A/N: I'd just like to state in advance, but I'm probably a terrible person for writing this. Please enjoy.

The Flynn-Fletcher household was quiet. Everyone had gone to sleep long ago except for the two boys. It was one of those quiet summer nights where it didn't matter if you stayed up past your bedtime.

Phineas was engaged in a handheld video game with the volume low and Ferb was reading a book by flashlight.

"Hey Ferb," Phineas said suddenly, putting down his game. "Can I ask you a question?" Ferb nodded and leaned a bit towards his brother to show he was listening, but continued scanning the page.

"Why don't you talk a lot?"

And just like that, Phineas had Ferb's full attention.

"I mean, I figured you were just quiet, but when you do talk, you sound really confident, so I thought there might be some other reason," Phineas continued.

Ferb was struggling inwardly as the question kept repeating in his mind. He wanted to tell Phineas, so badly, but how could he? He didn't have the words to describe the pain he'd gone through. And he certainly didn't have the words to express how grateful he was to Phineas for helping him find his voice again. And even if he did, could he even say them?

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Phineas said, picking up on some of his brother's turmoil. "I was just curious."

But Phineas wasn't just curious. He cared.

"I…" he started, but didn't continue. Instead he scooted over and patted the spot next to him. Phineas was up and over there in a flash.

"Ferb?" Ferb nodded, letting his brother know he was okay.

"How much do you know about my mother?" he asked.

"Hardly anything," Phineas admitted. "I know your parents got divorced, but never found out why." Ferb nodded again, but didn't speak for a long time. He clicked the flashlight off and in the stillness of the summer night and the comfort of the darkness that kept secrets, he told his story, hesitatingly and low, but he told it.

"My mother was abusive," he stated matter of factly. "I learned quickly that crying wasn't going to get me anything- anything good anyway," he amended. "I couldn't make any noise with-without setting her off. You can imagine how that must have worked with a curious three year old," he whispered ruefully. "Dad didn't know," he added. "He suspected, but he was at work most of the time and when he was home he would fight with Mum. I didn't know at the time, but he had been working on divorce papers for a while. The holdup was getting custody of me. There was a big custody battle. They needed proof of abuse, and trust me, there was," he said with that same rueful smirk. The green-haired boy rubbed his wrist, remembering past bruises. Phineas gently reached over and took his brother's hand in his own. It was a small gesture, but it was worth more than he knew how to say.

"By the time Dad met your mum, I hadn't spoken in more than a year. Dad was starting to wonder if I would ever speak again.

"But then I met you. You remember those first couple of months; I just kind of followed you around like a lost puppy and would shrug whenever you asked me something."

"Wait," interjected Phineas. "Does that mean when I asked you what flavor lollipop you wanted and you said 'red', that was the first word you'd said in over a year?" Ferb nodded.

"Wow."

The two of them sat together, wrapped together in the silence of early morning.

"I'm glad you're here," Phineas finally said gently. "I'm glad you're safe."

"Me too." Ferb slid more fully under the blankets and held them up for Phineas. "Do you want to stay over here?" Phineas nodded and laid down next to his brother.

"Good night Ferb."

"Good night Phineas."

There were no more words to say.

A/N: Hopefully, I'm not too terrible a person. Hope you liked it (or cried, I'll take either). Thanks for reading!