Foreword: This is an epilogue of sorts to Meet the Robinsons, so obviously it has spoilers. I actually wrote this AGES ago, but I never posted it because I had planned to add onto it. By now it's obvious that's not gonna happen, so I'm posting it as it is. I always thought Lewis and Wilbur had the weirdest yet coolest father-son relationship, and I feel like it was a missed opportunity that we never got to see an interaction between Wilbur and his father as an adult. This is my attempt to explore that relationship and seize that missed opportunity. It isn't my best work, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. :)

Listen, my son, and be wise, and set your heart on the right path.

— Proverbs 23:19

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I dared not blink as I watched the time machine rise swiftly into the sky, the telltale streaks of color swirling all around as the temporal field stabilized. Seconds later, it was gone in a flash of light, and my heart seized up within my chest. A sudden apprehension invaded my mind with the thought of what would happen on the other side of history, where my son and my younger self were headed.

It was strange that I hadn't thought to worry until now. I had become so content and secure with my life and family that even as I worked toward my dream of making time travel possible I never considered the possibility that one thing could change everything. I had told young Lewis, hadn't I? That nothing was set in stone, and that he had to make the right choices if he wanted to see this future? And I wondered for the first time if I had made the right choice. Was I right to pursue such a dangerous avenue as time travel? With everything that had happened, did I still believe that it would do more good than harm?

That remained to be seen, however, and there was no use worrying about it now. Time travel is time travel, and is itself, by its very nature, the one part of history that cannot be changed. It can only be managed, guarded, and used with great care and responsibility. If there was one thing I'd learned from all this, it was never to take for granted what I have, because nothing and no one is beyond the reach of change.

I felt a warm squeeze on my hand, and looked to my right at my beautiful wife. She gave a nervous smile and quietly murmured, "It feels like they've been gone a long time, doesn't it?"

It was a strange observation, considering that we were dealing with time travel, but I could understand her feelings. "Are you worried?"

"A little," she admitted. "I mean, it is Wilbur we're talking about... Come to think of it, why on earth did we agree to let him take Lewis home?"

I gave a halfhearted laugh and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry. He'll be back. And it may be naïve to say this, but—I'm pretty sure he won't change anything too drastically."

"Would we even know if he did?" Franny asked.

Good question. I finally understood just why it was so strange and unnerving to be on this side of the time machine. There was no knowing what would change in the past, or the present. History had suddenly become fluid. It could take a completely different form, and I might never know. I wondered if even now my memories were being rewritten according to an altered timeline. I thought back on the day I said goodbye to Wilbur Robinson on the roof of a run-down orphanage, and I realized that they must be.

I smiled heartily as I studied Franny's face, and wondered if there were any subtle changes in her as well.

"Do you remember the day we met?" I asked wistfully.

"She frowned a little, like she was thinking deeply about it, and at last whispered with a knowing look and a raised eyebrow, "Yes... As I recall, I actually met two strange boys that day. One of them I eventually married, and the other... I think I eventually gave birth to."

With a nervous grin I looked around at my family. Some of them were looking at Franny and I, while others still had their eyes fixed on the sky where the time machine had disappeared.

"Well," I said, laughing at the absurdity of it all. "At least we're all still here... I think."

Just then a crack like lightning drew everyone's attention to the sky, and we all gave a relieved cheer when the time machine emerged from subspace and came in for a landing. It touched down on the grass a few feet away from me, and I was glad to see that Wilbur was alone in the cockpit.

I stepped forward to greet him as the hatch slid open, but to my surprise he hopped out and dashed right past me without making eye contact. He probably would have made it to the porch before I turned around if Franny hadn't gotten in his way and immobilized him with a hug.

"Oh, Honey, I'm so glad you're back! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Mom," he blathered, talking unusually fast even for him. He pulled away from his mother a bit forcefully, prompting a confused look from both of us, and ran toward the house without another word. I stared after him until he disappeared inside with a slam of the front door, and worry began to set in. Everyone looked at me, as though I had some explanation for Wilbur's uncharacteristic behavior. The strange thing was that I did.

I stepped quietly down the hallway leading to Wilbur's bedroom, wondering why I felt so nervous about seeing him. I had seen my son every day since he was born and proudly watched him grow into the well-meaning rascal he was today. I had never felt apprehensive about talking to him before, but even I had to admit that today was special—for me, yes, but even more so for Wilbur. My memories of meeting him as a child were decades old, but for him it had all just happened. Just today he'd traveled a generation into the past and met a boy his age, who he'd worked with, played with, fought with, and ultimately parted with. A boy whose life he had changed forever and who he could never see again, even though he would see him every day. A boy who he had called his best friend.

