This Ae Nighte

The Lyke-Wake Dirge was set to music by Benjamin Britten as part of his Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings. The tenor of the title was his lover, Peter Pears. That was the inspiration for this story.


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This ae nighte
This ae nighte
Every nighte and alle
Fire and fleete and candlelighte
And Christe receive thy saule. (The Lyke-Wake dirge.)

*****************************

'Then what happened?'

Hutch didn't pretend to misunderstand him, though only a few moments before, they had been discussing dinner plans. This broken conversation had been carried on all day, fitted into the interstices of the duties of patrolling.

'Then we got caught.'

Hutch had found that it was easier to talk of all this while they were moving, and he could look forward, not at his partner. It wasn't that Hutch was embarrassed, or afraid that Starsky would judge him in any way. It was, he had discovered, simply that talking about it made it more real. As if it had all really happened. As if it really had been him in that bed with Rob, naked, when his parents walked in. Starsky would not deny Hutch's statement that he was sexually attracted to men. He had seen Hutch's attraction to one man at least, on more than one occasion, along with ample evidence of his satisfaction in having sex with one man at least. In talking to Starsky about this subject, there was a constant feeling of affirmation.

Hutch had been sitting too silent too long for Starsky's comfort.  Starsky asked, gently, 'Did it hurt?'

'There was a big fight. My parents called his parents. Then there was another big fight.'

'Mmm.'

'At least my Dad didn't beat me up. They just sent me to a psychiatrist.'

'Ah. How did that go?'

'He said I wasn't gay.'

'And how did he know that?'

'Well, I was pretty normal, you see. Didn't wear women's clothes. Didn't get into trouble at school. I seemed to be mostly sane, except for this confusion that I was gay, or bi if you like. I always have found women attractive as well. I never lied about that, Starsk.'

Hutch felt the warmth of Starsky's hand on his thigh. Gentle reassurance. He went on,

'He told me to forget the idea that I liked guys as well. Just to forget. I wasn't gay. I liked girls. I had just gotten confused, somehow. I was acting out my hostility toward my parents. All I had to do was pretend it hadn't been me. It had never happened.  Just rewrite history. Act straight, and I would become straight.'

'Did it work?'

'To some extent, yes. I was only 16, and I was scared. My parents read me the Bible. The psychiatrist told me all this stuff about how gay people had more psychiatric problems, committed suicide more often. He reminded me that Rob had committed suicide after his Dad beat him up and threw him out of the house.'

Starsky caught his breath, and his hands tightened on the wheel of the Torino, but he said nothing.

'The psychiatrist pointed out that I'd always have a lonely life, that gay relationships never lasted. He said if I just forgot about having sex with men, I could have real friendships with real men. Good men. And it would be pure love, not tainted with...'

'With the kind of thing we've been up to the past few months?' Starsky turned to look at him, and gave him a lewd grin.

'Yeah,' said Hutch, smiling back. 'With that kind of thing.'

'Squack! Zebra 3. This is Dispatch. Come in Zebra 3. Over.'

'Dispatch, this is Zebra 3. Over.'

'Zebra 3, there's a Squack! in progress on Crackle!Squack! Over.'

'Copy that, Dispatch. We're en route there now. Over.'

Starsky snorted. 'Well, so much for a peaceful Christmas Day. The LA criminal element just won't quit. Ever think of moving somewhere more peaceful? Like the Middle East?'

Hutch reached up and attached the Mars light, while Starsky flipped on the siren and they headed out.

'Peace on Earth,' said Starsky. 'We need some peace. And some time for romance.'

******************************************

'Someday I'm gonna be rich, and I'm gonna take you on a cruise around the world, and we are going to walk along every beach in the world just like this.'

'Sounds good. But in some places we might be arrested for it.'

'Well, okay. We might not hold hands, but we'd be together, like this, enjoying the sunset. I could enjoy the way the setting sun lights your hair.'

It was nearly dark, and far down the beach they could see that someone had lit a bonfire. A small crowd seemed to have gathered around, probably celebrating Christmas with a marshmallow roast.

