"STAY AWAY FROM HER!"
Jughead screamed, as he watched the Serpents advance on his girl from all sides. Frozen to the spot, he looked on as she became encircled by the gang. She was clenching her fists, her fingernails etching into her palms bloody scars. "You have something of ours, little girl." Said F.P advancing on her till his face was mere inches from hers. "It's not yours anymore." Said Betty defiantly. He raised his hand and struck her across the face. Helpless, Jughead struggled against whatever invisible bonds were holding him in place. He had to get to her. He needed to protect her. He continued to struggle as he saw his father pull a gun from his pocket. He watched as Betty's bloodied and bruised face looked up to where he was. It was a face full of panic, "HELP ME JUGHEAD! PLEASE!" She was sobbing, as F.P pointed the barrel of the gun right between her eyes. He heard her scream, watched her fall. Dead before she hit the ground.
He screamed.
"BETTY!" Jughead woke up with a start, his hand extended in front of him into the darkness. He gasped for breath, looking around, taking in where he was. His eyes fell on Betty, sleeping peacefully beside him, her mouth slightly open and her eyes flickering as she slept. Jughead hadn't realized he had been holding his breath, until he breathed a sigh of relief. He fell back on the jumbled up mess of pillows and blankets they had made for a bed, (Betty had refused to let him sleep on the floor, he had insisted she take the bed. Thus they both end up on the floor.) He must have woken her ever so slightly, because she moved a little in her sleep and reached her arms around his chest. He smiled at her, loving her more and more by the second.
And he didn't know how many more they had left.