Wow. Two years, huh? How time flies when you're working on other things.

But I couldn't abandon Revived. Not forever. And thanks to some lovely fanartists, I finally got the inspiration I needed to continue the story! I hope you all enjoy diving back into this dark and dangerous world with me.

He came back to himself by degrees.

Slowly, slowly, Ferb opened his eye - when had it closed? The optic clicked on, and he had to turn his head away from the rain, as the droplets falling on the glass looked too strange. He was… on the sidewalk. Laying down.

Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach.

Ferb swayed to a sitting position, relying on his mechanical arm to hold himself up as the right one felt unsteady and weak.

Beneath the rain was the distinct, coppery scent of blood.

Phineas stood nearby, trembling, arms wrapped around himself. His jacket was gone. Immediately Ferb began to panic again, could feel the darkness surging up around him - what had he done? Had he hurt Phineas?

His brother turned, alarmed by the sound of Ferb's ragged breathing. His voice came swimming through the waves - "Ferb?"- and roused Ferb from his panic. He sounded fine. He looked fine, aside from the lack of his windbreaker and the way he shivered in the freezing rain.

"Phineas," Ferb breathed. "I - I thought - I blacked out again, didn't I?" His words came in sharp jerks from his throat. It was hard to speak. It was hard to think.

Phineas swallowed, then nodded. "Yeah," he said, "you did. It's okay though. Everything is going to be okay."

The tone of his voice was off-putting in a strange way, and the dread in Ferb's gut only intensified. He began to stand as Phineas approached him; the world ducked and lurched around him before wet hands grabbed his face.

"Ferb, I need you to listen to me," Phineas said, his voice coming in and out through the din of the rain. Or was that just a pounding in Ferb's ears? He tried to look around, wondering where Perry was (and Phineas's jacket), but his brother held his face hard and forced him to make eye contact.

"Phineas, ow," Ferb whined. "My jaw…"

He reached up to touch his face and felt something slick.

"Ferb, listen," Phineas repeated with a sudden urgency. "Look at me."

He pulled his hand back, and from the optic, he could see it - dark, smeared across his hand and forearm, mixing with the rain and dripping off of his skin -

"Ferb!"

Phineas's eyes were intense, his brow knitted in frustration. Ferb looked at him and tried to focus on his pupils, tried to get the scent out of his head, tried to calm his rapid breathing. The darkness came in waves lapping at the edges of his vision.

"I need you to stay with me," Phineas said, stern and sharp. "I need you to not panic. Can you do that for me? Can you keep it together?"

Ferb nodded, lips trembling.

"You blacked out," Phineas said, his thumbs now going in small circles over Ferb's cheeks. "But I have everything under control. I need you to understand that we're going to be fine. Okay?"

Ferb nodded again, and with a considerable amount of effort, used every trick and coping method he knew to quell his anxiety at that moment. He had clearly had a fight response, as flight wouldn't have left him on the sidewalk… Had Perry kicked him again?

"Perry," he gasped.

"Perry's fine," Phineas assured, holding Ferb's face too tight again as he attempted to look for their pet. "He's okay. Don't worry about Perry."

Once more Ferb returned his gaze to Phineas. "Then what did I…?"

Why is he hurting you?

Oh god.

...that thing…

Django.

"Where is he?" Ferb hissed, wrenching himself away from Phineas and walking around him. This wasn't good, oh no, but if he just focused on stopping Django before he managed to share his tale with anyone, maybe he could keep his panic at bay. "Did he -"

The words died in Ferb's throat as his eye fell to the circle of light cast by the nearby streetlamp. He had found Phineas's windbreaker, and with it, a sight he would not soon forget.

His brother's voice came swimming through the shadows again. "I covered him so you wouldn't… see everything," Phineas said as he turned and put a hand on Ferb's back. "I hoped maybe it would help you not panic…"

Ferb put a hand over his mouth, his eye welling up with fresh tears, sharp and stinging.

