Okay, this story might be able to stand alone. Maybe.
It is also story FIVE (wowzers) in the Jughead-is-held-hostage-and-stuff series. (yep, that's the official tag line now...)
Here's what you need to know if you are just tuning in and considering trying this story without taking on the four prequels first:
There are two original characters who are now fairly central: Brand (Jughead's kidnapper/godfather) and Alice Carter (Jughead's friend with questionable parents, who at this point lives with Veronica).
Also: Jughead learned how to fight and got a dog.
I think that brings everyone up to speed (did I leave anything out? :-D), sans too many spoilers - just in case you decide to go back and read from story one.
To everyone coming along for the ride: thanks so much for continuing to read!
Enjoy!
-Button
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Prologue
"What, now you're suddenly MacGyver?"
"I know; Jug really commits to that smokescreen of incompetence, doesn't he?" Archie smiled wanly at his own teasing words, even though his voice was still shaky. "We should escape on our own. I like that plan. Even though we probably can't rappel this time - which was awesome - Jughead's right. This room is full of useful stuff."
When Archie looked around the room some more, though, his expression became increasingly fearful. "Um, hey, Jughead... good news and bad news. It looks like we've literally got everything that we need to make explosives. So maybe we shouldn't try anything after all. Or maybe... I guess that could be an improvised weapon?"
"What? No way," Jughead didn't stop working on his bonds, but he glared a warning over at Archie. "I barely passed my Chemistry final. Brand refuses to teach me anything. I cannot make explosives."
"Dude, not what I meant. You think I'd trust you near anything resembling cooking? You've barely mastered chicken," Archie shook his head mournfully and his smile was stronger this time. He seemed to be calming down a little as he focused on this new idea.
"Bu-ut, guess what I did this week - and most of last week. Do not tell my dad, or he'll fire all the demo guys." Archie thought about that for a moment. "Which might not be a bad thing, actually."
"How am I the one with the least expertise in this situation?"
"Yeah, where did you get this guy, Jug? Worst FBI agent ever." Archie shot Jughead an aggrieved look. "You couldn't get us kidnapped with someone useful? Like Brand?"
Jughead mirrored the aggrieved look back at Archie. "Hey, it is not my fault that your internship is apparently way cooler than mine. I can't believe you learned how to build a bomb. I learned how to make coffee."
"Well, mostly. The detonation stuff they obviously did without me, but I think that's the easy part." Archie nodded once, even though his nervous expression had returned in full force. "Piece of cake. Right?"
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Chapter One
October 2nd, Junior year
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"Happy birthday! Again! How old does that make you, anyway? Twenty?"
"Don't let my dad hear you say that." Jughead shot Brand a warning look through the phone.
They'd scheduled one of their regular cooking video calls so that they could make his birthday cake together - following the same recipe simultaneously, in different countries - and timed everything so that when Jughead's friends came over later in the day for dinner it would all be ready.
Jughead liked that FP often popped in on their video calls, 'to make sure Davies isn't trying to take over the world.' The two men still fought on occasion, but Brand had a much harder time getting a rise out of his dad over the phone, much as he loved to try.
That might get a rise, though.
Jughead had been given a new birthday - and age - along with his new identity in Toronto, and for a birthday present Brand had taught him to shoot a handgun. Brand claimed he was not getting him anything for his actual birthday, since Jughead was 'in danger of getting spoiled.' Jughead wasn't sure if that was the truth, or just a cover for a surprise gift. With Brand it could go either way.
"Oh, he doesn't like you getting older? Gaining independence? Has he stopped feeding you, in an attempt to keep you his little boy forever?" Brand had noticed that Jughead had not gained the weight back from his intense eleven months.
They were nearing the one year mark since he'd first met Brand, which was a weird thought - and in fact he had lost a few pounds since their vacation over the summer. Brand had been teasing him with a faint undercurrent of concern. Very faint.
"Want me to pound cookie dough while you watch?"
"Don't you mean chug?"
"You can't chug cookie dough," Jughead cringed. "Or maybe you can. I can't."
