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“I lost everything, didn’t I?” Hutch didn’t look up from his beer to ask the solemn question to his partner. Starsky sat down across from Hutch, motioning for Huggy to come join them.
“Not everything. Just the guitar, the stereo the TV and the… house…”
Hutch groaned, head slamming down onto the table.
“The rest” Huggy interjected, “Is being moved right now.”
“Where?” Hutch grabbed Huggy’s arm, eyes wide with panic.
“Relax, my friend, Huggy has it under control.” He pried Hutch’s shaking fingers from his jacket. “It is being moved to a beautiful apartment in a safe location. It belonged to my aunt. She rents it out and leaves the handling to yours truly, now that she is living in the Bahamas.” Huggy looked proudly at Hutch, who had once again become interested in stating at his empty glass.
“Um, Huggy?” Starsky shifted, knowing what was going through his partners head. “Hutch can’t pay for all this. I can chip in, but it’ll only cover half, at most.”
Huggy widened his eyes, “Did you not hear a word I said? Am I just blabbing to empty ears over here? I own it. I decide when, or when not, you pay. The movers are all friends of mine, and they owe me a favor or two.” He got up, resting a hand on Hutch’s arm. “It’s not the first time a friend’s significant ex stole their life away. I know how to deal with it.” The bar tender flung his towel over his shoulder, sauntering to the bar.
“Hey Huggy?” Hutch shouted across the room. “Thanks.” He smiled thinly.
Huggy saluted with the towel, closing the kitchen door. Starsky looked at his partner. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“My place of course. I’ve got beer, popcorn, and a television with crap TV. Come on”
Hutch shook his head at his partner’s empty cheerfulness, and followed him to the red tomato.
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Hutch hadn’t realized before how much time he spent in Starsky’s home before. After taking a shower and grabbing something to sleep in, on Starsky’s orders, he found at least three of his shirts in the dresser drawers, and a pair of pants he could have sworn he’d worn before. Which, honestly, didn’t surprise him as much as it possibly should have. He was more surprised that he had yet to see his partner’s bedroom. Yes, he had been here more times than he could count, but he had never seen it, for some reason or another. Just never needed to. If he ever slept over, he was drunk on the couch with Starsk, crying on the couch with Starsk, or doing the paper work on the couch… with Starsk.
Although his partner’s apartment was crowded with odds and ends, stuffed full of collected junk and old posters, his bed room was relatively clean and bare. He had a bed, dresser, a few pictures and memorabilia on the wall, the normal. What was on his bed side table though really got Hutch. There was a picture of mama Starsky, as they called her, brother and father nowhere to be found. A picture of him and some close college friends, as Hutch recognized more than a few, a picture of some random men in army uniforms, and a picture of Hutch himself with Starsky. He picked up the frame carefully to study it closer. He knew the picture, he remembered the day they took it.
It was their first day as full detectives, and the boys took it as they walked into the office. Hutch was looking at Starsky, laughing, as Starsky grinned into the camera. They were walking hand in hand, as all partners do on their first day; it was a casual tradition of the office. Every pair of partners in the force had a picture like this. Dobey’s was pinned on the wall of the office. Neither he nor his partner was smiling, but their eyes were shining, and fingers interlocked in anticipation. Hutch smiled in spite of himself, placing the picture in its original position. He didn’t know this picture was bed side worthy. He heard Starsky cursing in the kitchen and smelled the familiar scent of burning. With a smile he carefully reset the picture and walked out to the kitchen.
He found Starsky sucking his finger, burned popcorn all over the kitchen. He chuckled, getting on the floor to help his partner.
“You look better.” Starsk finally said, once the popcorn was swept up, spilled, yelled at, thrown at each other, cleaned up once more, and resolutely thrown in the trash (or out the window).
“I feel better.” Hutch said, watching the TV play some really, really crappy movies.
Starsky glanced at Hutch, whose facial expression strongly contradicted his recent claim. He sighed, slinging his arm around Hutch’s shoulders. “It’ll be alright Buddy.”
“How do you know?” Hutch responded dryly.
