Hello, everybody! I come bearing good news! I've had a massive sprint with this story this week and ended up writing three whole chapters! Woo hoo! That means you won't have to wait too long for an update. REVIEW, and you just may get one sooner than you'd think ;)

Special shout out to Riya Morut, who has left exceptionally beneficial and encouraging reviews for this story. As a thanks, this chapter goes to her!

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

Fairy Troubles

Despite the Lady of the Lake's suggestion that they rest, their night at Lake Avalos had been incredibly productive. Phineas had brewed several potions—though, given how strange the plants were in this sacred place, he wasn't entirely positive they would do what he intended for them to do.

So far, the alchemist had an inventory of three smoke bombs, four elixirs to knock people out like they had at the well in Alveo, and two potions to turn their subject into a toad. He'd worked hard to render the final two potions impermanent, but the ingredients he had to work with were so weird. He could only hope he'd adjusted them correctly.

Phineas hadn't had a lot of time to experiment—not as long as he would have liked, at least. The further he ventured into Lake Avalos, the more curious and bewildered he became. There were trees with sparkling orange vines, beds of dark flowers that dripped some purple liquid, and thick patches of small leafy bushes with shimmery, veined blue leaves. Nestled in these bushes were bight green berries.

He'd been so intrigued by those little bushes that he plucked a handful of berries, wrapped them in some of the leaves, and packed them in his satchel. He figured he could ask one of the sprites about them later. He plucked a few more of the blue leaves. They had a cool, pleasant feel to them. He moved them from hand to hand as he made his way back to the main clearing. He always had to keep his hands busy.

Isabel was already in the clearing, surrounded by wingless sprites. She'd made herself scarce the night before, though Phineas reckoned she'd had a lot she had to try to come to grips with. As Phineas approached, he noted six sprites perched on Isabel's legs, all talking over each other. The next thing he noticed was Isabel's face. Her cheeks were burning with a fierce blush.

When the group of sprites on her legs saw him, they stopped talking. One with long black hair nudged another with glasses. The sprite in the middle stood and stared up at him. She had brown hair reaching her shoulders and bright green eyes.

"So…" she drawled, shooting a smirk in Isabel's direction, "Are you Ferb?"

"Adyssa!" Isabel squeaked, and Phineas grinned.

"No, that's my brother. My name's Phineas."

Before the sprites could have any reaction, Isabel spoke. "Phineas, this is Gretchen, Katilda, Adyssa, Gingrelle, Millinda, and Hollivere. They were my friends before—um, well, years ago. We collected pollen and combed the woods together. I suppose you could say we were sort of like a troop."

Phineas greeted the sprites again before turning his attention back to Isabel. "You ready to go?"

Isabel swallowed. Then she smiled and nodded. That left only one member of their party.

Ferb had had a busy night, too. After he took Excaliferb, the Lady of the Lake disappeared. Before he could catch up with Isabel and Phineas, though, the Lady of the Puddle rose from the water. If he thought her mere presence was surprising, there were no words for when she drifted to the lake's edge and stepped out of the water. She walked toward him—two legs replacing the column of liquid that usually met her waist. Her dress looked to be fluid, each step rippling even though it was made of cloth. She was honestly one of the most beautiful women Ferb had ever seen.

When she approached, she still looked like she was floating. When she was close, she held out her hand. Ferb stood there, stunned and awestruck for a second, before reaching out and taking it. The second their fingers met, dozens of images filled his mind: a figure holding a sword, movement, flashes like shadows on the back of his eyelids. When Vanessa let go, the images stopped and Ferb was slammed with a wave of vertigo.

Though the images weren't flashing through his mind, the information stuck with him. He found himself swinging his sword once, twice. He moved as if to parry, then jabbed—just as he'd seen in the images Vanessa had shown him. He moved into a defensive stance, then swung the blade out in a fierce arc. The sword felt less awkward in his hand.

