A/N: Hello there! I'm so glad you're still here, truly. I had a great time writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoy reading it.
I just want to point out that up until this point I haven't mentioned Wilbur's middle name, but I gave him one a while back. It's pretty clever, especially if you look up the meaning behind it. ;)
I'm thinking there will be one more chapter after this and an epilogue and then this story will be over. D:
Not to worry, though. I still have plenty of ideas for stories, so stay tuned!
Disclaimer: I definitely don't own Meet the Robinsons
Enjoy!
Chapter 14: Emotional Commotion
June 2036
It felt like weeks had gone by without Wilbur seeing his dad. He was the fun one, always letting the little boy run around and just be himself, while his mother always seemed to put an immediate end to his excitement. By the time he was eleven he had been in trouble so often he thought "Grounded" was his middle name.
The black-haired boy wandered around the house, passing the doors to the upstairs laboratory, eyeing it suspiciously. It was quiet up there-too quiet. Just as he turned to climb the stairs a voice stopped him.
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
Wilbur froze, opting not to turn around and face the wrath of Carl (who could be really frightening for an easily-influenced robot. What a pushover). "Relax, Carl," he said in his still pre-pubescent voice. "I just want to look."
"Uh-uh." The robot extended an arm, turning the boy around by his shoulder. "You know your dad banned you from the lab."
Wilbur rolled his eyes. "That was ages ago. I'm sure he's forgotten by now," he said, escaping the robot's grasp and sprinting up the stairs. He paused at the double doors, hand poised to open it.
"What's the matter? Got stage fright?" Carl taunted.
The kid rolled his eyes again. "Yeah right." Slowly he pushed the door open, looking around the room for any sign of his dad. The room was empty. He glanced back at Carl. "The coast is clear," he said, walking into the room. He looked around, now having a better view of the room. "Dad?" he called out, part of him hoping he would get an answer.
Silence.
Wilbur frowned, turning to Carl, who wore the same expression. "Where is he?" Carl shrugged. "I bet he's working on the thing. Do you know what it is?" he said, eyeing the robot.
"Your dad's kept this thing more secret than the aliens in Area 51, what makes you think I know?" he said, crossing his noodle-like arms.
Wilbur huffed. "Gee, thanks for the input." He turned back around, his eye catching a shiny machine in the corner. "Whoa, what's that?" he said, running to the object, nearly tripping on wires as he did so.
"Uh, Wilbur, don't you think we should get out of here? Your dad doesn't even like when I'm up here. He's not gonna be happy when he finds out you were messing with his lab equipment."
"That's why we won't tell him," Wilbur said, not bothering to look back at him. "I wonder what this does."
Before the kid had the chance to even touch the machine a loud buzz broke the silence, followed by a large holographic image appearing in front of him.
"Wilbur, what are you doing?" Cornelius said, the holograph of him flickering, the sign of a brand-new invention. Wilbur froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Further observation on the kid's part would reveal his dad was in the house somewhere, but clearly nowhere Wilbur had even been. "You know you're not supposed to be up here," the deep voice boomed over the intercom.
Wilbur smiled sheepishly, lowering his hand. "S-sorry, dad. I was-uh-sleepwalking! Yeah, sleepwalking." He pointed a thumb at Carl. "He was just waking me up when you buzzed in."
"What?" Carl said indignantly. His optics landed on Cornelius. "Can you believe this?"
Cornelius fought hard not to laugh at the poor robot. Every time Wilbur was caught red-handed, Carl always seemed to be right behind him. "Out. Now," he said before disappearing.
"What a killjoy," Wilbur said.
...
July 2036
"Wilbur," Franny called, knocking on his bedroom door. Silence. Her brows furrowed. "Wilbur?" she called again. Still nothing. What was it with the men in the house not answering when called? She pushed open the door, only to find her little boy hoverboarding dangerously close to the edge of the loft where his bed was. Her eyes widened. "Wilbur Maximus Robinson, what are you doing?!" she shrieked as he jumped off the edge. He was midair when he realized she had entered the room, immediately losing his concentration and falling on his rear end.
"Wilbur!" she cried, running over to examine the damage. "Are you okay? What were you thinking?"
"I'm fine, mom. Didn't even hurt," he said, already working on standing up. Franny frowned at him in that deeply disapproving way that she had mastered. "Did you need something?"
She exhaled, shaking her head. "No, I didn't. But your father asked for you."
Wilbur perked up. "He did? What for?"
