Water washed up through the hole onto the ice they stood on.

No one cared much about getting wet. Their veins were running too hot, too fast, full of adrenaline. Despite the numbing feeling in his hands, Archie reached in first, without hesitation. His hands gripped onto body and he pulled. Sweet Pea reached out, grabbing onto Cheryl to help Archie pull her above ice. They got her up onto the ice and Betty and Veronica hurried over to tend to her. Not a second passed before Sweet Pea was back at the hole.

She had to be there. Diana had to be there somewhere. But it was impossible to see through the film of the near black water. It seemed there was only one course of action to take and, without hesitation, he took it. He sat back to shrug off his jacket, and Jughead was immediately alarmed by this action. "Whoa, wait—what are you doing?" Jughead questioned, somewhat panicked.

"Someone has to go down to get her," Sweet Pea answered, before using the side of his fist to break more of the ice around the hole. "I'm not leaving her down there, Jones."

It was the world's worst idea. But Jughead, too, had no other options. So when Sweet Pea looked up at him one last time, Jughead gave a single nod of approval. Then Sweet Pea slipped beneath the crackling ice, into the freezing water below. "What is he doing?!" Betty practically shrieked, eyes wide, holding a breathing but unconscious Cheryl Blossom in her lap just feet away.

"Archie, your hands," Veronica noticed the red color of the hands Archie still used, unwavering in his effort to keep helping despite the pain. Jughead looked down at her words. He, too, saw the raw and red look of his best friend's hands and knew nothing good could come of it. But it was too late to change it at that point.

To pacify the worry threatening to swallow him alive, Jughead moved to the widened hole in the ice and knelt—watching, waiting. Not a second passed and there was movement. It was a quick motion beneath the water like the dash of a shadow. Moments passed and Sweet Pea's head broke the surface, sucking in an ice cold breath with an unconscious Diana slumped against his right shoulder. "I found her!" Sweet Pea had said, immediately after surfacing.

"Thank goodness," Jughead sighed with relief, but still he trembled with worry. He reached out and grabbed Diana's shoulders, and began to pull. "Hey, Arch—little help?"

With the mention of his name, Archie twisted, noticing the scene behind him. He was moving almost instantly upon seeing Diana's soaked form, quick to grab onto her as well. Together, Jughead and Archie pulled her from the water, up onto the ice. They laid her down on the snow and Archie put his ear close to her chest to listen for a heartbeat, just in case. There was nothing. Jughead helped Sweet Pea out of the water.

Soaking wet and shivering from his polar plunge, Sweet Pea crawled the three feet across the snow and ice to get to Diana's side. "She's not breathing," Archie quickly shook his head. It was to be expected, the lack of movement from the girl. After all, she'd just spent almost three minutes under. Her skin was as cold as the ice that froze her. There were two reactions to this scenario.

Reaction one was to shut down. To panic. To be utterly unable to function with the reality of the situation finally setting in. Reaction two was to act. Finally, Archie was falling into reaction one. His mind had run on pure adrenaline up until this point. But now he felt weak. The pain finally throbbing into his hands. Sweet Pea, on the other hand, was nowhere near reaction one. He was stuck in reaction two.

His hands stacked on the center of her chest, he started compressions. Pressing his hands downward in that singular position in rhythmic thrusts. Not many people would assume someone like Sweet Pea knew CPR. But he didn't need to pay attention in health class to know what to do when someone stopped breathing. It was all over Diana's favorite show—Grey's Anatomy. She'd watched it a number of times at his trailer.

He didn't remember watching enough to know this—usually he slept through whatever she decided to watch—but, in that dire moment, it was instinctual. All eyes looked on in a premature state of grief with Diana's lack of response. Even with plugging her nose, blowing air into her lungs, and continuing to pump her chest cavity. There was nothing. But Sweet Pea wasn't about to stop. It was the unthinkable. After being forced apart, attempted suicide—to lose her now, he would never recover.

Tears streamed Veronica's cheeks as she finally turned away, unable to keep watching. And then it happened. In a sudden convulsion, water surged up through Diana's throat and out in a coughing fit of sputters. A wave of relief washed over all. But there was still plenty to keep them worried. Sweet Pea turned Diana onto her side as she coughed up all the water she'd swallowed, her palms bracing the ice. The ragged breaths filling her chest cavity felt like knives against the soft tissue of her lungs.

