A/N
A few weeks early… I couldn't resist, I'm sorry guys. On this story, I will be answering reviews through the email function. Sorry to the rest of you who aren't registered, but after reading the rules, I am technically not allowed to post replies within the story, and it takes up too much space. Anywho, welcome back, new readers and old. If you haven't read Titanium, I highly recommend it, otherwise nearly all of this story will not make sense. The name of the organization is relevant, not just a random word I picked, so I'd like to see what you guys think it stands for or means. I will be incredibly impressed if someone gets it. Just to address some issues from last time, I understand some people may dislike my writing style, and by all means, they may, I'm not stopping them. Just please don't expect me to change the way I write for one person who doesn't like it, when others are enjoying the story. And I finally decided upon a title, which is, like the last one, inspired by a song which I felt was relevant. It's by Rise Against if you would like to listen to it. Enough rambling from me now, so please enjoy.
I do not own Phineas and Ferb.

3 days earlier…

He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, as the British 17-year-old trawled through jewellery shop after jewellery shop, searching desperately for the perfect engagement ring. It haunted him all the way through his hunt, and upon finding the perfect ring, he began to walk home, but down the dark, dimly lit streets. Because if he was to pull out his follower, or followers, it would be somewhere where no-one could see them. He knew they'd probably attack, he hoped they'd attack. People had a thing for underestimating his strength. And ever since what happened only a few weeks ago, he'd been continually on guard, prepared for anything. Because it didn't feel like a jealousy thing, it felt like something more, something so much more. And he wasn't about to ignore his instincts now. They'd served him well enough lately.

And just as he'd expected, his followers struck out. The green haired teenager knocked one of them out with a left hook and uppercut under the chin, and simply stared at the other one, clearly caught off guard by the boy's response. He walked toward his other follower, towering him, the lighting conveniently making him look far more menacing than what he actually was.

"Who do you work for?" He growled, the thick British accent expressing every syllable. The smaller man, clad in black, began to tremor, and whimper slightly. He shrunk down, standing in the taller teenager's shadow, his breathing growing heavy.

"M-MORI. I didn't want to do this, they forced me! They're coming for you! Soon, you have to run, they're coming! You can't beat them this time, and they'll get you!" The teenager didn't falter in his physical expression, but inside, his worry began to develop, manifesting into a persistent fly, refusing to ever leave him, constantly clouding his every thought.

"When." He said, rather bluntly, still glaring down at the quivering man.

"When you go to propose to her. They know everything, you can't hide. Only hope you'll outrun them. They've been watching you, they've been watching you all!" The man's voice was shaky, yet the words flowed like they were rehearsed, never slowing until he'd finished. Clearly, he'd prepared for this outcome, no matter how likely.

"Run. Take him, and run. And don't tell them you told me anything." The teenager walked off into the night, the shadows hiding him from view, leaving the quivering man and his unconscious friend alone. Between his hands, the British boy rubbed a small velvet box, and a little part of him hurt at having to wait longer for his loved one's hand. As long as she was safe though, that was his primary concern. And what that man, his stalker, had said had worried him massively. Because, as much as he didn't want his primary concern confirmed, it turned out he was right. This was far bigger than he could, or any of them could have imagined. And that was one far bigger too many for his liking. Because it simply meant his loved ones were in more danger, there was bound to be hurt, betrayal, separation, and a whole hoard of psychotic villains. Something he really did not want. And they'd barely won last time, only just scraping by without any deaths. So they didn't stand a chance this time, unless… No. The second dimension was off limits, wasn't it? Or maybe, just maybe if he was lucky, they were already involved. Or going to become involved of their own accord.

And as he walked back home, so many thoughts, terrifying, worse-case scenario thoughts haunted his mind. But at least he was prepared.

So when he was ambushed three days later, Ferb Fletcher was prepared. He breathed the sleeping gas in with a smile. He thought of his plan on manipulating this to his benefit with a smile. And he fell with a smile.