Chp. 10 – Betty.

"Wow." Was the only word I could possibly form. Absent-mindedly cupping my hot chocolate, I let the magnitude of Jughead's words settle inside me, trying to form a coherent explanation of it all. It could see that he watched me closely, a little crease of worry formed in-between his eyebrows as the silence stretched on between us. My eyes couldn't help but linger on the few lines of tattoo, visible under the collar of his sleeve. He kept tugging the thing down, glancing around that no one was suspicious of him.

Nodding slowly, I leaned back inside the corner booth we were seated at. It was a commercial coffee shop chain, but pretty empty for this time of night. I was due to meet Kevin here tomorrow to review the place and suss out the atmosphere. But then Jughead called and I suddenly needed somewhere discreet, where we wouldn't be seen.

I could feel the stress emanating from him in waves as he waited patiently for my response, after dropping a huge bombshell on me. It was strange. I'd always been brought up to believe that anyone who wore the same mark on his arm, was immediately a terrible person. But I was older, no longer naive and weak, most importantly – I was free to make my own decisions.

FP was a good person, beneath his tough exterior. He cared about his friends and family. So much so, he bravely faced decades in prison to save his only son from the same fate, Clifford Blossom dealt to his own. FP started the Serpents in the first place as means of brotherhood and belonging, and built it from the ground upwards. Regardless of the mark he proudly wore, it didn't change his priorities or his morals.

"This doesn't change anything, if that's what you're worried about." I said finally.

At once, he relaxed in his seat, running a hand through his beanie-less hair, as it lay forgotten in front of us. The worry etched on his face turned into relief and I couldn't help but smile. It was easy to deduce, he'd been worrying about this conversation for days.

I extended my hands across the table and stroked his fingers softly, illuminated from the soft pink glow of the wall sconces.

"You've got a mean poker face, Betts." He breathed outwards and took a gulp of coffee.

"Alice Cooper is my mother. Without a good poker face, I wouldn't survive," I reminded him. "Which is why you need to let me help you investigate. Archie's special to both of us."

He sighed, exasperated and melted backwards into the booth. "We've been over this, Betty. If Archie knew what we were doing, even he'd agree it's way too dangerous for you… Did you warn Veronica?"

"Yes, she gets the picture." I muttered.

"Good," he approved and lightly touched his forearm under the fleece jacket, wincing slightly. "It's best not to tell anyone about me right now, or about the Serpents. I want this to stay quiet for as long as possible until I can figure out what to do next." The corners of his eyes crinkled with the unspoken stress of a few sleepless nights.

I was totally powerless, unable to help alleviate his burden. I was also his burden.

"Well, you could have just said no." I joked weakly.

"Had to make it believable," he shrugged. "I'll be careful."

"Juggie," I whispered into my cup, eyes moving down to the table. "Are you really going to become the leader of the Serpents?" It was a question I almost didn't want to ask, but the words had already tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. I could see his expression darken – he was scared I would ask him outright.

There was a heavily pregnant silence as he kept his thoughts to himself. Eventually, he shook his head. "I don't want to be."

"I just hope that one day, Archie appreciates all of this. What you've sacrificed for him."

He swallowed his mouth of coffee and brushed my fingers lightly with his own. "Archie and Fred were there for me, during some of the worst times of my life. I've never told anyone this Betty, but there's a side of me that I struggle to keep down, too." Ashamed, he blushed and nibbled on his fingernails, becoming engrossed on the skin around his thumb.

I frowned, recalling FP's works to Archie; Jughead has some darkness in him. I guess I always knew, deep down that he struggled with life in general, only really coming out of his shell the past year and really showing me who he really was. Before then, it was difficult to think back of a memory where he actually smiled.

The boy sat in front of me, was still that sad little, lonely child that used to hang around the comic book shop on his own after school and boycott all birthday parties. Deep down, he carried just as many scars as I did.

Taking both of his hands gently into mine, I locked gazes with him. "That's why you aren't bothered about my dark side, isn't it? You deal with your own." It was like a light had just clicked on, inside my head. Jughead was so ready to accept every part of me, without questions, without judgement. It was what he wanted more than anything else; to be accepted and loved for who he was.

Seeing the resolution on my face, he nodded sheepishly. "You got it, Betts."

The corner of my eyes were suddenly moist. He leaned up to wipe the tears away with the sleeve of his jacket. I hated to think of him all alone. It broke me inside.

"I uh," he paused, searching for the right words. "I fell into a really dark place when I was fourteen. Mom was on drugs, Dad couldn't bear to watch her destroy herself so he was always out with the gang. Man, he was really bad at the whole supportive thing. Jellybean went through a period where she barely slept for a few years and had night terrors when she was too exhausted to stay awake. Basically, everyone was falling apart and it was down to me, to try and keep the family going," he inhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Looking back, I was suffering a lot more than I thought I was. One day, it got too much and I began thinking some really dark thoughts… What life would be like if I wasn't around anymore…" Trailing off, he cleared his throat and gazed around the small coffee shop – now empty with closing time nearing.

I stayed silent, heart hammering slowly and loudly inside my chest. Jughead's face scrunched up slightly.