"Says he wants you to help him with something. Take the travel tube in the lab, it'll lead you to where he is."
He cocked his head. "And that would be…?"
Franny smiled and winked. "You'll see."
...
Wilbur followed his mother's instructions and took the travel tube in the lab to an unknown part of the house. It had seemed like a long trip between the observatory room to where his father was. As soon as he landed his eyes widened. "Whoa…" he said, his mouth hanging open slightly.
Cornelius stood, his head appearing from behind a shiny red vehicle, a wide grin on his face. He wiped his hands with a rag and tossed it before placing his hands on his hips. "Pretty cool down here, isn't it?" he said, his own eyes wandering around the room.
Wilbur looked around in amazement. "This is amazing. Where are we?"
"That is an excellent question, son," the inventor replied, leaning back against the machine. "This would be my time lab. Remember a few years ago when I was sent to the hospital because one of my inventions detonated?"
The preteen's face fell a bit as his eyes finally met his father's. He nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "You never told us what it was you were working on." Wilbur pointed to the object his dad was leaning on. "Is that it?"
"Sure is." He patted the side of it. "I had to move my workspace elsewhere, considering how badly the explosion affected the rest of the family." He frowned. "So not long after I regained my memory I decided to build this," he said, forcing a smile. "I also promised you could go for the first test run with me."
"You remember that?"
"Hey, I may have had a mild case of amnesia, but I still remember mostly everything."
Wilbur beamed. "Awesome!" he said, running up to the machine, his hands raised and ready to start poking and prodding, when Cornelius held out his arm, stopping the boy in his tracks.
"Uh-uh-uh. Not so fast, young man. I may have promised you the first test run, but that doesn't mean you get to drive this thing."
"Drive? Is it a car?" He let his arms fall, his face twisted in inquisitive confusion.
"No," the older man said, pressing a button on his watch, the hatch of the vehicle opening. "It's a time machine. The first ever working time machine," Cornelius said, a wide, proud smile gracing his features.
Wilbur hopped into the driver's seat, his eyes as big as saucers. "You mean-"
"Yep."
"But how-"
"Trial and error." He rubbed his neck. "Lots of errors."
"So, this will let us go to any time period, past, present, or future?" he asked, enthusiastically grabbing the steering wheel.
Cornelius chuckled. He really didn't give the kid enough credit sometimes. Gently he grabbed Wilbur's wrists and pulled his hands off the wheel. "In theory, yes. I still haven't confirmed how far into the past or future it will take us, but that's what you're here for." He motioned for Wilbur to scoot over as he sat in the driver's seat, quickly starting the machine up. "Pick a year, any year."
Wilbur looked at Cornelius for a moment before a mischievous smirk adorned his face.
...
The time machine whirred back into the time lab, quietly shutting down. Cornelius sighed heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wilbur," he said, annoyance lacing his tone. "I told you this was dangerous and that even picking up a rock off the ground could alter history as we know it. What were you thinking?"
The raven-haired boy bit his lip, amused but also afraid of getting grounded again. "I was thinking about having fun." He turned to look out the window. "Something you don't know how to do," he said under his breath.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing. I said nothing," Wilbur said, attempting to open the roof of the vehicle.
Cornelius frowned, really not wanting to argue with an eleven-year-old. He looked down at the object in Wilbur's hands, wiping a hand down his face. "We can't keep it."
Wilbur turned, wide-eyed, to his father, his hands clasping the object in question closer to his chest. "But dad-"
"No buts, Wilbur." He studied his son for a moment, his crestfallen face pulling at his heartstrings. He really didn't enjoy punishing him, but it was necessary. Even if that meant Wilbur hated him for a few days. But the look on his face when he said he couldn't keep the baby octopus hurt more than anything, mainly because he knew what it was like to be teased with the idea of a family only to have it ripped away. Cornelius could slowly feel his resolve crumbling. He leaned his head back against the seat. "That thing is from a thousand or so years from now. Who knows what it'll do to the continuum. Also, what if it's mutated or from a different planet?"
"Please, dad?" Wilbur said with puppy dog eyes, something he knew Cornelius couldn't resist. The inventor's words had obviously not reached his unlistening ears.
The inventor sighed, meeting his son's gaze once more. "Fine," he said after a moment of hesitation. "But only for a few days."
Wilbur smiled from ear to ear, holding up the tiny purple octopus. "I'll name him Lefty!"
...
January 2037
"Relax, Carl," Wilbur said as he tiptoed into the lab. He stood by the travel tube he knew led beneath the mansion, rubbing his hands together deviously.
