All usual disclaimers apply, I don't own the rights, I don't get money and this is for entertainment only. Please excuse any errors; they are entirely mine. I was 'mugged' by this story. It came out of nowhere and demanded to be written right NOW.

This is for my new pal, Kreek, who thought I should write a death story – this was as close as I could come to it. This is not a death story.

It was a disaster, a literal crush. Part of the huge ski chalet had collapsed with when the wall of white death hurled into it. The owners of the chalet had roused their guests as soon as they had found out that there was a possibility of an avalanche. The heavy snowfall the night before had dumped tons of fresh snow on the mountaintop.

They had assembled their guests in the lobby and had hoped to evacuate the place in an orderly fashion to avoid accidents. It wasn't to be. The wall of snow slammed into the lobby and buried everyone who was in there. It had still been dark out and no one could see it coming. There had been a rumble, like distant thunder mere moments before it slammed into the building. That was all the warning that they had. By then, it was too late.

The Ski Patrol had started out earlier that morning to set off little avalanches to prevent a big one, but they had arrived too late and could only watch in horror as the snow broke away from the precipice with a deafening crack and crashed its way down the slope, growing ever larger as it went. Charlie Smalls, captain of the patrol, radioed immediately for assistance, knowing that there would be casualties. Snow Village Ski Chalet was directly in its path.

The call went out and help had arrived fairly quickly, despite the snowfall. Snowplow crews had been out since two that morning and had plowed the most of the main roads. This was fortunate as time was of the essence. The rescuers were well aware that there were three dangers for the victims, the first being suffocation, second the cold and third from injuries sustained in the avalanche.

Hutch was one of the lucky ones. He had been in the john when it happened. He had been in one of the restrooms furthest from the lobby and many walls separated him from the damage. He had heard the smashing of the lobby glass, timbers and the screams that had erupted and just as quickly, were snuffed out. "STARSKY!" He had screamed his friend's name reflexively. The lights in the restroom went out as the power was cut.

When the sounds had stopped, Hutch had tried to exit the door only to find it wouldn't budge. He had to remove the pins that held the door hinges in place because it had been blocked with snow and debris and he couldn't open it any other way. When he got the door off its hinges, he found that snow was blocking the entire doorway. He then had to dig the rest of the way out of the restroom and into the hallway using a toilet lid.

The first rays of light from the new day greeted him when he finally poked his head out of the hole he had dug. He was shocked. He surveyed the area where the lobby had been, where Starsky had been waiting for him. The lobby was gone; it was buried under tons of debris and snow. "Starsky" The brunet's name came out as a gasp. His friend was buried in that mess.

A bit of motion caught his eye and he focused on it. A little mitten poked out of the snow just a few feet from him. Hutch quickly grabbed the mitten to see if there was a hand was in it, there was. The hand wiggled and grabbed his hand. The child was alive.

Quickly, he began digging; he shouted, "Help! I need some help over here!" He didn't waste time looking for anyone to help him, he kept digging, knowing that every second was vital. He pushed his concern for Starsky back for now. Starsky would never thank him for thinking of his life over that of a child. He dug around the hand and soon he had the child's face clear of snow. The delicate features were blue from cold and lack of oxygen "HELP! Someone! Help!"

"Hey! We got a live one back there – hang on mister, we're comin'" Someone called back.

"Thank God!" Rescuers were just arriving on the scene. Hutch continued his frenzied digging, trying to free the child, a girl, judging from the pink snowsuit "Hurry! I've got a child here!"

In seconds there were many helping hands and the girl popped free of the snow. A medic grabbed her and hustled out to a warm waiting ambulance to try to warm her up and check for other injuries.

"How about you? Anything hurt or broken?" A member of the Ski Patrol asked him.

"No, not a scratch" Hutch brushed off the concerned rescuer as he stared at what had once been the lobby. It was filled to near ceiling height with snow and debris. He swallowed hard. Starsky was in that mess. Somewhere. He could feel it.

Hutch thought back to what he knew about avalanches. He knew that as it raced down hill, the snow warmed up, melting just a little and within seconds of stopping, froze hard. This caused anyone trapped within to be unable to free themselves. The snow could jam itself into ears, nose, mouth and eyes. If the victim were lucky, a small space might be left around their mouth and nose, allowing them to have up to a half hour or more of breathing time. That was if they were lucky. It was usually far less time then that. Most avalanche victims suffocated long before they froze to death.

