Try, Try Again

by KaitiCat1993

Franny Robinson, ever the motherly type, never had more children after Wilbur. It's never explained why this woman, who is so willingly to take in an orphan at the drop of a hat, only has one son. This story takes a look into the lives of Franny and Cornelius as they struggle through the curve balls of life. Warning: This fic contains mature material.

15. Chapter 15

A/N: Hello there! I'm so glad to be back finishing this story! I'm so incredibly sorry for the (checks calendar) six and a half year delay. A lot has happened since I last updated this story. I left my ex, met someone else, had a baby, got engaged, moved into a new apartment, bought a house, bought a car, been promoted three times, but not all in that order. But as you can probably tell, it's been very hard to find time to write when I have a million other things on my plate. Anyway, I really, truly hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. This has been the longest and most difficult one I've written so far, and I'm not joking when I say I rewrote it about fifteen times before the final draft.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES HANKY PANKY.

Disclaimer: Unless Stephen Anderson sold the rights, I still don't own Meet the Robinsons.

Enjoy!

Chapter 15: Twists and Turns of Fate

January 2037

What is this? Where are we going?

To the future!

What year is this?

2037.

If I had a family, I'd want them to be just like you.

To Lewis!

Lewis, you have to fix the time machine.

I can't!

What about your dad? You could call him!

You are my dad!

But that's in the future!

There won't be a future unless you fix the time machine.

I messed up.

I left the garage door unlocked, and I've tried like crazy to fix things.

Now it's up to you.

You can do it, dad.

Lewis!

Wilbur? Wilbur!

What year is this?

2037

2037

2037

Cornelius jolted awake, a cold sheen of sweat covering his forehead. The dream was still replaying in his mind in a continuous loop. He looked at the holographic clock on the nightstand, his heart hammering against his ribcage.

2:37 AM.

He grabbed his chest, trying to slow his heart rate. Struggling to breathe, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get the image of his only son being sucked into a swirling vortex out of his mind. A horrible feeling of déjà vu came over him; he thought that since he'd invented the time machine, his nightmares would've gone away. They hadn't.

Franny mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. He glanced over at her, studying her for a moment to make sure he hadn't woken her. Cornelius woke up in the middle of the night so often she wasn't even fazed by it anymore. He rolled out of bed and padded over to the door, checking once more to make sure she was still sleeping before gently pulling it closed.

Cornelius wandered through the house, his footsteps the only sounds breaking the silence. No one else seemed to be up, which was odd. Usually there was at least one Robinson that was awake at this hour.

He arrived at a door with a lightning bolt painted on the outside, gently turning the knob and cracking it open. Part of him expected Wilbur to be playing chargeball or pestering Carl, but he was surprised to see the kid actually sprawled out on his bed for once. The kid had definitely inherited his insomnia it seemed. One of his legs was poking out from under the blanket and hanging off the side of the mattress, the exact same way he'd been laying the last time Cornelius had been woken from his recurring nightmare. He breathed a sigh of relief and closed the door with a soft click. He shook his head and walked back across the house to the stairs to the lab, quickly ascending them and closing the door.

The inventor strode to the middle of the lab, straight to the thing that had started everything. Biting the inside of his lip he grabbed the blanket and uncovered the memory scanner. It still looked the same as the day he submitted it to the science fair almost thirty years ago, just a bit duller from age. Curiosity got the best of him as he grabbed the headphones and placed them over his head. He keyed in the numbers to take him back twenty-nine years, five months, and a handful of days. He turned the knob twice and pressed the red button, the machine whirring to life.

It had been so long since he'd used the device that it still caught him off guard when it worked. He watched intently as his younger self experienced time travel for the first time, encountering his future family and self. Only now instead of looking at an older version of himself, it felt like he was looking into a mirror. It was surreal. He watched the memories intently, trying to remember every last detail. No matter how many times he had re-lived these memories in his dreams, there were still things that he'd forgotten, and he made mental notes of them.

He knew the day was coming, and he needed to be prepared.

. . .

February 2037

"Come on, Carl," Wilbur said, glancing back at the robot. "It'll be fine. I just want to make it snow in my room."

Carl crossed his noodle-like arms and rolled his eyes for what felt like the trillionth time. "Do you really think it's a good idea to sneak into your dad's lab to get his weather machine? I mean, it hasn't even been fully tested yet."

"For the last time, Carl, yes," Wilbur said, tiptoeing through the hallway toward the stairs. "I'm only borrowing it. He won't even notice it's gone."

Carl reluctantly followed Wilbur up the stairs, his head whipping around at every small noise. "What's going to happen if it breaks? You know your dad is going to blame me," he said, watching helplessly as Wilbur entered the lab and lifted the small machine with ease.

"He's not going to notice," Wilbur insisted, already making his way back downstairs. When they got to the boy's room, he kicked the door closed behind them. "This is going to be awesome," he said, placing it in the middle of his floor.

Carl eyed the machine suspiciously. "Do you even know how to work this thing?"

"How hard can it be?" He crouched down to study the buttons on the front. "Aha!" he exclaimed, pressing a button labeled "snow," then hitting the up arrow about twenty times.

He stood and backed up to where Carl was standing, an expectant grin plastered on his face. The machine made a faint beeping sound before it started whirring, an ice vortex shooting up out of the top. Wilbur rubbed his hands together mischievously as it came to life, the vortex exploding like a firework when it reached the ceiling. Perfect white snowflakes floated to the floor, landing softly on the carpet and the planets as they rotated around the room.

"See, what'd I tell you?" Wilbur said, catching a snowflake on his tongue.

Carl rolled his optics. "Three, two, one."

Suddenly the machine started shaking, the whirring's pitch going up an octave.

Wilbur's eyes widened. "Uh oh. Duck!" He yelled, diving under his bed platform just as the machine exploded, shooting large snowballs flying in every direction, pelting the walls and knocking Neptune out of orbit.

Carl retracted the umbrella he'd deployed from his cranial compartment and frantically looked around. "Little buddy, are you okay?" he asked as Neptune fell to the floor and rolled across the room.

Wilbur uncovered his head, eyeing the machine that was now ablaze. "Dad is going to kill me," he squeaked, covering the machine with a fireproof blanket.

The robot gave him a look. "What did I tell you?"

"Carl, just help me get this thing into the closet," he said, hauling the machine across the floor. The robot opened the closet door, stepping out of Wilbur's way. "Just don't tell dad."

"Why must you always drag me into your shenanigans?" Carl asked, looking to the heavens for an answer.

"Because you know you enjoy my shenanigans just as much as I do," Wilbur answered, closing the closet door. He turned around and eyed the blanket of snowballs covering his floor, knowing he needed to get rid of them before the sun came up. "This is going to take all night."

. . .

The Next Morning

"Morning, family," Cornelius said, snatching a sausage link out of the air. Gaston was already loading another one into his tiny cannon.

"Morning, Neil!" the family replied, giving him a small wave before going back to eating their breakfast. Bud and Art were throwing a pancake across the table like a Frisbee, Lucille cheering on her husband.

Cornelius walked around to the head of the table, kissing the top of Franny's head before sitting down. "Billie, can you pass the syrup," he asked.

"Coming right up!" The tabletop train made its way around to him, hauling pats of butter, a variety of flavored syrups, and multiple stacks of pancakes.

"Who wants some sausage?" Gaston asked, holding his cannon at the ready.

Everyone raised their hands at the same time. He laughed, yelled "Incoming!" then started firing his cannon into the air, making sausage links rain from the ceiling.

Cornelius grabbed a few pancakes from the train before it departed, along with some butter and blueberry syrup. A handful of sausage links bounced off the table and onto his plate. He glanced at the empty chair next to Franny, realizing there seemed to be a missing Robinson.

"Where's Wilbur?" he asked, making eye contact with Carl across the way. The robot quickly averted his optics and frantically started gathering dirty plates. He eyed Carl suspiciously before turning his attention to Tallulah and Lazlo, who were in the middle of an argument about the milk jug. "Have you two seen Wilbur?" Besides Carl, they were the most likely to know where the boy was, and he knew the robot wasn't going to snitch on his little buddy.

The siblings paused mid-argument, looked at Cornelius and shrugged. "No clue," they said in unison, immediately going back to their tug of war with the dairy.

