A Boy In Blue

Chapter 1


"Rrrrrriiiise and shiiiiiine, you beautiful people! Rise and shine!" a young, cheerful voice spoke above the dim light of closed eyelids and the deafening sound of nothingness.

"This is your host, Randy Offordson, and I would like to wish you all a Merry Monday from us here at 205.7! It is currently thirty degrees outside and no end to the snow today seems in sight! Be sure to get your coats before trotting out that door, hahah!"

I only groaned, and shuffled further underneath the covers.

"...with heavy snow. I would also like to remind you that a blizzard watch is in effect for the areas of Cape Cod and Boston. This watch will continue onto next week, where the temperature will lighten up - THANKFULLY - and we'll be trading in those worn out coats for some less cumbersome hoodies and jackets. So look forward to that."

With an exasperated grunt, I slid myself out of the warm embrace of the blankets and into the sharp cold air around me. My feet reacted rather negatively at first to the floor's bite, but the cold did not fare well against the warmth of my socks.

"...but that's what they said, of course! Now, eh, into further news. I'm sure all of you have heard - and possibly been preparing for - Boston's special guests today! The British Prime Minister and our proud President will be visiting our great city in preparation for the Treaty of Unification. For those of you who don't know what that is, let me give you the too long, didn't read version!" The DJ said, his cheerful voice acting as a beacon of hope for the cloudiness in my mind. "Basically, after Null Sector's attack on France, our proud President and the Prime Minister of Britain have realized how important our relationship is. So, they seek to unify the two nations in a glorious speech today! Oh, ho… This'll be exciting! Hahahah!"

"Oh, yeah… That…" I groaned, rubbing my eyes as I listened half-heartedly to the station. My own alarm clock, as it were. I stood there a moment, looking for the light switch.

"Now, we here at station 205.7 harbor no ill-will towards our omnic listeners, but let's be real for a second…."

"That's not the switch… where is it?" I thought as I felt around. A loud crash in the dark sounded off, and I only looked at where I thought it came from. But I could see nothing. "Damn!"

"...nd we can only overcome our differences through peace and unity. But, for you omnics wanting otherwise? Heh, well. These unity-talks have been a long time coming."

"That's not it either… where is it?" my thoughts echoed. Another loud crack in the otherwise somewhat quiet room. "Oh Goddamnit."

"Police will have certain roads blocked off today in preparation for the President and Prime Minister's arrival and it is likely we'll be seeing the most active police force in Boston that we ever have seen since that attack during the Omnic Crisis. In attendance will be Boston Police Force, multiple county sheriff's offices, multiple police agencies from Cape Cod, the Massachusetts State Troopers, and a local Marine detachment from Fort Revere."

"There it is…." I moved for the switch.

"We'll also be looking at whatever security is being brought in by the British Armed Forces, but FEAR NOT! This is NOT an invasion and the British will not be quartering troops in your homes, so we don't have to dump tea in the harbor again. I promise, this is all a peaceful endeavor, hahahah!"

With a swift motion, the lights came on. Revealing the once dark room's contents and enveloping everything with a low, comforting orange light. The windows were still shuttered close, and the bed was raggled all to hell and back. I could hear the heater working its wonderful magic, but I moved to turn it off as I no longer had need of it.

"So you boys in blue get up and smell the roses, will ya? Don them blue uniforms and grab some donuts! You all got a big day ahead of ya! I-Hmm….perhaps this song will help you out?"

And so the speaker on the radio faded from a cheerful young man's voice to the beginning of trumpets and drums. I glanced over to the radio and smirked, happy about my choice of an alarm to wake up to. 205.7 was a great radio station. Tolerant. Apolitical. No religious talk. Only current events, funny skits, and great music. A lot of it came from the old 21st century. Plenty of it was modern however, and every night the national anthem would play with an Omnic singing the chorus.

How delightful.

I stood there, rubbing my eyes as a shred of sleepy tears slid down my cheeks. My weary windows saw only blurs, as each green-pupiled, bloodshot ball existed in a moment of faux agony in an early morning. Some people were morning people, but I was not, and I felt an existential amount of exhaustion as my will to sleep grew and grew by the minute. But I powered through and made for the shower - the only thing that would possibly even succeed in waking me - and in a cold morning such as this it would work well as a makeshift sauna.

Undressing, not even bothering to shut my bathroom door, I turned the faucet and only stood there for a moment; listening to the sounds of water berating the shower floor. It sounded like rain.

Beautiful, beautiful rain.

