A bouquet of roses and lots of thanks to Solo and SHaron for all their help scanning and proofing these classic stories of Constance Collins! This story originally appeared in the zine Wanna Share 2. 

Comments about this story can be sent to: VenicePlaceAngel@aol.com

Temporary Guest
by
Constance Collins

Hutch had been sitting, staring at Starsky ever since they brought his comatose body into the intensive care unit. There had been no need to chase down the bad guys -- their car had slammed into a telephone pole just seconds after their shots ripped into Starsky's body. The car exploded on impact, but Hutch somehow had a hard time caring, holding Starsky's bleeding body in his arms.

The sudden sound of Starsky's voice startled him so badly that he dropped the Styrofoam cup of coffee Huggy had brought him. "What?" he asked aloud.

"Stop that!" Starsky scolded. "You want people to think you're talking to yourself?"

"I must be losing my mind," Hutch muttered. Dobey glanced over at him, concerned.

"I told you to stop it! You're the only one that can hear me 'cause I'm inside your head. You got anything to say, just think it. Otherwise they're gonna cart us off to the locked ward & I don't think I oughta get too far from my body."

"What the hell is going on?" Hutch thought forcefully.

"How do I know? Quit looking in there," Starsky ordered, referring to the intensive care unit. "I'm not in there, I'm in here --"

"Well, what're you doing in here?" Hutch exploded. Dobey walked over to him, puzzled.

"Now you've done it. You tell him about this and you're gonna win yourself a free trip to the nearest shrink, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Is that what you want?"

"Hutch, I think maybe you should go home and get some rest," Dobey said carefully.

"You can't," Starsky said. "I don't want to get too far --"

"I know, I know," Hutch thought. "Now shut up and let me deal with this." Aloud he answered Dobey, "I'm fine, Captain. I don't want to leave him."

"All right," Dobey agreed doubtfully. Prying Hutch away from Starsky would take more energy than he had right that minute. He walked back over and resumed his seat.

"What's going on? Are you trying to drive me crazy?" It would be just like Starsky -- haunting him without even being dead, making him look like a fool in front of the whole world. He'd thought he'd had no privacy before, with Starsky trying to run his life. With Starsky actually inside his head, he'd never have a moment's peace -- "So, what're you doing in my head?" There was no response from Starsky, and for a second Hutch thought he was gone; then it dawned on him that Starsky had heard everything he'd thought, and now he was pissed. "So, you've taken up residence in my head but you're not going to talk to me? Is that it?"

The sound of Starsky's laughter thrilled through his brain; it felt like standing in a high wind, waiting to be whipped away. "Yeah, ok, you're right; if I'm gonna be here, it's pretty silly not to talk to you.

"I think what it is is I'm having an out-of-body experience, except instead of floating around, I'm here in your head."

"You know, you're in a coma," Hutch said carefully. Starsky sounded perplexed and Hutch didn't want to upset him.

"Yeah." Starsky didn't seem particularly interested in this information. "This is really terrific, you know --" He sounded like he was talking about a ride at Disneyland.

"So, when are you going back to your own body?"

"I don't know. I'm in no hurry; it's not going anywhere, you know."

"You're just planning to hang around in my head, driving me crazy?"

"Hey! I'm not planning anything! I don't even know exactly what happened; all of sudden I wasn't inside me anymore, I was just sorta floating by this nurse. Then I saw you sitting out here looking like you were gonna cry, so I came out to say something to you. But since I didn't have my body, you couldn't hear me, so I kinda, I dunno, pushed you and then I wasn't standing next to you, I sorta inside you, like I am now."

"How is that possible?"

"How do I know? Just 'cause I can do it doesn't mean I know how it works."

"Well, at least that makes sense," Hutch replied sarcastically.

"Hey: you don't hafta be able to understand aerodynamics to fly a plane, do you?" Starsky pleaded.

"Are you sure I'm not just losing my mind?"

"If you're losing your mind, then I'm not really here, so I couldn't very well tell whether or not you're going crazy, could I? 'Cause I'd just be a figment of your imagination. And what good is the opinion of figment of your imagination? Unless," he added before Hutch had a chance to reply, "you're just losing my mind and my being here has nothing to do with it. See?"

"Will you stop it?" Hutch practically yelled at him. "You're giving me a headache!"

Dobey was at Hutch's side in a moment. "I want you to go home right now. You've been sitting here for the last five hours --"

"If I leave, what happens?" Hutch asked.

"You mean, do I go with you? I don't know -- I don't think I should get that far from my body."

"But why don't you go back to your body? You are going back to your body, aren't you?"

"Hutch, are you listening to me?" Dobey asked.

"Of course I'm going back to my body -- you think I wanna get stuck sharing yours for the next hundred & forty-some years?"

"What I mean is -- are you going to be all right?"

"Hutchinson!"

"All right -- ? Hey, yeah, I'm gonna be fine, I promise. It was just so boring, being stuck in there --" Suddenly Starsky could feel the fatigue in Hutch's body. "Hey, babe, I think Dobey's right -- you're exhausted. Why don't you go home and get some sleep? I'll see you in the morning."

"Will you be all right in the morning?" Hutch asked. Dobey hurried off to find doctor.

"I'll be awake in the morning." As Hutch stood to leave, Starsky asked him, "Hey, you think this is a religious experience of some kind?"

"You wanna know what I think? I think I've seen you get shot one too many times and it's catching up with me. If you're not awake in the morning, I'm going to check out the nearest mental health facility."

"And if I am?"

Hutch considered for a moment. "Then maybe this is some kind of religious experience. Although, the thought of a god with a sense of humor warped enough to let you running loose in people's brains is a pretty good argument for atheism."

Again Starsky's laughter gusted through his mind; then it was gone.

Dobey returned with a tired-looking doctor. "It's all right, Captain, I'm going home to catch some sleep. See you in the morning."

Dobey and the doctor watched Hutch walk toward the elevator. "Well, he seems to be making sense to me," the doctor said. "Sleep is exactly what he needs."

Dobey shook his head. "That's even stranger than him talking to himself," Dobey answered. "I don't think I've ever seen him leave the hospital with Starsky still in ICU."

The nurse told Hutch it was the strangest thing she'd ever seen; just after Hutch got on the elevator, Starsky regained consciousness. When Hutch asked her if Starsky had said anything, she laughed. "He said it was boring being in a coma and he didn't want to do it again. I've never heard that one before."

Fortunately there was a chair behind Hutch to keep him from hitting the floor. "Is he going to be all right now?" Hutch asked finally. The nurse explained about the paths the bullets had taken, but Hutch wasn't tracking. At last he interrupted her. "Can I see him now?"

"Visiting hours just started. Room 281."

Hutch practically ran to the elevator. He slowed down just outside Starsky's door and entered the room quietly. Starsky opened his eyes and half smiled at him. Hutch could see he was groggy from the pain killers, but this couldn't wait.

"How're you feeling?"

"Not so hot. How're you feeling?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well, sit down before you fall down." As Hutch started to pull a chair closer to the bed, Starsky added, "Better yet, why don't'cha lay down here with me?"

"I don't think I'm supposed to --"

"Yeah, that's right, you gotta be plastered for me to get you into bed, right?"

"Jerk." Hutch carefully lay down next to him on the narrow bed. "But you've got to promise to respect me in the morning."

"This is the morning... isn't it?"

"Yeah, that's right." There was a short silence, then, "Starsky, what happened last night?"

"Don't you remember? You must've been even more tired than it felt like --"

"Then it really happened?"

"Sure it happened."

"But how -- why -- did it happen?"

But Starsky was asleep.