{"id":436,"date":"2017-12-21T03:49:06","date_gmt":"2017-12-21T03:49:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/?p=436"},"modified":"2017-12-21T14:11:58","modified_gmt":"2017-12-21T14:11:58","slug":"december-21st-hutch-versus-the-rat-king-by-garriedeb","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/?p=436","title":{"rendered":"December 21st- Hutch Versus the Rat King by Garrideb"},"content":{"rendered":"

Note from Elf Management:<\/strong><\/span> It must be Christmas kismet. We received two stories with the Nutcracker ballet subject within two days of each other and were struck with how different the stories were despite the starting theme. The authors, who had not discussed their stories beforehand, agreed it would be fun to have them posted together.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Starsky didn\u2019t bother knocking. He let himself into Hutch\u2019s apartment quietly, hoping his partner was sleeping and not wanting to disturb his much needed rest. This whole case with Artie Solkin had done a real number on Hutch.<\/p>\n

Starsky frowned, remembering how he\u2019d found Hutch sitting in that dark rattrap hotel room, their teenaged murder suspect lying on the bed crying out in fear to Artie. Only Artie wasn\u2019t there, so Hutch had played the part. His voice had been so weary that Starsky had barely recognized it.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

It was funny. Starsky had been afraid he was going have to pull his partner off the creep that had beaten Abby. Instead, he\u2019d found Hutch comforting the kid. Okay, so it was only funny in a sick sort of way. The same way that the worst of the worst were sometimes the most hurt of the hurt, and it was hard to find the line between pity and disgust.<\/p>\n

Didn\u2019t help that Hutch was exactly the type to try to feel out those lines between victim and victimizer, cause and effect, looking for some semblance of sense that Starsky, quite frankly, didn\u2019t believe existed.<\/p>\n

The way he saw it, you could examine each factor in a perp\u2019s life, rearrange them and play out the hypotheticals like chords on a guitar, looking for a pattern you could recognize. You wouldn\u2019t get a pattern; you\u2019d just get random noise and bloody fingers.<\/p>\n

So it was no shock that his partner had been sullen and testy as they\u2019d filled out the post-collar paperwork. But he\u2019d rallied the next day in time to pick Abby up from the hospital. Taking care of Abby had been the best medicine for Hutch; he\u2019d been pulled out of his own head and been given plenty of small tasks to fill his time.<\/p>\n

And then Abby had left. Starsky couldn\u2019t blame her. If he hadn\u2019t had Hutch in his life, Starsky knew that one or another of the traumas he\u2019d weathered would have driven him back to his family in New York. Abby and Hutch had been close, but she needed to feel the kind of safety that only family could provide.<\/p>\n

But after she\u2019d left, Hutch had crashed. Down came the forced optimism like a pile of bricks with no mortar, scouring away Hutch\u2019s patience in the process. The creature left over was mean and bitterly sad.<\/p>\n

Starsky had spent so much of the next few days smoothing over each feather Hutch ruffled at the station that he had missed the signs that Hutch\u2019s hand was getting worse. It was only when he had swerved the Torino and Hutch had instinctively braced himself, then let loose a string of pained cuss words, that Starsky had really looked.<\/p>\n

The bandage wrapping his hand had been dirty. The skin of his wrist had looked red and puffy where it disappeared under the dressing. In contrast, Hutch\u2019s face had been pale and clammy. And angry. Very, very angry.<\/p>\n

It was a wonder Starsky hadn\u2019t gotten his own hand bitten off when he\u2019d felt Hutch\u2019s forehead. \u201cYou\u2019ve got a fever,\u201d he\u2019d announced, and turned the Torino yet again, this time pointing it towards the hospital.<\/p>\n

Hutch hadn\u2019t argued. He\u2019d just stared out the window, features set in a grimace.<\/p>\n

At the ER they\u2019d cleaned his burn and prescribed antibiotics. Starsky had finally left Hutch tucked up in bed, pills and water on the nightstand, and gone back to the station. It had been like sailing on a calm sea after days of choppy waters. The other detectives in Homicide had kept smiling at Starsky. One had even said, flat out, \u201cIsn\u2019t it nice to get a break from that storm cloud of yours?\u201d And Starsky had smiled back, because yes, yes it had been.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd yet here I am,\u201d Starsky whispered to the potted plant near the door. \u201cI coulda gone home after I clocked out, but no, I come here instead because I care so damn much for your owner. Hey, did I buy you for Hutch?\u201d He peered more closely at the plant, some kind of leafy deal with vines climbing up the edge of a poster as if it was making a valiant effort to reclaim the apartment for Nature. \u201cI\u2019d better not come here one day and find your vines wrapped around my partner,\u201d he warned softly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat you, Starsk?\u201d came a miserable voice from the dark corner of the apartment that housed the bed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Starsky replied, feeling guilty. He hadn\u2019t meant to wake Hutch. The guilt evaporated a moment later when he heard retching.<\/p>\n