With a shuddering laugh of pure, raw emotion, I wiped a tear from my eye and stopped in front of the misshapen blue door that I passed so often I hardly noticed it anymore. The words 'Agent W's Secret Headquarters' were emblazoned at eye level above a lightning bolt insignia, and below it, a crooked piece of notebook paper tacked to the wood with a long strip of tape read, 'DO NOT DISTURB' in large letters drawn in thick red marker.

I pulled the sign off the door, noting the fresh red ink that bled from the paper onto my fingers, and after staring at it for a long moment I took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

"I'm busy," Wilbur snapped from inside his room, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes and smile. Turning the knob and cracking the door open, I peeked inside to see my adorable little boy lying in bed with his arm resting against his forehead. Perhaps he was busy staring at the ceiling. The reawakened kid in me couldn't resist playing with him a little.

"Too busy to have a nice long talk with your best friend?"

Wilbur sat bolt upright, looking at me like I was a ghost. "Oh! Dad," he muttered, fumbling for words. His eyes flitted sheepishly between me and anything that wasn't me, and he mumbled through a fake chuckle, "So, you... remember that?"

"I remember everything," I replied, unable to resist rubbing it in his face.

Wilbur made a funny noise paired with an even funnier face, and slumped forward as he childishly muttered, "Time travel sucks."

I let out a chuckle, then walked over to his bed and sat down beside him, touching my fingertips together on my lap. He stiffened and swallowed, averting his eyes when I turned to look at him. My smile melted away with the realization that this awkwardness, although superficially amusing, was something that might take some time and effort on my part to clear up. I certainly didn't want my son to feel uncomfortable around me for the rest of his life—especially after all he'd done for me, and all we'd been through together.

Still, that didn't mean I couldn't have some fun with him in the process.

"So, Wilbur, can I ask you something?"

The poor kid gave a nervous chuckle and forced himself to look up at me. "Sure."

I leaned in close to his mortified face, wearing the most serious expression I could muster, and drolly asked, "Where did you get the idea to pretend you were a time cop?"

It was extremely difficult not to laugh at the look on Wilbur's face.

"Um..." he drawled, "I watch too many spy movies?"

I chuckled and grated the top of his head with my left hand as I playfully muttered, "That among other things."

Wilbur gave me a flustered look and set to reshaping his disheveled hair, which for a moment had looked almost like mine.

"That's payback for the fruit hat," I teased.

He looked up at me in something akin to shock, and I wondered for a moment as I sat there holding his gaze if I'd said something wrong.

"So," he murmured, sounding small and vulnerable for the first time in a long time. "You really do remember everything?"

I nodded, and Wilbur's gaze drifted to the ground while his mouth hung slightly ajar. "Wow... How did I ever think I was gonna get away with this?"

"I know, right?" I scoffed, and I couldn't keep myself from laughing. "You should've just told your mother and I from the start. It would've saved a lot of trouble."

I let the jovial tone of my gentle chiding dwindle into silence, and paused for a moment to watch Wilbur bite his lip and stare at the floor. When it became clear to me that he wouldn't confess on his own, I cautiously asked, "Why didn't you?"

He sighed, and his face remained downcast. "I don't know, I guess I was just afraid of how much trouble I'd be in, and—what you would think."

I almost gasped in surprise, and my heart seized up in my chest as Wilbur continued. "I mean, you're so smart, and for me to make such a stupid mistake—"

"Now, hold on," I cut in, loathe to hear any more. I was suddenly aware of a great failure on my part, and one I would need to correct here and now before I could keep moving forward. Wilbur stopped and met my gaze, giving me his full attention. I took a deep breath, realizing with a hint of chagrin that I didn't know exactly what to say. What eventually tumbled out of my mouth was simply, "When I was your age I hijacked and crashed a time machine. Mistakes don't get much stupider than that."

Wilbur gave a small but genuine laugh, and I could see his spark starting to come back. He donned his signature smirk and snidely muttered, "Well, when you put it that way…"

I smiled back at him, then once more grew serious. "Listen, son," I said, resting a hand on Wilbur's shoulder and pausing for a second to collect my thoughts. "I don't ever want you to feel like you can't come to me for help. It doesn't matter what you do, or how badly you fail. I will always be there for you. Now that doesn't mean you won't have to face the consequences of your actions… But it does mean you won't have to face them alone. So, can I count on you to keep me in the loop from now on?"

