our story is not over

by x-shadow-x-kisses-x

Betty and Jughead through their early twenties. Set after 4x19. Bughead endgame. Expect: Jughead in an abusive relationship, Betty struggling to make it through life after TBK, lots and lots of hookups with each other and more characters, and Jughead as a single dad. Falice baby. Charles and JB get better storylines. TW: miscarriage and assault (no graphic descriptions).

4. girl you make it hard to be faithful

It wasn't until Jughead visited Riverdale for the first time since Betty's disappearance that he started to feel that perhaps, possibly, maybe… sleeping with Kevin could have been a mistake.

It didn't quite hit him at first. Hooking up with Kevin energised him, made him feel better about himself and his sex life in general. He didn't need to get shit-faced drunk; he just needed to find a connection with someone, develop a friendship, and then the sexual attraction facet of a relationship would happen.

He was grateful to Kevin for showing him that; maybe if he was single, and in New York, Jughead might have even asked Kevin out… but he was leaving the next day, and Jughead bid him farewell with the knowledge that at the very least, his friendship with Kevin didn't seem to have crossed any awkward boundaries.

He scrolled through some of the saved numbers in his phone contacts. There were several girls who he meant to call back after their drunk one-night stands, but something always held him back. They weren't interested in, nor had proper respect for Hemingway, or they didn't like horror movies, or they obviously thought he had more money from book sales than he actually made.

None of them seemed like 'friend' material.

It was when he pulled on his blazer for a meeting with his publisher that he realised he had a different opportunity to find someone to connect with. He reached into his pocket and found Cora's business card.

Cora Carter

New York Minutes Online

Her cell number was printed beneath the card, and Jughead found himself typing it into his messenger app, a cautiously optimistic feeling in his mind.

Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow-ripening fruit.

He sent the message before he could cringe over how cheesy it was, and quickly shoved his phone into his pocket before he could overthink how she might respond. If she responded.

He ignored his cell phone throughout the meeting, and several hours later (after a torturously long lecture from his agent Sam Panksy about producing enough chapters by the deadline) he opened up his apps to find several new notifications. Two were from Cora, and he felt an odd urge to nervously bite his lip as he opened her messages.

Not the worst opening line I've read. Aristotle, right? She followed up with: Never been put in the friend zone so fast, accompanied by a little emoji of a monkey covering its face.

Jughead grinned as he messaged her back. You guessed it. And hey, the start of any good social interaction begins with a friendly association.

She responded instantly. You got any more life advice for me?

Never do anything you don't want to explain to the paramedics. He sent back after a quick google search.

I learned that the hard way in sophomore year. My ex was really into butt stuff - let's just say Hot Wheels boxes could do with a few extra warning labels…

Jughead laughed out loud.

They struck up an easy friendship, and Jughead enjoyed the lack of pressure on their interactions. He helped her edit her creative writing drafts for her final year of college, and she seemed to genuinely appreciate his input. By November, he was comfortable enough in her presence that they were hanging out in person almost weekly. She watched serial killer documentaries with him when he was looking for literary inspiration, and he accompanied her to writing events she was reporting on for her job.

She started dating a guy from her college named Shane, and Jughead found amusement in her rants about his lacklustre attempt at sexual deviousness. He quickly learned that she had zero interest in Shane's dominating BDSM desires, and jokingly suggested that she try being the 'top' for once. He didn't have any negative opinions about the dom/sub dynamics of sex, and told her as much when she expressed that 'being chained up is just restrictive and boring'.

"Sounds to me like he's doing it wrong. It shouldn't be boring, it's exciting to be chained up. Letting someone take control like that… it's intense."

"Ugh." Cora rolled her eyes as she sat on the couch in his apartment and searched YouTube for 'found footage' horror movies. "He thinks it's intense. But I always end up just laying there like a dead starfish. Seriously, there's only so many times I can put up with him trying to talk me into cumming on demand before I'm just like: you're not exactly making me."

Jughead laughed. "Well tell him that. Why is it so hard for people to communicate their needs? If it's not working, try something else. Be spontaneous. Tell him what you want."

"Easier said than done." She shook her head as she selected an alien film that had thirty thousand views and almost as many thumbs down. "This looks so shit, I can't wait to watch it. Do you have any Shiraz? I'm feeling a bit fancy tonight."

"Coming right up." Jughead said as he got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen. "See that? You asked, I am delivering. Communication."

"Remarkable." She quipped. "Put that in your next best seller. Get all the middle aged women horny for respect. We're overdue for the 'wine and dine' edition of Fifty Shades of Grey."

Jughead's own love life was stagnant. But for the first time in years, he was okay with that. He had friends within the publishing company, his agent always had a sunny disposition even when he was telling Jughead off, and Cora was a steady and familiar presence that provided laughter, banter, and amusement whenever Jughead needed it.

Overall, he had no complaints about the state of his current circumstances. He was even halfway through his next novel, tentatively called "Guttermouth". Sam wanted to see a sequel to The Outcasts, but trying to write the next stage of Jordan and Bella's romantic exploits proved too depressing for him to even consider.

Instead, he wrote about a teenage boy from the wrong side of the tracks, nicknamed Guttermouth, who was forced into homelessness when his mother skipped town with his kid brother, leaving him alone in a downtrodden trailer park with his meth-addict father. It was set in the same small-town as The Outcasts, with a few cameos from the original side characters - but this story focused on Guttermouth's attempt to hide his homelessness from his classmates while he struggled to get through high school and escape the oppression of the villainous mayor Herman Large.

He wondered if his family would notice any of the similarities to his own life…

A few days before Thanksgiving, he got a message from someone he'd all-but forgotten about.

Hey bro, you still in New York?

Jughead read the message from his Iowa roommate Dean with raised eyebrows. He hadn't spoken to the man since graduation, and was genuinely surprised to be hearing from him.

Manhattan, moving up in the world one socio-economic division at a time. Jughead responded.

You haven't changed at all, I see :) was the response from Dean, followed with: I'm moving to Brooklyn for work next month. Wanna catch up for old time's sake? I haven't had a Hennessy Buddy in far too long.

Jughead pursed his lips and agreed. It couldn't hurt to branch out and widen his circle of associates.

He rented a room at the Five Seasons over Thanksgiving. He had no idea who would be in attendance this year, but suspected all rooms would be occupied throughout the Elm Street house. Thanks to Jellybean's daily updates, he knew Betty was living with the family for the time being, and he didn't want to risk having any awkward late-night run-ins with her.

He had no idea what was going on in her life. Had she recovered from her ordeal with the Trash Bag Killer? Was she still working with the FBI? Was she still seeing Glen? Was he going to be joining them for the food-festival Alice was no doubt preparing for the weekend?

Jughead tried not to dwell on those thoughts as he made the bike drive down to Riverdale.

Jellybean and FP, as always, were happy to see him home. But it was Chandler who met him at the door, a shrill shriek of excitement bursting out of his mouth as he ran and threw himself around Jughead's legs.

"Juggy!" He exclaimed as he meandered around his older brother. He lifted his little hands up, and Jughead scooped him into his arms with a smile. "You're home!"

Jughead couldn't hold back his enthusiasm as he carried the toddler further into the living room. "Hey Buddy. Are you being good for your Mom and Dad?"

Chandler grinned. "No!" He giggled, a devious glint in his eyes. "Mommy said I can't go in the kitchen no more." He held a hand up to Jughead's ear and whispered: "I ated too many cookies."

Jughead smirked. "Good job."

It wasn't until much later that afternoon that he finally saw Betty. Her presence in the living room gave him a feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. She smiled politely at him as they exchanged strained pleasantries, and Jughead was relieved to see her alive. He'd known for months that she was, but seeing her back in their Elm Street home was incomparable.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, as always… but Jughead could see through the cracks in her forced-happy demeanour.

There were deep, dark circles beneath her eyes. She was thinner than ever, and her face appeared gaunt and haunted. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and the few smiles she gave out to her family were tired and fake. Her eyes didn't shine with excitement or ambitious opportunity when she talked about applying for another job within the FBI. It would be a new position, given to her after several months of being put on leave.

Jughead noticed a lot about Betty over the next two days that left his stomach rolling with worry. She jumped at any loud noises, and was almost always checking over her shoulder - for what, Jughead couldn't tell, but she had a tense, stressed aura about her in all her actions that Jughead knew she was deeply struggling with some internalised fears.

It was probably TBK, Jughead suspected. She was clearly suffering from PTSD, but she hid it well from Alice and Polly behind a permanently strained expression.

She was also short-tempered. That much was a surprising new personality trait that Jughead had never seen from her. Betty, even when stressed, usually had a lot of patience for the people around her. But now, if the twins and Chandler were repetitively loud and annoying, she seemed to snap quickly and back away from the situation. She didn't want to be involved in their raucous games, and withdrew from animated conversations that broke out between Jellybean and Charles.

Jellybean, at least, seemed to be thriving in her first semester of college at CalTech. She'd flown back home for the holiday, and had plenty of exciting things to tell Jughead about her engineering degree.

He had one semi-positive interaction with Betty over the holiday. He found her in the garage early on Thanksgiving morning, tinkering with an old car that looked more rusty than it was worth, and cleared his throat to get her attention.

She jumped and hit her head on the open hood, then spun around and faced Jughead. The expression of pure panic in her eyes as she faced him and took a step back made Jughead's heart lurch.

"Whoa, sorry!" He stuttered out. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Betty huffed out a breath of air and crossed her arms over her chest. "No, no, it's fine. I just… was so focused I didn't hear you come in."

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, and an awkward tension developed between them.

"Um, did you want something?" Betty eventually forced out.

Jughead frowned for a split second then composed himself. "Yeah… I just wanted to check on you."

Betty raised her eyebrows. "Why?"

Jughead swallowed. "You don't seem like yourself."

Betty exhaled in frustration. "I'm fine Jughead. And before you ask, I don't want to talk about what happened in April." Her cool expression broke for a moment, and she quickly shook her head. "I can't."

"Okay, we don't have to go there." Jughead said quickly.

Some of the tension left Betty's shoulders. "Thanks."

Jughead looked around the garage for a few seconds and made his way closer to Betty. "What are you working on in here? Looks… complicated."

Betty smiled slightly, and Jughead's heart raced as he realised it was the first genuine emotion he'd seen from her all week. "It's a 1967 Ford Mustang. I found it at Steve's Junkyard. It doesn't run, and it's probably going to cost me more to fix than it's worth. But…" her voice lowered as she ran her hand along the engine. "It's been good, for me, to have something to keep me focused." She looked up at him, a raw vulnerability in her eyes.

Jughead smiled. "Well, you're really good at this car stuff. I'm sure you're going to have it up and running in no time. Taking it out on street races, doing burnouts in the So Dale lot, you know, typical car enthusiast stuff."

Betty let out a tiny laugh, and Jughead's heart thudded in his chest. She was still obviously stressed and uncomfortable, but there was a small glimmer of the Betty he knew shining through her expression… the sweet, kind, gear-headed bookworm Betty Cooper that he'd fallen in love with at sixteen.

And then she asked him a question that brought him up short.

"So, Jug…" She asked nervously, and a smirk came over her lips. "Any new women in your life?"

Jughead coughed out an awkward laugh. "Going right for the jugular, Betts."

She grinned for a moment, then her eyes turned serious. "I'm just curious… my own love life is pretty dead. I've got to live vicariously through those around me."

He opened his mouth with every intention of telling her about Kevin… but stopped short. Guilt suddenly welled up inside him. Betty wasn't ignoring him, she was actually even interested in his life. They'd been broken up for years now, surely it wouldn't matter to her who he was sleeping with and when…

But Kevin was Betty's best friend, and Jughead was suddenly overcome with a dark feeling that he'd somehow betrayed her. Would admitting to her that he'd slept with Kevin ruin their friendship? And if Jughead did tell her, was it going to make Betty angry with Kevin for not telling her that he'd slept with her ex boyfriend, and remove him from the circle of the support she clearly needed?

Betty was vulnerable, and barely opening up to Jughead… would it be wrong of him to tell her something like that right now?

"Um, no… I've seen a few people, on and off." Jughead said evasively. "But nothing serious. I'm more focused on my book and making friends in New York."

"That's great." Betty nodded. "I… uh, read your last book." She said with forced optimism. "It… hit me hard, I think."

Jughead felt the guilt getting stronger. "I'm sorry… I didn't write it to hurt you."

"I know." She smiled again, and Jughead almost shivered as he felt her hand lightly brushing his wrist. "I really liked the ending."

Jughead's heart almost stopped beating. "You did? Most people seem to find it depressing."

Betty shook her head, and her hand lingered, practically burning Jughead's skin. "It left something to the imagination. Something to hope for, in the future… when the characters have grown up a bit, sorted themselves out, you know?" Her eyes had a glint, of something… something that Jughead dared not hope he saw. "Maybe they'll end up together one day."

Jughead's entire body was an odd mix of nerves, guilt… and wonton anticipation. "Yeah. That's what I like to think. It's what I was hoping the readers would see." His voice was barely down to a whisper. "That it's never too late to fight for the one you love."

He felt, more than saw, Betty leaning towards him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and he was frozen, her gaze holding him in place.

But then the tension broke and she let go of his wrist. "Jug?"

Jughead swallowed. "Yeah, Betts?"

Betty's face flashed with several emotions, settling on a vulnerable curiosity. "Are you happy?"

Jughead cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'm happy."

Betty smiled, and Jughead wondered if he imagined the moisture building up in her eyes. "Good. I'm glad." She took a step away from him, effectively breaking the emotion-charged trance they seemed to be in. "We should probably head inside."

Jughead wanted to say something, anything to bring back the moment that was slowly fading away. "Yeah, we should." He said, and his mind began to wander as Betty's words replayed like a record skipping on a loop.

Maybe they'll end up together one day.

…

Jughead was happy… and Betty didn't want to ruin that.

Because she wasn't happy, despite what she led her mother, her sister, FP, Jellybean, Charles, her therapist, and anyone else in her life to believe.

She was filled, constantly, with fear. Anxiety so all-consuming that sometimes numbness overtook her body and she found herself watching her life run by on autopilot. She had flashbacks, and was on edge in small spaces, and jumped any time there was an abrupt noise.

These things were ruining her life… she couldn't let anyone get too close, lest she ruin theirs too.

When she saw Jughead for the first time that Thanksgiving, she had the startling realisation that he looked good. Better than good. He seemed to have gained some weight, and it only made him appear stronger and more muscley. She'd studied his arms as he leaned against the kitchen counter to talk to FP, and she was overcome with a strong desire to feel those arms wrapped around her, holding her… maybe even doing more than that to her.

It was more emotion and need than she'd felt since TBK had stolen the last tendril of happiness she had left in her life.

She watched Jughead over the next few days. He was calm, snarky, and talkative - everything she loved about him was still there. And when he was in the room, despite her stress, she felt just a little safer than she did in her usual daily life.

And Jughead proved, more than once, that he respected her. He didn't push her to talk, just accepted her refusal and changed the topic. He made an effort not to scare her again, and took the kids outside to run around when they were being particularly rowdy. She wondered if he, too, was studying her…

After getting back to Riverdale, she spent the first month avoiding everyone in town who wasn't either her family or Kevin. But at Kevin's suggestion that she 'get out more' and 'live a little', she followed him to La Bonne Nuit and tried to drink her way into a state of normalcy.

It didn't work, and the night ended quickly when the bustling environment got too much for her. But the next time they went out, there were more people from high school present in the bar, and more opportunities to try and shake the overwhelming fear of the opposite sex that she'd developed since her ordeal with TBK.

The first opportunity presented itself in the form of none other than Reggie Mantle.

"You're looking good these days, Cooper." He said casually, raising his glass to her in a salute.