Carl looked distraught; if he had fingernails he'd surely be biting them. "How can I relax when you're trying to sneak into your dad's time lab-a place which he forbid BOTH of us from going, thank you very much."
The kid rolled his eyes, not bothering to turn around. "Carl, listen to yourself. You sound like my mom."
Carl gave an indignant huff. "Excuse me? I sound nothing like your mom. Besides," he continued under his breath, "she scares me."
"Look, I'm only going to be down there for a minute. Dad's not going to be home for another hour. I think I'll be okay." He stepped under the tube, his signature impish smile plastered on his face. "See you down there!" he said before he was sucked up.
Reluctantly the robot followed suit, not happy about this one bit.
Wilbur landed expertly on his feet-something that had not come naturally to him-and put his hands on his hips in triumph. In front of him was the red time machine. "Just as I'd hoped. Come on, Carl," he said as soon as the robot landed.
"Are you crazy? I am NOT coming with you to go back in time to this morning just to get your glove back."
"Oh, come on. It's not like I'm changing an entire timeline. Just today's," he said, trying his best at a charming grin.
Carl looked at him flatly, his arms crossed over his chest. He studied the kid for a minute, wondering when exactly he had become Wilbur's crony. "You should really do something about that hair," he said, referring to the way his raven hair fell over his face in some places and stuck up wildly in others, exacerbated by the travel tube. "You're starting to look like your dad."
Wilbur inspected his reflection in the window of the time machine, scrutinizing his features. "You take that back," he said, trying to smooth it down.
Carl sighed. "Forget I mentioned it," he said, striding over to meet Wilbur. "Let's get this over with."
...
Cornelius parked the car in the garage and quickly made his way into the house, carefully dodging the usual interrogation by the flower pot twins. He briefly tried to recall when he had even installed doorbells on his house before making it to the living room. Franny's smiling face greeted him before he could get upstairs.
"Hi, sweetheart," she said, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "How was your meeting?"
He smiled softly at her. "Terrible," he answered.
She frowned, tilting her head. "What happened?"
"I'll tell you later, okay?" he asked. She nodded her head in response, Cornelius kissing her cheek before running up the stairs to the lab. He had a split second to appreciate the beauty of the snow lightly falling on the ceiling before he stepped under the tube.
When he landed his eyes widened and his hands balled into fists; the time machine was missing. Again. He'd had a feeling while in his meeting that something was off, and his instincts proved to be right as he stared at the empty space in front of him. He noted agitatedly that the other time machine still sat unfinished in the corner. The inventor was very close to finishing it, but he hadn't had a chance, mainly because his son kept "borrowing" his only reference.
Instead of screaming and swearing like any normal person would do, Cornelius decided he was going to wait patiently for Wilbur's return, so he could catch him red-handed. He knew it wouldn't take long, considering it was a time machine. They should be back within minutes. He pondered what on earth a twelve-year-old would be doing with a time machine, letting the thought marinate in his mind.
The blond crossed his arms and leaned on a workbench near the empty parking space, a smirk crossing his face as a bright ball of light flashed in front of him. Right on time.
He remained quiet as the boy opened the hatch, a big goofy grin on his face, and jumped out of the vehicle. Carl was frozen, his eyes fixed on his creator's. Wilbur walked toward the travel tube, tossing his chargeball glove in the air as he walked.
"Just where do you think you're going?" Cornelius said, his deep voice echoing in the large room.
Wilbur froze, the glove falling to the ground. He very slowly turned, appearing to shrink under his father's stare. "Oh, dad. You're home. What a surprise," he laughed awkwardly.
Cornelius narrowed his eyes, blond brows lowering. "Yeah. Imagine that." He stood up to his full height, which was intimidating to Wilbur, considering he was still pretty small for his age. Wilbur craned his neck to look at his dad, who now stood over him. "I had a distinct feeling I needed to come home, so here I am. And look what I found." He stared at the boy for an excruciatingly long moment, trying to drag this out as long as possible so Wilbur would know just how angry he was. Finally, after a good two minutes of staring, he continued with, "Wilbur, what have I told you about touching the time machine? It's not a toy."
"But, dad, I only wanted to get my glove back."
Cornelius blinked. "Why?"
Wilbur looked down. He shouldn't have said anything. "I lost it in a bet," he said under his breath.
The inventor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Son, you're going to be thirteen this year. I know you know better than to sneak around in my private lab to use the time machine for selfish purposes. And you," he said, freezing the robot in his tracks. "Why can't you ever just say no?"