"My jacket," Sweet Pea said, pointing to the space of snow just past Jughead. Jughead reacted almost instantly, bending to grab the jacket, then tossing it to Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea wrapped his jacket around her frame and scooped her up easily, hefting her into his arms as he stood. Her half conscious mind could not yet comprehend everything. But she knew how cold she'd felt. Her shivering fingers gripped the soaked fabric of his shirt, desperate still to anchor herself to something.

Even on land, it'd felt like she was still moving. Like she was still being carried away. The cold was starting to become painful, but Sweet Pea only clenched his jaw to ride it out. There was still too much to do. "We need to get them somewhere dry," Jughead stated, as Archie moved to pick up Cheryl's still unconscious body.

"My apartment's closest," Veronica piped up, trying to pull herself together enough to function properly. "We can take them there."


I was positioned in front of the large fireplace in Veronica's apartment. Sat between Sweet Pea's outstretched legs, my back flush with his chest, and his arms draped around me like the soft blanket that hung from my shoulders. His embrace was an added warmth that caused me to sigh in contentment, my head dropping back onto his shoulder. As far as I knew, Cheryl was still sleeping on the couch a few feet behind us. But at least she was alive.

Did I regret going out onto the ice to stop her? No. Not really. How could I? Cheryl, though sometimes doesn't act like it, was actually a good person. And she was my close friend. I wasn't going to let her make the same mistake I did and, in my stubbornness, I saved her with my own mishap. But it wasn't really me. It was Archie, Jughead, Veronica, Betty, and Sweet Pea. It was the real heroes of Riverdale. I was just yet another victim in someone else's wasted privilege.

My eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of soft lips against the skin of my neck—Sweet Pea placing warm kisses in the space I'd so bravely left unprotected. Each sense had slowly been coming back to life as the minutes had passed. Even alive, they were numb. But as I heated, they regained feeling, and I felt a little more like myself. "Feeling better?" Sweet Pea's hushed voice was muffled against my neck.

"Much. The vicodin Veronica gave me is really starting to settle in."

I felt him exhale with nearly my entire body. But it wasn't the good kind. It was the regretful kind. When we'd first arrived at Veronica's apartment, Sweet Pea sat me down on the couch, and I almost cried. The sharp pain in my sides was the only thing I could feel with the rest of my body being so numb. Jughead immediately went into accusatory mode, saying that Sweet Pea broke me on the way here.

Archie told Jughead that was ridiculous. Betty told Archie and Jughead there was no need to argue over it. Sweet Pea threatened to deck both Archie and Jughead. All the while I was holding my sides and groaning, with Veronica rubbing my back soothingly and googling my symptoms on her iPhone. It turned out the pain was normal for someone that had been given CPR. Most likely, I at least had some bruised ribs. It was a genuine medical explanation.

But Jughead was still uneasy. I could tell it was all in his head—just overflow from the anxiety of the situation we'd all just been in. I'd had it the least. The worst of it was happening to those above the ice. Jughead would still be here—but I'd convinced him he would be better suited going to tell dad what happened before heading to the Jubilee for Betty's speech. "I'm really sorry, baby," Sweet Pea breathed, his chin on my shoulder now.

"There's no way it could have been avoided," I tried to assure him, speaking softly as I sat up a bit against his chest. "It wasn't your fault, Pea."

With the sudden sound of clicking heels, my head turned toward it, just as Veronica was stepping into the living area from the left. "Hey...um, I just wanted to see if you guys needed anything?" Veronica asked, stopping her stride just before the area rug. She'd been in mother-mode since we got here. But I couldn't really complain. "More blankets, something to eat—hot chocolate?"

"Thanks, V, but I think we're okay," I smiled a little up at her.

She nodded once and stepped over to the couch, out of my line of sight. Most likely to check on Cheryl. After a moment, Veronica started for the door again. But she stopped short, phone in hand, eyes glued to the screen. It caused for pause. And then she groaned, followed by a muffled swear word. My eyebrows rose on my forehead as I turned my head to see her. "Wow, Ronnie. I'm impressed," I commented, sarcasm coming back to me in full swing.

Veronica sighed, lowering her phone as she stepped to the edge of the rug. "My mom's coming home. She'll be here in fifteen minutes."

"It's okay. I should be getting back to the trailer anyway," I assured her.

I peeled myself from Sweet Pea to sit up straight, almost immediately feeling a dull ache in my sides. With all that transpired between FP and Hermione Lodge, it would not be a good idea to still be here when she got home—especially not with Sweet Pea here, too. It would only make matters worse. So I pushed myself forward onto my knees, the blanket falling to the rug off my shoulders, and I started to get up to stand.