"Now your movements will be as fluid as water," the Lady of the Puddle told him. And in case all of that wasn't surprising enough, Vanessa lifted her hand, and a water figure of a man rose in front of her, holding what appeared to be an icy blade.

Ferb spent a better portion of the night with the practice dummy, Vanessa calling out corrections to his form whenever he messed up. It wouldn't completely prepare him for a real fight; the watery man was too graceful, and undulated too often. Real men fought with more force than his practice opponent. But Ferb walked away from it with the comfort that he had a chance of holding his own. At the very least, he was less likely to accidentally impale himself with his own sword.

He'd been so tired after training for mark after mark that he fell asleep right at the lake's edge, under the watchful eye of the Lady of the Puddle. When he awoke, Vanessa was still there. Ferb was sore from using his muscles in new ways, but she healed that with one touch. They didn't say goodbye. Vanessa had already given him her blessing long ago, and saying goodbye made things a little too final. All he got was a sad sort of smile. All he gave was a nod. Then he left to find his brother and best friend.

Maybe it was silly, but he expected something to be different when he met up with Phineas and Isabel. It had all come together. Phineas was prepped with potions and itching for an adventure. Isabel knew of her real nature as a magic wielding force of prophecy. And he, Ferb, held Excaliferb and knew he could use it. It probably should have been some great and glorious moment, where he raised his sword and gave some speech, a crowd of poor, wingless sprites cheering their champions on—but it wasn't.

Instead, it was fairly ordinary. Phineas grinned at Ferb with his usual grin. Isabel smiled a sad half-smile—one that let him know she hadn't yet come to grips with all she had learned, but was trying to be upbeat anyway. They departed without many words spoken, like they'd been three cogs in the same clock all their lives. They didn't need to emphasize the importance of the moment. They knew.

A few marks into their journey, Ferb realized the lack of decorum when they left Lake Avalos was appropriate. Building up their journey would have been anticlimactic; here they were, on a road again. Walking. Despite the vague threat of immanent doom, absolutely nothing was happening. They were questing, sure, but the farther they went, the more Ferb knew that "questing" was just a morale-boosting way of saying schlepping through the woods for an ungodly amount of time.

Phineas kept things light. He kept them moving. Thankfully for Ferb, he hadn't poked fun at his relationship with Isabel like he had the day before. Something about all that they learned was sobering on that topic.

Ferb had expected the Lady of the Lake to make Isabel small again. In an odd way, he was even counting on it; he was relying on it to alleviate this growing tension. Granted, if he were being honest, he'd have to admit the tension had been there for years, way before the spell mishap, but a human-sized Isabel did nothing to help.

Not to mention she was a fairy.

But restating that made it no less true, nor any more believable. Best not to rehash these things, he figured. They kept moving.

It took a little while for Ferb to realize that Isabel was walking better today. Come to think of it, they all seemed to be standing a little taller, their heads held higher and their resolve a little stronger. Ferb was maybe starting to understand why Lake Avalos was largely forbidden to people; only one night, and something about it seemed to have seeped into their bones, changing them.

"You're walking so much better today," Phineas said, beaming at Isabel. "You haven't tripped once. You even look… stronger."

Ferb almost laughed. Really, sometimes it was difficult to believe that he and Phineas shared no blood between them. So often, they were of one mind.

"Feel stronger," Isabel agreed. "I don't know if it was just being around the Lady of the Lake, or maybe I'm just adjusting to my size… I don't know."

"It's not just you," Ferb said. His hand played with the hilt of his sword, which was strapped in a sheath on his belt. "I don't even really feel the extra weight from Excaliferb."

Ferb thought the journey should have been impossible, what with the giant bounty promised to any thug that managed to find them. Not to mention the fact that they were making a beeline for Kaigate, Rogerick's hometown. All common logic said they probably should have been stampeded and run through already.

Instead, they just kept trekking along. They'd learned from their last encounter with Southern and his increased horde of goons; they were sticking off the main road. Instead, they ventured through the forestry. They were close enough to follow the general path, but anyone along the road wouldn't spot them. Not immediately, at least.

