“You love him too, don't you?”

This story first started with the Me and Thee 1000 Challenge 19: WHUMPAGE, but I started writing and it got too long for that Challenge. So I guess I will put it here and let y'all read it if you want.
It is S/H pairing, but there is no sex and it is more Hutch angst and hurt and NG I think you can read it(if you want).

edit:(hint of sex at the very end, but no actural sex was discribed in this fic).:P

Fairy Tale
by
Nancys_soul

I remember, or I should say, what I think I remember from the summer of 1958 is lying in a white room with a projector. I was 15 years old. I had done a very bad thing, according to my father. He caught me kissing my best friend behind the shed in our back yard. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if my friend had been a girl, but my best friend was a guy named Jack.

You might wonder why I am bringing this up now, twenty-three years later? Well, at the age of 38, Kenneth Richard Hutchinson, big bad street cop, has finally realized that the summer of 1958, the summer of few memories, shaped my entire life.

In 1958, lots of things were happening; inflation was high, Elvis Presley was inducted into the army, and a kid that was just one year younger than me won the US Chess Championship. But all I can remember is kissing Jack (and I didn’t remember this for a long time), the white room, pictures of girls with guys, pictures of men with men, and pain, lots of pain.

Growing up in Minnesota, where my father was a minister in the Lutheran church as well as the head of the school board and my mother was Miss Goodie-two-shoes of Duluth, I learned to toe the line or pay the consequences for my actions. Boy, did I pay, and I’m still paying now.

For a long time, I didn’t even remember kissing Jack, I just remembered what happened in the white room. I would have nightmares where I was lying in a white room, and there were pictures of girls with guys. A man was telling me that this was what’s right, this is what’s natural, this is good.
I spent hours and hours looking at these pictures. One day, I was moved to another white room. I was strapped to a bed with wires attached to my head. Every time I was shown a picture with two men together, I was shocked repeatedly. The man in charge told me that this was wrong, and he called the men in the photos all sorts of filthy names.
This was extremely painful, but the last time I was given electroshock was by far the most painful. The only thing I remember was a man's voice laughing and saying, “Boy, I’m going to fry the fairy right out of your head!”
And there was this intense pain, and then whiteness. I would wake up sweating and screaming. Over the years, the dreams came in all different forms, but the voice was always the same. "Fry the fairy right out of your head, out of your head, out of my head…"
I went back home and was a good little Christian boy. I did what I was told, I made good grades, I sang in the choir, I dated the girls. I was good.

I even went to college to be what my father wanted me to be, and married a beautiful woman that they adored. I was the perfect son.

This story begins to change because I started to remember more and more about the time in the white room. It made me want to rebel.
Why did they put me in that white room? Why would they hurt me like that? Or was it all a dream? Was there really a white room? I once asked my father, but he just looked at me and told me I was crazy, and to stop acting foolish.

I always wanted to be a policeman. Maybe it was because I wanted to be in control, instead of always being controlled. I don’t really know. When I told my wife Vanessa and my parents that I was dropping out of college to go into the police academy, they were not happy, and that’s putting it mildly. You would think that being a married man, I should’ve been able to do whatever I wanted. I had to pay a painful price for my career change. My wife left me. She didn’t want to be the poor wife of a policeman, and my parents cut me out of their will and severed all financial ties.

I called this a time of freedom. Even the nightmares stopped for a while. I was on my own, doing whatever I wanted. It was nirvana.

The best thing that ever happened to me was meeting Starsky. Immediately, I knew that Starsky and I were going to be best friends. He was the kind of guy that wasn’t judgmental at all. He liked me just the way I was. We became best friends, and then partners on the force. All was good, although every once in awhile, I heard the voice when I looked at a guy the “wrong way”, but that didn’t happen often. Starsky and I were known as ladies' men. The women loved us, and we loved the ladies.

The reason I am telling this story is because some things have happened lately that have really rocked my world. First, I saw Jack, Jack Mitchell, high school buddy, and who was the reason for the white room.

