Forty Days in the Wilderness

by Skyrider45

Senior year was supposed to be fun, hopeful even, not the start of another nightmare. When one of the Core Four goes missing, will the others be able to save them in time, all while battling their own inner demons, family issues, and the fallout from recent events? The road to healing is a long one. Canon-complicit until 3x22. AU Season 4. (Rated T for violence, kidnapping, etc.)

24. Chapter 22: Thanksgiving Break

Hello everyone! I did not think this one would take me so long, or end up being so long, but I must remain in character I guess.

As the title suggests, yes this one is a bit of a break from the action. There is still some sad, and I still ended up moving some characters and pieces of the plot along, but mostly it's happy and good and slower-paced.

Boris Yeltsin, thank you so much for the continued kind words and for faithfully continuing to read!

AvidMovieFan16, thank you for continuing to be a faithful reader and for the kind comments along the way!

LukeSkywalker2567, I know, my chapters are always a lot to take in. It's become a habit for me to kind of structure them like an actual episode and make sure I'm covering everyone's journeys and pieces of the story. It's a lot, but I like it that way. And you are welcome for the acknowledgments! And thank you for the kind words on each chapter as you continue to read!

ButtonMashr, sorry for pulling the rug out from under you there, I had to take things where they needed to go! Even if that means interrupting some rest. (But hopefully, there's more of that here for you!) I'm so glad that you see Charles as a full character now! I really love writing him, and well, I'm biased but this is canon for me now compared to what we actually got in the show. And I didn't even clue-in to the fact that I used 'digging' as FP's word choice there! He (I) should know better ;) I've said it before but I'll say it again, Fred will always make me sad, but there is something really nice about being able to write Archie's journey through that grief, and everyone else around him too and how Fred touched everyone's lives. He is everyone's dad!

I hope you enjoy this 'break' of a chapter as I continue to work on more!

---

Chapter 22 – Thanksgiving Break

"So, I take it the last few days were more eventful than you were hoping, weren't they?"

The look that Dr. Glass was sending Betty, seated across from her in his plush chair while she played with a stress ball made to look like a rotund turkey, held a hint of exhaustion, a pinch of frustration, and just a dash of amusement.

The recounting of her conversation with her mother and friends, and her panic attack were certainly enough of concern for him as her therapist, but then her description of Kevin's gift and a subsequent monologue about a love of milkshakes she hadn't meant to go on was enough to warrant the latter expression.

She wasn't sure why she felt the need to diffuse the silence of her therapy sessions with jokes and anxious ramblings when that silence was completely necessitated in this kind of space. And she had been relatively accustomed and comfortable with silence over her lifetime.

But she guessed that getting thrust into 24 hours of silence a day in a cabin in the middle of the Canadian wilderness since then might have something to do with it.

Just something else she had to reclaim.

"The weekend was not as lowkey as I had hoped." Betty dipped her head at the counselor. "But it wasn't all bad," she continued, lifting the hand the stress ball was in. "I finally got my sling off."

"Alright and…" Dr. Patel extended his enunciation of 'and' out as he undid the straps of Betty's sling as though cutting off a cast and not just removing a bundle of fabric. "…there you go!" He pulled it away and placed his hand on her shoulder and elbow. "Stretch it out for me. How's it feel?"

Betty did as he asked, watching as he made sure she didn't overextend herself. As she began to rotate her shoulder, she hopped down from the examination table. "It's still really sore," she said, grasping her shoulder as Dr. Patel moved away, realizing it still couldn't quite fully extend.

"And it will be for a bit. We'll get you scheduled for physical therapy to get it back to normal." Dr. Patel nodded, staring at the x-rays illuminated on the wall. "Your gunshot wound is healing nicely, too. We'll be able to take the stitches out after the holidays."

Betty instinctively dropped her hand, feeling the dressing wrapped around her torso before looking up toward the doctor.

"Everything's looking really good." Dr. Patel turned around, giving her a warm smile. "Keep taking your painkillers if you need them, but with a bit more time and some help, your injuries won't be anything more than a distant memory."

