Just a quick trigger warning, I know I have failed to put TW on some of my chapters, but this one does deal heavily with anxiety and panic attacks, so if you are sensitive to those, please be careful with this chapter.
I hope you enjoy despite all the heavy material that has been in this story, and all the material I will continue to touch on. I always strive for it to be in good taste and to mean something, to address real situations and emotions, real mental health/trauma concerns that people go through, all to promote healing. That's why I write a lot of the time. Not only to tell stories but hopefully to heal, and I hope that my readers can be touched or get whatever they need out of my stories.
Thanks for reading, take what you need.
Chapter 21 – Friday Night Lights Pt. II
Cheers and shouts emanated from the stands along with the spirited fighting songs of the marching band as Betty and Kevin weaved their way through the crowd. The air above them was growing colder, the smell of snow still hanging heavy, and they passed a few maintenance workers ready with buckets of salt on their way up into the bleachers.
Betty scanned the crowd, searching until she saw a hand pop up from a few rows back, flagging them down from behind a group of students with foam fingers and painted signs. The pair climbed up the creaky steps and as they approached, Jughead threw Betty a thumbs up along with an enquiring stare as she sat down next to him, Kevin taking the place on her other side. She gave him a thumbs up and a smile in response, and he nodded his head, turning his eyes back toward the field.
"You're just in time for kick-off," Jughead said, scooping up a handful of popcorn. "We've got the ball first. I think."
Betty looked down at the field and saw the team lining up at the edge of the endzone, the players bouncing on their feet as they got into position, waiting under the vibrant sheen of the stadium lights for the first play to begin. Number 10 peered up from his placement at the end of the line closest to the stands, catching Betty's eye and waving. She smiled, waving back at Archie before the team all stooped down and a few shouts drifted over the field.
A hush fell over the crowd as the ball was laid in its holder, the opposing team staring forward dauntingly as their kicker sprang on his feet and ran forward, booting the football clear down the field and right into Monroe's hands.
The crowd burst into exuberant yelling and applause as both teams charged forward. Archie ran in front of Monroe, carving a path down the field for his teammate, tackling players out of the way until both of them got snagged and taken down around their forty-yard line.
Betty and Kevin cheered, and students and parents alike threw their hands up, waving pennants and signs around as the referees blew their whistles and hustled onto the field for the next play's setup. Archie helped Mad Dog to his feet and the two of them chest-bumped before jogging over to the offensive line.
A voice crackled over the stadium through the speakers, the commentator reading out the stats and plays as the Vixens started into one of their sideline chants. Veronica and Toni waved their pom-poms in an arc as Cheryl popped on top of two other girls' shoulders. Betty and Kevin's cheering died down and Betty turned to Jughead, elbowing him in the arm. He gave her a small admittance of enthusiasm through a shrug and cheesy grin, holding out his bag of popcorn to her.
She grabbed a handful of the snack as the time on the scoreboard flashed, the clock ticking down as the next play on the field began.
The commentator's voice swirled with the warble of the marching band across the lit-up football field. Betty passed her gaze around the lively stadium, reveling in the raucous scene around her. It was a far cry from the quiet she had been living with the past month, and a welcome change at that.
She looked between Kevin and Jughead, a feeling she thought at one point would never come again rippling through her, and a thought she never thought she would have passed through her mind:
Thank God for high school football.
xxx
A whistle signaled the end of a time-out and the players jogged off the sidelines to repopulate the field. They were well into the second quarter now and the Bulldogs were down by three points with about two minutes left on the clock until halftime. It looked as though they were going to try for a steady offensive advance down the field, especially since the uneven terrain had spoiled a few of their key plays, then go for a field goal to tie it up if they were able to get close enough.
At least that's what Kevin had gleaned from Veronica who had gleaned that from Archie during the time-out. He had returned from the concession stand with a cola, a second bag of popcorn for Jughead, and apparently the team's strategy.
Good to see he was having fun tonight, too.
Betty felt something cold land on her cheek and she looked up. The gathering clouds had finally broken and soft snowflakes were beginning to fall from the sky and down over the crowd. She pulled her coat a little tighter, silently cursing her sling again.
Another whistle sounded and the field sprung to life once more, this time surrounded by a light white flurry. The center snapped the ball to Archie, and the quarterback rushed forward into the mass on the line, only to be swiftly tackled by one of the rival linebackers.
"Ouch," Jughead and Kevin both recoiled, and Betty glanced at the scoreboard. While they still had a whole half to take the lead, she knew they would all feel more comfortable if they at least tied it up now. And that hit might have bruised a little more than Archie's pride.
The team raced to huddle up and the Vixens started into another cheer, stirring the crowd into a frenzy of shouts and stomps, the bleachers rattling around them. Betty joined in, she and Kevin reciting the Vixens' chant along with them. The players hunched down into their positions as the snow slowly continued to fall around them. Archie shouted his cadence and in an instant, the ball was snapped.
Chnkkk. Ffffpp.
A cheer stuck in Betty's throat as she froze.
She whipped her head to the side, looking around briefly as she sucked in a quick breath. The rattling on the bleachers continued and she ducked her head, shaking away the nerves that were trying to creep up at what she thought she had heard. She turned back to the field.
Chnkkk. Ffffpp.
Betty froze again, this time her hand wrapping compulsorily around the edge of the bleachers, the cold of the metal seat cutting through her woolen gloves.
There it was again.
"Betty?"
Jughead gingerly laid a hand on her shoulder and she could see a concerned look cross his face. "You alright?"
"Do you hear that noise?" she asked, slowly rising from her seat to take a better look around the stadium.
