by Otterlady
The phone was ringing. Starsky, juggling his grocery bags, fought to fit the right key into the lock. Succeeding in getting the door open, he grabbed the receiver as the phone rang one more time. Breathlessly he grunted "Yeah?"
"Well, Hi to you too, Starsk." His partner, Hutch laughed into his ear.
"Sorry, Hutch. Couldn't get the damn door open. Was afraid the phone would stop ringing before I got to it."
"It's a good thing you got that 'damn' door open, I was just about to hang up. And I wouldn't be able to call again 'till this evening. I'm going to be out of town for a few days, Starsky. I have to go home to Duluth. My Aunt Lillian, Mom's sister died.."
"Oh, jeez, Hutch, I'm sorry." Starsky interrupted.
"Thanks. We weren't very close. I haven't seen her in years. For some reason she made me her executor and I've got to go there to take care of a few things. Shouldn't take more than a couple of days, through. She didn't have any family, other than us and I doubt her estate is very large. I've already called Dobey and he okayed everything. Sorry to leave you without a partner, you'll probably get desk duty." Hutch tried to sound contrite and failed miserably.
"Thanks a lot, buddy. You sure you don't need a co-executor or something?" Starsky asked, only half-kidding. There was little he disliked more than desk duty with its emphasis on paperwork.
"Yeah, well if I could I'd take you along, pal, but I don't think Dobey would go for it." Hutch laughed. "Anyway, can you water my plants and take in my mail while I'm gone? "
"Of course. Do you want me to take you to the airport?"
"Actually, I'm at the airport now. I was able to get a ticket on the next flight. I tried calling you but you'd already gone out, so I grabbed a cab. Didn't want to leave my car in the parking lot. You never know what might happen to it."
"Someone might think that it was a abandoned car and tow it." Starsky couldn't resist teasing his friend about his slightly decrepit car.
"Ha, ha. Very amusing. Got to go, Starsk, they're calling my flight. I'll call you as soon as I know what's happening." Hutch said. "Do you think you can manage to stay out of trouble without me around for a few days?"
"Humph, I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer, smart guy. Say Hi to your parents for me and tell your Mom I'm sorry about her sister."
"Sure. Got to go Starsk. Take care buddy." The phone clicked in Starsky's ear as Hutch quickly rang off. Hutch didn't like long good-byes.
Starsky looked around his apartment. It was going to be strange not having Hutch around for awhile. They were so used to just hanging out together that, unless one or the other had a date or something, they were practically inseparable. Well, there was no use in dwelling on that. He did have a date tonight and needed to get cracking on his preparations. Lynne, the pretty officer who worked in robbery had finally succumbed to his charms (read persistence) and agreed to coming over for dinner. First order of business was housecleaning.
He hummed a little song to himself as he got out the cleaning supplies. They'd been so busy the last while that things had slid badly in the neatness department. There were newspapers and other stuff strewn about on the floor near the couch and on the coffee table. The shelves were dusty and the floor was in desperate need of vacuuming. His own plants looked a little neglected and was that a cobweb up there above the bathroom door?
*****
Hutch threw his overnight bag into the compartment above the seats and settled in his assigned space, Row 10, aisle. Taking off his jacket, he slid it between himself and the arm of the seat. Just as he was searching for the end of the seatbelt he became aware of a tall, blonde man, carrying a briefcase, standing in the aisle beside him.
"Sorry, I need to squeeze by you." The man smiled politely at his seatmate. "Unless you don't mind switching places? I really don't like window seats," he laughed a little self-consciencely. "I guess I'm a bit acrophobic."
"Sure, no problem. I've a friend who doesn't like heights, either." Hutch stood and sat back down in the window seat.
"Thanks, you don't know how much I appreciate it. The last time I got stuck in a window seat I was sick the whole trip."
"Then I guess that makes two of us, who'll be happier." Hutch teased. Waiting until the other man got himself strapped in, the detective held out his hand, "I'm Ken Hutchinson. Are you going all the way to Minnesota?" He asked conversationally.
"Ed Larson. No, I'm getting off in Kansas City. I've got a business meeting there and then I'm on to various points east." The other man shook hands and the two made small talk as the plane taxied to the runway. Larson tried to get his briefcase under the seat in front of him, but it wouldn't fit.