Carl gave an indignant squawk. "What makes you think I didn't?"
Cornelius looked back at his son. "I hate doing this, Wilbur, but you're grounded."
"But-"
"No buts." He sighed. "And I'm taking out the travel tube so you can't get down here again." Wilbur pouted as the blond held his hand out. "Glove. Now."
Reluctantly Wilbur handed the chargeball glove to his father, a frown fixed on his face.
...
"Hi, honey," Franny greeted as Cornelius trudged into the music lounge. She smiled while collecting the tiny instruments after band rehearsal. He didn't say anything as she finished up what she was doing and turned back. "How was your meeting?" she inquired, studying his blank face.
He shook his head. "It was terrible," he repeated himself from earlier.
"What happened?"
Cornelius sighed. "Well, the business is doing great, so there's that." He saw Franny sigh in relief. He contemplated how he should bring this up, all things considered, while rubbing the back of his neck. "You remember Robert Berkman?"
Franny felt her heart clench. Of course she remembered him-how could she not recall the man who tried to sue her husband for all he was worth? "Yes. Vividly." She sat at a nearby table, Cornelius following suit. He took her hands in his. "I haven't heard his name in years. Why bring him up now?"
"Well, it's complicated. After I let him go after that ridiculous lawsuit, he came back and begged for his job back. I could never figure out why he wanted to come back in the first place. I mean, as much as I hated the kid, he was still brilliant. Look at all the things he's created."
"And he came back to Robinson Industries, why?" Franny prodded. She felt utterly confused.
Blue eyes shadowed with concern met hers. "I have a theory. See, after I turned him away when he tried to come back, he disappeared. No one ever heard from him again. That is until a week ago."
Realization started shining in Franny's eyes. "That's why you planned this meeting, isn't it? Because of him."
Cornelius nodded. "Precisely."
"He wants something," she concluded.
His face went solemn. The inventor knew exactly what he wanted, even though it had only been mentioned in passing to his most loyal and trusted employees. He had the awful realization that someone must've been working with Berkman from the start, and he truly didn't know who. "I know what he wants and he's not going to get it. He's not even going to lay eyes on it," he finished. "I'll make sure of that."
...
Cornelius hummed, very out of tune, as he moseyed into his bedroom, the daylight slowly fading past the window. He made his way over to the wall by the couch and pressed his thumb against a fingerprint reader, the wall itself opening and a huge stereo sliding out. The blond bit the inside of his cheek as a light scanned him, the radio turning on specific mood music.
He turned and noticed Franny hadn't looked up from the book she was reading (even in the future she liked the feeling of turning the pages and the wonderful smells of old books), walking up behind her. As soon as he put his hands on her shoulders she placed a dainty hand on his. "Wilbur's grounded," he said dully.
"What for this time?" she said, eyes still occupied by the small print.
Cornelius sighed. "He stole the only working time machine to go back in time to get his chargeball glove back that he lost in a bet this morning." He shook his head. "What if he hadn't come back?"
Franny smiled softly. "We'd be stuck with two Wilburs."
He froze for a moment, his lips twitching upward. "You're right," he confirmed as he took the seat next to Franny at the table.
Sensing his eyes on her, she bookmarked her spot and looked up, resting her head in her palm. "Aren't I always?"
He tilted his head, smiling his crooked smile at her. Her heart fluttered as he said, "Of course," before leaning in and kissing her sweetly on the lips.
When they pulled away, a contemplative look came over Franny's face, her brows creasing slightly. "Sometimes I worry about him."
Cornelius nodded, stealing a sip of Franny's coffee and grimacing at how sweet it was. "I know. Sometimes I think he gets in trouble to get our attention."
The brunette frowned. "Honey, do you remember a few years ago when we discussed having another-"
"Yes," he said, not needing her to finish her thought to know what she was getting at. "Clear as day, surprisingly."
"Well, what if that's what he needs? Someone to keep him company? Someone he can love and spend time with. Someone who can keep him out of trouble?"
"Someone that's not Carl?" he suggested, laughing a bit. He rubbed his chin, the stubble lightly scratching his palm. "What are you saying, Franny?" he said, the corner of his lip slanted upward.
Franny mirrored his expression. "I think he needs a sibling." She paused. "It's time to consider adoption."
Cornelius beamed, capturing her red lips with his.
...
