The most used disclaimer:
The TV show "Starsky and Hutch", and the characters from it
are the property of the persons who hold the copyrights
and other legal rights to them.
This story is a work of fiction, written for pleasure only
and not for profit. It is not intended, in any way,
to infringe on these preexisting copyrights.

Continuum

Jacqueline©2021-04-28

May 31, 1979

While her plane taxied on the tarmac, Rachel Starsky’s mind slowly returned to reality. She’d been unable to even take a nap during the flight over from New York as her thoughts sped through her mind like a whirlwind. She had spent the past few weeks in a daze. Shocked and numbed by the news that she had feared, yet perhaps had been expecting in the back of her mind, for so many years. That her phone would ring and somebody would bring her the news she dreaded. She remembered that day and that phone call, now a little over two weeks ago. She remembered how she had picked up the phone and instantly, as soon as she’d heard the tone of the familiar voice on the other end of the line, she had known.

20 years ago she had known that sending her firstborn to live with her older sister and husband, to keep the boy from going further down the road from misdemeanors to possibly real criminal offenses, was in his best interest. And although she had voluntarily sent her son across the country at the age of 12, she still knew her firstborn through and through. And so it hadn’t taken her long to guess the severity of his injuries, while his partner and best friend tried to soften the blow and bring the horrible news as diplomatically as he could. And that’s why she could not be angry with Hutch, for not having called her right away, but almost a full day after the fact. She knew her Davey would not have wanted her to worry “unnecessarily” just as much as she knew he would not want to confront her with the sight of another loved one close to dying or already dead from fatal gunshot injuries.

She shivered involuntarily at the memory of so many years ago. She’d been busy making a rub for little Nicky, who was in bed with the flu, when she’d heard a blood-curdling scream coming from outside. She’d dried her hands on her apron and had run towards the door. Outside she had found her oldest boy, on his knees on the sidewalk in front of the steps leading up to their house. And beside Davey lay her husband, her much-beloved Michael Starsky. His long-lashed light blue eyes closed as if he were asleep; a single bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

Internally she had screamed, but outwardly she’d pulled her boy up to his feet and had told him to go next door to the neighbors and call the police station. She had not wanted that call to be made from their own house, afraid her youngest son would pick up on the panic. Then she had knelt next to her husband’s body, had stroked his forehead, had whispered into his ears to give her a sign – any sign. Her whispers had become louder as she had pleaded him to squeeze her hand. To look at her. To say something. To not leave her alone with two little boys to raise.
As she had done this, neighbors and passersby had come seemingly out of nowhere and had surrounded her and her dead husband.

The police and the ambulance had arrived, but of course there was nothing that could be done. Michael Starsky was dead and nothing would change that. She’d been brave and seemed to be in full control as she’d answered the questions of her husband’s colleagues. She had consoled Davey who was obviously in a state of shock and had even been lucid enough to ask a neighbor to go get her parents, a few blocks down.

But when the coroner’s wagon had arrived and had turned Michael Starsky’s body over to transfer him to a gurney, she’d almost lost her footing at the sight of all the dried up blood that covered the back of his head, his back, his legs. She had been brave that day. She had been brave that week; during the funeral and the days after that. But inside she had crumbled, bit by little bit. A widow at 32, with a 7-year-old and 11-year-old son, she was at her wit’s end. Michael Starsky had been the only man in her life and although he had been the impulsive one in their relationship, he was also her rudder. With him gone, Rachel Starsky had lost her base.

Little Davey had been a witness to it all. He had seen how his calm and strong mother had become too sad for a woman her age. Too worried if she’d be able to provide for her two young sons. Too concerned and insecure about whether she could raise them to be good men like their father had been, without him there as an example. And little Davey had promised himself a few things. He would take the worries away from his mother. He would make sure neither his mother, nor his little brother, nor himself would ever have to go without anything they might need. And lastly: he would make sure his mother would never have to be traumatized by the sight of horrific injuries or the death of a loved one ever again.

Although her firstborn had never shared the promise he’d made to himself with her, Rachel knew him well enough to understand the reason why he would not want her at his bedside when he was at his worst.

