Hi there! This is the first of my collection of fanfics I'm too embarrassed to put on my main account! So yeah. I wrote it. It was fun. I don't want to delete it, but there's no way in HECK I'm letting my normal followers see it.

Disclaimer: Hahahahaha. You're funny.

Phineas has been having nightmares every night for over a month the night he wakes up from a black pit of sleep, sitting bolt upright in his bed. He doesn't know what's woken him, but he knows it's terrifying. The horror fills his brain, and something he can't see or touch clamps around his chest, so he can't get enough air. Even if his lungs could open wide enough, though, there still wouldn't be enough oxygen in his system- there's a huge lump of something in his throat, pressing against his esophagus. His stomach feels like it's full of wet cement- or bad diner food. He's shaking, shudders so intense coursing through him that his blankets slide off the mattress.

He doesn't know how long this lasts. His mind is too clouded with panic for him to pay attention to anything other than the fear coursing through him. Eventually, though, things get better.

When the clamps belted across his chest loosen enough that he can breathe again, Phineas notices that his brother is sitting next to him, Ferb's cool hand holding Phineas's sweaty one. Ferb looks so much tanner than his brother, even though just that morning their skin was the same shade of summer-just-ended tan.

The lump in his throat has shrunk enough that Phineas can turn to his brother and give him a wobbly smile before saying, "I'm all right, Ferb. Really."

Ferb doesn't say anything- unsurprisingly- but there's a worry line between his eyebrows and his mouth is pinched into a thin line.

Phineas feels his smile get stronger on his face, even though, for once, he's not actually happy behind the expression. "Go back to bed," he says softly. "I'll tell you if I need anything."

Ferb squeezes his brother's hand, then releases it and reluctantly pushes himself off the raftlike thing that is Phineas's bed, walking back to his own.

He watches Phineas lie back down and pull his blankets back where they belong. Phineas turns to the far wall. Ferb lies down and puts his arm around Perry again, and both watch Phineas's back silently. The blankets covering the redhead shake almost imperceptibly, and Ferb's eyebrows, which had almost return to normal, slide back together. He holds Perry a little tighter, but he doesn't move otherwise. His brother obviously doesn't want anyone to worry about him, and though Ferb can't help that, he can keep quiet- he's good at that.

It's decided. Ferb will keep his brother's secret- for now.

Decision made, Ferb drifts back to sleep, still watching his brother's trembling silhouette. Phineas is already back in his dark dreams. In the darkness, only Perry's eyes gleam, focused on one of the two things he cares about more than his job.

The next morning, Phineas feels fine- mostly. His stomach is the tiniest bit twisted, so he goes lighter on breakfast than he normally would, but his hands are steady and dry, and his breath comes easily. He heads to school, confident that last night was just a fluke. So what if he's a little less chipper than usual? He's allowed to have an off day every now and then.

So he smiles just as wide as he normally would in the face of the almost imperceptible crease between his brother's brows and heads off to school.

He knows what he's going to do today: he'll shake that look of Ferb's face one way or another. He's not sure how yet, but figuring it out is always the fun part.

They make it to school early- probably because Phineas hasn't spent as much time eating as usual, and meet up with their friends around Phineas's locker to talk. Baljeet is checking Buford's math homework, as usual, and Isabella is dividing her attention between the fireside girls she's texting on her cell phone (coordinating a dance of some sort- the details have slipped Phineas's mind for the moment) and the boys around her. Phineas joins in the chatter without paying much attention to what he's saying.

Ferb listens to the conversation. Normally he'd be eyeing up girls right around now- Phineas may be one of the only fifteen-year-olds in the school who has yet to notice girls, but Ferb is definitely a ladie's man (it helps that he's a good listener, as he's told Baljeet. Girls love boys who let them talk)- but today Phineas has most of his attention. He's focused enough on his brother that he sees it when his hands start to shake a bit.

Phineas wouldn't have noticed his hands if his breath hadn't caught in his throat at the same time. But in the time it takes for him to recover and pick up speaking where he left off, he sees his right hand quiver on the edge of his locker. He squeezes it tight, balling his free hand into a fist, until he feels steady again. Then he shuts the locker and turns back to his friends, smile ready for them.

Ferb catches his eye, and Phineas wants to smack himself. He's doing a bad job at getting his brother to calm down. He flashes him a reassuring smile, and they walk down the hall. Ferb knows that Phineas knows that he's unconvinced, but neither say anything.

Phineas has been waking up the same way for three nights in a row, now. He hasn't figured what's causing it, and all he's able to do is sit there, hands clutching at his pajama legs, shaking and sweating, until the mindless terror passes and he's able to think again. Ferb is always there when he comes out of it. He sits next to him on the bed in silence, and waits until Phineas gives him a shaky smile. He doesn't leave until the redhead has fallen back asleep.

Phineas is conflicted about this. On the one hand, he doesn't want his brother to to worry- doesn't want anyone to worry about him, ever- and hates that he's the reason for the crease in Ferb's forehead that hasn't gone away since this thing started. But he's also very, very glad for Ferb's presence with him. It makes things easier, and the world, which has suddenly started to seem much too big for this boy who once went around it in a day, becomes manageable again, just while Ferb is here to help it make sense.

Today, Perry is there, too, squeezed between the brothers. Phineas reaches down to pet him, and the platypus chatters. This, too, is comforting.

"Thanks," Phineas says to both of them. He takes a deep breath before saying, "I'm… I'm all right now." His smiles have gotten progressively smaller as the nights go by, but he still gives his brother the biggest one he can muster- which isn't very big.

"No," Ferb says.

"Huh?" Phineas asks, not quite following.

"You're not 'all right,'" Ferb snaps. "You haven't been 'all right' in days, and you aren't now. Please stop lying."

Phineas's smile falls off his face, and he looks down at his lap. "I know," he whispers. "It's just…"

He trails off. Perry presses in closer to his side and chatters again. Ferb squeezes his brother's shoulder.

"I just don't want you to worry," Phineas finishes.

"I'm your brother," Ferb says. "It's my job to worry about you."

Phineas's smile feels less forced as he looks back up at his best friend. It's still small, but it's real. "Sorry," he says.

Ferb pats his shoulder, then moves to get up.

Phineas grabs his arm. "Stay?" he says. "For tonight?"

Ferb looks at his brother, then down at the bed, which isn't very large. Then he looks back at Phineas's face. This is the first time Phineas has admitted he needs Ferb's help with this. The first time he's admitted he's not okay, that he can't deal with this all on his own. So even though Ferb's big, firm bed is calling to him, he lies down next to his brother.

Perry lies between them, and if it weren't for how bouncy Phineas's bed is, Ferb almost wouldn't be able to feel him shake.