"You aren't eating frozen food, are you?" This was one of the reasons they had instituted regular video cooking sessions together: Brand knew that Jughead was still hesitant about eating food that he had not prepared himself, and without his favorite dietary supplement of calorie-dense take-out, Brand was half convinced that he would starve to death.
So far he felt justified in that opinion.
And FP had given it the old college try with the take-out. He'd attempted with Pop's, and while eating there in a booth seemed to be a loophole for the kid, he still wouldn't touch take-out from Pop's if he did not personally pick it up.
At one point FP had consulted with Brand and gotten a pizza that they'd both been sure the kid could not resist. When Jughead had refused to try it, FP had gotten irritated and snapped at him that his logic was not great: if anything was wrong with the food, he'd just be dealing with his father being poisoned, after all.
That had not proven to be a smart gambit.
The heavy-duty deadbolts the Joneses had installed together in the door to each bedroom, only to be used for protection or defense, had gotten some exercise that day while Jughead choked down a couple of bites of pizza… and then most likely curled up in the fetal position with his dog and waited to die.
After what he'd deemed to be a suitable amount of time, pale but accomplished, the kid had returned the pizza to his (furious) father.
It would have been funny - it was just so Jones, from the poor logic to the impetuosity to the unfailingly good motives - if it had not been painful to hear about.
"No. I just cook huge batches of rice and stuff. I bag my lunches. I'm basically professionalizing; I'll start wearing a suit and tie and giving PowerPoint presentations during lunch period any day now. It's fine."
"It's restricted eating. That's a disorder. You have a diagnosis."
"You saying it does not mean I have 'a diagnosis,' Brand," Jughead rolled his eyes. "And you have restricted eating by that definition. You won't eat frozen food."
"I eat frozen vegetables. I just steam them first."
Jughead still looked resistant. He pulled a package of raw cookie dough out of the refrigerator.
"You were serious? Salmonella, kid. Put it back."
"Nope. And you can't stop me." Jughead popped some cookie dough in his mouth. Brand made a dramatic gagging noise.
"How does anything you two cook come out edible?" FP walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a chunk of cookie dough and popped it into his mouth with a smug glance over at Brand through the phone where it was set up on the counter. Jughead grinned at his dad, who gave him a conspiratorial smile in return.
"How is he still underweight?" Brand went on the offensive. "I left our boy in your hands, old man, and I want to see results or I'm going to start sending care packages."
"Really? How much weight do I need to lose for you to do that?" Jughead asked, his eyes lighting up.
FP gestured at Jughead with a 'see what you did?' look at Brand. "Incentive structures, Davies. Get it together."
"Get those pounds back on that you lost after Michigan and I'll send you a care package," Brand amended.
"It would be easier if you sent the care package first," Jughead was in the mood to barter. "But if you were the care package, then-,"
"I already told you I can't get down there until work lightens up," Brand cut him off. "Look, I know I pull this sort of birthday surprise crap all the time - oh wait, no I don't - and I hate seeing your sad face when you're disappointed that I'm not there yet again. So please accept the reality that I have to work right now."
Jughead immediately felt bad for asking about a visit when Brand's response came out more regretful than teasing. He knew that his godfather missed him too, and dearly wished that he could visit Riverdale. Brand was still trying to work things out for a visit once Jughead started the internship, but his work schedule was getting complicated as he was finally moved off of paperwork and that bothered him a great deal.
It felt like he was breaking a promise, and it was one of Brand's few pacts with Jughead: it was better not to promise anything at all than to break his word.
The internship would begin in just a few days; they'd ended up having to time it with Jughead's seventeenth birthday so that the 'impossible' clearance would become viable, even with the leveraging of what sounded like a considerable amount of Brand's clout.
"I probably won't settle in for months, Brand," Jughead offered. That was what Brand had promised, after all. He'd visit once Jughead had 'settled in' at the internship.
