Betty collapses on her bed after walking home from school alone. The day has been completely and totally exhausting. With Southside High closing, it seems like a constant battle to keep both the North siders and the South siders happy. Cheryl still won't let it go. And yet, other than that almost frivolous drama, everything is perfectly normal. It seems strange to Betty, after weeks of being tormented by the Black Hood, of constantly thinking about ways to catch him and ways to keep her friends safe. She doesn't have to worry about that anymore.

She should feel content, at peace, and she does feel relief to some extent. But after everything she went through, after everything the Black Hood put her through, after that night with Archie, hunting the Black Hood through the night, she doesn't know if she'll ever truly feel at peace in this town again.

She badly wants to forget that night. She wants to forget being held at gunpoint, and forget Archie getting into that coffin in the hopes of sparing her life. And God, does she want to forget what had happened with Archie only forty minutes earlier, in a car outside Cheryl Blossom's house. Somehow that's the part that haunts her the most.

She groans into her pillow as the memory surfaces.

Archie gripping her hands tightly, looking at her with those deep brown eyes, telling her how much he needed her. The pounding of her heart. All rational thought leaving her brain as she kissed him, the warmth that bloomed in her chest when he kissed her back. Desire swelling inside her. And then somehow, she was in his lap, straddling him, and his hands were in her hair, under her shirt, between her legs. They'd only come to their senses when they realised neither of them had a condom.

Betty cringes now when she thinks about what might have happened had Archie had one on him. It would have been such a mistake. It was a mistake to let it get as far as it did. And maybe as she thinks about it now her heartrate speeds up, and a there's a throbbing between her legs as her panties dampen. Maybe she can still feel the ghosts of his fingertips on her skin. But it doesn't mean anything. It can't mean anything.

Especially since Betty's very next unwanted vision is the memory of Archie and Veronica stumbling into the common room only a few days later, mouths all over each other. They're back together. Which is a good thing, of course. It means there is no need for Betty to bring up the other night with Archie like she'd been planning to. They can just forget it ever happened. Or at least, hide it so well that Archie thinks she's forgotten about it. That works just as well.

But seeing Archie with Veronica had made Betty ache. Not for Archie. For Jughead. She misses him. Misses having someone. She can't remember now why they aren't together. She'd spoken to him today at school, and honestly? He seemed like maybe he missed her too.

She calls him. He picks up almost instantly.

"Betty," he says. He sounds happy she called.

"Jug," Betty smiles. "Can we talk? Maybe you could come over. My mom isn't home."

There's a silence at the other end, and Betty wonders if maybe she's made a mistake. But then he says, "Sure, I'll be right over," and Betty hangs up the phone and lies back down on her bed, clutching it to her chest.

She hears his motorbike pull up a few minutes later, and she pulls back the curtain on her front facing window to peer down at him. She watches him take off his helmet and shake his hair loose. He has such nice hair. Betty wishes he'd show it off more. He looks up and meets her eyes, and Betty gives him a little wave before skipping down the stairs, two at a time, to meet him.

He lets himself in and he's waiting just inside the door. Betty stops at the bottom of the stairs. They're supposed to talk. She should probably tell him what happened with Archie. He should probably apologise for breaking up with her in the first place. But right now, Betty knows those conversations are only going to complicate things, and right now she doesn't want complicated. She just wants him.

She surges forward, and Jughead meets her halfway, their lips colliding.

"Jug, I need you," Betty whispers. "I'm ready."

Jughead swallows. "Yeah?"

Betty nods. She'd almost gone that far with Archie. It should be easy with Jughead.

Upstairs, Jughead's lips latch onto hers again as she leads him into her room. Betty smiles against his mouth, spinning him around and onto the bed. She's distracted by movement from the corner of her eye and she turns her head toward the window. She can see Archie standing there in his bedroom, watching her. She can't decipher his expression.

Caught off-guard by his sudden appearance, unwanted images of him flash through her mind. Underneath her, all over her. Her own voice echoes in her head.

"Touch me, Archie."

"Like that?"

"Yes. Like that."

She flushes, remembering how desperate she'd sounded, and how it felt when he put his fingers inside her. She'd gone that far with Jughead already. But with Jughead it had been more careful, more deliberate. She'd thought about it, had time to get nervous and overthink it, and change her mind several times. And then when it was over it didn't seem like such a big deal.

It's the opposite with Archie. She hadn't overthought it at all. She let herself get caught up in the moment, handed herself over to her lust. And now it seems like a huge deal.

"What is it?" Jughead asks, propping himself up on his elbows. "We don't have to do this if you don't want. I just want to be with you, Betty."

Betty whips her head back around to face him, feeling guilty. She should tell him.

"It's Archie," she says in a rush. She swallows.

"Well, close the blinds so we can have some privacy," Jughead grins. Betty gives him a forced smile and heads to the window. She makes eye contact with Archie again. He smiles. Betty's stomach flips over and she hastily closes the blind.

Archie appears on her doorstep the next morning. Betty freezes when she opens the door. Archie grins at her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too."

"Sorry. I'm just surprised to see you."

"I live next door, remember?"

Betty rolls her eyes, and Archie chuckles.

"I thought I'd walk you to school," he shrugs.

Betty nods. "Okay."

Betty grabs her schoolbag and follows Archie outside.

"So," Archie says. "You and Jughead are back together."

