The Bond Only Silence Can Create

Chapter 1

Ferb

Summary: Phineas and Ferb have been through some fun times together; but their brothers, and being brothers means you have to be there for the bad times just as much as the good.

Characters belong to Dan Povenmire and Jeff "Swampy" Marsh.

The school was overcome with joy, the students and teachers laughing; everyone was running for the various doors placed strategically throughout the high school. The bell had run, the bell signaling that for two glorious weeks school would stay closed.

Though not as fun or long as summer, spring break had its charms; warm weather for instance, but there was a major down side. Sixteen year olds Phineas Flynn and Ferb Fletcher, two boys who had always managed to seize the day and make sure each was different then the last, behaved oddly; keeping their heads low and refraining from any big projects. No one knew why exactly, and after Phineas had refused to explain, nobody bothered to ask questions.

Everyone had vacated the school, except for Phineas and Ferb, two step-brothers closer than any real siblings. Ferb, a teenager of British nationality, had his head deep within his steel locker, digging through clattered blue prints and text books; while Phineas, a boy whose imagination knew no bounds, waited patiently behind him.

Both had grown over the past six years, Phineas had hit a growth spurt the previous summer, now eye level with his brother, while Ferb had slowly grown into his abnormal body. Their wardrobe hadn't expanded color wise, Phineas wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, orange hoodie, and a pair of jeans. Ferb wore a purple long sleeved shirt and a darker pair of jeans.

"Ferb, almost ready?" He asked, knowing full well he wouldn't get a vocal answer. After the many years of life he had shared with Ferb, he could get any answer from even the slightest of movements; a small twitch was just as good as a shout for him.

Ferb slammed his locker door shut, leaving all the blueprints inside, a sad sight for Phineas. Ferb said he had reasons for not wanting to build projects during the spring, reasons he refused to tell Phineas. The green haired teen glanced at his brother, the closest to a response Phineas would get. "Great, let's get going, school freaks me out after-hours." Phineas turned to the closest door, unable to see Ferb roll his eyes.

Phineas could guess those reasons though; the best explanation was that his mind was too focused on his mother to take on any projects; she had passed away around this time thirteen years ago, he wasn't exactly sure on the date though. "Coming Ferb?" He questioned, holding the door open for his brother. Ferb practically ran past the door, and to home, not slowing down for anything, not even Phineas, who forced himself to keep up. They continued like that for the walk through Danville, neither talking. Phineas had become used to this, whether it was a walk from the high school, or the middle school, or the elementary school.

Almost home, Phineas decided to break the uncomfortable silence, saying almost anything and everything that could come to mind. "I think the instructor in wood shop is out to get us." He said, hoping to get even the slightest gesture from Ferb: nothing. "Guess that's what happens when you're paid so little." Ferb started walking faster, glaring forward as he left an almost hateful sense in the air. Phineas, struggling to keep up, continued his one sided conversation. "So how was calculus, you show up the teacher again?" Phineas laughed, awkwardly.

Ferb busted into an all out sprint, running through streets, people, and even the occasional traffic. Phineas sighed, knowing that his brother was track team material; he couldn't catch up in a million years. Nothing left to do but take his time, it wasn't like Ferb was going anywhere but their shared room, slamming the door and lying in his bed all day, the same thing he did every day for every spring break.

It was perfectly understandable though; his mom had died, something Phineas couldn't even imagine happening to his own mother. Maybe there was something he could do to cheer up the poor lad, something that could remind him of all the good times he had with his mom for his first three years of life; a video perhaps.

Of course! His father had millions of home videos in the garage; all he'd have to do was edit them into a DVD and play it for his brother, an easy task for someone with his talents. Phineas was already running through mental scenarios of how successful his idea would be.

Almost three blocks away, the green haired boy was still running at full pace, not bothering to look back. He knew Phineas wasn't able to keep up, nobody in school was. He could have been the track leader, but it would conflict with Phineas and his hobbies, plus he didn't really care for sports; he found them quite trivial and unimportant for the everyday life actually.

He loved Phineas, there was no one he'd rather spend his days with, no one he'd rather call brother or friend. But there were instances when the American could get on his nerves; these times were few if ever, however this time of year always brought out the worst in Ferb, and in turn, brought out the worst in everyone around him.

Caught up in his thoughts Ferb stormed into his house, slamming the front door shut as he walked through the hall. His father and step-mother would still be at work for another two hours, then they'd come home for an hour before having to drive to the airport to pick up Candace who was visiting from college and he didn't even bother questioning Perry's whereabouts.