And so, the horrid moment had arrived. The moment she had dreaded for such a long time. She had been in contact with the leader of the medical team that was caring for Dave, by phone, over the past two weeks. Dr Jamison had found the right tone, the right choice of words, to not only convey to her the gravity of her son’s condition but to do it without causing her grief before its time. He had also been completely truthful and still hopeful, for his years of experience and expertise had made him notice early on what a tenacious fighter her son was. She had relied on all the information he had given her, although she did suspect that some of it may have been censored by Hutch.

Rachel had been receiving daily updates from her sister Rosie, too. Although his aunt was not allowed in his room, unlike Captain Dobey, Hutch, or even Huggy, Rosie Mancowicz had made daily visits to the IC unit at Memorial hospital. There she’d stood in front of the window of her nephew’s room 15 to 30 minutes at a time, studying the still form of Dave as he lay there hooked up to a myriad of IVs and tubes. Rosie would also have short talks with the nurses, with Hutch and even Captain Dobey, and had relayed whatever new information she’d received during her visits right back to Rachel by phone each night. After all, she had practically been a mother to her nephew from the moment he came to live with her and husband Al until he left their home as a young man. And as a mother and as an older sister to Rachel, she knew it was best that Rachel was not confronted with her firstborn's monumental injuries.

Still, it was already two weeks since Detective David Michael Starsky had been injured, so that meant there was hope. And Hutch had said Rachel could come over, which meant the biggest danger was behind them. Her son, her Davey, would not die. He would survive and live.

**********************************************

Her eyes scanned the crowd of people at arrivals as she carried her small suitcase and overnight bag. She put her suitcase down to check her watch. Her flight had not been delayed, yet she could not find that familiar face in the crowd.
As she bent down to pick up her suitcase, somebody else had already grabbed its handle.

“Hey! That’s ……” she exclaimed.

“Hi Mrs. Starsky, I’m sorry I’m a little late. Did you have a good flight?” a slightly hoarse voice asked.

She looked up and as she found the face that belonged to the voice, a slight shudder went through her body. Hutch looked the way his voice sounded: tired and worn. She was shocked by his physical appearance. Granted, he was several years older than her firstborn, but he was hardly old, not even middle-aged yet. Although barely old enough to be his mother, her motherly instincts instantly took over as she put down her overnight bag, cupped his face with both hands, and then hugged him as tight as she could.

“It’s a good thing I’m here now. My sister did not tell me you were injured, too!” she said, then quickly put her index finger over Hutch’s lips when he tried to protest.

“Can we go straight to the hospital?” she continued.

“Well, you’ve uh, you’ve been on such a long flight. Wouldn’t you rather rest up a bit first and freshen up?” Hutch asked, as he also picked up her overnight bag and gestured towards the exit.

“I don’t know….. Should I? I mean ….. how long from here to Memorial? What takes longer? From here to Memorial or to Dave’s apartment? And how long from the apartment to Memorial?”

“Mrs. Starsky, you have the right to visit with Dave around the clock. As next of kin you are not restricted to visiting hours, so….”

“Still that bad, huh?” Rachel quietly asked.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. He’s been off the critical list since the 18th, remember?”

Rachel looked up at Hutch, smiled wearily at him, sighed, and said,
“Maybe it is better if I pull myself together at Dave’s apartment, first.”
She squeezed Hutch’s arm.
“Thank you, Hutch. You’re such a dear.”

*******************************************

Before long they were in Hutch’s battered LTD on their way to Starsky’s apartment. Rachel asked the many questions that she’d always forgotten to ask whenever she’d been on the phone with Hutch. She noticed he was clearly censoring his answers to her, fine-tuning his choice of words. He wasn’t lying to her, nor was he prettying up the truth. He was simply making sure that his words would not give her worried mind the opportunity to create its own visuals of what her son had been through the past two weeks.

They entered Dave’s apartment where she would be staying for the coming days. After she had changed her clothes and refreshed herself, she walked into the kitchen where she found Hutch, lost in thoughts. He looked tired and slightly unkempt; so completely different from when her son first introduced him to her when they were both in the Academy. He’d looked like a model for the Sears catalog back then. Now, however, his posture was slumped, his gait tired, his thinning hair flat and washed-out, the furrow in his brow deep as were the lines on either side of his nose. For now, she chose not to mention her worries about his appearance to Hutch.

“Well, shall we go now?” she asked.

Hutch awakened from his reverie, looked at Rachel, and smiled.
“Sure, let’s go.”