Far to their left, they heard the rattling wheels of a horse-drawn buggy, and the trio froze. Just as they had with all other sounds, they ducked behind anything they could: in this case, a tree for Ferb and a bush for Isabel. Poor Phineas had nowhere to go, so he dropped to the ground, practically hugging the dirt in his effort to become as flat as possible. As quickly as the sound approached, it was gone.

They stayed in their positions for a whole two minutes. Then Isabel giggled, "This is just getting ridiculous."

"No joke," Phineas said, pulling himself off the ground. Dirt streaked his nose. "We can't go the entire quest face-planting at every little noise. It'll take years."

Ferb shrugged in a way that said, better that than getting stabbed to death.

"I know," Phineas agreed. His hands tightened on the strap of his satchel, and Ferb knew his brother was resisting the urge to start rummaging through it. "But there has to be some better way. An invisibility potion, or—"

There was another creak, and Phineas kissed the dirt again. A rabbit hopped from a bush.

"Really?" the redhead laughed, rubbing at his nose. "Really? Invisibility potion, I'm telling you. I think we could brew one, Ferb. Eh?"

"At least this guy's friendly," Isabel said, bending down to the rabbit. If a human did that, any forest creature would scamper, but this was Isabel. The little critter drew closer, nuzzling into her outstretched hand. "Aw, you're such a fierce little one, aren't you?" she cooed.

Ferb raised his eyebrow: fierce?

Isabel shot him a playful glare before focusing on her new friend again. "Fierce. Just look, he's shaking, and he looks scared. You've been through something, haven't you?" She ran her fingers in the divots behind the rabbit's ears. "What happened, hm?"

"Wait," Phineas spluttered. He had a huge grin on his face. "You can talk to animals? Ferb, why didn't you tell me that?"

"No," she said quickly. "No, I can't, but I'm pretty good with the forest variety. This little guy wanted my attention. He wants to run, but he's sticking with me. It's kind of like a warning. Make sense?"

"Um. I guess? Ish? But hey, it makes complete sense to you, and that's so cool!" Phineas beamed. Then his face fell. "The warning part is a different story. Just how warned do we need to be?"

Ferb turned, his gaze sweeping in a wide circumference. He made a series of gestures.

"We need to keep an eye out for somewhere to sleep tonight?" Isabel asked in response. The sun beat down on them from above. "Isn't it a little early for that?"

"No, Ferb is right," Phineas said. "We just need to be aware. If we find somewhere that would actually be a safe place to sleep, we need to jump on the opportunity. We need cover. Somewhere we won't be found too easily."

They kept walking. Isabel's little bunny friend had scampered off, and they didn't see any need for concern. Isabel had wanted to believe it had just been a little skittish because of them. That would be so convenient. She liked that option.

Of course, that wasn't the case.

"We should do lunch some time!" said a voice. It wasn't close, but it was loud and strangely cheerful. The trio froze.

"What was that?" Phineas whispered. What was an odd way to form the question. It was man. It had to be; it spoke, after all. But what also felt accurate. No man's voice boomed so loudly while still resounding in its normal tenure.

"Boy, I could go for a cool glass of lemon ale," said the same dapper voice, only this time it came from somewhere on their other side.

Ferb drew his sword, looking from one cluster of trees where the first noise came from, then the other. If there were men there, the trio had been flanked. Ferb glanced down at Excaliferb. Was it the time to use it? Then Isabel's fingers slid against his free hand, entwining with his. He looked to her.

"We should run," she whispered.

Phineas was shifting through the contents of his satchel, but he managed a quiet, "I agree. If we can avoid a fight, we should." He looked around again. "Besides, I don't like the sound of those voices. Er—the sound of that voice. Singular. They're the same." He bit his lip uncertainly. "You heard the exact same voice, right?"