It wasn’t until I was in Las Vegas working on a case with Starsky, trying to find a killer, that I remembered Jack and the kiss. Starsky and I were undercover. Our job was to lose some money and get in trouble so we could get thrown in jail and hopefully reveal the identity of a serial killer.
While we were sitting in the cell, I saw this guy lying on a bunk. Surprise, surprise, it was Jack Mitchell. He was the man the Vegas Police suspected of being the serial killer.
I was excited to see him, but when I realized I had been set up, it all just came back to me. I kissed Jack behind the shed in my back yard when I was 15 years old. My head started to ache, and I felt sick the whole time I was in Vegas. I just pretended it was from lack of sleep and too much drinking, but I knew that the old feelings were coming back to haunt me.

Starsky didn’t understand why I was so upset about the suspicions that Jack was a murderer; he thought I should be more worried about the show girl that he had fallen for, since she was a potential victim. Starsky didn’t know our history together.
I can still hear him say to me, “I’m stinking sick of your loyalty to your friend.”
I found that strange coming from Starsky. It was so out of character for him. I look back now and wonder if he was jealous of me and my protectiveness of Jack.

I turned it back on him though, and said, “Present company included?” I made him feel guilty, and that made me feel guilty.

I couldn’t tell Starsky the real reason for my concern, because I was afraid of what he might think of me. I still didn’t know if my memories of kissing Jack were true or just another of my mixed-up dreams. Jack didn’t seem to remember—possibly because it turned out that he had a brain tumor.
He died before we'd closed the case, and left me with so many questions. But one thing I was able to remember was that we had kissed each other behind the shed. But why hadn’t he ever said anything about it when we were back in school together, after…?

This was the first event that started to change my life.

Quite a bit of time passed after we left Las Vegas. I went on with my life. Starsky and I spent more and more time together.
The nightmares returned, and the voice kept getting louder. I figured out why. I wasn’t being good, the way I had been taught so long ago. I started looking at Stasky the way I'd look at the women I dated. I would try hard not to, because I knew this was wrong. I knew that when I admired the way Starsky walked, I would get headaches and wouldn’t sleep. When I did sleep, the voice would repeat, “Fry the fairy right out of your head.”

I am not gay, I am not! I love women.

I started dating hot and heavy. I fell in love with Abby. She was a sweet, person, beautiful, but I always put Starsky and the job in front of her needs. She ended up being raped by a criminal who had a vendetta against me.
Abby suffered because of me. She left me.
Then there was Gillian. I always asked myself why I picked a hooker to love. Why do the hookers always like me? She was taken from me, too. She was trying to get away from hooking, but really it was because of me and my job. It always is.

A one night stand with crazy Diana was next. After that, I was just dating for sex, because that’s what real men do, right? Straight men sleep with women, and not their beautiful male partner.

My life started to fall apart. I started spending less time with Starsky. I was so mean to him sometimes. I grew my hair out. I think Starsky secretly liked it, because he’d often run his fingers through my hair when he put his arm across the seat while we were driving.
I stopped caring about how I looked. I realize now that I was suffering from depression. I had just stopped caring, it was too painful. I just wanted the pain to stop. Sometimes at night, I would get wasted and think about killing myself.
If Starsky knew this, he would have killed me first. I knew that I would hurt the one person who never lied to me, never hurt me. Starsky was the one person who never left me, and the only person that I could trust. He’s the one person I love.
God, it hurts so much to love him. I am not a fairy, I can’t be. I have to be good. I don’t ever want to be put in that white room ever again.
I won’t ever let that happen to me again.

The next major change in my life happened last night:
“Hutch, I love you, I’m in love with you,” Starsky said when we were sitting close together on the couch, drinking some good California wine

I have always felt something for Starsky. I’ve always wanted to touch him—and we did often. I love how he smells, and the way his voice sounds. I want to be with him all the time. I would really be content to be with him forever, but that voice has started in my head, and it is getting louder and louder. It hurts, taunting me, telling me lies, and I just wanted it to stop.

I sat there and stared at him. I could tell he was worried

”Hutch, babe, I know this probably comes as a shock to you," Starsky said. "Because we both never really swung that way, but for a while now, I've felt the attraction between us has gone in a different direction." He stopped and tentatively touched my hand with a shy smile. "We've been together more than ever, and seeing women less. Hell, Hutch, I've always loved you, I want you.”

