the bed next to him but he knew that they weren't in either one of their apartments. His heart beat frantically as he tried to figure out what had happened to him and why he was in this unfamiliar room. He had only a vague memory of Josie and what the other cult members had done to him. Too tired to try and figure it out, he closed his eyes and drifted into a natural sleep instead of the coma that had been holding him in it's grip for so long.

Hutch awoke early from force of habit and quickly dressed. He knew the aide would be in soon with a breakfast tray for Hutch. He glanced over at Starsky and frowned. There was something different about the dark-haired man this morning but Hutch couldn't put his finger on what it was. Something about the sound of his breathing or maybe it was the relaxed position of his body, but there was definitely something different. Hutch walked over to Starsky's side and gently reached out to take his hand. Just like he'd done every morning since Starsky had slipped into the coma, Hutch said "Morning, buddy. Are you gonna open your eyes for me today?" He gasped and caught his breath when Starsky responded to his voice by turning his head towards the sound of Hutch's voice, his eyelids fluttering in response.

"Starsky?" Hutch said in a hushed voice, almost afraid to believe his own eyes when Starsky's eyes opened slightly and sliver of blue showed through. "Starsky, can you hear me?" Hutch said in a ragged voice that was thick with emotion.

Instead of speaking, Starsky slowly nodded his head, not much, but enough that Hutch knew he was actually awake and alert. Hutch grabbed the call button and rang for the nurse as tears gathered in his eyes and fell without shame down his face. "Welcome back, babe…" Hutch said his voice filled with such deep emotion that Starsky's eyes opened the rest of the way, looking at him with a puzzled expression in his eyes.

As one of the day nurses hurried into the room, Hutch told her that Starsky was finally awake. When she saw for herself that Starsky really did have his eyes open, she hurried from the room to find Cindy and the staff doctor. Cindy arrived first. She grinned happily when she saw that Starsky's eyes were open and found herself thinking how beautiful those sapphire blue eyes were. "Hi, Dave." she said quietly "I'm Cindy and I'm your physical therapist. Do you know where you are?" Starsky looked at her but didn't answer. Instead he turned his head and looked back at Hutch for answers to his unspoken questions.

"It's okay, Starsk." Hutch told him "You were hurt. Do you remember?"

After several long minutes, Starsky shook his head and said in a barely audible voice that was hoarse and raspy from not being used for so long "No….."

"You were in a hospital for awhile and then they sent you here." Hutch told him trying to relieve some of the anxiety in Starsky's gaze.

"Where…." Starsky managed to say, although it was obvious that it was an effort for him to speak.

"Our facility is called Indian Falls." Cindy told him. "We're a long term care facility for coma patients." Starsky's eyes filled fear at the words 'long term care' and 'coma'. Cindy reached out to touch his hand reassuringly, it was oblivious that he knew what the words meant. "You've been in a coma for almost six weeks." She told him "But you're awake now and we can start working on getting you out of here and back home where you belong."

"Home…" Starsky repeated, looking back at Hutch again.

"You bet, pal." Hutch told him with a grin."Just as soon as you're strong enough." Cindy motioned with a slight turn of her head for Hutch to step into the hall with her for a moment. Hutch nodded to let her know he understood, then he looked at Starsky and said quietly "I'll be right back…I'm just gonna step outside for a minute to talk to this little lady, okay?"

"K…." Starsky said, closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep, exhausted from the effort of talking and trying to make sense of what was happening to him.

Hutch stepped out into the hallway with Cindy. She looked at him with a smile and said, "Now that he's awake, you should see significant changes in his condition. He's still confused and disoriented but that's to be expected after being in a coma for so long. It should clear up quickly. Just stay with him and reassure him that he's okay and he's safe. The doctor should be here soon to examine him.

Hutch nodded and then asked a question of his own. "Will he remember what happened to him and how he ended up in a coma?"

"He should. It just might take some time. His mind's trying to catch up and fill in the blanks."

Hutch nodded and turned to go back into Starsky's room. Starsky was sleeping peacefully, so Hutch sat down beside him and let him sleep, passing time by reading a book he had brought with him..

The doctor arrived shortly after that. Starsky woke up as the doctor started examining him. More alert, he was obviously distressed by the doctor's presence. Sensing his discomfort, Hutch put a comforting hand on his shoulder while the doctor finished his exam.

