Summary:

At seventeen, Jughead Jones learns that he is a Mutant. His mutation has a devastating effect on the life that he knew and it's no longer safe for him to remain around his friends and family. With a mutation that makes even a simple touch a dangerous endeavor, what's he going to do when he finally finds someone he might want to touch someday?

Betty Cooper's mutation manifested at thirteen. Since then her life has been a careful regiment of control and perceived perfection. At every side of her life, she must hide part of who she is. What happens when she meets someone who sees through her masks and likes what he see?

Author's Note:

Mieteve_Minijoma introduced me to Bughead when we met over in the Romy fandom. When I finally got around to watching Riverdale, she patiently listened to all my excited ramblings as I discovered the craziness which is Riverdale for the first time. Somewhere along the way in our conversations, she mentioned wishing there were more Bughead as Mutants stories. So, when I came up with inspiration for such a story, I thought of her. Mieteve_Minijoma, thanks for being awesome.

This is the first time I've attempted attempted anything like this and I'm not sure how the whole crossover worlds kinds of thing is suppose to work. Hopefully I did this right. The Mutant side of the story is inspired in parts by the comics, X-Men: Evo, and Romy fandom.

I hope y'all enjoy. Let me know what you think.

Chapter 1 – First Day

Jughead hunched his shoulders and tried to pull into himself as he entered the school. This was the first time he left his home in six weeks. The first time since the 'incident.' Since his mutation manifested. He still wasn't certain this was a good idea.

The school was nicer than any he attended. He supposed that's what money got you. Not that he had any, but becoming a menace to society basically overnight apparently got you a scholarship to a 'premier boarding school.' The school was definitely more intimidating than it had appeared in the glossy brochures. Everything about it was large and overwhelming, especially after being essentially locked in his room for the past month and a half.

Students bustled across the foyer in groups of twos and threes. They all seemed to know where they were going , though it was still early enough that no one was in a hurry to get to class. Nobody gave him a second glance. Maybe they were used to strangers loitering about the vestibule. He pulled his crown beanie lower over his ears, trying to cover as much skin as possible. Finding a quiet corner, he leaned against the wall and searched for a clear pathway towards the office where he was suppose to meet his 'peer mentor'—whatever the hell that was. The ever moving maze of people never stopped moving long enough to allow him clear passage.

Tugging the cuffs of his gloves, he made certain they overlapped with the the long sleeves of his flannel shirt. Everything he wore now he wore in layers. Not that he was all that prone to showing off much skin in the first place, but now it wasn't even an option. During his self-imposed exile, he'd gone through his entire wardrobe and discarded anything with holes or showed the slightest hints of wearing thin. Technically, as long as he had at least one layer of clothing between his skin and others, he was safe to touch. But, the thought of even an accidental touch terrified him. The others hadn't been there. They didn't hear the voices whom had taken up residence in his head. They didn't have to live with the same consequences. In his thinking, the more layers the better. Just the memory of her pale face and vacant eyes staring at him, then her confusion and terror blending with his own, was enough to change his entire life. Yeah, he never wanted to live through a similar incident again.

"Hi, welcome to the Riverdale Institute for Gifted Youngsters," an overly perky voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you Forsythe Jones?"

The eight different snarky responses balanced on the tip of his tongue all but fled when he took in the girl addressing him. He'd never bothered much with girls or dating, figuring he'd have plenty of time later on to figure out what he wanted in a relationship, or even if he wanted one in the first place. But, if he were to have a type, it would be her. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and her green eyes flashed with more fire than her pastel pink sweater would suggest. It was that fire which drew him in. For the first time in his life he regretted that it was too late for the possibility of anything more than friendship to develop.

Still, that didn't stop him from stumbling over his words as he nodded. "Um…it's Jughead."

"Hi Jughead." She offered him her hand. Was this the first time someone simply accepted his preferred name without cajoling him about its peculiarity? "I'm Betty. Betty Cooper. I'll be your student mentor."

Leaving her hand untouched, he stared at it for a long moment like it was a foreign object. No one had touched him, let alone offered their hand to him since his mutation manifested. Raising both hands, he displayed the gloves. The Professor has assured him that everyone would be alerted to the danger of his skin.

"No touching." It came out more harshly than he intended.

