TW- Implied, non-permanent death
"Hey Uncle Perry, come look at what we built today!" Phineas tugs on his uncle's sleeve, trying to hurry him along.
Candace is on Perry's other side, tugging him along as well. "You came home just in time," she says. "You'll vouch for me, right?"
Perry smiles. He usually humors his niece and her busting tendencies, but Linda never believes that the boys build on the scale they do.
The kids tug him through the backyard gate, and Perry looks up.
A giant metal superstructure, starting in the backyard and going towards downtown Danville towers over the house.
"We built another rollercoaster," Phineas says. "Come ride it with us?"
Perry gulps. He's never liked roller coasters. Sure, he might be a secret agent that regularly flies around with a jetpack, but roller coasters still freak him out. It's one of those stupid little fears.
"C'mon, you have to!" Candace says.
Okay, okay, Perry signs, putting on his bravest face. I'll come ride your roller coaster.
Phineas and Ferb take the front seat of the cart, with Perry right behind them, and Candace sitting in the back row.
Perry looks around. Shouldn't the other kids be here, too? Buford and Baljeet, the Fireside girls, heck, even Django? Something feels...off. The day feels a touch too bright, the birds are just barely too loud.
"Here we go," Phineas says, and the cart ascends the first hill. It rattles ominously as it goes up, and a shudder runs down Perry's spine. He can't help but shake the feeling that this was a bad idea.
But this is something Phineas and Ferb built. It should be safe, right? They've got the best luck in the universe.
The cart crests the first hill and starts to plummet downwards. Perry's stomach is in his throat as they hurtle towards the ground. Phineas and Candace scream in delight, while Ferb is silent as per usual.
They take turns at breathtaking speeds, performing loops and stunts almost faster than Perry can even process them. His hands stay in a pale-knuckled grip on the safety bar. Each turn seems precarious, like the cart is barely staying on its track.
And then it happens. The cart takes a hard right, but the turn is just a degree too far, or the brakes activate a little too much, or a chain snaps, or something. Either way, the cart falls off the track, plummeting from the height of Danville's tallest skyscraper all the way to the ground below.
This can't be happening. They can't be falling. But the wind whips around Perry's face, roaring in his ears. The ground gets closer and closer still.
They're falling, plummeting down at speeds close to terminal velocity, the asphalt of the pavement rushing up to meet them. No trampoline to break their fall, no truck full of pillows anywhere in sight. Nothing around them that could save them- nothing to break the fall.
Behind him, Candace screams. Phineas is screaming too, but Candace's is more shrill. Perry turns around as best he can, locking eyes with her. Briefly, the absurd side of his brain wonders if she'll still try to bust the boys- if they survive this.
No, no, no no no. He can't think like that. They'll survive, they have to. The cart tips sideways, rotating on its descent. Perry braces himself, trying to at least stay inside the cart. Isn't that what you do when the boat threatens to capsize? Never mind the fact that this isn't a boat, never mind that they'll be dead no matter what.
Ferb slips out of the cart, desperately reaching out to grab onto Perry. His grip catches onto Perry's tie, pulling them both forwards and out of the cart. They fall further still, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch-
Perry's eyes fly open, revealing nothing but a dim bedroom. No falling, no screaming, no backyard, no rollercoaster. For a long moment, the only sound he can hear is the sound of his pulse, racing in his ears- although he swears he can still hear Candace's shrieks.
Slowly, his racing heart slows and his breathing evens out.
Fuck, that was a bad one. Not like there's any good nightmares, but some are more bearable than others. The ones that involve the kids, or Heinz, or both, are the worst of all.
Especially when they involve an invention failing. It's too close to reality, too easy to imagine happening.
At least he didn't end up lashing out in his sleep. That's happened before, and it's no fun for anybody involved.
Perry glances over to his side. Heinz is still asleep, the soft sounds of his breathing filling the room. A look at the clock reveals that it's two in the morning.
Not even two hours of sleep, and he gets a nightmare. What a disastrous cherry on top of an already strange night.
