Roots To Grow Part Three
Roots To Grow
Part Three
Caring
“Be back in a minute!” Starsky laughed, opened the door and stepped into the dark night. The storm intensified and the door shut back in the jamb with a crashing sound.
Tiredly Hutch closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. He was still sitting there on the ground, totally drained and too weak to even raise a finger.
But his brain worked overtime. Too much had happened in the last four hours and he had to admit that he was more than a little glad that this curly-haired nut case had suddenly appeared in front of his door.
He couldn’t even begin to explain it, but for some reason ever since Starsky had arrived, he’d enjoyed every minute. He had even begun to like his stupid jokes and was getting used to his mother henning. It just felt good not to be alone anymore.
He looked at Mara and Jack; it seemed as if Mara finally had fallen asleep; her husband was holding her hand and mumbling soothing words into her ear.
Hutch smiled; maybe he did something right…
With a loud noise, the door slammed open once more and Starsky stepped in, but this time not alone. Three men were following him, and one of them had wrapping an arm around his neck and aiming a gun at Starsky's head.
“Sorry Hutch.” He pressed out, never letting Hutch out of sight. “Guess I have some company…”
“Shut the fuck up, Curly.” The man barked out and tightened the grip around Starsky’s neck. “Just one word and you’ll eat this bullet! Got that?”
“Got it…” Starsky croaked out and gasped for air.
And before Hutch could react, one of the other men was at his side and holding him at gunpoint, telling him in no uncertain terms not to move even a muscle.
“So, gentlemen… what do we have here?” The man holding Starsky glanced over to the bed noticing Jack and Mara. “The Lady and her Knight! Jack, Jack, Jack…!” Disappointed the man shook his head. “You really found her! Not the best idea you ever had! If you hadn’t found her, she would be safe now. So, any explanations from you about why you ran away? You would have saved yourself a whole heap of trouble if you hadn’t , my friend!”
“I’m not your friend, Steward Mayers. And I would never abandon Mara! What do you want?” Jack asked with an angry voice.
The man who was called Mayers giggled.
“You ask me what I want?! You know what I want. Where are the rest of the diamonds?”
“I told you before; I don’t have more diamonds, Mayers. I gave you all I got!”
“Liar!”
“I’m not a liar, I told you the truth, Jerry gave me everything he had; ask him if you don’t believe me!”
“Well, I asked him, but unfortunately he also didn’t tell me the truth and I had to punish him…”
“You did what? You mean you killed him?” Jack gasped out in horror.
“Well, he’s dead now…it was an accident…” Mayers shrugged his shoulders. “So I think you don’t want to have an accident too…or maybe Mara!” His smile was as cold as ice. “So, you want to tell me anything, Jack?”
“I can’t tell you something-I don’t know…”
“Okay…sorry for interrupting you…” Mayer turned round at the sound of Hutch’s voice.
“Who allowed you to talk? Shut up or we’ll have another accident here!” Mayers threatened Hutch with his gun.
“What if he told you the truth?” Hutch asked in a hurry, clearly aware of the danger they all were in. “As far as I understand, you hired Jack to bring you some diamonds, but some were missing, right?”
Mayers shook his head yes.
“What if Jack told you the truth and Jerry didn’t give him all the diamonds? What if he kept the remaining ones himself?”
Only with effort could Starsky suppress a grin as he understood what Hutch was planning. He tried to make eye contact with him.
‘Damn it Hutch, what you’re planning is dangerous, but go on... You nearly got him.'
Mayers tossed Starsky to the ground and gave the red-haired man beside him a sign to watch him. Mayers rushed over to Hutch and crouched down in front of him, playing with his gun all the time.
“What makes you so sure that Jerry betrayed me, huh?”
He glanced at Hutch, his face as hard if it was carved in stone.
“The greed for more?”
Mayers smiled thinly, bent down closer to Hutch and whispered in his ear.
"You son of a bitch… He was my brother...”
He jammed his fist into Hutch’s stomach and roared: "Ritchie! Bring me the woman!"
