Note that this chapter is M rated. If you've got a problem reading about Archie and Veronica getting it on, skip that part.

...

Keeping Betty out of the loop has been making Veronica miserable. For the past week she's been going to text her - for all kinds of reasons, stupid regular stuff, like the new pop song lodging itself deep inside her brain, or to ask her if she wants to go to Pop's together. And, of course, Veronica has been itching to call her every time the house settles or a tree branch rustles, fear that runs like a flattened palm down her spine, making her jumpy and putting her on edge. She's kept Betty in the dark on purpose, but that does nothing to alleviate the emptiness of not having her best friend to tell things to. It's lonelier than any breakup could ever be.

So, when she and Archie walk back inside the house and Betty passes by them on her way to the kitchen, Veronica catches her by the wrist, her fingers curling around the bracelet she's wearing. "Betty," she starts, then completely fails to follow it up in any meaningful kind of way.

Betty raises her eyebrows, curious. She has a stack of dirty plates in one arm. "What's up, V?"

Veronica hesitates. She wants to ask her how she's feeling; she wants to know how the new article is coming along. She wants to tell her that she's sorry, that she feels like one of those horrible girls that can't make friendships work with other girls, that she misses her and that she didn't mean to endanger her and that she'll do anything she wants to make it up to her. She wants to fix this, but she doesn't know how to do it, doesn't even know how to tell Betty that there's anything that needs fixing. She shakes her head. Jughead and Archie and Betty are all watching her.

"Can I help you wash these?" Veronica backs out at the last possible second, swooping in and whisking the plates away from Betty, carrying them over to the sink. Her best friend follows her.

While Betty fills the sink with soapy water, Veronica rearranges the magnetic letters on the fridge. BETTY, she spells, red and green and yellow. HOME.

Betty washes and Veronica dries. "Everything okay?" Betty asks, voice quiet, just loud enough that only they can hear. Archie and Jughead are in the living room, talking in hushed voices, too.

"Hmm?" Veronica asks, stalling, rubbing at a plate with more force than is strictly called for. "I told you the medication already took my headache away."

Betty works steadily, the efficient sound of sponge scrubbing ceramic. "I don't mean physically," she says softly, and her eyes drift over to look at Veronica then. "Is everything okay?" she repeats.

"No," Veronica murmurs, staring at the water swirling down the drain. She feels as trapped as she did the day her father was arrested, like she could burst into flames where she stands and all anybody would say is Boy, some weather we're having. Like possibly she doesn't even exist.

She's wrong, though. Betty twists the tap off and turns to her, wraps her in the tightest hug she thinks she's ever felt. Betty. Home.

"Do we need to go somewhere?" she asks. "To talk?"

Veronica rests her head on Betty's shoulder, unwilling to let go. "This is something I have to tell you and Jughead." She smells clean and familiar, vanilla and safety, and Veronica breathes her in to try and keep it together. She knows she's going to lose her best friend, sure as if she were moving clear across the world. She knows she's never going to look at her the same way again, and honestly, she's not sure she even wants her to. Still, part of Veronica misses her already, and she wants to soak her up while she still can.

But eventually, Betty pulls back, lays one cool hand on Veronica's cheek like she's checking for a fever, for something she senses but can't prove. "Don't worry, V."

Veronica tries to smile, tries to tell herself she isn't scared, that the walls aren't pressing in on all sides. "Let's join the boys."

…

To say Jughead doesn't take Veronica's confession well would be like calling a category five hurricane a little bit of inconvenient drizzle. He yells - Jesus Christ, he yells at her, all kinds of hateful accusations she would like never to think about again. Archie defends her. Betty cries. And Veronica cries, too.

Then the quiet comes.

After Jughead leaves in a fit of frustration and rage, Archie and Veronica and Betty sit together on the couch. Betty holds Veronica's hand and doesn't say a word, no way to tell what she's thinking. Archie runs his hand up and down her back. They silently do what they can to soothe her, to make her feel less alone; still, she spends the rest of the long foggy night sure of nothing so much as the feeling of standing on the edge of a canyon and screaming, waiting for an echo that refuses to come.

Another storm hits the town that night, thunder bellowing and lightning skittering across the horizon like the sky itself is cracking open, like all hell is literally breaking loose. Veronica thinks about her parents on an airplane to Riverdale, gazing out the pressurized window at the chalky sky and everything beyond it - stars and galaxies and dark matter, the entire scattered universe. Scattered, but acceptable. Indefinitely incomplete. She wonders: why can't she be indefinitely incomplete too?

...

Archie shifts, trying to find a position that will lull him back to sleep. It's Saturday, damn it. He's not getting up this early. He's not. But his body disagrees, and his mind isn't far behind, reminding him of all the things he needs to do.

