"Wake up, Phineas!"

Phineas jolted awake, rolling out of bed onto his feet in an automatic defensive movement. But it was only Candace, looking into his room and smiling widely, clearly amused by his response. He smiled back, just a little, at the expression he knew wouldn't have existed before last night's curious bonding session. "Sorry, I wanted to wake you up earlier, but you slept through my shower for once and I thought you could use more sleep." Her voice betrayed an odd hesitation, something like lying, but he didn't notice. He gasped quietly, surprised that he'd overslept. That never happened. Still, he felt better than he had in ages, like he could run a marathon, invent anything. She smiled sheepishly at his expression, perhaps mistaking it for irritation. "Don't worry," she told him hastily. "You've still got an hour to get ready for school. I wouldn't wake you up that late."

He glance at his bedside clock. Actually, he had about fifteen minutes, since he had to get to school early today. Not that Candace could have known. Cursing under his breath, he quickly removed his pajamas and traded them out for his school uniform. He was slipping the shirt over his head as he ran/stumbled down the stairs, Candace following and seeming thoroughly confused.

"I've gotta get to school early today. In about ten minutes," he mumbled.

"What? Why?"

"A teacher wants to see me about a paper I turned in." That was a lie; he had to deliver his personally Doofensmirtz-approved excusal from the school he'd missed to avoid being publically (and painfully) humiliated. But she couldn't know that.

Still, her expression darkened with worry and something else, and he felt a brief stab of guilt. "I'll give you a ride."

"I was going to walk…" he trailed off as he hastily brushed his mop of red hair. "But considering the time, yeah, a ride would be good."

Candace hurried through the rest of her routine of a simple breakfast of bread and milk as he downed a cup of coffee. She normally disapproved of this, but offered no resistance as she ushered him hurriedly into her car. As she put the key in, a voice rang out from what was once the radio.

"Unscheduled Vehicle Use. Please provide an explanation."

Candace was already putting the car into drive so she'd be able to hurry once it was authorized. "Vehicle use required for immediate transportation." Under her breath, she swore and then added, "Compensation will be provided."

"Vehicle Use Authorized. Compensation has been removed from your account. Have a nice day." The car lurched immediately and they were off, Candace probably speeding but not seeming to care much. They were, after all, in a hurry, and Phineas grinned and stifled a laugh at her slightly maniacal, serious expression. That felt odd, too. He hadn't laughed in forever. Still, it felt nice.

"Here we are," she said with a grin, pulling to a stop in front of the school. She glanced at the dashboard clock. "And with three minutes to spare, too."

Phineas nodded thankfully at her as he got out. "Thanks Candace." He thought about telling her he loved her; he didn't.

"No problem. Now hurry up so you don't get punished for being late." She moved her hands in a "shoo-ing" movement, to which he smiled and walked into the school. At the door, she called out, hesitantly, "Phineas…be…be strong, okay?" He merely nodded, in a hurry, and rushed to the office. He pushed open the cool, heavy door and looked inside, eyes settling on the woman that sat behind the desk, her bright, curly red hair tied into a tight, severe ponytail. He breathed a sigh of relief; at least it wasn't Mrs. Bitters. She looked up from her paperwork at him, a wide smile blossoming on her face.

"Hi, Phineas, what can I do for you?" She was probably the only nice teacher at this hellish school, and he had a hunch that she worked hard at that.

"Hi, Miss Frizzle. I just need to turn in a pass for some school I missed yesterday." Her smile dissipated for just a moment before reaffirming itself on her face. She held out her hand and he dropped the card into it, waiting patiently while she scanned it through the computer and then typed busily away on the keyboard, expression scrunching up into animated irritation or confusion now and again.

"Well, Phineas, you're all clear," She said after a long while. He looked at the clock – it had taken nearly half an hour. She glanced at the card again, expression pained, before muttering, "Usually, I encourage kids to try new things, even if it means making mistakes. But, Phineas…" she lowered her voice further, leaning in to whisper to him, "Doofensmirtz is dangerous…you shouldn't associate with him if you can help it."

Phineas merely nodded in assent, because she was right. He was dangerous; he knew that all too well. And that was exactly why he had to associate with him.

He heard her sigh in concern as he walked out the door and resisted to urge to turn around and explain it to her – explain everything. But he couldn't. As easy as confiding in a random teacher would be, if Doofensmirtz found out, she'd be "removed from the equation" before he could blink twice. Besides, what could she do to help him? There was nobody, it seemed, who could. Still, this couldn't dampen his mood for long. Yesterday had been nice, if a bit confusing, and even in its rush, the morning had offered him and Candace time to get even closer.

