{"id":70,"date":"2019-12-05T05:25:24","date_gmt":"2019-12-05T05:25:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/?p=70"},"modified":"2019-12-05T05:25:24","modified_gmt":"2019-12-05T05:25:24","slug":"december-5th-i-shall-not-pass-this-way-again-by-dawnwind","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/?p=70","title":{"rendered":"December 5th- I Shall Not Pass This Way Again by Dawnwind"},"content":{"rendered":"

The brown grasses of the canyon hills shimmered golden. The evening sun poised on the tallest peak, spreading rays of molten oranges and yellows before dipping down below Starsky\u2019s line of vision. Blue gray clouds limned with the last of the sun\u2019s glow piled in, turning the olive green native foliage to dark, hulking shadows.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky let ice cream melt on his tongue, savoring every cool, creamy bite. At 7:40 p.m., the August heat had finally cooled enough that sitting out on the deck didn\u2019t feel like his flesh would burn off.<\/span><\/p>\n

The ice cream was a treat. Even better with the thick layer of rich, decadent chocolate on top, and of course, the slices of banana Hutch had insisted on to give the dessert a semblance of healthiness.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch returned from putting the ice cream carton in the freezer, rubbing his hands together as if he\u2019d been shoveling snow instead of dishing out a frosty delight. He picked up his dish, the one with far more bananas than Starsky\u2019s, looking over with an accusatory stare. \u201cAdded something to mine, did you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d Starsky licked his spoon, projecting as innocent an expression as he could. Not that it ever worked on Hutch. He could read him far too well.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPotassium, Starsk,\u201d Hutch said loftily, eating a large spoonful. \u201cGood for all parts of the body.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky shrugged, scraping the bottom of his nearly empty bowl, getting just the right proportion of chocolate sauce, banana, and ice cream to bring to his mouth. \u201cI\u2019m here, aren\u2019t I?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch frowned as if the comment was in poor taste and put down his half-eaten dessert. He looked out across the darkening canyon, clearly still unnerved by the subject of Starsky\u2019s recent shooting.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky needed to move on, to get to the next level in his recovery. He no longer required pain killers for the healed wounds, had regained a great deal of the weight he\u2019d lost in the first two months, and graduated from simple strength building exercises in physical therapy just that morning. Hence the ice cream party. Now would come the difficult goal of recertification for the police force. There was no way he was going to let Hutch continue partnerless.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yet, Hutch seemed stuck, unable to move past the guilt and trauma in his own gut. Starsky didn\u2019t have to ask to know what Hutch was thinking. It was exactly the same things he would have stressed over were the situation reversed.<\/span><\/p>\n

I screwed up.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t do enough to save him from getting hurt.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

It should have been me.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky had heard Hutch say the last phrase, more than once. Hutch probably didn\u2019t know he\u2019d voiced the painful admission, because he\u2019d always whispered it when he thought Starsky was asleep. Late at night in the hospital, when self-recriminations were always the most wounding. When the brain won\u2019t shut down and give a body peace to rest.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky knew. Which is why he had to tear open the scab over Hutch\u2019s heart, force it to grieve and heal. They would never be able to work the streets together again until Hutch saw that he was whole.<\/span><\/p>\n

Every time the sun set, Starsky was struck again by the similarity of day and night with life and death. Not at all something he\u2019d have pondered before he was shot. Now it came to him over and over. That for a period of time, he had been dead.<\/span><\/p>\n

His heart pumping only because dedicated doctors had given him CPR. And then that scary defibrillator machine which always looked like an instrument of torture on TV shows. Like what Dr. Frankenstein had used on his monstrous creation.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow long was I dead?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch dropped his spoon on the deck, the vanilla ice cream and bananas in his bowl suddenly more colorful than his skin tone. As if the blood inside his veins had stopped circulating.<\/span><\/p>\n

