NS: David and His Jonathan-Part 7

Hutch spent four days in the hospital, was released to his partner’s care, and given crutches with strict orders to stay off the leg for another week, and to call his doctor if any seepage appeared. They also reiterated to him that he should take advantage of the pain medicine when needed in order for him to heal better and faster.

Since both men were off while Hutch healed, Starsky stayed at Hutch’s place and ran back and forth between his apartment and Venice Place. He also handled the chores: watering the plants, shopping, cleaning, all while keeping Hutch comfortable and busy with books, crossword puzzles, and the like. Keeping busy kept Starsky’s mind off his worrisome dreams.

Doctor Mitchell rescheduled Starsky’s next appointment for the following Monday and allowed him to bring Hutch along once Starsky gave her a brief rundown of what went down during Jerome Clark’s capture. Hutch took a chair by the door, while Starsky sat across from Doctor Mitchell.

Turning on her recorder, Dr. Mitchell got oral permission for Hutch’s presence. “I understand you’d like your partner, Sgt. Ken Hutchinson to be present today, correct?”

“Yes, but…” Starsky turned around and exchanged glances with Hutch. “We’d like assurances that anything that is said is, um, kept between us.”

“As mentioned previously, unless we discuss something that can be of potential harm to your partner or other officers, anything we talk about comes under the patient/doctor confidentiality clause.”

Rubbing his hand on his thighs, Starsky nodded. “Okay. Let’s get started then.”

“Relax, Detective Starsky. We’re all here to help you deal with this.” Dr. Mitchell attempted to put her patient at ease. “Now, David, tell me how things have been going since we talked last? You mentioned that these dreams are starting to interfere with your job performance, correct?”

“Yep. That’s part of the reason I want Hutch here.”

“You mentioned that you’ve had more dreams. Do you remember any of them?”

“More like nightmares.” Starsky grumbled.

“Why do you call them nightmares, David?” Dr. Mitchell folded her hands and looked at him intently, but with compassion.

“Doctor Mitchell, perhaps you should listen to this.” Interrupted Hutch from the corner. “I did as you suggested and taped a few of David’s dreams.” He held out a cassette tape that Starsky passed to the doctor.

The doctor accepted the tape and asked Starsky if it was okay for him to play it. Her patient looked at the innocuous item, gulped audibly, then nodded, worried that whatever was on it might prove damaging to his relationship with Hutch, not to mention his job.

“JONATH…..HUUUUTCH!” The sound of Starsky crying in anguish was disturbing to his partner as Hutch sat reliving the moment again. He shuddered at the cry, noticing that Dr. Mitchell was also startled at the of distress Starsky’s cry.

“Above all. I love thee above all. Do not thou forget.” Then came the sound of a mattress creaking and covers rustling.

“David, it’s another dream. Come on, everything’s okay.” Hutch’s voice was obvious over the magnetic tape, but muffled. “What are you dreaming, babe? What’s bothering you?”

“I felt like my life was ending, but I was still alive. It was a nightmare.” Starsky remarked over the tape.

“You mean like you were being smothered or buried alive? Like in your late night monster movies?”

“Not like that kind of nightmare. This was like something killed what made me…me, ya
know?”

“No, not really. But Starsk, it’s just a dream. Remember that. It’s not real.”

After some indistinguishable sounds Starsky spoke again. “Hutch? You…you aren’t
going anywhere are you?”

“When, now?”

“No, it’s just…I got the feelin’ that these dreams are connected to you.”

A clicking sound was heard, as if someone had turned off the machine, followed by a
lengthy silence, then a softer click. Then came an incantation.

“Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither let there be no rain upon you, nor fields of offerings; for there the shield of the might is vilely cast away. From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the might, the bow of Jonathan turned not back. Jonathan was lovely and pleasant in his life and in his death we wilt not be divided; he was swifter than eagles, stronger than lions.

How are the might fallen in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, thou wast slain in thy high places. I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan, my lover; very pleasant hast thou been unto me; thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of all women."

Turning off the machine, Dr. Mitchell looked at both men in the eye. “Based on what I just heard can I assume that the two of you are in a homosexual relationship? With each other?”

Blond and dark brown heads nodded slowly, simultaneously.