'Is this real, Starsk?'

'Yeah. This is real, Blondie. This is you, here with me, walking hand in hand along the beach, like real people in love do. This is really happening.'

'Thanks, Buddy.'

'Don't mention it. Hutch?'

'Mmm?'

'What happened next? Unless you don't want to talk any more.'

'Next? Oh, I guess I convinced myself. Told myself my feelings weren't real. Turned myself into a complete heterosexual. That's all.'

'Oh. Thought that couldn't be done.'

'Well, it can. I mean, yeah, people can change their behaviour. It happens all the time, Starsk. I just went out with girls, stayed away from close relationships with guys. I turned off all my feelings, you know, the way people turn off their human feelings when they're at war. It works for a time. But not forever.'

'So, eventually you couldn't turn it off any longer?'

'Eventually I realized what I was doing and stopped. I went with guys once in a while. Stopped lying to myself. Then I met you.'

'What happened then?'

'Then I fell in love with you. You were perfect, and... and straight, and it was just more important to be friends with you than anything else. It really was Starsk. The sex I can do without, but not the friendship.'

'So you turned off your real self again because of me?'

'Well, isn't that what you're doing now?'

'What?'

Hutch stopped walking, and turned to Starsky. 'Starsk, you're denying your own feelings for women to be with me. I know it's not quite the same but...'

'It certainly is not the same. Where do you get off, Hutchinson, accusing me of... of what? Lying to you about my feelings? Don't you ever quit?'

'Starsk.'

'God, you're stubborn. Don't. Don't even try. Look, Hutch. The two cases aren't even vaguely alike. You were a kid, pushed into all that by his parents, and a total asshole of a psychiatrist who should be reported to the Psychiatric Whatever for what he did to you. I'm an adult with lots of sexual experience and no one pushed me into anything. Don't interrupt. You were lying to yourself because that's what you were brainwashed into doing. How did you feel when you had sex with girls?'

'Like, well, like I was doing the right thing. I do like it with women, I never made that up. It wasn't a struggle or anything, I didn't have to fantasize about guys, though I did sometimes.'

'How did you feel the first time we made love?'

'Oh, God. Starsk. I can't describe that. It was. It was...'

'Yeah. Exactly. That's how I felt too. It was like that with some women I loved. Like the end of the world. Or the beginning. What I feel with you is just as good as what I felt with Terry. I'm not denying myself anything. I keep telling you this isn't some charity act. When are you gonna believe me?''

'Okay, I believe you. I just can't help thinking that someday you'll realize that you've given up too much.'

'Hutch. Remember what you told me? How everyone is capable of being bisexual? Well, okay, I discovered that I'm capable of being bisexual too. But now I've chosen to be gay because I love you. I've made my own choice. It's not forced on me and it's not one I'm ever gonna regret. No matter what happens. I can deal... we can deal with whatever comes.'

'Starsky?'

'Yeah, Babe?'

'Let's go home?'

'Sure.'

They turned to retrace their steps. But Starsky suddenly stopped and looked around.

'What's wrong, Starsk?'

'Wait. Something's happening. Something's not right.'

Someone was running toward them, from the direction of the bonfire. He stumbled and fell, then struggled to his feet again. He called out.

'Help! Help! They're setting him on fire.'

The man was young. He was bloodstained and his clothes were torn. He pointed toward the bonfire.

'Hurry. They've got Josh. They're going to burn him to death.'

Starsky had already started running to the fire. They could hear screams and some sort of chanting. There was a group of young men, maybe half a dozen of them, dancing around the fire. When they were close enough to be noticed, Starsky bellowed, 'Police! Put your hands up!'

Some of the young men stopped and turned to look. The others seemed too caught up in what they were doing. Hutch stopped running, pulled out his Magnum, and pointed it at the crowd. 'Back away from the fire, with your hands up.'

Now, it seemed that the men had noticed what was going on. One of them picked up a log from the fire and actually came towards Hutch, threateningly.

