Author's Note: Hello, people of the Riverdale Fanfiction club. This is the first fic that I've posted on this topic, as I myself started to watch the series a couple of weeks ago. Obviously, I immediately fell head over heels for it, and brewed up some ideas for writing. This was an idea that I had, that I was hung up on. So, I just started writing and, as per usual, my muse didn't fail me. I do plan on making a series or mini-series out of this, leading into S4. So, please leave a review, if you have any tips, or just anything about the general topic! (They do help more than you know ?). Without further ado, I introduce to you, What Did I Ever Do, told in Betty's perspective (but may differentiate depending on the path that I see this fic taking).
What Did I Ever Do?
Chapter 1
One bullet, it read.
The deep blue, ocean-like sheet of parchment was somehow terrifying, being all in my face like this.
The bright gold that was so carefully etched into words was like a ticking time bomb on paper. My breath caught in my throat, as I picked up the gun.
I licked my lips, still relishing the warm, cinnamon-like taste of Jughead's lips on mine.
The ice-cold metal of the gun felt somehow natural on my flesh, as my thoughts wandered.
This was the moment that I had been dreading for weeks, now.
Hal had asked me to transfer him to a different prison, only to have the transport bus get into a suspiciously convenient, but fatal accident. The coroner had confirmed that it was my dad's finger that they found at the crime scene, and that he was sure that Hal was dead.
Then, after somehow getting through that confusing, mind-boggling experience, it was prom night.
Me, Veronica, Archie and Jughead had made plans with The Serpents and The Pretty Poisons to catch the Gargoyle King, on that same night. I had dressed up as the Gargoyle Queen, to lure the Gargoyle King to the school, to end this thing once and for all.
However, before we could catch him, I got delivered a letter, supposedly from the Gargoyle King himself. The letter told me that unless I met him, alone, everyone at the prom was going to be killed.
So, obviously, I met him myself, whilst everyone else was locked in the gym, courtesy of the gangs.
Everything that happened after that, was terrifying.
My dad, or, The Black Hood, was waiting for me, ready to kill me.
He chased me down the halls, through all the classrooms, even in the bathrooms. I had managed to fend him off, and also found out just where his finger went.
He cut it off, himself, which would've been excruciatingly painful, all to get back at me.
He then replaced it with a hook, which he scraped against the walls and lockers, making an eerie squealing sound.
The Gargoyle King came, too, and tormented me just as much.
I ended up hiding in a closet, where Jughead later found me.
He is seriously, the best boyfriend ever.
Through all of that, plus the added stress of The Farm, I couldn't help but fall back into my old fist-clenching habits.
As of right now, I probably had at least eight sets of red crescent moons on my palms, which were all screaming in protest as I held the gun up to eye level.
In fact, my entire body was screaming in protest. Another one of the Gargoyle King's tricks, or should I say Chic's, was to feed both Veronica and me poison. Sure, it was slow-acting poison, but it still took a toll.
I probably shouldn't have even been standing, I was so tired.
But I was running off of one hundred percent adrenaline, as I waited, gun in hand, for my bastard dad to emerge from the covering of trees.
My whole body was shaking as, almost as if my thoughts had summoned him, Hal Cooper trapezed through the trees and into the candle-lit clearing.
"You know how this has to end. You have to kill me, Betty. That's you heart. That's your truth. You can't deny your destiny." Hal said, smiling an infuriating smile, as he ripped off his mask and pulled out a gun, identical to the one that I was holding, and brought it up to eye level.
"Dad, please don't make me do this," I pleaded, tears spurting out of my eyes.
Even though I did hate my dad, that definitely did not mean that I wanted to kill him. I mean, I had known him my entire life, and I truly believed that he hadn't always been a serial killer. He was just my dad.
He taught me how to ride a bike, how to tie my shoes. He spent endless hours with me in our garage, just teaching me how to fix cars, for god's sake. I certainly wasn't ready to kill him.
"You either kill me, and get the antidote, or I kill you and your friends!" He said, menacingly, as he tossed his head over his shoulder, indicating to where the antidote hung, limp, from a flimsy tree branch.
That tone, that tone in his remorseless voice, just made me cry even harder. It was like he had forgotten all of the happy memories that we shared, like our relationship meant nothing to him. Like I was just another bug to crush under his size-11 shoe.
"You have until the count of three," he threatened, my heart jumping up into my throat.
"You either shoot me, or I'll shoot you."
"1," Hal started, his smile rapidly increasing along with his voice.
My thoughts were spiraling. I knew that it was either him, or me.
"2,"
Names, faces, families, all flew through my head. All of the apparent 'sinners' that my dad had killed.
Now, I thought, was the time to get justice for all of the terrible things that he had done. To avenge all of the unnecessary deaths.
"Thr- "He started, as I pulled the trigger.
The gun barrel exploded, as a shiny silver bullet shot through the air.
Even though he was a serial killer, I still hated myself for pulling that trigger. The gun dropped out of my hands, almost mechanically, as my gaze dropped to my dad, kneeling on the forest floor.
"I will never be like you, dad," I said, standing my ground as my eyes caught on to something interesting.
