A/N: Hello my lovelies!

So um HOW GOOD WAS EPISODE 7!

So many feels oh my lord! I loved delving into Jughead's past and of course the Bughead in this episode was beautiful and I love that we're seeing their connection develop in such an honest way as they find their feet in their changing dynamic.

So again I have been completely overwhelmed with your beautiful messages of support and lovely reviews as well as the increasing number of followers I have received. THANKYOU! I AM SO GRATEFUL! I love you all and want you to know that I am getting around to your ideas and thinking of the best ways to do them justice. I am also working on my next addition to my m rated story "The Perfect Storm" at the moment.

I received a few requests about delving into Jughead's home situation and past as well as doing a oneshot that explores tension between Bughead or a challenge in their relationship. Although this oneshot does not completely align with these requests -in the way that this tension is with respect to finding their feet in this relationship, seeing new sides of each other and predicated on the event of the plot-, after the recent episode I thought this might be a nice way to incorporate some tension as well as exploring Jughead's past compliant to the episode as this takes place during episode 7 and a little bit after.

Enjoy xx

"Why are they taking him?" Betty usually interrogated the boy standing beside her. Archie turned at her, his face contorted in an expression of concern as his eyes flickered around the thinning hallway in thought.

"I don't know Betty," he replied trying to be as calm as possible. That was a lie though. They both knew why Sherriff Keller was currently escorting their long-time friend down the halls of Riverdale High and out in the brisk air which would lead them to the town's police station. It was because he was dark and mysterious and the antithesis of everything this town and their superficial charm institutionalised. It was because he was clever and different and refused to conform with their social culture.

"He didn't do it! Archie they can't… he didn't! I.." Betty felt like the room was spinning, she couldn't think straight. This wasn't happening.

"I know Betty. It'll be okay." Archie attempted to reassure her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and offering a placated but warm smile. Taking a breath to recollect her, Betty pulled her thoughts back into line. She had to get it together for him. Ringing out her hands and allowing all the nervous energy that had been inhabiting her body moments ago to flow out of her.

"We have to call his dad," she threw over her shoulder at her best friend as she began walking rapidly toward the doors Jughead had just been forced out of. Jogging slightly to catch up to her, Archie twitched indecisively beside her. She knew that twitch, he had something to say but wasn't sure whether to tell her.

"Maybe we should call my dad first." He offered. Betty rolled her eyes.

"He asked us to call his dad," She snapped back. The blonde sleuth had not time for games, Jughead needed them, needed her and she was damn well gonna be there for him. She refused to watch her rock, her sanity be ripped from her grasp and be victim to ludicrous accusations of crime. How could the Sherriff not see how absurd this was. Betty was furious, she was scared, she was… a mess.

They broke through the doors of the high school, neither paying mind to the crisp air surrounding them. Archie hesitated though once they were out of ear shot, of any kids passing by, causing Betty to stop and fix him with her infamous "spit it out glare".

"I ah, I found Jug sleeping at school yesterday. His dad's… not in a good place," Betty froze. All traces of irritation and urgency fell from her face. Jughead was sleeping at school. Jughead was… homeless? Jughead who had supported her and empathised with her and listened to her go on and on about how catastrophic her life was homeless? Jughead who had adopted her burdens as his own and had worn the brunt of them on his shoulders so that she could breathe was without a family, without stability… without. She felt positively awful. The world titled on its axis and all clarity drowned from the vicinity. Her scope became white noise, as guilt gnawed at her insides and ate away at her conscience. Her heart ached for him. Archie's hand on her arm broke Betty from her internal suffering.

Imploring the red head with her crystal eyes she let the eloquent words of "I'm sorry?" spill from her mouth.

"JP hasn't had a job since he and my dad stopped working together. He's been drinking pretty bad too from what I can tell. Jug said it got worse after his mum and Jellybean left. His dad's not gonna help him Betty," Archie looked as though someone had kicked him in the stomach, as if verbalising such words caused him physical pain and Betty wondered if he felt as ill as she did; something told her he was close but not quite at her magnitude.

"Oh," soft, quiet, and sincerely pained was all she managed in response. Her mind still swimming with images of Jughead and his look of utter dread as he was marched out of school. It sent a sharp jolt of pain through her, as that image was immediately contrasted with the warmth in his green eyes just last night as they pulled her into a haze of trust and adoration as she kissed him and bade him goodnight. Why didn't he tell her. How could he let her have been so selfish? He had been needing someone just as much, if not more than she had been needing someone- a rock, an outlet, a beacon- lately. How was she so blind to his own pain, his own trouble. The implication of how alone he must have felt, must still be feeling that seeped into her brain with such images and thoughts made her feel as though she was going to vomit.

"He needs us. He needs us right now. Arch we have to be there for him," Betty frantically urged. Archie agreed whole heartedly, vigorously nodding in reply.