I stepped inside, and for a good half hour I enjoyed myself and my own company. Lost in my thoughts, the warmth of the water cascading down my flesh, the soap and shampoo destroying the collected grime of the days past and the sensation of a clean body at the end of it.

Of course, I winced when it was all over. The curtain being drawn back and the cold air of the damnable morning assaulting my every sense in a manner of painful reconciliation. Condensation was still sticking defiantly to the mirror, and as I brought my hand across the wet, dripping mess, I smiled as it revealed the tired brown-haired man underneath. I could see still that despite my best efforts to dry it, my rather cropped hair would still be soaked through and through for a time after. My eyes, a green reflection of an exhausted dreamer, were bloodshot to a good extent. But was normal as nervousness was all I had felt the day prior. I slept unwell, and only caught the sandman's spell at around one in the morning.

I wasn't ready to allow my own shortcomings to impact my work, not even in a less profound event. I casted my eyes downward to my deodorant and went to work preparing for the day ahead. The radio still played in the other room, and I could hear the song it played. An old Green Day song. The name of which escapes me, but was about a boulevard of some sorts.

As I moved to brush my teeth, I gasped, a sudden and shocking realization befalling me. I turned to stare at the broken mess of glass at my feet and nearly shouted with frustration. What came crashing down to the floor were in fact a bunch of picture frames I had clumsily knocked over as I fumbled blindly for the switch. I bent down and looked over the shattered remains. The pictures were intact, but the glass frames were totaled and scattered and I was lucky not to have stepped onto a stray shard.

I sighed, noting the pictures had not been damaged in any way. One was a picture of Dad, who had sadly passed away during the Omnic Crisis while defending Boston from the famous attack. And two were of my sisters who lived far away in the swamps of Florida. None were damaged, and I, feeling lucky, sat the pictures down on my dresser and turned away. I moved to open the shutters, and the dim dawn of the coming morning greeted me with both its benevolence and beauty.

It was time to greet the new day.

Slipping on my police coat, the nametag read:

"Sgt. Crouse"


My morning passed slow. With that hot shower, lukewarm coffee, and more morning radio talk. It was boring, and more so coupled with the long day ahead. I mostly sat at my table, listening to the DJ and drinking my coffee while scrolling through the holopaper on my phone.

Nothing new in the news, as it were. Just the same old events, and the worries of another attack by Null Sector plaguing the masses all over the world. Apparently there was even a shootout at some Russian factory and the culprits escaped without any trouble.

"This world's gone crazy…" I muttered as I scrolled further down.

At this time, it was seven in the morning. The sun was out, and I could hear my neighbors waking up. The outside was already starting to become a bustle. Civilians, tourists, and police officers going to and fro. Traffic backing up and curses being slung here and there. A few hot dog vendors were preparing themselves and moving to find a good spot to set up. I even saw a few military men in full battle dress walking the streets. Of course, in another world, this would seem like a police state under total martial law with the people acting as nothing more than cattle.

But on this day it was fully warranted. Boston was due for two very special guests today and the government, both city and federal, were taking all precautions into account in order to ensure the safety of our visiting dignitary and president. Of course, none of us were worried. Not only would the military, Secret Service, and local police be involved but a few British Royal Guards were also to be accompanying the Prime Minister under orders from the Royal Family.

Or so the rumors said. I knew I would find out soon. But I smiled in the way a fanboy would smile at the prospect of working alongside such fine brave men and women.

I could already hear my neighbors moving about in their apartments. Walls devoid of the ability to block sound, and thin enough that you could knock and receive one in turn. It wasn't often a problem however as my neighbors often weren't home. They would wake, eat, go to work, come home and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

They were kindly too. Everyone in the building knew each other and respected one another's privacy and traditions; just like a small town.

But annoyingly, the noise existed. Even when one could try and be quiet, noise would prevail.

I ran a hand through my rather short hair - a brown, ruffled mess that I have yet to correct and my eyes, while slightly bloodshot from the early rise, betrayed light blue windows that led into my soul. Of course, they were staring at a phone screen in the now dimmed light of my kitchen.

Of course, I could only procrastinate for so long before I realized I had to be out the door. With one final sip of coffee, I left it on the table to be cleaned later and pocketed my phone before walking to the door. I put my cap firmly on my head and swung it open before stepping outside into the automated warmth of the hallway.

My morning saw me out the door no later than eight thirty. I turned towards my door and. with a turn of a key, my apartment room looked shut firmly behind me. And I was greeted by a familiar voice.