The face and torso were covered by Phineas's jacket, but the rest was laid bare in a thick pool of blood and rainwater. Gore covered the ground; the poor young man had been beaten so hard that things had burst out of him, bones and guts and so much blood. How long had Ferb been on him? What had stopped him?

He looked to the curb, where Perry sat, staring into the drain below.

"Perry?" Ferb murmured past his fingers.

The platypus seemed to hesitate, then looked back at him with haunted eyes.

"He stopped you," Phineas confirmed as their pet stood on all fours and began to approach them. "It just… it was too late…"

Perry thunked his head against Ferb's shin, and Ferb choked back the bile rising in his throat.

All of it was… surreal, so unfathomable in its extremity that Ferb felt like he couldn't panic like all he could do was stare in horror at what had happened. At what he had done. He'd never seen Baljeet and Buford again, had no idea of the extent of the damage to them, but this…

"We're getting soaked," Phineas sighed next to him. "I'm freezing. We should get moving."

Ferb turned his head, his optic lighting up Phineas's face in the darkness. "M-moving?" he whispered. "Phineas, I… I just… I killed…" He choked on his own words, then clapped a hand over his mouth before stumbling awkwardly towards the grass.

Phineas stood off to the side as Ferb heaved, rubbing his arms and looking unperturbed.

"I guess I should have seen this coming, to be honest," he said, his voice distant and cold, so unlike the sunshine boy he had been - hell, still was, most of the time. "I should have done more to prevent it. I just - Ferb, I want things to go back to normal." He laughed, then, a strange mix of mirth and aggravation. "You were right. I'm impatient."

Brownish-black sludge dripped from Ferb's lips as he hovered over the grass, hands on his knees. The stench of it all was overpowering. His vomit, the blood, the gore… He welcomed the rain, prayed it would wash it away. Wash everything away.

"I guess this is what impatience gets me," Phineas grunted as he gave Django's corpse an annoyed look. "Now we have to take care of this."

"...How?" Ferb croaked as he wobbled back into an upright position. "We can't just… we can't… People will notice he's gone…"

His brother looked over at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "Gone?" he repeated. "Geez, Ferb - who do you think I am? We're not gonna dispose of him. Django is our friend."

His use of the present tense made Ferb's stomach lurch.

"Phineas…"

Phineas held up his hands. "Look, I know you don't really like all this stuff, but I'm figuring it out, okay? He'll be a good experiment on how to improve the whole system, and then I'll have an even better handle on helping you. We can turn this into a good thing."

Ferb searched Phineas's face for something - anything - a sign that he wasn't serious. He couldn't be serious.

He was, though. And Ferb knew it.

Phineas's fragile little world revolved around Ferb now; even the death of a close friend couldn't change that. Django's death was, at worst, an inconvenience; at best, an opportunity. It was horrifying to know that Phineas thought that way.

And yet, despite it all, Ferb still loved him - as a brother, as a lover, as a person. He couldn't bring himself to stop. He'd never been able to stop.

"Okay," Ferb breathed.

Phineas beamed at him. "Great!" he said, clapping his hands together. "Now then, we need to get out of this rain - and get him out of here before anyone sees him." He looked over at Django thoughtfully, then ran a hand through his wet bangs. "Okay. Um. You stay here, and… I'll go get the wagon."

Ferb sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment. Then, with great reluctance, he said, "No… no, don't do that. It'll take too long. And the wagon will be loud, bumping over the sidewalk."

"Then what should we do?"

In the dim light of the moon, body silhouetted by the streetlamp, Phineas's eyes were shining. He was excited to have Ferb speaking up, stepping in. Having an idea. He looked so endearing, but it was hard to focus on that with the stench of death hanging in the air.

Ferb sighed. "I… I did this. I'll take care of him," he said. "I'll carry him home. You keep watch and make sure no one else comes across us." It took so much effort to stamp down his anxiety and anguish, but having a plan helped; it always had.