"Here, let's slid it under the other seat until we get airborne, then we can figure out what's the matter under there." Hutch offered.
The businessman handed the case to his seatmate. "I'd put it in the overhead with my carryon, but I've got a lot of paperwork to go over before we get to Kansas City and I wanted it easily available. I don't like fighting with those hatches while the plane's in the air." He stated, ruefully.
"Boy, you really do have it bad. Must make all the travelling you have to do, miserable." The detective sympathized. Both men chuckled over Larson's phobia and sat back as the pilot announced final clearance for take-off.
****
Starsky was chasing a rather rambunctious dust-bunny that was hiding under the couch. He finally caught the escapee and was rising from his nearly prone position when he thought he heard his name being called. Turning off the vacuum and glancing around he listened carefully. Laughing at himself for imagining things, he went about putting away the vacuum in the closet. Suddenly, a sense of vertigo hit hard. Leaning against the closet doorjamb, he waited for his stomach to stop doing backflips. "Guess I shouldn't have missed lunch." Starsky muttered to himself. Checking his watch he was surprised to see it was almost 2 o'clock. "Sheez, no wonder I'm dizzy. I'm weak from hunger!" Deciding a break was in order, he went in search of a snack.
After making himself a quick pj sandwich, Starsky started preparing dinner. The market had had a great sale on tomatoes and hamburger so he had decided to make a big pot of his old standby spaghetti sauce. What didn't get used up tonight could be frozen and meals for the week would be taken care of. He hated eating out by himself and now, with Hutch gone, he knew that there'd be a lot of dinners at home.
*****
The plane took off smoothly and the two men set preparing for the long flight ahead. Larson retrieved his briefcase from under the seat in front of Hutch. Pulling down the little table he proceeded to take out several papers. Hutch watched in mild amusement as the other man searched through the case's compartments for something. Larson glanced over at Hutch woefully, "I think I need another set of hands. Would you mind holding a few things till I get organized here?"
"Not at all. I'm used to helping with disorganized paperwork. You should see my partner's filing system some time." Hutch chuckled. Taking a handful of assorted papers from Larson, he placed them on his lap. The two men started handing papers back and forth. Eventually Hutch ended up with most of the contents of the briefcase in his possession.
The businessman glanced over at his seatmate, who was patiently hanging on to the mass of assorted objects. "Usually I'm better prepared than this," Larson said. "I wasn't supposed to be going on this trip but the exec who was came down with a terrible head cold and couldn't fly. I got drafted at the last minute. Boy, was my wife steamed! We had plans to drive up to Carmel this weekend to visit her folks. Anna may not talk to me for a couple of weeks. Oh, well. Guess I'll just have to see about getting her a real nice present some where on this journey. Here, let me have those two bound ones." He started taking back some of the papers from Hutch. Soon all Hutch had left were the folder of airline ticket's and some other odds and ends.
Just as the last items were being handed back, the pilot came on the intercom.
"Attention, passengers. We are having some problems with our landing gear. There is no reason to worry, just a small malfunction in the retraction system. We are circling back to land at the Orange County Airport. Once on the ground, we'll have the problem fixed and on our way as quickly as possible. Please return all trays to their upright position, store carryons and fasten seatbelts. We will be landing in about 5 minutes."
"Oh jeez, I hate when this happens." Larson exclaimed unhappily. In his distress he fumbled with the packet of tickets Hutch had just handed him and they hit the floor at Hutch's feet. Trying to grab the folder, the two men managed to kick it under the seat. As Hutch was reaching to recover them, the stewardess came by and told Larson to stow his briefcase as they were making final descent. Quickly obliging, he stuffed the case under the seat in front of Hutch. Hutch had managed to pick up the tickets and in the hurry to fasten his seatbelt, stuck the folder in his shirt pocket.
The plane landed with only slight bouncing. As they were taxiing off of the runway, Hutch happened to glance out the window. He was startled to see a small plane bearing down on them from the sky. Instantly realizing that there was no way that the larger jet would be able to clear the turn off of the tarmac before the smaller plane clipped them, he turned to his seatmate to warn him to brace for the impact.
All hell broke loose. The sound of grinding metal, the frightened screams of the passengers, the smell of spilled fuel oil filled the compartment. The whole plane shuddered with the impact and overhead compartment hatches released. Carryon luggage, backpacks and other objects flew about the cabin. The plane continued to move down the tarmac as the pilots wrestled for control. The jet finally came to a grinding halt when it slammed into one of the huge light standards shearing off a wing.
