I didn't know what I expected to happen when sleep finally took me. But, what I knew not to expect, was waking up. And that's exactly what I did. My eyes felt like they'd been glued shut when they finally cracked open. As they settled on the white ceiling, a soft beeping filling my ears, I knew I had failed. I knew I'd survived. This wasn't the afterlife—it was a hospital.
Immediately, my blood began to race and my body started moving. Shaking my head, my fingers grasping at the needle in my left arm, my feet fidgeting. Mumbling a string of incoherent, panicked 'no's. I'm sure I'd looked like a patient in a mental institution about to have a nervous breakdown. Because, in all reality, I was. I'd ripped the IV out before a large hand swallowed mine, stopping me cold. My eyes rounded as they moved up.
Landing right on Sweet Pea. He was leaning forward in the chair beside my bed, carefully gripping both my arms to hold me still. It was working just out of sheer shock. "Hey, hey- stop. What are you doing?" he asked, tentatively. I couldn't speak. Instead, my eyes dropped down to his hands. There was a certain pink tinge to his tan skin that I knew in my heart was a blood stain. His hands were warm against my skin. It made me feel like i'd been in the arctic my whole life.
Like it was the first time I was feeling warmth. "It wasn't...why...why- why am I here?" I questioned, moving my eyes to his face. They were still wide and rounded, my body gaining a slight tremble. What was coherent of my brain felt numb. It was one giant haze of the entanglement of my thoughts.
"Why are you here?" his eyebrows rose upon repeating my words. "You're here because you almost died, Diana."
"No, no, no- this wasn't supposed to happen..." I pulled my arms back and they slipped from his hands. And then I saw them. The bandages on my wrists. I held them up, palms skyward, and all I could do was stare at them. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to be found. The pain I'd fallen asleep to, bleeding out in my bathroom, came back in one bone-crushing wave. And I cried. It was an ugly, strangled sob that racked my whole body.
There was no way to get it back. It was my one chance to end all of this pain, all of these lies. And I'd failed. I'd failed again. "I wasn't supposed to live!" I sobbed, pulling at the bandage on my right wrist with an aching desperation. Sweet Pea reached for me again, grabbing me tighter this time, and I stopped only for the sake of my own tears.
He moved swiftly from the chair to the edge of the bed, most likely to better hold me still—once again holding my forearms. "Stop- Diana, stop it," there was a certain rasp, a certain ache to his voice that made my water-filled eyes moved to meet his. They were filled with intensity as they searched mine. "Why are you doing this? What happened? You were happy the last time I saw you—just last night."
"You- you don't understand, Pea. My parents, Jason, Polly getting locked up, Jughead—it's all my fault. I can't do this anymore! I can't...I can't keep lying to everyone, acting like none of it has anything to do with me," I tried to explain, holding back the tears as much as I could.
His eyebrows knitted softly, "Jason made his choice, so did Polly. And your parents? You couldn't have stopped that. But what happened with Jughead?"
I'd deflated, dropping my shoulders, relaxing the muscles that were taut in my arms. "Jughead hates me," I answered, on a hiccup. "The way he looked at me...he's never going to talk to me again. I'm such a failure."
"Don't say that," he shook his head.
"Sweets, I'm a terrible person. I lie to everyone I love every day of my life. And this?" I held up a wrist in a gesture. "Look at me—I failed to kill myself! I can't even do that right!"
"You couldn't kill yourself because I found you on your bathroom floor, in a pool of your own blood."
My features drooped with guilt. His expression was pained. Like it physically hurt to say those words. And maybe they did. Maybe that was why his under eyes were purple, the edges of them tinged pink? Maybe the one thing I hadn't accounted for when plotting my sudden death was sitting right in front of me trying not to cry? I was taken aback, to say the least.
My eyes welled up again as I slowly shook my head. "I'm so sorry, I never thought it would be you."
