Work Text:
Phineas had never liked hospitals. Not even a little.
No matter how much he tried to convince himself that hospitals weren’t scary at all that they existed only to do good, to save lives, to heal, to prevent illness there was still something unbearable about them. The oppressive atmosphere, heavy with its own strange “energy,” filled him with sadness, despair, and a quiet ache born of everything that happened within these walls. The doctors were often cold and unempathetic necessarily so, perhaps, given the nature of their profession. And the sharp, persistent smell of medicine and ammonia alone was sometimes enough to make the poor boy dizzy, overwhelmed by anxiety that seemed to come from nowhere.
And now he stood in front of the enormous surgical wing of the hospital, staring nervously at its polished, respectable entrance.
Ferb stood beside him, biting his lip as Phineas’s grip tightened painfully around his elbow. He wasn’t entirely sure, but it felt like his brother’s fingernails were digging into his skin.
Phineas understood perfectly well that he wasn’t here for himself or his own health. He was here for his friend who, he hoped, needed his… their support after such a long, difficult, and exhausting surgery.
“She just had her appendix removed,” Fletcher suddenly reminded his brother. “There’s no need to worry this much.”
Phineas snapped out of his near trance and stared at him.
“I’m not worried,” he said, forcing a smile. “I know she’s a strong girl. She can handle anything.” He glanced back at the hospital doors. "Even surgery,” he added, realizing immediately how overly dramatic that sounded.
Ferb rolled his eyes, took his brother by the arm, and gently led him inside.
________________
The hospital corridor was lined with ornate tiles pale patterns cracked slightly at the seams. Ferb’s hand rhythmically patted Phineas’s back, while the hum of distant conversations and the rattle of gurney wheels distracted him from his spiraling thoughts. Occasionally, he caught fragments of doctors’ conversations. Someone talked about an upcoming operation. Someone else mentioned how some “idiot” had fallen off a windowsill and sliced his leg open. Phineas snorted when he heard the gruesome continuation about flesh spilling out and two poor nurses stuffing it back in and stitching the wound closed. Why was he laughing at something so disgusting? Maybe it was a defense mechanism. Yeah. Probably.
“Flynn and Fletcher?”
A calm, deep voice suddenly sounded above them, and both boys looked up at the tall man in a doctor’s coat.
“You may go in. Garcia-Shapiro is in stable condition.”
The boys immediately sprang to their feet from the chairs outside the room. Straightening their white coats, they followed the doctor inside.
“I should warn you,” the doctor added before closing the door behind them. “You have twenty minutes. Don’t agitate or exhaust the patient post-anesthesia reactions can be unpredictable.”
Their eyes went straight to the bed.
Isabella lay there, breathing softly. Her hair was tangled across the pillow, the blanket pulled up to her chest. Tubes ran from her arm to a glucose drip. She looked pale and exhausted and Phineas’s heart clenched painfully.
For a split second, he wanted nothing more than to pull her fragile body into his arms and shield her from everything she’d been through. Of course, he would have felt the same for anyone he loved. Of course.
“Come on,” Ferb whispered, nudging him forward.
They sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she stirred, huffing softly, struggling to open her eyes. Isabella let out an uncomfortable groan and looked at the two figures in front of her. She blinked slowly, her expression unfocused.
“Uh…”
“Isabella! Oh God, how do you feel?” Phineas blurted out, words spilling over each other until Ferb placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pulled him back.
“Right. Sorry. Too much.”
Isabella dropped her head back onto the pillow, staring at them as if trying to remember who they were. Her gaze was distant like she was looking at strangers.
And the boys didn’t like that. Not one bit.
“Isabella?” Phineas tried again, more softly.
She tilted her head toward him. Her pupils suddenly dilated. Her mouth fell open slightly and she blushed.
Phineas leaned closer, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead.
“Do you want some water?” he asked quietly, glancing at Ferb. “Does anesthesia cause a fever?”
Before Ferb could answer, Isabella spoke.
“You look… weird.” Her voice was loud. And oddly cheerful.
Phineas blinked.
“Wh-”
“But cute,” she continued, lifting her free hand to his face. Her fingers brushed his cheek, traced his freckles, tapped his nose.
“Me?” he whispered, frozen.
Isabella studied the boy with the triangular head, her pupils growing even wider.
