Confronting Reality

Chapter 1: Jason's jacket and the consequences.

Set at the end of 1x08. Jughead knows that his father had Jason's jacket. Now he has to confront his dad about it. In which FP's not a good father, and Archie's a good friend.

Sometimes, it is better to stay blind than to discover the truth. In fact, I am sure I would have been better without knowing that my dad was a drunken ass, but just like the later, some truth can't be ignored. Jason Blossom's death was not a truth people could ignore. And with the murderer still on the loose, people were looking for the truth more intensely than before.

Some realities would be faced this night. Some truth would be spilled, and I wanted nothing more than to stay in the dark. But this was concerning me. It was between me and my dad. I knew I could not stay in the dark any longer.

Jughead Jones pushed the door to his father's caravan. He had come here more often in the last weeks than in the last year, but it was still hard to enter a beer bottle-filled dump. Emerging from the couch, his father immediately rose, attempting to hide -too late- another bottle from his son's view. The teenager did as if he hadn't seen it.

"Hey! Jughead." His father smirked. "It's late. What you doin here at this time?"

"I have questions."

The hooded-boy had decided not to care about anything anymore. His father wanted to play it cool? He would show him cool: cold-blooded interrogation. He entered, leaving the door to close itself, and stopped two feet from his father, crossing his arms in front of him to express more than his usual expression of disinterest. His father seemed to understand that this was not a time to be trivial.

"Where did you find Jason's jacket?"

FP did not budge. He took a sharp intake of air but his facial expression did not convey anything. He had a long experience of not-showing-any-emotion-to-anyone. On this point, he and his son were on the same level. Sometimes, FP believed that it was the only common characteristic they had. So instead of displaying fear and forfeit, he showed interrogation and a bit of anger.

"His what now? Do I look like a guy collecting jackets?"

"Don't try to show me off, I know you had it."

"And that makes you think I did it?"

Jughead paused to ponder. He would have believed his dad if he had said he didn't do it, but with everything happening at the moment, and with his paternal being so vague about everything, he couldn't be sure. Especially since Kevin came by his locker one day and asked him why his father had Jason's jacket with him. Apparently, Joaquin had given it to him, saying that he knew what to make of it. Now he was left to wonder why, although a small part of him already knew. He settled on believing him. At least in the meantime.

"I want to believe you, but you have to give me more." He answered. "Why did you have it?"

He felt like he was repeating himself again and again, but this time FP was quick to answer. He quickly lifted his head and took his bottle up from the coffee table where he had left it. He took a sip before answering, more relaxed than before.

"One of my Serpent's found the poor boy's jacket in the forest. Gave it to me 'cause he didn't want to be caught with it."

"It was in his car. By the forest. Next to the drug. And it still was when we discovered it. Before the fire y' know?"

"Guess he lied."

The hesitation in his father's voice was inexistent yet the teen stayed silent a moment, before uncrossing his arms and taking the bottle away from his father, putting it down on the closest table.

"You lied to me, don't play dumb." Jughead was still very serious, but his nerves were starting to take the better of him. He usually never loses his temper like this. "The drugs. You said the Serpents gave them to him. The car was in flames right after we found it! Don't tell me you have nothing to do with this."

"The drug? Is that why you ask me why I had it?"

"Can you please answer the damn question?!"

He had raised his voice. Damn if that never happened.

"Calm down, son. I took care of it. You don't have to worry about getting arrested anymore."

Jughead found it unbelievable that his father knew so little of him. Of course, he didn't want to be arrested, but that was not the point here. He was already cleared of suspicion. His father must be hiding something from him.

"You think getting arrested is worse than knowing there's a murderer in Riverdale? Dad, tell me. You took Jason's jacket out of his car, didn't you?"

He met the blank expression of his father staring right back at him. The aforesaid father took a step back, switched off the TV that was harassing both of their ears and kept his back turned from his son a minute, before facing him again.

"It was for the greater good. I don't want you involved in that kind of trouble, Jug. The Serpents, the drugs, the murder. If the sheriff had found the car, it would have led to us. We don't want that."

"Don't you care about Jason at all? That maybe you have been holding a proof that could incriminate the real culprit?"

"They don't want to find the real culprit, they want to see us behind bars!"

Jughead paused, lowering his head.

"Are you still talking about us or are you talking about the Serpents..."

He didn't raise his voice, didn't make his father believe it was a question when the answer was so clear in his head. He was tempted to believe his father's innocence, he really was, but here, surrounded by the bottles and the Serpent's belongings, he couldn't. Jughead turned away, facing the door again.

"Wow, where you goin'?" FP asked.

"Archie's."

"You won't..." His father was restless now. "tell him, right?"

"No..." He halted briefly, taking his phone out of his pocket. "I already did."