A worried look crossed Phineas's face. "Ah...hm. Is that such a good idea?" He looked at Django again, then back to Ferb. "I… Ferb, you really can't panic here. And if you lift him up, he might not… Things might… Well, it might not all hold together, you know?"

The thought was sickening and made Ferb's stomach tumble, but he managed to keep it together, one hand pressed to his abdomen as he closed his eye. "I… I can keep it together," he said. "I know what has to be done. I can't panic. If I did, I…"

He looked at Phineas, into his eyes.

"I would never forgive myself," he finished in a soft whisper.

Of course, he couldn't forgive himself for this, either, and the following nights would surely be spent in utter despair over what he had done, but… He couldn't think of that. Not right now. The more important thought was that, if he allowed himself to fall victim to his feelings now, he could very well tear apart his precious sibling just as he had done with Django.

Phineas gave Ferb a sympathetic look, then stepped forward and carefully wrapped both arms around Ferb's torso. He was soaked through and still trembling, but it felt so good to be comforted that Ferb practically melted into his embrace as he returned the gesture.

They stayed like that for only a few moments before Ferb forced himself to pull away. "We better get moving," he said. "Come on."

Phineas nodded, then leaned over and picked up Perry, who had hardly moved since he'd ambled over to them. He seemed exhausted, and no longer interested in holding up any semblance of being a dumb animal - Ferb could see it in his eyes. He had to stop himself from thinking about it too much.

In the light of the streetlamp, drenched in rainwater and blood, Ferb towered over the mangled body of Django Brown. He could feel a sharp sting behind his eye as he clenched his fists and forced himself to look at what he'd done. The optic, as always, picked out every little detail; up close, it was horrific. The windbreaker could only cover so much. Ferb let out a shuddering breath and crouched down.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to his friend as he slipped his arms under the legs and back.

He leaned on his mechanical leg as he stood, and it was near-effortless - was it because of the strength of the leg, or the decreased mass of Django's body? Ferb squeezed his eye shut, optic clicking off, as several things slid away and wetly plopped into the blood and water below.

Phineas came close, Perry over his shoulder and not looking. "Don't worry," he said. "I don't need those. Just start towards home, I'll get rid of this."

"How?" Ferb asked, his voice shaking. The stench was so close now…

Phineas nudged Ferb out of the way, then began kicking the gore into the drain, staining his shoes with blood.

"Don't worry about it," he repeated as he looked over his shoulder at Ferb. "Get going. A car could come at any moment."

Ferb swallowed hard, nodded, and began walking back in the direction of home. Behind him, Phineas kicked the leftover scraps of Django's cellphone into the gutter.

Isabella slowly lowered her phone away from her ear, then cut off Django's voicemail message by ending the call. She leaned back against the wall as she stared down at the screen, waiting, hoping he would call back.

Around the corner, in the living room, things were still tense.

"He's just late," said Irving with a sigh. "Like this has never happened before."

Baljeet shook his head. "You do not understand," he said. "Things are different now. It is not safe out there, and he has been gone too long."

"Not safe?" Irving gave Baljeet an incredulous look. "Just because of Ferb? What do you think he is, some rampaging monster?"

"That's what we saw," Buford grunted as he put a gentle hand on Baljeet's shoulder. "And you an' Isabella saw him out there, right? Phineas is lettin' him go free and Django might be out there."

Irving scoffed and folded his arms."You're being paranoid," he said as he leaned back against the arm of the couch. He was fidgeting, though, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal.

"Wish that's all it was," said Buford.

The Fireside Girls tittered amongst themselves nearby. Irving couldn't hear what they were saying, but a few of them glanced his way now and then, giving him looks that made him almost feel bad for trying to stick up for Phineas and Ferb. How could he not, though? They were his friends. Had been his idols once. They couldn't honestly be as bad as everyone was making them out to be… Surely there was an explanation for everything that had happened so far.

He just couldn't think of it.

Baljeet looked about to say something again when Isabella returned from the hallway, holding her phone out in front of her and looking down at it in dismay. All eyes were on her near-instantly.

