So...this one was a surprise when I wrote it.
If you are in any way at all affected badly by mentions of self harm or suicide, please be noted that that is what this entire story is about. For some reason, I have been so obsessed with Ferb being depressed lately.
This takes place three years after the summer. Phineas and Isabella are dating (though there isn't really Phinabella) and Perry still fights Doof.
Anyway. I don't own Phineas and Ferb.
Wow. I just...wow. I cried writing it.
GENERAL POV
It was dark outside; the stars glittered brightly in the cloudless sky and the crescent moon offered a small source of light.
Silver flashed in the backyard, sharp metal swinging through the air and connecting with soft flesh, tracing its way into the skin and carving its existence into it. The dark crimson was hard to see in the night as it gathered at the edges of the abrasions before slipping to the dewy ground below them.
The trembling hand paused in its actions for only a moment, taking the time to carefully wipe the scarlet blood from the grass. There couldn't be evidence.
The fingers tightened on the blade, bringing it down again and again on the upper leg, a place no one ever saw. His shorts were long enough to hide what needed to be hidden.
He took every precaution.
Never on the arms; it was too obvious, too open. Always the legs. There was more skin there, which meant more pain. It meant he could be properly punished for being here, a place where no one wanted or needed him.
A soft creaking through the backyard; his only mistake was believing that it was the trees or the loose door of the fence.
The silver glinted again and a strangled sound alerted him that he was no longer alone.
It was too late; the blade had taken another bite from the scarred expanse of skin, the blood quenching the knifes thirst.
A choked sob. His sister came stumbling over, tears running down her cheeks. But he knew it was only because she knew she would get in trouble for not catching him sooner.
She dropped to her knees next to him, prying the now warm metal from his fingers and flinging it to the side before burying her face into his hair, stroking his back soothingly as she cried.
"Why?" she choked out.
The hot tears dropped onto his skin as he sat, stoic and unresponsive. She pulled away and watched him with heavy eyes, her irises sparkling with tears.
"Please," she murmured softly, resting a cold, trembling hand on top of his. "Please, don't forget. I love you so much."
He snorted in disbelief and turned away, that one action breaking her heart into thousands of pieces.
"You think I'm joking?" she questioned him, her face filled with anguish. "You are incredible. So smart and talented and so good at listening to people. I've always wanted to be a little more like you," she admitted, her voice cracking.
He turned to stare at her, his fingers tugging on the fabric of his shorts in a feeble attempt to hide the still bleeding abrasions.
Her hand closed over his, stopping his movements, and she peeled off her sweatshirt and pressed it lightly to his skin. Her eyes watered as she held the fabric down and met his intense gaze.
"Promise me," she whispered, her voice thick with tears. "Promise me you'll come to me if you need me. If you want to do this again."
He stared at her for a long time, the wind rustling his hair as he fought against his quivering lip. His fingers lifted and he gently brushed a tear from her cheek before pulling her into a shaky hug.
"I can't promise anything," he murmured, his accent soothing her nerves. "But if you don't tell Phineas...I can try."
The sun blazed through the windows, the warmth filtered by the curtains draped across the panes. Dust mites flitted through the air, bouncing happily in the rays of sun.
She stood in the doorway to the room, her fingers clenching the doorknob so tightly that her knuckles had become white with the effort. Her eyes were filled with tears and she pushed the dark hair from her eyes.
He stood in front of her, his eyes downcast as he struggled into his shirt, hiding the fresh cuts that littered his stomach and chest, kicking the rust colored razor into the never ending pile of confusion under his bed. He had promised Candace...but about his legs. There were loopholes.
He reached anxiously for his pants, and she stopped him with a gentle hand to his wrist, her eyes never straying from his.
Neither was embarrassed at the show of skin; they had known each other since their toddler years. It was the amount of cuts, the amount of scars, the fact that they were fresh that led her to stare.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers and she stared at him in sadness, her face laced with questions but her delicate blue eyes showing the deepest of sympathies. She released his hand long enough for him to slide into the rest of his wardrobe and then pulled him into a gentle, tender hug.
