Sleep had not come easily for Regina, but it had come. Because it had been so hard earned, she was thoroughly displeased to be awoken by a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. As she opened her eyes, she whipped her head around to the edge of her bed, to fix her intruder with her most profoundly murderous Evil Queen stare.

Except that her burning stare locked onto the shining eyes of her stable boy, and instantly, her gaze softened.

"Daniel?" She whispered.

The beautiful boy smiled at her, that sweet daylight smile she'd missed so well. "No…" He answered softly. "I've taken the form of Daniel to help you in remembering, but I am not him."

Regina slowly remembered Maleficent's statement. Three spirits would visit her… "So you're…"

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. I'm here to take you backwards… To help you remember." He reached out his hand to her, still smiling so gently.

Regina's eyes narrowed. "We didn't celebrate Christmas in my old world. So you won't have very far to take me, I'm afraid."

He laughed, and his eyes sparkled like he really thought she was charming – the way Daniel's had once done. "We're very good at approximating, I assure you. We'll make do."

Cautiously she reached out a hand to place in his, and before she could venture a further thought, she found herself swept up and away.

When she came to again, she was in… a cabin it looked like. A simple place. It should have been cold, but the crackling fire in the hearth of the room seemed to be staving off the chill. Near the fire sat a man, and beside him a little girl – maybe six or seven years old. Regina crouched slightly, as though to avoid being spotted.

"Don't worry – they can't see us. Do you recognize them?" Asked Daniel – the Ghost of Christmas Past.

Regina studied them closely. She did, of course. She recognized her father, though he was younger than she ever remembered him. The smiling child beside him was harder to place, but… who could it be, but herself? Had she ever been that young?

"This… I'd forgotten this. This is the year that my father took me with him for a short trip to his winter cabin." She was quiet for a moment, trying to dredge up the memory she hadn't had occasion to visit in a long, long time. "'A chance to see the world', he'd called it. It was the first time I'd ever been away from home. It was…" She was surprised to find herself tearing up. "It was a wonderful trip. I was so happy to be with him."

The Ghost smiled his sweet smile at her, and nudged her gently on the shoulder. "Go closer… What are they saying?"

Unable to help herself, Regina walked closer. She was hungry for sharp details to a memory that had dulled over the course of her many years.

"Are you having a good time, my dear?" She heard her father ask, as she approached behind where the pair sat. She saw the way her father looked down at his daughter with loving, kind eyes. It made her heart heavy and light both at the same time.

The little girl smiled. Beamed, really. "I am, Father. I so enjoyed riding in the snow today." The snow. Regina turned from where she stood to look outside, but of course, there were no windows in this simple structure. It didn't matter. She remembered that snow, now. Heavy flakes that managed to drift so slowly down to earth, carpeting the ground in a way that had looked like hope itself, to her childish self. She'd ridden her little pony, up in front so she never had to see the perfect snow marred from the horses' hooves. Her father had ridden close behind. Oh, how they'd laughed and enjoyed themselves that day. She turned back, then, to the conversation unfolding between the father and daughter.

"Mother will be cross, I think, that we left without telling her…" The girl said quietly, the easy happiness fading from her soft brown eyes.

Regina wondered, had she seen the sadness in her father, back when she was a child? Probably not. She was younger here than Henry was now – back in Storybrooke - and… children see so much and so little at the same time. All the same, she saw it now – the sorrow, the regret that seemed to cloak him as he reached out to stroke the girl's cheek. "It may be that she is, Regina… Your mother is… difficult to please, I know. I wish I could make her see you the way I do… You are perfect, I hope you know that. You make me smile every day that you're in my life…"

Regina blinked hard against the tears that her hapless faithful father's worlds brought to her eyes. In contrast, her child counterpart simply beamed up at him, and snuggled against his side. "Is this what you wanted me to see?!" Regina demanded of the ghost, turning away from a sight that pained her, to face the spirit that had brought her here. "How much of a wrong I did him?" She cried then, real tears that wouldn't be blinked away, as she watched her father whisper something to his little daughter that made her laugh. "Did you think I didn't know?"

