Quiet. Shy. The girl next door. All phrases that people used to describe Betty Cooper. Sure, some days those were accurate descriptions. More often than not, however, no one had a clue was simmering beneath the surface; wouldn't come close to knowing. Sighing, Betty looked out of her bedroom window, into her best friend's window. Archie Andrews, typically, was up late, talking on his phone to who Betty presumed to be Veronica Lodge, her other best friend. Knowing that those two needed some time to themselves, Betty closed her curtains, and climbed into bed. It was late, incredibly so, and Betty was tired.

As Betty laid in bed, the problem she often found herself facing late at night crept up on her. Despite the late hour, her mind was running rampant. A few short days ago, her life had changed drastically. Her father, Hal Cooper, had revealed himself to be the Black Hood that had stalked the streets of Riverdale. Despite as hard as she tried, Betty couldn't shake the words she had heard him shout at her when she went to see him. She was like him. She had the same darkness inside of her that ran through his own veins.

Betty wasn't even aware that tears had welled up in her eyes; not until they were running down cheeks, making them warm and slick. Biting back the impulse to growl, Betty wiped an aggressive hand across her cheek, willing herself to stop crying. The problem she found herself faced with was this: if her own father could do that to their town, to her mother, Mr. Andrews, Chic…. then what was to stop Betty? Sighing, she realized the answer was simple. Nothing.

Her phone ringing startled her out of her thoughts, and she glanced at it. Jughead's name flashed across her screen but she quickly sent his call to voicemail, knowing that if she answered, he'd hear the tears in her voice and want to comfort her. It wasn't his job to comfort her, not when he had the Serpents to look out for. Sighing, she turned her phone on vibrate, rolled over, and prayed sleep wouldn't elude her too much longer.

XXX

It was the doorbell ringing that woke Betty. Her mom had left a few days ago, to go meet someone Polly wanted her to meet. They had been corresponding with one another intermittently, but, for the most part, Betty hadn't heard from her. Heart in her throat, Betty laid as still as statue as the bell rang again. She wasn't ready to face the reporters or protestors outside of her house. Not now. Not ever again. Just as she was debating what to do, her phone buzzed with a text.

Betts, it's just me. Please let me in. I'm not going anywhere -Jughead;

Fingers digging painfully into her palm, Betty read the text several times, thinking. She felt the pain in her palm and relished in it. When things became too difficult, or too much to bear, Betty needed something to ground herself with. Chic had said he experienced the same darkness, but it was nothing like Betty's. Chic was a liar; an imposter. He took her brother away from her before she ever got the chance to meet him. She would never forgive him for that. Her phone buzzed again.

Elizabeth Cooper, if you do not let me in right now, I'll scale your house and come in through the window. Sure the paparazzi outside would love that. -Jughead;

Rolling her eyes a little, Betty pushed the covers off her and swung her legs out of her bed. Pushing herself to her feet, she made her way through her quiet house. When she reached the front door, she opened it softly, peering through the crack she created.

"Juggie," Betty whispered.

"Oh, Betts," Jughead murmured. "Let me inside."

Standing still for a moment longer, Betty eventually opened the door further, granting him entrance into her home. She heard the shouts from the protestors, the feverish clicking of the cameras, but all of that fell away as she shut the door quickly, locking it securely.

Jughead looked at her. "I'd ask how you're doing but I don't think I want to know if the bags underneath your eyes are anything to go by."

Betty shrugged.

"I'm surviving," she replied quietly. Jughead grabbed her hand, and she winced. Looking at her in concern for a moment, Jughead dropped his eyes to her hand, noting the half-crescent moons littering her palm. And, currently covered in fresh blood.

"Oh, Betts," Jughead murmured again. She laughed humorlessly.

"I'm dealing with it," she said hoarsely. He looked at her for a long moment, before eventually nodding.

"When I didn't see you at the prison yesterday, for Archie's release, I got worried about you," Jughead commented, leading her to the couch. After tucking her legs underneath her, Betty looked at her…boyfriend didn't seem to be the right terminology. They were something more. Something stronger. Sighing, she nodded.

"I couldn't face being at the place that housed my…the Black Hood," she said, wincing at the bitter taste the words left in her mouth. One of the great things about being in a relationship with Jughead Jones was that, somehow, they always understood the words to use. Jughead hummed.

"That man is not you," he whispered, and Betty looked at him beseechingly.

"Jug," she murmured, but he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, shushing her.

"Let me get this out, Betty," he implored, and she fell silent.

"Hal Cooper may be your biological father, but you and he go as far as that, nothing more," he said, and Betty watched him.

"I really need you to listen to what I'm saying. I know you're afraid of the darkness inside of you, but it hasn't consumed you. Not like it did him and Chic. You're nothing like Hal, Betts. You're good. And whole. And warm," he said softly, and Betty listened to his words, replaying them in her mind. Jughead wrapped his arm around her, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know how to move forward, Jug," she admitted honestly. "I don't know if I can."

"You can, and you will, Betty," he promised. "Don't shut me out. Let me help you with this."

"It's safer if you were away from me," she whispered. He squeezed her shoulder, kissing her hairline.

"Shouldn't I be the one to decide what's safe for me?" Jughead asked.

"And, how many opportunities did you let me decide what was safe for me this year when it came to being with you?" Betty countered, and Jughead smiled sheepishly.

"Fair point," he conceded. "But, we've learned from our mistakes; we're not doomed to repeat them."

Betty looked at him and he brushed his lips across the tip of her nose, side of her mouth, and finally landed on her lips.

"Don't shut me out, Betty Cooper. Don't you dare," he whispered, before placing his lips against her forehead and holding them there. Not sure if she could hold on any longer, not sure if she wanted to if she could, she nodded.

"Alright," she murmured. "Alright."

Too bad for her, she didn't know just how drastically things were going to change.

Author's note: Prologue to my new story. I would love to hear what you guys think! Obviously, it'll be based around theories of what may happen in season three, but it's just ideas. Anyways, hope you enjoy! More to come! Xxx