"Don't. Please don't. I'm so sorry if I ever…if I ever made you feel that…"
He hushed her with a gentle kiss to her forehead, a brotherly manor that had been established since entering their early teens. "You didn't," he finally lied, not meeting her gaze out of fear that she would call him out on it.
She didn't relent, forcing him to look her in the eye. Her resolve crumpled as she read the truth in them and she burst into a flood of tears, sinking to the floor and feeling nothing but hatred for herself.
He knelt next to her, an obviously painful task as his face screwed up in agony. He rested a hand on her shoulder and kept her calm as he spoke.
"It wasn't just you. I promise. It was me, how I felt. Don't feel this way," he begged her, his eyes pleading with her and saying what he couldn't with his words. He had never been good at speaking.
She stared up at him, brushing the tears from her cheeks and reveling in this 13 year old, one she had known for years. How had she never seen, never known? How could she have let him fall this way?
He nodded towards the door. "Phineas is waiting for us," he finally said, causing her to remember why she had come up here in the first place. He lifted her easily to her feet and she stopped him at the door.
"Promise me," she whispered, her eyes filled to brimming.
His eyebrow lifted in response and she took a deep breath. "Promise me you'll tell me….if I'm hurting you, or if you want to do this again. I don't want to lose you. I won't tell Phineas if you don't want me to. But you're my best friend."
He gave a thin smile and tilted his head at her, which appeared to please her. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and pulled him down the stairs.
She only said it because she was dating his brother. She didn't mean it. They never did.
It was the tallest in town; the one most easily identified.
It would be ironic, really, if he jumped from it, if only because of its shape.
He knew that it was probably illegal to be up here; the owner of the building would most likely fine him. Well, he would if he was able to. After tonight's events, that would be a physical impossibility.
He shivered in the chill night air but slid out of his jacket, folding it neatly and taking care to put it on the edge of the balcony, along with the note he had taken the time to scrawl together on the bus ride over here. He didn't want the man to be confused and just throw everything away without reading it.
His fingers gripped the edge of the balcony and he pulled himself up, balancing on the relatively thick concrete and taking a moment to stare out into the night.
The wind was harsh, beating his body and causing his shirt to billow around him. The stars had started to become covered by low lying clouds, implying more rain later on. Good. It would make the mess easier to clean up.
He took a deep breath, the smallest hint of life sparking in his eyes and lips as the air rushed into his brain and surrounded him with comfort.
His eyes shut lightly and he smiled thinly, wondering if maybe he'd get forgiveness for this, for the things he had done. No one here needed him anymore; maybe he was needed elsewhere.
Dark blue eyes flicked open and stared down at the street below him, silent at this time of the morning. It wouldn't be busy until much later, and by then, he could only hope that whoever found him wasn't a child. He didn't want to hurt anyone else.
"Hey….hey kid."
His mental voice said shit and he tilted his head ever so slightly in the voice's direction, noting the strange accent with which the owner spoke.
"Don't worry," he said softly, surprising himself at how calm he sounded. "I won't impose on you any longer."
His foot moved forward slightly and the man behind him jumped quickly, darting over to the balcony and placing the lightest of hands on his chest. "No, no," the gentlemen said quickly, his brown eyes filled with concern. He ran his other hand through his scruffy brown hair and straightened his dark purple bathrobe.
"Come on, kid. I know what you're doing up here," he whispered anxiously. "Please…I've been in your situation. You can't jump though. Please."
He stared the man down for a long time before finally climbing back onto the balcony. The older gentleman relaxed visibly and draped a gentle hand on the boy's back, handing him his sweatshirt.
"I'm not uh…I'm not the heaviest sleeper," he said by way of explanation. "My nemesis keeps me a bit paranoid."