"If you do anything to mess things up, just because I'm stuck at work-,"
"Brand, I'm not insane," Jughead interrupted. He crossed his arms when both Brand and FP gave him looks of exaggerated surprise. "Ha ha. You two are twinning again."
Jughead had learned how to fight back when they teamed up a little too effectively, and he was gratified when they shot each other side-eye. "I'm only saying that it takes a while to get in the swing of things. You've got time. Just don't wait for Christmas, okay? I expect two visits. No doubling up."
"Getting greedy, aren't we?"
"Yep. So you can get me a Christmas present; I'm clearly already spoiled, so the damage has been done." Jughead began to wrap the cookie dough up again, smiling when his dad grabbed one more piece at the last moment.
"Huh. You save a kid from being a homeless orphan, and this is how he repays you." Brand smirked when both Jughead and FP glared at him. "How about it, old man? You got that bedroom set up for me?"
FP raised an eyebrow. "I'll take you on a tour. Jughead, do you have some prep you need to do here?"
Jughead narrowed his eyes at both of them, but he did not comment. If this sudden suspicious behavior was not about a birthday surprise, then he might make Brand feel badly again.
FP picked up Jughead's phone without further comment and headed for the spare bedroom.
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"Subtle. I'm going to need to get him a birthday present now, you know. Just to cover for you," Brandon complained once FP had taken the call off of speakerphone.
"Get him some camera gear," FP suggested. "I'll send you some links. He's always talking about lenses these days, and that will give him something to send to you when he takes photos."
"Okay," Brand thought that sounded like a pretty good idea, actually. "What's the deal? Have you had any trouble?"
"Not with paperwork," FP replied. "I've got to take a walk tonight, though."
"FP, this only works if I know-,"
"An actual walk, Brandon. I let it be known that he'd be out tonight with Trigger."
There was a long silence.
"Don't let the dog get hurt. He'll be upset."
FP snorted.
"I'll make a call for some backup," Brandon said decisively.
"It will work better if you don't."
"For who?"
"I know what I'm doing. That's why you came to me."
"You're no good to me if-,"
"Brandon. He's been talking about a macro lens. Be warned: extreme close-ups of the dog are likely to follow. Get him a nice one, though. He thought you'd show up before now, so you have some ground to make up. Why didn't you get him anything?"
"I got him something for his birthday a few months ago; he already got it. You want me to buy the kid off? Nice parenting," Brandon did not sound displeased with the idea, though. "The training's only for another few days. Then I'm just waiting on the green light."
"Good. I'll let him onboard, then," FP said.
"Oh, come on - you were not going to pull the plug on-,"
"Try me," FP's tone was dead serious. "A good college only benefits him if he makes it there."
"Well, let him onboard, FP. And walk fast. You've been training?"
"Jughead's going to start getting suspicious if I get better any faster," FP smiled. "But it's not going to make a difference tonight."
"Not making me feel better."
"In a good way," FP assured him. "Trust me."
"That's our deal," Brandon confirmed. "Call me when you get home."
"Aw, are you worried about my pretty face?"
"I just want to hear how the dog holds up."
They both smirked, and FP switched the call back to video and speakerphone. "Blue bedding, recliner, and we've got curtains. In case Jughead expects a report."
"Let's get cooking." Brand grinned. "What did you get him, anyway?"
"You think he wouldn't get that out of you in five minutes?" FP shook his head and he returned to the kitchen. Jughead was making a face at the recipe pulled up on his laptop. "Hey, you look worried; that's not the face I want to see when you're baking a cake."
"We won't mess it up, dad," Jughead looked up from the recipe. He took back the phone and placed it in its usual perch for their kitchen sessions. "Ready, Brand? This one's a little weird."
"Let's do it, kid." Brand consulted the recipe. "Okay - I see what you mean by weird. Let's start there."
FP left them to their cooking routine. He had some plans to finalize.
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"Oh man, I said no gifts. Did I need to hit 'reply all' again?" Jughead teased as he hugged Betty when she arrived. He rested his chin on her head for an extra moment before he stepped back to invite her into the house. Trigger was circling them both energetically, but he was not growling or jumping. They'd made a lot of progress over the last few months. "You're the first one here, so let's hide that real quick."
