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"… Gracey."
"Yeah?" She asked.
"Do you think… he'll come back?"
"Who are you blabbering about now love?"
"The… constable, ma'am." You remind her. "You know, that constable? I haven't seem him in weeks."
Gracey Merlin, the old coot of your so-called-roommate in these trying times, hurled a clump of spit at the ground with a dry cough. She banged her wooden walking stick after with a cackle, exposing what she had left for teeth.
"Oh the constable this, the constable that." She said, rambling on.
Before she could continue her ramblings she spotted a bug on the ground squishing it with her cane. She grabbed it, tossing it into her mouth, proceeding to chew on its tiny shell of bits and bobs before swallowing before continuing on.
"For all I know the next time you sneak out to see em' your guts and organs will be the apple trees new ornaments for all the towns folk to see!" She warned. "They'll use you as their next calling card."
You shift uncomfortably on the worn out wooden box you sat on, grimacing from the very image of what she described and from the sound of her obnoxious chewing. The very texture grinding against your ear drums reminded you of when your classmates scratched their nails against the classroom chalkboards in the old days. "That's… an ungodly image ma'am-"
"Oh don't you go 'ma'am-ing' me, missy." She jabbed at your ankle with her cane, picking the bug bits out of her teeth with her dirtied pinky nail "You know as bloody well as I do that those bobbies will do anythin' to protect that beloved tree and little-miss-curious over here wants to get herself tangled in that mess.'
You knew very well about what's happened to other downers when it came to the bobbies. Surprisingly, you still saw the good in anybody which has lead you to getting into horrid situations that Gracy, the crazy cunt, pulled you out of a time or two. You were grateful for her everything. With slumped shoulders, however, you couldn't deny Gracey's perspective of the Constabulary.
"Right right, you ol' bat. You're always right…" You trailed off, although you couldn't help yourself but reminisce from the previous nights before.
Turning your gaze to the apple tree below, you recall a bobby who always had a tune to sing. Often times it put you to sleep during your spouts of insomnia when it was too great to bear."However, Gracy, I'll argue their just doing their jobs." You countered "Even in the worse circumstance some are better then others. Definitely not as ludicrous as you've described them."
"Oh, but they are-"
"What about the singing bobby?" You argued, promptly cutting her off "You know… the one that sings all those songs of old and new…? I've never seen him go too far."
Gracey nodded her head slowly, stirring the pot of whatever-you-can-find soup. She pondered for a moment, licking her withered lips "Why yes that one. He's quite peculiar, isn't he?" She said, questioning with curiosity "He isn't like the other two he's with. No no… not at all" Gracey answered her own question, focusing her attention on the boiling soup pot and fire place.
You blinked slowly, not bothering to continue the conversation as it was deemed no longer a worth of your time. Seeing the sun slowly going down another day you sighed, retreating to your bed… whatever was left of it anyway. The mattress felt of cardboard and the smell of rot and mold as small insects crawl about the bed and half bent bed frame.
"Before getting some shut eye love at least have some soup, aye?"
You politely declined, pointing out the mystery sauce bottle she found and dumped it in there without a care.
"Suit yourself, deary dear."
Shaking your head again, you turned to your side, wondering how she wasn't dead yet with how risky she was when it came to the ingredients she used in her food. The thought made you sick to your stomach… and the lose of your already starved appetite.
"Sing hallelujah! Sing hallelujah! Put a nickel on the drum save another' drunken' bum-"
Oh, there he is. You were wondered if he had a shift tonight. Sitting up from your bed, your whole body creaked from the poor quality of the mattress. You let out a groan, but it was drowned out by the bobbies singing as you swiped off the critters that crawled on you during the night.
"Sing hallelujah! Sing hallelujah! Put a nickel on the drum and you'll be saved…"
A perk of a smile crept up on your face as you approached the gaping hole on the roof of the torn house. Grasping a wooden pillar you lean against it, observing the apple tree and the bobbies from above… They were doing the usual, drinking away. The singing bobby, however, seemed to be distracted and not drunk off his ass. A few butterflies were flying around the tree. They glistened a beautiful pink as they few around in the gentle, night breeze. One butterfly began to fly down to the singing bobby, landing on his knee.
The bobby continued to sing by the campfire. However, he seemed calmer, his voice seeming to grow softer as his focus was on the beautiful insect.
"…I was lying in the gutter, I was covered up in beer. Pretzels in me mustache I thought the end was near. Then along came Sergeant Stubbs, and saved me from my curse. Glory glory Hallelujah sing another verse…"
"Oh gods this shit again?" A deep voice piped up from beside the singing bobby.
Another voice chimed in right after. "Blimey mate you're starting to sound like a broken record at this point."
Being fully aware they can't get to you, you hide more behind the roof anyway out of fear anyways. Most downers did. Unless you were stupid enough to try to steal from them out of survival. You've seen what the other Constables could do to a downer like you, so you preferred to stay out of sight out of mind even from far away.
The butterfly on the singing bobbies knee few away then from the shouting, making the singing bobby slump on the log he sat on. From the campfire you could sort of tell by the expression on his bobby mask he didn't appreciate his new friend being spooked away from other constables who didn't appreciate a good tune.