Well, it was two to one. Ferb nodded. They'd run. They took off, but this was a careful run. Before, when Southern's men were chasing them, they stumbled through, not caring how much sound they made so long as they got away. This time, the moved more quietly. Ferb didn't think the owner of that strange voice had spotted them. They sped through the underbrush, but he was careful to lead the other two in a path that wouldn't get them seen.

And so they ran. For the longest time, Isabel did really well. Exceptionally well, even. But after such a solid block of rushing, her legs finally collapsed. She toppled forward into Ferb, who stumbled on a stone when he turned to keep her up. Phineas, just behind them, tripped on the other two, and they all fell in a sprawl of limbs.

"Ugh, sorry," Isabel whimpered. "I'm so sorry. I—"

"It's okay," Phineas panted, dislodging his brother's elbow from his face. "It's fine. I think—we need a minute anyway."

Ferb was a little too still, and Isabel realized that was because she was on top of him. As in, pretty much right on top of him. He looked more stunned than anything, staring up at her. She pulled herself off and made herself busy dusting off her hands. Anything to not look at him. She felt her cheeks might melt.

"Hey, Isabel, neat trick with the flowers," Phineas laughed.

Isabel's eyes shot up to the redhead. "What?"

"The flowers." He was looking all around them. "This is you, right?"

She looked around. In her periphery, she saw Ferb sit up, too, following her example. Surrounding them were bushes with blossoms. They were all blooming, puffy, pink petals bursting from little bulbs.

"These are rightendales," Isabel said. "They're not supposed to bloom until the end of summer. That's when the sprites… I mean, it's too soon for them to…"

As she spoke, a dozen more flowers blossomed. She felt her cheeks heating up even more. This was her magic. And all because she'd tripped and landed on her best friend? She couldn't look at Ferb. She sprang to her feet, which wasn't the best choice since her legs still felt like straw. She wobbled a little, and reached out for the nearest tree. If Ferb made the connection, he didn't let on, which she was thankful for.

"We should keep moving," she spluttered. Phineas groaned, but Ferb nodded.

"Slower pace this time?" Phineas sighed. He didn't have to twist anyone's arm; they were all feeling the fatigue from their marks of travel. Ferb and Isabel agreed.

The redhead pulled from his satchel some of the fruit he'd gathered from Lake Avalos and passed it around. Isabel bit into a plump orange one, reveling in how sweet it was. Its juices coated her throat, and she felt so much better. Water kept them going, but this was so much more refreshing. Maybe it was just her improved attitude from her snack, but her legs felt better, too.

"I bet Mom and Dad would love these," Phineas said, popping a few small purple berries into his mouth. At first he looked happy, chewing the sweet morsels, but then his face fell. So did Ferb's. Isabel knew they must have been missing home.

Always the optimist, Phineas shook his head. He regained his smile. "Think about the pies that could be made with these, guys. Yum." He popped a bright green berry into his mouth, but spit it back into his hand immediately. "Ugh, except these ones. They're super bitter. How disappointing."

Isabel and Ferb laughed. Then Isabel looked down at the berry as Phineas tossed it away. She gasped.

"Phineas, did you get those from Lake Avalos?" She suddenly snatched the boy's shoulders, forcing him to look straight in her eyes.

"Huh?"

"They're poisonous!" she cried. Phineas stared at her, stunned, so she started shaking him. "Phineas?"

"I-I didn't actually eat it," he stuttered. "The skin had this bitter taste, so I spit it out. I didn't bite it."

All three stood there, frozen and dumbstruck. Ferb put a hand on Isabel's shoulder, two worried dark blue eyes demanding more information from her. He glanced from the fairy to his potentially poisoned brother. He felt he might get sick. Isabel shook her head, though he didn't know what that meant.

"If you'd consumed any of the poison, you'd be dead by now," Isabel said, her voice low and solemn. "It takes effect that quickly."

Phineas gulped."Er, okay… no more green berries, then." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks."

They stood for an awkward moment more. All three of their hearts were pounding. Eventually, Ferb flung his arm around his brother, which universally spoke to their relief. Their young alchemist was okay.