He stomped up the stairs, not sure why though, with nobody home to hear or witness his aggressive attitude it seemed rather unnecessary though he knew that the stomping and slamming was all for him. It felt good to take his aggression out on the doors and stairs, and it was better than taking it out on a beloved family member.

He stomped into his room . . . or rather Phineas' and his room, slamming that door as well; sitting on the edge of his bed, which rested on the left side of the room. It would take Phineas at least ten minutes before he'd reach the front door, enough time for Ferb to cool down before having to tolerate his brother's constant trial of getting Ferb to "open up" as he often worded it.

He leaned back on his bed, closing his eyes and starting what promised to be a long process of counting; numbers comforted him for some reason, as did building, or the tree in the backyard that he and Phineas had spent so many summer mornings and evenings under.

He started - obviously - with one, which led to two; at some point he entered the hundreds, almost reaching eight hundred before he heard the front door open and close. He could hear shoes scuffing against the floor, the fridge door open and slam. He wanted to lock the door, but he had no right; this room also belonged to Phineas and it wouldn't be fair.

Downstairs, Phineas had entered the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing the closest can of soda he could. He debated on walking upstairs and into his room but decided against it, knowing full well Ferb would want peace and quiet, at least for a little while. And Ferb with his sense of right and wrong wouldn't lock him out.

Instead he went into the garage where his step-father kept most of his old belongings and easily everything on Ferb's mother tucked away in boxes. "Where to start?" He questioned to himself, "Corner maybe?" He started digging through various boxes filled with either beloved family objects or crappy junk, and even some things that fell into both categories. Dust particles flew about the dark, musty basement; Phineas went into a sneezing fit which subsided after awhile, allowing him to continue with his search.

After five minutes of digging, he reached one of the last and easily oldest boxes in the garage. He opened it, slowly; sure that the box along with its contents would break if he moved to fast. After what seemed like the entire spring break, and possibly season, the contents were completely visible. On top was a wedding album, under it was the wedding video, and at the bottom was a stack of photos and other various tapes.

Phineas grabbed the photo album, being just as - if not more careful - with this as he was with the box. He opened it perfectly down the middle. The first picture he seen was of a man, easily Lawrence, and a green haired woman standing in a narrow wooden hallway. He had never seen a picture of Ferb's mom, had no clue what she looked like. He studied the woman closely, the first thing he noticed was that she didn't look happy, in fact she looked rather sad.

He closed the book, placing it on the cold concrete floor beside him and diverting his attention back to the box, grabbing the small stack of photos on top of the video tapes. It seemed that sadness was a common theme, with each picture looking worse than the last. Lawrence was the only one who even bothered to smile.

So saddening were these pictures that Phineas couldn't stand to look at them for another moment. He placed them on top of the photo album, wondering if all pictures were just as horrid. Finally reaching the home videos, he grabbed as many as he possibly could and rose to his feet, stepping over the depressing photos, making a mental note to reorganize all the boxes in the garage after he was finished.

Ferb wondered where Phineas had wandered off to, or what he was doing, or if he was mad at the green haired boy for running off. He considered going downstairs and apologizing for his actions, and he was about to, until he heard the wooden stairs creak as weight was pressed against them.

He rolled onto his stomach, burying his head into his pillow and waiting for the red haired boy to enter. Ferb could hear Phineas getting closer and closer, and then get farther and farther. He turned his head to peak at the door, seeing nothing but the plain, old door. He resisted the urge to stand up and ask Phineas what he was doing today.

He wished he could say that things had eventually gotten better, he wished he could say that he and Phineas had invented some crazy device, or had some wild adventure, but he'd be lying if he did. Remaining in the silent, unlit room for an hour and listening as the world went by; he was a great listener. Among the many sounds he heard the distinctive sound of the garage opening, the tires rolling into the driveway then a small screeching sound, as if someone had braked suddenly. He could hear the car door slam shut, then the door in the garage leading into the house open.

Once again the stairs creaked with the weight of more footsteps. Ferb, certain that someone would walk into the room, sighed and prepared for the invasion of his privacy, but again the footsteps faded as his father walked away from the door. Lawrence stepped into the computer room, where Phineas, seated in a black, spinning leather chair, was placing videos into an odd-looking machine, one he was certain he'd never seen before. "Phineas?" He said, catching the boy's attention.

"'Yeah dad?" Phineas replied, tearing his eyes away from the small screen.

"I hope you plan on putting those . . ." He turned, making sure Ferb wasn't around to hear, "Make sure you put those photos back before your brother spots them. This time of year always puts him in a bad mood, I'd hate for it to get any worse."

"Right, sorry dad, I'll put them back in a little while." He said, returning his attention to the computer screen.

