Welcome Back.

a Bughead Oneshot


When Jughead first said goodbye to her, Betty just as soon thought that she would disappear - dissolve into nothing. That without his love, Betty Cooper ceased to exist. And even as she thought this, in the midst of sobs and tears, she had rolled her eyes and silently scolded herself for feeding into such teenage melodrama.

But to any sixteen-year-old, the loss of a first love could be more tragic than anything Shakespeare could come up with - after all… was it not Jughead who climbed through her window and called her Juliet?

She'd been fine - distracted. She threw herself into solving the mystery of the Black Hood just so she didn't have to bother with all those exposed nerves, all those feelings bubbling just under her surface. She'd been strong. She'd even pretended to be fine when she saw him because falling apart wasn't an option, no. She was a survivor, and she was not going to break.

And then, he was just back. And it was almost as though he'd never left. He stood there in the doorway of the Blue and Gold, looking like he belonged. Of course he belonged.

" Jug, " she choked. It was short and startled, like she forgot how to breathe, forgot how to speak. She blinked a few times, maybe expecting him to just disappear. She resisted the urge inside to pinch herself, just to prove she was awake and this was real.

This was real.

"Hi," he smiled softly. He looked at her like there was still love in his eyes and she prayed that she wasn't just imagining it.

"Umm… what are you doing here?" She bowed her head and tucked some lose, blonde hair behind her ear, nervously. She felt her body shrink into itself under his eyes as she wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

"I came to ask for my old job back," he admitted, but his mouth remained open like an unfinished sentence. She could tell he was trying to be light, but everything they'd left unsaid before was still looming heavily over them. "I mean… I did help bring this thing back to life, didn't I?"

Her lips curved despite the sadness in her heart just being in the same room as him but not being able to reach out and touch him - kiss him. She'd been happy when she'd heard he'd be returning to Riverdale High but now… now she wondered if she would ever be able to survive being in the same room as him everyday again.

"You did," she breathed. She could feel herself staring at him longingly, so she looked away. "But I don't know… do you think it's a good idea, Jug? With… us?"

He walked further into the room with his head held high. There was a swagger to his walk he'd never had before, a confidence she'd never really seen in him.

"I can handle it if you can," was his simple response. Betty folded her lips and took in a deep breath, trying not to let the tears form in her eyes. Did it really bother him so little?

"No," she smiled tightly. "I'm great."

"You sure?" he wondered, bowing his head down to get a good look at her. His eyes studied her face and she hated how close he was to her now.

"I'm fine," she finally ended up snapping. Although he eyed her skeptically, he seemed appeased by her curt reply.

"Great!" He exclaimed, digging into his messenger bag at his side. "Because I have my first article." Once again, Betty's stomach sank. Clearly, Jughead was really fine.

And the truth was… she wasn't.

"Oh," she managed to utter. "Great." She rounded to the other side of the desk just to get some safe distance between them. He pulled out some papers and smacked them down on the table in front of her. Betty could only stare down at the writing with blurry vision, dangerously close to crying.

"Take a look," Jughead told her, but Betty was too choked up to reply coherently.

"I um… maybe later-" she stammered, her breath short.

"It's not that long," he assured her, as if that were the problem. He reached down and scooted the papers closer to her. "I wrote it on the typewriter you got me."

"Jug, you should go-"

"Betty." Something had shifted, and she reluctantly looked up at him. His eyes were glossy now too, and there was an urgency in his tone. His voice cracked as he pleadingly said, "read it."

Betty reached down with shaking hands to fetch his papers. She quickly wiped her eyes, but it was a useless gesture - he'd already seen the tears. His words came into view, the bold title at the top of the page reading, "LOCAL OUTCAST MAKES TERRIBLE DECISION, BREAKS HIS OWN HEART."

Betty sucked in a quick breath before her eyes met his again. She tried to subdue a smile, but the sobs that were deep in her chest were now transforming into giggles, and she felt delirious.

"What is this?" she muttered, and Jughead came around the table to be closer to her again.

"Read it out loud," he instructed her, his voice low and Betty writhed a bit at the feeling of his breath circling her ear.

"Local outcast makes terrible decision, breaks his own heart," she read. She glanced up at him and softly smiled before reading on. "Local moron and public menace Jughead Jones made a terrible decision by ending his relationship with the beautiful, amazing Elizabeth Cooper recently. After a rough few weeks, Jughead and Betty's relationship reached a boiling point the night of his father's retirement party. Spurred on by threats of danger to his beloved from a Serpent witch, and pushed over the edge by a sultry dance number, Jughead lost his cool and acted like a total douchebag, once again pushing away the only good thing in his life." Betty snorted, looking up at him and shaking her head. "That's quite a run-on sentence..."

"There's more," He insisted, and Betty's gaze fell back down to the page. She sighed and kept reading.

"Betty and Jughead had been through their share of turmoil - the duo solved the grisly murder of Jason Blossom just weeks ago and what had started as a murder investigation, soon turned into the two of them investigating each other-" Betty paused to gasp, smacking Jughead on the arm. "Nice," she teased, sarcastically.

"I thought it was a good line," he beamed, but then nudged the paper back at her.

"The two quickly fell in love, despite everything in the universe trying to tear them apart: black hooded madmen, social classism, even geography. But realizing his mistake, Jughead Jones has become confident that there's nothing that they can't get through together-"

"So he asks-" Jughead's voice fell over hers, the ending of his mock article memorized as he took the papers from Betty's hands. Betty turned to face him, but then he pulled her even closer, their bodies softly colliding. His hands snaked up to find their rightful home on the sides of her face as he recited the final line, "-That Betty gives him another chance for them to do things right."

Betty blinked away her tears, trying to find the right words. But Jughead said them first: "I love you, Betty. And I'm so sorry."

"Jug, I love you, too."

Without seeking permission, Jughead's lips found hers and he caught her soft, delighted murmur in his mouth as she melted into him. Her hands reached up to grip him even closer, pulling him to her hungrily. She pushed forward and they nearly toppled back onto the writing desk, but Jughead caught the end of the table with his hand, first. His fingers slinked into her hair and Betty never wanted to stop kissing him.

It was suddenly so glaringly clear what they'd been missing.

They broke their kiss slowly, reluctant to part.

"So… what do you think?" Jughead asked, short of breath. "Is it front page material or-?" Betty just laughed and wrapped her arms around him tightly, squeezing him. "I missed you, Betty."

"I missed you so much," she whimpered back to him into his chest, choking back a sob as he wrapped her up in his arms and hugged onto her. She tilted her head up to look at him through her still-teary eyes, "we're going to do this right this time okay?"

"Deal."