He glanced at his watch. It had taken him about ten minutes to free himself; several more to free the little girl, so maybe fifteen minutes total. Half the time that a lucky avalanche victim had, was already gone.

"Oh, Starsk…" His stomach clenched as he scanned the scene. He watched as rescuers lined up in a row and began using long thin probes to locate people. They stood nearly shoulder-to-shoulder and pushed the probes into the snow to try to locate victims. He took a deep fortifying breath and joined them. He had to find Starsky.

----

Starsky regained consciousness slowly. It was cold. It was dark and hard to breathe. Pain, there was pain. He was missing someone… blond hair, blue eyes Hutch? Yes, that was the blond's name, Hutch. He couldn't move, he wanted to move, needed to, but he couldn't. He had to find him, Hutch? Are you in this cold blackness too? As consciousness gently departed, he found himself hoping that Hutch wasn't buried in the black cold.

----

The rescue workers had pulled several survivors out, at first, but now the people they pulled out were dead. The victims were checked carefully for life. Hypothermia would slow everything down so they had to be very careful so as not to make a mistake and miss a pulse that had been slowed by the cold. But some of the victims were obviously dead due to the injuries that they had sustained.

The dead were removed and placed out of sight behind the tool shed, one of the few buildings that had remained standing and they were gently placed in the snow and their faces were covered with towels. Blankets were need for the living, as were the remaining buildings; warmth was needed to keep the victims going until they could be sent down the mountain. The rescuers who needed a break from the exhausting labor rested and warmed themselves in a separate building.

Hutch kept working. The time rapidly ticked away as if it were seconds instead of minutes. His friend was buried somewhere in this mess. He was going to find him. Starsky was going to be alive when he found him. Hold on buddy, I'll find you. Just hold on!

Hutch closed his eyes briefly; his stubborn friend would not go without saying goodbye. Hutch opened his eyes and looked at his watch, reality stared back at him. Over two hours had gone by since the avalanche. The bright sunlight and the clear blue sky belied the grim truth of the scene. His shoulders slumped. A hand clasped his shoulder. He turned his head to see who it was.

"Sometimes there are air pockets. I heard of this one girl who survived nearly a week of being buried. She lost a foot and some toes, but she was alive" Charlie Smalls patted the blond's shoulder. Everyone knew who Hutch was looking for. Ken 'Hutch' Hutchinson had talked to everyone, telling them who David Starsky was, what he looked like and what he had been wearing. "You should take a break, rest-"

"I can't rest, not 'til I find him!" Hutch turned back to the snow filled room and resumed his search.

----

Starsky again surfaced from the bliss of unconsciousness. A person was next to him. He hadn't noticed that before. He could feel the person struggle. "Calm down, relax, breathe slowly" He whispered to the person. He couldn't shout, the dwindling air supply and the frozen snow that encased him wouldn't let him expand his chest enough for that.

He felt the struggles fade. Then he felt them stop, they didn't move again. This saddened him. He was touching the person and he would never know their name or anything else about them. He sent up a silent prayer for their soul. It was all he could do.

Think. He had to think. It was so difficult as he was so cold and so tired. He tried to open his eyes but all he could see was darkness. Okay, move, let's see what I can move he wiggled his toes, it hurt but he could do that. Next he tried his fingers and they moved too. Again there was pain, but at least he knew he wasn't paralyzed

C'mon Hutch! Get me outta here! I'm getting a little scared here. It's cold and dark. Help me buddy, please! He knew he had to stay awake. He kept wiggling his fingers and toes to keep them from freezing. Plus it gave him a task that he could concentrate on.

----

Hutch helped to carry yet one more corpse out to the grim pile that was forming behind the tool shed. He scanned the bodies, looking for Starsky's blue parka. He didn't see it. He turned and went back to help dig for more people. Hold on partner, I'm comin' I'll find you, just hold on!

----

Starsky could hear digging. He could feel the vibrations as it drew near. This way! Dig this way! You're getting closer… He couldn't help himself; tears formed and trickled down his face. He squeezed his eyelids tight and tried to blink; only to find that his horror that his lashes had frozen shut. He tried to open them and panted in fear.

