A/N: I decided to write this fic in honor of Meet the Robinsons 10th anniversary. This movie meant a lot to me when I was younger (it was the first fandom I really wrote fanfiction for). Thus, it only felt right to honor it.

Pay phones in his time were mythical things. So, it seemed unreal that Wilbur Robinson was standing in front of one, feeding quarters into the money slot.

Everything considered, Wilbur had thought out this foray into the past more than he usually planned his days. He had done brief research on the Web into his father's past, using interviews, tabloids, social media feeds and other archived information to piece together how likely Cornelius would be in town on March 30th, 2017 (The answer: extremely likely.) Facebook posts from thirty years ago informed him that his mother was in the picture. They got engaged the following year, but Mom had probably moved in already. His grandparents lived there still, but they were so crazy that if they did happen to meet him during his travels, the would probably forget it altogether, or never connect the dots when Wilbur was around years later. Wilbur hated that his grandparent's failing memory was a positive thing. Wilbur had even made sure to scrounge around the Robinson household for out of circulation coins past the year 2017, in between couch cushions and especially lying in corners in the garage because he knew that current currency would most likely not work. He just hoped he wouldn't need pennies…

The time machine operated like his personal car, aside from entering a date before take off Nowadays, Wilbur was a licensed driver, but piloting the time machine at the age of thirteen had been more of a stomach churner. Back then, his only experience behind the wheel had been at a birthday party where they all went Go-Karting. Wilbur was lucky that he hadn't crashed the thing his first time out…outside of fighting with his father, leading to him tearing the wheel out.

He wasn't used to the watery blur when the time travel sequence began, and his spine went icy at the thought of accidentally materializing inside an office building or someone's living room if he flew too low to the ground. Instead, he arrived safely above his hometown city 30 years ago.

The city was in metamorphosis around this time. The drab brick faced skyscrapers were being replaced with the colorful, sinuous high-rises of his time. His father's auto building machines had yet to be perfected, so most of the landscape was still built the old-fashioned way and Wilbur could see the construction workers in their cranes putting together the buildings. Flying existed by this point, but they weren't common, with around 6,000 in the air The cloaking device on the time machine may have been smarter than anything else his father had invented. Unfortunately, finding a place to park was a tough call. He settled on next to the roof of a nearby parking garage, where he could easily step into it. He marked the time machine's location with a group of pebbles on the roof's lip.

So, now, here he was, dialing his father's mobile phone. (His research indicated that his father hadn't changed that phone number in ages). He figured he had better chances of getting a response from his father that way than the house phone, where his grandparents were more likely to answer.

After what felt like years of dial tones, someone picked up. "Hello. This is Cornelius' cell phone." Wilbur's throat dried up. She sounded much younger, but this was his mother. All the preparation Wilbur had almost evaporated, but he regained composure. "Hey, uh….Is he there? I wanted to speak with him."

"Sorry, but Cornelius is…..busy right now. Maybe you should call back later….much later." Something like a spider crawled up Wilbur's spine. His mother wasn't saying anything directly, but her tone was unmistakable. Wilbur pinched his nose and took a deep breath, trying not to read too much into what Franny was saying. "This is very important. Please."

He could mentally see his mother tilting her head and squinting her eyes, the way she got when she was suspicious. "Somehow, I doubt that." Wilbur suppressed a groan, but he heard some shuffling and someone else murmuring to his mother, then the phone being moved.

"Who is this?" Cornelius sounded annoyed, but very calm at the same time.

Wilbur sucked in a breath. "Hey, Dad….It's, uh….It's me."

The silence on the other end was nerve-wracking. What if his father didn't remember their time travelling adventure? In that case, Wilbur would probably play it off like a prank call and swiftly hang up. Instead, he heard "Hold on." then murmuring, and lots of shuffling, then a door opening and closing.

"Wilbur, where are you right now?" He sighed when he heard Cornelius say his name. His dad had confirmed that he, indeed, remembered him.

"I'm at a pay phone on 5th Street."

Before Wilbur could say anything else, Cornelius cut him off. "I'll be there shortly. Don't move." He hung up.

Wilbur hooked the phone back onto the receiver, shoving his hands into his pockets. He leaned against the telephone booth, trying to act casual, but he couldn't ignore how his stomach knotted up. Roughly a half hour later, his father approached him. Suddenly, he realized how old the Cornelius of his time was. This version of his father still had a full head of shocking blond hair that managed to stick straight up, like static electricity ran through it. His face was less wrinkle- creased, though he still had heavy bags under his eyes. His circular glasses perched on his nose, with wide blue eyes behind them were familiar, as were his typical button-up shirt and tie, sweater vest, khakis and dress shoes.