******************************

They stepped out of the elevator together on their way to IC station one. Halfway they were met by ICU nurse Calahan.

“Detective Hutchinson. On your way to your partner?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. This uh, this is my partner’s mother, Mis…. Uh, Mrs. Starsky. Is it alright to ….”

“He’s being checked now. You’ll be able to go in when the team is done. Welcome, Mrs. Starsky. Can I get you anything to drink? Tea, coffee perhaps?”

“No, no, thank you. I’m fine. What …. I’m sorry, what are the doctors checking now?”

“Oh, it’s not the doctors, ma’am. It’s the ICU care team. They are just checking his levels and monitors. If you will excuse me? Detective Hutchinson knows where you can take a seat until they are done.” Nurse Calahan said her last words with a smile and a wink for Hutch, something that did not go unnoticed by Rachel.

Hutch realized that Starsky’s mother looked at him with a smile so reminiscent of his partner’s somewhat mocking expression whenever he’d turn on his charm, and felt a blush coming up. Rachel Starsky had had that effect on Hutch from the time Starsky had first introduced her to him, all those years ago in New York.

Rachel decided this poor, tired, friend of her son’s deserved a break, so to divert Hutch from his own embarrassment, she asked
“On our way over here you told me they had sedated him because of an infection?”

“Yeah, yeah, uhm, but uh, they, they……. He was taken off sedation 2 days ago, but uh, he might still be a bit fuzzy from time to time, so uh….”

“He’s on painkillers, too, right? That might ….”

“Of course, yeah, the uh, the painkillers have their impact on him, too, uh …..”

Members of the ICU care team stepped out of Starsky’s room.

“Is it okay for us to visit him?” Hutch asked one of the nurses.

When the nurse looked somewhat unsure at Rachel, Hutch offered,
“This is Detective Starsky’s mother. I think Dr Jamison said he would arrange clearance for her, too?”

“Oh, of course, forgive me,” the nurse answered before opening the door to Starsky’s room,
“Please, go ahead.”

*********************************************

As they entered the IC room with its diffused lighting, Hutch quickly glanced at his partner. Starsky seemed to be dozing as he lay, eyes closed, in the hospital bed.

Rachel looked at Hutch, then studied her son’s form. His skin was uncharacteristically pale. He still had a nasal cannula and two IV’s were running fluids into his system. More wires and electrodes were attached to monitors. As she tried to determine what the machines could possibly be registering, she heard a soft voice coming from the bed.

“You been here long?”

She looked at her son, who addressed Hutch on the opposite side of the bed.

“No. No, I just got here. I, uh, I brought a special someone to see you,” Hutch replied indicating to Starsky that he should turn his head to find out who his other visitor was.

She watched as her son slowly turned his head towards her, then squinted and frowned, before softly exclaiming,
“Ma? That you?”

Rachel’s eyes welled up, as she softly grabbed her son’s left hand and nodded her head.

“Why ….. how come you’re here?” was Starsky’s next question.

Rachel shook her head and smiled through the mist in her eyes.

Starsky turned towards Hutch again.
“You exaggerated things on the phone? I told ya not to call mom unless it was…..”

“Starsky, you practically died, for chrissake!!!!” Hutch spat out before he could help himself.

“It’s just a shoulder wound, sheesh!” Starsky mumbled.

Hutch immediately realized Starsky did not have his facts straight and was probably thinking of another time and another injury, several years ago. His eyes met Rachel’s and he gave her a subtle nod, which she mirrored in response.

“Davey, you know I would not fly over for just a shoulder wound, don’t you? I didn’t the last time!” Rachel softly said as she stroked her son’s upper arm.
“This time a mere sling for your arm won’t do….. you know that!”
She paused as her loving gaze met her son's questioning eyes.
“This time I had every reason and every right to be with you and see you for myself.”

Starsky looked at his mother a while longer, before muttering
“That bad, huh?”

Rachel nodded her head while a loving smile washed over her features.
“Yes, quite bad. But you know what? You’re here….. you’re getting stronger and all the fine doctors and nurses here…… Hutch and me…… we’re all going to make sure you will make a full recovery….. For now, I just want you to rest…. Do what the doctors tell you to do ….. be a good patient and God will take care of the rest…… Okay?”

