something small & different and slightly a/u story-line wise

partially inspired by betty cooper

mentions of self harm, emotional abuse

written from betty's pov

PERFECT.

The thing my parents always wanted me to be, always want me to be but I'm not but that's what everyone sees me as.

The perfect girl next door.

Well all except one Forsythe Pendleton Jones III aka Jughead or Juggie to a select few (me included). He's been there for me my whole life, I just never really appreciated it until recently.

Until Archie had turned me down.

Until Jason's body had been discovered

Until he opened up to me

Until he let me open up to him

Until he told me I wasn't alone.

We all have that one friend that we can be ourselves around. That love us no matter what. That stand by us no matter what we say or do.

Jughead is that person for me.

I was 14 when I did it for the first time. Mom was shouting at me for getting a C- on a Biology test and dad was out of town. I was writing out test notes when my pen ran out of ink so I had started drawing on my upper thigh. I pressed deeper and deeper until blood appeared but it felt good. Like some sort of pressure had been taken off me.

I stopped a couple of weeks later when cheerleader try-outs came about. Wearing a short skirt meant people would see and that couldn't happen, concealer became by best friend in those months after.

Mom didn't like me becoming a River Vixen; the uniforms were too short, the routines were too sexy, there was attention from boys that I shouldn't be having at my age.

My daily strawberry milkshake and fries order from Pop's Diner had now changed to a diet soda and side salad that I had with the other Vixens.

"Had to watch my weight" was what Cheryl told me that morning.

What I didn't know was Jughead was there, that he had witnessed what Cheryl had told me and that he had managed to sneak into my room whilst my parents were out to leave a take-out cup and paper bag from said diner on my desk.

When Polly was "sent away" Jughead text me to see if I was okay. No one else because they all thought I was but what they didn't know was that I was far from it.

It started when I was checking the length of my nails, my hands curled up into a light fist and I pressed my nails into my palms. Kept them there for longer than I thought possible.

Letting go, I ran my fingers over the crescent shaped marks left. The next day when I found out my supposed best friend had made out with the guy I thought I loved, the marks got deeper until I felt the stickiness of blood.

When Jason's body was found, Polly was the natural suspect. She had gone missing the week before he was found and no one knew where she had gone to, not even her own sister.

Restarting the Blue and Gold was the escape the blond needed and with Jughead there, she felt a sense of calm she hadn't felt before. I had just pinned up a new paper to our murder board when he noticed a trace of blood. Ever the crime solver, he picked the paper back up and saw that the placing of the blood didn't match one of a paper cut but from the centre of a hand. He put the paper back down on the desk I was leaning on and picked my hands up from my side and unfolded them looking at the palms.

I thought he would shout at me, tell me off, say something but instead he wrapped his arms around me. I leaned into him and cried. Pulling away, Jughead removed his denim jacket and showed me his arm. Scars.

I looked up and him as he said "you're never alone Bets". He took my hands in his and kissed the scars, all eight crescent marks, he kissed my forehead then I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him closer to press my lips to his.

After that we become each other's rock. People had wondered how we ended up together, what caused the blond, preppy cheerleader to date the boy from the wrong side of the tracks but no one ever found out.

Instead of hurting ourselves, we turned to each other.

Our friends and families became accepting

We bring out the best in each other

Our love grew greater and deeper.

Eventually our family did too.

The story of how we found each other may not be the happiest, but how we turned out was the happiest ending we could wish for.