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Frankie stares at themself, taking a few moments to acclimate to having a body. And then a few more moments, upon realizing this isn't the body they typically wake up in. The skin of their hands seems to be brown instead of blue, their nails are painted teal instead of black, and they seem to be much lower to earth than their patchwork spine allows.
Not to mention that they're in Cleo and Nefera's dorm room instead of their own. watching Nefera get ready for the day. She straightens her ponytail and looks over at them with an affectionate smile, "Cleo! Good, you're finally awake."
Frankie's-- Cleo's?-- mouth sets into a frown, a certain sense of dread accompanying the name. "I'm not--!" The dread sharpens as Cleo's voice tumbles out of their mouth, their hand slapping over it.
Nefera raises an eyebrow. "Are you okay, sis?"
Frankie shivers, swallowing something hard. "Yeah, um... I need to go talk with Draculaura right quick. Um, event stuff, you know?"
Nefera nods, checking herself out in her and Cleo's shared vanity. "Right! I'm so proud of your initiative."
"Thanks, Nefera."
Frankie gets up and tries to run out of the room, only to rip over one of Cleo's wraps. Nefera grabs them by the arm, righting them back upright and hugging their shoulders. "Have a good day! And make sure you change into real clothes before class starts!"
Frankie's cheeks darken as they just nod, then continue to run and wonder how anyone copes with such short legs.
Meanwhile, down the hall, Cleo woke up screaming. One minute she was painstakingly keeping herself together with her new designer wraps, and the next she woke up in Frankie Stein's body, feeling the sizzle of electricity on her temples from the charging station part of their bed.
So she screamed, and heard Draculaura bump her head on the inside of her coffin, and was immediately attended to by Clawdeen.
"Frankie! Are you okay!?"
"I. Am. Not. Frankie. Oh my Ra, my voice is their voice!"
"Cleo!?" Clawdeen offers her a hand, gently helping her down from Frankie's bed.
"Yeah! Why am I in Frankie's fabulous body!?"
Draculaura peaks her head out of her coffin, sucking her teeth. "Oh, um. That must be what the spell I cast last night did."
Clawdeen turns her head. "Draculaura, what'd we say about casting unknown spells!?"
"Well, sorry, but I found it scribbled in the margins of a textbook and Codex didn't know what it was--"
"If Codex didn't know what it was, then that's worse!" Clawdeen lets out a long sigh, facepalming. She turns back to Cleo. "Look, if you're in Frankie's body, then Frankie has to be in your body. Go find them and just make sure neither of you get into too much trouble, Draculaura and I will figure out a counterspell."
"Right." Cleo hums, running her fingers along Frankie's body. "Does Frankie always sleep in their everyday clothes?"
"Yup. Unless we're having a creepover-- they dress down for those."
Cleo chuckles, trying not to grimace at Frankie's laugh. She imagines her own voice being clapped over, overtaken by the person she's currently seen as. It almost makes her want to stop talking. Almost.
She pulls on their boots, realizing the fact their foot is gone, that a whole portion of her being is missing from this body, and tries to walk out of the dorm. She quickly trips, a combination of not knowing this body's center of balance and the inability to feel a foot she's supposed to feel, and lands in Clawdeen's arms.
"Cleo?"
She swallows, and thinks about how she's tasting Frankie. "Yeah?"
"I can hear your heart pounding." Cleo's face flushes, but she can't feel it. Nerve damage. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." Frankie's voice is naturally high, so the squeak corrupting the word isn't too out of place. "Totally fine."
Clawdeen nods slowly, righting Cleo up and holding her hand as she takes a few steps. With every movement, it becomes more and more apparent that she's in someone else's body, with all the terror and embarrassment that comes with it. She can feel Frankie's stitches rough against skin, feel the buzz of their breath mingling with uncharged air, feel the long softness of their hair. It's odd and somehow mesmerizing.
She walks out of the dorm with her mind on every move Frankie's body makes around her mind, resisting the urge to touch their face or their stitches. Frankie has always been uniquely interesting for Cleo, and this isn't helping it.
