When the news came, Linda had dropped the phone. At first, she thought she'd misheard. If she hadn't misheard, she had to be dreaming.
When she realized it was neither, she'd clasped a hand over her mouth and tried not to cry into the receiver.
Lawrence had come into the room after hearing the phone clatter against the floor followed by his wife's sobs. She didn't hesitate to let him handle the rest of the call.
Tears still ran down her cheeks as she repetitively dialed Candace's number in the car. It only went to voicemail.
Linda couldn't believe it as they drove into the city where her sons were. They'd been so close, just past the Tri-State Area.
A hand wrapped around hers, squeezing gently. She met Lawrence's eyes as he took a second to look away from the road.
They didn't speak. After so long, it felt like saying anything would break the spell and their children wouldn't be there after all.
When they'd found out the boys at runaway, they hadn't understood it. They'd been told the Smile Away Reformatory was a nice, safe place that would gently correct their behavior. It had taken months for everything to come out. The children there were abused, underfed, forced to do things that bordered on slave labor, tortured, and more, but she'd never been able to bring herself to hear the rest.
She subjected her little boys to that. She yelled at them for being themselves and sent them into a living nightmare.
As much as she wanted her boys home and safe, she couldn't find it in herself to blame them for not coming back.
+++
Ferb scowled at his reflection in the one-way mirror. He wasn't handcuffed, but there wasn't a point in getting up from the table.
He'd been sold out and with him Phineas. His brother was being held somewhere else. Probably seen as some innocent victim in all of this. How right they would be.
He should've known better. The guy had made promises too big to be true, but he'd fallen for them anyway. He deserved to be caught for it.
It wouldn't be long until they found out who he was. Their parents would be called.
The thought made his scowl falter.
Would they want to see him?
Would they only want Phineas back in the end?
Did he want to see them?
...Would they recognize him?
He glared his mirror image with new interest. The last four years had made more of a dent than just growing older. The only green currently in his hair were highlights made by a dye, almost lost in a sea of onyx. They failed to match the deep green of his natural color, but that was, to an extent, the point.
A few piercings lined his ears. His fingers twitched as he suddenly had the urge to take them out and shove them in his pocket before his parents could see them. But they had little to do with being on the streets anyway, he'd had half of them before the trip into Hell. Who tried to remember who'd done them originally, before they'd closed up. An image of blond pigtails and green eyes with a warning it might hurt floated on the edge of his memories. It felt like another life.
There were other teens his age with tattoos. While he may have fallen into that crowd, and there had been a couple of close calls with gangs wanting him to wear their mark, he'd managed to avoid that. From observing others, he'd learned early on that tattoos were too easy to identify.
And, maybe, he never wanted anything that permanent to tie him to this life.
He tilted his head, trying to pick out other things that couldn't be summed up the passing of time.
Evidently, there weren't as many as he'd assumed. Or his memories were more twisted by time than he'd believed. Though he did think he looked older than his thirteen years.
The dark bags under his eyes helped.
Sighing, Ferb slumped back in the hard, metal chair. This hadn't been what he'd wanted for himself or for Phineas. Especially not for him.
When their parents came and saw them, he wouldn't blame them if they only wanted to take Phineas home. It had been hard to keep him out of everything since Phineas had wanted to help support them. It had taken them a while to find a way he could do that without branding himself a criminal.
Ferb wished he could have done the same for himself.
What was he thinking? Even if they wanted to take him home, he wasn't going anywhere except juvie. He heard stories about it. They might keep him there until he hit eighteen. He'd currently done enough to earn it.
A sudden thought chilled him to the bone. He might not see Phineas again for five years. And if their parents didn't want him, he'd have no one both while he was inside, and possibly not once he got out.
Being on the streets had been rough, but he'd had Phineas. Phineas who never failed to be able to light up his world with a smile. Phineas who, once he'd bounced back from Smile Away Hell, never ceased being a source of encouragement and optimism.
He didn't know if he could survive years of being locked up again. It wouldn't be like that place, he couldn't imagine it being worse, but the containment, the strict schedules, the everything he'd heard about it would be close enough, and there would be nothing there to keep his spirits up.
Ferb sunk down even slower into the chair, his shoulders curling inwards as he tried to make his lanky, unfed frame smaller.
For better or worse, he'd made his choices. His future was out of his hands now.
He could only hope whoever or whatever held it now liked him.
The door opened.
He froze, not so much as turning to look.
"Ferb."
He knew that voice. Slowly, the hold over him subsided, and he looked.
"Mum." He hadn't meant to say it. He didn't register standing up until he was. Then he wished he wasn't.
His dad was right behind her as she ran into the interrogation room. She pulled him into a hug, crushing him against her. It was with a hint of shock that he realised that he came up to her chest.
He couldn't breathe.
Her hand combed through his hair. He could feel the shaky breaths she was taking. Her hands shifted to his shoulders as she moved back to look at him. The tears shown in her eyes.
Ferb couldn't meet them for more than a second. They'd missed him. His mum was crying over having him in her arms.
Shame, pure shame, fill him. If the floor would open up and swallow him would be better than this.
His own vision blurred a bit. He wanted to apologise for running away, for taking Phineas and disappearing for so long instead of coming home, but he couldn't force the words passed the lump in his throat.
His father clasped a hand on the back of his neck and gave it a light squeeze. "It's good to have you back, old boy," he said, sounding close to joining them in their tears. "Why don't we finish clearing things up here and head home?"
Ferb turned wide eyes on his father. "They'll let me go home?"
"Of course, sweetie," his mum brushed a tear from his cheek with her thumb, "why wouldn't they?"
Because I don't deserve to, the words were on his tongue but he didn't speak them. He raised his hand and, pushing up the sleeve of his hoodie, pinched himself.
He had to make sure.
Something caught his eye, and he looked back towards the door. Phineas waved, a bright grin on his face and not a moist eye on him.
Ferb gave a weak smile back. "I think I'd like to go home."