The blond shrugged and took a bite of his breakfast, grinning over at Franny. It was a huge day today; after months of unforeseen delays, they were finally going to the adoption agency. He would never admit it to Franny, but he was a nervous wreck. The man had been through so much rejection as a kid that the thought of becoming the source of that pain made him physically ill.

Franny returned his smile. "Are you excited for today?" she asked, seemingly reading his mind.

Cornelius nodded. "Very." He leaned over to kiss her, but the moment was cut short by someone loudly groaning.

"Why is it every time I walk into a room, you two are making out?" Wilbur interrupted, meandering into the dining room. The couple pulled away and started making kissing noises at each other, their lips turning up in amused smiles. Wilbur groaned again and reluctantly sat next to his mother at the table.

"Whoa, what happened to you?" Tallulah asked, letting Lazlo grab the milk jug out of her hands. "You run out of hair gel?"

Wilbur self-consciously ran his fingers through his hair, which was sticking up in every direction, save for his cowlick that was merely lacking altitude. "As a matter of fact, yes," he said indignantly. "What's it to ya, Lula?"

Tallulah giggled and took a sip of her freshly poured milk.

"Wilbur, catch!" Gaston yelled, launching another sausage link into the air.

Wilbur jumped up out of his seat and caught it with his left hand, punching the air with his right. "I got it!" he squeaked. All eyes turned toward him. He froze and sank back into his chair, laughing awkwardly. His hand shot out to grab his juice, knocking the glass over in the process. Orange juice started running off the table and onto his pajama pants. "Oh, man! Not my Captain Time Travel pants!" he yelled, his voice cracking.

Carl ran over to the boy and vacuumed up the spilled juice while simultaneously refilling his glass. Wilbur thanked him quietly and took a drink, clearly embarrassed.

Franny and Cornelius exchanged a knowing look before turning their attention back to the boy.

"So, Wilbur," Franny said, taking a bite of her pancakes. "What were you doing up so late last night?"

"I was just…talking to Samantha," he said, immediately regretting the lie as it slipped out of his mouth.

Franny cocked her head. "Samantha?" She glanced over at Cornelius with a raised eyebrow. "That girl that dared you to scale your school building?"

Wilbur's whole face and both arms went pink (a trait he had most definitely inherited from his father). "Uh…"

"Is that your girlfriend?" Lazlo asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Wilbur huffed indignantly, throwing a sausage at his cousin. "She is not my girlfriend!" he said, his voice squeaking again.

"What's the matter with you?" Lazlo laughed. "Got a frog in your throat?"

"Hey, I take offense to that," Frankie interjected from the chandelier.

Wilbur ignored his cousin and cleared his throat. "Aunt Billie, can you please pass the syrup?" he asked, forcing his voice down an octave.

"Coming right up," Billie replied, sending her train back around the table.

"So, Wilbur," Franny interjected, trying to change the subject. She watched him out of the corner of her eye eating with his head down, blushing furiously. "Your father and I are going to be out running some errands today. We won't be long." Wilbur looked up and raised his hand. "And no, you can't come with us," she said, feeling her heart tugging. Franny hated making Wilbur feel excluded. She kicked Cornelius' foot under the table.

"I'll tell you what, though," Cornelius spoke up. "As soon as we get home, you and I will spend some quality time together. How does that sound?"

Wilbur smiled half-heartedly and went back to eating his breakfast. "Sure, dad. Sounds great."

. . .

Cornelius landed the flying car in the parking lot of a colorful office building, snow gently falling to the ground around them. He got out and helped Franny out of the vehicle, interlocking his fingers with hers. They paused at the door and exchanged excited grins.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly.

Franny nodded, her cheeks rosy. He felt his heart flutter.

"I'm more than ready, Neil," she replied.

Cornelius smiled lovingly at his wife, his heart feeling very warm despite the cold. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss before heading inside, his arm around her waist. They were greeted by a receptionist, who then led them to an office where their adoption specialist was already waiting for them. She stood from her seat and smiled at the couple.

"Good morning, Dr. and Mrs. Robinson," a young woman in her late twenties said, reaching out her hand. Her strawberry blonde hair was placed in a neat bun, wrapped in a purple ribbon that matched her sweater. Her office was covered in photos of her with children whom she'd helped get adopted, their smiling faces brightening up the room.

Cornelius smiled and took her hand. "Actually, it's Dr. and Dr. Robinson," he corrected, grinning proudly at his wife.

"My apologies, Dr. Robinson," the woman said, blushing.

Franny grabbed the woman's hand in a warm handshake. "Not at all," she said with a smile.

"Please, have a seat." She gestured to the chairs across from her. "My name is Katherine. It's so nice to meet you. Mildred has told me wonderful things about you," she said, grinning at Cornelius.

The blond perked up. "Mildred Duffy? She still works for the system?" he asked. He hadn't seen the woman in thirty years and definitely didn't think she would still be working at her age.

Katherine shook her head and let out a small laugh. "Yes, Mildred Duffy. She retired not too long ago, but I just had to tell her you two were coming. She sends her regards."

"That's too bad she's not here," Cornelius said, feeling a bit disappointed. "It would've been nice to see her again."

"Not to worry, Dr. Robinson. She occasionally likes to swing by just to check in," Katherine said as she typed something into the computer. "Now, I hear you two are looking to adopt right away?"

Franny nodded. "Oh, yes. We've been wanting to adopt for quite some time. It was just never the right time."

"I understand," Katherine said. "Not a lot of people are mentally ready to go through the process, so we have quite a few children in the system right now. Did you have a specific age in mind?"

"Well, we have a son, he'll be thirteen later this year," Cornelius answered, glancing at Franny. "We'd like for him to have a brother around his age."

Katherine raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You want to adopt a teenager?" She studied the couple's faces, wondering how serious they were. "That's wonderful, Dr. Robinson. I just want to make sure you're fully prepared to take one in. They can be a handful," she chuckled. "You're absolutely sure?"

Cornelius squeezed Franny's hand under the desk. "Yes, we're sure. I myself was adopted at twelve. I've seen far too many kids age out of the system firsthand. No child should have to live through that." He felt his wife squeezing his hand back, comforted to know she was there.

Katherine nodded, thinking. She turned and typed something else into her system. "Wonderful," she smiled. "Well, since you're absolutely sure, then I'll go ahead and get the paperwork started. I don't want to scare you away, but it could be months before your application is approved."

Franny grinned up at Cornelius. "We're very patient people."

. . .

"Franny, I really don't think it's such a big deal," Cornelius said, lowering the car into the garage. "So what if he has a girlfriend?"

"Sweetheart, did you hear the way his voice was breaking?" Franny asked, gathering her things from the floorboard. "You need to give him the talk, and now's as good a time as any," she said. "It's time, Neil."

Cornelius sighed. "I guess you're right," he said, catching her smirk out of the corner of his eye. "But why don't you talk to him with me? I'm sure it would help to have a female's perspective, too."

"As much as I would love to, I can't. I have rehearsal today," she said, interlocking her fingers with his as they strolled to the front door. "You'll be fine."

"Hey, ring my doorbell," Spike whispered as they passed his flowerpot.

Cornelius shrugged. "Ah, what the hell," he said, pushing the button. A symphony of brass instruments filled the air, a stark contrast in melodies to Demitri's doorbell.

"Yes!" Spike exclaimed, eliciting an eye roll from Demitri across the way.

The door creaked open, and a very shy-looking octopus peaked out.

"Hi, Lefty," Franny said, grinning up at her latest genetic experiment. His growth was coming along nicely, but his vocal cords still hadn't developed. "Thank you," she said, handing the octopus her coat. "How are you feeling? Any pain?" she asked, touching his cheek.

"Mmmmm," he responded, closing his eyes at her touch.

She smiled. "Wonderful."

"Wilbur, we're home!" Cornelius called out, handing his own coat to Lefty.

The boy casually strolled into the foyer running his fingers through his messy hair. "Hey guys, how were your errands?" he asked, his voice sounding very unstable. He cleared his throat again.

Cornelius glanced at Franny, who nodded. He'd had thirty years to prepare for this day, but it still managed to sneak up on him.

"Wilbur, let's go to your room," Cornelius said, guiding him with a hand on his back down the hallway. They got to the boy's bedroom and closed the door. "We need to talk. Have a seat."

