AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry about the long wait guys. School's been keeping me busy. I will be posting the last chapters to this story tonight, including the first for PnF: Sick Streak and the next chapter for DP: Gaining Trust. If you guys want descriptions for the Phineas and Ferb stories, go check out my dA page, okie doke? Time is tight for me now that i'm in art school XD

Enjoy this chapter. It made me smile to write it.


It was nearing two thirty in the afternoon. So far, Phineas had been able to spend it in his room, and without pulling out his sketchbook.

Not once.

Perry did not seem the least bit pleased about it. Several times that day, he had pulled out the book or even handed Phineas the backscratcher the boy had made for him. But Phineas only pushed the objects away or told Perry to stop going through his things. By two o'clock, Perry had given up and was now lying on the boy's bed, wondering why he had to have a week off while Doofenshmirtz recovered from his hospitalization.

Phineas was busy playing another level on the game he and Ferb had beaten numerous times already when there came a knock on his bedroom door. Without looking up, Phineas groaned and tossed his game aside. "I'm fifteen, Mom," he called out, leaning his head against the window and staring over the yard. "Just because I stay in my room, it doesn't mean that I need you to check up on me every five minutes. I can't go anywhere…"

There was silence before another knock was heard. Phineas shut his eyes tightly. "Mom, I said I was fine!" he shouted. "Leave me alone!"

"I'm not Mom, Pinhead."

Phineas opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows before turning his head quickly. Standing in the doorway with the door wide open, was Candace, his nineteen-year-old sister. The young woman was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and her long, red hair tied in a loose but neat ponytail. She grinned weakly and raised an eyebrow.

Phineas blinked several times before finally speaking. "Candace?" he said. "What are you doing here?"

His sister shrugged. "Apparently, my baby brother is having a teenage crisis," she replied. "Which would be normal, if my brother was a normal kid. But he's not. He's an inventor, who's been doing crazy things every single day of his life. So that makes it a problem." Candace straightened out and nodded into the hallway. "I felt like going to get some icecream at the park before they close it up for the season," she said. "Wanna join me?"


The park in autumn was the most beautiful place Phineas had ever imagined to exist in Danville. Even when everything was decorated for Christmas, it could never measure up to the amount of colors Nature dished out. All the trees were red, orange or yellow; only a few were still green. Ducks and geese drifted over the water, quacking or honking at each other about the yearly route they would need to take.

There were no children at that time of day, playing in the park, since they were all in school; which left a giant emptiness where Phineas had always believed to hear laughter and shouts. He, Ferb, Isabella and other children had grown up playing in the leaves in the park. It felt odd to be there when children were in school.

The fifteen-year-old waited patiently on a park bench while his sister bought two icecream cones from the small shop that sat in the park. It had been a favourite place of theirs since they had been children. According to the Flynns, it was the best place to get ice cream in the entire tri-state area.

The sun was out and warming his skin, but Phineas tightened his striped scarf and stuck his hands in his pockets nonetheless. While he was warm on the outside, he was still cold on the inside.

Approaching footsteps caught his attention and he looked up in time to see Candace stop before him. She held out a two-scoop cone of striped orange and black ice cream while keeping a one-scoop cone of a beige coloured ice cream nearest to her.

Phineas pulled his hands out of his pockets and stood up.

"Two-scoop Tiger for you," Candace announced as her brother took the ice cream, "And one-scoop Cookie Dough for me. Bon appétit."

As they began licking their cones, they turned and strolled down the path that led around the giant pond. "Every time we went to get ice cream," Candace added, "You always asked Dad to get you Tiger. Always. It was never something else." She smiled and looked at Phineas. "Remember how he used to take us here every Friday after I was back from school? He'd get you Tiger, get me Cookie Dough, and then he'd ask for Raspberry."

"If I recall, you always asked for the same flavour too," Phineas pointed out with a grin.

"At least I've tried different kinds."

"So have I… I just like Tiger the most."

