Imagine this instant frozen in time. People will look back at this as the exact moment when that last bit of Riverdale's innocence finally died. When darkness won. Marked by an act that was anything but random.
The death of Jason Blossom changed Riverdale, that we knew.
What we didn't know was that the attempt on Fred Andrews' life set in motion events that would nearly destroy it.
Hours before the shot that changed everything, Betty Cooper—the blonde haired girl next door that I had fallen irrevocably in love with—and I found ourselves in a fateful moment of our own.
"So, what…" Betty asked as she anxiously paced the living room of the Jones' double-wide trailer, "You're a Serpent now?"
Jughead Jones watched expressionless as his girlfriend made what had to have been her hundredth lap around the modestly sized space wondering how on Earth the night had taken such a turn.
They had been in the middle of what could only have been described as the throws of young teenage passion when they had been so unceremoniously interrupted by a group of South Side Serpents who had offered him a leather jacket and with that, a place among their ranks.
"I don't know." Jughead replied, instantly regretting his choice of words.
Betty stopped mid-step and turned to face him, her eyes wide in disbelief, "You don't know?!"
Jughead sighed and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, "Betty, right now a bunch of crap is being slung our way and they're offering protection."
"Juggie, how many times do I need to—"
"No, Betty." Jughead interrupted, his gaze meeting hers, "I can't protect you anymore, not when I'm at South Side High. Not when I'm with my foster family. I know you think you don't need protection, but what happened at school…your locker…"
He tore his gaze away from hers, as the anger he had previously felt started to bubble up inside. Anger and fear that the girl in front of him—the girl he loved so much—was being threatened with the promise of violence…all because she loved him back.
Something in his countenance must have got his message across because Betty was immediately at his side, her hands holding his as she sat down next to him, on top of the crumpled jacket that had started this conversation to begin with.
"If anything happened to you…" he started, his voice failing him as he tried to fight back the emotion that had slowly been creeping into his words.
Betty gave his hands a comforting squeeze before she softly spoke, "How come it's okay for you to worry about me, but I can't worry about you?"
Jughead made a tiny groan in protest, but she continued, "Juggie…I know that your father was a Serpent—that they're like family to him, but they're also a gang. They have done a lot of bad things, Jug. Vandalism, violence, drugs…"
She trailed off letting her words sink in. She shifted a little on the sofa, pulling the jacket out from under her, clutching it in her hands, "You once told me that we are not our parents. You do not have to go down this path. Not if you don't want to.
"I know that so much is changing right now and that there is a lot outside of your control, but you still control your actions and how you respond to the change taking place around you. We can figure something else out. We always do."
They sat in silence for a moment, the full weight of Betty's words sinking in.
Jughead slowly pulled the jacket out of her grip and cast it aside. He slowly raised her hands to his mouth, kissing her knuckles, causing Betty to release a sob that she didn't even know she was holding back.
Wordlessly, he pulled her into his arms and the two remained there, silently wrapped in each other's embrace until they fell asleep.
Jughead woke up to the sounds of birds chirping.
Sunlight was streaming through the blinds of the living room window and Betty was still asleep in his arms.
Smiling to himself at how perfectly cliché this moment was, he found that he didn't care that something so normal, so mainstream made him so impossibly happy. Considering the week they had all just experienced, he would take happiness wherever he could get it.
Which was why in that moment, he decided he would keep the jacket. Be a South Side Serpent in name only out of respect for the group who had always had his father's back and to accept the protection they could provide both him and the sleeping blonde in his arms.
Beyond that, he was done.
The Serpents had always been a point of contention between him and his father, but they had provided key information in the investigation of Jason Blossom's death, not to mention how they came through for Archie's father when his construction business needed help.
Jughead knew it would be foolish to turn away a helping hand when one was offered, but he knew that he could never assume the role in the Serpents that his father once held. He didn't want to. Not when the only thing he wanted had her head resting on his shoulder, hand resting on his chest, deep in a blissful sleep.
Almost as if she could sense his gaze, Betty started to stir. The hand on his chest began to flex as she slowly began to wake and Jughead caught a glimpse of the inside of her palm. He frowned as he saw fresh red marks that couldn't have been more than two days old. Before he could try to get a closer look, Betty gazed up at him, her face beaming with happiness.
Now was not the time.
"Morning." He stated, grinning down at her, "On a scale of one to ten, how pissed do you think your parents are right now?"
Betty laughed and pretended to consider his question, "Probably not any more mad than if I went home after getting breakfast at Pop's."
Jughead let out a surprised laugh, "Fair point. Mommy and Daddy Dearest will be easier to face after a stack of pancakes. Let's go."
They slowly untangled themselves, their limbs stiff, as Betty took in her appearance for the first time.
"Oh my god, Juggie, I am a mess!" She exclaimed, looking down at her clothes.
While Jughead thought that her current disheveled state looked adorable, he knew that there was no way Betty would consider going out in public with her clothes looking so unkempt.
Her shirt was more wrinkled than any article of clothing he'd ever seen and her skirt wasn't much better—what were girls' clothing made out of anyway?
Jughead laughed and motioned for him to follow her, "Come on, Eliza Doolittle. Let's get you presentable."
Betty rolled her eyes, laughing as she let him lead her to his old room. She silently stood in Jughead's room—which is just as she had remembered it from childhood—patiently watching him dig in his dresser.
After triumphantly producing a pair of black sweatpants, one of his white tanks, and a green flannel, he turned his back to Betty giving her some privacy as she quickly changed. Jughead turned around just as she was arranging her hair into an uncharacteristically messy bun.
Betty scrunched her face up as she put the finishing touches on her bun, "What?"
Jughead just shook his head, smiling, "You've just…never looked more beautiful. That's all."
Blushing, Betty walked over to Jughead, running her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders, "Maybe I should wear flannel more often."
"That, Betty Cooper, is an excellent idea." He agreed, grabbing a hold onto her waist.
They leaned in to kiss but were interrupted by the loud noise of Jughead's stomach growling.
They burst into laughter, Betty recovering first, "Come on, let's get some food in you before you waste away."
"We wouldn't want that, now would we?" He chuckled, grabbing her hand as he turned towards the door.
What we didn't know—couldn't have possibly known—was that we were headed straight towards the crime scene of the attempted murder of a man who had stepped in as a father figure to both of us when our own fathers had let us down.
The father of our best friend Archie Andrews.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Even though the plot moving forward is only what I think will happen and original, I am trying to keep this fic as true to the show as possible. Please let me know what you think!
Anything written in bold (that's not an Author's Note ;) is Jughead's literary narration.