"It's just something from vacation," Betty handed Jughead a framed photo - of him, Brand, and FP wreck diving, each using another's secondary regulator.
Jughead laughed and hugged her again. "Wow; that is a classic."
"It really is," Betty wrapped her arms around him as well. "So, what did you make for everyone?"
"Enchiladas and a chocolate orange cake," Jughead grinned. "I think they turned out, too."
"That sounds fantastic," Betty looked over toward the kitchen area. "Oh, wow - the cake looks amazing."
It had three tiers and could have come from a bakery.
"Brand's trying to teach me 'presentation,' even though that's not something he ever put effort into when he was cooking for me," Jughead shook his head in mock exasperation. "We're not quite up to decorating cakes, but frosting them competently has been one of our recent challenges."
"That is more than competent." Betty walked over to admire it.
"Hi Betty." FP entered the kitchen and patted Trigger absently when the dog rushed to greet him. "How's your car doing?"
Betty's car had been having trouble when she'd been over on the previous weekend, and FP had offered to take a look at it with her - and been impressed when she'd turned out to need no help at all. Betty had been grateful for the second set of eyes, hands, and opinions, and Jughead didn't think she'd even noticed his father's surprise at her facility under the hood.
They seemed to like each other and make an effort, even when they did not entirely understand each other. Their dynamic struck Jughead as a little odd, but it worked for them so he didn't question it.
"It's perfect now; thanks again." Betty gave FP a hug.
Jughead hid a smile when his dad raised his eyebrows and gave him an amused look over Betty's shoulder. Brand had gotten Betty into the habit of hugging him, and that had somehow expanded to include his dad at some point along the way. FP didn't mind, but it still seemed to surprise him every time she did it.
Jughead could relate. It still amazed him that he and Betty were together. Things were good between them, too; it had been great getting more time over the summer, and officially passing the mark where they'd had more time as a couple post-Toronto than they'd had pre-Toronto. Somehow that made a difference. They felt more settled, and there was no longer the overpowering presence of Jughead's 'lost time' hanging over their interactions.
When Jughead referred back to something, the odds were good that it had happened in Riverdale. When Betty recounted a story, the odds were good that it had not happened while he was in Toronto. The whole experience was getting proportionally smaller for everyone.
"Is Alice coming with Veronica?" Jughead asked. Because some parts of the experience had not faded - and had even picked up momentum for other people in his life - even while the darkest parts were beginning to blend into the background for him.
"I'm pretty sure she is," Betty confirmed. Her expression shadowed slightly, but she didn't say anything more.
"Great." Jughead checked the time. "I'll get Trig set up for the evening."
Jughead signaled for Trigger to heel and carried the dog's bed to his room so that he could shut Trig in.
There was a knock on the front door and Jughead listened at his bedroom door for a moment to hear his dog's reaction. "Good; he's quiet."
"You've done quite the job with that dog," FP observed. He was deeply impressed that Trigger wasn't trying to tunnel under the door.
"He's smart." Jughead was heading toward the front door. "He just needed to know the rules."
FP and Betty exchanged amused glances. Since they'd returned from vacation in the summer, and only more so since school had started up again, Jughead had knuckled down and made an effort to settle into an impressive, hardworking routine that he never failed to downplay.
Jughead opened the front door to greet his guests. "Alice! You made it!"
This time FP and Betty exchanged glances that were more uneasy than amused.
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"Okay, okay, okay - but John Donne and John Milton have way more-,"
"Why are you even trying, Jonas? We both know you're lost at sea as soon as you get two feet away from the bard."
"Jughead," Archie interjected. They were sitting in the back yard and everyone had cake and the weather was gorgeous - but the conversation had taken a strange turn and nobody had quite figured out how - or whether - to redirect it to include more people.
