Is Hiram Lodge exploiting Riverdale's most vulnerable?

By Juniper Cooper

Hiram Lodge has done it again.

If you're wondering what the 'it' is, then you're probably just as jaded to his alleged wrongdoings as this writer.

In the interest of brevity, I'll defer to the most recent information. Let's face the facts:

Two low-income apartment buildings on the South Side have been demolished in the last month.
The mayor's office cited their reasons for this demolition as 'an infestation of rats'.
81% of the apartments' residents are in the lowest income bracket in Riverdale.
The remainder of those residents are children under the age of 15.
Nine small businesses have been shut down due to bankruptcy in the last six months.
Many of the employees of these businesses were residents of the demolished apartment buildings.

In an independent report funded by the Andrews Community Center, statistics have been released which indicate that since these town-owned apartment buildings were demolished, homelessness on the South Side has increased by 18%. Hiram Lodge authorised the destruction of his citizen's homes, and seemingly had no plan to house the displaced residents of these apartments.

Where are the other 75% of these residents, you may be wondering?

The short answer: Lodge Detention Center.

Since the demolition of the apartment buildings two months ago, and the consistent shut-down of business on the South Side, there have been thirty three children placed in foster care throughout Riverdale and neighbouring towns. Almost half of these children were voluntarily surrendered by parents who are now homeless and too financially disadvantaged to continue caring for them. The remaining children were forcibly removed from parents who have either become homeless as a direct result of the apartments' demolition, or who have been imprisoned.

Jughead frowned as he read through Juniper's latest hit piece on Hiram Lodge. She'd certainly listened to his suggestion that she remove speculation and focus on the facts. He made a note to check on her sources for the information on foster care children, and continued reading…

Through my own personal investigation, I have discovered that most of the displaced South Side apartment residents have been arrested and imprisoned at the Lodge Detention Center. Solicitation of both drugs and sex appears to be the main grounds for arrest on the South Side, and that stat has only increased in recent weeks.

Jughead backspaced the personalised elements of Juniper's statements and rewrote them to seem more vague. The last thing he needed was anyone going after his niece for getting too involved in her latest investigation.

With crime and homelessness in Riverdale on the rise, the question some may have is: what is our mayor doing about it?

I postulate this theory: Hiram Lodge is encouraging it.

How, you may be wondering? By systematically ensuring that our town's most disadvantaged citizens have no choice but to turn to crime just to put food on the table and then punishing them for it.

Jobs in Riverdale's North and South Sides are slim pickings. The gated community of SoDale has job listings - ranging from hospitality work to security maintenance - but according to policies enforced by the mayor, only the residents of SoDale are eligible to apply.

The people of Riverdale who aren't already employed have no choice but to resort to dealing drugs and selling sex just to afford to survive. It has been this way, arguably, for over a decade.

But recently, the rate of arrests and imprisonments in Riverdale has increased dramatically. 65% of first time offenders have been put behind bars in the last two years. 100% of Riverdale's residents who have been caught committing a second offence have been imprisoned. Current juvenile convictions are the highest in Riverdale's history.

All of these inmates are currently locked inside the walls of Lodge Detention Center.

Could Hiram Lodge be cracking down so hard on petty crime in a bid to gain more inmates to work for him? I would argue that it is highly suspicious that Lodge Rum is produced through what can only be described as prison slave labor—

Jughead jolted back in surprise as a ball bounced across his keyboard. He couldn't collect himself in time to catch the ball and prevent it from crashing against his coffee mug. Thankfully, only a small amount spilled over the edge as the table shook.

The high pitched squeals of his two year old rang in his ear, followed by a sheepish "uh-oh" that sounded like his son.

"Jordan." Jughead grumbled.

"Sorry, Dad!" Jordan replied loudly, then ran to catch the ball before Emma could reach it.

Emma giggled as she chased after Jordan, who dodged her effortlessly and grinned.

Jughead's eyes followed both the kids, but he spoke directly to Jordan. "Take the ball outside, Bud. And no running in the house."

Jordan raised the ball triumphantly in the air. "Got your back, Jack." He said happily, then side-stepped his little sister to hurry out of the back door.

Jughead shook his head in reluctant amusement and used his sleeve to wipe up the slight coffee spill. The liquid seeped into the fabric, both warming and cooling his wrist concurrently.

"Jug, Juggie, you're gonna stain your shirt." Betty's exasperated voice cut into his thoughts.

"It adds character." Jughead quipped as he lifted his head to look at her.

