Chapter 3
Falling on Deaf Ears
"Archie, when something like this happens you tell me. Preferably before you go running off – to God knows where – in the middle of the night."
"I know. I know that … I'm sorry."
A sigh shuddered from Archie's phone, painting the exasperated face of Fred Andrews across Archie's flat-lining mind.
His elbows strained against the hard surface of the table, while the weight of his forehead pushed against the rough skin of his palm, creating the closest sense of clarity he could muster. The other hand gripped tightly around his cellphone as he tried to follow the distressing tone of his father.
It was hard to focus. Harder to think.
A low buzz was vibrating across his skin. A persistent itch that reminded him of a mosquito bite. The feeling was faint and dismissible, maybe a small satisfaction would be felt from dragging nails across the abrasion. Soon, without realization, the sensation – the remaining memory of something invading the flesh – would become a repetitive and distracting pulse. The mind would build the act of scratching as a forbidden sin that rewarded the ultimate pleasure of clawing against a bump for blood to be drawn.
As the ashes of panic flickered around the charred remains of his mind, Archie found himself lusting after that sin.
If his hands were empty he may have ripped himself apart. Found the core of his trembling, dug his fingers into it, torn a gaping hole, and stopped the aftershocks that continued to shudder through him, blurring his mind and melting his thoughts together.
Perhaps he should've been thankful that the earthquake he had just experienced hadn't completely crippled him.
When Betty had ripped the vibrating phone from his back pocket, during his hysterical collapse minutes before, he could do nothing but wither into a mass of limbs over the counter as she provided the missing person's account to his dad. The hot blanket of fear had wrapped around him, numbing his senses and choking his thoughts, that even when Pop had carried Archie into a booth and coaxed him back to breathing he could only respond by flopping around like a corpse.
"Just breathe son," Pop's had soothed, gripping a steady hand to his shoulder. Archie wasn't sure if he had successfully returned a nod to those words as his sight phased through the white canvas of the man's apron; without the rough weighted palms holding him upright he may have followed the trail of his eyes to nothing. "You won't be of use to anyone when you're two seconds away from keeling over."
In his own personal chaos, Pop cleared the diner. Apparently removing its status of 24 hours for Archie to ride out his panic attack without an audience and to speak with Betty. Their voices had been floating nearby since she had decided to trust that Archie was coherent enough to hold a phone and work his jaw.
The sounds were soft – Betty's mumbling, Pop's hearty chords, his dad's commands, the buzzing of a flickering light nearby – they were just enough to keep him steady and pull him back from the brink.
"Archie?" His dad questioned. Archie pressed the phone flat against his ear.
"Yeah. Sorry, I'm here." He ran the hand at the edge of his brows up to hold the wisps of red hairs back against his scalp. "I'm just... I didn't hear you, sorry."
Archie forced himself to filter everything away, including the conversation nearby. Betty and Pop's voices, despite their reassuring presence, were invading his hearing. He was trying to give his dad as much attention as he could muster, but hushed words and quick glances his way were enough to keep pulling him from the conversation at hand.
Over the phone there was a faint slap of a car door and Archie angled himself to face the blinds over the window, away from the two speakers by the front register.
"I said that I need you and Betty to stay where you are," His dad repeated. "I know you're worried about Jughead, but if something did happen I cannot have you following the trail, you got that?"
Another slap outside the phone startled him and he peered to the side to see Betty's hand meeting the flat surface of the countertop with an urgency from her unheard words.
"This is not up for discussion Archie."
Archie closed his eyes and released a deep pocket of air from his nose. "I know dad. We just needed to check Pop's to be sure." His fingers became a stark white as his grip curled around the edges of his phone. "But Betty and I... we can't just go home."
A mutter of "no's" seemed to be coming from his phone.
"And you can't be running through town in a snow storm at four in the morning either. You and Betty are waiting until I get there and then we'll handle this the right way."
A sudden blister of irritation was forming in his gut.
"And the right way is sitting around and wasting more time?" He snapped. "Dad I told you it's been hours since Jughead messaged me, and Betty even said he never mentioned anything about going somewhere besides back to the house – we can't just wait around for Sheriff Keller to decide if this is an emergency or not, we already know it is!"