I wanted to cry. I wanted him so badly, I couldn’t even breathe.

”Dammit, Hutch, say something,” Starsky said breathlessly. "Tell me you hate me, tell me no, just talk to me.”

"S-s-s-starsk I I have to go now I need to be alone, to to think,” I said as I ran out of Starsky’s, leaving my gun and jacket behind.
Later that night, the phone rang, and I knew who it was. I picked it up full of dread, hating to hear the hurt that I caused in Starsky's voice.

“I’m sorry, Hutch," Starsky whispered into the phone. "Please don’t leave me. Let’s pretend this night never happened. We’re just best friends, Hutch, okay?” Starsky pleaded.
"Starsky, come over tomorrow night. I have some things I need to tell you." My heart was pounding, but I had to be honest with him. "Don’t worry, partner. Everything is going to be all right. I think.”
Good night, Starsky.

Starsky thinks I don’t want him. He’s wrong there, but he isn’t a woman. I was forced to believe that it’s supposed to be a man hugging and kissing a woman. When I allow my mind to go to that place where I am hugging and kissing Starsky, my body responds as it would for a female. Suddenly, I break out in a sweat and feel sick. I hear that voice booming in my head… I hate my father

Tomorrow night, I am going to tell Starsky what happened to me in 1958.

I do love him. I just need help. I hurt so badly when I think of what my parents did to me. I need to ask them why, but they are old and sickly now. With Starsky to help me, I know we can get past the torture that shaped my teens, my whole life, because nothing is stronger than me and thee.

I tried to sleep, but it was futile. The worry that my only source of happiness might leave me, and that the voice in my head would come back louder than ever, made sure that sleep wasn’t going to happen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I was a total wreck. I'd already had way too much to drink, but I needed some liquid courage if I was going to get through this.

He knocked on the door. He never knocks on the door. Poor baby, I’d really hurt him.
“Come in, Starsky” I yelled.

“Hi,” he said timidly.

“Hi, yourself." I put on a brave face and felt like a complete coward. "Come on in and grab a beer. I’m already way a head of you,” I said smiling, holding up a bottle of Bud.

Starsky grabbed two beers and start down on one end of the couch. I sat at the other end, as far away as I could be from him on the same piece of furniture.

“Hutch…” Starsky started to say, but I cut him off.

“No, Starsky, don’t say anything. Just sit and listen to me, babe. I have to tell you something that I’ve never told anyone. After hearing it, you might have a totally different view of me,” I said, already getting choked up and wondering how I was ever going to get through this.

“Hutch, I love you. There is nothing that you could say to change how I feel about you,” Starsky said.

“Just listen, okay?” I pleaded.

“Sure, babe, it's all right, just tell me,” Starsky said, looking so beautiful.

"It all started in 1958. Starsk, I can’t remember too much about being 15, because…" I choked, the words sticking in my throat. "Because I did something that was so bad, that I made my Father really angry at me."

“Oh, God…this is so hard,” I said. I had to get up and move. I felt like throwing up, but I had to do this if I was ever going to have peace. I can’t stand to see Starsky hurting.

“Hutch, are you all right?” He started to stand up and come to me.

“Don’t!" I pleaded, "Just bear with me. This is very painful for me to talk about, but I promise that I will tell you all I know about that time."

I took a deep breath and told him everything. About my dad finding me kissing Jack Mitchell behind the shed, and how angry he was. I told him about the white rooms and about the pictures and the pain. I told him about the man who told me that he would fry the fairy right out of my head as he shocked my brain. I told him about the nightmares, and the headaches, and that I did love him so much. But that I was afraid that I could never love him because of all that happened to me.
I continued talking until I looked over at Starsky. He was sitting there crying silently. There were tears flowing down his face. I went over and hugged him.
It really threw me to see Starsky cry. He gets angry and silly and serious, but rarely have I ever seen him cry. The only times I can really remember him crying were when Terri died, and when Rosey left him. Those tears were brief, and then he’d put his protective mask on, the one he’s so good at wearing.