He realized what he was doing and struggled to control his breathing, he didn't want to use up his meager air supply. But it was already too late; he lost consciousness as the last of his air ran out. His last thought was I'm sorry Hutch, I can't hold on anymore

----

Hutch collapsed from exhaustion. He had been working at a frantic pace, trying desperately to free the victims and find Starsky. The other rescuers had tried to get him to pace himself but he wouldn't, couldn't slow down, Starsky was in that mess. Charlie and another worker lifted Hutch and carried him to the building being used for the rescuers.

Charlie made sure a nurse was helping the blond and then he headed back to the disaster area, saddened anew at the bleak site. If only he and his crew had gotten to the peak just a few minutes earlier, perhaps they could have avoided this whole mess… His thoughts were interrupted a fellow rescuer calling to him.

"Hey Charlie, come here" Mike Wagner waved Charlie over to the two bodies they had just exposed. One of them fit the description of Hutchinson's friend.

He looked down at the two people that Mike and the others had found, one had on a blue parka and had curly brown hair "Oh shit" Charlie shook his head slowly, this was going to devastate the blond.

"Should I go get him?" Mike started off to inform the detective.

Charlie grabbed him by the arm "No, not yet, let's just wait until he recovers a bit before we give him the bad news" They removed the two bodies and put them behind the tool shed and went back to look for more victims.

----

A truck arrived to remove the bodies and take them down the mountain to the makeshift coroner's area that had been set up in the High school. Since there were so many bodies, they were lined up on the floor of the gymnasium and allowed to thaw out a little. Then a little clean up and a quick autopsy would be done to help identify and record the cause of death for each victim.

Families and friends would then be invited in to positively identify the victims as soon as some of them had been made a little more presentable. What the avalanche and debris had done to some of them wasn't pretty. So it was fortunate that the local mortician was also the coroner. He had the skills and tools to make them look presentable.

----

Hutch awoke nearly an hour later. He was furious when he found out that they had found a man that matched Starsky's description and had not told him.

"Who the HELL do you think you are? He's my best friend! I told you how important this was, YOU knew how important this was!" Hutch slammed Charlie against the wall "Why didn't you wake me?!" He shoved his right forearm hard against the man's throat, cutting off his air "Huh? Would that have been so hard?" He glared into Charlie's eyes.

Charlie coughed and choked as he tried to answer the angry and anguished man.

A couple of local police officers rushed over and pulled Hutch away from Charlie. A few more rescue workers placed themselves between the enraged man and their friend as the cops loosened their grip on Hutch.

"Just calm down now, you're not the only one here that lost someone today" One of the officers snapped at him.

Hutch dropped his head to his chest "You should have told me Charlie. You should have told me…" Hutch put his coat back on and headed for the tool shed. He had to see Starsky. Despite the bright sunshine, it was the darkest, longest walk that he ever took.

He didn't want to see Starsky, not this way, but he had to see him. He had to be sure. He rounded the corner and saw that all the bodies had been removed. He followed the truck tire prints to the driveway and then dashed back to the building.

He burst through the door and ran to the officers "Where did they take the bodies?"

As soon as they informed him, he begged them for a ride down the mountain as the parking lot was buried by the avalanche and was of very low priority so he couldn't get his car and drive himself. One of the snowplow drivers, upon hearing Hutch's plight offered him a ride on his return trip to town.

Hutch was impatient the entire ride, but Sam was not to be rushed and did his civic duty as he plowed the roads on his way back to town.

----

Starsky awoke to find himself surrounded by bodies. Cold bodies. He was confused, did this mean that he was dead too? Wait, the dead can't think, can they? He tried to open his eyes but his lids refused to move. He tried moving his body but he was packed in tightly. He was shaking with fear inside, but he could feel that he wasn't moving outside. He tried wiggling his fingers and toes, he thought that they moved but couldn't be sure. He was so cold now. HUUUUTCH help me! He screamed, but no sound issued from his mouth. Terror enveloped him and his mind did the only thing it could to protect him, it shut down and he fainted.

Sometime later, he awoke as felt himself being moved and he attempted to talk to the men carrying him. He could make no sound. He could hear them talking, their voices were quite clear.

"Cryin' God damn shame this is"

"Yeah, ain't it just? Imagine, you're minding your own business, enjoying the weekend and WHAM! The next thing you know, you're buried in an avalanche. Shit, I hate this… You know that the wife and I were gonna head up there next week, just her and I, no kids…" The man adjusted Starsky's weight and continued, "Shit man… I'm gonna have nightmares about today for the longest time…"

"Yeah, me too, so many people dead, how'd we get so damned lucky to get the job of moving the dead? Huh?"