"That's great!" Dr. Glass clapped his hands together. "That has to feel good. And it's good timing. I know you went back to school this week. How did that go?"

Betty slouched down into the couch, rolling the ball in her hand, her eyes roving over the inspirational signage in the room. "It wasn't bad, but again, not as lowkey as I had hoped."

"Do you have everything? All your books? Your homework?"

"Mom," Betty said abruptly, slinging her backpack into her lap, one hand on the handle of the car door. "I haven't been away from school for that long. I do still remember how it works."

Alice wrapped her hands around the steering wheel of the parked car. "I know, sorry, just… I didn't get to see you off on your last first day of high school. I feel like I'm doing that now. I'm a bit jumpy."

"You're jumpy?" Betty chimed, raising a glib eyebrow toward her mother. "You're not the one about to go into the lion's den."

"We can still go back home if you want. You can go back after the break," Alice suggested supportively, reaching a hand out to Betty.

Betty stared at her mother for a moment, then turned her head out the passenger side window toward the looming façade of the school as students poured through the front entrance.

No one at the football game had seemed to care she was there or tried to ask her uncomfortable questions, so no one would do it here, right?

Betty shook her head decisively. "No, waiting until after break won't change anything. I just have to do it."

Alice smiled. "Okay." She nodded her head. "I love you, honey."

"I love you, too." Betty swung open the door and climbed out of the truck. She stood quietly for a moment, looking up at the school, and began the walk forward.

Then immediately stopped as a horn blared behind her.

"Have a good day at school, sweetie!"

Betty let out a deep breath as she turned her eyes to the ground and muttered to herself. "Oh, Mom."

"Oh." Dr. Glass was leaning forward in his chair, his chin in his hand. "Well, I know you and your mother have only just begun to work on your relationship, and it's perfectly natural for both of you to feel nervous about your going back to school after recent events." Dr. Glass steepled his fingers together. "I can see how that wouldn't be the 'lowkey' you had hoped, but it doesn't seem too bad."

"Mhm," Betty groused, straightening up in her place on the couch, leaning toward Dr. Glass. "That was just Monday. Let me tell you what happened yesterday."

The bell rang overhead as Betty exited the guidance counselor's office, blowing out a quick huff as she looked down at the stack of papers in her arms. Jughead and Kevin appeared on either side of her as the hall began to fill with students moving from place to place.

"So how's the catch-up going? Has your non-stop homeworking paid off?" Jughead walked alongside Betty, throwing her a cheerful look of sarcasm, though behind it he did seem to be impressed.

"While I've gotten through a good chunk of assignments already – thank you, Kevin - I still have to take a slew of make-up tests after break," she moaned, sliding the papers into her backpack. "Not the most fun things to look forward to."

They rounded a corner as Betty continued, "Ms. Burble said she could get me an extension on submitting college applications, though, if I still wanted to try for early admissions. I kind of missed the deadline."

Jughead and Kevin looked between each other, then Jughead pressed closer to Betty as they weaved around a few rushing students. "Speaking of deadlines, and not to add more to your already full plate, but when are we going to start the Blue & Gold back up?"

"Soon," she sighed. "Let me get through all the make-up work and I'll have it back up and running before Christmas. But for now, I just want to get back in the swing of things as quietly as possible."

"Out of the way, plebians!"

A syrupy, piercing voice sounded behind them and suddenly Cheryl was plowing her way through the crowd of students. "Cult survivors coming through. Move." Cheryl shoved a pack of freshmen out of the way.

"Hi, Betty." Cheryl twirled around, an unflinching smile on her lips. "Hey!" She whipped around toward a guy in a letterman's jacket, who recoiled at her glare. "No ogling. There's nothing to see here." The kid backed up into a locker and Cheryl turned back toward the friends, the smile plastered back on her face. "No one's messing with you, cousin, not if I have anything to say about it."

