Break my heart.

A.N.: This is finally going to be completed! It's kind of depressing though…and it didn't start out that way. Hope it isn't to cheesy and that they're all [mostly] in character. anyway, read on and R & R as well.

Disclaimer: None are mine! Except for Aaron/Eric and Wendy his mother, everyone else belongs to their respective owners and this fanfic is purely for entertainment only.

Marguerite stood staring into the bedroom where Aaron's mother was resting. She was propped up against pillows and her face was ashen—a sharp contrast to her raven black hair. She was cradling Aaron gently in her lap and Aaron was staring up into his mothers face, in that intent, inquisitive way he always did.

Veronica, Ned and Challenger were all standing around her, Challenger was feeling her forehead for a temperature, Veronica was wringing off a cool wet cloth and Ned was trying to talk her into eating some soup.

"What if she isn't Aaron's mother? What if she's lying?" Marguerite leaned against the door frame, she knew how stupid she sounded, but she could help it.

John looked over at Marguerite, she was wearing the same clothes as the day before and her hair was pulled into a loose tangled bun. "She's not taking him away from you Marguerite, she's taking him home."

Marguerite burst into tears; everyone started and looked over at her, Aaron turned to look at her, his hand tightly clutching a handful of his mother's shirt sleeve.

"Ex—Excuse me," Marguerite murmured. John followed her into the kitchen, where he saw her frantically chopping a root. He made a slight face, worried she might chop one of fingers off.

"Can't I say anything right?" John demanded.

"It's all right," Marguerite whispered, "I don't know what's come over me. I know you're right, I know you are. It's just, so hard to let go." She slowly turned around, and when realized she was still holding the knife she put it down. She saw a bottle they had forgotten to give Aaron. She picked it up and sniffed it suspiciously. Thankfully it was still good, she padded into the bedroom. "Aaron," she said, not sure if he had heard her.

But Aaron looked up and slowly got off the bed. "Marguite," he said teetering over to her. He held up his hands, clenching and unclenching his hands.

"Why does she keep calling him Aaron? His name is Eric," a faint voice whispered.

"Baa, baa, baa," Aaron declared happily as Marguerite handed him his bottle, he buried his face into her shoulder.

"When we found him, we didn't know what his name was," Challenger explained. "We didn't know how long we'd be keeping him, so we decided to give him a name." He smiled, "we didn't know…we didn't know if anyone was alive."

"Oh," the young woman replied, "I named him after my husband you know," she whispered, "looks just like him."

Veronica smiled softly, "you really need to rest now."

"Who is that?" The young woman wondered.

"Marguerite," Ned said, giving up on the soup. He put it down on the bedside table.

"Marguerite?" The woman repeated, Marguerite saw her looking her way, "might I be able to speak with you for a while?"

"You need—"

"Then I will get my rest," the woman smiled, beckoning Marguerite to come in. Marguerite looked stricken.

"Do it," Challenger said as he walked past her, "it might do you some good."

Veronica reached over and took Aaron.

Marguerite inched her way into the bedroom and perched on the chair that Challenger had been occupying. She clasped her hands together uncomfortably.

"So you're Marguerite, I'm Wendy. I bet you've been wondering." Aaron's mother smiled, "I was so worried for him—Eric, thank you so much for caring for him."

"It was no trouble," Marguerite answered stiffly.

Wendy's face clouded over, and she looked Marguerite straight in the face. "I know what you must think of me," she began softly. "I never meant for it to happen."

"Why?" Marguerite blurted out, "why did you leave him?"

Wendy's deep brown eyes were sad, "honestly? I hoped people like you would find him. But then I realized my mistake; it all seems so foolish now. But I followed you back here, to the treehouse."

"Anything could have happened to him," Marguerite pointed out as kindly as she could. "There's raptors around here; and cannibals, and ape men."

"But nothing did happen to him, he's safe and for that I am thankful."

"How will you care for him?" She wondered, then thought better of her words. "Oh—I'm sorry, that was wrong of me to say…"

Wendy shook Marguerite's apology away. "You're right. Somehow I hope to get home."

Marguerite decided not to mention the fact that she and the others had been trying to find a way off the plateau for months with no hope. "You really should get some rest." Marguerite said finally.

"I will," Wendy yawned, "you take good care of Eric."

"I will," Marguerite stood up and it was all she could do to not bolt out of the room at full speed. When she reached the kitchen she let out a big breath and planted her hands on the counter. "She's asleep, finally."

"It's only best," Challenger said, "I'm worried about her."

"That's good," Ned replied

John took Aaron from Veronica's arms, then wrinkled his nose, "I think someone needs a change," she held a hand over her nose.

"He's filthy," Veronica interjected, "how long has he been wearing those pajamas?"

"A couple of days anyway," Ned said, taking a sip of Aaron's bottle, he wasn't paying attention to where he was looking and grabbed it instead of his tea cup. He sputtered and spat the formula into his tea cup. "That stuff is disgusting? How can that little guy stand it?"

Everyone tried to hide their smirks, glad to have a reason to smile; they hadn't been doing much of it for the past three days.

"I think Aaron needs a bath," Marguerite declared, patting Ned's shoulder.

Ned nodded, "I think that's a good idea. Might as well have him looking his best."

"I'll stay here with Wendy," Challenger said smiling, "just in case she needs something. I'm pretty sure you three can handle him."

John shot Challenger a look. "You're kidding right?"

"Aaah!" Aaron cried out happily as Ned gathered together Aaron's baby bath.

"Has anyone else around here attempted to give him a bath?" John wondered, "save Marguerite of course." He shook his head and shouldered his gun, "forget about raptors.

Marguerite and Veronica were arguing about clothes and Ned shook his head and grabbed a towel.