A/N: Hoo...okay, well, this is my first story that I published, and I'm absolutely terrified. No idea why. Anyway, this is a little, uh, what would you call it? No idea. It's sort of like one of the scenes from Wilbur's POV. Most of the dialogue is the same (a long with some that I added), and I went off memory, so if everything isn't in tip-top shape, I'm sorry. No really... it kills me... One more thing, sorry if it's a bit OOC! Again, first time publishing whilst possibly- hopefully- getting feedback. Italics areWilbur's thoughts. Enjoy~
Disclaimer: I do not own Meet the Robinsons, its characters, Disney, and most of the dialogue. Blahblahblah. The only thing I own is some dialogue and my opinions.
…It Hits Hard
"What do you say, Lewis?"
No, mom.
Stop, mom.
Mom.
Mom.
Don't.
Mom.
Please.
Mom.
Please mom.
Wilbur Robinson's unheard protests went, well, unheard. So the best he could do was give her the "look." Or at least try.
But she wasn't paying attention.
And as he swept his desperate don't-do-it gaze over the rest of his family, Wilbur realized that no one was paying attention. They were all looking at the blonde inventor with hope and love in their eyes.
The inventor who was already part of the family now.
Who everyone already loved now.
Who was his father.
Now.
Of course, no one knew that, except Wilbur, who was now panicking. And the family robot, Carl, who was also panicking.
They exchanged a fretful glance just as Franny spoke again; Wilbur's brown eyes flitting back to his mother.
"Do you want to be a Robinson?"
Gah! No! Say no, please Lewis. Say no!
His already pounding headache, from being whipped around by a giant reptile, had progressed to splitting his head apart.
Literally.
Ok, that was over exaggerating, but still!
The youngest Robinson watched his friend with bated breath, unable to move, to breath, to interrupt this moment in any way.
What could he do? Tell his mom that he didn't want him as a brother? Cause he already has him as a dad?
Well, no, he couldn't say the latter, that would just defeat the whole purpose. But every single member in his family would probably chew him out on it anyway, not to mention Lewis would never look at him again, let alone trust him.
It was his fault they were in this mess anyway, ignoring the whole leave-the-garage-door-open-stolen-time-machine part.
He was the one who told Franny Lewis was an orphan.
Really, he'd just set himself up for it.
The Robinsons couldn't leave a troubled kid to stay that way.
"You- you wanna adopt me?"
I should've just said he was mute; let him run with it. Honestly it probably would've worked. Wait no. No I couldn't. That was after he left the garage and met my whole family. This is all going downhill! Further than it already was before! No. Lewis no. No don't smile!
Wilbur's expression turned to pure horror as the younger boy nodded, his smile growing wider and wider as he truly realized what was happening.
Wilbur's family erupted into a dragged out cheer, aside from Carl and himself, and he flinched, pulling his hands to his chest as if stung. He didn't bother taking in the delighted smiles of his cousins, the tears welling up in his mother's eyes, no. The first thing Wilbur did was look at the robot, who was in a mirrored position.
They locked gazes and suddenly Carl became serious. He could still tell that his friend was worried underneath it all, and couldn't help but agree with his next actions.
No matter how much trouble he'd be in.
No matter how hard it would be.
The robot drew a hand vertically across his extendable neck, changing the artificial pupils in his blue eyes to very noticeable x's, signalling that Wilbur needed to drop this plan.
Now.
Cut it off before it went any further.
Right now.
Thankful that no one saw the exchange between machine and human- and Wilbur's shocked and terrified face- he did the one thing that came to mind. And quickly.
Pretending to bring a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, or stretch, he didn't really know-
He didn't really care-
Wilbur knocked the baseball cap off of Lewis' head.
There was a chorus of terrified and shocked gasps as his wild hair shot up into place.
He was instantly recognizable.
The young Robinson couldn't bear to see the look on his family's faces, which were probably all directed at him, so he turned to Lewis.
"Okay, it's true," he seemed to resist the urge to roll his eyes at everyone, "I'm from the past! Now you know the big secret."
The boy's words fell on deaf ears.
"Wilbur," said boy flinched at his mother's tone. It was that building-up-anger whisper, something between disappointed and furious at the same time.
What he had feared.
"What have you done? How could you bring him, here?"