Jughead scrunched his brow, an eye remaining on her as he looked around too. "What noise? There's a lot going on." He continued swinging his head around, landing on the corner of the stands.
"There's like a scraping or something," she answered, her eyes moving around the crowd.
The bleachers began to vibrate even more as the student section jumped to their feet, the shouting and cheering growing to a thunderous rumble. Kevin whooped beside her, bumping into her shoulder. Betty turned her attention back to the field; Archie had broken away from the defensive line and was past the first-down line, currently barreling toward the endzone with a few linemen on his tail.
"There's a couple of guys spreading salt, is that what you mean?" Jughead shouted beside her, cutting through the cheers.
Betty turned in the direction he was pointing and sure enough, the maintenance workers she had seen earlier were spreading salt around the concrete walkways. Betty watched for a moment as one stuck a shovel into the large bucket he had with him, the metal scraping against the brittle crystals.
She swallowed and looked down, aware that Jughead still had a wary eye on her. She took another deep breath, trying to get rid of the harsh sting that had entered her mind.
It was just an ordinary shovel being used by ordinary guys for an ordinary job.
"Why?" Jughead tried asking, a bit of concern in his voice. "Is everything okay?"
She didn't answer and instead turned back to the field. Archie was pushing himself harder down the field, dirt flying around him as his cleats dug into the turf, the linemen's hands just out of reach of his back.
As Betty watched him run, she could feel her heart rate increase yet everything around her seemed to slow down. The cheers sounded as though someone had turned the base up and she felt herself grab at her shoulder even though she couldn't remember telling her brain to do that.
Dirt was flying around the players now as a mass of them sprinted down the field. Dirt flew in front of Betty's eyes too and she could feel it all over her as Archie reached the twenty-yard line.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe, she told herself, her lungs jamming against her ribs. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she was running down a field too.
"No."
An unrelenting moon hung in the sky, glaring down through the fog that had set out of nowhere. Betty shut her eyes tight again, then re-opened them, the football field was around her.
Archie spun around the safety, his foot seeming to catch on the hard ground and he faltered a moment before regaining his step.
Chnkkk. Ffffpp.
It felt like something had slammed against Betty's shoulder and she looked around but couldn't see anything through the dark. There were eyes though, feral blue eyes staring at her.
"NO."
The earth shook around her as the bass continued to thud, and Betty caught a glimpse of Archie through the dark. He was smeared in grass and dirt, and something that looked a lot like blood.
"Betty, Betty, hey!"
Someone was shouting at her but it was far away. There was a quiet raging around her, and a fog had settled. She couldn't see where she was going. No one could see where she was going.
Chnkkk. Ffffpp.
The bridge.
Archie was heading for the footbridge but he wasn't going to make it. He couldn't see it but someone was coming up right behind him. Betty opened her mouth to warn him but she couldn't get any sound out.
Ten-yard line.
Her heart thumped as she helplessly watched the shadow close in, the wind roaring around her, an almost human quality to its howls. Betty's lips moved, trying to warn Archie of the danger behind him.
Chnkkk. Ffffpp.
Five-yard line.
An icy grip was wrapping itself around Betty and she looked pleadingly up at the moon, snow fluttering around its uneasily bright light. Her hand was on her neck and she could feel dirt trickling down it. She gasped, her breath catching against her ribs, and stared back at Archie just as he was knocked to the ground.
The sky and the ground switched places and Betty felt herself crash into the grass, the impact cold and hard. Edgar was right above her, grasping her shoulders and looking directly into her eyes.
"Betty, are you okay?"
Edgar gave her a worried look and Betty blinked, confusion taking hold. The cold crept in around her and she blinked again, and suddenly it was like a switch had flipped and her surroundings rushed in around her, as though someone had turned up the volume. A horn blasted through the stadium and she realized she was still sitting in the bleachers.
Betty looked around. Jughead was standing directly in front of her, his hands wrapped around her shoulders, his eyes panicked. Betty took a breath, slowly wrenching her hand away from her neck. Referees were running out onto the field as a mass of football players turned themselves over on the field, climbing to their feet.
"Betts, you were yelling." Jughead's voice was soft, a warble to it. "And it wasn't at the game."
Betty swallowed a shaky breath and looked around some more. The maintenance workers were still shoveling salt over the blacktop, small snowflakes swirling around them. She could see Kevin down by the fence, hanging over it as he hurriedly talked to Veronica and Cheryl, the three of them sending small glances up in her direction.
She couldn't seem to find her voice yet, and she felt the shake in her hand continue. She stuck it in her pocket as Jughead ducked his head, running his tongue over his teeth as he looked around. He locked eyes with Kevin and Veronica, and both broke away from the fence. Kevin hustled over to where the drum major stood and began into a hushed conversation. The major nodded and soon an enthusiastic tune started up. An animated chant joined in as Veronica and Cheryl hopped around the sidelines, the Vixens beginning into another routine.
The crowd joined in, clapping along, and Jughead took the opportunity to shuffle Betty out of her seat, gently pushing her toward the steps as all the other students were preoccupied.
"Andrews!"
Betty looked over her shoulder at Coach Clayton's shout. Archie was running off the field and toward the fence in her direction.
"Andrews! You have to stay on the field for the call."
Archie stopped, looking between his coach and out toward Betty. Reggie and the rest of the team were yelling at him as well. He bounced on his feet, glancing at the scoreboard, then continued jogging in her direction.
"ANDREWS!"
Betty felt Jughead wrap an arm around her and she faced forward again as the crackle of the commentator's voice began to echo over the field.
"After review, the ruling on the field stands. The ball crossed the line before the player's knees hit the ground. Touchdown Bulldogs."
