Lovely
This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale Universe.
…~*~...
Somehow after high school Betty had been roped into staying in Riverdale. Community college and night courses were her only saving grace. She still took care of the twins and her Mother and Polly. When her Dad was tried for the Black Hood murders, he was sentenced to life in prison, no chance of parole. He'd rot in a cell until everyone in his bloodline stopped speaking of him, until the pictures curled and cracked and broke apart in the landfill they now called home.
Betty took her Mother's office at The Register, while Alice Cooper became top dog, where she should have been the entire time. The pay was more than enough, it kept Betty busy, but it wasn't enough, she felt empty.
She watched as everyone moved away, went off to college, became something better than what they had been in the sleepy town she sat idle in. Betty remained the same. High tight ponytail, pastel and lace plastered over her body, and a tight lipped smile whenever someone greeted her in the street. Even Jughead made it out, despite his Southside Serpent affiliation. They let him go off to any Ivy League school, become a highly educated gang leader. They had shifted from the drug ring to legitimate business endeavors, most of the Serpents had moved on from Riverdale. The Southside was on the up and up after Hiram was taken down by Malachai and his Ghoulies. Not to mention Penny's disappearance shortly before the fall of Lodge Industries, she had the real scoop, courtesy of the Ghoulie King himself. He kept in close contact most of the time. Giving her dirt on the juicy stories coming out of Greendale. Most of all he was a good friend to her.
Veronica ran the speakeasy from a lavish skyrise apartment somewhere with Reggie Mantle, sending Pops enough money every month to keep his own family from financial upset, ever. Archie never did come back after his escape from the juvenile detention center. She heard from him yes, but he never wanted to set foot on the corrupt soil that lined the town with pep.
Reminiscing on a time gone by, Betty settled into a booth in the back corner of Pop's. Shifting out of her coat, she let the cooler air wash over her, bringing her back to the reality she desperately wished to run from.
Without hesitation, Pops brought Betty a mug of coffee. He smiled warmly at her then went to put the order he knew by heart into the cook. Pulling her phone from her purse, she unlocked the screen and began to rifle through the many emails that sat unopened in her inbox.
It was mostly junk, or responses from folks she'd interviewed. E-signatures and things of that nature. Submerging herself in the neverending mundane action of opening, reading, next, Betty ate monotonously. She didn't take note of a single person that made their way into the warm diner. She simply sat, read, ate. Mind numbingly monotonous.
She was on her third or fourth cup of coffee when the bell dinged yet again, she didn't even register the people who filed in anymore. She hadn't looked up from her own business once in six years, she wouldn't start anytime soon. Opening another response, this time she sat up a little straighter, this was a name she hadn't seen or heard in as many years as she'd been alone.
Skimming the email at first, she barely registered the man standing next to her in the restaurant, hands shoved deep inside of pockets that were nearly eye level with her. The clearing of a throat had Betty jumping out of her skin. A hand landing flat over her stuttering heart, she sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes to keep from yelping in shock.
"Excuse me Betty, I didn't mean to startle you." A smile slid over her face, probably for the first time since she was running around the forest with her friends searching for the Gargoyle King.
"That's quite alright, how can I-" words failed her. Forgetting to breath, Betty became slack jawed at the sight of the man beside her. Her hand slid from over heart to her lap under the table. Shifting slightly, she tried to shake the shock from her face. She failed miserably, eliciting a deep chuckle from the devastatingly attractive man she used to know. Eons ago. From a life she didn't ponder, ever.
"Would I be able to sit with you?" His large hand motioned toward the booth seat adjacent to her. She was still mute, nodding her head.
Unzipping the leather jacket to expose a button down flannel beneath, Betty let her eyes roam over the form before her. He was nothing of what he used to be. Gone was the troubled youth desperate to retaliate against the authority that demanded his submission and respect. Gone was the boy who mouthed off and tore at the tightly constructed rules of the small town they grew up in. Instead in his place, sat a dignified handsome creature with an air of arrogance about him, but nothing like what it used to be. It was confidence really, the tell tale signs of maturity and rationale that seeped from his bones and made his eyes twinkle with their knowledge.
"You look, unsettled, Betty. Or is it Elizabeth now? I seen the Register's store front." He winked at her, gaining a smile from her in return.
"Haven't been called Betty in a very long time. Is yours still the same. Or is there a real name I should be learning about?" Waving to Pops, she pointed to her mug of coffee then to the body across from her.
"It'll always be the same. Only my degree and bank account hold my birth name. How have you been?" He leaned in, his large shoulders reminding her of a time she tried with all her might to suppress.
"Oh, you know, been busy." She tried to sound aloof, sunny, bright, typical Betty Cooper.
"Fuckin' liar." It was a simple sentence. One she'd heard him utter a thousand or so times before. In the lifetime before now.