Betty rolled her eyes, and took a sip from her Vodka Tonic. "I'd believe you more if you didn't just use that line on the last three women you've spoken to since we got here."

Reggie ducked his head in shame. "Ah… you caught that, huh?"

"Hard not to." Betty said mischievously. She looked over at Kevin, who was talking animatedly to Fangs and Toni a few yards away. As she turned back to Reggie, she noted that he was openly checking her out, and decided to try and roll with it, rather than shy away from the attention. "You're releasing more pheromones than a gypsy moth."

Reggie's eyebrows furrowed, then his eyes widened in surprise. "Pheromones? Isn't that the chemical of love?"

Betty grimaced. "More like a biological mating call, but sure. Close enough." The Vodka was going straight to her head, leaving her feeling infinitely more carefree than she had any right to be when sitting next to Reggie Mantle.

Reggie's eyes suddenly filled with heat as he cocked his head to the side. "Is this your intellectual way of flirting with me?"

Betty kept her eyes on his as she sipped her drink.

Ten minutes later they were making out in the back of his car. Hard. He was a decent kisser, not the best she'd had but good enough to achieve her goal. And his beloved 'Bella' was sexy enough to make up for it.

She had his shirt off in almost no-time. His hands roamed forcefully over her body. The mix of the alcohol infused buzz in her head and the thrill of impending sex was enough to make her feel like she was coming off the edge of terror she'd been standing on for months.

At least, it was, until the terror started drawing her back.

"Wait." She said breathlessly. "I, ah…" she swallowed, and looked down at him nervously. The thrill was quickly dispersing, Anxiety replacing it like an unwanted house guest.

Reggie held up his hand. "Don't worry, I always come prepared." He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a condom.

Betty cringed, and stiffened. "No, that's not it…"

Reggie's eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, I'm no stranger to hitting it raw but I hope you're at least on the pill. I'm not ready for the next generation of Mantles to emerge."

Betty pushed herself further away from him, which was a difficult feat to achieve while straddling his lap. "I'm not… I don't…"

Reggie seemed to understand. "You don't want to do this."

Betty shook her head. "Sorry, it's not you…" she breathed out.

"It's fine." Reggie shrugged. "Not everyone can handle the Mantle, babe."

"Right…"

Her experience with Reggie, however unsatisfying it was, had at least taught her one thing.

Not all guys were like Glen.

By all means, Reggie could have easily taken advantage of her, or forced her into something that she didn't want. She'd left the bar with him, willingly gotten into his car… and she'd seen enough he-said-she-said cases to doubt that anyone would believe her if she did end up in a bad situation. So if Reggie Mantle, a sexed up bottle of testosterone, could understand the world 'no' despite being semi-drunk and having no real connection with her, then her boyfriend should have been able to respect her boundaries.

She contemplated her feelings about sex over the coming month. She researched the after effects of trauma to gain a better understanding - though that was a slow process. She found the articles so triggering that she often had to stop reading before she had a full-blown panic attack.

She liked sex before TBK happened… he already haunted her dreams, and made her scared of dark shadows in the corners of rooms, she didn't want to let him have control over any more of her life. Especially not a part that was so important to her.

Betty started to think that, perhaps, she just needed to go out and have sex with someone she trusted implicitly. Someone who always listened to her. Someone who would stop if she needed him to. Who would be patient. Someone she could be vulnerable with…

And in walked Jughead Jones.

She knew Jughead would do it, if she asked. He was caring, and he'd once been in love with her… maybe he even still was. If she told him that she wanted to have sex with him, that she needed to do it with someone she trusted to get over her fears and anxieties, she knew, without a trace of doubt, that he would be there. He would help her work through it all, without pushing her, without judging her, without forcing her to be ready.

And with Jughead, maybe it could even be fun.

She was missing the fun in life. Polly tried to get her enthusiastic about whatever the twins were doing, and Chandler nearly always wanted to play… but the kids had a youthful, innocent energy that Betty could no longer comprehend. Sometimes looking at Chandler gave her dark and painful ideas. In her lowest moments, she thought about the baby that she'd almost had with Jughead.

Their child would have been over three years old by now; the same age as her little brother.

Her life would have been completely different if her body hadn't betrayed her. Maybe it was silly to even consider things like that… it wasn't like she'd lost a newborn. The pregnancy hadn't even made it to the second trimester. But if it had… well, there was no guarantee life would be any less dramatic. Although… she could reasonably assume that if she had given birth to Jughead's baby, she would have had his unwavering support. She might not have finished college, he might not be a published author, and maybe their lives wouldn't have been easy… but they could have been a family.

And it was thoughts like these that stopped her from coming on to Jughead.

She'd heard (from Jellybean, of course - the Cooper-Jones-Smith family's go-to gossip collector) that he'd been 'hanging out' with a girl in New York. He'd claimed there wasn't anything serious there… but maybe one day it could be.

He was happy with his life in New York. Who was she to drag him down into her emotional trauma? It wasn't like she was asking him for a relationship; her heart was too broken and her soul too terrified to even attempt to get into anything serious.

She couldn't bring a man into her life when her life was such a mess; when every day she struggled just to force herself out of bed.

And there was absolutely no way in hell she was going to do anything that would mess up Jughead's life. He was good, and he deserved every moment of joy that he could get. She'd already done enough to hurt him, and she wasn't going to make things worse by dragging him down with her.

…

It was the day after Thanksgiving that Jughead wondered if shit was about to hit the fan.

Betty was still being nice to him, and with each passing day he felt even guiltier for hiding the fact that he'd hooked up with her best friend. It was a confusing place to be in - they weren't even together any more. Why should he feel this guilty?

He was so consumed with feeling guilty around Betty, that it completely slipped his mind that perhaps there was someone else who might be feeling betrayed…

He walked into La Bonne Nuit and located Sweet Pea in the small crowd. His old friend was pleased to see him, and clapped him on the back with enthusiasm.

"You've gotta start coming around more, Jug. You miss all the juicy town gossip when you're tucked away at a desk in New York." Sweet Pea said as he led Jughead over to a booth. "Speaking of, remind me to tell you who Ginger Lopez ran off with to Centerville. You won't believe it, honestly."

"Since when do you keep track of shit like that?" Jughead laughed as he slid in beside Sweet Pea.

Jughead expected a snarky remark, but interestingly, Sweet Pea averted his gaze and blushed. "Oh, you know… inside sources and all that." He waved his hand dismissively, and set his gaze firmly on Jughead. "Speaking of inside sources." Sweet Pea accepted two glasses of whiskey from the waitress who walked past, and handed one to Jughead. Jughead accepted it and held it up to his lips. "Just a heads up, you should probably watch your back around Fangs for a while."

Jughead's eyebrows furrowed and he paused before taking a sip. "Fangs? Why?" He tilted the glass back and tasted the whiskey.

"What do you mean why?" Sweet Pea asked, his tone scandalised. "You fucked his fiancé."

Jughead choked on his drink. He covered his mouth as he coughed, and beat his fist against his chest.

"Are you giving me a replay?" Sweet Pea asked with a sly smirk. Jughead shot him an annoyed look, and Sweet Pea sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. Look, Jughead, I'm not trying to judge you, or out you or something, but Fangs is pretty angry about it, and I can't really blame him."

Jughead finally caught his breath. "They're engaged?! Kevin didn't say anything…"

Sweet Pea gave Jughead an unimpressed look. "So sleeping with your friend's boyfriend is okay, but you'll draw the line at an engaged man?"

Jughead put down his glass and turned in the booth to face Sweet Pea properly. "Pea, you've got to believe me, I didn't know. Kevin said they were in an open relationship… I didn't think it was going to be a big deal." Jughead felt a weird sensation that was very close to panic roiling up inside him. "It was one time! I haven't even spoken to Kevin since then."

"Yeah well," Sweet Pea shrugged, "Betty kissed Archie one time and from what I heard, that was enough for you to ice her out for years. Sometimes when it comes to the people we love we don't exactly act rationally."

Jughead's mouth gaped open for a moment, and confusion replaced the panic. "How… how did you even know about that?"

Sweet Pea held his glass up again. "Like I said: inside sources." He took a swig and then placed the glass down in front of him. "Look, I'm not trying to freak you out. I just wanted you to know in case Fangs acts weird around you tonight." A serious expression came over his face. "They've apparently decided it doesn't count as cheating, and he promised Kevin he wasn't going to do anything to you… but maybe don't follow Fangs down any dark alleys for a while."

Sweet Pea was right. Fangs did seem angry with Jughead. He hid it extremely well, and there was no way Toni noticed that anything was amiss between the two… but Jughead saw every subtle glare and pissed off look Fangs sent his way.

That was when he really started to regret sleeping with Kevin.

It hurt to regret something that'd made so much sense to him and given him such clarity for his own sexuality. And he was mad at Kevin, too, for neglecting that important detail of him being engaged to Fangs. What even was an open relationship? Surely you were either open or you weren't. Why did it matter to Fangs who Kevin slept with, if being 'open' was something they'd agreed on? What on Earth kind of dramatic relationship mess had Kevin pulled Jughead into?

These were the thoughts spinning in Jughead's mind as he left the bar that night. He decided to leave the bike at Pop's - he hadn't drank that much, but it was enough that he didn't want to risk operating a vehicle. As he set off to walk to the Five Season's, he realised with a groan that he'd left his hotel room key at the family home. He promptly diverted his path and made the short walk to Elm Street; the cold night air sobered him up by the time he made it to the house.

He still had the house key attached to his bike and apartment keychain, so quietly tried to unlock the door and ease it open without waking up the household. He found the hotel room key on the kitchen counter where he'd left it, and was about to quietly make his way back to the front door when he noticed a flash of movement beneath the kitchen table.

Jughead frowned and tilted his head to the side. He could just barely make out the image of a small foot clad in bright pink socks peeking out from beneath a chair. The turkey-print table cloth hung low and covered up most of Jughead's view, but he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who the certain someone was that was hiding beneath the table.

Or certain some ones would have been more accurate, since all three children were hiding beneath the table.

"What are you kids doing?" Jughead asked, a grin stretching over his face.

Juniper slumped in relief, and removed her hand from covering Chandler's mouth. "See Daggy? I told you it wasn't a kidnapper."

Dagwood blushed and looked down at the floor. "You were scared too."

"Nah- ah!"

Chandler wiggled out of Juniper's lap and crawled out from under the table. Jughead stood back and allowed room for the older two children to sheepishly stand in front of him. The three kids looked up at Jughead nervously, their eyes wide as they waited for his reaction.

Jughead just smirked. "So what were you three doing awake in the first place?"

Dagwood and Juniper shared a look, silently communicating with their eyes, but Chandler spilled the beans. "We played hide and seek!" He said happily, looking up at his disconcertingly older niece and nephew for approval.

Jughead raised his eyebrows. "At Three AM?"

Juniper bit her thumbnail, and Dagwood exhaled before answering. "Me and Juniper were pretending to be spies… but we accidentally woke Chandler up so we had to change the game." He rolled his eyes. "Chandler is a bad spy."

Chandler frowned and gave Dagwood a displeased look.

Juniper continued. "Then we heard the front door open and got scared… so we hid under the table." She pouted, and her eyes reminded Jughead of a sad puppy. "Are we in trouble?"

Jughead let out a quiet laugh. "No, not from me. But you two better get back to bed before your Mom wakes up and realises you're gone." Jughead reached out to take Chandler's hand, and the little boy rubbed one of his tired eyes as he moved closer to his brother.

The twins both nodded quickly and wasted no time in hurrying to the basement door. Jughead smiled as he watched them creep down the stairs, and shook his head as he looked down at Chandler. The small child was still holding Jughead's hand, but his eyes were drooping, and he let out an impressive yawn.

"Come on, C. Let's go upstairs." Jughead said quietly.

Chandler looked up at him. "Can you carry me? My legs are sleepy."

Jughead snickered, but agreed without arguing.

Chandler's room was dark. It was an odd feeling to be carrying his little brother into the bedroom that had once been Betty's - had once been Jughead's. The floral patterned wallpaper was replaced with bright yellow paint and tiny car-shaped stickers. Chandler's bed was smaller, and there were stuffed animals and plastic trains everywhere. It was organised chaos, but there was a warm and happy vibe inside the childish room.

Jughead smiled as he tucked Chandler in around the covers. He cuddled up to a large stuffed dinosaur, and was quietly snoring within seconds. Jughead turned to leave the bedroom, and was almost at the door when a bright light suddenly beamed behind him.

He frowned and turned towards the window opposite. The beam of light was coming from the neighbouring house; Chandler's window directly faced Archie's old bedroom, a fact he had completely forgotten in the years since living in this very room.

But as far as he knew, the Andrews hadn't been home for years - not since Archie joined the Army and Mrs Andrews had made the permanent move to Chicago. They still owned it, but the house was often left empty aside from the occasional tenant. Tenants from out of town rarely lingered in Riverdale…

Jughead walked closer to the door with every intention of making sure someone wasn't breaking in and trying to steal whatever furniture had been left behind… but what he saw had him frozen in place, staring through the window as his brain went completely blank.

It was Archie; Jughead was surprised enough to see him back in Riverdale after a five year absence, but Jughead couldn't give that too much thought because Archie's arms were wrapped around a woman. A woman who was shorter than him, and had honey blonde hair… who he was kissing with all the enthusiasm of a child in a candy store.

Please be Polly. Jughead begged the universe. Please, let that be the only other single woman in town with that exact shade of hair…

But Archie's head ducked down to plant kisses to the woman's neck, and Jughead saw her. Betty, her eyes closed and her head tilted back as she untucked Archie's T-shirt from his jeans.

There were no words available in the English language to describe the heart-shattering pain Jughead felt in his chest as he watched Betty pull off her own shirt and jump to wrap her legs around Archie's hips and her arms around his neck. They disappeared out of view; to Archie's bed, Jughead thought, unable to hold in the dark realisation.

He'd been an idiot for thinking that Betty may have still been interested. She was over him, so past done that she was sleeping with the neighbours, with the window open no less, no regard for who could be watching in the dark. Jughead shouldn't have been as angry as he was, but a jealous monster had clawed itself into Jughead's chest and looked fit to call his body its new home.

Age old wounds, ones that ran deep in Jughead's body fueled the monster's anger as Jughead finally tore himself away from the window and hurried back outside into the cold night. The lightly falling snow sticking to his face did nothing to cool the heat that was boiling his blood. There was no rational thought in his mind that could calm him, no possible voice of reason that he could use to justify feeling the way he did about seeing Betty and Archie together.

He'd imagined it, of course, back in high school when she'd first confessed they'd kissed. But nothing in his imagination, none of his most painful fantasies, hurt him nearly as much as seeing Betty and Archie together with his own two eyes.

He'd barely calmed down enough by the next morning to pull himself together and make the short trip back home to say goodbye to his family.

"You're leaving already?" FP asked. He was the most disappointed, and was struggling to keep the sadness out of his voice. "I thought you were going to stay here for a while."

"Yeah, I thought so too." Jughead said, his voice strained. But I can't, he left unsaid. I can't be here… not with her still around. "But, you know, it's hard to concentrate with all the… activity in the house. I've got deadlines to meet, bills to pay… you know the drill."

FP nodded and forced out a smile. "Okay, well, don't be a stranger. Your sister's too far away to visit her old man, but the city's still close enough… "

Jughead should have felt guilty; his Dad was clearly missing him. But Betty had walked into the room and was keeping her face perfectly neutral, and a wave of anger surged up within Jughead again and he didn't have room for any more emotions. "I'll try, Dad." He managed to say, and FP nodded.