Wilbur gave the blond an inquisitive look, which was funnier than usual because he clearly still hadn't found any hair gel. "Sure, dad," he said, dropping down into one of the beanbag chairs. Cornelius pulled another one in front of Wilbur and sat down, resting his arms on his knees. "Uh, what's this about?" the boy asked, eyes darting around the room. He had spent all night cleaning up the snowballs in his room and trying to get Neptune back into orbit, so he didn't think his dad knew about the busted weather machine hiding in his closet…right? Right?! He couldn't stand the anticipation! "I didn't do anything, I swear," he blurted, voice cracking. His cheeks went pink again.

Cornelius chuckled, amused. He inhaled, readying himself for this conversation. "Wilbur,

you're not in trouble. At least, not right now." The boy exhaled in relief. "I actually wanted to talk to you about Samantha."

Wilbur frowned. "Samantha?" he asked, the girl the last thing he'd expected his dad to bring up in conversation. At least Carl hadn't snitched…

"Yes, Samantha," the blond nodded, rubbing his chin. "Wilbur, you're at an age where you're going to start noticing girls, and maybe even boys. I'm not judging." Wilbur's eyes kept drifting to his closet door. "But I just wanted to help you make some sense of these feelings."

"Uh, dad-"

"Have you noticed any…changes in your body?" Cornelius asked, cutting right to the chase.

"Changes?" Wilbur asked, cocking his head. "Uh, not really?" He wondered where his dad was going with this.

"That's okay if you haven't," Cornelius said. "I just want you to be prepared. Your body is about to start going through some pretty big changes, and it's not a bad thing. It just means you're growing up. You're going to start growing hair in very weird places-places you didn't even know hair could grow-"

"Uh-"

"Your voice is going to start dropping, which it sounds like it's already started doing-"

"Dad-"

"You might get a few pimples here and there-"

"Ew-"

"And you're going to start having…" Cornelius paused, trying to think of the best word. "Urges."

Wilbur froze with his hand in the air, caught off guard by his father's choice of words.

"Urges?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes, urges," Cornelius confirmed, nodding. "And I just want to let you know that if you do have them, there's nothing wrong with you. It's perfectly normal."

Wilbur smiled awkwardly at his dad. "If you say so, dad-"

"And if you happen to experience said urges, just go somewhere private, like your bedroom or a bathroom."

Wilbur's face was twisted in confusion. He couldn't take this anymore. "Dad, what are you talking about?" he blurted. "Can you please elaborate?"

So, Cornelius elaborated.

Now Wilbur's face was twisted in disgust. "You mean to tell me I came from you and mom doing that?" he asked, his voice breaking again. Suddenly he wished he was being yelled at instead of having this awkward conversation.

Cornelius nodded, his face serious. "Yes. It's a beautiful thing, really. You may not think so now, but you will when you're older and love someone as much as your mother and I-"

"Oh my God, dad," Wilbur said, covering his ears. He wanted very much for this conversation to be over and to not hear about his parents' sex life.

"It's a part of nature, Wilbur-"

"Lalalalala!"

Cornelius chuckled and stood. "Okay, well I can see you don't want to talk about this anymore. I'll leave you alone," he said, walking toward the door. He paused before exiting the room and turned toward Wilbur. "And if you have any questions-"

"Yep," Wilbur said, now trying to push his dad out the door.

"You can always ask me-"

"Uh huh."

"There's nothing to be ashamed of!" he yelled as the door slammed in his face.

Wilbur slumped against his bedroom door, exhaling in relief. If his dad had looked up, he would've noticed Neptune missing from the rotating solar system. He needed to get Carl to put the planet back into orbit soon. "That was close," he mumbled to himself.

. . .

March 2037

"Good morning, Dr. Ekhardt," Cornelius said, walking into his office at Robinson Industries. It was one of those rare days he needed to be in the office for some reason or other. Lately it had been to keep an eye on Robert Berkman, who was very conspicuously sucking up to the boss. His business partner had somehow convinced him that the kid was harmless, so he reluctantly gave him his job back. He was still trying to decide if it was a bad decision or not.

"Morning, Neil," Dr. Ekhardt said, glancing up from his desk. "Late night?" He raised an eyebrow at the dark circles under the inventor's eyes.

Cornelius nodded tiredly. "Yeah, I was up all night working on the time machine." He rubbed his eyes, then dragged his fingers through his hair. "It's so close to being done. One is already complete, I just really need to finish the other one."

Dr. Ekhardt looked at the inventor across the way, eyebrows in his hairline. "Oh?"

The blond met his eyes and nodded. "There's just a few details left to finalize, and then it's done."

The man grinned. "Well, that's exciting," he said, sounding very enthusiastic.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting the conversation. Cornelius looked up as a young man with chestnut hair walked into the office. "Good morning, Dr. Robinson," Robert Berkman said, extending his hand for Cornelius to shake.

"Good morning, Robert," he said, his tone neutral. "You had something you wanted to show me?"

"Yes, sir," he said with a grin on his face. "Thank you for seeing me. I've been working on this for quite some time," he said, glancing briefly at Dr. Ekhardt before pulling a rolled-up paper out of his lab coat pocket. "I think this could revolutionize the human experience. Now I haven't gotten around to making a prototype just yet, but this blueprint is very detailed. I think you'll get the idea."

Cornelius took the paper out of the young man's hands and unrolled it on the table, his heart palpitating as Dor-15 stared back at him from the desk. A chill ran down his spine as memories assaulted his mind.

Why did I ever invent that stupid hat?

I am never going to invent you.

Cornelius grabbed the edge of the desk to steady himself, the room now spinning. How could he have forgotten the most important detail?

"Where did you get this?" he nearly shouted.

"I call it the helping hat," Berkman said, taking a step back. He put his hands up defensively, taken aback by his boss' reaction.

Cornelius frantically rolled the paper back up and stood. "Thank you for your suggestion, Robert. I'll take it into consideration," he said, pushing the young man out the door.

"Dr. Robinson?" Dr. Ekhardt asked, concerned at the sudden change in his partner's demeanor. "Everything okay?"

Cornelius took a deep breath to try and steady himself. His heart was beating a mile a minute, his mind drifting to a very dark place. He needed to finish the time machine, and fast. "I'm sorry, Dr. Ekhardt. I need to go home," he said, gathering up his things and putting them in his briefcase. He snatched the blueprint off the desk and met his business partner's eyes briefly before turning toward the door. "I'm sorry."

. . .

Cornelius shoved open the front door with his shoulder, ignoring the flower pot twins urging him to ring their doorbells. As soon as he was inside, he turned and ran to the steps to the lab.

"Whoa, Neilly, what's the rush?" Bud asked, looking up from his chess game with Lucille. She captured his queen while he wasn't looking.

"Sorry, dad," Cornelius called out, sprinting up the stairs. "I can't talk right now. Send Carl up please!" he yelled, slamming the lab door behind him.

"Okay, son!"

Cornelius strode over to his desk and threw the paper down, unrolling it and pinning it open. He stared at the blueprint, a plan already beginning to form in his head. There was a knock at the door, pulling the inventor out of his thoughts. "Come in!"

Carl pushed open the door, peeking through the crack to make sure it was safe. He stepped through and met his creator's eyes. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Cornelius said, walking over and closing the door behind Carl. "You're just the robot I wanted to see."

"I am?" Carl asked, wringing his hands together. "Look if this is about the weather machine-"

Cornelius' head whipped around. "What happened to the weather machine?" The robot opened his mouth to respond but was cut off. "You know what, it can wait. Right now, I need your help."

. . .

April 2037

Cornelius spent the next month straight creating the prototype of Dor-15 in the time lab, not wanting to risk being distracted. Every second he spent working on the hat he was carefully crafting the most intricate plan to ever be conceived. He knew he could pull it off because he'd seen it before, but he was going to need help. Carl had already reluctantly agreed to do exactly as Cornelius said, no matter how absurd. But there was still one piece of the puzzle missing.

Unfortunately, the more time Cornelius spent in the time lab, the more concerned Franny became. Every time he finished work, he would head straight to the time lab, barely acknowledging her in the hallway the past few nights when she'd tried to kiss him hello. She had gone to bed completely naked one night and he hadn't even noticed. It was disconcerting. She didn't know what he was up to, but he had never been this distracted by a project before.

