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Everyone slowly turned around to face the intercom, and Gaston shook his head sadly as he and Art carried the unconscious Franny into her room. Lucille slowly walked up to the speaker as Wilbur continued to call.
"Mum? Why won't you answ-"
"Wilbur, it's me."
"Grandma? Where did mum go?"
"She...well..."
"She what?"
"...she fainted."
"Fainted? Why?"
"Wilbur...is Cornelius there?"
"Yeah, but-"
"Please, Wilbur."
"Why not? What happened?" Lucille sighed softly into the speaker.
"Fine. Be that way. But dad better tell me what's going on, or I'll-" he was interrupted as Cornelius came into the conversation, and he could be heard ordering Wilbur away.
"Hey, mum. What's going on? I heard Wilbur say something about Franny-"
"Cornelius...Grace is dead."
"What?"
"I said...Grace...is dead."
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Wilbur watched sulkily from the desk as Lucille's voice said something quietly to his father. Surprisingly, it made Cornelius stand rock still for quite a while, making Wilbur wonder if he was having some kind of fit. Just as Wilbur was on the verge of leaving his seat to see if his dad was OK, Cornelius sat down heavily against the wall, drawing his knees to his chest. Wilbur watched in shock as the founder of the future pressed his head against his knees, hands gripping his blonde, spiky hair as he started to shake. Wilbur raced over to him and got on his hands and knees, trying to get a glimpse of Cornelius' face. Leaping up, he jammed his fist against the intercom.
"Grandma! What did you say to him? Even I can't get him to cry like that!"
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Voices tried and failed to filter through Cornelius' mind. He knew that his mother was deadly serious, which made it even harder to bear. He didn't even know how his tiny, darling daughter had died- not that it really mattered. She was still dead. He wondered idly how Franny had found out, and miserably slammed his hands against the unforgiving floor as he realised that they couldn't comfort each other -other than over the intercom- for another 2 months. Wiping at stray tears angrily, he refused to look up until Wilbur started shouting one-syllable questions at Lucille at a furious pace.
"WHAT? DEAD? HOW? WHEN? WHY? WHO? TELL ME!"
Eyes red and puffy for the very first time in his life, Cornelius sighed into his arms- just audiable enough for his son to hear him. Wilbur hesitated, then muttered an apology into the speaker and walked slowly over to his dad. Joining him on the floor, Wilbur leaned against his father as Cornelius' arms wrapped around his only child.
"She's really gone...isn't she?" Wilbur choked out suddenly, and buried his head into the comfort of his dad's chest. Sucking in deep, uneven breaths, Cornelius tightened his grip on the boy, and bit his lower lip to stop himself from sobbing.
They stayed that way all night.
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One week later.
Franny and Cornelius had spent roughly three hours over the intercom the morning after Grace's death. Carl handed out earplugs, and Franny made sure the whole family were wearing them. Wilbur opted to sleep in under his pile of blankets until his parents had somewhat finished their emotional outbursts.
After a long and depressing call with Doctor Osborne, Franny was told that Grace had suffered from SIDS- Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, also known as cot death. Knowing that their baby girl had passed away in her sleep had only slightly eased the woman's troubles, and Cornelius had another hell of a night when it was explained to him.
Cornelius currently sat at his desk, slowly turning over the remains of the Lightsaber in his hands. Wilbur saw this, and hurriedly tried to get his mind on a lighter subject- or at least, something he wasn't the cause of. Wilbur had driven his father mad over the last week, breaking inventions of all sizes with his Chargeball glove as he tried to ward off boredom and depression. Chucking a pillow in his dad's direction, he called out:
"So, what do you actually do in here?" Cornelius raised an eyebrow.
"You mean, besides the blatantly obvious."
"Yeah."
"Nothing." This caused Wilbur to raise an eyebrow of his own.
"You don't do anything in here besides invent? Sheesh. What a nerd."
"You have inherited half of my genes, you know. That would make you at least half a nerd."
"That's not the point."
"Then what is the point, Wilbur?" Cornelius asked, slightly impatient.
"The point is, we have nothing to do in here except mope around. Which we do enough anyway."
Cornelius mulled this over for a minute, then made a decision. Getting up, he shimmied down a side ladder into the storage area for his lab. Wilbur curiously listened from upstairs as he heard his father's unhurried movements and boxes being moved around. Emerging from the small room, Cornelius held a rather dusty, black and white electric guitar in his left hand, and an old CD case in the other. Wilbur grinned and leapt for the 'ancient' instrument, but his father was having none of it. Lifting it high above his head, he waited until Wilbur's snatching attempts died down.
"Finished?"
Wilbur grunted and sat back down, glaring at his father for ruining his fun.
"This was my 18th birthday present from Bud, believe it or not. He said that such a talented musician like Franny shouldn't go out with a man who had absolutely no talent for the subject himself," Cornelius explained. "He taught me, but mostly I just taught myself. I...wrote a song for Franny once when we were going through a rocky period, but she never heard it," he muttered, blushing. "She doesn't know it, but I borrowed her frog band a few nights for a week and recorded the other instruments in the song on this CD," he said, fishing one from the pile. Wilbur was fascinated.
"Can you sing?" Cornelius blushed an ever darker shade of red, and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Um, yeah...a bit...no one knows though," he added, casting a stern glance at his son.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. For now," Wilbur muttered the last part inder his breath, hiding a grin. Mission accomplished. He's not thinking about Grace, or this mess I got us into. And we might finally have some fun! Sitting down, Cornelius started tuning his guitar as Wilbur demanded:
"Play your song for me!"
"No."
"Why not? If it's all mushy and lovey dovey stuff I withdraw the question."
"Unfortunately for Franny, I'm not really that kind of guy and you know it."
"Well what's the problem then?" Cornelius sighed.
"The fact that I haven't played this song in 20 years doesn't bother you at all?"
"20 years?! Wow. You're prehistoric, old man."
"My self-esteem really loves you."
"Who doesn't? C'mon, dad! You can teach me it!"
"Why don't you learn something else? What's so good about my song?"
"The fact that you refuse to tell me it."
Cornelius seemed to have some kind of internal struggle for a minute, before uttering a single "Fine. Give me a few minutes." Wilbur nodded eagerly and got up, heading for the storage ladder. After poking around in all the boxes for any other instruments and/or strange surprises, Wilbur returned to his spot next to his dad. After inserting his CD into an old stereo, Cornelius glanced at Wilbur, then cleared his throat nervously as he strummed a few bars.
"No laughing."
Wilbur shrugged. "No guarantees."
Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that day, Cornelius hit the 'play' button on the stereo and softly began to play.
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A/N: I officially declare that anyone who writes reviews (especially to this story) are absolute legends. Worthy of superhero type medals, etc. So join your local Avengers today, and hit that button in the corner!!!