He quickly turned on a lamp in the living room, which cast enough light to lead him to Hutch, who was propped up on one elbow in bed, leaning over the side. Starsky came around to that side, careful to avoid the patch of wetness on the floor. It looked like it was just stomach acid and water, with the exception of two half-digested pills glinting in the low light.<\/p>\n

He kneeled down so he could see Hutch\u2019s face. \u201cBabe, did you just throw up your antibiotics?\u201d<\/p>\n

If anything, Hutch looked worse than he had in the ER. Spots of color high on his cheeks stood out against the rest of his sweaty, blanched face. \u201cNo, those were ibuprofen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky smoothed back the strands of hair plastered to Hutch\u2019s forehead, then let his hand linger there, cool against Hutch’s heated skin. Hutch closed his eyes and sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou took ibuprofen on an empty stomach?\u201d Starsky chided gently. Although Starsky never had an issue taking ibuprofen with just water, he knew Hutch got nauseated when he tried.<\/p>\n

Starsky wasn\u2019t expecting an answer; he figured the trek to the fridge had just seemed like too much effort. He\u2019d certainly had days where one inch further than necessary felt like a mile, so he understood.<\/p>\n

But Hutch frowned and answered, \u201cDidn\u2019t want to open it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t want to open\u2026 the refrigerator?\u201d Starsky asked, confused.<\/p>\n

Hutch nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s a little odd,\u201d Starsky observed. \u201cWere you thinking it would be too cold, or too bright?\u201d Starsky supposed that with his fever, Hutch might be having sensory issues.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Hutch shifted so he could lie back down on his pillow. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to see the rat again.\u201d He shivered and opened his eyes to look blearily at Starsky. \u201cI hate the rat king.\u201d<\/p>\n

Looking into Hutch\u2019s bright blue eyes, it occurred to Starsky that his partner wasn\u2019t firing on all cylinders. \u201cThe rat\u2026 king?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch nodded again, as if he hadn\u2019t just given the dead rodent that had been in his fridge a royal title. Well, it could be the rat high priestess for all it mattered now. \u201cHutch, the rat\u2019s long gone. I bagged it and sent it to evidence that night you called me. That was\u2026\u201c he counted out a few days on his fingers and then decided to just estimate, \u201cabout a week ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight,\u201d Hutch agreed, but he still looked a little lost.<\/p>\n

Starsky wondered how much he was actually understanding. \u201cHutch, what did I just tell you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s eyes searched Starsky\u2019s face. Then he smiled. \u201cYou defeated the Rat King.\u201d He reached up and cupped the back of Starsky\u2019s neck with his good hand. \u201cMy Nutcracker Prince.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Starsky poured a glass of milk from the still rat-free fridge, and brought it to Hutch with two fresh ibuprofen. In the time it took Starsky to clean up the vomit, Hutch drifted off. So Starsky helped himself to a beer and sat heavily on the couch.<\/p>\n

He knew that people said the craziest stuff when feverish. But thoughts \u2014 even delirious ones \u2014 had to come from somewhere. Why had Hutch cast Starsky as some character from a Christmas ballet?<\/p>\n

Hutch liked ballet \u2014 or pretended to; Starsky wasn\u2019t convinced anyone actually liked ballet \u2014 but he hated Christmas. No, that wasn\u2019t entirely true; he hated the popular trappings of Christmas. Maybe Christmas was okay by Hutch if it came wrapped in the hoity-toity package of tutus and orchestral music.<\/p>\n

Starsky frowned and picked at the damp label of his beer. He didn\u2019t actually know much about The Nutcracker<\/em>. First of all, it was ballet-related, so it was for girls. Secondly, it was a Christmas story, and he was Jewish. Of course, that hadn\u2019t stopped him from enjoying the secular sentiments of the holiday, such as goodwill and cheer and more cookies than you could shake a stick at.<\/p>\n