"Mr. Crouse! How are you?" a cheery elderly voice spoke up. I turned to look at its source and smiled when I realized exactly who it was. Ms. Cremshaw, a neighbor who lives right across from me, was standing there. Outside her door, her cane and her purse in hand, and a ring of keys in the lock. I chuckled and turned to face her fully and spoke with a warm inflection one would give to a good friend.

"Ms. Cremshaw. I trust you had a great night?" I asked. She sighed, as pitiful one an old woman can muster in a cold and boring morning coupled with that of a possible sleepless night. Much like the one I had suffered, really.

"Not really. Mr. Stripp - y-you know Mr. Stripp, right? - he kept me up all night talking to his ex-girlfriend on that loud phone of his." She complained with a roll of her tiny eyes. "It was fairly annoying."

I laughed.

"Catch anything juicy?" I gossiped with a sarcastic tone a teenager would muster. I even rose my eyebrows to add in some hilarity. This made her smile and laugh more so than I, and with a slight gasp of air she replied heartily.

"Hahah, oh my no deary." she laughed. "I only heard the vocals."

"It's called hearing aids." I waved her off with a chuckle. I glanced at my watch and glanced back at her. I had left a little early and decided it was alright to stop for a conversation. But she surprised me when she stepped away towards the stairs. "Need any help, Ms. Cremshaw?"

Devin Cremshaw was a sweet old lady. She had been living on the apartment block for as long as I can remember. Longer than I have even. She always kept to herself and never caused waves with the neighbors. She lived alone, the landlord not allowing animals and her husband had died nearly ten years ago.

Her children don't call, according to her, and her grandchildren don't even acknowledge her existence in this world. At times, she finds the ability to leave the apartment to run errands and the like. It's how we first met, and I just couldn't for the life of me leave her to her own devices at her age.

Often times I help bring up the burlap bags of veggies and meats, and I would house-sit for her when she goes out of town. I would pick up her mail for her when it came around, and I would in general just keep her company when she began to feel alone.

I do not envy her, of course. Her life as a loner at a ripe old age does not sound pleasant. All the more added in when the only one who seems to acknowledge you is the cop across the way.

So it is only fair I ask to assist. But her mere reply that she had nothing important to do was a good enough answer for me. The cold was bitter, and she had her own car in the parking lot. I was the one left to my own devices there...

"Ah, are you going to the Unity Rally?" I asked with a curious intent. Of course, I already knew the answer but part of me wanting a conversation with a friend spoke in my stead. The old woman replied with a happy smile.

"Of course! Who in this city isn't?" She asked.

"True, true."

"Are you going to be there?" She asked with a brow raised. I pointed to my uniform and smirked with tired eyes.

"I have to. Every cop in the city is being called in today to ensure the safety of the dignitary and our President." I replied. "...there isn't enough coffee in the world…" I added in a mumble under my slight, cold breath.

"Oh, you poor thing. Standing for hours in the cold for a simple speech…." She stopped in her descent, turning to fully look at me. "I'm sorry."

"To serve and protect, ma'am."

She smiled and continued down the brownish snow tracked stairs. Another tenant passed by her, a dark coated woman of Asian descent fumbling with her keys. She stopped in front of me and mumbled something in her native tongue before realizing she stood in my way. A slight pause of inconvenience and she moved aside, adding in a "I'm sorry, sir. It's just one of those days…"

I smiled and agreed before silently moving by her. Following Ms. Cremshaw, I took a few step down the stairs until I found myself in the lobby, where the old woman was already devoid. I saw the receptionist at her desk, playing a card game on her computer while an Omnic was reading a newspaper in the corner nearest to the door. The lobby, unlike the stairs, was cleaner. A red, brown, and green mess of tiles decorating the floor in a pattern beyond me.

Pictures of heroes long past like the founder of our country and other artistic renditions of other famous historical figures and scenelets of meadows and streams. Chairs and bookshelves lay at the edges of the somewhat large room, and a large television sat on the wall above the receptionist's desk, with a news broadcast playing what we all already knew was going to happen.

I saw the elevator, devoid of any contact.

The receptionist noted my presence and smiled, and I returned her gesture. She knew who I was and where I was going. The Omnic was uncaring, and frankly, I didn't know him. But I passed by them both without issue, but I turned back once more to see if the lady of Asian descent was returning to the lobby. She was not, obviously caught up in an issue that found her back to her room originally. But these people tolerated one another well, and no one had given any other a sign of trouble.

I smiled, knowing of the long day ahead of me, and of the fine people of this city, both foreign and domestic, I am going to meet.

"To serve and protect.." I muttered once again.