Irving's defensive posture fell, and he slumped against the back of the couch. "...He didn't answer, did he?"

Isabella shook her head.

"It's time we go find him, then," said Gretchen as she pushed herself off of the floor and up onto her feet. "We'll go to his house ,y we'll see him on the way there."

"But it's pouring out there!" Irving protested.

"It was raining when you showed up," Gretchen shot back. "Didn't you bring an umbrella?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Then you'll be fine," Isabella cut in, her voice wavering. "Gretchen is right, we need to go out and find him ourselves. Maybe he's fine, maybe he's just late, maybe his phone is just dead, but…" She clutched her phone near her chest and looked out the window into the dark night.

They all felt it. It hung in the air, a thick storm cloud made of fear and danger. Even Irving could feel the changes. Everything was different now like the world had tilted out from under their feet and throw them into unknown space. It had started with the accident and Phineas's descent into instability.

Where would it end?

"What do we do if we run into them?" Ginger asked, breaking the sudden silence.

Isabella sighed and looked down at her phone again. No missed calls.

"Whatever we have to do."

Ferb walked quickly through the darkened yards of their quiet suburbs, the body bouncing in his arms as he tried to make his way towards home. Phineas jogged behind, stopping from time to time either to catch his breath or to scout the area. Perry remained in Phineas's arms, perfectly silent.

The rain was relentless.

Django felt too light. For someone his height, he should have been heavier. It was sickening to think of how much of his mess may have fallen away as he had been lifted… or been ripped from him in the attack. Ferb dreaded what might be underneath Phineas's windbreaker. He had seen some intense things over the years, but this was something else, an entirely different beast.

In the back of Ferb's mind, the nightmare from that first night flickered like a dying light. The gore he had seen, couldn't have possibly seen… Was Django worse than that?

Probably, he thought, his stomach clenching uncomfortably.

They had been friends. Django wasn't a usual part of their group, but he was still in it. They had helped him connect with his dad as children, and had brought him along for a few more adventures over the years. He liked them, trusted them. And Ferb had torn him apart like wet toilet paper.

His mind was an ouroboros, going in an endless, destructive circle.

Ferb sharply shook his head, water spraying everywhere. He couldn't do this. Not now, anyway. Later, when things were more stable, maybe. Now, though, he had to get home, get Django wherever Phineas wanted him. And he couldn't think about that, either, about the horrible things Phineas intended to do. It was easier to just go along with it, to accept it for what it was and do as he was told.

Hadn't it always been that way?

"Ferb!" Phineas hissed through the darkness.

Ferb came to a halt, glancing back to watch his brother struggle to catch up. Then he looked forward, and with his attention back on the real world, it was easy to see what Phineas was trying to alert him to. They were just a few houses down from their own - and Isabella's, the lights of which were on, shadows converging at the windows.

Ferb swore under his breath.

As Phineas caught up, the front door opened, and a few people began to step out into the rain. Ferb's optic clicked off as he told his brain to close the eye that was no longer there. It was too bright, too obvious - they would be spotted in an instant.

"Fuck," Phineas whispered. Ferb shot him an unnoticed look. "What do we do now? They're going to see us…"

There was a beat of silence as umbrellas unfurled up the street. Then, thinking as fast as he could, Ferb replied: "We have to distract them."

Before Phineas could react, Ferb looked down to the attentive animal in his arms and jerked his head towards the group of people emerging from Isabella's house. Phineas looked down in shock as Perry responded by jumping out of his grasp and starting down the road.

"Come on," Ferb murmured, and Phineas could only nod before following close behind as they headed for their backyard.

Whatever Ferb knew, Perry was too tired to hide, at least not fully. He just didn't have the energy. The night had taken too drastic a turn, and disguising how he felt was too hard, and too pointless.

He had been too late. He had attacked Ferb, struck him in the same place as before, but the boy - Django - it was too late.

He chattered as he approached the group, then sat down in the wet grass.

"Perry?" Isabella inquired, surprised. All eyes came down on him as he sat placidly before them.