Betty pulled out a chair and sat down beside him, Bethany calmly resting in her lap. "This isn't working." Betty noted.

Jughead tilted his head. "What isn't?"

"This." Betty responded, indicating to the stacks of paperwork strewn across the dinner table, threatening to engulf Jughead's MacBook. "There are too many little distractions running around for either of us to focus on the Register. It's cutting into our publishing schedule."

As if to prove Betty's point, Bethany reached down and retrieved the paper closest to her. She waved it in her hand and babbled - Betty rescued the sheet just before Bethany stuffed it into her mouth.

Jughead groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "What do you suggest we do? We'll be up all night if we start working on the Register after the kids are asleep."

Betty smiled. "I am so glad you asked." She said casually, then stood up and settled Bethany onto her hip. "Because I have come up with a brilliant solution. Come on, I'll lead the way."

Jughead's lips twitched in amusement as he rose to his feet and followed her curiously into the hallway. The distant echo of Jordan and Emma's giggles floated in from the backyard, filling him momentarily with warmth.

Betty stopped in front of Bethany's bedroom door and looked at him expectantly.

Jughead raised his eyebrows. "Ahhh… you want me to start editing the Register from Beth's room?" He smirked. "Not sure I'll be able to fit in her crib."

"No, Juggie." Betty let out an exasperated laugh. "I propose we turn her room into an office, and move her things into Emma's bedroom." She pushed open the door and indicated to the room at large. "We can't keep running the Riverdale Register from our kitchen table. Besides, you can barely get any work done on your books while the kids are awake. And I am sick of bringing my case files into the bedroom with us."

"I don't mind working out in the open…"

"I know you don't, but you have to admit that the kids are distracting. Wouldn't it be nice to have some space dedicated to work? I honestly think it'll increase both our productivity - when we're not only giving half our attention to work, we'll be able to get things done faster and spend more time with the kids." She looked up at him hopefully. "And then I won't be stressing that Jordan will get into my case files and read something that'll scar him for life. I don't really enjoy hiding them in our room to read before bed." The hope turned to a pleading expression. "My therapist thinks I need to start separating my work life from my personal life. And I think you would benefit from having a dedicated writing zone."

Jughead could read between the lines. Betty was an organiser. She could put things in categories and lock them away in the filing cabinet inside her brain - but even so, nothing killed the mood in the bedroom like reading through gruesome murder cases. And if her therapist wanted her to start categorising things in the physical world…

Jughead sighed. "It would be nice to have somewhere I can grade essays without risking a coffee spill from a stray ball…"

Betty's smile widened. She took a step into the bedroom and spoke, her voice charged with energy: "Yes! That too. There's enough room in here for us to have our own desks - we can put up another bookshelf as well so you don't have to keep hiding all your thrift store finds under our bed," Jughead blushed, "and we can train the kids to understand if Mom and Dad are in the office, they need to keep out of it."

Jughead nodded and walked further into the bedroom. "I like the idea, Betts. But I do feel a little guilty turning this into an office and forcing the girls to share a bedroom…"

Betty reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "That is not something you need to feel bad about. I can almost guarantee once Beth's a bit older, the girls would have wanted to share a room anyway." Betty smirked. "Besides, Beth is sleeping through the night, and she'll be in a toddler bed before we know it."

Jughead pursed his lips and ran his fingers over Bethany's golden locks. "No, surely not our little baby. She's going to be in a crib forever… aren't you?" He lowered his voice and smiled at Bethany as she grinned up at him.

Betty nudged Jughead's side with her shoulder. "This is a good idea, Juggie." Betty reaffirmed encouragingly.

Jughead had to admit he agreed with her.

…

Jughead dismissed his senior class a full five minutes before the bell rang. He wasn't necessarily trying to be the 'cool' teacher, but he was fully aware that the Bulldogs had an important game that afternoon against the Stonewall Stallions. Call him nostalgic (or vengeful) but he wanted to make sure Riverdale High's football team had enough time to get their head in that game.

A few students called out with different variations of "Thanks, Mr Jones" and Jughead smiled as he waved them off. As he started packing up his laptop and paperwork, he wondered if he should text Juniper to remind her he wanted to see her after class.

He was saved from taking action when she hurried inside the classroom exactly seven seconds after the bell rang, her red hair slightly dishevelled and her chest heaving in tandem with her shaky breaths.

"Juniper." Jughead smiled as he looked up at her. "God, did you sprint here?"