She was becoming forlorn, heart aching more and more every time she sat next to her husband's empty chair at dinner. Ever since they'd gone to the adoption agency it was like he'd retreated into himself, and she couldn't figure out why. No matter what struggle they were going through, he always came to her if he needed to talk, and vice versa. Compared to other couples they were experts when it came to communication, but as of late it was like he'd gone off the grid with no way of reaching him.

It was another night he had gone straight to the time lab, giving her short answers when she'd tried to tell him they had somewhere to be. Franny had sat on the couch in their bedroom for several hours, checking the door every few minutes to see if he was finally done for the day. Her heart dropped with every passing second. At eight o'clock she decided she'd had it-she was going to make him take a break if he wanted to or not. And she didn't care if he got angry at her, he would get over it. The brunette stomped over to the intercom button, forcing herself not to yell at him through the mic.

"Neil?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Cornelius jumped, not expecting anyone to interrupt him in the middle of work. No one ever dared. "Yeah?"

"Why don't you take a break tonight?" she asked, her voice tight.

He put down his screwdriver and stared at the hat in front of him, debating with himself.

"Cornelius?" Franny asked again when he didn't respond.

"What?"

"Do you even know what day it is?" she asked.

He looked up at the ceiling, realizing he actually didn't know. "Um, Tuesday?" he guessed.

"Try again."

"Wednesday?"

Franny sighed, trying to keep her composure. "Neil, it's our anniversary, and you've been down there all night." She swallowed back her frustrated tears.

Cornelius froze, checking his watch and confirming that it was, indeed, their anniversary. He swore under his breath. "Franny, I am so sorry-"

"Could you please just take a break?" she bit out. "I miss you."

He stood and ripped off his lab coat. "Yes, I'm coming up right now. I'll be up in a minute."

The intercom went silent. He knew he was in trouble.

Cornelius ran up the stairs as fast as he could (he had to take out the travel tube since someone couldn't stop breaking into the time lab) and emerged from a hidden door, running straight into Franny.

"Franny, I am so sorry-"

"I don't want to hear it, Neil," she said, arms crossed over her chest.

He exhaled through his nose and closed his eyes. "Franny, you don't understand. I need to-"

"We missed our dinner reservations."

A wave of guilt crashed over him. Had he really been so focused on his plan that he'd neglected his marriage? He swore under his breath again. "I know you don't want to hear it, Franny, but I really am sorry," he said, meeting her eyes. His chest constricted as he realized her face was red from crying. He reached out and grabbed her hand, touching his forehead to hers. "Let me make it up to you."

She frowned at him, biting back her tears. "How do you plan on doing that?"

Cornelius smiled softly at her. "Let's go for a ride over the city. You'll have my undivided attention." He caressed her face with his free hand. "Please."

She bit her lip, relenting. "Fine," she said, pulling her hand away.

He mentally berated himself the entire way to the garage. When they got to the car, he opened her door for her, and she got in with a huff and an eye roll. He got in the driver's seat and pressed the start button, the vehicle rumbling to life. The car lifted up out of the garage and into the sky, Cornelius turning on the autopilot.

Several minutes passed before either of them broke the silence.

"Franny, I'm so sorry," Cornelius said softly, turning to face her.

She whipped her head around, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. "How could you forget our anniversary, Neil?" she asked, arms crossed over her chest again. "Not to mention we need to be focused on the adoption. You heard what Katherine said; they could call us at any time to tell us if our application was approved. We need to be ready. Where is your head lately?"

Cornelius deflated, heart breaking at the pain in her voice. "You're right, Franny," he said softly. "I have been preoccupied lately. I guess I didn't realize just how much." He rubbed his chin, the stubble scratching his palm. When was the last time he'd shaved?

Franny's lip quivered as she looked away. "I just want to make sure we're still on the same page," she said quietly.

"Hey," he said, gently turning her face toward his. "We are still on the same page, I promise." He searched her eyes, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "I guess I just didn't realize how much this project was going to need my attention. I will never forgive myself for neglecting you. You and Wilbur are my number one priority, and I promise I will never make you feel like you're coming in second to my work again." He pressed his lips to her forehead and closed his eyes. "I guess sometimes I just need to be pulled back to reality," he chuckled.

Franny let out a small laugh and looked up at him with a soft smile. She reached up and wrapped her hand around his. "I know," she whispered.

Cornelius smiled at her and softly kissed her red lips. He touched his forehead to hers and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered back, pulling his lips to hers again with an urgency she couldn't fight. How she had missed this man… Carefully she lifted herself out of her seat and straddled him, their lips never once coming apart. She made quick work of undoing his tie and shirt buttons, her hands caressing his bare stomach. He lifted her dress up over her head, their lips coming back together like magnets.

At that moment, Cornelius didn't care about time travel, or work, or helping hats. Right now, all he cared about was making love to his wife as they flew over the city. Everything else could wait. At least for now.

. . .

"Bye sweetheart," Franny said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss her husband. "Have a good day at work. Don't work too hard."

Cornelius grinned down at her. He knew she was being serious despite her joking tone. "I won't," he chuckled. "I'll see you tonight."

The brunette waved at her husband as he disappeared into the garage. He didn't tell her he wasn't going to work today. No, today he was going to secure the last piece of the puzzle.

. . .

July 2037

"Come on, Wilbur. Harder," Franny said, holding up a wooden board. They'd been at this for an hour now, the kid pushing himself harder with each passing minute. She knew he wasn't going to leave this room until the board was broken in half. She had to give it to him, the kid was determined.

Wilbur took a breath and kicked, foot making contact with the board, but not breaking it. "Dang it!" he yelled, hands balled into fists. He was getting frustrated, but he wasn't going to give up. "I can do it," he assured himself. "I can do it!"

"Yes, you can," Franny said, keeping the board in place. She watched the boy take a few practice kicks before planting his feet on the ground. "Come on!"

The boy leaned back and thrust his foot through the air with all his strength, breaking the board clean in half. He froze in shock, clearly not having been expecting to break it. He jumped up, punching the air. "Yes!" he screamed, high fiving his mom.

Franny wrapped her arms around him, so proud of how far he had come since starting karate lessons. "I knew you could do it, Wilbur," she said with the biggest grin on her face.

He smiled up at her. "Thanks, mom," he said, hugging her waist.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me."

She smiled. "Oh, honey," she said, resting her head on top of his. "I would never give up on you. We all learn at our own pace. Sometimes we just need a little encouragement."

There was a knock on the door, interrupting the love fest between mother and son. Cornelius stood in the open doorway with a cell phone in hand looking Franny up and down, a goofy grin plastered on his face. There was just something about his wife wearing a gi that got him all flustered.

"Hi, Sweetheart," Franny said, releasing Wilbur from her arms. She walked across the room and gave him a peck on the lips. The boy pretended to gag behind her. "What's up?"

"Oh," he said, handing her the phone. "It's for you."

"Is it Katherine?" she mouthed, taking the phone from him. He shook his head. She furrowed her brow and put the phone to her ear. "Hi, this is Franny. May I ask who's calling?...oh, hi!...yes…today?" She covered the speaker and looked at Cornelius. "Do we have any plans today?" He shook his head. She uncovered the speaker. "Yes…really?...What about?...okay…Okay, great. I'll be there soon," she said, ending the call.

"Who was that?" Cornelius asked.

"That was Dr. Shelton's office," she said, frowning. "They want me to come in for something, but they wouldn't say what. I'm going to go get changed," she said, turning to her son. "We'll continue this when I get back, okay?"

Wilbur nodded and smiled. "Sure, mom."

. . .

Franny sat in the familiar waiting room staring at the light blue walls, leg bouncing nervously. She didn't know why she was being called in today, but her curiosity had been piqued by the conversation she'd had over the phone this morning. A woman sat across the way, pushing a stroller back and forth while looking at a magazine. She didn't even know they still made those. Her thoughts were interrupted by the door to the triage opening and a nurse coming out into the waiting area.

"Franny?"

She stood and smiled at the woman. "That's me," she said, following the nurse through the door.

"How are you today?" the nurse asked.

"I'm wonderful," Franny replied, following her as she directed her past the usual room where they would take her vitals, then past the line of exam rooms, finally arriving at an office in the back of the triage.

"Great to hear," the woman said, gesturing for Franny to take a seat in front of the desk. "I'll go get Dr. Shelton and let her know you're here."