Wilbur opened his mouth to greet his father, aiming for a jovial tone to break the ice, but Cornelius spoke first.

"Why are you here?" Cornelius asked, his voice stern. His gaze darted over Wilbur, as if the answer to his question was written somewhere on him.

"I'm just here to talk, Da-Cornelius." Wilbur heard his voice crack a little. "That's all."

"I highly doubt that." Wilbur winced at Cornelius's tone. He didn't blame his dad for being cautious. The last time they had met each other like this, a man and a robotic bowler hat were plotting the destruction of the future as Wilbur knew it. He took a deep breath.

"I swear to God, Cornelius, there is nothing wrong, okay? No robotic creepy-crawlies, no stolen time machines- nothing. I just….really wanted to talk to you."

"And future me wasn't available?" Cornelius cheeks paled suddenly. "Am I dead?"

Wilbur waved his hands. "No! No, you're still alive."

"Then why aren't you talking to future me about…whatever it is you wanted to talk about?" Cornelius furrowed his eyebrows intensely.

Wilbur sighed. He should've figure his father wouldn't have accepted his arrival without an onslaught of questions. Jesus, he was older than Cornelius at present, yet Wilbur felt scolded. "Well….future you is destroying the time machines today…..and I…I just wanted to….I don't know….use it again? Before it's gone forever?" After he said it out loud, he realized how poor his reasoning was. To pilot a time-altering device for nostalgia's sake was selfish at best and potentially destructive at worst. "Plus….in the future, you're my old man...but in the past, you're….."

"…A peer?" Cornelius offered. His eyebrows relaxed.

"Yeah. Something like that."

Wilbur studied Cornelius, rubbing his Converse against the pavement. Cornelius chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully, gazing out somewhere behind him. Wilbur looked around him, watching people pass them. Some people would pause and whisper. They probably recognized Cornelius. Even now, before the height of his father's success as an inventor, he had attained celebrity status.

Cornelius exhaled through his nose. "In that case, Wilbur…" he looked back at his future son, a small smile on his lips. "…How does lunch sound?"

Cornelius took Wilbur to a burger joint that no longer existed in his time, though Wilbur didn't mention that a bike shop had taken its place. It had a rustic feel, with wooden seats, faux leather booths and low lighting. The host immediately recognized Cornelius and asked him who Wilbur was. Cornelius introduced him as a "family friend" from North Montana. After they had ordered drinks, Wilbur noticed that Cornelius was staring at him.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. He looked down at himself. "Is there something on my face?"

Cornelius shook his head. "No! No….I just….You look so much like Franny…It's unbelieveable."

"No kidding." Wilbur deadpanned. "What gave it away?"

Cornelius raised an eyebrow. He idly rubbed the stubble on his chin. "I guess I have your sass to look forward to."

Wilbur rolled his eyes. The waiter came by and dropped off their drinks. "I actually wanted to talk to you about the last time we met." He idly swirled the straw in his drink, the ice clattering.

Cornelius didn't respond, just watched him patiently.

"So, I think that the time travel affected us in different ways, because…" Wilbur struggled with his words. "I mean, it feels like I have been living two lives sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, after I got back to my time, I realized that I had two different set of memories? Like, one that existed before I travelled and one that exists because of the time travel. Sometimes, I don't know which memories actually happened to me."

"Hmm…What changed? What is the difference?"

"Goob, mostly."

Cornelius sat up more.

"Before I time travelled, I never knew much about Goob. You…You never talked about your past in the orphanage. You may have mentioned Goob once or twice, but it was always in passing. So I had no idea who he was when he stole the time machine. But then, after I got back from the future, suddenly he was like another relative. I have all these memories of him coming over the holidays with his family…going over to his place when I was hanging out with George-"

"Who's George?"

Wilbur blinked a couple of time. "His son." He pulled out his cell phone, a thin holographic sheet of glass. He flipped through the device to find a picture of him and George side by side. He smirked at George's smile, the way his hazel eyes glowed, his hair an unruly mop. He slid the device across the table.

"I can see Goob in his face. I guess you two are still close?"

Wilbur felt his face grow hot and he snatched up his phone. "Well, yeah. I'm dating him." He looked away from his father. He heard him laugh.