He bid the rest of the family goodbye, and as he and FP walked towards the front door, Jughead noted that Betty was lingering close enough to the pair that she'd be able to hear every word they said. If he was thinking clearly, he may not have said anything at all… but clarity and sensitivity were two qualities that'd left his mind the second he saw Betty's legs around Archie's waist.

"You know, Dad, just a heads up. You should think about putting some curtains or shutters in Chandler's room." Jughead said, his voice filled with an icy calm.

FP's eyebrows furrowed, but Jughead wasn't looking at him. He was looking past his father, directly into a set of emerald green eyes that were widening in horror.

"Kid keeps pulling them down." FP said, confusion in his voice. "They're too much of a hassle to put up again… why do you think he needs them?"

"Oh, well, Archie's back home it seems." Jughead turned his gaze determinedly back to FP. "And I just don't think Chandler needs to see our next door neighbour sleeping his way through Riverdale's female population."

FP made some kind of sarcastic remark, but Jughead could barely focus on him after hearing the strangled gasp coming from the blonde bombshell in the living room. He hugged his father and forced his eyes to stay clear of Betty's, and hurried outside before anyone could try and follow him.

He'd barely made it to his bike when he heard Betty calling out to him.

"Jug, wait! Please." She was begging him, but with every step closer she came he felt the jealous rage building stronger.

"Leave me alone, Betty." He pulled on his helmet and shoved it onto his head.

"You saw." She said, her voice filled with a pain that Jughead had trouble ignoring. "I'm sorry… Juggie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for you to see that…"

"For me to find out, you mean?" There was venom in his words.

She shook her head and reached for his arm. She flinched when he moved it away. "It's not what you think… please, I know what you saw, but… I promise it wasn't what it looked like."

Her eyes were glassy when Jughead looked at her again, and he swallowed. But her distress wasn't enough to calm Jughead's rage. "What it looked like was that you were giving Archie some Vertical CPR. My bad, shouldn't have looked so far into it."

Jughead started the engine of his bike, and Betty stood in front of the handlebars. "Wait, please just let me explain."

"I don't want to hear it, Betty."

"You're making this so much worse than it needs to be. Whatever you're thinking in your head… it's nothing like that."

Jughead's expression hardened. "So you didn't sleep with Archie last night?" He already knew the answer, but when Betty bit her lip and her cheeks went red as she stepped away from the bike, Jughead's heart still broke a little more. "That's what I thought."

He kicked up the bike stand and wasted no more time in driving back home to New York.

Betty called him three times, and messaged him much more. Her words cut him deep; she was pleading with him, telling him it didn't mean anything and she didn't do it to hurt him, she didn't want him to find out like that. She was just going through a lot and Archie was there, and if he'd just answer her phone calls she could explain…

...Jughead couldn't bring himself to respond. Betty gave up trying.

But what Jughead didn't know was that Betty was so riddled with PTSD that she was barely sleeping at night. And it was on one such sleepless night - the night after Thanksgiving, when Jellybean had already dozed off in an attempt to catch up on sleep before she went back to LA for college, and the mattress on Jellybean's bedroom floor was too close to the darkness under her bed that it made Betty shiver. She couldn't sleep, and her mind was spiralling, so she ventured out into the night to try and tire herself out.

She ended up at Pop's, and as she made her way down the rows into her usual booth, she found someone already sitting there.

Archie Andrews.

He was excited to see her. She was glad he seemed happy, but it was odd to see him back home. They made awkward small talk, and less awkward retellings of their experiences during their early twenties, and entirely comfortable conversation about the jobs they had now.

And Betty quickly realised that Archie had no idea that she'd been kidnapped by TBK.

It was like a breath of fresh air. He treated her exactly the same as he had when they were nothing more than best friends. He didn't avoid certain topics that he thought would upset her (unlike Jellybean or Polly) or treat her like she was fragile (Like FP and her Mom). He also didn't treat her like a stone cold bitch, which is how she felt sometimes when she didn't laugh at her friends' jokes.

And the reason he was in town was… well, it touched her.

"So what exactly is this seminar?" She asked.

Archie had just finished explaining that he was set to speak at the high school the following week. Since leaving the army, he had joined some sort of social justice/support group type organisation, and their old Principal had personally contacted Archie to request that the group speak to the Riverdale High Students.

"Well, the seminar we're running this week is all about consent." Archie said, pursing his lips. "You know, consent during sex."

Betty's eyebrows raised. "That's… well, it's an important topic for teenagers to understand."

Archie nodded. "And not one that they all comprehend, unfortunately."

Betty leaned forward. "What made you start doing that? If, you know, that's not too personal of a question."

Archie shook his head. "No, it's fine. I talk about this stuff all the time." He sighed and looked down at the table for a moment before meeting her eyes. "I got into this organisation after I attended some of their support groups for victims of sexual assault. It took me a long time to realise it, but Miss Grundy… or, Jennifer Gibson, was nothing more than a predator."

Betty's heart lurched. "Arch…"

"It's okay, Betty. I went through a period after high school where everything with Grundy sort of just hit me, and I started drinking a lot… it was a bad time. But with the help of people who shared my experiences, I got through it." Archie smiled. "What I usually talk about in my part of the seminar is grooming. Teen boys, in particular, don't always realise that when an older woman is giving them attention in that kind of sexual way, it's never okay. When the other person is so much older, or a teacher, they're in a position of power. And in any case, fifteen year olds can't consent to sex, especially not with someone who is an adult." He took a deep breath. "I usually talk to the kids about my own experiences, how I thought it was my fault when she got in trouble for her actions, how it's okay to speak up if they feel uncomfortable… Another person in my organisation, Sarah, goes into some more detail about getting help, and gives the kids a female perspective. She had a baby with her gym teacher when she was a freshman in high school, and she developed a drug problem after his arrest that resulted in her baby getting put in foster care for a few months. She's doing great now - she's married, has a few more kids, empowers young women to overcome trauma."

Betty forced herself to smile. "Your organisation… it sounds like it's doing a lot of good."

"I hope so." Archie said honestly. "I'm glad I'm in a position where I can educate young people about consent. Sometimes it's not just about whether someone says 'yes' or 'no', it's so much more than that. Some people even say 'yes' because they're too scared to say 'no'… and that's just as bad."

The topic was hard for Betty to think about. It resonated with her in a way that she didn't want to dwell on… and yet, the more she talked to Archie over the following hours, the more she came to realise that even though all of TBK's other victims were dead, maybe some people in the world could understand just a fraction of what she'd been through. Maybe, they could even empathise…

She also came to realise, as she sat beside Archie in his car after he'd offered to drive her back home, that maybe there was more than one man in the world she felt safe with. More than one man who would respect the word 'no' if she needed to give it to him…

Archie drew her closer when she kissed him, and didn't even hesitate when Betty asked if she could come inside…

Sex with Archie wasn't great. It was no fault of Archie's; he was good at what he was doing, but Betty was trying, desperately, to keep the fear at bay. She was tense the entire time, despite his attempts to get her to relax. Even though there was some pleasure, nothing Archie did made her unwind completely.

So no, it wasn't great… But it was still sex. Sex that Betty had wanted. Archie didn't pressure her into anything, he didn't make her feel guilty… and she didn't feel like her life was at risk in his bedroom. And Betty felt a little more sure of herself as she kissed Archie one last time, then slid out of the bed and retrieved her clothes.

"You don't have to rush off, you know." Archie sat up on his elbows as Betty pulled her shirt back on.

Betty forced herself to smile and sit down on the bed beside him. "I'd rather avoid explaining to my mother where I've been all night." Betty sighed. "Or worse, explain to Jellybean."

An odd expression came over Archie's face. "How are things over in Jonesville?"

Betty felt a distinct discomfort overcoming her. "Everyone's getting by. Jellybean's doing really well in college. FP's been driving trucks, Mom's home with Chandler and the twins when she isn't at the RIVW, and Polly's been…" Betty swallowed, "working a lot."

Archie nodded. "And what about… Jughead?"

Betty looked away, a lump forming in her throat. "He's… a famous author now." She cleared her throat. "His first book did really well, and the next one's already in the works. He's staying in Riverdale for a while… if you were thinking of reaching out to him."

Archie grimaced. "I haven't spoken to Jughead since Prom…"

"God, that feels like… an eternity ago." Betty bit her lip. She remembered Prom… Betty had not long told Jughead about her kiss with Archie. Jughead drank way too much spiked punch and knocked Archie out cold at Cheryl's afterparty.

It wasn't a great memory for any of them.

"Hey, Betty?" Archie asked as he sat up. He reached out and took her hand. "This was great, honestly… but, I really just missed being friends with you." He titled his head to the side. "While I'm in town, can we, like, hang out? You know, how we used to. Just hang out… as friends."

Betty felt tension leaving her body. It didn't make any logical sense, but hearing that Archie only wanted friendship gave her a strong feeling of relief. "Yeah, I'd like that." She swallowed. "Thank you. I…" She wanted to tell him that he'd unknowingly helped her break the ice with her own body. That she'd been so wound up and stressed about sex that she was starting to think that maybe she would be in a permanent asexual state. But she couldn't say the words, and instead settled on: "Thank you."

Betty was still feeling all kinds of mixed emotions the next morning, and then she realised Jughead knew.

And whatever pieces of her heart were still left untouched completely split apart.

…

Cora could tell something was wrong with Jughead, but he refused to talk about it with her. She often shrugged and handed him more wine, but Jughead knew that alcohol would only numb the pain - and he wanted to feel every sharp and jagged edge, even as he refused to talk or think about the problem.

Jughead couldn't bring himself to even think about what was bringing him down. It hurt too much to consider; he knew, logically, how unhealthy his thoughts were and how damaging it was to let his high school girlfriend have such an impact on his life.

But he couldn't quieten the homicidal rage inside him that reared its head when his mind replayed the scene of Betty and Archie kissing in Archie's bedroom. It was like his heart was determined to torture itself, and more than once he couldn't catch his breath as he stared down at the typewriter she gave him. The one he'd written his original book on, and the one on which he was now trying to complete his next work.

And still, a part of him felt guilty for shutting Betty out. But he couldn't talk to her; he could clearly envision the nasty and inappropriate things that would spew forth from his mouth if he even attempted to speak to her.

But after a week, when he still hadn't managed to calm the emotional hurricane inside of him, he sought out a distraction that was a lot healthier than the bottle of Hennessy calling to him from the kitchen cabinet.

"Jughead!" Dean's voice called out to him from the bar. Jughead approached with a friendly smile, and Dean surprised him by pulling him into a bear hug. "It's great to see you man. You look good."

Jughead smirked. "Are dark undereyes a new fashion trend I'm not aware of?"

Dean laughed. "Well, I didn't want to open up with: you look like you haven't slept in six weeks. I'm not that rude."

Jughead grinned as he sat on the stool adjacent to Dean. "Just a heads up, if we see any of Jess' friends in here I might have to make a quick exit. Been almost two years and they're still pissed off."

"Man, no offence but I always thought Jess was crazy." He shook his head. "You know she once told me that she thinks 9/11 was legit a terrorist attack? Honestly, of all the inside jobs, that one was the most obvious…"

Jughead thought 9/11 was 'legit' too, but decided to keep that to himself. "Yeah, well, you know crazy ex-girlfriends and all that…"

"Don't I though? Actually, I wasn't going to say this, but since you brought her up…" Dean pulled out his phone and opened up one of the apps before turning the screen to Jughead. "Look at this shit, man."

Jughead squinted to inspect the screen. He hadn't brought his glasses with him, and Dean's phone had the smallest possible font size available. "Wait, Jess messaged you?" He read through the very short conversation, which started with: Hey, big boy :) you free this weekend? and ended with Jess telling Dean to go fuck himself.

"Little psycho didn't even wait twenty four hours before she was creeping on your friends." Dean said with an annoyed shake of his head.

"That… bitch." Slipped out of Jughead's mouth without permission. His eyes widened.

Dean let out a laugh. "Oh my God. You finally cracked. I need to alert the feminist association, Jughead Jones is a mysoginist."

Jughead ran a hand through his hair. "All this time her friends have been pissed at me for something I didn't even do, and she's out there trying to revenge fuck my college roommate? The audacity!"

"Cat claws are out bro. Love it." Dean said cheerfully. He ordered two glasses of Hennessy from the perky bartender, then turned to face Jughead again. "This is why I avoid monogamous women, man. Too much drama."

Jughead groaned. "I thought you only avoided white women."

Dean waved a hand. "Not anymore. Turns out that was all just a projection of my childhood trauma. My Mom… she's not the nicest slice of white bread in the loaf, let's just say that." He shook his head. "I took DMT with this guy once, and I had the biggest moment of clarity - cheaper than any therapy I could buy, and more effective. But, the government will never tell you that, because they want you to be a slave to their health system."

Dean hadn't changed at all.

It was refreshing, to Jughead, to interact with a friend from his past whose only drama seemed to be that he didn't have enough girlfriends to keep up with his wild ideas. Jughead thought two girlfriends sounded like too many girlfriends, but he still listened intently to Dean's stories.

"Kyrah is like, really into anime. She creates her own cosplay for competitions. It pisses Sandra off to no end, but she keeps it to herself and lets Kyrah have her nerd moments." He took a swig of Hennessy. "Further proof that you can have differences in personality and interests without shitting on the things each other likes."

Jughead leaned his head on his hand, his elbow digging into the wooden bar top. "Wait, your girlfriends know each other?" Jughead was still trying to wrap his head around it. "A… friend of mine is in an open relationship, and I got the distinct impression that his fiancé isn't always aware of his sexual escapades."

Dean sighed. "They probably got into the poly lifestyle for the wrong reasons. Me, I just found two beautiful people who love sex and don't want to limit themselves to just one person forever. But a lot of people do it because one of them cheated, or they're bored in their relationship, or a whole list of other reasons that give poly a bad name." Dean shrugged. "But if you truly want an open relationship, you have to be open. Open, honest, communicative… even to the point where sometimes Sandra will tell me about the weird stuff her partner is into. He's got some wild kinks that even I wouldn't try, and that's saying something."

"Jeez, how many people are in this relationship… web?"

Dean laughed. "You make us sound like spiders, trapping people for sex. I love it."

Jughead laughed too.

Over the next few days, Jughead talked more to Dean. Although he was the same old roommate with wild ideas and funny anecdotes, Dean had matured a lot since college. He seemed to research his outlandish claims more often (though not always) and was at least open to hearing other people's opinions. He also had a real 'grownup' job in a publishing house, and had plenty of life experience to talk about.

Eventually, Jughead was actively seeking out Dean's company…

Jughead started to notice more about Dean. He was still a pretty great friend - Jughead's only good friend from college. The time they'd spent out of contact hardly seemed to matter; conversation flowed easily, naturally. But Jughead started to notice other things about his friend that were… intriguing.

Like the fact that he'd grown taller. His chest was broader. He looked like he'd been working out. Even the toned, dark edges of his cheeks were more prominent, in a hard, angular way that looked… good.

Jughead swallowed his pride one day and asked Dean straight up: "Are you into guys?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You lived with me for four years straight, have seen me hooking up with multiple people, and you're gonna interrupt my very important soliloquy on Marxism to ask me that?"

Jughead pursed his lips. "I'm curious." He said simply, hoping Dean wouldn't be offended.

But Dean's face went from subtle annoyance to… heated enthusiasm, and Jughead suddenly had no doubt that this man could have two girlfriends. "You're curious? About me, or yourself?"

Maybe Dean was the master of sex he claimed to be, because Jughead had only been idly admiring him before; now, the sight of Dean's muscled abs in his tight tank top was sending a wave of heat through Juhgead's body. "About you…" Jughead had to cough to clear his throat. "I never really paid attention to my college friends' drunken hookups, you could be into plants for all I know."

