AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm back! (:

DISCLAIMER: Don't own Meet the Robinsons. Sorry.

She was screaming. That's all he could process. She was screaming and they wouldn't let him see her. She was just on the other side of the craft. He knew that. He could see the feet of the workers and the wheels of the stretcher that she was being placed on. But none of that mattered. She was screaming. She in pain and they weren't helping her. There was a man before him and the man was trying to assess his injuries, however, Wilbur was making it damn near impossible.

"Sir, you have to be still," the paramedic kept saying.

"Make her stop, let me see her," was always Wilbur's response.

Wilbur's wish was granted. Not the latter, the previous. Kolbie had slipped once again into unconsciousness. Wilbur sighed. Now the silence was unbearable. Now he couldn't hear her. When she was screaming at least he knew that she was still alive, now she'd fallen into unconsciousness, or what he thought was unconsciousness. Now he was panicked, well more the he had been before. Then medic seemed to give up on doing his job and let Wilbur up.

The young man jumped off the stretcher and suddenly felt dizzy. He'd hit his head in the accident and he wasn't really supposed to be moving around. They'd also mentioned that he had a few broken ribs on both sides and he really shouldn't be moving. But he had to see her. He needed to see her chest rise and fall. He needed to see her breathing. His hand drug along the metal of the car as he limped, due to bruising on his legs, to her side of the vehicle and then stopped short just before he should see her; afraid of what he would see. Wilbur took a deep breath and looked around the craft.

The sight before him wasn't as bad as he thought that it was going to be. She was bleeding, what seemed like from everywhere. There was glass in her arms and face. Her grey eyes were shut, one had gained a nice black color, and the other was just red. His heart shank when he saw her, lying motionless on the stretcher.

"Sir, you need to sit down," the medic said after a moment.

Wilbur stayed for a moment and watched her; his perfect fiancée, lying on the stretcher. He then sighed and allowed the medic to help him on to the ambulance. Once he was seated, the other medics pushed Kolbie's blooded body into the ambulance and a paramedic entered after him. Wilbur looked away from her, unable to look at the blooded version of his fiancée.

"Can I get your name, sir?" the man asked Wilbur.

"Wilbur Robinson," he said quietly.

"Like the son of Cornelius Robinson," the man asked in surprise. Wilbur nodded. "Would you like us to call him?" Wilbur shook his head. "And her?" he asked gesturing to the battered body of his fiancée.

"Kolbie Charles," he said. "She doesn't have a legal guardian, her father's dead. It's just us."

"We have to call someone, so we'll call your parents." Wilbur scoffed. "I'm sorry, son, just doing my job." His hand dug in his pocket and pulled out a ring. "I'm guessing you're engaged," he said as he showed the ring to the young Robinson. Wilbur nodded and took it. "I'd assume that she's going into surgery, you should hold on to this."

"Thank you," Wilbur said, and pocketed the ring.

When Wilbur's ambulance arrived at the hospital, Kolbie's stretcher was taken into the hospital, and as he was told later, straight into surgery. Wilbur was guided to a room and sat on a bed. Nurses came and poked and prodded his body. Then they took him for x-rays of his body, now certain that he had broken ribs. The least injured of the two. They then guided him to a room with two beds in it. One for him and one for Kolbie, he hoped.

"Wilbur," his mother's voice shouted as she ran into the room. She kissed her son's face and squeezed him roughly, not caring that he had broken ribs of each side of his body. "My baby," she said as she kissed his hair. "How are you?" she asked sitting on the bed beside him.

"I'm fine," he said quickly. "How is she?"

"I haven't heard," his mother said.

The police stepped into the room, looking slightly flustered. "Sir, we need to ask you some questions." Wilbur shifted in the hospital bed and nodded. "What happened today?" the first police man asked.

"A black craft was following us and then they hit us once, and then again, and then drove off."

"Who was driving the craft?"

"Don't know," Wilbur responded. However, he felt as if he did. The flash of red hair in the driver's seat plagued him.

"Who was driving your craft?"

"I was," he said.

"Were you aware that your passenger wasn't buckled up?"

Wilbur started to lie to the policeman, but knew that he shouldn't. "Yes, she never wears a seatbelt. When the craft hit us I tried to hold her back."