The stadium erupted into cheers and the marching band become even louder.
Betty sent one last glance backward, just in time to see Archie become swarmed by his celebrating teammates. But he remained staring forward.
He removed his helmet and the distressed look on his face felt like the final nail in the unfortunately literal coffin Betty could see behind her eyes.
Jughead looked behind him as cheers and shouts reverberated after the touchdown call, carefully guiding Betty to the opening underneath the bleachers and away from the throng of people within the stadium. While there was still rattling above them as the spectators stomped their feet and jumped on the metal stands, there did seem to be a pocket of more considerable quiet around them now.
Betty broke away from his grip and began to pace in front of him, counting to herself, her breathing looking forced and shallow. Jughead followed her movements with his eyes.
He had seen the effects of her anxiety many times before, and he had calmed her down just as many, but he wasn't sure he had ever seen her have a full-blown panic attack. She usually didn't let him.
Her face had gone white as soon as she had heard the noise of the shovels, and her mumbling had turned into shouting, her eyes locked on nothing as though she had been in a trance. He hadn't known what to do, but figured he needed to try something when her cries of, "he's not going to make it," had turned into, "I'm not going to make it."
Betty stopped and leaned against one of the metal posts, her face slightly dazed, the hand on her side going toward her stomach, and then suddenly she was bent over puking.
Jughead turned his head away and sighed, shrugging his jacket higher over his shoulders before stepping forward, proceeding to hold Betty's hair.
"Hey," he whispered, offering a crumpled napkin from his pocket out to her as she straightened up. "Can you breathe? Do you need some water?"
Betty nodded, then shook her head, reaching for the sad napkin. Her eyes were glassy, a spaced-out look still to them as she tried to reclaim her focus. Jughead roved his eyes, giving her a quick inspection. The strap on her sling was all twisted up, but she hadn't appeared to hurt herself up on the bleachers.
Jughead quietly watched as she cleaned herself up, wondering if the shivers he could see were from the cold or from sapped strength. He also couldn't help but wonder why the sound of a shovel was the thing to completely rip her away from the world.
"Was it about what you and Veronica talked about?" he asked.
Betty stared forward, her chest still rising and falling awkwardly. She slowly shook her head.
"No."
Jughead ran his tongue over his teeth. It never ceased to amaze him just how much distress one little word could cause.
Betty's face contorted and she began to pace again. Jughead backed up and let her, unsure of what he needed to do at the moment.
A buzzer sounded and Jughead glanced through the slots of the bleachers. The commentator's scratchy voice was announcing the official start of half-time and there was a scraping and rumbling above them as people began to come down from the stands.
"I got away from him," Betty stammered. "I thought I could make it."
Jughead turned back around, his eyebrows rising.
"I didn't try to run at Thornhill, but at the park-," she swung her arm around as she continued to pace over the rocky dirt. "I thought I could make it."
"We found your badge. You did really good getting us a message," Jughead swiftly added, stepping closer to her. She was slightly babbly, but he seemed to be following, which was good considering at the moment his thoughts were mostly flying between "shovel, park, hole, bad."
Faint cheering drifted from the field as Jughead and Betty stood awkwardly across from each other. Betty was panting, her skin still sullen and pale, its sallow accentuated against her bright blue sweatshirt. She was shaking pretty hard and he didn't think the cold was helping, despite them now being out of the snow.
Jughead was a man of words and he didn't think those would be much help against the lingering effects of a panic attack. But hopefully, he could think of something that would, as her panting started to detour back into hyperventilation territory, and she closed her eyes, shaking her head as her feet began to move fretfully again.
"It was so dark. I couldn't breathe." Betty was holding her hand over her chest, her other arm squirming in the sling. "Oh god, I can't breathe."
Jughead began to pace alongside her, his own heart pounding. He wasn't sure if he should try to say anything or even touch her. He had pulled her out before, but he didn't know if that would work a second time. He wracked his brain, trying to recall anything he'd read about panic attacks, and instead found one of those way-too-cheery daily tips the calming app kept sending his phone pop into his head.
Grounding. Yeah, that's it, he needed to help ground her to the present, get her to focus on something other than the intrusive thoughts invading her mind.
"Betts, hey, can you look at me?" He walked next to her, trying to get her attention.
She glanced at him and woah, her eyes were gone again. She was probably barely even able to acknowledge him.
Dark, couldn't breathe, hole, shovel, park, bad.
He was trying to keep his own intrusive thoughts at bay.
She needed one of the other senses to pull her out, something physical maybe. He looked around, which, after thinking about it, felt very stupid considering they were standing underneath bleachers with nothing around them, and shoving her hand onto a metal pole didn't seem like the way to go. He wished they were in her room where there were plenty of things to act as a security blanket.
An idea popped into his head, and he stopped in his tracks. He turned, facing Betty as she strode toward him. Before she could turn back around in her pace, Jughead quickly yanked the beanie off his head, slipping it onto hers, pressing it around her hair and over her ears.
Betty slowed, letting out a sharp breath. She started to blink, the fog lifting from her face, and reached up to her head, running a hand over the hat.
She stood still for a moment, the knit of her gloves taking in the knit of the hat, then finally gulped down a deep breath.
"I'm going to get hat hair," she softly murmured.
A smile curled on the side of Jughead's mouth and he shoved his hands in his pocket, relief flowing through him. "Don't worry, I'll still think you're cute."
They stared at each other, both standing a bit awkwardly. Betty pulled in shallow breaths, looking around the stadium, her eyes slowly roving instead of fretfully darting as she actually took in her surroundings. They came to rest in the direction of the field as cheers and conversations spilled throughout the stadium.
