AN: Happy for any of you reading and reviewing! And of course, grateful to an awesome Beta, ItsBeckChadwick. Such a helpful and encouraging presence!

Physically escaping the Cooper's house was easy. Jughead just opened the window, climbed down the ladder and made a break for the Southside of town. This was something that he did frequently since beginning to date Betty. But leaving Betty to fend for herself against her parents was not so easy, especially considering how Alice was acting. Still, it was true that if he stayed, it would mean not just trouble for Jughead, but extra trouble for Betty. It could have even been the incentive Alice needed to break them up, once and for all. So, he left.

As he trekked through the suburban area that led to the Southside trailer park, Jughead thought about what he overheard Alice talking about. Betty hadn't told him that she had a half brother, or any brother for that matter. If Alice was the mother, as Jughead had already determined, then who was the father? Where was the kid now? Why did it mean that they had to break up? Maybe this was something F.P. could answer when he visited tomorrow.

Jughead sighed. He'd almost forgotten the cryptic message his father had sent him about Betty. Thanks for the warning, Dad! Glad to know Betty's in danger and because of his father's stupid mistakes, Jughead gets to wait to find out why. He knew that Betty was safe at the Cooper's so he didn't worry too hard. But still.

Entering the trailer park gave him the feeling of anxious comfort that he always felt when coming home: it might always be a train wreck, but the Southside was his home. Somehow being with Betty had yet to change this. Jughead had hoped it would, but having that one day at Southside High had proven to him that he was different than everyone at Riverdale. Like he needed to be reminded. Luckily, Betty still wanted to be with him, and he still wanted to be with her. And Jughead would do what it took to make sure it stayed that way.

Jughead realized he was automatically headed to his old trailer, though he knew where he was supposed to be staying for the night: with his new foster family, the Shields. Jughead had met them only a few days ago but they made it clear that they expected him to start sleeping over at their trailer. The Shields had a room ready just for him, they had told him, cleaned and ready to go. Jughead frowned just thinking about them. No one from the Southside should be as nice as they were, but they were the freaks of the trailer park. They were known for fostering children, able to handle frequent outbursts from these youths, and do it with a smile. For some reason, the Shields just exuded a perfection rarely found on the Southside of town. They were poor, yes, but still better functioning than most of the more well-off people in Riverdale. Jughead didn't buy it. He knew better than anyone that 'perfect' just meant 'hiding something.' But these people were going to be his temporary family, so Jughead convinced himself to make the most of it.

Shifting directions, he headed to the Shields' trailer which was more northwest than his own.

The outside had been painted a bright yellow, it's front door a deep crimson. It made the trailer stand out against the typical grey, black and green that most people went for, and Jughead was sure that the Shields liked it that way. Though it was only October, Christmas lights were hung all around the outside, framing the roof and windows. Jughead was unsure if they had just been put up or if they were left from last year. Either way it gave the outside a cheery glow that Jughead couldn't help but smile at. He knocked on the door, the door opening almost too quickly to reveal a pudgy woman in her late 40s. The woman quickly swept her curly brown hair to the side, displaying bright green eyes. She took one look at Jughead and smiled big, revealing all her teeth and gums.

"Jughead Jones! Where have you been, darlin'?" She asked, her southern drawl evident. Jughead had asked where she was from when meeting her, to which she replied, 'The best country in the world: Texas!' Her husband, Steve, had just shook his head at that. Steve was from Riverdale, Jughead had found out. Born and raised, apparently.

"Sorry, Fran. Had an emergency to take care of. My friend's father was in the hospital," Jughead replied, as the older woman quickly ushered him inside. Though small, the inside of the trailer was clean and well kept. Angel figurines were scattered about the entirety of it, ranging in size. While Jughead had thought they were a bit creepy upon first meeting the Shields, he was already getting used to them. Fran pointed to the coat rack and Jughead quickly shrugged out of his coat, placing it with the others.

"Is he okay?"

"So far. I hope it stays that way."

"Anything we can do, honey?"

"I'll let you know if he needs anything." Fran smiled again.

"Well, let's not just stand here! Are you hungry? We got some leftover lasagna in the fridge. Steve already ate his share before he went to work, so you can have whatever's left!" Fran lightly pushed Jughead into the kitchen area, and he found himself in one of the dining room chairs before he could respond.

"Actually, I ate at the hospital." Fran was already taking the lasagna out of the container and putting it on a plate.

"Nonsense, sweetheart. You're a stick of a boy. You need some meat on you." The plate went into the microwave without Jughead's say. He felt a bit helpless against Fran Shield's hospitality and Jughead imagined that Fran liked it that way. When she turned around and smiled at him again, he was sure of it. "You got school tomorrow?"

"Yep. First real day at Southside High," he replied, gruffness in his voice showing how nervous he was about it. Sure, he had done well when he tried it out last week, but Jughead felt like a different person now. A person with a Southside Serpent's jacket, a girlfriend who was starting to periodically freak out in huge ways and a father figure in the hospital. How did everything change so fast?

"Uh oh," Fran said, taking the lasagna out of the microwave. Her tone was genuinely concerned.

"What's wrong?"