"Good, now you two behave while were gone." Lawrence said turning around.

"You and mom going somewhere?"

"Candace hopped on an earlier flight, so we're going to the airport to pick her up. Your mum's waiting downstairs in the car, so I must be going."

"Okay, tell mom I love her." He mumbled.

"Right." Lawrence closed the door behind him.

Phineas sighed, he had watched about an hour of home videos and only had about two minutes of usable footage. Whoever Ferb's mom was, she certainly wasn't the happiest person, or maybe just not the best when it came to these photographic moments. The house was silent, with Ferb staying in the dark room and Phineas messing with the computer across the hall. Each heard the occasional patter of footsteps on the floor, though they knew that it belonged to their pet Perry.

Phineas played more tapes, getting a decent amount of footage. It was weird, but the only tapes that featured the happy version of the old Mrs. Fletcher seemed to be before her pregnancy, though from what he heard from Candace their mom acted slightly depressed when she was pregnant with him; something to do with hormones. He occasionally spotted Ferb, either in the background or crying in front of the camera.

He burnt all the footage he'd saved onto a shiny, silver disk; ejecting it, along with the current video tape, out of the computer. Jumping out of the chair he left the disk lying on top of the DVD player by the small screened television and bolted into the hall. Running to his room and knocking on the door, Phineas could barely contain his excitement.

No answer, though Phineas wasn't expecting any. He opened the door, not surprised to see Ferb lying on his stomach with his head deep in his pillow. "Hey bro, I was hoping you could take a look at this, maybe it'll make you feel better." Phineas said softly.

Ferb didn't move, staying so still that Phineas almost considered him dead, or asleep. "Alright, I understand. You need just a little more time." Phineas turned for the door.

"Let's get on with it then." Ferb rolled over, knowing full well that Phineas deserved at least this much for the cold shoulder earlier.

"Thanks." Phineas turned back around, smiling oddly. He gestured for Ferb to follow him.

Ferb took a deep breath and reluctantly followed his brother into the computer room where the boy was setting up a DVD. Ferb looked with curiosity as the black screen turned blue. Phineas grabbed the remote and started hitting buttons, Ferb instantly realized that he had no idea how to operate the small television. It was funny really, that someone as gifted as Phineas was unable to operate such a simple device. Ferb slowly reached for the remote, grabbing it from Phineas and pointing it directly at the T.V., hitting one button before an image of his mother flooded onto the screen.

"Sorry, guess I accidently started it." Phineas said, sitting on the edge of the desk. Ferb stared forward, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. He stayed like that for the duration of the video, which wasn't exactly long; ranging to a pitiful eight minutes and twenty two seconds.

Videos went by, music played; Ferb could see his old flat in almost every shot, could hear his mother's voice. Phineas pushed himself off the desk and towards his brother, expecting some tears and a hug, instead he could see hatred in those eyes. Ferb turned off the television, dropping the remote right on the ground. Calmly Ferb walked over to the DVD player and ejected the disk. Phineas was in a state of awe, not sure what was going to happen.

Ferb grabbed the disk, and in one quick movement, snapped it in half. "Why?" He asked, holding a piece in each hand, waving them in front of Phineas' face.

"I thought it would cheer you up," Phineas said nervously, seeing this weird new side to his brother that he had never seen before nor wanted to. "I wanted to help you."

"You want to help me!" Ferb shouted, Phineas nodded slightly. "Then stay out of my life you clot, next time you get the idea to help me, it won't end well!" It took Ferb most of his mental prowess to realize he had just threatened Phineas, the only person he trusted with his life. "Phin, I . . . I'm sorry." He said sheepishly.

Phineas remained silent, and judging from the expression on his face he was either going to cry or throw a punch, both of which would hurt Ferb. Instead, the red haired boy turned around and sat back on the edge of the desk, staring at some invisible object directly in front of him.

Ferb looked down at his hands, seeing the broken pieces of the DVD in each. He dropped them onto the ground in disbelief, or horror, or both. Phineas just continued his zombie-like stare. Ferb rubbed the back of his head, debating internally. "My mum's not dead." He said after several seconds of awkward silence.

This was enough to snap Phineas back into reality. "What?" He questioned.

"She's not dead." He repeated, "She was never killed in a car accident, she just left." He turned towards the window and continued explaining. "When I was a tot, I constantly whined, don't know what for, maybe I was just doing it for the attention. One day, after a particularly nasty tantrum, my parents left me to my toys and walked out of the room to talk."

"Go on." Phineas requested after prolonged silence.

