Betty was six years old and the boy next door had just gotten a brand new toy, a kid's car that ran on batteries. From the window, she saw him as he failed to steer the toy car, inevitably ending up on the lawn.
"Mummy," her blond locks, tied in pigtails, bounced as she ran into the kitchen, "mummy."
The beautiful woman turned her attention from the meal prep towards her younger daughter, "What did we say about running around the house, Elizabeth?"
"I'm sorry," Betty spoke softly. "Mummy?"
"Yes, Betty?"
"May I go play with Archie?"
The girl offered her mother the sweetest, most pleading look. No matter how strict Alice Cooper was, she could not deny her daughters request. After all she had cleaned up her toys, and the Andrews' seemed to have been a lovely, normal family.
"Sure," her mother nodded, and Betty's face lit up. "But put on your playing sneakers, not the new ones. And be back in half an hour."
"Yes, mum. Okay, mum."
Betty spoke the two sentences, walking away as swiftly as she could without breaking out into a run. In the hallway, she chose the new blue sneakers her parents got her a couple of days ago, instead of the old white ones. She tightened each with the velcro in the front before rushing through the front door. Once outside, Betty assumed she was allowed to run the short distance to Archie's front lawn.
"Betty," the red haired boy grinned upon spotting her. "Look!"
"I saw from the window," she grinned as she approached him. "It looks very nice, Archie."
The boy leaned back, sinking more into the seat, attempting to imitate the ease with which his dad drove their family car though perhaps failing miserably.
"Do you want to go for a ride?"
The blonde girl glanced towards her home, looking at the window from which she knew her mother could see them. Betty was also perfectly aware that her mother would disapprove. Alice liked to disapprove of a lot of things she found inappropriate, or potentially dangerous, without ever offering an explanation.
"Come on, Betty," Fred Andrews interrupted her internal dilemma, "I'm sure Alice won't mind."
With one last glance towards the treacherous window Betty hopped into the passenger's seat of the small vehicle, "Go, go, go!"
They drove around in circles, ending up on the lawn only two times. Archie was not particularly good at driving at that age, though he would better his hand-eye coordination once he got older. Nevertheless the two had fun.
"I like your shoes," Archie told her, as they walked across the grass and towards their bench at the side of Andrews' house. "I like the blue."
"Thanks, Arch," Betty looked down at her brand new shoes to see them covered in dust and some mud.
When she got home her mother first grounded her, by taking away her favourite doll, for ruining the new sneakers. Betty knew that this was not true. A bit of mud and dust can not ruin a pair of shoes. Then Alice Cooper grounded her again, having remembered in her upset state seeing her daughter playing in the toy car.
"I'm sorry," Betty said, pro forma. It was worth it though.
It was Fred's day to drive Betty, Archie and Polly to school. The Andrews and Cooper family made an elaborate schedule, or Alice Cooper had made one based on the work schedule the four adults provided. On the last weekend of every month, she took the time to carve out a monthly timetable indicating who drove the kids to school and who would pick them up.
Same as every morning when the Andrews had the driving responsibilities, Archie left his bag at the front door, knowing his father would carry it to the car. Archie's responsibility was getting Polly and Betty. The boy walked over to the Coopers' front door and, same as every morning no matter who drove, he knocked on the hardwood. Once, twice, then the third time. Exactly five seconds after the third knock the door swung open, same as every morning, to reveal Alice Cooper.
She greeted Archie with a short smile, "Polly! Betty!" her voice carried through the house. "Archie's here!"
The two of them stood rather awkwardly at the door, same as every morning, and listened to the rush of two pairs of footsteps. When Betty's signature ponytail appeared, bouncing as she rushed down the stairs with Polly close behind Archie smiled.
"No running in the house, Betty," her mother reprimanded her, while tightening the ponytail. She caressed her cheek softly before handing the girl her school lunch. Alice repeated the same gesture with her older daughter, before the three of them stepped outside. Same as every morning Archie offered to carry Betty's bag. Same as every morning Betty protested until they reached the end of the Coopers' driveway. Same as every morning Archie took the bag with a playful smile, and Betty sighed in defeat, a soft smile gracing her own lips.