"C'mon lads, its a classic, aye?" The singing bobby beamed "Who doesn't like a fine tune to survive the night-"
"Quit your yappin' and get off your ass and start walkin', Constable! You've had enough of break I ain't paying ya to sit around!
The first Constable didn't wait for the singing bobby to stand up. Instead, he grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him onto his feet. You assumed he was the leader of the pack of three by the way he presented himself. "We don't have time to get distracted. Those bloody downers could come anytime and anywhere to steal what rightfully belongs to the fine people of Wellington Wells!"
"Who said it was ours, sir?" The third bobby questioned, chiming in quietly. "How did we determine that? The trees here and were all the way over there-"
"Oi!" The third bobby shouts, poking a finger into the second bobbies chest "Shut the fuck up before you convince us both that you're a downer bitch!" The third bobby ridiculed the second one, smacking right behind the others helmet. "You get moving too before I light your bobby baton on fire and poke you with it like a bloody lion at the circus, got it?!"
"Y-Yes sir, right away sir-"
"Good…" The third bobby praised. Turning his attention back to the singing bobby, he slapped his shoulder. "And you… sing something else before I rip your bloody lips off, will ya? Sing… 'It's a Long Way to Tipperary'"
"Emh…" The singing bobby mumbled, shrugging rather enthusiastically. "Y-Yes sir!"
"Good." He looked at the two, getting rather comfortable on the log before tipping his bobby helmet over his eyes. "Gonna take me nap before I take a shift. Wake me up in a couple hours."
The two bobbies nodded their heads "Yes sir." They replied, going to their rightful places.
And so, the two bobbies started their patrol around the surrounding area of the apple tree, and, as promised, the singing bobby began to sing the other song that was requested (unwillingly). You could tell he wasn't and chipper about singing this one, but it was a lovely tune against your ears hearing his voice again. Hearing him sing, feeling drowsy, you go toward your bed falling asleep to the lovely bobbies voice yet again for another night.
"Eh, I gotta take the piss. Keep an eye out for the tree, will ya?" The first bobby asked the singing bobby, grabbing his baton from the holster.
The singing bobby nodded. "Righto sir, righto!"
"Same 'er." The second bobby said, turning on the flashlight on his helmet." We'll be back by no time at all, Constable."
The two bobbies left whistling along as they went to go find their to piss spots, leaving the singing bobby sitting there alone with the campfire, the apple tree, and the coldness of the night.
Amidst the two bobbies earlier loud ramblings it woke you up to your dismay. You sit up and check out what all the fuss was about. Peaking out again from the roof you see the singing bobby sitting alone on the log… unusually quiet. Your eyebrows rose a fraction… where the hell did the bloody other two idiots go during this time of night? Were they really leaving one of their own to fend for himself? Especially since you knew they were group parties waiting for an opportunity like this to break down those gates and steal the ripe riches of apples.
Fucking idiots You thought, I can't just stand here and watch him potentially get jumped… but he is a Constable. He was trained for this.
You battled with your self conscious for a while. Worried for this strangers well being verses being the logical answer if you did potentially help him would result in you, to quote Gracey, "a calling card". What what if there was that chance were you could… finally meet and talk? Maybe finally have a duet together side by side? This would be the only rare chance you could talk to him alone without worrying about the other two fuckheads. You can't tell by expression, but the way the singing bobby was slouched told you he wasn't in the greatest mood at the moment.
Your heart told you yes.
Your survival instinct, however, told you no. Absolutely not. Though… maybe… maybe he'd like some flowers potentially? He seemed awfully stressed.
Yeah, your crush on the Constable overthrew any logical reason not to go risk your life went out the window. Adrenaline and nervousness hit you all at once as you headed downstairs to the outside to pick the flowers you'd think he'd like, gleaming with confidence with your battered up smile. You made sure to step as quietly as you could to avoid waking up Gracey. You roll your eyes as you hear her snore, skipping past her to the downstairs to the outdoors. It didn't take you long to find a group of night blooming nonsuch's. What was special about them is that they only appeared at night, shimmering their glowing petals against the grass and near by objects around it… just like the singing bobby in a way. Not glowing but… in a metaphorical sense!
Yeah, you were going crazy.
It took you a bit to gather a good amount of flowers after a while, using your teeth to rip them by the stems… and you thought Gracey was gross eating bugs. Using some left over rope you had on hand you tie it perfectly. You end up tying it in a cute bow. You felt silly, to be fair, but you can only live once… right? There was nothing else to live for, anyway, considering your circumstances of being a rotten downer; as the bobbies and joy taking folk would say.
Pushing the thoughts aside you make your way to the apple tree, flowers in hand. You don't mean to, but you gripped them rather hard. You couldn't help yourself, truly. You were taking a huge risk, but you had nothing else better to do then to potentially cheer up a beaten down bobby. As you approach you notice the singing bobbies body move a certain way against the log. There no way, is he…?
Well, I'll be. Blimey, he fell asleep… Bloody idiot. A rather cute idiot I dare say.