"I'm going to schedule some tests for this afternoon to see where we stand but things look pretty good right now." The doctor said when he was done. He smiled at the two partners encouragingly. "We'll have you back on your feet again in no time, Detective Starsky."

"Home?" Starsky asked hopefully.

"Soon…very soon." The doctor said as he turned to leave the room.

Chapter 19

As the days passed, Starsky gradually became more alert and oriented. Slowly, his speech started to improve. His voice was still hoarse from disuse but at least he could talk to Hutch again. The big blond didn't realize how much he had missed the sound of Starsky's voice. The news spread rapidly through the facility that Starsky had come out of his coma, making him one of the facilities success stories.

Hutch talked to Captain Dobey and made arrangements to take time off work and stay Starsky until he improved and felt more secure in his unfamiliar surroundings. Starsky still had a rough road ahead, at least for the next couple of weeks, and he was going to need Hutch's strength to help him recover. That was another amazing thing about the bond between the two detectives, if one of them was hurt they always seemed to get better when they had the other one with them to draw strength from.

Cindy had decided not to do her regular session with Starsky for a few days. She felt it was more important for him to spend time with Hutch. She had shown Hutch the basic exercises and he would be able to do them in her place. Now that Starsky was awake, she could add new, more complicated, routines to her sessions. Routines that included getting him sitting up by himself as soon as possible and feeding himself so that the feeding tube could be removed. She knew she was going to meet some resistance from the brunet, she had already seen the stubborn pride that flashed in his eyes. She just hoped that future therapy sessions wouldn't turn into a battle of wills between her and her patient.

The first sign of rebellion on Starsky's part came that evening when Hutch started to help with his usual evening care. He didn't say much as Hutch emptied the catheter and took his vital signs, but he absolutely refused to let Hutch wash him or change his clothes. Hutch looked at his stubborn, fiercely independent partner, and handed him the washcloth. "Okay," he said, "Do it yourself."

Starsky took the cloth and awkwardly washed his face and hands. His movements were still slightly disconnected but he managed with a minimum of effort. When he'd finished, he gave Hutch a lop sided grin of satisfaction.

"Okay," Hutch said, folding his arms across his chest and smiling at his friend. "Now do the rest."

Starsky gave Hutch a dirty look but didn't reply as he took the washrag and finished washing as best he could. When he was done, Hutch said, "You want your clothes changed?" Starsky shook his head. "Okay. Do you want anything?" Hutch asked.

"To go home." Starsky said sullenly.

"I know that, buddy." Hutch said, smiling gently and rubbing Starsky's shoulder "But you can't do that just yet."

"I'm scared, Hutch…." Starsky whispered averting his gaze from his best friend's eyes.

"I know," Hutch said quietly "But, gonna be okay. Just give it a little more time." He sighed softly and looked at his friend fondly. "You almost died, buddy. I thought I was too later…that I'd already lost you." Hutch told him, sharing with Starsky the lingering fear he'd dealt with since he rescued Starsky from the cultists. "Then when you went into the coma and wouldn't wake up….I was so scared you'd never wake up…."

"I can't believe I've been out of it for almost six weeks." Starsky said, finally looking back at Hutch.

"Believe it, pal…I know. I've been here every day waiting for you to wake up."

Starsky sighed and closed his eyes, worn out from the stress of the day. He could barely keep his eyes open but there was a part of him that was afraid to go to sleep, afraid he wouldn't wake up again. He knew it was irrational but he was still scared. A soft knock on the door caught their attention.

"Come in" Hutch called out. The door opened and Cindy came into the room. She smiled at both of them and walked over to the opposite side of the bed.

"Hi, Dave. Remember me?"

"Cindy." Starsky said, letting his gaze slide boldly up and down her trim figure.

"That's right and if you're finished checking me out, I thought we could talk about what we're gonna do tomorrow." She grinned when she saw the flush that crept into Starsky's handsome face. "We're gonna be doing some things tomorrow to find out just how much you can do on your own now that you're awake. I'm sure you wanna get rid of that catheter and that feeding tube." Luke nodded "Well, we're gonna start with seeing how well you can feed yourself. If you can do that, then the feeding tube stays out. The catheter should come out in a day or two." She smiled at the happy look on Starsky's face. "We're also going to work on getting you used to sitting up by yourself again and we'll be using a wheelchair at first." She definitely did not miss the dirty look Starsky gave her when she mentioned using a wheelchair. She had a feeling they were going to butt heads over that issue. She ignored the fire in his eyes and said, "So, you might wanna think about getting some sleep because tomorrow is gonna be a busy day. And we're gonna get started bright and early."