"About a month later," he continued. "I started cutting myself to feel something – anything. It gradually got worse and I started doing it deeper, so it'd bleed longer. What scared me most, was just how good it felt. How it was the first time I felt so… In control of everything. In that moment, I was in charge of my own destiny for once." He sniffed, roughly wiping his sleeve under his nose.

"Juggie, I had no idea…" I whispered between a waterfall of silent tears. He shone a quick fake smile and nodded.

"No one did. I didn't tell anyone. One day, the football team were giving me a hard time and with everything going on at home, I decided that I just wanted to end it, there and then. I left school as usual that day and ended up taking a walk by Sweetwater River. There's a bridge up near the East side that used to be a hangout of mine. I walked up the hill and sat on top of the bridge, legs dangling over the edge. I remember feeling nervous and realising just how far a drop it was," he traced the rim of his cup with a forefinger, backwards and forwards in anxiety. "Before I got the courage to do it, Fred Andrews walked over the bridge with Vegas – saw me sitting over the edge and put two and two together." His voice broke and he sniffed. When he glanced upwards, his eyes were glistening.

"Fred stopped you?" I whispered.

Jughead nodded wordlessly, getting himself together. "It was totally the worst moment of my life and then my best friend's father appears and it was all too much. He didn't shout or yell. He sat down next to me and we talked for a couple of hours. By the time it was nightfall, he made me realise that this dark period wouldn't last forever. He told me to come by the house if I ever needed an escape, or someone to talk to."

"And that's when you started hanging out with Archie a lot more?"

He smiled. "Yeah. I don't think Fred ever told Arch what I almost did. But when my mom and Jellybean left and I lived in the school for a little while – Fred came to my aid again, offering me to stay with them."

I nodded slowly. The past few months suddenly all made much more sense in the space of just a few minutes, and why Jughead was so determined and focussed on finding the killer and bringing him to justice.

"I owe Fred and Archie," he said confidently, all traces of sadness and misted eyes now gone. "They both got me through up until this point. Now, it's my time to pay them back for what they did for me. First, I'll avenge Fred and find this guy, then I'll support Archie – no matter what."

Before he could open his mouth to say anything else, I closed the gap between us and caught his lips in mine. At once, his responded and deepened the kiss – to which I happily obliged. Our fingers found each other across the table once again and automatically interlaced, drawn together by some unknown force.

I loved Jughead Jones, more than words could ever say. Tattoo be damned, I was going to stay with the boy of my dreams and continue to love him fiercely and stand by his side, no matter what. He'd been through too much and I also had my scars. But we were so right for each other. We made the other, whole.

And that was what love really was.

"Betty?"

Brought out of my thoughts, I stared around at the sea of faces gathered around the lunch table, all peering at me anxiously. Reggie waved a hand in front of my face, looking uneasy.

"Betts?" He muttered. "You okay?

Don't call me that, I almost said aloud. Only he calls me that.

"I'm fine." I said automatically and smiled around at my friends. I resume prodding the cold lump of spaghetti on my plate, pushing it around absent-mindedly. I could see Veronica and Cheryl exchange looks with Kevin and Reggie.

Fine, was a long haul – but it was all I had. My boyfriend was currently in a school lunch hall across town, adorned with a new tattoo that all of the South Side kids probably admired. He would no doubt, be both respected and feared by his peers. But I couldn't stop thinking about his suicide revelation, knowing with all certainly that there would be no way I'd be able to talk him into coming to his senses. Not after what he felt for Fred Andrews.

"B, you aren't hungry?" Veronica said gently.

Before I had a chance to answer, a dark shadow loomed across the table with a sullen-looking Archie Andrews staring back at the group. He moved around everyone's faces – I glanced down at the orange plate and ignored him.

"Any room?" He muttered, slightly hopeful. There was a slight tinge of alcohol in the air, but nowhere near as bad as it was before. His thick, red hair even looked as if he'd bothered to drag a comb through it that morning.

Veronica scowled instantly and arose to her feet. "I've lost my appetite." She announced and grabbed her tray and chemistry books. Kevin grabbed his duplicate copies and hurried after her with an awkward smile.

"You can have my seat buddy, I'm off to see the Coach anyway." Reggie said warmly and clapped him on the shoulders. As he passed me, I caught the slight whisper of 'Good luck' shot in my direction.

"Well," Cheryl smiled, her red lips stretching wide. "My, isn't this a surprise? Sit down, Archiekins." She shuffled further up the bench and he gratefully sank down opposite me. My eyes were firmly glued to the spaghetti catastrophe. I was done with trying to bring Archie Andrews back from oblivion.

"How are you doing, Betty?" Archie muttered quietly. I could feel his eyes on my face as I determinedly didn't meet them.

"Great." I hissed.

Cheryl rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't mind her, she's such a glum Gus today!" She kicked me lightly under the table with a well-aimed boot. Wincing, I shot her a glare.

"Cheryl – do you mind giving us a minute?" Archie asked, throwing me into surprise. Cheryl's perfectly tinted eyebrows, rose as she was dismissed. In her new-found self, she opted not to argue. Quietly, she smiled and gathered her things and left.

"What do you want, Archie? Round two?" I shot as soon as she was out of earshot, plunging us into alone-ness.

Taken aback by my abrasiveness, he glanced down at the lunch table. It was very apparent that curious stares were being thrown our way from curious bystanders, itching to see another verbal battle. His cheeks were tinted a slight shade of red, he was embarrassed.