“NOOO!” Starsky cried out. He whirled around, slammed both fists into his guard’s face and rushed towards Jack and Mara. But before he could reach them, the red-haired man recovered from the attack and threw himself on Starsky and started to punch his chest and head.
“Starsky! Don’t!” Hutch cried out under his breath when he saw Starsky go down. He struggled to fight against his captor, but Mayers gave him no chance. Helplessly he had to watch the red-haired man and Ritchie beat the shit out of Starsky. He heard him crying out in pain and saw blood trickling out of his mouth and nose, with more blood running down his left cheek. He fought with all his power, but the blows hit him hard and he doubled over in pain unable to catch his breath. But the worst thing was that all the time Starsky held his gaze, his dark blue eyes fixed on him like a silent prayer not to move.
And that was too much for him.
With all the strength he could muster, he bucked with his whole weight against Mayers, flung him against the wall and rushed towards the other men. He whipped Ritchie around by the collar and kneed him in the gut. Then, like a wild animal he threw himself at the redhead and hammered his fist into his ribs. That was when he heard the sound of a shot.
He looked into Starsky's shocked face, saw the left side of his shirt was covered in blood. Without even feeling it, he took a couple of steps forward to catch Starsky’s fall, but a murderous blow on the back of his head floored him and before he even had a chance to get back on his feet again, someone from behind grasped his right arm and twisted it up against his back.
The pain was excruciating.
Hutch screamed out in pain, felt bones crushing and he curled up into a ball.
As if he was looking through a fog that was becoming thicker and thicker, he saw Starsky lying on the ground in his own blood, his eyes still open. Starsky opened his mouth and with his last attempt before he blacked out Starsky mouthed only one word.
“Why?”
Something exploded in Hutch’s head; he went down like a rag doll and fell into a deep blackness. He didn’t hear the shocked shouts, didn’t notice how Starsky and he were hauled out of the cabin like pieces of meat and thrown into the small tool hut nearby the cabin.
He felt nothing but coldness. No scratch that, he felt a constant knocking pain in his head as if a drummer was performing a new, experimental rhythm. He found it hard to open his eyes and was terrified when he noticed that, once he did, he couldn’t see a thing.
‘Okay, calm down, Hutchinson…might be a blackout…no wait, there’s no electricity in the cottage, and you forgot to stock up the fire. That’s the reason why it’s dark.’
Slowly he turned around and noticed that he was not lying in his bed but on the cold ground.
‘Damn…what the hell…’
He moved to sit up, but the constant knocking in his head morphed into an immense pain, and he nearly blacked out again. With a moan he fell back on the ground trying to remember how he ended up on the ground with the worst headache he ever had.
Like flashbacks, his foggy brain began to remember.
Starsky with a fir tree, the strange man at the door, finding the woman in the snow.
Starsky…
The memory of the curly-haired man immediately made him disregard all the pain in his head.
“Starsk…you’re here? Hey can you hear me?” He croaked out. “Come on…tell me you’re okay…”
He remembered the fight with the three goons. Then a shot and Starsky falling down to the ground, lying in a puddle of blood.
“STARSKY!” He yelled out in panic and started to fumble around on the ground to find him.
His eyes soon got used to the darkness and he saw a body lying on the ground a few feet away from him. Forgetting all his pain he started to crawl over to the unmoving form. That was when he noticed that he was unable to move his right arm that now dangled uselessly at his side.
‘Don’t have time for this now…Have to help Starsky.’
“Starsk…come on, don’t do this to me…I’ll kick your sorry ass all the way back to Los Angeles if you do something stupid now.”
Somehow Hutch managed to crawl over to him and carefully turned him on his back. He winced when he saw Starsky’s whole face was coated in blood. He noticed an ugly laceration on the right side of his temple and ran his fingertips over Starsky’s face, finding an obvious broken left cheek bone.
He went on with his examination, concerned when he found Starsky’s upper body covered with bruises. Running his fingers over his friend’s ribcage, he noticed that at least three ribs were badly bruised if not broken. He found the still bleeding gunshot wound on Starsky’s left side but was relieved that it was only a flesh wound and that the bullet didn’t cause any internal damage. It would hurt like hell and he had to stop the bleeding, but after all that had happened Starsky was alive and that was what mattered most.