This was not atypical for Jughead and Alice when they got together, but it was atypical for Alice in any other setting these days. She had slowly become more talkative since her mother's arrest, but often seemed ill at ease in conversation and a little too willing to go along with anyone she felt she 'owed.' It had not gone unnoticed - and nothing seemed to do much to set her at ease. Efforts to reassure Alice usually just served to make her feel even more uncomfortable.
And so everyone had been patient for months as this dynamic played out again and again.
But there was a limit.
"Jughead," FP repeated when Alice looked up at Archie in confusion, as if she hadn't caught what he'd just said. Jughead looked between them in response to hearing his own name. "He doesn't go by Jonas any longer."
"Oh! Sorry, sorry - Jughead - you're still not going to be able to-,"
"For the millionth time, it's okay if people call me Jonas by accident," Jughead shot his dad a look. Alice and FP were kind of the opposite of Betty and FP: they often seemed like they understood each other a little too well, and Jughead wasn't always sure that they tried to get along. "And come on, Alice, you haven't even read-,"
"Oh, you think I didn't do that immediately after we talked last night?" Alice laughed. She looked around at the others who were sitting in deck chairs on the patio behind the Joneses' home. "Am I right? The writers of the Trecento beat out John Milton and John Donne every time. No contest. If Jughead wasn't so Anglo-centric-,"
"And we've got ad hominem, ladies and gentlemen," Jughead sounded triumphant. "How many points is that to me?"
"Oh, shut up." Alice glared, but her expression slipped almost immediately into a grin. "I'll give you three points for that one, though."
Jughead smirked.
"So, Mr. Jones, I've been wondering… do they do this all the time, or just when Betty's in the room?"
FP was surprised when Veronica leaned over to quietly ask him the question. But the question made some sense; Veronica likely only saw Alice and Jughead together when Betty was also present.
FP weighed the pros and cons of answering her honestly. It felt disloyal to share his full opinion, and FP sensed that his residual distrust of Alice had a lot more to do with the fallout from her article than anything about her per se, so he softened his response: "I don't think it's intentional."
"Mmmm," Veronica responded with a false lightness in her tone. "Well. As long as it's not intentional." She generally got along with Alice just fine, but Veronica had found herself more irritated by this dynamic as time went on - and it didn't help that Betty seemed bound and determined to let it go, making Veronica feel more urgently like she should defend her best friend's territory. Which was a really troubling way of regarding Jughead, come to think of it.
Veronica and FP both looked over at Betty, whose expression was determinedly polite.
"What did you read last night, Alice?" Betty's smile did not flicker, even though this was not how she'd pictured Jughead's birthday dinner party playing out. There were many reasons why Betty felt guilty about doing anything at all to take away a form of support or a source of happiness from Alice, but this dynamic was getting more intense now that they'd started back at school and there were not a whole lot of free hours in the day for Jughead to split between his friends.
His internship would start in a few days, and then there would be even less time. And Alice always seemed eager to soak up as much of Jughead's time as he was able to spare.
Betty did not want to feel like she was competing for Jughead's attention, and she really didn't like suspecting that she might be getting less of it than Alice by some measures. But she had her usual reminders ready for herself: it was not the same; Jughead made it very clear that he and Betty were together; quality was more important than quantity.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They could all be close friends. Just like with Trigger, Betty simply needed to accept the new presence in Jughead's life, work to make peace - and a good relationship - with Alice, and then everything would be even better than before. And they really did have a lot in common.
"Areopagitica," Alice shot Jughead a teasing smile instead of looking at Betty when she addressed her. "It's a seventeenth-century defense of freedom of the press."
"It's so much more than that," Jughead protested.
"Why were you reading it?" Betty was really hanging in there. "I might pick it up if-,"
"Oh, don't even bother," Alice rolled her eyes. "Jonas loves to show off, and it just figures he'd like anything that has an incomprehensible allusion for a title."
"Allusions are by definition anything but incomprehensible," Jughead shot back.
"Jughead," FP repeated the correction, giving Alice a serious look and ignoring Jughead's annoyed reaction to his second reminder. This time FP's response had more to do with her edging Betty out of the conversation, but it really did bother him when Alice called him Jonas.