They kept moving along for a few marks. The sun started drooping in the sky. They hadn't heard any more strange, dapper voices or frantic woodland animals. They were tired.

"We really need to looking for somewhere to sleep," Phineas said. As if to prove his point, he heaved a big yawn.

Isabel pulled her cloak tighter around her. "And hopefully build a fire. I'm cold."

Out of habit, Ferb and she met eyes. When she was smaller, he'd just wrap her up in his handkerchief, warming her up in his hands or letting her curl up on his head. He couldn't do that now, she supposed. She remembered something Phineas had said; I'm pretty sure this new you has fried my brother's mind. Ferb didn't know how to handle her like this, magic exploding out of her and whatnot. He needed some distance from this new her.

The thought was depressing, which immediately put her on edge. If she felt sad, what would happen? Would it be something bad? Would she accidentally hurt her friends with her magic? And of course, worrying about such things only increased her negative emotions. She glanced around, looking for any sort of magical reaction. It wasn't hard to spot; the branches of the trees around her started drooping.

Phineas looked over to her. She expected him to make some comment about how she had to stop. She had to reign in whatever magic she was inflicting on the trees. Instead, he smiled, wide and toothy.

"Perfect! Nice work, Isabel."

She blinked at him. Then she blinked again. Nice work? Next to the redhead, Ferb was nodding his head, a look of approval on his face, too. Isabel looked around. They were in a small clearing, and the trees around them now drooped down enough that they actually had a decent amount of coverage. On top of that, the branches could be reached for firewood.

"It was an accident," she said.

"Well, good job," Phineas laughed. "Some of Ferb and I's best potions were happy accidents, right, bro?"

Ferb nodded.

They set off, each with their own little task. Ferb gathered branches, hacking them off with Excaliferb. The magical blade sliced through them like a knife through bread. Phineas gathered edible verdure from around their little campsite so their fruit from Lake Avalos would last longer. Isabel busied herself clearing a place for the fire, gathering a lump of dirt and surrounding it with rocks. She cleared away little places to sleep. Within ten minutes, they had a pretty decent place to rest for the night.

"I'll take first watch," Ferb said.

Phineas was going to protest, but figured it was pointless to argue once his older brother had decided something. Isabel felt she should protest, but knew she just couldn't. She was exhausted, and if she took first watch, they'd all be in trouble. She knew she'd fall asleep three minutes after the boys did.

Ferb sat back against the trunk of a tree, crossing his arms. He smirked at the other two, then tilted his head toward the ground; well, you might as well sleep.

That was easy for Phineas. He scooped up a pile of leaves he'd plucked from the trees and nestled into them like a pillow. Isabel tried to follow his example, lying down. Back when she'd lived with the sprites, this was how they all slept—though a leaf was closer to a bed at her size back then. She should be comfortable with this. But she wasn't.

She glanced back over her shoulder and met Ferb's gaze. It was awkward. He looked so… uncertain. What was she supposed to expect? Everything was so different now. She saw nothing inviting in his expression—it was too resigned, guarded. She curled up again, swallowing down the liquid threatening to make its way up to her eyes. She waited a few minutes. Nothing changed.

"I have no clue… how to do this." She let out a small laugh, sad and pitiful.

Phineas yawned. "Aw, sleeping on the ground isn't that bad. You just have to try to get as much rest as possible and make the most out of it."

"I wasn't really talking about…" She sighed, letting her voice fizzle out. She really tried not to, but she looked back to Ferb again.

Sleeping on the ground wasn't what was difficult. She was used to sleeping in unorthodox places—a shoulder, on a head, in the middle of a palm. She knew how to sleep on the ground. She didn't know how to sleep so… alone.

What was pathetic was that she knew Ferb was reading her every thought like a book. She knew he knew exactly what she was talking about. He knew everything.

Isabel tore her gaze from his and twisted around, letting her hair sweep down in a curtain to hide her face. After a deep breath, she curled up on the ground, pulling her cloak tighter around her. She was met with the smell of dirt and leaves. They were comforting things, but her eyes still stung.