Franny nodded and watched as the nurse walked down the hallway and disappeared through a door. Her thoughts were going a mile a minute, trying to figure out why they'd called her in today. Was she being sent to another doctor? Was she going to be told she was included in a class action lawsuit again? Was she-

"Good morning, Franny," Dr. Shelton said, interrupting her thoughts. "It's so good to see you," she said with the biggest grin Franny had ever seen.

Franny stood and hugged the doctor, forgoing her handshake. "You, too," she said sincerely before they both took their seats.

Dr. Shelton pulled out some papers and smiled at Franny. "You're probably wondering why I've called you in today."

Franny chuckled. "Just a little bit."

The doctor nodded. "I'm sorry if this seems a bit last minute, but you were the first person on my mind when I heard about this."

Franny's brow furrowed. "Heard about what?"

"Well, as you know, your condition has been something that for a very long time has been something of a mystery in the medical world," Dr. Shelton answered, flipping through the papers. "But as of recently, there have been incredible advances in women's health, specifically your condition," she said, glancing at the brunette.

Franny felt her chest constrict. For a long time she hadn't known what was wrong with her. That is, until after she gave birth to Wilbur and they had discovered an underlying issue. She fought hard not to get her hopes up.

Dr. Shelton slid a pamphlet across the desk, detailing exactly what she was talking about. "I called you in today to let you know that there's a clinical trial that's been ongoing for about a year now to treat your specific condition. The cure hasn't been approved just yet, but the results have been overwhelmingly positive. Almost every woman who's had this treatment done has said that their pain has all but vanished. Which is why I called you in to see if you'd like to participate in this trial," she finished, a hopeful look on her face.

Franny stared down at the paper, her mouth slack and hand subconsciously touching her abdomen. She couldn't believe what she was seeing and hearing. Her eyes bounced back and forth between the pamphlet and her doctor, unsure if she even believed any of this. Then again, what reason did she have not to believe it?

"What exactly would this entail?" Franny asked, her brows creased.

Dr. Shelton nodded. "Well, it would include medical testing first and foremost to make sure you're in good health. Then the treatment itself, which is virtually non-invasive and completely painless. That would take place once a month for about six months, throughout which you would undergo medical monitoring," she explained, clasping her hands together on top of the desk. "You would just need to come in once a month for the treatment, and then you'll be on your way."

"And this will help with the pain?" Franny asked, eyeing the doctor, who nodded. "Wow," she whispered. "How incredible that would be, not being in pain every day."

Dr. Shelton nodded and locked eyes with her. "There's one other thing about this treatment that I thought you'd like to know. Ninety seven percent of women that went through this medical treatment were able to conceive within a few months."

Franny felt her heart palpitate. She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. She shook her head and looked back at the other woman. "Dr. Shelton, I've all but given up on having more children. Neil and I are in the middle of trying to adopt, so that ship has sailed."

"Well, it's definitely going to be up to you if you want to do this," Dr. Shelton said. "Although, in my professional opinion, I think you should. I don't think any woman should ever suffer in silence the way I know you have," she said, smiling sympathetically at the brunette.

Franny bit her lip, contemplating. "When would this trial be taking place?"

"After your full-body physical and medical testing, pretty much whenever you're ready."

Franny nodded, wringing her hands in her lap. Her heart was being pulled in two completely opposite directions, and she didn't know which way was right. She argued with herself that even if she did go through with the trial, it would be solely for the chronic pain and not to try having more children, despite how much her heart yearned for it. "I'd like to do it."

Dr. Shelton smiled. "Excellent. When would you like to start?"

. . .

Late July 2037

Wilbur wandered through the house, trying to find something to do. He wanted to play chargeball, but it required two people, and every relative he'd asked was busy doing something or other. Carl was off grocery shopping, his mom was busy writing a new composition, his Grandparents were deep into a heated chess match. Even Spike and Dimitri were busy. There was just one person he had yet to ask, and it was a long shot he'd even be free.

He tiptoed up the steps to the lab, surprised that the door was open. His dad was sitting at his desk, tinkering with his watch.

He knocked softly on the open door. "Hey, dad."

Cornelius looked up from his desk and met his son's eyes. "Wilbur, you know you're not supposed to be in here."

Wilbur rubbed his arm sheepishly. "I know. I was just wondering if you could play a game of chargeball with me?"

The blond looked back at the device in his hand, considering. "I'm a little busy, Wilbur," he said regretfully. "Did you ask Carl?"

"He's busy."

"Your mom?"

"Busy."

"Grandpa Bud?"

Wilbur sighed. "I already asked everyone, dad. They're all busy." The boy turned to leave. "It's okay, I'll just play by myself I guess."

Cornelius frowned and looked at the invention, remembering the promise he'd made to not put work before his family.

"Wilbur, wait," Cornelius said, standing. Wilbur turned, his face hopeful. "I can take a break. I'm all yours."

Wilbur's face lit up. "Really?"

"Really."

A wide grin spread across his face as he raced his dad down the stairs and across the house to his room, the two laughing the whole time. Wilbur darted right to the chargeball station, firing it up. He grabbed two gloves, pulling one onto his right hand and throwing the other to his dad.

"Okay, the object of the game is to get the ball into my goal," Wilbur explained, making sure all the components were running. "The first one to two points wins."

Cornelius nodded, listening intently as he pulled on his own glove. "Only two points?"

"It's harder than it looks," Wilbur said in mock irritation. "Ready, dad?"

The blond nodded, taking his spot across from Wilbur. "Ready."

Wilbur took his spot across from his dad, smiling smugly. "I'm not going to take it easy on you, old man."

Cornelius raised an eyebrow. "Old man?"

Wilbur let out an evil laugh before throwing the chargeball across the station, the ball bouncing off of his dad's barriers. Cornelius began throwing his own, the balls of electricity bouncing off the walls, one going straight into Wilbur's goal. The boy's mouth was slack in shock.

"Beginner's luck," Wilbur grumbled. Suddenly he and his dad were furiously throwing chargeballs across the station, the balls bouncing around the room like Wilbur after a cup of coffee. Before he knew what had happened, the station lit up on Cornelius' side.

He beat Wilbur two points to zero.

Wilbur's jaw dropped. He'd lost...to his own dad. He never lost. Ever.

"I demand a rematch!" Wilbur announced, restarting the game.

Cornelius chuckled. "Okay. But I'm not going easy on you this time, little boy," he said with a smirk.

Wilbur narrowed his eyes at his dad, Cornelius mirroring his expression. The two started throwing the chargeballs around the station again in a heated competition, dodging and blocking each other's balls as they threw. Cornelius threw a ball straight into Wilbur's goal and the game lit up again on his side.

They played about ten more games, the blond beating him every single time, Wilbur getting more frustrated with each loss. Cornelius was laughing maniacally as Wilbur ripped off his glove and threw it on the floor.

Wilbur pointed an accusing finger at his dad. "You're cheating," he concluded.

Cornelius raised an eyebrow. "How do you figure that?"

"Because no one is that good at chargeball, not even me," Wilbur said with his hands on his hips. He looked entirely too much like his mother, especially with that look on his face.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, kid," Cornelius said, ruffling Wilbur's hair.

The boy smoothed his hair back down agitatedly. "Like what?"

Cornelius paused, considering. "Well, for one thing, I was a kid once who

liked playing games, especially when it came to games that relied on physics. Plus," he said, smirking. "You can't beat me at my own game," he winked.

Wilbur's jaw dropped. "You mean-"

Cornelius just smirked, amused at the wonder on his son's face. He'd never told Wilbur that chargeball was his own creation. One night while he'd been working on an invention, he'd accidentally discovered he could harness electricity in his hands. After that, he figured out he could throw said ball of electricity. He'd had a few coworkers test it out with him, and once they'd found the best way of safely throwing the ball around, they'd made it a game with rules and everything. Thus, chargeball was born.

The boy shook his head, trying to make sense of the words coming out of his dad's mouth. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Like I said, there's a lot of things you don't know about me."

"Well, why don't you ever talk about them?" Wilbur asked, frowning.

Cornelius bit the inside of his lip habitually. "Because," he said, thinking. "There are some things you don't need to know. And there are things that don't matter because they happened a long time ago. And there are some things you'll find out soon enough," he shrugged. "All in good time." He looked at the holographic clock on the wall and frowned. "Sorry to cut this short, but I need to get back to work." He turned before walking out the door. "We'll finish this later," he said, grinning.

"You're on," Wilbur laughed, watching his father leave his room in awe.