He walked through the hallways and settled into his seat for first hour, staring out the window. He was the first to arrive. Odd. Baljeet, at least, was usually here by now. He always came to school early.

As though on cue, Baljeet entered, head hung low to hide his eyes, shoulders slumped. Phineas was immediately alarmed. Baljeet, even now, still always found a certain amount of joy in school and learning; he never came to school without a smile. To see him like this…something awful must have happened.

Baljeet took his seat, shoulders shaking and breaths coming in short gasps.

"Bal…Baljeet?" Phinease said quietly.

Baljeet looked up, revealing tears coming down his face, sliding quickly down his cheeks and being replaced with fresh ones. "Y-yes, Phineas?"

"What's wrong?" he asked. Miss Finster glared at them but made no move to punish them. It was, technically, before school, but she still could have; luckily, while a bit crotchety, she was hardly sadistic. Baljeet lowered his voice to answer.

"You didn't…you didn't see?" Baljeet sounded pain and perhaps a little resentful.

"See what?"

Irving walked in, not sparing either a glance, but that would be because his eyes were glassy and red. He sat down mechanically, expression numb, eyes unfocused. He stared straight through the blackboard, unmoving, barely blinking. Something seemed stiff about his movements; unnatural.

"Before…school."

"I came early. What's going on?"

Others entered then, the bus had probably just arrived, but the only ones of real interest were Addyson, Milly, and Katie. Addyson was the most noticeable, loud sobs wracking her chest and making her convulse. As soon as she reached her desk, her face was buried in her hands, sobs not quieting. Her shoulders shook. The other girls were much the same, and while they weren't all sobbing, they were all clearly extremely distressed. Miss Finster didn't make any attempt to stop then, expression softening a mite.

"There was…" Baljeet trailed off, a fresh wave of tears overtaking him. Her managed to gasp out, "A…fire…"

Phineas' eyes widened. "Where? Baljeet, where?"

"…Isa…Isabella's house."

Phineas' world stopped in that instant. He felt sick and dizzy. The classroom was spinning around him and Baljeet's words were echoing in his head. His hands grabbed onto the desk as though to hold himself in place. No, no, no, no… It wasn't just a fire. No one would be weeping over a fire, the loss of a house. Tragic, sure, but not worth crying over. The fire had…

"She…they think she started it herself…her whole house…there was an ambulance there, but it was…" He stopped, shaking his head. He turned away from him to stare at his desk, tears no longer falling, teeth clenched, as other students filed in.

Phineas was barely aware of it. If he'd been capable of moving, he'd have ran from the room, broken something, hit someone, maybe. But he was rooted in his seat, unmoving. Unfeeling. His emotions and mind, it seemed, had shut down. He couldn't deal with this again. This was exactly what he'd been trying so hard to avoid – someone else he cared about disappearing. Not disappeared, dead, you have to come to terms with it, she is dead. He shook his head rapidly, tears slipping down his cheeks as a million screams died in his throat before he could voice them.

You're in shock, the analytical, rational part of his mind was kind enough to inform him.

She's dead, the emotional side wailed.

Calm down, breathe.

Ferb is dead and Perry is dead and Isabella is dead.

In, out. Inhale, exhale. Calm down. You have to breathe.

And breathe he did, in shuddering, desperate gasps. Baljeet glanced at him, concern clear through his reddened eyes, but Phineas didn't notice. He drifted through the day like a drunk. His best friend was dead. His best friend had, in all likelihood, committed suicide. His best friend was dead and the last words he'd said to her was to tell her that he didn't care about her at all. His best friend had died hating him and believing that he hated her, too. His best friend and his brother and his pet were all dead and any more could die at any second.

He ran to the bathroom at the end of the school day to be sick.

And that was where it occurred to him. Doofensmirtz had asked, just recently about her birthday. He had shown no lack of desire for carnage. Staging a fire would be just exactly like him; killing her would be just perfect. But why? What did he have to gain? He must have seen his and Candace's bonding session the night before, but that still wouldn't explain why he'd killed Isabella. Had he hoped that her death would close him off even more, would drive him back into unfeeling hiding, make him even more fearful then before?

Phineas clenched his teeth, his vision blurring through a haze of red. If that was what he'd thought, he had another thing coming.