Jughead lays in her bed, surrounded by things and feelings and smells that are inherently Betty to him, with her curled up into his side and he thinks, even though he's covered in a large cross section of the bodily fluids she'd emitted earlier onto his shirt, that he's probably the happiest he's ever been.
There was the fact that Betty had been so upset and hurt and crying out for help, of course, but everything surrounding that was just so… good. Because now, with him there, she was quiet. Sleepy. Resting. Not crying. Not shaking. Not tripping over her words in an effort to make sense. And slowly, very slowly, he saw her start to put the pieces of herself back together, before she'd fallen dead asleep.
He was there, and she clearly wanted him to be.
"Don't go."
The words had sounded, as they came out of her mouth, like she had her chest cracked open and her heart exposed before him.
And in a way, that had probably been the case.
In the end, he was no more capable of leaving than he was of… well, anything, really, because he was not leaving. Not for a second.
Veronica had turned the light on the bedside table down low on the dimmer, and Jughead had long lost the ability to be embarrassed or ashamed of how he was staring at Betty in the soft glow. Her eyes were shut, her breathing even, and he knew she was out. Her body sagged into his, the dead weight of her on his chest an excellent indicator that, yes, he had been right, she had definitely needed sleep.
Her skin was still pink in places, tinged with speckled red in others, where the blood had started to pool at the surface of her skin as a result of her scrubbing. The bandage he'd put on the worst part was still there in place, and he ran his thumb over the other exposed shoulder. Betty snuffles and hugs him closer.
The summer sun is bright against her eyelids, and Betty flutters them open gradually. Her room is bathed in light, and the -
She moves to roll over and hisses out between her teeth.
It all comes back to her in an instant.
Blurry memories of water that was far too hot, of scraping skin, of the bloom of blood. But also the sharpness of the knocks at the front door, Jughead's limbs braced like rebar, the reverence with which he had bandaged her up.
Jughead.
"Don't go."
Betty pats over the other side of the bed, and determines it's vacant. She lets a heavy sigh slip from between her lips. He probably went home, and -
"Oh, you're awake."
Relief floods her system, dopamine making her brain fire rapidly at the sound of his voice.
"Hi," she croaks, voice rough and raspy. She can tell immediately that all the crying and tears from last night had used up whatever water content had been in her body, for her mouth feels like dry cotton, her teeth like they have a winter coat, and her head is aching.
Jughead is standing a few steps into her room, wrapped in a towel, his dark hair saturated and drooping into his eyes. Betty can see the bright sunlight glint off the water droplets on his skin.
"Hi," he responds, and it's soft. "I'll be right back."
He's gone for what hardly seems like a minute or two, back, but this time he's dressed.
"How are you feeling?" he asks her, watching her face intently.
"Sore, kinda," she breathes. "But better. Thank you."
His eyes dart away, unsure, or embarrassed, or -
"No, really," she starts again, hooking a finger around two of his and making him glance back to her face. "Thank you."
"I'm so sorry you thought you were alone," Veronica speaks, quiet. "I went to go get Jughead, after you came in and were so… distraught. It was quicker than him trying to train over, when time was of the essence, I thought…"
"Really, it's okay, V," Betty assures her. "I'm really - it's fine. It's more than fine."
The raven-haired woman crushes her in a fierce hug.
"You should consider making a video about it."
Betty looks up at Jughead as she's connecting the wires he's pointed out to her.
"About online bullying and hurtful comments. It's just a suggestion, but I think your personal experiences would only add conviction to the words you say."
She's over at his place, helping him set up for filming something, he hasn't specified what, but she's been doing this for weeks now. They'll set up for filming something for one of their channels, leave the other to it for a bit, and then go get food. Or go to the movies. Or stay in and watch TV. Or read in the park. She even convinced him to go glow bowling with her last week, an event that had shocked Archie into what he jokingly described as a very premature heart attack. They do lots of things together these days.
