A/N: The song is "Love Love Love" by F.T. Island
Ferb's POV. Set weeks after chapter 1.

Love Love Love
"Good bye, my love love love
Fare well, my love love love
Even though my tears filling up soak my whole body,
Now good bye good bye good bye
Please be happy after leaving me
Step by step, you are getting farther away from me"

I grip the key to Phineas's apartment for what must be the millionth time, the cool, familiar weight in my hand being my only comfort and anchor to the relentless thoughts circulating around my mind. I turn the precious metal around in my sweaty palms, glancing anxiously at my phone yet again.

No new messages.

I close my eyes solemnly for a moment with a sigh, before redirecting my attention to my bedroom window. The rain outside seems to reflect my current state: broody and chaotic like the storm taking place in the depths of my subconscious. Distant thunder and windswept pitter-patter are the only noises to fill my whole flat. The echoing sounds reiterating through each room are just another reminder of how uncomfortable the feel is here. It seems no matter how satisfied I am with my housing, I feel something missing- it feels empty. And to be honest, I feel empty.

For weeks, all I've had is the overcast skies, sporadic rain, and this damned key close at hand to keep me company. Well that and the occasional call from Dad and Mum. They've been worried, albeit with good reason. It was the first time it occurred to me that Phineas and I weren't the only ones affected by my moving. To clarify all the questions (primarily "Why?"), I explained that sharing an apartment with my step-brother had gotten crowded, if not disagreeable. Although not my actual reason, it was still somewhat true.

That wasn't their exact worry, however. Apparently, Phineas is and has been very depressed. When they've tried to phone him, they say he's very quiet and disheartened, as though he's feeble or demure- which is of course, very out of character for him.

"We don't blame you, son." Dad had tried to illustrate. Not that I believe him. I know they must blame me almost as much as I blame myself. It is my fault, after all. That fact has weighed heavily on me these few weeks, making me feel as though I carry an eternity's worth of guilt.

I love my step-brother. I never intended to hurt him like this. And I've tried my hardest to convey this to him. I'm sure I've filled up his answering machine with dozens of messages. Yet I fear they all have fallen on deaf ears, since he refuses to respond to any sort of communication I attempt to establish. No calls, texts, emails, letters... he's been ignoring me completely since the night I left. However, I can't say I don't understand. I know he feels abandoned. "Because you did abandon him." is the thought that passes through my mind. I physically shake my head, trying to rid the conclusion from this assessment. Phineas has always had trouble with abandonment. It's something we tried not to talk about often, but the loss of a father in the Flynn family had left them all scarred. It's something I didn't think about at the time, or I just tried to push it out of my mind, but in leaving I believe I have re-opened those old wounds. Perhaps I even left a few new ones.

If it would make him happy, I would leave him alone. I would take this silence as an invitation to stay out of his life forever. Who knows, maybe that would be best. But I just can't- not just now. I can't leave him to bear this pain and loneliness. Knowing what a mess he must be, and knowing I did it to him kills me. If only I could just mend what I've broken before he turns his back on me forever... that's all I can ask. It's probably so selfish of me, that I can justify seeing him again by some hope that it's what he needs.

I unclench my fist, unaware I had been gripping it tight enough to turn my knuckles white. I give the metallic object a hard stare. This small key holds in itself so many memories. And even as Phineas takes these steps away from me, leaving me behind, I can't let go. Not yet. Standing up after having made up my mind, my eyes linger a while longer outside to the rain. At this moment, the droplets seem to represent the tears I will not let fall. I snatch my phone, and begin dialing for a cab as I stride out my door, not even bothering to pick up a jacket.

-
"Rain soaks my whole body
I struggle to lift my head again and look at the sky
Rain drops falling into my eyes replace the tears
that I've been holding back again and again
thinking of you"
-

I take a few deep breaths, attempting to calm my feverish nerves as I stare thoughtfully at the door before me. I shiver, my damp clothes making me feel as cold and unmovable as stone. I begin doubting myself, realizing this unexpected visit to Phineas will probably not go very well. Unsure of how Phineas will act in his vulnerable state, I'm not sure how he'll act. Moreover, I'm not sure how I'll act. With all my recent sensitivity to emotion, I don't know if I can control my actions any longer, depending on what may happen beyond this door. To sum it up, I'm not certain of anything right now.