Wilbur stood in front of the mirror, frowning at his reflection. He ripped a comb through his shaggy hair, the strands immediately springing back to their original place, making him look like he'd just had a balloon dragged through his hair. As soon as the comb left his scalp the small cowlick at the front of his head stood back up. He looked up, scowling at his mop of hair.
"If you brush it anymore, you're going to look like Albert Einstein," Carl said from across the room, voice dripping with sarcasm, studying an object he'd found on the ground.
"Ha. Ha. Ha," Wilbur retorted sarcastically. "What would you know? You don't even have hair."
"No, but I do know you look ridiculous. Why are you even messing with your hair?"
"Because I'm grounded and can't do anything else. And like you said, I'm starting to look like my dad," he said, looking terribly annoyed.
Carl rolled his eyes and tossed the object. He walked over to Wilbur, reaching into his chest cavity. "You say that like you thought you didn't look like him. I mean, you have the same ears, same eye shape, same smile. Clearly the same hair." Wilbur scoffed. "Here, try this."
Wilbur scrunched up his nose, taking the bottle from Carl. "I've never heard that I look like him." He looked down at the bottle. "Extra strength hair gel?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the robot.
Carl shrugged. "Hey, you said you wanted to look like James Dean, not me."
"Is that a bad thing? He was a very handsome man," Wilbur said, pulling a large glob of gel into his hair.
After a few minutes messing with his hair, Wilbur drew the comb through his hair one last time, turning to Carl with an inquisitive look on his face. "Well?"
The robot lifted an artificial eyebrow, clearly not amused by this situation. "You look like an elephant just blew its nose in your hair."
Wilbur's face twisted in disgust. He turned back to the mirror. "Back to the drawing board."
"Oh, yeah," Carl said, walking toward the door. "Nothing like your dad at all."
...
"When should we tell him?" Franny asked, an excited grin on her lips.
Cornelius smiled as he turned the steering wheel. "I say we surprise him." He parked the vehicle in front of one of their favorite restaurants, quickly getting out to open her door.
"Neil, you know how I am with keeping secrets," she replied, wrapping a scarf around her neck.
Cornelius linked their arms together as they walked toward the entrance, opening the door for her. "Not nearly as bad as you think," he said, winking at her.
They sat at their regular booth in the back, Cornelius sliding in next to Franny, his arm going around her shoulder. "You know," he said seriously, "if we're going to adopt, we would need to start right away. Even with all the advances in technology and processes over the last few years, adoption is still a lengthy process. And there isn't any real guarantee that we'll be able to find a child right away. They'd need to be comfortable with our crazy family," he chuckled.
A waitress came by and took their orders, smiling at her favorite regulars. He continued, "What a wonderful surprise for him to have a brother by his birthday."
"The one thing he's always wanted," Franny said, smiling sadly.
Cornelius nodded, taking a sip of his water. "But first, we need to have a serious chat with him about the dangers of messing with the time space continuum."
...
"Wilbur, I made you something-" Tallulah froze, eyeing her cousin suspiciously. She tried her hardest not to laugh at the huge globs of gel in his hair. "What on earth are you doing?"
The dark-haired boy turned, acting like he'd been caught red-handed. "Nothing. What's it look like?"
"It looks like you just stuck your head in a bucket of glue," she retorted, placing the article of clothing on a chair. "Here, let me help you."
...
"Whoa!" Wilbur said, ogling himself in the mirror. "I look hot!"
"I wouldn't go that far, partner," Tallulah said, smirking. "Here, put this on. I want to see how it looks on an you."
Wilbur grabbed the shirt, quickly pulling it over his head. The older girl looked at it, nodding in approval. "Perfect," she said, giving him a thumbs up. She began to walk away.
"Wait, don't you want this back?" he said, confused.
"No. I'm just practicing making shirts. You can keep that one," she said as she walked out the door, bumping into Franny and Cornelius as she did so. "Oh, hey guys." She glanced back at Wilbur. "That kid has entirely too much time on his hands."
Cornelius cocked his head. "Good to know." They made their way into the room, the blond observing Wilbur's head. "Son, what have you done to your hair?"
The kid blushed, still self-conscious about his new 'do. "That is an excellent question," he said, looking down.
Franny smiled, lightly pinching his cheek. "Wilbur, you look so handsome. You look just like-"
"You?" Cornelius suggested, grinning.
"You could be my twin," she commented.
"Okay, this is embarrassing. Can you please stop talking like that?" Wilbur said, rubbing his cheek where it had been pinched.
"Sorry, honey," his mother said, giggling.