And Betty knows it's probably because he feels some sort of responsibility, to which she's tried to make him understand, he has none. He's relentless, however.
"It's not really my norm. Bit depressing, don't you think? You really think I should cover something like that?" she asks, tucking her hair behind her ear and reaching for more connections. The camera is already set up, and Betty hooks it to the monitor Jughead uses to make sure he's in frame while talking.
"Why not? Hard hitting Betty Cooper is my favourite Betty Cooper," he gives her a nudge as he passes behind her.
"I wasn't aware you had a favourite me," she quirks, spinning in his chair to follow him.
"Well, if we're being honest here, I like all yous."
The tips of his ears are red, and so are hers.
"And also," he pauses, and she watches his Adam's apple bob, his eyes still focusing on his task, "I'm really happy you're doing better now. With everything. With knowing the difference in value between how you see your worth and how others do. Others who don't know you. Who have no right to comment on your life."
"It's mostly thanks to you, Jug."
Betty reaches out to squeeze Jughead's bicep, and his hand covers it for a moment, giving a gentle squeeze back before dropping away again.
"This is nerve-wracking," Betty flutters. "I still don't even know what to say."
They're setting up in her room, and Jughead's forced her to sit in her filming spot at the end of her bed and stay still while he adjusts the camera height.
"Never said it would be easy, Betts. Just a good idea," he states, tightening a knob. "Once you get going, I'm sure it will come more easily."
They have this whole thing down to a science now, the setup and takedown of their equipment. Jughead has managed to teach her quite a lot about the filming and editing process, and given her the tools to improve her video quality immensely. And she's so so grateful.
That's all she can think these days. She's just so grateful to him. For everything.
He's just clicking around in the camera settings and adjusting something for her, when her staring finally catches his eye from over the lens.
"Yes?" he prompts, giving her a hesitant look, like he's sure it's probably just because he has something on his face.
Betty's stomach lurches.
"Do I look okay?" It comes out as barely a mumble.
His chin drops and he gives her a look. Betty's skin burns with embarrassment under his gaze. She's not supposed to be letting those thoughts get to her.
"You know what I mean," she huffs out, knowing that she's fiddling with her hair too much, adjusting her clothes too often. "Do I look camera okay?"
His hands still.
"The answer for that is the exact same as the first iteration," he reassures her.
He means, yes, you look beautiful, but he doesn't say it in so many words. She doesn't normally need him to, because it's always perfectly clear to her what he means.
"Juggie."
His fingers brush her hair back off her cheek and she can't decide if she should hold his gaze or look away, flushing either way.
"Yeah, you do," he answers her question.
When she finally posts the video she filmed, edited down into some form of something she hopes makes sense, Jughead retweets it with no explanation.
Just the crown emoji.
It's been weeks, maybe even a month, since she posted her video, the one Jughead encouraged her to film. She's had a great response, so far. People have restored her faith in humanity a little bit.
She's home today, notebook open and coloured pens spread out around her. She's making notes and brainstorming topics and searching local event listings for the next month, still in her pajamas.
Betty's phone dings, and she looks over to see a text from Veronica.
Betty call me right now this instant.
Frowning, she does. Veronica picks up on the first ring, her voice elevated in excitement.
"Have you seen your instagram lately because Jughead tagged you in something that's…"
"What?" Betty asks, puzzled.
Her and Jughead have never ever posted or tagged each other in things, specifically because the internet likes to hound them even when they don't mention each other by name.
"He tagged you in a post and you need to go see it. I'm dying, oh my god, go now and tell me what happens later. I can't believe that boy, he's so extra."
Betty hangs up, perplexed, because not many people would describe the brooding man as 'extra', but she opens the photo app anyway.
Jughead has actually tagged her in something, a video he posted 8 minutes ago. It starts to play and she taps for volume.