"We will be." The sweater wearing, blonde wasn't sure if he understood the meaning behind her words. She couldn't tell if he realised she had meant he needed people. People who proved to him that they cared, that they would stick by him. She didn't know if Archie was aware that she meant Jughead needed to be shown that he mattered. That he was important. That they needed him. She didn't dwell on that too much though before she was once again rushing down the street assaulting Archie with directions.

"Call your dad and I'll try his. Even if he doesn't answer or show up, we have to try for Juggie."

The police station was cold, clinical, hostile. That's what Betty thought. She felt stark. As though she was an ugly contrast to the plain sterile walls in her light blue sweater and dark jeans, blonde hair and pink lips- she was aesthetically too innocent for such a harsh place. She could picture her mother here. She could picture the Blossom's here. Hell she could clearly picture Grundy here. But not Jughead. No. This was no place for a broken teen, who wore a beanie as a safety net, and set poetry free from his mouth on the daily.

Betty shivered, as the station's clutches tightened their hold on her and sent her stomach plummeting further for the boy she had come to care so deeply about so quickly. Mr Andrews had arrived and was currently trying to get a hold of Jughead's dad, while Archie was sending a round of texts to their immediate group of friends letting them know what had transpired between their lunch and their last period. Betty didn't care about any of that though. All she could focus on was Jughead and her emblazed desire to let him know she was here; here for him. Becoming increasingly impatient, the typically polite girl next door abruptly stood from her seat and marched confidently over to where Sherriff Keller was discussing with a fellow officer.

"I need to see him," she demanded with no preface. Sherriff Keller fixed her with a calculating gaze- one she did not flinch under. "Now please" she added for good measure hoping to speed up his determination process. The Sherriff sighed, looking at the girl he knew so well before him. After a moment he nodded; they were kids after all.

He led her to the "discussion room" as he called it- they both knew it was an interrogation room- and opened the door for her before leaving Betty to her own devices. Taking a steadying breath she entered the room. His head snapped up at the noise of her boots against the linoleum floor. Their eyes met, the tension exacerbated. Her heart shattered.

His eyes- those perfect green eyes she had witnessed be host to a plethora of emotion ranging from sympathy to glee to cheekiness to angry to shocked to adoration- were filled with fear and beyond that a pain that was so sharp it cut her soul from across the room. His lips moved, trying in vain to form words that were incapable of being verbalised.

Betty felt a tug in her chest at the sight. She wanted to comfort him, to absorb his pain. To make it better. She wanted to hold him and light him up the way he had done for her all those days ago in her room, and again only the day prior to this one, when he had placed his arm around her in the student lounge while she recited the catharsis that was her family life. But she couldn't do any of that- not here.

So Betty settled for being his strength. She could be his rock, be his energy, be his courage and she would make sure that bled into him. Squaring her shoulders, Betty moved across the room to sit in the chair opposite him. The legs scraped the floor harshly, a not so subtle reminder of the severity of the situation they were presently in.

"I didn't do it Betty… you have to believe me." Jughead's voice broke their silence. Although Betty almost couldn't believe it was his voice. His voice was usually so strong, so firm, so deliberate if slightly sardonic. But this, this was the dialect of a broken soul, of a man who had been shaken down, wrung out and left to dry. She fought the burning of tears threatening to spill and tried to level her own before she spoke, thanking god she managed to keep up the strong persona she had promised to inherit for him.

"Of course! I was with you, and I know who you are," she asserted, reaching for his arm, unable to stand the distance between them any longer, unable to let him drown in that river with Jason.

"No, those paradise lost kids went to death row because they wore black and listened to Metallica." He took a shaky breath and she tried not to linger on the far off look in his eyes. She was gonna bring him back. "I don't want to become a scape goat," he admitted.

"I'm not gonna let that happen!" the certainty in her voice was unforced, unrehearsed. It natural, innate, and Betty felt in that moment as though she had never spoken truer words in her life. She was going to fight for him.

Her hand gripped his in a more forceful grip, trying to convey in her actions the depth of her words. "All of the evidence against you is circumstantial, we're going to get you out of here," she promised, letting a small ounce of relief wash over her when he seemed to respond. His hand twitched lightly in hers and his eyes cleared marginally.

Jughead sniffed and inhaled unstably. Her heart wrenched yet again and it took everything she had not to let him see how deeply his pain was resonating within her. Her emotions were integrating in a toxic concoction, as she tried not to let her guilt for letting him suffer like this overrun her concern for him. She did everything in her power not to tell him that she was breaking with him. He didn't need that now. He didn't need to know that every sharp breath he took was like a jagged cut to her insides as if each one of his broken pieces was jarring on her own. She wanted to help him, to make it better, not to tell him how much she wished he had of confided in her.

"Is my dad here yet?" he asked, yet part of her knew he already knew the answer. She still loathed having to be the one to confirm his suspicion though, even if she knew it was best it was her. So Betty attempted to answer the query as tactfully as possible.