FP took a second to wonder how deep in shit he was now, before uttering a "WHAT?" more surprised than indignant. Jughead looked at him with eyes wider than he ever had. His father took a menacing step toward him, and the young boy stopped typing to observe him carefully.

"'D'you know how long it took me to regain a stable situation and become the Serpent's chief? You want to ruin everything by telling your dog?"

"Hey, stop that." Jughead frowned. "Archie's a good pal."

He was better than a 'good pal' in truth, but he had no time to argue since his father didn't seem to listen to him anymore.

"I don't care! You're ruining my plan!" FP yelled.

"You have a plan?"

"You're ruining everything, as always!"

"Now, that's a breather. " Jughead said, sarcastically. "I was really hoping not to make the situation easy for us."

"SHUT UP!"

FP paced the small room, storming past every object and not caring if pens and papers ended up on the floor. He was obviously thinking about a new plan, so Jughead thought the conversation was over and that it was the perfect moment for him to leave his father to his thinking. Archie was waiting for him outside, after all. He had just come to confront him about the jacket, he didn't plan on staying much longer. He would investigate on his father's "plan" later, now was not the time. Jug pushed the door slightly but before he could do anything more, a hand grabbed his collar.

"Oh no, you're not leaving this house. I don't want you to go tell on the rooftops that Forsythe Pendleton Jones had the dead kid's jacket with him."

"Now you're being paranoid. I'm not the one to trumpet my success if this was even one."

"But you'll tell Andrews and your girlfriend too."

Betty? He didn't want her to get involved but... he guessed that now that they were together, he had to tell her too. After all, he didn't want to have another stupid secret tearing up their relation.

"You're not leaving until I found a solution."

"Yeah, well dream on."

Jughead brought his hand up to the door, but before he could do anything, he had his collar grabbed once again and he was jerked to the wall. The caravan shook completely. For the first time since the beginning of the evening, the teen could see his father's face wholly. It was emotionless, yet a spike of anger torn the corner of his mouth down. He violently took Jughead's phone from his hands and crashed it on the ground.

"Hey!"

Jughead shook himself free to retrieve his poor mobile.

"If you leave..."

"Yeah, what'll you do?"

Jughead saw his father's fist, his head smacked the wall and his body went down along it. In the first time, he heard the impact more than he felt it. Only then the power of the assault caught up with him. His head was resonating with the impact of the wall and he was left breathless, trying to find out what happened and why there was blood in his mouth. He raised a hand to his face. His whole left cheek was on fire.

Jughead was gradually figuring out that his father had punched him. He was still spread on the floor, his phone on the ground next to him. There was no more sound echoing in the small room. His father had apparently stopped pacing. Now that he could see him again, he looked as shocked as him. The thin wall of the caravan allowed him to hear footsteps outside. He really didn't want to have to deal with more problems now.

"Jug, I... " FP tried to explain himself, but the words died on his lips.

Interrupting the scene, the door burst open. Archie was standing there, studying the scene with panicked eyes.

"What happened? I saw the caravan shake and..."

His vision landed on Jug on the floor, then on the adult which still had his fist in a ball, and Archie saw red. Without thinking, he grabbed Jug's arm and lifted him from the ground with more force than necessary. He utters a quick "Let's move" before rushing out of the caravan, Archie preceding his friend, the two of them still full of adrenaline, leaving a stunned FP behind.

Not far from here, Archie's car was still growling with the engine on and the ginger dashed his way to it. Jughead was limp, and with every spontaneous movement that the red-haired boy made his body was jerked forward, lead by the hand grabbing his sleeve.

Instinctively, he opened and entered the car, slamming the door with force. He was not buckled up yet that the car was already leaving the parking lot, and the caravan slowly became nothing more than a building crushed by the other ones as they left the area, car driving like hell through the dark alleys of the city.

"What was that?"

Archie did not leave the eyes of the road, and Jughead stared at him an instant before answering.

"He hit me..."

He was talking to himself more than answering the question. Archie's hands clutched the wheel, mouth twisted with a cringe. He wanted to argue, but he knew that this was not the right moment. He was respectful enough not to ramble about everything he had in mind.

"I believed him Arch, and he hit me..." Jughead suddenly spoke.

Archie couldn't stay silent any longer.

"Don't. Please. Don't try anymore."

"You're saying he's not worth it?"

Archie knew the right answer and he hoped that his friend would agree. The boy has already suffered too much.

"He is, maybe, but it's not your problem to deal with. Not anymore. Please."

The beanie-boy looked up to his friend. Archie was giving him pleading looks on small intervals.

"But who will?"

"I don't know. Let it be. Please, Jughead..."

He bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted him to be safe, he wanted him to feel good, he wanted them to laugh again. He wanted Jason's murder not to be the reason why they had started talking again. His eyes focused on Jughead and he said:

"...Come home."