Fever

This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright is intended. I own nothing oertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale universe.

*Malachai- because I think he needs to be expanded upon. There's more to his story and I like building up the underdog, or douche bag in this case. Enjoy…

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Prospecting for the Serpent's was no easy feate, it rocked him to the core, left him feeling a certain way when they rejected him totally. Malachai was certainly hurt when he was told to kick rocks by FP himself, but when he found out it was because of his own Father, that's when he wanted to deconsruct the MC, bring them to their knees.

He had no idea that when he played with the Snake Charmer, he'd be the one to get bit. It never occured to him that the broad would be trying to dethrown him at the same time she tried to dethrown FP, it made him stop and think.

Was Jingle Jangle and running the Southside really worth the beef between him and FP, was it worth losing everything to Penny Peabody anyway? He thought not. So when he reached out to FP of his own accord, meeting with him at Pop's in the dead of night with no backup (he had none to speak of anyway), he took it to heart.

"Hello FP." Malachai raised a hand to shake FP's, noting the older man's shifty glance in his direction, the obvious mistrust of this meeting, but he still shook hands with him.

"Just so you know Chai, we aren't alone. I have people watching, don't start any shit with me." FP's eyebrows shot up, the ridges in his brow line prominent with his urging.

"I know, I came alone, I told you I'm on my own, Penny took everything." Malachai sat down in the booth across from FP, he was nervous, he'd seen Sweet Pea outside smoking on the steps. He noticed Jughead in a booth with the sweet blonde from the race, his eyes lingered a little too long on her perfect pink pout. FP noticed.

"We aren't playing matchmaker Chai, what do you want." FP's palms were flat on the table, he was sitting pin straught in his seat, a toothpick hanging lazily from his lips.

"I know that FP, I was just lookin', been a rough time for me the last few weeks." Letting loose a breath of frustration, Malachai closed his eyes briefly.

"Who's fault is that? Just had to talk to the Snake Charmer. What is she now Malachai? What would be the Ghoulie equivalent to a conniving bitch?" FP took tbe pick from his mouth, turning it around in his caloused fingers.

"That's already the equivalent, no fancy namesakes for bitches with too much pride. She pulled my ghoul, just like she did Jughead. Seein' as outlaws don't have insurance, she dropped me in Sweetwater River, left in my cage, I was lucky to get my bike before she took that shit too." Malachai rubbed at his right shoulder through his t-shirt sleeve, it lifted a bit, revealing a bandage with dried blood on it.

"Betty, first aid kit, now!" FP snapped his fingers, then pointed across the table. Malachai jumped at the sound of FP's fingers. He wasn't sleeping well, considering he'd been sleeping on the streets for three days.

"That's not code for 'take him out back' right? I wouldn't put up a fight, gotta be better than sleeping behind dumpsters and hoping this shit don't go septic, which, I dunno.." Malachai couldn't look FP in the eye, he felt highly self concious, especially after Betty swayed from the dining area of the restaurant to the kitchen behind the swinging doors.

"This isn't a wack job if that's you think. I'm having Betty take care of an old friend. If Penny really took your club, we have bigger issues than our history together. Your old man was a grade A dick, but Penny is bitch from hell no one should ever know. Let Betty patch you up, things should go a little more smoothly now that we don't have a Ghoulie in our midsts." FP nodded at Jughead, he rose from his table in the corner, disappearing through the same doors Betty had just come through.

"You let chicks sit in on meetings with former prospects, ex Ghoulies to boot?" Malachai asked as he pulled his t-shirt over his head for Betty to clean his woulnd up.

"Watch it, don't forget she managed to infiltrate your Ghoulie lair without so much as a matchstick to save her. She could probably whip your ass into submission with her ponytail. Don't underestimate this one, she's a Smith." Betty ignored the talk about her, easing into the booth with Malachai, pulling the tape from his swollen bicep.

"A Smith huh? Couldn't be little Miss Elizabeth Cooper could ya?" He was looking her now, taking in her full lips, the dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. His heart thudded in his chest when her emerald green eyes met his own.

