Role Reversal

By Cynatnite

“No.”

Simple, final and to the point. Starsky’s eyes were gentle and not a spark of anger or resentment was there which is why it confused Hutch. He had laid it out with his heart and he was sure of the sense of it. The natural step was upon them and knowing his partner as well as he did, he didn’t expect this reaction.

They sat on Starsky’s couch with Hutch close. He could just reach over and touch his partner’s face. So tempting was the idea, Hutch stuffed his hand under his knee instead. “You made up your mind there pretty quick, partner.”

“You think you’re the only one in this partnership that’s had those same thoughts?” Starsky tilted his head and leaned in. “Hutch, since I got out of the hospital, you’ve all I’ve been thinking about. I love bein’ so close to you. It’s easy to want you.”

Hutch shook his head in confusion. “Wait. You’re saying you do want me, but the answer is no?”

“We’ve been best friends since before the academy, Hutch. After we partnered up, we got even closer. I suppose it’s only natural after everything we’ve been through.”

“Have I been reading you wrong all this time?”

“No.” Starsky turned closer to Hutch. “I’ve seen it a million times. Friends become lovers and when it doesn’t work out, there’s nothing left of the relationship. It’s over.”

“You think it would happen to us.”

“I don’t know.” Starsky shrugged his shoulders. “You’re too important to me to risk it.”

“Starsk,” Hutch began.

“Listen to me,” Starsky interrupted. “I’ve thought about us being together a lot…more in the last six months than ever before. You are a big part of my heart, Hutch, and losing that…well, if that were to happen, I would have rather died and not come back.”

“But we’d be better than we are now,” Hutch implored. “We love each other, Starsky, and we owe it to ourselves to take full advantage and be happy.”

“I’m happy with what we’ve got right now. If we did this, and it didn’t work out…” Starsky shook his head. “I can’t take this kind of chance with us.”

Starsky watched Hutch get to his feet and go to the window. “Hutch, I’m not rejecting you.”

“I know.” Hutch watched a bird land on the electrical line outside. “You feel the same as I do, but you don’t want to do anything about it.” He turned around. “I was fully prepared to hear you didn’t feel the same, Starsk, but this…”

Pushing up from the couch, Starsky moved to Hutch and stood close to him. “Does this change things with us now?”

Hutch took a deep breath then let it out. “I don’t know. I’m a little pissed right now. I don’t want this to turn into full blown resentment later on.”

“We’ll work it out like we always do. Even if we don’t, you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

With the Starsky half-smile, Hutch managed a weak one. “Yeah, I know.” The anger inside evaporated and Hutch pulled Starsky close. “I never want to lose you.”

Starsky relished Hutch’s warmth and returned the comforting hug. “You won’t,” he promised.

The rest of the evening was finished with a movie on TV and when Hutch got back to his place he poured a glass of wine and went to the greenhouse. It was a rejection, Hutch thought. Albeit not one he expected, but it was small comfort knowing Starsky’s feelings were the same as his.

New arguments formed in his mind, but Hutch had no doubt Starsky would not change his mind in the foreseeable future. It was understandable. In their years together, they watched friends become lovers only to see it not last. Friends divorcing and remarrying was almost commonplace and it was understandable Starsky wouldn’t want to suffer that especially when it came to their relationship.

He wasn’t worried about Starsky finding a new love. Far from it. Starsky had accepted the fact he would never marry. His partner would never have gotten to ‘I do’ with Kira even if he hadn’t slept with the woman. Hutch still regretted his actions. While it had exposed Kira for what she was, he had hurt his partner and after that fiasco, Hutch swore he would never set himself between Starsky and happiness, even if it had been a lie.

But what they had was far from a lie. It was a truth and one that couldn’t be ignored. At least, Hutch knew he couldn’t ignore it. Starsky wasn’t ignoring it all. In fact, he faced it head on. He wondered how long it took for his partner to come to this conclusion about furthering their relationship.

After the intense conversation, they both slid into their standard roles as easy as getting into bed. Hutch almost laughed aloud at the metaphor. He still wanted more. He always would, and Hutch was confident Starsky would change his mind. They needed time and being the patient man he was, Hutch would give it.

~*~

The next morning Starsky headed up the backstairs into Hutch’s apartment. They had talked twice since the conversation at his place and every indication was that Hutch seemed to be dealing okay with his decision. Starsky knew it hurt, but he was convinced Hutch would see the right of it in time.

He poured two cups of coffee while Hutch showered. Starsky set both cups on the table and went to the radio. He grimaced at the AM talk radio station and turned to one more of his liking. KC and the Sunshine Band blared and he moved his hips while he fixed toast.

When Starsky turned, Hutch was standing near the table with a grin on his face. “Sit down and drink your coffee, Blondie.”

The smile never left Hutch as he took a seat. “You’re here early.”

“Checking up on you is all it is.” Starsky found a spoon and sat down across from Hutch. “I figured I owed you a day of letting you get your way after last night.”

The loud disco on the radio didn’t bother Hutch in the least. Most days he would gripe until his partner shut off the annoying music. “I’m okay, Starsk. Really.”

“Today’ll be a judge of that.” Starsky stirred the sugar into the coffee, then grabbed the jelly. “A visit to the tofu joint will cure what ails you.”

Hutch chuckled and watched Starsky load the toast with a pile of jelly. “Sounds good. Tonight, I treat.”

After smearing the fruit onto the bread, Starsky looked up. “What?”