Starsky heard the other man laugh and then say "Hey! I got it, we're working STIFFS!"

Both of the men carrying him burst out laughing. Black humor, gallows humor, whatever you wanted to call it. Starsky was well acquainted with it and he was guilty of it too when life as a cop got bad. But still, he didn't appreciate the humor at this moment because they thought he was dead, and he wasn't. He couldn't even tell them. And he tried, really tried.

He felt them carry him into a building. His eyelids were still frozen shut, but he could feel the warmth of the air as someone opened the door and the workers carried him in.

"Where do you want this one?" one of the workers asked someone.

"Put him on the autopsy table, might as well start with a man, I just hate doing women and kids… kids are the worst" The sound of a curtain being pulled back could be heard.

NO! I'm not DEAD! HUTCH HELP! Partner, I really need you, NOW! Starsky thought as loud as he could. His mind fairly screaming for help, he tried to move, wiggle something, anything. He felt them place him on the table. His fear increased. Oh God, would they even check for a pulse before cutting on him? Maybe they would hear him breathe; maybe he could wiggle a finger or two and get them to notice that he wasn't dead…

"Hey, could you help us a minute? There's a really big man on the truck and we could use a little help with him"

Go with them! Please go with them… Starsky thought feverishly

"Alright, just this once though, I'm the only coroner here and I got to get started, as you can see, I have a lot of work to do"

Starsky was relieved to hear the men leave. Then a series of thoughts hit him. Where is Hutch? What if Hutch is injured and at the hospital? What if he is still buried? Then the biggest andmost frightening thought occurred to him what If Hutch is dead? Who will help me then?

He had to let the coroner know that he was still alive. It was that simple. His lids were still frozen, but hopefully the ice would soon melt and all he would have to do was blink. Okay, it was a nice plan. He tried his fingers again. He could feel them but he wasn't sure that they moved. Not good. He tried his toes, but he was so cold he wasn't sure they were moving or not, either.

All too soon the coroner came back and began to remove his clothing. Starsky felt the man pull off his boots and socks. Then the man turned him on his side and cut down the middle of the back of his parka, shirt, jeans and underwear. This made for easier removal of the clothes and when finished; the victim could easily be redressed for viewing by family and friends. In short order, he was naked as the day he was born. He tried to move. Scream. Anything. Nothing worked, nothing moved.

I'm alive! DON'T CUT ME! Please! He silently screamed. He wasn't sure of how in-depth an autopsy the man would do. He hoped it wasn't a full one where the coroner would make a Y incision on his chest and crack open his sternum and remove his organs for examination and weight measurements… His fearful thoughts banged around his head like a wild bird in a cage.

Starsky was panicking in his mind at the prospect. He had seen many autopsies done. He knew what they entailed and he prayed that none of it would happen to him. But he was powerless to stop it. He could only listen in horror as the man began. He again tried to move, speak.

I'M ALIVE! I'M ALIVE! The silent screams were so loud in his head that Starsky was sure that the man had to have heard them. He waited.

The coroner didn't notice, didn't hear. He started to describe Starsky in cold, clinical terms "Caucasian male, approximate age 32, height: about five foot, ten inches, well muscled, athletic build, approximate weight 170 pounds, eye color…" The man attempted to pull his eyelids open "Lids are frozen shut…"

Hey! That hurts! C'mon mister, try harder, get 'em open, I'll blink at ya! You ghoul…

"Hmm, frozen, well the lights will melt the ice… let's see, moving on. Skin, cyanotic and cold to the touch. Visible damage, some bruising and contusions, broken right leg" He lifted the damaged limb and palpated it "Closed fracture of the tibia and fibula"

Starsky nearly fainted from the pain. Stay awake, stay awake…He encouraged himself. My toes, look at my toes dammit! They're wiggling, I hope…

The man put the leg down and lifted the other one and felt along it "No apparent damage to the left leg" The man pressed on his hip bones, then pulled on them "no apparent hip fractures"

Starsky felt the man work his way up his body; describing him as he had heard other coroners describe bodies from cases he and Hutch had worked on. It terrified him to hear himself descried in such a fashion, but he was powerless to stop it.

