A/N - Monday Entry for OQMovie Week. Prompt: Bird Box. This was initially just supposed to be one short chapter, but I imagine it will end up being more. Enjoy!
The guiding rope down to the running fresh water was Henry's idea. She could never be that innovative. Their daily treks have been cut down by at least thirty minutes now that they are not blindly following the burbling of the nearby river, and, even though Regina was hesitant at first, with the rope it's much safer to go alone.
Henry knows how much Regina enjoys being by the water, that she could stand forever listening to it trickle in whatever direction it flows. Only, as of late, she's missed seeing how the sunlight would reflect off the surface, pulling her attention in every direction.
She misses a lot of things, a lot, but the brilliant blue of the sky is constantly in her thoughts. She thinks about how the sky is impervious to the utter carnage happening below it; regardless of the death below, the azure wash above will be there today and tomorrow and the next day… and she can't even spare it a glance.
Instead, she is constantly blinded by the burgundy cloth tied tightly around her head, shielding her eyes, the only thing keeping her safe from the darkness outside. To this day, she still isn't sure what it is that has plagued the Earth and caused such mass destruction, but she knows for certain that she never wants to find out firsthand. Anything capable of brainwashing a person in seconds and manoeuvring them, like they are puppets and this mystical evil is the puppeteer, to end their lives, is something she never wants to fall victim to. She and her son, Henry, don't dare look at the outside world, being as vigilant as possible to keep themselves secured on the inside and making these trips outside as carefully as they can.
"Mom!" She hears off in the distance, and she immediately stands straight from filling water bottles in the stream, her heart racing faster and faster as she listens intently for any other sounds. She's imagined him calling out to her before and deep in the back of her mind she fears that it's the darkness lurking around trying to taunt her or frighten her enough to slip her blindfold off so it can consume her.
"Apple!" Henry's voice echoes from far away and she runs without hesitation, water bottles abandoned where they are dropped. They'd decided early on to choose a safe word, a word they could use in case either of them were confused out in the open when it came to being tricked.
She follows the rope all the way back up to the house, the skin of her palms burning with every fast stride her legs make. She shouts out to Henry, begs him to keep calling to her so she can follow his voice.
"Over here," he says, much more calmly than his previous yelling.
She reaches him, out of breath and with red raw hands, but she realises that he's not alone. She can feel a presence just ahead of them. "Henry?" she asks, clawing around to feel for his shirt and grips him, pulling his back flush against her chest. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he whispers, holding tightly onto both of her wrists that are clinging at his abdomen.
"I meant no harm," the unfamiliar voice assures. It's a gentle British voice laced with genuine sincerity. "I'm blindfolded and collided with your boy by mistake as we were running."
"Running from what?" Regina asks fearfully, but before Regina can inquire anymore, suddenly all the space around them is consumed by a cold breeze and whispered voices, hushed taunts and promises trying to have them unveil their eyes.
She clutches Henry in closer, telling him that they need to get inside.
"We can't leave them out here," Henry remarks.
The quiet voice of a small boy mutters a scared, "Papa…" And Regina's heart squeezes upon realising that this stranger had a child of his own to protect, demanding her to push aside the fear of betrayal and take the risk.
She takes her son's hand in her right one and blindly reaches out in front of her with the other. "Take my hand," she demands of the stranger, and he obliges quickly, linking his large, calloused hand with hers tightly. Trusting that he had his own grip on the child by his side, she tells henry to lead the way. He's the better of the two of them for having his bearings and navigates them back through the crazed, hushed voices to the safety of the indoors.
She pushes against the door with her back pressing again a relentless gust of wind that could easily knock someone off their feet. She grits her teeth and pushes strongly against the floor with her firmly planted feet until the door slams closed and she slides down to sit with a deep sigh.
She can hear the soft pants of Henry and their two new visitors as she takes of her blindfold and rolls her neck around before dropping back against the hardwood of the door. Henry is standing alone, hunched over with his hands on his thighs while the man and child are wrapped around each other tightly. They are both blindfolded at least, thank God, that can put her mind at ease even if just a fraction.
"Henry, take your blindfold off," she says, standing from the floor. "You two wait."
"Of course," the much older of the two agrees.
Henry unwraps the material from around his head, crumpling it up in his hands and tossing it to the floor and steps next to Regina, waiting patiently for her to make up her mind about how they handle this situation.
They haven't encountered anyone in a long time, mostly to be as safe as possible, but the line has been crossed and now her mind is racing a million miles an hour as she considers how to rectify the problem they've created for themselves.
"Mom?" Henry asks softly.
"Just give me a minute to think," she requests, circling who she assumes are father and son. They are outdoorsy, she can tell by the way they are dressed in heavy boots and layered in thick shirts and coats. "Did you see it?" she asks them. "Have you seen what it is?"
