Vanessa is just becoming aware that her dream has a soundtrack identical to her ringtone (a song by the Scraping Fangs); she then wakes up and grabs her phone. She answers it sleepily without checking the caller ID.
It's her father. He's FREAKING OUT. It takes her a while to comprehend what the hell he's babbling about, but she realizes that he's crying—and that freaks her out. Finally, she gets a simple statement out of him that illuminates the situation: "I killed him."
Vanessa's outside at the curb, pacing back and forth. She checks her phone: no alerts. She punches in another text message to Johnny.
"Are you sure he's dead?" He says he's with the body, that he can't find any life signs.
She checks her phone again. Nothing. She calls Johnny and gets his voicemail. She hangs up without leaving a message.
She asks what happened. "We were fighting, you know, like nemeses. Just like always."
She checks her phone again. Nothing. She brings up Johnny's number again... then hits END. She's looking around in a vague desperate way, half-hoping that a taxi might stray into the neighborhood.
She says she'll get over as soon as she can. He says her mother won't understand—she tells him not to worry about Mom, she'll catch a ride with a friend. His lucidity is decreasing again. She tries to reassure him.
Inspiration suddenly strikes. She digs through her hastily-packed bag; at the bottom, crumpled in the corner, is a piece of paper with a phone number. She smoothes it out and dials the number.
"Hi, uh... It's Vanessa. Sorry—I know it's late—but... I really need to get to my dad's."
Three minutes later, a green-haired boy shimmers into being beside her at the curb. She jumps and stares at him; he holds up his phone and says "Transporter app."
Vanessa shrugs off her surprise and casually asks:
"So, what took you so long?"
"I couldn't very well pick you up in my pajamas," replies Ferb.
He takes her hand and speaks into the phone: "Go to Vanessa's father."
They shimmer away.
Vanessa is trying to explain to Norm that, no, it is not a good thing that her father wasn't defeated in this latest battle. Norm is just not getting the idea; he's not really programmed to. She'd settle for him just SHUTTING UP... but he's not really programmed for that, either.
Her father has locked himself in the bathroom. Vanessa doesn't have the energy to talk him out and silence Norm. She glances over her shoulder toward Ferb, who has covered the body with a sheet and is kneeling beside it in a posture of grief. She doesn't want to ask anything more of him right now.
"Would you just turn off?" she snaps at Norm.
"I can't reach the switch!" says Norm in his cheerful fifties voice. "It's in the middle of my back!"
There's a heavy metallic clonggg. Norm abruptly shuts down. Vanessa steps around him and sees a chunk of miscellaneous hardware embedded in Norm's OFF-switch. She looks toward Ferb, who lowers his throwing arm.
He looks at her with an expression she never expected to see on his face: anger.
"Why?" he demands of her.
She looks at the sheet draped over the little limp body, and she doesn't have an answer.
Vanessa is watching her father through a one-way mirror. She wants to be in there with him. She wants to be a million miles away from him. She wants... anything but this moment.
She can't hear him. She just watches him, looks at the hunch of his back, the trembling of his hands and mouth as he speaks to his interrogator.
All at once it becomes too much to bear. She rushes blindly from the observation room, then stops short.
There's Ferb. He sees her but avoids her eyes. He continues giving his statement to the detective.
"...which allows the user to travel instantaneously to the person or place specified."
She hovers between the two scenes, the extremes of pain and guilt. Then she goes back to her father. He's being brought out in cuffs. She hugs him for as long as she can.
"I know you didn't mean to," she tells him. He has a haunted look in his eyes as he is led away.
She trails off toward Ferb. He's now alone, seated with his spine ramrod-straight. He looks sidelong at her as she slowly approaches.
"Are your parents coming?"
He nods. A long silence sprawls out between them.
She finds her voice again. "I know how... how hard this must be for you. None of this really makes sense."
"He was family. He was killed." Ferb's tone is lifeless. "What more is there to say?"
"It was an accident."
She regrets the words even as she says them. She can't look at his face.
"Do you have a ride home?"
The question takes her completely by surprise. "I, uh, called my mom... but she didn't pick up. It's, like, four-thirty, so she's probably still asleep."
He holds out his hand. She blinks at it—at the phone he's holding out to her.
"Oh. Oh. I get it." She takes the phone. "Thanks."
He isn't looking at her; still, she moves out of his line of sight. She doesn't want him to see her disappear.
They're holding a little service today. A surprising turnout earns the funeral a spot on TV, and much is made of the extraordinary decedent.
Vanessa is not invited. She feels a little relieved; she wouldn't know what to say to anyone there; she would not be welcome. At the same time, she feels as though she ought to pay her respects.
She's been in her room, avoiding conversation with her mother. She looks at the phone, toying with the idea of browsing Ferb's media. There's an innuendo in that somewhere, but she's in no mood to smirk at it.
She has somewhere to be, but she's not sure she wants to go back there yet.
There's nowhere else to go.
She picks up the phone.
The lab is strangely empty. They've taken most of her father's contraptions, only leaving the ones on the balcony that serve as planters. Vanessa briefly considers unplugging them. It doesn't seem worth the effort.
Norm is still there, now lying on his back. Vanessa sits on his massive arm and lets her gaze rove around the room. She idly counts the number of oversized wall sockets dotting the walls and floor. She tries to remember which "-inator" was in the corner with the elaborate water fixtures.
She waits for him.
She feels a touch at her arm. She turns, and she almost says something perfectly natural—and horrifying. She stops herself.
"It wasn't your fault," she whispers instead. "You couldn't have known he was coming here, what kind of danger he... Please, don't..."
She wraps her arms around him and tries to stop his helpless shaking.
She knows she shouldn't hear it—she wasn't there, it isn't hers to know—but she can still hear it echoing off the walls—the death sentence, the last ghost of that dreadful night.
Five words, so often repeated, now serve as epitaph.
"It was so sudden," Heinz Doofenshmirtz testifies. "We were just fighting your typical nemesis fight, and—"
"Hey, where's Perry?"
"—I was firing at him with the laser remote, and Perry the Platypus was dodging every shot—"
"Hey, Ferb, I'm gonna use the phone transporter app to find him."
"—and then, out of nowhere, this kid appears right between us."
"If I'm not back by morning, check around the house. I might be stuck under Candace's bed or on the roof or something."
"There was no time—I couldn't stop shooting—I—I'm so sorry—"
"–Oh, there you are, Perry!"