. . .

Wilbur rolled over in his bed, his mind feeling restless despite his body being tired. Sleep was simply evading him. His dad's words from earlier that day kept repeating in his mind: There's a lot of things you don't know about me, kid. He had wanted so badly to interrogate his dad to get him to divulge something, but the man never answered any of his questions. His eyes wandered from the rotating planets on his ceiling to the holographic clock on his wall. Three A.M. He'd gone to bed four hours ago, but his eyes had refused to stay closed. He stood up and stepped onto the hovering platform next to his bed and floated to the floor. What good was it to stay in bed when he couldn't sleep anyway?

He walked across the room, ignoring the pile of clothes that still needed to be put away, and exited into the hallway. No one seemed to be up, so he decided to take a stroll around the house. He sauntered through the winding hallways, letting his legs take him wherever they wanted and his mind to wander. By the time he realized where he was, he was already climbing the stairs to the lab.

Soft voices floated across the room, sounding like someone was playing back a recording. The boy crept to the open door, peeking inside. He saw his dad sitting on a stool with some kind of contraption on his head.

"Franny, he's so beautiful," one of the voices said. It sounded like his dad, but he couldn't be sure from this distance.

"I know," his mom's voice choked out. "I can't believe how perfect he is."

"You know, he still needs a middle name."

"Hmm, what about Eugene?"

Wilbur grimaced.

"I don't think it fits him. He needs a name that's strong and means something."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"What about Maximus?" his dad's voice suggested. "It means 'greatest.'"

"Oh, I like that. Wilbur Maximus Robinson."

Wilbur smiled, realizing whatever his dad was listening to was about him. "What are you watching?" he asked, interrupting the silence.

Cornelius jumped and whipped his head around. "Wilbur, don't scare me like that," he said, taking the contraption off his head and setting it down. "Why are you awake?"

The boy raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing, dad."

Cornelius paused. "Touche," he laughed, gesturing for the boy to come in.

Wilbur walked over to his dad, eyeing the machine. "What is that?"

The inventor grinned. "That is an excellent question, son. Would you like to see for yourself?"

The boy's eyes widened. His dad was willingly going to let him use one of his inventions? He wondered off-handedly if he was dreaming. "Really?" Cornelius nodded. "Sure," he said, sitting on a stool next to his dad.

Cornelius placed the contraption on Wilbur's head, adjusting it so it fit properly. "Okay, give me a date."

Wilbur's brows furrowed. "A date?"

"Yes. Any date from the time you were born to now."

The boy frowned in concentration before finally deciding. "Okay, um, August 19th, 2024."

Cornelius' hand froze above the keypad. "Your birthday?" The boy nodded enthusiastically. The inventor couldn't help but remember that day for different reasons. Mainly that being the day he almost lost his wife. "I don't know if you want to relive that. Try a different date."

Wilbur thought about it for a moment. "Okay, then how about October 23rd, 2024?"

Cornelius chuckled. "You're really not going to give up on the birthday thing, are you?"

"Nope."

The inventor laughed and typed the date into the keypad, then turned the knob twice and pressed the button. The screen swirled for a moment before an image came into focus. Two blurry blobs were hovering above him.

"He looks just like you," the taller blob was saying, looking down upon him. Baby Wilbur was looking up through what looked like a translucent eggshell at his mom and dad. Even though they were blurry, he could tell they were grinning from ear to ear. Twelve-year-old Wilbur was watching the monitor in awe.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" the shorter blob was responding, smiling lovingly down at her baby. "I never thought I'd be able to watch a baby develop right before my eyes. And he's so perfect."

"He's ready. We need to get him out as soon as possible," a new voice said. His parents looked up at whoever had entered the room, smiling down at him one last time before disappearing. Suddenly the eggshell was being removed from the incubation pod and he was being lifted into a nurse's arms. "Welcome to the world, little guy. I know you haven't known them very long, but I can tell your parents are going to be wrapped around your little fingers." Now the nurse was carrying him to another room, wrapped in a green blanket. She placed him in his mother's arms, her blurry face looking down at him warmly. "Here's your mommy and daddy."

A teardrop escaped his mother's eye, landing softly on the blanket as she whispered, "Welcome to the world, my little tadpole."

The monitor fizzled out at the end of the memory, Wilbur's staring at the monitor in amazement. "What did I just watch?" he asked, looking over at his dad.

"That was the day you were taken out of your incubation pod," Cornelius said, taking the headset off of the boy's head. He smiled fondly at his own memory of that day.

"I don't understand," Wilbur said, eyeing the machine curiously. "That wasn't a recording?"

Cornelius turned to face him. "No. Those were your own memories from your own mind."

Wilbur's brows furrowed in confusion. "How? Why? What-I have so many questions," he said, glancing at the machine.

"It's called a memory scanner," Cornelius said, answering Wilbur's last question. "It was my first real invention. I made it because,..." he trailed off. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter why I made it, but it is the most important thing I've ever invented."

Wilbur tilted his head, his eyes glancing around the room at all of the other inventions surrounding them. "Really? Out of everything you've ever invented, this one's the most important?" he asked skeptically.

The inventor chuckled. "Yes, it is. Because this one invention was what got me to where I am today. It kickstarted my entire life."

Wilbur looked at his dad curiously. There were so many things he wanted to ask him, but he knew if he tried, his dad would change the subject. He decided he wasn't going to give in this time.

"Why did you invent it?" the boy asked, tilting his head.

Cornelius frowned. "I just said it doesn't matter."

"You never answer any of my questions," Wilbur huffed. "I know you say it doesn't matter, but it matters to me. I want to know."

"Wilbur, it was a long time ago, and you know I don't like to dwell on the past."

Wilbur clasped his hands together and pouted. "Please?"

Cornelius sighed, relenting. He knew better than to argue with Wilbur; he would never let this go. "Okay, fine. I'll tell you," he said, meeting his son's eyes. "But just remember, it happened a long time ago and it doesn't matter anymore. Okay?"

Wilbur nodded. "Okay."

The inventor closed his eyes for a moment, readying himself. "I invented the memory scanner because I wanted to find my birth mother."

"Your birth mother?" Wilbur asked, frowning. "But Grandma-"

"I was adopted, Wilbur."

The boy froze, his heart dropping with guilt. Why did he have to pry? "I'm sorry, dad-"

"Don't apologize," Cornelius said seriously. "It's not something that I'm ashamed of. In fact, I'm proud that I'm adopted. We wouldn't be sitting here if I wasn't." His eyes wandered back to the memory scanner. "I spent the first twelve years of my life in an orphanage, wondering who my real mother was. But," he said, looking back over at Wilbur. "I don't need to wonder anymore, because I have two parents who have always loved me like their own. And I have an amazing wife and son whom I love more than anything in the entire world. If I hadn't invented the memory scanner, I never would've met them." The inventor smiled to himself, his heart warming at the memory.

Wilbur felt his heart tug for his dad. "How come you never told me?"

Cornelius placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "Because it doesn't matter anymore," he said with a small smile. "Who I was and the things that happened to me back then aren't important. What's important is what I have and who I am right now. Which is why I tell people to keep moving forward, because dwelling on the past does no one any good." He let go of Wilbur's shoulders. "Does that answer your question?"

The boy nodded silently.

"Good," Cornelius said, nodding toward the door. "Why don't you head back to bed? It's late."

"Okay," Wilbur replied. He reluctantly started walking toward the exit. "Night, dad."

"Goodnight, Wilbur."

The boy paused at the door and looked back at his dad, who was smiling warmly at him. Without warning he ran across the lab and threw his arms around the man's neck in an unexpected embrace. Cornelius nearly fell off his stool from the impact, laughing softly as he wrapped his arms around the boy's small frame.

"I love you, dad," Wilbur said into his dad's t-shirt, his voice muffled by the fabric.

Cornelius pulled him in close and kissed the top of his son's head. "I love you, too, Wilbur."

The boy squeezed his dad's neck one more time for good measure before finally pulling away. "Night, dad," he said, walking back toward the door. Wilbur paused one more time to look at his dad, seeing him in a new light. He realized at that moment that he finally understood his dad's motto of "Keep Moving Forward," and would never see the man the same way again.

. . .

