Prisoner of Metal and Flesh

by maniac's maniac

I'm free of that man, but why... Why do I still feel like property of him? I am grateful to Phineas and Ferb for all that they have done for me, but how could I still be part of their family? It's simple. I can't. Not anymore. 2nd Dimension fic.

4. When I was Here Last

art 4: When I Was Here Last...

(A/N: Heh, would you look at that. Four parts already, especially since this was originally supposed to be a one-shot. Over ten thousand words and I still have at least two more parts to go... I'm impressed with myself, truthfully... I think that this is the longest thing I've ever written! Well, I have a WIP for another P&F fic, but it's a page shorter! Well, let's get this train wreck moving!

Oh, and also, I thought I'd warn you... I have some... urrr... how to put this nicely... what some would consider... torture... and stuff... in this chapter. So... just be on your guard...)

I landed on the empty driveway of the Flynn-Fletcher household. I gazed up at the house and realized that it had been a long time since I was alone on this property. How many years had it been? Three? Four? Still, a very long time.

I stepped onto the front porch, raking my brain, trying to remember any of the hidden entrances into my former lair. I could only remember one. I opened the front door which, to my surprise, was unlocked. I guessed that either they forgot to lock it, or that there was nothing worth protecting in the house to keep it locked up. As I stepped into the dead silent house I thought that it must've been the latter.

I crept into the hallway, closing the door behind me. It was so peaceful in here. All that could be heard was the ticking of clocks, and the occasional drip from the kitchen faucet. I relished in the stillness of the house for a moment before reminding myself that people could be showing up at any moment, disrupting this peace.

I padded into the living room, and over to the couch. Well actually, not so much to the couch, but the family portrait set above it. Setting the picture aside, I examined the wall behind it. The wall was smooth, and looked like any other wall in the house, at first glance that is. I examined the wall closer, and sure enough, there it was, a thin line. Touching the line, I followed the slender cut in the wallpaper down, and eventually touched a small indentation in the wall. The indent curved into a circle, with the line as its diameter.

Replacing my forefinger with a scalpel-like blade, I cut away the wallpaper covering what I remembered as an entrance to the base below this house. Once I tore away the paper I saw a metal plate that was cut into two pieces down the middle, set into the wall. In past times this would open automatically to let whoever was using it, but it didn't appear to be working anymore. I dug my fingers into the line and managed to separate the two halves, forcing them into the wall. However, once I made the opening large enough to fit through, I did not see a hole stretching into the wall, but several boards of plywood crudely nailed into the circular opening. I paused for a moment, wondering where these boards came from, who nailed them there, and why. I wrenched the boards from their places in the wall, and finally got the results I was looking for. A dark hole extended before me, going into the wall a small ways before arching down into the darkness of the underground.

Having no reason for leaving evidence behind, I pushed the boards and torn wallpaper into the hole, before crawling into it myself. Just as I was about to slip down into the tube, I grabbed the portrait and tried my best to hang it back onto the wall.

I slid down the pipe where it quickly consumed me in darkness. A familiar feeling of skidding overcame me with each and every twist and turn of my descent. I quickly noticed that the tubes were shaky, unstable, and in some places, rough. In more than one spot on the ride, I truly felt glad that my bottom was made of metal now, and could not feel pieces the broken pieces of the tube, or small segments that were disjointed as I slid over them. Every once in a while light shown into the tube and I could catch a glimpse of the mines that ran under the city. The mines actually served more than one purpose when they were running. Not only were they used for collecting raw materials, but they also aided in the finding, capture, and disposal of any and all O.W.C.A. agents. As I plummeted down, through the pipes, I began to remember the last time I had used this entrance. It was one of the last times I truly did anything as 'Perry.'

As I came to a clean landing I began to remember the last day I was truly free.

.~.

It was a warm summer day, just like any other day in July. I had been called into my lair by my superior, Major Monogram. I used that exact same entrance, and sat down to listen to the Major's debriefing. However, I wasn't paying attention. I already knew what my mission would be. Ever since I had been assigned a nemesis, my missions always ended up being the same, "stop Doofenschmirtz."

.~.

I walked off of the landing and looked around at the deserted lair. It was almost exactly as I remembered it. All of the devices were still arranged beside the walls, leaving the floor open. The most prominent thing the room was a large screen and the chair placed into the floor before it. The screen was now cracked with age, and dust lay heavy throughout room.

