A/N: Warning: this chapter contains a bit of implied attempted child abuse and some really bad parenting, but I assure you our little Ferb is perfectly safe and capable of handling himself. If the idea bothers you, though, you can skip after "Ferb blinked open his eyes and he was at his mom's house" and you shouldn't be too lost.
It had been just over two weeks since their trip to the planetarium and to Mars, and Ferb was in the middle of a nightmare. Isabella had come to them with a terrible case of the hiccups so they'd decided to build a haunted house to see if they could scare them out of her. He'd managed the controls while Phineas took Isabella through the different levels. He was a little disappointed in the costumes Baljeet and Buford had chosen as frightening, but the Fireside girls had gotten good costume ideas and everything else seemed to be functioning properly so he'd counted it as a win.
When the duo finally made it to the top he'd had high hopes that Isabella would be over her hiccups. She wasn't. Then Candace had come screaming in, having been caught on the cart in the middle of their upping of the power. She'd been dressed nice but her outfit was covered in mud and she'd started yelling at them about all the stuff that had almost killed her before turning and storming her way out.
Now Ferb was frozen in terror, watching the redhead rising higher and higher from where he'd gotten stuck in the house. When the building had started to shake they'd all run for the exit but Phineas had gotten stuck on a broken slat from the door. The house took him with it before they could get him out. And then the unimaginable happened. The slat broke under his weight and sent him into freefall. He was going to be killed and there was nothing Ferb could do about it. His mind was too jumbled to be able to come up with any quick ideas.
All he could think was that this couldn't be happening. Phineas couldn't die. He wasn't real. You had to be real to die, right? And if he did, what would happen to Ferb? This was his dream after all. Would he keep coming back to their quiet backyard night after night to sit there by himself until he woke back up? Would he start having different dreams? Phineas had been a part of his nightlife for so long that he didn't know what he'd do otherwise.
Luckily for him Isabella was a quick thinker in any situation. After a split second panic she'd snapped the fireside girls into action, weaving their sashes into a suitable net to catch the falling boy. He bounced off safely and landed in Isabella's arms. "Now that was scary," she told him. Then a grin spread across her face. "Hey! My hiccups are gone! Thanks, Phineas!" She set him back on his feet and he gave her a confident grin, but Ferb noticed the slight wobble in his legs and came forward to stand at his shoulder, offering silent support. "Glad we could help!" the redhead told her, waving as she and their friends left the backyard. When it was just the two of them again, Phineas sagged, leaning his weight back into Ferb.
"That was terrifying, Ferb," the shorter boy said softly, pulling off the mad scientist wig and looking up at Ferb from under his sweaty bangs. "Let's never do that again, okay?" Ferb nodded, wrapping his arms around Phineas's chest. "Please never do that again…" he whispered, feeling tears burning in the back of his eyes. He was pretty sure they weren't from the Frankenstein's Monster makeup he was wearing either. Phineas looked like he was about to say something, but everything was suddenly growing dim and fuzzy. He was waking up, but it wasn't him waking himself up, someone was shaking him. He could feel it now, a soft but persistent grip on his shoulder.
The backyard faded around Phineas's confused face, and before long he was blinking his eyes open in the bedroom he had at his mom's house.
When his vision cleared, he had to do a double take to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was. Frank was sitting on the edge of the racecar bed, one hand stroking Ferb's shoulder lightly. He was dressed in pajama pants and a white undershirt, and he must have showered before going to bed because his hair wasn't it's usual styled do and the choking odor of Ralph Lauren was missing. "Hey, Ferbo, you ok?" He asked, still stroking his arm. Ferb wanted to pull away and find out what he was doing in his room at… he glanced to the clock...1:30 in the morning, but the way his blankets were tucked in and where Frank was sitting had him pinned under the comforter.
"I got up for some water and I heard you. Sounded like you were having a nightmare so I thought I'd check on you. Make sure you were alright." His hand fell from Ferb's shoulder to his blanketed thigh where he continued to rub circles. The action was likely meant as soothing, but it just set Ferb's teeth on edge. It felt wrong, like it was a knife Frank was drawing across his skin instead of his fingers.
"You know you can talk to me, right? I know you're going through a hard time right now, what with your parents divorcing and your dad likely leaving town after it's all over, and I just want you to know that I'm here for you. I care about you, Ferb." Frank leaned in close, one hand braced uncomfortably against Ferb's thigh and the other up by his head. "I care about you…" The hand on his thigh came up to the edge of the blanket, pulling it down until Ferb was laying on the bed in just his pajamas. "I just want to take care of you, Ferb. You get that, right? This will be our little secret, yeah? Your mom's going through so much right now, no need to worry her with trivial things…"
Frank reached for his waistband and Ferb came out of his horror induced stupor. Lashing out, he kicked Frank in the chest, shoving him away so that he could get away. The older man made a grab for him, but Ferb was used to dodging bullies when he needed to and avoided the grasping hands like an expert and ran into the hall to start banging on his mom's door. The woman yanked it open, blinking sleepily around the hall above Ferb's head before realizing it was her panicking son. Ferb was practically hyperventilating, trying desperately to get words out and air in.
