Hey loves!

Its been a while! Sorry I haven't updated life is just crazy right now! I also have a few other stories in the works and will try and post another chapter for Collateral soon!

I just joined tumblr as well and will be posting some fics there and other Bughead stuff as well as some of my original writing [not fanfics] so if you want to check that out its wordsonpages1.

Anyway enjoy this angsty oneshot! xx

Jughead swung the door to Pop's open, stepping aside for Betty to enter first. The familiar chime as they crossed the threshold enveloped them both in a sense of comfort and reassurance. Not everything changed. This was still Pop's and they were still them, walking into the neon lit diner as they had countless times before; as children, as friends, as a couple.

It was early and the sun had barely begun to encroach on the town as they made their way to the Chocklit Shoppe. The bright lights, were harsh as always yet encased the place in a warmth unrivalled by any other entity in town. The red leather of the booths shiny and worn, holding thousands of stories and memories.

It was empty bar them, a certain serenity settling with that knowledge.

It had been a long night. After they had been so abruptly interrupted by the Serpent's and Jughead had accepted the jacket- a token of loyalty and a promise of the changes to come- they had spent hours talking, their voices and whispered affirmations of love and will trailing into the early hours of the morning. Betty had aired all her concerns and made him understand she would accept it but it didn't mean she had to like everything that came with the emblem that would now adorn his back. And Jughead had helped her to see that things had already changed and it was about survival now, these people had accepted him and had his back without even knowing him and he needed people in his corner. He made her see that whether they liked it or not he was going to lead a life on the Southside – a fact undisputable- and that he loved her and this could not change that.

Afterwards they had fallen asleep curled up together, their love casting a soft glow across the trailer, warding off the demons that lay beyond just for a little while.

"Good morning kids!" Pop's typical amicable tone greeted. He was behind the counter, finishing putting straws in holders and starting a pot of coffee.

"Morning Pop," Betty returned warmly, a polite smile gracing her face, while Jughead nodded striding over to his usual booth. Betty followed behind him, her fingers laced through his.

"The usual?" the older man called to them from his spot at the counter, a fond smile on his lips as he watched the young couple.

"What else?" Jughead threw back a good natured grin on his face.

He slid to the far side of the booth, and his Hitchcock blonde nestled herself into his side, one leg- clad in his old sweat pants- coming up to rest on the leather while the other rested over his own dark denim covered limb. Her hair was hanging freely by her shoulders and one of his flannels was swallowing her torso. Her face was angled toward his and his breath caught at the sight of her.

She was beautiful always, but in this moment, shrouded by early morning light, free of the shackles of expectation and perfection, dwarfed by his clothing and radiating warmth, she was absolutely stunning. Jughead wasn't stupid. He knew they had a long road ahead of them, that not all of their concerns and fears could be negated in one night. But for now they were okay and she was here and she loved him. It simultaneously made him feel alive and terrified. He had never been good with love, or rather it had never been good to him. But somehow this pastel clad, blonde, smart, determined girl had crept her way into his soul, making home their and prying his trust out of his firm grip to carry in her own. She had unlocked his heart and carved her name deep into the tissue.

"What?" Betty asked, her eyes shining with affection and he realised he had been staring at her. Jughead shook his head, too far gone to feel embarrassed and rather revelling in the effect she had on him.

"Nothing," the raven haired boy said quietly in the minute space between them, eyes alight with mirth and contentment as her face twisted into an expression of mock exasperation.

"Juggie," she whined and he chuckled conceding to tell her.

"You're beautiful Elizabeth Cooper," he stated simply, voice low and honest and Betty felt her heart stutter and her pulse jump at the sincerity she found in his piercing blue eyes. Betty smiled at him, soft and genuine before bringing a hand to his cheek and pecking his lips.

Their eyes remained close for a second as they pulled away, basking in the sensation of each other. "I'll be right back," she whispered, sliding back across the crimson seat and moving toward the ladies room. Jughead sighed as his eyes followed her retreating figure.

He's not sure if he's ever felt more at ease in his entire life as he did right now. Although he wasn't partial to the phrase he couldn't really label this moment anything but perfect. Here in this nostalgic diner that had watched them grow up, offered him sanctity and protection in some of his darkest times, been the facilitator for some of his best memories, he felt at peace. Here in this diner, where he felt at peace with the one person who he felt he truly belonged with, who made him feel like he belonged. Here in this diner, with this girl and no one and nothing else he revelled. He breathed in the lax atmosphere and his lungs thrived in the feeling of fresh, untainted air. The moment was innocent and light and everything he never dreamed he could have.

And then it all changed.

The familiar chime rang out echoing off the walls. And despite the sound being one he had heard billions of times in his life, Jughead felt a shiver run down his spine. Something was off. This was different. Jughead's eyes morphed into a harder shade of blue-steel- as he raised them toward the door. His body froze. Ice crept into his veins and his heart stopped.

Heavy steps echoed off the shining floor, as a disguised, dark figure made his way toward the counter. He had a balaclava over his face but that wasn't the cause of the terror trickling through his veins, freezing his blood and inhibiting his breath. In his left hand the man carried a gun.

Alarm bells were ringing in his head, blaring at him- move. Run. Do something. But he wasn't in his body anymore. It was like he watching the events unfold from somewhere high above, an outsider peering in, but not really there.

"Where is he?" the man growled as his slow, demanding steps corrupted the innocence of the new day.

