Hutch was sitting at his desk when Starsky entered the squad room. Hutch knew his friend would not pick him up so he had driven to work by himself. As usual, the brunet was late—a fact that had Hutch nervous over the last hour. Hutch noted the brunet was starting to look impossibly thin, his normally tight jeans now almost lose. Starsky sat down, barely acknowledging his presence. Hutch couldn’t remember when he’d seen his friend look so tired. He was literally falling apart right in front of his eyes.

Hutch stood abruptly, coming to stand at Starsky’s side.

“You look terrible,” he said, putting a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.” Starsky said, grabbing a sheet of paper and putting it in the typewriter.

Hutch sat on the side of the desk. “You can’t go on like this forever. You need to see someone, talk to someone. If not me, then….”

Starsky looked sharply at him, the dark circles under his eyes evident as he spoke, “You mean a shrink, Buddy. Is that’s what you’re suggesting. Cause I can’t sleep, I should see a shrink?”

Hutch tried to calm his friend. “Starsky, you should see yourself. Dark circles under your bloodshot eyes, clothes that look like you slept in them. You look like death warmed over.”

Starsky abruptly stood, his chair clattering loudly to the floor. All eyes were on him as he exited the squad room, narrowly bumping into Dobey as he hastily exited.

Hutch stood in stunned silence, looking at the quick departure of his best friend, worry evident on his face. Dobey approached, laying a concerned hand on the blond. “Son, I think we need to talk.”

Hutch followed Dobey into his office.

Starsky rushed to the men’s room. His heart was racing as he stood before the mirror looking at his reflection. He leaned against the sink for support. Hutch was right. He looked like death warmed over. He turned on the faucet, and splashed some cold water on his face. He was so tired. Unbelievably tired. It was as if every bit of strength had been drained from him. He thought about the previous night. Morgan had clearly been standing in his room and he couldn’t move. Was she a ghost? Was she planning to kill him or slowly drive him mad? Or was he already mad, imagining a woman who had died because of his inability to save her? He looked down at his hands. They were shaking.

Starsky grabbed a paper towel and dried his face. Should he tell Hutch? The thought frightened him, telling Hutch meant that he really was losing it--that he was insane. Still, Hutch would know what to do, and he was too tired to even think at this point. The only sleep he’d had in the past two nights was after the visitations. He had never seen her leave the room. His body had always remained paralyzed while she was there. And then he would go into a deep sleep, only to awaken a few hours later. He had to tell Hutch. He was a danger to him on the streets and he couldn’t just walk away without telling him what was going on. He headed back to the squad room.

Hutch was in Dobey’s office when Starsky returned so he sat at his desk to type some reports. He was so tired that he had problems keeping his eyes open. Still he worked desperately to complete his task. He looked around the squad room and noticed the fleeting stares of the other officers. He ignored them, returning to his task. And then he watched as the room slowly dissolved. Starsky looked around to discover all of the officers had disappeared and he was alone. Fear creped up his spine. He stood abruptly, his eyes desperately searching for someone, anyone. He headed for Dobey’s office. Hutch would know what to do, he thought desperately. And then he saw her, standing by the door. It was Morgan. He backed up as she slowly approached, the anger evident in her eyes. The decay even more pronounced than before.

“Why did you let me die?” she asked, walking menacingly towards him. “It is time for you to come with me.”

Hutch was seated in Dobey’s office. The captain had understood as Hutch explained the obvious deterioration of Starsky since the accident.

“I don’t know what to do, Captain. He won’t talk to me. I’ve tried. If anything, he avoids me more.”

“What do you think is causing it?” Dobey said.

Hutch ran a nervous hand through his hair, “Don’t know, possibly guilt. He blames himself, even though it was Morgan who drove the car into the lake. She committed suicide and almost took him with her. I’ve told him that. He’s read the report.”

Dobey stood and got a cup of water, returning to his desk and drinking quickly. “Maybe, we need to find out why she did it, son. Maybe that will get rid of his guilt?”

Hutch looked gratefully at the large man. Starsky was lucky to have a man so concerned about him. Dobey was more than a captain. He was family, almost like a father.

“Captain. I need to get him off the streets,” he said slowly, closing his eyes as he spoke.

“That bad?”

Hutch took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That bad.”

Dobey sighed, looking sadly at the blond as he spoke. “I’ll make it an order, and also that he talks to the department shrink.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Hutch left Dobey’s office only to discover that Starsky had left.