Knowing I'm prone to having doubts at the last second, I've devised a way to handle my reluctance- I combat the doubts externally. Taking one last cautious breath, I push all of the previous thoughts out of my head, jam the key into the lock, and push the door open without so much as a knock. As I step into the room and close the door behind me, I mentally prepare myself for whatever I may find. I continue into the living room, my eyes darting around the area. They pause briefly to settle on the storm outside, and I'm reminded of my damp state. But I pull my eyes away just in time to catch the sight of Phineas emerging from his room with a confused and annoyed look, casting said gaze at the front door.

Before he shifts his sights to me, I have a moment to fully take in the sight of my step-brother. When I do, I feel my heart grow heavier. He's wearing an orange hoody that hangs off his tiny frame and blue pajama pants that seem a bit loose around the waist. Mind lingering on his wrinkled attire, I realize he's lost weight. His ginger hair sticks up in varying directions yet it falls far enough across his eyes to indicate the need for an overdue haircut. And as I gape at his disheveled state, his face is what causes my breathing to falter. His skin is as pale as the moon, almost to a sickly degree. His nostrils flare, reddened from irritation. Finally, his eyes are slightly blood-shot and the bangs under his eyes are puffy.

I don't have time to digest any more because as soon as our eyes connect, he doesn't skip a beat before turning around and making a break for his bedroom door. My feet sprint to catch up and realization dawns on his intent- he's about to slam the door to lock me out. The childish action seems laughable, until I find my foot jammed between door and frame with all of Phineas's weight crushing against me. I instinctively begin pushing back against him, unwilling to relinquish the territory this barrier hides.

Being larger and taller than Phineas, I've always been stronger. Therefore when Phineas finally gives up, with a ear-piercing "Goddammit, Ferb!", I'm only surprised at his unusually harsh language and the immature way he proceeds to turn away from me on his heel and cross his arms, undoubtedly pouting. The moment I'm about to give myself for a small grin of gratification is cut by the way my face falls upon seeing our old bedroom in exactly the same condition I'd left it almost a month ago. Stepping inside to get a better view, I feel my stomach drop. My mouth hangs open marginally, as I try to comprehend why my step-brother's room is untouched.

My brows knitting together in worry, I tear my eyes away from the walls and turn my attention back to Phineas. I slowly make my way over to stand at a small distance before stretching out to settle my hand on his shoulder, hoping to convey my thoughts in one touch. I can almost gasp when he violently shrugs way my hand, taking a step out of my reach. Annoyance and hurt wash over me and I step within range once again, trying to communicate by carefully placing both of my palms on each of his shoulders. I'm able to size up his small frame and recognize how bony he's gotten just before he turns around sharply, slapping my hands away from him detestably. He follows by glaring up at me, eyes full of so much bitter melancholy and spite that I can't help but think "If these fiery cobalt eyes don't strike me down, it will be a pity, because I'd be better off dead about now."

"Don't touch me." he spits out, as though it's such an awful taste, he could have gagged.

I could feel myself bleeding resolve and self-control out of the wound he just dealt. I feel like I could either crumble to my knees or tower over any destruction left in my wake. The stench of betrayal reeks off the tension in the air, its source being the sneer I force myself to return as a mere gaze. I absorb the anguish being shot at me, and endure the reaction to crumble instead of 'tower.' I feel my breath hitch, and a rain droplet falls from my hair and down my cheek, where a tear would have gladly taken the place if I weren't holding it back. Hopelessly, I reach a near-trembling hand out to caress his slightly flushed cheek-

I'm knocked a few steps backwards by blow to my cheek bone. As the initial shock washes over me a few times, I remain slightly hunched over with my arms hanging limply at my sides. I was definitely not expecting that.

