Hey, guys! Sorry about how long it took to update this ;P I've been busy

So, this chapter, you get a little section from Dennis' POV I:} See how he views things

I DO NOT OWN PHINEAS AND FERB. ANY CHARACTER YOU DO NOT RECOGNIZE IS PROBABLY MINE

(Michael's POV)

For the next couple hours, Michael just laid silently on his cot. Dennis whistled awkwardly the whole time. "You want to watch more on the camera? I hear the Eiffel Tower is surprisingly entertaining."

Michael shook his head. "I'm gonna be a brother," he murmured yet again.

"Kid, that is the twentieth time you have muttered that. I get the picture."

"Sorry," Michael apologized sheepishly.

"How are you feeling?" Dennis grinned. "Apart from the obvious shock."

"I don't know," Michael admitted. "I guess I'm happy for them."

"But..."

"But I guess I just got used to being an only child. The special one, I suppose," Michael thought out loud.

"Yeah, but you're not on their side. Don't you think they wanted another child; one on their side?"

"Are you saying it was planned? That can't be the case, you saw Dad's face."

Dennis shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he knew about the camera and feigned it in case someone was watching."

"Well, of course he knew about the camera. I wouldn't be surprised if he installed it," Michael sighed. "Dad just...hasn't struck me as someone like that."

But is Dennis right? Michael wondered that night as he tried to fall asleep. Was I not good enough for my parents, so my sibling was actually planned?

Michael shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Well, I can't blame them if that was the case. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

(Perry's POV)

The next couple weeks passed by quickly, and it was beginning to show on Pixie.

Only about another week, Perry thought.

He and Pixie were sitting on their bed; Pixie was talking, Perry was listening. "I wonder if it'll be a boy or a girl," Pixie murmured.

She turned to Perry, who shrugged, his mind focused on something else. Pixie scooted a bit closer to her mate. "What is it?"

Perry sighed. "It's Pinky. I just can't stop thinking about him." Pinky was one of the unlucky fifty percent of O.W.C.A. that Michael had poisoned, and one of Perry's best friends.

"Then go check on him. I'm sure Katrina will let you in by now." Pixie's amber eyes glittered with sympathy.

"Pixie, I-I don't know how I feel about you leaving the house right now..." There you go being overprotective again, Perry scolded himself.

Pixie shrugged. "I could stay here; you could go."

"I don't know... Are you sure you'd be alright?"

Pixie nodded. "I wouldn't be alone," she grinned.

"Okay," Perry inhaled. "Remember, don't stay in any room by yourself for a long period of time."

"I know!" Pixie snapped, her mood changing in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, she realized her reaction, and burst into tears. "I'm sorry."

Perry hugged his mate. "So am I. This must be hard for you." Michael's in jail with DENNIS of all people, and Pixie's not allowed to be by herself for more than five minutes.

Pixie sat back up and inhaled deeply, calming down.

"I'll go on and check on Pinky. If I'm not allowed to see him, I'll be back soon." Perry kissed his mate on the cheek and took a path down to his lair, where he grabbed his scooter and drove toward O.W.C.A's HQ.

(...)

Katrina was sitting at her desk when Perry walked in her office. She looked up and smiled at Perry. "You probably want to see Pinky, don't you, darling?"

Perry nodded, and Katrina stood up and unlocked the door to the second room. "There you go. Try not to stay in there too long, he still needs his rest."

Perry smiled his thanks and stepped through the doorway; Katrina closed the door behind him.

Pinky was lying on the bed. He wasn't as sickly white as he was a couple weeks before, but he still was obviously ill. The chihuahua spotted Perry and grinned, sitting up.

"How are you feeling?" Perry asked his friend anxiously.

"Not the best..." Pinky began. "But comparing how I'm doing now to how I was a couple weeks ago...near death...doing great!"

Perry chuckled and shook his head. "You nearly died, and, somehow, you're as perky as ever."

"Years of practice."

Perry's smile vanished as a new thought struck him. "My son nearly killed you."

"Aw, Perry, don't think that way," Pinky responded. "Besides, I'm honestly not sure that Michael would have poisoned me if he knew we were close friends."

"What?"

"Alright, maybe he would've at first," Pinky admitted. "But, lately, when I saw him here, he seemed different. Kinder. Plus," Pinky added, "Michael seemed hesitant to poison any of us."

"Really?" Perry felt his hopes lift a bit higher.

Pinky nodded. "And, if it helps, the last thing I heard before going unconscious was 'I'm sorry.' The poor kid doesn't seem to know 'what's hot and what's not' anymore. He's not on either side, he's just confused."

"I know," Perry sighed. "It might be a bit easier to reach out to Michael if he didn't have his mother's stubbornness."

Pinky grinned. "How's Pixie doing?"