Scared, Starsky leaned in to look at him. \u201cHutch?\u201d He grasped his friend\u2019s arm, picking up the spoon at the same time.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch startled, inhaling raggedly. \u201cI-I don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t know or you won\u2019t tell me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Hutch said, his voice quiet, remote.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou weren\u2019t at the hospital?\u201d No one had ever discussed this with him. He\u2019d only learned of his premature demise because the nurses had let it slip one day.<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch shook his head violently, his longish hair rising up in the breeze like the halo of a beleaguered saint in some old fashioned painting. \u201cI was in the squadroom. Dobey told me to come\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He clasped his hands together to stop the shaking, but it wasn\u2019t until Starsky cupped his own around Hutch\u2019s that he calmed. \u201cI don\u2019t know how\u2026 I drove. Fast. It seemed to take forever and no time at all to get to the hospital.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It was a ten minute drive from Metro to Bay City General. Starsky had driven the distance often enough in their career as cops. He keenly remembered traveling that road when Hutch was recovering from a bullet in his shoulder. There was always that terrible anxiety that something might have changed for the patient while the partner was away.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I got there, you were alive. Just.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch must have been terrified. Trepidation, dread, and fear would have been palpable, drowning out all other thought and sensation. No wonder he didn\u2019t know.<\/span><\/p>\n

Which didn\u2019t help fill in the gaps in Starsky\u2019s memory. \u201cCan you tell me? About the first couple days when I was\u2026\u201d He lifted one shoulder with half a smile to reassure Hutch. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to, if it\u2019s\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Hutch rubbed his thumb over Starsky\u2019s, turning his wrists so that he was holding Starsky\u2019s hands instead of the other way around. \u201cI mean, yes, I can try. Don\u2019t know if I can remember everything. It\u2019s a jumble.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, tell me about it.\u201d His belly clenched, the image of Hutch lying there in a suburban hallway bleeding after that slip of a girl shot him as fresh as when it happened ten months ago.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe ambulance arrived faster than I expected,\u201d Hutch said all in one breath. He was panting afterward. \u201cDobey\u2019d run out, and Minnie. Others, too, but I couldn\u2019t look at anyone but you. I put my hands over the\u2014\u201c His voice broke and he had to stop.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky shifted until they were palm to palm, arms resting on Hutch\u2019s thighs. \u201cYou tried to stop the bleeding?\u201d he asked softly. He was sure he could remember that, sure he\u2019d had some faint hold on consciousness then.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI had to move you, lay you on your back to staunch the bleeding from the bullet wounds,\u201d Hutch continued, disconnecting their hands to mime the movements. \u201cYour eyes were open at first, but\u2014 And then the paramedics were there. Pushed me away to start IVs, I don\u2019t know what else.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOxygen mask, vital signs,\u201d Starsky recalled from the time the paramedics had worked on Hutch in that little house.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Dobey drove me to the hospital.\u201d He exhaled noisily, rotating his neck to crack the tense muscles. \u201cThe ER docs sent you to the OR really fast. They hardly had time to tell us what was going on before\u2014\u201d He looked down, latching onto Starsky\u2019s hand with a death grip. \u201cI didn\u2019t have enough faith, Starsk. I thought I\u2019d already lost you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t happen, Hutch. And it won\u2019t.\u201d Starsky had the oddest urge to kiss him, sooth away the pain. Not like a father to his child, no. More like a lover.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHours, and hours. It didn\u2019t make any sense how long it took.\u201d Hutch touched Starsky\u2019s chest as if to reassure himself that his heart continued to beat. \u201cTime passed, people came and went. You were out of surgery but so still.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA coma?\u201d Starsky asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDrug induced. The doctors didn\u2019t want you to move.\u201d Hutch reached up to Starsky\u2019s curls, stroking the soft skin behind his ear. \u201cThere were so many tubes and IVs, but I thought I could hear you calling me. Don\u2019t give up. Don\u2019t<\/em>.\u201d He tipped his head, peering at Starsky like he\u2019d never seen him before.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI think I was.\u201d Starsky closed his eyes, trying to tease out one actual memory from those lost hours\u2014days. There was nothing but a sense of desperation and loss. \u201cTrying to find myself and get back to you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Hutch said on a huff of a breath. \u201cEvery hour, the nurses allowed a visitor in for ten minutes\u2026\u201d He looked up at the sky but from his glazed expression, it was clear he wasn\u2019t admiring the darkening heavens. \u201cAnd I\u2019d sit there\u2026 lost.\u201d His voice was barely above a whisper.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky nodded, well aware of the feeling. Of doctors coming by, talking their jargon that he\u2019d only understand one in ten. Bullet only a few inches from the heart. Only that had been Hutch\u2019s shooting, not his own. Hutch healed, just as he was. Except for the memories of that fear, that desperate ache that someone he loved the most had almost died.<\/span><\/p>\n