Hutch searched for a cloth to stop the bleeding from Starsky’s side. In the dark he couldn’t see much and with his own injuries slowing him down, was a long time before he managed to treat all the wounds. His right arm was still numb and right now Hutch was glad about that fact.
Starsky was still out like a light, not moving a muscle, and even though he was sure that Starsky couldn’t hear him, Hutch talked to him in a low voice constantly while he bandaged his head wound with a bandanna he had found in his hip pocket. He was concerned about Starsky’s cold and ashen face and the coldness in the hut, and as Starsky was wearing nothing more than his sweat shirt, he had to warm him up somehow. And so he dragged the floppy body single handedly to the wall. He slumped down, leant his back against the wall, spread out his legs in a V and gathered Starsky’s body against his chest, wrapping his good arm around the other man’s waist.
“Sorry…Might be not the best idea to move you around like this, but I have no other choice…” Hutch slurred, out of breath. He laid his chin atop Starsky’s head, feeling the slow heartbeat against his own chest. “This is a fine mess we got ourselves into, huh? Not the best idea to run after me! Should have stayed in L.A. you dummy!”
He hugged Starsky even closer. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but after a while he noticed that the man in his arms started to stir; Starsky’s head lolled from side to side and Hutch heard him mumbling incomprehensible words.
Hutch bent over him and looked into the bruised face.
“Hey Curlyhead…time to wake up…come on now, I’d actually really like to hear your awful jokes again…” He encouraged him, gently slapping his uninjured cheek. “I’m kind of lonely here, so wake up and tell me that you’re okay, please!”
Starsky half opened his eyes, his vision still blurry and unfocused. All of a sudden he struggled out of Hutch’s grip and tried to move away from his captor. But before he could climb to his feet, a wave of pain washed over him and he fell down back into Hutch’s lap, crying out in pain.
“Whoa…Starsk…don’t do this…it’s me, Hutch! Don’t move around, you’ve got some nice bumps that don’t need any more trouble. Just lay still and breathe!” He soothed the upset man and held him tight.
Starsky turned his head and stared bewilderedly at Hutch.
“Hu-Hutch?” He asked in a husky voice. “W-What…urgh…hell, it hurts!”
“Sure it hurts…”
“Why…why does it hurt?”
“First tell me: what do you remember?”
“Not much…do I have to?”
“Have to know if there’s at least a little part of working brain in that thick skull of yours…You took some awful punches to your head.”
“Uh-huh…”
Hutch listened to Starsky’s ragged breaths. “Starsk? You still with me?” He asked concerned.
“Huh?” Starsky’s voice sounded weak and drained.
“No, no, no don’t fall asleep now, you hear me…”
“Asked me if I remember anything…well, I’m still thinking…”
“Can you do it a little bit louder then?”
“If I have to…” Starsky said tiredly and moved around to sit up.
“I should have checked out your ears too…I said don’t move! You’re really beaten up!” Hutch was at the end of his tether.
“I’ve been worse…”
“If you keep moving around you will, right…”
Starsky glared at him and smiled weakly.
“This time you won the game ‘stubbornness of the day’ game…So, how do we look?”
“We’re a mess, that’s how we look.”
“Terrific…So what happened?”
Hutch sighed. “You tried to play superman and had a fight with three goons attacking our Christmas Guests!”
“Christmas Guests? Oh…Jack and Mara…so, did I win?”
“You won some broken ribs, a crushed cheek bone and probably a nice concussion. That enough?”
“Sounds like the jackpot to me…these goons still with Jack and Mara?”
“Think so…how do you feel?”
“Like I ran into three goons, shit…” Starsky suppressed a yelp when a burning pain exploded in his left side. A coughing fit caught him by surprise, and he pressed his arms against his aching chest. He grabbed Hutch by his sleeve and groaned out loud. “God…that really hurts…”
“It’s okay Starsk…” Hutch clutched him closer to his chest as if he could ease his pain. “I know it hurts, but the bullet only scratched the skin; it’s only a flesh wound.”