"Alright Captain Time Travel," he said, referring to Wilbur's shirt. "Have a seat. We need to have a little chat," Cornelius continued, taking on a more serious tone.
Wilbur sighed before sitting on a beanbag chair, his parents looking down at him. He tried to flash a charming smile. "So. How was your date?" He knew this talk was coming, he just hoped they would've done it later.
"Don't try to change the subject, Wilbur," he said, shaking his head.
The dark-haired boy wrung his hands in his lap, something that reminded the blond entirely too much of his mother. "Sorry. Force of habit."
Cornelius held back a chuckle, opting instead to frown at the boy. "Wilbur, I know I've told you how incredibly dangerous it is to steal the time machine. Your mother and I are furious with you."
Wilbur looked to Franny for confirmation, a jolt of fear running through him at the glare she was giving him. He glanced at his father. "Look, I know I messed up. Again. But I swear it won't happen again."
"Wilbur, you said that last time. What would have happened if the time machine broke down and you were stuck in the past? How would you have gotten back home?"
Wilbur grimaced, appearing to be deep in thought. "Well, for one thing, one of me would probably cease to exist at some point."
The blond raised his eyebrows, impressed by his son's though process. "That's impressive son."
"Thanks."
"We also might've been stuck with two of you," Franny commented.
Wilbur's face twisted in confusion before a smirk crossed his features. All the things he could do with two of him…all the trouble he'd get in. "Cool!"
"No, not cool. Dangerous and impractical," the blond continued. "Why did you lose you glove to begin with?"
"I lost it in a bet-"
"So you've told me. Why did you bet it?" Wilbur mumbled something under his breath. "Use your words, Wilbur."
"I said I bet it because Samantha told me I was a wimp and that there was no way I would ditch class to climb the building." He hesitated. "I got caught on the second story window."
"You scaled a building?" Cornelius deadpanned.
"Wait, that's not all." Franny crossed her arms, motioning for him to continue. "She took my glove even though I did part of the bet, so I took the time machine to go back to this morning and…um." He cleared his throat. "I made it to the roof this time."
"So, not only did you ditch class, you climbed your school building TWICE with no supervision, only to get your chargeball glove back that we could've easily replaced," Franny said, clearly fuming.
Cornelius took a deep breath, knowing that when his wife was mad he had to be the patient one. "Wilbur, you could've gotten hurt. Or even worse, you could've died. Did you even think this all the way through?" he asked unnervingly calmly.
Wilbur looked down at his hands. "No."
"Wilbur," he drawled out. "I know you're only twelve, but you're old enough to think for yourself. You know we love you more than anything and we just want you to be happy. But there are consequences to your actions. Maybe not immediate, and maybe not always as miniscule as being grounded. But they exist, and it's your responsibility to accept them. Understood?"
The preteen nodded, smiling timidly up at his parents. The worst of it was over. "Understood." He stood up and hugged him, the adults embracing him in return. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
Cornelius ruffled his newly gelled hair, the strands sticking back up. Wilbur frowned, running his hands through his hair for the millionth time. "It'd better not happen again." The blond wrapped his arm around Franny's waist. "Goodnight son."
"'Night, dad,' Wilbur replied, running over to the platform leading to his bed.
"Oh, and Wilbur," Cornelius said, glancing back at him from the doorway. "If it happens again, you'll be grounded for life."
Wilbur rolled his eyes.
...
February 2037
Robert Berkman paced, his hand tangling in his chestnut hair. He stopped every few steps, appearing to be observing his surroundings, a look of worry shadowing his young features.
"Robert, if you don't stop pacing you'll burn a hole through the floor."
He came to an immediate halt, glaring at the fat man sitting on the couch. He scowled as he flipped another page of his magazine. "How can you be so relaxed about this, Henry? You made me look like such a fool before. I let you let me sue the man for absolutely no reason, only to have you tell me to back out. I looked like a damn coward. Now you want me to do it again?" he asked, hands flailing. "Robinson hates me, he doesn't trust me. What makes you think this is even remotely a good idea?"
Henry sighed, placing the magazine on the coffee table in front of him. "Robinson may not trust you, but he trusts me." He stood, walking up to the younger man. "I know this sounds ludicrous, but I promise. What I'm proposing will change both of our lives forever. We just have to get our hands on that time machine." The man pulled a box out of his large pocket, lifting a cigar to his lips. "Just trust me."
Robert reluctantly accepted the cigar that was offered, frowning at that sentence. That was something he'd heard a million times, but not something easily done.