Author's note: When I wrote this chapter, the outline was totally different. But some of the plot pieces gave way to the rest of the fic's storyline, and it really comes together. Also, a head's up that this is the halfway point! F.P. continues to live on the periphery of his son's life. Jughead is turning into a man. Also Bughead! Enjoy.

04.19.2014

F.P. waits patiently for Jughead to gather his thoughts. He's here unexpectedly, his second visit of the month, and he clearly has something to say. F.P. watches his hand go up to tug at a silver chain tucked into his shirt. Its new, and he wonders why his son is wearing a necklace but the thought is fleeting. His hair is longer, unruly without his beanie for the first time in years. There is just a peek of dark ink on his left arm, but he rolls the sleeve down before F.P. can see the tattoo clearly.

Jug presses a hand to his chest briefly, before looking at his father. "Don't be mad."

F.P. narrows his eyes, "Jughead…"

"I'm moving in with Betty," Jughead pauses then goes again. "Actually that's a lie. She already moved in. With me. In, uh, in New York City."

F.P. only looks at his son. Why are you telling me this now? He dreads the answer before he gets the question all the way out, "Jughead, did you get that girl pregnant?"

He thinks its almost comical the way Jughead's eyes bug, "No, no. We just…we just want to be together, Dad. But we did get- you know, never mind. I just, I wanted to tell you I'm not coming back home this summer. Or for awhile, I guess."

Now he understands. He briefly wonders what Jug decided not to tell him, but lets him keep that secret. For some reason, his son thinks there's things about his life best kept from F.P.

So he smiles, despite knowing that this means he's losing another little piece of his son, "Whatever makes you happy, Jug."

08.07.2014

There's a call late in to the summer. F.P. doesn't think much of it at first, Alice periodically fills him in on what Jughead won't nowadays. But he doesn't expect the venom in her voice when she speaks this time.

"Do you know what they did, F.P.?"

He's concerned, "Who, Betty and Jug? Do you mean the moving in together? He mentioned it, but that was months-"

"No, you fucking snake," she's seething at this point. "They got married. In New York. They came home and casually mentioned it, like it was just no big deal! In April, F.P.! Four months ago and not a word out of either of them, let alone an invitation. A city hall wedding. My daughter had a city hall wedding, and didn't even have the decency to tell me or her father about it for four months. For God's sake, its not like she's pregnant. They just wanted to! Honestly, what were they even thinking? They don't know how to make a marriage work; they can't even do their own taxes! Hal suggested they get an annulment, and you should've seen how upset those two got; they left, and went right back to New York. Betty hasn't picked up any of my calls in days! You know how much I love them, and I understand they might not be thrilled with Hal and I's disapproval, but they're children and they can't possibly understand the seriousness of all this…F.P., are you still there?"

"Uh yeah, I'm still here."

They're quiet on the phone as she seems to realize the weight of all this. She feels a fraction of the hurt he feels, having been kept out of the loop. Jughead is being intentionally selective in the parts of his life he shares with his father and it is painful.

Alice sighs, "They looked so happy, F.P."

He swallows, hard, and nods before remembering she can't see him.

"That's all we ever wanted, Allie."

10.06.2014

F.P. feels like he's drinking in his long lost son. Really it's only been a few months since he'd seen him, and he'd always gotten the weekly phone calls. But he's rarely gone this long without seeing him, and knowing that there was so much he was missing, so much being kept from him? Well, it was taking a toll on F.P.

He knew he needed a shave and that the bags under his eyes were bad. Despite only ever wanting to sleep, he can't. Food has gone from being uninteresting, which isn't surprising as its being served in prison, to down right unbearable. F.P. hadn't really ever given much thought to depression and all that shit, but he thinks this may be close enough.

His heart soars each time he speaks to Jughead, but it drops like a rock when he hangs up. Alice still calls every few weeks to tell him things Jug doesn't. One day, she sadly confided that Betty was saying less and less too; she found out about an internship acceptance only because Betty hadn't changed her forwarding address since moving in with Jughead.

"God, Jug, I'm so glad to see you," he breaths out, the first smile on his face in weeks is too big to contain, "I've missed your ugly mug, kid."

His son laughs, loudly and clearly, in a way he never would have years ago. He's so much brighter now; smiles more, outwardly broods less. The beanie comes off when he settles in to a place, no longer a safety blanket tugged when nervous. He has the beginning of a tattoo sleeve on his left arm; there's yet to be an explanation of the serpent curling up his elbow. He's still lanky as hell, but clearly grown. He's 20 today. There's that chain tucked around his neck, the one he doesn't pull out. Alice has no explanation for it either, but mentioned Betty has a similar one.

Despite being a husband now, he never tells F.P. about his marriage to the girl next door. There's no ring, no stories about my wife. He talks about Betty, but he never alludes to the change in their relationship, even after 6 months.

"I'm sorry it's been so long, Dad, classes have been crazy. I started working in the library, the public one with the lions? Between that and the bartending gig, I've been pretty busy." Jughead rubs his chin, F.P. thinks there might be more he wants to share. His son always seems to make himself appear when there's news to share.

"And uh, well another big thing, I guess. I finished my novel."

F.P. blinks, not expecting that. "Jug, that's great, I know how hard you've been working on it."

He nods along, "Yeah, and…it got picked up by a publisher. I got a publishing deal."

F.P. doesn't know what to say. He's not versed in the world of book writing at all, but he knows this is major. He just thinks, in the scheme of all the things Jughead doesn't share, this one seems less important. He can't help but wonder if Jug just keeps telling him a small part of his story, that there's something even bigger he still isn't saying.

And then:

"Dad, I haven't even told Betty yet. You were the first person I wanted to tell."

F.P. forgets any uncertainty with Jughead's reveal with that one sentence. His son had come to him first, to tell him something huge. He makes a quick mental note to brag to Alice about this during their next call.

"Well you know she's gonna be proud, boy." F.P. can't put all his feelings into words, so he keeps it casual. There's a sting in the back of his throat, the kind from swallowing one's emotions.

Jughead's smile is so loving, "Yeah, yeah she will. Its good, for us. There's an advance, so hopefully we can get out of that studio. She's been dropping hints about wanting actual walls between our bed and the front door."

F.P. is about to reply, but his son continues, "I just…Dad, this story is as much yours as it is mine. I just needed you to know that."

He nods, knowing he'll never be able to say things as simply, as beautifully as his son.

"Happy birthday, Jug."