"I'm so sorry. That was rude of me. The no touching restriction was in your introduction packet." Betty blushed a brilliant crimson which clashed with her sweater. He found the contrast oddly charming. Her hands clenched into tight fists before she tucked them into the pockets of her jeans. "I know it feel strange right now as you get used to your powers, but if it helps, there are a lot of us who have restrictions too. It's actually pretty common while we're learning to control our powers."

"Thanks." Jughead crossed his arms in front of his body and tucked his hands under his arms in an attempt to pull into himself. He felt like he took up too much space. That he was too dangerous. "So, um, do you know what my mutation is?"

"Just the basic—you absorb powers through skin contact. Knowing about each other's mutations is a general safety thing. It helps cut down on accidents if we know where the dangers lie. While we all know the basics, the details are left up to the individual to share or not." He stiffened when she raised her hand to place it on his shoulder. Sheepishly, she dropped her hand and readjusted her stance in relation to him. She didn't pull away, but the protective bubble around him had been restored. "Sorry."

He breathed through the edge of panic which threatened to surface at her almost touch. The Professor had promised they would help him learn to control his powers. It was why he was here. To do that, he'd need to become accustomed to touch again. It just felt like too big of a step on day one. Still, he didn't like being the cause of her crestfallen expression, so he attempted to change the conversation away from him and unto safer topics. "What are your powers?"

"I make things go boom." There was a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Oh, really?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked. Talking with Betty felt almost normal. The most normal thing he'd done since his mutation appeared. Surprising even him, his usual taciturn self glommed onto the conversation like a lifeline. It was impossible to calculate how much he missed having a simple conversation.

"We're not supposed to use our powers on purpose in the halls, but…" She discretely glanced over her shoulder at the emptying foyer. A few stragglers hurried across the open space at a half run, but other than that, they were practically alone. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, Betty tugged a brightly colored hair elastic from her wrist and held it between her fingers. "Watch."

A second later the band was infused with a lurid fuchsia glow. Even with the distance between them, he could feel the raw power emanating from her hands. Her green irises flared with an internal fire and the white sclera filled with an inky black.

"Wow." He whispered in breathless awe. That was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

The glow dimmed as she released a small portion of the charge into the hair tie and it exploded with a small 'poof.' Pulling the remainder of the energy back into her body, it dissipated without an explosion. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply through a five count. When she opened her eyes again, the black had bled away to a faint, shadowy grey.

"I know the whole eye change thing can be kind of freaky." She studied the manila folder in her hands instead of meeting his eyes.

"No, they're beautiful…. Um, I mean, that was amazing." Surprised by his own audacity, Jughead studied the scuffed toes of his boots.

Oooh, you like her. Jughead and Betty sitting in a tree… a voice not his own echoed in the back of his brain. His cheeks flushed a heated crimson.

"Stop it," he muttered under his breath. When the voice ceased its chanting, he immediately regretted his outburst.

A wave of confusion crossed Betty's face. She moved closer to him, though this time she refrained from attempting to touch him. "Jughead, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just, mutation related stuff." He scratched the back of his neck. It was probably better to tell her this now. "I hear voices sometimes."

She nodded like that was the most ordinary thing in the world. "Would you like to start the tour, or would you like to stop by the nurse's office and get checked out?"

"Do I have to stop by the nurse?"

"Not right now. We all end up there eventually, but they'll probably wait a few days before insisting on a physical. They take our health and well-being pretty seriously here, so unfortunately we can't avoid the infirmary forever." Her expression hinted at a camaraderie and understanding that were foreign to him. "Either way, the choice is up to you."

"Tour." He exhaled a deep breath, grateful she was willing to drop the matter.

"All right." She opened the folder and handed him a printout with his schedule. "Everyone in junior year takes the same core classes. There aren't enough of us to have more than one session. Electives vary each semester by who they can sucker into teaching and what they're willing to teach. Our training sessions are not by grade. Instead they're divided up by skill, capabilities, and several other factors."

Jughead nodded. He was aware that the physical training sessions were a mandatory part of the curriculum. They were suppose to teach the young mutants not only how to control their powers, but also how to use them to defend themselves and others. According to his schedule, this week he'd been assigned a 'preliminary assessment,' which would be used to determine which training sessions would be most beneficial to him. "Does that mean you're a junior too?"