"She said 'I can't take this anymore Lawrence, the constant whining and crying' or something along those lines, and needless to say my name came up quite a few times." Ferb took a moment before he continued. "They walked back into the room and pretended everything was fine, she tucked me into my crib that night, saying she'd see me tomorrow. Obvious to say I haven't seen her since."

Phineas wasn't amazed that Ferb could remember something that far back; the British boy always had a perfect memory. "So why does Dad say she passed away?"

"I guess he chose the lesser of two pains. It hurts someone when a loved one leaves because they have no choice, such as death, but it hurts even more when someone leaves because of you."

"Ferb, I'm so sorry." Phineas jumped off the desk, taking small steps towards his brother.

"Well don't be . . . I mean who needs her." He started pacing back and forth, eventually walking to the window and opening it. "Who needs her!" He repeated, shouting it to the world. "Fuck her!" He shouted even louder, his upper body completely outside the house, believing she could hear him because of it.

Then the oddest thing happened; the hate and anger in his eyes faded, replaced by tears. Phineas reacted instantly, wrapping his arms around Ferb and patting his back as he squeezed tighter. Ferb continued to weep. "Why doesn't she love me?" He asked, taking in five breaths for the entire sentence.

It occurred to Phineas that through all his hatred and anger towards her, Ferb blamed himself for the absence of his mother. "It's not your fault." He reassured, repeating the statement two more times. Ferb's hands slowly rose up Phineas' back.

There was a certain vulnerability to someone when they cried, and this time was no different. While he and Ferb were close, they'd never shared such emotional moments, never tread over the hollow grounds of sadness. This intimate moment lasted for an entire fifteen minutes before Perry broke the silence with his usual chattering sounds.

"You gonna be okay?" Phineas questioned.

"Yeah." Ferb mumbled after removing his hands from Phineas's back. They separated, though Phineas kept a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Why don't you head back to the room, I have to take these tapes back to the garage and fix up the box with all of . . . her stuff." Phineas didn't even like thinking of the woman Ferb once called mom. He always thought there was good to be found in everyone, but now realized that some people didn't deserve things like happiness or love.

"I'd like to come with you, if it's alright." Ferb said, wiping away the last of his tears, regaining his emotionless expression and voice. Phineas nodded, turning around and grabbing the video tapes. "Let me help." He said, grabbing half the tapes out of Phineas's arms.

"Thanks." Phineas said at an almost inaudible level. He walked out of the room, Ferb quickly following behind. "So why keep this to yourself for so long?" Phineas questioned, waiting by the stairs.

"People don't care for the problems of others." He stated.

"Some, but you know you can always count on me, right?"

"Yes, through everything I've experienced you're always the common factor of joy; and I hope you know the same." Ferb's complicated way of saying that Phineas was the only constant bright spot in his life, which flattered the red haired boy.

Phineas started walking down the stairs, Ferb still mere inches away. "Yeah, life wouldn't be as fun without you bro."

"Let's quit with the sentimental stuff for awhile Phin, at least for an hour. These emotions are quite draining."

Phineas nodded in silent agreement, holding open the door for his brother with his one free hand. Ferb stepped into the darkness, hitting the garage door opener; the setting sun's light washed over them and most of the garage's content, making for a wonderfully bright orange view.

"Wow, didn't realize it was so late." Phineas exclaimed, glancing at the massive ball of hydrogen setting in the distance.

"Mom and dad where supposed to be home hours ago. Wonder where they are?"

"Oh, Candace boarded an earlier flight so they're at the airport picking her up."

Phineas lead his brother to the depressing box in the corner, not bothering himself with stepping over the pictures, pressing his heal down as hard as he possibly could and even twisting to be sure there's some kind of imprint. "Would you mind helping me with something?" Ferb asked.

"Not at all." Phineas said, thinking it not necessary to ask what that something was.

"Could you grab the other half?" Ferb grabbed the photos, admiring the top one with his brother's shoe imprint. He threw them into the box with little care and grabbed the left side. Phineas rushed to his brother's aid, lifting the other half. "The curb," Ferb quickly explained.

They easily reached the end of the driveway, dropping the box like it would melt their hands if they held it any longer. "You know the garbage won't be picked up for another three days."

"Were not throwing it out Phin," Ferb turned to the front door, "Wait here."

In five short minutes, Ferb returned to his brother's side, a welding torch in one gloved hand and two welding masks in the other. He handed one to Phineas, then placed his own on. "You're sure you want to do this?" Phineas questioned under the mask. "Won't your father be mad?"

"He'll understand; its closure." He placed his free hand on Phineas's chest, pushing him back two feet.

"Don't you think it's a little dramatic to use a dangerous, metal focused tool to ignite a small box?"