Looking up at the screen, I remembered Monogram's face on it. Perhaps, if I had paid attention to what he said on that day I would have expected the army of robots waiting for me there. Perhaps, I would have never lost to that man. Perhaps, I would have never gone through the accident that should have killed me. Perhaps, I never would have become a cyborg. I closed my eyes and remembered that day.

.~.

That man grinned harshly at me, satisfied with his trap before going on to explain his plan. When he turned his back to me, I managed to wiggle my way out of the trap. The moment after he revealed the entirety of his plan, I tried to attack him, but he turned back around and ordered his Normbots to stop me. I fought against them valiantly for so long, but there were so many of them, and only one of me. I couldn't hold out against them forever, and I didn't realize how close I was to the balcony. They drove me back, and before I knew it, I was standing on the edge, right in between an army of robots and a drop that meant certain death. I tried to keep my ground, I really did. They were too strong, there were too many, I didn't know how to fight against them, and I had reached my limit. I finally came to the realization that it was either destroy these robots, or bust. I had one final stand, and took five or six robots with me, but that wasn't nearly enough.

One robot's punch knocked me over the edge. I had been stunned by the hit for only a second, but it was a second that I didn't have. I plummeted to the ground, hoping that I wouldn't hit anyone at the bottom. I would have deployed a parachute, but that man did the smart thing, and took it from me as well as anything else that I could have used against him.

I was flying. I was weightless. Nothing could rob me of that freedom. With those last few seconds I hoped that the other O.W.C.A. members would be able to defeat that man for me. I knew that it wouldn't have been too hard. The 'Normbots' as he called them, were big, clumsy, and uncoordinated. While there were a lot of them, they could not work together, that man had a hard time controlling them, and as long as he was the sole leader of them, he wouldn't be able to defeat the O.W.C.A. After all, dictators haven't willingly gone onto the front line in a long time. That is why they have generals. That man stood no chance, being alone, at the top. I smiled. It was the last true, honest smile of Perry the Platypus. As long as I knew that man would not win, I could die in peace.

However, I had one, heavy regret. I never got the chance to truly protect Phineas and Ferb. I hoped that they would be happy with whatever they would do when I was gone. I hoped that whoever would replace me in the Flynn-Fletcher family would treat them well. It was a shame they never did find out about the secret me.

I hit the ground and felt no more. I must have died that day. No... I did die that day. There was no doubt about it. And yet, somehow, I was brought back to life. I was reborn, so to say.

.~.

The moment that I opened my eyes, I knew that I didn't belong. I was supposed to be dead, but I was still breathing. I didn't know how it was possible. Actually, I didn't truly know anything. I could remember nothing. Not a single face, not a single word spoken to me, not even my name. As I heard voices around me talk excitedly, I tried to remember something, anything. I could remember a feeling of falling, but other than that there wasn't anything.

"Now, let me see my patient," a voice cut through the rest of the noise, almost as if it was resonating within my own head. I tried to sit up, but I found that I couldn't move, then again there was no reason to. A man leaned over me. Black lab coat, messy brown hair, and an eyepatch over his left eye completed his strange appearance. "Can you hear me, Perry the Platypus?"

Looking up at this man I nodded, at least I could still move my head. I didn't know what it was, but this man felt familiar, while at the same time, he made me feel on edge.

"Can you sit up?" he asked me.

I shook my head. Who was this man?

"Okay, now give me a second," the man moved out of my field of vision for a minute before saying, "and there! Good as new!"

I felt something connect, and I found that I could move. I sat up and looked at the man. I had so many questions to ask him, but when I opened my mouth, not a single word came out, only a strange growling sound.

Nevertheless, the man responded. "What is it? Oh, you're probably wondering where you are and what's going on. Well, you see, after you had that little 'accident' the other day I brought you back here, to my lab. I wanted to conduct an experiment to save your life. And, as you can tell, it was a success! Just look at yourself!" He pointed to a mirror in the room.

What I saw in it was... unnatural. A strange combination of metal and flesh stared back at me. Was this me? I approached the glass. The figure inside it perfectly matched my movements. I stared at it. It stared back. I blinked my right eye, it blinked its left. A strange feeling worked its way through me, and I hated it. How could this be me? What was I? As I stared deeper into the mirror, a single word came into the forefront of my mind to describe the image I saw... 'prisoner.'

With disregard to what may happen next, I punched the glass. It shattered, distorting my reflection. I drew my hand back, and punched the looking glass again, and again, and again, I noticed a red liquid starting to splatter across the mirror, and I knew that it was blood. My blood. I didn't care. I punched again and again until...