“A bullet? You forget to tell me that small detail…” Starsky spit out through gritted teeth waiting for the pain to pass away. “If it’s only a scratch, then why does it hurt so much?”
“Well, I told you not to move…
“If you say so…” He felt silent, just lay there in Hutch’s lap and tried to regain some of his strength. He could feel Hutch’s touch and focused on it to help his arching body relaxed. For a minute or two he closed his eyes.
‘Don’t know why, but this guy is good at what he’s doing.’
After a while he turned around to Hutch.
“So what do you think, what’s our plan?”
Hutch rolled his eyes. “Surviving this night would be a good plan…”
Starsky looked up at him, not sure if he was joking or not.
“You know the goons are still with Jack and Mara?”
“Yeah…” Hutch replied quietly. “But we both are in no shape to perform another stunt right now. Need some time to rest…”
“But we have to help them!” Starsky said emphatically. “I thought you trusted Jack’s part of the story! We don’t have time to waste!”
“We will…Starsk…I just…” For some reason Hutch’s voice trailed off and a weariness greater than he’d ever known crept over him like a wave. He felt the adrenaline rush was over; he began to tremble and suddenly broke out in sweat. He groaned as he felt the coldness climbing up in his bones. And then the numbness in his injured arm was gone and a piercing pain shot through his shoulder and arm.
Starsky noticed the trembling in Hutch’s voice and heard him gasp out in pain.
“Hutch? You okay?”
“I…I…” Hutch slowly slipped to the side and let out a cry. “Starsk…”
“Hutch!”
Forgetting the pain he was in, Starsky crawled to Hutch’s side as fast as he could, and held the trembling body in his lap. And all of a sudden he remembered Hutch fighting with one of the criminals after he himself was knocked to the ground. And he remembered Hutch’s bloodcurdling scream when Mayers twisted his arm behind his back.
His injured arm.
He noticed Hutch had cradled his arm against his chest and clutched it with his left hand, trying to ride out every new pain wave.
“Easy Hutch, easy…let me see.” He said softly. “I’ll try not to hurt you, just stay with me, okay?”
Feebly Hutch nodded his head and then twitched when Starsky slowly and carefully loosened the grip around his limb with shaking fingers.
“Oh shit Hutch…” It slipped out of his mouth when he finally held the damaged arm in his hand. Gently he ran his fingers over Hutch’s forearm and felt bumps where there shouldn’t be any, the bones moving under his touch. Hutch moaned deeply, tears streaming down his face when he couldn’t hold back his pain any longer.
“Sorry…don’t want to be so wimpy…”
“It’s okay, Hutch…relax…I know it hurts…”
Starsky’s soothing words engulfed him like a warming blanket, and for the first time in years he allowed himself to be weak. His exhausted body slumped against Starsky’s, and he had to close his eyes when a sudden nausea crawled up his throat. He found it hard to think, and he called out for Starsky as if he was his last hope; the lighthouse in the dark
“Starsk…”
“I’m here Hutch…”
He heard the soft voice again and looked into two dark blue eyes full of grief.
“This will hurt…Hutch….but I have to do it. Cry if you need…
“Do…do what?”
“Have to splint that arm.”
Hutch eyed his arm. “Is it as bad as it feels?”
“Yeah…” Starsky had to swallow when he looked at the deformed arm. “It’s bad. It will hurt like hell, but I’ve got to splint it somehow. Remember, we talked about it some time ago…”
“T-thought you didn’t remember a thing…” Hutch whispered wearily.
“Only the important things…and that was one of them…so tell me, you got some branches or shelves in this shelter?”
Hutch’s arm waved to the side, and Starsky stumbled to his feet. After a few minutes he found some shelves and an old shirt. He went back to Hutch, knelt beside him and started to shred the shirt into makeshift bandages.
“Looks like you get to play the doctor now…” Hutch said ironically and eyed Starsky with little amusement when he knotted the last piece of cloth into a sling.
“Good point…” Starsky retorted. “How is it that you played the doctor so perfectly not so long ago?”
Hutch let out an exasperated laugh. “You never give up, huh?”