"I need to go home."
Jughead cocked his head sadly at the quiet statement.
Betty swallowed and swung her head back toward Jughead.
"Can you take me home?"
There was a look he'd seen a thousand times now on her face, one that meant a puzzle piece had fallen into place, except this time there was shame in the mix.
Jughead wrinkled his brow as Betty stepped toward him, cradling his cheek in her hand. "I know you've been watching from the outside looking in, and you're probably confused. And I promise I'll explain everything, but there's someone I need to talk to first." She breathed in. "I want to finally go home."
He stared into her eyes, which had grown steadfast, yet oh so tired, and gave her a small smile, reaching up to grab her hand in his. "Of course. I can take you."
He could hear a faint pang of disappointment in his voice, hoping she would have said more, but at the same time, he understood.
Betty nodded as the two of them began to walk back toward the blacktop of the stadium, but she kept looking anxiously through the slits in the bleachers toward the field.
"Hey, they'll understand." Jughead could read the guilt crossing her face, and he glanced back too. "Come on-," he gently pulled her closer. "Let's make a break for it before anyone else thinks to use under here as a hide-out spot."
The horns and drums of the marching band's performance swirled through the chilly air as they slowly walked down the rocky path away from the bleachers, the festive fanfare guiding them out of the crowded stadium toward home.
"After review, the ruling on the field stands. The ball crossed the line before the player's knees hit the ground. Touchdown Bulldogs."
The stadium thundered, air horns and shouts filling the air. The marching band and the Vixens roared to life as cheers and music added to the cacophony. The Bulldogs swarmed Archie, slapping his back and squeezing his shoulders.
"Dude!" Reggie barreled into Archie's side, which was still a little tender from some previous tackles. "That was amazing!" Archie didn't react and Reggie shook him slightly. "Uh, dude?"
Archie took off his helmet, breathing heavily, and stared out into the crowd. "I think she's hurt."
"Who?" Reggie tried to see where Archie was looking.
"Betty." Archie stepped forward, trying to get away from his mass of teammates.
Betty and Jughead were hurrying away from the bleachers, and when Betty turned around, locking eyes with him, it looked like she was stuck in a waking nightmare.
"Andrews! Mantle!" Coach Clayton's bellow cut through the noise. "There's still 20 seconds left on the clock! Huddle up, we've still got the ball!"
Reggie tapped Archie's chest. "Come on, man."
Archie didn't budge.
"Andrews!" Clayton's yell was a bit sharper and now one of the refs was blowing his whistle.
Archie shrugged Reggie off and felt his legs begin to move, but they were taking him forward toward the fence instead of back toward the field. "We'll take a knee, Coach! Just run down the clock, we're ahead!"
Betty and Jughead had disappeared by now, but Archie was still bounding in the direction he had seen them.
"You have to be on the field to take a knee! Andrews, you're the captain and quarterback, get back here!"
Archie continued in the other direction.
"Hey!" Coach Clayton's yell was somehow even harsher now. "If you don't get back here, I'm benching you in the second half!"
Archie paused, his feet catching in the grass. He turned around.
Coach Clayton had moved closer, a stiff expression on his face. "Please don't make me do that, son."
Archie glared at him for a moment, then past him at the field. Reggie and Monroe were staring back at him, trying to wave him back. A referee stood with a whistle between his lips, staring at his watch before signaling a short screech at the coach.
Archie looked at his coach, then back toward the crowd and the stands, then back at the field.
"Sorry, coach, but you'll need to put Rozer in," he shouted, referencing the second-string quarterback as he started jogging toward the fence. "I need to check on a friend!
Coach Clayton's disappointed glower hung in his mind as he spun back around and bolted for the fence. He roved his eyes around, looking for someone familiar, and headed toward the Vixens spread out along the track.
"Toni!" Archie slowed his jog as he reached the edge of the turf. "Have you seen Betty?"
His eyes quickly moved up to the stands and he could see Kevin standing nervously next to the drum major. He must have seen Archie because his eyes widened and he started to scramble down the steps and toward the track.
Toni frowned and shook her head, crossing her pom-poms over her arms, looking over toward Cheryl and Veronica, who were now at the fence talking to Kevin. "Cheryl started us into an early cheer and that's all I know. If I had to guess though, we were creating a distraction."
Archie furrowed his brow, looking up into the stands. The referee blew his whistle and the game continued behind them, and Archie could hear Rozer shouting out the cadence for a quarterback kneel.
A different whistle, not of the metal variety, made both he and Toni snap their heads. Cheryl was lowering her fingers from her mouth, cocking her head at them.
Archie and Toni glanced at each other, then jogged over to the rest of the group. The snow had subsided, a stillness returning to the night air, and Archie could see everyone's breath swirling white around them.
Veronica laid a hand on his arm as soon as they were close enough and he saw the worried expression playing across her face.
"It was scary," Archie could hear Kevin explaining, the boy's eyes widening as he shook his head. "I haven't seen her have one in public for a while."
"What happened?" Archie asked a bit breathlessly.
"Betty may have had a panic attack," Veronica explained quietly, looking up at him sadly.
Archie's fingers curled tightly around the bars of the face mask on his helmet, and he felt an uptick in his heartbeat. He briefly glanced up toward the student section before looking down at everyone gathered around the fence.
Kevin nodded forcefully. "She stopped mid-cheer, like just completely froze. I was right next to her and it was like she didn't even realize where she was. Jughead had to snap her out of it." He wrapped his hands around the fence, swinging his head over his shoulder. "I think he took her home."
"Damn," Toni muttered. "Those things are no joke, I used to get them as a kid. Getting her out of the crowd was a good call." She dipped her head at Kevin, who nodded in return.