My lower lip was sucked in between my teeth to keep myself from making a pain induced sound as I moved. "Babe, hold on," Sweet Pea quickly climbed to his feet, and he held onto my waist as I finished standing to keep me upright. "You've gotta be careful. Don't move too fast."

"Sweets, I'm not gonna break," I gave him a look, but a smile pulled up the right side of my mouth.

"Right, because you already did that," Veronica quipped, grinning.

Sighing heavily, I shook my head slowly. "Young whipper-snappers. Think they know everything."

To walk comfortably, I hunched slightly, and it only added to the effect of my purposely withered tone. I'd made it out of the apartment just fine. Veronica had told me she would take care of Cheryl and make sure she got home, and I thanked her—giving her a hug before leaving. Being friends Veronica was proving to be better than being enemies. Of course, Veronica never hated me. That hatred was one sided. But it was better now that it was over.


Jughead had asked for the trailer the night of the Jubilee. It wasn't hard to clear out for the night, considering Sweet Pea was more than happy to have me and Cash over at his trailer. So I hadn't asked questions. I mean, it was easy enough to assume what exactly Jughead wanted the trailer for.

High on another set of pain pills, I got Cash situated on the couch with her blanket and pillow. She snuggled in with her stuffed unicorn and Killer hopped up on the couch to lay at her feet in a ball. "Goodnight, Cash," I smiled down at her. "Remember—if you need anything, I'm right in there."

I pointed to the bedroom door for emphasis, to make sure she got it. But she understood most things better than me anyway. "Got it. Goodnight!" she nodded once, smiling back at me. Carefully, as not to tweak my middle, I got to my feet and bent to place a kiss on her small forehead.

"Hey, you all tucked in?"

Sweet Pea stepped up beside me, looking down at Cash with a loose smile. I folded my arms over my chest as I listened to their banter. "Yep!" she beamed, snuggling deeper into the cushion as she squeezed the stuffed unicorn to her chest. "Your couch is better than mine. Mine has a spring loose, but Jughead says it gives the couch character. Whatever that means."

He knelt then to be closer to her level. "That means he's cheap. Does this guy have a name?"

Cash wrinkled her nose as Sweet Pea poked the head of her stuffed unicorn. "It's a she! And her name is Butter," she corrected him, keeping her chin held high as she carefully placed the unicorn in the space between her body and the back cushion, tucking it in alongside her.

"Oh, my apologies," Sweet Pea was obviously hiding a snicker.

"Okay, time for bed," I grabbed his upper arm and tugged.

He stood, chuckling, "Goodnight, Cash."

"Goodnight, Sweet Pea!"

Her response was bright, bubbly. The exact opposite of her attitude of offense to his misgendering her unicorn just moments ago. I pulled Sweet Pea along behind me by the wrist, turning off the main light switch near the door on the way into the bedroom. It was Sweet Pea's idea to leave the bedroom door cracked in case Cash needed something. "I feel like I'm the unwanted step-dad trying to win over my new wife's child," he commented, in a hushed tone, as he started for the bed.

Already in my pajamas—my underwear and one of Sweet Pea's Serpent t-shirts—I eased myself into my side of the bed. "Step-dad scenario, maybe. But she really does like you," I assured him, turning onto my right side to face him. "She's very particular about everything, but she's easy, in all reality. All you have to do is do what I do. Maybe you could ask Jughead for some tips?"

Sweet Pea snorted, literally dropping into bed. "Yeah, sure. I'll do that."

He tossed his shirt off the side of the bed before sliding beneath the blanket, sidling up to me on the far left side of the bed. The lamp on the nightstand cast soft shadows across his features. I readjusted my head on the pillow a little. "I almost died today...actually, I did die today—for a little while," it was spoken in a kind of sober reflection, with a hushed voice. But my eyes remained on his. "I didn't think anyone would bring me back to life once. But you did it twice."

"Because I love you," he replied, without hesitation. "You're my family, Diana—not just because you're a Serpent."

"You're my family, too."

I reached up to slide my hand onto his cheek, the tips of my fingers gingerly brushing across the skin of his face. "When I found you in your bathroom, I almost lost my mind. It was complete helplessness—there was nothing I could do but watch you die. But at the river, I didn't stop until you woke up. It was like..." he trailed off his sentence, shaking his head at his thoughts.

My eyebrows drew together in curiosity, as I shifted to pull my free arm up and fold it beneath my head. "Like what?"

"Like I already knew you were going to come back to me," he eyes settled on mine with a certain softness, but full of certainty.