"Yep." She gasped out. She placed a hand on her hip and leaned against the nearest desk. "Gotta… hurry… cheer practice."

"I won't keep you long then." Jughead said warmly. "You have no idea how badly I want to see Dagwood beating Stonewall Prep. Those Bulldogs can do with all the Cheer Spirit you ladies can give them."

Juniper stood up straighter, her eyes widened and her mouth started to curl upwards. "You guys are coming tonight?!" She gasped out.

"Yeah, didn't your Mom tell you?"

"No!" She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. "Oh my God, I'm so excited." She said, her voice no longer plagued with breathlessness.

"Well, glad to hear it." Jughead laughed. "Okay, let me get to the point so you can run off and use all that energy to fire the team up." Juniper snickered as Jughead sat back against a desk. "So, I liked your article."

"You did?" Somehow, Juniper's eyes got even wider. "Awesome! Do you think… are you going to publish it in the Register?"

"I want to." Jughead said honestly. "I do, honestly. Before I even consider it though, I need to edit out some parts. Not all the information, mainly just your personal involvement in gathering it. I'm not trying to take away from your investigation, but I also don't want to put a target on your back."

Juniper pulled a face. "I don't care if there's a target on my back. What's he gonna do? Sue me? You can't sue a minor."

"He could sue me for publishing your work." Jughead shook his head. "I'm not worried about that, though. I'm worried about you getting hurt."

"Why would I get hurt? I'm only speaking the truth."

Jughead sighed. "Hiram Lodge is a dangerous man, Juni."

"He's a fiend." Juniper said gruffly, her face screwing up with annoyance. There was a darker glint in her eyes that was brewing, and Jughead wondered just how deep Juniper's hatred of Hiram Lodge ran. "He can't just get away with what he's doing to people."

Jughead swallowed "He won't. The FBI are onto him, alright? They already arrested him… it's just a matter of time before he gets put away." Jughead stood up properly. "Which is actually why I wanted to ask you… where exactly did you get your information?"

Some of the tension left Juniper's face as she raised her eyebrows. "Oh! Well, I talked to Mom a bit; she's been working with a lot of the homeless teens who live on Sketch Alley." She said in a rush. "Plus… I got all the statistics from the report the Community Center commissioned." Her eyes shifted nervously and she bit her lip for a moment before smoothing her expression into cool nonchalance.

Jughead tilted his head to the side. "Is that all you did?"

Juniper shifted on her feet. "Well… I may have gone down to the truck stop…"

"Juniper."

"I know! I know: it's rough down there." She waved her hand dismissively. "But this is an important story! The public needs to know about what Hiram Lodge is doing."

Jughead sighed again (it was the only way to withhold his groan). "I agree with you, Juni. But I don't want to hear about you wandering off on your own into the center of the drug trade to get information for the Register. Or the Blue and Gold, for that matter."

"I didn't go alone. Dagwood came with me."

"That's not the point."

A suspicious look came over her face. "No offence, Uncle Jug, but didn't you and Aunt Betty start doing murder investigations when you were fifteen?"

Jughead leaned back against the desk again. "Yes. Which is why I know that getting entangled in this stuff is dangerous."

Juniper frowned and looked at her feet. "I'm not sorry."

Jughead shrugged. "You don't have to be." Juniper looked up at him hopefully. "But, I do want you to tell me the names of the people you spoke to."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"Because…" Jughead said cautiously. "I think you may have found something that could be very important to the FBI's investigation."

"Really?" The excitement was back. "Which part? I can go back and find out more—"

"No. Juni, you did good - but that's enough. I don't want you getting involved any more than you already have." Jughead said determinedly. "And I know that you know your Mom would have a heart attack if she heard you and Dagwood were walking around sketchy areas of the South Side on your own." Juniper's cheeks turned pink. "So, you tell me some names, and I'll give them to your aunt and she'll look into it."

Juniper looked back down at the ground. "I really want to help…"

"I know you do. And I get what it feels like when it seems that all the adults around town aren't doing enough to bring justice to the people hurting your town. Your family. Especially Hiram Lodge." Jughead said softly. "But I promise… the FBI really are doing everything they can to put him away."

"Okay…" Juniper grumbled. "I'll give you all the info I found from the truck stop tomorrow."

"Thank you." Jughead straightened and walked closer to her. "You really did a great job with that article. If it get's Betty's approval, I'll publish it as soon as possible. I'm certain the people of Riverdale will appreciate how much work you put into it."

A small smile and a tiny flicker of pure joy made its way onto Juniper's face.