In addition to the many chores and the pile of schoolwork he's been eschewing, he knows there are things he needs to be doing for Veronica and his friends, things that have been put on the back burner. But after what happened last night, they need to be dealt with. Immediately, his brain insists.

He can't even remember the last time he had a conversation with Veronica that didn't revolve around something dangerous or sad.

He turns over, gathering her against him, his chest pressed to her back, and tries to ground himself in the feel of her body against his. When they got back from Betty's house after Veronica told them everything, he forced her to bed. She felt so wrecked she let him. It didn't stop her working early this morning, though; she fought through headaches and exhaustion and dizzy spells to call her teachers and tell them she won't be in school for a few days next week, to get her assignments over the phone. More than once Archie had to pry the receiver out of her hands and end the calls himself.

But right now she's laying beside him, and for the first time in awhile, this feels normal. Or it would, if he could get back to sleep, which he can't.

And once he decides that going back to sleep is a fantasy, he starts disentangling himself from Veronica, trying hard not to roughly kick away the blankets in his frustration. He still wakes her up.

"Are you going out?" she mumbles once he's sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No. Just can't sleep," he says quietly, leaning over to kiss her between her brows. "You should though. I'll go out in the living room so I don't keep you up."

She twines her arm around his neck, holding him to her. "Lay with me for a little while," she entreats.

"You're sure?" he hedges, though he's already making to lie down again because really; if it's a choice between working and Veronica, he'll take Ronnie every time.

"It's fine. I'm up," she assures him, though her voice is sluggish and heavy.

They settle back in bed, him on his back, her pressed against his side, one leg thrown over his and her arm slung around his waist to keep him there.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she murmurs, rubbing her nose against his neck. "How about you?"

"Your leg's not bothering you?" he asks, ignoring her question and carding his fingers through her hair in the way he know she likes. The bruises on her leg have only faded to a sickly yellow, the trauma to her muscles so deeply rooted it's yet to heal completely. It pains her, he knows, though she doesn't mention it to him.

"It's fine."

"You know that's not an answer."

"And you know you're just avoiding my question," she quips.

He sighs deeply, trying to find the right words. "I'm… I don't know. Just a lot going on in my head."

"You just need to relax," she says smugly. And suggestively. She tilts his lips towards her with a finger hooked under his chin and gives him a kiss that promises a lot more.

"And you need to heal," he reminds her. He tries to pull away, but he's already half hard and it's a weak protect at best.

"I'm not as fragile as you think I am," she says, running her fingers down his bare chest. He catches them just before they dip under the waistband of his sweatpants.

"I know you're not," he groans. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"Mmm, you can do all the work then," she mumbles against his lips before kissing him more insistently. He pulls away, ready to argue with her some more, but she cuts him off. "Archie, please. It's been over a week for me too."

His whole body gives in to her at that, and with another groan he swoops back down to fit their lips together. He doesn't know how long he kisses her for, just that it feels like forever and not long enough and the bedroom lightens by slow degrees around them. Her arms vine around his neck, a whimper trapped in her throat and held there by his lips on hers. Even when Archie pulls away, it's just to blaze a trail of kisses down her neck to the cut of her shirt exposing her collarbones, pressing her body into the mattress with his own.

She sighs when she spreads her legs to cradle him against her, and all he can think is that it's been so long. It's been easy in the recent rush of their lives to forget that they've barely had any time alone; not with assassins and car crashes and everything else demanding their attention and energy.

"I've missed you," Archie mumbles against the swell of her breast where it's exposed above her bra, once he's got her shirt off.

He knows from experience that he needs to go slow, but really all he wants to do is bury himself inside her and revel in the feel of his skin against hers. Still, he knows if he doesn't he'll hurt her, so he slinks down her body, pulling her cotton shorts down and tugging off her underwear before climbing back up, his lips leading the way to the apex of her thighs. Her back bows off the bed with the first swipe of his tongue and Archie has to hold her down by her hips, her body writhing above him.

Veronica tries to push him away when she gets close to coming, always wanting him inside her when she does, but Archie persists, if only because he's not sure he could last long enough to get her off otherwise.

Her entire body is flushed and her eyes are glassy when he finally pulls away, wiping his mouth hastily as he practically rips his pants off. As soon as he does she reaches out for him entreatingly, drawing him back into her embrace.

She kisses him deeply, clutching at his shoulders. When he slowly pushes inside her it's enough to make his hips shudder and surge forward, heedless of whatever his brain is trying to tell him about going slowly.

It only takes a few minutes before he feels her contract, her mouth tearing away from his and opening in a silent scream as pleasure crashes through her like a wave. Veronica's whole body is shaking and covered in a thin layer of sweat by the time it's done.

