This story takes place four years after the gang all graduates from high school. Everyone's lives follow a different path than on the show.

Massive props go out to my editor, Lori2279, for her inspiration, support, and editing.

If you're a Bughead fan, this will not be your cup of tea.

Archie was getting out of his dorm room shower when he heard a knock at his door. He was dog tired after a full day of classes and the hours in the gym needed to keep his boxing scholarship paying his tuition. He was only a couple of credits away from finishing his dual degree in business and construction management.

He figured the knocker would be one of his teammates asking if he was up for a couple of beers at the bar just off-campus. He was ready to tell his teammate no when he was stunned by the familiar blonde ponytail greeting him. Betty's back was turned away from him as he opened the door, like she was about to escape.

"Betty, is that you?" Archie inhaled a surprised breath. He hadn't seen Betty since a few weeks after graduating from Riverdale High when everyone went their separate way for college. Veronica went to Brown, Jughead to NYU, and Betty to Northwestern, while he'd matriculated to University Park, Pennsylvania, to attend Penn State.

"Hey, Arch," her voice was shaky, and her eyes were red and puffy. "How's it going?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I, um," Betty started, but her voice faltered, "I'm sorry. This was stupid. Forget I was here. I need to go."

Archie came to his senses in time to grab her hand to stop her, "Don't go."

Betty yelped as his hand closed around her wrist. The pain shot up and down her arm as she cried out in obvious pain.

"I'm sorry," he released her immediately, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut. Never in a million years did he want to do anything to hurt any woman, especially a woman who had always meant so much to him.

"No, I shouldn't have come," she pushed a stray tear away and turned to make her way back down the hallway.

"Betty, you drove all the way to Pennsylvania from Chicago," he told her, "You must have had a reason."

"I didn't know where else to go," she pushed more tears away, her voice thick with emotion.

"Why don't you come inside," Archie motioned her into his room, "I'll put on some clothes, and then we can talk."

"No, I should really go," Betty resisted.

"Betts," his eyes locked with hers. The nickname he'd always used on her broke through her defenses.

"Yeah, okay," she stepped inside.

Archie got dressed quickly and sat in his desk chair across from Betty. She was sitting on his bed, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked so small and scared. It broke his heart.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said softly.

"I just wanted to feel safe, and you were the first person I thought of," she admitted softly.

"You didn't feel safe?"

Betty slowly pushed up the sleeve of the arm he'd grabbed before. Archie was incensed to see angry purple bruises littering her skin.

"Betty, who did this to you?" Archie reached for her arm, caressing it tenderly.

"I...ah," Betty felt herself choking up. She was a mess of tears before she could get a word out.

Archie didn't think twice as he took her into his arms, allowing her to cry against his chest, tears that must have been a long time coming as they came in wave after wave. Time seemed to stand still as he stroked her hair soothingly. Finally, he ventured to say, "Promise me whoever did this is out of your life."

"He is," she sniffled, "At least, I hope he is."

"Who is he?" Archie asked quietly.

"My ex-boyfriend, Louis," Betty said softly.

"Did you report him?"

"No," Betty shook her head slightly, "Arch, his family is well connected and has lots of money."

"So?"

"I've seen pictures of his dad and Hiram Lodge together. They're buddies."

Archie released a heavy breath through his nostrils. He could have gone a hundred years without hearing the name of his ex-girlfriend's father. He and Veronica hadn't parted on the greatest of circumstances, and Hiram had tried to make his life a living hell for it.

He'd been fortunate to find a mentor who was willing to stand up to Hiram Lodge. Hector Hernandez couldn't wait to take on Hiram Lodge again as he'd won the national collegiate boxing championship against him a couple of decades earlier.

"I'm sorry," Betty sniffled slightly, "I know she's a touchy subject for you."

"Don't apologize," he shook his head. "I'm glad you're here."

Betty nervously fidgeted where she sat.

Archie studied his oldest friend for a few moments. Beyond the redness and puffiness in her eyes, she looked exhausted. She needed sleep more than she needed anything else. "Why don't you sack out in my bed for the night?" he suggested, "I'll take the futon. We'll talk more in the morning."

"No, I really should go," she got up to leave.

"Betty, you didn't come here just to drop this information on me and leave," he stood between her and the door. "It's late. You're exhausted. Let's talk about this more in the morning."