My feet hold my stance unbalanced yet they remain firmly planted on the ground and spread a ways apart to keep my long legs from buckling. My hair falls loosely over my downcast eyes, my highlights reflecting an almost emerald hue in the light. My eyes remain wavering over the carpet around my feet and I give a hard stare at my 10-eye white Dr. Martens, my dark purple skinny jeans, the chain hanging from my belt, anything that's not in the upwards direction.

I remain frozen for a while, until I feel something drip down my face. I dismiss it as another rain drop, until it drips off my chin and onto the tip of my boot. I reach up quickly, wiping my hand against the bruise I feel forming on my cheek and survey the bloody smears it left across my fingers. Straightening up, I shift a look from the my blood to Phineas, who is cradling the fist he punched me with. The thought that his injury from hitting me is enough does not run thought my mind. If someone ever said Ferb Fletcher remained his cool-headed self even when provoked, they were dead wrong. It takes a lot to make me angry, but once I'm angry, I don't handle it well.

Something snaps- from the pain, from the emotional roller coaster, from this whole fucking situation- and I find myself charging at Phineas with long strides, gripping his shoulders much harder than before, and continuing to shove him into a wall. The breath is knocked out of him for a moment, no doubt as shocked as I was earlier. My fingers are fisted in his hoody as he hangs his head trying to bring his breathing back to normal. I try to do the same, as I begin to gather my bearings. But before I can calm down enough to reason this out, I'm tackled to the ground as Phineas initiates a wrestling match.

Though neither of us were ever violent boys, wrestling was something we did for fun. Getting down and dirty and play-fighting is normal for most boys and we were no exception. Now, we begin falling back into how we would play back then. We're rolling around on Phineas's bedroom floor, each of us struggling to pin the other. And though things were serious not a few minutes ago, being so engaged and doing something that was once so natural to us both is making the atmosphere so much clearer. Being wrapped in a test of my strength and endurance versus Phineas's actually makes me feel so much closer to him, like we used to me. As I start to flip Phineas's body off of me, I join him in giggling.

Is it not just unfathomable how love makes you like this? Phineas can make me almost literally insane one minute, and the happiest person in the world the next. I mean, I could go on and on, but I already know all of this. I suppose that's yet another reason it's ignorant to think we could ever be together; Phineas deserves someone that can handle each other, through best and worst. That.. that's not me. Not that he would ever love me anyway, more than a brother. I don't know why I bother to entertain these types of notions. The closest we ever get to more than brotherly-love is.. is well, this.

'This', of course, by which I mean my current predicament. I'm pinning Phineas to his floor, sitting on his hips, and holding his wrists above his head. Everything is frozen again, like time's at a stand-still. He finally gave in, me having pinned him too well or him simply tiring out. I honestly don't care to think about that right now. Or anything else. I don't know of I could right now. All I can think about is me, hovering above my step-brother, both of us trying to catch our breath. I vaguely recall in the back of my mind why after we hit puberty, we only wrestled in our room.

My breath is mingling with his, and for the first time in a long time, I can observe Phineas from so close. The finer details of Phineas Flynn are the ones I hold dearest. I remember adoring the way the bridge of his nose and cheek bones are lightly dusted with freckles. As he would lay asleep next to me, curled into my chest, I would try to gingerly kiss each one. My eyes travel down to his slightly parted pink lips, and I can remember how they tasted as they travel back up to his cheeks, which are currently very flushed. He's beautiful. And I find my face inching closer and closer to his.

Then suddenly, as I breathe in his scent and swallow each of his ragged pants, our lips almost touch.. before something snaps. Vivid flashbacks wash over my mind, saturating all other thoughts and it's too much. The countless times before, Phineas- sweat plastering his hair to his forehead- breaths coming out uneven, panting- cheeks blushing- lips swollen, red, bruised, parted- giving me flustered, misty-eyed looks as he moaned and dug his nails into my back, writhing below me-

I lurch off of him, backing away a few feet. I turn away trying desperately to catch my breath and rid my mind of these awful images. I stagger to the window pane of his bedroom, pressing my forehead again the cold glass as if the cool sensation were enough to make me forget. I grasp the window sill with both hands at an attempt to stop my trembling fingers and stare out into the colourless skies and rain. Droplets fall against the glass on the other side my face, giving a valiant effort at making contact.