Dean snickered, then slowly approached Jughead. "If you want me to do something Jug, then all you need to do is…" He trailed a finger up Jughead's arm, and left it at the top of his shoulder. "Ask." Dean said in a low, seductive voice.

Jughead didn't ask. He brought one hand up to the back of Dean's head and pulled him down into a hot, searing kiss.

There wasn't as much talking between them over the next few weeks. Well, not as much talking as there was sex. Jughead went further with Dean than he even had with Kevin, using sex to cure the frustration and anger that lingered over thoughts of Betty.

Dean was happy to assist him with relieving the frustration, and Jughead found himself opening up to his roommate in a deeper way than he even had in college. He told Dean about his thoughts and feelings about Betty and Archie, and didn't have to try and explain his family's bizarre dynamics - he'd known Dean for years now, he already knew how insane Jughead's life could get.

Three days before Christmas, Jellybean called Jughead. He was instantly on high alert as he swiped open the call. "JB? What's wrong?"

Jellybean scoffed. "Does something have to be wrong for me to call my big brother?"

Some of the tension left Jughead's body. "Usually, yeah."

"Rude. My intentions for this call are purely informative." Jellybean said stubbornly. "And thus I bring you my first order of business: you won't believe who Betty's bringing home for Christmas."

Nausea swirled in Jughead's stomach. "Archie?" He managed to choke out.

Betty had apparently landed a new position with the FBI and transferred to Boston, but maybe it didn't work out. Maybe she'd moved back to Riverdale. Maybe her and Archie were—

"What? No, Jug. Jesus. Way to jump to the worst case scenario." Jellybean huffed, and Jughead let out a deep sigh of relief. "Wait, I take it back. Archie is not the worst case scenario - I'd actually prefer it if she did bring him, at least he's interesting to talk about."

"JB…"

"Okay, okay. Think more along the lines of a blast from the past, a once burned-out flame relit from a pile of forgotten, lingering embers…"

"Ahh… Glen?"

"No, worse than Glen. At least Glen had a personality…"

Jughead's eyes widened in surprise. "She's dating Adam Chisholm again?!"

"See? There's the disbelieving horror I was looking for. Alice just rolled her eyes at me when I expressed my obvious concerns." Jellybean seemed satisfied with Jughead's reaction.

Jughead wasn't sure 'disbelieving horror' truly captured his feelings. "Why is she seeing him again? He's…"

"Boring? Dull? Monotonous? Tedious?"

"Those are synonyms, JB."

"And they're all true." She said, disgusted. "Why, Jughead? Why did she have to go and get herself back into an unhealthy relationship? We had such a good thing going."

Jughead wished Jellybean could see the look on his face. "You and Betty?"

"No, all of us." Jellybean said sternly. "The past six months everyone has been, for the most part, getting along with each other. And I think you and I both know the reason."

Jughead was confused, and told Jellybean as much.

Jellybean sighed. "Look, Jug. Our family is well used to you and Betty pining after each other and secretly hooking up when you think nobody will notice." Jughead opened his mouth to protest, but Jellybean cut him off. "Oh, don't even try to deny it. You two have been playing the same game since college. Except when one of you gets into a relationship. Then it's like you both get this insane personality shift, and all of that sexual tension just turns into actual tension. It's maddening."

Jughead cleared his throat. "JB…"

"I'm serious Jughead. It's hard enough being around you two when you're in denial about your feelings, but it's insufferable being around you when you're jealous and angry at each other."

Jughead swallowed. "JB, things with Betty are complicated."

"Well aware." Jellybean clipped. "But even so, I'm hoping that at the very least you can try and behave yourself this Christmas. Just, you know, keep some of that Edgelord snark to yourself… just, hold it in until I leave, at the very least. Then by all means, you guys are free to fight about Adam and engage in hate sex in the garage."

Jughead held back from retaliating, but only because he suspected she was hiding something. "I'm going to withhold from commenting on how wildly inappropriate that last remark was, and instead ask… why? Why is this such a big deal to you all of a sudden?"

"It's not! I'm just trying to keep the holiday cheer going a little longer. It's Christmas Jughead. Be nice to Betty and Adam, please… for the children."

"Okay, now I know you're full of shit." Jughead said, restraining the urge to grumble in distaste. "What's going on?"

Jellybean paused for more than five seconds, and released a sigh so loud that static came through the phone line. "Alright, look…"

"And there it is."

"Shut up or I'm not telling you." Jellybean said seriously. She waited to make sure Jughead wasn't going to talk, then continued. "So, I may have neglected to mention that… it's not just Betty bringing someone home for Christmas."

Jughead sat up straighter. "Aww JB, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No…" Jellybean said, and her voice converged into such nervousness that Jughead restrained himself from teasing her further.

And then it hit him.

"Oh… oh. You have a girlfriend?" Jughead asked, trying desperately to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Please be okay with that." She practically begged, her voice filled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability.

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"

"I don't know. It's… still kind of weird to me. Well, not weird, just new. Or not new, not new at all. But things with Britta are new. And she's… important." Jellybean audibly swallowed. "I just… I don't want any of our family's usual drama to scare her away. I'm already nervous enough about telling Dad and Alice that I'm bi, I don't have room to be nervous about the explosive love lives of any of my siblings right now."

"Point taken." Jughead said, and then, almost completely on a whim he added: "Would it help if I told you I was thinking of bringing someone home as well?"

"Oooh, that depends, is it Cora? I've been stalking her instagram - she's so awesome. You could do worse, in fact I know you have done worse."

Jughead laughed. "No, Cora's just a friend. So was… Dean, until a month ago…"

Jellybean paused. "Dean?" She sucked in a sharp breath of air. "That sounds a lot like a guy's name, Jughead…"

"Funny, that."

…

Dean had no plans for Christmas, so he was happy to accompany Jughead to his family gathering ("This is the most middle class shit I've ever heard, Jug, I can't wait."). He knew Jughead didn't want to be the only kid to show up alone - Jughead had no idea whether Polly or Charles were bringing anyone, but Betty was and that was enough to convince him he'd need an emotional distraction - and Dean was happy to be there for him.

"I have to be honest about something though." Jughead said, and Dean popped a corn chip into his mouth as he gave Jughead his full focus. "My family - well, apart from my sister - don't know that I'm not… straight."

Dean's eyebrows rose and he chewed thoughtfully. "You worried they're gonna be all homophobic?"

"No, they're not. My older brother is gay and that doesn't seem to bother them. I just can't tell how they're going to react. So, I'm just forewarning you, in case they say something wildly offensive. Sometimes Alice especially can be a bit insensitive, but she means well."

"Hey, I kind of hope they do say something. It'll give me a reason to whip out my long-withheld rant about the origins of the anti-gay agenda in the Christian Bible - which some scholars believe are the result of a mistranslation and not an actual issue with homosexuality itself …"

…

Betty approached Jughead before he could build up the courage to speak to her. She'd only just arrived, and the front door closed quietly as Adam stepped into the living room with her. "Jug, it's good to see you. I'm sure you remember Adam?"

Jughead forced himself to smile. "Yes, I do. Nice to see you both again." He reached behind himself and his hand met Dean's wrist. Dean smirked as he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Jughead's waist. "Betty, Adam, this is Dean. My boyfriend. "

Betty's eyebrows shot up so high they almost disappeared under her blonde hair. Her mouth hung open in shock, and she was unable to pull herself back together before Adam reached out to shake Dean's hand. Dean accepted, shooting Jughead an amused look.

Really, their relationship wasn't even 'official'. Dean had two girlfriends after all, and only loosely used 'boyfriend' to refer to Jughead when he couldn't be bothered saying 'this is my best friend from college who I have been sleeping with for a month with the eager consent of my other two girlfriends'. But Dean had heard enough stories about Betty throughout the years that he was eager to see how the Jones-Cooper-Smith family holiday played out.

"The look on your ex's face when you introduced us makes this entire trip worth it." Dean said when they arrived back at their hotel room at the Five Seasons on Christmas Eve. "I thought she was going to be frozen in that position all night. You weren't kidding about her boy toy though - not even a hint of personality in that one."

Jughead laughed in spite of how wired he felt, and flopped down onto the bed unceremoniously. "Is it messed up that I like how shocked she was?"

Dean shrugged. "Probably not as messed up as what she's doing to The Emotionless in their Hotel Room."

Jughead groaned and rolled over so that he could bury his face into the pillows.

"Hey, surely I'm not the only one who could sense the extreme sexual frustration radiating off that woman." Dean said as he laid down next to Jughead. "Either they've got some kind of denial kink or he straight up ain't hitting it right. If she's not wrestling him into submission right now, then something is wrong with both of them."

"Can we not talk about my ex-girlfriend's sex life?" Jughead mumbled into the pillows.

Dean laughed. "Sure. How about we talk about your sex life?"

Jughead pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Sounds great." He said, and reached out his left arm to pull a smirking Dean into a kiss.

Dean responded enthusiastically and rolled Jughead over so he could press him down into the mattress. They remained, kissing, in that position for a while, and Jughead almost completely forgot about Betty and whatever she could be doing to Adam Chisholm right now. But then Dean mournfully moved his mouth away and stared down at Jughead with a curious expression.

"Can I ask you something without you getting all moody on me?" Dean asked.

Jughead frowned, and tugged lightly on the collar of Dean's shirt. "Why do you think I'm gonna be moody?"

"Because you were just having an internal tantrum, and are now trying to distract yourself with sex." Dean raised his eyebrows and stared down at Jughead knowingly.

Jughead huffed and sat up. Dean shifted out of the way to settle beside him. "What's wrong?"

Dean sighed. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong about sex, Jughead." He brushed some of the hair away from Jughead's eyes. "Which is why I wanted to ask you if you're going to have sex with Betty while you're here."

Jughead sucked in a breath of air and looked at Dean with a horrified expression. "Dude. No. Why would you even ask me that?"

"You said you weren't going to get moody." Dean raised his hands in surrender.

"I made no such claims."

Dean pursed his lips. "Jug, I don't know how this Adam character is so oblivious, but it's very obvious that his girlfriend wants to shove you up against the kitchen counter and have her way with you."

Jughead swallowed. "Look, I know Betty, and trust me: she's angry with me. She doesn't want to…" Jughead couldn't even consider the words. The mere thought that Dean could be right was stirring up an odd mixture of annoyance and anticipation.

Dean shook his head and crossed his legs. "I know women, Jug, and that woman is frustrated. And I mean that in the most sensitive way possible." He pursed his lips and leaned back against the pillows. "I won't be mad if you do sleep with her while we're here. I just want you to be honest about it. I told you, honesty is essential to every polyamorous situation."

"Well, I'm honestly not going to hook up with my ex." Jughead rubbed his eyes. "I came here with you Dean. And I'm a 'one person at a time' kind of man."

"A shame. Humans aren't meant to be monogamous; it's unhealthy. And it's a societal standard put in place to keep track of family lineages. Incidentally, in the Jewish tradition the mother determines whether a child is Jewish, because thousands of years ago there wasn't a way to prove who the father was; but there was always a certainty that whoever gave birth to the baby was their mother. And yet, it is still the norm to track a person's lineage through their father's alleged bloodline. The sexism was then, and has always been, distressingly apparent."

Jughead couldn't hold back a grin. "I'm so glad I brought you here."

"Hey, there's plenty more where that came from. Wait until I tell you about incest in the English Monarchy. Considering your past sexual relationship with your step-sister, this'll be right up your alley…"

…

Christmas Day went as smoothly as could be expected.

FP's facial expression alternated between forced neutrality and red-tinged over-enthusiasm when he looked between Jughead and Dean, and Jellybean and Britta. Charles made a poorly timed joke about how three out of four of the Jones children were showing homosexual tendencies, and Chandler would be the final piece of the puzzle to prove the Nature versus Nurutre theory. Polly had been sipping Moscato and promptly choked on her drink.

Jellybean was overcompensating for her nerves by being excessively cheerful. She shot nervous glances at FP and Alice, and half-jokingly suggested they all do shots when Dagwood asked her: "Aunty JB, if you get married will you be a husband?" which was followed up with: "But Mommy said babies come from husbands and wives. Can wives and wives still have babies too? Ouch, Aunty Betty! Why did you elbow me?"

("Oh God, I've sheltered them. My kids have no idea." Polly was horrified to admit as she finished her entire glass.)

Jellybean needn't have worried, because Britta was sweet and polite and interested in everyone's conversations - even Adam's. Alice seemed the most approving, and she shot FP a dirty look when, hours after dinner was finished and Jellybean took Britta up to her childhood bedroom, FP commented: "At least I don't need to worry about her getting knocked up…"

Jughead had been searching for juice in the kitchen and overheard their whispered conversation just outside the back door.

"Don't be insensitive, FP. Jellybean was brave to bring her girlfriend home for the holidays. And this is her first serious relationship, so you need to be supportive." Alice said chastisingly.

"I am supportive, Alice, I'm just surprised. I wasn't expecting either of them to have partners and they both come home gay? Did I miss something? Jellybean's been boy crazy since she was six. And don't even get me started on Jughead…"

Eavesdropping had never helped Jughead before, and yet he couldn't stop listening. He looked over into the living room; Polly, Betty, Charles and Adam were still seated on the couches, listening to whatever Dean was saying. Polly kept shooting Betty confused looks, but Adam seemed genuinely interested in the topic. Jughead nonchalantly stepped closer to the back door and tuned out the living room conversation.

"... what kind of father does that make me, not having any idea what's going on with my kids?" FP's voice was sad, and Jughead felt a rush of guilt. "Both of them have these serious things happening in their lives and neither of them tells me? Jellybean's always been secretive, but Jughead? I thought our relationship was good, how do I not know he's been seeing someone? Seeing a man at that? Was he too scared to tell me? Did he think I wouldn't accept him?"

The guilt only got worse. Jughead leaned his head against the door and looked down at his shoes.

Alice unknowingly offered some relief. "It's still a new thing for both of them, maybe they just weren't sure how to tell you. At least they've told you now. If that should tell you anything, let it be that they trust you enough to let you meet the people they've been seeing."

FP let out a long sigh. "You're right. That's true."

"I know it is." Alice said seriously. "And at very least… you know they're not off walking the streets at night." Alice's voice shook a little, and Jughead wondered what on Earth that was in reference to. "And they're both healthy. And they seem to actually like the people they're dating. Meanwhile, I don't know what the hell Elizabeth is doing… if I even ask her it's like I may as well ram my head against a brick wall for all the good it does."

"I know it's been hard with Betty lately. But she's here, and she's safe, Ally. That's what matters."

Alice grumbled something, and Jughead decided that he'd heard enough. He swallowed as he walked back into the living room and tried to catch up with the occupants' conversation…

… it was difficult, to say the least. Mainly because Dean was the one leading it.

Charles looked up at Jughead and smirked just as Dean said: "All I'm saying is, if there is skeletal evidence that proves the existence of Dinosaurs, who can possibly claim that Megalodon doesn't exist somewhere in the depths of the largely unexplored ocean?" Dean held his hands out in front of him, and Polly and Betty gave him blank stares. He groaned. "You know what I'm saying, right Jug?"

Jughead coughed. "Megalodon. That's the big shark, right?"

"'Big Shark'? This isn't just a big shark, my friend. We are talking prehistoric, oceanic, monstrosity huge. This thing could swallow Jaws whole without even opening its mouth."

Adam crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't buy it."

Dean's eyes widened. "You don't? Sir, I'm gonna need you to loosen your neck tie and let some oxygen flow to that brain of yours. They found it's skeleton."

Betty started to rub circles on the side of her forehead with her thumb. She was no longer looking at anyone; her eyes stared down at the coffee table, and a look of utmost concentration came over her as Dean and Adam continued their scientific disagreement.