Early August 2037

The sunlight peeked through the curtains, creating a golden glow in the room around them. Cornelius squinted his eyes open in the morning light, Franny the first thing they landed on. Today was the day he was dreading-the day he had spent months planning out. The day events that couldn't be avoided would finally be set in motion. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, heart tugging as he watched his wife sleep. She was always so beautiful like this: hair loosely splayed out on her pillow, her lips parted just so, the blanket just below her bare breasts. His lips turned up in a sad smile, his hand reaching out and caressing her face. Franny sighed contentedly, nuzzling her cheek into his palm. She lifted her hand and entwined their fingers, kissing the back of his hand.

"Good morning, Mrs. Robinson," he said softly.

Franny smiled sleepily. "Mmm. Morning," she mumbled back, barely awake.

Cornelius leaned in and softly pressed his lips to hers. "I have to leave soon," he reminded her, amused when she pouted. "Don't worry, I don't have to leave for a little bit. We have time," he continued, tracing his finger along her jaw.

Franny bit her lip. "What did you have in mind?"

Cornelius said nothing as he gently rolled on top of her, leaning down and pressing their lips together again. They had fallen asleep last night post-coitus, so they didn't have to worry about the barrier of clothes. The worry of the next few days was getting to him, so he was going to savor every second with her before he had to go and let events play out without his interference. He kissed a trail from her jaw to her chest, taking a pert nipple into his mouth. Franny arched her back, gasping quietly as she entwined her fingers in his golden locks. He moaned into her breast, adoring the way she reacted to his touch. He switched to her other side, eliciting the reaction once more.

Franny wrapped her legs around her husband's thighs, urging him closer. She tugged at his hair, guiding him back to her lips. He laughed softly. "Impatient, are we?" he asked.

The brunette reached her free hand around and scratched her nails down his back, making him groan. He kissed her with an urgency, their lips moving in a dance to which only they knew the steps.

He reached down between them, guiding himself inside her, reveling in her warmth. She felt like home.

Cornelius reached up and intertwined their fingers, eyes boring into hers as he began moving, watching intently as her cheeks flushed and lips parted.

"God, you look so beautiful like this," he said softly, keeping a steady rhythm with every thrust.

Franny's head rolled back on her pillow, her legs around his like a vice. He leaned down and kissed her neck, feeling her squeeze around him. The blond pulled his hand away from hers and grabbed her waist, bringing his knees up so he was half-kneeling under her hips. He wrapped her legs around his torso as he leaned down to kiss her, never slowing his rhythm. She let out quiet moans with each thrust, involuntarily tightening around him. He knew his wife was getting close, and he wasn't going to stop until she came first.

"Cum for me," he commanded. Franny's lips parted, soft moans escaping as she flew over the edge, the feeling overwhelming her. She squeezed her legs tighter around his waist, her fingernails digging into his back. Cornelius slowed the pace, thrusting deeper as she rode out her orgasm. Watching her as she let go pushed him over the edge, and he followed suit a few thrusts later, breathing her name.

The blond slowed his movement, only slightly out of breath. He moved to pull away, but Franny's legs gripped him, keeping him in place. He paused, looking at her inquisitively.

"Stay," she whispered, caressing his cheek. His blue eyes softened as he gently lowered himself, careful to stay inside her. She liked laying like this sometimes, being this close.

"Of course," he said, kissing her softly. He gently brushed hair out of her face as their eyes met, his heart feeling so full he thought it might burst. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, but he knew he had to go soon.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, exchanging lazy kisses, before the holographic clock on his nightstand started beeping softly. He looked at Franny regretfully. "I have to get ready," he said softly. His chest constricted at the thought of leaving her. If anything happened to this woman, his best friend, his soulmate…he couldn't live with himself.

The brunette sighed. "I know," she replied. "I suppose we should get up then."

Cornelius stood up, helping her out of the bed. He pulled her in for just one more kiss before taking her hand and leading her into the bathroom.

"When are you leaving?" she asked, throwing her hair into a loose bun.

Cornelius pressed a button, and the water came on automatically to their preferred temperature setting. "In about an hour," he said, stepping into the shower.

Franny nodded and joined him under the water. "I'll miss you," she said, placing her hands on his torso, feeling the muscles hidden just beneath the surface.

His eyes softened as he captured her lips in a kiss. The blond picked her up by the backs of her legs and spun her around. He pressed her back against the shower wall and made love to her for the second time that morning.

. . .

Franny stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around Cornelius' neck. "Bye, sweetheart. I'll see you in a few days," she said, kissing him goodbye. He wrapped his arms around her waist and returned the kiss, deepening it briefly.

"Ew, get a room, you two," Wilbur said, grimacing.

The couple broke apart, laughing. Cornelius turned and wrapped his arms around his son. "Bye, Wilbur," he said into the boy's hair, Wilbur returning his embrace. He leaned down and whispered one last piece of advice in his ear: "A rip in the fabric of time can always be resewn."

Wilbur pulled away and frowned up at his dad in confusion. "Huh?"

The inventor looked at Wilbur pointedly before he was cut off by his watch beeping. "I need to go," he said, giving Franny another quick peck. He walked to the door and turned, looking back at his family one last time before leaving. "I love you guys," he said sincerely, taking the briefcase and lab coat Lefty held out for him. "Wilbur, listen to your mother while I'm gone. Tallulah, Lazlo, try not to fight so much. Gaston, please don't break any more windows. I'll see you in a few days." The door closed behind him.

. . .

Cornelius walked into the garage, glancing behind him to make sure he wasn't being followed. Once inside, he walked to the far corner of the room to a black pillar. The inventor pushed a button on the wall, a section of the pillar splitting down the middle to reveal a newly installed travel tube. He stepped inside the pillar as the doors closed, the floor bottoming out a second later. The tube twisted and turned for a few seconds before it spit him out underground next to a single monorail train car. He climbed into the car and the train zipped through the city, finally coming to a stop beneath an open manhole.

Cornelius exited the car and pressed a button on his watch, disappearing from sight. He'd figured out a way to use the same cloaking device with which the time machine was equipped on his own person. Once he was sure he wouldn't be seen, he climbed up the ladder and exited onto the street in front of the orphanage, their agreed-upon rally point.

The inventor quickly entered through one of the busted windows so as not to draw attention to the taped-off front door. Once inside he ascended the stairs to the third floor, to the room right beneath his old quarters. He strode over to the desk on the opposite wall and pressed a button, the wall opening and revealing a small bay of monitors playing live surveillance footage. On one side the screens showed different angles of his home, the other side his office.

He took a seat in front of the monitors and watched the live feed of his office intently. On one of the screens there was a man wearing all black throwing eggs at his office building. His eyes flicked over to the failed inventions bay feed, noticing Dor-15's holding cell was already shattered. When he looked back over at the office feed, he breathed a sigh of relief as she approached the man.

Now there was no turning back.

. . .

Henry watched through his binoculars as the Robinson family ate dinner inside the mansion, waiting. They had been watching the house for hours after Cornelius left, waiting for someone to exit the house. They had tried the garage door, but it was locked with a Robinson alarm system, which was virtually un-hackable. He watched in fascination as Cornelius' wife and son karate chopped pieces of meatloaf on the table in some sort of contest to see who could chop faster. "What the hell are they doing in there?" he muttered to himself.

Robert sighed. "Who cares. This is taking forever," he groaned, flinching when the other man whipped his head around.

"Would you shut up?" Henry snapped. "Your incessant whining is hurting my ears."

Robert bit his tongue, forcing himself not to say exactly what was on his mind. "You know, I can't believe you made me present his own design to him like I thought it up," he said, crossing his arms. "Again."

"How the hell was I supposed to know he would recognize it?" Henry shot back, keeping his sight focused on the house. "The man had amnesia for weeks."

"Yeah, well speaking of the man, you know he's going to figure out someone stole his precious time machine."

Henry rolled his eyes behind the binoculars. "Robinson is going on a business trip, so he's going to be gone for a few days. That'll give us plenty of time to take it without him noticing."

Robert rubbed his forehead in irritation. How had he let this man drag him along to abet him again? He kept making promises of fame and fortune, but had yet to follow through on any of them. The young man was starting to think Henry was using him for his own personal gain with no intention of sharing the bounty.

"Henry, this is ridiculous," he said, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Why do you even want to steal the time machine? It's not like anyone's going to even think we invented it."

"Well, if any of your ideas were any good, we wouldn't have to steal one of his."

