AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have no words. Wait, yes, I do. This chapter is kind of rushed, but I need to get the plot moving. I'm thinking about making this a trilogy... Opinions?

DISCLAIMER: I still don't own Meet the Robinsons.

"Is my son okay?" the blond inventor shouted at the brown haired man. The man just ignored him and continued to watch the screen before him. "Is he okay?"

"For now," the man replied nonchalantly.

The living conditions for Cornelius Robinson had bettered, if one can call the changes better. No longer was the large haired inventor confided to a corner. He was chained to a wall by his wrist. His bright blond hair was dull and limp. His brilliant blue eyes were dark. His lanky build was thinner than it had been. One could see the inventor's ribs through his filthy white lab coat. He was in no better shape, but as least he wasn't confided to a corner.

"Leave him alone," Cornelius begged. "Why are you doing this to him? You've got me what more do you want?"

The man was silent. "I had a family, before you fired me. I had a son, about his age. He's a senior in high school now. They left me when you fired me. They said I wasn't providing for them; which was true. I wasn't providing for them. But I was going to provide for them. I was going to kidnap you. Oh, that was always the plan. However, I was just going to hold you for ransom. I think I could have held you for a few million dollars. However, when you fired me, I had nothing. Now, I want you to have nothing."

"That girl," the blond said, "That girl that he's always with; spare her this pain. She's had enough pain in her life, spare her this. She'll have nothing if she loses him."

"That's sweet," the man said. "However, there's nothing that you can do about it. Now, if you'll excuse me it's my bedtime. Goodnight, Mr. Robinson."

Cornelius glared until the lights flicked off. He then waited a moment, before he pulled against the chains holding him to the wall. The bolts rattled a little and he pulled again, and again, and again. This is how he spent his nights. Tugging at the chains and loosening the bolts, so that he could free himself. Weeks had passed since he was freed from the barred corner, and that's how long he'd been pulling and tugging at the chains. His wrists were red and bruised from the pulling. He pulled and tugged for hours. He had no hope that he would be free anytime soon. However, he pulled and tugged. Until, the bolts fell from the wall. The bolts clanked on the floor and the inventor back against the wall in case the madman holding him captive came to check on him. However, he never came.

The man then walked silently, to the phone on the other side of the room. Gently, he picked up the receiver and then dialed the first number that came to mind, hoping that the call would be answered.

Kolbie pushed Wilbur's shoulder and mumbled something about the phone. When he ignored her, she rolled out of bed and took the sheets with her. Wilbur mumbled something under his breath and sat up. Kolbie reached up and pulled the phone off the charger and hit the green button.

"Hello," she said sleepily.

"Kolbie," the inventor answered.

"Mr. Robinson, you know that your calls aren't welcome here," she responded.

"No, no, wait wait," he whispered loudly. Kolbie and Wilbur, Kolbie more so that her fiancé recognized the tone of voice the elder Robinson was using. It was much like the tone that Kolbie used when she first moved into the Robinson household a year ago. He needed their help.

"What's going on," Wilbur asked. His voice was tense, but he knew that his help was needed.

"I can't tell you now. Can I come there?" Cornelius asked the son who thought that he hated him.

Kolbie and Wilbur exchanged looks and the Wilbur nodded in the darkness. "Yeah, you can."

After a hurried thanks, Cornelius hung up the phone. Kolbie and Wilbur stared at the phone as the dial tone toned. Kolbie who was wrapped up in the sheets from the bed, started to untangle herself from the sheets, with little success. Wilbur leaned over the bed and assisted in peeling the sheets from her body. He then pulled her up on to the bed and ran his fingers through her dark hair.

"Are you okay?" she asked carefully.

"That was my father," he said to her. "That man that was on the phone was my father."

"Yes," she responded.

"No, THAT man was my father. The man that's at home with my mother and sister isn't my father."

Kolbie buried her face in the crook of his neck. He gripped the fabric of her hoodie in his hand roughly. She whimpered a little as he pinched her skin, but he didn't seem to care. She knew that he wasn't intentionally hurting, her but in her mind she was reminded of the years of pain and torture she went through with her father and it all she had to not hit him. The pain only lasted a moment, and he kissed the side of her neck in apology. Wilbur then stood and walked into the kitchen. Kolbie followed him. He'd turned on the water and was holding the kettle under the running water, his hand shaking. She walked up to him and took the kettle from his shaking hand and placed it on the stove, before turning on the eye. Wilbur wrapped his arms around her waist as they watched the blue flame under the kettle.

Cornelius snuck out of the house successfully. He inhaled slowly, the fresh air that he'd been longing for. He selected the craft closest to the edge of the neglected driveway. The blond put the craft in neutral and pushed it out of the driveway. The task took a long while seeing as he was weaker than usual. However, he soon got the craft out off of the neglected driveway. He was sure he was safe to start the craft at that location, so he did. The craft started loudly causing Cornelius to look up at the house and see that there was a light on that hadn't been before. Panicked, he jumped into the craft and sped off down the road.

Wilbur was starting at the door. Kolbie was sitting behind him, her arms wrapped loosely around his waist, because every few seconds he would stand and start pacing. On the table that sat beside the futon they were sitting on, sat two cups of coffee. Kolbie's was half empty and Wilbur's hadn't been touched. Wilbur's hands were folded under his chin and his elbows on his legs. Kolbie, after deciding that he'd decided to stop pacing, laid her face on his back. She could hear his angry, impatient heartbeat. She stroked his back and ran her fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him. It worked to some extent, the muscles in his back relaxed and he leaned back against her chest.

Until, there was a rapping at the door. He tensed all over again, but didn't move. Kolbie knew that Wilbur wasn't going to go an answer the door, and untangled her arms from his torso. She slipped up and walked to the door. She looked through the peephole and stopped the malnourished inventor at their door. "My God," the girl said as she pulled the door open. "Mr. Robinson," she said. "Would you like something to eat?"