"Does it matter who it was? Diana, I..." he stopped himself suddenly, lips parted as though he'd wanted to say more. His hands relinquished their hold on my arms and instead found a place to rest on my cheeks. My fingers gripped at the arms of his jacket to keep myself steady. His eyes were glistening—even in the dimly lit hospital room. "I almost lost you. I thought I would never see you again."
There was a crack in his voice, and I could've sworn I saw a tear racing down his tanned cheekbone. But I didn't much pay attention. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. He held onto me tightly, so tightly I thought I might not be able to breathe. His face was pressed against the skin of my neck, and I slid a hand into his hair. "I'm sorry," I whispered it out. "I never wanted to leave you- i'm so sorry, Sweet Pea."
It was in that moment I knew when I asked myself if it was worth it, that I'd given the wrong answer. It was not worth it. It wasn't worth this. It wasn't worth the shaking boy I held in my arms, holding onto me as though I were about to disappear. When we'd finally parted some time later, I'd learned that Cash was sleeping on a love seat on the other side of the room. She'd come to the hospital with Sweet Pea awake originally, but fell asleep after an hour of waiting to see me.
Even after sleeping for so long, all I wanted to do was sleep more. So Sweet Pea took off his jacket, getting comfortable with his shoulders against the pillows, relaxed along the length of the bed. And I laid my head on his chest where I snuggled in against his side beneath the blanket, his arm remaining reassuringly around me. I was not okay. Not at all. But it felt like I stood a chance with him holding me like that, his heart thumping softly in my left ear.
A wave of calm covered me as the sound filtered in, and I let my eyes close. That was the beginning of a new end. But it was not like the first. The first ending was the ending of my life. This ending was the ending of a different life—the life i'd created for myself in order to keep my sister. It was still a possibility that I could lose Cash. But I could not keep up this act. And It was going to finally end.
My eyes fluttered open to the sound of a sigh, followed by a whispering of words. In my groggy state, I couldn't tell what was said, but I knew it was Sweet Pea. He was still with me and I was still snuggled tightly into his side where i'd fallen asleep. The light in the room seemed brighter as I tried to keep my eyelids from closing again. "Pea?" My voice was so small, I was surprised he'd heard it.
His body shifted beneath me, "I'm here."
"Is she awake?"
That was a third voice. One so unique, so familiar, that I knew almost instantly that it was Cash. I lifted my head just slightly, just enough so see over Sweet Pea's chest. And, sure enough, it was Cash. She looked overly-excited and bubbly standing beside the bed. "Hey, Cash," I greeted, forcing my voice into a louder volume to better be heard.
Cash gasped. She was leaning against the edge of the bed in a millisecond, throwing half her body across Sweet Pea to wrap her arms around me. I groaned a little out of instinct. But I hugged her back as best I could in the awkward position. Sweet Pea was trapped in the middle of a Cassidy sandwich, but I don't think he minded. When she finally pulled away, she'd asked what happened—why I was bleeding so much.
I told her the truth. There was no way the first thing I did after coming back from the dead would be telling a lie—especially not to my sister. I said it in simpler terms. That I was hurting and I had been for a while, and I got confused and made a mistake. But I made it clear that I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It went better than I expected. She didn't act hurt. She was only worried about me and if I was okay now. When I told her I was in fact okay, she gave a sigh of relief.
"Good. I'm not sure how much longer I could've waited," she said. "I'm starving."
A small chuckle escaped me, and the first genuine smile of this new life came to my lips. I tipped my head back to look up at Sweet Pea, who shifted his eyes from Cash to me in response. "Why don't you guys go get breakfast at Pop's?"
Any kind of good emotion on his features seemed to pause in hesitation. It wasn't hard to tell what he was thinking. That maybe, just maybe, if he left me alone I would try to hurt myself. But that honestly had not been my intention in suggesting they leave. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.
I'd pushed myself up more into a sitting position and freed my left arm, resting my elbow against the pillow beside his shoulder as my fingers slid into his hair. "I'm not leaving you again," my voice was quieted, calm, but full of certainty. "I'll be right here, waiting for you, when you get back. I promise."