Hutch caught the scowl on Starsky's face as Cindy left the room. "Okay, Starsk," He said, "What's the problem?"

"Nothing." Starsky said, refusing to talk about what was troubling him and Hutch knew better than to push the issue. Starsky hated feeling like an invalid even if that was what he was right now. He was still weak and uncoordinated. He could barely lift his arms to wash himself and he wasn't sure if his legs would even support his weight. And the last thing Starsky wanted from anybody was pity.

True to her word, Cindy came in the next morning after the breakfast trays had been collected. Smiling at Starsky who looked back at her warily, she said "First thing we gonna do is sit you up on the side of the bed for a little while. You'll probably feel really dizzy at first but that's normal so don't worry about it. I'm gonna be standing right in front of you and I'm gonna have Ken stand behind you and neither one of us is gonna let you fall."

Before Starsky could object, she threw back the covers and grabbed his legs, glancing at Hutch, she said "Ken, just get Dave's shoulders and help him sit up. On the count of three." Hutch got into position and waited for her signal. "One, two, three…" when she reached three, Cindy gently swung Starsky's legs over the side of the bed while Hutch held his shoulders and helped him raise into a sitting position. Immediately, Starsky felt a severe wave of dizziness sweep over him. He was sure he would have fallen on his face if Cindy hadn't been standing in front of him, supporting him and keeping him upright. It took several minutes but finally the dizziness started to pass, leaving him feeling slightly nauseated. "How ya doing, Dave?" Cindy asked

"I feel kinda sick…" he admitted

"That's okay. It's because your body's used to lying flat and not sitting up. It'll pass." She told him "Just let me know if you feel like you're going vomit, okay? I don't wanna have to change my clothes this early in the day." Starsky nodded slightly, ignoring her feeble attempt at humor. After a few more minutes of having him sit up on the edge of the bed, she nodded to Hutch to let him lay down again. "Now, I'm gonna let you rest for just a few minutes, then we're gonna get you up in the Geri-chair and take you down to therapy."

Starsky laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes willing his stomach to stop churning. Sooner than he would have liked, Cindy was asking Hutch to help get Starsky into the specially designed chair. He felt Hutch picking him up in his arms, then gently sitting him down in the chair. The foot was elevated and the back was reclined so that he was in a semi prone position instead of sitting straight up.

Starsky kept his eyes closed as he felt Cindy fastening a seat belt around his waist. "Thanks, Ken" she said as she moved around to the back of the chair. "We'll be back in a couple of hours." Starsky felt her pushing the chair out of the room and into the hallway. He opened his eyes, watching the lights on the ceiling passing overhead as she rolled him down the hall. He hated feeling so helpless but he knew that if he wanted to get better so he could go home, he'd have to do whatever Cindy told him to do. After so many weeks in a coma, he felt as weak as a baby and his muscles were almost as useless. The only thing that still seemed to work the same as before was his brain.

In the therapy room, Cindy adjusted the chair to a sitting position, forcing Starsky to sit up even if he didn't really want to. He fought back another wave of nausea. Cindy fastened a board to the chair in front of him making a table. She sat a plate, a glass and silverware on the board in front of him. Walking over to a small refrigerator in the corner, she came back with a small carton of milk that she poured into the glass and a container of chocolate pudding that she opened and spooned out onto the plate. She also laid some vanilla wafers on the plate. "Okay," she said "Eat."

Starsky reached out and slowly grabbed the glass. He had to concentrate to make his fingers close around the base. Slowly, he raised the glass to his mouth and took a sip, not spilling too much, in spite of the tremor in his hand. The vanilla wafers he could manage without too much trouble, but his fingers refused to grasp the silverware, he kept dropping it. "Okay," Cindy said gently before he got too frustrated "We'll have to work on that a little more. But it looks like you can handle drinking out of a glass and eating finger foods." She told him. "So, I'm going to talk to the nutritionist about changing your diet order." Starsky rewarded her with a faint smile "They'll probably put you on liquids first, then soft foods and then normal food. We need to make sure you can keep it down okay after being on the feeding tube for so long. And I don't think it'll take long for you to get used to using silverware again, your fingers just need to get a little stronger and we need to work on your coordination a little." She put her hands on her hips and looked at Starsky "Are you ready to get into the wheelchair for awhile?"