Betty smiled a toothless smile back at Cheryl, her eyes wide and intense as she felt her face grow hot. "Thanks, Cheryl," she gritted through clenched teeth. "No one was just now, but thank you."

Cheryl didn't seem to notice the contempt on the faces of the three people in front of her, instead giving them a jaunty wave as she spun around and continued down the path she had cleared for herself in the hall.

As the students around them stirred and continued on their way, Betty couldn't help but notice a few more wandering eyes than before.

Kevin took a deep breath and stepped in front of them. "Remember when she didn't like us?" He bobbed his head, twisting the strap of his bag between his hands. "I miss that."

Dr. Glass leaned forward, his glasses in one hand, the other rubbing his eyes.

"Teenagers, right?" Betty folded her arms, squeezing the stress ball in one hand as she pushed back into the couch. "We're the worst."

"Being a teenager once myself, I can't disagree." Dr. Glass chuckled, wiping his glasses on his shirt before putting them back on. "It didn't sound like it was intentional though. From what you've told me about her, it sounded like she was just being… Cheryl."

"I guess I did want things to feel more normal," Betty responded, considering that statement. "And that is a pretty normal occurrence for us at Riverdale High. So, I guess we're on our way."

A grin spread across Dr. Glass' face. "I guess that is one way to look at it, yes." He closed his notebook and placed it on the coffee table between them, crossing his legs. He stared forward at Betty, a crinkle across his forehead.

"I know in an earlier session you talked about still feeling trapped. Now that you've spent a bit more time home and away from everything, do you still feel that way?"

Betty moved her eyes down to the coffee table, staring blankly at the little potted plant that lived there. Dr. Glass must have watered it just before her session began, as a few water droplets were sliding down the leaves.

"It's not quite that, that's been feeling better as I talk to more people, but I still feel… something." She looked back up at Dr. Glass. "Like, more stuck than trapped. If that makes any sense."

Dr. Glass slowly nodded. "And, I will be honest, that feeling will most likely last for a while as you work through the complex traumas you've been through. It may feel like you're treading water internally, or even socially, but believe me when I say there is progress happening."

He pushed his glasses up his nose before folding his hands in his lap, his eyes narrowing attentively as he more than likely saw the look of reservation cross her face. "Betty, have you had moments in your life when you felt free? Like, just pure joy and independence?"

"Yeah, I guess." She shuffled her back further up the couch. "When I got my first homerun in a softball game, the first time I drove by myself after getting my license."

Betty's eyebrows tapered, a stirring suddenly moving in her chest. She put her hands against the cushions. "And this one time we took a family vacation to the Grand Canyon. I thought I would just feel small by the edge but instead, I felt… alive. Like I could look out at that horizon forever. Like I was a part of it."

Dr. Glass sent her a quick smile as he listened. "And what would you say freedom feels like to you now? After your experience with Edgar? Is it a different feeling?"

Betty pulled in a deep breath and stared back down at the plant on the coffee table, watching the pooled water droplets dripping off the edge of one of the leaves. She pulled her legs up, putting the stress ball to the side as she sat criss-cross on the couch.

"One night, while I was in the cabin, there was a storm." Betty toyed with her fingers, her hands in her lap. "The rain was beating against the windows and the roof in that nice pitter-patter kind of sound, the thunder rolling over top of it. It was one of those ones where you could see the individual streaks of lightning in the sky instead of just flashes." A tender grin involuntarily spread across her face at the memory.

"The walls were shaking, the wind groaning against the wood panels. But all I could do was watch it as best I could out of those stupid windows." She shook her head, raising a hand to her face in the expectation that a few tears might find their way there. "And all I could think, all that I wanted in that moment was to be able to walk outside and stand in the rain. No thoughts of home or of warm blankets and hot drinks-," she continued to shake her head, her grin twitching into a solemn frown. "It was all around me but I couldn't feel it, and all I wanted was to walk outside and be in the rain."

"But you couldn't," Dr. Glass responded regretfully.

