A/N: This takes place after the season 1 finale. Talk about hot and heavy – so sad Bughead's make out was interrupted, but at the same time, who doesn't want to see Jughead in a leather jacket? Anyways, this is my interpretation of what will follow. Writing this down helps (a little bit) with the anxiety of having to wait months for answers in season 2! I hope you enjoy. I expect this to be a longer piece with several chapters. Currently the story is rated T, but later on it might change.
Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Archie comic characters or the CW storyline.
Chapter 1: Bloody, Pulpy Fiction
If someone had told Betty Cooper last summer that she would be dating a Southside Serpent within the year, she would've spat her milkshake in the person's face. And yet, here she was doing just that.
Two weeks had passed since Fred Andrews was shot in Pop's Diner. He survived thanks to the quick response time of the paramedics, but barely. The paramedics immediately took Fred to the hospital where the doctors rushed him into surgery. The bullet had caused a lot of internal damage, and the doctors had to remove part of his intestine. His recovery was slow and arduous. After two weeks, Fred was still set up in intensive care, a tube down his throat, his chest rising and lowering with the rhythm of the machine. The doctors were unsure how soon he would recover or if he would ever go back to normal. Archie barely left his side.
As for Betty's relationship with Jughead, Betty wasn't sure what to think. A part of her felt guilty for what happened to Fred, as if her speech at the Jubilee had somehow instigated the attack. She knew that thought was ridiculous, but the sentimental part of her hated feeling out of control, hated that she didn't know how she could help Archie's family. Betty blamed her mother for instilling this need in her to be useful or in control all the time. Betty didn't even know how to turn to her boyfriend, Jughead, about all this. She wanted to trust him, but that slithering serpent up the back of his new jacket put a wedge between them.
After the serpents stopped by the night of the Jubilee, Betty didn't stick around long. Peering through the doorway of F.P's trailer, Betty eavesdropped on Jughead's conversation with Big Red, the new leader of the Southside Serpents. It wasn't the conversation necessarily that disturbed her, but more so the dark grin that spread across Jughead's face as soon as he put on the jacket. For a minute, it felt like Betty didn't know him at all.
"Why did you accept that?" she asked Jughead as soon as the serpents left, her hands on her hips. She'd put her shirt and jacket back on, the belt of the pea coat tied slightly too tight around her waist. It pressed against her ribs, constraining her breath. She could still feel the heat of Jughead's fingers on her hips, the memory of him lifting her onto the kitchen counter pressed on her skin like a fresh sunburn.
"I don't know," he said. He didn't look her in the eye. Jughead looked strange in the new jacket, even more odd without his hat. Almost like a stranger.
"Are you a serpent now?"
"I don't know, Betts."
"What do you know?" Betty said, gesturing wide with her arms, taking two steps towards him. She saw him flinch from her tone. Betty looked away from him, taking a deep breath to calm down. "I… I think I'm going to go."
He reached out to touch her arm, the leather of his jacket crinkling at the elbow. "Please, stay. I'm sorry…"
"Don't. Not now, Juggie. Tonight was…" She paused, making eye contact with him. Strange? Amazing? Terrible? She didn't know how to finish her own sentence. How could she be both mad at him and want him more than anything at the same time? "I don't know what to think about tonight," she said finally.
"Betts, I…" He stopped, lost for words. A rare moment for her articulate, brooding boyfriend to struggle to find the right thing to say. Most of the time he was philosophical or had a sarcastic quip to alter the mood. The rare times he got like this and struggled to find something to say, she found it endearing, especially when he struggled to articulate how he felt about her. But not tonight.
Betty reached up, her hand hesitating over his shoulder before she changed her mind and held his cheek. She wasn't ready to touch the leather, acknowledge this change in Jughead. "Goodnight, Juggie."
She moved to leave, but he held her hand to his cheek. His touch was warm, so comforting. That earlier stirring in her stomach woke up again. Obviously she'd desired Jughead for months now, even fallen in love with him, but tonight had been different. The way they touched each other earlier was new to both of them. His grip on her body had been hard, the kisses down her neck lustful. It was as if an animal had been hiding in her lower abdomen, buried dormant in an egg for her whole life. But Jughead had woken the animal up. The animal was pecking at the shell of the egg, trying to break free and come out. Whatever animal it was wanted Jughead bad.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" He said, looking into her eyes. "Please?"
She nodded, looking at the door. Betty pulled her hand away. She tried not to notice the hurt expression on Jughead's face. Without saying another word, Betty left the trailer and walked home. She thought she would cry, but somehow her face remained dry the entire walk home.
The next morning, she had no time to agonize over Jughead. Her mother, Alice, shook her awake.