"Yup. I guess that will make showing you around easy." Her smile was like the first sunbeams of spring chasing away the gloomy rainclouds which clung to him like a miasma. "We'll start the tour once the bell rings in a moment. Then we won't need to worry about running into anyone. And, I'll show the secret passages around the building. Most of the younger students don't know about them, so they're great for avoiding unwanted attention. I've been here since I was thirteen, so I pretty much know all the best ways around the building."

"Thanks." Though he ought to be reviewing his schedule, he couldn't help but study Betty's hands as she fidgeted with the folder. He found that he tended to notice hands more often now that his skin was a deadly poison and his hands were always covered. The tips of her long, agile fingers were covered in burn scars—possibly a result of her powers. Her nails were neatly trimmed and unpolished. When she noticed the direction of his gaze, she withdrew her hands and tugged down the sleeve of her sweater. Before she could hide her hands, he swore that he noticed a series of overlapping crescent scars marring her palms.

"That's the bell." Betty pointed out needlessly as the tone sounded, marking the start of the school day. "Let's go."

—

"So, you've got to tell me everything about the new guy," Veronica Lodge caught up to Betty with the sharp click of heels. "What's he like?"

Betty smiled at her best friend and reigned in her thoughts. It wouldn't do to allow any stray thoughts to escape her mind for her telepathic friend's perusal. "He's nice. We've actually like a lot of the same books and movies and he's got a wicked sense of humor."

"He didn't say anything during class. I thought he was auditioning for the role of Holden Caulfield." Veronica raised a perfect eyebrow. "Although, you did miss the first two hours of class and even I know the typical tour doesn't take that long. Whatever did the two of you find to talk about? You know, besides books and movies."

Her ponytail caught under her backpack as she attempted to redistribute the weight. She wasn't certain what to tell Veronica. Jughead had been so easy to talk to. They'd compared favorite foods and hobbies. They both liked reading mysteries and watching black-and-white movies. He told her about his home town—the chocolate shop which made the best hamburgers and the drive-in theatre where he worked. She'd told him about her niece and nephew. When he mentioned he liked to write, she'd invited him to join the student newspaper. She couldn't hide her delight when he'd agreed join. If she didn't have a paper to turn in for third hour, she'd suspected they would still be chatting.

Unable to delay answering any longer, Betty shrugged. "I think the whole powers thing is overwhelming him."

"Tell me about it," Veronica rolled her eyes. Her mutation included telepathy and some telekinesis. When her powers manifested, she'd been inundated by the unfiltered thoughts of everyone in a two mile radius. So, yeah, she had an intimate understanding of what overwhelming meant. Veronica could probably also help Jughead with the hearing voices thing, but it wasn't Betty's place to share his secrets.

"Okay, since you won't spill anymore about tall, dark, and broody, how about this. Do you think he's cute?" Veronica prodded. She looped her arm around Betty's and the two girls walked arm in arm towards the dining room.

"Mm. Yeah, you could say that." Cute was an understatement in Betty's opinion. He was more than just handsome. Over the course of their tour, Jughead finally relaxed and she got a glimpse at the boy he'd been before his powers manifested. He was smart and funny. He had a sardonic comment for everything. When they finally finished their tour in time for their third hour class, she noticed he didn't have the same deference to teachers as she did. He hadn't spoken up in class, but when they left, he was full of insightful rejoinders which were a step or two beyond the usual level of discourse in class.

"Are you two talking about that new Hobo?" Cheryl Blossom breezed up to them. "The standards are really starting to fall around here if they're letting in rift-raft like that. Am I right, cousin?"

Betty's temper spiked. She felt oddly protective of the new boy. He didn't deserve to deal with her Cheryl's venom. A buzz of energy pulsed through her veins and danced along her skin. A fire burned at her fingertips. She clutched her hands into fists, extinguishing the fuchsia burst of energy before the others could notice. "His name is Jughead."

Cheryl cocked her head to the side. "Hm. Don't care."

Before Betty could retaliate, Cheryl paced off in the direction of her lunch table, phasing through anyone and anything in her way.

"She's not worth it," Veronica said softly once the redhead was out of earshot. Her best friend was one of the few people who knew about Betty's control issues, though not her method of dealing with them.