“Did you check the fridge, buddy?”

Starsky scooted the chair back and reached for the refrigerator handle. He pulled and sitting at the bottom were the two largest T-bone steaks he had ever seen. They were covered with marinade and decorated with onions. “Oh, Hutch!”

The pleasure on Starsky’s face, Hutch never tired of. “I started them last night. I figured by tonight they’ll be tender enough to cut with a fork.”

The vision made Starsky’s mouth water. He closed the door and looked at the beaming smile on Hutch’s face. “I’ll bring the good wine.”

They finished their small breakfast and went out the back to the alley where Starsky’s Torino and Hutch’s latest vehicle sat. When Hutch started for his car, Starsky halted.

“Forget it, Hutch.”

“What?”

“You haven’t cleaned that crate out in weeks and the seat hurts my ass.”

“It’s a hell of a lot safer than that coke can…”

Starsky held his hand up. “Not another word. Coke can on wheels, strawberry with a chalk line, tomato with bird shit…you could write a book with all the names you’ve called her. She’s held up a lot longer than your others.”

“Starsky…”

“Hutch, she’s a part of us,” Starsky pleaded. He went to his car and put his hand on the hood. “This is our signature car.”

“And every bad guy out there knows it.” Seeing the imploring look on his partner’s face, Hutch shook his head. “I thought today was supposed to be my day.”

“Just this one time, Hutch. Please!”

With a dramatic heavy sigh, Hutch went to the eyesore. “Next week we take mine. I’ll clean it out and have the seat fixed.”

Hutch kept his smile to himself as he watched Starsky saunter with happiness to the driver’s side of the car. He almost always let Starsky have his way and this was no exception. If it made his partner happy, he was ready to give it.

~*~

The mundane matters of police work continued on for the remainder of the week. Starsky and Hutch spent less time on the street which was fine. Both were growing weary of the harsh life and more often than not, younger officers with brash enthusiasm were taking over their old beat and old ways.

They spent the weekend at the beach and a car show. It was almost dark Saturday when Starsky dropped Hutch off at his place. Sundays were for time apart and preparing for the week ahead. With laundry, grocery shopping and other more commonplace matters of day to day living, that was one of the few days off they spent apart from one another.

Hutch tossed his jacket on the couch and stripped off the holster. After hanging it up, he went to the kitchen and got a beer from the fridge. He stripped off his shirt as he drank it and by the time he reached the bathroom, the beer was half drunk.

The hot shower felt good and Hutch welcomed the massage on his back. The constant walking from the car show had shown itself by way of the growing ache. When Hutch finished he slipped on his sweats.

He spent the remainder of the evening eating a sandwich and caring for his plants. Hutch stopped at one and the deadened leaves sent the message. It couldn’t be saved. He found the trashcan and carried it to the greenhouse. Hutch pulled the plant out of the pot and set it on top of the trash. He pushed down and when it refused to go any farther, Hutch pulled the bag out.

After tying the ends together, he headed out the back door, down the stairs to the alley. Hutch started for the garbage bin and stopped near his car. He peered inside and saw the clutter.

Since he was already here, he figured he’d get started on the job. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about it tomorrow. Hutch opened the passenger door and pulled out several newspapers sitting on the floor.

“What a pretty blond.”

The snide comment froze Hutch for a moment. He was slow to straighten and when he did all he saw was the outline of a figure in the darkened alley. Unease was filling his chest and his heart pounded in response. “You better get out of here,” Hutch warned. “You don’t want my kind of trouble.”

Low chuckles erupted not far from him and Hutch turned his head. On the other side of the car, near the stairs leading to his apartment stood another. Two against one, Hutch thought. He might have a chance.

Hearing the shuffling of steps coming closer, Hutch almost closed his eyes. Three. This wasn’t good. Instinct kicked in and Hutch ran towards the one that had come in his direction. Like a football player, he plowed over the man and almost lost his footing.

He managed to start running, but was soon tackled down to the hard cement. The wind was knocked from him and Hutch grimaced at the scraping of gravel against his cheek. He fought with everything he had and every struggle was met with two or more fists.

One punch landed in the back of his head and he was stunned from the impact. His hands were yanked behind his back and a rope wrapped around his wrists. The hands came off of him and when Hutch tried to get to his feet, a kick to the ribs felled him again.

“Look at, Blondie!” one jeered.

Their taunts meant nothing to Hutch as he struggled to catch his breath. He looked up at his attackers, but his vision was blurred with dirt and pain. He was kicked down again and one of the assailants put a knee to his back. A cloth was placed in his mouth and another over his eyes.

“Go get the car,” one ordered.

Hutch lowered his head to the ground and took even breaths. He had to stop them from taking him anywhere. He couldn’t count the dead bodies he’d seen when the victim went with their killer out of fear rather than fight.

Struggling to get to his feet, he heard more taunts and jeers. There was a kick to his lower back and Hutch fell to his knees. His right knee screamed in agony and Hutch wondered if he had done more damage than the attempt on his life done to it some years ago.

The rolling of tires across the gravel of the alley got his attention and Hutch’s fear grew. He couldn’t find the footing to get up. Every sound was acute with the blindfold over his eyes. The footsteps came near him and when the rough hands grabbed his arms, Hutch tried to kick at them. He was given a hit to the ribs for his struggle then thrown into the trunk of the car.

