Jughead spends a little over two weeks in the hospital. The doctors keep him for observation; his body is so banged up he can't be moved, and he is put on strict bedrest. Jughead spends almost the entirety of those two weeks sleeping. On the rare occasions that he is awake when Archie visits, he passively allows Archie to sign brokenly to him, making no attempt of his own to respond.
Archie tries not to let this bother him. He knows Jughead's hands and broken fingers are in no shape to be signing back, and that Jughead essentially becomes nonverbal when he can't hear, but some type of recognition would be nice. He's tired of looking into his best friend's eyes and seeing an absence, as if Jughead is still stuck in that basement in the woods.
The nurses on Jughead's ward quickly take a liking to the deaf boy and his loyal circle of friends that visit almost every day. Even his primary care nurse, a non-nonsense older woman named Nina, gets so sick of finding Archie sneaking into Jughead's room after visiting hours that she allows him special permission to stay late three times a week.
This turns out to be a curse cleverly disguised as a blessing. Archie's anxious mind refuses to let him rest when he's apart from Jughead, so spending three nights at the hospital brings him a temporary respite. The physical sight of Jughead lying in the hospital bed reassures him that the entire process of finding Jughead hadn't been some cruel dream.
The curse part is revealed on his second night taking advantage of Nina's kindness.
Jughead falls asleep at every hour of the day, too exhausted to keep his eyes open for longer than a few hours at a time. On that particular night, he falls asleep around 8pm while watching old reruns of Scrubs (subtitles on) with Archie. Upon noticing that Jughead is dead to the world, Archie impulsively reaches for the remote to mute the TV before remembering that it wouldn't make any difference for another few days, when Jughead's new hearing aids are supposed to arrive.
Archie remains in the chair next to Jughead's bed, his English readings open on his lap but attention given fully to the hijinks of J.D. and Turk, until movement from Jughead tears his gaze away.
Jughead's face is pulled in a grimace, sweat beading on his forehead, and he is squirming uncomfortably underneath the thin hospital sheets.
"Juggie," Archie mutters, moving his readings to the floor and leaning over the bed.
Jughead suddenly begins thrashing violently, panting and pushing his hands vainly against the twisted sheets.
"Jug!" Archie exclaims, reaching out to try and wake him up before he pulls out any of the seemingly countless wires disappearing under his hospital gown. "Jug, wake up, come on!"
Archie's heart races as his attempts to wake Jughead seem to achieve the opposite effect, Jughead becoming more and more upset and beginning to talk in his sleep.
"No, no," he pants, fighting against Archie's gentle grip on his shoulders. "Don't touch me…please…I don't…I don't know anything…"
Archie is helpless, his repetitions of Jughead's name quite literally falling on deaf ears, and physical contact distressing Jughead even further. He is just reaching for the button to call Nina when Jughead begins screaming. The sound immediately causes Archie to freeze, and Jughead suddenly shoots straight up in bed, eyes snapping open, breath wild and uneven. His face immediately distorts, grimacing at the pain the sudden movement has brought to his injured ribs.
"Jug?" Archie questions after a moment, reaching out to place a hand on Jughead's shoulder.
"Don't touch me!"
Archie is so shocked at finally hearing Jughead's address him, even if his voice is distorted with anger and fear, that his jaw drops, barely noticing that Jughead had violently flinched away from his outstretched hand.
He quickly recovers and lowers his hand, then sits back down in the chair, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.
"I'm sorry," Archie says softly, and then catches himself quickly and begins signing it.
"No!" Jughead yells, voice much louder than usual with no synthetic buds to inform him that he has blown right past 'outside voice' without even stopping for a break at 'inside voice.' "Don't, Archie, just don't. I want you to leave. I want to be left alone."
Archie is aware that his face falls even further than his hands do, descending to his lap from signing sorry, but Jughead won't even look at him. Instead, he pulls his beanie lower on his head and turns his face away, drawing his knees up to his chest.
"Go away, go away, go away," he whispers over and over. Scrubs is still playing in the background, and the artificial canned laughter opposes the horrible tension that has descended between Archie and Jughead. Archie makes one last effort, gently placing his hand on Jughead's knee. He has to get Jughead to lie back down so he doesn't pop any stitches or further injure himself, but his efforts are fruitless.
"Don't, Archie!" Jughead yells viciously when he feels Archie's hand come to rest on his knee, not raising his head to look at him. "Go away! Don't you get it? I want to be alone!"
"Okay," Archie whispers, holding back tears. He retracts his hand and carefully picks up his forgotten homework and TV remote. He turns off Scrubs, screen going black on Carla's smiling face as she leans in to kiss Turk. Before he leaves the room, he takes a glance back at Jughead. He is now curled up in a tight ball underneath the covers and multitudes of twisted wires. Archie tries in vain to tell himself that the bundle isn't trembling, reminding himself that Jughead doesn't want him there, and turns to leave.
