(Collab between myself and
@pockets As funny as it was to see her friend literally faceplant into the floor, her killer headache meant that Sophia wasn't in the laughing mood. Instead, she simply helped him to his feet, and then promptly buried her face into his neck, hugging him from behind.
If you were a tyrant, then I was your torture master, she signed.
My head hurts, and today is weird. Why were you floating?He did his best, he really did. Richard tried his absolute hardest to ignore the fact that his best friend, an attractive girl by any measure, had her nude body pressed against him. She was always an affectionate sort and he had largely gotten used to that over the years. This was a new level though and he wasn't entirely sure how to react.
“I have no idea why I was floating,” he blurted out. He made to step away from her but then decided that not seeing her naked any more than he already had was probably for the best. He could learn to ignore the feeling of breasts pressed into his back… right?
“Do you remember anything from Thursday? I don't remember anything at all after we started picking up the trash at the park.” Floating mysteries could wait, one question at a time was the best way to go about it.
For a moment, Sophia didn’t move at all. Then, she moved her head so that she looking up at him.
I remember… we were at the park yesterday. Then… we saw… something cool? She frowned, resting on his shoulder.
There was a room, I think. We were all in it… and there was a bright light… and then I woke up in bed and wanted to die.Richard frowned, his brow coming together in a deep furrow that belonged in a much older person. “I don't remember any of that,” he muttered. “A room, a bright light, none of it's familiar. What kind of room? Can you describe it?”
Her frown deepened, and she tried to think of anything else from that night. Finally, she shook her head.
No. It hurts too much to think. Please kill me.“I could never kill you,” he said, a small smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. “It’s still illegal in all fifty states.”
Sophia pouted.
You would if you loved me.Richard lightly smacked her hand but said nothing else. He sighed a moment later and crossed his arms over his chest, head down in thought. “Obviously something happened to us last night. Something that… changed us? I mean I was floating, right? I didn't imagine that?”
Sophia shook her head.
He sighed again, starting to feel like a character out of a bad young adult novel with all the sighing, but he did it anyway and pinched the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger.
“Okay, let's figure this out. Something happened to me and I slept through Friday. If something happened to me it must have happened to you too, right? Aside from feeling like something death brought with him in his suitcase have you noticed anything unusual today?” He glanced around the house and saw a note sitting on the nearby coffee table.
“Did you check for messages?” he asked as he stepped over and picked up the slip of paper.
Squinting, Sophia glanced at the note.
-
Sophia, if you’re reading this, then you either missed the note I left on your door, or you ignored it. Either way, GET BACK IN BED YOUNG LADY! YOU ARE SICK! We’ll be home soon. Love, Aunty.-
Oops. Actually, bed sounds really good right now. Half-sighing, half-groaning, she grabbed Ricky’s wrist and tugged him in the direction of the stairs.
Richard let Sophia pull him along by the wrist, not really paying attention to what she was doing or where they were going as he continued trying to rationalize recent events. As they walked he attempted to recreate the sensation of floating that he’d experienced when he crashed into her front door but it was to no avail. No matter what he tried or thought of nothing seemed to work.
Pulling him down the stair and into the room she shared with her mother, Sophia swung him and around and practically threw him onto her bed. Before he had a chance to react, she was climbing under the sheets beside him and cuddling against his chest, head tucked down.
Richard remained oblivious to her intent until he suddenly found himself pitching onto a mattress and Sophia crawled into the bed with him. In his distracted state while trying to puzzle out what happened he had successfully blocked out the fact that she was still naked. The eyeful he got when she climbed into the bed, however, reminded him and his blood pressure suddenly shot through the roof. The fact that she pulled the sheet over them both did little to help him even though she was technically covered up.
“Sophia!” he yelped, his voice cracking as it shot up several octaves and the adrenaline surge of a fight-or-flight response kicked in.
The air rippled around him, a wavering distortion in the air for the span of a single heart beat and suddenly Richard found himself falling until he slammed into a hard surface and all the air rushed from his lungs.
“Oh, fuck me sideways,” he groaned and rolled over onto his back, arms wrapped tightly around his chest as he struggled to pull much needed oxygen back into his lungs. He opened his eyes after nearly a minute to find Sophia, still completely naked, staring up at him from her position lying on her back in the bed.
He closed his eyes again, not before he got a very good look at her, and groaned. “I'm on the ceiling, aren't I? And would you please put some clothes on?”
Point in fact, Sophia did NOT put some clothes on. Instead, she simply held her arms up like she wanted a hug, and gave Richard The Look. It was the saddest, most heart-wrenching look an adorable girl could ever muster, perfected and passed down the Callahan line for generations. No one, ever, in the history of the world, past, present, or future, could resist The Look.