"That might have saved her life," a doctor said as they wheeled his fiancée into the room and he watched her. "She pulled through fine," the doctor said, "A little internal bleeding in her abdominal, but we got that. Two broken ribs and we have those set now. Her appendix was ruptured, so we removed that. She also has a very mild concussion."

"Thank you, doctor," Wilbur said, his voice sounded relieved but he looked worried still. "When will see wake up?"

"In a few minutes, the medicine to counter the anesthesia has already been administered." the doctor said.

"Thank you," Wilbur said, he shifted uncomfortably and looked at his mother.

"Officer's, I believe that you have gotten everything from my son," Franny said, understanding that her son wanted to be alone with his fiancée.

"Just one for question," the officer told him. "Did you get the license plate number?" Wilbur shook his head, and looked over at his fiancée. "Well, that's all. We'll let you know if we find anything," the officer said as he and his partner were ushered out of the room by Franny. Once they exited the room, Franny turned to her son and sighed. Wilbur gave his mother a small smile and she closed the door behind her.

Once the door was closed, Wilbur slipped out of the bed and walked to the bed that his fiancée was on. She was no longer bloody, but still bruised. Her eye was still black and above her blackened eye there were a few stitches. He sat down on the edge of her bed, brushing her bang away from her stitches. Her eyelids fluttered a little as he ran his fingers through her jet black hair. It was matted a little due to the dried blood. She blinked twice and then narrowed her light grey eyes to block out the white light in the room. Wilbur pressed a button behind her and the lights dimmed. Her light eyes opened and were unfocused as he watched her. Something in him broke. His eyes started to water, but he stopped them. He couldn't cry. He wouldn't.

"Wilbur," she said hoarsely, her eyes focusing a little more.

"Yeah?" he responded quietly, thinking that if he spoke quietly, his voice wouldn't break, but it did.

She turned to look at him and lowered her eyebrows, "What happened?"

"I'm sorry," Wilbur said suddenly, without answering her question. "I'm so sorry," he said, tears rolling from his brown eyes. Startled, by the tears Kolbie touched his chest and tried to quiet him. However, it helped none. He laid his head on her shoulder and cried into her black hair. "I saw the craft and I didn't pull over. It's my fault, Kolbie. This is my fault. I'm sorry." Kolbie rubbed his back, knowing that he needed to get these emotions out. "I swear, I didn't know. I didn't know that this would happen. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for this to happen. You could have-" He was unable to finish his sentence, unable to think about the death of his fiancée. They were silent as Wilbur cried into her shoulder and she stoked his dark hair. He exhaled, "Kolbie, you could have died. I might have been what killed you."

Not wanting to think about death, especially her own, Kolbie took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "Wilbur, Wilbur, you could have done nothing about this. This isn't your fault," Wilbur scoffed. "It's not it's not your fault. I'm okay," he scoffed again and brushed her dark hair off her stitches. "I'm fine." She leaned up and kissed him softly with her chapped lips. "I'm okay, okay? It's okay. We're okay, okay?" He scoffed and nodded. She looked up and noted that there was an absence of sparkling diamond on her ring finger. "Wilbur, I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Why are you apologizing?" he asked.

"My ring is gone," she admitted.

"No, no, no, I have it," he told her as he pulled it out of his pocket. He then stopped. "I just didn't think that you'd want to marry me after I almost killed you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Kolbie scoffed. "Gimmie my ring, but do it right."

"Will you still marry me, Kolbie Hope Charles, soon-to-be Robinson?"

"Of course, love," she answered calmly as he slipped the ring on her finger.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her lips. "You look good with that black eye," he told her. "You do," he confirmed when she made a face,"And don't do that. You'll pull your stitches." He kissed her again. "I'm sorry, love," he said again. "I'm sorry that this happened."

The raven-haired girl pulled her blanket back and patted the empty space beside her. Wilbur slipped into bed with her and kissed her neck. "Stop it," she said as he draped his arm over her careful of her broken ribs. Kolbie sighed and pressed her back against his chest gently. "I love you," she said quietly.

Wilbur kissed the top of her head and smiled. "I love you too."