Author's note: Back at it with chapter two. Enjoy! (Also, Awaken the Dawn has been updated. It doesn't seem to ever want to show up in the updated stories section so, it's been updated).

Jughead watched as Betty practically ran from him in her attempts to get away as fast as she could. And, to not answer his question about who texted her. Despite not being in her life the past three years, he still knew her tells. The way her eyebrow furrowed in concentration when something captured her attention; the way she chewed on her lip when nervous or anxious about something. It was the latter on the text she received that made his stomach twist in knots. She looked deeply unsettled by whatever she had received.

Shaking his head with a sigh, he walked back into the coffee shop, suddenly no longer all that interested in finishing out the coffee get together with Betty absent. Jughead knew she was going to be less than thrilled to see him; knew that she would be disappointed. And, she had every right. He essentially ghosted her. No rhyme or reason as to why, either. He wasn't even sure if he had a reason for himself except, "I'm in love with Betty Cooper and not being around her for three years will be hard enough – let's not add to the misery, Jones, by continuing to communicate." He expelled another sigh as his feet carried him back to the booth he was in with Archie and Betty. That plan had clearly backfired given how indifferent Betty was towards him now. Settling back into the booth, he looked at Archie, noticing the look of calculation in his eyes.

"What?" Jughead asked wearily.

"You fucked up," Archie said bluntly, taking a sip of his coffee the next moment.

"I know," Jughead muttered.

"Do you?" Archie asked.

"Yeah, I do," Jughead said. "I did fuck up by not staying in touch with her – either of you, really – but mainly her."

"Why didn't you?" Archie asked after a momentary pause and Jughead sighed.

"She was destined for great things and I was stuck in Toledo with my parents trying to make sense of their shitty relationship and shortcomings. It wasn't ever going to work out in my favor," Jughead explained.

"Bull shit," Archie snapped, and Jughead looked up, surprised by the redhead's tone. He continued on in a lower tone once he had Jughead's attention. "Betty was a wreck after you left. After she had to find out you were finishing high school in Toledo, through me – dick move, by the way – and you should have seen her hands."

Jughead's stomach clenched. The two of them were the only one's who knew what she did to herself when things were overwhelming. Whether it be dancing or her expectations with school. Her mother, who was as nice of a woman as they came, didn't know because Betty was afraid she'd disappoint her. So Archie and Jughead spent afternoons cleaning her palms, making up stories to distract her from the pain, and telling her she'd get healthy one day. "How bad where they?" His voice shook on the question.

"Fucking bad," Archie answered truthfully. "We both lost our best friend that day, but she also lost…so much more." Archie's voice tapered off as Jughead shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew how much truth was behind that statement; knew what Betty meant to him, always. And, knew what he meant to Betty. At least, what he meant to her at one point.

Shaking his head, Archie continued. "Then, all that shit with her dad being the Black Hood. It wasn't a good year. Not by any means."

Jughead nodded his head, wincing at the memory of Archie calling and explaining what had happened. How Betty had needed them both; how Betty had needed him first after Hal tried to kill both her and her mother, and then when Penelope killed him. In front of her. He had spent the entire night with his head in the toilet, throwing up at the idea alone of Betty seeing something as horrific as that and, in a rare moment, his father stayed by him, whispering softly that Betty and Alice would get through this because there was simply no other way.

"She got better, though?" Jughead asked, voice hopeful.

Archie shrugged a shoulder helplessly. "I mean, you remember what she was like – don't look at me that way, Jug, I know you do – she forced herself to put all of her energy into her dance and her audition for NYU. My dad helped Alice save up as much money as she could to pay for whatever the scholarship wouldn't cover and now, here we are. She dances every hour of the day and studies every hour of the night and I have to remind her, more often than I like, to remember to eat and drink."

Jughead chuckled as he nodded. "She was that way in school." There was a pause before he voiced the question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to but knew he needed one regardless. "You know why that text frightened her so much?"