A buzzer rang behind them, and one last swell of boisterous cheering came from the crowd before it was replaced by metal creaking and rumbling as people began to sit back down or leave their seats for the concession stand.
"And there we have it folks, Bulldogs 16, Ravens 13 at the end of the first half. Stay tuned because in a few minutes we begin our half-time show with a performance from the Riverdale High Marching Band, followed by the River Vixens."
The group remained unmoving as the crowd around them milled about, moving back and forth in the stadium. The marching band began to clamor down from the stands, shuffling their way toward the gate that led onto the field.
Archie kicked a patch of grass with his cleat, the springy earth loosening with the force.
It wasn't fair.
She had survived, she had made it through her trials, why did she still have to pay for it? Why did they all still have to pay for everything they'd been through?
He took a breath and closed his hand around Veronica's, knowing that in a moment she would have to leave to prepare for the half-time show and he wasn't quite ready to let go.
Archie glanced out toward the entrance to the stadium, watching the steady flow of people walking in and out of the gate, before moving his gaze toward the bright lights above him, wondering how one night could be so joyful for some yet so painful for others.
FP walked through the front door, shimmying his coat off and onto the rack in the foyer. He stood there momentarily, facing into the house, his eyebrow raising at how many lights were on downstairs.
The low drone of the television was coming from the living room and he could see its glow out of the corner of his eye, yet that room still appeared to be dark.
FP stepped forward, peering into the room, then sighed as he leaned up against the wall. "Hey," he uttered softly, speaking to the person spread out on the couch. "I thought you were going to the game tonight?"
Jughead slowly heaved himself up into a sitting position, grabbing the remote and muting the TV. "Oh, I was, but then I thought, 'Why be at a football game when I could be spending my night sitting in the dark at home?'"
He shot his father a playful grin but when FP continued to stare resolutely at him, it wavered, and instead he inclined his head toward the staircase. "Betty, uh, didn't feel so good so we left early."
"And Alice…?"
"Is here," Jughead answered his dad's question, seeming to know what he was implying. "They're both upstairs."
FP nodded and pushed himself off the wall, walking into the room. He lowered into the chair next to the couch. Jughead sat with a pensiveness about him, his shoulders hunched and his thumbs twirling together. His beanie rested on the coffee table in front of him and FP could see the corners of his eyes were red.
"Dad," Jughead strained after a while, his fingers twisting together. "What all did you find in Pickens Park that morning?"
FP rocked sideways, his tongue going into the side of his cheek as he placed his elbow on the armrest, wondering about what kind of "didn't feel so good," had led to this question.
"There honestly wasn't much, Jug," he stated, remembering their initial conversation about that crime scene. Jughead had been so wound up then, considering that it had been the first concrete evidence surrounding Betty's whereabouts. He hadn't even stopped to care about what the whole scene had been like.
"There was a hole and a few patches of blood, but not a lot." He shook a hand at that last statement.
"And there was nothing in the hole? Did it look freshly dug up?"
"No to the first part, but…," he clicked his tongue against his teeth before finishing dryly, "yes to the second."
Jughead let out the vocal equivalent of a wince, his eyes closing. "And how far away from the hole did you find the badge?"
FP knew when his son was trying to put together a picture in his head and right now he was showing more signs than an airport.
"Jug, are you sure you want to know these things?" FP asked quietly.
"Yes."
The response was short and staunch.
FP shuffled, leaning toward Jughead, clicking on the lamp next to him so he could fully see his son's face. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be okay when I know what happened!" he snapped abruptly, whipping off the couch. Jughead closed his eyes again, taking in a deep breath before crossing his arms and slowly pacing in the room. "I can't help her, Dad! I don't know how."
FP watched his son agitatedly pace in front of him, his face shadowed as his frustration poured out, unable to be held back.
"Jughead-," FP rose from his chair, putting his hands out to stop Jughead, forcing the teen to look up at him. "Did you get her home?"
Jughead balked and rolled his head away.
"Did you get her home tonight?" FP repeated with more force.
Jughead blinked at his father, then slowly nodded. "Yeah."
"And did you stay with her through whatever happened at the football game?" FP's hands lowered to his hips.
Jughead nodded again.
"And have you made her laugh? Made her smile? Compliment on how headstrong she is?"
This time, Jughead cracked a small grin.
FP stepped forward, putting his hands on his son's shoulders. "Then you do know how to help her, and you have." He steered Jughead back down onto the couch, the two of them sinking into it. "I know how helpless actually helping can feel at times."
The light from the TV flickered between them, the silent colors washing over them. Jughead breathed in slowly, his shoulders relaxing. He sniffed. "She has to fight her own fights, right?"
FP nodded, pulling his leg up to rest on the coffee table. "And it's up to her when she tells you everything." He glanced over at the staircase. "But in the meantime, we find other ways to help."
"Yeah?" Jughead turned toward him. "Like what?"
"Well-," FP tapped his leg. "Kane asked me for a favor, one which you may be able to help me out with. When it makes sense." Jughead perked up, pushing against the cushions to straighten up, shooting an inquiring look at FP. "It'll involve some digging, and probably a lot of reading. Would you be interested?"
"Hell yeah, I would." Jughead didn't hesitate to answer.
FP smiled, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. "Good. I thought you would."
Alice stood in front of the slightly ajar door to her daughter's bedroom, a hand hesitantly raised next to the painted wood.
She hadn't expected to find Jughead on the couch when she had come home and had expected even less the quietness with which he had regarded her. All he had done was look up at the stairs, then back at her, and she had known what that had meant.