"No, they found fragments of the teeth of a transitional species that indicates Megalodon could have existed twenty three million years ago." Adam had more passion in his voice than Jughead had ever heard. Clearly, Dean had the ability to rile up even the most Beta of the male species. Adam continued: "But the idea that it has survived this long throughout evolution, changes in climate, food source migration, and not to mention the lack of any credible sightings—"

"Hey, just because Nicolas Steno was from the Renaissance period that doesn't make his artistic impression any less legitimate."

Betty abruptly stood up. Polly and Charles both turned their heads towards her with worried expressions. Polly looked like she was going to stand up with her sister, but Betty shook her head. "I'm fine, I just remembered I left something out in the garage. You guys continue… whatever this is. I'll be back."

Adam tried to follow her, but at her polite dismissal he promptly dived back into his argument with Dean. Jughead found the topic hilarious, and was even more amused by the look of complete mirth on Charles' face and the confusion on Polly's. But when the back door opened and FP and Alice stepped through and made their way upstairs to check on Chandler, Betty still hadn't returned. Jughead's eyes wandered over to the door and he caught himself willing her to come back into the room.

He stood up almost automatically, and took only two steps towards the door when Adam's voice gave him pause.

"Where are you going?" Adam asked, a mild twinge of discomfort (or panic) in his voice.

Jughead looked at him over his shoulder. "I'm just going to make sure Betty didn't fall into one of her toolboxes."

Adam was standing in seconds. "It's fine, I can go."

Jughead frowned, and surprise overcame him. Was Adam… threatened by Jughead?

"You got a problem with Jughead being alone with your girl or something?" Dean asked with innocent curiosity. "You know they're step -siblings, right? RedTube doesn't really present an accurate account of how most men treat their step-sisters."

Jughead withheld a cringe as he continued on towards the back door. Adam's face morphed into an annoyed expression. "There are some things you don't know about him…"

"Oh, please. I heard all about the great blow up of twenty twenty four." Dean waved his hand dismissively. "Believe me, there's no need to worry about Huckleberry Finn over there, I know whose river he's sailing down tonight…"

Jughead closed the door before he could catch Adam's no-doubt riveting response, but not before he heard Charles laughing hard.

It was cold and quiet on the backyard porch. The only light came from the garage, and Jughead felt nerves building up as he took each step down towards it. The last time he was alone with Betty had been emotional and awful for both of them; sometimes he still felt the anger return when he thought about Archie running his hands over Betty's body… but it wasn't as all-consuming as it once was. Besides, he had Dean now, and Betty had clearly moved on…

… so why did Jughead still feel so guilty?

He hadn't come to a concise reasoning before he entered the garage. Betty must have heard him coming, because when he rounded the corner she was already facing him; her arms crossed over her chest, and a sour expression on her face.

"What do you want?" She clipped, frowning as her eyes raked over Jughead.

Jughead felt some of his frustration with her rising, but he swallowed it back. "You've been out here for a while, kind of got the feeling that maybe you were avoiding something." Or someone, Jughead added internally.

Betty leaned back against the hood of her old Mustang. "And yet, the very thing I'm avoiding has followed me out into my sanctuary."

"Ouch. Here I thought you were avoiding Adam."

"Why would I be avoiding my boyfriend?"

"Probably because he's boring you, but it could also have been because he was getting into an argument with my boyfriend that could last all night."

Betty's annoyed expression turned into one of anger. "Adam is nice. He's not boring."

Jughead leaned against the door frame and crossed his own arms over his chest. "Right. Tell that to all the yawns you were holding back."

"Like you care about some fictional, prehistoric shark."

"Hey, Megalodon isn't fictional. There's plenty of actual evidence to highlight its existence."

"Okay, true, but I highly doubt it still exists—" Betty stopped mid-sentence and her eyes widened. She shook her head furiously and turned towards the wall. "No. I'm not doing this with you right now." She reached up and pulled a wrench from the wall, then turned back to face Jughead, her expression composed.

Jughead relaxed his arms and took a step towards her. "Doing what? Giving me the time of day?"

"Oh, do not even go there." Betty pointed the wrench at him accusingly. "You were the one ignoring me! I tried so hard to get you to talk to me, to see things from my side, but you just want to act like I'm this spiteful, out of control slut that's only out to—" Betty closed her eyes for a moment and drew in a slow breath. "You know what? I don't owe you any kind of explanation. What I do with my body is none of your business."

"Maybe not." Jughead responded, his heart beating fast and nausea rolling in his stomach. "But when you bring the human embodiment of a pinecone into our family home and expect everyone to act like your relationship is just peachy and normal, you make it my business."

Betty's eyes flashed wild. "Oh, you want to talk about 'normal' relationships? What about that over-indulgent conspiracy nutcase you brought into our family home?!"

"Hey, at least Dean is interesting. At least his personality doesn't resemble a bag of polished rocks!"

"Spare me, Jughead. There's no way you actually want to be with this guy. I've seen you tuning out of almost every topic he's brought up."

Jughead scowled. "Maybe I actually like Dean. Have you considered that?"

"Like him? How can you even stand him? He talks more crap than a con artist in a poker game!"

"He just does a lot of research into niche topics! There's nothing wrong with that."

"Jughead, I listened to him argue with my eight year old niece about the existence of Aliens, and she intellectually destroyed him!"

"So? He's open to the opinions of children. It's admirable."

"He's an idiot!" Betty exclaimed incredulously. "And you know it. You're just using him to shock me because you're pissed off that I slept with Archie."

Cold fury spread through Jughead's chest. "What? So you're allowed to sleep with brawny and rugged men, but I'm not?"

Betty's eyes gaped for a moment before she shook her head. "Jughead, you're not gay. What are you even doing with him? Is this some kind of cry for help?"

"Um, I'm sorry, but what I do with my body is none of your business." Jughead spat, throwing her words back at her. "I never claimed to be gay, and I honestly don't feel like I need to justify my sexuality to you, considering it has nothing to do with you. And it's a little homophobic of you to think I'm only with Dean to piss you off. He's actually a lot of fun to be around." His eyes narrowed. "And I'm not bored when I talk to him."

Betty held a hand up to her forehead. "I can't. I can't talk to you like this. You're twisting everything I say because you're terrified of the truth." Her tone became piercing. "You're clearly still angry with me for sleeping with Archie, and you're throwing yourself into a relationship with another man because you don't want to process your feelings in a healthy way."

"Or maybe," Jughead interjected as he felt a wave of passionate anger surge inside him, "I just like that Dean gives head better than you ever could."

Betty's mouth dropped open for a moment, and suddenly 'offended' was the tamest word that could describe the expression on her face. "That's bullshit and you know it. We both know I can have you begging me for it."

"Oh yeah?" Jughead said, and his voice lowered as he took a determined step towards her. "Then why don't you prove it?"

Betty's eyes were blazing green fire as she glared at Jughead. He'd crossed a line, that much he knew, and he prepared himself for any form of retaliation; she might slap him, she might throw the wrench at him, or she might even go the old-fashioned wrought and kick him square in the nuts.

But nothing could have prepared him for her actual reaction.

The wrench made a loud clang as Betty dropped it to the concrete floor, and within seconds she had pushed Jughead up against the wall. He let out a grunt as his back collided with the bricks, and he kept his eyes on Betty's as she moved even closer.

And then she was kissing him.

Not slow, soft, nervous kisses. Heated, passionate, angry kisses that left Jughead breathless, and had both of them wired like the fuse of a bomb about to explode. Jughead gripped her back, and she gasped against his mouth as he slid his tongue along her lips. Their kisses were fast and hard, as though both were dying of thirst and their lips were the cure.

Betty kissed his neck hungrily, and tore at the buttons on his jacket. One of them popped and rolled as it hit the floor, and then Betty was on her knees, tugging on his belt buckle with a desperate heat in her eyes…

Jughead groaned as she finally reached her target. His breathing sped up, and he let out a curse as she circled a sensitive spot with her tongue.

She abruptly pulled her head back and stared up at him accusingly. "Oh sorry, what was that? I didn't quite hear you." She said, and grasped his hips between her hands.

"Don't stop." He begged, his words coming out in an undignified plea.

And so she didn't stop. Not until he was close to the point of no return, his eyes rolling back into his head as he realised he was almost there…

She pulled away and Jughead groaned in frustration. "I don't think I want to let you finish." She said, her voice powerful, authoritative, and tantalisingly dominant. "Not after the way you've been ignoring me. I think I want to punish you for that."

"Punish me?" Jughead gasped out. "You're the one who's been bad."

Without warning he dragged Betty to her feet, grabbed the back of her thighs and hoisted her up. Then she was in his arms, her own arms enclosing his body in a tight embrace, legs digging into his back and her mouth attached to Jughead's again. He carried her towards the Mustang, and as he laid her out on top of the hood her heels dug into his backside and her fingers gripped fistfuls of his hair. He licked a slow line down her neck and sucked on a spot above her collarbone. She moaned as Jughead grinded down against her; her skirt had ridden up, and only the thin layer of her lace panties kept him from joining their bodies completely.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Jughead growled against her neck. He leaned back and trailed his hand down between her breasts. The cotton of her tank top tickled his fingers as they wandered lower…

Betty lost all sense of propriety, or anger, or fury as she felt Jughead's hand slide between her legs. She gasped and gripped his shoulders. "Yes. Please, Juggie. I need it."

"You need what?" Jughead asked, circling her slowly with his fingers. Torturously slowly.

"I need you to make me come." She gasped out, and her legs widened as he pushed harder against her.

Jughead kissed her neck and held her earlobe between his teeth for barely a moment. "I want to hear you beg me for it."

Betty groaned and threw her head back against the hood of her car. "Please. Please. Juggie, I need you."

That was the line he was looking for.

Jughead didn't even take off her panties; he pulled them to the side and then he was in her. They both moaned, and panted, and grabbed at each other. It was rough, and hot, and so, so good. Betty gasped against his neck, and he wrapped her hair around his fist and pulled her head back. He didn't stop fucking her until she was groaning his name, shuddering against the hood and begging Jughead not to stop. Her breathy cries of please and I'm so close and yes, right there, just like that surrounded them, urging him on. He didn't stop - not until he was satisfied that he'd drawn out every inch of pleasure from her shaking body.

They were both a breathless and sweaty mess when it was over. Betty stared into Jughead's eyes, her chest still heaving as she caught her breath. His mind had lost all rational thought, the feeling of euphoric release holding him in place. There was a deeper, newer emotion building as he stared into her eyes, and she shocked him by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down into another kiss.

This kiss was softer, gentler, less urgent and more emotional than Jughead had received from anyone in years. In fact, the only person who'd ever kissed him with such a tenderness was… her.

When she let him lean back for air, Jughead realised there were tears pooling in her eyes, though she was doing her best to blink them away. It made his heart hurt in a new way, and he wished that he could hold her there forever and make the pain in her eyes disappear.

He disentangled himself from her and stood to readjust his askew clothes. Sprawled out on top of the car and still heaving breathlessly, Betty was a perfect vision of sinful debauchery and heavenly ambience. Moments later, she too stood up, and pulled her skirt back down. Only now Jughead realised it was hardly winter attire - though she seemed oblivious to the frigid air around her.

She stood before Jughead, a vulnerable hurt in her eyes. "What are we doing?" She asked, her words coming out in a breathless hush.

Jughead swallowed but didn't answer.

"We both have boyfriends." She said, and her eyes widened as she stiffened. "God, they're in the house right now, waiting for us." Her eyes darted around. "Jughead, what the hell are we doing?"

Jughead tried to find his words. "I don't know." He reached out to try and take Betty's hand, but she flinched away. "But it doesn't feel wrong."

The tears were still building in her eyes. "No, no, no. This is all wrong." The emotion was thick, and Jughead realised with a lurch that she was seconds away from crying. "We're not together anymore… we're mad at each other… aren't we?"

Jughead wanted to formulate a response, but the lines of reality were blurring with the edges of desire.

Betty seemed to make up her mind. "Jughead… I'm…" she swallowed, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm so messed up."

Jughead finally found his voice. "No… no you're not." He took in her look of sadness; it gnawed on the fragmented pieces of his heart. He moved forward and took her face in his hands - this time, she didn't flinch. "You're amazing. Everything about you is incredible. You're so smart, and beautiful, and you can do a whole lot better than Mr Finance up there."

Betty's hands reached up to hold Jughead's wrists. "God, Adam… he's so… kind. I don't deserve him." She swallowed, and another tear fell from her eyes. "I don't deserve anyone."

"Hey, don't say that." Jughead said softly. He used the pads of his thumbs to swipe away her tears. "You do deserve someone. Someone who loves you, and understands you, and stimulates you in an intellectual way… and in other ways."

Betty let out a sad laugh. "It doesn't matter. I'm… broken. There's something seriously wrong with me."

"No." Jughead shook his head. "No, there isn't anything wrong with you."

But she was already gently moving his hands away from her face. "Jughead, I'm not just saying that to get rid of you. There is something wrong. I haven't been okay for a while. I've tried to make a relationship work with Adam, but that was a mistake, and all I'm going to do is hurt him even more. I'm just… I'm too damaged. And it's going to be a long time before I can even consider letting someone get close enough to see how deeply that damage has scarred me."

"Betty…" Jughead whispered. Her words scared him, and his heart yearned to reach out and reassure her that he was there. "You're worth waiting for."

"I'm not." Betty shook her head, and her face fell as she looked down at her feet. "I'm not worth anyone's time. Not when I've wasted so many people's…"

"That's not true. You are worth it." Jughead's heart was hurting, in a way that was even more painful than it'd been when he saw her with Archie. "I'm sorry… Betty, I'm so sorry for how I reacted to you and… Archie. We… aren't together. It's none of my business who you're sleeping with…"

Betty shook her head. "I knew it was going to hurt you. And I never wanted that. I wasn't thinking clearly." She took a step away. "Please, Jughead… I care about you. And I can't… I can't drag you into my emotional mess." Jughead started to protest, but she held a hand up and gave him a pleading look. "I can't. Juggie… I'm sorry. But I can't be the person you need. And what I need… I can't find it in a relationship. You have to… move on." Her face crumbled, but she held his gaze. "You deserve the world. And I can't give you that."

"I don't want the world." Jughead felt his own eyes becoming watery.

But Betty shook her head. "I can't do this Jughead. Please, it hurts too much… I need time, way more time than I can reasonably ask from anyone." She sniffed and wiped the tears out of her eyes. "You go up ahead… I'll be inside in a few minutes."

Every ounce of Jughead's body wanted to plead with her, fight with her, for her, but the desperate, broken-hearted look in her eyes stopped him. He wanted her, desperately, and he knew with every fibre of his being that he'd wait forever if she only said the words… but she was in pain, and struggling, and if what she needed was for him to walk away… then that was what he had to do.

He tried to keep himself from crying as he pulled off his jacket. It was an old jacket; denim, with Sherpa wool lining the inside. He got closer to her, only close enough to wrap the jacket around her bare shoulders. The cold air hit him instantly, but he barely felt it. "It's freezing out here, Betty…" he swallowed, and it felt like glass was sliding down his throat. "Promise me that you'll get help if you're feeling down, okay? Not for me, not for Adam, not even for your family… get help for you. Because you deserve the world."

She gave him a small, sad smile. "I promise."

…

"So, what have we learned about monogamy?" Dean asked as he pulled off his helmet and dismounted the bike. Jughead mourned the loss of Dean's body heat against his back.

Jughead groaned as he pulled off his own helmet. "I'm sure you'll tell me."

Dean rolled his eyes and led Jughead towards his apartment. "It's unnatural."

"Right."

"And even when one says they are honestly not going to fuck their ex-girlfriend, there is always the chance that…?" Dean turned back and looked at Jughead expectantly.