"Why are you embarrassed? That's great!"

"I'm not embarrassed. It's just-"

"-embarrassing?'

"Personal."

Cornelius was silent after that. Thank God. Wilbur wouldn't have exactly minded talking to his father about his boyfriend (If he were honest about it, he knew he could talk to Cornelius about it for hours if he could), but he got that feeling in his stomach that he would be judged for falling in love with a family friend. It felt wildly cliché, almost like he had been set up with George since he first met him back in kindergarten. When he brought George over one day after telling his family about his relationship, the entire household had applauded, which had George visibly uncomfortable. Then the unrelenting storm of questions: How long have you been dating? I told you they were going to be a couple. I could tell when they were kids.

"I'm guessing the family has been…invasive?" Cornelius took a sip of the iced tea he had.

Wilbur huffed. "You guys are way too nosy sometimes….all that attention." Wilbur drew his fingers through his hair. "Sometimes George hates when we visit. He gets drained really easily. I mean, he came over for play dates a couple of times, but I could always tell that he was never very comfortable around a lot of people so…..I don't know, we ended up mostly going to his place after school." Wilbur thought back to his years in elementary and middle school, how George would almost hide behind him whenever family members came up and asked him questions, or how George's shoulders would relax when they were finally alone in Wilbur's room.

"How serious is your relationship with him?"

"We live together."

Wilbur couldn't describe how Cornelius's face changed, but it softened. "Are you married?"

Wilbur's ears flushed, but he kept as best of a straight face as he could. "That's an excellent question."

When Cornelius didn't move to change the subject, he finally said. "No, we're not married. We've talked about it before, though."

"Are you using protection?" Wilbur practically choked on his drink. He gawked at his father, who was gazing at him casually, like he hadn't just asked an extremely personal question.

"What the hell? What kind of a question is that?"

"An excellent one." Cornelius's lips twitched into a smirk. Wilbur gritted his teeth. This man wasn't his father yet, but he still took every opportunity to poke fun at him.

"Dad, I am 23 years old. You've already given me 'The Talk' at this point!" he explained, exasperated. He covered his face with his hands.

"I'm sure I have. But considering that you are living with your boyfriend implies that you are-"

"OH MY GOD!" Wilbur's face was tomato-red and was never more grateful for their food to arrive. He immediately dug into the burger in front of him, hoping the meal would distract from the conversation.

"You still haven't answered my question." Cornelius eyed Wilbur impatiently.

Wilbur heaved a sigh. "Yes, we use protection…." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Cornelius sat back in his side of the booth, as if satisfied with Wilbur's answer. "Glad to hear it."

"So, what inventions are you working on?" Wilbur spat out his question immediately, needing to change the conversation as fast as possible.

"You would already know the answer to that, right?"

"Look, can you blame me for wanting to change the subject?"

Cornelius was silent at that. "So, let's return to what you were talking about originally, with your two sets of memories."

Wilbur chewed on his hamburger as he listened to Cornelius.

"How much have you talked about this to future me?"

Wilbur thought for a moment. "Once or twice. He seems to have only one set of memories, the one where I visited him in the future. You theorized that I hopped dimensions? Or that a new me was created after the events of the time travel resulting in a divergent timeline where events changed? It was very confusing."

"Time travel is inherently confusing that way. Have you ever heard of the Many Worlds Interpretation?"

Wilbur shook his head.

"Well, I won't bother with the gory details, but essentially the theory states that every time a choice is made there is a timeline that exists because of that choice. In the case of time travel, there is a world where you never time traveled to save me from Bowler Hat Guy and there is a world where you did. There is also a world where Goob never stole the time machine in the first place."

Wilbur mulled the idea over in his head. "So, basically, you're suggesting that I have memories of an alternate reality, one where I never time traveled?"

"In layman's terms." Cornelius looked hesitant, but Wilbur appreciated the fact that his father wasn't trying to over-explain the intricacies of quantum mechanics.

"And you only exist in one timeline?"

"Yes."

"…Does that mean that I was always meant to travel back in time?"

"That's a whole different matter entirely. The answer might depend on who you ask."

Wilbur's head swam a bit with this new knowledge, but instead of asking any more questions, he took another bite of his hamburger.

"Wilbur?"

He looked up from his food. Cornelius's face had softened again, only now his eyebrows were creased more than usual.

"Yeah?" he mumbled through the food in his mouth.

"Is there….Is there anything you wish was different?"