Richard cracked an eye open a minute later to see her giving him her patented Look, arms stretched toward him, which did nothing but draw attention to her breasts.
“Nope,” he said and shook his head. “Not falling for it this time. That's your “You Feel So Incredibly Guilty Because You Just Kicked A Kitten” Look. Not falling for it this time.” His words were far more confident than his tone implied, but he was trying.
Minutes passed with no movement between either of them. Occasionally Richard would squint one eye open to see if she'd gotten dressed but invariably she was in exactly the same position, ratcheting up The Look each time. Each time he found it working just a little better than the time before.
Finally he let out an explosive sigh of exasperation and opened his eyes again, attempting an admonishing glare. He opened his mouth to speak when the air suddenly rippled again.
“You really need to- gah!” he yelped as whatever force held him to the ceiling abruptly vanished again and he fell back toward the bed, and right into Sophia's open arms. He barely caught himself with his hands on the mattress to avoid crushing her but still landed heavily atop her, head pillowed nicely against her breasts.
Ricky dropping from the ceiling was definitely surprising, and she gasped as all the air shot from her lungs. So, naturally, she did the only reasonable thing to do in such a situation. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him tightly against her, and purred happily once she had her breath back.
At least until a thought suddenly occurred to her, causing her eyes to shoot open. Immediately she pushed him up (though her legs were still locked around his waist).
Wait, what do you mean you slept through Friday? Today is Friday!Richard grunted, the air around them both rippling and subsiding as he struggled to escape. “No, it's Saturday. Would you please let go? We were sick all through Fri- stop that! Friday, and it is now Saturday.” While he fought they rose into the air and fell over and over, rotating slowly as they did until finally, they landed on the mattress again, Richard on his back with Sophia straddling him.
A second later the sheet, still planted firmly against the ceiling fell and draped itself across them.
Richard sighed in defeat. “I give up.”
Now in a more comfortable position without Ricky’s heavy weight on top of her, Sophia sat up, her face adorned with utter devastation.
You mean I missed two whole runs? She leaned down on him with her hands pressed against his chest, Inadvertently giving him an even more impressive view than he had before.
Richard closed his eyes again, determined to keep them that way until he remembered he wouldn't be able to communicate with her if he couldn't see her signing.
“Good chocolate Christ on a cracker,” he muttered and glared up at her, focusing on her face and ignoring all else. “Yes you missed two runs. But you were sick so no one will hold it against you. I think the fact that I've been ping-ponging through the air like a party balloon should be of slightly greater concern at the moment don't you?”
She seemed to consider his words for a moment, then shrugged.
Hurts too much to think about. With that, she laid back down, nuzzled her head under his chin, closed her eyes, and purred again. Whatever weird things that were going on, it could all wait until her head stopped feeling like it had an axe buried in it.
Richard groaned and rubbed at his eyes. They were burning and itching, like he hasn't gotten enough sleep. With Sophia comfortable he decided to make the most of things and wrapped his arms loosely around her, keeping carefully to safe areas.
“If something happened to me, it must have happened to you too,” he repeated his earlier comment. “And it likely happened to some of the others as well, if not all of them. But what happened? I'm floating, at the least, but why? And how? Am I doing it? Is it some kind of ability or a symptom of something?”
He kept his eyes closed, the itching getting worse as time went on.
Sophia groaned, and reached up to plant her hand over Ricky’s mouth. Her request couldn’t have been more obvious if she had used duct tape. Settling down, she sighed, and purred again.
Richard would have glared at her but she wouldn't have noticed and it wouldn't have done any good. For a moment he considered licking her hand, but that wouldn't have yielded any positive results either.
So finally, he simply shook his head a few times to get her hand off his mouth and settled in to wait. In minutes he was sound asleep.
Feeling much better as she drifted back into consciousness, Sophia pushed herself up and stretched, moaning softly as she felt the pull in her muscles. She glanced down to find that Ricky was still asleep beneath her, and smiled, leaning down to gently peck his forehead. She knew very well how awkward he could get around her, and it was honestly too much fun teasing him about it. Not that she would ever apologize for it, of course. It was simply her way of saying that he was important to her.
Sliding over so that she was laying beside him, instead of straddling on top, she started to tap his forehead, grinning like a loon.
Richard flinched in his sleep when something tapped against his forehead and he groaned, shaking his head irritably. A second later it came again and he jerked again, harder. It came a third time and he jerked so hard he startled himself awake. His head came up, eyes opened, and he bit back a strangled groan, hands flying to his face to cover his eyes.