Robert's jaw dropped. How dare he? "My ideas are not-"

"Shut up," Henry cut him off. "Someone's coming out." Through the binoculars he saw Cornelius' son walking outside with a garbage bag thrown over his shoulder. He could faintly hear someone yelling at the kid in the distance, but was unable to make out the words. Henry watched as the boy trudged through the rain to the garage, holding out his hand to signal for Robert to get ready. The garage door creaked open, and the boy slipped inside. "It's open," he said, shoving the binoculars into Robert's hands. "This is our chance. Let's go."

. . .

"Wilbur, can you take the trash out, please," Franny said, handing the full bag to her son. The poor kid had chunks of ground beef in his hair from the meatloaf they had for dinner.

"On it," he said, pulling a poncho on and turning toward the door. Franny grabbed his shoulder, gently turning him around. "What is it?" he asked.

"You have some food in your hair," she laughed, picking the beef out of his locks. She looked down at him and frowned, realizing her son had grown about five inches in the last few weeks. "When did you get so tall?" she mused, caressing his cheek. It seemed like yesterday his too small body was being transferred to an incubation pod, and now here he was standing almost at her eye level.

Wilbur's face went pink as he smiled awkwardly. "I don't know, mom," he said, smoothing out his hair. She was staring at him, a strange look on her face. "Is everything okay?" he asked, glancing at the door.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Yes, sorry honey," she said, nodding toward the door. "Everything is fine. Don't let me stop you," she chuckled.

The boy turned and walked out the back door, garbage bag slung over his shoulder. He heard his mom call out after him through the rain: "Wilbur, make sure to close that door tight or else the alarm won't engage!"

"Yeah, mom!" he called back over his shoulder. Once at the garage door he placed his hand on the scanner, the alarm disengaging as the door swung open. He walked inside, shiny blue metal taunting him from the middle of the room. He walked straight to the trash compactor, tossing the bag into the almost-full bin, his eyes wandering back to the time machine, so tempted to just touch it…

Wilbur forced himself to walk past the vehicle, knowing if he even put a finger on it, somehow his dad would find out and he'd be grounded yet again. He exited the garage, half-heartedly pulling the door closed behind him, too distracted by his own thoughts to realize it hadn't latched.

. . .

Henry took a step toward the house, nearly falling backwards when Robert grabbed the back of his shirt. "There's someone else here," Robert whispered, seeing a tall man wearing all black standing behind a tree near the garage. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating him.

"What?" Henry said, looking in the direction Robert's eyes were focused. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dark, but he finally saw the man standing there, waiting. "What the hell?" he said, his hands balling into fists. The boy exited the garage, leaving the door ajar behind him. The man darted across the yard and through the open door, Henry watching on powerlessly. There was too much distance between himself and the house, and he knew there was no way he would've made it before the other man did. He swore under his breath as the time machine lifted up out of the garage roof a few seconds later.

"Well," Robert said, shoving the binoculars back into the other man's hands. "We're too late. Oh, well. I guess we can go now," he said, turning.

"Wait," Henry said, a thought occurring to him. "Neil said there were two time machines. The other one could still be in there," he said, sneaking through the shadows across the lawn.

Robert exhaled and sneered at Henry's back, reluctantly following him to the open garage door. He glanced back toward the house, a wave of guilt crashing over him as he saw Cornelius' son watching helplessly as the time machine vanished into thin air. He was thankful for the cover of shadows and the sound barrier the rain provided. "I can't do this, Henry," he said through the open doorway.

"What are you talking about?" Henry asked, looking around the huge empty room.

"I mean, I'm done," Robert said, taking a step back. Henry whipped his head around and glowered at him. "You can keep on trying to screw Robinson over, but I'm done. I don't know what your deal is with him, but I won't let you drag me into it. I can't do it anymore. It isn't right," he said, turning around. "I can't keep letting you try to ruin my reputation. Find another sucker to do your bidding." And with that he disappeared out of sight.

Henry watched in stunned silence as Robert vanished into the night. He ran to the open door and looked around, eyes struggling to adjust to the dark. "Robert?" he yelled, thankful the kid had gone back inside the house. There was no response. "Robert?" he yelled again, stepping out into the rain. He punched the door with the side of his fist when he realized the man was actually gone. "Damn it!"

Suddenly he heard voices outside, the sound getting closer. Panicking, he looked around to try and find a way out, knowing there was no way he'd be able to run and not be seen. The voices were getting nearer, fast. Leaning against the wall a few feet away was a bicycle, reflectors shining dimly in the light from the dining room. Making a split decision, he grabbed the bike and hopped on, pedaling away as quickly as he could, narrowly avoiding being caught.

. . .

Wilbur watched helplessly as the time machine rose out of the garage's roof, his heart in his throat. This was bad. Not like the broken weather machine still hiding in his closet bad. More like his dad might actually kill him and throw a party bad. Through the dark he vaguely made out the person in the driver's seat, a tall man wearing all black and a bowler hat. The man was looking down at him, laughing maniacally as he and the time machine vanished into thin air with a flash.

Heart thudding in his chest, Wilbur turned on his heel and ran back inside, ripping off his poncho as he went. Curious eyes watched him as he darted through the dining room, ignoring his family's interrogation. Carl kept his optics on the boy as he disappeared into the hallway, discreetly backing away from the family as they finished cleaning up dinner.

Carl ran through the hall to catch up with Wilbur. "Little buddy, what's wrong?" he called out.

Wilbur skidded to a halt and turned around to face the robot. Carl could tell by the look on the kid's face that something was very wrong. He was wringing his hands together and looked like he was about to burst into tears. "Carl, I need help. Dad's going to kill me," he said, starting to hyperventilate.

"Take a deep breath," Carl said, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Wilbur bit his lip and inhaled. "Iaccidentallyleftthegaragedoorunlockedandsomeonestoleoneofthetimemachines," he said in a single breath.

Carl's optics almost popped out of their sockets. "What?!" he screamed.

Wilbur held his hands up, gesturing for the robot to lower his volume. "Keep it down, Carl," he said, looking around to make sure no one heard them. "I think I can fix this, but I need to get to the other time machine, and I know you know where dad's keeping it."

The robot shook his head, holding up his hands. "Oh, no no no," he said, backing away. "Your dad will kill the both of us if he finds out I let you anywhere near that thing."

Wilbur's eyes started brimming with tears. "Please, Carl," he begged, clasping his hands together and dropping to his knees. "I messed up. I can fix this, but I need your help." He looked up at the robot with puppy dog eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist. "Please."

Carl sighed, relenting. "Fine," he agreed, vowing to stop being such a pushover once this was said and done. "But you owe me."

"Excellent!" Wilbur jumped to his feet with a wide grin on his face, the tears magically gone. The robot rolled his optics and led the boy through the twisting hallways of the mansion, arriving at an eight-foot-tall family portrait. Wilbur frowned. "Uh, Carl? We don't have time to reminisce. We need to get to the time machine."

Carl rolled his optics and moved a smaller painting next to the portrait aside, placing his hand on a hidden scanner. The portrait hissed and split in two between his dad's and mom's faces, revealing a secret staircase spiraling downward. "So bossy," Carl mumbled.

The two exchanged a look before darting down the stairs, going through a few more doorways with passcodes, the robot fumbling a few times. Why did his creator have so many passcodes? Finally, after putting in the wrong code a half dozen times, they arrived in the time lab, exhaling in relief. There, in the middle of the room sat the red time machine illuminated by a lone light.

Wilbur sprinted to the vehicle, opening the hatch before he could second guess himself. His dad was going to be furious if he found out about this-or worse, disappointed. Why hadn't he been more careful? Whether he ended up grounded for life or if this all blew over, he just wanted to clean up his mess before his dad found out. He typed something into the keypad on the dash.

"Wait, what's your plan?" Carl asked as the hatch closed.

Wilbur buckled his seatbelt, eyes focused ahead of him. "I have no idea," he replied.

"Wilbur, wait." Carl met the boy's eyes through the glass. "Be careful, little buddy."

The boy nodded at his robot companion. "I will," he said, pressing a button on the keypad. Multiple rays of light encircled the time machine as it lifted off the ground, disappearing in a flash.

When he was sure the time machine was gone, Carl activated his internal system, sending a message.

CARL: The bird has flown the coop.

A moment later his internal system dinged with a new message.

CORNELIUS: Right on schedule.