Now she was staring at the back of her daughter's door, like she had many times before, only this time afraid to go in.
But Betty had chosen to come home, so she closed her eyes, swallowing down her nerves and pride, and knocked on the door.
"Hi, honey," she said softly, stepping into the dim room as the door creaked open. "How are you feeling? I brought you something." She held up the piece of cake she had been carrying. "I know chocolate always makes me feel better."
Betty sat in bed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, curled under the covers, her back up against the headboard. She closed her journal as Alice entered the room, setting it aside and shuffling forward as Alice entered the room. "Thanks."
Alice could hear how exhausted she was in that one word. And as Betty moved into the light, she could tell that she had been crying. She stepped forward, placing the plate down on the nightstand, hoping she wouldn't be adding to that.
Alice sat down on the edge of the bed, straightening her arms in her lap as she laced her fingers together. "You didn't want to go back to Veronica's?"
Betty gave a small shrug and shuffled the covers around. "I wanted my own bed."
Alice gingerly nodded, fully taking in her daughter's state now that she was closer. Betty had wiped off most of her make-up, her red and raw face matching her eyes. She had her hair up in a bun and was still in her Riverdale High sweatshirt. Betty had taken her sling off, her hands tucked up into her sleeves. Alice knew she had gone to the game and knew it was still in progress, so something had brought her home in this condition.
The alarm clock on Betty's nightstand ticked steadily into the quiet room, echoing into the space between the two women. Alice rubbed her hands together, her eyes wandering beyond the bed to the window that was open despite the heat pumping into the room. She narrowed her eyes, seeing that Betty was huddled underneath a knit blanket as well as her comforter.
"Do you want the window closed?"
Betty briefly looked behind her, then back at her mom, shaking her head. "No."
Off to a great start.
Alice closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn't need the right words, she just needed to have the humility to talk.
So she swallowed down one final breath.
"Betty," Alice said, placing a hand down on the bed as she leaned. "I'm so sorry about this week. The surprise party, the interview-," she shook her head. "I hurt you when all you wanted to do was come home."
Betty breathed slowly, listening as she sat with her arms folded in her lap.
"And I know it's not even close to the first time I've hurt you," she added.
Betty looked at Alice, a conflicted ache on her face. "Why did you do it?" she asked quietly yet firmly. "Why did you think it would be a good idea?"
Alice tilted her head, staring down at the bed remorsefully. "I thought that there was a chance that I could get you out of having to go to the trial if I got your testimony on video. I thought that I could potentially save you from seeing him again."
She heard a sharp intake of breath and looked up. Betty was rolling her hands together, her head down.
"So it was another attempt at protecting me?"
"Yes." Alice nodded. "And I was hoping that maybe Polly would hear it too. That it would help bring her home." She watched as Betty's mouth curled at that, her eyes growing wider. "But I didn't even try to ask you about it."
"No, you didn't." Betty shook her head, her tone growing harder as she flapped an arm. "And that was a decision you made about me, without me, And it's not the first time you've done that. Like you joining The Farm in the first place. Even just a hint would have been better than the not knowing."
"I know that now!" Alice could feel the edge wanting to rise in her voice, but she attempted to steady it. Betty could take out whatever she needed to feel on her, but she wouldn't do the same. "I honestly thought that if I told you about the FBI then you would only want to get closer to the situation and I couldn't have that. And Kane didn't want any kids involved, not more than there already were."
Betty shook her head. "But then I would have known that you were safe! I wouldn't have had to watch you all those months, thinking I was losing you more and more each day. Do you know how hard that was?"
Alice did, unfortunately, as she had watched the panic grow in her daughter's face over the past year, not to mention some of the lengths Betty had gone to try to get her out.
"And going along with so much? The baptism? Giving Edgar my money?" Betty's eyes were wide and desperate, almost identical to how she had looked when she had walked into the interview. "If you knew what was going on, why did you even let me get close to Edgar?"
Alice ran her hands over her leg and slowly got up, walking around to the end of the bed, her hands clasping the baseboard. "Because I didn't know what to do."
Her voice cracked and she crossed her arms, starting to pace the room. "I thought that it was going to be no problem getting Edgar to tell and show me what was going on, a few weeks maybe until the FBI could move in. But no matter how much loyalty I showed him, nothing was working and Polly was only going deeper, and-," Alice raised her arms, ashamedly holding them in the air. "And I ended up losing myself a bit, and because of that everything fell on you."
She looked back over at Betty, who was staring at her with her mouth turned up in a pained scowl. "I knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself if the need arose, but I didn't notice until it was too late how much of an interest he had taken in you, and it was because of me. I was too proud, and I didn't tell you the truth. I couldn't do my one job and you paid the price."
The disclosure struck Alice hard, and she unsteadily sank onto the opposite side of the bed, her back to Betty. She couldn't look at her. Alice felt a sob rising, stuck somewhere in her chest, and she stared down into her lap, her face contorting into an ugly grimace.
A dog barked in the distance, its howl joining the soft rattle of the wind that swirled in through the open window. It was an odd sensation as she could feel the heat continuing to churn through the room.
Alice sat quietly, staring at the wall as she tried to compose herself. After a moment, she heard the bed creak and a shuffle of fabric, and then a hand landed on her shoulder.
"Mom, it wasn't your fault that Edgar did what he did," Betty spoke seriously, her voice thick, trying to hold steady herself. "But we have to learn how to talk to each other."
Alice swiveled around. Betty's face was red, and her bun had somehow gotten messier. "We haven't been able to communicate properly for so long," she continued. "Not since Dad, not since Polly & Jason."