“Argle farther,” he said, or something remarkably similar to it. A cold sweat broke out over his skin as the itching and burning sensation he’d felt before falling asleep exploded into full blown agony. Red hot pokers, needles, knives, images of Justin Bieber, whatever analogy most fit, that’s what he felt and he curled in on himself, groaning piteously.
Instantly, all humour vanished from Sophia’s mind, and she leaned over him, cupping his cheek, brow furrowed in concern.
Ricky?Richard was unaware that Sophia was attempting to speak to him as he resisted the urge to claw at his own eyes. He had just enough sense to realize that it wouldn’t help and would only hurt him in the long run. For what felt like hours but was probably only the span of minutes Richard shook and groaned as the pain ratcheted up and up and up in intensity until finally, like a bubble bursting, it was simply, and suddenly, gone.
He sat up slowly, hardly daring to open his eyes, but eventually he did. Eyes open he looked around the room, absently wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead with the back of one arm until his gaze landed on Sophia, staring at him with naked concern written across her face.
“I’m all right,” he muttered. “I have absolutely no idea what that was, but I’m all right.”
Unconvinced, Sophia pushed him back down onto the mattress.
You. Stay. Put. She stood up, looking down at him with a surprisingly severe look.
I mean it. With that, she turned around and left the room.
Richard stared after her, confused by her reaction, and he took a moment to take stock of himself. Despite the searing agony he’d been in just minutes before he felt perfectly fine. No stiffness or soreness in his joints or muscles, and his eyes didn’t hurt in the slightest. They felt strange, heavy was the only word he could think of to describe it, but they didn’t hurt at all and his vision seemed to be just as it was before.
“Seriously, Soph,” he called as he stood up and started for the door. “I’m fine. I’m gonna head home and try to track down phone numbers. I’ll call that Blake kid, and Mina, or Alden, see if they had a similar experience.”
Right as he opened the door, Sophia was waiting for him. In an instant she planted her hand on his face, pushed him all the way back onto the bed, and gave him The Look. This was not The Look that she had given him previously. This was the devastating, and rarely used You Are An Idiot And You Will Do As I Tell You Look, passed down the Callahan line for generations. It would brook no arguments, accepted no alternative, and could cause even the bravest soul to tremble.
Richard quailed, predictably so, under The Look, but attempted to rally. “But I have to get home,” he protested. “Come on, I live next door, my mom’s gonna be wondering where I went, I kinda ran out of there without giving her a heads up.”
The Look did not budge.
Richard stared her down for several seconds, longer than he’d ever managed, in fact. But in the end, it was not to be. He sighed and threw his hands into the air. “Fine,” he muttered. “But you’re gonna have to explain to my mom why I’m not coming home without letting on about any floating or other weird shit going on.” He settled back on the bed and crossed his arms over his chest, actively sulking.
“And put some clothes on before you talk to her,” he called after her.
Smiling sweetly, Sophia kissed his forehead, pushed him back down, and tucked him into the covers.
Good boy. I expect you to at least be down to your boxers when I get back, because you’re not leaving that bed, and you’ll overheat if you keep those clothes on. Before he could protest, she gave him The Look again, and he meekly fell silent. Rising, she grabbed her running clothes and left the room.
Upstairs, she paused when she noticed her mother and aunt sitting in the living room, both of whom fell silent when she appeared.
“Sophia, you’re awake. How are you feeling, honey?” Kailey asked.
Sophia blinked, then smiled.
Much better, Aunty. I was just going over to tell Ricky’s mom that he would be staying here over the weekend.Both adult women shared a look, and Michelle smiled brightly. A little too brightly. “Oh, Ricky’s here? I didn’t know that.”
Slowly, Sophia’s eyes slid between her mother and aunt. They were being very calm. Very familial. It was suspicious. She padded into the living room, until she stood face to face with her mother, who looked back at her innocently.
Mother.“Daughter.”
Show me the pictures.Michelle glanced at her sister-in-law, who simply shrugged, grinning broadly. “I told you.” Rolling her eyes, she pulled the camera from beneath one of the couch pillows and handed it to her daughter. “I have to put these in the scrapbook. You two look adorable together.”
Flicking through the pictures, Sophia smiled fondly, ending on a close-up of the two teens slumbering together. It was quite apparently that Sophia wasn’t wearing anything under the bedsheet.
Send me this one. And make sure there’s room for more, Ricky looks good without a shirt. With that, she handed the camera back to her delighted mother and aunt, donned her running shorts and tank-top, and departed to explain to Ms. Calhoun the numerous ways in which her son was an idiot.