But that brought him to his third strike: The Nutcracker<\/em> just seemed pointless. If he remembered correctly, most of the story was about candy coming to life and dancing. Candy was great, but what was the point if you couldn\u2019t eat it? And dancing was great, but only if you got to join in. Just sitting there, watching candy dance? Terrible. The worst of all worlds.<\/p>\n

Made sense that Hutch liked it, though. No empty calories and no tripping over his own two feet.<\/p>\n

Where the Nutcracker Prince and Rat King fit into the story, Starsky had no idea. He glanced at the phone, wondering if Huggy was home or at the Pits. Huggy would know the story of The Nutcracker<\/em>, he was sure. And maybe if Huggy told it to him, he could figure out a few of the twists and turns in Hutch\u2019s mind.<\/p>\n

He glanced back at the dark bedroom, only partially blocked from the rest of the apartment by bookcases. He knew his voice wouldn\u2019t disturb Hutch\u2019s rest. If anything, Hutch slept very well to the background drone of his partner\u2019s voice. Probably made him feel safe, Starsky thought proudly.<\/p>\n

He lucked out. Huggy was at home, rare as that was. \u201cHey Hug, you actually managed to tear yourself away from work?\u201d Lately, Starsky and Hutch made sure to chat with Huggy a moment and ask how business was going before pumping him for intel. This was due to an argument a few months back where Huggy had accused them of being rude and self-involved. Then Huggy\u2019d turned to Hutch and said, \u201cAren\u2019t people from Minnesota supposed to be polite?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch had laughed it off at the time, but the barb had obviously found its mark, because over the next few days Hutch had brought it up over and over. First Hutch\u2019d been mad at Huggy, then at Starsky, then at himself. Then he\u2019d made Starsky promise that they\u2019d show more interest in Huggy when going to him for help.<\/p>\n

This wasn\u2019t the usual info they needed from him, but Starsky supposed the same principle applied.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, and I deserve every blessed minute away from that hellhole!\u201d Huggy replied. \u201cHave I told you about my newest waitress? I found out she was selling these homemade health powder supplements on the clock! To my customers!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou fire her?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI certainly intended to, but when I called her out she told me she\u2019d split her profits. Turns out she\u2019s really rakin\u2019 it in with this shit.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky laughed. \u201cSo what\u2019s the problem?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy customers! I guess some of them thought her sales pitch was just a cover, and believed they were buying high-quality weed or something. Now they want refunds.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky was still chuckling when Huggy heaved a final sigh and asked, \u201cAnd what\u2019s on your mind?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHonestly it\u2019s nothing much. I was wondering what you could tell me about The Nutcracker<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Nutcracker?\u201d Huggy whistled, long and low. \u201cHe\u2019s one bad dude.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky frowned. He\u2019d thought the Nutcracker was the hero.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe mostly does kneecappings, but his signature number focuses on anatomy slightly higher, hence his name. I thought he was still in New Jersey, though. Did you need me to check his whereabouts? If Joey Walnuts has landed on our fair shores, I can find him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJoey Walnuts?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOne of the Nutcracker\u2019s aliases. He has several. Joey the Hammer, The Plum Buster\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cHuggy,\u201d Starsky interrupted. \u201cI\u2019m asking about the ballet!\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a beat of skeptical silence. \u201cThe ballet?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah! I just wanna know about the Christmas story, not\u2026 not\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Gonad Goon?\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky shivered. \u201cYeah. But maybe make sure he\u2019s not in town anyway…?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure thing, my man. Now, what\u2019s this about the ballet? I take it Blondie is involved, somehow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow\u2019d you know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s no secret he likes ballet. And I forget when this was, but I remember he was at a booth, and I heard him humming when I brought him beer. It was Waltz of the Flowers, from The Nutcracker<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky was impressed. \u201cAnd how did you know that<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