"I'll sleep in the futon," she offered, "It's your bed."

"Don't be silly," he gently nudged her towards the bed, "You'll be more comfortable, and I'm nothing if not a gentleman."

Betty couldn't argue any further. She was exhausted, having not had a decent night's sleep in what felt like years. "Okay."

"Hold on, I'll get you a shirt to sleep in," Archie went to his dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. He handed it to her, and she looked at him expectantly. It took him a minute, but he got the hint and turned around to give her privacy, "Sorry."

Betty slipped into his favorite cotton shirt with Pop's diner logo on it. It was well worn, and the logo was slightly faded. He'd eventually have to replace it, but it felt appropriate to give to Betty to wear as it had always felt like their place. He didn't realize the mirror in front of him was angled in a way to see her until she had the shirt on. It seemed to swallow her up as it came down to her mid-thigh and hung from her body in ways it shouldn't have. He was mentally cursing a blue streak as she climbed into bed and told him she was decent.

"Bathroom is through there if you need it," he fought to keep his anger in check for what she must be going through as he motioned towards the partially opened door, "It's a private bathroom, so you'll have no competition except me. There's a small fridge next to the television with bottles of water and juice. Help yourself.

"Seems like a big room for a college dorm," she glanced around. Though it looked like a traditional college dorm room, there was lots of extra space for him to spread out. Her dorm room wasn't nearly this spacious.

"I'm the floor RA. While I have to deal with the occasional headaches of roommates not getting along, it comes with some perks: extra floor space, my own bathroom, and no roommate," he told her.

Betty smiled slightly.

"Get some sleep," he told her, "We'll talk in the morning."

Betty was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Archie watched her for a few moments before he grabbed the extra blankets and pillow he kept for the futon in the rare instance he had someone sleepover. It was usually Jughead when he came for the occasional weekend visit to see Archie box. He'd never brought women back to his place.

As quietly as he could manage, he prepared the futon to sleep. It was a bit short for his tall frame, but he'd make due. Betty needed her rest. Once the bed was made, he navigated around the room, picking up the littered clothes he'd left lying around. Betty didn't need to see the dirty boxer briefs he'd cast aside a few days ago.

He kept the light on to the bathroom and the door open a crack if she got up in the middle of the night and was disoriented by her surroundings.

Finally settling into bed, Archie shifted on the futon to make out Betty's sleeping face. For a few moments, she looked peaceful, but he wondered how long that would last.

Not long as it turned out, not long at all.

Betty shot straight up in bed, breathing hard. She looked around, panicking a little as she did not recognize her surroundings at first. She calmed down when she realized what she was wearing: Archie's shirt with the familiar Pop's logo on it.

"Hey, Betts, it's me," Archie jumped off the futon, throwing the covers aside in his haste to get to her side to comfort her, "You're safe here with me."

"Archie," she was able to catch her breath and then felt the mortification set in. She'd probably woken him, "I'm...ah...sorry, I woke you."

"Don't worry about me," he assured her as his arms wrapped gentled around her torso, "Focus on you. Are you alright?"

"No," she felt the tears welling in her eyes. She wasn't sure what she was crying about, the sad state of her relationship, the pain of her physical bruises, the tenderness of Archie's touch, which she'd been denied for so many years...there were entirely too many emotions she'd buried.

"You will be," Archie promised as he kissed the top of her head, "I'm going to make sure of it."

Betty laughed a little, "We're a few states away from each other. How do you plan on pulling that off?"

"Let me worry about that," Archie said. "Lay back down. Try to sleep."

"Stay with me," Betty's voice was so soft and timid.

Archie's breath hitched for a moment. Many times he'd dreamt those words coming from her, but never in a situation like this. "Yeah, okay," he shifted on the bed as she slid over slightly to make room for him. "I'll be right here if you need me."

The next words out of Betty's mouth nearly broke his heart, "Thank you." It wasn't the words themselves; it was the way she said them, so quiet and fearful. Someone had taken away the confident friend he'd known since they were little kids, a friendship that was solidified in the second grade when she offered to help him with his reading. Though there were physical scars that would likely heal with time, he knew it would be the mental scars that would take the longest to heal.

Giving Betty enough space to be comfortable, Archie reached across the mattress to lock his fingers with her. He hoped the simple connection would allow her to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night.

TBC...

I'd love to know what you think.