"What do you mean you don't like mustard on hot dogs, that's a travesty," video Jug is telling video Betty, and she recognizes it from a few weeks ago when they were experimenting with his lights setup. She herself is attaching a light diffuser to a stand, off to the side of the camera frame.
Behind her, Jughead is sitting in his rolly chair with a small smile on his face and piece of paper in his hands, holding it up specifically for the camera to focus on.
All it reads is 'Betty' in his familiar scrawl, and she frowns a little, confused.
The next clip is similar, but a different day, a different video they're prepping.
"Uh, no, you can't say that, it sounds super pompous," she's telling him. "I mean, unless your goal is to sound like a jackass."
But the paper he flashes up to the camera when she's not looking says 'Cooper' this time.
Her stomach starts to gurgle unsurely.
The next snippet is yet again different. Neither of them are fully in the shot but their voices are close to the mic.
"Are you positive you don't want to go rollerblading with me?" she's pleading, and they both lift opposite ends of his desk to shift it for the shot.
"I have the coordination of a newborn giraffe, Betty. The day will finish with us in urgent care."
Video Betty sighs dramatically and crosses in front of the camera briefly, mumbling under her breath, and another slip of paper is held in front of the lens right after.
'Will'.
And on it goes, through flashes and glimpses of them, just seconds of insight into their behind the scenes workings.
'You'.
"I'm starving so hurry up and film cause I need Thai, like right now," video Betty is saying. "It's absolutely necessary." Video Jughead rolls his eyes and holds a piece of paper up.
'Go'.
"No, here, your hair looks weird," video Betty rearranges the swoop of his dark hair as he looks up at her, holding a post-it note behind her back for the camera.
'Out'.
"Could you maybe not be so sassy, jeez," Jughead is passing behind Betty when he flashes more paper at the camera over her head, and she's spinning yet again in his desk chair and not even remotely paying attention to what he's doing.
'With'.
"Here, I made you a sandwich so you don't lose your shit and ramble for an hour," Betty's hand and arm reach into the shot and set a plate down in front of a delighted looking Jughead.
'Me?'
The screen flashes black before the loop starts again, but Betty can't see anyway. She's shaking and grinning and her stomach won't stop flipping so she reaches for a pink post-it.
He's so nervous after posting the video that he has Archie hold his phone and watch to see if Betty calls.
Or texts.
Or whatever.
He spent the whole time editing those clips together wondering if he was doing the right thing, if she would be so mad that he posted something with her in it without asking permission, but Veronica had assured him over and over again that Betty would love it.
"Dude, chill," Archie is laughing. "She's gonna say yes."
"You don't know that! What if I just fucked everything up?" he tosses his beanie onto the couch and drags his fingers through his hair.
"You didn't. Ronnie said, and I quote, "it's so romantic, Arch, isn't it?" so I think you're gonna be fine."
"Romantic," he scoffs.
He's sweating, his stomach hurts, he can't keep still.
"Bro," Archie pipes up.
"Yeah, yeah, relax, I know," he sighs.
"No, bro, she tagged you back."
The ginger tosses his phone back to him, and he catches it in shock.
Oh, shit, it's judgement day.
The app doesn't load as fast as he wants it to, and he tamps down the urge to throttle it, because throttling technology is not generally helpful.
It's a photo.
It's Betty, golden hair piled into a bun on top of her head, with a stupid grin on her face, her eyes crossed and her tongue poking out from between her teeth. He notes immediately that she's still in her pyjamas, she's got no makeup on, and he's just so proud of her for not even caring.
And there, stuck to her forehead, is a bright pink sticky note that reads 'YES', and below, the caption:
'You had me at food trucks'.
A/N: First day of filming Season 2, so I think it's fitting to post the last chapter today.
Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, kudos'd, bookmarked, alerted, faved, and come to find me on tumblr. You guys are awesome.
Let me know what you think, now it's over, and keep an eye out for more Riverdale. I'm working on something else for these guys, too.
xoxo