Jughead watched Archie's face carefully as the ginger seemed to ponder his question. He settled on his reply a moment later.

"I'm not completely sure but there's something she's not telling me," Archie admitted, a frown down turning his lips. "She's never not confided in me so for her to be quiet about something suddenly is a bit worrisome."

"What's your thoughts on it?" Jughead asked.

"I'm not sure. Could be nothing, though my gut is screaming the exact opposite. She's not secretive this way. The last time she tried to be secretive, I found her in the Blue and Gold office, crying as she tore her palms to pieces. Took a long time for me to get her to open up about that and it was only after she had her palms doctored did she finally inform me about what Hal was doing to her – about the stalking and mind games he was putting her through," Archie's voice trailed off as he got lost in his thoughts. Giving his head a shake a moment later, he continued on. "I don't know what she's attempting to hide this time, but it can't be good, whatever it is."

Jughead nodded, mind working furiously fast. Archie spoke up once more.

"Go see her. I'll text you the address of her apartment."

A look at his old friend told Jughead Archie wouldn't budge on this and he really didn't want him to, either. He nodded, tapping the tabletop twice with his index finger before departing, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket with what was undoubtedly Archie's promised text.

XXX

Staring up at the building before him, Jughead took note of the fact that while it could be considered nice, the neighborhood wasn't the greatest. He shook his head, knowing that Betty had probably declined an offer to live closer to Archie because she was determined to prove she could do things on her own; that she could survive on her own. Stubborn girl.

Walking into the building, he ignored the looks he received, and made his way towards the elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor, shaking out some of the nervous energy he had in his system. His feet moved of their own accord once he got on her floor, carrying him towards her door and he was suddenly knocking on said door before his brain had time to register anything that was happening. He heard shuffling behind the door before the lock was turned and Betty's exhausted face peered back at him.

"You like tired," he blurted out unconsciously, then mentally kicked himself for his lack of filter.

"Thinly veiled way of telling someone they look like shit," Betty mused. "Flattery will get you nowhere. What do you want, Jughead?"

He tilted his head to the side. "You're not going to ask how I knew where you lived?"

"Archie will get his rightful scolding, traitor he is," she replied, and Jughead winced, momentarily wondering if he should give his friend a heads up. Then, Betty was retracting her claws somewhat and inviting him in for tea and Jughead pounced on his opportunity.

Following her into the apartment, Jughead took in the layout. It was warm off the bat – that much was clear. There was a pattern with her color theme – two colors that should and did represent darkness, black and grey – but somehow, for Betty, they still exuded the warmth she exuded as a person. Her countertops were marble, and he recognized he had been right in his earlier assumption: that while the neighborhood wasn't seemingly great, the apartment itself was. He watched as she started the tea kettle, procuring teacups as she waited for the water to boil. When the teapot started to whistle, she caught it, turning it off and snagging it off the stove top before pouring water into both cups and producing a box of tea bags. Plucking out what appeared to be lavender tea, she turned to him as she slid over the box. A silent invitation to take his pick.

Grabbing early grey, he sunk the bag into his cup and let it cool off for a moment before taking a sip, wondering where to begin with his questions. And, he had a multitude of questions that he knew he had no right to the answers to.

"Why are you really here, Jughead?" Betty's quiet voice penetrated his thoughts and he looked at her, smiling somewhat guiltily.

"Can still read me as well as you were always capable of," he murmured.

"Three years couldn't change that, despite wishing otherwise," she replied flatly.

He deserved that, he supposed.

"I'm here because I'm curious about that text you received," he said without preamble.

"Curiosity killed the cat, haven't you heard?" Betty asked coolly.

He was undeterred. "Who's bothering you?"

"No one of any importance to you. Or Archie. Pass that message along next time he sends you on a rescue mission you don't need to be sent on, yeah?" Betty asked, eyes staring into her mug.