What I saw, though was thoroughly confusing.
What? I though, as I could hear V, Jug, and Archie mirroring my reaction, in gasps.
Though, I thought. They're probably more surprised by the fact that I actually pulled that trigger.
Hal's hand was bloodied, his flesh ripped and torn apart. Through all of that mess, though, you could see a speck of silver, lodged in between his palm and his fingers.
I let out a tiny sigh of relief, as he looked up and smiled at me.
He was going to say something, probably a snide remark, but he never got the chance. And even if he had said something, I probably wouldn't have heard it anyway.
Penelope Blossom walked out of the woods, along with eight of her minions. But it wasn't Penelope that scared me. It was the two figures being dragged along by the minions, four of them for each person.
I was so confused, terrified and tense all at the same time.
"Enough! Good God, Hal. You can't be trusted to do anything. You were a terrible serial killer then, and you still are today," Penelope said, a dazzling smile lighting up her face.
I barely had time to register the two people that were now kneeling in front of me, beside dad.
"Oh, come on, Penelope. Don't hurt them," Hal negotiated, even I could hear the slight quiver in his icy voice.
"No, Hal. I told you. If you failed, or if you bailed, I would kill them. But, not your precious little daughter, Betty. No, see I want one person to live with all of the pain and suffering that you've caused," she said, her voice rising.
"No, no please! I'll do anything," I said, pleading. But it was too late.
Two of the minions unearthed a couple guns from their jackets, as Penelope picked up the gun that had dropped from Hal's now-bloody hand.
Time seemed to slow, as three separate gunshots went off, each hitting their own target in the head, effectively killing them.
"No!" I screamed, falling backwards, as if not being able to support my own weight on my own.
I expected to crash to the ground, but instead two pairs of warm arms greeted me, cushioning my fall.
Veronica and Jughead held me, protectively, as Archie raced over to the tree branch to collect the antidote.
I honestly couldn't register anything that was happening. Be that as it may, I did the one thing that I thought would help; clench my ice-cold hands into fists.
My hands got tingly as I dug my nails into them, unleashing all of the anger, rage and fear. It obviously wasn't enough, not nearly, but considering I was in shock, it was good enough for the moment.
Jughead knew about my nail-digging problem, so one of the first things he checked were my hands. He tried his best to coax me out of that other-worldly state, but, no such luck.
Thick, warm blood poured from my hands, staining my satin-pink dress.
Veronica noticed too; and let out a gasp of surprise.
Other than Jughead, my mom, my dad and Chic, no one else knew about my problems with self-harm.
Veronica quickly recovered, though, as she pressed her body against mine, rubbing my back. They were all nice gestures, though none of them would help.
My thoughts just kept playing on a loop.
Mom's dead. Polly's dead. Dad's dead, and it's all my fault. Mom's dead. Polly's dead. Dad's dead, and it's all my fault.
Even though that's what I was thinking, I couldn't express those dark thoughts in emotions, at least not yet. I just kept suppressing every thought that intruded my head, by digging my nails deeper into my palms.
I could feel the pain, but I didn't care.
In the back of my mind, I could hear a not-so quiet conversation between Archie and Penelope, as Archie was grabbing the antidote.
"And just what do you think you're doing?" Penelope asked, appalled, her voice that of a scrawny bird.
From what seemed so far away, I could hear Jughead answer," He's claiming our prize! We won, didn't we? We survived the night. We proved that we're better than this town."
Penelope sighed, as she spoke," That may, or may not be true. But kill them. KILL THEM ALL!" She yelled, as I could feel myself sinking even farther yet into the void of panic.
I was numb on all spectrums, going completely numb and molding myself into Jughead and Veronica's arms.
I just wanted to be gone. Leave everything. All the pain, anger, stress, everything.
Sadly, though, that wasn't an option at this point.
"Archie!" Jughead screeched, as he and Veronica began pulling, tugging me up from the ground.
I was dazed, lost in my own panic and misery, not even trying to struggle against the gentle, but firm tugging.
"Betty, please." Jughead was whispering into my ear. "Please, get up, and run."
"That's what your mom, and Polly would've wanted. For you to stay alive." He soothed, trying to convince me to run.
If I was being honest to myself, I didn't see a reason to run. My parents, Polly, they were all dead. I was now an orphan, a useless, scrappy orphan.
"Please. If not for yourself, do it for Juniper and Dagwood. They need their aunty. They need your help." Jughead pleaded, clearly using his last resort.
And yet, it worked. I snapped out of my panicked trance long enough to pick myself up from the dirty ground, and run.
The anger and rage, at my father, at Penelope, at the world, had lit a blazing fire inside of me.
Juniper and Dagwood.
Penelope had just made me an orphan, as well as two toddlers. That rage, it just made me run harder. I could hear faint calls from Archie, Veronica and Jughead, telling me to be careful, not to trip, things of that sort.
I didn't worry about any of that, though. I was blind with scorching hot rage. Digging my nails into my palms the hardest yet, I willed myself to run harder, faster, to get to the twins before Penelope got to them, too.