"And you wanted to have three scoops, just like Dad. But he wouldn't get you that much because your stomach thought before your brain did."

Phineas laughed softly before licking his ice cream again. "Was not, I just wanted to be like him, that's all," he said.

"You do realize that three scoops was too much ice cream for a two-year-old, right?" Candace pointed out.

"I had a wild imagination, remember?"

"Not wild; manic."

They both laughed for a moment or two before falling silent again. It was not often that Candace found herself spending this much time alone with only Phineas. Normally, he and Ferb were constantly together, plotting out a new creation, or else Candace would find them too annoying to bother hanging out with. But when she finally had a chance to be alone with her biological brother, she found herself relishing the moment. And her role as a big sister became more relevant.

The nineteen-year-old turned her head and looked at her brother. "Mom told me what's been going on lately," she said, although Phineas did not raise his head and look at her. "She told me that you were there when they pulled Ferb out of the wreckage." She licked her ice cream again. "Ferb's a tough guy, Phineas. He made it through the surgery, and his concussion is beginning to heal. I thought Mom told you that he'd be back on two feet before the month is up?"

"She… and Dad mentioned something like that," Phineas replied quietly. He licked his ice cream before continuing. "But it's not just the fact that Ferb's in the hospital that's bugging me anymore, Candace. It's a lot more complicating—!"

"Like Dad's accident complicating?"

Phineas almost flinched at the words. He sighed heavily and stared sadly at his feet. "Yeah," he replied. He bit into the ice cream, sucked on it in his mouth and then spoke again. "I… had a dream about that night, last night," he announced. "You know… when the cops came at the door and—!"

"—I remember, Phineas, you don't need to remind me," Candace replied, although her voice was soft. "I'm surprised you remember that much. You were only two."

"At first, I couldn't remember much. But the more these days have been passing by, the more I found that I did remember a lot. I remember them telling us what happened; I remember you and Mom crying; I remember the funeral, the messy garage piling up with junk that Mom never had time to throw out—!"

"Which ended up being a good thing for you and Ferb," Candace pointed out.

"I… yeah…" Phineas paused here before continuing. His voice was heavy. "And I… remember that bedtime story that stopped being told…" He swallowed the last of his ice cream, along with the cone, and then stuffed the napkin into his jean pocket. "I can still remember how he started every single story, every night…" He held out his hands before him dramatically. "'Once upon a time, there was an inventor named Phineas Flynn, who came up with the biggest idea ever…'" He put his arms down and stared at the ground sadly. "It was the part of bedtime that I looked forward to every night. He made his job seem so much cooler than people said it was." He held up his hands as though holding something small. "And when he gave me Perry for Christmas that one year! He had actually gotten me a pet platypus! He said that he had been bought illegally by a hunter, and he saved him, and brought him home just for me! So I asked if we could include him in the stories…"

Candace stared at him in shock. "Wow, you do remember a lot," she said in awe.

Phineas dropped his arms again. "But that's what's been bothering me," he moaned. "It's all the good stuff that I can remember. I just…" He shook his head as tears filled his eyes. "When I saw them pull Ferb out of that car, I totally freaked out. I just can't imagine a car accident and hospital being good together. I mean, look what happened to…" His voice choked as he raised his sleeve and wiped his eyes. "… Look what it did to Dad," he squeaked.

Candace was beginning to wonder if her mother had asked too big of a favour from her. This was the very first time she had seen Phineas break down this badly. He hardly, if ever, got this scared about something. What was she supposed to say to turn things around?

There were a few picnic tables coming up. With a determined frown, Candace grabbed Phineas' arm and pulled him towards the nearest one. She sat him down and took a seat across from him. "Phineas, I'm going to tell you this straight off the bat right now," she said sternly. "Ferb is not going to die. The accident he was in was nowhere near as bad as the one Dad was in. So, the car flipped; Ferb just got a concussion, a broken leg and a fractured wrist." Candace held up her hands in front of Phineas' face while frowning even more. "If I was to tell you how many injuries Dad had, you would have nightmares for weeks, Phineas. I couldn't get over that list for that long. Consider yourself lucky you can't remember that, and consider yourself lucky that Dad decided not to take you along with him. Because if he did, that semi-truck would have killed you instantly."