"Starting at a new school in the middle of the year is…. Not great," Jughead replied, being as honest as possible without showing his hand. This family was feeding and housing him until his Dad was out of jail. They deserved that much, not that he trusted them with the real stuff. He didn't trust anyone with the real stuff. Well, except Betty, but she was different. Betty had always been different. Fran brought the lasagna and fork to his spot at the table. A glass of milk seemed to appear out of nowhere in front of him.

"Honey, I'm sorry we're out of the perimeter for Riverdale High," she said softly, and Jughead could tell that if she had a choice, Fran would move her semi permanent trailer to the other side of the trailer park. Whoever made this town's high school lines was an idiot. Who divides up a trailer park like that? Jughead dug into his lasagna, surprised at how good it was. And how hungry he was.

"Let me guess," she continued, "You got a girlfriend."

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Fran scoffed lightly, finally sitting with Jughead at the table.

"A boy like you? As handsome as you are, and that broody persona you put on? I imagine the girls flock to you."

Jughead simultaneously blushed and made an odd noise of disapproval. 'Broody persona?' This was not an act! This was Jughead's life! He chose not to argue with her, though. It was way too early to rock the boat.

"No. They don't. But one girl happened to give me a chance."

"What's her name?"

"Betty. Betty Cooper." Fran looked puzzled for a moment.

"Cooper? You talkin' bout that family that was all over the local news a few weeks ago?"

"That's the one."

"You sure you should be messin' with the likes of them? Looks to me that they might be one crayon short of a box, if you know what I mean."

Jughead stopped eating for a moment, staring at his half-eaten lasagna. He could feel himself getting tense, his face forming a snarl. Who was this woman to judge who he dated? Or the family that she came from? She didn't know the Coopers, or Betty; and she certainly didn't know Jughead. Not that he disagreed with her. The Coopers were nuts, no doubt about that. But the same could be said for his family. And Jughead knew how much idle gossip could hurt someone. Fran saw immediately what was happening, placing her hand on Jughead's arm.

"Honey, I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I don't know the Coopers. I shouldn't have spoken about them like that. I'm just feeling a little protective is all. Forgive me?" Jughead glanced up at her face, seeing the look of regret. He nodded briefly, not saying anything and went back to eating. For a short while, the only sounds in the kitchen were the fork scraping against the plate. Jughead could see Fran squirming, obviously uncomfortable with the silence.

"Do you have any friends at Southside?" she asked finally, leaving the table to start wiping down the counters around the kitchen.

"No."

"Well, don't worry, hun. You'll make 'em. A boy like you? Everyone'll flock to you." Jughead snorted. He couldn't help it. Fran was zero for two in guessing how people responded to him, now. If this woman expected him to be popular anywhere, she did not understand how things worked in the Jughead Jones world. Fran caught the snort with a look of surprise, focusing her attention on Jughead again.

"I'm serious!" she said. He snorted again. "Well now, that's just rude."

"I'm sorry, Fran. I know you're trying to be nice or supportive or whatever. But I wasn't exactly Homecoming King at Riverdale High, and I don't expect to be popular at Southside either."

Something happened to Fran's face then. Her eyes narrowed slightly and her mouth formed an emotionless line. It made her seem older than she was, more jaded than Jughead had seen her. Fran's entire posture changed in its tautness, her hands tensing around themselves as she stood up straighter. An icy chill went down his spine. He even stopped eating mid bite, fork stuck in the air in between his plate and slightly gaping mouth. Lasagna spilled out of the fork and back onto the plate. It would have been comical if Fran did not look so serious.

"Let me make one thing clear, Jughead Jones. Riverdale High might be full of people who do not understand you, and therefore do not like you but you aren't going to Riverdale anymore. You're going to Southside now. We don't have the same people over here. We don't have the same hierarchy. And we certainly don't have the same ways of choosing who is and who is not social royalty. Just because you weren't recognized in Riverdale does not mean you won't be recognized in Southside. Do you understand me?"

Jughead hung on every word, knowing in his gut that everything she said was true. And he relished in it. Maybe a little too much. Jughead always told himself nothing would change when he went to Southside, wanting it to be true. But the more he realized that he could be well liked in his new school, the more he questioned his relationship with Betty. Not because he didn't love her, but more because he knew that as he got drawn into the culture of Southside, Jughead would just become more dangerous. It scared the hell out of him, but Jughead saw it as inevitable and his new Serpent jacket didn't help. Was Jughead really prepared to put Betty in that sort of danger?

He couldn't think like that. Not right now. Not when they needed each other. After a moment, Jughead realized Fran was waiting for an answer to her question. He nodded. Fran smiled again and Jughead breathed out, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

"I'll go ahead and let you eat, darlin'," she said breezily, her smile never fading. "Put the dishes in the sink when you're done with them, ok?"

"Sure thing."

"And Jughead?" Fran was standing in the doorway to exit the kitchen.

"Yeah, Fran?"

"Be sure and wear that Serpent's jacket to school tomorrow. Should be a real hit!" Fran left the room then, shouting from the hallway, "Goodnight!"

"Uh, night!" Jughead shouted back, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looked at his almost finished lasagna, trying and failing to take another bite before putting down the fork and just staring at the spot Fran was just standing.

How had she known about his new jacket?

An: Review, please! You know you want to. :D