Once they arrived at the police station, Archie's crew and the Serpents were led inside to a holding cell. The Gargoyles were ushered down a hallway to a different cell. Each boy was called out one at a time to call his parents.
"Munroe, make your call." Mad Dog got up and walked out to the desk. Archie watched his friend dial a number, hold the handset to his ear, and wait. When he finally started talking, he spoke only a few quiet words before he cringed and held the phone away from his ear for a moment. He spoke a few more words before hanging up. The boy looked defeated. He slouched back into the cell and sat down next to Archie.
"Jinx, you're up," a deputy called.
"How'd it go?" Archie asked quietly.
"My grandmother said she's gonna tan my hide," the boy frowned.
"Hmmm, I am definitely in for another whipping too."
"Another?" Mad Dog looked confused.
"Yeah, that's what the Serpent meeting was about. Mr. Jones had promised the Serpents whippings if they went after the Gargoyles again."
"Man.…"
"My dad's gonna lose it when I tell him," the redhead murmured.
Jughead nodded, leaning forward and said, "Look after Jellybean for me, Archie. My dad is going to chop me up and feed to Hot Dog."
"Hot Dog?" Mad Dog asked.
"My dog."
The boys sat in solemn quiet.
Finally, a voice rang out, "Archie Andrews, come make your call."
"Good luck," Mad Dog whispered.
The boy walked to the desk, picked up the phone and dialed his home number. His dad answered on the second ring, "Hello?"
"Uh, Dad, hi, um… Um, I'm in jail."
The was a sharp intake of air, but otherwise Fred remained silent.
"Mr. Jones picked me and a bunch of guys up after we, um, fought the Gargoyles," the teen said.
"Goddammit, Archie, I told you to stay away from them. Why don't you listen? What do I have to do?"
"I'm sorry, Dad."
"Oh, you will be. Very. …Is FP nearby?"
"Yessir."
"I want to talk to him. Put him on."
"Ok. …Uh, Mr. Jones, my dad would like to talk to you."
FP walked over and took the phone.
"Fred. I know. I am disgusted with these boys. …Uh-huh. …Yeah. Totally agree. ...Yes, that sounds like a good plan. …Sure. Yep, he's still right here." The Sheriff held the phone out to the boy.
"Dad?"
"Ok, son, get comfortable for tonight. I will pick you up in the morning. Goodbye."
"Bye." He headed back to the cell.
"And…?" Mad Dog asked after the boy sat in silence for a few minutes.
"He was so pissed. Said I'd be spending the night here."
"Man," Jughead muttered.
Mad Dog nodded. "The waiting game is the worst game. Sorry, bro."
A distance voice called, "Jughead Jones, you're up."
The boys looked at one another, mystified.
Jughead walked to the desk where his father stood. "Uh, Dad?"
"Make your call."
"Um, …you want me to call you?"
FP sighed and lowered the file he was reading. "Call your mother, son."
"Oh, sure, of course." Jughead picked up phone and dialed.
Finally, on the fifth ring, his mother snapped, "Yeah?"
"Mom, I am at the jail."
"What do you mean, 'at the jail'? You mean you're visiting your father or you mean you got arrested?"
"Uh, I don't think we technically have been arrested, but closer to that one. Dad told me to call you."
"I see," Gladys said sternly. "What did you do?"
"Fighting."
"Fighting? Who were you fighting?"
"I think you already know," Jughead nearly hissed.
"Boy, watch your tone. I will come up there and embarrass you in front of everyone. Do you want that?"
Jughead clenched his jaw and imagined responding, "What a stupid question!"
Instead, he quickly replied, "No…. No. Sorry."
"Ok, then. When you get home, I promise you this: if your father doesn't tear you up, I will."
"…Uh. …Wait, you're not coming get me?"
"Hell no. Enjoy your night in the clink." Click, dial tone.
Jughead turned to walk back to the cell, but his father stopped him.
"What did your mother say, boy?"
"Mom's not going to come get me. Said I can spend the night here."
FP smiled and nodded. "Sounds good. Head on back then."
Jug returned to the cell and sat by his friends.
"Going to be a long night," he said. "My mom's not coming to get me either."