"Forsythe Pendleton Trey," Alice smirked at FP, ignoring the warning in his tone, and then faced Jughead again, "a.k.a., the ultimate in copy-and-paste naming, proving my point: allusions that don't make sense are absolutely incomprehensible."
FP's eyebrows shot up.
"At least we're going to be ready for the SATs," Veronica smiled sweetly through her own sarcasm when she spoke quietly to FP again.
FP knew that Veronica probably sensed that she had him firmly on her side after that comment from Alice, but there was no way that FP was rising to Alice's bait. He tried not to react to Veronica either, and thankfully she didn't seem to expect a response.
"Want to play a game or something?" Archie had not missed Veronica's asides to Mr. Jones, and he'd found that the best approach to getting Jughead and Alice out of this mode was to suggest doing something entirely different. "Not Trigger Ball," Archie added.
"I wasn't going to suggest that." Jughead finished his piece of cake in one bite and leaned forward eagerly to address Betty. "Want to play a board game, Betty? Brand's been teaching me game theory, and he says board games are a great way to get a better sense of it."
"Oh man, best pitch ever - for making it boring," Archie shook his head as if he were terribly disappointed in his best friend. "And how is that not basically telling everyone that you're planning to shark us?"
"I think it sounds like fun, Juggie. Let's play on teams; I call Alice. She knows what she's doing, and someone has to take down team Jones," Betty suggested, smiling warmly.
Veronica was impressed by how smoothly Betty had avoided making Alice feel like a fifth wheel - or letting the powder keg team of Alice and FP form by default. "But not Risk this time. We can pick something that has some chance involved-,"
"Not Apples to Apples," FP said firmly. "I cannot play that game with you five again."
"That one's tougher when you're not from the same generation, dad. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Jughead reached over to push his father's shoulder with a grin. "We can play chess later and you can mop the floor with me. What about Settlers of Catan? There's some chance, but we'll have a lot of strategy, too. We don't even have to play as teams with the expansion."
Everyone seemed enthusiastic, so Jughead jogged into the house to retrieve the game while the others rearranged the patio furniture so they were seated around the outdoor table.
"Anyone embargoes me, and you'd better leave a check to pay for your dinner," FP warned with a competitive grin at the teens around the table. "But I am very willing to hear offers of alliances, particularly while Jug isn't here."
Archie was protesting loudly when Jughead returned.
"Yeah, don't team up with my dad," Jughead took one look at everyone and could see in their expressions what had played out in his absence. "He's using you; he'll turn on you. He knows a lot of game theory."
When nobody said anything, Jughead figured they'd just have to learn the hard way. "All right. It's your funeral. Pick colors; I'll set the board up."
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FP reflected on Jughead's comments about his supposed mastery of game theory while he leashed Trigger up for a late walk.
He had not won the game, having been barely beaten out by Veronica - who had the advantage that she was likable, which counted for far too much in that game. It had been close, though. FP had not formally studied game theory (or strategy of any kind) but it was true that Brandon's tutorials on practical applications sounded a lot like common sense or patterns that he'd observed. And, while the math would no doubt be useful, FP could get by on instinct for most things.
Or so he hoped.
The whole plan for this evening had seemed eminently sensible when FP had set it in motion. Granted, he'd been angry at the time, which he knew led him toward more impulsive decisions - but that anger also motivated him to simply get the job done. And if threats against Jughead were likely to continue without emphatic action on his father's part, then FP would do what he had to do - because this job would get done.
Brandon had made it sound more foolish, though, and Davies had become increasingly prescient as he learned a whole lot very quickly through his work. At least when it came to everybody else.
Brandon himself still had a lot of the maverick in him, and FP had been surprised to hear that it had continued to work so well for him in his new position, and continued to benefit him even as he was rapidly being promoted. Because some other issues - interpersonal ones - had arisen between Davies and a few of the people he oversaw. Jughead did not know about the phone calls between Brandon and FP to discuss 'personnel management,' or Davies' new habit of drawing on FP's long track record of working with disruptive and problematic people on sensitive jobs.