…

Jughead located Sweet Pea's hand, slightly raised over the heads of those who sat around him in the crowd of blue and yellow.

"Third row, Betts." Jughead leaned to his left to say the words in Betty's ear. He barely even heard himself over the bustling noise of the spectators in the bleachers.

Betty's eyes scanned the crowd. "Yep, I see them. Jordy, look, River's here." Betty nodded her head, and Jordan's neck craned up to try and spot the girl in question.

Jughead caught Toni giving him a small wave. She sat beside Sweet Pea, a toddler nestled in her lap - though from this far back Jughead couldn't tell whether it was Maya or Marjorie. Beside them, Cheryl's face was partially blocked with the body of the other twin, who stood up on her lap and reached her hands forward as though she was going to grab onto one of the cheerleader's puffy pom poms. River and Blossom were seated, too, their hair held up in pigtails by large blue and yellow ribbons, looking every bit the supportive cousins they were.

During the Jones family's ascent of the stairs, Jughead turned to face the cheerleaders below them and lifted Bethany's hand up to mimic waving motions to Juniper. Juniper kept her focus on her dance routine, but grinned widely in their direction.

"Where's your better half?" Jughead asked Sweet Pea once all their greetings were out of the way.

Sweet Pea nodded his head in the direction of the school building. "She took the girls to the bathroom. Which is, in fact, Azalea's third bathroom break of the hour." A smirk came over his face. "I'm convinced the kid just likes playing with the hand dryer."

Jughead snickered as he took a seat a few spots down from Sweet Pea. Sage was sitting quietly on his father's lap, his eyes closed and his head resting against Sweet Pea's chest. "Too much excitement for him, hey?" Jughead mused.

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. "He can sleep through an entire football game, but if I try and make toast in the middle of the night…"

Jughead laughed. He leaned forward to check on Betty's progress with their older kids. Jordan was settled into his seat beside River, but it appeared Emma still needed a pep talk. The little girl was frowning and crossed her arms over her chest, and Jughead could tell Betty was using all her willpower to keep her mask of calm and patience in place.

Jughead guiltily cuddled Bethany closer to his chest, feeling like he'd won that evening's parenting lottery.

"Oh, heads up." Sweet Pea said, drawing back Jughead's attention. "Don't mention Dagwood's hair in front of Polly. It's still a sore topic."

Jughead's eyebrows furrowed. "What did he do to his hair?" He asked, trying to recall seeing Dagwood in the hallways at school that day.

Sweet Pea's eyes looked positively delighted, but he refrained from expressing his obvious mirth. "Oh… you'll see." He said mysteriously. "Polly thinks he's going through a phase… but honestly, I saw this coming years ago."

Twenty minutes later, Dagwood ran out onto the field and it took Jughead a full minute to recognise him. Because Dagwood had apparently dyed his hair black.

Jughead was impressed. Dagwood had long wanted to 'embrace the darkness' (his emo rants at age fourteen were far from lost on Jughead). However, despite how intrigued he was by the sudden radical change in Dagwood's appearance, Jughead realised he knew why Polly was upset.

Without the red hair, Dagwood no longer looked anything like a Blossom man. In fact, his resemblance to Jason Blossom was now miniscule - without the flaming red hair, he resembled Polly significantly more than he did his father.

It certainly got Jughead pondering how Dagwood may be feeling about living in the shadow of a ghost.

….

Thanksgiving was approaching fast, bringing with it an icy blanket of snow and the promise of Alice Cooper's cooking.

Jughead sat at his desk in the newly minted office. They'd 'officially' set it up only three weeks earlier, and since then, Jughead had to admit getting work done while the kids were still awake was easier.

And faster - both he and Betty ordinarily set aside time to go through their mountains of paperwork each week, but with more space and a quieter, more studious environment, said mountain now morphed into a small hill quicker than ever.

It was at this new desk that Jughead optimistically outlined the third and final book in his original trilogy.

He hadn't explored the world of Jordan and Bella since the release of The Pariahs. Truthfully, getting back into the Young Adult fiction mindset was proving tricky after publishing two very much adult novels. But even still he was determined to find a satisfying and emotional conclusion to The Outcasts.

Jordan and Bella are getting married… He typed into his laptop. Note: they are an established team, there isn't going to be any 'breakup' relationship tension in this book. He decided firmly on that plot point - maybe planning the wedding could even be a source of angst or comedic relief for the storyline.

