Jughead slammed his laptop down. A single steady tear dripped down his face, and he wipes it away angrily. He picks up a pen and paper.

"To my darling Betty" He writes.

"I understand that you've been busy. That's probably why we haven't had much contact. I love you, B, even after what you did with Archie. I miss you so much. I understand why you went away, that your Mom needed a break, so I'll try to keep this letter short."

"I went to see Charles in prison last week. He let me stay at his apartment. I'm glad for that, because I couldn't live in your house without you. It felt too wrong. It seems to me that Charles was only trying to protect us. Was what he did any worse than anything the rest of any of our families have done? Perhaps don't tell you Mother I'm telling you this. I doubt it will bring her much relief."

"I wish we could be seventeen again Betty. Back when everything was so simple and easy. Back on the stage, singing Heathers with you. God, I'd do anything to have that again. To be surrounded by people, by family, by friends, by you. I miss you."

"All my love, Jughead." he hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to sign the letter of with all my love or forever yours. Eventually he stuck a piece of paper over the all my love and instead wrote forever yours. All of someone's love could be very little, but always was forever.

Then Jughead realized he didn't have an address for Betty.

He crumpled up the paper in frustration and tossed the letter into the trash can. He opened up hids phone again and looked at Betty's contact. The smiling picture of them together, sat in Pops sharing a milkshake. God, they looked so happy. He opened up the messages from her.

The last one he had sent sat there, left firmly on read. A simple hi, that Betty had not even been bothered to reply to. Jughead had spent hours staring at the screen hoping for a reply. It had only been two weeks since she had left, but it felt like two years. Everything had gone from being perfect to being hell in such a short time.

Jughead tossed his phone across the bed and laid down, resting his back against the soft pillows and sheets. He rolled over and stood up, angrily tossing his sheets off him. He felt full of energy, and yet lethargic at the same time. If Betty were here, she'd be able to calm him down. If Betty were here she'd know what he needed.

But she wasn't around, and Jughead doubted she'd ever be around again like she used to be.

Jughead sighed and walked over to the bed, picking up his laptop. He wished he had his old one. This new one was nice, worked perfectly, the battery lasted better, but it just wasn't the same. He missed his old laptop, and secretly wished that Brett had stolen literally anything else.

Jughead wondered to what level of hell he'd be dragged to for thinking ill of the dead.

Considering it was his brother who had killed Brett, it was probably a good thing Jughead didn't believe in god. Jughead opened his laptop and tried to write something. Type the letters, type whatever had come to his mind. Poems. Letters. Stories. Articles. Fan-fiction. Essays. God, he could write almost anything usually, except, it seemed, anything of late.

"Once there was a town."

No, too boring.

"Our story began in a small town with four teenagers. They had highs, and they had lows. There was murder, and there was love. But that is all in the past now."

But Jughead could think of nothing more to write. What did he write from there? Where does he go from here? How does his story continue?

Jughead wishes he had someone he could talk to. Anyone. Literally anyone.

But they had all abandoned him. Taken off just like his mother had. Betty had left him. His father had left. His sister was gone. His friends were gone. Jughead was all alone, once again, just like he had been before. There had never been anyone who had stayed for Jughead. Who had fought for him. Anyone who fought for him ultimately left him. No one had stayed around, ready to sacrifice everything or anything for Jughead.

Well that wasn't strictly true. One person had tried to make the stonewall preppies pay. One person had stayed by Jughead when the others were all gone. One person had offered Jughead a place to stay when he had nowhere to go. One person was currently in prison for Jughead.

Charles.