He runs into Nina in the hallway, literally, as his head is bowed, gaze focused on the floor until he smacks headlong into her substantial chest, scattering his English papers everywhere.
"Whoa!" She exclaims, bending down to help him retrieve them. "Where are you headed off to in such a rush, Archie? It's a Tuesday, you know you can stay late."
Archie is barely holding it together, and shakes his head numbly, hands shaking over the pages of Hamlet essay questions.
"I think he had a nightmare. He was screaming and talking in his sleep. He didn't want to see me when he woke up."
Nina pauses and scrutinizes him, eyes narrowing.
"Boy, that Jughead can be pretty damn stupid for how smart he really is." She says, sighing and shaking her head. "I see people in here like that all the time. Damn fools, they don't want anyone else to worry about them, so they pretend like they can handle it themselves. He's probably scared and embarrassed and doesn't want you to see him like that. It's that cursed Southside pride," she winks – it's common knowledge that Nina is one of the only nurses from the Southside. "Don't take it to heart. And don't let him push you away. He needs you now more than ever, even if he refuses to acknowledge it."
Nina gives him a smile and hands him the remainder of his notes before rising to her feet and heading down the hallway.
Archie glumly straightens out the pages, takes a deep breath, and trudges out of the hospital.
Despite the incident with the nightmare, Archie returns to visit every day and stays late for his allotted three days a week. Jughead greets him with a brief, embarrassed smile the day after his nightmare, and they fall into their old routine of Archie signing and Jughead looking vacant.
They don't talk about it.
It's decided that Jughead will stay with the Andrews once his time in the hospital comes to a close. FP throws a fit in the Andrews' kitchen when Archie and Fred break the news to him, and nearly begins shattering dishes before Fred leads him out of the room. Archie hears his father's low murmur and what might be poorly restrained sobs before FP returns to the kitchen, eyes red and puffy, for a cup of coffee before leaving, shoulders slumped.
Jughead is still too battered and weak to be able to handle stairs, and the garage is too cold to comfortably sleep in, so Fred and Archie turn the living room into a makeshift bedroom, rearranging the couches and bringing down an old twin-size mattress and bed frame from the attic.
Archie and Betty decide it would be best if only the two of them pick Jughead up from the hospital. His distaste for large groups of people and social interactions is well-known, and they don't want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already is.
He comes home on a Sunday, brand new hearing aids in his ears, if not still concealed by the crown beanie. He has to use a wheelchair for another week until the sprained ankle fully heals, and then he can walk using the support of crutches until his ribs and gunshot wound no longer pain him. The doctor explains all of this before they leave, and Archie tries not to think about the scars Jughead's thin shirt and flannel are hiding as he carefully hoists himself out of the wheelchair and into the backseat of Betty's car, still wincing slightly in pain.
The ride home is normal, so normal that Archie forgets for a minute that the past few weeks happened. Jughead seems to be trying valiantly to come out of the stupor he'd been in at the hospital and prove that he is fine, chatting animatedly with Betty about the latest novel he'd read. Listening to Jughead's theories about no no Betty you don't understand, the main character IS a dream, he's not even real, Archie realizes with a pang in his heart that if he hadn't bailed on their road trip over the summer, these are the kinds of memories he would have more of.
They have dinner with FP, and Veronica and Kevin drop by after for a movie, weighed down with snacks and sodas. Fred and FP remain in the kitchen while Archie and the rest of the kids get Jughead settled in his bed, propped up with pillows and surrounded by potato chips and pretzels.
"Alright everyone," Kevin announces, dropping himself onto the couch next to Veronica. "What are we watching? We should probably let our resident drive-in expert pick, but I'm throwing my cards in for High School Musical."
Jughead groans.
"Kev," he pleads. "You always want to watch that goddamn movie. I'm putting my foot down today. I've had enough of unrealistic high school drama."
Betty chuckles. "Afraid I'm with Juggie on this one, Kevin. How about a different Disney movie, though? Classic Disney."
"Ooh, yes!" Veronica exclaims. "As long as it's not Up. I am not in the mood to have my heart ripped out of my chest tonight."
"I have Inside Out?" Archie suggests. "I haven't been able to watch it yet."
"You still haven't seen it?" Betty asks, shocked. "You've had the DVD for months!"
"Got a little busy with the whole Jason Blossom murder investigation, Bets." Archie playfully nudges her and snags a Swedish Fish from the bowl on her lap. "Haven't had much time to watch movies."
