The most horrible moments had been the waiting.
The waiting for him to wake up, the waiting for the heart monitor to flatline, the waiting for anything. Anything that could tie the ends to this story. The waiting, the cursed waiting.
He would sit in Phineas’s room, watching his pallid step-brother’s stiff chest. There were so many tubes and wires sticking out from his body. It hurt Ferb to see him this way, so beat up and fighting so hard to live.
He strummed a few notes on his guitar.
“Hey, this goes out to the cute redhead in the crowd,” he said to Phineas’s unconscious body. The redhead did not stir.
He strummed again. “Little red fox in the late night~! He roams the forest in the dark~! All he has is the night sky’s spark~!”
He looked up from the guitar to Phineas’s body. He did not stir.
“Little red fox wondering farther and farther from his home, and the sun had set and the trees are dead and the river had gone~! Hey~ey~ey!”
Phineas did not stir.
“”Little red fox, family missing him so. Little red fox no where in sight, he went off quietly into the night~! Yet no one knew where he took flight~! Little red fox come home, little red fox come home~! Hey~ey~ey~ey, little red fox come home~!”
He made it to the bridge, and came to the final verse. “Little red fox, with the triangle nose, little red fox, we love you so~! Oh little red fox, please come home~! Oh little red fox, please come home~! Oh little red fox...” his singing trailed off. “Please...please come home.”
But Phineas did not stir. He simply laid there, unmoving.
Ferb set the guitar down, placing his face into his hands. Tears threatened in his eyes, he did not fight them. He cried quietly, so quiet that it was easy to mistake him for laughing.
He was back to the waiting, the cursed waiting.