"Frank… my r-room… he- he tried… tried to…" he couldn't get the words out. His lungs felt too tight and his head was spinning. He could still feel too big hands rubbing circles on his leg. He was gulping air trying to get enough to tell his mom what had just happened when the man in question came out into the hall. He looked completely unruffled save for the way he was holding his arm to his ribs. Ferb hoped he at least cracked a couple for what he'd tried to do. "Ferb? Frank… what's going on, you two?"
"Franktriedtomolestme!" Ferb finally got out, hoping his mom understood the rushed shout. Hey, Karen would be proud. "Frank tried what now, sweetie? Frank? What happened?" Frank chuckled, hiding a wince behind that smile of his. Ferb wanted to kick the perfect white teeth in. "Ferb here just had a nightmare, sweetheart. I went in to check on him and he just freaked out a little. Isn't that right, Ferb?" The look he gave Ferb held a warning, but Ferb wasn't about to listen. "He's lying, mom. He was in my room. He woke me up and started stroking my leg, and then he tried to pull my pants down!"
Susan Fletcher looked from her son's panicked gaze, to her boyfriend's smile that said "kids and their stories, huh?" and then sighed. "Ferb, sweetie, it was just a dream. Why don't you go on back to bed. Your father will be here around nine to pick you up. Apologize to Frank and go to bed." With another sigh, the woman turned and walked back into her bedroom, leaving her shell shocked son out in the hall. Frank stepped up behind him, one meaty hand landing on the thin shoulder and squeezing none too gently, causing the child to jump and wince violently. "It's alright, Ferb. I forgive you. Now why don't you go get some sleep. Sweet dreams!"
Ferb was numb as he walked back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He hesitated a moment, then locked it for good measure. He couldn't believe it. His mom didn't believe him. She'd sided with her boyfriend of only a few months. Staring at his bed for a long moment, he decided there was no way he was sleeping in there again so he grabbed an extra blanket from the steamer trunk against the wall and brought it into his closet where he shoved shoes out of the way and curled up behind his layers of hanging clothing. He didn't sleep again that night, and already had his stuff packed when morning rolled around and someone was rattling his doorknob. "Ferb, honey? Why is your door locked? Your father will be here soon. Are you up?" It was his mom.
Ferb stood, taking his bag with him as he walked over and unlocked his door. "Oh, you're already packed? That's good. Are you hungry? Frank's making pancakes." Ferb shook his head, face a blank mask. Slipping past his mom, he carried his bag into the living room and sat it down by the door, using it as a bench to wait. Frank stuck his head out of the kitchen as he passed. "Hey, Ferbo! You hungry? They're blueberry, your favorite!" Ferb decided right then he hated blueberry. Instead of answering he kept his gaze locked on the window, looking for his dad's car to pull up.
After what seemed like forever, the familiar little grey car pulled up to the house. The driver wasn't even fully out of the vehicle before Ferb was out there throwing his bag into the trunk and climbing into his carseat. "Ferb? What's wrong? Aren't you going to tell your mother goodbye?" Ferb shook his head, fighting back tears. The brunet studied his son for a moment before cranking the car again. Something was wrong, but he clearly didn't want to talk about it right now. Offering his soon-to-be ex-wife a wave to let her know he had Ferb, he pulled back onto the road and started for home.
They made it back to the apartment in silence, and he let Ferb drop his bag in his room before calling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch. "Ferb? You want to tell me what has you so upset?" Ferb hesitated, staring down at his trainers. His mom hadn't believed him. Would his dad? A hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched. Hard. "Ferb? Ferb, what happened? What's wrong?" Tears were blurring his vision and he buried his face in his dad's shirt. "Las-last ni-night… I had a nightmare and… when I wo-woke up Fra-ank was in my room, sitting on my bed. He was stroking my arm, talking to me, then he started to str-stro-oke my le-leg… and then he tried to…" Ferb couldn't finish. His voice cracked and he broke down in harsh sobs, his own breath choking him.
His dad held him, rubbing his back and whispering shushes into his ear. Unlike when Frank touched him, his dad's hands were comforting and he felt himself calming down. "I don't want to go back. Don't make me go back, please…" Ferb pulled back so he could look his dad in the eyes. The older man looked ancient and broken, but his face remained dry. "Of course not, Ferb. But we need to call the cops and tell them. Think you could do that?" Ferb nodded, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve. He could do that. If it meant Frank would be gone and he'd never have to see him again, he'd tell the cops anything they wanted to know.