Jughead sighed. "Emotions could take over the rational part of the brain?"

Dean nodded. "Well, it seems like I haven't taught you nothing at least."

Guilt formed inside Jughead. "I'm really sorry Dean…"

Dean exhaled. "Jug, I knew it was going to happen. The only person you were lying to was yourself." He studied Jughead as they both stepped into the apartment elevator. "Look, Jug, you've been on and off with Betty for years… seems to me that if there's still something there, it could be worth just trying to have a relationship with her."

The elevator started going up, but Jughead barely even felt the movement over the sudden pain in his chest. "She… she doesn't…" he covered his eyes before any of the moisture could overflow. "I can't… it's…" he couldn't form any coherent sentences as his chest tightened and his breathing became ragged.

"Shit, Jug…" Dean said as he wrapped his arms around him.

…

After a lot of internal agonising, and several kisses that were great but just didn't feel right anymore, Jughead decided to end his relationship with Dean.

Or at least, he ended the sexual aspect. Dean was an open and unbothered party in the whole affair, and so they easily stayed friends - their first platonic hangout post 'breakup' only being slightly weird, but every other one held the usual friendly ease that'd befallen them from their first night in their dorm room at Iowa.

He received a text on New Years Eve from Jellybean: To the surprise of no one, Betty dumped Adam again. Now I owe Polly twenty bucks - I bet it'd be in February.

He spent the first week of the year hoping that Betty would call him. She didn't.

Jughead taught himself to block his feelings for her out. It was easier to do now that she wasn't a near-constant presence in his life. He hung out with Dean, hung out with Cora, and kept writing the depressing young adult novel he was working on. Sam asked him to 'please give Guttermouth a happy ending'; Jughead told him he didn't want to give his readers a false sense of optimism.

By March, he'd sent 'Guttermouth' to the editors. The book's ending wasn't necessarily happy, but Guttermouth got into college on a full scholarship and made some lifelong friends from high school. They even waved him goodbye as he set off on his next adventure in a rusty old Mustang…

Cora came to him one night, mascara running down her face as she told him she'd broken up with Shane. They spent the night bitching about him and eating more pizza and ice cream than any two people had the right to consume.

Jughead started calling FP each week. At first his dad had sounded surprised but pleased, and with each phone call a little of Jughead's guilt was eased. Sometimes FP had Chandler talk to Jughead on the phone, and Jughead noted the minor changes in Chandler's speaking fluency over the coming months. His little brother was growing up; Jughead only hoped he wouldn't be a negative influence on the child's life.

It was mid-way through the year when Jughead started to feel less numb to the opposite sex. Or more accurately, less numb to the charms of one particular member of the opposite sex.

Cora had always been pretty, stylish, and interesting. Jughead wasn't blind; merely, he didn't feel the need to do anything about it. He didn't have feelings for Cora, and he had never led her to believe that he had.

And then, sometime in May, there was a… shift in Jughead's feelings.

It started small; she reached up to grab a wine glass out of his kitchen cabinet and a little of her pink sweater rode up to reveal a small strip of her back. Jughead's brain had short circuited for a moment, and as she turned around to ask him if he wanted anything, his mind had replied with: You, on the floor. He cleared his throat and asked for water, but the inner voice didn't quieten over the coming weeks.

If anything, it only got louder.

She was on her hands and knees, leaning forward as she searched beneath the TV cabinet for her lost earring, and Jughead felt a rush of heat running through his body and the sight of her ass in her skinny jeans. She dropped a piece of popcorn down her shirt and reached in between her breasts to retrieve it, and Jughead had to stop himself from telling her that she'd find it faster if she took her shirt off. She laughed at his film commentary, and Jughead's heart soared. She put her hair up in a ponytail to keep it off her face while she showed him how to make pasta, and Jughead wanted to pull the ponytail down to tilt her head towards him so he could more easily reach her lips with his own. Little things started to become more prominent until Jughead couldn't deny it anymore.

He was falling for Cora.

It took him another week to accept it, because it wasn't the same as his love for Jess. It was entirely different to his love for Betty, but he had to remind himself that one's first love was always the most intense. Logically, it was unlikely that the love he felt for someone as an adult would ever be the same as the love he felt as a teenager.

He tested the waters. Asked her questions about whether she thought she would start dating again, and her responses made him think perhaps she was thinking about him like that too. She was still as fun and exciting as ever, and none of that changed when he finally asked her out.

They didn't sleep with each other on the first date. Jughead was too nervous, and he didn't want to set the precedent that he was using her for sex. They didn't even do it on the second or third date, but he did lean in and kiss her goodbye when he walked her back to her apartment.

On the fourth date, she invited him up to her room, and they made out while a shitty found-footage horror played on her laptop.

Jughead was completely sold on a relationship with her by the fifth date. On that night she stayed over at his apartment, in his bed, and they got to know each other in a physical, tangible way that left them both breathless and spent.

By the tenth date, Jughead was starting to believe that maybe they could even build a future together.

'Guttermouth' was published, and it made the New York Times' Best Sellers List. The release of his second book had re-invigorated the interest in his first book, and suddenly Jughead was being swamped with royalties, the likes of which he had no idea what to do with.

Cora came with him to some of the book signings, and he introduced her to his publisher. Since graduating, she'd used her free time to write her own book, and Jughead gave her helpful feedback when he could; though he had to admit she was a good enough writer without the input of others.

At Christmas, he FaceTimed his family back in Riverdale. Chandler showed him his new 'laptop' - merely a children's electronic toy that did little more than sing the alphabet, but the young boy was as excited as if it was an Apple MacBook. Jughead spent the day with Cora's family; she had three older brothers who were all significantly more protective of Cora than he ever was of Jellybean - a feat that Jughead wouldn't have believed possible if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

One morning in December, Jughead realised it had been over seven years since he graduated High School. He'd been dating Cora for six months, and soon enough Jughead was asking her to move in with him.

Living with her was better. He was never lonely, always had someone to talk to, she was a lot better at cooking than Jughead was, and their sex life inreased in both quantity and quality. It was nothing like living with Jess - they'd been fresh out of college, and more interested in partying than actually doing something with their lives. The only downfall Jughead could see to living with a Cora was that he had someone he needed to answer to. There was someone who'd be worried if he wasn't home from the bar with his friends by a certain time, and someone who wanted his unwavering attention when he walked in the door.

It wasn't a big downfall, and Jughead was in awe that he'd managed to find a girlfriend who cared enough about him that she wanted to know where he was and what he was up to.

For a few weeks, Jughead considered going back to college. Book tours and literary events slowed down, and he found himself getting antsy at home while Cora worked. There were only so many books to read and video games to play before boredom became a part of his daily life.

And Jughead hated it.

He hadn't had a regular job since his first book was published. It had been great, for a while. Freeing. Having nobody to report to, being able to wake up whenever he wanted to and still get paid for it? Liberating. But he was desperate for something else to do; something that could fulfill him every day the way that writing did.

He considered journalism, or web content, or several other writing related fields. But none of them truly appealed to him in the way that writing novels did. But he couldn't live on that permanently, not unless he became the next Steven King.

A suggestion from several years ago crawled it's way to the forefront of his consciousness, and he caught himself researching the Teaching Degrees available at NYU.

Cora was less than supportive.

"A teacher? You?" She raised her eyebrows. "No offence, Jug, but do you even know anything about kids?"

Jughead frowned. "I've got two younger siblings… and my step-sister's kids are always around when I go home." She still looked sceptical, and he felt some of his enthusiasm dim. "It could be fun to inspire the next generation of writers. My favourite teachers were the ones that loved English as much as I did - maybe I could be that for someone else, you know?"

Cora frowned. "I don't think teachers make a lot of money."

"That's not really what I care about…"

"I know money's not everything, Jug. But wouldn't you be better off trying to write book three?" She asked. "You're really popular at the moment… now's your chance to capitalise on it."

He supposed Cora had a point, and so he put college on the back burner for the time being.

The first sign that something was amiss in his relationship came from Dean.

"Why exactly are we sending a selfie to Cora?" Dean asked as he threw up a peace sign for Jughead's photo. "What does she think we're doing? Playing strip Fortnite? Having a six-way with the German backpackers staying next door?"

Jughead shrugged. "She just worries about me. It's sweet - she always wants to double check I am where I said I am, you know, in case something happens to me or someone stole my phone and is pretending to be me."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "She got chronic anxiety or something? Cause that's not really a normal thing to stress about…"

Jughead bit back a twinge of annoyance. "Considering what a dangerous world we live in, I'm not the least bit surprised by her worry."

Dean frowned but dropped the subject.

They'd been dating a year and living together for half of that time when Jughead first found some of her anxious quirks annoying.

"It's Eight Twenty Three." She said as he walked in the front door. "You said you'd be home at Eight. You're late!" She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

Jughead just gaped at her. "I'm sorry… I stopped for a pretzel on the way. You know I can't resist that cart in Central Park."

"Jug, a lot can happen in twenty three minutes!" Her voice was bordering on hysterical. "You could have messaged me, or called me, let me know exactly how long you'd be! Don't just lie to me - you always leave me here, stressed, upset and worried about you."

"I didn't lie." Jughead said defensively. "I just got home later than I expected. It's not a big deal."

"It is to me, Jug."

Jughead sighed, agreed with her, and let it go.

The next thing that came close to a red flag was when she asked him to block a girl on Instagram. He didn't even know who she was talking about, but he did so without question. But several months later, as the date loomed closer to Thanksgiving and with it Cora's first time officially meeting Jughead's family, Jughead got into his first major argument with Cora.

"I don't care about whoever this Brittney girl is that you don't like, but I don't understand why you want me to delete Sarah." He said, confused as Cora crossed her arms, his phone standing out in her left hand. "Sarah is just some girl I went to college with."

"She's been liking all your posts!" Cora said, frustration evident in her tone. "It's only a matter of time before she starts trying to message you!"

"So? Who even keeps track of that shit."

"I do." She retorted. "Most people do. You're just not great with social media. Girls don't like guy's posts, especially taken guy's posts, unless they're interested in them!"

"That's so…" he almost said ridiculous, but her eyes were daring him to defy her and he shivered. "I really don't think Sarah's interested in me. She's a writer, like me, like you, and she probably just liked my post - a picture of my book, by the way - because she's showing her support. I'd like her post if she wrote a book."

It was the wrong thing to say. "Oh, you'd like a hot girl's Instagram post to show her your support? Are you serious?"

"You see, I want to say yes, but your eyes are telling me I should be begging for forgiveness."

"You should be."

"But I haven't done anything!"

"Exactly, you haven't blocked this wannabe writer slut you went to college with. Look at her profile photo - her boobs are so pushed up she may as well be shirtless, and in this picture her ass is hanging out of her shorts. You really want to be following a girl like that? What kind of image does that send out; you don't exactly look all that dedicated to your actual girlfriend, and yet you're trying to appeal to the romance market?"

"Holy shit, if I unfollow her will you get off my fucking case?"

She hadn't been happy with his 'tone' after that, but she stopped harassing him once he'd shown her proof that he'd unfollowed Sarah. A memory popped up in his mind - one that involved a massive hangover and casual nudity in Sarah's dorm room, but he kept that to himself to avoid stirring up the anger of whatever PMSing wildebeest was living inside of Cora that week.

Except, it was every week.

She kept getting angry at him when he was home 'late' without forewarning her. If he didn't text her quick enough, she'd become frustrated, and more than once had all but screamed at him over the phone.

"What? What do you think I'm doing?" He whispered into the phone while he took her call in the bathroom. "I sent you photographic evidence that I was at Dean's apartment half an hour ago. Where do you think I would have gone in that time? We're still playing Among Us, that's why I didn't see your text."

"Well, if you're not home in twenty minutes that's not the only thing you won't be seeing tonight." Cora shot back.

"What? You're gonna make me sleep on the couch because I took half an hour to reply to a question? One that you could have answered yourself by using even the smallest amount of common sense?"

She was deadly silent for too long, and Jughead started to feel sick. "With the way you've been treating me lately, you're lucky I haven't changed the locks."

"They way I…? Cora, what are you even talking about?!"

"You have absolutely no respect for my feelings. You know I get scared alone in this apartment, that I worry, and yet you continue to go out in the middle of the night and I'm stuck at home wondering what could be happening to you."

She was crying, and even though she was being completely irrational, the sound of her quiet gasps made him start to feel guilty. He supposed he had been hanging out with Dean a lot, but it wasn't like she didn't go out with her friends. Jughead never questioned where she was…

He sighed. "I'll be home soon, okay? I love you."

"If you loved me, you wouldn't have even gone out tonight."

Jughead didn't have a response, and the cycle continued.

It was a cycle that Jughead didn't even realise he was in until he brought Cora home to his family for the first time.

Jellybean was the first to voice her opinion. She dragged him outside a few hours into the exquisite Thanksgiving lunch Alice and Polly had prepared, and ushered him into the garage. The Mustang was gone, and Jughead briefly wondered where it, and its owner, were at this very moment.

"Jughead, nobody is going to say this to your face, but I'm not nobody." She said urgently, a dash of concern and… fear in her voice.

Jughead's brows furrowed. "Say what? What's wrong?"

Jellybean sighed. "I have some concerns… about Cora."

Jughead frowned. "What concerns? I thought you liked her."

"I did, in theory… but she just seems… from an outside perspective… to be a little…" Jellybean steadied herself before she continued. "Controlling."

Jughead paused for a moment, then laughed. "Controlling? Cora? No, she's fine, JB."

But Jellybean's expression didn't change. "Jug, she hardly lets you out of her sight."

Jughead shook his head. "JB, she's just nervous about meeting the family. She's worried about making a good impression. She'd be mortified to think anyone thought anything negative about her."

Jellybean bit her lip. "Jug, please don't take this the wrong way, but…" she paused, and exhaled a long sigh. "Have you considered that maybe you're overlooking some of her more… controversial personality traits because Cora looks a lot like…" she abruptly stopped talking.

Jughead's eyes narrowed. "Looks a lot like what, JB?"

Jellybean rubbed her eye with the palm of her hand. "Surely you've noticed that… Cora looks a lot like Betty."

Jughead stepped back as though Jellybean had slapped him. "How can you say something like that?"

"I'm not trying to upset you, Jug. I know this is a sensitive topic."

"Well you're doing a great job so far." Jughead angrily turned away and started to make his way out the door.

"Wait, wait, okay." Jellybean grabbed Jughead's arm and pulled him back to face her. He reluctantly obliged. "So maybe the blonde hair and the knit sweaters and the cutoff jeans are just your thing, and it's okay to have a type. I could be overreacting because I'm just protective of my big bro, and I want to make sure you've found a girl who treats you right."

Jughead crossed his arms over his chest. "Go on."

"So, if you're telling me Cora is a perfectly sane member of society then I believe you." Jellybean finished, though Jughead still saw some doubt on her face.

Jughead sighed. "She's really great, JB, just give her a chance."

Jellybean, for her part, did give Cora a chance. She introduced her to Britta and they talked about technological advances in science. Cora wasn't well versed in computers but she was smart enough to understand the topic. But even so, Jughead could see Jellybean rolling her eyes behind Cora's back and shooting Britta concerned looks.

Eventually, Jellybean got in an argument with Cora - about facebook passwords, of all things.

"I just don't see why I'd even need Britta's password. Like… Why would I ever be on her facebook account? I have my own account for trolling through memes and keeping track of events."

Cora rolled her eyes. "How else will you check her messages?"

"What?!"

Cora looked between Jellybean and Britta. "How can you make sure no other people are messaging her, or trying to steal her away from you?"

"Um, well, for starters, I know Britta likes what I can do with my tongue."