"You're lucky," Sweet Pea said from across the cell. "I would rather stay."
Quiet settled over the boys again as they each got lost in their thoughts.
Within the hour, parents began arriving to collect their sons. Fangs's father took him by the scruff of the neck and led him out of the station. Sweet Pea watched the door nervously and stood as soon as he saw his father enter. The tall, muscular man held a belt in his hand. He scanned the room, spotted the cell, and walked purposely toward it. FP intercepted Rhino and stood talking with him for a long time. Sweet Pea stood like a statue, pale and sweaty. Jughead moved to stand next to his friend.
"Look, my dad's talking to him to get him to calm down."
"It won't work," the teen whispered.
"My dad knows what it's like, you know," Jug lowered his voice. "He's gonna look out for you."
As the boys stood watching, the men continued talking until Rhino fed the belt back through the loops of his jeans. FP thumped the other man's arm encouragingly and called for the deputy to release Sweet Pea.
The boy walked slowly to where his father and the sheriff stood. His friends could hear him quietly apologize. Rhino stared at his son for a moment and nodded.
"Let's go, boy."
"Rhino, I need Sweet Pea back here at 9 AM sharp," FP said. "He has a lot of work to do."
"He'll be here," the man confirmed.
After father and son had walked out, Jughead called, "Dad?"
FP looked at his son and saw his concern. "He'll be ok, Jug. I'll check on him in a bit."
Soon most of the boys had been released to furious, distressed, tired, and/or unconcerned parents. When only Archie and Jughead were left, they each stretched out on the benches, close enough to be able to talk without being overheard.
"Every time I try to imagine how my dad will react, I feel like I am going to throw up," the redhead muttered.
"Yeah. I have never seen my dad this angry before. And I've never been in this much trouble."
"We'll be grounded until we graduate."
"From college," Jug added.
They laughed softly.
"Your dad gonna whip you again?" Archie asked.
"Definitely. At the apartment… that was just a warmup. My mom said she'll 'tear me up' if my dad doesn't. Seems funny now that I missed her when she was gone," the boy joked.
Archie chuckled. The boys continued whispering. They swapped stories from their childhoods, talked about girls, and imagined the future. Finally FP told them to pipe down and get some sleep.
After a restless night, the boys sat, bleary-eyed, drinking thin coffee and eating stale donuts. The station was quiet except for the occasional deputy radioing a report to FP, the only officer in the building.
At 7:30, Fred arrived, looking calm but determined. He and FP sat drinking coffee, chatting congenially, letting the boys stew.
"What do you think they're talking about?" Archie whispered.
"Probably immigration," Jug replied dryly.
"Hey, you remember when we got sent to the principal's office in middle school and you couldn't stop cracking jokes? And we got in even more trouble for laughing?"
"Yeah."
"Don't do that now. Ok? I'm already ready to puke. I don't want to start laughing and make everything a bazillion times worse. Ok?"
"Sure, sure. But it's just a nervous habit. I'm not trying to be funny," Jughead confessed.
"Quiet. They're coming. Just don't talk, ok?"
The boys stood up, facing their approaching fathers.
The two men stood silently in front of the locked cell.
Finally, FP said, "We could lecture. But what good would that do? Neither one of you listens worth a damn."
"We're running out of options, boys," Fred added tiredly. "Military school? Should I move you to Chicago where your mother can reopen her practice?"
"Or, Jughead, do I send you to your aunt's dairy farm in North Carolina? No drug-dealing gangsters there to fight. You could even learn a trade."
"Cows?" Jug murmured.
"You promised…" whispered Archie.
The boy fell silent again.
"But before we take that kind of extreme action," Fred continued. "We are going to try a new strategy."
FP unlocked the cell and both men entered.
"You see," Fred kept talking. "Corporal punishment has been somewhat effective for you both. But clearly not enough of a deterrent. So from now on, when you are in serious trouble, you're going to answer to both of us."
"You mean," the redhead stammered, "you're both going to spank us?"
"You got it, Red. Now, drop your pants, both of you," FP commanded.
"Here?" Jug croaked.
"Now?" Archie asked.
FP closed his eyes. "Don't make me repeat myself…," he warned.