"Betty, wake up," Alice said. "We have to go."
Groggy, Betty blinked twice looking around confused. The clock read 8:46 AM. "Go where mom?"
"The hospital. Fred Andrews…" Alice paused, letting go of her daughter's shoulders. "He's been shot."
All sleepiness dissipated. Betty sat up more awake than she'd ever been for any cheerleading practice. "What? By who?"
"I don't know the details, Betty, but we should go," Alice said. "He's in critical condition."
Even though Alice wasn't the biggest fan of the Andrews family, Betty saw the concern splayed across Alice's face. This was serious.
Not bothering to shower, Betty got dressed and threw her hair up into a bun. Barely glancing at her mirror, she knew it wasn't her usual pristine ponytail, but that didn't matter today. The two women rushed to the hospital, Alice speeding the whole way.
When they arrived, they found Archie in the waiting room, pacing back and forth. His cast on his arm and his shirt were soaked with blood. His face was paler than usual, almost a sickly blue, the same colour as the ice he had to break through to get to Cheryl.
Betty rushed to her oldest friend, pulling him into her arms. "Archie, are you okay? What happened? What can I do?" All the questions rushed out of her mouth. She wasn't sure which once was the priority.
"Who did this Archie?" Alice asked.
"I, I –" Archie stuttered, stepping back from Betty. "I don't know. Someone tried to rob Pop. We were there for breakfast." He shook his head and reached up to grasp his flaming orange hair. "Dad just wanted to get breakfast and talk."
Horrified, Betty wanted to reach out and hold him again, but she felt stiff. She'd never seen Archie this scared. His world was falling apart in front of him –Fred was the most important person in his life. Betty wanted to hug Archie, tell him everything would be fine, but she couldn't move.
Alice glanced at Betty, and seemed to somehow understand her daughter's predicament. In a rare show of affection to the Andrews boy, Alice stepped forward and pulled Archie into a hug. "Archie, it's okay. I know you're scared. Let's just wait and hear from the doctor. We're here for you."
Archie gave in to Alice's embrace, his head tucked on her shoulder, and he wept. He wept the same way he did that day when he was six years old when Reggie Mantle had shoved him into a ditch, scraping up Archie's chin and knees. That was the last time Betty had seen her mother hug Archie. So many years had passed, but somehow Archie looked the same in this moment at the hospital as he did as a child. Betty almost felt like laughing at such a ludicrous memory in such a serious moment.
"Do you want us to call anyone?" Betty asked after a few moments, finally getting the strength to speak and move again.
"I haven't called anyone," Archie said, regaining some semblance of control. Wiping his damp cheeks as he pulled away from Alice, Archie smiled faintly at Betty's mom in gratitude. "Well, I called my mother. She's flying in."
"And the police?" Alice asked.
"The server at Pop's called both the police and the ambulance. Pop is alright, just some bruises and a cut above his eye," Archie said.
"Oh Arch," Betty said. She wanted to cry at how thoughtful he was thinking of Pop even when his own family was under duress. Betty didn't know what other words of comfort she could offer at the moment. "I'll make some calls."
"While Betty is doing that, let's go get some answers about Fred's condition," Alice said. She had her serious journalist face on. No one said no to Alice Cooper when she looked like that.
Walking down the hallway, Betty called Veronica first. Her best friend was half asleep when she answered.
"Ronnie, you better get to the hospital. I don't mean to scare you, but this is a major emergency," Betty said.
"What's happened, B?" Veronica asked. Betty heard her shuffling around, probably getting out of bed.
"Archie's dad was shot this morning," Betty said. She was surprised at how easy the words slipped out of her mouth. "Someone tried to rob Pop's when they were at breakfast, and Fred was shot in the mix up."
"Oh my god, oh my fucking god," Veronica said. "But, but Archie was just here. He just left my place this morning!"
Betty raised her eyebrows and glanced at her phone. She and Veronica would definitely have to have a chat later.
"Fuck, okay I'm on my way," Veronica said. "Is Archie alright?"
"Well, he's not physically hurt," Betty said. "Which is as okay as he can be right now. Just get here quick. He needs you."
The two of them hung up. Betty stared at her phone. She knew she needed to call Jughead, but she paused over his name in her contact list. Whatever happened last night, Archie's father was much more important. Betty tapped his name so her phone began dialling.
"Betty?" Jughead sounded like he was already awake, which was surprising. "I'm glad you called. I was thinking we should –"
"Juggie, there's no time to chat. I don't mean to be abrupt, but we have an emergency. You need to get to the hospital ASAP," she said. Betty explained as much as she knew about Fred's condition. "Please hurry," she finished.