She didn't know what possessed her to say it, but she found herself muttering, "I won't exactly fit in your palm anymore," to the boy behind her.

"Ooooh…" Phineas drawled in front of her, his gaze shooting past her to Ferb. Isabel almost smiled. She could picture the candle flickering to light in his brain. "Oh, yeah, I guess this must be pretty weird for you, huh? Bet you're used to sleeping in a shirt pocket, or something."

"Or something," she sighed, but she wouldn't push it further. She could practically feel Ferb's gaze pressing against the back of her head, and she curled up more. He'd been so distant since Vanessa's spell backfired. It was terrible, but she figured it would be selfish to feel she was the only one entitled to disorientation with all the changes. She didn't want any more questions, though. "Night, guys."

That was good enough for Phineas. He stretched once, muttered a response, and went down for the night. If it wasn't good enough for Ferb, he didn't say. He remained unmoved, silently beginning his job of first watch.

Try as she might, sleep didn't come for Isabel. She lied there for an entire mark, unmoving. She devoured the sight of the glow from the fire flickering against the trees. The light lapped and lunged, curling around knobs in the bark before jumping back up. She felt the heat against her back. The smell of smoking wood filled her lungs.

The way the shadows moved made her think of the mist that seemed to cling to them through their quest. She loved it. She really did—but it wasn't enough to keep another tear from trickling down her cheek. She wasn't sniffling. She wasn't even breathing heavily. She just watched the echo of the fire's light and let her eyes burn with her roiling emotions.

Behind her, Ferb sighed. "You still haven't fallen asleep yet, have you."

It wasn't a question. Isabel wasn't going to answer. She inhaled slowly, trying to feign sleep.

"Thought not," he chuckled. He didn't say anything else.

It was ridiculous, but she felt she owed him an explanation. "It's been seven years since I've slept in the woods." Her voice gave a good imitation of the crackling fire, soft and faltering. He remained silent, and she swallowed hard. "Seven years since I've slept without…"

She pressed her eyes closed. She wanted to go to sleep. Right then. But that was too convenient. The silence was unbearable—not just now, but ever since she'd woken up without wings.

"How'd you know I was awake?" she asked.

He didn't talk again, but this silence was different. She heard him shift uncomfortably. She knew he was apprehensive about answering this time, rather than just choosing not to. She pulled her knees closer to her chest.

"Ferb?"

"You were… kind of killing the plants."

She was… oh. Right. Because she was apparently the only living fairy in the kingdom, and had strange, powerful magic coursing inside of her, waiting to leak or explode from her on a whim. How could she forget something so entirely ridiculous? And now she was killing the plants around her because she felt weepy? She had to control her emotions!

She had to control them.

Control them!

The fire flickered behind her, once and bright, before dimming to an eerie glow. The trees she'd been staring at were barely lit now. That wasn't control. She wasn't in control. She was just a sprite who was never a sprite with strong magic that should have slowly matured with her. Now it raged beyond her ability.

"I'm so scared, Ferb," she admitted. She felt her spirit sinking down into the ground. The whole clearing must have been dead by then, and it was her fault. "I don't know how to handle this. I can't walk straight, men are after us, I have crazy magic, and—you. I can tell something's bothering you."

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. He was leaning against the base of a tree, his arms crossed and a reproachful look on his face. It seemed to say, you shouldn't worry about me.

"But I do worry," she sighed, lying back down. "I'll always worry, Ferb. You've barely spoken to me since what happened with the Lady of the Puddle. And it's not like I can even blame you. I'm a walking disaster—or falling disaster, more like it. I can't control… this." She held her hands up, curling her fingers closed. "This magic. I'm putting your brother in danger, and I can't even control my emotions enough to suppress it."

She heard him shift behind her, but she couldn't stop the words from tumbling from her mouth.