"Stop that right now!" The man ordered.

I paused, and I couldn't explain why. I wanted to destroy all traces of that image. Why was I stopping for that man?

"Now, Perry the Platypus, look at what you did to my mirror. I'll have to replace it. I know that you may be upset about being forced to work for your nemesis and all, but..."

What? Forced? Nemesis? What was he talking about? I looked at the man with a confused glare. Who was he? What was I before he had done this, whatever it was, to me?

"What? You're confused?" The man asked, reading my expression.

Rolling my eyes, I nodded.

"About the nemesis thing?"

I nodded again.

He squinted at me for a long moment, his brain processing this new information. "Do... Do you remember me, at all?"

I tried to think for a second, but my memory was still a blank slate. I shook my head.

He blinked in surprise. Then a harsh smile etched its way across his face. "You have amnesia, eh? Well, I'm Heinz Doofenschmirtz, soon to be the ruler of the entire Tri-State area! And you are my loyal servant, Perry the Platyborg. You see, you had a little... incident the other day, and I had to make you... well... how you are now. Congratulations on staying alive. You are the world's first platypus cyborg."

I processed the data in my head for a few minutes, letting my brain absorb this new information. I couldn't think of any other reason to be here at the moment. Something in my head told me to respect, to honor this man. I deeply bowed to him and waited for his orders.

The man had an expression of confusion, mixed with slight pride, and possibly embarrassment, for a moment before saying, "now, there's no need to bow. How about you salute me instead."

.~.

I opened my eyes and looked up at the dead screen, now back in the present. I stepped into the center of the room as a thick layer of dust fled from my presence. It was so much like how I remembered it. It was so dark in here, yet some gossamer light still illuminated from some of the devices. It was perfect. Dead silent, dark, but not so that I would go blind, and empty. I was about to curl up on the floor when I noticed something glint on the ground next to me.

I bent down and picked up a small object from amidst the layers of dust. I tried my best to wipe it clean, squinting to see what it was. It was a trinket on some kind of leather band. It was almost like a... like a... I came to a sudden and horrible realization of what it was. It was a dog collar. I blew more dirt off of the trinket and tried to see if I could find writing on it, and sure enough, it wrote, 'Pinky.'

My mind was flooded with images and memories. How could this be? How did this get here? But I knew exactly why and how. I despaired at the collar, and let the images of the past flood my mind.

.~.

It was another beautiful summer day, the likes of which made my eyes... well... eye sting in protest. We had already taken the Tri-State area. The bureaucrats had given up the moment we to threatened wage war, possibly even genocide against the citizens of the city. We weren't bluffing either. We were well prepared to murder every last citizen on the streets if they dared to resist our authority. It was pitiful, really, watching them be so afraid of us. It was almost amusing, how they just gave up and let us take over.

The United States, of course, had a problem with that. However, we told them that if they did declare war on us, they would be going against an army that the world had never seen the likes of. We told them that we had an army of robots that were better armed and suited for battle than any normal human could ever be, an army what never had to sleep or eat, an army that wouldn't stop for anything until their master's orders were answered, an army that could be easily be rebuilt and reprogrammed as long as we could find the materials to make them, an army that was not entirely alive.

We knew that if they declared war on us, we would eventually loose, but how many soldiers would be killed over such a small piece of land? We weren't entirely sure either, but we knew that it wouldn't be good, for the United States at least. After I had kindly crushed Mr. Robins' legs, they let us have the Tri-State area, as long as we stayed within our borders. We thought that was fair enough. It was a deal.

Now that the Tri-State area was ours, that man had assigned me a very important task: to locate and eliminate all O.W.C.A. agents. At the time, I knew very little about this agency. I knew that they were a secret organization what worked for the U.S. government, and that it had been a thorn in that man's side for a long time, until his nemesis was eliminated. I also knew that these agents were constantly undercover to such an extent that not even their family would know their true identity. After tireless work, I discovered that there was a high probability that an agent lived on Maple Drive. I figured that after all that work, it was reasonable enough to go down there and see for myself how accurate I was. Plus, if I was correct in my findings, I wanted to know who we were up against.