"I love you," she says, breathless, still mired in the rush of it all.

"I love you too," Archie grits out, more from trying to hold off his own climax than anything else.

Veronica comes back to herself slowly, and when she does he's right there waiting for her, his movement small and controlled. Her hands work their way into his hair, and eventually her lips meet his again, too.

The movement of their tongues mimic the way he's moving inside her, at first languid and exploring, enjoying the reunion, and then more insistent, urging him towards his own end, and finally, deeply, demandingly, and he comes with a cry barely muffled against her shoulder.

They stay tangled together afterwards, neither one willing to break the connection. But eventually they do, and Veronica wants to go back to sleep. She's barely shut her eyes before her phone is ringing though, now, at the ungodly hour of 8:30 AM. Since she laid awake for hours last night replaying the bombing and the screaming in her head, she isn't amused.

"Hello?" she says.

"Veronica?" It's her father. She knows it's her father because she recognizes his voice, but it's tempered with something she's not used to hearing from him: Defeat. Weariness.

She sits up straight in bed. Beside her, Archie is staring up curiously. "Daddy?" she says, all at once alert. "Did your flight come in?"

"No, mija," he says. "We had some problems. With the airport," he adds quickly, in a voice that makes Veronica think his problems in fact had nothing to do with the airport. "We won't be home for a few more days. I just wanted to call and tell you. And to let you know-" here he pauses, then says, "everything is going to be okay. No more bad things will happen while we're gone. I promise. I love you."

Veronica's heart beats quickly. Archie is looking at his own phone now, though his attention is still clearly on her. "Dad, what happened with the investors?" she starts to ask, but before she can get the question out, he's already hung up, the line disconnecting with a definitive click.

Archie blows out a breath as he sits up next to her. "Jughead wants us to meet him for breakfast at Pop's."

Clearly, the universe wants them to get back to the life that exists outside of Archie's bedroom door, and they can only comply. But when they meet Jughead, pink cheeked and still ardent, they're on the receiving end of a very sarcastic eye roll and a comment about it being 'good to know they're keeping busy while Veronica is literally on medical absence.' He could be joking, but his eyes are cold as marbles.

It makes Veronica's stomach twist unpleasantly. She hates the idea of fighting with him, but even more than that, she hates being the cause of Archie fighting with him - his best friend. "Jughead-"

"No," he says, barely glancing up from his coffee. His hands are wrapped around the ceramic cup. "I need you not to talk to me for a few minutes. I'm pissed. And I don't usually get pissed at you, Veronica. I don't have a whole lot of experience doing it. So I need both of you to sit here and order your breakfast and not talk to me until I'm finishing computing."

"That's not fair," Archie protests. He sits down across from Jughead and against her better judgement, Veronica does too. "Veronica didn't force any of this to happen. You can't blame her."

Jughead looks at him now, rolls his eyes like he's being stupid on purpose. "I wouldn't even be angry about this if Betty hadn't almost died, which - whoops. Ever stop to think these psychopaths could be coming after you next, Archie?"

Veronica has the strangest, sharpest flash of annoyance just then. Already, she's fed up with him. Betty is her best friend, and she doesn't want to hear out loud what she's already been decrying in her head for days: that she nearly killed her. It makes her hate herself a little. It makes her hate Jughead a little, too. "Fine," she says, cavalier as she can manage. "I'm a shitty girlfriend for endangering Archie, and a shitty friend for what happened to you and Betty."

"Okay, listen," Jughead sighs noisily and pushes his coffee aside, an expression on his face like he didn't want to say this but Archie and Veronica had to go ahead and push him, so here goes. "I know things have been rough for you, Veronica. And it sucks in an Alanis Morissette, isn't-it-ironic kind of way that you came to Riverdale to get away from all the awful parts of your life and this shit is still happening to you, but I feel like you've done a pretty good job at achieving whatever redemption arc you were after, and obviously you don't want any of this stuff to be happening, but that doesn't change the fact that it is." He ticks off a list on his fingers like potential side effects of some new, unapproved medication. "Betty and I get ran off the road. Your father comes in to question us about it. You get bombed. Your parents skip town, they don't even come back after the bombing. Usually you two would be all over trying to stop these maniacs, but instead it's like you're sitting here waiting for something even worse to happen. And maybe you're scared, and maybe it's out of character or maybe you're the only people you can be yourselves around. Maybe there's more to all this than you're letting on. Maybe it's a conspiracy even to you. I don't know. That's your business and you can deal with this crisis however you want - as long as other people don't get dragged down while you're figuring it out."

"My parents are in New York fixing this right now!" Veronica argues, bristling.