The man finally worked his way back to Starsky's head "A knot here over the left temple" The man felt all over his head, neck and finally his face "no obvious cranial or facial fractures" Some more pushing and probing then "Oh yeah, the eye color" The man pulled open one lid "Blue" and promptly dropped a cloth over his head. Covering it.

No! No! NO! NONONONONO! Starsky screamed mentally. It had all happened so fast that he didn't have a chance to blink at the man. He then heard what he had been dreading the most, the sound of metal tools being shoved around a metal plate. HELP! HELP ME! SOMEBODY! PLEASE!

----

Hutch was so upset with the snowplow driver that he didn't even thank him for the ride to the High school. It had seemed like the man had plowed every road on the way to the school. Every time that Hutch tried to hurry him along, the man would look at him and say "Beggars can't be choosers" Once the man had said "Your friend ain't gonna get any deader" When he said that, Hutch shoved his warning finger in the man's face and quietly informed him that he did not appreciate that kind of humor.

The driver finally pulled up to the main entrance of the school. They were both glad to be shut of each other. The driver pulled away from the school and Hutch was too busy hurrying to the doors of the school to notice or even care that the man had flipped him off as he drove away.

Hutch flashed his badge at the cop that was guarding the gymnasium door and began looking for Starsky amid the bodies that were lined up in neat rows. He didn't see the blue parka. It then occurred to him that maybe Starsk had taken it off; it had been warm in the lobby. He started flipping the blankets off from over the heads of the men who fit Starsky's basic size. Nothing. Starsky wasn't there.

Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose. Did that mean Starsky was still up on the mountain, buried? His head began to pound. A migraine was on its way. Then he heard a saw start up. He knew that type of saw, a coroner's bone saw. That meant that the coroner was working on someone… Starsky?

"STARSKY!" Hutch bellowed as he bolted across the gym to the section that was curtained off. He shoved the curtain aside and stared at the body that lay before him on the metal table. The body's face was covered, but the rest was naked. It was a male body.

The coroner nearly dropped the bone saw that he was checking at the interruption "What the hell are you doing? You can't come in here!" He turned the saw off. "You need to leave, now!" The man put the saw down and advanced on the intruder.

Hutch ignored the man. He knew that body. The gun shot scar on his leg clinched it for Hutch "Starsky…" He started to sob, his eyes filled with tears.

The coroner stopped. The blond had clearly recognized the body and was grieving. He stepped back and pulled a sheet over the body. "I'll give you a few minutes to say goodbye" He exited the area and pulled the curtain closed to give the man some privacy. He needed to have a smoke before making the first incision for the internal portion of the autopsy.

"Thank you" Hutch whispered. His eyes did not leave the still form before him; he went to the body and rested his hands on the metal table. "I'm so sorry buddy… I looked for you… Oh Starsky, I'm sorry" The tears started to flow.

He pulled the cloth from Starsky's head. Aside from a lump on the side of his head and a faint blue color, more so on his lips then anywhere else; Starsky looked as if he were merely sleeping and not dead.

"You look c-cold, let me get you a blanket" He found a heavy blanket and wrapped it around his friend. He then picked up Starsky off the cold metal table and sat down on the floor, cradling his best friend in his lap. He put Starsky's head on his shoulder and cuddled him. The body was somewhat stiff with cold.

"I'll warm you up buddy. You're so c-cold, I-I'm sorry, I'm so s-sorry" Hutch began to slowly rock his friend as he gently held Starsky's head to his shoulder. "I was too slow, I couldn't find you… I'm h-here now, I-I'm here"

He buried his face in the curls and combed his fingers through them. The curls seemed to cling to his fingers as though attempting to hug the long digits. It was as if they now possessed a life of their own, now that Starsky, the man, was dead.

"I-I found you, it's too late, b-but I found you" Tears streamed down his face and into Starsky's hair "I-I'm s-sorry I-I'm getting you all w-wet, you'll catch your d-death of c-cold-" He wiped ineffectively at his tears.

He gently adjusted Starsky and reclined the brunet across his lap so that he could open his coat and warm his friend better. A part of him knew that this wasn't really sane behavior. His friend was dead. He didn't need to be warm. But as much as Starsky had enjoyed learning to ski this weekend, he hated to be cold. So, I will warm you one last time, it's the least I can do.

As he opened his coat Hutch noticed that the shoulder was wet. How had that happened? Had he cried so much that his tears had wet his coat? How could that be?

