Ferb rolled out of the unfamiliar bed he woke up in next to the equally unfamiliar woman he'd woken up next to.
Shit… I've got to quit drinking.
He thought as he looked his bed-mate up and down.
This seemed to be becoming almost a nightly thing. It seemed like every morning he was in a different bed, with a different woman, who never seemed to be as drop dead gorgeous as she'd appeared the night before. Probably because of the adverse influence of being intoxicated.
Being very careful not to wake up the girl he slowly creeped up to the door as he simultaneously slipped his clothes on.
"Ferb? Ferb, where are you going?" The girl mumbled half asleep.
He hated this part.
"Home."
"But don't you want to stay a little longer?"
"No."
"You don't even have my phone number!"
"I wasn't planning on asking for it. Thank you, for last night. Have a good rest of your life." He said as he smoothly put on his shirt. Without another word he threw open the door and left, closing it gently behind him. Maybe, she'd just go back to sleep.
He heard crying from inside the door.
Or maybe she'd sob hysterically. He sighed softly. Everything that was moral in him wanted to go back and comfort her, but every logical piece of him told him to stay away. She'd just get clingy and beg him not to go once he left again, and it would just end up being that much harder.
He'd done this at least a hundred times in the past year.
When he was a child he wouldn't have even thought of doing such things. Then again a child never really thinks about having random drunk sex with a woman in her mid thirties, do they?
After his parents had gotten a divorce his dad had been miserable for years. The divorce was mostly Linda's idea, and she was the one that caused the marriage to collapse into ruin in the first place. It was all his ex-stepmother's fault.
His dad more or less stopped paying attention to him and just immersed himself in his own sorrow. Phineas at first had put his time into making useful inventions, but it just wasn't the same when he was alone.
After a few years he'd invented everything he could possibly imagine and was bored with all of it. Who really need a toaster that ran on vegetable oil? Not him.
That's when he started putting his creative energy into less constructive pursuits. Like beautiful women and beer. Why not put that "charming" and "oh so sexy" British accent of his to some good use?
Growing up he'd always been quiet, sweet, and overall just your typical nice guy. He lived by the rule that it's better to learn by listening than bother others by talking about his own issues. He wasn't really close with anyone, but that was fine by him. He didn't need anyone.
He was socially awkward and to some extent enjoyed isolation from his peers. There was no one to hurt him, betray him, or play with his emotions. He never let any of them get close enough to his heart.
Then he moved in with Phineas.
Phineas seemed to instantly love everything and everyone. He was a very positive, light, spirit. Naïve and child like even as they grew older.
Ferb had never let him in either, but he didn't have to. Phineas loved him anyway, and after a while Ferb started to value him on some level. That was the first time he'd ever cared about anyone on an at all personal level. Most of the time he just cared about himself and sometimes his dad. Everyone else could fall of the face of the earth and he wouldn't care at all.
Phineas changed that in a way. He made Ferb actually come to give a damn about another human being, though Ferb didn't always show it. They grew up together. They were brothers, not by blood but by bond.
Ferb found himself opening up a little, and once he opened that door… it suddenly wasn't just Phineas anymore. It was Linda. Candace. Isabella. Baljeet. Buford. Everyone.
For some reason when he was with Phineas being friendly toward others became much easier for him.
That endless summer… those were the best days of his life. He was happy, and he had friends. He loved that piece of his life. He cherished the experience even now.
Then he turned thirteen and the divorce hit, and hit hard.
His life just went to hell from there. He left the neighborhood and lost Phineas, his best friend, his brother. He lost all his friends. It was easily one of the worst ordeals of his life.
He never really saw any of them again. Sometimes he saw Isabella just walking through town. At least he thought it was her anyway. Everyone probably looked entirely different after puberty.
She looked healthy and relatively happy on the rare occasions when he caught a glimpse of her at the store or just crossing the street. He never called to her. He saw no reason to. She was just another thing of the past, just another memory. She probably was nothing like she was back then. Time changes people.
He wondered if she ever told Phineas how she felt. He always knew he'd just break her heart. Phineas never thought about things like girls. He viewed Isabella as a good friend, not a romantic partner. Secretly he had always wished she'd just come out and say it. The longer she drew it out the more she'd get hurt in the end.
Then again maybe Phineas had changed too. Maybe he thought about girls and things that didn't involve fun in the sun now. A lot could change in a couple years.
Ferb had changed. For starters he was back to the closed off little kid he was when he was young, just in a sixteen year old boys body. He'd lost his virginity to a sleazy tramp a little over a year and a half ago. He liked the sensation, and honestly could care less about the girls. So he fucked a new girl every night and moved on by the next morning. Half of them he probably wouldn't pursue if it weren't for alcohol.
He talked a little more. He was still a man of action with little use for his vocal cords, but he used them a tad bit more often. How else can you fuck girls if you can't turn on the charm of the British accent?
His whole life had pretty much turned to booze, sex, and apathy. He kind of liked it that way.
He hated it when the girls woke up before he got out the door like she had today. He couldn't remember her name. Not that he really ever did.
He hated leaving them crying. He did have a heart after all. He normally just shook the vague feeling of guilt away and ran off into the swiftly approaching dawn never to return.
He knew he was a douche bag but he did not care. Guys did it all the time. Why shouldn't he?
This morning was no different than any other morning.
Like every other morning he shrugged his shoulders, tried to ignore her pathetic wailing, and walked to the nearest bus stop. If it weren't a Saturday he would have been seriously late for school. Not that he really cared.
What was the point of caring about anything anymore?
This fic is rated teen for a reason, so don't bash me about this chapter. Keep in mind he's not the 11 year old boy for the show anymore, and everyone's changed quite a bit. All characters are 16 at this point and Ferb is obviously… breeding like no tomorrow. This is probably about as graphic as it'll get (aside from profanity). If you're not mature enough to handle it then you're not mature enough to handle it.