Jughead makes a face. "Veronica, don't even kid. Your parents caused this mess, directly or indirectly. And that's not-" he stops short, shakes his head. "I don't want you to think I'm mad at you because of the crash."

"Then why are you mad at me?" she explodes. She glances around, self conscious - there are a couple businessman drinking coffee at the bar, an elderly couple or two eating breakfast. She lowers her voice. "Why?"

"I'm mad at you-" he sighs again. "I'm mad at you because it's like this terrifying thing is happening and you both just forgot that you're incredible. We solved Jason Blossom's murder. We found out who the Black Hood was. I'm not even really mad that your father brought all this to Riverdale, even though everyone thinks your family is the Antichrist-"

"Thanks," Veronica interrupts, and Jughead pushes out a noisy breath.

"I just feel," he says crisply. "Like you're forgetting yourselves over this."

Now Archie's the one who's pissed. "What exactly am I forgetting, Jughead? That my best friends were almost killed last week? That my girlfriend was targeted with a bomb? That she's being sent literal death threats from the mafia or whoever the hell is really behind this? And you expect us to team up and try to take them down like they wouldn't put bullets in our heads the second they caught wind of what we were trying to do? Would that help you maintain this image you have in your head where we go after the bad guys and win?"

Veronica wants to calm Archie down, to take them both out of here, step on the gas and figure out what to do after that. She remembers, suddenly, the nights she spent at galas when she was ten and eleven, sitting at a table by herself drinking sparkling water while her parents said their goodbyes to their colleagues. She wants her parents now, is the truth.

When Archie starts to stand, Veronica moves out of his way so he can get out of the booth. She's so sick of everyone else's opinions she could scream, and she thinks he feels the same way. "Thanks, Jughead," he says, nasty as humanly possible. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

He takes Veronica's hand and pulls her toward the exit.

As they drive, she stares out the window. She thinks of Seattle, of rainy woods and coffee on cloudy mornings. She thinks of the desert and hot, arid air. She thinks of the middle of this country, the endless rolling green of it, and she wants so badly to get out of this place.

But right now, as everything Jughead said seeps in, the only logical conclusion she can draw is that she needs to go to New York.

She needs to fix this.

…

Archie is showering and Veronica is sitting at his kitchen table, formulating an escape from Riverdale the likes of which would have impressed Houdini. She's weighing the pros and cons of telling Archie about her insane and murky plan when the bell rings once. She makes her way to the living room and flings the door open: there's Betty on the other side, wearing a pale pink sweater and an open, anticipating expression. "Good," she breathes. "You're still here."

"Betty." Veronica blinks once, holding the door open.

Betty walks in and they both go back to the table and sit. Veronica is afraid she might be here to restate everything Jughead said, but the morning light is filtering in and glowing softly on her skin when she says, "I should have told you this last night, but I was-" she pauses. "Processing everything you said, I guess. But Veronica, I'm not mad at you. I would never blame you for what's happening, and I know you must be scared - I definitely am. You haven't had a whole lot of breaks, so I'm giving you one. Jughead might be mad, but I'm not, and I'm going to talk to him. I'm here for you, V. We're all in the together."

Right away Veronica feels a lump rise up in her throat. Her hands sit sort of helplessly in her lap. "You always give me breaks," she manages, voice cracking a little bit - and she doesn't deserve her, she doesn't, somebody as brave and smart as Betty to help her fight her wars. "You're my best friend."

Betty smiles a little, eyebrows turning like she's worried Veronica's going to get her started, too. "Oh, stop it," she says quietly, and then: "You're my best friend, too."

Well, that does it. Veronica's crying for real when she gets to her feet, everything so painfully close to the surface all the time. "I'm sorry," she tells Betty, almost too far gone to get the words out. "I never wanted you to get hurt."

Betty stands too, wrapping her arms around her. "I know," she tells her, her blonde temple bumping softly against Veronica's. "I'm sorry, too. I should have talked to Jughead before he could get to you and Archie this morning. And I should have told you sooner that I wasn't mad."

"I thought you were going to hate me forever," Veronica says, and realizes it's true: she thought for sure their friendship was over, that she'd lost her for good and would never be able to find a way back. She's so hugely relieved that she's here.

Betty smiles. "I could never hate you," she says. "I love you too much for that." She sighs a little, squeezes. Waits for Veronica to quiet down. "Shh, V. You're okay." She says it again a minute later, just quiet: "You're okay," she promises softly, and there's something in her voice to make Veronica believe.

...

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked this chapter - please let me know your thoughts, your comments are incredibly motivating! As a quick reminder, you can also find/engage with me on tumblr as vaarchie. :)