No wonder Hutch still clutched so tightly. He couldn\u2019t let go of the fear.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere was a guy dressed like an intern. Tried to get into your room.\u201d He watched Starsky eat a spoonful of ice cream and fruit with something akin to satisfaction and awe. As if he\u2019d been afraid he might never see that happen again.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou clobbered the guy?\u201d Starsky asked, to get the discussion back on track. Just like a loose tooth, had to wiggle it until the sucker came out.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTook him down,\u201d Hutch said, swinging his arm hard as if tackling a linebacker. \u201cBut he fought me and ran out\u2014security caught him as he was trying to leave via the ambulance bay.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

So much he had been oblivious to.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour wrist?\u201d Starsky prompted, to shed some of his own fears. Hutch had recovered from his bullet wound with no lasting damage and gone back on duty with barely a hitch. Only to receive a wound on the left wrist shortly after Starsky was shot. He\u2019d seen the bandage wrapped around Hutch\u2019s wrist when he woke from his coma.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTwo guys in the hospital parking garage, blocking the car,\u201d Hutch related, his eyes distant as if he could still see the assailant. He put his left arm out. The sultry August weather had both of them in short sleeved t-shirts, so Starsky could clearly see the pinkish scar on his wrist. \u201cOne was helping a man in a wheelchair, bent over like he\u2019d collapsed or something. I went over to push him out of the way.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd he pulled a knife?\u201d Starsky asked, visualizing the scene as if he\u2019d been there.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI shot one of \u2018em.\u201d Hutch cradled the affected arm. \u201cHandcuffed the other to his car but\u2026 still felt like I screwed up. Should have been prepared for another attack.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHutch!\u201d Starsky rebuked him, astonished. \u201cYou know that ain\u2019t true. You didn\u2019t cause what happened t\u2019me anymore than you caused\u2026.\u201d For some reason he couldn\u2019t think of an appropriate analogy. \u201cThan that fucking Hurricane David hitting the east coast today.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch quirked a half-hearted smile. \u201cWith your name all over it.\u201d He picked up his bowl, the bananas floating in melted ice cream.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBet there\u2019s never been a Hurricane Kenneth, huh?\u201d Starsky grinned, some of the tension draining out of both of them. He stuck his spoon in Hutch\u2019s bowl to scoop up one of the banana slices. \u201cBut the attack put you on the alert, huh? Knew something was brewing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d Hutch nodded. \u201cIn a way, that attack galvanized me. Knocked my head straight, and I started going after people associated with Gunther\u2014although I didn\u2019t know it was him yet.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

So hard not to compare every instance of his own shooting with Hutch\u2019s. Yes, there was a world of difference between the two occurrences. Nobody\u2019d been trying to assassinate Hutch; just a scared young girl attempting to flee arrest. But the heart\u2019s memory didn\u2019t understand qualitative distinctions like that. The fickle brain forgot sweet evenings like this one, where the sunset was spectacular and the air like soft bunny fur brushing against the cheek. Instead, it replayed traumatic incidents in nightmares, the-worst-day-in-my-life reel to scare the shit out of a person in his sleep.<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky knew Hutch had those dreams. Hutch used to sleep in the chair beside his bed in the hospital and wake up in a panic, stark terror on his face.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nowadays, here in his own house where Hutch was sleeping on the couch, Starsky had heard him cry out in the night. Had heard Hutch yell \u201cStarsky!\u201d in warning.<\/span><\/p>\n

Just as he kept dreaming of Hutch lying in the hallway of that suburban house, blood staining his blue jacket, right over his heart. In dreams, Starsky often found Hutch dead. Not always, but enough times that he\u2019d woken, panting and sweating in terror.<\/span><\/p>\n