Time lost its meaning. Blind, gagged and tied, Hutch had no concept of where he was being taken or why. Starsky usually called by noon on Sundays and that was still hours away. No plans had been made to meet. He could only hope when the car did stop and the trunk opened, he had enough strength to somehow fight them off.

Hutch had to see them in order to do it and to identify his kidnappers. He turned his head sideways and rubbed it along the bottom of the trunk. It took some doing but he got it above his eyes.

He was still blind in the dark trunk, but his feet were free. The car was slowing and Hutch maneuvered to his back and in the tight space readied to attack. Once it stopped, he held his breath.

It seemed to take forever for the lid to open and once it did, Hutch kicked out at the first form he saw. He heard a loud curse upon the impact and before he could go after another he was yanked out of the trunk and thrown to the ground.

He got a hard kick to the back and Hutch rolled in agony. The blindfold was straightened and he was dragged away from the car. Where they went, Hutch had no idea.

The strength was leaving him and he was hurting from the assault. Hutch was tossed on an old cot. He could tell from the feel and the sounds. The horrid odor of old urine and mold hit him and he turned his head away from the offensive smells.

“Turn on the radio.”

Loud disco blared in Hutch’s ears and the distinctive voices soon became apparent. “Remember, no names, fellas.”

Hutch heard liquid being poured into a glass. The chug from the bottle told him it was probably liquor.

“We ain’t killin’ him?”

“Man, I told you. Murder gets heat. This is better.”

The snorting Hutch heard sent a message of drugs. Cocaine, probably.

“Damn, this is some righteous shit!”

“Pass it over, man. I’m ready to fucking party.”

The sharing of the drugs wasn’t lost on Hutch and he started working at getting the blindfold off his eyes again. If he was getting out of here, he needed to see where he was going.

A dip in the mattress and Hutch’s heart froze. Someone was there and he tried to scoot away.

“We got you, Blondie,” was the taunt. “You ain’t going nowhere.”

The blade brought to his throat stilled Hutch. It was dragged along his neck and he winced at the small slice across his skin. His shirt was grabbed and the knife tore into the material.

Too afraid to move and fearful of what happened if he stayed warred in Hutch’s mind. He did the only thing he could as his sliced shirt was pulled away. “I’m a cop. You don’t want to do this.”

The man stilled, then laughed. It chilled Hutch more than the cold air on his skin. “Even if you are a cop.” Hutch felt a hand slide up his thigh and settle on his backside. “Where’s your badge?”

“Jesus,” Hutch breathed. Panic was starting to set in and he struggled to move away.

“Think he’d tell his brother pigs?”

A barrage of laughter echoed around Hutch. The knife started on his pants and Hutch began resisting even more. He was nicked several times during the process and when his underwear was cut away, Hutch almost started crying. He sucked it in determined not to show his fear to these animals.

More footsteps came over and Hutch was rolled to his back. He tried kicking out at the men, but they avoided his feet with ease.

“Man, you need to relax,” chuckled one.

The cold splash of liquor landed on his face and his body. The alcohol seeped into the cuts made from the knife. Hutch tried to move away from because of the stinging, but cold hard hands held him still. The slow growl of a zipper got his attention and Hutch renewed his struggles.

“Damn, this some fucking wild blond!”

The lewd laughter continued and Hutch got a punch to the face for his trouble. One grabbed the back of his head and took a handful of hair. “Okay, Blondie! You’re gonna take this and if you bite down, I’ll punch out every fucking tooth you’ve got in that pretty head. If you don’t open your mouth, I’ll do the same. It’s easier to fuck a mouth with no teeth.”

When a hard erection was rubbed across his closed mouth, Hutch recoiled. He tried to pull away, but his head was yanked back by the hair. “Open your mouth, bitch!”

Hands held Hutch down and the next punch across the face left him dazed and seeing stars behind the blindfold.

The penis was pushed into his mouth and Hutch gagged as it was shoved almost to the back of his throat. The smell was vile, his mouth was stretched wide until his lips hurt and as the battering continued his jaw began to ache.

“Fuck, yeah!” said Hutch’s rapist.

“Look like he’s been doing that for years,” one said.

“I wanna try something. Come on and help.” Another body moved in next to Hutch and his legs were grabbed. When his limp penis was taken in hand, Hutch thrashed about.

The man raping his mouth stopped. “No teeth! Goddamn it!”

The yank on Hutch’s head was brutal and he was slowly losing consciousness from the gaps of lost oxygen. As his limp organ was played with, it started to grow. No! Hutch screamed internally.

When the hard prick left his mouth, Hutch took in large gulps of air. The ropes on his wrists tore into the tender skin as he fought against what was happening to him. His penis had grown to full size against his wishes.

How could he could enjoy what was happening to him? The hands still had their grip on his body to keep him restrained while forcing this pleasure. “Don’t!” Hutch whispered.

Vulgar chuckles permeated his brain as they took turns masturbating him. Tears were stinging his eyes under the blinding wrap as the orgasm took hold. Hot semen landed on his stomach and after one scooped it up, it was rubbed across his mouth. He moved his head away from the humiliating taunts.

“Blondie, you’re a horny bitch.”

With a loud yell, Hutch’s wrath erupted and he lashed out with his feet. They landed on one of the assailants and Hutch rolled to his stomach. He didn’t get anywhere as several fists hit him all over.