He still seemed a bit hesitant, but his features relaxed as he tipped his head, bringing his lips forward to meet mine. It was a gentle, soft gesture. One that spread a welcomed warmth through my veins. When he pulled away, I smiled softly at him. "Go, before Cash has an aneurysm." My eyes moved to the right, landing on Cash, where she was bouncing on her heels beside the bed. Sweet Pea sighed lightly as he untangled from me and slid off the bed.
It wasn't what I'd wanted, him leaving. But making Cash suffer through an empty stomach just so I could keep cuddling was too selfish. So I kept my small smile present until they'd gone. Then, relaxing into the pillows, I sighed. It felt odd to be alone. With nothing but the soft machine beeping. The sound caused me to glance down at my left arm. Sometime during my slumber, a nurse must've put the IV back in. Because, there it was, taped to the underside of my forearm.
The cotton bandages wrapped around my wrists were a bit like wearing bracelets. But they felt wrong, like my body knew they shouldn't be there. "Diana," the sudden voice startled my head up, my eyes landing on the form—no, forms—moving into my room. "Oh, thank goodness."
It was Betty, Veronica, Kevin, and Archie. They all wore worried expressions of concern. My eyebrows drew together. "What are you guys doing here?"
"We're so sorry we weren't here sooner," Archie said, as they came to a stand still beside my bed.
"The party got really weird after you left. We didn't get your boyfriend's messages until this morning," Kevin explained, his tone full of guilt. "But we're so happy you're okay."
Having all of them there, in the room, made me feel a bit overwhelmed with self-awareness. How I must've looked, how I must've sounded. I didn't know how much they knew about why I was here. But the bandages on my wrists would tell them enough. "It's okay, really. Don't feel bad," I said, my features sunken into a dry attempt at upbeat.
Veronica surprised me, dropping onto the edge of the bed by my ankles. "Diana, if you need anything—anything at all—we're here for you."
My fingers fidgeted with the blanket over my knees, my heart beating fast enough to make me a bit anxious. I took in a breath at her words. They were unexpected, but appreciated. Though I wouldn't feel comfortable yet coming to all of them for emotional support, it was a kind gesture. "Thanks, you guys," I glanced at all of them in turn, before settling my eyes on the blanket. "Have any of you heard from Jughead? Or FP?"
"We haven't talked to Jughead since the party last night," Archie answered.
His voice sounded disappointed, empty. Like he, too, felt like he was responsible for last night's tragedy. I nodded a little. It was to be expected. If Sweet Pea used my contacts to get ahold of people, Jughead would've seen my caller ID, and he would have turned it off.
Betty took a step forward, causing me to glance up, "We haven't talked to FP, but Sweet Pea said he called him and left a message. Also, Diana...I just want to say I'm really sorry. I should've listened to you when you said it was a bad idea. But I didn't and, maybe if I had, you wouldn't have done what you did-"
I'd immediately shaken my head. "No, Betty, don't," I stopped her, interrupting. "I hurt myself because of a lot of reasons. But none of them were named Betty Cooper. Okay?"
She nodded, but stepped forward again, bending to wrap her arms around me. And I'd hugged her back just as tightly as she'd hugged me. Betty and I had never been too close. But it'd felt like she was trying to be closer to me since she and Jughead started really getting serious. It was nice. Spending time with her, having her support.
When she stepped back, chuckling awkwardly a little, Kevin glanced between us. Then he held out his arms, stepping toward me. "Okay," he said, seriously. "Now I need a hug." I laughed and opened my arms, wrapping my arms around him after he put his arms around me. Veronica stood up from the bed.
She smiled, clapping her hands together once, "Me next!"
"Ugh, guys," I whined, sarcastically. "Can't you be like normal friends and act like you don't care?"
"Sorry, Diana, but you're stuck with us," Betty nodded, smiling brightly.
When Kevin stepped back and moved away, sure enough, Veronica came up to me next. I hugged her, too. Despite all we'd been through with boyfriend woes and my bitter stubbornness, it felt like a true reconciliation, the start of an actual friendship between us. She moved back after a moment and sidled into the group. The last person standing left to hug was Archie Andrews.