"Holy shit, I'm on my way," Jughead said. They hung up. She was both relieved they didn't have to talk about last night yet, as well as guilty for thinking about her relationship during a time like this.
Betty sat with Alice and Archie in the waiting room. Despite her harassment, the nurses didn't have much of an update for Alice. Fred was in surgery, and that's all they knew so far.
"No bad news is good news," Betty tried to comfort Archie. She reached around Archie's back and rubbed her hand up and down his spine.
Alice went in search of coffee or tea.
Archie barely spoke. "I can't get the look on his face out of my head, Betty," he said. "My dad was so scared. So fucking scared. He pushed me aside so he took the bullet. All I could do was hold him while he bled on the floor." After that, Archie put his head in his hands. Although he didn't cry again, Betty felt like the slow rocking back and forth was almost worst.
Instead, Betty talked to him. She told him whom she called, assured him his mother was on her way, the police were doing their best, and that the surgery would go well. Betty hated how unsure she felt. Everything that came out of her mouth felt like a lie. She knew it wasn't a lie, but she hated that she couldn't guarantee any answers. Archie deserved answers.
Nurses and patients rushed by them, pushing through the doors to the emergency room. Usually hospitals felt so slow to Betty, as if nothing happened fast enough. That morning, everything felt like it was going by too quickly.
Veronica showed up first. Like Betty, she clearly had dressed in a rush. Obviously she still looked more fashionable than Betty, but Betty ignored that thought as she watched Ronnie pull Archie into an anxious hug.
Kevin showed up not much later. Betty hadn't called him, but Kevin explained his sheriff father had told him what happened.
Finally, Jughead walked in. Although Jughead was back in his flannel jacket with suspenders hanging around his waist, Betty felt like she could still see the leather around his shoulders. The serpent jacket had stained him. Betty quivered. She looked at him, looked away, then looked back again.
Jughead gave her a pleading look before he rushed to Archie. "Arch," Jughead said. "I'm so sorry. How's your dad doing?"
"No word yet," Alice answered for Archie. "Still in surgery."
The group of them waited together, taking turns pacing or running out for snacks and drinks. No one was hungry, but Betty could tell they were all desperate for something to do.
Betty went outside to get some air, and Jughead followed her. Betty sat on a concrete meridian near the parking lot.
"Betty," Jughead said. He sat down next to her. They were within arms distance, but he'd given her a little more space than he usually did.
The cold winter air tickled Betty's neck. Despite the cold, the sun had reached high in the sky, peeking between two grey clouds like a spy peering out between two curtains. Betty felt uncomfortable and out of her element. This felt like a situation that should be happening in the evening, not before lunch, but she cursed herself for such a ridiculous thought. Betty had to restrain herself from pressing her nails into her palms. She wanted to break the skin and feel something. Instead, she gripped her kneecaps through her jeans.
"Can I have a cigarette?" Betty asked.
"What?" Jughead was taken aback.
"A cigarette. Do you have any?"
"Yeah, um… Sure. Are you okay?" Jughead wasn't a heavy smoker, but he always carried a pack with him. He once explained to Betty he'd started carrying smokes around as a preteen for his dad, but occasionally Jughead smoked one himself when he was stressed. He reached into his jacket pocket and passed her a cigarette.
"Lighter?" Betty asked, holding the Marlboro between two fingers.
Jughead dug in his jeans pocket for his lighter. Betty placed the cigarette between her lips and leaned towards him. Jughead lit her cigarette, holding her gaze with his the entire time. Jughead's eyes were dark, pupils dilated.
Once the cigarette was lit, Betty looked away. She took a sharp draw from the cigarette, and barely restrained a cough.
"Betty, can we talk about last night? I feel like we left it on a movie cliffhanger, and I barely slept stressing," Jughead said.
"Juggie, I… I can't just yet. I'm sorry. I'm too focussed on Arch and Fred right now," she said. Closing her eyes, Betty leaned forward and took two harsh inhales. She never smoked and her mother would kill her if she caught Betty, but the little cancer stick somehow felt stabilizing. Finally, Betty looked at Jughead. "Later, I promise."
Jughead pursed his mouth in a half frown, half smile. Sighing, he pulled out a second cigarette for himself and lit it up. The two of them sat together in silence.
Halfway through the cigarette, Betty turned towards Jughead. She reached her leg over the meridian so she was straddling the concrete. She inched closer to her boyfriend.
Jughead looked at her, and without saying anything, lifted his leg over the meridian so he also straddled it. They faced each other.
Reaching up with her hand not holding the cigarette, Betty pulled his face to hers. She kissed him hard. Her hand slid up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair.