Wilbur set down his hamburger slowly. "I don't follow."

Cornelius's line of sight was on something behind Wilbur's shoulder. "I mean….do you….do you have a lot of fond memories of your childhood? Is there anything…you would have changed about the way you grew up?"

Oh. Suddenly, Cornelius looked smaller, deflated in the seat across from him. Even though he had passed puberty, Wilbur could briefly see the twelve year old he had brought to his future family, a young boy with nothing to his name, who only thought of himself as a failure, desperate for validation. He hadn't considered how his father might have changed upon meeting his future son.

"If you're worried about screwing up raising me, then don't be."

Cornelius's expression still looked clouded over. "Wilbur, be honest with me." His blue eyes stared at Wilbur.

"That was honesty, D-"

"No, it wasn't. No parent is perfect, especially not me."

"I didn't say you were perfect-"

"Then why aren't you telling me what I did wrong?" Wilbur shrunk at Cornelius's tone. He had seen his father frustrated before, obviously, but it was still unsettling sometimes.

"Why are you assuming you did anything wrong?" Wilbur asked him softly after a pause.

Cornelius opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Look, I'm not going to act like my childhood was problem-free. But in comparison to some of the kids at school, I might as well been living in paradise. I had so many people who supported me, you and Mom especially." Wilbur looked at Cornelius pointedly. He hoped Cornelius would relax, but his father still seemed to be waiting for a scathing critique of his parenting, even before he had properly become one. "But….you guys did put pressure on me. I don't think it was purposeful, but there was this….expectation that I was going to be stellar in school. Every teacher I ever had was always incredibly disappointed when I didn't get straight As, especially in the sciences." He thought back to high school, when his chemistry teacher had set up a conference with him, asking him why he was struggling so much. He had to tell her that he just wasn't good in the sciences. The teacher must have thought he was crazy. How could it be possible for the son of Cornelius Robinson to have a poor science grade average?

"The only subject I did amazing in was computer science, but that was it. In every other subject, I was a B student at best. You never were disappointed in me directly, but…I still felt like I was letting people down." Wilbur hung his head.

He heard his father shift in his seat. "I'm sorry it was like that. I can't say I can speak for my future self directly….To be brutally honest, I don't know you as well as my future self does, but….from the two times I met you, I can tell that you care a lot about doing things right. You are also very eager to impress others…..You did try to play yourself off as a member of some secret agency when we met."

Wilbur chuckled a little at the memory, especially the tanning salon coupon he had used as an ID badge. He didn't meet Cornelius's eyes.

"You know, Wilbur…You were the first person to ever truly believe in me, right?"

That got Wilbur's attention. He glanced up at his father, looking for the punchline to this obvious exaggeration. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

Wilbur's eyebrows furrowed. "But, that's impossible. You had to have teachers….you had Goob."

"Yes, but not with my inventions. They always failed before the Memory Scanner. Yet, you still insisted that I could actually make it work. Even when all evidence pointed to the contrary, you still believed in me." He smiled softly.

"I…"

"My point is that you will always be important to me, not just because you are my son, but because you are my friend as well. I owe you so much."

Wilbur was still lost for words. He met his father's eyes, seeing that they were seeking validation. "Just keep doing what you're doing, Dad. You'll be fine. I promise."

Cornelius let go of his shoulder. They kept eating their food, chatting casually until they paid. They walked until they had to part ways. Cornelius reached out a hand to shake, but Wilbur pulled him into a hug instead.

"See you soon, Dad. And thanks for humoring my weirdness." He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious. "I know time travelling wasn't the best decision but…I needed to talk to you like this."

Cornelius nodded. "Yeah, I think…it was good hearing from you again. I'll be seeing you soon."

Wilbur gave Cornelius one last wave before walking towards the parking garage where he had parked the time machine. As he stepped in, he thought about his younger father, about how much of a friend he felt. He smiled to himself as he reset the date and flew away.

I am upset that I wasn't able to post this directly on March 30th, but I took my time with this piece, which is the most important thing for me. I am debating whether I want to write a companion chapter/piece from Cornelius' POV, or more fics with Wilbur in them, so please let me know if that is something you would be interested in that

Thanks to that-guy-in-the-bowler-hat for reading this over before I posted it. I really appreciate his imput! You all should follow him on Tumblr!

I also have accounts on AO3 and Tumblr. Want to request a fanfic? Send me an ask or a PM!

-TheRationalDove