He stopped just before the counter, menacing and trepidation embodied in one burly figure and rough voice. Jughead's eyes drifted to Pop who stood shaking, on the other side of the counter, face contorting in fear. He dared not breathe.

A beat.

Another.

His lungs burned.

"I said where is he?!" The man yelled, aggression filling his voice and bouncing off the walls of the shoppe reverberating in Jughead's ears and making his soul quake. His eyes drifted to the gun which was being raised in the direction of the old man, the click of it being cocked, drawing a sharp inhale from him.

"I please… I don't… who?.. I" Pop babbled incoherently, cheeks glistening with tears as he shook and cowered.

"Fred Andrews. Where. Is. He?" the man repeated threat laced within every syllable as the gun tipped up.

Suddenly Jughead found himself sliding cautiously to the edge of the booth. He was careful to be silent and still. The mention of Fred had kicked his body back to gear and he found himself coming back into reality, terrifying, life threatening reality.

Who would want to shoot Fred? His brain hummed, while his heart thudded. His movements were calculated as he raised himself up, standing now. The silence in the air was louder than anything he had ever heard and the thrum of blood pounding in his ears created white noise.

"Juggie?"

His eyes snapped to the source of the soft voice that had broken the deafening silence enveloping the diner, tension thick and suffocating. Betty's emotive green eyes filled with fear as she took in the sight before her, limbs freezing to the spot as her body shrunk, further disappearing into his clothes.

The gunman turned, his weapon pointing directly at the love of his life. Jughead's chest constricted unbearably and all air evacuated his lungs. His heart broke as Betty shrunk back further her face going from alarm and fear to full blown panic. His lips were moving before he even registered what he was saying.

"Betty," his voice as hoarse and worn, her gaze locked on his, anxiety ridden eyes pleading with his own. "Betty it's okay, just keep your eyes on me," she swallowed thickly but nodded. The man turning toward him upon the intrusion of Jughead's voice. He felt a sigh of relief leave his lungs as the man's body changed angels once again, the barrel of the gun now staring him down. Betty whimpered in response. Tears pooled in her eyes and he felt the organ in his chest shattering beneath his will to protect her.

"Shutup!" The man yelled , his tone exasperated and impatient. Jughead didn't pay any mind though, his only thought and concern the girl glued to the spot far too many metres away.

"Betts just keep your eyes on me. Everything's gonna be fine." She did what he said, but he could see the tremble in her lips, the stains on her cheeks and the clenched hands by her sides. Hands he longed to grip in his own right now.

Jughead's heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, he felt sick to his stomach and wasn't entirely convinced he wouldn't pass out right there. But somehow he managed to paint a faint smile on his face and keep his gaze locked to hers, ignoring the weapon poised at his chest, despite it taking up all the space in the room.

"I SAID SHUTUP!"

And then it was searing pain.

The room went red and the world fell to black. Jughead stumbled backward, his eyes going wide as his body exacerbated into flames. Somewhere in a far corner of his mind he registered heavy footsteps fleeing. He recollected a flash of black boots against blood stained tiles. But mostly it was just pain-blinding.

Betty's eyes widened as the trigger was pulled, the sound of the shot searing her mind and engraining itself into her haunted memories. She felt the impact hit her square in the chest. Only she wasn't bleeding. She crumbled to her knees, a scream tearing itself from her throat, broken and desperate as Jughead fell back, his eyes too became wide, his face turning pale as his shirt stained red and he fell to the ground. The man fled.

Betty felt tears leak down her face, as distressed sobs and cries ripped their way through her being. She scrambled forward, feeling numb and in excruciating pain all at once.

"Jughead!" She gasped, falling beside his body, her horror stricken eyes darting around the scene. Blood. So much blood. The ground around him was red, his shirt was red, her hands, were red from where they were pressing down on the gaping wound in his abdomen.

"No!" She shook her head furiously as her vision blurred and her eyes stung. Her hands trembled and her blood burned her veins.

"No, no, no, no..NO!" she cried the mantra, over his limp body.

His eyes stared into hers scared and empty. Her sobs wracked her body and her tears stained his face while his blood stained her fingers.

"Juggie please!" her voice sounded like it was underwater and the hysteria in it was unmistakable. The sounds of sirens blaring echoed distantly and she vaguely registered Pop must have called the ambulance.

Jughead's eyes met hers as she brushed his hair away from his forehead which was now damp with sweat.

"Betts-" he wheezed, barely making it through the syllable, his breath escaping him and his face contorting in blinding pain as he spoke.

"Shh," she hushed, salty tears mingling with the words as she stroked his face.

"Just stay with me Jug," she pressed her forehead to his, and willed his being to live. She felt so hopeless and lost and broken and all she could do was watch him die until the paramedics showed up.

"Just keep looking at me," she breathed, unable to get enough air in her lungs. His eyes began to slide shut and cold panic filled her being ten times over.

"No! Jug! JUGGIE!" her red fingers pried his eyes open and he complied, lifting the heavy lids as best he could while she smeared his own blood over his cheeks while she cradled them. His breathes were almost non-existent now and Betty felt the chilling hand of the Grim reaper so close by. She prayed with all her strength as the sobs continued to wrack her frame and her tears were steadily falling on him. She felt incomplete. Like she was being ripped in two or a blade was driving through her chest.

"Don't you dare leave me Forsythe Jones," his lip twitched faintly at the name, but she dare not hope, only praying as she tried not to notice the ghostly white pigment his skin had taken on or the blue shade that now coloured those lips.

"Not now. Not after you made me fall in love with you."