Hutch's last coherent thought before blackness descended was of Starsky . . ..
******
Starsky had spent the last few hours putting the finishing touches on both his apartment and the dinner. As he stood stirring the bubbling sauce he thought about how impressed Lynne was going to be with it. He had a nice bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. Knowing Starsky's taste (or lack there of) in wines, Hutch had encouraged him to buy this particular vintage when he learned of his partner's date. He also had the makings of a salad, (Hutch would be so proud, he chuckled to himself) some crusty French bread and for dessert he had picked up some Spumoni ice cream. His philosophy was that you could never go wrong with ice cream. He had even gone so far as to put candles on the table and real napkins. Lynne would never know what hit her.
The doorbell interrupted his self-congratulatory thoughts. He turned down the sauce and sauntered over to the door. Upon opening it, he was surprised to see Captain Dobey standing there. His usual hangdog expression was even more pronounced and Starsky was dismayed to see that the man's eyes looked red, as if he was holding back unshed tears.
"Captain, you look terrible. What's the matter?" He quickly ushered the older man into his apartment.
"Starsky, there's been an accident…" Dobey was having trouble getting the words out.
"Is it your family? What happened?" Starsky was really starting to get a bad feeling.
"No, no, it's not my family. There was a plane crash at the Orange County Airport. The plane had rerouted there because of some mechanical problem. They had just landed when a small plane hit them." Captain Dobey was reciting events with absolutely no inflection in his voice. Starsky's bad feeling turned into near panic.
"What are you telling me, Cap? Hutch's plane left hours ago…it couldn't possibly be his" Starsky's own voice trailed off.
"It took them several hours to sort out the injured. There weren't many dead, about 20 or so, mostly in one section. The accident happened just before 2 o'clock."
Starsky had to lean against the back of the couch.
"They finally made identifications of the dead. Starsky… David, I don't know how to say this, but to say it…" Dobey placed a trembling hand on Starsky's arm. The younger man stood frozen. Hearing his first name, he knew what was coming was bad.
"I'm sorry, David. Hutch is dead."
******
He was totally numb. Pulling away from Captain Dobey's grasp, he walked slowly to the kitchen. Noticing that the spaghetti sauce was bubbling and throwing little splashes all over the stove, he turned it off. Using a dishtowel, he took the pot from the stove and placed it in the sink. He stood there for a few minutes, staring into the pot. Not feeling. Not thinking. Just breathing.
Captain Dobey watched Starsky, waiting for some reaction. He really didn't know what to do. He felt great affection for these two officers, although he would never have admitted it to them. He knew how close they were, how their lives were so interwoven that sometimes it was hard to tell which was which. Starsky and Hutch had always been like a single entity, StarskyHutch, and now half of that entity was gone. He was afraid that the other wouldn't survive the sundering.
Starsky finally turned towards his Captain. His face was still, no expression, nothing. He felt detached, somehow. He knew he should be feeling grief, pain, something. The rational part of his brain knew that he was probably in shock. That when it wore off, he would fall apart. But right now there were things that needed to be done. Right now, he felt nothing but a strange sense of calm.
"I have to make a phone call." He said in an even voice.
"I called his parents before I came over here." Captain Dobey replied, still watching the younger man closely. Waiting.
"Oh. Good. I have to call my date and cancel dinner."
"Do you want me to do that?"
"No. Thank you."
Starsky knew that Lynne would still be at work. He placed the call to her extension and stood, totally still, waiting until she picked up. "Hi, Lynne, Dave here. I'm sorry I have to cancel tonight. Maybe we can do it some other time." Not waiting for her to answer, he hung up. No emotion, he could have been a robot for all the feeling that had been in his voice. Dobey decided he would find out who the woman was and explain things. Later. Right now he knew that he had better stick close to Starsky. And still he waited.
Cop instincts kicked in. Cool, analytical. No emotion, just a need for facts. "Tell me what you know Captain. How did it happen?" The voice passionless.
"From what they told me, he was still strapped in his seat. Apparently a lot of stuff was tossed around in the cabin and he was struck in the head by something. He probably never even knew what happened. They used his identification to confirm…."
