A/N: Hi there. I'm terribly sorry this is so much horrifically later than all the other chapters. Life is getting in the way, as is mental health. I promise this story will be finished, though. I'm sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but there is one more planned that will hopefully be longer. Thank you for sticking with me, and I really appreciate all of the reviews and follows 3
In the weeks following the broken arm incident, Jughead tried to keep as close an eye on Betty as he could. Luckily, being at a publishing company meant that he could work from home for at least part of the week, so he could spend time with Betty while Lucas was at his job.
They sat amiably on the couch most of the time, watching TV shows and movies and stuffing their faces with food (Jughead quickly discovered that Betty was a better cook than he'd ever be). On some days, Jughead brought his laptop with him so he could work on editing a new manuscript, and Betty would read over his shoulder, making comments every now and then on how the work could be improved (Jughead quickly discovered that she might also be a better editor than he).
He tried his best to respect Betty's wishes and not bring up the abuse, but he was finding it increasingly difficult as time went on and she grew paler, bruises standing out in stark contrast to her skin, and thinner, no matter how much he made her eat.
The fall quickly evaporated into a New York City winter, and the snow that kept Jughead inside resulted in a lot of free time, mostly spent with Betty. As Thanksgiving quickly approached, they sat at her kitchen table, drinking hot coffee and discussing their plans for the holiday.
"Are you going back to Riverdale?" Betty asked, the sleeves of her pale pink sweater pulled so far past her wrists they almost enveloped her fingertips, cradling her cup of coffee for warmth.
"Yeah," Jughead responded, smiling at the thought of seeing his father, Archie, and Mr. Andrews again. "I'm excited to see everyone and for things to be normal in Riverdale again. How about you? Are you going to Montana?"
Betty shook her head.
"No, not this year, we're staying in the city. Some of Lucas's family might stop by, but nothing set in stone yet."
"Don't you want to go see Polly? And the twins?" Jughead inquired.
"Maybe next year." Betty smiled wryly.
Jughead hummed and sipped his coffee, but bit his tongue.
"Tell me more about Riverdale," Betty said, quickly changing the topic. "You mentioned some weird stuff going down while you were in high school, but never got into it."
Jughead grinned at her.
"Strap yourself in, Betty Cooper," he teased. "Prepare yourself for the story of Riverdale, the town with more dark secrets than people."
Betty laughed, and Jughead launched into his tale, starting from the summer of Archie's abandonment and Jason Blossom's mysterious death, describing the business deals of the Lodges and the Southside Serpents, and ending with the downfall of the Blossom family.
Betty listened, eyes wide. She listened with rapt attention, coffee slowly going cold, and didn't say a word until Jughead had finished the story, ending with a dramatic retelling of the day he and Archie had packed up and left for college, quite literally watching Riverdale and all its mysteries fade in the rearview mirror.
"No. Way." She said, once he had finished. "There's no way. One town cannot possibly have that much ridiculous drama."
"Better believe it." Jughead responded. "You're talking to someone who was directly involved in it. I decided to turn it into my first novel a while ago, when all the mysteries first started going down, but it's slow going. College and work took up a lot of my time, but I've been making progress ever since I settled down here."
"Will you let me read it once it's finished?" She asked, eyes shining with excitement.
Jughead felt his heart flutter. Cool it, Jones, he thought. Bury those feelings deep, deep down.
"Of course," he smiled, hoping he wasn't blushing. "I promise that you'll be the first to lay eyes on the completed novel."
Betty laughed. "I'm holding you to that. Even before Archie and your dad, okay?"
"I'm offended!" Jughead said, clutching his heart. "How could you ever think I'd break a promise?" He reached over and playfully nudged her shoulder.
Betty's reaction was instantaneous. She flinched away from his touch, but it couldn't completely hide her wince and slight gasp of pain when his hand made even the gentlest of contact with her shoulder.
Jughead felt the familiar fury rise up in him again as he immediately pulled his hand away from her, instead wrapping it around his coffee mug.
"Let me see." He said, barely containing his anger.
Betty avoided his gaze. After a moment of tense silence, she pulled the collar of her sweater past her shoulder. Jughead caught sight of a deep blue bruise that covered most of her shoulder and upper arm, disappearing down to cover the skin hidden by her sweater.
"That was last night?" Jughead ground out, remembering the faint sounds of thumping coming from her apartment.
Betty shrugged her sweater back into place.
"It doesn't matter." She said, staring at her coffee. Jughead felt the anger bubble up, out of his control.
"Like hell it doesn't matter!" Jughead yelled, rising to his feet so quickly that his chair toppled backwards. Betty tensed, curling back in her chair as far away from Jughead as she could get. She finally raised her eyes to look at him, and he caught a glimpse of absolute terror on her face before her hand (the one in the cast, in some ironic twist) came up to shield her head from a nonexistent blow.
Immediately, Jughead felt the anger seep out of him, replaced quickly by horror and disgust. He felt like he was going to throw up.
"Oh, God, Betty," he said, coming to kneel beside her. "I'm so sorry, please don't be afraid of me, I'm sorry."
Betty slowly lowered her hand, and Jughead gently reached out, holding it in his own. He felt tears burning his eyes, feeling ashamed and disgusted with himself for scaring Betty.
"It's okay," she muttered, cradling his cheek with her hand. "It's okay. Please don't cry."
Jughead smiled regretfully, covering Betty's hand on his cheek with his own. They were impossibly close to one another, and Jughead couldn't keep himself from staring at her full lips, wondering how they would feel against his own.
In the end, he wasn't the one who moved. One second, he and Betty were caught in a moment of silence, a moment of absolute clarity, before she moved. She gently captured his lips with her own, hands moving to rest around his neck and in his hair (under the beanie).
He reciprocated, pushing thoughts of Lucas to the back of his mind as he focused on the feeling of Betty's soft lips against his own, the taste of coffee strong in their mouths. For once in his life, his mind was completely silent, no anxiety-induced thoughts or theories running through his head. He had never felt so safe in his entire life; he felt as though he could live in this moment forever, and nothing in the entire world would ever be able to get to him.
He hoped Betty felt the same.
They broke apart after a while. He opened his eyes slowly, staring into Betty's own green ones. He smiled at her and she laughed airily, moving to rest her head on his shoulder. He buried his nose in her hair, smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo, and wrapped her up in his arms.
In that moment, he promised himself that he would finally take action. Betty may be in denial about Lucas's abuse, but Jughead was not, and it was time he helped her when she could not help herself.