"It's what friends do," Archie explained as the three walked towards his dad car. Fred was waiting for them in the street, blinkers on, the engine running, while the morning radio show host chattered away from the speakers.
Polly walked a few steps behind them, observing them with a curious glint in her eye. She watched as Archie reached his father's car and opened the door for Betty, and herself, though she understood that the gesture was meant more for her sister.
Archie was now taller than she was, he had been growing faster than she had. It was something Betty could not help noticing as they walked home from school one day. The sun was shining, and the summer was nearby. Despite this, somehow his hand brushed against hers every other step. Afraid she might be invading his space Betty attempted to put an extra inch of distance between them, but the red haired boy simply followed. Soon enough, his left hand brushed against her right hand once again, and Betty could not help the sweatiness of her palms.
"I'm glad it's Friday," Archie murmured, as if unfazed by their sudden hand touches.
"Tell me about it, Arch," Betty, on the other hand, attempted to feign composure. "I've had three projects to turn in this week."
"Oh," he looked at her strangely, just after another hand brush occurred.
She had to get her pulse under control, "Hm?"
"I only had one," and another brush, which did not work well with Betty's attempt to ignore the situation and continue with the conversation as if she were normal. As if his hand continuously touching hers was not giving her the strangest feelings. She saw Polly once, a couple of months ago, with her boyfriend—who had become an ex after Polly decided he was too rude for her—the two of them were holding hands. Handholding, and hand touching for that matter, was somehow reserved for boyfriends.
Archie was not Betty's boyfriend.
"I'm sure it was a difficult one," she reassured him, patting his shoulder. The action made her feel at ease for a second, until her arm was in the same position as before. Just like that, not half a second after she had relaxed, Archie's hand knocked—not brushed, knocked—against hers.
He laughed, "It was not, Betty, but I did my best."
"Of course you did, Arch," she reassured him, "you're so smart."
"Says you."
"And what if I do?"
"Well, you're biased."
"Isn't that what friends are for? Being biased, and giving compliments?"
Archie chuckled at her response, "How can I trust you? You have to tell me I'm smart."
"Hm," she paused, breath hitching in her throat after yet another hand knock—the hand brushes have escalated—then smiled. "I would never lie to you, Arch."
He leaned closer to her, nudging her shoulder, before sneaking his hand into her own, and pressing his own sweaty palm against hers. "I know you wouldn't, Betty."
Archie's mum left. That was all Betty knew for certain. Her mum told her over dinner. She had told the whole family actually.
"Mary left," Alice said while passing the salt to her husband, "Polly, don't play with your food."
"Where did she go?"
Betty's innocent question earned her a sad look from her mother, "Away, Betty."
"Oh," her big blue eyes were suddenly wide and filled with shock. "But, Archie?"
"You can talk to him tomorrow," her mother said, "now eat your green beans."
"Okay."
Alice Cooper had never seen her daughter finish the dinner as quickly as she did that evening. She made her wait at the table until Polly was done too. With an angry look, Betty left the dining room and headed upstairs, while Polly went off to the living room to watch TV. The younger girl made sure to stomp extra loudly as she walked up the stairs and towards her room. Archie's blinds were shut, and his room was dark.
Hey, mom just told me, she texted him, unsure whether to expect a response or not.
Her phone lit up a minute later, Yeah…
Do you want to talk?
Not over the phone, come over? just this once?
Can't. Already asked.
It's okay
No it's not, I know it's not.
Arch.