They stopped and he groaned in agony. He was turned face down and the ropes left his bleeding wrists. Hutch’s arms were stretched out and soon bound to the rails of the cot. The ropes cut into the tender skin and when Hutch’s legs were pulled apart he groaned. They were given the same treatment as his other limbs.

The rapists left him and helplessness overtook Hutch. There was no stopping what was about to happen. He heard their exchanges of who was going to be first and the obscene laughter that followed.

Every sense was alive. The course cloth over his face felt like sandpaper, the ropes bit deeper into his wrists as he pulled on them. The cool air on his skin seeped into every pore and with his legs spread wide, the chill on his ass made him shiver. Hutch tried to swallow, but the inside of his mouth and throat hurt. It was ragged pain from the raping of his mouth.

‘Three Dog Night’ blasted from the radio singing ‘Shambala’. More drinking and snorting of drugs came from the trio of rapists. The bodies came too close too soon. A smack on his backside startled Hutch and he buried his face into the moldy mattress.

His ass cheeks were pried apart so far it hurt. There was no preparation and no warning. The pressure lasted only a second, but the agonizing pain tore through his anus to his lower back and down his legs. Hutch screamed as the onslaught of horror was forced inside of him.

The tearing into his body seemed to last forever and Hutch could only lay there and take what was being shoved into him. Hands clenched his hips for leverage and even with the rape happening at this very instant he fought to find a way to control what was happening to him. Sobs tore through his heart and Hutch inwardly begged to find Starsky to ask for forgiveness.

He was determined not to let them know how broken he was feeling inside and Hutch yelled his anger. “Fucking bastards!”

The brutal pumping continued. “Yeah,” one breathed with heavy power over him. “We’re all gonna fuck the shit out of you.”

The rapist finished his assault and ejaculated into Hutch’s bowels. He was soon replaced by another and when the hard prick was pushed inside, Hutch groaned. In the midst of the second assault, he realized Starsky wasn’t coming. He didn’t want him to.

Hutch wanted to die and envisioning Starsky seeing him so degraded and broken brought him lower than he’d ever known. He prayed for death as the battering continued. Hutch gave up the fight and let them do what they wanted.

How much time had passed, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. They each took their turn and in between the alcohol and the drugs, they used him more than once. Sometimes two at a time.

At one point, Hutch heard them discussing double penetration, but voted against it. They didn’t want to risk untying him. He hoped they would. He’d fight enough so they could kill him. Hutch had no intention of coming out of it alive.

In the end, they cleaned up their mess and left him tied to the small cot.

~*~

The loud ringing telephone forced Starsky’s eyes open and he considered throwing it against the wall for good measure. Instead, he picked up the receiver and brought it under the covers with him. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Starsky!”

“Cap’n, it’s Sunday. You don’t own me until tomorrow.”

“Dave, you need to get over to Hutch’s.”

The seriousness in Dobey’s voice got Starsky’s attention and he sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s gone.”

Starsky slammed the phone down and was dressed, out the door and at Hutch’s in record time. Yellow tape blocked off the alley behind Hutch’s apartment and Starsky didn’t have to flash his badge as he ducked under it. He found Dobey near the car.

The bagged trash sat near the open car door along with newspapers on the cement. Starsky’s eyes scanned the remnants of the paper which had blown partway down the alley. “What happened?”

“One of the neighbors came down and found this. She went to Hutch’s and he wasn’t home.”

“Vicky whatshername.” Starsky struggled to put a last name to the middle-aged divorced woman.

“Walsh,” Dobey corrected. “It alarmed her enough to call it in.”

Several scenarios played out in Starsky’s mind. “Witnesses?”

“So far we’ve got a guy who walks his dog out front spotting a slow-moving mustang about eleven last night.” Dobey’s eyes went from one end of the alley to the other. “We put out an APB, but it’s not much to go on.”

The lump in Starsky’s throat hurt and he had a tough time swallowing it. “Cross-reference that with our past cases and it’ll help narrow down the search.”

“I’ve got a team on it already.” Dobey put his hand on Starsky’s arms. “This may have been random, Dave.”

“Snatching a cop isn’t random.” Starsky started towards his car. “I’m going to see Huggy and start putting the word out.”

Once inside, Starsky set his hands on the steering wheel. His grip tightened until his knuckles turn white. He got a handle on the raging panic and turned on the ignition.

~*~

Old Joe shuffled along the busy sidewalk mumbling to himself. He kept his eyes down and rubbed his long beard with a dirty hand. He was glad to see the sidewalk was mostly empty of people. They were in their churches praying for who knows what for whatever it was they didn’t deserve.

All Old Joe wanted was his bed. The night before empty bottles and cans were thrown at him. One bottle had hit in the middle of his back as he tried to get away. His fifty-plus years of hard living made it difficult to move fast enough. He cursed under his breath at the ache he still felt.

Crossing the street was a task within itself. Old Joe couldn’t hurry like he wanted and wound up spewing several epitaphs at the drivers who honked their horns at him. Once there he found his old building where he had left it.

Old Joe’s tooth hurt when he grinned. He patted the cheap wine bottle in his coat pocket and knew the pain would soon pass. Lowering his head, Old Joe cut through the alley behind the abandoned office and he pushed opened the stiff back door.

Muttering his pleasure at finding the place empty, Old Joe scurried down the hallway and once in the large room, he headed to the far side. He stopped in his tracks. Bound and naked laying face-first was a man.

“Goddamn!” Old Joe swore. In his bed was a trespasser and it appeared the squatter wasn’t about to move.