FP suspected that the degree to which Brandon had 'imprinted' on him - Davies' word, though he'd never applied it to himself - also made the man uncomfortable, so he might not want Jughead to know that dynamics had shifted so far in that direction and now involved regular discussions, as though FP were a career coach or something. But another part of it was likely just habit. Davies did not mind asking for help if that would give him an advantage, but if he didn't have to share information, he often did not.
Which made their discussions less productive at times, but that was neither FP's fault nor his problem.
He still dogged Davies about it, though. Jughead was attached to his godfather, so it would be easier for all concerned if Brandon wasn't getting himself into trouble.
Which was good advice to take for himself, FP reflected as he tied his sneakers.
"What are you doing, dad?" Jughead leaned out of his bedroom, no doubt to investigate the cause of Trigger's excited tapping on the hardwood floor. He noticed the sneakers and moved to join FP. "I'll come with you."
Jughead had returned from Michigan with a protective streak when it came to his father, to go along with his heightened sense of responsibility (or perhaps mild hyper-responsibility, as FP's 'couples counselor' had cautioned him to watch for signs of, a condition that Davies said could not possibly be a problem because "being responsible is just good sense, and a little more of it isn't a bad thing - especially when it comes to Jones." Brandon brought a unique perspective to quite a few topics.).
But discovering his father and godfather tied up on the raft had shaken Jughead badly (something FP wouldn't mind doing quite literally to Brandon, since he'd recently learned that Jug had been told how close FP came to falling into the lake and drowning), and Jughead had watched at first for PTSD symptoms - even hovering at night to see if FP had nightmares - and then when he'd accepted that his father was not experiencing psychological symptoms, he had settled into his current state of vigilance regarding 'watching each other's back.'
It was endearing, and FP enjoyed spending the time together, whether that meant training or just making the effort to line up their schedules so that they could run errands together or relax together - but he could not take his shadow along this time.
"That was an awful lot of partying; I was planning to take a few minutes of quiet to clear my head." FP smiled in response to Jughead's dubious expression, though his stomach clenched as he lied yet again. He'd gained a lot of respect very quickly for the job Jughead had when he'd returned from debriefing and lied - and lied, and lied - and also for the increasingly adept lying that Jughead presumably continued doing to this day. It was not easy, and it felt lousy.
"Lock up behind me; I'll have Trigger, and I don't want to be thinking about you here, all alone, learning how to edit photos. Or drooling over places to rock climb." FP had been pleased by Jughead's enthusiasm over the birthday gifts - photo editing software and his own rock climbing gear to match Archie's -, but it was already apparent that he would be more than capable of spending hours doing much the same work on his digital photos that he'd once done in a darkroom with film. "Someone could steal the refrigerator and you probably wouldn't even look up."
"I won't let anyone take the refrigerator. And I'll lock up," Jughead eyed Trigger. "If you get him used to late walks, he'll get off his schedule."
"Flexibility is important too," FP spoke with finality as he stood. "Don't train him to be too rigid or we'll never be able to go on another vacation."
Jughead looked up with interest at that; they had not discussed planning another vacation, but FP figured he'd let Jughead take his time and explore options for the following summer. They would not have a lot of summers together before he was off to college, and Jughead seemed to enjoy the planning and anticipation almost as much as the vacation itself.
"Don't stay out too late." Jughead handed his dad his phone from the table by the door.
FP raised an eyebrow at his son, but when he didn't see a trace of humor in his expression, he let it go without cracking a joke.
Hopefully this would not take long.
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And we're off! This one's got a relatively distinct shape in my mind already for much of it (and then, well... there's sort of a ski jump into the void? ;), and I'm feeling it. And, as always, reviews encourage me immensely - both the short notes just to say 'I'm reading' and the incredibly lovely and detailed ones. :-D
Thank you for reading! I hope you are looking forward to a fantastic weekend. :)
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