Author's Note: Just another short one I've had sitting around with no courage to post. This story is unbeta'd

Disclaimer: I own no part of Starsky & Hutch or their creators, but I do like to make them suffer


I'm dreaming that I've drunkenly smuggled veal into your hospital room. It is a different place full of sunlight and devoid of machines, tubes and hushed tones. This room is bright with color and life and you smile up at me with a grin that takes my breath away. Giddy as school boys, drunk as skunks, we joke and feast on The Starsky Special. Dobey and Huggy are here too until a lantern sparks the sprinkler system and I am shocked awake. I worry that I've jostled you somehow so I raise myself carefully and find you the same as when I closed my eyes. This room is where reality truly lies.

It's been two weeks since your eyes were open last. I about had a heart attack when I turned to find you looking at me with a ghost of a smile on your lips. For two days we rejoiced your open eyes but it was to be short lived. Pneumonia invaded your lungs, fever from infection pulled you back under into the comfort of coma and the tubes were forced back down your throat. They packed you with ice, tried to pry me away until they finally gave that up and told me to hold you close and pray. I did more than that, Starsk. I kissed you when they weren't looking, I babbled into your ear for hours on end every encouragement, platitude, and cliché that I could think of until I was blue in the face. I talked and held you through seizures so violent I thought they would shake you lose this life. And when you became septic and they told me to prepare myself, I threw every angry word I had at every deity I could think of demanding a miracle. Where is my miracle, Starsk?

The ventilator's whoosh soothes my aching body back into sleep and I am again beside you in bed, clinking my wine glass against your own and toasting your good health. Where ever you go, buddy, I'll follow. Me and Thee. Forever.