“I like you,” she stated calmly, her expression strangely blank.
“I like you too,” Phineas replied automatically, completely certain she meant as a friend.
“You’re veeeery cute,” she added, poking his nose again.
Thank God neither of them noticed Ferb in the background, barely holding in laughter as he filmed the whole thing on his phone.
Phineas had no idea what to do, but he forced himself to stay calm, not wanting to upset his friend fresh out of anesthesia.
“Thank you,” he said shyly, smiling. “You’re much cuter.” And that was the absolute truth.
“No,” Isabella frowned. “You are.” She poked his nose again, not removing her finger.
“You’re cuuute,” she insisted. “And I like you. Don’t argue with me.”
Phineas chuckled and shook his head.
“Alright, Isa. You’re right.”
He tried not to notice how his cheeks burned hotter with every touch.
The constant anxiety of the hospital slowly faded into the background. All he could see was her this sweet, dazed face, so determined to convince him that he was cute.
“I don’t know why,” she murmured, “but your name feels like… Phoenix. Or Vincent. Or… something with an P..”
Phineas froze. She DIDN’T REMEMBER him?
He flushed instantly and leaned back slightly.
“You… don’t remember us?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head.
“Nope. But I can tell you’re adorable.” She reached for his hoodie and fixed the hood.
Phineas glanced nervously at Ferb, who had stopped filming and now sat quietly nearby, watching the scene unfold.
“This is… normal, right?” Phineas whispered. He knew anesthesia could make people unpredictable but panic had wiped all logic from his mind.
Ferb just nodded silently, and that was enough for the boy to relax and look again at his friend, who was fiddling with the zipper of his sweater.
“So… Vincent? Or-” Isabella trailed off, looking at the “cutie.”
“Phineas,” he said softly, forcing a smile.
“Oh, Phineas,” she purred. “Lovely. It was on the tip of my tongue.” She reached for his cheek again.
She spoke slowly, carefully choosing each word yet somehow managed to say complete nonsense at times.
“Our time’s almost up. You need to rest,” Phineas said gently, realizing he’d leaned into her palm, eyes half-closed.
“The cute boy will come back to me, right?” she fluttered her lashes and cupped his face with her cold hands.
“I don’t know about a cute boy,” Phineas mumbled shyly, looking away, “but I’ll come back.”
“I told you not to argue with me,” Isabella said seriously, squeezing his cheeks.
“I’m not arguing.”
Her cold hands cooled his burning face.
“You’re adorable.”
“Okay.”
“I said you’re adorable.”
“I get it.”
“Again.”
“Isab-“
“You,” she poked his nose, “are adorable. A cutie. And i like you”
“Oh… okay.”
“Do you agree with me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She pulled his face toward hers.
Phineas had never imagined that a single touch lips against his cheek could make him this happy.
“Woooow,” Isabella said, pulling back. “I kissed a cute boy.”
Phineas couldn’t move. The girl he was hopelessly in love with though he didn’t yet realize it had just kissed him.
“And you saw that?” Isabella turned to Ferb. “I kissed a cute boy.”
Ferb quickly lowered his phone and nodded enthusiastically, smiling wider than usual.
“I’m sooo cool,” she said, looking back at Phineas. “I’m cool, right?”
“You’re… you’re very cool,” Phineas breathed.
“The coolest girl in the world.”
She squinted and smiled.
“Yeeees, I’m sooo cool,” she said, still holding his face. “I’ll do it again.”
“O-oh-“
Before he could react, she kissed his other cheek.
Moments later, Phineas watched as she licked her lips contentedly shockingly energetic for someone who’d had surgery just hours ago.
“Now go, cute boy,” she said. “I’m about to fall asleep for a few hours. Hopefully my mom will be here when I wake up.”
She straightened his hoodie.
“And bring me ice cream.”
“You can’t have ice cream yet,” Phineas murmured.
“Can’t you make one that I can have?”
That question completely threw him.
“You really don’t remember me?” he asked quietly.
“No,” she smiled slyly. “But I know you’ll make зme ice cream I’m allowed to eat.”
“Well then,” Phineas smiled, “I’ll make you ice cream you’re allowed to eat.”
__________
“So,” Ferb said once they left the hospital, grinning knowingly. “How was the visit?”
Phineas groaned, covered his face with his hands, and turned bright red.