My eyes moved to his, catching them before they could look away. Inhaling, I made a motion with my hand. "Get over here, Arch," I decided. Then, adding seriously, "Before I change my mind."
A closed-mouthed smile broke out across his lips and he didn't hesitate to come forward. This was not a true forgiveness, or a truly forgotten grudge. I still held my own personal dislikes of Archie. But when he put his arms around me in a hug, I hugged him back regardless. It felt good. It felt good to touch people. To feel alive. His hug didn't last as long as the others. He'd stepped away after a short moment.
But it was enough. The only person I'd truly wanted to hug, wasn't there. So hugging everyone else in his place would have to do. Then I heard it. Just as Archie was moving back from the bed, a voice came from closer to the door. All heads turned, all eyes moved—all in pure surprise. My heart shot up into my throat as I breathed in sharply at his appearance.
Jughead stood in the doorway to the room. He looked to be frozen there, in that place, his eyes aimed at mine. He was in shock of the scene. That much could be told by his expression alone. No one said anything for a moment. No one could. My eyes began to sting looking at him, watering up. There was a certain shade of guilt, a shade of pain on his features, that I recognized. Suddenly he was moving, walking toward me.
As he got closer, the pink tinting the corners of his eyes and the glistening sheen across them became visible. He was just about as ready to cry as I was. It became clear what he was going to do moments before he did. I opened my arms, just before his arms went around my neck and shoulders, and I held onto him tightly—almost as tightly as he was holding onto me. He buried his face in my shoulder but I could tell he was crying by the tremble of his body.
The muffled sniffling, uneven footing. Holding onto him, breathing him in, made the small start of tears turn quickly into chest-aching sobs. "I'm sorry, Diana," Jughead's voice was incredibly muffled, slightly distorted, but I could make out his words well enough. "I'm so sorry."
I sniffled hard, calming myself down, as I rubbed my hand across his shoulder blades soothingly. "It's okay, Jug- it's okay. I'm okay."
"But you almost weren't. I shouldn't have said those terrible things-"
My hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him away enough to see his face, and then they slid to his cheeks to force him to look at me. It worked, though his cheeks were wet as his lower lip quivered. "I forgive you, Jughead. Okay? I forgive you," I spoke with a strong voice, but I was holding back a tumbling wave of water. "I'm here. You're here. That's all that matters to me."
A sudden wave of emotion overtook him, and he fell into me, hugging me again, with tightly closed eyes. I sniffled hard and rested my left cheek against his shoulder, my hand resuming its soothing motion across his shoulder blades. With the new position, I could see the others in the room. They remained quiet through Jughead and my reunion. But Kevin and Archie looked slightly saddened, moved. And both Veronica and Betty had glistening eyes.
None of them had seen Jughead Jones in crumbles. But I had. I had seen it a few times. Many nights, he would break down. It was always when talking about his family. Not being able to see his sister, or his mother. How his father never was around when he needed him. A crying session would always end with us curled up against the pillows, his head against my chest, arms around my torso—and I would just hold him. It was the only reassurance I could offer that seemed to do any good.
After a moment, Jughead pulled himself together—for the most part—and pulled away. He wiped the water away from his cheeks with his jacket sleeves and sniffled. Then his eyes settled on my lap—more specifically, the bandaged wrists resting on it. "Do they hurt?" he asked, quietly. Slowly, gently, he plucked my right arm off my lap and took it into his hands, bringing my wrapped wrist against his chest—sliding his fingers through mine, all in one fluid motion.
I shook my head, wiping my under eyes with my other wrist. "Not anymore. I've got pain killers in my system."
He nodded a little, mostly to himself, as his eyes fell downcast. I was sure that it felt awkward for the others. But no one displayed signs of feeling that way. "I got your voicemail. I went to Ben's but, no one was there, and then I saw your bathroom...so I came straight here," Jughead explained, half in thought while he spoke. "From now on—if you call, I'm answering it. I promise."