The boys quickly but reluctantly let their pants fall to their feet and stood waiting.
The Sheriff then stepped forward and grabbed Archie's wrist, "You're up, Red."
The boy looked stunned but said nothing. As soon as FP was seated, he pulled Archie over his lap. The tall boy's arms and legs draped awkwardly.
"No reason to wait, Jughead. Come here," Fred directed. The boy moved to stand next to the man and lowered himself over Fred's lap. He shifted his weight trying to find a somewhat comfortable position.
FP jerked Archie's boxers down, and Fred bared Jughead's rear. Both boys spluttered their objections, but the fathers made no response.
"Now you boys are going to learn," FP said as his brought his hand down sharply on Archie's naked backside.
The boy was shocked at how quickly discomfort began radiating throughout his bottom. I haven't been bent over Dad's lap since I was little. What if the guys find out? I'd rather die. Jug's dad's is spanking me! Hard! Is this how he normally spanks Jug? OW, ow, ow! Are all the Gargoyle's gone? Is Jughead looking? How much longer? I hate all of you so much. I'm running away as soon as I can. I'll live at the gym. Oh, God, Dad's gonna spank me too. Is Jughead crying?
Fred, too, was smacking Jughead's pale rear. The boy tensed as the smacks rained down. One, Jughead counted in his head. Two, ugh. Three. Four. Five, six, seven. Awww, the boy groaned softly. Eight, nine, ten. Fred paused for a moment, giving the teen hope that the punishment was over. Jug could hear Archie grunt as the smacks on bare skin continued rapidly. Eleven, dammit. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Dad, make him stop, the boy begged internally. He lost count as Fred's heavy hand continued to fall.
"That's it," FP said, after he delivered a final wallop.
Archie shot off the man's lap and turned away to pull his pants back into place.
Moments later, when Fred was finished, Jughead pushed himself to a standing position. However, when he bent to pull his jeans up, his father said, "You don't need to do that just yet."
FP took Jughead by his arm, pants falling around his ankles again, and guided the boy to a table just outside of the cell.
"Bend over. Boxers down too," the man stated.
Jughead obeyed, listening to his father's belt being unbuckled and flutter as it was pulled through the loop. He groaned and buried his head in his arms.
Fred brought Archie around table to the far end. "You, too. Bend over, everything down."
"Dad, plea-," the boy pleaded.
Before he could finish the sentence, his father half-sat on the table's edge and snatched his son over his leg.
Fred began spanking the boy fiercely, his hand beating out a rapid rhythm.
Finally, Fred paused and said, "Are you ready to comply now?"
"Yes, yes," the boy answered quickly.
"Good," the man pushed the teen upright.
"Now, everything down and bend over." His father removed his belt as he spoke these words.
Jughead had already received nearly a dozen smacks. He was no longer concerned about being quiet. It simply was impossible. His tears flowed and snuffling sobs racked his body.
By the fourth lick, Archie was crying also.
FP counted the strokes as he administered them. When he reached seventeen, he stopped and put his belt back on. The boy remained in place, audibly weeping.
Archie's whipping continued, his strangled yelps smothered in the crook of arm. After six more blows, his father finally spoke.
"We're done here, boys. Get dressed, go wash your faces and we will meet you in FP's office."
The fathers poured cups of coffee and walked into the office.
The teens redressed, hiccuping and sniffling. Together they trudged to the bathroom. Both boys stood in front of the sinks, splashing cool water on their faces.
"Damn," Archie whispered, catching his breath.
"I know," Jug answered. He bent low over the sink and gulped cold water. The boy stood slowly and groaned, tenderly rubbing his backside.
"Never again, Arch."
"Definitely not. I hope the others are doing better than us."
Jughead nodded. They stiffly walked back to the office where their fathers waited.
Fred sat on a couch in the office, while FP was perched on the edge of his desk. The men stopped talking when they entered. The boys stood quietly, uncertain of what to do or say.
"Well?" FP asked, his voice now calm. "Do you have anything you want to say?"
The teens shifted their feet and glanced at one another.
"Dad," Jughead started. "And Mr. Andrews. I understand why you thought it was necessary to punish me, us. I just want to say that it won't be necessary again. I promise. …And I am so sorry."