The anger was burning away the haze that had been fogging his senses.
He needed his dad to get it. Jughead was in trouble whether anyone believed it or not, and there was no one but Betty and him to lead the chase.
They were Jughead's friends, and if there was even a semblance of a job description to that title then it probably required Archie to do everything in his power to look for his friend when he was missing in a town loitering with murderers. Waiting in a cushioned safety net for his dad to drive across town or for Sheriff Keller to slowly don his hat with muttered annoyance that the Jones boy had caused another commotion was exactly what he shouldn't be doing. Having a panic attack and grasping for false security was not an option either, he needed to pull himself together for Jughead. Hell, for Betty, who been drowning under Archie's useless state all night.
He was supposed to be their friend not some sorry-sack that dragged them into his own pathetic oblivion.
There was a pause across the phone and Archie could hear the familiar moaning start of a truck's engine. "Archie, I'm not saying this isn't serious, we just need to do what keeps everyone safe."
"You mean keep me safe. Not Jughead," He hissed.
That must have struck a nerve and Archie could hear the sharp inhale of breath before the impeding scold of...
"Arch!"
The shout jostled the phone from his fingers and onto the table. He hadn't expected his name to blare into his ear, or for it to sound from around the phone.
Betty stood before him hands pressed over the table with her entire weight leaning towards him.
"Sorry!" She scrambled for his phone which had landed by her thumb before handing it back to him. "Can I talk to you for a second, Pop just-"she swallowed whipping her ponytail to glance at the heavyset man walking their way.
"We might have an idea of where Jughead went."
Archie froze in his movement to reposition his phone.
"What?!"
A nervous smile painted his friend's face as she grabbed for his sleeve, seemingly holding herself back from bursting, before he was ready to hear the news.
"Wait- hold on… let me just." He began shifting from the center of the seat to the diner floor, but was careful to keep the cell phone to his ear. "Dad? Dad, you there?"
A slight murmur of a voice bled through the phone.
"Dad?!"
The quick edge of his father's voice shot through the speaker. "Yes, Keller. Jughead Jones. But the kid is-"
"Archie!" Betty pressed, her nails also, unintentionally, pressing into his arm.
Unintentionally, but still painfully.
"Ow! Betty-"He squirmed from her grip, turning to offer her frustration a glance of reassurance that he was seconds away from ending the call.
Archie nearly toppled over in his momentum when he was met with a face of pale shock rather than annoyance. And it was directed at her hand, not him.
Betty was never fragile with him, and she had barely touched him. She didn't need to get worked up about gripping his arm too hard.
He wanted to ease her apparent fear that she had somehow hurt him when a shout resounded by his ear.
"Archie! You still there?!"
Archie shuddered in humorous relief.
Finally.
"Yeah! Dad, listen. We might know where Jughead went!" His eyes shot to Betty's in a search for absolute certainty. Her eyes stuttered away from her hands clasped together below her belt, to offer a few resolute nods.
"You-"Fred cut off, directing his voice away from Archie. "He says they may know where he went, hold on…"
And the back to him. "Did Jug reach you?"
"No, we…wait, I still gotta ask Betty." He replied pulling the phone slightly away. "Betty, my Dad's asking- what did you find out," Archie questioned.
The previous emotion that had painted Betty's face was nowhere to be seen as the familiar expression of an unrelenting Betty Cooper fire returned. She gave another glance towards Pop before giving Archie her full attention.
"Apparently, after I left, Jughead came back inside after his first order," she recounted. "Pop said he walked outside before coming back to make another order," Betty broke off and turned to the mentioned diner owner as he came forward.
The man settled a feeling of confidence as he met Archie's eyes. "Jones came in for another bag. With the bit of waiting he did for the mess of his first order to be righted out and then again for the second to be made, I believe he left about…" he stole a glance to the clock on the wall, "twelve."
Archie lowered his brows at the limited shift in information. Jughead had apparently killed more time than expected at the diner, but he had still been silent for hours.
And time was still ticking.
Archie turned to Betty with confusion. "Okay, but how does that-"
"The order!" Betty exclaimed, "I thought it was for your dad at first, since Jug was already getting himself and you something, but then Pop said..." Again her bundle of hair twirled from his vision as her neck twisted towards the man.