The week before, they\u2019d both had nightmares at what must have been the same time, just after two a.m. Luckily, Hutch\u2019s day off. He wasn\u2019t patrolling the streets without Starsky, but he\u2019d been helping Dobey with a gang violence task force. The two of them, sleep deprived and practically nude in the late night heat, had met in the kitchen. Taking snacks into the living room, they\u2019d put their feet up on the coffee table, bare foot against bare foot, eaten the bowls of watermelon and fallen asleep, curled against one another.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ever since then, they\u2019d simply gotten into the same bed. Saved them from the late night heebie-jeebies. Starsky loved lying next to Hutch, feeling the warmth of that big, long body. Even on the last few sweltering nights, Starsky had relished Hutch\u2019s body touching his. This morning, they\u2019d awakened holding hands, palms sweaty.<\/span><\/p>\n

The lovely beginning to a really good day, what with the PT goal met and a whole day spent with Hutch. If he could just draw the last of that festering dread that held Hutch in a rigor, Starsky would feel like they could move forward.<\/span><\/p>\n

Exactly what the future held, he wasn\u2019t sure. But he was grateful that they had one.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou pounded the pavement, arrested some whippo\u2026\u201d Starsky commented, setting aside his bowl and spoon. \u201cSo you weren\u2019t at the hospital when Dobey called.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hutch seemed to fold in on himself, the nearly empty bowl tipping out of his lax hand. Starsky grabbed the bowl and placed it on the deck before clasping Hutch\u2019s hands in both of his. Unlike this morning, his hand was cold as ice\u2014a shock on such a hot day.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey,\u201d Starsky said sharply, giving their joined hands a shake. \u201cYou\u2019re here now and so am I. Talk to me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Nodding, Hutch raised his head to look directly into Starsky\u2019s eyes. \u201cTakes\u2014what? Ten minutes between Metro and BC Gen?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d say so,\u201d Starsky agreed as if he hadn\u2019t thought of that earlier, grateful that Hutch was moving through the sequence. He just had to get to the end. See that they\u2019d both survived. That they had more to do.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cProbably made it in less than five. I don\u2019t know how.\u201d Hutch sucked in a huge breath, filling his chest. \u201cI ran through the halls, burst through the door. You were alive when I got there.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo you never saw what they did?\u201d He hadn\u2019t known that part. He was glad Hutch hadn\u2019t been witness to such a scene. It was bad enough simply watching one\u2019s partner, best friend, hover near death. The times Hutch had had the damned plague and botulism had been horrible, without the high drama of a code blue.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDobey and Huggy saw.\u201d Hutch shuddered, finally squeezing Starsky\u2019s hands tightly. \u201cBoth said they thought we\u2019d lost you until I got there. That I brought\u2026 you back.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

From deep inside, Starsky felt a vibration, akin to the chiming of a bell. As if something significant and precious had just occurred. Not on that day back in May, although that certainly had been one for the record books. No, this was a\u2014what was that word he\u2019d read in otherworldly novels? Portent. A sign.<\/span><\/p>\n

He\u2019d felt\u2014known\u2014Hutch even as his heartbeat waned. That his life depended on Hutch, exactly as Hutch\u2019s life depended on him. They were intertwined to the depths of their souls.<\/span><\/p>\n

He\u2019d recognized his abiding love for Hutch ages ago. So long that it went without saying\u2014or so he had thought. Maybe he should voice it out loud. Get it out in the open. Didn\u2019t mean\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

What did it mean?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

They slept in the same bed, holding hands. Snippets of past conversations suddenly materialized\u2014both things he\u2019d said, and Hutch. That they spent seventy-five percent of the time together, \u201cAnd you\u2019re not even a good kisser.\u201d \u201cHow beautiful your eyes become when you are angry.\u201d \u201cYou know I love you, Starsk, but\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStarsky?\u201d Hutch gave their still linked hands a little shake, as Starsky had done.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou were my home, Hutch, my place.\u201d Starsky searched that beloved face. Such a fine man, capable of compassion and violence, whichever was necessary. He needn\u2019t have waited. It was there, painted on every cell in Hutch\u2019s body. Love.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI love you,\u201d Hutch said quietly into the gentle darkness of the evening.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI was gonna say that!\u201d Starsky said, startled. He laughed, the chuckles rushing out as if released from a pressure valve that he couldn\u2019t shut off.<\/span><\/p>\n