"Don't worry, I'll make this quick… I just, wanted to say that I'm sorry," he grunted. "I was being an asshole and you were only trying to look out for me – just the same as the others. I literally had no right to treat you like that."

"No," I agreed. "And you were a jerk."

"That too… I'm just going through a hard time, okay?" He fell silent, fingers dancing on the table. He threw a self-conscious look over his shoulders to where a group of freshman were gazing in our direction. At once, I recognised the group that asked me if Archie carried a gun. As soon as they caught us staring back, they resumed their conversation in hushed tones.

I sighed. "I was expecting more grovelling, but it's a start I suppose."

He grinned. "Plenty more grovelling coming your way, I promise. I just don't want to lose our friendship. We've known each other since we were kids."

"You were a jerk back then too. You pulled the heads off my dolls-…"

"-… And glued them back on again, as soon as I realised you were upset," he finished. "For your sixth birthday, I got my mom to take me to the toy store and buy you a new one to make up for it."

"Then you'll recall, I also promised I would never let you forget it? Yes, this is one of those moments."

He smirked. "We also said we were going to get married at 18, but look where we are now."

I rolled my eyes. "That was a million years ago. Are you going to enlighten me as to why you've suddenly decided to talk now? Stop stalling." I caught him off guard and he closed his mouth in surprise. Swallowing, he played with his fingers absentmindedly.

"You could say, I'm at an impasse," he muttered. "I'm totally lost right now and in truth, I need friends to trust that I'm not going crazy. Betty, I think either Hiram or the Serpents definitely had something to do with my father's death." Looking over his shoulder once again to check we weren't being heard, he leaned forwards on his arms and stared at me seriously.

"Arch, you don't have proof of that," I was uneasy. "You can't just go around and make assumptions. You'll really hurt Ronnie or Juggie."

"I know," holding up his hand, he nodded. "Betty, to tell you the truth – I'm digging for clues, so I have a basis to go to Sheriff Keller with." He looked so confident with himself, happy to be focussing his energy into something that wasn't binging on alcohol and self-destruction. I couldn't tell him what I knew. It would only worsen his fears.

"You need to let this go," I begged and leaned forwards, whispering. "You're going to get yourself in serious trouble."

"Only if I get caught," he teased. "I'm doing a lot more for my father than anyone else in this town, so I'd like to see Keller charge me with anything."

"Does he need to be charging you with anything, Archie? That's the real question."

"Not yet."

"You're making me nervous, Archie." I sighed and arose to my feet, dragging the tray of uneaten spaghetti with me and dumping it in the nearest bin. Archie followed close behind at my heels as we wandered down the hallway. His sudden animated-ness was a sure surprise in weeks of darkness, but there was a cold ball of dread in my stomach.

He stopped in front of me, forcing me to pause in my tracks. "I will find out what really happened, Betty. And then I'll be a better friend, okay? I swear, I'll make it up to you when I've avenged my Dad."

"You can start by not endangering yourself." I muttered, veering past him down towards the Blue and Gold office, and guaranteed silence.

The threads of my life were all unravelling one by one as yet another special person in my life, was thrown into uncertainty and danger. Tossing my bag down at my desk, I sank into Jug's old armchair in the corner and my head sank into my hands, wondering what was going to implode on me next.

The smell of the old upholstery really made me miss Jughead. I craved for him to be sitting next to me, shaking his head and insisting that I was a lot stronger than I felt inside. I needed to hear his words, his fingers through my hair and fingers.

"I can deal with this," I whispered into my palms. "It will all work out." Using a calming technique that he taught me months ago, I managed to get my breathing under control and halt the impending panic attack. Allowing myself to lean back into the seat, I closed my eyes and imagined we were sitting together, talking about silly topics like we'd been best friends all our lives.

It wasn't long before I stepped gratefully out of the double doors of the school, to find Jughead Jones himself, waiting for me at the bottom of the steps. Feeling a huge smile creep across my lips, I bounded down and threw myself into his arms.

"Woah," he grinned, spinning me round. "Hello to you too, Betts." He straightened his beanie, ignoring the curious glances being thrown in our direction by hungry freshman. It wasn't hard to work out why – it was a fairly warm day for Spring, so he'd decided to ditch the jacket for the afternoon and wear his grey t-shirt, which strained against his lightly muscled arms. His chest was a little bit broader, no doubt from spending most of his spare time with the Serpents when he wasn't at school.

"I missed you." I murmured shyly and pressed my lips lightly against his.

"Tell me about it," he smiled and set me down. "At least you know everyone in this school!"

"You have friends too!"

He raised his eyebrows. "As I mentioned to you previously, my friends consist of both you and Arc-…" He paused, not sure whether to still proclaim the red headed menace as his token best friend. He dropped it and continued. "My social acquaintances at my new school are either with me because they're scared of my father and my affiliation with the gang, or because they want to stay on my good side for protection."

I frowned. "So now you're the Godfather of the South Side Serpents?"

"Not quite," he chuckled. "I'm still finding my feet. Do you know how many codenames and phrases there are, running with the snakes?"