"Me too. Sorry that is. I'll focus on school and the gym. And I'll leave the crime fighting to you, Mr. Jones."
"And, you, boy? Will you be going after any more drug dealers?" FP asked.
"No, sir."
"Just to be sure, if I catch you—either of you—cracking skulls or ruining any busts again, I will pull your pants down in front of everyone and spank your bare asses blue. Do you understand me?"
"Yessir," they both replied instantly.
Fred cleared his throat and stood. "I agree. Anymore of this nonsense and I'll make sure today's whippings seem like nothing. Got it?"
"Yessir," the boys repeated.
"Good to hear." FP reached out and tussled Archie's hair before pulling him in for a hug.
Fred took a step toward Jug and opened his arms. The boy ducked his head shyly but stepped forward, accepting the embrace. The urge to cry gripped Jughead suddenly, but he breathed intentionally as Fred held him, rocking and patting.
FP released Archie, but continued to hold his shoulders. "You are doing good work at that gym, Red. I am really proud of you. And, I would like to post a deputy or two there. Make it a substation. Keep Dodger out of your hair and also help my deputies build good relationships with your kids. What do you think?"
Archie's eyes lit up. "Sure that sounds great."
Jughead stepped back and said softly, "Sorry again, Mr. A. You've been so good to me. Sorry I keep messing up."
Fred could see the tears threatening to spill.
Quietly, he said, "Jug, you're such a smart kid. You did worry me. You did mess up. But all that's forgivable. The goal isn't perfection. The goal is smart decision-making. I'll always be here for you. You can't lose my love. I hope you understand that."
Jughead swiped at his eyes, then looked up and nodded. "I do. I do understand."
Then the boys crossed the room to hug their own fathers.
"Sorry, Dad," Archie said as his dad wrapped his arms around him.
"I forgive you, son. I hope we never have to think about this again. You've got your gym and college ahead of you to focus on."
Jughead approached his father bashfully, though FP reached out and pulled him in for a bear hug.
"You remind me so much of myself. Makes me want to apologize to own father, that bastard," the man chuckled.
"Dad, I'm so sorry."
"Sometimes you scare me, kid. I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you. I love you, boy."
"Love you too, Dad."
A bell jingled in the lobby and someone called, "Hello?"
"Hey, that's Sweet Pea," Jughead said.
"Back here," FP called.
The boy appeared at the office door. "I'm early. Hope that's okay."
Fred pulled Archie down to sit with him on the couch while Jughead sat gingerly on a chair by the desk.
"Of course it is, Sweet Pea. How are you?" FP asked.
"I'm doing ok. Last night was bad, but not too bad."
Suddenly, the teen seemed uncomfortable. "Thanks, FP, for whatever you said. It was better. My dad was better."
FP patted the boy's arm then hugged him. "Any time. You come here. Or you come to my house. Any time. Or just call that number I gave you before. It's my work cell. Always on. ...I can't help when I don't know there's a problem."
The boy nodded.
FP teased, "And maybe don't let these two turkeys talk you in to any more of their harebrained schemes."
"Yeah, maybe not," Sweet Pea smiled. Looking at his friends, the teen added, "Y'all must be okay, sitting there, looking comfortable."
Archie chuckled.
Jughead looked embarrassed. "This hard chair was a mistake," he sighed.
They all laughed.
"FP, why did you want me to come back this morning?" Sweet Pea asked.
"Actually, all the boys will be coming in. Gym rats, Gargoyles, everyone. You boys are going to be doing some work detail today. It's all been arranged. The parents will be there too, just in case anyone has an attitude or decides to slack off."
Sweet Pea paled.
Quickly, FP clarified, "Well, not all the parents. You and Jughead will be under my watchful eye today."
The tall boy relaxed.
Fred stood up. "Come on. Let's go grab a quick breakfast at Pop's before it's time for you all to get to work."
"Yes, I'm starving! They serve cheeseburgers at breakfast, right?" Jug asked seriously.
Everyone laughed as they headed out.
Author's note: I need to leave this story for awhile. ...But reviews inspire me. (And I can't write a story with Betty being spanked. Not my thing, friends. Sorry.)