And she sees herself, staring at what should be her foot, and she tries to run to Frankie. She trips over their metal foot again, making a clanging sound that gets their attention.
"Cleo! Er... me? Frankie?" Cleo's face screws up under Frankie's confusion, and Cleo feels additional static wracking over her mind.
"Help me up?"
"Come here." Frankie offers Cleo's hand to her, and Cleo gladly takes the offer. Frankie's hand comes off with a ripping tug, and Cleo has the undeniable urge to cry. "Oh," Frankie gently replaces the hand onto their own wrist, reaching into Cleo's-- their-- pocket and fishing out a needle and some thread. Cleo thinks of Frankie reaching into her pocket, in their own skins, and she shivers. "Are you cold? I never get cold in my body, but I'm pretty cold in yours."
"No, I don't feel much of anything," she lies, true only to the extent of their skin.
"Yeah, that's pretty much how it is. I'm feeling so much, and a lot of it is terrible." Frankie properly helps Cleo up, almost refusing to look into their own eyes. Just as well; Cleo wouldn't want to look into hers, either.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Frankie nods. "Nefera has gone off to whatever she does in the mornings, so your dorm is free. And..." They swallow, dropping their voice. "I need help changing clothes."
Cleo imagines what it would feel like to blush again, completely oblivious to the fact she is blushing. It's just that Frankie's blush is confined to lights embedded in bloodless flesh, impossible for them to feel. Impossible for her to feel. What a relief, toning down the surges of feeling bombarding her by the moment.
They hold hands. Cleo initiated it, without really realizing it. She just never took Frankie's hand back fully, so busy buzzing with the concept of Frankie seeing her that it doesn't occur to her to feel their entwined hands.
Frankie leads the way, pulling Cleo into her own dorm like a secret to be kept private. Into their own little space, where they need not pretend to be each other. Frankie instantly relaxes, Cleo's face screwing up in despair. "Nefera kept calling me Cleo and sis."
"Oh, Frankie..." Cleo hesitates before pulling Frankie into a hug, and pretty much regrets it immediately. They're so close, and it feels so odd. She's hugging Frankie. She's hugging herself. She's hugging a body devoid, and inaccurately filled. "I want my body back. This isn't mine."
Frankie nods, pulling away. "Do you have any idea what caused this?"
"Mhm. One of Draculaura's spells. She and Clawdeen are working on it right now."
Frankie sighs with relief, then grimaces. "Well, I trust them to figure this out and get us back to our proper bodies. But until then... I don't like feeling this much. And I don't like being perceived this way."
Cleo nods. "It's weird being seen as another person."
"It's not just that!" Frankie buries Cleo's face in her hands, then they get upset at the sight and look at the ceiling instead. Focusing on some of the flattering jewels dangling above them. "Everyone's seeing me as a girl."
Cleo nods, but can't help being a little confused. "So you are nonbinary, then?"
Frankie blinks, snapped out of being upset by pure confusion. "What?"
"I don't think I phrased that well. Well, like. You came to Monster High when you were just two weeks old, right? And you're made up of a bunch of people. I just thought that maybe you didn't have a real set gender since you were made up of all sorts of people, and you didn't really have the time to explore it."
"No, it's not anything like that. My parents built me as a girl, and it just felt wrong. Because I'm not a girl, no matter what anyone said. It makes me feel really bad, like-- haven't you felt bad about being 'Frankie, they/them' today?"
"I-- well..." Cleo swallows, reaching up to pet Frankie's hair and considering the merits of growing hers out further before deciding she likes this specifically because it's Frankie's. "I haven't really felt anything about that." Just everything else she could imagine feeling about this.
Frankie hums. "Maybe you should think about that, then."
Cleo grimaces, "Do I really sound like that?"
"Well, it is your voice. I think it's pretty beautiful, y'know, when I'm not in charge of it."
Cleo smiles wider, a hasher electrical surge shuddering through Frankie's body. Cleo makes a strangled noise, the air forced out of Frankie's lungs by a spasm.
Frankie seems entirely unconcerned. "That happens. You'll get used to it."