'Put down the stick, kid. Back off, or I'll fire.' It appeared that the man was insane, however, for he continued to advance towards Hutch. Hutch sighted along the Magnum, but Starsky flew through the air and knocked the lunatic to the ground. Well, the other lunatic, thought Hutch, as Starsky pulled out his handcuffs.

'Starsk!' Hutch yelled. 'What the fuck are you doing? I could have shot you.'

'No, you couldn't. Look, help get that man out of the flames, will you? Wake up, Blondie and quit worrying about me.'

The rest of the gang had started to run away, but Starsky raced after them. Hutch saw that the young man who had accosted them on the beach was now pulling the burning man out of the fire. Hutch took off his jacked and helped to put out the flames.

When he had time to check, he noticed that Starsky had two of the assailants handcuffed. 'I'm going to find a phone booth and call this in.'

'Okay.'

The first young man was sobbing now. 'Josh. Josh. Hang on. You'll be okay. There's an ambulance coming soon. Hang on.'

Hutch prayed that an ambulance would get there in time.

************************************

'Okay, let's go through this again. Who were those other guys at the barbecue?'

Silence.

'That was a human being you were roasting there. Did you happen to notice?'

'Detective Hutchinson, my client is a young man of good character...'

'Counsellor, your client tried to burn another young man alive. I saw this with my own eyes. I want to know who was helping him to do this. If your client won't tell me, the other kid will, and then the other kid will get the deal. The early bird gets the worm. Or maybe in this case, we'll say the early vulture.'

'My client is exercising his right to remain silent.' 'Good for him. I'm going off to see if my partner has had any more luck. If he has, your client will be exercising in the prison yard for a long time. Remind him of that, will you.'

Hutch went to the other interview room, where Starsky was trying to intimidate the second suspect they had apprehended. There had been five young punks at the party. Starsky and Hutch had caught two.   The other three had escaped, and were still at large. Hutch wanted those guys. Now.

He knocked on the door and Starsky opened it, then joined Hutch in the hallway. They looked at each other, and didn't need to ask if the other had had any luck.

'Look,' said Starsky. 'Let's go and check up on Josh and Daniel at the hospital. Leave these brats stewing in their own juices for a while. We got them cold, and they're not gonna walk. Let's go do something useful.'

'Okay. I'd still feel better if we had all five behind bars. But maybe it will have some effect if they're wondering what we're up to.'

'That's supposing they're capable of any form of imagination, Hutch.'

***************************************

Josh was still in surgery. He was also in a coma, and the doctor who spoke to them said the prognosis was not good.

'He's been beaten as well as burned. If you hadn't stopped those punks when you did, he'd be dead now.'

'Thanks, Doctor. What about his friend, Daniel?' 'He's in pretty good shape considering. We wanted to keep him here overnight, but he checked himself out. He's waiting in here.'

She opened a door to a waiting room, where a despondent Daniel looked up hopefully.

'Mind if we speak to him?' Hutch asked.

'Not at all. He's rather emotional, so take it easy.'

'Will do.'

Daniel got to his feet. 'Detective?' he asked. He looked alarmed.

Hutch stepped forward. 'Hello, Daniel. There's not much news about your friend. Josh is still in surgery.'

'He's... he's still alive, though?'

'Yes. We have to keep hoping.'

'It's my fault.'

'Your fault?'

'I... it was Christmas. I felt romantic. I wanted to hold his hand. So we did. And then those guys came out of nowhere. They were... they weren't human. Their faces. So much hate. All we were doing was... but it was my fault.'

Starsky turned away. He could hear Hutch gently consoling Daniel, telling him it wasn't his fault at all. That was so true. But it could have been us, Starsky thought. We were walking along the same beach, holding hands, because I wanted to. If that were Hutch's burned and beaten body lying on that operating table, and if he didn't get up off it alive, first I'd go after every one of those murdering slime balls. By the time they died, they'd be begging for it. Then I'd eat my gun. No. Hutch's gun. Just to be sure. And because I'd deserve it. Yeah. I know just how Daniel feels.

