Holy crap, guys. I was going to wait. I was seriously going to wait until Sunday to update just because of all I have on my plate right now, but for that last chapter to get 37 reviews in less than 24 hours (smashing the previous record of 23 in two days) I couldn't resist. Then to have PnFanatic (welcome to my story!) go through and review every chapter up to this point?!
Guys *le tear* I'm seriously feeling the love right now!
So to thank you, I'm posting the next chapter a mere 20 hours after my last update. Like I said, you review, I respond. Enjoy, my lovelies.
Wow, that sounded creepy. Enjoy, my darlings. Much better.
Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE:
Logic
PHINEAS
This blasted music box had a spot on it that wouldn't come off! I wasn't even sure what could have caused the discolor of the metal like this, and usually I could fix it without a problem, but today I'd forgotten my miniature chemistry set at home. Now I was trying to clean it the old fashioned way: oil and cloth.
I usually wasn't forgetful, but I'd been mentally preoccupied this morning. First and foremost, I thought Ferb needed to apologize to Isabella. No matter what was going on, he shouldn't have yelled at her like he had. I made sure to let him know that with a few notes I'd placed on the kitchen counter.
'Went to work with Dad this morning so you'd have a free schedule. I'm sorry for fighting with you. Now that I've apologized, it's your turn. Go apologize to her! Meany butt. And you better do a decent job; I don't like being mad at you. –Phineas'
But then I felt bad, so I had written a second note.
'P.S. Okay, I'm not actually too mad at you, because that's really hard for me, but I do think you were a jerk yesterday! Please make this right. –Phineas'
Then, just before I walked out the door, I had been struck with another thought.
'P.P.S. If you don't go and apologize to her, I will not hesitate to build an impenetrable fortress and not talk to you this time. Do it. Today. And be nice about it, please. –Phineas'
I just hoped he listened.
Yesterday was a day of unusual. I thought it was perhaps leaking into today, too. I had a pressing sense of unease.
Yes, I was upset that Isabella lost her dog and was hurting, but I couldn't say that was it. That was only half the problem, because… I was also uneasy with my brother.
Hey, this was progress! I tried to build on that thought.
Because it wasn't just that Isabella was upset or that Ferb had been… having an off day. It was something about the two of them—in this situation—together that bothered me.
Ah, there we go. That must have been it.
I was upset because my brother and best friend had been in a fight. And when I was comforting Isabella and she was talking about Ferb like she was, that added to my unease because it sucked that they were such great friends but still were fighting. That made perfect sense.
"Phineas, someone spilled soda on the case up front. Would you be a lamb and take care of it?" I looked up from the antique in my hands to stare at a brown box towering in front of me. My father's voice came from behind it. "The paper towels are under the cash wrap."
"Sure thing," I laughed, watching him lumber off to the backroom with his giant load.
My dad had recently ventured off to a massive antique convention. He'd been the keynote speaker, talking about a medieval staff or something that had just been uncovered. He'd only been gone for a day, but he'd kicked butt at multiple auctions and came home with a heap of goods to be sorted, cleaned, priced, and put out for sale.
I enjoyed helping out. Dad and Ferb had trips to Britain from time to time, but working at the shop with him was something that tended to be more exclusively for me. Yes, it wasn't as glamorous as an international trip, but that suited me just fine. I could get excitement anywhere at anytime; I liked seeing my dad in his normal, everyday element. I jumped right to the task Dad asked of me, wiping away the mess.
If only the other mess could be cleaned so easily…
Blarg. Why did it bother me so much? I mean, I knew I was close to both of them, so of course I'd be bothered when my brother yelled at her. It was okay that I was bothered, right? It was completely justified.
So why was I so bothered that I was bothered?
Nothing was making sense right now.
"Why the long face?" Dad popped up in front of me and I jolted. I realized I'd been scrubbing the showcase a little hard.
"Ferb," I admitted, balling up my paper towel and tossing it down on the glass top. "He yelled at Isabella yesterday, sending her running away crying, and I can't understand why."
"Really? That doesn't sound at all like Ferb."
"Yeah, he was actually… mean to her. He kicked her out of our house. I don't get it."
"Did you ask him why?"
I sighed and sat down on the little stepping stool sitting by the case. "Yeah, I did, and it didn't make any sense. I couldn't understand at all, but he was still really mad when I was talking to him. He slammed the door in my face, and Isabella was so hurt. I wanted to make sure she was okay, so I left."
"I'm still having difficulty believing that Ferb would ever yell at Isabella."
"Oh yeah, it was an entire argument, but it was so… one-sided. She wasn't fighting back, and she could barely get a single word in regardless. I walked in in the middle of it, and although nothing was really said, it felt like something I wasn't supposed to hear."
