Title: "One more step" – Chapter 13

Author: IROS

Fandom: Starsky & Hutch

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights, I don't get money and this is for entertainment only. Oops! Errors are entirely mine.

The broadcast news on the radio reduced all the men in Dobey's office to silence.

Bay City authorities have identified the remains of Anthony "Big Tony" Zucker discovered yesterday in a backyard in the west area, but have yet to identify a suspect in his killing, police told today.

The victim was linked to a wide drugs and arms dealing ring, as well as was investigated in relation to the unresolved recent slaying of one young Bay City citizen, Mike Hackmann, the police spokesman John Walsh said.

"Full circle, huh," Hutch muttered, clearly more to himself than the rest of them "Guess I have to renew my faith there is a divine justice after all."

"Guess it is," Dobey mumbled back. "Lucky us. Someone saved us a lot of trouble."

Dobey raised his left hand and ran it through his head, seating back on his chair, his eyes rolling up to meet his detective's. A quiet look of understanding passed between the two men.

"Captain, Detective... Sounds to you like a punishment from the inside?" the largest man of the two FBI agents in the same room enquired.

"Sounds like anything. I don't care anymore." Hutch answered nonchanantly.

"We will know in a few days. Let's just see who is inheriting his seat in the club. It will be our first clue. It was a professional job. A sniper. No case shells on any of the rooftops at range to be found. It had been raining all night, that means any additional traces down the drain. Anyone could have hired this job. One thing is for sure, whoever is behind it knew quite well Tony's itineraries. Knew the best place to ambush him."

"Very well, gentlemen. That's that then. Detective Hutchinson. Captain. You have all our gratitude for your collaboration. Will be in touch. Please send us a copy of the report file."

"Will do. Thank you, gentlemen. There is an official car to escort you to the airport."

As soon as the two FBI men left the room Dobey left the comfort of his cushioned chair to face his senior Detective.

"Hutch, what's happening to Starsky? Huggy called to say he was at Huggy's apartment running a high fever and couldn't come to work. He was supposed to be with you. What happened to him? I don't buy the flu thing. It did sound more like a major hangover to me."

"The truth? I wouldn't be surprised you're right, cap. He tried to talk me out of the op. I guess he couldn't stand being around just today."

"Go and give him the good news then."

Starsky stared past the gun that was aiming at him. He stared past Big Tony's trembling hand, his frowning mouth, pouting lips; his frantic voice. To that other familiar face so vivid in his mind, his friend's face. The one that didn't blink an eye, that one that had accepted his fate, that one that was ready to do the ultimate sacrifice out of honor and loyalty. His hand didn't shake when its index finger pulled his sniper riffle trigger and Big Tony fell face down.

Hutch had been waiting for his partner to come around for an hour then. For what Huggy told him, Starsky looked genuinely sick when he came to Huggy's the night before, soaking wet and with a glazed look in his eyes. So Hutch didn't hesitate to keep an eye on his partner's uneasy sleep, waiting silently in the dark in that only piece apartment. In fact, his own high of feeling alive and free again when his near future had looked almost inexistent had worn him out to the point that darkness was more than welcome to lessen his overexcitement.

Hearing now those soft familiar wimping sounds of the last shared nights with Starsky on that lousy motel made him quietly move by his side. For the soft jerks Hutch saw in Starsky's shoulder, and the sound of his uneven breathing, as far as Hutch could tell his friend was softly weeping.

At hearing the escalating of his muffled sobs, Hutch shook his partner gently, trying not to jar him awake. "Come on, buddy. Wake up." It did not help. Starsky bolted up in bed, sweat beading on his forehead, tears dripping down his cheeks, his entire body shaking. "It's okay, Starsk. It's over. It's over. Shhh… It's okay buddy, breathe. Shhh…" The blondie rubbed and patted his friend's back. "It's okay, boy. I'm right here. I'm right here. Easy. Easy. Just a nightmare."

"I... don't have... nightmares." the curly wheezed out, struggling for breath, but quickly brushing out of his face any traces of his distress.

"Feel happy to have just nightmares and not being completely delusional."

"What?! Why? What are you doing here?"

"That's what I mean precisely, wise ass. I shouldn't be here at all, should I? Big Tony? I see you haven't heard of it." Hutch had an appreciative look over his partner. "You look awful... What happened to you?"

" Hutch... I feel sick... And I don't feel like much talking right now."

"Then, you just listen... Big Tony is dead and I am free. Someone make me the greatest gift of my life. All is well that ends well. That's why I am here and not dying the death of the thousand cuts. But you don't see so glad to see me."

"Of course I am glad to see you out of it. Those are great news. Sorry... I really feel sick I can't think straight..." Starsky sounded awkwardly defiant, expecting him to protest and pick up a fight, but Hutch disarmed him with a broad smile.

"Hey... Forget about yesterday. Is that what's eating you?"

Starsky smiled back in a forced grin. "You know me all too well. I am sorry, blintz."

"Don't give it a second thought. It was my fault. I should have never put that burden on your shoulders. You were right. It was something I had to face alone. I couldn't expect you to take my by the hand to my own funeral. I wouldn't have done it."

"There are always options. Lucky us we do not have that concern anymore. (...) I am glad to see you here, blintz. I really do." They fell into silence. The atmosphere in the small bedroom was thick with tension when Huggy came with a tray with coffee for the three of them, in a perfect sense of timing for what Starsky was particularly grateful.

There were always options. Starsky had found his own. Was there such a thing as a mercy killing...? When he had been in the Army, he had to kill. He had to do immoral things. He had no opinion or voice. He had been turned in to a monster of sorts long time ago. Using it on his best friend's advantage had not been easy to decide, but his last resort. But he couldn't stop fathoming if it had been also a selfish act, trying to erase the last remains of having given away his friend, his brother, against an irrational fear that he had been unable to control. That was what had been really eating at him.

At least for now though, feeling physically ill was a small comfort in his mind. The sharp pain in his leg, the splitting headache took his thoughts away from what had really happened, how he had forced himself down to a forbidden path he never thought he would undertake again. He didn't have to think about his inner torture, how opposite he had been to his own self or to that of the man he had strived to be all those last years.

There were always options and that had been the one he choose. Big Tony was dead and his brother was safe. He wasn't sure what that made of him but that he would never share with Hutch. Hopefully, like he managed to do so many years back when he had been finally rescued from the jungle, he could forget about this later, not have to think about it, close the door and keep living with it.

Watching his two dear friends sharing a cup of coffee with him, by his side, warmed his heart, and that would have to do until he could manage to reverse the reality of what he did. The reality that even killing a monster did not feel right.

THE END