It was the very first time Betty Cooper did an insane thing for Archie Andrews. Her Gym sneakers were luckily in her room. She put them on after changing into an older pair of leggings and Archie's hoodie, the one she stole a year ago because he had grown out of it. She stepped outside, through her window, on the small ledge beneath it. The ground seemed much further down, than it had been when she checked the height from the inside. She scraped both of her hands on the pipe, which she used to unceremoniously get to the ground. There was blood all over her hands, and she had landed in her mum's lily bushes. If she had heard any sort of commotion from the inside, Alice Cooper ignored it completely immersed in cleaning the kitchen.
Like a thief in the night, or a spy on a mission, Betty crawled beneath the kitchen window. The dirt from the ground mixed with the blood on her hands. When she knocked on the Andrews' door, it was Fred who opened them, a sullen look on his face. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, unsure of what to say, Betty stared at the man with eyes wide open for a moment.
"Hi," Fred sighed, "Archie's upstairs, taking a shower."
"Oh, okay," she moved towards the staircase, but thought better of it. "I'm sorry Mr Andrews," Betty spoke softly as she turned back to face the older man, "I am."
Fred smiled softly, "Thank you, Betty."
Her footsteps echoed through the empty silent house as she climbed to the second floor. True to his father's words Archie was in the shower. Betty could hear the water running in the bathroom. She waited for him in his room, sprawled across his bed, hands tucked inside the large pocket of the oversized hoodie she wore. When Archie stepped into the room, half dressed and drying his hair with a towel, he failed to notice her in the darkness. She sat up as he looked outside of his window.
Archie let out a high shriek, "Betty!" He turned on the lights.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
He quickly pulled a shirt over his head, "What are you doing here?"
"You said you wanted to talk."
He joined her on his bed, sitting not even an inch from her, "You said your mom wouldn't let you."
"I snuck out," Betty whispered, a playful glint in her eye. She caught his gaze, and for the first time saw how strongly his mother's departure affected him. "Oh, Archie."
She swung her arms around him, pulling him in a tight embrace. Archie was still for a moment, breathing in deeply. His arms then, wrapped around her small form, while his steady breathing became more ragged. Soon enough she heard his first sob. Archie's crying was mostly silent, though every few minutes he would let out a heart-wrenching sob. The two stood like that, at the edge of Archie's bed, for an unknown amount of time.
"I'm sorry," the boy muttered reaching for his best friends hand.
"Don't be," Betty smiled softly.
His cheeks were red stained, and wet from tears, "Betty," confusion replaced the sadness on his face as he looked down at her hands, "what did you do?"
Betty, too, looked down at her bloodied and mudded hands, a frown on her face, "I had to climb down that drain next to my window."
"Betty," Archie repeated, "we need to wash this, so it does not get infected." He tugged on her wrist, pulling her with him to the bathroom. The room still smelled like peaches, Archie's mum's shampoo.
"Wash your hands," he all but commanded as he rummaged through the drawers.
Betty obeyed, running her hands under the stream of water and softly washing away the dirt and dry blood. It stung a little, and she flinched.
"Come on," Archie reached for her hands, slowly patting them with a clean towel. The fresh blood stained the cream coloured cloth and Betty could not help but feel bad. "Okay, now," he placed the towel next to the sink and motioned for her to put her hands on it, palms up. He sprayed a disinfectant solution, the one his mum bought last week, covering her dry palms in a sheet of watery substance. "You should let it dry. I'll be right back."
True to his word, Archie walked back inside the bathroom with two gauzes. He placed each in one of her palms before wrapping each of her hands with a short strip of bandage.
"All fixed," he smiled weakly, caressing the inside of her wrists.
"Thank you," her voice was barely a whisper.
Betty Cooper snuck out of her room to take care of her best friend, but somehow Archie Andrews ended up taking care of her. Later on, thanks to her sister Polly, she managed to sneak back in without being caught thus avoiding her mother's anger, and potential grounding of which the boundaries would be immeasurable.
A/N: First Riverdale/Barchie fic; hope you like it; hope it's good. It's not complete, I'll just add to it when I am content with the number of words/scenes I've written. It's meant to be a bit of a disconnected fic. Purely for my silly Barchie loving heart.