"Who'd have thought it?" I muttered dryly. Interlocking fingers like we'd hadn't been apart for days, we slowly began walking towards the police station as Jughead began to retell his recent goings on within the gang. Soon enough, the words died on his lips and I could feel the gaze of his eyes, burning into the side of my head.

"Betts are you okay? What's wrong?" There was no point in evading or lying, he knew me too well.

"Nothing," I smiled. "Archie just decided to try and apologise to me today. That's all."

"And that upsets you?" A crooked smile played at the corner of his lips. A curl of black hair blew out from underneath his beanie and cascaded down the side of his head.

I shrugged. "I don't really know, Juggie. He kind of cornered me, said he was sorry and tried acting as if the past few months never happened in the first place. I know he lost his father and I couldn't ever imagine his pain… But what do I even do with that? It was like I didn't even recognise who I was speaking to, anymore." I sighed loudly, opening a flood gate of emotion that I didn't even realise I was holding back. Jughead squeezed my fingers in his own cold ones.

"Maybe he's really trying to make amends?"

I snorted. "He's worked out finally that he's been an ass to every person who's tried offering their help to him. But we have another problem, Jug." I stopped in my tracks and tugged on the sleeve of the denim jacket tied around his waist. He stopped, looking concerned.

"What is it, Betts?"

I swallowed the slowly growing, ball of the dread in the bottom of my stomach. My mouth tasted like lead. "He's thrown all of his new-found energy into trying to connect the Serpents and Hiram into Fred's murder. He's totally convinced."

He frowned. "What does he expect to find exactly? A confession note, scribbled on the back of a bar napkin?"

"Who knows?" I slapped the side of my legs. "But you need to be careful Jughead, if Archie sees or even hears about what you're up to – I really don't even want to think about it."

"He wouldn't stop and let me explain," he muttered. "Okay, I'll be extra careful."

We began walking again in a comfortable silence, the weight of Archie dawning on the both of us like a troubled child we needed to protect. I struggled to forget the crazed, vengeful look in his eyes as he talked about the Serpents and Hiram Lodge. I didn't doubt, that he would break any law possible to found out who killed Fred Andrews.

The clouds above were beginning to streak across the sky and bring in darkened hues from the north. We reached the police station just as it was starting to spit. Jughead held the door open for me as we stepped into the quiet waiting room, governed by a small lady on the reception desk. She glanced up at the sound of the door closing and shone us a smile.

"Jughead," she greeted. "Haven't seen you in a while?"

"Been busy." He nodded by way of explanation, not wanting to elaborate any further. Sorely used to his evasive personality, she shone us one last smile before returning to her newspaper and the automatic gates, swung open in front of us.

FP Jones paced around his cell as soon as we approached the final corner to the holding unit. Hearing footsteps, he glanced up to see us both stood gingerly in front of the bars.

"Son," he greeted. "It's damn good to see you. You as well, Betty."

"How are you doing, Mr Jones?" I leaned against the bars. He cracked a smile and shoved his hands inside the pockets of his old jeans.

"I told ya – enough of the formalities. You can call me FP. You're family now, after all." He glanced at Jughead and nodded in approval. "Plus, you keep my boy in check for me."

"A full time job." I snorted and rubbed Jug's shoulder affectionately. He rolled his eyes and grabbed two wooden chairs from the corner of the room and slid one effortlessly towards me. Sinking into it gratefully, I tried not to draw attention to the fact that jail made me anxious.

Jughead winced as he tapped the side of his chair with his tattooed arm. Moments before arriving, he'd made sure to slip on the denim jacket and pull the sleeves down to his wrists. But it was too late, FP had already noticed the obvious discomfort.

"How's things Jug? Heard from your Mom?" His eyes stayed resting on his son's covered arm. The question was loaded.

"No," Jughead chuckled. "She and Jellybean have been virtually unreachable since you… Well, since everything happened." He hedged.

"That doesn't surprise me," FP muttered dryly. "Are you staying out of trouble? The South Side is no joke."

"Kids are kids." He shrugged in reply.

"Not what I mean, son." He moved his eyes pointedly towards Jughead's covered arm and glanced at the mounted CCTV camera on the dingy grey brickwork wall. Jughead followed his gaze, unable to find the words to string together a coherent sentence to explain his difficult situation, without alerting the police about his new-found status.

"It's not what you think, FP." I whispered.

"It better not be," he muttered, eyes flashing. "It's the one thing in this world, I never wanted for you, Forsythe."

At the use of his given name, Jughead scowled and stiffened. "It's what I'm left with, Dad. Things are a mess out there. I'm looking for answers-…"

"-… Some answers you aren't meant to find," FP interrupted and sighed. "Like with the Blossom kid – you need to let this go."

"Do you know anything?" Jughead dared. He gazed silently towards his father who stared unabashed back at him. FP placed his hands on the hips of his flannel shirt and began pacing the room once more. The lack of a usable razor had caused his normally-managed stubble, to grow into the makings of a small beard. He ran his calloused fingers through the rough hairs.

"No," he answered finally. "When Fred came to see me that morning, he was spooked about something though."

"The morning of his death?" I pressed. "Do you remember what he said?" His dark eyes flicked up to meet my own hopeful ones. He didn't want to disappoint the eager teenagers stood before him.