Huggy laughed, pleased. \u201cI have friends in high places, I have friends in low places. I have friends in loud, quiet, straight, and kinky places. I am as at home in the front row of a seedy burlesque as I am in a private box at the Bay City Opera House.\u201d Huggy dropped the sing-song quality to his voice and concluded, \u201cWhich is where I last saw The Nutcracker<\/em> performed. And don\u2019t ask me who my benefactress was, \u2018cause I ain\u2019t sharing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAww, Huggy,\u201d Starsky whined. \u201cI don\u2019t want tickets for me or for Blondie. I just wanna know the plot. Hutch was running a fever and making noise about a Rat King, and\u2026\u201d he trailed off, not sure if he should mention the Nutcracker Prince comment. \u201cAnd I just wanna know what\u2019s going on in that dumb head of his.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell sure. It\u2019s not a bad story. This chick and her siblings are opening presents at a real glitzy Christmas party. Her Godfather is this creepy toymaker, a total mad scientist type. He\u2019s got all these clockwork toys that move and dance, but she loves this simple Nutcracker doll, so he gives it to her. But her little brother is rough with it and breaks its mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky winced, remembering the last time he\u2019d been punched in the jaw and lost a tooth.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo this chick uses her hanky to hold the Nutcracker\u2019s mouth together until her Godfather can fix him. She falls asleep under the Christmas tree, and next thing she knows she\u2019s trippin\u2019. The tree starts growing, or she\u2019s shrinking, and then an army of rats attack, led by the Rat King. You know, I saw one version where the Rat King had seven heads. Crazy creepy, and I have no idea how that dude managed to leap around with such a huge mask.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, what happens next?\u201d Starsky asked, impatient.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Nutcracker doll comes to life and jumps in to defend the chick. But the Rat King gets the upper hand and is about to stab the Nutcracker, so she takes off her shoe and nails the rat in the head with it to distract him, and the Nutcracker wins the fight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo the Nutcracker is<\/em> the hero.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCourse he is! And he\u2019s a prince, too, which he tells the chick, and then he whisks her away to his magic kingdom as reward for savin\u2019 his bacon.\u201d Huggy fell silent.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that the end?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, it\u2019s the intermission. A good time to hit the john, especially if you\u2019ve had unlimited French champagne on the house like I had that night.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRight. So the second half must be all the dancing candy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got it. Real psychedelic shit. Let\u2019s see\u2026 there\u2019s the Waltz of the Flowers, the Sugar Plum Fairy, chocolate, coffee, tea, candy canes, bonbons\u2026 oh, and mirlitons.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the hell are mirlitons?\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a pause. Then Huggy admitted, without a drop of embarrassment, \u201cI have no idea.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky laughed. \u201cIt figures, don\u2019t it, that Hutch was humming Waltz of the Flowers. All those food and drink options, and he picks the plants.\u201d<\/p>\n

Huggy laughed too. \u201cThat\u2019s our Hutch. And that\u2019s pretty much it. The Prince takes the lady back home, and she wakes up under the Christmas tree, everything back to normal.\u201d There was another pause and then Huggy asked, \u201cDoes any of that help put Hutch\u2019s ramblings in context?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Honestly it left Starsky with more questions than ever, but at least he knew the story now, and wouldn\u2019t have to ask Hutch, who would either clam up or tell it in excruciating detail, probably with a lot of boring ballet terms thrown in just to be pretentious. \u201cYou\u2019re a lifesaver, Hug. As always, I owe ya.\u201d<\/p>\n

After he hung up he reclined on the couch, toeing off his shoes and resting his head on a throw pillow.<\/p>\n

A rat in the fridge triggered a fever dream about a Rat King from a popular ballet. Coincidence? Probably. But Hutch had never mentioned The Nutcracker <\/em>before that Starsky could recall, and that was through all the Christmases they had shared, not to mention the countless arguments Starsky instigated by trying to goad Hutch into showing a little seasonal spirit. So, was that because Hutch barely cared about the ballet, or because he held it close to his chest?<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s eyes had been so bright and his smile so gentle when he\u2019d called Starsky his Nutcracker Prince.<\/p>\n

Somehow, Starsky suspected that Hutch held it close to his chest.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

He must have drifted off, because suddenly Starsky heard the toilet flush. He sat up and stretched, listening with approval to the sounds of Hutch filling and drinking a glass of tap water. Then Hutch wandered into the living room, looking disheveled but much less ill.<\/p>\n

\u201cWant anything to eat?\u201d Starsky asked.<\/p>\n

Hutch shook his head and settled onto the other side of the couch, curling against the arm and pulling a small folded blanket out from under the pillow. Soon he was wrapped up as cozy as a burrito. He blinked a few times at Starsky. \u201cDid I throw up on you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah,\u201d Starsky replied. \u201cI did clean up after you though, so don\u2019t think I won\u2019t collect on that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch smiled slightly, but it faded. He kept looking Starsky in the eye as he said, \u201cI\u2019ve been an asshole to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky shrugged. \u201cYou\u2019ve been sick. And\u2026\u201d he didn\u2019t know if this was a good time to go digging, but what the hell. \u201cI know your head hasn\u2019t been filled with nice thoughts lately.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch snorted and glanced down, twisting the hem of the blanket in his fingers.<\/p>\n

