Archie stood there numbly, his mind racing but a million miles away. His chest felt tight and he was sweating. He felt adrenaline pump through his veins yet he felt so tired.

How did a simple morning breakfast become this?

He could hear shouting between Pop and another man, probably the one who had smashed all the plates and glasses across the floor.

He caught eyes with his dad, who stared straight back, shaking his head pleadingly.

'Don't show yourself. Don't put yourself in danger. Stay where you are. Things are going to be okay.'

His eyes remained fixated on his father, his fear certainly evident in them.

'Dad, I'm scared.'

It was at that point where Fred stood up, giving his son one last, 'You're going to be okay. I'll protect you, just don't move.' look before turning to face the man wrecking havoc for money in a diner.

"Give me your wallet!" Archie heard a man growl, and watched as his dad calmly raised his hands. The man then came into view, however he could not see the man himself for he wore a black mask.

He repeated himself, and Archie shrunk back into the corner, not hiding in the bathroom, but not staying on the scene either.

Archie's heart stopped as the man took a side glance down the isle, and locked eyes with him. He saw his dad look at him too, eyes wide with fear and horror as the gun turned to him.

"Get over here, kid! Now!"

He heard his dad shout, "No, wait! Here! Please leave him be!" But Archie's eyes remained fixated at the gun pointing at him. He silently obeyed the man, coming foward timidly and slowly. He reached the corner of the isle, right infront of the man and he could feel his dad's presence and few feet away. He felt scared.

Archie saw Pop behind the armed man with a phone held up to his ear, he locked contact with Archie, mouthing, "They're on their way, just hold on."

The man cocked his gun to the side, still staring at Archie. "Anything valuable, kid?"

"N-no I-"

"Nothing! Please, take my wallet and go! No one has to get hurt today." His dad all but yelled. He turned around to his Dad, both of their fearful eyes strangely comforting Archie. He didn't feel alone.

"You can take the rest of the money from the past night, which is still behind the counter, please just leave us be!" Pop chimed in.

The man seemed to survey the situation, as if considering. That was until he heard the sirens in the distance and his eyes widened in panic. He looked at the Father and Son, aware they hadn't made any move to call the police, so he turned to Pop, keeping the gun on Archie, "You called them!"

Pop dropped the phone, raising his hands and stuttering an apology. It was then that the man seemed ready to escape, only for Pop to shout "Don't!"

The man appeared to realise that the two older men would try to stop him from leaving, however Archie knew he himself would remain frozen, knowing his Dad wouldn't stop the man if his son was in danger.

Suddenly, the man faced Archie, a look of anger, panic, and... guilt... in his eyes. Archie knew what was about to happen, yet he had barely anytime to process it before a loud gunshot echoed through the room, and his lower ribs began to burn as he was pushed back by a strong force.

A distraction.

He faintly heard his Dad and Pop yelling as he stumbled backwards, his hand automatically reaching out for something as he fell. Yet he was caught by two big, broad and safe arms, and lowered down gently.

Dad.

"Archie. H-hey kiddo." He said as he manouvered his son so that his legs were underneath Archie's and he was in his arms.

Fred placed a hand on top of where Archies' rest against the wound, his hand already warm and sticky the moment it made contact.

'Oh God. Please no, not him. Not Archie. Not yet. Not my baby boy.' His thoughts raced.

Archie coughed slightly, his arm reached up to grab at his Dads'. He needed to feel safe. He was scared, so he needed his Dad to protect him. His eyes found his Dad's, who smiled down at him and asked shakily, "You with me?"

Archie felt too tired to even nod or shake his head or ask his Dad what he meant. Wait why was he on the ground again?

Fred could see his sons' eyes rolling, so he shook him slightly, "Archie? Archie! Kid! Stay with me! Keep your eyes open, okay? I'm right here, your dad's here, you're gonna be okay."

"D-dad?" He choked, gasping in pain afterwards. Fred shushed him quietly, like it was just a nightmare.

Pop ran over to them, "O-oh God! Archie! I- here, put pressure on that wound!"

He handed Fred a cloth which he pressed on the bullet wound as it pumped blood out rhythmetically. Fred watched in horror as Archie hissed in pain, and choked on a sob as he arched his back up. Pop ran back to the phone and began screaming again.

Fred once again soothed his son, "I know, I know. Just stay awake Archie, please! I can't lose you! God, Archie, just... just please don't leave!" He sobbed.

As the Father rocked his only child as he was dying, the door was kicked open and a herd of Police Officers barged through. When they caught sight of the dying teen and no criminal, they lowered their weapons and ran towards them.

An officer Fred barely recognised, spoke into his walkie talkie, yet Fred could not tear away his eyes from Archie. He felt as though if he did, he would never see him again. God, he was losing him.

Suddenly he was being pulled away from his son as two paramedics lay him on a stretcher. He struggled with everything he had, momentarily breaking free and crawling closer to Archie, only to be pulled away again.

Things passed in a blur. A white, quiet, panicked blur. It was only when Fred was sitting on a metal chair in a hospital waiting room where his mind caught up to him. He looked at his hands, both of which were red, but not with blood. When he had seen the blood on his hands, he had ran to the bathroom, thrown up violently, then scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed his hands until-

'Archie's blood isn't there. My baby boys' blood isn't on my hands. Archie's blo-'

He looked down at his shirt and supressed the urge to vomit. He had no other clothes, but he had to do something or he may scream and punch and tear off his shirt and cry and-

He pulled out his phone and called the one other person who had a key to his house, he needed new clothes and he needed them now.

After five rings, they picked up.

"Mr Andrews?"

"Jughead. I need you to do something now."

He heard the boy shuffle, maybe sitting up on bed or something.

"Is there something wrong? Are you okay? Archie?"

"Jughead. Please. Just get me and Archie new outfits to wear and meet me in the hospital waiting room as soon as possible. Can you do that?"

Jughead's breathing hitched. "Wait, if you're in the waiting room, then Arch... Oh God, Fred what happened to Archie?"

Fred knew he had to tell Archies' best friend. He knew Archie would want him there. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "He's been shot."

He heard Jughead pause, before heavy sobs followed through. He knew Jughead would do the job, so he said, "Please. Jug?"

"Yeah. Just, call me if-"

"I will. Thank you." And with that, he ended the call before shrinking in on himself and copying Jughead.

He sobbed and sobbed.

Not until his chest hurt.

Not until Jughead showed up.

Not until Betty and Veronica followed.

Not even when there were no more tears left to cry.

No. Fred Andrews only stopped sobbing when the doctor walked over with an unknown expression on his face - one which made all five present freeze in horror and despair.

He only stopped crying when the words of his sons' fate left the doctors mouth.

Because now, now there were no more tears left to shed.