Betty's head ached. Her eyelids fluttered open just for a second, but she couldn't recognize anything. With a groan, they closed again. She tried to rub at her face with her hand, but pressure at her wrist told her she couldn't move. Her eyes snapped open and she looked around. Her hands were tied to a wall with thick rope, as were her ankles. The room was cold and grey with boxes littered around. She pulled at the bonds, trying desperately to break free. A deep chuckle echoed around the room and sent chills up her back.

"Welcome back Princess," a man's voice drawled. "We are going to have a bit of fun." A shape moved in the shadows as the man stepped forward. His brown hair was curly and fell messily around his ears. His face gave off a creepy vibe that made Betty want to curl up and hide. He sauntered over to her, bringing the smell of whiskey with him. "Why don't you tell me what you know about Jonesy."

"Who are you?" She questioned, hoping he couldn't hear the tremble in her voice.

"Who are you?" He mimicked, his voice getting three octaves higher and squeaky. He laughed at himself. "I take it you know my good friend Jones?" He looked her in the eye, trying to catch a glint of recognition. "Just kidding. I already know that you do." He walked closer, with the same swagger as before. He fingered something in his pocket and Betty saw the handle of a switchblade sticking out. Her voice caught in her throat as she panicked.

"You mean Jughead? Why does some creepy man from the South Side want to know about my friend? What could he have possibly done to you? As a matter of fact, why am I here?" Her voice got higher and louder with each question.

"My my my. This one asks a lot of questions, don't ya princess? Clearly Juggie doesn't tell you all that much about himself." His hand stroked her cheek, trailing down to brush her collar bone. Betty thrashed against the ropes, realizing she was missing her coat and throw.

"Get your filthy hands off me," she growled. The man just laughed and pressed a kiss to her mouth, letting his hands trail her waist. When he, at last, pulled back she spat in his face. "I said. Get. OFF." He brought his hand up and struck her across the cheek, leaving a stinging mark. Tears pricked her eyes. No one had ever hit her that hard, and it hurt. Her head hung on its own accord, displaying her dejected feelings.

"I make the rules princess. Don't forget that." His voice was low and menacing, making her quiver. With that, he stalked away, leaving through a grey door in the grey wall.

Seconds passed and faded into minutes. The minutes to hours. Time slowly crawled by for Betty Cooper, making her unaware of the hour. Her eyes scanned the room, desperate to find something to help her escape. Everything was brown or a shade of grey, making the entire place drab and boring. Just walls and boxes. More boxes, and some more walls.

By the temperature of the room, they were slightly underground. The walls radiated chilling air and made goosebumps across her skin. At last, the man returned, the door banging open to announce his entrance. "Miss me, princess?" He questioned as if actually thinking he was going to get a positive response.

"Not in a million years bastard," she replied, letting venom drip off of every word. He clucked his tongue and made his way to her.

"Now. Tell me what you know about Jughead Jones."

"I am not saying another word to you, you self-absorbed prick!"

He walked even closer, breathing on her face. She wrinkled her nose at the horrible smell. He pushed her into the wall with his body, trapping her as he kissed her neck. One hand slid under her shirt, sliding north until he reached her bra. She felt his fingers push at the wire and she let out a shriek of disgust.

He did the opposite of pull away, pulling the bra down until he could touch her exposed flesh. The other hand grabbed her butt and squeezed, his mouth making harsh bites on her skin. Betty thrashed, trying to throw him off, but he held on.

"Don't touch me you son of a bitch! I said GET OFF!" As her voice boomed across the room, the door slammed open. A group of teens ran into the room, anger flaring in their eyes. A boy with dark hair stood at the front. He looked about six-two in height, and every inch of him was stiff with hatred. The man pulled his hand from her shirt but still lingered far too close to her, his hand resting on her hip.

"Let her go Malachai. Right now." The man laughed his evil laugh but backed up another step, pulling out the switchblade in preparation.

"Here are my slithery friends. Say, where's Jonesy?"

"Right here asshat," came Jughead's voice. A gasp escaped her lips as Jughead came out from behind the tall, muscled boy. A thick leather jacket covered the shirt he was wearing when they left the hospital, the bandage around his hand still whitish. His eyes gave her a once over, not in the way that the man had been looking at her, but in a way that made her feel like he cared. They lingered on her cheek where the man had hit her, and she realized that the slap must have left a red mark.

"Juggie," she whispered, voice cracking. His eyes slid to hers, their normal color diluted with rage. And yet they softened when he looked at her as if she made his insides melt and his walls crumble. "It's gonna be okay Betts." His gaze snapped back to Malachai and a horrible smile crossed his face, eyes turning stone-cold once more. "Now, why don't you get the hell away from my girl before I kill you."

"Your girl is she? Where were you when she was wandering around the South Side searching for you, huh?" Jughead stalked toward him.

"I asked once. I will not ask again." Malachai's booming laugh echoed again.

"Or what? You gonna make me?" In one movement, Malachai's hand was at her throat, the knife resting against her skin. She gasped with fear and shock as Jughead froze.

"Oh Malachai, you know better than to harm a Serpent. We bite back, you bitch." Jug slowly moved his hand and grabbed something from the back of his belt. He let it hang by his side, exposing the gun to both Malachai and Betty.

"Oh Juggie," the man wheezed, imitating Betty's high and panicked voice before slipping back to his own. "Going to fight me?"

"Yeah. I think I will." The man laughed and backed away a few feet, out in the open. Jughead stepped in front of her, letting Betty see his South Side Serpent jacket. He was close enough to touch, but her hands were still tied. "Sweet Pea, cut her loose." His voice was shaking, but not from fear. She could see his shoulders tense with fury and almost felt bad for whoever was on the receiving end of that wrath. Almost.