\u201cHutch,\u201d Starsky began slowly, searching for some opening question that wouldn\u2019t raise alarm bells. \u201cAre you afraid of rats?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s head snapped up. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you left me to deal with the one in your fridge. And you were muttering \u2018bout it earlier when your fever was worse. Just wondering. You know, in Brooklyn, rats were as common as seagulls. I always thought they were kinda cute.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was the right thing to say. Hutch\u2019s hackles went down and he raised an eyebrow. \u201cCute? You need your eyes checked. They\u2019re disease-filled monsters. I\u2019m not afraid of them, I just hate them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo Artie guessed pretty good when he put one in your fridge.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch grimaced. His hand gripping the hem tightened until his knuckles were white. Starsky decided the best course of action was to give him some space, so he got up to grab some water for himself, pouring from the kitchen sink. When he sat back down, he did so in the chair near the couch. He sipped his water and waited.<\/p>\n

Hutch finally started talking. \u201cDo you know of a\u2026 a natural phenomenon called a rat king? It\u2019s when several rats \u2014 or mice, sometimes \u2014 get their tails all tangled up in- in hair or string, or stuck together with sap, and they just have to live like that. Or, well. Not live. My dad saw a specimen in a museum in the Netherlands. I think there were six rats fused together at the tail, and biologists were able to tell from the bodies that they\u2019d survived quite a while like that. It really stuck in my memory when he told me. The idea of being trapped like that horrified me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky knew that there was more coming, so he just nodded when Hutch glanced at him. Sure enough, after a few moments Hutch said, \u201cI was thinking about Artie and his boys. Tommy was sick to start with, but most of them–the boys, like Billy–are just\u2026 innocent. And then Artie convinces them he can give them the best life they\u2019re going to get. And–and they\u2019re stuck together. They don\u2019t even see what a horrible thing they\u2019ve become part of. To them, they\u2019re just\u2026 surviving.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch swallowed audibly. His voice had become more and more strained as he spoke, as if he could see this monstrous rat king before him. Or maybe he was just picturing Artie, with his defensive hunched-up posture and oily slicked-back hair.<\/p>\n

Quietly, Starsky said, \u201cI know how much you hate Artie Solkin.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, you don\u2019t.\u201d Hutch\u2019s voice wasn\u2019t angry; he was just stating a fact.<\/p>\n

Starsky felt stung all the same. \u201cThen tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch stared down at his hands, his mouth a hard line.<\/p>\n

“Look, babe, I know you said those rat king things scared you. But we aren’t rats, and being tangled together ain’t always so bad. You and me are as tangled together as two people can get, and that’s a good thing.”<\/p>\n

\u201cWe still have our private lives,\u201d Hutch protested.<\/p>\n

\u201cPrivate thoughts, maybe. Private lives? No. And if that bothers you, you\u2019re gonna have to be the one to cut us apart. Because I like us the way we are.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you\u2019d change your mind, if you knew my thoughts.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky scoffed. \u201cYeah, right.\u201d His glass was empty, so he got to his feet and went to the kitchen. \u201cI\u2019m gonna make us some toast. Think you can keep it down?\u201d He didn\u2019t hear an answer but he figured Hutch had nodded.<\/p>\n

Once the toast was cooking, Starsky peeled and sliced a banana, putting half on each of the two waiting plates. Then he turned to peruse the fridge for Hutch\u2019s jelly and jam selection. Again, the lack of a dead rat felt notable. He wondered how long Hutch would subconsciously tense up whenever he opened the fridge.<\/p>\n

Hutch had the strangest jams. Boysenberry, lingonberry\u2026 stuff that Starsky had never had before meeting him. He\u2019d been excited to try them at first, but he\u2019d quickly realized that none of them were as sweet or as tasty as grape jelly. Some of them were downright bitter.<\/p>\n

When he saw the plum preserves he thought of the Sugar Plum Fairy and picked it, right as the toast popped up. He spread the preserves and carried the plates to the couch. Hutch didn\u2019t complain about how much jam he\u2019d used as he bit into the toast, a sure sign he wasn\u2019t feeling well.<\/p>\n