"And after Isabella ran away, what explanation did your brother give for his behavior?"
"That was the confusing part. I kept asking him what was going on, and he kept telling me to leave. He kept putting me off like this was some secret—like he couldn't tell me. Then he just… exploded. He said he'd been yelling at her because he cared."
My dad's eyebrows shot up at this. "He said that?"
"Yeah! One heck of a way to show he cares! It's absolutely ridiculous." I blew out a huff of air. "I mean, it's not just me, right? This is illogical, isn't it?"
"It is. Although, there are some things that can't be explained with algorithms and formulas. You'll never understand what your brother said if you rely completely on logic because not everything is logical. Have you considered that?"
"Of course," I responded immediately. "Like magic. That can't be explained logically. But I don't think this thing with Ferb had anything to do with—"
"That's not what I was getting at, son. There are other illogical things too. Given everything that has happened with Isabella, I'm sure you've realized this."
Oh.
"You mean… like emotional stuff…"
"Exactly." Dad nodded, but I still couldn't quite make sense of it.
"So, what? Isabella somehow hurt Ferb's feelings enough to make him explode on her like that? Then continue to explode at me? I don't think that's it either. I don't think there's anything someone could do to hurt Ferb's feelings that much, let alone if that someone were Isabella."
"Well, that's not quite where I was going with that either, Phineas." My dad's expression softened. There was something there… something I was surprised with myself for picking up on.
"You know exactly what's going on, don't you?" I realized. A slow smile spread across his face, but it wasn't necessarily a happy one. It was more of an apologetic smile. I shot to my feet. "You know? What's going on? Why did Ferb act like that?"
"Whoa, Phineas—" he tried, but I couldn't stop.
"Why did he yell at her? And then at me? What did he mean when he said it was 'because he cared?' Why won't he tell me? And why… why does it seem like I'm always the last person to know?"
He put both his hands on my shoulders, a more genuine smile on his face now. "You know," he mused, "I'm not used to you being the same height as me. What happened to that little ten-year-old that used to prance about, hm?"
"What?" I blinked. That seemed totally random. I knew my dad could be a little… eclectic at times, but what did that have to do with anything?
"You know, even back then you boys were the two smartest chaps I'd ever met, and you were like that for one very specific reason."
He raised his eyebrows facetiously, knowing perfectly well that I could never refuse such bait; it went against my nature. I couldn't help but return his smile. "And why is that?"
"Because when you didn't have an answer you found a way to find one no matter what. Even if it was impossible, you found a way to figure it out."
"Is that just a good-parenting way of telling me you won't tell me?"
He smirked. "Perhaps. Or maybe it's my way of telling you that the greatest value is found in that you make yourself."
"So pretty much exactly what I said," I chuckled, shaking my head at him. "But I've tried that, Dad. I keep thinking about it, but I can't seem to make it coalesce."
"That's because it isn't an equation, my dear boy." He laughed amusedly. Then his face brightened, like he suddenly had an idea. "Remember all those old black-and-white detective movies we used to watch together?"
"Yeah…"
"Well, maybe thinking about those will help. You've been using all of these deductive reasoning skills, but maybe that won't work here. Maybe you should try some inductive reasoning."
"Inductive reasoning?"
He nodded. "The largest meanings can be found in the smallest of trifles, lad. Has anything else peculiar been going on with your brother?"
"What?"
"Is there anything else you've noticed about Ferb? Ferb, Isabella, and yourself—that whole relationship?"
Huh. That was an odd question. Although, now that he mentioned it… I suppose there was.
"Well, he's been talking a lot more lately, but I guess it's more than that." I fell silent again, trying to put all of the oddities there'd been as of late into words. "He's been… I don't know. He's been more distant—like whenever Izzy comes over now—but at the same time… not. He's also been less distant because he's been more… expressive. I don't know, Dad, it's hard to explain. That's why I'm so frustrated!"
He motioned for me to go on.
"It doesn't help me figure out anything. Sure, he keeps disappearing when Isabella comes over—off to work on some blueprints—but he's only done that since we started dating. He's been trying to give us some space, even if we didn't ask for it.
"Although, according to Isabella, he hasn't actually been working on blueprints, but just doodling random stuff." I leaned against the showcase, propping my head up on my elbow. I let out a sigh.
"That pensiveness came on rather quickly," Dad hummed, leaning with both his arms on the case.
"Well, it's odd. I'm just now realizing… Ferb and Isabella say things all the time about each other—like the blueprint thing, or when Ferb said she wanted to visit Wales, and all that stuff—that I never noticed. I feel kind of bad."
"Why would you feel bad?"