"Jellybean." Britta whispered, shooting Jughead a horrified look. He was the only other person still in the kitchen with them, and noise travelled - especially when said noise was two young women arguing their case.

Jughead waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry Britta, I've heard way worse things than that come out of my sister's mouth."

"None of which were about you, babe." Jellybean assured Britta, and then turned back to Cora. "Secondly, I trust Britta. What would be the point of me dating her if I didn't trust her to ignore seedy people who slide into her DMs?"

Cora put her hands on her hips. "I trust Jughead too, but that doesn't mean that some slutty wannabe writer won't see his interviews and try her luck, and if she does I need to know so I can set her straight."

"What are you gonna do, message them?"

"Obviously?"

"Why can't you just… ignore it?" Jellybean asked, her eyes wide.

Cora scoffed. "How else are these bitches meant to know your partner is taken if you don't assert yourself?"

Jellybean turned her gaze to Jughead. "You can't seriously be okay with this shit, can you?"

Cora was staring at Jughead expectantly. He cleared his throat. "I mean… does it matter if she reads my messages? I don't have anything to hide…"

"The fact that she's even looking for something you could be hiding is what's problematic."

Cora crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you gonna let her speak to me like that?" Jughead stared between them both, and Cora uncrossed her arms and said: "Wow." Before she walked out into the living room and away from Jughead.

Jughead thought she'd gotten past it, and the rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. But almost immediately upon their return to their apartment, Cora rounded on him.

"I can't believe you didn't stand up for me with your sister!" Her eyes were furious, and her voice even angrier.

Jughead's eyes widened. "What do you mean? You both had different opinions, I can't just force her to change her mind."

"Are you serious? She was undermining our relationship and implying that I'm controlling of you. How can you have not seen that?"

"Ahh… I guess I just didn't?"

"Wow. You're meant to be this super intelligent author, but you have no idea when it comes to relationships." Cora shook her head, and Jughead felt his mood dropping even further. "Seriously, you can't just take your sister's side for everything—"

"I didn't take her side, there was no side—"

"—because it's not your sister who's going to sleep with you every night, and be there for you when you're sad, or stressed." Cora's eyes narrowed. "Although… from what I've seen, I guess it wouldn't be too upsetting for you if you did want to sleep with your sister."

Jughead, who had been unpacking his laptop bag, paused to look up at Cora. "Excuse me?"

"Oh you know what I'm talking about." She said forcefully. When Jughead merely stared at her, she crossed her arms. "Your step-sister?"

Jughead could only stare at her.

She pulled her phone out and began scrolling. "I was going through your Instagram posts from a few years ago, and I stumbled across this photo." She turned her screen towards him, and Jughead's heart skipped a beat when he saw the photo she'd screenshot.

It was an image of him and Betty, their faces close together; so close, in fact, that Betty was kissing him on the cheek as her eyes shimmered in happiness at the camera. Jughead's own eyes were focused on her, and the small smile on his face threw him instantly into a happy memory of a date they'd had at Pop's before Senior Year. It was a better time, a simpler time, before they were separated by Stonewall and their lives had become more complicated.

Jughead swallowed and focused his eyes back on Cora. "What about it?"

"What about it? I thought Betty was your sister, so why is she kissing you like that?!" Cora asked, exasperation in her tone.

Jughead swallowed. "That picture… is from eight years ago. Me and Betty… we used to date in high school. This was before her Mom married my Dad. But we broke up long before that."

Cora shoved her phone into her pocket. "Do you ever still think about her like that?"

Jughead knew the truth wasn't going to help his case. "No, of course not. I'm with you. I love you. Why would I be thinking about other girls?"

"Then why did you hide this from me?" Cora asked, her voice becoming accusatory.

Jughead felt his blood beginning to simmer. "I didn't hide it, the topic just never came up!"

"So you're not sharing those parts of your past with me? I told you about every guy I've ever slept with. How many more girls have you been with?"

Nausea rolled in his stomach. "I don't know."

Cora's eyes widened. "What do you mean you don't know? How can you not know?"

"I mean…" Jughead swallowed. "I was drunk a lot of the time when I first moved to New York…"

"Oh my God. All the times my friends told me you were a complete man-whore I defended you. I thought they were exaggerating. But they were right! You just love them and leave them." Tears sprang up into Cora's eyes.

Jughead stepped towards her and reached out for her hands. "No, that's not true… I didn't love those girls, but I love you." He put one of his hands on her shoulder. "You believe me, right?"

She breathed a sad sigh and looked down at the floor. "How many other girls have you slept with that are still in your life?"

Jughead swallowed. "There's this one girl Caitlin… Sam is her agent as well so sometimes we're at the same events."

"I remember Caitlin!" Cora's eyes flashed. "When I told you she was flirting with you last week you brushed me off! But you guys have history! How do you expect me to trust you around her?"

"Because I'm your partner. You're supposed to trust me." His voice sounded more hurt than he intended.

She shook her head. "How can I trust you when I hardly even know about the people in your past?" She wiped away a tear. "Jug, your sexual history becomes my sexual history. I mean, have you ever been tested for STDs? You could have given me something from one of these whores."

Jughead felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Of course I have. Do you really think so low of me?"

"Well you always insist on using condoms even though I'm on the pill. What am I meant to think?"

"That I'm being careful? I know for a fact that the pill isn't always a guarantee. I don't think either of us are ready right now to bring a baby into the world." Especially not while Cora was so distrusting of him and he was so frustrated with her.

Cora started pacing around the living room, and came to a stop in front of Jughead's typewriter. Anxiety tightened in Jughead's chest, but Cora merely turned back towards him with an annoyed expression. "Who else? You have Betty and Caitlin; be honest, because I'll find out if you're lying - who else have you fucked that could be a threat to our relationship?"

"None of them are threats!" Jughead exclaimed. When Cora merely deepened her glare, he sighed. "There's a guy from high school… Kevin. But he's engaged so you really don't need to worry about him."

Cora gasped. "You've slept with a guy?! You have never told me that you were bisexual."

"Because I'm not. And it wasn't just one guy. It was… two." Jughead swallowed. "Now… I don't want you to freak out, because it's not a big deal and we were only together for like, a month…"

But Cora had already jumped to the right conclusion. "You slept with Dean?! Your best friend, the man you spend so much of your free time with? The man who you promised you were just hanging out with?!"

"We do just hang out!"

"How can I believe you Jughead? How am I supposed to sit there and believe that every time you reject my phone calls you're not over at Dean's place and sucking his dick?!"

Jughead's eyes almost fell out of his head. "Cora, you're being crazy!"

Her voice was rising dangerously high. "It's not crazy to worry that my boyfriend is spending so much alone time with his ex!"

"Dean is barely an ex. We're just friends, Cora."

"Well, if I was spending every waking moment with Shane would you not be the slightest bit worried?" Cora's expression pierced Jughead's. "If I didn't call you back, and you knew I was with this hot guy who knows exactly how to get me off, would that not bother you?"

Jughead's head was swimming with a whole oceans-worth of confusing emotions. "Cora, I trust you… why can't you just trust me?"

"I've been cheated on before, Jughead. I can't trust that the person I love isn't going to play up on me, especially when their best friend is their ex. I've been down that road before Jug, and I don't want to relive it again."

"Hey, I… I get that." Jughead said, sympathy replacing the anger. "My ex, Betty… she cheated on me with my best friend." He swallowed. "Sometimes it still hurts…"

He expected Cora to come to the realisation that he did understand how she felt. But instead she said: "Would you still be with Betty if she hadn't cheated on you?"

Jughead paused, stunned by the question. Truthfully, he knew that the answer was yes… and yet, hadn't distance pushed them both apart? Hadn't the pain of losing their baby hardened both of their hearts? Who was to say what could have been different, when the only thing that was certain was that they hadn't worked out?

"I don't know." Tumbled from Jughead's lips.

As was common when it came to his arguments with Cora, it was apparently the wrong thing to say.

"Well, until you know, I'm not comfortable sleeping next to you anymore." She said, and furiously turned around and stalked towards the bedroom door.

"Cora, come on…" Jughead said pleadingly.

"No. I'm worth more than half-assed explanations." She held onto the door frame as she glared at him and then slammed it so hard that the sound rattled through the entire apartment.

Cora gave Jughead the silent treatment for three days, and by the end of it he was desperate for her attention. She ignored him as she cooked herself dinner, and brushed past him when he tried to talk to her in the bathroom. She usually made him feel so loved and valued, but this icy ferocity was making him stressed and nauseated. He didn't want to lose her, and he was desperately craving her affection. Without it, their home was cold and devoid of light.

"Please talk to me." He begged when she came home from work Thursday night. "Please, I miss you. I don't want to keep fighting with you anymore. I'm sorry. I promise I'll tell you everything from now on."

Cora was initially resistant, but by the end of the weekend they had mostly returned to their usual state. Jughead still felt like he was walking on eggshells, but he counted his lucky stars when she finally pulled him into their bedroom…

He was so relieved to be back in her good graces that he didn't argue when she asked him to delete all his pictures of Jess from Instagram. There were only four of them - one shot of the two of them at Graduation, and three candid photos of her in front of scenic views throughout New York. He had the photos saved, and they were more of an artistic capture than an actual sentimental image.

Then a week before Christmas, just as they were discussing when to head to Riverdale, the mild tension that'd lingered after their fight exploded again when he refused to delete his pictures of Betty off of Instagram.

"I'm not going to delete family photos just to prove something to you!" Jughead said furiously.

"Why does it matter so much to you?! If she's really not on your mind anymore and you're completely dedicated to me then you'd get rid of them!" Cora had murderous rage in her eyes as she stalked towards him.

Jughead crossed his arms over his chest. "But one of these pictures is literally a photo with all of our siblings. It's not like I'm sitting here obsessing over her! If you want to be with me you need to accept that she's in my life. We share two brothers, and she's going to be at all our family events."

"But you won't even remove the picture of her kissing your cheek in high school!" Cora was getting emotional, and Jughead could sense that there were going to be tears falling from her eyes once again.

"I shouldn't have to. We used to date, Cora. I can't go back in time and change that."

"You deleted your photos of Jess!"

"That's different."

"How is it different?!"

"Because I don't have to see Jess anymore. She's not even in my life!"

The tears fell, and Jughead had to restrain the urge to roll his eyes. "It's hurting my feelings that you can't just let go of your ex-girlfriend." Cora practically cried. "I have to be in the same room as her knowing that you lost your virginity to her, that you used to share a bed with her! It's embarrassing for me."

"This shouldn't even be an issue! It was ten years ago! I was sixteen!"

"But it is an issue." Cora's expression was pure hurt. "And you don't even care how much this is affecting me."

"I care." Jughead said, his voice thickening. "I care, but I can't just erase my past."

"Would you leave me?" Cora asked, her eyes boring into Jughead's. "If she came crawling back to you, would you leave me and take her back?"

Jughead's heart lurched. "Cora… you can't think like that. We've been together for over a year. We live together. I love you!"

"That wasn't a no." Cora said, her voice flat.

"Cora…" Jughead reached out for her hand, but she pulled it away. "I would never want to throw away what we have."

Cora's expression hardened. "Get out."

Jughead took a step back. "What?"

"Get out!" She shoved his chest. "I don't want you here."

Jughead stumbled, his heart racing. "Cora… don't do this." He moved closer towards her, but she glared and took another step back.

"Get away from me." She stormed into the kitchen and out of his reach. "I need space. To think."

"Think about what?" Jughead felt the words getting caught in his throat.

"Us." Her expression hardened.

Jughead tried to get closer to her. "You're not serious…" His chest was tightening, his breathing becoming laboured.

But Cora's unwavering expression cut him deep. "I am. Go back to Riverdale. And don't try and call me. When I say I need space I mean it."

…

Jughead considered, briefly, staying with Dean for a while until Cora calmed down, but he didn't want to reignite her insecurities about his friendship with yet another ex.

Instead, he arrived in Riverdale almost a week earlier than he intended. His father was surprised, but pleased to see him walking through the door, and ushered him in out of the cold.

"Where's Cora?" FP asked the dreaded question.

"She's…" Jughead swallowed. "She's gone back to Long Island. Wanted to visit her brothers for the holidays." As if on cue, Chandler hurried down the stairs and called out to Jughead. "I can relate to that. Hey little guy." Jughead lifted Chandler into his arms and hugged him tight. "Jeez, kid. You're getting heavy."

Chandler grinned. "Next year I'm gonna be five Juggie! Mommy says I'm going to go to big school!"

"Already?!" Jughead's eyes widened as he turned to look at FP.

"Alice explained kindergarten to him last week. It's the only thing he's been interested in talking about ever since." FP said, amusement and affection in his gaze.

Chandler nodded. "I'm gonna have a backpack at my big school! And lots of books! And a table! And shoelaces. And a pencil case and paints and markers…"

Chandler's enthusiasm provided a welcome distraction. He expressed a desire to show Jughead his new dinosaur figurines, so he followed the small child upstairs to check them out. He noted on the way into Chandler's room that the desk in Jellybean's old room had been replaced with a large bunk bed, and the two quilt covers matched the galaxy print on Jellybean's double bed.

He didn't give it much thought as he followed Chandler's delighted voice and met all of his dinosaurs. Jughead had to hold back a laugh as Chandler handed him a large shark figurine he'd apparently named "Megalodon". Jughead wondered if Charles had anything to do with that…

Later that night, it became apparent Jughead was the first child to return home. Polly wasn't home yet, and so Jughead spent his evening helping Alice entertain the twins and Chandler while FP grilled dinner. It was an early dinner, and Alice headed off to sleep at the same time as the kids; it puzzled Jughead until FP led him outside…

"I was going to call you and let you know before you got here, just so you were aware of what's going on." FP began, his voice tense and awkward.

Jughead lightly elbowed his dad. "You're getting all formal on me Dad?"

He expected FP to laugh, and when he merely sighed, anxiety rose inside Jughead. "Look, Jug… Betty's coming home tomorrow."

Jughead nodded. He was still feeling a little numb post-argument with Cora, and he found that the information didn't bother him. "That's good. How's she doing in Boston?"

FP sat down on the steps leading into the yard and tapped his palm on the step beside him until Jughead nervously sat beside him. "She's not in Boston, Jug… she's at Shady Grove."

The information didn't make sense to Jughead right away, and he struggled to clear his brain of the mind fog. "Do you mean the mental health treatment center?"

FP nodded. "She's been there for three weeks." FP rubbed the back of his head. "There's no easy way to say this, but she tried to kill herself. Twice. "

The statement was so horrific that Jughead almost froze over. "No…"

"She did, Jug." FP said sadly. "She came down after Thanksgiving… and drove her car off the bridge over Sweetwater River. She claimed it was an accident… Alice wanted to believe her, but that same night she overdosed on her antidepressants in her hotel room."

The images in Jughead's imagination were permanently burned into his memory.

"Charles found her." FP said quietly. "None of us really thought she'd done it on purpose… but Charles got in his head that Betty wasn't acting right, didn't seem all that scared about the 'accident'. He kicked down her door. If it weren't for him, Jug…" he couldn't finish the sentence, but Jughead could read between the lines. If Charles hadn't sensed there was something wrong… then Betty would be dead. "She was in a coma for two days. No brain damage, thankfully. I would have called you earlier, but… that's not really something anyone wants to hear over the phone."

Jughead swallowed, suddenly feeling completely ill.

"She's not allowed back at work until she's gone through proper psychiatric treatment, and her doctor at Shady Grove wants her on suicide watch until further notice. Only reason they're letting her out is she's got a home to go to; otherwise she'd be spending Christmas in a straight jacket." FP nodded his head towards the door. "That's why Alice went to bed - she wants to go and pick Betty up as early as possible."