Those memories may well be the death of me. And Phineas.. he was being sucked in as well. It's all too easy to fall back into that routine with him. It's as though when I'm near him, my senses are set ablaze and my inhibitions put on hold.

"I honest can't control myself near him," I think, releasing a quiet sigh that becomes strangled in my throat, coming out as something akin to a sob.

As I continue to sulk and feed myself dejected speeches, I barely register the sounds of Phineas getting up behind me and walking off. It takes a minute for me to realize, but as soon as I do, I can't help but wonder if he would come back or not. Waiting for any sounds of the flat's door opening or closing to signal his exit, I'm tolerably surprised to hear him return to the bedroom.

When I turn to glance at him, I'm met with his outstretched palm, reaching for and gently taking hold of my arm. His eyes are downcast and I can't get a word in before I'm pulled hesitantly into the living room and am plopped onto the sofa. He releases my arm only to grab my hand and place an icy object in it.

"It... It's for your cheek. I can already see a bruise forming." He utters slowly and cautiously, voice barely above a whisper as he sits awkwardly by my side. I look down to the ice pack, back to his eyes that still refuse to meet mine, then I simply nod before holding it to my cheek.

Silence fills the room as seconds tick by, slowly turning to minutes.

"I'm sorry, Ferb." Phineas breaks the silence after what was almost 10 minutes. I turn to face him, relieved he is finally ready to engage me, until I catch sight of a lone tear trailing down his cheek. I, too, feel overwhelmed at what's turned out to be such an emotional roller coaster. Sighing, I settle on simply allowing my lids to slip closed as I pull my step-brother into a warm embrace. We stay like this for a while, Phineas's face buried in my shoulder, until I hear a soft hiccup followed by a small, broken voice that does not suit him.

"H-How did we- hiccup- come to this?"

Unsure- but at the same time, very much sure- of how to answer, I shake my head slowly. More silence, until he pulls away enough to glance up at me quickly before looking away again.

"I still down understand why you moved away. If it was because of me, the-then I'm sorry." he paused for a moment, looking very grim. "But I know I can't change your mind." he took a shaky breath before continuing. "If you love something, let it go right?" he paused again, as if waiting for confirmation. He nodded his head a little, "So.. so maybe we could both be happy now."

He finally looks to me and holds my gaze. I simply plaster on a facade, smiling before pulling him into another hug. But the last sentence he said plays over and over again in my mind and I feel myself stung more each time by those words. It takes a few seconds, digesting each syllable, playing out the possible meanings to the comment, but I come to a solid conclusion.

Phineas is happier without me.

Why didn't I see it? Sure, he went though the initial shock of not having the one person who he counted on suddenly gone. He was just unstable. But he must see now that he is better off. I smile honestly, knowing that I'm making my most cherished person happy, as I try to push away the agonizing pain delving deeper and deeper into my chest.

I conclude this may be the last time we see each other as well. Thinking, "If this will be it, I'll make it last." I pull Phineas into a tighter hug and begin carefully pulling him downwards until we both relax against the cushions at our backs. I stretch out as he wiggles to get comfortable, smiles contently, and snuggles in close. I try to control my breathing and collect myself, but soon the even breathing coming from beside me lulls me to slumber as well.

"I didn't know love because my heart is cold,
Thank you, really. I now understand that this is what love is,

My heart stops. My breath stops. You are leaving me.

Good bye, my love love love
Fare well, my love love love
Even though my filling up tears soak my whole body,
Now good bye good bye good bye
Please be happy after leaving me
Step by step, you are getting farther away from me"

A/N: So this is in the point of view of Ferb. Therefore, I can only portray what Ferb sees and feels and thinks. Ferb is a logical guy. He makes assumptions to the best of his knowledge, even if it's not entirely accurate. He's also sort of pessimistic, but I mean, who wouldn't be in his situation. So his judgment is clouded. He sees no chance of Phineas loving him back, so anywhere there could be even a "maybe" is shot down in his mind.
Phineas has yet to realize any of this or voice his real feelings. So Ferb assumes things.