Starsky couldn't listen to Hutch's soft reassuring voice. Yes, Beloved. It's easy enough to tell someone else it's not their fault. But what about when it's your fault. You've been carrying a load guilt over Rob for all these years. It's why you can't entirely let go and believe in me.   What do you think? That if we get found out, I'd drive the Torino off a cliff?

Starsky felt himself beginning to vibrate with frustration. He wanted to do something, to go and get those three missing perps, now. He wanted to change the world, to make it safer for his love, now. What was the use of being alive and tough and macho and strong if you couldn't protect the person you loved more than your own life? The walls in the waiting room began to close in.

There was a painting on one of them. Interesting. Starsky was no art expert, but this looked better than most of the art he'd seen on hospital walls. He wasn't sure it was a painting, actually. Maybe it was a tapestry? No, the surface looked too shiny. But it was also too textured for a painting, he thought. How much paint had the artist used anyway? It looked to be about an inch thick.

And what exactly was it a painting of? The scene shifted. The figures moved. The light dimmed and...

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He was standing on a river bank, under the light of the Moon. Behind him was dark forest, thick with fog. Before him was a scene of pure delight. A group of young, beautiful women were bathing in the river, naked. He gasped and one of them, the most beautiful of all, looked up and saw him.

She smiled, but it was not a smile of invitation. It was a Warrior's smile.

She opened her perfect lips and whistled. The dogs who had been lolling about on the bank, or playing in the river water perked up their ears. She pointed at Starsky and they leapt to their feet and headed for him.

Starsky opened his mouth to declare that he had not intended any insult, and was only there by accident. But no sound issued from his mouth, save a bleat. He lifted his head and reared back on his hind legs, then turned and ran. Ran on four legs, not two.

He could hear the baying of the swift hounds, giving chase. He could hear the pounding of the swift horses that carried the Huntress and her Companions. He could hear the cries of the Huntress, and the calls of the Horns of Efland. The moon rose higher in the sky. He could see it through a break in the canopy of trees overhead. Would its light save him, or condemn him?

The chase was drawing nearer. He dared to look behind, and wished he hadn't. There were two groups of Hunters, now. On his left, ran the white Hunting Hounds of Artemis. She and her Companions rode tall white steeds. When she caught his eye, she raised her pearly bow, and let loose an arrow. It lodged in his left shoulder, but he kept on.

To his right, new Hunters had joined the chase. In the lead was a man, riding a black horse, and his hounds were black as well. He carried no weapon.

Ahead of him, Starsky could see a gap in the trees. With a great leap, he cleared the last of the forest and ran out into a clearing. A group of men awaited him. They wore white shrouds, and hoods that hid their faces. They carried lit torches, and behind them was a great pyre. Around the pyre were three wooden crosses. Upon the pyre was a man, tied up as if ready for sacrifice.   Starsky stood still as the white robed men surrounded him. It seemed his flight to freedom was over.

Artemis called out, 'What do you here? You have interrupted my Hunt. The stag is my prey.' The man spoke up. 'I am Herne, and I hunt the souls of the dead. This stag is not a stag but one of my prey. His soul is mine.'

The leader of the Circle came forward. 'None of you have any jurisdiction here. We are the Circle and are defending our right. This Beast is evil. He has broken the laws of God and of Nature.'

Starsky turned to Herne, and found that he could speak again. 'I am not one of the souls of the dead.' Then he turned to Artemis. 'I am not a stag. I came upon you by accident, and you gave me my present form.'

He decided not to answer the Circle, but to ignore them.

Artemis only smiled, but Herne answered him. 'You have travelled the paths of the dead, and have escaped, but you are always my prey, if I choose to give chase. You should not come into my purview.'

Starsky looked into Herne's eyes. They were familiar. A cool, silvery blue.

'Hutch,' he said.

'You are mistaken. I am the God Herne.'

'Hutch, I name you.   My soul already belongs to you.   You have no need to chase me.'