He did an about face and left. Old Joe went back out to the street and spent half an hour begging for a dime only to remember he didn’t need one. He got to the phone booth and pushed zero.

“Get me the coppers!....Goddamn it, right now!” He scratched his beard and mumbled some more. “You a copper?...Trespasser stole my bed!...He’s lyin’ right in it!...I don’t care he broke in! Get him out of my bed!...Palm Avenue and 52^nd Street…I expect you to cart him off to jail!...I’ll be there.”

Old Joe hung up the phone and headed away from the building. He wasn’t coming back until the bastard was gone.

~*~

Starsky finished the black coffee off and tossed the cup in the back seat. It had been over two hours since finding Hutch’s car. The best he could figure Hutch had been missing at least ten hours…maybe longer.

Any scenario which gave a negative outcome, Starsky outright dismissed it. He wasn’t about to entertain anything that didn’t bring Hutch home alive. He rubbed his tired eyes and continued the drive. Nothing was coming from the investigation into their past cases and Starsky had a couple more snitches to put the screws to.

The call over the radio was annoying and Starsky reached for the microphone. He was about to order calls related to Hutch to be directed to another channel when he heard the details. An anonymous caller had phoned in a complaint about a stolen bed.

The perpetrator had not stolen the bed, but was in it. A few jokes were made by fellow cops until the order came from the watch commander to cut it out. The address was half a mile from Hutch’s apartment.

The chance it was anything was remote. Starsky leaned back in the seat and he wondered how much he’d have to pay Hooter for information. While he mulled over his approach with the snitch, Starsky turned the car towards the address given over the radio.

He arrived just ahead of another patrol car and parked in front of the building. The two patrolmen were laughing about the call up until they saw Starsky. There was no doubt they knew about his missing partner.

While they went inside, Starsky opened up his billfold and counted the money. Hooter was an expensive snitch and Starsky rarely used him unless there was no other alternative. There was none now, but he doubted he had enough cash. Starsky shoved the wallet in his back pocket and devised a new method to put the screws to him.

One of the cops appeared and his face was ghost white. Starsky straightened. “What is it?”

“Sarge.” The young officer took a deep breath. “You better get in there.”

Starsky went inside and after searching a few rooms he found the other uniformed officer kneeling down. All he saw where bare legs on the cot with a few small cuts. Dark bruising was beginning to appear.

Dread began to spread like burning lava through his chest and Starsky halted at the blond head. The eyes were covered with a blindfold, but there was no doubt. Frozen with shock, the sight almost sent him to his knees.

Hutch was lying on his stomach, naked and all four limbs tied to the cot. His body was covered in bruises. It was hard to see where one began and the other ended. Several small cuts on his body seeped blood. The battered and broken body before him was barely recognizable.

Starsky pushed the cop aside and got on his knees. “Hutch,” he whispered.

A blanket covered Hutch and Starsky looked up at both officers. “Get an ambulance and call Dobey.”

“Already have, Sarge,” one of them answered.

He leaned in close and touched Hutch’s arm. The body flinched and Starsky pulled back. “Leave.”

The patrolmen didn’t move and Starsky raised his eyes. “I said leave,” he ordered. “Don’t let anyone through that door except for Dobey and the paramedics.”

“Yes, sir,” one answered.

He couldn’t let anyone see Hutch like this. It was bad enough Dobey would. His captain would insist. The horrific scene told him what had happened, but Starsky wouldn’t allow his brain to digest it.

Starsky got up on one knee and fished the knife from his pocket. After opening it, he took hold of Hutch’s wrist.

“No!” was the whispered plea.

“Easy, Hutch. It’s me.” Starsky leaned in and took great care as he removed the blindfold. The defeated and broken eyes staring back at him hurt far more than any physical pain he could recall. Starsky swallowed the sob in his throat. He caressed Hutch’s hair. “I’m going to cut these ropes away. Okay?”

The eyes closed and Starsky saw the tense body relax. He had no idea if that was a good thing or not. Gentle as not to inflict anymore pain, Starsky cut away the ropes. His eyes moistened at the wounds on Hutch’s wrists. The skin was raw and bleeding.

It was no different with his feet and when he finished, Starsky moved to the head of the cot. He looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw Dobey enter the room.

Even with the blanket covering Hutch, Dobey’s hand went to a nearby wall to steady him. There was enough to tell the story of torture and pain.

Starsky kneeled in front of Hutch. He glanced at Dobey. “The ambulance here, yet?”

“ETA’s less than a minute. Was anyone around?”

“No.” Starsky’s eyes never left Hutch and it appeared his partner was sleeping. He couldn’t be sure. Maybe rest was what he needed. “Found him like this. It was some anonymous caller.”

“Is he conscious?”

“I think so. He had his eyes open.” Starsky bit his lip. “This is mine, Cap’n.”

“It’s ours.”

Starsky’s eyes met Dobey’s resolute ones and he nodded. They were family and he wouldn’t deny his Captain the pleasure of nailing whoever was responsible for Hutch’s condition.

The paramedics entered with a gurney and crouched down. Starsky was forced to step back as they began looking him over. No reaction came from Hutch even after his eyes opened. It scared Starsky to hear not even a sound from his partner as they checked his wounds and vitals. They questioned Hutch, but no words came.

It was when they started to move him to the gurney when a gasp of pain erupted from Hutch. Starsky started over and stopped when Hutch helped to transfer himself off the cot. His eyes went straight to the dark blood stain on the old mattress.

