Okay so I've had this idea that Phineas had some kind of disease when he was born, and I got the iron lung thing from a great book – it doesn't have any people with super-human abilities though, and it's a bit old-fashioned, but it's still good – called 'All the Way Home' by…okay I forget who it's by. :y And if I don't get around to writing this into the story, Phineas' dad left because he couldn't handle having a kid that took up so much money by being in the hospital for years. Almost all of us agree that Phineas' dad was a butt, so I think I can get away with this.

Anyway, the point is I don't own anything here except the idea and my writing. (but I did steal Phineas' italisized line from the book. Without the 'Candace' in it…oh I guess that was a duh.)

They thought I was doing it for myself, for my own personal gain.

They thought I was crazy with my obsessive desire to 'bust' my brothers.

Funny, though.

I didn't really need to bust Ferb, only Phineas.

Though they were so connected it sometimes seemed like the same thing.

I've never had that kind of connection with my little brother.

I guess I should be glad Ferb was the one to give him what I couldn't.

I just wish I could've.

But I guess one of the biggest reasons behind my obsession, is that it's pretty much my fault.

When he was born, he wasn't a healthy baby.

He had to be in one of those machines called and iron lung because his body was so weak.

He stayed in the hospital for a long time.

Years, really.

A very long time.

He was five, and he already knew how to talk.

Of course he did – it's Phineas, for crying out loud.

He looked up at me from his lying-down position hooked up to the machine.

"I'm never going to be able to breathe, Candace. I'm never getting out of here."

"You're really stupid."

I turned my nose up at the tiny boy below me.

"You can do anything, Phineas."

The red lights flashed, illuminating the white walls and the tall, glass, double doors. The siren was so loud it pierced my ears, drowning out all thought. My heart thudded wildly in my chest as we screamed to a stop.

"All right, everybody out." The paramedic who'd ridden in the back with us ushered us out behind the stretcher that held my little brother. We had to run to keep up with the paramedics pushing it through the doors and down one of the halls.

"Wait!" Isabella called after them as we pushed our way through the patients crowding up the lobby. I shoved people out of the way, making room for me and the four kids to run after the paramedics.

"Hey! You can't go in there without a visitor's badge!" someone in the general direction of the desk yelled.

"Try and stop them." Buford challenged, making himself an immovable wall between us and the security guard. "You guys go, I got this."

"Thanks, Buford." We chorused as we kept running. The stretcher was heading in the direction of the Intensive Care Unit. We had to reach him before they got him into a room and flooded it with nurses and weird equipment.

"What happened, anyway?" I demanded, turning my furious gaze on my younger step-brother. Ferb looked sick.

"W-we were planning something and he-he started coughing, and…he couldn't stop…and he collapsed…and I didn't know what to do…" The boy fell silent, looking exhausted from that much talking.

"Ferb took charge and told me to call the police while he and the boys got Phineas comfortable." Isabella took over. "What's going on? Is he going to be okay, Candace?"

"I…I don't know." I murmured. "Did you tell mom and dad?"

"Buford and I called them." Baljeat told me.

We ran through the double doors that marked the beginning of ICU, wasting time looking around desperately, trying to find the right stretcher.

"There!" Ferb yelled, startling us all with the loudest sound we'd ever heard come out of him. We raced over to the paramedics, who were maneuvering the stretcher into a little room.

"You kids need to back off." One of them warned.

"No, wait, that's my brother!" I protested. "Please. We have to go with him."

"Are you all family?" The paramedic looked over the mismatched group of kids incredulously.

"Well…" Baljeat began.

"Yes." I cut in quickly. "We're all family. We have to stay with him."

"I don't know…" The paramedic frowned. Phineas moaned from the stretcher. He was wheezing, trying hard to breathe.

"Can…dace…" He breathed. "Ferb…"

"We're here, we're all here." Isabella told him. He tried to smile.

"Isa" He began to cough.

"Shh, shh, it's all right, don't try to speak." I told him.

"All right, you can stay, just don't get in the way." The paramedic decided, letting us all in the room. They got Phineas settled on the bed, wrapping him up in the blankets and hooking him up to several machines. Then they left to get the MRI ready for him. Now that he was breathing more naturally through the machine, we were calmer. But it was still hard to see him so pale and his little face twisted so much as if in concentration where there should have been a smile. I held his tiny, fragile hand as he slept, trying not to think of what might be wrong with him this time.

"This is horrible." Isabella moaned. "I can't believe this is happening."

"He'll pull through." I told her confidently. "He can do anything." I rubbed my brother's hand again. "Can you hear me? Anything. Anything, Phineas."

So what did you think? Did it suck? Was it the most amazing thing you've ever read? Was it so horrible I should take it down right now and hide my laptop to spare you the pain of reading any more of my work? Was it so cool I should write a second chapter right now? (Just a note, if you do agree with any of the bad things, I will probably just laugh and not listen.)