“I guess……”

Rachel and Hutch exchanged glances. It was obvious that Starsky’s energy was beginning to diminish for he could barely keep his eyes open.

“Do you think we could find that doctor, uhm, Jamison, Hutch?” Rachel whispered.

“I’ll ask at the desk if he’s available,” Hutch softly replied before leaving the room.

Rachel sat down on the edge of her son’s bed and watched over him as he slumbered.

She was well aware that the shooting had almost taken her son from her, but was still shocked to see much damage was done and how the injuries had already changed her strong son’s physique in such a short time.

Within a few minutes, Hutch returned and stood by the side of the bed.
“Dr Jamison is resting between shifts, now. He will be available tomorrow.” He paused for a moment to study Rachel as she held on to her son’s hand.
“Do you want to stay awhile? Shall I pick you up later?”

Just as she was about to answer, Starsky opened his eyes, looked around the room, focused on his mother, and in a raspy voice asked
“Hey, mom! When did you get here?”

A soft noise, suspiciously close to a sob, escaped from Rachel’s throat before she put on a brave face and answered her son
“I’m sorry I woke you up, sweetheart. Why don’t you go back to sleep and we’ll talk again tomorrow, huh? Go on, now, close your eyes and rest up. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Starsky was too tired to be able to resist and soon drifted off to sleep again.

Rachel gently kissed his forehead, grabbed the hand Hutch offered her, and followed him out of Starsky’s room. In the corridor, she wiped her nose with a handkerchief, then looked up at Hutch. They looked at each other before sharing a heartfelt hug. After releasing each other, they stood side by side in front of the window to Starsky’s room and for a few moments watched him as he slept.

Rachel was the first to step away from her son’s room in the direction of the elevators and Hutch soon followed. They did not speak until they were back on their way to Starsky’s apartment in the LTD.

“I uh, I’ll be ….. I can stay for a week ….. I will have to go back home and arrange things before I can come over for a longer stay…… I need to be at his side and help him out when he gets home, you know? And I have to make an appointment with dr Jamison to ask when Dave can be released, you know, so that I can ….. so that….. once he ……”

She stopped and got out her handkerchief again to wipe her eyes and nose.

After a long pause, she turned to Hutch and in a soft voice asked
“You really spared me in your updates, didn’t you, Hutch? I really could have lost him this time, right?”

Hutch swallowed hard as he turned to briefly look into Rachel’s eyes. Concentrating on the road again, he softly replied
“He’s my best friend, Mrs. Starsky, he…..”

She interrupted him
“Rachel!”

Again Hutch’s eyes briefly found the bright blue eyes of his partner’s mother.
“Back when we became partners he sort of made me …… swear I would not let you near him should he ….. should he suffer horrific injuries or …. Or worse …..”

Hutch sighed deeply and needed to regroup before he could continue
“Nobody ….. especially not a mother …. Should have to be a witness to ….. to…..”

“To what you had to witness?” Rachel asked.

Hutch bit his bottom lip before hoarsely answering
“It’s not about me …… It’s about what could possibly have been the last thing I could do for Starsk….. keep my promise to him …….. You know?”

As they had to wait for the traffic light to turn green, Hutch looked at Rachel pleadingly
“He’s my best friend, Rachel. The closest thing to a brother I have ever had. It wasn’t about me, it wasn’t about you. It was about not breaking a promise ……”

When they arrived at Starsky’s apartment, Rachel stopped Hutch from getting out of the car right away by grabbing his arm.
“You are a wonderful friend, Hutch ….. I’d say as close as next of kin. I know I really don’t need to ask you, but just to give me peace of mind ….. will you make me a promise, too?”

Hutch tilted his head and raised his brows.

“Promise me you will help me heal my son? I have a feeling that, if you will help me do that for him, you just might start healing yourself a bit, too …… don’t you think? Look at it this way, Hutch: the glass is half full…. If we work together, we can all heal.”

Hutch turned his head towards Rachel in shock, after hearing her say words similar to the ones that Starsky had uttered in another life and death situation.

He took a deep breath before exiting the car.

Next, he opened the passenger door and held his hand out to Rachel. As they stood before Starsky’s apartment he finally answered her.
“Starsk is really his mother’s son……. Of course I’ll help you, Rachel….. I promise.”