"When can we go and get him?"
Dobey gazed compassionately at his young detective. "They plan to start releasing the bodies tomorrow. From what I understand, they're still trying to notify all of the families of both the injured and deceased. The hospitals are swamped at the moment and some of the injured may not survive."
The information was absorbed, registered and filed. Starsky seemed to notice for the first time that Dobey was still standing. Gesturing towards a chair at the kitchen table, he indicated that the other man should sit. Taking the offered chair, the Captain ran his hands over his face in a gesture of complete hopelessness. A glass of water appeared in front of him. Quickly looking up, he was met by that same flat gaze.
Starsky looked away. He couldn't look at his Captain's pain. It meant nothing to him. It had to. He needed to remain totally unfeeling. As long as he could keep the grief away, it wouldn't be true. As long as he didn't give in he wouldn't have to believe that Hutch was gone. Wandering over to the window, he was mildly surprised to see that it was getting dark. He had totally lost track of time. 'It must be after 7.' The thought wandered through. No, don't think, don't feel.
"David?" Captain Dobey's voice sounded far away, like he was hearing it through a wall. "David, I think you should come home with me. Spend the night with us and you and I'll go first thing in the morning and make arrangements."
"No, Captain. I'll be okay here." Here where he and Hutch had spent so much time, watched TV, played monopoly, laughed…. No, don't think. Don't feel.
"I really think that it would be for the best," Captain Dobey started to say.
"Maybe you're right. It would save time in the morning. I'll just get a couple of things and we'll go." Starsky moved towards his bedroom like a man sleep-walking. Each step precise, careful. Without any connection to him.
Gathering a few items without really paying attention, he shoved them in a gym bag and came back into the living room. While he'd been in the bedroom, the Captain had been busy. He had quickly called his wife and told her that he was bringing Starsky home. He had talked to her earlier when he had first heard about Hutch and she had told him then to bring him. After hanging up, he had taken the pot of sauce from the sink and was trying to make room in the fridge for it.
"Leave it. I won't be needing it." The indifferent voice said.
"It would be a shame to waste it." Dobey replied.
"I don't want it." A tiny crack in the wall. Don't think. Don't feel.
Dobey looked closely at the stiff figure and realized that he had better not push it. Placing the pot on the counter, he turned off the kitchen light and came over to Starsky. He reached for the gym bag and Starsky released it without a murmur. It just wasn't important enough to even register. He silently waited while Dobey grabbed a jacket from the coat rack and gathered up the keys from where they laid on the table by the door. Following the older man to the sedan parked behind his Torino, he got in the passenger side. Staring straight ahead he sat and waited silently while Dobey threw the bag and jacket in the back seat and got in. He had to be reminded to buckle his seatbelt.
Starsky was so quiet on the trip to the Dobey house that the Captain had to glance over from time to time to make sure he was still there. He had never seen the usual fidgety detective so still. Not even when he had been poisoned and had lapsed into unconsciousness. He knew that when Starsky finally let go he had better be there to sweep up the pieces.
Edith Dobey was at the door before the two men had even made it out of the car. She made to hug Starsky but stopped when her husband shook his head. Getting a good look at the young man, she was surprised to see his stony expression. Mrs. Dobey had expected grief, tears almost anything but this cold, uncaring person she ushered into her house.
The children were in the living room, watching television. They had been told that there had been an accident and that Hutch had died. Being the children of a police officer, they knew that danger and even death was a possibility. Even at their young ages it was a fact of life, but not one easily accepted. When Starsky entered the living room, Rosie took one look at him and wrapped herself around him. She buried her face in his stomach and held on. He stood there for a moment, perfectly still. Then slowly, he placed his hands on Rosie's shoulders and pushed her away enough that he could kneel down to her height. He cupped her little face in the palm of his hand and wiped a tear away with his thumb. Gazing into her sad, brown eyes, his own blue ones filled with tears.
Grasping her in a hug, he sat down on the floor. Looking up at the two other adults and Cal, he could finally feel.
"Oh, God, Captain…. He's dead. Hutch is dead." The dam broke. Captain Dobey's waiting was over.
************
Starsky sat there, tears streaming down his face. Rosie had thrown her arms around his neck and was quietly weeping into his shoulder. He laid his cheek on her soft hair and just held her, his own over-powering grief blending with her innocent sympathy.
