Summary: Archie and Jughead get into a fight, and their friendship is tested.
I don't own Riverdale or any of its characters.
"Archie, if something is going on, just tell me. We can-" Jughead was trying, he really was. But, damn, if Archie was going to be this difficult, maybe he should just leave him alone. Maybe his friend just needed some time.
Archie seemed to agree, not liking Jughead's intervention. So, in anger, he let his frustrations get the better of him. "We can do what, Jug? All you do is mope around, condemning every relationship in your life to disintegrate, and you want to try and give me advice? Don't kid yourself, man, from where I'm standing, you can't even help yourself."
Archie thought he didn't like Jughead's moping face, but really, the face he was seeing now definitely beat it. Jughead looked blank, as if his emotions, his being, had suddenly evaporated, leaving just the body alone and void of anything but the bones and muscles beneath his skin. All of Archie's anger and cold-hearted rage left him, as he took a hesitant step towards his friend. "Jug?" When he didn't get a response, Archie's heart sank. "Jughead? Bud? Hey, c'mon answer me." Still nothing.
Now, Archie was freaking out, wondering if he should ask his dad to come up to his room or call an ambulance, or do something, because the pale tint to Jug's face and the catatonic look in his eyes worried the hell out of him. He grabbed hold of Jughead's scrawny shoulders and shook him, and was just about to finally raise his voice so his dad could hear him, when some light seemed to come back to Jughead's face.
"You…" He whispered.
Archie's grip tightened on Jughead's shoulders. "Oh, thank God. Jug, you okay, man?" Archie tried to hug him, to make sure he was okay, but Jughead wrenched himself free with strength Archie didn't know Jughead had.
"You have no right!" Jughead finally yelled. He looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes were guarded and hurt and he was inching towards Archie's bedroom door like he was about to bolt. His hands were in fists and his whole body was shaking, and Archie only then seemed to notice how frail and broken his friend looked. Was this the true Jughead? The crazy thought came from nowhere, but the question hit Archie like a cart of bricks. Did Archie really know anything about Jughead besides what his friend told him? Of course, Archie was always concerned for Jughead, he knew he got pushed around and teased a lot because he looked so much like an outsider; the name itself seemed to brand into the air around him, always making him a target. Archie also knew that Jughead was always having problems at home, mostly because his parents had no idea how to relate to him, and vice versa. Jughead really didn't know how to relate to anyone, except Archie, and even then they had their moments. Archie wanted to kick himself for not thinking about these things sooner. He must feel so alone, Archie thought, and all of a sudden, Archie felt himself lurch forward to Jughead, every ounce of his being wanting only to see if Jughead was okay. And by the way Jughead scampered back like a wounded animal, Archie knew the answer would not be a simple one.
Jughead tried to get to the door and run down the stairs, but Archie tackled him, sending them both to crash into Archie's bedroom door. "Let go of me!" Jughead shouted, and Archie knew by now his dad must've heard them, and would soon be up here. But, before Jughead could break free of the ginger and make his escape, Archie pulled his friend towards him and wrapped his arms tightly around the shaking boy Archie thought he knew everything about.
"I'm sorry, Jug. So, so sorry. I… I just always take your friendship for granted; I never stop to think about how things could affect you. I'm really sorry." Jughead felt like he was frozen in shock, trapped under Archie's arms without any means of escape. The truth is, Jughead had been expecting this to happen for a while. For the conflict between the two to explode to the point beyond no return, and although Archie was currently hugging him and apologizing profusely into his hair, Jughead felt too alone and too betrayed to forgive. This always seemed to happen to him: whether it being his fault or the other person's, everyone always seemed to walk away. He had never been on good terms with his parents, and even now it was horrible. They were even threatening to have him be kicked out. Not that he told Archie, or anyone really. He wasn't really keen on emotions, mostly because he didn't know how to deal with them.