The ghost walked closer now, and gently placed his hand on Regina's arm, which was clutched tight around herself. "No…" The ghost whispered. "I only wanted you to see how happy you were then. You choose to see what you want to, you choose to hold on to what you want to, and with you, Regina, what you choose to hold onto is never worth keeping. Hasn't that always been your failing? Come on, it's time to go…" He ran his hand down her arm, and took her hand in his own once again. Regina looked desperately back at her father's kind face, but caught only a glimpse of it before in a bright flash, she was gone.

And then reappeared. This time in the woods, in the snow. She suspected she should have been cold, clad as she was in a simple silk nightgown, with no shoes on her feet – but the snow didn't affect her at all. "What are we here to see?" She asked the ghost, as she glanced around at the empty space before them.

"Just wait and see…" Was his only answer.

In a moment, she heard the soft crunch of hoof-steps on snow. An instant later, two figures appeared from the woods, leading horses behind them.

"Oh…" Was the only sound Regina could make, and even that little noise was painful. She remembered this.

A young Regina slowed to a halt before her, hand in hand with Daniel, the way he was in her memory. The pair smiled at each other, and then leaned in to share a gentle, innocent kiss.

"Regina," she heard Daniel whisper against her younger self's lips, before he pulled away. "I love you."

The girl smiled up at him, a real smile, wide and honest. Regina was transfixed by that smile, by the way her young self's eyes seemed to shine with love, with faith, with joy. She wished that Henry were here to see this moment, to see that once she'd had the makings of the mother he'd always deserved.

"You were so young then… You had such a sweet heart, didn't you?" The ghost gently stated.

The girl turned suddenly, as though she thought she'd heard something off in the woods. In turning, her gaze landed squarely where Regina stood, and for a moment, Regina forgot the ghost's assurance that she could not be seen. She buried her face hard against her shoulder, bringing her arm up to shield her face. It hurt, it physically hurt, to think of her young self seeing her like this – seeing what she would become in time, seeing the frozen plane that her wide-open heart had turned into – but then the girl spoke, and Regina remembered she could not be seen. Slowly, she dropped her arm.

"Did you hear something, Daniel?" Young Regina asked, now a little skittish, the hand not wrapped around her horse's reins clutching tighter to Daniel's.

Daniel smiled. "Only the falling of the snow, my love…"

The girl shook her head. "We should go back. Mother will be angry when she finds out I went riding in the woods. It displeases her."

Daniel dropped her hand then, only to place it against her flushed pink cheek instead. "Everything displeases your mother, Regina… She is a cruel and spiteful woman." She nodded her assent, and moved to remount the horse as if that settled the matter, but Daniel grabbed her back.

"You cannot change her, you know? But you don't have to let her change you. You are everything I love in this world… Promise me you won't let Cora destroy that, Regina. No matter whatever happens."

The girl leaned against him then, pressing her forehead into his neck. Her answer was muffled by the embrace, but Regina didn't need to hear it. She remembered the words well enough now.

"I promise."

The young pair parted then, remounting their horses, and turning them to ride back in the direction they'd come from. As they departed, Regina felt the ghost's hand on her arm again. "Did you keep your promise to Daniel, Regina?" He asked kindly.

Regina could feel her heart sinking, whatever was left of it. Oh, a promise… Made while in love, standing in the snow, full of so much hope. A promise that had been buried under so much hatred and bitterness, she'd forgotten it had ever been made.

"I…" She began, weakly. "She killed him." She turned to face the ghost who was wearing her first love's form, and stammered on, as though she was actually making her excuses to Daniel. "He was all I had… And I watched her kill him." The way he gazed back at her was so free of judgment, so quiet and calm, that it made her all the more frantic to explain. "I just… I hated her so much, after that. Her, Snow… everyone. They all had so much, and they'd made sure that I had nothing -"

He interrupted her with a gentle finger to her lips. "You made a promise. A promise not to let her change you. Have you kept it?"

She hung her head, all those long silenced regrets rushing now to the surface. "No."

With a soft touch, he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. He smiled at her, that sunshine smile. "It's not too late, not if you don't want it to be. Hold on to the right things, Regina."

With that, before she even knew what was happening, she was back in bed – sleeping again, as though she'd never been awoken by visions from her Christmas's past.