Raising a finger for emphasis, he opened his mouth to speak, "That is an excellent question!" What had he done? Well, let's think shall we?
One, I let one time machine get stolen and used the other without permission.
Two, I went to the past and totally screwed up the time stream.
Three, I broke the one I had. No, no that was Lewis. Aw, who am I kidding? I had as much responsibility as he did.
Four, I almost got us killed by a dinosaur.
Five, I lied to my whole family. Except Carl.
Six, I am currently still stuck in a lie with my best friend.
Good God, I'm horrible.
His thought was only proven as the younger boy actually came to his defense. He actually had wanted to just take the punishment now. Get it over with.
But nooo.
Lewis just had to be a- a friend…
Wilbur's face fell along with his hand at Lewis' next words.
"Please, don't get mad at Wilbur! He was just being a good friend."
That cut. Deep.
In all honesty, Wilbur had been a horrible friend, though he supposed saving him had to count for something.
But still.
He was anything but good right now. The guilt of what he had done was eating the Robinson up alive. And it was definitely new for him to feel that way. Usually everything would have straightened itself out by now.
But not this time.
This time it just made itself get worse.
And as it got worse, the guilt kept growing.
Guilt, Wilbur thought bitterly, finding it painful to watch the rest of the scene unfold before him, is- is- is stupid.
That was disappointing.
Like me.
Ugh, shut up guilt!
And having a guilty conscience was something Wilbur had grown to despise.
"Lewis," his mother sighed, "I'm so sorry, but you have to go."
"What? But you just said-"
"I know what I said," she squeezed her eyes shut, on the verge of tears.
As if simply interrupting the poor boy had pained her.
Wilbur stared at the ground uncomfortably. He couldn't bear to look at either of their faces. Lewis' most likely bewildered and disappointed, his mom's a mixture of sadness and pain.
"I'm from the past! So what?" His voice was growing unnaturally high with emotion; Wilbur frowned slightly.
"Lewis."
He instantly regretted looking up right at that moment.
"Lewis, look at me."
His mother had pulled the younger boy's chin up gently so that their eyes met, blue on brown, each welling up.
"You're a great kid, and we would never do anything to hurt you, but I'm sorry," she let go, standing up straight as Lewis looked away, "you have to go back to your own time."
The guilt overriding, Wilbur spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "Yeahh, about that…" he avoided eye contact, "one of the time machines is broken, aand the other was stolen by a guy in a bowler hat, which kinda explains the dino."
He pointed towards the Tyrannosaurus Rex, which was rocking back and forth innocently. It stopped as Franny looked towards it, a hand on her hip; it cocked its head curiously.
She sighed, and that was when he knew how much trouble he was in.
"I'm calling your father," she spun on a heel, turning back towards the large Robinsons' household, the rest of the family making room for her.
He flinched again.
"Wait!" Lewis exclaimed suddenly, a lot more bitterly than he probably intended, "Can I at least go back and find my mom?"
Wilbur paled, eyes growing wide at the boy's comment.
Really, Lewis? Did you have to bring that up now? He had wanted to shout, and would have too, if Lewis hadn't continued.
"Wilbur promised."
This is it. I'm dead. My amazingly short and awesome life is coming to an abrupt end.
Franny turned to her son with a heated fire in her eyes, the rest of the family backing her up, "You promised what?"
It was a record amount for how many times he had flinched that night, and when he looked up at his mother's furious gaze, the truth came spilling out.
"I was never gonna do it! I swear!" He said hastily, completely forgetting about the younger boy beside him. And when he did remember, he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth.
Lewis rounded on him, his anger mirroring Franny's, "You lied to me?"
By now Wilbur was just all out panicking.
He'd ruined everything.
And now he was going to pay.
"Nooo…!" he lied, dragging the word out until guilt took the wheel again, "Yes."
Lewis narrowed his eyes into tiny slits, turning around.
"Lewis!" Wilbur tried to grab his friend's attention again, "Lewis, wait!" He extended an arm as the boy began to walk away, about to talk again.
To tell him he was sorry.
To tell him—to tell him something.
Anything.
He doubted Lewis would believe it, but he couldn't just- just leave.
And he didn't.
Just yet.