Archie was Jughead's lifeline to the world, the one connection that kept him from being just another face in the crowd, or just a distant memory that one sometimes tries to remember, but never can. Without Archie, Jughead would only be the part of himself that he disliked: the loner- the guy who hangs in the corner, aware of other people, but feeling so far away from them, it hurt. And although Archie obviously felt bad for hurting him, Jughead still couldn't stop the negative thoughts that conflicted him every day. Archie had nothing to lose in this relationship, in fact it would actually be better for Archie's status as varsity jock if he wasn't friends with Jughead, while Jughead… Jughead had everything to lose. Their talks were Jughead's salvation in a way, his assurance that he wasn't too insane or too conflicted to be accepted. And although Jughead knew this, knew he needed Archie more than he needed anything, Jughead still tried to fight Archie's grip. Jughead knew the only thing waiting for him back at home was an empty house that even when filled, felt desolate to him, but the pain that Archie's hug was giving him was way worse than the feeling of loneliness that always shadowed him. It felt to Jughead like Archie was pitying him, and that thought alone made it impossible to be near him. Of course, Jughead only wanted to be friends with Archie again, but the raw emotion of being what felt like a sidekick to a world he knew nothing about, terrified him. If Jughead was just always going to be shoved into a corner and only dusted off when Archie really needed him, then what was the point? Jughead thought he must be better off alone.
"Jughead, c'mon, stop that." Jughead was ripped from his thoughts by those four gentle words, and he hesitantly looked up at Archie, unsure of what he might find. When they did lock eyes, Jughead was only amazed to see the eyes Jughead never thought he'd see again: the caring, brotherly look Archie used to get when Jughead was upset. Jughead hadn't seen it in such a long time, that he nearly broke when he saw it so transparently in his friend's eyes.
"Stop what?" Jughead couldn't keep the deflective, guarded tone out of his voice, but he knew no amount of willpower could keep it out. Jughead was now very, very vulnerable, a situation he never liked to be in.
"Being so negative." Archie replied, still so kindly. "Jug, I'm always going to be here for you. Above all else, you've got to remember that."
"But, you just said-" Jughead didn't know why he didn't want to accept it, maybe he was just horribly masochistic, or maybe he just needed to see if Archie would go to the same lengths and emotional turmoil to right a wrong that Jughead would do for Archie. Either way, he felt the need to fight Archie's heartfelt apology to the point where things could go back to the way the fight they were having before.
"Look, Juggie, I say a lot of bullshit when I'm angry. You know that. I can't control my temper, but hey, it's just something I need to work on. I upset you, and I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. Just," He sighed, and his eyes turned more serious. "Can we, or can we not be, friends again?"
They were still technically hugging, but neither of them cared when they noticed Fred Andrews, Archie's father, had arrived concerned in Archie's room moments ago, or that Jughead took a long time to answer. They both knew that when the question was asked, the answer was already in Jughead's eyes, and that they still had a long relationship ahead of them.
Jughead did eventually say "yes," only because Archie's dad prompted him for an answer, which in response, Archie just laughed, and finally let go of Jughead. Jughead then smiled, and chuckled too, which Archie couldn't help feeling overstuffed with happiness at seeing. It was so rare to see Jughead smile, that Archie couldn't help but grab him and ruffle up his hair and revel in the joy at knowing he had one of the best friends a guy could ask for, back, and if Archie could help it, Jughead wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.
So, Archie let go of the now bemused Jughead, who grabbed his knocked off beanie from the ground and gave Archie a perplexed look as he straightened the crowned hat on his head. Archie just laughed, and once Jughead had fixed himself to his satisfaction, Archie hooked his arm around Jughead's shoulders and announced, "See ya later, dad. Me and Juggie are going to Pop's." And they walked past Archie's dad, the two appearing to the older man as the two young boys who would race each other to Jughead's treehouse, and would shoot marbles down the driveway in front of Archie's house. Sure, now they were grown, and did have a world of more difficult problems than a sixth grader would, but at least the three could take comfort in the fact that for that night, at least, nothing could break the two of them. They were so protected by their bond that night, that even if the world fell down around them, they wouldn't flinch in their love for each other. They were once again friends, and God be damned if something was going to change that so soon.