"No." Starsky said clearly, shaking his head stubbornly. Cindy saw the same fire in his eyes that she'd seen the night before when she mentioned the wheelchair. She was right, they were going to butt heads on that issue.

"Alright, we'll work on something else for a while." She said "But you're getting in that chair before we go back to your room." She removed the dishes from the lap tray and replaced them with some wooden blocks of different sizes. For the next half hour, she worked with Starsky on sorting the blocks according to size and color and stacking them. The exercise was designed to help improve his fine motor skills and his eye/hand coordination. It didn't take her long to realize that Starsky was the kind of patient who was going to get easily frustrated when he couldn't do something that he could have done without even thinking about it before. And his way of dealing with that frustration was to get angry and refuse to cooperate. She knew she had to gain his trust and make him see the benefits of what she was doing if she wanted his cooperation.

She put away the blocks and sat on a stool in front of him so that Starsky was forced to look at her.

"Okay, Dave, I'm gonna be straight with you. I know you don't want to be doing this…and that it's frustrating as hell to you." She paused to let her words sink in "But the things I'm doing right now are going to tell me how much you can and can't do and what areas we need to work on so you can get out of here and go home. Now if something is really frustrating you or you really don't want to do it, tell me and we won't do it during that session. Okay? But I also want you tell me why you don't wanna do it." She smiled "Do we have a deal?"

"Okay." Starsky finally said with a hint of a smile.

"Hey, at least I got a smile out of ya." She told him with a grin "I bet all the girls love that killer smile." She saw the sparkle in those sapphire eyes and knew she was starting to make some headway. She sensed that David Starsky was stubborn and used to being in control and the biggest thing they'd have to overcome was his anger at his present condition. She knew he really didn't want to try getting in the wheelchair, not yet, so she decided to let that go and cut their session short for today. She had a feeling that spending the day with Ken was going to be more beneficial to him right now.

Starsky looked mildly surprised but grateful when she told him that she was finished for now. She wheeled him back to his room where Hutch was waiting for him.. Turning his care over to his partner, Cindy said "Okay, you two…why don't you go outside for awhile? I have a feeling that you don't usually spend much time inside." She smiled when both men flashed identical grins at her. They were both very attractive men and she was sure that every woman they met harbored their own secret fantasies about these two.

After she left to care for her other patients, Hutch grinned and wheeled Starsky's chair out of the room and down to the courtyard. As they went outside, Starsky sighed and leaned back his head, enjoying the warmth of the California sun on his face. Hutch watched over him vigilantly, overjoyed to have his partner on the mend and by his side.

Chapter 20

Starsky lay back in the warm water of the bath and closed his eyes, feeling his muscles relaxing as the water swirled around him. He had to admit that it felt good.

The therapy sessions with Cindy were starting to help. He could feed himself now using his silverware and they had started him on solid foods that morning which was a big relief. At least the food in this place was more appetizing than in most hospitals and institutions but he missed his regular junk food diet. He had finally let Cindy coax him into the wheelchair but he still hated it. The muscles in his legs were getting stronger every day but he still couldn't stand for long periods of time or walk long distances without his knees starting to buckle.

Hutch was still staying with him and he was grateful for his partner's company, especially at night. He still didn't want to be alone although he did start encouraging Hutch to go home sometimes during the day so he could change clothes and have some time for himself. Starsky opened his eyes as the door opened and Cindy came in. She smiled as she reached out to turn off the water and hit the button to let the water drain from the tub. "How was that?" she asked

"Pretty good." Starsky admitted with a crooked smile.

"I figured you'd enjoy it. You're doing really well, Dave. I'm proud of you."

"I have you to thank for that."

"Hey, you did a lot of work once we stopped butting heads over your therapy." Cindy reminded him with a soft laugh.

Starsky chuckled. He knew he hadn't been the most cooperative patient in the beginning. But once he started being able to do more things for himself, he started working harder to improve the skills he did have. His upper body strength had returned and thanks to Cindy's exercises, his lower body was in good shape too. If he continued to improve, he hoped to go home at the end of the week. His muscle tone had been restored and his joints were functional.