"My birth, my life, my abilities, my history—why I never fit in, why I got sent on the quest, why Excaliferb broke, why I was banished—everything has been a lie. I have no idea who I am. And I'll just have to get past that; I can't change this. I'll have to suck it up, I know, but I can't help but feel like I lost so much. I feel like I lost everything, Ferb. I lost myself."

The fire sparked into blackness. Everything went dark. He still hadn't said a word.

She knotted her arms around her legs. Her voice was a shaky whisper, attempting to commit suicide like the flames. "I can't lose you, too. I just… can't."

Ferb watched her, his heart growing heavier with each word. All the plants were mulch. Charred chunks of wood let off streamers of smoke where the fire used to be. Even seven years ago, when she was sobbing her eyes out as she first told him how she was banished, did she sound this broken.

She needed him to say anything, and she needed it right now. He knew what he wanted to tell her. She was wrong. She was absolutely wrong, because she wasn't a disaster, or a burden, or lost. She most certainly would never lose him, even if he had been unsure of how to handle her the past couple days. She was amazing. But he didn't know how to tell her any of that. So he didn't.

He looked down at his lap. He felt so guilty. He knew he should say something, but he had no words. They had never been his specialty. But even if he couldn't think of anything to say, he figured he could at least do something, right?

He peeled himself from his spot against the tree and scooted over to his best friend. She heard him and peeked up at him over her shoulder, her eyes confused. He offered a small half-smile before he took her arm, gently tugging on it until she fell out of her knotted embrace. He easily hoisted her up into a sitting position, pulling her with him as he returned to his spot from before. He leaned back against the tree again, Isabel now at his side.

Sure, he definitely couldn't hold her in his palm anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't hold her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, unnerved by how aware of his own heartbeat the action made him. He took one calming breath, then pulled her closer until her cheek was pressed against his shoulder. She stiffened, probably just as uncertain about all of this as he was, but after a moment, she relaxed. She shifted, stretching her legs out and snuggling into his chest, even closer than before. A minute passed, and she yawned. Her hand drifted up, her fingers finding a hold on the fabric of his shirt.

Neither of them said another word. Her breathing slowed into a soft, even pace. He pulled her cloak back over her legs before finding a comfortable spot for his hand to rest along her side. She sighed in her sleep, and he almost smiled.

It was all so weird. He didn't know what to make of it. He hadn't expected Isabel to stay this size. He hadn't expected it in the slightest, and it caught him completely off guard. He was still feeling unnerved, unmoored from everything he knew about a relationship he'd fostered so attentively for eight years. So much had changed in an instant.

It was all so perfect, and all so very, very dangerous. Not just the quest itself: it was dangerous in other ways. He already felt himself slipping, getting attached to ideas and reactions and possibilities that they just couldn't afford. Things that would be gone in an instant once they defeated Malifishmirtz.

It was ironic, Ferb realized. Putting an end to the physical danger that threatened them and the kingdom would bring about emotional danger—having Isabel turn back into a tiny fairy. He couldn't allow himself to become too attached to Isabel in this temporary form, to let himself get used to her curled up on him, or tripping into him, or taking his hand. A small voice inside of him whispered, too late. And that was a problem. It scared him, he realized. There were so many ways he could lose her.

But Ferb shook his head. He couldn't let himself succumb to those kinds of thoughts. His brother was counting on him just as much as the girl in his arms, and he couldn't let them down. He refused to let them down.

Heaving out a sigh of his own, he returned to his job of scoping the trees.

Gee, I wonder what that voice was? What was stalking the woods? Next chapter, our trio just might have to find out the hard way.

And darling Ferb! Part of me just wants to scream, "ACCEPT THAT YOU LOVE HER ALREADY AND MAKE A FREAKING MOVE!" And yet… why rob the story of deliciously awkward and painful attempts to get to that point? Regardless, hopefully this little end scene, though not much, tickles my shippers pink! Or, at the very least, some odd variation of salmon. Marf.

Please review and let me know how you're feeling/doing/thinking/being! See you next time!

~Lilly-Belle