Jughead reached out with his free hand and gripped her hip, pulling her body even closer to his so her legs ended up overlapping his. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, allowing them to taste each other. Betty had never liked the taste or smell of cigarettes, but today it was both comforting and sexy. They kissed each other until they both needed to catch their breath.
Once she pulled away, gasping slightly, Betty slid her body back down the meridian. The concrete felt extra cold through her jeans, her skin hot underneath. Betty lifted her leg back over the meridian and pressed her legs together. She needed to control herself. Betty took a sharp inhale on her almost forgotten cigarette, feeling guilty. How could she be thinking about Jughead at a time like this? Shooting a look in his direction, Betty almost resented him for distracting her.
Squishing the cigarette under her shoe, Betty stood up.
"Wait, I'll come in with you," Jughead said. His cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold or their kiss, Betty didn't know.
"No, it's okay, take your time. I'll see you back in there," Betty said. She gave his flannel shoulder a squeeze before heading back in on her own.
Two weeks later, it felt like not much had changed. Betty never thought of herself as philosophical – she left that to Jughead – but time seemed to be slipping past her quicker than usual, like sand slipping through an hourglass.
Everyone seemed to be moving too fast, even herself. Somehow Betty had been dragging herself to school and going through the motions, although she barely paid attention. Two weeks since the incident, Archie hadn't come back to school yet, so Veronica was bringing him his assignments.
Cheryl, for some reason still unknown to the group, had missed a week of school. Betty and her friends heard through the news that Thorn Hill had fallen victim to arson. According to Kevin through his father, Cheryl and her mother were claiming someone had attacked their home in retaliation to Clifford Blossom's actions. The police were investigating.
Veronica was trying to be supportive for Archie, keeping him company in the hospital as much as possible, but Betty also knew she was stressing about her father. Hiram Lodge was getting out of prison in two more weeks.
Jughead had officially transferred to Southside High, although Betty couldn't accept it yet. The distance between them felt like it was growing, and the two of them hadn't even had a proper conversation yet about what was going on. Technically the jacket meant he was a part of the Southside Serpents, but Betty didn't know how involved that meant.
There was a lot of speculation about the incident at Pop's. The police struggled to find more information. Most people wondered if it was a random break in, but no one had tried to rob Pop's for twenty-five years. The last time had been a sullen teenager with a knife looking for extra cash. Nothing as serious as the present incident.
Other people, like Betty, speculated it was something more. It seemed too randomly specific, or maybe she was reading too much into how much she and her friends had been through the past few months. Did someone have it out for Fred Andrews? Was the robbery a cover up so the assailant could specifically target Archie's father? Betty had no answers. Not yet at least.
Betty could barely sleep thinking about all of this, not to mention her dense dreams about Jughead. Every night Betty woke breathing hard, sweat beading across her chest and forehead. The dreams were almost always the same – him in leather, on top of her, pinching her hips, groping her breasts, and peeling off her clothes. She seemed to wake up before anything escalated, a frustrating dream version of ground hog day.
Despite the snow, Betty got up early that morning in December and went for a run, stretching her legs as far as she could. Winter break was about to start. She ran a solid 7 KM before heading home, finishing the last 500 M at a sprint. When she reached home, Betty had to bend over to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and the blood pounded in her ears, neck, and chest.
Suddenly, she had an idea. She'd been avoiding Jughead, afraid of what he might say. Not anymore. No matter what, if he was a Southside Serpent or not, Betty wanted him back at school with her, back in her life. She loved Jughead. She needed him.
First things first, she'd get him on board with helping her investigate what happened to Fred. No offense to Kevin's dad, but the police barely knew what was up in this town. Betty knew nothing brought her and Jughead together quite like solving a case. Once they were working on that, Betty could figure out how to get him back at Riverdale High. She couldn't deny anymore how sexy seeing Jughead in that jacket had been, but she wasn't about to settle and accept the fact that he was a serpent.
If Betty wanted to get her way, she would have to play the role of a different kind of serpent, creeping into the belly of the beast. She would slither in and get Jughead away from that crowd, get him back home to her where he would be safe, and solve the case along the way.
Still out of breath from her run, Betty marched back into her house. She smiled to herself. Maybe she was being too idealistic, but she didn't care. If she had to embrace Dark Betty to make sure Jughead was safe, as well as figure out who hurt Archie's dad, so be it. Like the sexual animal waking up in her abdomen, Betty was ready to embrace her darker side.
A/N: Well, that's chapter one! Let me know what you think. I expect this to be a longer piece. I know there's not much of Jughead in this chapter, but I promise there will be more in the next chapter.
Also, anybody else have Believer by Imagine Dragons stuck in their head today? Seriously I can't get over that finale.