“I’m not going to dwell on the dangers of this type of relationship in your job. I’m sure you’re aware of them. I feel in a quandary, because romantic relationships are frowned upon for working partners, yet I do realize we are under a ‘doctor/patient’ confidentiality clause.” She paused and sighed for effect while gathering her thoughts. “I would recommend that you at least inform your superior, but unless I hear of or see any danger arising from this situation, I’m going to keep counsel for now.”

“Thank you.” Hutch said with quiet meaning from his corner. He told himself there was no way they could say anything to Dobey.

She turned to Starsky, “Now David, do you or have you ever known a Jonathan?”

Shaking his head negatively, Starsky denied the question for the umpteenth time.

“Can you answer the question? I’m afraid my tape recorder doesn’t pick up gestures.” Dr. Mitchell smiled soothingly.

“No. I don’t think I ever knew a Jonathan, even back home in New York.”

“And this ‘Jonathan’ keeps reappearing in your dreams?”

“Yeah. But I swear Hutch’s the only guy in my life. Ever. That I love like that.” He clarified.

“Do you always use archaic speech patterns? In these dreams?”

“Huh?”

“The way you spoke, Starsk, on the tape. The older terms and phrases.”

“I guess Hutch would know more than me about that. I don’t really remember much from them.”

Sitting back in her chair, Doctor Mitchell thought for a moment. “I think you might be right David. About these dreams, or nightmares, having some sort of connection with Hutch’s and your relationship.”

‘Uh, oh,’ thought Starsky. ‘Here comes the part where she tells us that our love for each other is because of some negative psychobabble conflict; and that we shouldn’t be together.’ He braced himself.

“Have you ever heard of past-life regression?”

That was not the reaction or response Starsky expected. “Huh? Past life? Like reincarnation stuff?”

“Yes, but we don’t like to use that term.” She looked over to Hutch. “Detective Hutchinson, have you?”

“I know the idea became popular in the ‘50s with the Virginia Tighe case, and has grown somewhat in paranormal studies and in the remaining hippie culture.”

“Yes. But it’s also becoming a serious study in the psychiatric field also.”

Starsky broke in, waving his hands back and forth between him and Hutch as he turned halfway around in his chair, “But what does this have to do with me? Or us?”

“Detective Starsky, the terminology you used in your dream sequences and the verse you spoke leads me to believe you might be reliving a past life of your relationship with Detective Hutchinson in your dreams. Your partner might even have played a part in this past life.”

Starsky was doubtful, “Oh, come on. You don’t really subscribe to that stuff do you?” While he believed in many mystical things – the existence of Big Foot, the reality of UFOs – one thing Starsky always had a hard time coming to grips with were any ideas that touched on the paranormal and the mind.

“I’ve studied it in school briefly, and while I’ve never treated anyone with the condition, you do have the classic symptoms.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Dreams, inability to sleep, inability to distance the dream’s emotions from real life, images that overlap while you’re awake, and the verbiage and terminology you use.”

“I wonder if you’d consider hypnotherapy to try to release these dreams and emotions. While I’m not trained in past life regression therapy, I can recommend someone with the proper qualifications.”

Starsky addressed his partner, “Hutch? What do you think? You’re the one who believes in this kinda stuff.”

“I think it’s worth a shot, Starsk. Especially if it helps you.”

Turning back to the doctor Starsky reluctantly agreed.

“Okay, let me contact my colleague and I’ll have my secretary call you later today with an appointment. It will probably be held at his office, if that’s okay.”

Starsky shrugged his shoulders. “Can Hutch come?”

“I would recommend it. Depending on your results, we might want to try to hypnotize him also.” She wrote something down on her notepad. “In the meantime, I recommend you be reassigned to desk duty until we get this resolved.” Coughing lightly, the department psychiatrist also recommended that they distance themselves from each other for awhile. “Take a break in other words.”

“Can’t do that Doc. Hutch needs me.”

“Starsky. I’m not an invalid. I can stay by myself.”

“Yeah, and who’s gonna get your stuff for you, and help you with your bath, and all that other stuff I’ve been doing?” He looked at the doctor. “We’ll work something out Doc. Thanks.” And he rose to help his partner to his feet and to the car.