"Inside Out it is!" Jughead proclaims. "Now which one of you strong, healthy individuals is going to get up and get it? Remember, your poor friend Jughead is an invalid for the next couple weeks. You must obey my every whim."
Kevin rolls his eyes and tosses a chip at Jughead – which he catches in his mouth – before rising to his feet and getting the DVD.
Kevin pops open the DVD player and sets up Inside Out, then settles back into the couch, comfortable silence falling over the small group as the movie begins, and soon they are all enraptured by the inner workings of Riley's mind.
Archie feels a gentle nudge on his shoulder, and groans in annoyance. He was so tired; couldn't he just sleep for five more minutes?
"Arch," someone whispers. "Wake up, c'mon."
He groans and reluctantly opens his eyes. He is greeted with Betty's warm green eyes as she rouses him.
"Betty? What's up?" He yawns, rubbing sleep from his eyes. The living room is dark, television turned off and snacks cleared away.
"I'm just gonna head home, thought I'd let you know. Looks like you'll have to re-watch Inside Out, I think you passed out around Bing Bong's entrance. Veronica and Kevin headed home about ten minutes ago."
Archie groans. "Sorry, Betty. Didn't mean to fall asleep on all of you."
Betty laughs quietly. "You weren't the only one."
She nods towards the bed. Archie has to muffle his laughter at the sight - Jughead is fast asleep, curled up on his side and tightly gripping a teddy bear that Veronica had given him with the phrase "Get well soon!" emblazoned on its chest.
"I already snuck a picture and sent it to Veronica, don't worry." Betty grins. "You should head to bed, you both need your rest. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Archie smiles and rises to give Betty a hug before walking her to the door. He pauses on his way back to the living room, taking a good look at Jughead. He looks better, bags under his eyes slowly disappearing and some fullness coming back to his cheeks. Archie is suddenly filled with an overwhelming flood of hope and calmness. Jughead is back, and the worst is over. In a few more weeks, he'd be back on his feet and back to his usual self, and this whole nightmare would be a thing of the past.
He decides to go back to sleep on the couch, as the prospect of walking up the stairs to his bedroom seeming about as difficult as climbing Mount Everest, and the idea of leaving Jughead to potentially wake up alone in a dark living room is unfathomable. He is finally feeling all of the exhaustion and weariness he'd steadfastly refused to feel for the past few weeks, and he barely makes it to the couch before he falls asleep again.
For once, he and Jughead both sleep peacefully through the night, dreams of happier times filling their heads instead of nightmares.
In hindsight, Archie recognizes that he is a fool. That he could think Jughead would just magically be okay after all he'd gone through is completely ludicrous, and proven to be so the very next night, when the nightmares return with a vengeance, and last indefinitely.
Archie gets into the habit of sleeping on the couch, and the two of them get into a rather unpleasant routine.
Jughead usually falls asleep first. Even if his mobility is confined to a wheelchair and a bed his muscles are overtaxed and easily exhausted by the effort of transitioning between the two. Archie stays awake for as long as he can, as he quickly comes to find that waking up to the sounds of his best friend screaming in terror is the absolute worst way to wake up.
On nights when Archie manages to stay awake until the nightmares grip Jughead, he passes the time writing song lyrics or gently strumming his guitar, hoping that the soothing chords will subconsciously calm whatever memories arise while Jughead sleeps. He usually isn't so lucky.
On nights when Archie's eyelids close of their own accord and only snap open at the sound of screaming, he is constantly reminded of what Nina said to him. It's clear that Jughead is burying everything that happened to him.
He jokes around with Betty and Archie and types away on his laptop, but Archie sees things when Jughead thinks no one is looking. His eyes go vacant as he stares off at something the rest of them can't see, his fingers pause in their rapid typing and instead shake slightly, and every now and then he doesn't respond to callings of his name, as if he's forgotten that he has hearing aids again.
It all comes to a head one night, when Archie is woken up (again) from accidentally falling asleep by Jughead screaming. Archie blearily turns on a lamp and navigates his way to Jughead's bed to rouse him.
"Juggie, Juggie," he says, shaking his shoulders. "It's just a nightmare, c'mon man, wake up."
Jughead eventually wakes up, hands immediately flying up to grip Archie's wrists and pry his hands off his shoulders. He breathes heavily and moves as far away from Archie as possible, curling into himself as he struggles away.
Archie is silent, watching sadly as his best friend tries vainly to calm down, refusing to make eye contact.
"Jughead…" he says carefully.
"Don't."
Archie sighs and sits on the bed.
"Jug, you have to talk about it." He says firmly. "I know you're not okay. You can act like everything is normal and fine and that you aren't bothered by all of this, but you're having nightmares every night."
