Ferb sat, watching his little brother fumble with the television remote. The redhead's fingers slid over the buttons on the remote, a slight smile touching his lips.

"This is the power button, right, Ferb?" he said.

"That's right."

It was just like old times – the times they had been separated by miles, talking to each other on the phone. Like their communication while Ferb was at the boarding school in England. He had convinced his mother to let him stop attending the place three years ago – because he missed seeing Phineas' face so very, very badly. Now Phineas would never see Ferb again.

Ferb had to start talking more again, and he wasn't really comfortable with that. Often, awkward silences would stretch between the boys.

Phineas' fingers navigated the remote again. "Channel up. Am I right?"

Ferb sighed. "Let me try."

"Try what?" Phineas turned to Ferb without thinking about it, and then remembered moving his head wasn't really going to help him with anything. "Try what?" he asked again.

"To heal you!" Ferb ran a thumb over Phineas' ruined eyes, feeling the smooth eyelids and knowing the destruction beneath them. "I'm sure I could do it."

"You're just saying that." Phineas smiled, but the expression was a touch forced. "We're not doctors, bro."

"But we're geniuses."

"Not medically. Name all the parts of the eye and what they do."

Ferb floundered for a second and then gave up. "I can't."

"See?"

"I could learn them. People have made mechanical hands. It shouldn't be too hard to make new eyes."

Phineas said nothing, just shook his head and ran his hands over the remote some more.

"Pause?" he asked in a whisper.

Ferb got up and walked away, shutting the living room door behind him.

Once outside in the hallway, he slid down the wall 'till he was sitting on the carpet, clutching his knees to his chest.

He understood his brother's reasoning – he would be scared, too, having already lost his sight, to let an untrained boy operate on his brain, like Ferb would have to if he wanted to help Phineas. But this made him angry. Phineas, deep down, didn't trust Ferb with everything. They were brothers, for goodness sake.

"Ferb, honey."

Ferb jumped, and then looked up to see his mom, Linda, standing there. "Go talk to your brother," she said. "You know it's not his fault."

"It sort of is, though," Ferb said. "Fixing the washing machine for you was his idea."

"Yes." Linda looked troubled. "You boys shouldn't have –"

"I know." Ferb swallowed tears.

"But it wasn't his fault the cleaning fluid got in his eyes."

"No," Ferb agreed reluctantly.

"Can't you forgive him, then?"

"What? I'm not angry at him!"

"Yes, you are, though." Linda put a hand on his shoulder. "I can tell."

Ferb shook his head.

"Sweetheart –" Linda knelt down. "What did Phineas do to make you upset?"

Ferb pressed his lips together, searching his mind and tracking down an elusive answer. "He became blind," he said after a little deliberation, and his voice almost broke as he said it. You don't know the fun we used to have, he thought. Now it's all gone. He'll never be normal. It isn't the same.

"Go talk to your brother," Linda said again, and nudged Ferb gently with her foot.

"Fine."

Ferb pushed open the living room door and sat down beside Phineas again.

There was a stiff pause. Then Phineas opened his mouth to speak – and Ferb broke down.

"Why are you crying?" Phineas gasped, flinging his arms around his brother.

"Summer is over for good," Ferb whispered.

Phineas' damaged eyes filled with tears, and he broke away from Ferb.

Ferb was the blind one for a minute or two, the one trapped in his own little world of fear and desperation. And when he finally looked over, he saw Phineas curled on the far side of the couch, face red and blotchy. It looked like he had been sobbing his heart out – his breathing still came hard, and hiccups jerked his throat at random intervals.

"Phineas?" he said.

"I'm sorry, bro." Phineas' voice was hoarse. "It's my fault, you're right. I don't blame you for being mad."

"You heard me talking to mom?"

"I'm … s-sorry."

Ferb sighed. "I just – let it go, right?"

"Those are some of the only words that got me through the week at the hospital. I'm just saying." Phineas dragged the sleeve of his orange striped t-shirt across his nose. "You gotta pay attention to them, Ferb. They mean something. Something big. We can still sing, we can still make summer last. It's just – let the old times go?"

Ferb sniffed, and wiped away his tears. "That lesson could take a lifetime to learn."

"Then let's learn it." Phineas took the remote control, placed it in Ferb's hands, and put his own fingers over his brother's.

.

"Show me where the number three is," he said.

Is that the end? It feels complete, to me, but I'm sort of getting fond of the story.

Review? Thanks for reading :)