Chapter Text
Silence. Silence again.
A calm night had settled over Danville. Streetlamps cast yellow circles of light onto sidewalks and roads. Single lamps glowed in house windows, with the occasional flicker of a television screen. Above the neighborhood stretched a dark sky, pierced by scattered stars. There was little movement in the streets — a car passed by every now and then, followed by silence once more. Crickets chirped, a dog barked softly somewhere in the distance, a front door slammed shut. The air cooled after the long day, while lawns and rooftops slowly sank into shadow.
Most residents spent the evening indoors. Someone was cleaning the kitchen, someone else turning off the hallway light. Backyards lay empty, playgrounds stood still.
Meanwhile, the Flynn-Fletcher house had also grown quiet. After many suggestions about where the future generation should spend the night, a final decision was made: Amanda, Fred, Xavier, Mila, and Theo would stay at the Garcia-Shapiro house due to Vivian’s absence. Ivy and Violet, however, would remain at the Flynn-Fletcher home — along with Isabella.
Downstairs, absolute darkness reigned; only moonlight filtered through the windows, barely illuminating the rooms. Not the faintest rustle, murmur, or muffled whisper — just silence. Unlike the first floor, where everyone was getting ready for bed after giving instructions to Phineas and Isabella’s daughters, who were sleeping in the guest room directly across from the boys’ bedroom.
“She fainted… and then fell asleep?” Ferb’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, disappearing into his light-green hair as he stared at their sleeping friend. He received nothing more than a shrug in response. Unfazed, Ferb stepped closer and placed his hand on the girl’s forehead — only for it to be immediately pushed away. “Even in her sleep, she knows when you touch her,” he mocked, watching her roll onto her other side.
“Shut up,” Phineas snapped, running a hand through her raven-black hair streaked with deep blue. Ferb rolled his eyes and walked around the bed to stand beside his brother.
“Violet told her everything?” he asked bluntly. The silence was answer enough. A smirk appeared on Ferb’s face as he headed back to his own bed. He dropped onto it, slid under the covers, laced his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. “Good luck sleeping.”
At those words, Phineas felt his face heat up. A burning flush spread across his cheeks, and a swarm of butterflies invaded his stomach uninvited. His breathing turned uneven, his heart pounded harder, his pulse quickened. He swallowed hard, trying to calm his body’s reaction. He only relaxed once Ferb had fallen asleep. A quiet sigh of relief escaped him as a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. He glanced at his sleeping brother, then back at the equally “sleeping” girl beside him.
Tilting his head slightly, he bit the inside of his cheek before carefully getting up, making sure not to make any noise. He stepped into the hallway, closed the bedroom door behind him, and knocked on the one across the hall.
“Come in.”
He hesitantly peeked inside.
“Is something wrong, da- uh, I mean… Phineas?” Ivy stammered, sitting cross-legged on the large double bed. Phineas smiled softly and stepped into the room, sitting down on the edge of the mattress.
“Violet confessed?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. The confusion on Ivy’s face was all the answer he needed. He chuckled quietly, shaking his head.
“Confessed to what?” she frowned, in that familiar way that so closely resembled her mother.
“Well… you know Isabella fainted,” he said slowly, waiting for confirmation. Sophia nodded, still unsure where this was going. “Do you know why?”
“No,” she replied, blinking in confusion.
“Hm…” He glanced down at his hands, then looked back up at her. “She revealed that Isabella is your mom,” he whispered. The shock that seized Ivy was written across her entire body. Her mouth fell open into a perfect “o,” her eyes wide like coins. She blinked, then jumped to her feet and rushed out of the room.
Phineas followed, stopping her halfway to the bathroom where Viilet was. “Iv, please don’t make a scene,” he whispered, placing both hands on her shoulders. Their eyes met — she could see the plea in her father’s gaze. “This might actually be a good thing.”
“A good thing?” she repeated flatly, narrowing her eyes. “Dad, this could destroy the timeline.”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t have to,” he replied calmly. “Think about it — from your point of view, in your present, this could only strengthen my bond with Isabella.”
“Your bond is already strong enough,” she muttered, barely holding back a laugh at the look on his face. “I’m serious, Dad,” she added with a quiet giggle.
“Yes, yes. Go back to your room,” he waved her off.
“We’re the same age — you can’t boss me around,” she crossed her arms, pouting like a five-year-old.
“In the future, am I your father, or are you my mother?” Phineas raised an eyebrow teasingly, pointing first at himself, then at her. When she failed to respond, he flashed her a victorious smile and returned to his bedroom.