"This is-- Is normal for you?" Eyes widen, static dancing along the edges of Cleo's vision.
"Well, yeah. I get zapped all the time, it's nothing new."
Cleo sets Frankie's face into a frown, considering the strength in bearing that without ever saying "ow." And so the intrigue deepens.
"Do you always feel this much?" Frankie runs fingers through Cleo's hair, placing particular attention on the golden tinsel mixed throughout. "I already feel a lot a lot of the time. This is even more."
"Mhm. I guess it's less overwhelming when you're born with your own nerves."
Frankie hums. "I wish I had my own nerves. Anyways!" They smile like they didn't just drop a stone of dread in Cleo's chest. "Clothes?"
"Oh, right. Close your eyes."
Frankie nods and closes Cleo's eyes, standing obedient as Cleo strips them and replaces the clothes they're wearing. She's wearing. Whatever.
She wraps her typical body into her favorite bandage-print dress since Frankie's body zaps when feeling a bit too much, and having Frankie lean on her while working into her typical pants and shirt outfit would likely result in a charge. If knowing Frankie is feeling their usual hands against Cleo's body doesn't do that already.
Frankie opens Cleo's eyes with a smile, cheeks darkened with blush. The weight of it must be obvious to them, too.
"What are we gonna do?"
"Hm?"
Cleo straightens the headband she always wears, thinking about how cute she is and hoping Frankie can think the same despite everything. "Clawdeen told me to hang out with you all day while she and Draculaura figure out the spell to fix us back. So, what are we--"
"Like a date?"
Cleo short circuits. Literally, the white-hot strikes making her double over. She barely manages a whimper as Frankie's muscles contract and spasm. Frankie pulls her into an embrace, repeating typical comforting words their mother and father said to them during the week it took them to get used to it. "A-A date?"
Frankie pulls away, awfully embarrassed. "Well, um, if you don't want--"
"I didn't say that."
Frankie blinks at her, and she hates seeing herself confused.
"I just-- I do want it to be a date, you just surprised me."
Frankie hesitates before smiling, Cleo's band of gold lipstick catching the light. "Was it a good surprise?"
Cleo can't help but giggle. "Very. But still: what are we gonna do?"
"Hmm, we can go see a boovie?"
"What about our classes?"
Frankie shrugs, their smile infectious. Both of their's smile. "I think Headmistress Bloodgood would understand if the ghost of a witch happened to curse us into swapping bodies for a day or so.
"Mm, true. How are we going to tell it to her?"
"Just like that! Come on." Frankie grabs their own wrist, with adjusted strength to keep all appendages in place, and leads Cleo off to Headmistress Bloodgood's office.
She raises an eyebrow the second they walk in. Frankie just beams and waves at her, with their typical playful edge, which only makes the eyebrow raise higher on Bloodgood's face.
"Hi, Headmistress! You know how there's a ghost of a witch haunting the school?"
"Yes, Cleo. I'm fully aware of the school's haunted status."
Frankie cringes, the playfulness dampening from their surface. "I'm Frankie. The witch ghosts put a spell on us that switch-a-roo'ed our bodies and hearts and heads."
"Ah." Somehow, Headmistress Bloodgood doesn't seem surprised. "I see. Well, under these circumstances, I think it's safe to mark you two sick for the day. Or until this wears off. If you're still switched by tomorrow evening, I'll be calling the Premiere First and Formost Witch Cracker to break the spell and to put this ghost to rest. I am sick of the magical shenanigans going on around here..."
Both of them swallow, but Frankie nods a lot. "Understood! Hopefully, we'll be all back in our own bodies soon!"
"I really hope so," Cleo sighs, hoping no one can tell how giddy feeling Frankie's skin makes her.
"Yes, hopefully. You two are dismissed, have a good day and stay safe-- and help each other."
"We will!" Frankie smiles, pulling Cleo right back out of Bloodgood's office, and now through the whole school. Out through the entrance doors and past the campus' limits.