'I am the God Herne. I have seen you walk the paths of the dead and escape.'

'Hutch. Look into my eyes.'

The cool, silvery blue eyes gazed into his own, then looked up at the Circle around the pyre. Starsky leapt onto the pyre and pushed the bound man onto the ground.

'Hutch,' he said. 'We know each other. We have known each other from the beginning. We have always been willing to burn. We have always been ready to die for each other. Join me in the fire.'

Hutch got down off his horse and walked towards the fire. His face was still and cold and hard but his eyes were burning with the intensity that they only revealed during the chase, or while they were making love.

'Starsky?'

'Yes. Join me in the fire. We live or die together.'

Hutch turned to face the Circle.

'Set this man free. You will have your sacrifice. We will burn in his stead.'

Hutch climbed onto the pyre beside Starsky. The leader of the Circle lit the kindling, and the flames rose to cover them. There was no pain, with Hutch beside him. Perhaps the pain was translated into pleasure. Hutch's blue eyes held him. Hutch's hands came up to frame his face and brush away the ashes. The fire rose and they burned, burned, down, down to the bone.

When they were both only skeletons, Starsky said, 'Get on my back.'  Hutch obeyed. Starsky leapt off the pyre and carried Hutch away, back to the river. The cool water enclosed them both....

'Starsky?'

'It feels cool now.   Did they try to follow?'

'Starsk?'

'Hutch! Is the fire out?'

'Yeah. It's out. Starsk? Are you okay? Put your head down between your knees. I'll call the doctor.   Hang in there, baby.'

Starsky looked around. He was sitting on the floor. Hutch and Daniel were looking at him with identical expressions of concern. He laughed.

'I'm okay. Don't need a doctor.'

'Don't be stupid. You almost passed out.'

'No. I'm fine. I'll tell you what happened later. How's Josh? Any word?'

'I don't know. I've been worried about you.'

'Stop worrying about me. I told you. Go ask about Josh. I need to know.'

'Okay. But you sit there, nice and quiet. I'll find out about Josh. Stay put. Keep an eye on him, Dan.'

Starsky waited until Hutch had left the room, then got up and walked back over to the painting. The scene had changed again. There, above the dark woodland glade, the moon had risen. It was surrounded by three stars.

'Starsky! Can't you ever do what you're told?' Hutch looked pale and truly worried about him. Starsky smiled at him, gently.

'I keep telling you I'm fine now. Probably just didn't have enough to eat today. What did you learn?'

'Josh just woke up. Believe it or not, they thought he was going to die at one point, then he recovered.'

'Ah. Just like me.'

Daniel gasped and ran out of the room. Hutch watched him leave, then smiled, reminiscently.

'Josh probably won't be in any state to answer questions for a while. Let's go back to the station and scare those kids a little, though.'

'What? Make them think Josh gave us the other names?'

'Yeah.'

'Good idea. But try mentioning some group called the Circle, okay? Might be something significant.'

****************************************

'Well. That was some Christmas Day.'

'Pretty typical for us, actually.'

'Those kids really caved when we mentioned the Circle, and that Josh could ID the other assailants.'

'Yeah. This Circle business looks like an interesting avenue of inquiry.'

'Tomorrow, Starsk. For now, all I want to inquire about is what happened to you in the hospital. You were standing there staring at that painting for the longest time. Then you just sat on the floor.'

'Look, Blondie. Let's just go to bed, okay?'

'No. It's not okay. And where did you hear about this Circle?'

'In a dream.'

'A dream? One of your dreams, Starsk?'

'I told you. I'm different ever since I died.'

'I noticed. And I wish you wouldn't...'

'Yes. I know, Hutch. But it's what happened. And you like some of those differences, don't you?'

'Of course, but...'

'Then just accept it. All of it. Face it, Hutch. I'm weird now.'

'Now? You've always been weird, Starsk.'

'So now I'm weirder. Come here. Let me show you. Let's light some candles and incense, and try out that wine, again. That worked so well last night.'

*** The End ***

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