End Part Three
Part four is here
http://muckel1470.livejournal.com/1682.html
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Part Three
Caring
“Be back in a minute!” Starsky laughed, opened the door and stepped into the dark night. The storm intensified and the door shut back in the jamb with a crashing sound.
Tiredly Hutch closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. He was still sitting there on the ground, totally drained and too weak to even raise a finger.
But his brain worked overtime. Too much had happened in the last four hours and he had to admit that he was more than a little glad that this curly-haired nut case had suddenly appeared in front of his door.
He couldn’t even begin to explain it, but for some reason ever since Starsky had arrived, he’d enjoyed every minute. He had even begun to like his stupid jokes and was getting used to his mother henning. It just felt good not to be alone anymore.
He looked at Mara and Jack; it seemed as if Mara finally had fallen asleep; her husband was holding her hand and mumbling soothing words into her ear.
Hutch smiled; maybe he did something right…
With a loud noise, the door slammed open once more and Starsky stepped in, but this time not alone. Three men were following him, and one of them had wrapping an arm around his neck and aiming a gun at Starsky's head.
“Sorry Hutch.” He pressed out, never letting Hutch out of sight. “Guess I have some company…”
“Shut the fuck up, Curly.” The man barked out and tightened the grip around Starsky’s neck. “Just one word and you’ll eat this bullet! Got that?”
“Got it…” Starsky croaked out and gasped for air.
And before Hutch could react, one of the other men was at his side and holding him at gunpoint, telling him in no uncertain terms not to move even a muscle.
“So, gentlemen… what do we have here?” The man holding Starsky glanced over to the bed noticing Jack and Mara. “The Lady and her Knight! Jack, Jack, Jack…!” Disappointed the man shook his head. “You really found her! Not the best idea you ever had! If you hadn’t found her, she would be safe now. So, any explanations from you about why you ran away? You would have saved yourself a whole heap of trouble if you hadn’t , my friend!”
“I’m not your friend, Steward Mayers. And I would never abandon Mara! What do you want?” Jack asked with an angry voice.
The man who was called Mayers giggled.
“You ask me what I want?! You know what I want. Where are the rest of the diamonds?”
“I told you before; I don’t have more diamonds, Mayers. I gave you all I got!”
“Liar!”
“I’m not a liar, I told you the truth, Jerry gave me everything he had; ask him if you don’t believe me!”
“Well, I asked him, but unfortunately he also didn’t tell me the truth and I had to punish him…”
“You did what? You mean you killed him?” Jack gasped out in horror.
“Well, he’s dead now…it was an accident…” Mayers shrugged his shoulders. “So I think you don’t want to have an accident too…or maybe Mara!” His smile was as cold as ice. “So, you want to tell me anything, Jack?”
“I can’t tell you something-I don’t know…”
“Okay…sorry for interrupting you…” Mayer turned round at the sound of Hutch’s voice.
“Who allowed you to talk? Shut up or we’ll have another accident here!” Mayers threatened Hutch with his gun.
“What if he told you the truth?” Hutch asked in a hurry, clearly aware of the danger they all were in. “As far as I understand, you hired Jack to bring you some diamonds, but some were missing, right?”
Mayers shook his head yes.
“What if Jack told you the truth and Jerry didn’t give him all the diamonds? What if he kept the remaining ones himself?”
Only with effort could Starsky suppress a grin as he understood what Hutch was planning. He tried to make eye contact with him.
‘Damn it Hutch, what you’re planning is dangerous, but go on... You nearly got him.'
Mayers tossed Starsky to the ground and gave the red-haired man beside him a sign to watch him. Mayers rushed over to Hutch and crouched down in front of him, playing with his gun all the time.
“What makes you so sure that Jerry betrayed me, huh?”
He glanced at Hutch, his face as hard if it was carved in stone.
“The greed for more?”
Mayers smiled thinly, bent down closer to Hutch and whispered in his ear.
"You son of a bitch… He was my brother...”
He jammed his fist into Hutch’s stomach and roared: "Ritchie! Bring me the woman!"
“NOOO!” Starsky cried out. He whirled around, slammed both fists into his guard’s face and rushed towards Jack and Mara. But before he could reach them, the red-haired man recovered from the attack and threw himself on Starsky and started to punch his chest and head.