She nodded, pushing her hands fully into her lap. "Freedom to me that night was just being able to walk through a door. I have a feeling it would have given me as much ecstasy as seeing the Grand Canyon did."

Dr. Glass tapped his knee for a moment in thought. "Do you still feel like something is keeping you from walking through the door?"

"I guess so." Betty creased her brow as her mouth set into a frown. "It feels like I can't get my feet to move. Like I'm stuck in all the memories he brought up. And all the new ones he made."

Dr. Glass nodded a slow nod and leaned back in his chair.

"What?" Betty could tell he had just come to some sort of a conclusion.

"You're afraid of moving forward. Because you could get hurt again."

"No, I-," Betty started to shoot back, leaning forward. "I'm not afraid. I'm trying to get away from the past, but every time I try, I just can't seem to."

Dr. Glass opened his hands and gestured toward her, a knowing eyebrow rising.

"Oh." Betty bobbed her head, resuming her prior position as she grasped what he was getting at. "Stuck."

The counselor leaned forward, a quiet reverence creeping into his voice. "Edgar's control and the memories he left don't have to keep you afraid of trying to move forward. You can walk through that door now and take back the rain. This is your narrative, you're in control."

"How?" Betty asked. "How do I take it back?"

Dr. Glass smiled again. "You'll know how when you see it."

Betty breathed in, uncurling herself from the couch and lowering her feet to the floor. "Alright, now you just sound like a fortune cookie."

Dr. Glass dropped his leg as well, his face going to the floor in a silent laugh. "I hope a smart fortune cookie at least." He rose from the chair and started toward the door. "And unfortunately that's all our time for the week, so it's where I'll have to end our session today."

Betty followed, gathering up her things and wiping her face one last time. "Thanks, Dr. Glass. This was good, I'll see you next week."

"I'll see you then." He gave a small wave as he watched her walk through the door.

"And Betty, have a happy Thanksgiving."

---

Betty shut the door behind her and began walking down the hall of the therapist's office, swinging her coat around her as she did. Her shoulder tugged slightly but she was still able to pull her arm through the sleeve, and that small act made her surprisingly happy.

She slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder, rounding the corner into the waiting room. A light, airy tune was playing in the room as she entered, the space feeling drowsier than usual as it was holiday hours, and only one other person was sitting amongst the chairs, their face buried in a magazine.

Betty was about to head out the door when she stopped and slowly turned back around, stepping closer to that one person.

"Cheryl?" Betty asked tentatively.

The redhead lowered the magazine, peering up and around it at Betty. "Hello, cousin. Fancy seeing you here."

Betty cocked her head. "Believe it or not that is the second time someone has said that to me here." She gave an amused grin to Cheryl, who didn't react.

Betty cleared her throat and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, her face softening. "I haven't seen you here before."

"That's kind of the point." Cheryl shut the magazine sharply and placed it on her lap. Though, Betty noticed that her voice was more subdued than usual.

The cheery tune floated through the room as Betty and Cheryl took turns staring at the floor and at each other.

"Okay," Betty finally breathed, feeling the need to once again break the awkward silence. "Well, have a good Thanksgiving, Cheryl. I'll see you after the break." She started to walk toward the front door.

"Wait!" Cheryl called from behind her.

She rose to her feet and folded her arms in front of her chest, coming to stand in front of Betty. "As nettlesome as the FBI was for stealing one of our Saturdays, their good doctor did raise some good points." She sighed. "So, I decided to give this a try."

Betty sucked in a breath, an unexpected swell in her chest. "That's great, Cheryl!"

The redhead looked away, feigning an eye-roll to try to show her indifference, but her eyes quickly dropped, a hesitancy forming within them. "Is it hard?" she asked quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Speaking… from the soul?"

"Yeah." Betty nodded openly. "Especially in the first session. But it gets easier." She knew how hard it was - and how rare it was - for Cheryl to allow someone to see her fear, her vulnerability. And that was something that needed to be positively reinforced when it did show. "It's been really helpful for me through everything, even before the whole 'getting kidnapped' thing."

