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crack_van2005-09-20 10:29 am
moondroplette.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2005-09-20 10:29 am
Entry tags:
Night Vision by Thayln (NC-17)
Fandom: STARSKY & HUTCH
Pairing: Starsky/Hutch
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: Unknown
Why this must be read:
Set half a year after-SR, Hutch still hasn't gotten over what happened to his partner, and it's reflecting in everything he does. When he wraps up a particular painful case, Starsky finally decides action must be taken.
Some stories are so good you don't pay attention to the words. Others are so good you can't help but notice the words, so deliberate and precise they feel. This one falls into the latter category, and has the reader swept up in the poetry of the language just as much as the story it's communicating.
Excerpt:
"She had hair like yours."
The world took a sudden right turn and Hutch fell, ending up on his knees beside her again. Her dark curls clung to him, twining themselves around his hands as he tried to breathe life back into her. He remembered carefully detangling himself from the fine strands, so as not to hurt her more, but she was already dead. He remembered the sweet little girl smell of her. He remembered the taste of her blood.
He looked up then and Starsky shivered at the look in his eyes. "There was so much blood, Starsk."
It was everywhere; in their hair, soaking their clothes, bubbling on Starsky's lips. Hutch could taste it as he breathed for his partner's life.
"I never gave up, Starsk. I swear. I never gave up, but it didn't matter. She died anyway. You died anyway, and there wasn't anything I could do about any of it. I can't do anything about it, now either. I can't protect you, hell, I can't protect anyone, but I can't stop trying and I'm tired, Starsk. I'm so tired of the taste of blood." Hutch trailed off and blinked at the Styrofoam cup of coffee that suddenly hovered in front of him. He reached for it and looked bewilderedly up at his partner.
"Here. Taste this, instead," Starsky wearily wiped at his eyes and pulled a chair forward a bit. He sat and started to look for a way to undo the bandage, moving the untouched coffee from Hutch's right hand to his left. "Drink some coffee, Hutch."
He did. It was strong and hot and felt good on his throat. He sipped at it some more and let Starsky futz with his arm.
"Dobey’s not gonna let you back on the streets till you talk to somebody."
"What!" The coffee sloshed as Hutch started to come up off the bed, "What gives him the right to...."
"I agreed with him, Hutch." Hutch came to a shuddering stop and stared, shocked by his partner. He sat back down while Starsky shook his head and bent over the row of stitches again, "You don't see it, do you?"
"What?" Hutch looked over to see what was wrong with his arm and found himself pinned instead by Starsky's eyes. They were dark and intent, as serious as he ever got.
"I was dead for what, three minutes?" Hutch shuddered and tried to look away, couldn't do it. "You’ve been dead for six months."
Night Vision
Pairing: Starsky/Hutch
Author on LJ: Unknown
Author Website: Unknown
Why this must be read:
Set half a year after-SR, Hutch still hasn't gotten over what happened to his partner, and it's reflecting in everything he does. When he wraps up a particular painful case, Starsky finally decides action must be taken.
Some stories are so good you don't pay attention to the words. Others are so good you can't help but notice the words, so deliberate and precise they feel. This one falls into the latter category, and has the reader swept up in the poetry of the language just as much as the story it's communicating.
Excerpt:
"She had hair like yours."
The world took a sudden right turn and Hutch fell, ending up on his knees beside her again. Her dark curls clung to him, twining themselves around his hands as he tried to breathe life back into her. He remembered carefully detangling himself from the fine strands, so as not to hurt her more, but she was already dead. He remembered the sweet little girl smell of her. He remembered the taste of her blood.
He looked up then and Starsky shivered at the look in his eyes. "There was so much blood, Starsk."
It was everywhere; in their hair, soaking their clothes, bubbling on Starsky's lips. Hutch could taste it as he breathed for his partner's life.
"I never gave up, Starsk. I swear. I never gave up, but it didn't matter. She died anyway. You died anyway, and there wasn't anything I could do about any of it. I can't do anything about it, now either. I can't protect you, hell, I can't protect anyone, but I can't stop trying and I'm tired, Starsk. I'm so tired of the taste of blood." Hutch trailed off and blinked at the Styrofoam cup of coffee that suddenly hovered in front of him. He reached for it and looked bewilderedly up at his partner.
"Here. Taste this, instead," Starsky wearily wiped at his eyes and pulled a chair forward a bit. He sat and started to look for a way to undo the bandage, moving the untouched coffee from Hutch's right hand to his left. "Drink some coffee, Hutch."
He did. It was strong and hot and felt good on his throat. He sipped at it some more and let Starsky futz with his arm.
"Dobey’s not gonna let you back on the streets till you talk to somebody."
"What!" The coffee sloshed as Hutch started to come up off the bed, "What gives him the right to...."
"I agreed with him, Hutch." Hutch came to a shuddering stop and stared, shocked by his partner. He sat back down while Starsky shook his head and bent over the row of stitches again, "You don't see it, do you?"
"What?" Hutch looked over to see what was wrong with his arm and found himself pinned instead by Starsky's eyes. They were dark and intent, as serious as he ever got.
"I was dead for what, three minutes?" Hutch shuddered and tried to look away, couldn't do it. "You’ve been dead for six months."
Night Vision