“Starsky! Don’t!” Hutch cried out under his breath when he saw Starsky go down. He struggled to fight against his captor, but Mayers gave him no chance. Helplessly he had to watch the red-haired man and Ritchie beat the shit out of Starsky. He heard him crying out in pain and saw blood trickling out of his mouth and nose, with more blood running down his left cheek. He fought with all his power, but the blows hit him hard and he doubled over in pain unable to catch his breath. But the worst thing was that all the time Starsky held his gaze, his dark blue eyes fixed on him like a silent prayer not to move.
And that was too much for him.
With all the strength he could muster, he bucked with his whole weight against Mayers, flung him against the wall and rushed towards the other men. He whipped Ritchie around by the collar and kneed him in the gut. Then, like a wild animal he threw himself at the redhead and hammered his fist into his ribs. That was when he heard the sound of a shot.
He looked into Starsky's shocked face, saw the left side of his shirt was covered in blood. Without even feeling it, he took a couple of steps forward to catch Starsky’s fall, but a murderous blow on the back of his head floored him and before he even had a chance to get back on his feet again, someone from behind grasped his right arm and twisted it up against his back.
The pain was excruciating.
Hutch screamed out in pain, felt bones crushing and he curled up into a ball.
As if he was looking through a fog that was becoming thicker and thicker, he saw Starsky lying on the ground in his own blood, his eyes still open. Starsky opened his mouth and with his last attempt before he blacked out Starsky mouthed only one word.
“Why?”
Something exploded in Hutch’s head; he went down like a rag doll and fell into a deep blackness. He didn’t hear the shocked shouts, didn’t notice how Starsky and he were hauled out of the cabin like pieces of meat and thrown into the small tool hut nearby the cabin.
He felt nothing but coldness. No scratch that, he felt a constant knocking pain in his head as if a drummer was performing a new, experimental rhythm. He found it hard to open his eyes and was terrified when he noticed that, once he did, he couldn’t see a thing.
‘Okay, calm down, Hutchinson…might be a blackout…no wait, there’s no electricity in the cottage, and you forgot to stock up the fire. That’s the reason why it’s dark.’
Slowly he turned around and noticed that he was not lying in his bed but on the cold ground.
‘Damn…what the hell…’
He moved to sit up, but the constant knocking in his head morphed into an immense pain, and he nearly blacked out again. With a moan he fell back on the ground trying to remember how he ended up on the ground with the worst headache he ever had.
Like flashbacks, his foggy brain began to remember.
Starsky with a fir tree, the strange man at the door, finding the woman in the snow.
Starsky…
The memory of the curly-haired man immediately made him disregard all the pain in his head.
“Starsk…you’re here? Hey can you hear me?” He croaked out. “Come on…tell me you’re okay…”
He remembered the fight with the three goons. Then a shot and Starsky falling down to the ground, lying in a puddle of blood.
“STARSKY!” He yelled out in panic and started to fumble around on the ground to find him.
His eyes soon got used to the darkness and he saw a body lying on the ground a few feet away from him. Forgetting all his pain he started to crawl over to the unmoving form. That was when he noticed that he was unable to move his right arm that now dangled uselessly at his side.
‘Don’t have time for this now…Have to help Starsky.’
“Starsk…come on, don’t do this to me…I’ll kick your sorry ass all the way back to Los Angeles if you do something stupid now.”
Somehow Hutch managed to crawl over to him and carefully turned him on his back. He winced when he saw Starsky’s whole face was coated in blood. He noticed an ugly laceration on the right side of his temple and ran his fingertips over Starsky’s face, finding an obvious broken left cheek bone.
He went on with his examination, concerned when he found Starsky’s upper body covered with bruises. Running his fingers over his friend’s ribcage, he noticed that at least three ribs were badly bruised if not broken. He found the still bleeding gunshot wound on Starsky’s left side but was relieved that it was only a flesh wound and that the bullet didn’t cause any internal damage. It would hurt like hell and he had to stop the bleeding, but after all that had happened Starsky was alive and that was what mattered most.
