A/N: I am so, so, so sorry, guys! It's been far too long. Pair writer's block and busy-ness with a laptop that doesn't want to work and you get a very irritated writer and a near-deserted fanfiction. Ugh. Anyway, without further ado, (and hopefully without any laptop issues *glares at screen*), here's the next chapter =D

"Mother! Mother, look!" I bounded over to Mother, my long blond hair tickling my ankles and following me like a shadow. I held my chubby hands in front of me, cupped carefully around something I'd found.
"What is it, flower?" Mother seemed preoccupied with something on her hand, but I quickly showed her the precious thing anyway. A firefly had made its way into my tower, and I had spent an hour trying to catch it.
"Bug! Bug!" I felt my face pull into a wide, toothy smile.
"Mmhmm," Mother glanced at the critter that was carefully cradled in my four-year-old hands. "Yes. It's a firefly."
I knew my eyes widened with curiosity. "It's so-o-o pretty. Can I keep it?"
"No," Mother was quick to shake her head, her black curls bouncing back and forth. "It would die, flower, and you don't want to kill it, do you?"
"No, Mother." I shook my head, my eyes widening even more, this time with horror and fear.
"That's a good girl. Give it to me, and I'll let it go." She held her hands out and I tried to carefully deposit the creature into her hands, but it fell on the floor instead. Mother quickly stepped forward, presumably to catch it, but she instead stepped on it. With a gasp - I knew now that it was likely staged - she backed away and examined the remaining pieces of the firefly. "Oh, look at what you've done, Rapunzel..."
I gasped, pressing my hands to my mouth. I had been hoping that the insect would be my first and only friend, and look what I'd done to it - "I'd" killed it. Certainly, it was Mother Gothel's fault, but at the time, I thought it my fault because, firstly, Mother Gothel said so, and secondly, because if I had not caught it, it would still be alive.
Mother grasped my shoulder with a sense of urgency. "I'm feeling a little sickly, now, flower. Why don't you sing for me while I brush your hair?"
"Yes, Mommy," I whimpered, still staring at the deceased firefly on the floor.

Rapunzel watched her three year old daughter run gleefully in the castle garden, her chubby hands outstretched as she watched the fireflies filling the summer air. Her semi-long brown hair fell in her eyes and she giggled, twirling in a circle and landing in the middle of some grass, dizzied.
"You were right, she's going nuts over these bugs," Eugene plopped in the grass beside his wife, and she grinned absentmindedly.
"I knew she would." Standing up, she caught a firefly in her hand. "Aisling, sweetie, c'mere!"
Hearing the excitement in her mother's voice, she raced over, grabbing at her mother's blue skirt and giggling. Rapunzel bent, holding her hands out carefully. The little girl peered, awe-struck, and then glanced up at her mother. "Fire-bug!"
"Yes, sweetheart. Firefly. Here, hold your hand out, baby." the child did so, and Rapunzel gently slid the insect onto her hand. When it crawled across her palm, she squealed. "Tickles, mommy! It tickles!"
Rapunzel laughed. "Does it? Now be careful, don't squish it!"
She nodded, holding it right in front of her face and giggling when it illuminated her brown eyes. "I wanna keep it!"
Rapunzel froze, glancing at Eugene as memories flooded her. Hadn't she promised Aisling everything she'd never had? How could she tell her that no, she couldn't keep the firefly, in a less graphic way that Gothel had?
Eugene came to the rescue, crouching beside Aisling. "We'll get a jar to keep it in for awhile, but you have to let it go later, okay?"
"Why?" she asked innocently, almost on the verge of giving him a pout.
"It would miss its family! I bet it has a mommy and daddy waiting for it," he handled the situation effortlessly.
"Okay," she nodded, and he left to retrieve a small jar from the kitchen. When he returned, she clumsily deposited the creature into the container and watched it a moment before crying, "Let's catch more!"

Rapunzel and Eugene were quick to participate in the requested action. Rapunzel basked in her daughter's excitement, happy to share an activity she'd longed to enjoy as a child.
When Aisling practically collapsed of exhaustion, Rapunzel and Eugene took her inside and tucked her in bed with Pascal, who was her official bedtime buddy. After they closed the door, Rapunzel went back outside to release the fireflies. Instead of letting them go right away, however, she plopped down cross-legged in the grass, examining the captive bugs curiously. Sure, she'd seen them before, but never up close like this.

She lost track of how long she sat watching them, and soon, Eugene came and sat down beside her, yawning. He was already in his nightclothes...or maybe she'd just been outside that long.
"Coming to bed tonight?" he teased gently, and she smiled, flushing.
"Yes, sorry. Just..."
"Lost in thought?"
"Yep," she glanced at him and widened her smile.
"About what?" was naturally his next question.
"Oh, just remembering the first time I caught a firefly. I'm glad we got to share tonight with our little girl, this memory."
"Your memory wasn't the best, I take it?" he asked.
"Well..." she laughed, pulling the scrap of fabric from the mouth of the jar and letting the bugs go. "Gothel killed it and said it was my fault."
"Ouch," he winced, but he was watching the fireflies zigzag and dance up into the sky, dispersing.
"What about you?" she asked, leaning up against him and setting the jar on her lap.
"First time I saw a firefly up-close, I was beating up some older kid at the orphanage. He'd pulled the wings off of it." he rubbed his jaw and then glanced down at Rapunzel, slipping his arms snugly around her. "Didn't end too well for me or the bug, but my point was made, I think."
"How old were you?"
"Five. He was twelve."
Not sure whether to laugh or grimace at her husband's previous bad-judgement, she bit her lip. "Yikes."
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Well, at least our kiddos will have good memories of them."
"Kiddos, plural?" she turned to look at him curiously. Had she missed something?
He paused, clearing his throat. "Someday. I hope. If you want."
Laughing at his obvious discomfort, she planted a kiss on his jaw. "Someday."