Bella is offered a prestigious detective position and travels interstate for an interview. Jughead paused to consider… and then a grin slowly slid onto his face. But it's an elaborate ruse to get her away from Jordan, whose past as a gang leader has come back to haunt him…

Jughead nodded, satisfied with himself as he typed up a generic idea that vengeful members of the Ghosts were out for blood, and wanted to target Jordan where it'd hurt the most. Unless… Jughead thought to himself, the twist is that it's a vengeful member of the Vipers who went after Bella…? He made a note to himself to think on it more, and see if there was a plausible character who might want revenge on the ex-leader of the gang.

Now Jordan has to use everything Bella has taught him about gathering evidence and manipulating criminals in order to get her back…

Jughead felt like he'd written enough of an overview to justify sending it through to Sam. He opened an email and pasted the blurb-outline hybrid. He made the message heading 'working title: The Expatriates' and added a foreword: I know you said we needed more relationship drama and angst for The Outcasts 3, but what if their relationship trouble centers on the fear of never seeing each other again?

He yawned and stretched out his arms as he leaned back against the chair. It was getting late - he and Betty had long put the kids to sleep - and he was conscious of getting enough sleep to survive his freshman students' oral presentations on Romeo and Juliet.

Cool hands suddenly trailed down his neck and over his chest. Jughead smiled as he felt a warm breath in his ear.

"Finished writing your latest book, Mr Jones?" Betty whispered in a low voice that promised an imminent exchange of body heat.

Jughead drew his hands back towards himself slowly, allowing one to land on Betty's neck. He looked up to her and smirked. "Now that my biggest inspiration is here, I just might."

Betty moved around the chair and settled herself onto Jughead's lap. Her legs, straddling him either side of his thighs, kept him locked in place. "I have an… important question about our essay task, Mr Jones." She said, and her eyes drifted down to her chest. Jughead's own eyes followed her gaze; the first three buttons of her pink blouse were undone, teasing the edges of the black lingerie she had beneath it.

Jughead swallowed, a flood of heat pooling in his gut. "How can I help you, Miss Cooper?"

A spark of amusement glowed in Betty's eyes, but she kept her face in an innocent, doe-eyed expression. "I wrote my first draft… do you think you could take a look at it for me?"

Jughead's lips twitched. "I'm certain I could… where is this essay?" His eyes flickered over her cleavage again and caught the gleam of a long silver chain she wore around her neck.

Betty bit her lip and placed both hands on his shoulders. "It got lost inside my shirt… you might have to take it off to find it…"

Jughead's hands slid up from Betty's hips to her chest. "Well, I guess we'd better get to it then…" He mused as he slowly unbuttoned the remainder of her blouse. "Maybe afterwards I can give you another homework assignment for extra credit… wait." His face furrowed in confusion as he discovered her FBI badge dangling from the chain around her neck.

Betty's tone abruptly changed from sweet and seductive to forceful and intimidating. "Propositioning a student, Mr Jones?" She cocked her head to the side. "That won't look good on your teaching records."

The heat in Jughead's abdomen instantly burned.

"I'm going to have to place you under arrest." She said, her voice increasing in authority. She reached behind her back with one hand and pulled a pair of handcuffs out of her back pocket. She dangled them from her index finger in front of Jughead's face. "You have the right to remain…" she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "silent."

Goosebumps peppered Jughead's arms…

Fifteen minutes later, Jughead's hands were handcuffed to the headboard of their bed. He was blindfolded, and Betty alternated between sliding fast-melting ice cubes down his chest and licking slow circles into the skin of his neck.

The rush of adrenaline brought out by the interchangeable hot and cold sensations Betty subjected him to made Jughead groan in a thrill of pleasure.

"Tsk, Mr Jones." She said, then placed two fingers over his lips. "I don't recall giving you permission to make a sound." She added quietly - but the sheer domination in her tone rang loud in his ears.

Jughead obediently bit his lip to keep any noise from escaping as she rolled her hips hard against his own…

…

Betty was in surprisingly high spirits on the day of the documentary's release.

She woke up naturally before either of the older kids came looking for attention, and the peaceful, rhythmic sounds of Jughead's breathing behind her kept her from unentangling herself from his arms. It was warm in bed, and the sun was only just starting to peek its head through their window.

She relished the feeling of warmth for several more minutes before carefully removing herself from Jughead's embrace. She looked down back at him to see if the movement would wake him, but his breathing stayed the same even pace, and she couldn't hold back a smirk.