"I don't want to talk about it." Jughead states with the same amount of conviction that Archie is using to try and persuade him otherwise.
Archie persists.
"I know that I'll never understand what you went through - hell, what you're still going through. But you're my best friend. I know I've been kind of shitty for the past year, but I promise I'm here now. You can't just keep pushing me away, pushing all this shit down. It's going to explode."
Jughead snorts. "Look, Archie. I get you're trying to help. But you said it yourself: you don't understand. And I can't talk about it. I don't work like that, that isn't how I deal with things. I can't."
Archie sighs.
"Okay. I really wish you would talk about it. It doesn't have to be me, it can be my dad, your dad, Betty, I don't care. I just don't like the thought of you dealing with all of this by yourself. It's eating you alive, Jughead."
In response, Jughead rolls over so his back is to Archie and pulls the blanket tightly around himself.
"I'm fine, Arch."
Archie lasts four more nights before he decides enough is enough. Instead of Jughead's philosophy of boxing everything up helping him move on, his mental health is rapidly declining. Though healthy enough to now move around on crutches, he rarely leaves the bed, where he spends most of his time sleeping. He only eats if forcibly reminded to, and has clearly forgone all attempts to act like everything is normal, no longer cracking jokes or making sarcastic comments.
The nightmares get worse. Neither of them are sleeping much, and Archie is cranky from the soreness that sleeping on the couch brings, which he blames for finally losing his temper after they are woken up by nightmares for the second time in one night.
Before either of them know it, they are screaming at each other in fury.
"I don't get it, Jughead! I don't get why you consistently shut me out, as if just waiting around is going to make everything all sunshine and roses again!"
"I'm not shutting you out! Why can't you just understand that I don't need to talk about anything?!"
"You're deluding yourself, Jughead. You're just making this harder for everyone involved, and you're hurting yourself!"
"Well Jesus, sorry I'm not dealing with my fucking problems in the way you expect! Fuck, how long have you even known me Arch? You should know that this is how things get handled with me."
"I don't care!" Archie's patience has long since evaporated. "I don't fucking care how you handle things, this is not some minor issue that you can sweep under the rug! You cannot possibly tell me that you are handling anything when you don't sleep, you don't eat, and this conversation is the most words you've said to me in the past few days!"
Jughead's eyes flash and he is about to respond before he is interrupted by Fred appearing in the doorway, looking exhausted.
"What's going on down here?"
Jughead visibly deflates and avoids both Fred's and Archie's gazes.
"Nothing, Mr. Andrews," he mutters. "Sorry for waking you up."
Fred scrutinizes the boys, taking in Archie's mussed hair from pulling on it in frustration and the receding flush from Jughead's cheeks.
"Archie, can you give me and Jug a minute?"
Archie looks at his father incredulously, before shaking his head as he angrily stalks out of the living room and into the kitchen.
Fred sighs and crosses his arms. Jughead stares down at his hands, playing nervously with the fringe on his blanket.
"Look, Jug," he says. "I know you two aren't seeing eye to eye on this. And I'm not gonna tell you what to do, I know you can make your own decisions. But you should know that Archie views you as a brother. And I've always, always, considered you another son. You've been a part of this family for about as long as you've been alive. You can trust us with anything."
Jughead keeps his eyes downcast, tears blurring his vision.
"Archie means well. As much as he may be annoying you, he cares about you and just wants what's best for you. And so do I. You should want that too, Jug. Don't go blaming yourself for things that are outside of your control."
Fred is silent for a moment, as if he's debating telling him something.
"I think you should talk to your father. But right now you should try and get some rest. Just remember we'll be here for you no matter what."
Fred leaves quietly and Jughead furiously swipes at his eyes. He hears Archie and Fred murmuring quietly in the kitchen and angrily rips out his hearing aids.
Archie doesn't return to the living room, but instead retreats to his room for the first time since bringing Jughead home, deciding that they both need space to think things over.
Neither of them sleep that night.
The next day, Jughead is gone. Archie nearly has a heart attack when he comes downstairs and sees his bed empty, crutches missing, and Jughead nowhere in sight until his father tells him that Jughead had been asked to be dropped off at Sunnyside to see FP.
Archie worries for the majority of the day, trying to distract himself by practicing guitar, until his phone rings, Jughead's name flashing across the screen.
"Jug?" He answers, nervous.
"Hey, Arch." Jughead sounds tired and anxious. "Um…do you think you could meet me at the old treehouse? I think I need to talk."
Archie lets out a sigh of relief.
"Yeah, yeah of course." He agrees, already pulling on his shoes. "I'll be there in ten."
Jughead hums his affirmation before ending the call, and Archie nearly sprints out the door.