"No," he says. "We know better than to look outside. We aren't infected by whatever it is, I can promise you that."
"Hmm," Regina hums, "And if you're lying?"
"Mom, listen," Henry insists.
Regina listens for a beat, unsure of what Henry's referring to. "I don't hear anything."
"Exactly," he points to the birdcage set up in the far corning of the room, "If we were in danger, they'd be chirping."
The birds were Henry's realisation. Before, when there were many of them together, Henry noticed that the birds would chirp madly whenever someone inside the house had become exposed. Regina didn't always like placing her faith in the screeching chirps, but Henry believes in it so unapologetically, so she latches onto a bit of that hope.
"You're right," she sighs. "I'm sorry. You can take them off."
"Thank you," he exhales, putting his son carefully down and kneeling on the floor to help untie the knot at the back of the boy's head. The small boy is nervous, cowering in close to his father as the last blindfold comes off. "I've missed that face," the man says softly to his son, running a hand gently through the forest of mad curls on the little one's head.
"I'm Robin," he announces to the room, standing again with a hand planted firmly on the boy's shoulder. "And this is my son, Roland."
Henry is the first to return the greeting, waving kindly at Roland. "Nice to meet you both," Henry offers.
Regina's instinct is to rid Roland of any fear that is still consuming his little soul, so she crouches down in front of him and offers him a hand to shake. He takes it tentatively, "I'm Regina," she introduces, smiling politely. "Are you hungry?" she asks, already knowing that he is no doubt starved from whatever adventure they were caught in. Roland nods wildly, perking up a bit with a twitch of his lips into a smile. "Then I have one very important question for you: Apple or lemon?"
Roland ponders the question quite animatedly, pursing his lips and even looking up to Robin for guidance, but all he's given in return is a soft, "It's up to you, my boy."
"Apple," Roland decides.
"Done," she smiles, asking Henry to take Roland into the kitchen and make up some of their favourite treat.
As the boys shuffle into the back of the house, Regina notices Robin looking around carefully. He's especially interested in the covered windows. It's nothing special, just layers and layers of anything they could find taped over; newspaper, wrapping paper, tin foil, you name it.
"Smart," Robin compliments, reaching out his hand for a handshake. She takes it easily, allowing for the single shake and short lingering of their touching hands. "I can't thank you enough."
"Don't mention it," Regina shrugs off. "If it were me and Henry, I'd want someone to do the same."
Regina is drawn to his eyes, there's something about them. Maybe it's as simple as being the first set of eyes she's really looked into, other than Henry's, in a long time.
"Where were you headed?" she asks. "You said before you were looking for the river."
"Ah," he breathes, his shoulders slumping a bit. "We heard a broadcast a while back about a compound. There are people there living together and they've found a way to keep themselves safe. The only way to get to it is to take the river south."
"And what exactly was your plan when you got here?"
"Truthfully," he begins to admit, "I really hadn't thought that far ahead. Obviously we'll need a boat and supplies, but I guess I just figured we'd look around the houses on the waters edge for the things we need."
"A boat, huh?" Regina asks, and Robin seems to wave off the idea as completely outrageous, pointing out that he knows it all sounds crazy. Regina points up, though, making sure his eyes follow up to the high, open rafters of the house where there is a wooden boat balancing on the beams. It's been here since she and Henry found this place, but they have yet to find the desire for an afternoon water adventure.
"That's lucky," Robin chuckles nervously, and he almost chokes on the chuckle when Regina offers it to him. She has no need for it. "I can't take your property."
"I don't think the concept of ownership applies to the world right now," she counters.
"True," he agrees after a moment of pondering, become more and more amused with her after every sentence they bounce off of each other. "Might I be cheeky and ask for a favour?"
Regina nods, allowing it, and he asks, "Would you mind if we rest here for a few days before we move on? We've spent the last handful of nights sleeping outside in the cold with very few supplies. I'd be eternally grateful if we could try to collect ourselves here."
Truth be told, Regina is desperate for the company, and she has a good feeling about him. "You can stay as long as you need."
"Thank you," he exhales, relieved. "I can't express enough-"
"Are you hungry?" she asks, nodding back to the kitchen area, suddenly realising that their son's are in the kitchen snacking away, and she didn't even have the decency to offer anything to him.
"What's on the menu?" he inquires, and she laughs. For the first time in weeks.
"Henry's special," she plays into it. "Crackers and marmalade."
"Sounds fantastic," he smiles, happily following her into the kitchen.
Roland waves at them excitedly with his mouth as full as it can possibly be with crackers and sugar, Robin immediately joining by his side in the treat and telling him to be mindful and not try to swallow too much at one time. There's laughter, there's much less tension in the air, and it dawns on her why his eyes drew her in so much. They're the blue she's been missing, the bright sapphire of a warm, cloudless afternoon sky, and they've arrived just in time before she gave up all hope of never seeing it again.