He should probably get back to sleep. If he can.
After a few long minutes of tossing and turning, it becomes clear that he's not getting back to sleep anytime soon.
In that case, he might as well go get some tea. Pulling on one of Heinz's lab coats (they are comfortable, both physically and psychologically), he leaves their bedroom to go to the kitchen.
It's kind of nice at this time of night, in a weird sort of way. The air has cooled off, although it's still pleasantly warm due to it being late July. There's only a tiny bit of noise from the street nearly forty floors below. The moon is full and bright enough to provide enough light to see by.
Everyone else is asleep, providing an almost eerie atmosphere that's strangely comforting.
Perry picks up the kettle from the counter, filling it with water and setting it on the stove. A quick glance in the cupboard reveals that his usual mug is in the dishwasher, so he gets a plain blue one out instead.
The soft sounds of someone walking into the kitchen register in Perry's ears, and he turns around. For a moment, it looks like there's nobody there, but then he looks down, and there's the platypus.
Couldn't sleep? Perry asks.
The platypus shrugs, waving his hand in a 'kind of' gesture.
Nightmare? Perry asks, his expression softening, and this time the platypus nods. Me too. Want some tea?
The platypus nods again. Perry gets out another mug, setting it on the counter. Platypus Perry hops up to sit on the counter, and Perry leans back against the granite as well.
For a long moment, they merely wait for the kettle to boil, the silence stretching on. There's a clock in the living room, ticking quietly, the sound carrying out to the kitchen.
Eventually, the water boils, and Perry turns off the stove before the kettle whistles enough to wake anybody else. He pours water into the mugs, then adds a tea bag to each.
The platypus takes his tea, adding a bit of agave syrup from the bottle on the counter to the mug. Perry doesn't add anything to his.
It's easier when they're just about me, he signs, the nightmares. They're disturbing, but they're not as bad as the ones with the kids.
Perry the Platypus nods, staring into his tea. His face is stoic, but his body language betrays his experiences. He's had the same ones, seen the same horrific things happen in the far reaches of his unconsciousness.
Why does it have to happen? He's seen enough horrible things happen in real life, why can't he get some reprieve at night?
Yes, he knows it's an unconscious response to trauma (although a falling rollercoaster isn't exactly something he's experienced in his waking hours), but still. Can't he catch a break every now and then?
You still live with Phineas and Ferb as their pet, right?
Platypus Perry nods.
How has that been?
Instead of signing anything, the platypus takes off his locket and pops it open, handing it to Perry.
Inside are three pictures. Phineas, Ferb, and Candace. Phineas and Ferb are grinning, Candace is wearing a graduation cap.
Where is she going to college? Perry asks.
Somewhere in New York, I don't remember the name, the platypus signs.
She wanted to get some distance from Danville, huh? Perry the Platypus nods.
It's the same in this dimension. Might have to visit, when I'm on a mission out there. Perry sighs. They grow up so fast, don't they.
His tea has cooled to an acceptable temperature by now, so he picks up his mug and takes a sip.
Do you ever worry about losing them, when they build? Like it's just one failed brake, one miscalculation from them dying? He doesn't specify who he's talking about, but the platypus understands anyway.
The platypus curls in on himself a little, putting his locket back on, but still keeping it open. Slowly, staring at the ground, he nods.
I hope I never have to see it.
With that, Perry picks his tea back up. They drink in silence for a long while, but it isn't an awkward silence. It's the silence of two vastly different individuals, with barely anything in common, ruminating on how alike they really are.
After about fifteen minutes, Perry's mug is empty, and he's actually feeling tired. A glance at the clock on the microwave says it's about two-thirty in the morning.
I'm going back to sleep, he says to the platypus. You should probably do the same. See you in the morning.
Perry the Platypus waves good night, and Perry walks into the bedroom.
Heinz is still asleep, like nothing happened. In a way, Perry envies him tonight. But he has his own nightmares that get him up at odd hours of the night as well, so not every sleep is as peaceful as this.