"Wonder what he's doing here," said Irving. "Is he doing one of his disappearing acts on the guys?"

Perry kept his eyes in opposite directions even as Buford and Baljeet moved through the group to approach him. He wondered if they knew he had saved them. Not in time to avoid the injuries they had suffered, but things could have been so much worse - he knew that now. Had seen it unfold before his eyes in a matter of seconds.

"That might not be a good thing," Buford said, hesitant and unsure. "I mean… think about it… Say Phineas can't find 'im right now. That means he's far away. Which means…"

"They might be outside," Isabella gasped.

Panic rose in Perry's chest. He had to act fast; there was no way the boys were done with what they needed to do, even if they had made it into the backyard already. Just as Isabella began to step forward, Perry jumped to his feet and darted past her, back into her house.

"Perry!" she exclaimed.

The group turned, as predicted, and Isabella shouldered her way through the crowd to follow him as he ran into her living room.

A loud yelp startled Perry to a halt.

There, cowering in a corner and looking like he was staring down the Grim Reaper, was Pinky.

"A-Agent P!" Pinky whined, quivering more than usual. "I-I haven't been in your yard again, I swear! I haven't even been assigned to watch you! Poofenplotz has been -"

Perry glanced back at the group of young adults, then looked at Pinky. "That's not why I'm here, Pinky," he chattered as reassuringly as he could manage. "I forgive you, okay? I know the OWCA sent you on that mission."

"Pinky, what's wrong?" Isabella asked, clearly alarmed but coming no closer.

"Calm down," Perry insisted. He couldn't have Isabella thinking he was menacing her dog. He didn't want to be perceived as a threat - at least not now.

Slowly, Pinky's shuddering seemed to calm, and he removed his tail from between his legs. He let out a deep breath, then took one step closer before freezing up. Perry's brow knitted as he saw the fur on Pinky's back stand on end. He chattered, confused.

"You smell like death," Pinky whimpered.

"Are they… talking?" asked one of the Fireside Girls as Perry's eyes widened in sudden realization.

The rain had masked it, but his fur was waterproof. It would already be washing away, leaving behind the unmistakable stench -

Pinky barked.

"Pinky, calm down!" Perry repeated urgently. "It's just - I'm sure you know by now, I'm sure you heard about Ferb from Isabella -"

"It isn't him!" Pinky snapped, his body quaking again, hackles raised high. "He's stale and metal! You smell like something fresh, like something…" He paused, and then his bulging eyes went wider than Perry knew they could go.

"Django."

Of course. This meeting Isabella was having - hadn't Django mentioned it? And Pinky would have been at her feet the whole time, listening to everything. He knew Django was missing. And now, now he could smell it on Perry, the distinct scent of having hovered over the corpse, looking down in horror at what his boy had done as blood rushed past his feet and into the gutter…

Pinky took a few steps back until his tail was against the wall. "I have to tell the OWCA," he whined in a rush. "I have to report this. He attacked Buford and Baljeet, and I only had Isabella's word to go on, I didn't tell them, but this -"

"Pinky, please!" Perry begged, stepping forward only to have Pinky reel away from him. "It isn't what you think! No one is dead!"

"Your kid is," Pinky shot back, "And now… now he's… He's evil! And he has to be stopped!"

The little dog made as though to move around Perry, and suddenly, everything was a blur.

Isabella shrieked as Perry slammed into Pinky and dug his claws into his short fur. Pinky howled, then tried to wrestle away; he quickly went from a struggling dog to a trained agent, but it was no use. Perry was more trained than he was. He stopped Pinky at every turn, claws and teeth and tail, moving too fast and too ferociously for Isabella to get in and remove either of them.

He needed to stop Pinky, needed to put him out of commission without killing him. Pinky could not get back to the OWCA with news of what he smelled, not now, not yet. Not before Phineas had a chance to fix this.

