Revelations

And then my best friend shattered. You know, you see it in the movies and television and read about it in books, but nothing prepares you for it in real life. I watched as his face crumpled in on itself, his shoulders collapsed, his body shook violently, and a low keening sound left his mouth. I stepped forward, but he stepped back until he fell over a low table and didn’t even try to catch himself.

“I’m sorry,” He choked as he crawled away and I continued to advance, while in his eyes, I saw only fear and self-loathing. “I’m sorry. I tried to fight it, Starsky, I really did. Starsky, I’m so sorry.” He hit the wall and couldn’t back away any further, so he simply slid down it and pulled his legs in tight against his chest and locked his arms tight around them, and made himself as small as possible.

His eyes never left my face and I squatted before him and reached out one hand. He gave out a startled yelp and turned his face away, as his body trembled with fear.

Damn. He’d thought I was going to hit him.

“Hutch,” I kept my voice low, but he didn’t move. “Hutch. Look at me,” I reached out again and let the very tips of my fingers touch his cold face, and he slowly turned his head. “There’s more,” He groaned and started to look away, but I shook my head. “There’s some things I need to know.”
“What . . . what else? You know everything now. Oh, gods, please, Starsky. Do whatever it is you’re going to do – yell, scream, or hit me, but please, just leave . . . I know it’s what you’re going to do anyway. Leave me alone,” He gulped back a sob, and I shook my head.

“There’s a question I need to ask, and then I’ll figure out what to do . . .”

“What’s to figure out? I know how you feel . . .”

“That’s funny, because I don’t,” I shook my head again. “But I need to know what you see when you look at me.”

“I see you,” He answered, startled at the subject change and tilted his head at me.

“I mean, do you see me all healed and alive, or do you see me all shot up and mostly dead?”

“I . . . it depends.” He admitted. “Most t . . .times I see you as you are . . . but then, there are t . . . t t times when I still see you in front of the car,” He closed his eyes. “You were so still and all shot up and bloody, and I was useless!”

“Oh man, Hutch,” I still couldn’t believe it, even though I’d heard basically the same thing the night before. “You’ve carried this around in you for this long!? Hutch, it’s been almost two years, and I’ve been given a clean bill ‘o health, man. But, you gotta’ tell me one more thing before I make a decision on where to go from here.”

“What?” Hutch’s question was a whisper and I inhaled deeply.

“I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me exactly how you feel about me.”

“What?” His voice was choked and his jaw dropped.

“I want you, clean and sober, to tell me how you feel about me. And I want it to be the honest truth.”

“But . . . but you said . . . I said . . . stuff . . . stuff last night.”

“And you did. But I want to hear it from you without chemicals, and I want you to look right in my eyes when you say it.”

“I . . . I don’t know if I can,” his voice was low and unsure, and I ran a hand over my face.

“If I were a woman would you hesitate to tell me?” I demanded.

“No.”