Author's note: *Tosses this chapter at you guys and runs*

Betty was shaking. Jughead saw it as he watched her from his peripheral. Emma had taken on the task to drive the car with Sweet Pea in the front seat and Betty and Jughead in the back. Ethel had been taken to a cell with strict instructions for two-three guards watching her round the clock. The adrenalin finally seemed to wear off Betty and she was shaking. Jughead hated every bit of pain that she was in.

Pulling up at her apartment, Emma put the car into park and turned to look at first Jughead, then Betty. Her expression crumpled into concern as she saw the look on her friend's face. "Betty…"

Jughead unbuckled his seatbelt first, then Betty's, before shaking his head at Emma. "I got it, thanks, Emma." He got out of the car and went around to Betty's side, opening the door and picking her up and out of the car. He could now feel her trembling form against his and fuck, he had half a mind to put a bullet into Ethel himself. Carrying Betty into her apartment after unlocking the door, he kicked it closed and carried her into her bedroom. Setting her down onto her bed gently, he crouched down in front of her.

"Can I get you changed into something comfortable, baby?" Jughead asked, voice hushed. He watched as Betty looked down at her outfit before nodding slowly and pointing a shaking hand to her drawer that he knew held her sweatpants and t-shirts she wore when she wanted to be as comfortable as possible. He kissed her forehead tenderly, squeezing both of her knees before going to get her the clothes she nonverbally asked for.

Getting the sweats he had seen her in the most, his hands paused on one of his old t-shirts she had worn more often than not after a night together in high school. He picked it up without a moment's hesitation and headed back to her. "Arms up, baby."

She complied, almost on autopilot, and he tried not to let it worry him how she was just going through the motions at this point. He slipped her shirt off before sliding his own over her and then repeated the process with her jeans and the sweatpants. Finally, he tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at her.

"Can I get you anything?" Jughead asked, quietly. She licked her lips, nodded slowly once more.

"Tea, please," she whispered, and his heart clenched. Dropping a gentle kiss to her lips and pleased that she responded to it, telling him she was still of sound mind, he smiled as he pulled back.

"Of course, sweetheart. Just -," he paused as he rearranged her limbs in her bed and pulled the covers around her, tucking her in. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, okay?" The last bit was a whisper from himself as well. He needed to assure himself she wasn't going to run off – something she was known to do when her emotions were too overwhelming for her to handle. He didn't want her to ever think she needed to deal with them on her own.

Her eyes softened as she looked at him and agreed quietly. He cupped her jaw as he kissed her once more before heading out of the room to go make the tea she asked for. Starting the kettle for a boil, he leaned against the kitchen counter as he waited, running his hands through his hair. "Fuck."

Ethel had no idea what she had just done. He wasn't necessarily referring to her murdering Polly – he knew she was aware of that – but he meant what she had done in regard to Jughead. She had hurt the only woman he had ever loved – even when they weren't talking. To find out that she not only killed her sister but knew about Betty's kidnapping in the first place…Jughead was going to get a vindictive pleasure in watching Betty tear her a part. He wasn't going to stop her, either. It was her show now.

The kettle whistled and he hurried to catch it, lest the sound irritated the headache he knew his partner undoubtedly had. Sinking her favorite teabag into the mug he had poured the water into; he took a moment longer to make sure he was ready to help her – to not let his own emotions cloud his ability to be who he needed to for her in that moment. In all honesty, he wanted nothing more than to put a bullet into Ethel and call it a done day. He couldn't, however. That was Betty's right, if she chose to end up handling things that way. And, despite wishing his love didn't have to be a killer, he knew they were not children anymore. Hadn't been for a long time. Life hardened people – or, fucked them up.

Walking back into her room, he saw her in the same position; eyes staring at her ceiling with a haunted look in them. He shuddered but appreciated she wasn't pushing down her emotions and letting herself feel at least something. Anything that she could. He sat down on the edge of her bed and handed her the mug of tea with a quiet, "here, baby". He watched as she wrapped her hands around the mug, leaning in for a sip before her face crumpled and she cried around the mug. Fuck you, Ethel Muggs, fuck you.

"Oh, baby," he said softly, hurrying to take his jeans and shirt off, leaving him clad in his boxers as he climbed into her bed and pulled her against his chest, carding his fingers through her hair.

"I-I am s-sorry," she stuttered out, but he hushed her.

"Don't you dare apologize to me, Betty Cooper. Especially not for having a human reaction, baby. Cry," he whispered, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her spine in a repetitive motion. "Cry for as long as you need. You will not scare me off. I'd be scared if you weren't crying."

His attempt at small humor worked as Betty laughed wetly. She didn't stop crying, however. Her small frame shook in his arms and he held on just the tighter, anchoring her into him as he reminded her that he was there and that she was okay.

"She said my name, Juggie," Betty whispered, and he frowned, not sure what she was referring to, but she continued. "Polly. The name she said on her last breath was mine. She did cry out for me. My sister wanted me there and I wasn't there. I didn't protect her from that sick fuck. I should have left her ass in Sisters."

Jughead looked up at the ceiling as he felt his eyes smart in response for his love's pain. It was a natural reaction for the two of them – when one was in pain, the other felt it tenfold. She cried with him the night after Gladys left. She had held him and whispered that it was okay. That she wasn't going anywhere and that he had every right to the pain he felt.

"Baby," he murmured, voice catching as he gathered her closer, dropping kisses to the top of her head as her body shook. "I'm so sorry. God, you have no idea how sorry I am."

It was quiet for a few minutes before Betty spoke up. "I do, though."

He looked at her as she turned around in his arms, letting him link his fingers against her lower back so she couldn't escape his hold of safety.

"I was the exact same amount of apologetic the night I confessed about the kiss as you are now," she whispered, fingers brushing against his lips. His heart. It hurt. To think she thought these two events were the same in the slightest broke him a small bit. Perhaps she saw his confusion – or his pain – and continued. "I am not saying kissing Archie is the same as Polly being murdered because it isn't. But, the one person who was supposed to always be on your side hurt you. In a way that was awful. So, yeah, the pain you felt has to mirror the pain I feel, on some level."

He swallowed, looking into her tired eyes that held years of exhaustion. "I don't think you've been taken care of in a long time, baby." It didn't seem enough of a sentence to settle on, but it felt like the right thing to say in the moment. The best thing about Jughead and Betty was that they had always been able to understand each other on a level that went past communication. It didn't seem like it had disappeared in the years the were a part – just had become dormant, perhaps – because Betty's haunted eyes finally became tender as she gifted him with a smile.

"Back at you, love," she whispered, brushing her nose against his before kissing him and finishing her tea. "I'm tired, Jug."

Her voice was child-like in its' whisper and he tucked her underneath his chin.

"Then sleep, honey," he murmured. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?" Betty asked softly, and he nodded, pressing a firm kiss to her head.

"Always."

Author's note: Enjoy a lil fluff Xxx