There's only one monster-friendly boovie theater within the bounds of the secrecy veil, but that's just fine. It just means the ticket guy knows to put the student discount on their tickets right away. And he knows to be surprised when "Frankie" reaches into "Cleo's" pocket for her wallet to pay. He doesn't say anything about that, though, nor about them seeing to skip class to be here. Everyone with any knowledge of the monster social sphere knows better than to look de Nile money in the mouth.
Frankie forgets to drop their own hand as they walk into the theater, the pair going through the motions of getting snacks and working out a boovie to watch. They pick out a vam-com (a vampire-centric romantic comedy for the uninitiated) and scour the theater for their seats.
They sit right next to each other, their hands still joined, and watch. Frankie watches the commercial, while Cleo's gaze keeps trying to float to them, only to be shunned away at witnessing herself. So she looks down at their body instead, almost feeling sorry for it being devoid of Frankie's wonderful mind. Wishing it was, and that she'd only feel the hand as she rests their chin against it, imagining embraces.
She likes them.
It slips into her head like a simple observation; human blood is red, the sky is dark blue, and she's already imagining them saying "I like you, too."
The boovie starts.
After many tears about the tragic immortal vampire and his beautiful doomed-to-die were-swan lover, the boovie ends, the darkness lifting to reveal Frankie and Cleo. Still swapped. Cuddled, with Frankie's head on Cleo's chest. Or Cleo's head on Frankie's chest. Or whatever; what's the difference, at this point.
Cleo pulls away, looking down at Frankie with the odd not-quite-a-blush she's rapidly growing used to. They look back with flushed cheeks, hesitating before mumbling, "M-- Y-- Our face is hot. I've never been hot before."
Our. "You're blushing."
"So are you."
Cleo just nods. "Why are you blushing?"
"Why are you bluhsing?"
"Same reason you are, I hope." Cleo puts her hand in her own hair, wishing the realization came on any other day. "I like you."
"I like you, too, you're one of my best friends!" Frankie beams Cleo's smile, entirely divorced from the crack in her heart. They shove their hand into Cleo's pocket, pulling out their silenced Coffin and getting a flood of notifications in turn. "Oh, sweet! Clawdeen and Draculaura have figured it out, come on!"
They stand up, grab their hand, and run off in a place. Luckily it was the extendable one this time, and Cleo is pulled after them, swallowing against the growing lump in her throat.
And they keep holding hands the entire way back to Monster High, which is which in a variety of ways, from the desperate tightness of Frankie's hold to the way she can't bring their fingers to curl around her hand. Frankie isn't into it for the common intimacy of the act; their mind, nor their body.
Frankie's eyes mist up as they run, and Cleo shuts them against the brunt of feeling, right in time for their metal foot to snag on a stone, sending Cleo careening into Frankie's-- her?-- back. Frankie is too tall and too metallic, sending Cleo's body crumbling under Frankie's.
"Cleo!" Frankie crawls out from under her, turning worried eyes on Cleo. She hates seeing that look on her face. She hates seeing any look on her face, her stomach turning as she settles further into the fact that she isn't herself in any sense of the words.
"I'm--" Cleo sniffles hard, imagining what she must look like right now and cursing herself for making Frankie's body cry. "Sorry. Let's just--"
"No, Cleo, you're crying. What's wrong?" They grab their face, wiping the tears away with the pad of Cleo's thumbs. They don't even think to offer bandages in the way of tissues, opting for a manual approach when it comes to her.
"It--" Cleo sniffs, hard, smelling ozone. "It doesn't matter. We can talk when we've gotten our bodies back-- it's--"
"We do need to talk when we get our bodies back." Frankie takes their hands, tracing the natural groves along with the artificial stitched ones. "Especially about liking each other. Come on."
Cleo blinks at them, letting Frankie continue to pull her along. Trying to stomp out the glimmer of hope that rises in Frankie's sacrificed heart the entire way.
Back through the school and up to the dorms, shuffling their ways through the halls. It's the first lunch break now, which means the halls are flooded with students trying to get in or out of their dorms. It gives Cleo plenty of time to stew, and Frankie plenty of time to consider if mentally cursing the people keeping them from their body would trigger Cleo's mummy curse powers. So they choose kindness until this is over, refusing to get Cleo in trouble while they're unwillingly trusted with her body.