He tucks himself back into bed, wrapping an arm around Heinz again. Thankfully, he's asleep almost as soon as he closes his eyes.
Perry wakes up again at seven AM, just like usual. Even going to bed late and having a nightmare to interrupt things can't shake his internal clock.
Sometimes, always waking up at the same time is nice. More often, it ends up being annoying when he wakes up at seven- Danville time- when he's somewhere like Australia. Or heck, even Los Angeles.
(On a side note, missions in LA tend to be fun ones, and it's not like he has a consistent sleep schedule when he's out in the world for missions anyway.)
Again, just like usual, he gets out of bed and changes into a t-shirt and shorts. Even though everything has been turned on its head in the last...twelve hours, it's nice to keep the routine. And that means going for his usual morning run.
Out in the living room, the Perry that showed up holding...something metal (what it is, and where it is now, Perry has no idea) is sitting up on the couch, probably waiting for the others to get up- and clearly bored.
Where are you going? The other Perry asks.
For a run. You want to come with me?
The other Perry thinks for a moment, then nods and stands up. Sure, why not.
They take the stairs down to the ground floor of the building, then head out on Perry's usual five and a half mile circuit of downtown Danville.
It's always nice to see the city come to life in the mornings. The small businesses clustered around the base of tall office buildings opening their doors, the hustle and bustle of the commuters.
Perry waves to Lawrence as they pass the Flynn-Fletcher's antique shop. It's a testament to how strange Danville is that he doesn't even do a double take.
They run through Danville's park, passing by several other people also out for their morning exercise. It isn't exactly the season for flowers to be blooming, but the greenery around is still nice scenery. Much nicer than the wintertime, when everything is gray and kind of dismal.
It's good that you showed up in clothes this time, Perry jokes with the other him as they head back upstairs.
The other Perry nods emphatically. Thank goodness for small miracles, huh?
Do you happen to have your hat with you?
Other Perry pauses for a moment. Sorry, my what?
Your agent fedora- is it in this dimension?
The other Perry shakes his head slowly, like Perry is the odd one for asking. Huh. Did he stop being an agent? He's not wearing his watch either- that would really be the only explanation.
The elevator dings, stopping that train of thought. They head back into the apartment, where the smell of coffee and the sound of Heinz's laughter permeates the air.
"Good morning, schatz," Heinz says, greeting Perry with a kiss on the cheek when he walks through the kitchen. "Warm out there?"
Perry nods. It's going to be another beautiful day in Danville, that's for sure. Briefly he wonders what his nephews are going to do today.
Hopefully, that doesn't involve building a rollercoaster. Or anything else that performs death-defying stunts.
Perry changes into his usual outfit, tying his orange-plaid tie (the one Heinz says is an "abomination to humanity", as if) as he heads back out into the kitchen.
The teacher is pulling something out of the oven as he goes to make some tea- on closer inspection it looks like muffins.
Since when have I been able to bake? Perry asks, taking a muffin from the tin and putting the kettle on, despite the fact that the muffins fresh out of the oven and thus still burning-hot.
The teacher shrugs, smirking at the way Perry bobbles the muffin from hand to hand in a vain attempt to avoid burning his fingers. What, you can't?
Don't know about you guys, the other Perry signs, but I burn absolutely everything.
Perry nods, setting the muffin down on the table to let it cool. I'm the same way.
The platypus, who has been sitting on the table and watching the whole time, shrugs, then picks up Perry's muffin and eats it in two bites.
Perry glares at him. That was mine, jerk, he signs to the completely non-apologetic platypus.
Oh, here, the teacher signs, tossing Perry another muffin. There's plenty for everyone.
The muffins, now at a more edible temperature, are delicious.
So, the fedora-less Perry asks, now that we've got time to think about it, do we have any idea how to get everyone back to their dimensions?
The other Perrys shake their heads. I don't even know how this happened, the teacher signs. Sure is an inconvenient time for it, though.
"Speaking of time," Heinz says, "I actually have an idea. All we have to do is…" he hesitates, then says the next part as fast as he possibly can.
"All we have to do is build a time machine."