A/ N:

Here it is, the reason why Ferb doesn't talk. Actually the inspiration came from one of my friends. She talks very rarely, and it is the for the same reason Ferb stopped talking in this story. But I don't wanna give anything away, so all I can say is I hope this doesn't disappoint.

People always asked Ferb why he didn't talk much. And, like usual, Ferb didn't have much of an answer. He had always been the silent type.

Ferb remembered what his teacher had said in his report card, right before school let out:

Ferb's great imagination and knowledge cannot make up for his lack of speech and social skills.

Ferb recalled all the times when his mother's friends would ask, behind his back, in hushed whispers:

I noticed your son is very silent…erm…is he okay?

Or the times when Mr. Fletcher would be telling one of his never- ending detailed accounts of a especially boring day, and they would giggle and say:

Well, Ferb certainly doesn't take after his father.

And Ferb vividly remembered all the times somebody would ask Phineas:

How come your brother barely ever talks? What's his problem?

And Phineas would reply, in that nice, friendly tone of his:

Ferb talks, right Ferb?

And Ferb would go:

*nod*

Phineas.

He was the only one Ferb could talk to in more than a sentence or two.

Phineas was the only one who understood.

Ferb could barely remember back in the day when he was normal, or somewhat, at least. He remembered the days back when he used to talk just as much as everybody else.

Finally, Ferb brought himself to remember the most painful thing of all…the day that stunned him into silence.

"Ferb, I have something to tell you." His father said sadly, his voice slowed and pained. On any normal circumstances, Ferb may have expected a long speech on how tuna was invented, or all the things parsnips are useful for, or perhaps a story about one of his father's fishing trips.

This was different. Ferb could tell. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach, it was twisting and turning and whirling itself into a tight knot.

Something was wrong.

Ferb knew it.

He just knew it.

"Ferb…" His father began, in a near whisper. "Ferb your mother..."

Ferb waited on, urging him to continue, dreading the words that came next.

WHAT ABOUT MUMMY? He wanted to scream, but instead, he sat there silently, patiently, not even blinking.

Mr. Fletcher cleared his throat. "She…sort of…" The last word was dragged out, dragged out so much that Ferb was about to explode, to let out a loud screech.

But Ferb remained silent.

"She sort of died, Ferb… It was a car crash….I'm sorry."

Ferb began to cry. But he didn't say anything. He didn't need to. For that moment, he didn't need to talk, nor did his father. Things were, perhaps, best left unspoken.