This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit, and is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders of the rights to Starsky and Hutch.

Many thanks to Starsky’s Strut for her wonderful beta work.

I owe this short piece of fanfic to J. McCartney. No doubt. She has been my muse to write it.

Warning: This is a Death Story. Don’t read further if you dislike these kind of stories.

Hutch, 'if' I were to get gunned down, and, well, die...

I don't want to talk about it, Starsky.

Yeah, but listen...if something happens, I want you to keep
working, okay?

Drop it, Starsky…Please. Drop this fucking matter, will ya?

Hutch, listen…

Shut up, Starsky! I told you I don’t wanna talk about it!

The driver of the car behind the Torino sounded his horn to make Hutch aware that the light had changed to green, abruptly tearing the blond one off from his musings.

Those words that now replayed over and over in his mind had been almost the last ones he had exchanged with his partner and best friend. As if fate had played a grisly game with them... As if somehow Starsky had a dark foreboding minutes before exhaling his last breath, the curly-haired detective had been trying to ask Hutch to go on with his life and his career in the force if something were to happen to him.

And the last thing I said to him when we still had time was ‘shut up’…Hutch thought regretfully. Not how much he meant to me. Not how much love and joy he had brought to my life, but ‘shut up, Starsky’.

Two nights earlier they had been on a stakeout, watching the front door of a abandoned warehouse near the piers where supposedly a ring of drug dealers were holding their illegal activities.

Everything was quiet until a couple of shots did break the silence of the night, calling both detectives to meet their fate… dragging Hutch to his ultimate encounter with nothingness. Wrapping his whole universe and his very soul in a cocoon of bleak silence…

The silence that always accompanies the one left behind.

Short minutes later, while the blood dripped off of Starsky’s body and life left him, turning off forever the sparkling light from his indigo eyes… Hutch knew that though he was going to get out of there on his own and was physically unscathed; even if his heart would keep beating and life would go on around him, nothing would ever be the same.

He wouldn’t see again that warm smile that had brightened his days more than any other sight.

He wouldn’t feel, not even once more, the touch of those caring hands…hands that had conveyed safety, comfort and the greatest love with a simple squeeze to his shoulder.

Hutch wouldn’t hear anymore the words that had been able to lift his spirits and make him feel loved and cared for, as if he were much more than a simple human being.

And if fate had decided to take those gifts away from him: if he couldn’t see that smile, feel that touch, and hear that voice any more…

Then, for Hutch there wouldn’t be anything more.

No more happiness, solace or hope.

Just silence…