"Even before that," Alice contended. "While I may think I was keeping you in the dark or away from certain things for your own good, I was controlling."
She'd known and been rather satisfied by that behavior for a long time. But lies and deception just lead to more lies and deception.
Betty looked rather surprised that Alice had admitted that, and she sank back against her propped-up pillows. The corners of her eyes shone as they momentarily dropped to the floor, and she rolled up her sleeves.
"Mom, all I'm asking for is some respect."
The look in her eyes was unyielding and resolute, a force you wouldn't want to mess with. Alice blinked at her for a moment. She couldn't help but see her younger self so clearly in Betty, that determined and unruly spirit. Hers had broken young and part of her believed she stayed emotionally removed because she was afraid she would be the one to break her children's.
Alice hoped there was still time for that to not be the case.
"As a mother," Alice began, her tone relaxing. "I always thought it was my job to keep you safe from the world. As you and your sister got older, it felt harder to do that. I had my own vision of how you girls would grow up," she gushed, a smile beneath her shame.
"But you were becoming your own people. And when Polly told us she was pregnant, I panicked. The only thing I could think to do was what my parents, your grandparents, did for me." She rubbed her wrists, her lip still slightly quivering. "I had always told myself that if I had a daughter, I wouldn't put her through the same hell I went through."
"Except I did," Alice choked out. "I put her through even more because I put the shame I still felt onto her." She shook her head. "And I did the same to you."
She moved, pulling herself up against the headboard directly beside Betty. "I'm supposed to teach you about the world, show you it, not hide you from it."
Betty looked over at her. "Obviously, I know the world can be scary, and there will always be things in my life that you might not approve of, but it's my life, Mom. If there's one thing that these past few weeks have shown me it's that I don't want anyone else to tell me what my life should be. I just want to live it."
"You're right. It is." Alice nodded. There was still a type of pang, a pushback she could feel in her chest. There was something in her, the fallout from her own disordered childhood maybe, that still wanted that picture-perfect family so badly, even though she knew it was just a fallacy. That last vestibule of control. Maybe that image of family was actually holding her back from truly living her own life too.
Alice turned her eyes around the room. Betty's backpack hung by one strap over the chair in front of her desk where homework was scattered about. There was already laundry and shoes strewn across the floor, along with a crumpled sleeping bag. Something was stirring in her chest but she couldn't quite place it. Then she looked over at the pile of pillows and stuffed animals that sat in the corner next to the bed.
"I haven't always appreciated who you've grown into. And I don't know the last time I told you how proud of you I am." Alice reached down and grabbed an orange and white stuffed cat out of the pile, pulling it up into her lap, Betty watching her as she did. "I've let so much slip through my fingers. I don't know when you grew up and I never even bothered to ask."
The end of that statement came out strangled. She realized now that as she had looked over the room she had been seeing it as a time capsule. So much time not paying attention, not listening. Just limiting. She squeezed the cat as she failed to hold back a sob. "I almost lost you. My little girl, I almost lost you out there."
She turned her head and saw that Betty's face had grown rosy again, and her mouth was turned up. Alice passed the stuffed cat to her and she wrapped it in her arms, her sleeves back to covering her hands.
"I'm sorry I didn't know." Alice wiped her eyes. "I didn't know what happened with Penelope last spring. I didn't know that Hal died the same night I left. And I'm sorry that I didn't know that we were within reach of each other for weeks." She leaned down closer to Betty, wrapping an arm around her. "I tried. I tried to figure out what he was up to."
"You couldn't have known," Betty stammered supportively. "We can't change what happened."
And Alice wondered how she was going to live with that.
The two women remained silent for a while, the sound of stifled tears replacing their words. Gentle rustles from the night outside filled in the quiet, and Alice heard the muffled sound of the front door opening below them, guessing that FP had just gotten home.
"You know it wouldn't have worked."
Alice turned her head at Betty's unexpected remark. "What wouldn't?"
"The interview," Betty answered, moving her head to look back at Alice. "It could have given way to a tainted jury. If we want to release something publicly, which-," Betty swallowed down a deep breath. "We probably still should, we need to do it on the lawyer's terms so we don't mess anything up."
Alice just stared at her daughter.
"I worked with Archie's mom and Mayor McCoy all of last summer, I picked up on some legalities." She let slip a bit of a gratified smirk. "And besides, I want to go to court. I want to face him. I know it'll be hard but we have to get the truth out there. I need to see that bastard go down."
Alice sucked in a quiet breath. Somehow Betty had inherited a trait that her parents seemed to lack; bravery. And while it certainly got her in trouble from time to time, and was something Alice had for far too long tried to stifle, it was also something she was incredibly proud of.
"And-," Betty hesitantly continued. "Communication goes both ways. I haven't given you much to listen to." She pulled at the strings on her hoodie as she sunk back down into the covers.
Alice saw that she was still holding one shoulder at an awkward angle, and remembered that she had come home from the game for some reason. She flashed back to Betty sitting in front of the fireplace the other night and figured tonight she might have been feeling the same.
Alice swung her legs up, dropping further down onto the bed until she was on her side, her arms tucked under her head, lying next to Betty.
"What was it like? Where you were?" she asked quietly, repeating a question she had tried to get Charles to answer.
The small hum of the heat pulsing through the vents whirred through the darkened room. Betty rolled onto her back, her eyes piercing the ceiling with a pensive nature. She suddenly looked older, the dim glow of the hazy bedside lamp giving her messy hair and unrefined face a storied appearance.
"It was small and bare. Drafty. Far too quiet. It was like in an apocalyptic movie when there's only one person left on Earth..."
Alice watched and listened as Betty continued to speak, no longer silence between them. Her daughter was opening her heart wider than she possibly ever had to her before.