Phineas almost cowered in fear. He attempted to hide part of his face between his raised shoulders.

Candace stared at him in silence before sighing and passing a hand over her face. "Phin, Ferb will be back on his feet by Halloween, for Pete's sake," she said. "Though honestly, what you remember about the two accidents is not what's concerning me right now…" She pointed at her brother. "It's your depression that's freaking me out."

Phineas remained silent as Candace's stern expressions melted away. Concern replaced it. "Phineas, you're too dang positive to be depressed!" she exclaimed. "You're that geeky ten-year-old who built a roller coaster across Danville! You're that brilliant kid who fixed a time machine and traveled through time twice! You're that child prodigy who learned how to speak full sentences by the age of three, and you were already an artist!" She held out her index finger and pushed down against Phineas' chest. "YOU. ARE. TOO. HAPPY. TO. BE. SAD. The only time I ever heard you yell at anyone was when I refused to ride that dorky little tricycle back when we had traveled around the world! That's the only time I heard you snap!

"And you know what's more? Mom told me that you've stopped inventing things! You haven't been getting up a six in the morning and designing these nerdy little doodads to help out around the house or something! You haven't even been drawing in that sketchbook!" Candace frowned again and pressed her finger against Phineas' forehead. "Did you lose one too many marbles when you saw them pull Ferb out of that car? You can't stop inventing things because our brother's in the hospital, Phineas Flynn! YOU JUST CAN'T!"

Phineas flinched every time his sister laid her finger on him. He was even more startled when she told him strictly not to stop inventing. When her finger was pulled away, he placed his hands on his cheeks and his elbows on the table's surface. "Candace, I'm scared out of my mind," he pointed out. "Car accidents scare me, and now that Ferb's been part of one, nothing will ever be the same again…"

"True, nothing will be," Candace agreed. "But it doesn't mean that you need to treat things like the world is going to end." Worry filled her eyes again as she grabbed her brother's hands and held them. "Phineas, Ferb is going to survive. You need to push Dad's accident aside and consider Ferb's to be a whole new thing. It's not the same. He's going to come home. He'll be back on his two feet, and what's better…" She smiled pitifully. "You two are going to be inventing like you've never invented before, all over again. You'll be doing the same crazy and impossible stunts you did when you were ten years old. It's okay to be scared for Ferb's sake, Phin, but don't let it control you."

Candace pulled her hands away from Phineas' and traced circles on the table. "Remember how Dad used to drag in all these old pieces of junk he found in the streets after work?" she said. "It drove Mom mad. She hated it that he came home with garbage. But Dad said that it wasn't garbage; it was something old and he was going to make it into something new."

She looked at Phineas again. "You're a lot like him, Phineas. The way you talk, the way you think, the way you can design and build those contraptions that drove me completely bonkers through high school. You get excited about every little thing that's new, and about every little idea you come up with. You always say, 'Hey, Ferb! I know what we're gonna do today!' at least once a day. And you say it with so much eagerness, it's impossible for anyone not to be the least bit curious. Even me, while I was trying to bust you, I couldn't help but get curious about what idea you had in mind. That's Dad, right there in the package.

"Dad's death was hard on all of us, Phineas. And after hearing what Mom said you've been up to, I know how hard Ferb's accident has been on you. You're scared stiff of losing someone else who meant the world to you. Dad was your role model, your hero; I've known it for years. At the age of two, you made it clear that you were going to be an inventor. Just like Dad. You wanted to build things out of nothing. Dad's toolboxes, his gadgets in the basement, all the contraptions he built for us, they made your eyes shine. And his little Tinker box, the one he kept all of his favourite parts and tools in; you would go bonkers whenever he opened it. Dad was special. Dad was the guy you wanted to be when you grew up.