The parents let the two mourners comfort each other for a few minutes. Finally Captain Dobey crouched down beside them. Gently prying the little girl's hands loose from their firm grip around Starsky's neck, he pulled her into his own embrace. Standing up, he talked softly to her. Finally she nodded and indicated that she wanted down. Her father handed her his handkerchief and she wiped the tears from her face. Going to Starsky, who was now sitting with his forehead on his bent knees, she placed a kiss on his cheek.
"I've got to go to bed now, Uncle Dave. I love you." The tears were still evident in her slightly quavering voice.
Starsky tried valiantly to smile at the little girl. "I love you too, Rosie. Go to bed now and don't worry. I'll see you in the morning." He gave her a little hug. Watching as her mother gathered the two children and took them up to their beds; he couldn't help but wish that something as simple as 'going to bed' would make things better.
He knew that nothing would ever be better again.
Wiping his own tears from his face, Starsky stood. He looked at his Captain, eyes lost and dark from his pain. The older man wished that he could just gather him up like he had Rosie, but knew that neither man's dignity would stand for it. Settling for placing an arm about his shoulders he guided him to the couch. Starsky collapsed as if his legs were too weak to hold him.
"Can I get you something to eat, Starsky?" Dobey asked, not knowing what else to do to comfort him.
"I'm not hungry, thanks anyway, Captain." Starsky's voice was so low, so sad that it almost broke Dobey's heart. "I really don't think I could eat anything." Maybe never again.
"Do you want to talk?"
"Not yet, it's all just too much. I think the only thing I want to do is sleep." And maybe when I wake up, it will all have been just a bad dream. "Where's my bag?"
Retrieving the gym bag from the hallway, Dobey brought it to Starsky. It took the grieving man a moment to register the bag's presence. Rummaging through the contents, he was mildly surprised at what he had packed. He must have just picked up the first things he saw. There was an old t-shirt that he used when working on his car, a pair of jeans that should have been in the laundry and, luckily, some clean underwear. Finally, he just dumped the whole mess out on the couch. At the bottom he had stuffed a pair of clean jeans and shirt, so at least he'd be presentable tomorrow. God, tomorrow…. No don't even think about tomorrow.
Glancing up at his watching Captain, he tried to affect a grin, but failed miserably. "I seem to have gone off without a toothbrush."
"Don't worry about that, Starsky. We have spares. The kids have a habit of dumping them in toilets so we've learned the hard way."
After getting Starsky the required toothbrush and some towels and seeing him off to the bathroom, Dobey started to make up the couch for the night. Picking up the items from the gym bag, the Captain was dismayed to see Starsky's gun in amongst the clothes. Making a quick decision, he slipped the gun into his pocket. Although the detectives were supposed to be armed at all times, he felt it was prudent to keep this particular detective and his weapon apart. He believed that Starsky would hold himself together until after everything was taken care of, but he'd rather temptation was out of reach.
Edith came back down the stairs. It had taken awhile to get the children settled and asleep. Both Cal and Rosie were fond of their 'Uncle Dave and Uncle Ken' and it was hard for them to accept the death of one of their favorite people. Rosie had cried herself to sleep and Cal although making every effort to be stoic had looked a little misty when she had came to say goodnight. The mother in her wanted to make everything all right again, the logical woman knew that it was an impossible goal.
"Where's David?" She asked her husband.
"Getting ready for bed." He replied. "I don't know what to do for him, Edith, he's hurting so badly."
She came over and put her arms around him. Laying her head on his chest they just held each other for a moment, gathering strength from each other. "The only thing we can do for him, is to be there when he needs us. And he will need us. Tomorrow will be especially hard for him. We'll just have to be patient and respond to what happens as it happens."
Dobey looked down at his wife; "Did I ever tell you that you are a very special person, Edith? And I thank God every day for you?" He kissed her gently.
Just then Starsky came back into the room. Looking a little self-conscience for having caught his Captain in an intimate moment, he paused in the doorway.
Edith moving out of her husband's embrace went over to the young man and took his hand. "Harold tells me you want to go to bed now. Can I get you anything before you go to sleep?"
"No, thank you. I just want to sleep." And never wake up. "I'll be fine. I'm sorry to kick you two out of your own living room." Again he tried to smile, but it just wasn't in him.