From the moment I arrived at the street something felt oddly... familiar. I had the feeling that I had been here before. I turned to one house on the street and something felt very nostalgic about it. It had not yet been modified to that man's designs, and was painted a sunny yellow. The grass in the front yard was lush and green, and a large tree could be seen in the back. I felt something when I looked at that house. Something in the back of my mind said, 'home.' Such nonsense. I had no home. My home was wherever that man was. Something that felt like a memory almost tried to flicker into existence in an abandoned part of my mind. I looked away from the house, fearing what would come to be.

I looked at the house directly across the street from it. 'This is the one,' a different something told me from the back of my mind.

I came up to the door and forced it open. I could hear voices in what I presumed to be the kitchen.

"What was that?" an oddly familiar, female voice asked.

"Go hide in the cupboard," another female voice advised. This voice had a rather heavy, but understandable, mexican accent. It told the other person, "I'll see what it is."

A considerably tanned woman walked out of the warmly lit doorway and into the antechamber. Her eyes spread wide in terror at my presence. "Who... What are you?" she asked.

I pulled out some papers that man gave me in order to explain my purpose for being there. They read something to the effect of, 'To the residents of the Tri-State area, if you are reading this, you are suspected of harboring a secret agent on your property. This is my loyal servant, General Platyborg, I sent him here to dispose of this pest for you. If you are indeed harboring a secret agent in your household, you will not be held accountable for owning them, for you probably didn't know their true identity yourself. I have given General Platyborg permission to search your home as much as he pleases, but he shouldn't get in the way, and you can keep continuing your daily activities. However, if you resist, he's free to give you any punishment he deems necessary. This also implies for any other illegal activities you may be partaking in. Signed, your supreme leader, Heinz Doofenschmirtz.'

"I see," she responded after reading the letter. A nervous smile spread across her lips. "You are welcome to look through our house to your heart's content, Mr. Platyborg. I hope you'll find everything in perfect order." From her expression, I could easily tell that she was hiding something, but was too afraid of the consequences to refuse.

I gave the room a quick scan. Nothing too out of the ordinary. It looked like any other suburban house outside of that man's territory. I wandered from the front room to the living room without a single suspicious sight. If there was an agent here, they were good at hiding their tracks. No... I knew for certain. There absolutely had to be an agent here. I kept wandering and found myself in the kitchen. This house was so incredibly normal, it was almost maddening. Normal table, with normal counters, normal walls covered with ordinary wall paper, to match the normal floors. That was when I noticed it, the dog bowl pushed into the corner. I examined it closely. It was pink and read 'Pinky' across the front. Something almost popped into my head, again, like a memory. There was something about this bowl... this name...

"Mamá?" a small voice asked.

Turning my hand into a mace, I rotated myself to see who's voice it was, expecting an attack. Instead, I got a startled little girl with raven black hair, who could not have been any older than nine.

"It's okay, Isa. We have a guest at our house. He's with our new leader, Doofenschmirtz. His papers say that he's called General Platyborg, and that he's here to find some people that may have stowed away," the woman tried to comfort the child.

"General Platyborg?" the little girl wondered out loud.

I nodded, transforming my mace hand back into a normal hand, and offered it out to shake.

She took it and stared on in bewilderment. She looked curiously at me in such an innocent, wide eyed manner that I could almost smile, but I had work to do.

Just then something chimed into my memory. The girl was smiling, almost dreamily. She strolled over the grass to someone with hearts in her eyes.

The thought blinked out of my mind just as quickly as it had gotten there in the first place.

"Platyborg..." she muttered to herself before looking up to me and saying, "so, you're a cyborg platypus?"

I nodded.

She examined me closer, and I started to feel uncomfortable. "Perry?"

It was my turn for my eye to grow wide in shock. How could she possibly know my actual name? It was the same name that man called me when I first woke up in his lab. It was the name that man kept using on me although I wasn't sure it was mine.

She let in a gasp of air. "It is..." she almost whispered to herself.

By this time the woman had also recognized me.

"Oh, God. What did Doofenschmirtz do to you?" the girl uttered, swearing to my surprise.

I was confused. Why would these people know who I was? How could they still recognize me? How could they, unless... unless. Of course. They had to be secret agents. They were the enemy. That is how they could know. At least, that's what I thought at the time.

I wasn't going to let them escape. I decided to attack the woman first seeing as she was the more prominent threat. I easily managed to tackle her to the ground. Her daughter gave out a shrill scream that shook me to my bones as the mother yelled at her to run and find someplace safe to hide. I gave the girl one glance, and she remained still.