The boy's eyebrows raised ever so slightly at the mention of this man's so called "nemesis," but he didn't respond. This was acceptable, as the nervous German sounding adult continued rambling.
"Do you want me to make you coffee? Or tea? Or I might have some cookies left in the cupboard from my daughter's last sleepover. You could have some of those."
He didn't respond to the man's prompts, merely leaned against the wall and leaned over, scratching lightly at the cuts littering his legs. He didn't hide the lower ones now, merely telling Phineas they were from their many adventures.
The man noticed these cuts and his face filled with sadness. "Kid. You can't do this. Your parents, your family and friends…they love you."
"Loved," he hissed, brushing light green hair from where it hung in his eyes. "They've moved on. They lie. I don't matter. I never did."
The adult raised the slightest eyebrow but said nothing, sitting down in a chair with a water bottle in hand. He knew from personal experience that if he interrupted, the boy would stop talking. And that was the last thing the sleepy pharmacist wanted.
"It was never 'Let's go play with the Flynn-Fletcher brothers!' Always 'Let's go see what Phineas is doing!' Always 'Oh, Phineas is soooo cute.' Never 'Ferb is pretty good looking.'"
The boy, who the man assumed was Ferb, paced the room, flinging his jacket onto the table and wringing his hands, his eyes brimming with tears. "They never wanted to see what both of us were doing. I was never first, not even with our sister or platypus or supposed 'best friend.' My parents are oblivious as my fucking brother, and I have talent, I know I have talent! But it never gets recognized!"
The green haired child whirled on the aged doctor, his eyes raging. "I won't take it anymore," he hissed, his voice surprisingly quiet. "Thanks for everything sir, but I'm sorry."
His hands fumbled for his jacket and he was out the door of the apartment before the scientist could stop him. The man scrambled for his cell phone and dialed a number rapidly, his heart pounding in his chest.
There was a click at the other end and a soft chatter, and the doctor ran for his balcony, looking over the edge in time to see the boy go running from the building towards the river. "You have to stop him," the man gasped into the phone, waking the figure at the other end up fairly quickly.
"I think his name is Ferb, and he has green hair and please….Perry the Platypus…he's heading for the river. He's going to jump."
The dial tone rang in his ear.
Ferb sprinted for the bridge, tears ripping from his eyes and clawing at his cheeks, cuts burning and reopening at the rapid movement of his body. He shed his jacket on one of the streets and fought at the lump in his throat.
He was tired. So tired. Of everything. It was time for him to be done.
His shoes skidded violently on the concrete and he launched himself over the safety rail so that he was standing, no barriers in front of him, over the river, raging from the rain they had obtained earlier that day.
His lower lip trembled violently as he tore the note from his pants pocket and his hands shook as he stuck it to the railing, wrapping a rubber band around it so that it would stay in place.
Sobs shook his body and he lifted his eyes to the disappearing stars, taking several deep breaths before he was finally able to relax.
Calm. Stoic. That was who Ferb Fletcher was. Not panicked or rushing. That was Phineas.
Ferb smiled thinly and saluted the stars, brushing away the tears from his cheeks. The boy glanced over the edge and took a deep breath.
A soft chatter, overwhelmed with terror.
Filled with disbelief, Ferb looked back over his shoulder. To his amazement, his platypus stood there, eyes steely and intelligent, a fedora low on his head and his hand outstretched over the railing, his face pleading with the boy in front of him.
Ferb gulped slightly and glanced back behind him. Another chatter, this one more panicked, and he looked back at Perry.
Tears welled up in the animal's dark hazel eyes and his bill quivered as he reached out farther, anxious to keep him from jumping.
The Brit bit his lip and stared quietly, finally finding the courage to speak. "Does Phineas….?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered, but Perry understood and shook his head, his body quivering from the force of his sobs. The platypus met his boys gaze.
His bill formed the word "promise," and his eyes said that he meant it.
Ferb reached out and took his hand.
I just...wow. This...I don't know.
Sorry guys...
Review?