She knew it hurt. She knew there was still a long way to go between them. It would take time and many more conversations, but in this moment, she had chosen to start on that hard path and had finally gotten her daughter back.
A thread had found its way to their bleeding hearts, and with it, a promise that eventually their wounds that had been open for far too long, could be sewn up, stitch by stitch until they were nothing more than scars.
Archie leaned against the black fence surrounding the track, staring out at the now empty football field washed underneath the fluorescent stadium lights. The cheers had faded, the marching band gone, and now volunteers were sweeping the fallen food and trash from the stands. The crowd had mostly dissipated by now, only a few of the players' families still around.
He looked down the track, toward where a group of Vixens and some of his teammates were gathered, heading in the opposite direction. He caught Veronica's eye as she walked along with Cheryl and Toni, and she gave him a small wave. He waved back, watching them amble toward the entrance to the stadium, most likely on their way to Pop's as per the post-game tradition.
Archie had opted out. He wanted to hang back for a bit and be alone for a while, as per his recent post-game tradition.
"Hey, Dad," Archie said softly, staring out over the field, a cold breeze flowing around him. "We had a game tonight. I got this sick touchdown. It was awesome, you should have seen it." Archie leaned back, spreading his arms out, his gym bag slumping against his side. "I hope you saw it."
He sniffed, a tender smirk on the side of his mouth. "I think I'm starting to understand what you meant all those times about doing the hard thing. Not the rash or the dangerous thing, but the hard thing."
"Archie!" An excited voice called his name from behind, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he turned. TJ barreled up to him, stopping right before he could run into the teen, Mary walking behind him.
"Hey, TJ!" Archie moved his gym bag further up his arm, reaching out and fist-bumping the boy as he did. "What are you still doing here?"
"I'm going home with Elliot and Mad Dog, but I wanted to say hi before you left," he animatedly chattered. "It really sucks that you lost."
Archie's face dropped a bit, but he still gave a small smile, throwing a quick glance at his mom. "It's alright. We'll get them next year."
TJ squinted as the two of them began to walk toward the parking lot, Mary leading the way. "But you won't be on the team next year."
"No, I won't," Archie said a bit wistfully. "But it's okay, we had a great season. Best Riverdale's had in a while."
"I bet you guys would've won if you hadn't had to sit on the bench so much," TJ groaned. "I mean did you see that touchdown you got?"
Archie snorted, a full smile now on his face, and Mary laughed as well. "I was there, I did see it, yes," he chuckled as they walked past the facilities staff taking down the painted banners littered throughout the stands. "But sitting on the bench was my choice. It was a consequence I had to accept."
TJ looked up at him. "Why did you run off? I know how much you like football."
Archie took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, his breath swirling in the cold night. He glanced back at the field. "Sometimes caring for people requires sacrifice."
Mary looked back at him and Archie briefly locked eyes with her as he continued to talk. "Even when you want something really bad, like getting to a championship game, sometimes there are things that are more important, like people that you love."
TJ slowed and turned toward Archie, his brow knit. "So, you ran away to help someone?"
"Tried to." Archie stopped, turning toward the boy. "She was already gone, but I was able to touch base with all my other friends to find out what was happening. And that way we can stay in the loop."
They began to walk again, reaching the edge of the parking lot. "Was it worth it?" TJ asked, still looking thoughtful.
Archie paused, looking back at the stadium, out over the empty field, a swell rising in his chest. He attempted to swallow it down. He knew that perhaps some of his teammates would blame him for the loss, that they thought he had let them down, but at the end of the day, he knew that there were others he hadn't.
"Yeah," he answered quietly, watching as the lights in the stadium began to blink off, one at a time. "The hard things always are."
FP flipped each light switch that was on downstairs off, watching the house grow dark. He walked into the living room and spread a blanket over Jughead, who had passed out on the couch some time ago. He stared down at his son for a moment, letting out a deep sigh before clicking off the lamp, throwing the whole downstairs into black.
FP trudged up the stairs, standing at the top for a moment, the day's fatigue beginning to take over. He walked down the hall, peeking into Jellybean's room, watching to make sure she was asleep, adjusting the thermostat before quietly shutting the door behind him.
As he strode back down the hall, he noticed the door to Betty's room was cracked, a pale light spilling out of it. He shuffled toward the room and gently knocked on the door.
"Alice?" he whispered, pushing the door open just slightly, not wanting to fully interrupt if they were still talking. But that worry was soon extinguished as he took a closer look in the room.
Betty was curled underneath the covers, her chest gently rising and falling in what was finally the slow rhythm of deep sleep. Alice was pressed close beside her, her arms propped protectively above her daughter's head. As FP was about to back away, Alice's eyes cracked open, and she gave him a sad and tired, yet distinctly content smile before nestling further into the pillows.
A worn grin formed on the edge of FP's mouth and he nodded, closing the door behind him.
He turned around, leaning against the door as he drew in a deep breath, standing in the dark hallway for a moment before walking quietly toward his bedroom. The moonlight streaming through the dark room led FP toward the untidy bed, which he collapsed onto with a weary sigh.
They were going to be okay.
Something told him that they were all going to be okay.
A/N:
And that's all for now! Don't you love it when characters are actually trying and growing and not just used as plot devices/conveniences? Yeah, me too.
So as I realize the timeline in this story, next chapter will be a Thanksgiving chapter and hopefully a lighter and slower break in the story before it gets serious again. The end is in sight, but I know there's still a good chunk of chapters to go.
As always, thanks for reading, and thank you for leaving reviews! It makes my day and I love reading them! Have a good week!