"How would you know?" She was defensive, she knew it.
"I have eyes and ears around this town. Besides, I know you." Pops poured fresh coffee into the empty kug before her, then repeated the action with the new mug set opposite her own.
"So your minions send you word, of what? How I stay working, ignoring the degradation of what used to be my life? So what." Clenching her fist under the table, she felt the familiar pinch of nail meeting palm. She stopped herself from going too far, instead allowing the pads of her fingers to run over the keloid scars she'd given herself.
"Stop that." He looked dangerously at the table top concealing her balled up fist.
"Oh what are you, Jughead Junior? Don't tell me what to do." Begrudgingly, she pulled her fists up from her lap, resting them on the edge of the table in front of her.
"You of all people should know I'm not Jughead. Or don't you remember?" His dark molasses eyes darted to her lips. He remembered everything, down to the last detail and he wanted her to remember too.
"I remember. Why are you here?" Dismissing the memories they both shared, Betty sat up rigid, her tense musculature making up for the ferocious way her heart beat when he looked her mouth over with wanting.
"I came back for you. I told you I would." He was slack in his posture, reminiscent of his boyhood. What really brought it all together was the way he lazily half smiled at her, his eyes narrowing with smugness.
"You're about four years too late. I have a life here, a home, bills, a man." She tried to sound like an adult instead of a sulking twenty something, but yet again, Betty Cooper had failed.
"Give me a break Betts. I said I have eyes and ears here. Don't lie to me." He leaned back, resting his broad shoulders into the back of the booth. "I don't know why you do this every time. Jughead sent me away and you damn well know it."
"I don't know why you keep coming back. You should have just stayed gone." Her nails dug deliciously into the protruding half moons of her hands. The pressure sent sparks of excitement from her palms through her veins, lapping over her tense forearms. It was a feeling that let her know she was still alive.
Leaning over the middle of the table, large hands enveloped her tight fists. She breathed deep at his familiar touch. His thumbs drew languid circles over her splotched white knuckles.
"At least let me see him." She met his eyes this time, sinking into the familiar pools of molten bitter chocolate that pulled her in every time. Inwardly she cursed herself, for letting him touch her, for allowing herself to fall back into this so easily.
"He's with my Mom." Her voice was so soft, full of emotion, it nearly broke his own heart, had it not been broken since he was a child himself.
"How do you think I found you?" Her eyes were saucer sized, tears filling her lash lines.
"She's your eyes and ears?" Betty felt the familiar ball surface in her aching esophagus, threatening to push her over the edge.
"Once a Serpent, always a Serpent. What can I say, she always did like me better than Jug." That smug smirk was back. His thumbs had managed to massage her fingers open, allowing him to smooth over her scars.
"Who else?" Her heart was a kick drum hammering violently beneath her ribcage with every sweep of his thumbs over her flesh. Her body was quite the traitorous bitch itself; desperate to feel his thumbs in other areas, a familiar heat gathering far in her nether regions.
"Malachai. Truce does wonders for a mole. I heard about you two by the way. Not cool Betts. I think that was the point though. You'd hoped I'd find out. I did." He had her right where he wanted her. Vulnerable, ready to forgive his plight, ready to let him back in.
"I wasn't thinking. He was there when you left. He pulled me back together. It was short lived anyway. He only comes by to check on us now. Gives me stories to run. Keeps the checks coming." Blushing deep red, a tear escaped her eye, rolling thick and fat over her face, falling with a splat over his thick fingers covering her palms.
"He's a good friend, to both of us. I'd be lying if I said I understood why you slept with him of all people. I'd also be lying if I said I didn't find the first hot blonde and brought her to bed. You ripped my heart out babe." He felt the pang of guilt in his chest as understanding filtered into her face.
"He was the closest thing I could get to you. He wasn't you, but he loved me enough." Betty swiped at her face with the hand she was able to dislodge from the tight grip he had on her.
"I bet he did." Shaking his head, he felt bad for what he said immediately. "I don't wanna do this right now. I wanna see him Betts. Please?"
"Alright, but you have to promise, that you're not going anywhere. That we aren't going to be an afterthought. He's almost five now. He needs his father. Uncle Mal isn't a substitute for that. He needs you. I need you Sweet Pea." Betty clutched the hand that clung to her opposite arm.
"I'm here now babe. Jughead let me go. Finally." A large hand cupped her cheek, his thumb now running over the dampness there.
"You're not going to leave us again?" Sniffling, Betty did her best not to let the floodgates go.
"I'm here to stay. No more runs. No more nomad status. No more Uncle Malachai pickin' up the slack. Daddy's home." Leaning across the table Sweet Pea's lips found hers. Grateful for Betty's reception, he held her face in his palms. He'd make it up to her. If it took him a hundred years, he'd make up for every moment, every breath he'd missed. And wasn't it lovely?