FP blinked slowly, thinking. "Look – I don't wanna fuel your curiosity for something you both need to drop and leave alone. It could be dangerous."

"Because it was a professional hit?" Jughead ventured. He glanced self-consciously again at the CCTV camera on the wall. His jawline was hard, desperate to explode with the millions of probing questions that he wanted to freely ask without the looming promise of being caught on tape.

"Jesus, Jughead – you can't go throwing around words like that." His father hissed, throwing his hands behind his head. He paced around his cell anxiously, helpless. "Look – I don't know a damn thing about why my buddy was shot – or even by who… But Fred was uncomfortable, constantly checking his phone and jumping whenever he made a noise."

"I've never seen Fred act like that before." I mused.

FP rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I knew the guy for twenty years – give or take. That boy never backed down to anyone and always stood up for the little guy. Even when we were separated into North and South, we stayed friends."

"Even when Alice Cooper and Fred got together, after she moved?" Jughead bristled. As soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, my head snapped towards him loudly – echoed in the near-empty cell block. He looked instantly as if he regretted his words and stared down at the tiled floor, shaking his head in sheer disappointment of himself. I barely noticed his self-loathing attitude through the sheer magnitude of the sounds of my thrumming heart against my rib cage. Jughead had literally just insinuated that our respective parents, had dated each other historically.

FP visibly blanched at the revelation and glanced towards me and turned his eyes back onto his son, learning through the bars. "Kid – maybe it's not the best time to talk about this…" He trailed off.

"-… We're talking now," I said firmly. "So when the hell were you going to tell me this?" My fiery-eyed look caused Jughead to retreat back a couple of steps, palms held up. Even from halfway across the room, I was confident he could feel my fury.

"Betts, I'll tell you everything that I know, later. Okay?" His eyes pleaded silently, desperate to finish the mission that we came here to accomplish, before getting into anything else. As much as I wanted to pin him down and get some serious answers, I had to agree. FP Jones needed to give up what he knew, and fast.

It was painful, but I swallowed my anger like an adult – with the silent glare towards Jughead that we would revisit our conversation later and he would willingly update me on everything he knew thus far. Stepping towards FP leaning through the bars, I outstretched my hands and took his calloused larger ones, in my own. A little taken aback, he stood up straighter and locked eyes with me.

"Mr Jones," I begged. "It's really important that we find out what Fred said to you that day. We can't update you on everything – until we can make some sense of it ourselves… But Archie is struggling, Mary is at her wits' end and there is a killer on the loose, potentially cutting out the witnesses," I swallowed hard, Chic's warning still fresh in my mind like the scent of sickly, maple syrup. "We're already in danger. Juggie, is trying his best to dig for whatever information he can, but we can't do everything alone." I glanced backwards at my boyfriend, who significantly tapped his covered forearm, a semi-solemn look across his face.

FP sighed heavily, shaking his head so hard that his new-found beard; wobbled along worriedly with it. I felt bad for him. The stresses of losing his family, his freedom and now fear of Jughead's future; aged him considerably. The lines on his face were deeper, clearer cut than I was used to.

"He came to check up on me," FP muttered. "Said he was worried that I would be moved soon, or he wouldn't be able to visit for a while. He was flustered and I kept asking him if he was okay. Stubborn bastard he was, he said he was fine – just waiting for Archie to wake up, so they could go and get breakfast together," he eyebrows furrowed. "He kept checking his phone as I said before. I thought it was pretty out of character – Fred wasn't one to worry about constant communication with Archie. When I questioned it, he got a text, said he was sorry and left suddenly."

"And that's it?" Jughead sighed, exasperated. Throwing a sideways glance at me, he paced the room with his arms folded in sheer disappointment.

"It tells us something at least – Fred was concerned about something." I reasoned.

"Because Archie probably stayed out all night with Veronica and didn't check in," Jughead gestured wildly. "This is a dead end."

"Sorry kid, not too sure what you want me to say." FP shrugged, genuinely saddened he couldn't provide anything more to the investigation. Leaning on the bars, he chewed lightly on his tongue and pressed his fingers against the coarse facial hair. The expression on his face altered slightly. He raised his eyes to meet mine.

"He mentioned your Mom, Betty."

"My Mom?" I frowned. "Why? They aren't really even friends. Although… Now I'm not sure on their relationship anymore." I couldn't help but shoot Jug a hurt look that he didn't feel the need to divulge my own mother's history to me. I briefly wondered what else he was hiding.

"He uh… Muttered something about Alice not getting back to him about something. He was frustrated. God knows what was on Fred's mind that day." He trailed off, still obviously tortured by the fact that he couldn't even attend the funeral of his old friend.

Jughead's eyes met mine. A sense of silent urgency passed between us.

"Thank you, FP," I smiled softly. "You've been a great help."

"Anything for you, Betty," smiling back in his own gruff fashion, he leaned outwards and clapped Jughead affectionately around the side of the neck and pulled him in close. "You promise you'll look after my boy?"

"Always." I promised.

He nodded in solid approval and moved his arms around so that his son faced him through the bars of his cell. A serious look crossed his features and he was no longer in a joking mood. "Jughead – you watch your step. I can't cover your back when you get into something you can't get yourself out of." To accentuate his point, he grabbed Jughead's tattooed arm. He winced.