The boy swivelled around, his face red with both anger and despair, "I can't believe I was dumb enough to actually believe you were my friend!" Lewis full-out shouted at the other boy, who took a startled step back, only to compose himself as he turned again, stomping away.
"I- I am your friend!" He called just as hurt as Lewis, whose stomping broke out into a run.
Wilbur stared after the other boy dejectedly, vaguely hearing his mother say something about being grounded.
But he didn't care.
He probably- no, did just lose his best friend. His first best friend.
Despite being a son of the famous Robinson inventor with the quirky family that fascinated everyone, Wilbur didn't have many friends. His closest being a robot, Carl, who was also mad at him.
Great, he stared at the ground, sighing, this is probably the worst day of my whole entire life.
He was aware that everyone else had left the vicinity, besides him, leaving him to sort out the mess he had created, drowning in guilt.
And that wasn't an exaggeration.
Seven, I try to tell the truth and it blows up in my face.
Eight, I just broke a bond I had with my dad. Who doesn't even know he's my dad yet!
Wilbur pressed his hands to his face, a little harder than he usually would, a choking feeling in the back of his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as his mother had done earlier, ready to let the unfamiliar tears fall.
But then a thought struck him.
Where did Lewis go? He couldn't have gotten that far, but-
Wilbur Robinson what the heck do you think you're doing? Standing here feeling sorry for yourself? Your former best friend is out there alone with a freak who wants him dead! And whether he likes it or not, Lewis still needs your help! So get going!
The little pep-talk in his head seemed to push the teen into action. With a wipe of his quickly drying eyes, he sprinted off in the direction Lewis had gone.
He was suddenly grateful for the lanky legs he'd inherited from his mom; it definitely gave him an advantage over the shorter boy, who was already less active than the Robinson.
"Lewis!" he called, rounding the corner, head turning in every direction, "Let's just talk about this, Lewis!"
With no answer, he continued to run towards the top of the hill, it would prove a better view after all, "Come on!"
He even turned around, talking long strides backwards just in case he missed the boy, "I know you're around here somewhere! Lewis!"
His heart nearly skipped a beat as he spun back around, reaching the top of the hill.
Right there, about twenty feet in front of him, was Lewis.
And reaching his hand down, leaning out of a flying, bright blue vehicle, was a middle aged man, clad in black, his mouth pulled into an evil, yellow-toothed grin.
"Bowler hat guy," Wilbur whispered, brown eyes widening. He turned his gaze back to Lewis, who was staring back.
No!
He even mouthed it, staring desperately at the younger boy.
But it was no use.
Lewis' eyebrows shot down into a furious glare, and dread creeping into his heart, Wilbur watched as he grabbed the man's outstretched arm.
In one, final, frantic attempt to reach him, Wilbur ran forwards again, closing the gap just as the time machine flew off in the direction of the city.
"Lewis!" he screamed, stopping just where the vehicle had been, "You- you idiot! I can't believe you just did that! I am- I am going to kill you when you get back!"
If he gets back.
Wilbur stopped his pointless shouts, dying down to heavy breathing.
If.
That was the big thing here.
What am I supposed to do? I can't run to the city! I can't- I can't drive! I can't- tell anyone…
With a small gasp, he spun around, stumbling slightly as he sprinted down the hill, back towards the Robinson house.
"Carl!" Wilbur shouted into the fast approaching night air, "Carl! Carl! Carl! Carl!"
The small antenna on said robot twitched slightly.
Carl's eyes narrowed as it picked up an obnoxiously familiar frequency.
Over and over and over.
"Oy vey," he mumbled, glaring at the long hall that stretched ahead of him.
"Is something the matter Carl?"
He twisted his head towards the voice; Tallulah, who had been walking next to him, had her head cocked, large green eyes wide with curiosity. One of them, he noticed with the smallest of frowns, had been bruised until black.
Carl sighed.
Unable to look anyone straight in the eye right now, especially if most were injured, he turned his gaze forward, but spun his body the opposite direction.
"I just had this sudden premonition that my already fantastic night is going to go further down the drain."
No answer.
"Yeah," he sighed, his cylindrical head already a few feet from his body, "I'm off for a walk."
And without even waiting for an answer, Carl reeled his neck back to its usual length, taking the long way to the annoying brat he had come to know and care for as a brother.
Even if it meant certain doom.
Which knowing Wilbur, it probably did.