I hugged him tightly. I forgot about myself and my pain. All I could think about was Starsky.
Oh, how I love this man. I have caused him such pain.
I love you," I whispered. "I am sorry, so very sorry that I hurt you." I stroked his dark curls ."And caused you so much distress."

Starsky looked up at me “Hutch, I love you. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I will never leave you alone. We will get through this together.”

For the longest time, we just sat there holding each other.

Finally, Starsky broke the silence, “Hutch, what happened to you is barbaric. We’re going to go see your father. He should pay for what he’s done to you. He’s the sick bastard,” Starsky said with hatred in his eyes.

“Starsky, what if I am just crazy and imagined all of this?" I asked nervously. "Besides, my father is old and not well. W-w-what good would it do to confront him now?” I was hoping he would change his mind. Nothing scared me more than seeing the man who had set all this in motion. My father had treated me more cruelly than the worst criminal I had ever faced. What if he found out that I loved Starsky and had me committed to that place again?

“I’m scared, Starsk…" I admitted, feeling ashamed. "I am a grown man, but I am scared. I can’t go back there again to that place. It would kill me.”

“Don’t worry, nothing is going to happen to you," Starsky promised, determination on his face. "You need answers, Hutch. We need to ask your father why he did this to his only son." He got up to pace, smacking one fist into his palm. "He needs to pay. He's gotten away with this far too long." Starsky grabbed my hand and pulled me off the couch. "I will be with you every step of the way. I might not even wear my gun while we talk to him.” He looked into my eyes. “Hutch, you are staying with me tonight, and every night from now on.”

My heart was pounding, from fear and his love. “Starsky, I don’t know if I can handle this."

“No sex, babe, just sleeping. I just want to hold you and keep you safe," Starsky said as he led me into the bedroom. "If you have one of those nightmares, I'll wake you up and prove to you that you are loved." He touched my chest, directly over my heart. "Our love is real. Together, we can overcome all the brainwashing ever done to you, my love.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Starsky booked us on the first available plane to Duluth. The flight over was intense, my stomach was all tied up in knots. I had to have a couple of drinks just to calm down.

When the plane arrived, we rented a car and headed toward my old family home. Starsky drove, but he held my hand the whole way. We were both really tense. This visit wasn’t going to be pleasant.

I was concerned that Starsky and my father would get into a fight. They are both very strong willed men.

“Starsky, promise me that you’ll let me handle this, okay?" I asked. "I need to be the one who faces him. He needs to see that he hasn’t totally broken me.”

“Aw, babe, he hasn’t broken you. You’re the strongest, bravest man I know," Starsky said softly, keeping one eye on the road. "You've done great things with your life. You're a good person, Hutch. Don’t ever forget that." Starsky gave me an encouraging grin. "He was wrong, you were not. When I think about what he did to you...” Starsky shivered. “Just the thought of the torture that you had to endure, because of your father's insecurities and bigotry, makes me sick.”

Starsky turned the last corner and we pulled up into the driveway of my parents' home. The house was big and intimidating, just like my father always seemed to be. My mother has been sickly for the last few years. I hoped we wouldn’t have to face her.
This had to be just between me and my father. I'd realized long ago that my mother was a puppet on Father’s string. She was kind, but she'd never been there for me.

“Come on, Starsk, it’s now or never.” I got out of the car and walked toward the door before I lost my nerve. Starsky was right beside me, giving me strength.

I rang the doorbell. Mrs. Young opened the door. The housekeeper had been with my parents for years. She had changed very little. She was short and stout with a very kind face. The only difference was that her dark hair was now peppered with gray, and there were more lines in her face.

"Mr. Kenneth, come in," the old woman smiled graciously, but there was shock on her face. "I’m surprised to see you. Did your father know that you were coming and forget to inform me?”

“No, Mrs. Young, this visit is going to surprise him, too. May we come in?” I asked.

“Of course, you don’t even have to ask,” she said, gesturing for us to enter.

“Mrs. Young, this is my partner David Starsky.”

“Nice to meet you, sir, after all these years,” she said.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Starsky looked uncomfortable in my parents' formal home.

“Why don’t you both wait in the den while I go get your father? He’s having his breakfast in his room," she said, walking down the hall. "I’ll bring you and Mr. Starsky some refreshments soon.”