The baby monitor on her nightstand crackled, then an unintelligible gurgle of sounds came through. Betty turned off the monitor and retrieved her dressing gown on the way out of her bedroom…

Bethany was sitting up in her crib, her eyes bright and awake as she sucked on her knuckles. As soon as she caught sight of her mother, she lifted her hands above her head and reached up.

Betty smiled as she placed her hands under Bethany's arms. "Good morning baby girl." She whispered. Not that whispering was necessary; the other occupant of the girls' bedroom could sleep through the explosion of their entire house.

Betty tucked Bethany against her side, then moved to tuck the blankets around Emma more securely, and set in motion her routine check on Jordan (he slept sprawled out on his back, Toffee cuddled into his side). Bethany babbled and gurgled happily at her side, and Betty couldn't hold in her smile as she got the baby ready for the day…

Betty was still feeling… good when she shook Jughead's shoulder. He made a sharp intake of breath and rolled onto his back, one arm rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, I'm going for a run." She said quietly. "I'm taking the baby with me in her stroller, so don't freak out if you wake up and she's gone."

Jughead groaned and reached his arm out to take Betty's hand. "Nooo… stay in bed with me." He grumbled tiredly.

Betty smirked. "I'll happily join you again when I get back… assuming the other two haven't already dragged you out."

Jughead's eyes stayed closed, but he let out a small laugh.

…

Much later in the morning, Betty made blueberry pancakes for her hungry kids (and husband) while humming quietly to herself. Jughead sat at their dining table, his head leant against one hand as he watched her.

Uncertain if she was feigning ignorance or had forgotten the release date entirely, Jughead dutifully refused to bring the topic of the documentary up. He'd silenced his phone after the first Twitter Notifications about the documentary's release pinged in rapid succession, but periodically throughout the day he saw the updates, and the hashtags - most people were purely disgusted by what they viewed. TBK had certainly gained himself a notorious reputation that had followed him in death.

While Betty showered before bed that night, Jughead sat in the office and chanced a look through some of the news articles relating to the documentary. Most seemed… positive. Members of the public were praising the producers for their respectful investigative work, and journalists pointed out key points of interest in the documentary.

Several articles even included quotes from the families of TBK's victims…

"We're so grateful for this documentary. The pain of losing Helena has been a constant agony for the last eight years, but knowing that our daughter hasn't been forgotten and that people care enough to know her story brings us a small amount of comfort…"

"Millie's autopsy report has been burned into my memory forever. I'll never get those images out of my head… she had her demons, but nobody deserves to go through the hell she went through…"

"I felt that it was important for my sister's memory that the details surrounding her death were released to the public. What the Trash Bag Killer did to Carlin was deplorable, disgusting, and he deserved to suffer… "

"Nothing is ever going to numb the pain of losing Teresa. Nothing. I miss her every single day. I would like to thank the producers for immortalising Teresa in their documentary. It was her dream to be an actress… This doesn't compare, but I like to think she's looking down at us all, telling us - 'Don't worry, guys, I finally made it to the big screen'. She was funny like that…"

"I don't want to think about the way my wife was tortured before her death. What her last thoughts could have been… it haunts me. I just can't even let myself go there… but those things happened. And now she's gone. All I can do now is keep her memory alive for our daughter… and be glad that the whole world now knows what happened…"

Jughead's chest squeezed itself tight as he read through the testimonials of parents, friends, siblings, spouses… it was a dark place to go mentally, but he was confronted with the knowledge that Betty had come close to being one of the people that could only be 'remembered' by their family members.

Their bodies were only found in pieces… and Betty still bore the scar of the chainsaw's blades that hadn't quite cut her deep enough to remove her arm.

Their families grieved… whereas Betty's were rewarded with the relief of seeing her again.

They were all dead… but Betty had lived.

But living had been a battle for Betty that spanned years. She may have escaped TBK's lair, but there were moments when mentally she was still trapped - still duct taped half naked to a chair, watching as a murderer stalked towards her with a chainsaw…

There was one comment from the friend of a victim that pulled Jughead up short.

"I now only find rest with the knowledge that Elizabeth Cooper ended TBK with his own weapon. I can only hope he was half as terrified in his final moments as his victims were…"

Jughead was certain Betty would have mixed feelings about a comment such as that.

And it wasn't the only one. Plenty of viewers had taken to Twitter to give their own opinions on TBK. Almost all of them actively praised Betty for killing TBK, but a large percentage criticised her for not arresting him. Why did she have to kill him? She could have just chained him up or something… he deserved to experience the full extent of the law. She let him have the easy way out…

Jughead knew Betty's feelings about those critiques would be less 'mixed'.