Half a grin rose up the right side of Wilbur's face. "Hey, if there's one thing I learned from all this, it's never to lie to you again."

I chuckled, thinking the conversation was over, when out of the blue Wilbur gingerly said, "Um, Dad… can I ask you something?"

Surprised, I looked down into his round brown eyes that looked just like his mother's. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him so sincere. So much for my fleeting hope that he was about to pull a retaliatory joke.

"Go on," I said, feeling just a little apprehensive for reasons I didn't completely understand.

Wilbur hesitated for a moment, holding my gaze, then finally asked, "How come you never told me… how lonely you were as a kid?"

I blinked, uncharacteristically dumbstruck, and unconsciously pulled my hand away from my son's shoulder. I never expected Wilbur—my Wilbur—to wonder about something so profound. Before I could collect myself enough to reply, he suddenly got sheepish again and averted his eyes.

"I mean, I guess you probably did," he muttered, "it's just—I've always had a family. I've got family coming out of my ears. I have so much family, it's hard to be alone even if I want to be… So I never realized until I met you—until I met Lewis—what it would be like to not have anybody."

My son paused to heave a deep sigh, and I just stared at him in complete awe. If he was trying to butter me up, it was working. Forget grounding him; at this rate I would be lucky if I could keep from bursting into tears.

"I don't know," Wilbur muttered with a shake of his head, nervously brushing his right hand up his left arm. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry I always took you for granted."

I choked down a wave of emotion rising up in my throat and got down on the floor, on my knees in front of my son so that I could look him directly in the eye. He looked a little confused as I lightly grasped both his shoulders, but he kept silent and held my gaze, waiting for me to speak.

"Oh, Wilbur, you don't have to apologize for that. If there's one thing every child should be able to take for granted, it's family. And one of the things I'm most proud of is that I was able to give you what it took me twelve years to find."

I stopped for a moment to take in the adorable sentimental look on Wilbur's face, then breathed in and said my final piece. "Never be sorry for what you have, son. Just be grateful for it."

Wilbur smiled the most heartfelt and genuine smile I'd ever seen, and simply replied, "Thanks, Dad."

Hopefully I didn't freak him out too much when I leaned forward and gathered him up in hug. I almost had to laugh, because it was exactly the same as when I'd done it so many years ago. At first he just hung in my embrace, then gingerly wrapped his arms around me, and at last squeezed me like I was the only solid thing left for him to hold onto. I stayed still and silent, pretending not to notice the muffled shuddering breaths that betrayed him. I would wait here like this for as long as my headstrong, image-conscious teenager was willing to let me... until I became Lewis to him.

After what could have been anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes, his grip released, and I took the hint and pulled away. Wilbur smiled at me, blushing and wiping his eyes. This time I resisted the urge to laugh at him. I didn't want to ruin my chances of having other moments like this in the future. As for the present, the day was young, and I didn't have to go in for work until tomorrow. I had planned on spending this afternoon tinkering in my lab, but heck, that could wait.

"Come on, Captain Time Travel," I said, rising to my feet. "What do you say we go out and have some fun?"

Wilbur gave me a shocked look. "Wait," he said, sounding surprised. "You mean—I'm not grounded for life?"

I smirked and rolled my eyes. I probably was going too easy on him, and I'd probably live to regret it, but right now I was just happy that he was here. "Honestly, son, I think the ordeal you put yourself through is punishment enough. Besides, I can't exactly let you take all the blame. A genius like me really should've known better than to keep a working time machine in the immediate vicinity of a thirteen-year-old boy."

And with that, my work was done. Wilbur perked right up to his usual exuberant self and sprang to his feet, deliberately repeating, "Well, when you put it that way... Race you to the park!"

He dashed out the door without giving me time to react, and all I could do was give late chase with no hope of catching him. I felt old as Wilbur's taunting laughter grew fainter ahead of me, but I still felt like the luckiest man alive.

After all, how many fathers could say that they were their son's best friend?

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Afterword:

On the off chance that any of my subscribers actually read this fic, I wanted to let y'all know that I'm writing fanfiction again, and it feels great! XD I haven't written any Ratchet & Clank for a while, but with the movie coming out in a few months, I'm hoping that will change. ;) The fandom I'm dabbling in right now is WordGirl (yeah, you heard me right), so if any of you have seen that show, look forward to what promises to be a pretty fun post-series chapterfic. ^-^