\u201cRat kings aren\u2019t just tangled-up rats. It\u2019s also the villain in The Nutcracker<\/em>,\u201d Starsky said carefully, trying to sound conversational. Judging by the way Hutch coughed around his toast and stared at Starsky, he\u2019d failed.<\/p>\n

\u201cJesus,\u201d Hutch muttered. \u201cAre you psychic? I thought you said we had private thoughts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI said we had private thoughts maybe<\/em>. You\u2019re the one who brought up The Nutcracker<\/em> when your fever spiked. So what\u2019s your deal with The Nutcracker<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch flushed and looked away. \u201cIt\u2019s a ballet I saw as a kid. I like the music. That\u2019s it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, there\u2019s more to it than that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh?\u201d Hutch was getting angry. \u201cThen you tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you like it a lot, and not just the music. But you don\u2019t want anyone to know. And if that really is the entire story, it\u2019s a little unusual, \u2018cause you sure ain\u2019t shy about exposing me to the rest of your weird interests.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch glared. \u201cWell, I embarrassed my parents by loving The Nutcracker<\/em> as a kid, so it\u2019s not really that strange that I don\u2019t bring it up. Old habits and all that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky felt a pang of sadness, but he knew from experience that Hutch didn\u2019t want sympathy. \u201cIn this rat king, I\u2019m the one who embarrasses you,\u201d he reminded Hutch. \u201cSo tell me about seeing The Nutcracker<\/em>. I like to know about the things you love.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mollified, Hutch finished his toast and started picking at the banana. \u201cMy parents took me and my sister to a production when I was seven. My mother had impressed upon me how important it would be to sit still and not fidget, so I thought it was going to be like one of the stuffy plays they dragged me to. But this was active, with incredible costumes and–and magical sets. The special effects they used when the Christmas tree grows giant\u2026 I was spellbound.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky smiled at the image of his tough partner as a seven year old, the lights of the stage reflected in his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the Rat King was terrifying, when he attacked Clara, but the Nutcracker saved her, and then she saved the Nutcracker. I thought, in a way, she was braver than the Nutcracker, because he<\/em> had a sword and she<\/em> just used her shoe. I thought she was incredible. She was kind, and protective, and she got to visit a different world because of her kindness and bravery.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo that night I asked for a nutcracker for Christmas.\u201d Hutch laughed. \u201cMy poor parents. They\u2019d brought a ten year old girl and a seven year old boy to a ballet, and it was the boy who loved it while the girl was bored. They told me no, that dolls weren\u2019t for boys. And I thought that was so unfair. The Nutcracker is a toy soldier, for one thing, but even if he wasn\u2019t\u2026 I just wanted something to remind me of that magical night.\u201d<\/p>\n