After the water had drained from the tub, Cindy handed Starsky a towel so he could dry off as much as possible before she opened the side of the tub that swung open and closed to get patients in and out of the bath. Once she had the side lifted up, she helped him to step out of the tub and back into his wheelchair. She handed him his tee shirt, watching as he pulled it on over his head. She bent down and slid a pair of sweat pants up over his legs, watching carefully as Starsky pushed himself up out of the chair and balanced himself long enough to pull the pants up around his slender waist.

Later that afternoon, Huggy surprised Starsky with a bagful of treats, including a Huggy special with French fries. Starsky grinned as he enthusiastically dug into his food until he couldn't eat another bite.

"You'll be out of here soon, Curly." Huggy told him with a grin "And then you can go back to your old ways."

"I hope so." Starsky said "I'm dying for a pizza with the works and a cold beer."

"At least you ain't so danged skinny anymore." Huggy said with a teasing grin. Starsky had regained the weight he had lost and his face had filled out again softening the contours of his rugged features. "Good stiff wind and you'd have blown away."

Huggy stayed a little longer before he had to return for the evening trade at the Pits. After they were alone, Starsky seemed quiet and withdrawn. Finally, he looked at Hutch and said,

"Hutch, what exactly happened to me?"

"What do you remember?" Hutch asked cautiously. He knew that Starsky's memory of his ordeal was patchy at best. There were parts, Hutch hoped he never remembered. It would be best for him if he didn't.

"I remember those freaks and that chick, Josie. She called herself the Dark Angel and kept calling me the Black Knight. She had some kinda connection to Marcus, didn't she?"

"She was his daughter."

"Oh, man…you mean that freak had a kid? No wonder she was so fucked up." Starsky said slowly. A frowned creased his brow. "I remember them planning to sacrifice me in one of their weird ceremonies." He was silent for several minutes and then looked at his partner for guidance. "Something else happened to me besides what they did to me, didn't it?"

"I'm afraid so. Do you remember being in the hospital?"

"Kinda." Starsky replied in a tone that told Hutch that he didn't really.

Hutch took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He prepared himself to explain to Starsky what had happened to him.

"There was a doctor at the hospital named Ramos. Does that name sound familiar?"

"No. Should it?"

"How about the name Marcella Ramos?"

"I told you I don't know anybody named Ramos." Starsky said in an annoyed voice.

"Okay…calm down." Hutch told him. "Marcella Ramos was the doctor's wife. She committed suicide about four years ago and it apparently sent the doctor over the edge."

"And he was still practicing medicine?"

"Yeah, he was. Apparently, nobody realized how seriously crazy he was." Hutch said ruefully.

"So…what's this got to do with me?" Starsky asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Starsky, apparently the wife had a long criminal history…prostitution, theft, a couple of assaults. You busted her for solicitation just before you were promoted to Detective. She killed herself a few weeks later."

"And the doctor blamed me?" Starsky said in a startled voice, filling in the pieces for himself.

"That's about the size of it. So, he cooked up this drug cocktail and gave it to you. It made you go into a coma."

"Did you nail him?"

"He shot himself before we could arrest him." Hutch said quietly.

"So, he's dead too?"

"Afraid so." Hutch watched as Starsky fell silent, lost in his own private thoughts. In a quiet voice, he said, "I almost lost you, pal. First, Marcus' goons and all the shit they did to you and then the doctor trying to get his twisted version of revenge. But, you surprised everybody, buddy. You proved just how strong you are again by pulling through in spite of everything."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm walking around with a big target painted on my back." Starsky said drolly. "And every crazy within a thousand mile radius has a bead on me."

"It's okay, buddy…" Hutch said, throwing his arm around the smaller man's shoulders. "You're okay now."

"Yeah, I am…as long as I have you to watch my back." Starsky said with a smile.

"Let's get some sleep." Hutch suggested. Starsky quietly agreed and the two men got ready for bed.

Starsky awake with a start. He lay there staring into the darkness, tears burning his eyes, as he remembered the terror of the dream that had awakened him. He turned his head and glanced at the other bed. Hutch was still sleeping soundly, undisturbed by Starsky's dream. Starsky sighed and turned his head to stare back at the ceiling. He knew he was safe but the lingering memories of what the twisted disciples of Simon Marcus had done to him were starting to come back to him. This was the second time they had captured and tortured him, and each event had left separate scars on his psyche that could never be erased. The fear of falling victim to them again was almost overwhelming. It was long time before he finally slept.

