It Won't Hurt Any Less

AN: Short two shot.

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Ferb has a fever and Phineas doesn't know how to fix it. Ferb had thrown up six times today and it didn't look like he would wake up any time soon. Mom told him to keep an eye on Ferb, since Phineas didn't feel like leaving their room anyways, so Phineas did exactly as he was told. He memorized Ferb's breathing pattern. He consistently checked Ferb's heart rate and temperature. He saw how much red was in Ferb's cheeks and how much blood had left the rest of Ferb's face. He knew the angle of Ferb's cheek bones. He noticed the way the dim lighting shined off Ferb's hair; how the light made different sections more or less green.

It didn't seem fair that Ferb is this sick. They both came down with this flu at the same time, but it hit Ferb much harder. Although, Phineas had not yet fully recovered, he had gotten better. Ferb, on the other hand, seems to be getting worse.

Ferb shivers. Phineas takes his blankets and throws them over Ferb.

Phineas sweeps some of Ferb's sweat matted hair off his forehead. "You'll be fine soon."

Ferb turns over and cracks open his eyes. Ferb gives him a weak smile and snuggles deeper into his bed.

"You have to get better." Phineas says. Because this was somehow his fault, he just knew it. Maybe if they hadn't spent all night watching the stars, Ferb would have been strong enough to fight off the virus when it hit. Maybe if Phineas hadn't insisted on building the mechanical zoo, then Ferb would have had been able to rest and get better instead of steadily getting worse. Maybe if Phineas paid a little more attention to his brother, and not the girl from across the street he would have noticed Ferb moving slower than normal.

Ferb pats Phineas's shoulder.

"You're right." Phineas sighs, "It's not my fault. But you still have to get better."