"You know, the more you deflect my queries, the more I start to realize it's more dire than you're wanting to let on," he said calmly.

Betty laughed; the sound rueful. "Jughead, despite what you may wish, you don't get to be the hero. Not anymore. Not after leaving for three years and leaving me to hear about it through Archie. You want the hero title so desperately? Should have been there with all of the stuff with Hal."

She didn't call him dad and Jughead didn't blame her. He just nodded.

"I know." His voice was solemn; quiet out of the respect she deserved. After a couple moments of silence passed, he continued. "I should have been there. Should have answered your calls. Should have called you as soon as I found out about it."

"Why didn't you?" Betty asked quietly. Jughead caught sight of her fingers twitching and he wanted nothing more than to lace their fingers together and hold hers' still in his protection. Swallowing, he recognized he didn't have that right and just answered her question instead.

"Honestly? I was scared," he admitted. "I was scared to receive the rightful wrath of Betty Cooper but more importantly, I was scared to hear in your voice that you weren't okay. Even if you were pretending to be for the sake of everyone else."

"You were always the only one who was able to read my emotions through my voice alone," she said, voice a quiet sigh and, in Jughead's ears, wistful. Then, she laughed slightly. "Doesn't matter, though."

"Don't do that," he whispered, looking at her and begging silently that his look alone would make her look up and meet his eyes. "Don't brush it off as if it was nothing."

"Why not? You certainly did," she replied.

He didn't have anything to say to that. Not anything she would want to hear. His apologies – and, he had a thousand of them ready to fall off his tongue at a moment's notice – wouldn't justify anything. Not a fucking thing. So, instead, he circled back to the reason he came to her apartment for.

"If you're not going to tell me why a text made you so scared and, I really wish you would, then at least tell Archie. He's worried, too," he said.

Something like apprehension flickered in Betty's eyes only just but he caught it, nonetheless. "I don't want to tell Archie."

"That bad?" Jughead asked quietly.

Inhaling shakily, Betty slowly but with precision, pulled out her phone and pulled something up on the screen, before closing her eyes and sliding it over to Jughead. His heart clenched at her movements and he picked up the phone, wondering what on earth could cause her to be this scared. His stomach bottomed out a moment later when he got his answer.

Staring at the back of a very naked Betty, his teeth ground together as his fist flexed. He looked at the number, noting it was just that – a number. No name attached. Meant one of two things. Either Betty didn't know who the sender was, or she didn't bother saving them. Knowing Betty Cooper, he knew it was the former. Jughead forced himself to speak around the fury he felt at the realization slowly sinking in.

"How long have they been texting you?" Jughead's voice was hard. Betty didn't argue with it.

"A few weeks now," she whispered.

He rubbed a hand across his face. "Shit. Have you seen anyone following you? Anyone acting suspicious?"

She shook her head, hands clenching onto her mug of tea as if it were her lifeline and he wished it were his hands she were holding instead.

"No," she admitted. "And, I'm relieved for that. I leave the dance studio late a night a lot of the time. I don't need to be accosted by whoever this person is."

Jughead exhaled slowly through his teeth, very much wanting to tell her to not stay at the dance studio that late; to not be stupid in decisions regarding her safety. Instead, he asked a question.

"I know it'll take a lot of groveling on my part to get a friendship going once more but please, can I at least be with you the nights you're at the studio? If not me, Archie?" Jughead asked, praying to God she said he could.

Betty finally looked at him and studied his face. She nodded slowly.

"Yes, but I'm only letting you if you promise to not bring Archie into this shitshow," she replied. "He goes a little too hard on, "overbearingly over-protective older brother", at times and I just do not have the mental capacity to deal with that on top of dance lessons and classes."

Jughead nodded quickly. "Yeah, anything. Of course."

Nothing else was said and soon enough, Jughead was showing himself out. But, the gentle grasp of his elbow by Betty's familiar touch left him walking home with a lighter heart.

Author's note: Thoughts lovely, per usual! Xx