The hand that had found a place to rest on his cheek then slid up into his hair as his arm wrapped around my waist. I wouldn't be the first to admit that statement seemed too cliched to be true. But it made my heart flutter to think about. To think about forever. To think about that kind of certainty. Maybe he did know I was going to come back? Maybe he didn't? No one would ever know. Regardless, my hand moved to the back of his neck.

I pulled him toward me as I leaned forward, and his soft lips mingled with mine. His hand had moved to grip my hip, just below the hem of my t-shirt, and his skin felt like fire against mine. Goose bumps rushed up my arms in a rolling wave. Then his hand moved lower, following the line of my body, along the back of my thigh to my knee. Pulling the back of my knee up to hook on his hip as he pushed forward—keeping me against him in a recline into the pillows.

My heart was threatening to beat through my sore rib cage with a racing pulse to match, out of breath even as our tongues twisted. It was deep, passionate, and full of lust. But it was wet and sloppy and quick. His hands were on my body and mine were locked tightly in his black locks, probably a little too tightly. But neither of us had any complaints. "I love you," I managed to breathe out the words in a moment that I could pull away.

His big, brown eyes were about to melt mine with intensity, inches from my face, "I love you, too."


I slept with my back against Sweet Pea's chest, tucked in a cocoon of safety with his strong arms around me, his chin at the top of my head. It was a peaceful, blissful sleep. The deepest sleep I'd had in many nights. Probably because of the distress falling through the ice put my body in. It was still trying to recover from it all. And, honestly, so was my mind. I'd been dead twice now. It was the scariest thing I'd ever experienced.

Not because I was afraid to die. Because both times, I didn't see a light or feel warmth. It was cold and dark and I was completely alone. It wasn't like sleeping. There was a certain thickness to the dark, a certain emptiness to the space. And it was terrifying. Though, I would never dare speak those words aloud. Feeling Sweet Pea sigh against my back pulled me from my thoughts. But it was followed quickly by a familiar buzz. My cell phone on the nightstand.

Groaning against the tweak in my side, I reached across the space and quickly snatched the buzzing device. "Really? This again?" Sweet Pea grumbled, as I pulled the phone back to the bed with me, back into his arms. "What is it this time? Timmy fell down a well?"

I hushed him, huffing a chuckle, before pressing the green answer button. "Hey, Jug. Didn't think you'd be up—what with your reservation and all," I smirked a little, the action spilling into my voice. But the response I got wasn't at all what I'd expected. It was the exact opposite.

"Diana, you need to get to the hospital. Archie's dad was shot at Pop's this morning," his voice was anxious, speaking quickly.

At the mention of the incident, I'd instinctively sat up, breaking free from Sweet Pea's grasp only with my element of surprise, and slid off the bed. "Well, is he okay? Is he going to make it?"

"I don't know how bad it is, I just got here. But you need to hurry—Archie's a mess. We need you."

"I'll be there in ten."

I hung up the phone and my eyes shot to the floor, looking for where I'd put my jeans. "What's going on?" Sweet Pea asked, squinting hard against the light from the window behind me, being blinded while trying to look at me. He sounded more awake than I'd felt. But I pushed through the grogginess, retrieving my jeans and pulling them on as I spoke.

"My friend's dad was shot at Pop's," I explained—sort of. "I have to get to the hospital. You know, moral support and all. This guy's been more of a father figure for me than Ben."

Sweet Pea rolled over, away from me, and rifled with the wadded up pair of jeans on the floor on his side of the bed. With the opportunity, I quickly swapped shirts, and pulled a hoodie on before my Serpent jacket. A moment later, when Sweet Pea rolled back over to face me, he held a set of keys out to me. "Take my bike," he offered, in all seriousness.

I'd had a second's hesitation. But I walked around the end of the bed, and took the keys from his hand as I did. "What about Cash?"

"I'll watch her until you get back," he answered, as I neared him.

"Thank you," I said, genuinely, before leaning in. I braced against the edge of the bed, kissing his lips. He kissed me back instantly, but I had to pull away quickly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he smiled softly at me.

It pulled at the corners of my lips. But I needed to go. So I did. I hurried through the trailer—careful not to wake Cash—and slipped out the door. I'd been on a bike many times as of late. Though, every time I'd been on one, It'd been with someone else driving. I didn't have a license, either. Oh well. I trotted down the steps and across the grass to Sweet Pea's motorcycle. Swinging my leg over, I straddled the seat, and slid the key into the ignition.

Starting a motorcycle might be hard if you've never seen it done before. But, for me, it was like second nature. It roared to life beneath me in a matter of seconds. And then I was off to the hospital.