Jughead was still obsessing over a mental picture of Betty lying lifeless in a hospital bed when FP's voice cut through his conscious mind.

"Do you know if Betty can break into combination locks?" He asked.

"Huh?" Jughead asked, then his brain caught up. "Um, I don't think so. Not unless it has a key."

"Good." FP nodded, a determined expression on his face. "If you don't mind, I wanted to just check I've got all the knives and razors out of the house. Could you give me a hand with checking everything out? Oh, and if you have any boots that don't have laces, maybe start wearing those…"

…

There were several disturbing new features of the Elm Street house that'd gone over Jughead's head when he first stepped through the doors which now stood out like a high vis traffic cone.

For instance, anything sharp was gone from the kitchen. The family were all using plastic cutlery and plates - anything glass had been locked away in the garage which was now locked shut with a dial combination that reminded Jughead of his old high school locker. Everything from Juniper's skipping ropes to Alice's longer necklaces were gone; holed up out of reach from anyone feeling particularly suicidal.

Betty looked terrible.

Jughead didn't think she could get any skinnier, but she'd somehow lost even more weight since he'd last seen her over a year previously. The bunk beds in Jellybean's room finally revealed their purpose when on the first night she spent home Alice slept in the bedroom with her.

Between the hovering of her diligent and stressed sister and mother, there wasn't a single time that Betty was left alone in the house. Alice quietly gave Betty her medication throughout the day, and kept it stashed in her handbag that seemed permanently glued to Alice's arm. Jughead thought that surely being watched like a misbehaving toddler couldn't be good for anyone's mental health, and yet Betty's dull and emotionless expression didn't change at all over the week leading up to Christmas.

It was like living with a ghost.

Things changed slightly when Jellybean came home. Britta was visiting her parents in Sweden, so Jellybean came alone - a fact she seemed dramatically sad about.

"I haven't talked to her for six hours." Jellybean sighed tragically as she handed Jughead a plastic mug filled with hot cocoa. She settled in to the couch beside him, and took a look a long swig of her own drink. "You got any Hennessy hiding in your backpack? I wouldn't mind making this cocoa Irish if you know what I mean."

"All the alcohol is locked in the garage." Jughead deadpanned.

Jellybean frowned. "I just got the most depressing lecture on Earth from Dad and Alice. Do they seriously expect me to keep an eye on my kamikaze-inclined roommate sober?"

Jughead grimaced. "I think that's the general idea, JB."

Jellybean huffed. "They're going a bit extreme on this suicide watch thing, don't you think?"

"Conditions of Shady Grove's doctors, I heard." Jughead swallowed a gulp of his cocoa. It burned his tongue, but he hardly felt it. "She has scars all up her arm, JB…"

"I know." Jellybean frowned. "What do they think she's going to do, break the bottle of her expensive Vodka and use the shards to slit her wrists? What a waste of alcohol."

"JB…" Jughead groaned.

"I'm sorry." Jellybean said as she slumped in her seat. "I know, keep the dark humour to myself. That was in Dad's lecture. But come on, bro, you know I don't handle these kinds of situations well."

Jughead was spared from answering when he heard the slow footsteps of someone cautiously venturing down the staircase.

Jughead's stomach was in knots when Betty's face appeared at the base.

Jellybean's voice became over-enthusiastic. "Hey." She said awkwardly. "How was your, um… shower?"

Betty's eyebrows raised for a moment before her face settled into the emotionless void that was ever-present. "Fine." She said, and then surprised them both by sitting at the other end of the couch beside Jughead. "Mom was right outside the door the whole time, but she let me close it completely tonight, so… more privacy than they gave me at Shady Grove."

Jughead's heart hurt. "Must be better to be home now." He said, nervously playing with a loose strand on his pillow.

Betty shrugged and looked down at the floor.

"So, um…" Jellybean said. "Do you want some cocoa? I can put mint syrup in it… or we can watch a movie?"

"Sure." Betty said, her voice unchanging.

Jellybean gave Jughead a wide-eyed look as she headed off into the kitchen. Jughead swallowed and tried to come up with something to say to Betty… anything that'd get rid of the gaunt look on her face.

"What if we crack open one of Chandler's puzzles? He has one that our grandpa sent him that's kind of out his age range, but it has a cool T-Rex on it." He said, trying to sound optimistic. "It's wearing sunglasses."

Betty didn't look up. "Okay."

They spread the pieces out across the table. Jellybean didn't stop talking about the engineering qualities of puzzles as they matched the edges to the corners and tried to formulate the image. Jughead cracked a few light hearted jokes about dinosaurs, and his heart fluttered when he saw the smallest twitch of Betty's lips.

Christmas that year was a strange affair.

Jughead tried calling Cora, but she didn't answer, and he had to force his sadness back as he folded up his blanket and left it neatly on the arm of the couch. He spent the day with the over-excited children in the family, and Polly and Alice tried unsuccessfully to get Betty involved in their conversations. There was a lot more soup this year, and only a few selections of foods that required plastic knives. The kids seemed immune to the somber mood of the adults, and their joyful energy was the only reprieve from the anxiety felt by all.

It was the morning after Christmas that Jughead finally got to talk to Betty without the watchful ears of her mother.

"Yesterday was good, right?" Jughead asked her as he brewed coffee in the kitchen.

Betty sat perched on a bar stool as she watched Jughead meandering through the room. "The kids had fun." She all but forced out. "That's the important thing."

"Yeah…" Jughead agreed. "I think it's important that we were all here together, too, right?" He looked at Betty over his shoulder. "It's been a while since it was just the family. We're all getting so old… everyone has different lives." Betty's eyes dropped down to the counter and Jughead focused back on the coffee pot. "But, you know… we're all still able to come back here and be together. We have some good moments."

"Don't do that." Betty said, her voice clipped.

Jughead frowned and turned back to look at her. Her expression was annoyed - not a great emotion, but at least proof that she was still capable of feeling. "Do what?" He asked.

Betty sighed. "Try and sell me on how great it is to be alive." She said, her voice filled with pain. "My Mom, Polly, Jellybean… even FP keep trying to drop not-so-subtle reminders that the world is great and they're so happy I'm still in it." She shook her head. "If I was thinking about how happy the world was, I wouldn't have done it."

"Why did you do it?" Jughead slipped out before he could think it through.

Betty looked up at him. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Jughead couldn't hold back the emotion that threatened to swallow him whole. "You drove your car off of a bridge and you can't think why?"

Betty's eyes flashed with something - maybe anger, or fear? Jughead couldn't tell before her expression went back to remaining blank. "I wasn't thinking clearly. I was just… tired. So tired of feeling so… depressed. Of always being scared… and lonely." She swallowed, and Jughead thought he saw tears shimmering in her expression.

His heart started racing faster. "Betty… nobody wants you to die." She looked away from him, but he walked closer to stand in front of her. "Everyone in this house loves you. We all care about you. If you were gone…" Jughead paused before his words suffocated him. "There'd be a piece missing. Nothing could ever fix that. Nothing could ever numb the pain of never seeing you again."

A tear slid down her cheek, but her expression didn't change as she said: "I think about hurting people."

Jughead's insides froze as he processed her words. "What?"

"I think about hurting people." She said, her voice sounding more determined. "When I'm doing surveillance on suspects; evil men who we can't prove have murdered, raped, tortured their victims and dumped them out into the cold like they're less than garbage… I think about it." She breathed heavily. "I think about trapping them in a box somewhere and making them hurt the way they've made their victims hurt. I want them to feel the same pain they've inflicted on the people whose last thoughts were that they were going to die and there was nothing they could do to stop it." Her face was hardening, and there was a deep panic in her eyes as she stared at Jughead. "And it's not just a passing thought… there was a serial killer back in Boston who we were watching. We finally had him caught, but there wasn't enough evidence to hold him so we had to let him free… and he offended again. He took another victim - a young girl, named Lana, she was only fourteen - but we couldn't prove it… so over Thanksgiving I hunted him down, and I found him. It was… it was almost too late." Her hands were shaking, and she clenched them into fists. "I got her out, and I called for backup."

"Betty…"

"She's going to testify against him." Betty said. "He's going to go to prison for the rest of his miserable life. But there was a moment, when I had him crouched in front of me, begging me not to shoot him… that I almost pulled the trigger anyway."

"What stopped you?" Jughead asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" She asked, confusion overtaking her features.

"When you thought about killing him, why didn't you?" He kept his face neutral.

Betty paused and considered his questions. "I guess… Lana had seen enough horror to last her a lifetime, and I didn't want to add seeing someone shot to the list of things she's going to have to explain to her therapist."

Jughead walked closer to Betty and stood merely inches away from her. "So maybe a part of you…" he said cautiously, hoping he wasn't about to push her further away from him. "Thought that there was still hope for Lana. That whatever happened to her wasn't going to ruin her life." He swallowed, and reached out to take Betty's hand in his own. "That maybe one day… she'll get better."

Betty's eyes, wet with tears, stared into Jughead's. "I've killed before…" Her voice was quiet, but Jughead heard every word. "I killed… TBK. I… cut his head off with a chainsaw." Her breathing came out in gasps. "Juggie, I cut off his head. I murdered him!"

"No, no you didn't." Without overthinking it, he wrapped his arms around her. She sobbed quietly into his shoulder, and Jughead held her tighter. "It wasn't murder. That was self defense. You stopped him from killing you. Just like you stopped that serial killer in Boston from killing Lana." He rubbed her back slowly, and her sobbing turned into quieter, breathier cries.

"What if I don't stop next time." She mumbled into his shirt.

Jughead swallowed back his own sob. "Is this why you tried to kill yourself? Because you're scared you're going to hurt someone?"

Betty stayed silent for a long time. "I don't really remember, but… maybe."

Jughead pulled back, and brought one hand up to the side of Betty's face. "You're a good person, Betty. A strong person. You're not a killer. But…" He took in a deep breath. "You need to get help. You can't just bottle up thoughts like this, you need to talk to someone."

"It's so…" she sniffled, and her hand gripped Jughead's waist. "It's so hard to talk about this."

"Have you talked to anyone since you moved to Boston? A therapist? Counsellor? Friend?" He searched her eyes. "Anyone?"

Betty shook her head slowly. "I told a psychiatrist that I was feeling down all the time… he gave me antidepressants, but I never went back. I thought the pills were helping me…"

Jughead sighed. "You need to keep talking to him. Or if you don't feel comfortable with him, find another psychologist, someone who's worked with people who have PTSD." He moved the hand off of her face and placed it on her back. "And if you ever feel like driving off a bridge again… you could talk to me?"

Betty frowned. "I don't want to drag you into my mess."

Jughead shook his head. "You're not. I'm offering. Because if you killed yourself Betty… the whole world would be a darker place."

Betty's eyes were watery again and she leaned back into his chest. He squeezed her lightly and rested his head on top of her hair. His whole body was swirling with differing, warring emotions, but among them was a feeling of relief; Betty was opening up to him, she was crying, and even though he hated to see her cry… he hated seeing her feeling nothing even more.

Her breathing slowed, and the crying stopped, but Betty left her head against his chest, and Jughead didn't make any moves to remove her. She was warm, in his arms, and he felt calmer as he relaxed into her embrace.

And then the phone rang.

Jughead groaned as he manoeuvred his hand into his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Cora 3 flash across his screen. He muted the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. He was in no mood to talk to her, especially not now.

Betty eventually moved back and smiled at him. She let out a single laugh and wiped her eyes. "I think your coffee's gone cold."

He chuckled. "Easily fixed. You ever had reheated coffee before? I feel like it adds flavour."

Betty laughed, and the sound made Jughead's heart flutter in his chest. "Why don't you just remake it?"

"And waste all this perfectly marinated caffeine? No way, Cooper. I'm about to rock your world."

Betty snorted. "Well, you've always been good at that so…"

Jughead's eyebrows rose as he looked back at her, but she was avoiding his gaze, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. Jughead couldn't hold in the small laugh that escaped as he poured the mediocre coffee into two mugs. As he placed the mugs into the microwave, he idly wondered if the plastic would melt.

Then his phone rang again.

"Do you need to get that?" Betty asked.

Jughead sighed. "Probably. Bitch kicked me out of our home, and yet if I don't answer her phone calls I'm the one who ends up in trouble…" He was so focussed on glaring down at his phone that he missed the concerned expression on Betty's face. "Cora. So nice of you to finally try and to talk to me. I have half a mind to block your number—"

"No, please, Jughead, don't hang up." Cora said, her voice sounding frantic.

Jughead paused, most of his frustration moulding itself into worry. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"No." She breathed out, and Jughead realised that she was crying. "I'm not okay. I need you to come home."

Jughead's face fell. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened yet. But soon… way too soon something will. Please, can you just come home?"

"I'm not playing these mind games with you. Just tell me what happened, stop trying to dodge my questions—"

"I'm pregnant!" She burst out, her voice shaking.

Jughead couldn't breathe. "What?" He choked out, his lungs letting out the few remaining puffs of oxygen.

"I'm. Pregnant." She practically growled. "Is that too difficult for you to understand? Do you need me to say it in Spanish?"

Jughead caught his breath. "No. God." He leaned back and gripped the side of the sink for support. "I don't understand. How did this happen? I thought… but we were being careful…"

"Well clearly not careful enough!" She shrieked. "Come home, Jug. I need you here right now. We need to figure out what to do!"

"Cora, I'm…" Jughead couldn't pick an emotion. Scared? Terrified? Nauseated? "I need time…"

"Time?! You want time? Jughead we don't have time!" Her voice was hysterical, and every syllable felt like a stab in the gut. "If it's time you need, then by all means. You can call me back some time, maybe when I'm suing you for child support, you disrespectful, inconsiderate asshole!"

She hung up.

Jughead held the phone up to his ear for a moment longer, his insides freezing over and boiling inside him at the same time. He pulled the phone away and looked down at the screen. She'd really just ended their conversation with a threat. It was wrong, it felt wrong. Everything with her was spiralling out of control… this wasn't the time to have a baby.

"You need to go." Betty said seriously.

Jughead jumped and almost dropped his phone. He'd been so consumed with Cora that he had completely forgotten Betty was in the kitchen with him.

"Back home." Betty continued. "I could hear her screaming at you… I know you guys might not be in a great place right now, but you need to go back to her… even if it's just to figure out where you both stand." Her eyes looked glassy, and she closed them for a moment before she looked back up at him. "If she's having your baby… you can't abandon her. She needs you right now… trust me, I know how that feels." Her voice was thick as she abruptly closed her mouth.

Jughead walked back towards her. "Betty…" What could he say? He couldn't even get a grasp on his own emotions, let alone hers. "This isn't…" This isn't what I wanted. This isn't how I imagined my life going. He thought.

I wish this baby was yours…

Betty reached out and took his hand. "It's going to work out, okay?" She gave him a small, sad smile.

"What about you?" Jughead forced out. "I don't want to leave you right now."

"You can't think like that." Betty squeezed his hand. "You can't stay here with me when you have a child to consider. That's not how it works… you have to go back to New York." She swallowed. "I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Jughead asked, his mind racing.

"No." She admitted, then smirked. "But I have Mom, and Polly… and there's not a single thing in this house I can use to hurt myself with." She squeezed his hand again. "And if I have to go back to Shady Grove… I will."

"You can call me." Jughead said. "I meant that; if you're ever in trouble again, you can call me and I'll be there for you."

Betty smiled and stood up. She opened her arms up and pulled him towards her. He sank into her embrace, and she whispered into his ear: "You're going to be a good father."

It was the only thing keeping Jughead from emotionally crumbling as he made the drive back to New York. Back to Cora. Back to his… baby.

If he'd known what was yet to come, maybe he would have held onto Betty for just a little longer.