"I know." Betty muttered. She'd pinched her thigh hard enough to leave a bruise. She knew causing herself pain wasn't a long term solution for her control issues, but none of the other therapies or techniques were working anymore.

Looking up, Betty caught sight of Jughead standing out of the way and observing the confusion of the dining hall. During their tour, she noticed he had a way of holding himself inward like he was trying to disappear. Though she was curious, Betty wasn't about to push him before he was ready to share. She knew what it was like to have a secret.

She'd lost track of Jughead after fourth hour when Ms. Grundy wanted to review the content of the next issue of the student paper with Betty. Then Veronica had swept her up in blur of motion until they ended up here. Betty tugged Veronica's sleeve. "C'mon. Let's go say hi."

Veronica's smile widened like a cat with a scheme. "He looks a bit skittish, why don't you help him with the lunch line and I'll save you you a both a spot at our table. We wouldn't want to scare him off before you have a chance to ask him out, would we?"

"V! Stay out of my mind." Betty covered her face with both her hands.

She laughed. "Oh, Bettykins, I don't need to read your mind. I know you. He's you're type."

"Fine." Betty handed her bag to Veronica. There was no point in denying it, at least not to Veronica. The rest of the school didn't need to know she had a crush on the new boy.

Before Betty could weave through the crowded dining room, Veronica touched her sleeve. She spoke in a low voice to avoid being overheard. "Maybe, you can suggest he doesn't think so loud."

"Is he….shouting?" Betty cringed. She'd enjoyed talking to Jughead and their conversation had frequently drifted away from the official script. For the most part, that was okay. But, she'd forgotten to explain some of the rules which made living in a school full of mutants a little easier—like those about mental shouting and how to maintain a shield. Veronica wasn't the only telepath at school and while telepaths had a 'code of ethics' they were suppose to maintain concerning reading minds, not everyone was as diligent (or, at least as discreet) as her friend. Betty had an easier time with the mental shielding because of the static her mutation created, but loud thoughts or a persistent telepath could still cut through noise her brain produced. Jughead probably didn't have a natural defense and would need the techniques shared with all new students.

Veronica shrugged. "Not really. It's just obvious he's not shielded. Scanning him is not quite like trying to read your thoughts, but there's a similar level of interference. What I'm getting is a jumble. He's hungry, but also nervous and confused. And," Veronica paused, a deep crease furrowing her brow, "he's fretting about how is he expected to pass trigonometry when he's still struggling with pre-algebra?"

"That's odd." Betty worried at her lower lip. She sat next to him in math and he'd done just fine. He'd even finished the assignment before her. Could it have something to the voices he admitted to hearing? She couldn't ask Veronica without first talking to Jughead.

Placing her fingertips to her temple, Veronica concentrated on the new student.

"Veronica! Don't pry." Betty waved a hand in front of her friend's line of sight. Across the room Jughead shifted uncomfortably in place like he could sense he was the subject of their discussion. When he met Betty's eyes, the consternated frown morphed into a bright smile.

"I'm not prying. I'm just focusing." Veronica clapped her hands in glee. "Oh, B! He's utterly smitten with you. Though that pretty much goes without saying, since we're all a little bit smitten with you."

Betty rolled her eyes. Everyone depended on Betty. There was a big difference between that and being smitten, but Veronica was her best friend and took the fact that nothing would get done without Betty's direct involvement as evidence of everyone's devotion to her.

"Go on. Save us a spot." Betty gave Veronica a slight push in the direction of their usual table. "We'll be over in a moment."

Turning in the opposite direction, Betty darted across the dining room. In her hurry, she missed the scheming appraisal in her best friend's eyes.

"Hi, Jughead," Betty approached him, calling out before she got too close so she didn't startle him. She remembered her early days while she was still getting used to having powers. Keeping the energy contained had required so much control—all the time—that even the smallest shock could startle her. It was fun to tease about her powers going 'boom' now, but at thirteen, it had been terrifying.

"Hi Betty." He smiled at her like he thought being in her presence was akin to winning the lottery. "So, um, lunch. Is there a way into the melee without, you know, touching everyone?"

"It's not chaotic as it appears at first. Veronica is saving us a table with Archie. As for the food, it's buffet style. You just take what you want. Oh, right, let me know if you have any dietary restrictions that aren't in your file."