And so, despite the testimonials of families who thought the documentary was great, and even though the grand majority of people who mentioned Betty were in awe of her, Jughead still couldn't bring himself to support the documentary. Betty was the only 'lucky' victim who had survived… and it had still almost cost her her life.

While he sat at his desk, Jughead suddenly heard a noise coming from one of the kids' bedrooms. It was a shuffling sound, like plastic rubbing against wood. Growing suspicious, he closed all of the tabs on his computer and set his sights on the hallway.

The sound was undeniably coming from Jordan's room.

Jughead slowly creeped the door open to investigate, and found that Jordan was sitting up in bed. He was cross-legged on top of the covers; Toffee lounged across Jordan's lap while the young boy stroked his fur.

Jughead scanned the room to look for clues as to what had woken him, and noticed that his toy box was open. A great mess of plastic train pieces and dinosaur figurines were entangled together both inside the box and on the floor next to it.

"You're still awake, Bud?" Jughead asked slowly, and inched open the door.

Jordan looked up at him, a frown forming on his face. "I couldn't find Bunny…" He grumbled.

Jughead was instantly on alert. The blue rabbit plush toy rarely ventured out of the toy box anymore. Jordan had once taken it everywhere - its familiarity a comfort in his mess of a world when his father had taken him and ran from his mother. Now, Jordan only ever sought the toy out when he was feeling particularly distressed.

When Betty went into labor with Emma, Jordan refused to go to FP and Alice's house until Jughead located the old plush toy. When Jordan caught the flu from another child at preschool, once again the toy had made an appearance in the child's bed. Jordan even took it with him more than once to school in his first few weeks of kindergarten, leaving it shoved down in his backpack underneath a raincoat Betty insisted he 'might need'.

But the toy hadn't been looked at by Jordan in recent years. The fact that he wanted it now worried Jughead immensely.

Jughead stepped towards Jordan's closet. "It's up here. Mom thought Emma might get to it." He explained as he located the blue rabbit.

Relief flooded Jordan's face as Jughead pulled it down off the top shelf. "Thanks, Dad." He said and reached out for the toy happily.

Jughead handed it to him, then sat beside him on the bed. Toffee made a grumpy meow before stretching out her back and climbing up onto Jordan's pillow. Jughead searched his son's face for signs of stress, but he merely looked tired as he twisted the rabbit in his hands.

"What's bothering you, Buddy?" Jughead asked softly.

Jordan looked up at him. The frown was fading, worry slowly replacing it. "I don't want to go swimming tomorrow."

Jughead's chest squeezed again. Two weeks after Jordan fell in the pond, despite Jughead and Betty's best, most gentle efforts, Jordan seemed uninspired by the prospect of learning how to swim. Betty tried hyping the topic up and relaying how cool it would be to go to the beach one day, but Jordan's first attempt at getting into a heated community indoor swimming pool in Seaside had ended with a lot of crying and clinging to Jughead like a Koala on steroids.

Jughead suggested they try again another time, all while mournfully watching Emma and Bethany take to the pool like the mermaids Emma pretended they were. Bethany was content to float in her baby-approved donut ring beside Betty, who gave Jughead an apologetic look as Emma splashed around in the water.

They tried taking Jordan alone to specialised swimming lessons for kids, but the first struggled attempt of getting him in the water had ended with Jughead falling in instead - which only proved to scare Jordan even more. Tomorrow they were going to attempt a different community swimming pool… but Jughead was fast losing hope that Jordan would even get in the water.

Jughead kept his face neutral. "What's worrying you about swimming?" He asked, feeling anxiety increasing as he waited for the answer.

Jordan looked up at him. "If I put my head under the water… then I can't breathe."

Jughead relaxed marginally. "What if we only go up to our waists? That way, there's no way the water can reach our heads."

"But what if I fall in… or someone pushes me…" His eyes started to gain a glassy texture, and Jughead felt it like a stab in his gut.

He placed a hand on Jordan's shoulder. "I'll be right there, Jordan. So will Mom. We're not going to let anything bad happen to you, okay?"

Jordan stayed silent for a moment and seemed to be considering it… but then his eyes screwed up and his lips wobbled. "I don't wanna do it, Dad…" He said sadly, and let out a little gasp of a cry.