Getting closer, you hear him calmly breathing. Yeah, you definitely weren't going to wake him up to give these to him, or maybe you should just go. Anything could go wrong-
Before you could decide to back out or set the flowers down on the log beside the bobby he let out a loud yawn, stretching his rather stiff limbs. You sucked in a breath then, suddenly being able to hear your heart beat in your ears, you froze. Before the singing bobby could turn around, in a panic, you place the bouquet of flowers beside him and rush off.
"What the bloody hell- Hey! You there! Stop in the name of the law!" The singing bobby called out to you, baton in hand, yet he didn't have aggression in his voice.
You hear him sit up from the ground and start chasing you, but you were faster somehow, finding a hiding spot amongst the pile of rubble near your house. The singing bobbies helmet was askew. No wonder why he couldn't see where you ran off to, or so you thought. Adjusting it, he huffed.
"Right right… I'll catch ya next time I will."
He gave up on looking for you and headed back to the log. Slowly, you peak your head up from the rubble watching him walk back. You sit in anticipation… and worry. He could either be thrilled or throw the flowers in the fire pit to keep the light going. It could go either way from here. You see the bobby noticed the bouquet on the log. You don't see him manage to make an attempt to do anything to them, yet. He just… stared at them.
Looking around at first, he put his baton in the holster before gently picking up the beautifully made bouquet. He examined them for a bit, taking in the night blooming nonsuch's beauty. He didn't know what to think at first but he did know one thing. He was extremely flustered. How the hells did that downer know he secretly liked flowers?
"Rather strange but… if this is some sort of ploy to get me distracted it's… workin'" The bobby admitted shyly. His whole face was aflame under his bobby mask. "If I can have a guess about who left this 'er um… thank ya. They're lovely."
Holy tits is he actually serious?
You hid yourself further under the rubble in shock, a flush of colour appeared on your cheeks as you see him continue examining them. Playing with the pedals of the flowers, he looks into the dead of night… directly at the rubble your hiding under. The grin on his mask face couldn't get any larger.
"U-Um… sorry for chasing you like that, you started me pretty bad ya know." He said, chuckling. "I was having a lovely dream… but I suppose it's not your fault, innit?"
The bobby didn't dare to step closer, neither did you not wanting to risk it. Even though you knew HE knew somehow you were hiding here.
"Look…" The bobby began. "I'd come closer and ask to see your pretty face fully, but I'd hate to risk it." He paused, looking behind him. He could hear the familiar approaching footsteps of his colleagues. His heart dropped down his throat. "You shouldn't be 'er. They're coming back, now go before they see ya!"
Taking his word you slip out without a trace in sight, getting out of there just in time before the two bumbling bobbies returned. Upon returning their behaviors seemed… more different. The singing bobby noticed too, taking in their rather sluggish and tipsy steps. They should've been sober hours ago. Before they could notice the singing bobby hide the bouquet inside the hallow log away from their prying eyes.
"Where the bloody hells have you two blokes been for the past three hours?!" He yelled, taking in their rather messed up appearances. "You seriously snuck off to excuse yourselves to drink? Unbelievable-"
"Emh…" One spoke, the third bobby. "We've f-founds some *hic* lovely citizens willing donate their w-whiskey to us." The third bobby giggled, scratching the back of his neck like he was revealing a secret. "How could we say no t-to such a *hic* lovely gesture?"
"Oh for the love of-" The singing bobby groaned in frustration, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't fathom with such idiocy. "I don't believe that for a second, Constable. You two killed for the whiskey didn't you-"
"Here…" The first bobby interrupted slurring his words. Approaching the singing bobby rather poorly, he collapsed on him. "T-To my favourite c-colleague *hic* ever, and that is you, 'er-"The first bobby, lazily, handed the singing bobby a half drunken bottle of whiskey. "On the house from me, your favourite superior."
Before the singing bobby could reply the first bobby already passed out on him, causing the singing bobby to push him off onto the ground. He didn't wake up, snoring away. The third bobby stumbled to the other side of the campfire passing out on the log across from the the other two bobbies. All the singing bobby could at that moment was to shake his head in disappointment.
"Well…" He muttered under his breath "This is… going to be a rather long night, chaps."
The singing constable found his way home finally after a long shift. After last night he requested to be switched to a different patrol group for a while at the apple tree from the higher ups and they reluctantly agreed to switch him. Taking off his uniform he folded it gently before moving onto his gloves, helmet, then finally, his mask. He slips it off, putting it on his bedside. Before collapsing onto his rather inviting bed of comfort, he couldn't forget to put the bouquet of night blooming nonsuch's in the vase he was saving just for the right flowers.
He couldn't stop thinking about you after that night.
He knew it just had to be you, the one that occasionally sang along with him from the rooftop across the way. He swore he's seen you once or twice during the morning patrols coming from that house. What you two had was special, even if you came from a different world from him. He was well aware not all downers were looney. He didn't think you would be looney… anyway. What downer can perfectly sing a song without screaming their bloody head off about "seeing the eyes"?
The bobby, smiley as ever, fell asleep dreaming of one day properly meeting you face to face without the dangerous lurkers who dared to interrupt. Maybe someday that could come true…