He then turned to look at Starsky's face and saw tears streaming down the sides of his friend's face. Confused, he simply stared at the tears as they welled in his friend's eyes and slid silently down his face and into the brown curls. He traced the tracks of tears down the side of Starsky's face to the hairline with his finger. Puzzled, he rubbed his thumb and index finger together. The tears were warm. The dead don't cry… but the living do…

"Starsk? Starsky?" He held his breath, hardly daring to believe. He brushed back the curls off of Starsky's forehead "Starsk?" He waited for any type of response. He lightly patted the blue cheeks. "C'mon buddy, open your eyes… you can do it babe" He again held his breath, worried that the tiny sound might drown out any sound that his friend might make. He waited and hoped. He patted the still face again.

Slowly, the eyelids raised nearly half open and cobalt blue eyes connected with his. In those deep blues was a pleading look. A frightened look. "Hush" The sound was so quiet, but it was there, nonetheless.

"Starsky! Oh my God! Help" The words came out as mere squeaks; he cleared his throat and tried again "HELP!" Hutch pulled Starsky into his embrace and held on tightly. Oh God, the coroner had almost cut into his friend… his live friend…. his conscious friend.

The coroner pulled back the curtain and looked down at the pair on the floor "What's going on?"

"Call an ambulance NOW! He's alive! HE'S ALIVE!" Hutch tightened his grip even further as he glared at the butcher who had nearly cut into his friend. If he had been just a few seconds later… He hugged Starsky close.

"Hush, don' yell. Hurts" The sound was muffled, but there.

The coroner heard "Oh My GOD! He IS alive! Tom! Call Medflight, we need a chopper here on the double!" He approached the blond and held out a hand to assist him in standing.

"Get Away From Us" Hutch bit out each word as he glared at the man.

The coroner nodded, accepting the anger. He had nearly made a horrible mistake today. "Follow me, I show you where the school infirmary is"

Still glaring, Hutch gave the man a single stiff nod.

"S'alright Starsk, I gottcha babe" He lifted his friend and carried him to the school's infirmary and lay him on a cot there. He kicked off his shoes then removed his shirt and climbed in and pulled Starsky into his arms, knowing that skin-to-skin body contact was best for warming someone who was hypothermic.

Starsky opened his eyes "M-made it p-partner" His eyelids drifted shut, knowing he was safe, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep - the temporary, healing kind.

"Yep, sure did" He carded his hand through Starsky's hair. But it was too close buddy, way too close. He gave him a brief squeeze. Then Hutch stared at the coroner, a red haze formed before his eyes as the full realization hit him of just how close Starsky had come to being murdered by that man.

"Who are you?" He snapped, quietly so as not to disturb Starsky.

"Sidney Sidwell" Was the reply as the man wheeled over an oxygen cylinder and handed a high flow oxygen mask to Hutch, who placed it over Starsky's mouth and nose.

"Just what kind of doctor are you?" His gaze was angry and expectant.

"I'm not a doctor, I'm a mortician by trade and this town's coroner by vote" The man hung his head and slumped his shoulders. He wasn't a bad man. He had just assumed that anyone brought to him was dead. That's what he was here for. He was truly sorry that he had almost killed someone.

"Well, call a real doctor and have him check everyone out there in the gymnasium, I don't even want to think about what you nearly did to my partner happening to anyone else. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" He felt Starsky move, disturbed by his shouting.

"Shh, sorry babe, s'okay, just rest" He soothed gently and felt his friend relax once more. He returned his steely gaze to the coroner.

Sidney nodded and left to make the call. There would be no more mistakes. He would have nightmares about this for a long time.

----

The medical helicopter arrived twenty minutes later and Starsky was taken to intensive care and slowly, properly, re-warmed. Initially, his core temperature was in the high eighties, which placed him firmly in the severely hypothermic range.

If the doctors could be believed, it was a miracle that Starsky had been able to move and even talk a little. With a core temperature that low, he should have been unresponsive and in a coma. Hutch could only smile at that. Leave it to Starsky to break the rules, even hard and fast medical rules.

As he recovered, there were nightmares and panic attacks; but as always, Hutch was there to see him through it. Starsky would recover, as long as Hutch was by his side.

The End

(Of Part #1)

After receiving many requests, there will be more to this story. I will continue it at some point in time, don't know when… I was working on three other stories when this one butted into the line.

Part #2

White Death – The Aftermath