"Nope." A short flame shot at the box, instantly setting it ablaze. Phineas shrugged, at least his brother knew how to use such dangerous tools. Ferb turned off the torch, lifting his mask and watching his horrid toddlerhood memories go up in smoke.

After twenty minutes of silence staring as the pictures slowly burnt to a black crisp they started cleaning up, putting out the fire, moving the welding supplies back into Ferb's closet, and shutting the garage door.

"So now what happens Ferb?" Phineas asked, watching as the garage door slowly closed.

"Beg pardon?" Ferb replied, diverting his attention from the spot on the driveway that for one small instant held the only thing that could proof he once had a mother, whose known whereabouts no longer bothered him.

"This is probably the most you've ever talked to me; I just wanted to know if you were going to keep this up or -"

"Or if I'll remain my charming, quiet self." Ferb interrupted.

"Self-complimenting aside, yeah." Phineas chuckled.

Ferb opened his mouth, preparing a response, but closed it when headlights flooded his field of vision. Phineas turned to see the family car pulling into the driveway. They stepped back, allowing the car to pass.

"Ferb, you were saying." Phineas wanted to continue the conversation, something Ferb was refusing to do.

"Phineas, could you and Ferb get Candace's bags out of the trunk?" His mother, Linda, yelled from the passenger door, grabbing a brown leather purse from beside her seat.

Phineas didn't respond, glaring at Ferb with a sense of curiosity. Ferb, rubbing the back of his neck, glanced at anything that could keep him from looking into the saddening eyes of his brother. In their awkward silence, Phineas could hear Candace speaking from the back seat.

"So when Stacy and I walked inside, we realized it wasn't a costume party. Can you believe that?" She said, stepping out of the family car.

They listened as Candace told Lawrence and Linda about her experiences at college, continuing long after they had entered the house. Phineas watched the door close before he turned back to Ferb. "Let's get Candace's bag inside." He said, his usually imaginative eyes going slightly cold.

"To answer your question I see no harm in talking to you, though I hope we can keep it strictly between the two of us." Ferb turned his attention back to the curb as if he believed that staring at it long enough would give him the same, odd type of pleasure he had felt when he burned everything involving his mother. "If it's alright with you of course; I'm just not comfortable speaking in front of other people, Phin."

It honored Phineas, in a weird way that Ferb only felt comfortable speaking in front of him. "Yeah, that's fine with me Ferb." His eyes regained their usual shine of happiness. "Now would you mind helping me with those bags in the trunk?"

"Of course," Ferb said, a smile starting to form on his face.

"One more thing Ferb," Phineas said, Ferb turned to his brother, "All this emotional stuff has given me an idea."

"Go on."

"I know what were going to do tomorrow!" Phineas stated gleefully.

"Ahead of the usual schedule, do you mind explaining?" Ferb asked.

"Well, were going to need . . ." Phineas started, Ferb just nodded and smiled. He may always hate his birth mother, but if he had the opportunity to go back and change things, he wouldn't.

Phineas continued talking, telling Ferb of his brilliant plan to be executed the following day. His mom left him with several problems; trust issues, fear of vocalization, but she did give him something that more than made up for it. She gave him a brother, a friend, someone who could understand him better than even he could. For that, he supposed, he was grateful. "Sounds fun, huh!"

He gripped Phineas' shoulder then - for some unknown reason - he wrapped his arms around the boy, hugging him as if it would be the last time he'd ever see the American; Phineas copied the motion instantly.

It wasn't until Candace shouted ten seconds later that they separated. "What's taking so long with those bags?"

"Were on it!" Phineas shouted back. "Some things never change Ferb." He said, turning to the red car parked in the garage.

"I certainly hope they don't," Ferb muttered. He was enjoying the way things were and thought it too risky to ask for a change in anything, though if something had to change, he'd prefer it to be his relationship with his brother, in a good way of course.

And where better to start with then those three little words that mean so much to every type of relationship. "I love you." He said, following Phineas to the garage. This wasn't the first time he had said these words to his brother, though it was the first time he said them outside the comfort of their shared room, as well as saying it for no particular reason other than to hear them.

"I love you too," Phineas quickly replied, patting his brother's shoulder before grabbing the brown leather bag closest to him. "Let's get these inside before Candace goes crazy."

"Or at least crazier," Ferb muttered, grabbing another bag and following his brother.

This, in no way whatsoever, should be considered canonical. I do not know what has happened to Ferb's mother, or if she has anything to do with Ferb's constant silence, though it is a reasonable explanation. I also apologize if this doesn't seem like the correct portrayal of Ferb, but with someone who usually gets one line of dialogue per episode, it's not easy to get a straight personality.