It was nerve-racking to sit and wait. I had the worst headache and was sick to my stomach. Starsky must have sensed something was wrong because he started rubbing my neck. When I looked up, there was an old man standing in front of me who looked like my father. It had been twelve years since I had seen him, he'd aged. I immediately stood up.
“Hello, Father.”

“Hello, Kenneth," my father said sternly. "This is certainly a surprise. I gather that this is Mr. Starsky, the partner I’ve heard about, but never met?”

“Yes, sir, this is David Starsky, my partner and best friend,” I said with a feeling of pride.

Starsky replied curtly, “Mr. Hutchinson.”

“Have a seat and tell me why you’re here. I’m sure that it isn’t purely for pleasure, since Kenneth doesn’t visit us anymore.” My father almost sounded hurt, but I knew him better than that.

Starsky and I sat on the love seat together. Pretty ironic, huh?

My father sat to the right of us in “his” chair.

“Father, how is mother?” I asked.

“She is in bed most of the time now." He frowned, as if annoyed by her frailty. "She is weak and very forgetful. Mrs. Young is good with her. Would you like to see her?”

While we were talking, Mrs. Young brought in some coffee and cookies. The shortbread was her specialty, they looked wonderful, but there was no way I could imagine eating anything then. I guess no one else was hungry, because when she offered to serve us, we all said no thank you.

"I'll leave you alone," Mrs. Young said. "Just ring, Mr. Hutchinson, if you need anything."

I waited until she was out of the room. “Father, I'd rather wait ‘til some other time to visit with mother. I came here to talk to you about some very unpleasant things, and I need to speak to you alone,” I said.

“Well then, say what is on your mind, Kenneth,” my father said with grave authority.

My palms were sweating and my heart was beating so fast, I was so afraid I would pass out. Please, God, let me face him like a man.

“Father, tell me what happened to me in 1958, when I was 15 years old. I need to know everything. Don’t lie and tell me nothing happened or that I am crazy and foolish." With each word, I could feel my anger increasing. "I am not a little child anymore, and will not be intimidated by you.” I got out the last part on one breath.

Starsky moved his leg closer until his thigh was touching mine. I could almost hear him say," we’re in this together, I love you."

For the first time in my life, my father seemed rattled. I don’t know what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it. He turned a sickly grey and grabbed for his chest.

I jumped up and went to him, putting my hand on his arm. He is still my father. “Are you all right? What’s the matter?” I asked.

He held up his hand and waved me away. “I’m fine. This is just a spell, I get them every now and then. Would you pour me some water?" he asked

He drank his water and the color came back in his face. He looked at me. “Why are you bringing this up now? So that you and you homosexual partner can rub my face in my failure? So that you can flaunt your disgusting actions in front of me?" he said in the most hateful way.

Starsky had been very quiet up to this point, but before I knew it, he was on his feet and right up my father's face. "You evil son of a bitch, how dare you turn this back on Hutch? You're the one who took a young boy, your only son, and treated him worse than shit!"

"Stop it, please…Both of you!"

Starsky backed off a little and looked over at me. “Sorry, Hutch, I just can’t stand to hear him talk to you like that.”

“Now, sit down please, babe.” I said

I had never loved Starsky more than I did right then.

“Tell me everything, Father," I said again. "If you don’t, I will start investigating what happened to me. I will talk to Jack Mitchell’s father. I will ask around your congregation, and see if they know anything. I will even go to the mental hospital and look at their records." Just planning out the steps of a criminal investigation filled me with new determination. This is something I knew how to do. "If you don’t want me to bring attention to this family, I suggest that you tell me now.”

“If we must dig up the past," the old man sneered. "I always suspected that my son was a queer. You were way too sensitive." He shook his head, obviously remembering my childhood. "I had to make you play sports. You wanted to read all the time, or muck about with your plants."

“Excuse me, father, I didn’t realize that all gardners were queer,” I said sarcastically. "I guess Juan, who's been doing your gardening for years, is gay. Don’t tell that to his wife and six kids."

