Trigger warning: Read with caution
Betty did not enjoy being in a hospital, but she had no choice. When she got Jughead to the nurse, the woman insisted that they go. Of course, she couldn't let Jug go alone, no matter what shit was going down between them. Sitting in the waiting room of the ER (Nurses can over-exaggerate a little bit), Betty's knee bounced. Her hands contracted and released, going from a skin splitting white to her normal tone, and then back again. The room was silent save for a dripping noise coming from the water dispenser.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Each droplet smacked the small plastic tray, exploding softly into smaller droplets and flying in multiple directions.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
She thought about Jughead, attacking a solid piece of stone.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Slowly the steady noise turned to the sound of his knuckle fracturing.
Drip.
Crack.
Crunch.
She sealed her eyes shut, wishing for the noise to stop.
Crunch.
Crack.
Sob.
She leaped out of the chair as if she had gotten shocked, her nails digging into her own flesh. She bolted, running for the door and smashing it open. A whirl of air swirled around her as she escaped, a satisfying click told her the door had closed behind her, leaving the noises trapped inside. The air smelled crisp and wet. It cleared her head, allowing the stress to start and unwind. Slowly she pulled her fingers out of her palms. One by one they unfurled, a glaring red crescent mark underneath each nail.
After that, Betty did not move an inch, simply letting the chilling air wash over her face. A soft sprinkle of rain smacked her eyelids and lips. Minutes passed, and all she did was breathe. She did not think, and she did not move.
Finally, a gentle creak told her that someone had opened the door, but she did not turn. She closed her eyes, not yet ready to go back to dealing with everything. She did not care who it was by the door. That is what she told herself. It did not matter who had just come through that stupid piece of wood.
But then another scent enveloped her. Slightly like leather, slightly like soft earth. Comforting, and calming, yet intoxicating. The wind picked up as if in sync with her mind. It tossed her hair around in her signature ponytail. It teased and pulled gently at her roots.
A gentle voice spoke her name, and he sounded like he had swallowed sandpaper. It broke her out of her funk, and finally, she turned. His hand was bandaged tight, the white pristine cloth seeming out of place on his body. Before she could ask him how he was, he continued, "Can we go? I need to leave this place." Silently she nodded, not pushing for any information. They got in the car and Betty headed back to school for cheer practice.