Cleo is wonderful, and sweet, and she trusts them so often with things ranging from jewelry borrows and party setups. She deserves for her image to be maintained, even when she doesn't have a say in what happens to it.
They burst into Frankie, Draculaura, and Clawdeen's dorm room after far too long of trying. Clawdeen and Draculaura are in the potion room, ladling the contents of a cauldron into two separate potion bottles. One bat-shaped, and the other heart-shaped, because Draculaura insisted on maintaining her personal aesthetic even within her witch practices.
They both look at them, smiling with relief. "Hopefully this should work!" Draculaura hums, offering one to each of them.
"And if it doesn't?" Frankie raises an eyebrow, missing their piercing, and taking the heart-shaped potion bottle.
Draculaura shrugs, her smile obviously painted on. "Let's not focus on the negative?"
Cleo raises an eyebrow this time, finding the piercing quite odd. "Mm, well, I trust you, boo." She takes the bat-shaped one.
"I trust you, too!" Frankie pulls the cork out of their bottle, gently clanking it against Cleo's. "Here's to hoping!"
They down the bottle, and Cleo quickly follows. And there's a flash only the two of them can see, and a spark only the two share, and nothing exists.
And everything, burning.
And nothing yet again.
Frankie opens their eyes first, utterly beaming at their returned height. Cleo's open second, when Frankie crashed into her in a hug, squeezing the air out of returned lungs. She breathes Frankie in, with their ozone and wax-coated stitches, and it brings a smile to her face.
"Hey, Frankie."
"Hi, Cleo." They pull away, dozens of sparks dancing across their eyes. Their eyes.
She can't help but beam, the pair oblivious to Clawdeen and Draculaura blinking behind them, sharing a look, and nodding.
Draculaura takes to shoving Cleo out, while Clawdeen takes Frankie. Before either of them can ask what's happening, Clawdeen and Draculaura close themselves back in the potion's room, Draculaura's high voice stabbing through the door. "We'll come out when you two are done with... whatever you're doing."
Cleo's face blooms with a blush, the feeling greatly appreciated. Frankie zaps, and Cleo notices the slightest voluntary flinch in it. They turn back to each other, and Cleo sees the brilliant pink glowing through their teal-dead skin. "I adore you, Frankie. And your body, and your mind."
The blink gets even brighter, and Cleo can almost tell where the light is coming from under there. "I adore you, too, Cleo. I've got this whole speech knocking around my noggin for you, and I was about to recite it in the boovie theater when I realized I didn't want to kiss myself."
Cleo's eyes soften, her hands folding under her chin. "That's where you were going with the best friend comment?"
Frankie nods quickly, static building up in their hair. "I hurt your feelings by ending it there, didn't I?"
"You did."
"I'm sorry. Um..." Frankie hesitates before taking her hands form under her chin, gently shocking her in the process. "Cleo, I like you, too. You're one of my best friends. You're one of my closest confidants. And you're the only person who can spark my heart into action. Well, aside from a lightning bolt. You make my insides flutter, even the ones without wings!"
"What?"
"I have a kidney from a moth creature."
"Moth creatures' kidneys have wings?"
"Well, duh. But that's not the point!" They pull her hands to their heart, the hairs on her arms raising under her bandage wrappings. "You have my heart, Cleo. But you already know that. I don't want your heart in turn. I want you to keep it on you and keep it safe, because I want you to have feelings for me and I want you to be happy."
"Aw, Frankie..."
"So just... promise me you'll keep my heart safe?"
Cleo smiles cattywampus, easing her way forward in a subtle attempt to lean in. "Always and forever. I'll be re-tombed with it before I let it go."
"That's all I could ever want." They gently tug on her hands and she takes the cue to finally lean in. They complete the distance, shocking her lips in a most delightful way. Cleo takes her hands back to push them through Frankie's hair, pressing against them as best she can. She can feel their skin again, and this is a clear winner over wearing it.
The potions door opens and Draculaura squeaks before shutting herself and Clawdeen back in there, giving Cleo and Frankie all the privacy they could need together.