"As well as can be expected," Perry replied. "But she's been doing a bit better since we found out she's pregnant."

Pinky's eyes widened and he laughed. "That's great! Congratulations!"

"Thanks."

"What was Michael's reaction?"

Perry hesitated a moment before replying. "We haven't told him."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"A little over two weeks ago," Perry admitted. "I just don't feel comfortable leaving Pixie right now, and there's no way I'm letting her go to the O.W.C.A-Traz while she's pregnant."

"That makes sense." Pinky was silent for a moment. "How's Isabella?"

Perry smiled. "She's worried about you, of course, but other than that she's fine."

The two friends chatted for another ten to fifteen minutes, then Katrina came in. "Alright, Perry, darling, you'll have to leave now. Pinky needs his rest."

"Okay, bye." Perry waved to his friend and walked out of Katrina's office.

(Michael's POV)

The hours turned into days and the days turned into weeks. No one came to visit Michael, except the guards who brought in breakfast. Dennis occasionally asked Michael if he wanted to watch the security cameras in his parents' house. The platypus always said "No."

Dennis was very stubborn. However, instead of trying to convince Michael to watch with him, the rabbit made loud, obnoxious, comments on what he was watching. "Goodness, she's gotten big." Michael was fairly confident that Dennis was commenting on Pixie with that sentence.

That was a few weeks ago. Michael had officially been in the O.W.C.A-Traz over a month.

Finally, Dennis cornered Michael on the topic the platypus had been trying to avoid. "It's been, like, six weeks, and your parents haven't visited you. Why is that?"

"They're probably busy. And," Michael reminded, "Mom's pregnant."

"Was," Dennis corrected, sitting down and picking his teeth with a toothpick.

"What?"

"Kid, I've done my research on platypi. Your mother probably laid the egg, say, three weeks ago."

"And then there was the incubation period," Michael pointed out.

"Two weeks long, tops," Dennis immediately counteracted, tossing his pick on the floor. "Which leaves at least a whole week she could've visited. Plus, your father could have stopped by any time."

Michael sighed, and Dennis continued. "Has it dawned on you that maybe they're picking favorites?"

"Excuse me?" Michael inquired, his tone making it obvious he wasn't trying to be polite.

Dennis leaned forward. "They've got another child," he sneered. "I wouldn't be surprised if they've forgotten about you."

Michael laughed nervously, and, thus, forcefully. "Come on, there's no way they've just...forgotten about me."

"In a little over a month? With another child? Who they can raise on their side? Why go through all that trouble with you anymore?"

"Be quiet," Michael growled.

Dennis didn't. In fact, he continued. Michael tried to block out Dennis' comments, but Dennis was just raising his voice more and more.

Finally, Michael just couldn't take it anymore. "Just shut UP!" he screamed, shoving the rabbit, who had stood up and walked closer to Michael, back onto his cot.

Michael flopped onto his own cot on his stomach, buried his head in his arms, and began crying. Dennis wasn't right. There was no way he was. Do Mom and Dad really not care for me anymore? Michael realized he didn't know the answer, which just made him cry more.

(Dennis' POV)

Dennis watched Michael silently, inwardly scolding himself. Nice going. You've got to keep up your "friendship" with Perry's son. Otherwise the plan he had been working on for over a month, well, more specifically, six weeks, would completely fall apart.

Luckily, Dennis thought of a save. He waited until Michael had calmed down a bit, then spoke up. "Sorry, kid," Dennis apologized, not an ounce of sincerity in his veins, "I didn't realize how much I was bothering you."

Michael didn't look at Dennis, and Dennis smirked, thinking of a way he could subtly add a bit more doubt to the kid's thoughts. "I didn't think it would, because I thought you didn't care about what they thought at all." He gasped, hoping it actually sounded shocked. "DO you care for your parents, even though they abandoned you?"

"Y-you don't know they did." Dennis heard Michael's voice crack. "There's no proof."

"But there's no proof they didn't, either. What do you think, kid?"

"I don't know," Michael murmured softly. "I used to believe they did, but then I started getting to know them. They missed me, wanted me back."

"I couldn't help but notice you're talking in past tense there, Worm-Breath."

(Michael's POV)

Great, I've earned a nickname for life, Michael thought sarcastically.

Dennis continued, not noticing Michael's facial expression. "Are you worried they're picking favorites, like I was saying?"

Michael turned back to face the wall again and closed his eyes. He didn't know the answer, and he didn't want to answer it. But what DO I think?

Poor Michael : ( : ( : ( His sudden outburst at Dennis was basically, well, his mother's feistiness off its hinges. And Michael is also still fairly young :P But that scene was SO MCUH FUN!

Anyway, do YOU think Perry and Pixie are picking favorites?