Sick Jughead

Betty leans back against the sofa in their regular hangout, waiting for Jug to arrive. Of course, he's normally really early or late. After their normal amount of conversation between the three of them, it is starting to feel like a certain brooding male is missing. Archie leans onto his elbows and looks to Betty.

"Where's Jug?" he asks.

"I don't know actually."

She picks up her phone and when he doesn't arrive within the next five minutes, she is concerned. She calls but gets nothing but white noise. Maybe his phone is dead? But that doesn't make sense. With the latest happenings around this place, she would rather him remember to keep his phone on.

"Betty?" Archie calls. Betty turns around to three of my friends. They are sitting together, all looking to her.

"I don't know where he is. His phone is dead or something," she says with clear panic in her voice. He might have just slept in. Or he might be the next black hood victim. She even considers calling the Black hood back just so that she can get answers before she feels Veronica's hand on her arm. She looks right into her eyes.

"Betty, let's not go crazy. He probably just slept in," she says. "Or maybe he had to get some Serpent stuff done."

"No! I haven't seen him either," Sweet Pea calls from leaning against the vending machine. She shakes her head and decides to take this into her own hands. She can find him herself. She grabs her bag, throws it over her shoulder and begins walking out, ignoring the comments and questions from everyone else in the room. Once she is gone, she gets on the bus to the south side and tries to keep herself calm the entire way, just hoping that he'll answer his phone every time she calls. Then she remembers. FP. She could have just called him!

He answers on the second ring.

"Yeah?" he asks in that classically old voice.

"Where's Jughead? Is he with you? He won't answer his phone!" she says very quickly and then remembers to breathe.

"He should be back at the trailer. He was asleep when I left. I'm working at pops right now, Betty. I'm sure he's alright. Maybe his phone died so he didn't get up for his alarm," he says. "Sure, it's no big deal."

"Well I'm going to go see him," she say.

"Sure, Betty."

"Thanks," she says but before she does, he is gone. At her stop, she gets off and starts running toward his trailer. It is just minutes before she stops in front of his trailer. Nothing looks out of place or wrong in anyway. She runs into the trailer and then looks around. Everything looks fine so she attempts to remain calm.

"Juggie!" she says. He is not on the couch or in the kitchen so she goes back to the bedroom. She finds Jughead laying asleep in his bed with his arm draped over his head. The blankets are strewn about his mattress. His face looks as if it's in anguish. His clothes are lying on the floor, as if he stripped them layer by layer. He is in nothing but his blue stripped boxers.

"Jughead," she says in a soft tone.

He is laying with an arm over his face and his body on his back, slightly shivering but also sweating. He's sick. His phone is sitting on the floor as if it fell from the charger, or maybe he hit it on accident.

"Oh, Juggie," she says, putting her hand to his forehead. It's warm. She kisses his forehead and waits but he doesn't wake up. His chest is rising and falling just a little too fast. Betty walks over to the kitchen and grabs a washcloth. She douses it in cool water and then brings it back to set on his forehead. After that she is determined to find something to help him. She raids their tiny trailer and finds a pain medicine that can double as a fever reducer. She sets it down on the messy nightstand and gets a glass of water. She strips the blankets from his bed and piles them together then grabs a new blanket and carefully drapes it over the lower half of his body.

Jughead starts to move, turning his head to the side. She sits at the edge of his bed and puts her hand on his chest, wiping away some sweat with another cool towel.

"Betty?" he asks.

"Yeah, Juggie. I'm here."

"Is this a dream?" he asks in a quiet, muffled voice. It's almost as if his lips and tongue won't listen to his brain. She continues washing the cold sweat from his body, down his arms and then the back of his neck where his hair sticks to him.

"No. I'm really here," she whispers quietly.

"School."

"No. I'm gonna stay with you today. You're sick. What happened?"

"Germs," he says.

"Never mind," she says with a small smile. His eyes open just a little bit, enough for her to see the pain and illness in them. She begins to put the washcloth on the side of his face when he leans his face against her hand. She leans down to kiss his forehead but he gasps and tries to pull away.

"You'll get sick," he says.

"Jughead," she says with a small laugh. "I don't care. Come on. Let me help you."

He is too weak to argue with her. She grabs the pill and water, helping him sit up. He clenches his eyes and tilts his head down for a few seconds before he shakily takes it from her steady hands.

"Thanks Betty," he says.

"Lay down, Jug. I'll be here," she says, helping him lay back down. He uses most of her to control his fall as he rests back on the mattress. He is shivering again so she pulls the blanket up to his chest and kisses his forehead again. It is a gesture that makes her feel a little better, as if maybe she is giving him some comfort.

"Come here," he says.

She leans down on her elbow and pushes his hair from his face a few times. She continues to do this to sooth him but his face clenches and unclenches, his eyes staying closed the entire time and his body shaking.

"No. Here," he begs, opening his arm. She nods, understanding and crawls into his embrace, resting her head on the pillow beside him. She plays with his hair in one of her fingers as he slowly starts to calm down.

"Don't go," he says.

"I won't."

"Sleep," he mumbles.

"I know. You can sleep. I'll be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere," she assures, laying her head down on the pillow almost touching Jug's. She knows that she will likely get whatever virus has caught Jughead but she doesn't seem to care. She doesn't mind it as long as she can get this beautiful moment of peace out of it.

"Go to sleep, Jug," she says. "I'll be here."

With her words giving him permission, he almost falls asleep instantly. She holds him within the space of her arms for hours, only moving to text the others and tell them that neither of them will be attending school today.

After a few hours, his fever breaks and the sweating returns a lot worse than before. He wakes up in a hot, jumbled mess. She grabs his arm before he starts thrashing and kisses his hand. He looks over at her and even through his confusion and slight pain, he smiles a real Jughead Jones smirk.

"What?" she asks.

"You stayed," he says, rolling over onto his side.

"Of course, I did. I told you I would. I love you."

"I love you too," he says and then attempts to side up. She follows him, holding onto his back when he looks dizzy. But then his eyes meet hers.

"I am really gross," he says.

"Sweaty, yeah," she agrees.

He pushes himself to the edge of the bed where she holds his hand so he can stand. She makes him drink water before he attempts to grab clean underwear, though she would never be able to tell what is what in this trailer. He obviously can as he grabs some red ones and looks back to her before he enters the bathroom.

"What?" she asks.

"Don't you want to help me shower?" he asks.

"I thought you couldn't…you know… since you're sick?" she asks as her normal Betty self. He gives her a small chuckle and then holds out his hand to her.

"Oh, I can do plenty," he says. "Come on, Betty. Make me feel better."

With a smile on her face, Betty follows her boyfriend into a steamy shower.