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Perry the Platypus, Agent P, “Bartholomew” Flynn-Fletcher was maybe, slightly, just a teensy-tiny bit losing his mind.
“C’mon, Perry,” Linda beckoned him, and he sluggishly padded over to where she had put his feeding bowl. It was, he noted absently, in a different place than it had been during the summer. Perhaps related to the hushed conversations between the Flynn-Fletcher parents about talking to a vet and the concerned glances from the kids—including Candace, which meant it was definitely serious.
He chewed slowly, trying to ignore the way his limbs ached after so long standing on four feet instead of two. His efforts were halted by a tremor down his front paws, and he grimaced with the feed in his mouth. Okay, maybe this is becoming a serious issue.
When Doofenshmirtz had decided to abandon being evil, Perry had been thrilled on multiple levels. First, because Heinz was genuinely his friend and seeing him realize pretending to be evil was just making him miserable was satisfying on a personal level. And second, because this meant time off before he was reassigned to a new evil scientist, and he could spend time with his kids.
What Perry had failed to factor in was this: he couldn’t exactly see Heinz anymore without needing to thwart him, so the platypus would see approximately zero of the personal progress that resulted from this change. And the kids now had school, which meant homework and tests for them and being alone in the house six hours of the day for him.
In previous years, he would spend this time working. Doofenshmirtz didn’t just stop being evil over the school year, so being an OWCA agent was a full-time job, all year round.
This year, he actually had to stay home all day. With nothing to do. Perry was crashing, hard, and everybody could see it. He needed an intervention. Unfortunately, his options were limited.
Every agent loved their host families. Some were a little more devoted to their work, some intentionally made sure not to get too attached in case of relocation, but after spending years with a family—raising them, being raised by them—it was difficult not to start to love them on some level. Perry was no exception; in fact, he was a step above the rest. He adored his kids.
But they still didn’t know. And they couldn’t, not without OWCA ruining everything for them. So while he knew they loved him, too, they would never understand what was wrong with him, no matter how many persistent questions they asked Baljeet about depression in platypuses. And while Phineas and Ferb were genius kids, they couldn’t fix a problem they didn’t understand.
So. How does one solve boredom? By doing something, obviously. What could Perry do?
Fortunately, he didn’t need to figure it out, as he would discover one month into the school year.
Stacy Hirano was on a mission. A mission to save her best friend’s platypus from his own mental health spiral.
No, that wasn’t a joke.
Being best friends with Candace Flynn for the majority of her life meant that Stacy was pretty well-versed in helping people out of their spirals. Candace was an anxious girl; a determined, spiteful girl, but also very very anxious. So Stacy had spent a lot of her life being the voice of reason to someone whose own mind told them they weren’t good enough.
Now, circling back to her best friend’s platypus, something had been wrong for a while. It started with Candace complaining about the boys fussing over Perry, then transitioned into Candace fussing over Perry, then Ginger coming home chattering about the Fireside Girls meeting Isabella had hosted discussing animal inactivity and platypus health conditions.
Stacy had absolutely no idea what was going on with Perry, but she did know that it probably had nothing to do with regular platypus stuff. After all, she was the only one who knew Perry was actually a secret agent fighting a pharmacist—uh, evil scientist—in his free time. So, the logical conclusion was that there was some secret agent stuff going on, and had been going on for a while now.
To stealthily find more info, she needed to do some reconnaissance. Secret agent style. Must not attract suspicion.
“So what’s the deal with Perry,” Stacy asked casually. Yes. I am the picture of subtlety.
Candace visibly wilted before visibly building herself back up into indifference. “Who knows,” she muttered, poking at her food without eating it—terrible sign, Candace loved grilled cheese. ”I don’t even know why they’re so worried,” she continued, obviously also worried. “They know he’s doing fine, they attached some thingy-mabob to track his vitals or whatever.”
Stacy furrowed her brows at that. “Doesn’t he usually scratch that stuff off when he disappears, though?” It had come up once when she was previously asking stealthy questions about Perry in the aftermath of discovering OWCA. Apparently their pet platypus ditched any and all trackers or performance-enhancing gadgets attached to him when he left home every day, and after a few tries the boys had just given up on that entirely.
“Yeah, well, he hasn’t been disappearing. Ever since school started he’s just been staying at home every day, like a regular old platypus would.”
That made Stacy perk up.
So, the problem wasn’t that some secret agent stuff was happening, it was that the secret agent stuff was not happening. Very interesting. Stacy squinted at her computer screen.