Hutch searched for a cloth to stop the bleeding from Starsky’s side. In the dark he couldn’t see much and with his own injuries slowing him down, was a long time before he managed to treat all the wounds. His right arm was still numb and right now Hutch was glad about that fact.
Starsky was still out like a light, not moving a muscle, and even though he was sure that Starsky couldn’t hear him, Hutch talked to him in a low voice constantly while he bandaged his head wound with a bandanna he had found in his hip pocket. He was concerned about Starsky’s cold and ashen face and the coldness in the hut, and as Starsky was wearing nothing more than his sweat shirt, he had to warm him up somehow. And so he dragged the floppy body single handedly to the wall. He slumped down, leant his back against the wall, spread out his legs in a V and gathered Starsky’s body against his chest, wrapping his good arm around the other man’s waist.
“Sorry…Might be not the best idea to move you around like this, but I have no other choice…” Hutch slurred, out of breath. He laid his chin atop Starsky’s head, feeling the slow heartbeat against his own chest. “This is a fine mess we got ourselves into, huh? Not the best idea to run after me! Should have stayed in L.A. you dummy!”
He hugged Starsky even closer. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but after a while he noticed that the man in his arms started to stir; Starsky’s head lolled from side to side and Hutch heard him mumbling incomprehensible words.
Hutch bent over him and looked into the bruised face.
“Hey Curlyhead…time to wake up…come on now, I’d actually really like to hear your awful jokes again…” He encouraged him, gently slapping his uninjured cheek. “I’m kind of lonely here, so wake up and tell me that you’re okay, please!”
Starsky half opened his eyes, his vision still blurry and unfocused. All of a sudden he struggled out of Hutch’s grip and tried to move away from his captor. But before he could climb to his feet, a wave of pain washed over him and he fell down back into Hutch’s lap, crying out in pain.
“Whoa…Starsk…don’t do this…it’s me, Hutch! Don’t move around, you’ve got some nice bumps that don’t need any more trouble. Just lay still and breathe!” He soothed the upset man and held him tight.
Starsky turned his head and stared bewilderedly at Hutch.
“Hu-Hutch?” He asked in a husky voice. “W-What…urgh…hell, it hurts!”
“Sure it hurts…”
“Why…why does it hurt?”
“First tell me: what do you remember?”
“Not much…do I have to?”
“Have to know if there’s at least a little part of working brain in that thick skull of yours…You took some awful punches to your head.”
“Uh-huh…”
Hutch listened to Starsky’s ragged breaths. “Starsk? You still with me?” He asked concerned.
“Huh?” Starsky’s voice sounded weak and drained.
“No, no, no don’t fall asleep now, you hear me…”
“Asked me if I remember anything…well, I’m still thinking…”
“Can you do it a little bit louder then?”
“If I have to…” Starsky said tiredly and moved around to sit up.
“I should have checked out your ears too…I said don’t move! You’re really beaten up!” Hutch was at the end of his tether.
“I’ve been worse…”
“If you keep moving around you will, right…”
Starsky glared at him and smiled weakly.
“This time you won the game ‘stubbornness of the day’ game…So, how do we look?”
“We’re a mess, that’s how we look.”
“Terrific…So what happened?”
Hutch sighed. “You tried to play superman and had a fight with three goons attacking our Christmas Guests!”
“Christmas Guests? Oh…Jack and Mara…so, did I win?”
“You won some broken ribs, a crushed cheek bone and probably a nice concussion. That enough?”
“Sounds like the jackpot to me…these goons still with Jack and Mara?”
“Think so…how do you feel?”
“Like I ran into three goons, shit…” Starsky suppressed a yelp when a burning pain exploded in his left side. A coughing fit caught him by surprise, and he pressed his arms against his aching chest. He grabbed Hutch by his sleeve and groaned out loud. “God…that really hurts…”
“It’s okay Starsk…” Hutch clutched him closer to his chest as if he could ease his pain. “I know it hurts, but the bullet only scratched the skin; it’s only a flesh wound.”