"We are," Betty says, not looking at him. "So are you and Veronica."

"She came over on Christmas Day and we worked things out."

"Good. I'm happy for you, Arch."

"Yeah, me too. Happy for you, I mean."

Betty glances at him. His brow is furrowed like he's deep in thought. He doesn't look happy.

They should talk about that night. They should debrief about everything that happened, support each other after what they went through together. No one else was there. No one else could ever understand what it was like for Betty to bury her best friend alive.

But if they talk about that it might lead to talking about the other thing. Which they should probably also talk about. But just thinking about it makes Betty's stomach tighten. Besides, what is there to even say about it? It clearly meant nothing. The whole conversation would just be pointless and uncomfortable.

Archie opens his mouth to speak. Betty cuts him off.

"We should go on a double date! Now that we're both happily in relationships again. I've missed that."

Maybe her voice is a little too high, a little too eager.

"Sounds good, Betty."

They don't see that much of each other after that. Sure, they see each other. But they never go on that double date, and they don't walk to school together. They're both too wrapped up in their significant others, trying to make sure whatever went wrong last time doesn't go wrong this time.

Archie tries out for the wrestling team of all things. Betty wants to make fun of him for it, but she finds she never gets the opportunity. She doesn't even see him through her window, and she assumes it's because he's spending most of his time with Veronica at the Pembrooke.

Then again, he's not the only one who's barely been around. Betty has spent a lot of time with Jughead in FP's trailer, doing her best to be a doting girlfriend. She's wracked by guilt for what she did with Archie, and she wants to tell Jughead, to be honest with him. But something holds her back.

Jughead even provides her with the perfect opportunity, admitting to her that he'd hooked up with Toni during the break up. But if the tiny twinge of jealousy Betty had felt at learning that information told her anything, it's that Jughead would be ten times as hurt if Betty told him she'd hooked up with Archie of all people. Anyone else, anyone, and maybe it would be fine. But Archie? Jughead would never forgive either of them.

So, she buries her guilt and puts on the façade of the perfect girlfriend. Jughead doesn't seem to notice how hard she's trying. She thinks it should be easier, being his girlfriend. But she can't seem to get Archie out of her head, no matter how hard she tries.

If she's not with Jughead, she's at the Blue & Gold office, running the paper entirely on her own. Jughead will write a story or two for her, and Kevin, and a few others, but no one else is really interested in actually running the paper.

It's there that Archie finds her after school, a couple weeks into February, trying to work out some last-minute layout errors. He taps on the doorframe, and Betty looks up.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Betty nods. "Sorry about the mess."

Archie raises an eyebrow at her and she laughs. Like he cares about the mess. He pulls up a stool across the desk from her.

"What brings you here?" Betty asks.

Archie shrugs. "I feel like I've barely seen you lately."

"Too busy with the wrestling team?" Betty teases.

"Ha. Shut up."

"Why exactly are you doing wrestling?"

"Just… trying new things," Archie says. Betty sees right through him. She gives him a disbelieving look. He sighs. "Ronnie thought it might… impress Mr Lodge."

"And how is that working out for you?"

"Great, actually. Well, he likes me now."

"But what about basketball?"

"What about it? I can't do both."

"But you love basketball."

Archie shrugs. "Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for your relationship."

Betty hides her disapproval, ducking her head to look at her layout again. Sure, sometimes you have to make sacrifices in a relationship. But should he really have to give up a sport he loves for one he hates, just to impress some criminal?

"Listen," Archie says, breaking the silence. Betty looks up again. "I've been thinking about you a lot lately."

"You have?" She feels her heart flutter at the words.

"I feel like I owe you an apology."

"An apology? Why?"

"For… for what happened the night of the Black Hood. I let things get too far, and then we didn't even talk about it and I just got back with Veronica without seeing how you felt about it. I'm sorry."

Betty shakes her head, her eyes welling with tears. "Archie," she says. "God, that's nothing. You don't owe me an apology for that. I buried you alive, I—I still think about it. I have nightmares about it sometimes. I'm so, so sorry, Arch, I—"

"Hey, listen to me," Archie says fiercely. His eyes flash. "You don't ever have to be sorry about that. Ever. I got into that grave willingly and I would do it again."

"Even if I couldn't save you?"

Archie's lips curve up, just a little. "Even then. I would die for you, Betty Cooper."

Betty doesn't doubt it. Her heart swells, his love for her almost palpable. She hopes he knows how much she loves him too.

"I would never let you."

"I know."

There eyes meet, and Betty's heart is thundering in her chest. Can he hear it? Can he feel the tension between them, or is it all in her head?

"Betty," Archie says, his voice low. "That night—"

Betty swallows. His eyes rake over her, and she shivers. She knows it's not all in her head. He feels it too. There's something between them, some spark that ignited that night in the car.

Archie opens his mouth to continue.

"Don't say anything," Betty whispers. He can't say it out loud. If he says it out loud it might mean something.

Archie looks disappointed, and Betty yearns to reach out and touch him, comfort him, hold him in her arms. She folds her hands in her lap tightly.

Archie nods shortly and leaves the room. Betty exhales as soon as he's gone. Her hands are shaking, and her heart is pounding.

She groans, putting her head in her hands. It's nothing, she tells herself. You don't have feelings for Archie.

Except, she thinks maybe, actually, she does. And what's worse, is she thinks he might actually have feelings for her too.