"Hey, hey…" Jughead said softly and pulled Jordan against his side. Jordan's shoulders shook, and Jughead rubbed his arm soothingly. "We don't have to go tomorrow… okay? We can try swimming again in the Summer…"

Jughead hoped Betty wouldn't disapprove of him 'giving in', but how could he not when the thought of getting in the water was keeping Jordan up into the late hours of the night, searching for comfort toys to fight off his anxiety?

"Do you promise we won't go swimming, Dad?" Jordan said pleadingly. He looked up at Jughead again, and his eyes were swimming with tears, his cheeks wet and his face turning red.

Jughead squeezed his arm. "I promise. No swimming tomorrow. We'll do something else."

Jordan nodded and relaxed against his side.

By the time Jughead got back into his own bed, it was close to midnight. Betty was still awake, sitting up and reading by lamplight. She looked up when he walked inside the room, and waited while he closed the door.

"We're not going to the pool tomorrow, are we?" She asked casually, a knowing look in her eyes.

Jughead sighed and made his way to his side of the bed. "Maybe not ever at this rate… he made me lay down with him until he fell asleep. Bunny is back in the bed with him too."

Betty closed the book and set it on her nightstand. "Maybe we should think about taking him to a child psychologist."

Jughead could feel himself getting emotional as pulled off stripped down to his boxers. "I don't think he's quite at that point, yet…"

Betty pulled back the comforter on Jughead's side of the bed and switched off the lamp. "Right now it's an irrational fear of swimming… but kids Jordan's age can easily develop life-long phobias without early intervention."

Jughead slid in beside Betty, grateful that her body heat provided a defense against the chilly air. "It's not exactly an irrational fear though, is it?" Jughead said quietly. "His mother left him alone in a car that she deliberately pushed into a river. And he drowned. He died. Alone, in that car…"

Betty wrapped her arms around Jughead and pulled his head against her chest. Jughead's arm wound around Betty's waist. "I don't think he remembers that part, Jug…" She said softly. "But… we don't know exactly what is going on in his head. For all we know, he's still spooked about falling in the pond. His fears might have nothing to do with being trapped in a sinking car as a baby."

Jughead felt his eyes growing hot. "Maybe you're right…" He admitted, his throat constricting.

Betty ran her hand over his cheek. "He'll get through this, Jug. And so will you."

Jughead still had his head cushioned against Betty's chest as he drifted into a deep sleep…

He woke up to the feeling of being shoved off her body. His mind was foggy with confusion, and it took several long moments to register what had happened.

Betty was sitting up ramrod straight in bed, wide-eyed, shaking and sweating as she looked forward unseeing at the bedroom door. Jughead's brain's 'red alert' mode deactivated as he recognised the telltale signs of one of her nightmares. He kept his hands away from her and waited until she recognised that she was awake, safe, and no longer in the clutches of TBK.

Her breathing, while still laboured, settled down into quiet, shallow breaths. She swallowed and gripped the bedsheets between her hands. She turned her head towards Jughead, and he sat up slowly on his elbows so as not to startle her.

Tears pooled in her eyes. "I thought I was doing okay…" she gasped out sadly.

"You are. You've been handling yourself amazingly today, Betts." Jughead softly replied. He gently placed his hand over hers; she turned her palm around and laced their fingers together.

Betty rubbed the moisture out of her eyes with her free hand. She didn't say anything for a while, just allowed the feeling of Jughead's hand in hers to ground her as she steadied her breathing. Finally, she leaned back down and curled her body around Jughead's.

They were both asleep within minutes.

…

A family adventure to Picken's Park took up most of their day, and dinner at Polly's house took up their afternoon.

Nobody mentioned TBK or Dagwood's new hairstyle, though Jughead gave the teen a thumbs up when he caught him adjusting some stray strands in the mirror. Unfortunately, an image of TBK's face popped up on the TV during the five o'clock newscast as Sweet Pea flicked through channels to find something to entertain the kids.

Betty stiffened, but remained perfectly still as she nodded along to Juniper and Polly's conversation, her mouth tight lipped and her hands making a tight first around the sleeves of her cardigan.

Before they went to sleep that night, Jughead showed Betty some humorous Tweets from people who were beginning the countdown to the official release of Get Creative. One Tweet that made Betty laugh out loud stated: The FPJ3 porn book is coming on Thursday and SO AM I. Betty smirked and teased Jughead gently, and they ended the night fighting off the nearing chill of Winter by snuggling up together under the covers.

Only four days left until, hopefully, Jughead's newest book would be officially released and receive public interest and media coverage.

Jughead only hoped it would be enough publicity to stop his wife from seeing any more TBK-related news…