"Archie's here with his dad, they're talking to the Sherriff… No one knows where your dad is," she couldn't prevent the catch in her voice, the sadness that managed to embed itself in her news. She couldn't help but cast her eyes down as the most pure expression of hurt and defeat crossed his face. And in that moment she loathed Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Second more than anyone else on the earth.

The intruding bang of the door falling open made her jump as both of them looked up to find Sherriff Keller and Mr Andrews awaiting in threshold, Archie lingering behind them.

"Jughead, Mr Andrews cleared the 11th of July up for me. You're free to go." Both Betty and Jughead tried their best not to look surprised at the Sherriff's explanation, nodding and clambering out of their chairs.

As evening was beginning to mask Riverdale in its luminous glow, rife with mystery, Betty found herself at the Andrew's residence, helping Archie clear some room for Jughead in his bedroom, while Mr Andrews and the boy in question had taken a detour to the school and the trailer park to collect the rest of his sparse belongings.

"It was really nice of you to do this Arch," Betty praised her best friend as they set about clearing junk off the floor. Archie smiled at her but shrugged nonchalantly.

"It's what friends do. I'm not about to stand by and watch him live like that, besides he would do the same for me. And you'd do it for either of us too if your parents weren't… you know, your parents." Betty laughed slightly at that.

"Although I don't know if I would call the two of you just friends anymore?" the red head threw at her cheekily; Betty thought she detected something else in his tone too, but couldn't quite place it. She smiled bashfully at him, unsure herself at what to call them.

"I guess I don't either," she said after a moment of silence with the thought lingering in the air between them. After another moment of deliberation and a small replay of the events of the past week in her mind Betty looked at Archie head on, a serious look bestowed her features.

"We're together."

Archie nodded. "That's-" he struggled looking for the right word, unsure of how he felt yet fully aware that his feelings weren't really relevant to their situation especially after the way he had treated Jughead over the summer and Betty as of late. "That's good. I'm happy for you."

A little while later headlights illuminated the window pane and the pair headed for the stairs. Swinging the front door open, Archie was greeted with directions to assemble the blow up mattress and bedding while Mr Andrews trailed behind his son, carrying the minimal belongings Jughead Jones had to his name, leaving Jughead and Betty alone for the first time since they had left the station.

"Home, sweet home." Jughead mocked, typical sarcastic nature back in place, yet the light in his eyes still seemed dim to Betty.

She was unable to deny the gravitational force between them any longer, and within seconds found herself wrapped around him. Her arms were tight around his waist, head buried in his chest as his arms automatically found themselves wrapping around her back and drawing her further into his space. His warm breath fanned across the top of her head and she allowed herself to get lost in the sensation that was him for a moment.

"I'm okay Betts," he murmured, stroking his thumbs along the small of her back, just under her sweater as she slightly pulled back so that she could see his face.

"No you're not," she objected honestly. Jughead sighed, staring intently at her face, unsure of what to say to her.

"Juggie," she spoke softly, affection engrained deep within her tone, "You've been sleeping at school, you're dad's a mess and your families been torn apart… you're barely keeping your head above water." He bit his lip and slightly turned his head, looking at the wall beyond her, yet staying in her grasp, letting her know she hadn't crossed any lines.

"You're right."

"How come you didn't tell me?" she asked, only slightly afraid of the answer.

"I didn't know how. I was too proud to admit I wasn't okay. And besides you've had enough going on," Jughead shrugged, analysing her soul via his gaze, one she did shy away from, but rather invited. Especially when she put her next words forward, wanting him to understand how true they were.

"My life is crazy right now, sure. But I will always have time for you and whatever you're going through. Jug I'm not so fragile, I can handle it. We can handle it." Betty moved one hand to his cheek as she continued, "I want you to trust me. Please let me in," Jughead moved his head further into her touch, revelling in the feeling that was Betty Cooper and what it was to be the object of her heart. His own chest aching a little at the implication that she felt untrusted by him.

"I do trust you Betty, more than anything. I really was just ashamed. And I know you would never judge and I admire that about you so much. But you not knowing was almost like an escape. I could be your rock, be in your world and let go of my own for while," he admitted sheepishly. Betty swooned a little at that- he did trust her- while simultaneously feeling a sense of remorse for him all over again.

"I understand. But I want you to promise me that from now on we'll be each other's rocks in light of everything going on. We'll be each other's escape but I want to be in the know and I promise you will be too."

"deal." And with that all the anxiety and stress and pain and sorrow of the day melted away for one tiny, perfect, beautiful moment it was just them, two teenagers finding each other in the dark and promising to stick around to unveil the light. It was just them, arms wrapped securely around each other, lips melded in a sweet promise and feelings flowing between the charged air around them. it was just them and their perfectly aligned broken pieces. Just them and their patched up battered souls. Just them and their promise to be there. Just them and their understanding of what it means to drown, to be broken, to be at loss. Just them and their promise to be okay, together.