"F.P. Jones." Pop offered and Archie nearly felt nerve pain as he too whipped his head at the familiar name. "Medium rare, pepper jack cheese, I didn't think of it 'till you kids came in but – I've been working here long enough to know – that's F.P. Jones's usual."
Archie swept his eyes between the familiar staple of the town and the feminine blonde staple of his life. Betty was looking at him with an expectation for him to connect the dots.
"So Jug…"
"Got a third order for F.P. Yes." Her eyes crinkled. "Or, probably… but mostly yes," Betty finished. "There's at least a good chance he stopped at his dad's trailer," she shuffled a hand into her pocket pulling out her own phone. "I'm gonna try to call Mr. Jones again."
Maybe he was wired wrong. There should have been a certain burst of adrenaline at the prospect of a new and hopeful clue.
Betty's fingers dialed an unseen number, before peering back to him. "Pop said he'll drive us to Sunnyside to check."
Maybe he was the only one stuck in this numbing pit where the whole thing was just too good to be true.
The jangle of car keys pulled his thoughts to Pop's hand. "Can't help but think… Jughead's not one to waste a meal, I still say he'd head back to your place Andrews," Pop mentioned with a guilty tilt of a frown, brought on from raining doubt onto the possibility of an optimistic parade.
"Not to mention," Betty continued. "Jug would have told you if he was staying at his dad's, Archie."
Or, maybe he wasn't the only one.
Maybe, optimism wasn't the default for Riverdale anymore.
Betty pointed to the phone that now rested by his hip while moving the sound of a dial tone beside her head. "You should tell your dad, Arch. That we're going." She took his wrist in a slightly less tightening grip and stepped towards the entrance. "Pop needs to lock up, then we'll go."
Another jangle of keys met Archie's ears as Pop moved to open the diner door. "Car's in the back, I'll be quick."
Archie pulled the device up from its forgotten position as he and Betty exited the warm container of the restaurant and into the blistering cold of the night. Snow flickered by his peripheral and a strange silence met his ear even as Betty rattled off a hurried message to the definite voicemail box that F.P. had left her.
"Mr. Jones, this is Betty Cooper. Again…"
Archie pulled his phone down to inspect the screen.
"Jughead still isn't answering his phone and we were wondering if you had heard from him or…"
The previous label of DAD had disappeared; a black screen faced Archie as speckles of snow fell onto its flat surface.
"When you get this can- if you can just call me back please? Jughead hasn't…just call back as soon as possible. It's an emergency."
It was dead.
Betty's gaze bore an angry hole into her own phone. "No luck Archie."
Had Betty not been in the line of fire, he would have flung his phone into the dark blanket of the night.
Another rolling thud vibrated through the car, choking Archie around his seatbelt as he tried to return Betty's phone to the front row.
"Gah-!" The black leather locked just as slender fingers took the blue encased phone from his hand. With its retrieval he shifted back to a more comfortable position and danced his own fingers across the red line that was probably painted across his neck with the force.
"I'm guessing your dad wasn't too happy with us heading off without him." Archie raised his head to see Betty. Her chin rested an inch above her shoulder and a consoling smile formed on her lips.
"Sorry." His chest bent inwards as the smile tilted down along with the direction of her eyes. "I'm the one who's been pushing forward all night, it's not fair for you to get the backlash from it."
Betty Cooper once again picking up his own mess and taking it as her own.
"Betty." He clicked the red button to release the locking belt from his chest. "You are not taking the blame for this." His fingers danced along the strap as it pulled back to its home beside the window lined outside with ice. "Seriously. Whatever sentencing my dad gives me is completely mine to bear." With a swift tug he brought the buckle back along his chest and into the square opening. "I want to be out here."
As he finally settled under the comfort of a breathable safety feature he blinked up to meet Betty's eyes. He was just in time for them to turn away from his hand that rested besides the belt's end.
"I want to help Jughead."
Betty's voice lowered to a whisper. "Me too."
Archie whispered a prayer that their help wouldn't be too late.
A sudden breathy chuckle resounded next to Betty as the car lurched around a corner.
"You kids can let me take the heat for this one." Archie caught the bright eyes of Pop as they reflected from the front mirror. "I knew no one was gonna stop you two from running after Jones; at the very least I could make sure you kids didn't try to trek across town in this blizzard."