I rolled the woman until she was lying on her front. I placed one foot on her back, to keep her from moving. Then I grabbed one of her arms, and slowly started to pull it up, twisting her arm unnaturally above her head. I was going to force any information she may have out of her. It didn't matter to me wether she was willing to give or not.

Just before I gave her any permanent damage, I felt a shock coarse through my body. I was knocked down, onto my back for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, Agent P, but it was for your own good," a cracked, male voice spoke.

I felt someone grab me, but I gained enough strength to throw that person off of me and half way across the room. I looked up at my newest opponent. It was a boy... no he was a bit too old to be considered a boy. It was a man with curly red hair, thick rimmed, purple glasses, and a set of braces on his teeth.

Regaining his composure, he pulled out a device that looked like a gun and fired it at me. It shot a brilliant ray of yellow tinged light that paralyzed me temporarily on impact.

Who was this man? As if in response, a memory flickered into my mind. This stranger was standing next to another man with black hair and a military uniform, the initials 'M.M.' were stitched on his front. The man with the black hair said, "you'll be working under me from now on. This is my assistant, Carl Karl, the intern." I opened my eyes, which I didn't realize were closed, to find this stranger... no... I was certain his name was Carl, and I knew him very well a long time ago. Carl was charging at me.

It was all too simple to use Carl's momentum against him, and flip him over my head. He collapsed onto his front. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was part of the O.W.C.A. Under no conditions was he to be spared, but I highly doubted that this man acted on his own behalf. Judging from the reactions of the family living at this residence, they did not know this man. The two ladies, confused, were cowering in the corner. The mother was shielding her daughter with her body. They were quivering in fear. They had no relation to this man whatsoever, and yet he was protecting them. It was very admirable of him to risk his life for complete strangers, but I still thought that he wasn't acting on his own accord. Undoubtably, if I held him captive, and alive for long enough, they would come to collect him. Then again, I did not have the time nor the initiative to take him to prison.

I placed one foot on the back of his neck, so it would be clear that if he resisted I would break him, leaving him paralyzed at the best. I pulled up one of his arms, but I had no intention of doing to this man what I was going to do to that woman. Instead, I held his wrist with one hand and elbow with the other, and then I started to bend. Carl gave out a scream of pain as the bone started to give way to my influence. I could almost feel the structure fracture from the tension I was applying to it. After a few minutes of yelling from all three of the people, the bone finally broke with a satisfying snap. Carl shrieked in agony, quivering like a leaf all over. I could tell that he was crying. I repeated the steps with the upper half of his arm and the entirety of his other arm. I was going to do the same to his legs when something curious happened.

A dog randomly strolled into the kitchen. I blinked in confusion for a moment before thinking, whatever, so what if there was one more to the audience, it was only a dog after all, a chihuahua at that. It was then when I saw something in its eyes. I had a double take, and indeed there was something in that dog's eyes. It was intelligence. I took the segment of the arm I had just broken, and bent it the opposite direction I had snapped it in, then forced it back. With each action the dog's face looked racked in pain, with sympathy. How curious.

"Don't, Agent P! It's what he wants. Don't do it," Carl begged from under my foot.

What was he talking about? I didn't need to hold down this man's neck any longer, so I used my foot to kick him onto his back. I looked from the dog back to Carl. Could they possibly be aquatinted? With a cruel smile on my face I stomped on his chest. I could feel some of his ribs break from under the weight making a few satisfying cracking sounds. I looked to the dog who flinched quite obviously. So what if it was intelligent, and not some drooling companion? What was he going to do about it? I gave the man another stomp, more bones breaking.

I was going to continue this until the man either died, or I had no more ribs to break, at which point I would go to cripple his legs. I found it miraculous that he had lasted this long. He was still alive, had the will to talk, and to resist. He kept muttering pleading words in between his screams. I was lifting my foot for a third time when something... someone knocked me over.

I jumped back onto my feet to see the dog standing on two legs. He took an attack ready position before pulling out a dark brown fedora and throwing it on. I quirked my head to the side. How curious. So, this was the secret agent I was sent out to kill.

(A/N: I feel like I should apologize to you all about the kind of violence I have in this chapter. If you would continue reading this story I would be truly grateful to you all, but sadly it gets a bit worse before getting better...

Oh... and would you look at that... I have to split what I thought I could fit in one chapter into two separate parts... Well, the good news is that it won't take nearly a month for the next chapter to come out!

Please read, and review my story! I really want to hear what you have to say, good and bad!)