After Hutch was covered and strapped down, they pulled it towards the door and Starsky followed. He stopped in front of Dobey. “Cap’n.”

“It’ll be done by the book. The case will be so damn airtight not even a fly will get out of it.” Dobey held out his hand and Starsky gave him the keys to his car.

When they left the room, Dobey went outside. The crime lab stood waiting. He motioned them inside and watched Starsky crawl into the back of the ambulance.

~*~

Once at the hospital, Starsky stayed close to Hutch and after a quick exam by the physician, he ordered the patient to X-Ray. Starsky started to follow, and the doctor stepped in front of him. “You’re his partner?”

“Yeah.”

The doctor’s eyes were grim. “Give us some time and space. We’ll take good care of him. You’ve got my word on that, officer.”

“As soon as…”

“You’ll see him as soon as possible.”

Starsky nodded and went out to the hallway. He found the lobby and bought a cup of coffee. The exhaustion was catching up and by the time he sat down, Huggy arrived.

“Dobey called me.” Huggy sat down next to him. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” He sipped the hot drink. “He was snatched and tortured.”

“Will he make it?”

He couldn’t meet Huggy’s eyes. His brain still couldn’t absorb the scene still in his mind. “I think so. Just waiting to find out how much damage was done.”

An hour passed before Dobey showed and another went by before a different doctor emerged to talk to them. He was much younger than Starsky expected. He couldn’t be no older than thirty.

“Are you gentlemen here for Detective Hutchinson?”

“Yeah.” Starsky stood. “This is Captain Dobey and Huggy.”

“Family?”

“As close as any could get, Doc,” Huggy told him.

It seemed to satisfy the young physician and he directed them to a private lounge. When all were seated, he put his hands together. “I’m Dr. Collins. The ER physician turned Sergeant Hutchinson’s case over to me.”

“How is he?” Starsky asked.

“There are no broken ribs and other than a bruised kidney and a possible concussion, he’s as well as can be expected. He needed several stitches. There were a variety of cuts made on his body. Most of them needed it. He did suffer significant tearing in the rectal area and needed stitches there as well.”

Huggy was floored. “What?”

Starsky grabbed Huggy’s arm to silence him. “What else?”

“They will dissolve on their own. We’ve started him on a regimen of antibiotics.” The doctor leaned forward and his solemn eyes went to each of the men. “We believe there was more than one attacker given the semen samples we’ve recovered.”

“Hutch was…” Huggy could barely comprehend it.

“He’ll recover, then,” Starsky stated.

“We’ve also tested him for sexually transmitted diseases and those tests will need to be repeated in six weeks.” He looked at Dobey. “If you don’t feel the police have an adequate counselor we have several I can recommend.”

“We’ve got the best, Doc,” Dobey assured him.

“The physical abuse will heal. The rest…” Dr. Collins sighed. “It will take time.”

“Get those reports to my office immediately, Doctor.” Dobey got to his feet. “Huggy, come on. Let Starsky and the doctor have the room.”

When they were gone, Starsky lowered his head and rubbed his eyes. “Why haven’t you said it?”

Dr. Collins’ eyes never left Starsky. “You need to first. Once you accept it, then you can help him heal.”

The tears fell unhindered on Starsky’s cheeks. He didn’t want to say it, but the young doctor was right. He had to accept it and deal with what happened to Hutch before he could help him. “Hutch was raped.”

Pain tore through him and Starsky covered his eyes. The cry came out and he let it. As the sobs escaped Starsky, Hutch’s shattered eyes came back to him. It took a few more minutes before he got his bearings. “How did you know?”

“I’ve heard the stories about you two…you’re close. You’re almost as much a victim as he is, Sergeant. Don’t forget that.”

Starsky wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. “When can I see him?”

Dr. Collins stood. “Now.”

~*~

They stood outside Hutch’s room and Starsky was already having doubts. This was his partner, his best friend and the one person who had been his inspiration, his caretaker, his life-giver and everything else a human being could be to another. Could he help Hutch as much as he helped him through his own trials?

“I’ve given him a light sedative to help him sleep. When he wakes, let the nurse know. He’ll be in a lot of pain and will need something for it.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Call me if you need anything, Sergeant.”

Starsky nodded and when the doctor left, he took a deep breath. He pushed on the door and took his time in opening it. Starsky looked through the crack and saw Hutch lying on the bed with his eyes closed. Careful not to wake him, Starsky was quiet in closing the door and walking across the room.

Standing over him, Hutch had an almost peaceful look on his face. Both sides of his face were bruised and swollen. Dry blood was on the corner of Hutch’s mouth and Starsky wondered if that was a sign of internal bleeding. No, he thought. They would have checked for that.

The cut on Hutch’s neck had five stitches and Starsky wondered which others needed the same treatment. He knew where some were already and he closed his eyes at the thought. When he opened them, Starsky’s eyes went to the thick bandages on Hutch’s wrists. He remembered how they looked and he was curious if they had wrapped the ankles as well.

He went to the chair next to the bed and sat down. A part of him wanted to hunt down the animals responsible, but Hutch needed him more. His need to unleash the violence just under the surface would have to play second fiddle to Hutch’s recovery.

Starsky laid his head back and allowed his eyes to close.