When he awoke again, in the early morning hours, it was because of a severe cramp in his left leg. He moaned softly and tried to straighten out his leg to work the cramp out but he couldn't quite manage it. Hutch was immediately there, at his side, kneeling over him with a concerned expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Starsk?"

"Cramp…my leg." Starsky told him through tightly clenched teeth

"Which one?" Hutch asked.

"The left one."

Hutch gently began to massage the bunched up calf muscle in Starsky's leg, trying to work out the cramp. "How's that? Better?"

"It's getting there." Starsky hissed "Keep rubbing it, will ya? It really hurts."

"Oh, yeah…sorry." Hutch said self-consciously, returning to his deep massage of the cramped muscle until he felt it loosening up and relaxing.

"Thanks, that's good." Starsky said with a grateful sigh of relief. He settled back down against his pillow and drifted off to sleep. Hutch smiled down at his sleeping partner. He had always admired Starsky spirit and his resilience. Hutch hoped that was one thing that Starsky would never lose.

Later that day, Starsky took his first faltering steps using the parallel bars. These sessions were more taxing and tiring than any of the therapy sessions had been. But, within two days, Starsky was taking his first steps alone with Hutch walking by his side for support. Starsky was confident that he would be able to go home at the end of the end as anticipated.

Starsky continued to experience severe cramps in his legs during the night which Hutch skillfully massaged away. Cindy had told the two friends that Starsky would continue to get the cramps for a while as his muscles adjusted to being active again. Starsky understood that, but the cramps still hurt like hell and disrupted his sleep. Starsky still got frustrated easily but not as much as he had in the beginning. He knew that he had come a long way in a relatively short period. He also knew that he was lucky to be alive. Slowly, he was recovering from his ordeal and soon he would going home.

EPILOGUE

Starsky rocked anxiously back and forth from one foot to the other. He was finally going home. He glanced up and smiled when Cindy came into the room. He was pleased to see the therapist that he owed his recovery to.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye." Cindy told him with a grin and a hug. "I'm gonna miss my favorite patient."

"I'm gonna miss you too." Starsky told her with a wicked grin.

"There's that smile again." She teased him "I'll bet you're got the girls lined up just waiting for you to ask them out."

"I'd rather ask you out some time." He told her

"I'd really like that but it's against the rules." She told him regretfully. She leaned closer and whispered "But I can still give you a kiss goodbye as long as you don't tell anybody." She gently kissed his lips, startled only momentarily when he suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, returning the kiss with a fierce intensity. When he released her, she blushed and felt the butterflies in her stomach. "Goodbye, David Starsky." She said, hurrying out of the room before she forgot that she was a professional and he was her patient.

Hutch came into the room as Cindy was leaving. He looked at his partner and grinned widely. "You ready to go?"

"You bet." Starsky said, grinning back. Hutch took his arm and helped Starsky to his feet. Even though he no longer needed the assistance to walk, he still had to take his time and concentrate so he wouldn't stumble and fall. But Cindy had assured him that would go away as he got stronger and gained more confidence in his ability to walk again.

Starsky smiled happily as the two men crossed the parking lot to where Hutch had parked his battered vehicle. There had been days when Starsky thought this day would never come and now that it was finally here, he was overwhelmed with emotion. As Hutch headed towards Starsky's apartment, Starsky's eyes drank in the familiar scenery that spelled home. He felt as if he had been gone for a lifetime.

As the two detectives walked through the door and into his apartment, a chorus of voices yelled "Surprise" and "Welcome home!" Starsky grinned, ignoring the tears that started running down his cheeks. All of his friends were there to welcome his return; Huggy, two of his waitresses, the Dobeys and their two children, and several friends and colleagues from headquarters. It was good to be home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Across town, deep in the bowels of the prison, kept safely isolated from the other inmates, the tall man with the long dark hair and beard sat silently in a corner of his cell. His cold, dead eyes stared straight ahead, seeing images in his mind that only he could see. Under his breath, he whispered, "The Dark Angel is gone. She failed in her mission. The Black Knight and his counterpart must pay. My dreams will show me the way to seek my revenge when the time is right….when the time is right. He closed his eyes, a ghost of smile lingering on his lips as he began to hum quietly under his breathe.

THE END?

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