"I can totally understand that Ferb's accident freaked you out, Phineas. Ferb's been your best friend since he moved in with us. You two have been together since Mom and Dad—uh, our second dad—got married. You guys were breaking my toys and putting them back together again in better combinations. You had found the guy you wanted to work with. You had found the guy who was interested in the same things as you were, and didn't think you were weird in the least. So when you saw your best friend and brother get pulled out of that smashed up car, I can understand how much you thought it was Dad dying all over again."

Candace placed a hand over Phineas'. The fifteen-year-old looked at it for a moment before he raised his tearful eyes and stared at his sister.

"You've got a wonderful gift, Phineas," Candace said gently. "You can make people laugh, you can make people smile, by a simple idea. You only think about helping people while making an adventure out of it. You're a tinkerer, an inventor. And the last thing I want to see before I get married in spring is my little brother giving up just because of a freak accident that didn't end up being so bad after all."

The nineteen-year-old woman leaned forward over the table while smiling. "And I really don't think Ferb would be happy to hear that you've given up on inventing, just because he's stuck in a hospital," she said. "If you think about it, Phineas, are you really enjoying not inventing anything? Are you not drawing because you don't feel like it, or are you avoiding the idea because you're afraid? And if you are afraid, what are you afraid of? And how would that really be affecting your creativity?" She tilted her head. "Are you really enjoying not opening that book, Phineas?" she repeated.

Phineas stared at her in silence for a moment before looking down at his hands again. "… No," he whispered. "In fact, not drawing is probably making me feel even more useless than I already feel."

"Then, in the words Dad used to say, 'If you've got an itching for sketching, pick up that pencil and draw!'" Candace stopped here for a moment and made a grimace while her brother laughed. "Mmmyeah, Mom was right; that did sound corny," she muttered.

"But convincing," Phineas added through a final giggle. He looked at his hands again, and his eyes grew dark once more. Sighing heavily, he said, "But I don't know what to invent. After spending so much time worrying about Ferb and then wondering why Dad didn't survive that crash, my imagination's gone rusty."

"That's impossible, especially for a kid like you, Phin," Candace replied, reaching over and rubbing her brother's head. "Though I still can't help but get teed off that Mom still doesn't believe me about all those stunts you guys pulled—and are still pulling—I know, without a doubt, that your imagination is going to be the last thing about you that goes rusty."

"But Ferb's usually the guy who builds the stuff, Candace," Phineas pointed out. "I just invent! I can't build my contraptions anywhere near as quickly or as efficiently as he can!"

"True, but you can still do it."

"But without Ferb—!"

Candace rolled her eyes. "Phineas, forget about Ferb being able to build better than you for just one second," she said. "And imagine yourself in his position. Not as a builder, but as the teenager sitting in that hospital bed as we speak."

Phineas immediately fell silent and stared at his sister, expecting her to explain.

Which she did. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but here goes," Candace sighed. Placing her hands on Phineas' shoulders, she opened her mouth: "Phineas Flynn, I'm challenging you to come up with the biggest idea you have ever come up with. And the person in mind for this project: Ferb Fletcher."

Phineas raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Stunning, I know," Candace muttered sarcastically. "But if you ask me, Phin, I don't think anything will make Ferb feel better about being stuck in that hospital than an invention that his little brother came up with on his own, just for him." She smiled warmly. "I think it'll make his day to see you invent something again, don't you?"

Her brother remained silent. For a moment, he thought about the challenge Candace was proposing. She hardly, if ever, wanted anything to do with her brothers' insane ideas, but here she was, challenging him to come up with the biggest idea he could ever come up with.

After a moment of thinking it through and rubbing his chin pensively, Phineas smiled and looked up at his sister. "I accept your challenge," he said boldly, making Candace grin even more.

Now, all he had to do was come up with the idea.