"I am." Was all she said, her eyes swiftly leaving his. Her brow furrowed at the state of his skin, the dried blood. He hadn't exactly had the luxory of going to the hoapital like Jughead did, he had no family ro speak of. "This looks infected FP, i need more than a first aid kit." She sat back, looking at the state of him.

"Shit, give me minute alright? Do I need the bag?" FP rose from the booth, looking back at Betty in questioning. She simply shook her head at him and he too, moved past the singing doors of the kitchen.

"You gonna scrape the shit out me with a stainless steel brush Sweetheart?" He leaned his head onto the glass. Betty didn't miss how relieved he was at the sensation of the cool glass on his skin. Her hand shot up to feel his forehead.

"Jesus Malachai, you're burning up." She worried her bottom lip, eyes wide with fear as she touched his cheek, his neck, then tugging his face to look at her. She was worried, about him.

"Just a fever darlin'. I was tossed in the river remember?" He chuckled a little bit, feeling the extreme exhaustion settle over him.

"This is more than a dip in the river Malachai, I think you may have sepsis!" Her fingers felt incredible over his heated fleah, goosebumps errupted from head to toe, she had no clue. He let her feel the planes of his face, push into the sore heated flesh of his arm, then feel his wrist for his pulse. He relished her touch, the scent of her wafting into his nostrils. He didn't tey to woo her, he was so tired, hungry, sore.

"Is no thang Betty darlin", but a flesh wound, ha!" He let his eyes slide closed for just a moment, Maybe he could get some real sleep before they threw him out to die on the streets, just like his old man.

"Fuck! Malachai! Don't pass out!" She was slapping his face with her small palms. When he opened his eyes, her face was full of worry, her eyes wide with fear.

"Calm down darlin'. I haven't slept in days, haven't eaten in days, haven't felt human in longer." He watched her, the way her eyes softened and her bottom lip tucked up under her top teeth, she was so goddamned cute.

"Hang on, don't fall asleep, okay?" She stood, rushing into the back, he could hear voices, then the sound of a spatulas and fridge doors opening and shutting. He tried to keep his eyes open. He wanted to see her walk back through those doors. He longed to see her, needed to see her.

She came bursting through the doors, a mug in one hand and two bottles of pills in the other. Setting the mug down on the table in front of him, it nearly pained him to look away from her and at the contents of the mug.

"I brought you coffee, how do you take it?" She was looking at him, green eyes meeting brown, a smirk rose on his face.

"Cream and two sugars, please." He was smiling at her, through his pain and lack of sleep. "You don't have to take care of me because FP said so. You could tell me to go fuck myself and it wouldn't hurt your Prez either way." His voice was low, a rumble in his chest. She was steady in her pouring, regardless of the way he affected her. She had thought he was striking when she had seen him in his office when her and Veronica got caught by his men. His jawline was excruciatingly sharp, the curls of his deep drown hair hung in his face, framing his high cheekbones. She chose to ignore his remarks, instead opening the prescription bottle, letting two capsules fall out into her palm.

"You care don't you? About people in general, not just about your club, or yourself, or FP." He was close to her now, she could smell the tobacco on his breath as it ghosted across her skin. She shivered, and he seen it. He smiled at her, leaning his head on his hand. He'd already lain his left arm on the table. The mug of coffee was halfway between them, her slender fingers stirring the spoon into the dark liquid; sugar still crunching on the bottom.

"You don't know anything about me Malachai." She was sturn, danger dripping from her harsh tone.

"I know your Daddy is the Black Hood. Your Mom is an ex Serpent from the Southside. If memory serves, she was pretty fuckin' brutal in her day, beat the shit out of my Dad outside the Wyrm. He deserved it, druggie pile shit." Their fingers touched when they both reached for the bowl of half and half on the table. Her green eyes darting to his. She looked like she might explode. He laughed a little, taking his hand away, letting her take control.

"No bad blood on our end I assume then?" She poored the contents of one container in, reaching another.

"None whatsoever, unless you're counting Jughead." He said, letting hisbhead fall back onto the glass, he watched her through half lidded eyes. She took a deeo breath, releasing it slowly.

"I thought it was Penny who wanted the pound of flesh." It was a statement, not a question. She stirred the coffee again, pushing the pills toward him, not chancing another volt of electricity shooting through her. He watched her for a second more, then laid his hand over hers.