The conversation with Ivy made him forget entirely about the situation he was in — until he closed the door behind him and stepped into the dim room once more. He stopped in the middle, torn between two choices: sleeping on the couch downstairs or lying beside Isabella. In hindsight, choosing the second option have been erfect for both of them — but right now, Phineas wasn’t entirely sure.
Still dressed in his denim shorts and hoodie, he gently shifted Isabella to the other half of his raft-like bed. She murmured something unintelligible in her sleep. As quietly as possible, he slipped under the blanket, pulling it up over both of them. Propping himself on his right elbow, he watched her for a moment before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She turned her back to him, continuing to sleep as he settled in behind her, pressing her gently against his chest.
Slowly, he closed his eyes, savoring the strawberry scent of her hair.
Three hours later…
The clock showed a little past two in the morning when the glow of Ferb’s smartphone lit up the brothers’ bedroom, its vibration efficiently waking its owner. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and rolled onto his back, blindly reaching for the phone on the nightstand. He sighed softly and opened the messages app, tapping on the conversation with the blonde girl.
Lee: I can’t sleep, Ferby :)
Ferby: And what I'm supposed to do about that, Lee?
Wincing at every rustle of sheets and creak of the floorboards, he slipped out of the bedroom on tiptoe and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he locked the door and slid down the wooden surface until he was sitting on the cool tiles. He unlocked his phone again and tapped the green call icon. He raised the device to his ear, waiting for the signal — the call was answered in less than a second.
“What’s up?” A quiet giggle echoed through the speaker. Ferb’s lips twitched upward slightly as he rolled his eyes, ignoring the quickened beat of his heart. “I woke you up, didn’t I?” she asked more softly this time, with a hint of guilt.
“Maybe yes, maybe no,” he shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. They fell silent for a few seconds, savoring the calm in the midst of all the chaos. “How are you feeling?” he cleared his throat quietly.
Emily held her breath, biting her lower lip. “That depends… what exactly are you asking about?” she said nervously, twisting her fingers together.
“Everything,” he replied simply. “We’ve known each other for two years, and I rarely ask you that… though I’ve been talking more lately.”
“You talk more with the people you love and trust the most,” Emily pointed out, as if it were obvious. “You don’t even talk this much with Candace or your parents — only with Phin and Iska” she added, a faint reproach in her voice.
“I’m talking to you now,” Ferb said with a small smile. “That means I trust you and-” He stopped, pressing his lips into a thin line. Silence filled the call. Emily froze, staring at the wall in front of her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and finished softly:
“…love me.”
The air grew so thick it felt tangible, as if it could be cut with a knife. Neither of them spoke, lost in their thoughts and emotions. Memories surfaced in their minds — from their first meeting two years ago, through all their shared adventures, to now: the moment they had met their children from the future, the official seal on their relationship.
Ferb Fletcher had never been easy to read. For fourteen years of his life, he had been a man of action rather than words. He let his stepbrother speak for both of them — their minds always seemed inexplicably connected — instead of openly expressing what he felt. Only with the new year had he begun to talk more, to show more sides of himself than just the emotionless one. At first, only Phineas was allowed to see that side. Later, when Ferb turned fifteen, he realized Isabella was like the younger sister he never had — and he let her into that circle as well.
They stayed that way for another year, until the feelings Ferb had carried for nearly two years finally came into the light.
“Yes. I love you,” Ferb confirmed in a whisper, nodding slowly. His gaze fixed on a single point. “Not as a friend. Not as a little sister.”
Emily’s heart stopped — as did the air in her lungs. All she could do was blink and stare at the wall. She snapped out of it only when a coughing fit seized her from lack of breath. She covered her mouth with her hand, taking several deep breaths. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something — anything — but only a sob escaped.
“You crying?” Ferb chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement.
“Shut up,” she snapped, her brows knitting in open irritation. She wiped her damp cheeks with the back of her hand, sniffed, then cleared her throat. “Yeah, um… I won’t keep you up anymore. Sleep well.”
“Mhm. Good night, sweetheart,” he smiled faintly and hung up before she could react. He laughed quietly to himself, feeling a weight he hadn’t even realized was there lift from his chest.
Rising from the floor, he cast a brief glance at his reflection in the mirror before stepping back into the hallway. With a small smile, he returned to the bedroom, intending to go back to bed — but an amusing sight stopped him in his tracks.
He took two steps forward and leaned over the sleeping pair. His lips curled into a mischievous grin as he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. After sending it to everyone who wouldn’t be with them for the next few days (their parents, Buford, Baljeet, Stacy, Irving, Django, the Fireside Girls), he finally climbed into bed and drifted into a peaceful sleep.