~*~

Every muscle in his body screamed in retaliation at moving. Hutch thought he was still tied to the cot, but when he realized his hands were at his sides, he opened his eyes. The bright ceiling glared back at him. A hospital room, Hutch realized.

He turned his head and saw Starsky sleeping in the chair. Hutch looked away and back to where he was. When he moved to sit up, he groaned at the response of his entire body.

Starsky’s eyes flew open at the sound and seeing Hutch trying to sit up, he moved to him. “Easy, babe.”

Hutch closed his eyes. “Hurts all over.”

“I’ll get the nurse. The doc said you’d need something for pain.” Starsky stuck his head out the door and motioned for the nurse. When he finished relaying Hutch’s need, he walked back over.

“I’ll raise your head.” Starsky found the controls for the bed and raised the head until Hutch held his hand up. “You want something to drink?”

After seeing a slow nod, Starsky poured some in a cup and grabbed a straw. He held it in front of his partner who took several large gulps before waving it away. The nurse walked in with a hypodermic and gave Hutch the shot in upper arm. Starsky breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure if he could take seeing the signs of the horrific abuse again.

When she was gone, he saw Hutch trying to get comfortable in the bed. Starsky went to the closet and retrieved a second pillow and helped Hutch position himself better. It was on the tip of his tongue to start asking questions, but Starsky changed his mind. There would be plenty of that later.

~*~

It was late afternoon by the time Starsky headed to the cafeteria. He found a few items still left over from the earlier lunch service and forced it down. Hutch still wasn’t saying much and he didn’t expect anything so early. He figured his partner would break down and start talking once they got home.

When Starsky arrived at Hutch’s room, he eyed two plainclothes walking in while Dobey stood outside the door. “Cap’n, are they here for Hutch’s statement?”

“Yes.” Dobey stopped Starsky from going in. “He asked that you not be there, Starsky.”

“What?” Starsky was floored. “Did he say why?”

“It’s not unheard of.”

“I know, but…” He nodded. “Hutch probably wants to tell me in his own way. I’ll wait.”

Over an hour later, the detectives finally left and Starsky went in the room. Hutch was sitting up in bed accepting a pill from the nurse. When she left, Starsky sat down in the chair. “How’d it go?”

“Fine.” Hutch straightened the pillows and rested his head.

Starsky watched him get comfortable. “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m really tired. The pain medicine’s already starting to kick in.”

And with that, ended the conversation. Hutch closed his eyes and Starsky sat watching him. A hospital was a lousy place to talk about the worst thing that could happen to anyone. Starsky could accept it and he accepted the Hutch foibles this would present him. When his partner was ready, he’d talk it out. Hutch was the king of communication and working things out.

~*~

The following afternoon Hutch was released from the hospital. Starsky got everything together from the nurse’s station while his partner dressed. Dr. Collins was concerned since Hutch hadn’t set foot outside the hospital room, but conceded it was too early in this stage of Hutch’s recovery to expect much.

This first step would propel Hutch forward whether he liked it or not. Starsky planned on taking Hutch to his place and was surprised his partner insisted on his own apartment. Without argument, Starsky drove to Venice Place.

He followed Hutch up the stairs and halted. Hutch froze in front of the door. He watched him take a deep breath, take the key off the lintel and unlock it. Starsky was given another surprise when Hutch slipped the key into his pocket.

Inside, Starsky carried Hutch’s bag to his bedroom. He headed to the kitchen with the medication and sorted through the bottles at the counter. There was one sedative, two antibiotics, a stool softener, one for pain and another for anxiety. He didn’t expect his partner to take that one. Hutch was never the type, but given his ordeal, he might.

Starsky looked over at his shoulder at Hutch who was on the sofa removing his socks and shoes. “It’s almost time for one of the antibiotics.”

“I know.” Hutch pulled off a sock and examined the rope burn around his ankle.

“You need to eat something with it. What do you want?”

“Glass of milk is fine.” Hutch stood and went towards the bathroom. “I’m getting a shower.”

Starsky set the bottle down and met Hutch at the bathroom door. “The doctor said you should wait.”

“I haven’t had one in two days. I’m not waiting.”

The door closed in his face and Starsky took a deep breath then let it out. Hutch still needed to get his bearings. This wasn’t a conk on the head or a busted up knee like before, Starsky realized.

He went back to the kitchen and fixed a couple of sandwiches with hope Hutch would eat one. If he didn’t, Starsky had an appetite big enough for the both of them.

The bathroom door opened and Hutch appeared with his robe wrapped up to his neck. Starsky stood on his toes and followed Hutch with his eyes. His partner went into the bedroom and moved far enough away he couldn’t see him from the kitchen.

A few minutes later Hutch appeared wearing pajamas under the orange robe. “I made sandwiches in case you were hungry.”

“Thanks.” Hutch sat down and took the pill waiting for him. He downed it with the milk.

Starsky took a large bite of his and watched Hutch checking what was under the bread. They ate without saying a word and Starsky struggled with some words to break the silence. Hutch pushed his plate away after only eating half and stood. “I’m bushed.”

“Go get some rest. I’ll clean up.”

If Hutch heard him, he didn’t acknowledge it. Starsky kept his eyes on him until he disappeared in the bedroom. After doing the dishes, Starsky settled on the couch and started on a book, but was soon asleep. As it overtook him, he wondered why he was feeling as tired as his partner was.

~*~

What woke him up, Starsky had no clue. Just that he was awake. The sun was setting and the apartment was darkening with an orange glow. It was pretty.

