CHAPTER ONE:
By the time you're reading this, I'll be gone. I promise I have a good reason for it, Jug. I promise I'll be back one day. I have some business to take care of. I promise I'll be home before you know it. You were always the good one, Jughead. Continue to be the good one.
Stay safe,
Jetsam
Jughead looked down at the envelope, which contained a picture of Jellybean. He sighed, hoping this was one of his twin's antics. Jetsam always did have a knack for the dramatics. Maybe that's why he listened to plays instead of reading books. Jughead blinked back tears. Their Mom had taken Jellybean away from their father, which meant away from them too. And now, Jetsam was gone.
Of course, Jughead talk to Jellybean, and his Mom. He talked to them whenever he could. Jughead just hated living with their father. Jetsam must have hated it to. But the two had grown up faster than imaginable.
They shared a room. The yelling between their father, FP, and Jetsam was constant. Jughead often watched them shout at one another, the fourteen year old red in the face. Jetsam lived a very unpredictable life.
Just like their father. That's why they didn't get along. Both were wild and unpredictable.
Jughead wiped the tears away. He had pulled this before. He'd be home in a day, two tops. Jughead laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The nerves in his stomach kept him up. The nerves in his throat made it hard to breathe. He couldn't imagine a life without his twin, even though they never really saw eye to eye.
—
Jetsam had a thing for fire. He often imagined himself being lit up, almost like a firework. It was from a young age he had this fascination. Everything he painted was reds, and yellows, and oranges. Jetsam was playing with matches one day. Jughead pulled them away from him.
The older twin had been burning himself on his palms. Jughead began to yell, "Jet, what are you doing? You could really hurt yourself!"
"Good, Jug. I want to hurt myself!" He grabbed another match, and lit it up. Jetsam brought it to his wrist.
Jughead blew it out.
—
Jughead remembered reading stories to Jetsam. He never had the patience to finish books. Plays and musicals though? Yeah, he could listen to those all day lost in magical world of fairytale endings and happily ever afters. Jughead never understood the idea of people singing to move a story along.
Jetsam's favorite story was Harry Potter. He always said he felt more like a Deatheater, though. Angry and mean. Jughead looked down, always telling him he wasn't evil. He was good.
"You're the good one, Jug." Jetsam would poke the top bunk, "I'm just a kid."
"We're both just kids." Jughead would kick down the bottom bunk and continue to read. After a few more pages, Jughead would hear the snores of his twin. He'd mark the page with a bookmark, and continue reading till his eyes were heavy and he could no longer keep them open.
They fought about the most trivial of stuff. Where they would sit in the trunk. What kind of candy they would get— because Jughead always saved his money from his grandparents. Jetsam would spend it all in a day. Jellybean would ask for licorice, and the argument would be settled. They argued about Jetsam's anger induced fights with their father. Sometimes, Jughead would have to hold him back in order to keep them from getting physical.
Jughead wanted to travel back in time to them reading books. Then laughing at movies. But, he didn't understand Jetsam. He didn't understand any part of the red faced boy. Jughead understood him when he was soft. When he hugged Jellybean after she fell down on the steps. Jughead understood this boy, the one that was gone so quickly as he came.
He never stayed for long.
—
Archie didn't like Jetsam. Betty loved him. The four were inseparable. Betty knew how to reel the tempered boy back. Archie knew how to rile him up. Jughead didn't know anything at all about his brother, some days. He didn't know how to figure him out, and that's what bothered him the most.
"Betty!" Jetsam ran over to her, and gave the nine year old girl a hug. Betty squealed, hugging him back tightly. Jughead watched with Archie as the two explored the playground together. Archie grinned, "Wanna play cops and robbers?"
"Sure…" Jughead ran after the other pair, pretending to be cops and very unsure of how this would turn out. Betty and Jetsam sat on a bench. Archie pretended to shoot Jetsam. Jetsam's mouth tightened as he stood up.
"Take it back, Archie!" He screamed. Archie put up his hands, "You were shot—!"
"Take it back!" Jetsam took a step forward. He pulled his sleeves up. Betty stood up, and grabbed his wrist.
"Jetty, what is that?" She pointed to a burn mark. Jetsam snapped his wrist back to his chest. Jughead walked over, and looked at his brother very sternly. Jetsam rolled his eyes, and held out his wrist.
Jughead shoved him away, "You're a brat." Jetsam stepped up closer, his nose touching Jughead's. The two were about the same height. You wouldn't think they were twins, but they were. They both had the same eyes and the same fighting spirit. Young and free.
"What did you say?" He barked at Jughead.
"You're. A. Brat." Jughead pushed his brother down. Jetsam landed with a thud. He glared from his seated position. Jughead noticed his face wasn't red like it normally was when he got mad. His eyes looked glossy, and his chest was flushed. Jughead looked down at his feet, and kicked the dirt. He never got mad, not like this.
Archie helped Jetsam up. Jetsam put his hands in his pocket and walked away. He walked off the playground to Pop's Chocklit Shoppe, where Pop's rang him up a chocolate milkshake. Pop's also called his father, who looked less than thrilled to see him.
Jetsam didn't flinch when he got home.
—
"...Dad! Jughead!" Archie yelled, concern filling his voice. Jughead rubbed his eyes, hearing Mr. Andrews run down the stairs. Jughead swung his legs out before standing up. He walked downstairs, faster than usual but slower than needed. Mr. Andrews bent over, helping someone up. His legs were cut up, and his arms were black and blue, hues of purple in the middle.
Archie pulled out his phone, and called 9-1-1. As Mr. Andrews helped the kid up, Jughead realized he recognized that voice when it said, "Don't."
Jughead knelt down, putting his hands on Jetsam's face, "Jet— Jet, is that— oh, oh my God who did this—?"
"I think we both know who did, Juggie."
A/N: I hope you all enjoy! Just a heads up, it isn't going to be a linear story. There's going to be a lot of flashbacks, and things of that sort (kind of like this chapter). It isn't just going to go in a straight way. Jetsam is going to be a fun character to write, and I am excited to share that with you all. As always, you can find me on tumblr at dodiesrps. Have a nice day!