“Because I know!” Starsky rubbed Hutch’s shoulder. “You’ve got friends; allies in the war. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but you’re not alone in this. Dobey knows what’s going on, all the guys do, and not a single one judges you for it in the slightest. If someone did, Dobey would put him on traffic control for the rest of his life.” Hutch had to grin at that. Starsky noticed the shift and took it as a sign to continue. “And you’ve got Huggy, and anyone who owes Hugg a favor owes you a favor be default, it’s the rule. You’ve got Sweet Alice, my mom, for crying out loud Dobeys mom would probably throw a few pennies in, she loves you. And-” Starsky glanced at Hutch. “You’ve got me. You’ve always got me.”
Hutch turned to look at his partner, once again growing solemn. “Me and thee?”
Starsky nodded. “Me and thee.”
Hutch sank further down in the couch, resting his head on Starsky’s shoulder. “This is gonna hurt in the morning.”
“What?”
“The couch. Sleeping on it, anyways.”
“What makes you think you’re sleeping on the couch, I’m sleeping on the couch, you get the bed.”
“You can’t do that Starsk.”
“My house, my rules. Go to bed, you’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“So do you.” Hutch smiled as Starsky stood, offering a hand in pulling Hutch to his feet.
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“You aren’t pitying me, are you?” Hutch stood in the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, as Starsky got extra sheets and pillows.
“Please, would I ever?” Starsky came out of the linen closet, feigning a hurt look.
“Yes.” Hutch said, watching Starsky set up the couch for an uncomfortable night of sleep.
“Fine, okay, you win, you got me, yes, I am helping you, horror of horrors. Please, just, don’t say anything and let me? Just until you get your apartment set up.”
Hutch sighed and turned to his rom. At the door way, he stopped and turned, watching Starsky for a minute. “Thanks.” He said simply.
Starsky turned to him. “What else was there for me to do?”
Hutch nodded, and, when no words would come to him, closed the door.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
The next day was mostly office work, sorting papers and getting hearing schedules. This gave Hutch the chance to count that four people got him coffee, five offered to pay for his candy bar, some guys to ‘conveniently’ have some extra lunch, and Starsky to actually do his, and Hutch’s, paper work. Dobey didn’t even yell at him once. By the time Starsky was driving them home, Hutch was practically frothing at the mouth.
“Every person, Starsk, every guy in there had these pathetic eyes staring into my soul every time I used a quarter! I’m a grown man, I---“
“And they’re your friends!” Starsky shouted, cutting Hutch off and slamming on the brakes. “Hutch, you are amazing, really, you could be a beggar on the side of the road with neither shoes nor sheets, and would give the pennies you found by the side of the road to an orphanage!”
Hutch rolled his eyes and looked out the window, but Starsky kept talking, violently shifting the car into gear and flooring the pedal. “You got kicked out, Hutch. You are all but broke, you have nowhere to live; that…that bitch is taking the shirt off your back in this stupid, pointless rampage!” Starsky paused a minute to catch his breath and his partner continued to ignore him. Starsky sighed, “Please, let them help you.” Starsky paused, glancing at the man sitting next to him. “For me. Please.”
Hutch turned back to him, thinking for a moment. “I don’t want your pity, Starsk.”
“Than accept my help.” He rolled to a stop at a red light, and cautiously held his hand across the gear shift, palm up. Hutch stared for a moment before Starsky continued to speak “I know what it’s like, Hutch. Believe it or not, I know what it’s like. To be broken. To have nothing left but your pride. And you fear that if you sacrifice that, you’ll never get it back. You’ll end up feeding off of your friends for the rest of your life. But, Hutch;” Hutch sighed and glanced at his friend, “You are not alone. You will never be. I said it before and I meant it. I will always be with you. So let me help you.”
Hutch thought for a minute before sighing and linking his fingers with the other man. “Okay.” He smiled at the relief Starsky showed. “But if you turn me into a gold digger….”
Starsky laughed, and Hutch couldn’t help but join in. It was the first time he had properly laughed in days, and it felt great. Maybe things weren’t as bad as they seemed, he thought, looking down at their intertwined hands. Maybe things could get better.