Snapshots

55. Quarantine

Phineas held the large notepad up to the window. The binocular like glasses strapped to his head let him see the frown on Isabella's face when she read it. Lowing her own, not strapped on binoculars, she grabbed her notepad to write back.

There were other, more hi-tech ways they could communicate, but after a week, they were all bored and this was more fun.

He put down the notepad with a sigh before sitting on his bed. It would take Isabella a few minutes to have a response ready if she continued the same pattern she'd been using. He had no idea what was on all those notes she'd write only to tear or crumble up. Maybe she was just having trouble finding the right words.

His leg bounced.

After taking a glance out the window to make sure she wasn't ready, he pushed the glasses up onto his forehead and look at his brother. Ferb's fingers were flying across the keyboard, occasionally stilling before starting up again. His eyes looked a little bloodshot, and Phineas tried to remember when the last time he took a break was.

He wished he could say time wasn't an issue but it kinda was. Though, he wasn't sure if Ferb was still combing through medical journals or had moved onto trying to find suppliers for what they needed. Phineas' own attempts had fallen threw. There weren't enough supplies to go around, even getting what they needed to make their own supplies wasn't working.

But without it, all they could do was speculate. And considering neither of them had really bothered studying viruses or cures, and looking back, he questioned that, they spent so much time creating things so people could have fun, but surely someone, or two someones, who's able to build portals to Mars and fix time machines can figure out how to cure diseases so people who can't go out and have fun, can.

He didn't want to go too far down that train of thought though. He needed to stay optimist and if he started questioning the decisions he'd made in the past, it'd be harder to.

"Hey, Ferb, maybe you should take a break."

Ferb didn't take his eyes off the screen as he shook his head.

Maybe they wouldn't need any of this stuff. All this could just blow over. Or someone else could find the cure. The CDC or SHIELD might prefect the cure soon.

But then there would be trial periods. Even if Ferb and he found it, they'd still force those on them before letting them release it.

But they could make it airborne, release it secretly. But what if it didn't work? Or triggered allergic reactions in some people? So many things could go wrong with that plan.

Phineas flopped back on his bed, absently scratching at his arm. If itchiness was a symptom, he'd be worried, but it wasn't and he was pretty sure he was just restless.

They could go out and sit in the backyard, but he saw the way Mom fretted whenever they stepped outside. She didn't need more things to worry about right now.

The only upside to the situation was no school. And that was barely an upside when they were working with limited supplies for inventing. He guessed them not being sick was also an upside.

Sitting back up, he gave Ferb a look. "Bro, seriously, it's late, take a break and get some sleep."

That got Ferb to finally look at him. He blinked a few times before rubbing his eyes, but he closed the laptop.

Phineas pulled the binoculars back down as he stood up. Isabella was still scribbling at hers, so he wrote out a quick message saying goodnight. He had to hold it up for a minute before she noticed.

She started to hold up her own message before stopping. Going back, she wrote something else down and held it up: Better luck tomorrow. Goodnight Phineas.

And it smaller letters was something that had been scratched out and rewritten. He didn't know why she'd scratched it out. Reading it, he smiled and made one last message for the night: Love you too, Isabella.

He didn't understand why she flushed bright red right after.

He really hoped she wasn't running a fever.