“A bullet? You forget to tell me that small detail…” Starsky spit out through gritted teeth waiting for the pain to pass away. “If it’s only a scratch, then why does it hurt so much?”
“Well, I told you not to move…
“If you say so…” He felt silent, just lay there in Hutch’s lap and tried to regain some of his strength. He could feel Hutch’s touch and focused on it to help his arching body relaxed. For a minute or two he closed his eyes.
‘Don’t know why, but this guy is good at what he’s doing.’
After a while he turned around to Hutch.
“So what do you think, what’s our plan?”
Hutch rolled his eyes. “Surviving this night would be a good plan…”
Starsky looked up at him, not sure if he was joking or not.
“You know the goons are still with Jack and Mara?”
“Yeah…” Hutch replied quietly. “But we both are in no shape to perform another stunt right now. Need some time to rest…”
“But we have to help them!” Starsky said emphatically. “I thought you trusted Jack’s part of the story! We don’t have time to waste!”
“We will…Starsk…I just…” For some reason Hutch’s voice trailed off and a weariness greater than he’d ever known crept over him like a wave. He felt the adrenaline rush was over; he began to tremble and suddenly broke out in sweat. He groaned as he felt the coldness climbing up in his bones. And then the numbness in his injured arm was gone and a piercing pain shot through his shoulder and arm.
Starsky noticed the trembling in Hutch’s voice and heard him gasp out in pain.
“Hutch? You okay?”
“I…I…” Hutch slowly slipped to the side and let out a cry. “Starsk…”
“Hutch!”
Forgetting the pain he was in, Starsky crawled to Hutch’s side as fast as he could, and held the trembling body in his lap. And all of a sudden he remembered Hutch fighting with one of the criminals after he himself was knocked to the ground. And he remembered Hutch’s bloodcurdling scream when Mayers twisted his arm behind his back.
His injured arm.
He noticed Hutch had cradled his arm against his chest and clutched it with his left hand, trying to ride out every new pain wave.
“Easy Hutch, easy…let me see.” He said softly. “I’ll try not to hurt you, just stay with me, okay?”
Feebly Hutch nodded his head and then twitched when Starsky slowly and carefully loosened the grip around his limb with shaking fingers.
“Oh shit Hutch…” It slipped out of his mouth when he finally held the damaged arm in his hand. Gently he ran his fingers over Hutch’s forearm and felt bumps where there shouldn’t be any, the bones moving under his touch. Hutch moaned deeply, tears streaming down his face when he couldn’t hold back his pain any longer.
“Sorry…don’t want to be so wimpy…”
“It’s okay, Hutch…relax…I know it hurts…”
Starsky’s soothing words engulfed him like a warming blanket, and for the first time in years he allowed himself to be weak. His exhausted body slumped against Starsky’s, and he had to close his eyes when a sudden nausea crawled up his throat. He found it hard to think, and he called out for Starsky as if he was his last hope; the lighthouse in the dark
“Starsk…”
“I’m here Hutch…”
He heard the soft voice again and looked into two dark blue eyes full of grief.
“This will hurt…Hutch….but I have to do it. Cry if you need…
“Do…do what?”
“Have to splint that arm.”
Hutch eyed his arm. “Is it as bad as it feels?”
“Yeah…” Starsky had to swallow when he looked at the deformed arm. “It’s bad. It will hurt like hell, but I’ve got to splint it somehow. Remember, we talked about it some time ago…”
“T-thought you didn’t remember a thing…” Hutch whispered wearily.
“Only the important things…and that was one of them…so tell me, you got some branches or shelves in this shelter?”
Hutch’s arm waved to the side, and Starsky stumbled to his feet. After a few minutes he found some shelves and an old shirt. He went back to Hutch, knelt beside him and started to shred the shirt into makeshift bandages.
“Looks like you get to play the doctor now…” Hutch said ironically and eyed Starsky with little amusement when he knotted the last piece of cloth into a sling.
“Good point…” Starsky retorted. “How is it that you played the doctor so perfectly not so long ago?”
Hutch let out an exasperated laugh. “You never give up, huh?”
End Part Three
Part four is here
http://muckel1470.livejournal.com/1682.html
.