"It's just… we talk. Isabella and I talk. Ferb and I talk—you know, in that charade-y way he has. Ferb, Isabella and I talk. All day everyday, while we're working on our projects. But… for some reason lately I feel like… like I don't know enough. They say something about the other that I never even caught onto. And I'm happy they've built such a strong friendship, but…"
"But?"
I shook my head; this conversation just shifted into something else, something uncomfortable. I didn't know what to make of it.
"Phineas, if you can't have a little talk with me, father to son, then who can you talk to?"
I looked down through the glass, tracing the swirls on the cover of an old pocket watch with my eyes. He had a point.
"It… I don't know. I start to feel uncomfortable. And it's stupid, because it's something else I can't explain. But just say their names…"
I watched my dad as he did me. He blinked.
"No, really," I clarified, "say their names. Together."
Dad's eyebrows furrowed. "Ferb and Isabella?"
I nodded. There was that unease again, slinking into my stomach. "See? And at first I thought I was maybe sick, or something, but it only happens at certain times, like that."
This was making sense to someone, right?
"Phineas, I'm afraid I don't quite know what you mean."
Apparently not.
"I don't like it, Dad." I shook my head, but then thought about what I said. "Well of course I don't dislike it. I'm happy they're such close friends. I'm happy they understand each other and that they're there for each other, but… do they have to be so gosh darn good at it?"
My dad's eyes sparked with some kind of recognition. He started shaking his head.
"Phineas… Phineas, Phineas, Phineas, how did… can you really not name what you're feeling right now?"
"Unease?" Seemed as good an answer as any.
"Close. But there's another emotion that hits the nail a little better." I stared at him. He let out a small puff of exasperation. "Ferb and Isabella."
My nose crinkled. That… feeling returned. "You don't have to keep doing it, Dad."
"I'm just trying to help."
"I think I'd like some other form of help better."
He shook his head at me again, and I picked up on some strange bewilderment, like he couldn't believe me right now. I couldn't blame him; I was bewildered too.
"Okay, Phineas. What else have you noticed?"
"What else?" I wracked my brain. "I guess we had a pretty strange conversation when Baljeet was over, but it wasn't that big of a deal."
My dad looked at me inquisitively. I could practically hear the thought emanating from that head of his: largest of meanings in the smallest of trifles.
"Well…" I ventured. "It was weird. More so than usual for us. I don't even know why we were having it, but it was pretty much, if Ferb and I were after the same girl, who would get her? And I said he would because he can actually understand girls, but he said I would because I had."
My dad grabbed the glass cleaner and started wiping down the front of the showcase, but that was okay. The gears were turning in my head, and I didn't need his response right now.
Trifles. Subtleties. The little parts.
So maybe it wasn't like an equation, but it did have small parts—just like a machine. Maybe I could pick those apart.
I had.
I had gotten the girl?
I had gotten the girl?
Hmmm.
But that wasn't it. We'd veered away from Baljeet's general question of wanting to know if your friends had feelings for your girlfriend. We had made it personal. We had been talking about Isabella. Isabella specifically… so why had…
You got the girl. It was my brother's voice. The way he'd said that…
I got the girl?
Oh. Oh wow. That resonated. That was one part of the machine that clicked into place.
I got the girl.
I got Isabella.
And there was a problem with that.
Dad had been right when he said this wasn't an equation. It didn't work that way. But I could feel it tingly in the back of my brain—perhaps the start of a theory. And if not quite a theory, then at least a model. I had all the pieces, I knew I did! There was some logic to them. I just had to find it.
Maybe Ferb was worried we'd grow apart after stirring in a relationship… but this obviously wasn't centered on me. Maybe he didn't want to lose his friends to a relationship. Maybe he didn't want to lose the friend he had in Isabella to a relationship.
Or maybe he didn't want to lose the friend he had in Isabella to me…
You got the girl.
No. Maybe he didn't want to lose Isabella.
He didn't want to lose Isabella.
Oh god, that was it.
And he didn't want to lose Isabella because… because he…
Oh no. Oh, Ferb…
How could I have been so blind?
R/R please!
It was so fun to write Phineas working through it. Because he is oblivious when it comes to emotions, and he'd work through and think about it differently than other people would. He's adorable like that! Next chapter is all Ferb, so don't worry all those who were hung up on the end of last chapter!
And I know I've toyed with you guys before, but that seems like a pretty sound realization for Phineas. Granted, I like to surprise you… I suppose you shall see, shan't you? XD
I seriously love you guys. It's like a have a posse of virtual friends! (Which… means I have friends… -.-') Haha I can be socially awkward. But that's a good thing for you because it means I'm cranking out around 7 pages a day of writing! Which of course brings more Enough to you!
But your responses have been touching and truly remarkable, so thank you! Keep it up, and I'll keep bringing more!
~Lilly-Belle