“Oh, please, spare me your dramatics, Kenneth,” my father said. Then came Jack Mitchell. You two were always together, touching and laughing." He grimaced with disgust. "When your mother tried to set you up with some good Christian girls, you preferred to be with Jack. Then one day, I was out in the yard and thought I saw something behind the shed. It was you and Jack.”

He paused as if unable to go on; the revulsion on his face was like a knife that pierced right through me

"He kissed you, and you were loving it," he said in disgust.

“God! And you call yourself a father,” Starsky said between clinched teeth.

"Mitchell tried to tell me that it was his idea, and that it was the first time, but I knew you two were lying." He bowed his head wearily, and I could see clearly how old my father was. "I had to help you. Don’t you understand? My son was doing nasty things with other boys, and your soul was in jeopardy."

I just sat there listening, unable to say anything, afraid that I would break into a million pieces.

“I sent Jack home, and threatened to tell his father if he said a word about what happened." The old man poured a cup of coffee and stared moodily into the depths. “I placed a call to Mike Smith who was a councilor out at the mental hospital. We often worked together when one of our flock was sent there and needed spiritual guidance. He told me about this Aversion Therapy that they were using at the hospital." He took a drink nodding, obviously still convinced that what he had done was the right thing. "It was quite popular over in Europe. This was a new method used to cure homosexuality."

Starsky was worried about me, I could see it in his eyes, but I was still so stunned with what I was hearing that I couldn't defend myself.

“So you allowed Hutch to be used as an experiment? What if it had killed him?” Starsky asked furiously.


"It really did seem to work," my father said confidently.

I felt sick again, and filled with righteous anger.

"When you came home," he continued. "You were so good. You didn’t mention Jack that way again, and even when you were around him or any other boys, you didn't react like a faggot toward them.”

“Father, do you know what they did to me in that place?” I yelled, fire burning in my belly.

I couldn’t help it. I started to cry. “They electrocuted me while showing me pictures of men together." I struggled to speak, but this had to be said. "It hurt so badly, they fried my brain! Father, they fried my brain." I had to gulp a breath and felt Starsky's hand on my back, supporting me all the way. I was only 15 years old. "It really was Jack's idea, I remember everything now. It really was the first time I had ever kissed a man, and you know what, Father, I liked it. I have never ever kissed another guy since." I swiped at the tears on my face, sitting up straighter with my partner beside me. "Why did you hate me so much?”

I wasn’t able to stop crying. Starsky wrapped his arms around me and rubbed his hand up and down my back.

Starsky glared at my father. “What you did to Hutch hurt him, not just then, but every day of his life. Do you know he has horrible nightmares and bad headaches?"

Starsky kept one hand on my back but took a threatening step toward the old man. "He thinks he is no good, that he is not worthy of love and happiness. You, sir, did this to him, and I will never forgive you." His voice rang out like a bell, calming something inside me. I wanted to listen to him forever. "You call yourself a man of God! Well, the God I worship is a God of love and compassion. No, sir, your god is the devil!" Starsky helped me to my feet. “Come on, Hutch, let's go home.”

We started to walk towards the door when I stopped and turned around. I looked at my father one last time. "I don't know if that first kiss with Jack would have led me to be with another man, but because of that aversion therapy, I couldn't get that kiss—and what you did to me, out of my mind," I said, feeling a confidence I'd never experienced before, because I had Starsky at my side. "I just want you to know that I love Starsky."

Just saying it out loud for the first time felt so incredible, I had to say it again. "I’m in love with him. He is the finest man I have ever known. Good bye." I glanced up the stairs, but had no desire to stay in this house a moment longer. "Tell mom I said good bye.”

Those were the last words I ever said to my father. I never plan to see him again

My life is with Starsky, Starsky is my life. It took a lot of time and patience on Starsky’s part, but now I let myself love him. The voice in my head has stopped for the most part. Every once in a while, when I've had a rough day at work and I’m stressed, I dream. Starsky is always there to wake me up, tell me I’m all right and that he loves me.

The other night, after we made love, I was just about to doze off, relaxed and content.

Starsky whispered in my ear. “You know, Hutch, I’m thankful he wasn’t able to fry all the fairy out of you!" He chuckled and pulled me closer.

"I love you, too, Starsk!"