Which infected Hutch. Suddenly they were both laughing helplessly, collapsing into each other\u2019s arms from mirth. Starsky braced one foot on the wooden step of the deck he\u2019d been sitting on, the rest of him wrapped around Hutch, feeling their hearts hammering against each other as if connected with a tether. At some point he could not have identified if he\u2019d tried, their laughter had slowed and then stopped, but they were still hugging.<\/span><\/p>\n

He kissed Hutch. It was so easy, so perfectly reasonable, he couldn\u2019t fathom why they\u2019d never done it before. Or why Hutch had considered him\u2014without any proof\u2014to be a less than desirable kisser.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cKeep going,\u201d Hutch murmured when Starsky took a breath. \u201cThis is\u2014\u201c His kiss was forceful and life-giving. \u201cEverything.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll say.\u201d Starsky played his fingers through the feathery blond hair at Hutch\u2019s temple. \u201cJust took us a while, huh?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAlways said you were a slow learner.\u201d Hutch smiled at him, the fear that had gripped him completely gone.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMe?\u201d Starsky snorted, pressing a quick kiss on those pink lips because he could. Hutch\u2019s lap wasn\u2019t really as comfortable as a couch, so he settled back onto the step, pressed up against his partner. \u201cWho sat by my bed for two months? You could have brought it up any time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere do we go from here?\u201c Hutch asked softly, hooking an arm around Starsky\u2019s back to keep him close. \u201cI think we need\u2026\u201d He bit his bottom lip, clearly aware that what he was about to say wasn\u2019t going to be popular. \u201cAn exit plan. I can\u2019t do this much longer.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky didn\u2019t have to be told what \u2018this\u2019 was. Working on the street, knowing that any moment could be their last. That he was nearly taken out on Metro property would make it all that much harder to walk across that parking lot again. But he had to.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRaincheck?\u201d Starsky fingered the frayed seam of his jeans, teasing out a thread. \u201cThe PT recommended me for recertification. Hutch, I gotta do that.\u201d He tipped his head, nearly having to crane his neck to look Hutch in the eye since they were so close together. \u201cI need to prove to myself that I can.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s one bet I\u2019d make,\u201d Hutch said sincerely. \u201cYou can do anything you put your mind to.\u201d He paused, listening to the wings of an owl rustling as it flew into the dark sky. \u201cHow long do you need? What should we plan for?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI certify back on duty by\u2026\u201d Starsky considered his own limitations at this moment and what he could build on. \u201cOctober, November at the latest? We go into 1980 strong, together.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWith a kiss at midnight?\u201d Hutch nudged him in the ribs.<\/span><\/p>\n

Exactly onto one of the scars that sent weird zingy sensations down Starsky\u2019s left side, but he didn\u2019t say anything. That was his reality, and what he had to deal with. If he had to chase after some dumb-assed purse snatcher, or bring down a drug dealer, he had to contend with the odd pangs without dropping out of the game.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf that\u2019s all you want coming, I got surprises for you, buddy,\u201d Starsky teased. \u201cBJ, frottage, a whole new language coming your way.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShould I study up?\u201d Hutch smirked. \u201cThink I remember that BJ thing from the circle jerks we did back in Duluth.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou musta gone to a progressive high school.\u201d Starsky nodded in appreciation. On the deck, with the outside light over their shoulders, he could see the mound swelling in Hutch\u2019s groin at their \u2018dirty\u2019 talk. \u201cOne year. I want to know I got my mojo back before we\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cQuit?\u201d Hutch took his hand. \u201cNovember of 1980.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Starsky felt like they\u2019d just promised each other solemn vows without saying the words. Like they\u2019d gotten married on a summer night with a crescent moon above their heads. \u201cYeah. We go out together, never looking back.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

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

The brown grasses of the canyon hills shimmered golden. The evening sun poised on the tallest peak, spreading rays of molten oranges and yellows before dipping down below Starsky\u2019s line of vision. Blue gray clouds limned with the last of … 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":[4,10,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-70","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fic","category-nsfw","category-slash"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/70","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=70"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/70\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":216,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/70\/revisions\/216"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=70"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=70"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/advent.starskyhutchcalendar.net\/2019\/calendar\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=70"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}