"I'll be fine, Dad."

"No, you won't," FP said slowly. "It changes you – whether you like it or not. Look – my trial starts in the next month. After then, I'll be in jail to rot for however many years, they can't stand to see my face around here. You'll be the man of the house." He pressed his forehead to his sons, starting him squarely in the eyes.

"Stop it Dad, this isn't goodbye." Jug muttered, swatting him away lightly.

"Not forever," he agreed. "But for a while, soon. I'm sure Sir Keller out there, will give you the details if you wanna come and support your old Dad."

"Of course," Jug nodded. "We'll be there." He glanced back towards me for support. Judging by the lost look in his gaze, I knew instantaneously that there would be no way I would let him go alone to watch his father be taken away.

I smiled and nodded. "Yes."

I had a tough time trying to get the look of FP's gaunt, tired face out of my mind for the next few weeks as the days blurred into bursts of intermitted colours and faces. My brain in itself was exhausted with sleepless nights and strained conversations with Jughead, as he desperately tried to fit me into his busy schedule with the Serpent's constantly commanding his attention outside of school. I was emotional but emotionless at the same time; not quite concentrating on classes or new topics that arose. I caught myself looking over my shoulder in paranoia as I travelled to and from school everyday - even Chic hadn't replied to a panicked voicemail I made in a moment of blind panic at 3am, desperate to know if he had any more news. The silence was deafening, killing me inside like an old, rotten apple.

As promised, Jughead had filled me in on my mother's previous fleeting relationship with Fred Andrews after she first moved to the North side, from the South. As a family, it was customary that we ate breakfast together every morning as a way of 'setting ourselves up for the day ahead'. As my mother, father and Polly ate together in gratuitous harmony every morning; I ate in silence, nails pinching into the palms of my flesh. I wondered what other lies or false truths, I was living in?

I had hoped after Jason's death, things in Riverdale would only have to improve. Clearly, I was naive and wrong.

Stupid Betty.

"Betty?"

I glanced up to see a curious-looking Reggie staring back, seated in the stool next to me in our Biology places. Behind us, I could sense Veronica and Josie's eyes boring into our backs at the quiet exchange. At once, the sounds of the class milling around, slammed into me like a wave. I smiled encouragingly at Reggie, who'd strewn out our combined project notes before us.

"Are… You okay?" He ventured cautiously. "You're as pale as a ghost."

"I was just reading through your footnotes here," I garbled and prodded the nearest sheet of wording, with his childlike scribbles across it. "Did you realise that the Cardiovascular system is completely different to the Respiratory system?"

"Of course," he nodded, grinning widely. "Or else this whole project would be completely screwed. You're making excuses." Cocking his head, he lowered his voice so that Veronica and Josie would return to their work and give up eavesdropping. Ignoring his question, I cleared my throat and began sorting out notes into an order that would actually make logical sense. Next to me, I could feel his eyes burning into my skull as he awaited an answer to his accusation.

"What do you want?" I snapped harder than intended. Not at all perturbed by my hostile tone, he smiled.

"What's up, Betty? We've been sat here for 45 minutes and you've barely contributed anything to this masterpiece we're working on." He gestured to our hasty scribbles and clutched his chest his mock horror. I couldn't help but let a giggle escape my downturned mouth at the dramatics.

"She laughs!" He whispered triumphantly. "Does that mean the next step; is getting you to confess whatever has got you all riled up?"

"You'll be lucky," I snorted. "I'm going to have to ask you to actually write in coherent sentences next time. Do you see this? Where's the punctuation?" I pushed the project plan over to him as he rolled his eyes.

"Shooting me where it hurts! My English skills!" He laughed airily, before suddenly realising the terribly timed joke he'd just made. He eyed Archie across the lab, ensuring the red headed now-apologetic-menace, hadn't caught wind of the terrible choice in wording. Satsified with his close escape, he leaned back into his stool further.

"Before you potentially offend anyone else," I began. "To confirm for your annoying curiosity – I'm fine. It's just been a tough few months."

He nodded, surprisingly understanding. "Haven't seen Jones sulking around lately. Are you guys okay?"

"He's busy," I tried my best to smile nonchalantly. Like a normal girlfriend, who knew her boyfriend was safe, would. It was a part I was beginning to play well and had many well-practiced phrases to utilise at a moment's notice. The truth was sore – it was now Friday afternoon and Jughead and I hadn't spoken since Tuesday morning, when he called me before he headed into school.

Slightly proud of myself, I'd resisted the urge to plague his phone with calls and texts – demanding to know if he was okay and safe, what was going down with the Serpents, etc. I trusted Jughead more than I'd ever done so, with anyone else before. He would contact me to speak properly, if he had a moment to spare.

Sitting down at our usual lunch table, it was still odd to see Archie electing to sit down with us, instead of slouching off in his own. The smile on his face was empty – but the permanent scent of alcohol on his breath, was at last gone. It was a step in the right direction.

After the initial awkwardness between him and Veronica, they again found themselves sitting side by side and joking about a television program they'd caught, the night before. Beside Archie, Reggie toyed with his chicken salad, staring in morbid curiosity at Cheryl across from him, staring in her hand-held mirror for the past 15 minutes.