A noise from the bedroom got him sitting up and remembering Hutch, he got to his feet and made his way there. Starsky stopped at seeing Hutch in a fitful sleep covered in sweat. The grip the nightmare had on his partner was painful to watch. Not a sound came from Hutch. Just the anguish on his face was enough to convince Starsky it was time to step in.

He went to the bed and sat on the edge. Starsky put a hand on Hutch’s shoulder. “Hutch.” He kept his voice low as not to startle his already fragile partner. After a small shake, Starsky said his name again. “Hutch.”

The eyes flew open and upon seeing Starsky sitting next to him and feeling the low dip of the bed, Hutch scrambled away to the other side and got to his feet.

Starsky stood and held his hands out. “It’s okay, buddy. You had a nightmare. It’s over.”

Hutch’s hands shook and the perspiration was running down his face. It took him a few moments to remember where he was at. He pushed the hair away from his face. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Starsky moved around the bed. Hutch’s hands still shook. “Want to tell me about it?”

Hutch’s eyes darted around the room and he began to wonder if anyone else was here. After determining it was just he and Starsky, Hutch shook his head. He grabbed the robe off the end of the bed and put it on.

“I’m going to make some coffee.” Hutch walked past Starsky to the kitchen.

Starsky followed and said, “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll fix it.”

“I can do it.” Hutch found the coffee and the pot. He could feel Starsky’s eyes at his back as he spooned the granules into the filter. “Why don’t you head home? I’ll be up for a while.”

“What?” Starsky was sure he had misunderstood. “I thought I’d fix you something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry and besides, I’ve got a few things around here that need taken care of.” Hutch continued with his task. “If I get hungry, I’m more than capable of taking care of my own meal.”

“I know, but…I thought you’d want to talk about what happened.” Starsky’s focus on Hutch never wavered. He watched every movement and even the lowering of Hutch’s eyes weren’t lost on him.

“Maybe later.”

To say he expected more was an understatement. Starsky couldn’t understand. His normally expressive partner was as closed off as anyone could get. Considering the devastating trauma, Starsky then figured it would take more time. “I can come back tonight.”

“How about tomorrow?” Hutch refused to get anymore specific. He could find other ways to dissuade his insistent partner.

“You sure, Hutch? I really didn’t want to leave you alone.”

Hutch stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Agreement was on the tip of Starsky’s tongue, but he held back. He wasn’t sure if Hutch needed one or not. “It’s not that, Hutch…I just…”

Holding the pot in his hand, Hutch turned around. “Starsky, I want to be alone for a while. You don’t need to worry.”

The gnawing in Starsky’s gut told him not to leave Hutch alone, but his partner was obstinate in his stance. Rather than risk an argument and further hurting Hutch, Starsky nodded. “Promise you’ll call if you need anything.”

“Sure.” Hutch turned back to the stove and set the pot down.

“I’ll call you before I go to sleep.”

The wave from Hutch hurt a little. Starsky wanted more, but he didn’t know what to expect. With great reluctance, he left.

A sigh of relief escaped Hutch and he planted his hands on the counter. Leaning forward, he took a breath. While the coffee brewed, Hutch walked to the front door and checked the lock. He did the same with all the windows and stopped at the threshold leading out to the greenhouse. Shadows had already formed and rather than the comfort zone he had sought out on many occasions, it was ominous and dangerous. Hutch closed the door and locked it. He grabbed a chair and put it in front of the door. Hutch made a mental note to call and have the door replaced with a sturdier one.

He went to the kitchen and got a cup down. After filling it halfway, Hutch found his bottle of brandy and filled the remainder. He carried the coffee/brandy mixture into the living room and sat on the couch. Seeing the open book on the table, Hutch leaned over and picked it up.

It was Dickens. He’d read it several times already and as he opened it, Hutch knew he wouldn’t be sleeping this night. He brought the cup to his lips and the smell of alcohol assailed his nostrils. The cup dropped from his hand onto the floor and Hutch ran to the bathroom.

Hunched over the toilet, he vomited up everything he had taken in. His already aching body was wracked with spasms and the pain brought tears to his eyes. Once he finished, Hutch collapsed on the floor of the bathroom and took a few moments to get his bearings.

Laughter screamed in his ears and Hutch wiped the wetness off his face. He took a deep breath and got to his feet. This time he wouldn’t use as much brandy. The smell of it was awful.

~*~

Starsky was almost home when he changed his mind. He turned the car around and headed for the station. He would go crazy just sitting there thinking and wondering about Hutch. He needed more.

He walked through the doors of the squadroom and headed for his desk. Starsky searched through the files and found nothing. He moved to the other desks and moved papers around.

“Starsky.”

He looked up at Babcock who was at his desk. “What?”

“Dobey’s got it.”

“Thanks.” Starsky went to Dobey’s door and opened it. Sitting in a chair across from him was a woman with her back to him.

“Come on in, Starsky,” Dobey said.

After closing the door behind him, Starsky moved forward. “I was looking for a report.”

“I’ve got it.” Dobey stood up. “Starsky, this is Grace Kinsey. She’s the department psychiatrist.”

When he was close to Dobey’s desk, Starsky looked at her. She was attractive with brown hair. She stood and he was startled to find that the top of the woman’s head barely reached his shoulder. While her clothes were casual, she had a sense of style. It was a simple beige business suit, but decorated with a scarf around her neck. Her eyes were friendly enough.

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