And to remind you that kindness and bravery unlock better worlds<\/em>, Starsky thought. With a prickly sense of shame he remembered that he himself had pegged The Nutcracker <\/em>as \u201cfor girls\u201d when it obviously wasn\u2019t that simple.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy grandfather came over for dinner soon after and I asked him for a nutcracker, too. My parents overheard and got mad again, because now I\u2019d embarrassed them in front of family. My father said I was disobeying him by bringing up a topic he\u2019d closed, and sent me up to my room. I was so angry I was crying. It was the first time I seriously wanted to run away. I even packed a bag and pulled out all my warmest winter gear before I gave up.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe funniest part of it all is that my grandfather didn\u2019t give a rat\u2019s ass. He gave me a parent-approved boy-appropriate gift on Christmas Eve at my parents\u2019 house, but the next day at his farm he gave me a nutcracker. I had to keep it there so neither of us got in trouble. Just as well. When I did run away later on it was usually to his farm. One less thing to pack.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky smiled at the half-hearted joke, but he felt, instinctively, that the comment contained a bread crumb clue that lead to something larger. \u201cWhen you ran away, it was usually<\/em> to the farm?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch flushed again and Starsky knew he was on the right track. \u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut sometimes to other places?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure, when I was a teenager. I felt so stifled I\u2019d disappear after just about any big fight. Sometimes I\u2019d stay with Jack Mitchell, but sometimes I\u2019d hop a bus or train to the Twin Cities and just\u2026 find guys to stay with for a few days.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky felt his eyebrows climb to his hairline. \u201cFind strangers to stay with?\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch swallowed. \u201cYeah. Not too hard if you knew what bars to ask at.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ah, babe<\/em>\u2026 Starsky felt his heart ache. The weight of what Hutch had just admitted about his sexual experience felt dwarfed by the bleak picture it painted of his teenage years. \u201cYou ever run into trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I was lucky.\u201d A silence heavy with memories blanketed the room. Then Hutch said, \u201cI often dreamed of running away to California in high school. I\u2019d heard that LA was nothing like the Midwest. That you didn\u2019t have to hide who or what you liked, that you could be anything out here. So many nights I\u2019d lie in bed and think tomorrow, tomorrow I\u2019d pack and ditch high school and everything and hitchhike to California.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch\u2019s voice dropped lower, a hollow ring to the words. \u201cAnd meanwhile, men like Artie were waiting in LA, waiting to tell the runaways that he loves them, that he\u2019ll look after them, no strings attached except for the strings you\u2019ll find later when he wants you to beat and smuggle and steal for him, for the continued pleasure of a roof and food and drugs and–and–a family\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Screw giving Hutch space. Starsky moved to the couch, sitting down right next to his partner. He ran a hand along Hutch\u2019s shoulder. \u201cI know how much you hate Artie Solkin.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch gave a watery smile. \u201cYeah, you do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky scooted even closer, until Hutch lifted his arm and allowed Starsky to settle against his side. \u201cIf any of that was supposed to make me question our partnership, well. It didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch sighed. \u201cMaybe I was too vague. I used to sleep with men. Boys my own age and older men. And I liked it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky nodded. \u201cYeah, I got that. I am capable of reading between the lines.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch added quickly, \u201cI haven\u2019t in a long time. Not since before I enrolled in the police academy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cToo dangerous?\u201d Starsky asked, although he couldn\u2019t help but wonder if Hutch had just stopped sleeping with men when he\u2019d grown into his looks and started attracting women.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. First there was Vanessa. Then there was you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Shock was like a physical force, tugging Starsky abruptly in an unforeseen direction. \u201cOh,\u201d he said, and felt absurdly proud that he hadn\u2019t spluttered. If he showed anything but nonchalance, Hutch would run.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow about now?\u201d Hutch asked. \u201cStill sure this is where you want to be?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI already told you, we\u2019re stuck together and I ain\u2019t gonna cut us apart.\u201d He gently lifted Hutch\u2019s forearm. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t think your hand is in any condition to hold scissors.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hutch made a strangled sound, half-laugh and half-sob. \u201cSorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor what? Getting your hand burned by pissing off a creep who pushed all your buttons? For telling me something you shoulda told me ages ago? Or for thinking my love for you could be that easily shaken?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI underestimated you,\u201d Hutch said softly. \u201cYou\u2019re not repulsed.\u201d<\/p>\n

Starsky took stock of his own feelings. He was surprised, a bit confused, and a bit scared. He knew in the back of his mind that this was a big deal, and could have dangerous repercussions. And he didn\u2019t fully understand how his partner \u2014 who had had some of the most beautiful girlfriends he\u2019d ever seen \u2014 could want his male best friend, let alone keep it a secret for years. He was also scared because he felt a spark of excitement, and he wasn\u2019t prepared to figure out what that was about.<\/p>\n

But mostly he felt grateful that despite these additional \u201cwhat if?\u201d possibilities of Hutch\u2019s childhood, Hutch had ended up where he belonged: next to Starsky. He maneuvered Hutch\u2019s injured hand until it was cradled against Starsky\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t know what I saw when I followed you into Tommy\u2019s room,\u201d Starsky whispered. \u201cForget about fighting the Rat King. You sat with him when he was scared. You are the kindest, bravest man I know.\u201d He breathed deeply, feeling love soften the edges of everything. \u201cI wish I could give you a break, whisk you away to some magic place where only nice things happen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you can\u2019t,\u201d Hutch said.<\/p>\n

Starsky settled his head on Hutch\u2019s shoulder and closed his eyes. He felt Hutch\u2019s good hand nestle into his curls and smiled. \u201cNo. All I can do is stick with you. Good thing that\u2019s all I really want.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Note from Elf Management: It must be Christmas kismet. We received two stories with the Nutcracker ballet subject within two days of each other and were struck with how different the stories were despite the starting theme. The authors, who … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,16,14],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-436","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fic","category-safe-for-work","category-slash"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/436","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=436"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/436\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":452,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/436\/revisions\/452"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=436"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=436"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2017\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=436"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}