Betty still remembered that night as one of the most horrific nights she had to ever endure. It was up there in the top three. One: when the black hood was chasing her at prom and the other when she found out her mother had ascended. Although, that night and the night she was currently reflecting on were the same night. She could still hear the sound of the gunshot; still see her father's lifeless body on the ground. She had screamed. Oh, how she had screamed. She didn't know it was possible to feel anguish over a serial killer but here she was, wishing her father had had a different outcome; had had led a different life.

She stared at the concrete before, the tombstone the only reminder of her dad. She initially didn't have a problem with the town not wanting him in their graveyard, (or, so she claimed), but Jughead had seen right through her and had fought tooth and nail to get him at least a tombstone. They didn't have a funeral for him because Betty hadn't wanted one but every so often, especially when she couldn't sleep, such as now, she'd find herself sitting in front of his grave, wondering and wishing how things could have been different.

Just then, she heard the soft footsteps of someone coming up behind her and would have been alarmed if it wasn't for the fact that she knew those footsteps like she knew the back of her hand.

"Figured I'd find you here, Betts," Jughead murmured, voice soft as he sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She touched his hand, reveling in the warmth it provided, before sighing.

"Couldn't sleep," she said by explanation.

"That's the third night in a row I've found you here at three in the morning. You've got to sleep, love," he said, kissing her temple.

She shrugged a shoulder but didn't say anything, too busy staring at the tombstone and getting lost in her thoughts. And guilt. So much guilt. If she had just been a better daughter, had tried harder, had been more perfect…maybe her father wouldn't have turned out this way and met the end that he did.

"It's not your fault, baby," Jughead whispered, swiping a thumb against her cheek and for the first time, she realized the tears she had been fighting since witnessing her father's death had finally broken free. Inhaling shakily, she nodded her head but didn't say anything, throat constricting too tightly to breathe properly. "It's not."

In retrospect, she suspected she knew that. In reality, she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to believe that or free herself of the all-encompassing guilt wrapped around her like a noose.

"It's just," she began, voice wavering. "I feel like I didn't do a good enough job at being his daughter. If I had, 0maybe he wouldn't have turned out this way."

"Or, maybe he would've, despite your best intentions. Your father was a very sick man," Jughead murmured, tracing a soothing thumb against her knuckles. "You can't fix everyone, baby, no matter how hard you try."

She swallowed, feeling her heart beating uncomfortably. Interlocking their fingers, Jughead tilted her face towards him and pressed their foreheads together.

"You can't carry the sins of your father or the weight of the world on your shoulders alone. Let me help. Don't shut me out, Betty Cooper. Don't you fucking dare," he whispered, and she waited a beat, gathering her thoughts, before nodding her head.

"I won't," she whispered.

Eyes searching hers', Betty knew he was looking for a sign of hesitation or a hint that she wasn't being completely truthful. Keeping her face as open as she could, she watched as he eventually nodded, smiling in satisfaction.

"Thank you," he murmured, before cupping her cheek in his hand and kissing her. Every time they kissed, Betty swore it took her to Nirvana, no matter how she was feeling. When it was her turn to do the last act, Jughead had kissed her fiercely and she returned it with as much passion as she could muster. Perhaps she had sensed that something life changing was about to occur and needed the reassurance that he was still there, with her.

They both fell silent then, and Betty reflected on the pain she had felt over the past year. Her mother joining the farm, only to be taken from her, only to find out that she was an informant for the FBI; then there was her dad. Spending time with him while he was in prison had made her think that maybe there was hope for him and a chance for him to right his wrongs. But, he didn't and he'd never get the chance to do so again. Face twisting against the pain that she felt inside, Betty bit down on her lip to keep the sobs inside. Of course, her boyfriend simply knew what she needed and pulled her into his chest.

"It's okay to cry, sweetheart. I've got you," he whispered, and that was all it took for the dam to break. Soon, her body was heaving with great, shuddering sobs.

"I know I'm not supposed to but I miss him. Miss the man he was. The one who taught me how to build and take apart engines. The one who made pancakes on the weekends my mom was out of town for a journalism retreat," she cried.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay," Jughead murmured, carding his fingers through her hair. She didn't know how long they sat there, with her getting his shirt wet with her tears, but eventually, her sobs turned into soft cries that faded off into nothing. Betty eventually placed a kiss to his chest, silently thanking him for being there. He didn't say anything in return, just tightened his hold on her and she somehow knew in that moment she would be alright. And that was the strength that would keep her moving forward.

Fin.