He chuckled. There was a tightness in his cheeks which made her think he hadn't laughed in a while. "I pretty much eat anything at anytime."

As he adjusted the angle his beanie with its crown-shaped brim, a lock of ink black hair escaped the confines. His hair swept across his forehead in a loose curl. It was a shame she'd probably never have the opportunity to run her fingers through his hair. Her gaze darted across the dining hall to where Veronica sat with Archie. Veronica gave her a knowing smirk. Being able to read her mind or not, Veronica most definitely knew what Betty had been thinking. When Betty had asked him about his hat during the tour, he'd changed the subject. Now, she very much wished to do the same in her own mind. Betty tucked her hands into the sleeves of her sweater and rolled the ribbed cuff between her fingers as she tried to think of anything other than Jughead's hair.

"That's good." She said absently before nodding towards the serving dishes along the counter. "Looks like there's a gap in the crowd."

She led the way past the clusters of meandering students, making certain she never moved more than a step ahead. Their classmates were aware of the new student and had been warned to give him a respectful distance. Jughead stiffened as he realized the wave of movement was clearing a path for him. Betty cringed. While giving space to mutants with potentially dangerous powers was second nature to them, for newcomers, it tended to give the impression they were afraid of you. So, she did her best to distract him and instead of stepping away, she remained nearby. "Living at the school is a bit like living at home. You know, if living at home meant living with a bunch of strangers nearly the same age and teachers instead of parents. Anyways, we all have chores which we take in shifts. I've got to admit that kitchen duty is probably my favorite—at least the cooking side of things. If you want I can arrange it so you're on my shift."

"I'd like that." He hesitated after he spooned a moderate sized serving of spaghetti onto his plate. His eyes lingered greedily on the serving dish attempting to calculate the amount remaining and the students still waiting to eat.

"Take what you'll eat. Or, if you prefer, you can come back for seconds. We always make leftovers. When this dish is empty they'll bring out a new one." Betty reassured him.

Scooping another heaping spoonful onto his plate, Jughead shrugged. "I should probably avoid getting up more than I need to. Don't want to risk an accident."

"Accidents happen around here all the time. No one will get upset."

"Uh, right. If you say so," he mumbled and added some salad to his plate as almost an afterthought.

Betty filled the majority of her plate with the salad before adding a half serving of spaghetti. In comparison to Jughead's plate, her entire meal covered less than half the amount of space occupied by his serving of spaghetti. She'd completely avoided the cheesy garlic bread, which he'd taken two slices and balanced them on top of the mound of noodles and sauce. With a sigh, she sucked in her stomach. She'd rather have the spaghetti, but she'd gone home over the weekend and her mother's words about her weight were still ringing in Betty's ears. And, those had been the least damning.

Tentatively, he reached out with his glove covered hand and brushed her elbow. "Are you okay?"

Betty's heart fluttered at the touch. After her several faux pas of the morning, she knew that touch wasn't something he took lightly. She took half a step closer to her and leaned her head towards him. While she wasn't ready to explain the force of nature that was Alice Cooper to him, she couldn't find it in her to brush off the question with a lie or a misdirection like she was wont to do. "Not really, but I will be."

With those intense blue eyes of his, Jughead studied her, stripping away the layers of pretense she wrapped around her like cotton wool. Her stomach clenched at the thought of censure or pity marring those beautiful eyes. Instead of plying her with empty words or cajoling her to just talk about it, he accepted her statement with a nod which spoke more than a litany of trite phrases ever could about his willingness to listen and be there for her according to her schedule and not his. "Okay."

In the ensuing lull of conversation, Betty found that her hands relaxed instead of clenching into fists.

"You know," he leaned in and said in a conspiratorial fashion as he reached across her and placed another slice of cheese toast on his plate. He gave her a crooked smile. "I think I took too much food. If you want to help me finish it off, I'd be grateful."

He gave her a crooked smile and she thought she might just melt. She'd only known him for a couple of hours, but had already gotten the sense that he took his food seriously. She suspected he didn't offer to share lightly. What was more, she knew he had seen past her masks in a way most people never did. It was more than just an offer to share food.

"Thanks." She said as she led him to their table. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so seen.

—