Author's note: Jughead really loves Betty. F.P. really loves his son. Sometimes love hurts. This year is intentionally short; we're building up the distance! That's all! Enjoy.

03.21.2016

He gets a package.

Jughead hasn't been to visit since January, but the calls are regular. F.P. knows he's busy, with classes and two jobs and a wife. So when he picks up the box, he's a little surprised Jug hadn't mentioned it.

C.O. Peters is at the post today. He looks vaguely annoyed as F.P. signs out his mystery gift. He narrows his eyes before saying, "You know, the Warden had to read this whole fucking thing himself when it came in. Your kid's publisher made a big fuss about 'limiting exposure' or some shit, so none of us could be the ones to check it. Like any of us don't already know why you're here. Said it was because it wasn't on the shelves till the end of the year or whatever."

F.P. stares blankly, not really sure what all that means.

Peters rolls his eyes, "He said its the best fucking thing he's read in ages."

He pushes the package at him and turns back to his station. F.P. heads to his cell to examine the weighty package. He's breathless as he sees the crisp pages, and begins to flip through.

Sins of the Father.

By Forsythe P. Jones III.

There's a dedication page, and it reads:

To the Andrews', thank you for all you did for me. To my Dad, thank you for for keeping me safe from what I couldn't know.

Elizabeth, this is all for you. I am all yours. I love you, I love you, I love you.

He reads the whole thing in a few days, and then starts again. He doesn't quite know what to say to Jughead when they speak next, but he thinks they understand each other, after digesting his son's writing. When he speaks to Alice next, she's grounded by it. They don't say much, as though Jughead had taken the words from all their mouths.

05.12.2016

The call is brief. Jughead spends the whole time bragging about Betty, and how she looked in her graduation gown, honors tassels galore as she finished her journalism program early. F.P. already heard all this from Alice, but he engages anyway, knowing how proud his son is of that girl.

"Hey, I know I haven't come around for a while, but Betty wants to go back to Riverdale for a few weeks this summer, and I have the time off, so I'll be seeing you soon, Dad."

F.P. smiles into the phone, letting his hopes soar at the thought of seeing his boy's face. "Can't wait, Jug."

06.19.2016

Six months since he's seen Jughead, and its like he's seeing a stranger.

Jug's hair is curling around his neck, the longest its ever been. His left arm is almost covered half way down his forearm, flowers blossoming around the snake. There's a tattoo behind his right ear F.P. can't make out. His shoulders are broader, and he looks so grown up. It takes him a minute to realize there's a ring on his left hand and the absence of the chain at his neck. He doesn't mention it, not really sure what it means.

"Happy Father's Day, old man." His grin is brilliant, all teeth.

F.P. laughs, "Careful there kid, you'll be catching up before you know it."

Jughead hums, "Don't tell Betty that, she's convinced she found a grey hair the other week."

"She doing okay?"

"Yeah, she's amazing," F.P. notes the way his son touches his thumb to his wedding band. "She's taking the summer to write some freelance stuff. She has this position at a publishing house as a junior editor starting in August, then she wants to get going on applying to grad school."

F.P. smiles, "Alice must be proud."

"She is. She is." Jughead looks at his hands with a soft smile, "So am I."

12.08.2016

For the first time, F.P. is the one who calls Alice.

She accepts the call on the third ring, "F.P., is everything alright?"

He sighs into the phone, "Yeah, yeah, I just…Jug told me they're not coming back to Riverdale for Christmas."

Alice is quiet for a beat, "They're going to Hawaii."

He wants to scoff. Hawaii? Jug had told him they would be busy and with his book tour starting in the new year, as well as his final semester at NYU. He can't blame his kid for taking a vacation with his girl; hell, if F.P. could of course he'd choose white sand beaches and tiny bikinis over visiting a snowy prison upstate.

"I think…I don't know F.P., I feel like we're losing them somehow." Alice sounds concerned, contemplative.

"What do you mean, Allie?"

She sighs. He tries to think back to the time when she never used to do that. "I don't know, F.P. I don't know."

He nods to himself and they hang up.