"She did, and she got it, from both of us. I was talking about the race." He watched the shiver go through her, it rolled feom her hand up her arm then over shoulders and up her neck. Her eyes rolled back in her head and he almost salivated at the sight.

"The race was rigged, neither of you won. It was a draw." She still hadn't looked at him, and she hadn't pulled away either. Her hand was still covering the pills whike his hand covers hers.

"True, but there was beef Betty, I wanted to fuck him up." His lips popped on the last word, he was so close to her now, she could feel the heat of his skin on her own.

"Well, you did. Ghoulies beat the hell out of him while Penny cut his snake bite off, then you left him for dead." She dead panned him now, lethal, poisonous hatred burning from within. He smiled at her again.

"There she is, I like that Betty the most. She's hellfire and all things dark. Mmm mmm mmmm." He let her hand go, moving her finger tips to retrieve the pills, popping them in his mouth before drinking the coffee. " What were those anyway?" She had frozen in shock, she felt the burning inside her yes, but she was still taken aback by his admission.

"They, um, they were ampicillin, for the blood infection. That's why you're feverish. Why I think you're saying things you don't mean." She looked pitifully at him, he laughed. "Just what is so funny Malachai?"

"I know what sepsis does, watched my Mom die from it, dirty needles." He shifted in the booth next to her, bringing his right arm around her back.

"Malachai…" He cut her off.

"Ah ah ah! Shhh!" He placed his index finger of his left hand over his full lips, she couldn't take her eyes off of them. "I'm not hallucinating sweetheart, I have my witts about me. Just say for a moment, that I watched you fix that meat head's Super Sport, I just about died. How cpuld Sweet little angel, a Northsider Princess, supe up an engine like that? I watched you hanging over the bumber into the engine compartment. The way you torched the wrenches with your bare hands, no air tools. Are you fucking kidding me? So. Fucking. Hot." He breathed the last, and it was his turn to bite his lip.

She opened another bottle, dumping out four brown tablets onto the table, again, using her fingers to push them forward. Hoping like hell she could get them away fast enough. She was just too slow, his heated fingers found hers over the medication. "Ibuprofen?" He asked. His thumb rubbing circles over her the tendons in her hand.

"Yes." She said, trying her best to keep her voice even, she failed, he noticed. He squeezed her hand before taking the pills from her.

"It's not often you find a female Serpent. It's incredibly rare infact, almost unheard of." He stated, popping the pills in his mouth.

"I'm not a patched member Malachai. I'm not a Serpent." She looked down to her fingers, still splayed on the table, she could still feel his finger tips running over her knuckles.

"Yet," Her eyes met his. "...here you are cleaning me up, sitting at a meeting with a traitorous enemy." He tapped his fingers over his temple, a small smile playing over his lips.

"It doesn't mean anything, I just have knowledge of some things. Jack of all trades." She didn't look away.

"Don't sell yourself short Betty. You're an asset, you and I both know that." Draining his mug of coffee, he set it back on the table. Realizing for the first time that they were not alone, Pop Tate had come in from the swinging doors, a plate of food in his hands. He was smiling in that knowing way as he placed the plate in front of Malachai.

"I hope a double bacon cheese is good, I asked Pop's to make you chili cheese fries too. You need the calories and the energy to fight the infection.

"See? You do care! Thank you Betty. Honestly. I really appreciate it." He smiled at her again, a genuine toothy grin.

"You're welcome Malachai." She said. She went to scoot out of the booth, but he reached out a hand, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward him.

"Leaving so soon?" He took a bite, not letting her loose.

"I was going to get theedical bag." She smiled at him, diverting her eyes from his intese chocolate pools.

"Mmm, be quick." He watched her intently while she shot from the seat to the swinging doors. He never let his eyes waiver from the doors, he needed to watch her walk back in. He craved it.

"Okay. I'm not going to scrub you with a steal brush. I am going to clean you up with green soap and bandage you back up." She said, opening the large medical box on the table.

"Well damn Betty, if you wanted to give me a sponge bath, why didn't you just say so?"