Betty moved off the shoulder of her seat, returning to a straightened position. "Thank you Pop, we really appreciate it," the sincerity from Betty warmed the air along with the heat blasting near Archie's feet.
A moment passed between them as the continual crunch of snow beneath wheels was muted from the thick glass of Archie's door. Through the clear wall Archie noticed a familiar row of houses that were an obvious hint that they were nearing their destination.
He could've continued to rest in the warm seat, comfortably bundled in Pop's thick black coat – which the man had insisted Archie wear upon recognizing his pitiful state of a thin shirt and jeans, while he waited outside the "chock lit' shoppee," in the falling snow, with Betty – listening to the muffled rumble of the moving car through the now desolate streets of Riverdale. However, a spark of recollection shot him away from his resting position by the window.
"Betty, that reminds me," he started waiting for her to face him before continuing. "I don't know if you overheard, but my dad said he's with Sheriff Keller, he was outside the construction site on patrol, so at least he knows about Jughead too."
The pair of blonde eyebrows arched in surprise. "Yeah I heard you say something about Sheriff Keller…" she ended as a thoughtful look flashed over her eyes. "Why was he out this late? I wonder if something came up, a lead or some late night call..."
Archie shook his head. "My dad said some kids got pulled over and taken to the station. There was a report for property damage to a mailbox or something, he was checking the scene, I guess."
The car was slowing to a stop as Archie noticed the cluster of trailer homes which littered past Betty's cheek and over the dashboard.
"Whatever it was I'm glad your dad was able to meet up with him," Betty said just as the car came to a complete stop.
"Alright kids, this is it. I'm guessing you know which trailer to head to?" Pop questioned, reaching an arm to pull the emergency break up. "I'll keep the car running and if something comes up you high tail it straight back here. Understood?"
Betty had already pushed her own door open and was throwing a boot out into the white covering of the ground. "We will, thank you Pop."
Archie followed suit and exited the car. "Yeah, thanks Pop."
"You kids have been a part of my diner and life since before you were born, this is the least I can do." The man flashed a brilliant smile.
A warm vision washed over Archie as he stepped into the cold night.
Memories of long nights spent crowded into a single booth at Pop's diner.
Three kids wrestling over food, laughing along to the soft music of the night, spending every moment convinced that the feeling of perfection would last for eternity – the fundamental part of Riverdale and himself.
Archie shut the car door and quickly turned to the blonde piece of that nostalgic whole.
Yet, as he really took her in, he felt the flickering of those precious memories cease.
Betty trembled under the fluttering specks of white that brushed along her tightly drawn cheeks. Her eyes wandered past him searching for the end point of their current clue, darkened and crackling with a hidden pain. Besides her waist even the pale white of her knuckles became prominent with the tightening grip she held them in.
The last time he had seen her in such a broken state was with him. His mind wandered to the night of the dance and further.
Even in their seemingly untouchable times of childhood innocence there had been bits of hurt or heartbreak. For him a divorce. For Jughead a broken home. But so often for Betty, he knew, her tears had shed with him. Because of him.
But not recently. Not even at points back then.
The realization should have been startling, but it felt somehow right, like how a group of four now felt more full and right then a booth of only three.
Betty never hurt, not when Jughead was there. Not when it was just Jughead and Betty.
As they shuffled through the blanket of snow to the shadowed trailer in the far corner of the park Archie swore to himself that he'd find their missing piece.
Jughead hadn't hurt Betty yet, and Archie sure as hell wasn't going to let him.
Author Notes:
I am S O sorry, it took me forever to update this! Finals absolutely obliterated me, but they're over! Also, I guess we're heading to F.P. now. I had this chapter drafted way back when the stills for episode 11 came out I just never got around to finishing it up, but I absolute exploded when I saw Jughead was bringing his dad food. I almost straggled my sister like "DUDE I CALLED THAT." Also episode 12 provided an in-canon Betty and Archie searching for Jughead so you can imagine the puddle I melted into.
Anyway enough of my musing, let me know what you thought of this chapter! We're about half through now, enjoy the rest of the ride 3 And thank you all for the support and amazing feedback, it's so heartwarming!