A/N: Reviews, as always, are appreciated. Based on the song "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane.
I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Regina walked under a cloud of darkness toward the remains of the apple tree that had stood on her land for decades. Her bare feet shuffled through the cool grass and she shivered as she approached the stump, the only evidence of what had stood for so many years.
The brunette reached out and brushed her fingertips across a stone that was strategically placed in front of the stump. Regina closed her eyes and inhaled. Tears burned her eyes and she bit her tongue, trying to stifle them back.
Emma Swan and she had had their first fight in this very spot. It was in that moment that the game of cat and mouse began that also ignited the flame of passion that burned deep in their cores. "Your move," Emma had hissed before walking away.
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?
They had also had their first date underneath that apple tree. Despite Regina's mask of calm and cool composure, her heart had fluttered the entirety of their evening together. And when Emma finally made a move, brushing a fingertip over Regina's plump lower lip before leaning in and giving her the softest, most delicate kiss she had ever experienced, all of her doubts and fears disappeared.
"This can be our special spot," Regina whispered at the end of that night. "We will meet here every Tuesday, just the two of us."
Emma had smiled and nodded in agreement. Regina swept her into her arms and kissed her. She hadn't felt this surge of excitement and the dancing of butterflies in her stomach since Daniel.
Throughout the rest of the week, the two kept their romance discreet. Regina still shot playfully cold remarks at the blonde and Emma, strongwilled as she was, would come back with just as piercing insults.
But when Tuesday nights came, all the façade was lost as they embraced each other lovingly, picnicking on the grass and telling each other about their day.
Henry had seen them once, starring down at the apple tree from the window in his room. A smile crept on his face as the sound of his parents' laughter filled the air. He confronted them, asked playfully if they were dating. The pair had stared at him in shock, but let down their resolve and nodded. Henry jumped for joy.
They were married beneath that apple tree in a small ceremony. Regina wore a long strapless silk gown with diamond tiara band, while Emma wore a traditional flowing gown with a little bow on the back. The couple smiled at each other with all the love and happiness in the world, content to live this moment over and over again for the rest of their lives.
When they were pronounced wife and wife, Regina had playfully dipped Emma and pressed her lips passionately against hers. A cheer came from the small crowd as they walked together, hand in hand, across the estate and back into Regina's – their – home.
On their first anniversary, Emma had picked apples and made Regina some homemade apple cinnamon oatmeal for breakfast and a delicious apple pie for dessert. The brunette had smiled widely and embraced her wife, burying her face in the crook of her neck and inhaling. She smelled like apples from a long night of cooking. Regina smiled. The scent intoxicated her senses and she pressed her lips against Emma's, hoping her tongue would taste of apples as well. It did.
And if you have a minute, why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
Emma was pulling away and Regina knew something was wrong. One evening she found Emma curled in the fetal position beneath their beloved apple tree, sobbing. Regina had rushed to her, wrapping her arms around her in solace. It was raining and the two listened together as the raindrops pattered softly against the leaves of the tree. The younger woman broke the silence. "I found a lump."
Regina had let out a choked sob and buried her face in Emma's shoulder, letting the tears fall.
This could be the end of everything
The chemo made Emma extremely ill, almost unable to function. She couldn't eat, couldn't sleep through the night, could barely take care of herself; but Regina was there, every single day, to help her through the pain and frustration. One night, she brought out the old picnic blanket and very carefully walked Emma beneath the apple tree. Emma had sat silently, dark tired circles beneath her eyes accented by ghost white skin. Regina had reached up and picked an apple before pulling a small knife from out of the picnic basket and cutting it into small pieces. She offered a piece to Emma. "I wouldn't be able to keep it down, anyway" she whispered. Regina nodded sadly.
Emma passed at home in her wife's arms. Regina had screamed and cried, calling every doctor she could, urging them to help her. There was nothing they could do.
The funeral was small. Many had come up to Regina to express their condolences. She merely gazed stoically ahead, nodding robotically.
Regina had come home that night, her body aching with emotional pain. She stomped up to the bedroom the two once shared and looked out the window. The apple tree. Regina crumbled to the floor, sobbing. It was too much to bear.
The next day she had called someone to cut the tree down. It was done with a few swift cuts and fell into the equipment with a loud thud.
And now Regina sat next to the stump, tracing back and forth over the small stone headstone that had Emma's name chiseled into it. Emma Swan, beloved wife and mother.
"I miss you, Emma," Regina sobbed, her hands fisting around the green grass around her. "I miss this, I miss our special place." Her voice was shaking as the sobs overwhelmed her. "I hope you're not mad that I cut it down. It was just…too much to bear. Too much a reminder that you're gone." Gone. She came undone at the word, crumbling into a ball against the stump and letting out loud, strangled sobs. "I love you so much, Emma."
Eventually she opened her eyes and her mouth opened in shock. Just a few steps past the stump near the fence line was their picnic basket with the blanket folded neatly inside. Regina could have sworn she threw the thing away after the funeral. She tentatively opened the basket and pulled out the blanket. The brunette brought it to her face and inhaled – it still smelled like Emma. And to Regina's shock, beneath the folded blanket, at the bottom of the basket, was a perfectly ripe, bright red apple.
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?