Stacy had known Perry his whole life. She had been friends with Candace since they were practically babies, so she remembered when she first came to school complaining about her brothers adopting ‘some dumb green duck’ over break. And as long as Stacy could remember, mentions of Perry were inevitably followed up by confusion about where he went every day. This was a major departure from the norm.
He must’ve been fired, Stacy decided. She didn’t even know secret platypus agents could be fired, but it was the only reason he wouldn’t be going to work. The fact Candace didn’t seem to know about OWCA meant that the secret agent thing was still a secret, so Stacy still needed to be secretive.
She didn’t know how to deal with platypus depression, but when she needed to help Candace out of a spiral she set up a movie night.
“You want to pet-sit Perry?” Candace asked, a little bewildered.
Stacy nodded, trying not to fidget too much. “You said he hasn’t been leaving, right? Well, maybe the problem is that he’s stuck at home. If I take care of him for a weekend it’ll be, like, a change of scenery, you know?”
Her friend looked doubtful. “But we don’t know where he usually goes,” she said slowly.
“Look, do you have a better idea?” Stacy challenged. Damn, she wasn’t good at tricking people. If this didn’t work she’d need to stake a platypus robbery. Platypus kidnapping? A platypus-napping. Platynap. She would have to platynap him.
Candace sighed. “I’ll ask my brothers.”
Surprisingly, Phineas and Ferb agreed. Less surprisingly, they dropped a thousand-page Perry guide into her arms and spent about ten minutes chattering about proper platypus care before Candace dragged them off and Stacy was allowed to leave with their pet.
The encyclopedia was heavy enough that she didn’t have the chance to address her new captive until she was home, at which point she noticed he looked…very tired. And not entirely present.
“Hey, Perry,” she greeted, and stuck a finger through the carrier and scratched under his chin. He made a weak chattering noise at the touch and then closed his eyes—still crossed. Hm.
Deciding it was weird to keep a sentient creature in a cage when she knew he could think for himself, Stacy unclipped the hatch and pulled him out, setting him on the couch beside her.
Ginger had a sleepover and her mom was away for the weekend, so she was alone in the house. Stacy explained this to him, and his eyes finally focused on her, but he didn’t stand up.
“I thought we could have a movie night,” she got to the point, and he blinked at her. “Candace and her brothers have been all worried about you for a while now,” she started explaining quickly, “And you haven’t been leaving the house, so I thought you were fired, or something. So. …I’ve got snacks, but I don’t know what you can eat.” She swept an arm over the assortment of junk food on her coffee table.
Perry considered this, before finally moving…not to the snacks, but to a notepad and pen. He scribbled a few things and shoved it in her face.
“‘I wasn’t fired,’” Stacy read out. “‘My nemesis quit so I’m on call until I get a new long-term assignment.’ So why are you all down then? Are you just bored?” Perry nodded glumly. That was a little underwhelming, but at least he wasn’t being threatened. “Okay, well, you should find some hobbies or something. Anyway, pick a movie—not horror, I can’t do that again, Grievance is still giving me nightmares…” she shivered.
The platypus didn’t move towards the pile of movies but instead studied her and grabbed the notepad again.
“‘Why are you helping me?’” she read out again, then rolled her eyes and dropped it to the ground. “Because Candace has been super worried, and nobody else knows enough to help. It’s called being a good friend, teal-boy—not just to Candace, to you,” she added, and he looked at her with wide eyes.
Finally he hopped off the couch to rummage through the discs and held one up. It was, perhaps predictably, horror.
“Great, I hate you, but fine,” Stacy said dryly. “I’ll set it up. Also, put your hat on, you look weird on two legs without it.” Perry complied with a small grin (it looked weird on a bill).
When they settled in to watch, Perry was sitting beside her like a tiny person. Stacy discovered over the course of the movie that alongside grinning and sitting like one, he also laughed and screamed like a person (though both without sound).
He grabbed onto her arm during a jumpscare in exactly the same way Candace did, clenched his fists when trying to hide his fear just like Ferb did, and chattered loudly over spooky dialogue like Phineas did.
Stacy wasn’t quite sure why it took a spontaneous movie marathon with him to realize this, but when he slumped into her side towards the end, fast asleep, she figured out he really was just a smaller, teal-er Flynn-Fletcher. And, well. Those Flynn-Fletchers always seemed to figure things out in the end.
She maneuvered him into a nest of blankets and pillows and set his hat off to the side, then ran a hand through the fur on his head. He made a chattering noise in his sleep, and she smiled.
Yeah. Perry would be fine.