Pinky tried to slip out of Perry's grip, and in a desperate attempt to make him go down, Perry shoved him to the ground before striking Pinky's side with the back of one of his hind feet - where his venomous spurs were.

The tiny dog squealed in agony as Perry finally jumped away.

Isabella was yelling something. Irving tried to grab Perry, but he darted away, then sprinted through the throng of people and back out into the rainy night. His heart was beating a furious tattoo against his ribs, his fingers stained with the blood of someone he had always considered a friend.

There was no turning back now.

The lights of the Flynn-Fletcher house were out, save those of Candace's bedroom and the master bedroom. In the dark kitchen, lit only by Ferb's optic, the boys toweled themselves off. Ferb sat at the table; Phineas paced, restless, expression one of deep thought.

Perry came through the cat door and skidded into sight, shaking Phineas from his thoughts. "Oh, there you are, Perry," he said as their pet cowered behind Ferb's legs. "What happened over there?"

Perry had no answers.

There was a heavy silence as Ferb looked down at Perry and Phineas resumed his pacing. Then, in a choked voice, Ferb finally asked, "Now what?"

Phineas hummed.

"I need to do some laundry," he murmured, his rubber soles squeaking on the linoleum as he turned on his heel. "Gather some things… Figure some stuff out."

"Laundry?"

Phineas glanced up. "Well, yeah," he said, as though it were obvious. "My coat is gross. I love that jacket, I have to clean it."

Ferb pulled his lips into a thin line.

"And we want some fresh clothes anyway," Phineas continued with a sigh. "I think…" He trailed off, uncertain.

"You think…?" Ferb prompted.

His brother shook his head and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his narrow chest, towel hanging from one hand. "I could barely make out what they were saying, but I heard Django's name," he said. "They're out looking for him. They're going to find out he's missing. His family, too. And then the whole town. I can only work so fast, and something tells me you're not going to be able to help."

Ferb looked away.

"So I need someone else's help," Phineas continued. "And…" He gritted his teeth as if what he had to say was a difficult thing to admit. Then, "Maybe we should lay low for a while."

"I'm sorry," Ferb whispered.

Phineas gave him a surprised look. "Huh? Dude, it's not - I mean, I don't blame you. I just think… maybe we should stay out of everyone's way for a little bit. The way he reacted to you, the way everyone has reacted… Maybe they all need some time."

It was the sanest thing Phineas had said all week.

"...Are we leaving?" Ferb asked, looking up to watch Phineas's face.

Phineas gnawed on his bottom lip. "Maybe," he said. "We'll see. I have to make a call." He crossed his ankles, then glanced over at a clock on the wall. "Crap. It's late. I'm too wired to sleep anyway… What about you?"

Ferb sighed through his nose and put his elbow on the table so he could rest his cheek in his hand. "I'm exhausted," he admitted, voice soft and forlorn.

"Then you get some rest," Phineas said with a somewhat-strained smile. "I'll make some preparations. Get that call done. Hope it's not too late…"

Ferb glanced out the window to the roof of the shed. Then, hesitant, he asked, "What about… him? Are we just going to leave him here…?"

"We have to," Phineas said with a small nod. "He'll be fine. Go upstairs and take a nap, okay? I'll wake you up when I need to."

Ferb had questions, but he was too tired and too distraught to ask them. He knew that, despite everything that had happened, Phineas knew what he was doing. He would fix this. Somehow, he would fix this.

Ferb had to believe that.

He slowly stood to his feet, then ducked down and scooped Perry up off of the floor. The platypus offered no resistance, and curled against Ferb's chest, his eyes wide and pulse hammering under his thick fur. Ferb felt bad for making him do the distraction… but at least it had worked. Perry was smart enough to know what to do, somehow.

As Ferb and Perry departed, heading upstairs, Phineas strolled over to the table and pulled his phone out of the pocket of his bloodied windbreaker. He scrolled through his contacts, then stopped on one he'd yet to call, granted in case he needed somebody to talk to.

He pressed his finger to the number, then held the phone up to his ear and looked out the window into the inky night.