"That's no problem at all, David. It's getting late and the children are up very early for school. Please feel that this is your home. If you want anything from the kitchen, please help yourself, if you need anything else, just ask."
"Thanks, Edith. I'll be fine."
She just looked at him for a moment, then sighed and leaned up to kiss his cheek, squeezed his hand and said good night.
Capt. Dobey clasped Starsky's shoulder as he went passed. He turned off all the lights, except for the lamp beside the couch. The couple went slowly off to bed, leaving their houseguest alone.
Starsky sat down on the couch, took off shoes and socks and the denim shirt he'd been wearing, leaving just his t-shirt and jeans. He lay down, pulling the blanket up to cover his chest and laid on his back staring at the ceiling. He tried not to think, but all he could see was Hutch's face.
It was something that he still could not totally bring himself to believe. His friend, his partner, gone. It was so stupid, how could it have happened this way? After all that they had been through together, the close calls they had over the years, how could it have happened this way? And there had been nothing he could have done to prevent it. Perhaps that was the hardest thing of all.
Finally, his tired body and exhausted mind took over and shut things down. It was not so much like sleep as it was total oblivion. But it was better than thinking.
****
Towards morning, the adult Dobey's were awakened by the sounds of an anguished voice crying out.
"Hutch - no - don't go in there - Hutch? Where are you -" Starsky's voice was not quite shouting but definitely getting louder.
Captain Dobey started to get out of bed, but his wife stopped him. "No, Harold, I'll go. I think he needs a Mother now more than a Captain. You'll have to help him tomorrow, let me help him tonight."
Queitly going down to the living room, Edith turned on the lamp. Starsky had tangled himself up in the blankets and was struggling in his sleep with them. He was whimpering and still calling out Hutch's name. Experienced from years of waking children from nightmare-laden sleep, Edith gently coaxed him awake. Bleary, tear-filled eyes opened. It took a couple of minutes for Starsky to come awake enough to recognize her. She helped him straighten out his blankets and sit up. Patting him on the arm, she left him, went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water.
Starsky sat huddled on the couch, lost in his misery. Edith sat down beside him. "David," offering him the glass. "Here, have some water." He didn't respond, not so much from ignoring her as simply not hearing. "David, drink this." The stern voice finally broke through and he took the offered glass. Taking a couple of sips, he handed it back and sighed heavily.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake anyone. I guess I was having a nightmare." He said ruefully.
"That's alright, David. You're allowed." Edith drew the side chair closer to the couch so that she could sit down near him. "After Harold's partner was killed, we spent a lot of sleepless nights. It's your mind's way of working through the grief."
"God, Edith, I feel so helpless. In our business it's something that's always at the back of your mind, you know. But you just never really believe it will. And to have it happen like this, so randomly, just makes accepting all the harder. "
"I know. You wonder 'why him, why like that'; but there's no answers. It's hard now, while it's all still fresh, but in time you'll get by this. You'll never 'get over it'; I hate it when people tell you that. But you'll get by it. Just remember that you have lots of friends who care about you and will want to share your sorrow with you. And, David, we consider you family. The children adore both you and Ken, and Harold, well he'd never say it to your face, but I know he thinks the world of you two. He's always coming home and saying 'Do you know what those two pulled today?' And shakes his head and laughs. And as for me, you'll always have a special place in my heart."
Starsky raised his eyes to hers and knew what she had said was true. He took her hand in his. "Thank you, I needed to know that. Hutch, Hutch and I would do anything for the Captain and you." He sighed again. "It's just that Hutch was more than my partner, he's my closest friend, more like a brother to me than my own brother. For so long all we had was each other. Both our families are on the other side of the continent, and except for a few aunts and uncles, I don't have anyone else out here. Hutch doesn't even have that. We've known each other for so long, it's hard to remember when we didn't. I don't know what I'm going to without him." Trying not to start crying again, he wiped his face with his free hand. "I think I'll try to go back to sleep now. Thanks for coming to wake me up. I'll be fine now"
Edith smiled gently at him. "Why don't I just stay here until you fall asleep? It will make me feel better. You know, the mother instinct."
He returned her smile, faintly. "Thank you, I'd like that." Still holding her hand he settled back down and closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep again. Edith just sat there, holding his hand and watching the sunrise. And crying silent tears for both of the special children of her heart.