"Betty – be honest with me," she moaned, tugging on my arm. "Am I getting crows feet at the corners of my eyes?" Her face fell seriously and she regarded me with such a deadpan expression, I was concerned I would burst out laughing at her.

"No crows feet here," I confirmed. "Skin as flawless as usual."

"Well, I have a very extreme skincare regime that involves no frowning or grimacing of any kind." She winked, satisfied with my answer. "Reggie – you could do with some of my cream."

"And ruin this beauty?" He choked on a mouthful of chicken and lettuce. "Football is my secret, for staying young." He turned to Archie and exchanged an enthusiastic high five. Flanking my other side, Kevin and I locked gazes and rolled our eyes simultaneously.

Ronnie outstretched her hands, snaking around the sides of my cola and fries, grinning. "It's Friday night B, what are ya up to?"

Well Veronica, I was looking forward to going home to sit in my bedroom and stare at my phone, hoping my boyfriend would decide to give me a call.

"Nothing," I smiled widely. "But why do I get the feeling that you've got an idea?"

She mustered a shocked face and winked. "Why Betty, how perceptive of you! I do indeed have an idea that you might dig. I was talking to one of the other Vixens the other day, and she happened to mention about this hot new night club – just opened up on the border," pausing for effect as the table fell silent to listen in on the conversation. After rummaging around in her designer purse, she pulled out a handful of coloured papers. "Annnnnd… I so happen to have tickets for this evening – courtesy of some very helpful friends."

"Night club?" Cheryl shrugged. "Count me in. I cannot take another Friday night, stuck in the apartment with my grumpy mother."

"Well, you did burn down her whole house. Along with everything she's ever owned, in it." Kevin dared to mutter, staring incredulously around the table.

"I did her a favour." Cheryl insisted, with every ounce of confidence that she possessed.

"Count me in too." Reggie shrugged quickly, defusing the situation before it could escalate any further. After a moment of hesitation, Kevin sighed and nodded along in agreement with him as well.

Archie paused for a moment, looking as if he was seriously weighing up the pros and cons. A few moments later, he grinned and took one of the tickets from Veronica's outstretched hands. Her dark eyes moved across to me, expectant and hopeful.

"You're coming too, right B?" She looked so sincere and kind, that I struggled to find a good enough excuse that she would openly accept. I nodded slowly as a breezy smile stretched out across her delicate features, her smile landing on Archie. I didn't miss the electricity that slowly ignited between the both of them once more, threatening to once again open a door they both closed months ago.

I wanted to desperately grab Ronnie and force her attention onto me – that Archie wasn't all he seemed. That he, has his own mission to try and find any evidence that would implicate her father – or the snakes, in connection with the death of his own father. I love them both like my own family and I didn't want to see either fall into the depths of despair and heart break once again.

As promised, I obediently left school and went home to have a shower, mostly to wash off the difficult week behind me in the midst of scaling hot water. Emerging from the bathroom, feeling very pink – I checked my phone to find a brief message from Jughead; All going well, I'm earning some trust and gaining ground. I'll swing by your house this weekend and take you out for dinner – mostly to apologise for being AWOL so much. To prove my loyalty and love for you, I'll even pay and let you order as many of those horrible Kiwi milkshakes, as many as you want. That's how much I love you.

A soft smile played across my lips as I reread the message a couple of times more, before tossing the phone back onto the bed. Relief swept up inside like a breeze of warm air. My heartbeat began to slow down for the first time in days and renewed me. I was still in awe at how he could unknowingly, influence my mood with a few short words, or looks.

I was in love, and nothing could touch me.

Ronnie and Cheryl honked from the car outside, signalling that it was time for us to leave for the club. Having already straightened my hair, I pulled on a navy sequin dress and hurried downstairs to say a stiff goodbye to my parents and a wistful looking Polly – and flung myself into the awaiting car in the street.

"There's my girl," Ronnie grinned from the driver's seat. "Damn B, you look great!" I blushed a little at the compliment and brushed it off. She sported a long, black glittery dress with bright red lips and heels whilst Cheryl had elected to go for a dark purple trouser suit and had even curled her hair for the occasion. It was strange, yet wonderful to see Cheryl so comfortable around us, after hiding behind hostility for so long. As weird as it was to admit, she also had done herself a massive favour – for burning down her own gothic prison and setting herself free, like a red phoenix

Ronnie pulled out into the road and began to navigate the windy, tree lined streets of my area and into the main town. As discussed earlier in the day, she really wasn't joking when she mentioned that the club sat just beyond the border into the South Side. With a heart-stricken moment, I imagined the whole gang running into Jughead and his newly found-snake buddies on the dance floor. In the next moment, I chided myself for being so ridiculous – clubs were definitely not Jughead Jones's scene, as much as they were mine. But yet, here I was.

Inside, the club heaved with heavy tones and bass that were loud enough to pressurise my ears. As Ronnie guided me towards the dancefloor, I could feel my own heartbeat move along to the thrum of the beat itself, leaving me wondering what would happen if I were to suddenly go into cardiac arrest in the middle of a rave.

Our small group scattered onto the dancefloor and to also go and get drinks from the bar. Even in the neon lights of the strobes, bouncing from the walls – I could make out the figure of Reggie expertly weaving through the crowd towards me, various drinks in hand. He said something and smiled, totally lost to the drum and bass.

I gestured and leaned forwards so he could repeat it louder; "Pick whatever you want, Betty." He held up the assortment of drinks. I gingerly decided to take a tall glass of what smelled strongly of vodka. Beside me, Kevin moved around to grab another beverage and raised his eyebrows at my choice of poison.

"Wow, cocktails Betty? We've only just arrived!" He laughed good naturedly and patted me on the back.

Leaning into his ear, I laughed and said; "I honestly have no idea. I've never been clubbing before." I silently thanked the hues of flashing lights above, for masking my embarrassment and anxiety. I was very sure that I didn't belong along amongst the scores of neon-clad dancers as they moved in time along with the music. Kevin sighed soundlessly and motioned for me to down the drink in my hand. Gingerly, I lifted the rim to my lips to keep him happy and let the burning liquid slide down my throat.

He grinned, ear to ear. "There you go! You deserve you let your hair down a bit, Betts. Especially what you're going through now." He paused, an all-knowing look crossed his face and I realised at once, he knew exactly what he was referring to. It would have made perfect sense – considering his affiliation to Joaquin and his inside knowledge. Of course, his boyfriend would let him know of Jughead's latest movements.

Seeing the stricken look cross my face, he leaned into my ear. "We've been friends forever, Betts. I won't be telling anyone, anytime soon." He held up his pinkie finger in promise and downed his own beverage in one mouthful. Whether it was the alcohol, or the sudden realisation that I had someone on the North side, that I could confide in about my current predicament – I threw my head back and giggled. The sound was swallowed up at once by the music, but I could feel the happiness stream down to the tips of my fingers and toes – outstretching my limbs as my friends and I decided that we were drunk enough, after a few more drinks – to actually start attempting to dance.

With confirmation to my mother, that I would be staying with Veronica tonight – I was free to not be held up by the early hours of the morning. Betty Cooper was letting herself go for once. With each passing moment, I felt myself slip out of my own skin and glide across the dancefloor, with my closest friends, plus Reggie and Cheryl additionally. For a few hours, I ghosted my own skin and allowed myself to flow free without rules, without worry and without normal old Betty.

"I'm going to the bathroom." I mouthed to Veronica just before she turned on her heels and latched onto Archie. Sensing that this would be a bad time to strike up my 'you can't trust Archie' conversation, I turned towards the direction of the ladies' room symbol and began to dodge the heaving bodies around me.

Finally breaking out into a small clearing, devoid of people – I managed to lightly collide with a man holding a beer can, leaning against the wall next to the ladies' bathroom. At once, I gabbled an apology and double checked that nothing had spilled out of the can and landed on either of us.

He held up his hand, laden with various rings and tattoos. "It's okay, no harm done." He took another long drag of his beer and nodded in approval that my mistake was fine. As his jacket shifted up his arm, I could make out old ink lines of the same intricate snake tattoo, that now adorned Jughead's forearm. My eyes moved automatically to his leather jacket – where I was almost one hundred percent sure, that there would be a similar Serpent printed across the back of it.

Pausing to follow my eyes, his brow furrowed along with the stubble of his jawbone. "I'm sorry – do we…?"

"No, no we don't," I apologised. "I'm sorry – I'm a little bit drunk." Finishing my sentence with an airy laugh that sounded more like a cackle, I began to move my eyes to the floor and scuttle off to the bathroom. He moved out of the way to allow me to go through.

"The name's Dust," he announced boldly. "And you?"

"Betty, Betty Cooper. It's nice to meet you, Dust."

He nodded. "And you. Have a good night, Betty Cooper." Draining the rest of his beer can, he tossed it expertly into the trash behind the bar and began to wind his way back through the crowd. As I guessed, there was a Serpent glaring back at me – enhanced and warped by the neon lights bouncing off the back of his jacket.

Escaping into the bathroom, I silently congratulated myself for not suddenly blurting out Jughead's name and asking how he was doing in the gang. Jughead risked a huge amount, for joining the Serpents and if nothing else, I wanted to ensure that I could do everything possible to make sure his cover wasn't blown. Especially by his stupid, drunk girlfriend.

Placing my hands in the sink, I splashed handfuls of water onto my rosy cheeks as I began to feel cooler. The entrance swung open to reveal a worried-looking Veronica in the doorway. She caught side of me and gasped, catching her breath. Thankfully, we seemed to be alone in the bathroom and away from prying eyes. As the door swung shut, as did the sounds of drum and bass – suddenly dulling into a quiet thrumming.

"Ron, what's wrong?" I rushed forwards to her, placing my hands on her shoulders.

"It's Archie," she hissed. "One second – we were dancing and then the next – he was rushing off into the crowd, yelling loudly. He caught sight of a random Serpent leaving the club and suddenly," she threw her arms up into the air. "I don't even know Betty, he totally flipped and went after this guy."

My heart hammered softly in my ribcage as I digested the information. "And he's just… Gone after him?"

Ronnie nodded, tears pooling at the sides of her eyes. She angrily rubbed them away before they had a chance to cascade down her cheeks. "He's obviously not getting any better, B. We need to leave – now. That moron's going to get himself hurt… What if the Serpent guy doesn't take too kindly, to being followed?"

Biting my lip, I nodded. "I think I just met him."