Her lip twitched slightly, and Cheryl's eyes took on a guise of sympathy as she noticed. "How are you doing with that by the way?"

Betty managed a smile. "It's a lot." She bobbed her head. "There are some tough things to confront and… hopefully forget at some point, but I'm making progress."

Cheryl nodded slowly, and then suddenly something of a murky laugh escaped her lips. "Edgar sucked, didn't he?"

"That's an understatement," Betty retorted, her eyes widening at the insinuation, a dark laugh on her own tongue. She shook her head. "Sorry I asked you to go undercover with him."

"Hey, Jason was trying to run away to The Farm before he died, before they even came to Riverdale. The way I see it, I would have done the same thing as you if I had seen what kind of cultish creeps he had been living with." Cheryl quaked angrily. "I feel like The Farm entering our lives in some form or another was always inevitable."

Betty's heart dropped. She had thought the same thing from time to time in her reflection of events. "Well, I'm proud of you for taking this first step." She shifted her purse strap back up her shoulder, as it had slipped down while they were talking. "Have a good holiday, Cheryl."

Cheryl nodded and gave a small wave as Betty began back toward the front door.

"Hey, Betty?"

She turned around, finding Cheryl timidly twisting her fingers together.

"Don't tell anyone you saw me here, okay?" she asked, reserved anxiety bleeding into her expression.

Betty understood that look.

"Don't worry," she answered, sending Cheryl an assuring smile. "I won't."

---

The pumpkin gave an unwelcome squelch as Alice scraped the gutter along the sides of the gourd, pulling out the stringy insides and slapping them onto the growing pile on the kitchen island. She cringed as she dug through the slime, pulling out the white seeds and separating them into a large bowl.

"I thought we were celebrating Thanksgiving, not Halloween." Jellybean's spirited voice floated through the kitchen as she walked up to the island. She poked at the mass of pumpkin guts with a spoon as she jumped up on one of the swivel chairs.

Alice placed the gutting utensil down and wiped her hands with a towel. "We are, but I thought I'd roast some pumpkin seeds. I've made them every year at Halloween for-," Alice stopped and gave a bit of a sigh as she placed the towel back down on the counter. "Since I didn't get to do that this year, I thought I'd make some now."

Jellybean twisted the spoon around in her hand. "You don't have to tiptoe around everything with me. I know what happened. And I missed Betty, too. I like having a big sister around and it was too quiet without her."

She looked distantly down at the counter before suddenly snapping her head back up, looking eagerly at Alice. "Can I help?"

Alice gave her a soft smile through forlorn eyes. "Of course."

Jellybean nodded and started to dig through the pile of guts, pulling out the pumpkin seeds and throwing them in the bowl.

"Have you ever had homemade pumpkin pie?" Alice asked after a few minutes. "Mine puts all the store-bought ones to shame."

"I don't know that I've ever had any type of homemade pie," JB casually responded. The smile on Alice's face wavered. "Dad's not much of a cook, but he does order a mean take-out."

Alice pulled the other bar chair closer and lowered herself into it, coming to Jellybean's eye level. She had almost forgotten that just last year the Joneses were still living in a trailer on the Southside, and Alice couldn't help but remember her own time living there as a child.

The desire for a life on the Northside wasn't just fueled by the want for a taste of the finer things in life, sometimes it had been fueled simply by the want for a taste.

"Do you have any traditions or favorite Thanksgiving dishes?" Alice asked, looking around the kitchen at the food, cookware, and recipe books open across the counters. "I've already got a spread planned out, but there's always room for more."

"Um, I don't know. When Jughead and I were younger, I remember going to this big dinner with all the Serpents, then eventually we started going to Pop's for the meal there." JB tossed a seed into the bowl like it was going to be the winning basket.

Alice nodded, remembering that herself. All of the members of the Serpents and their families would come together around the holidays and scrounge together what they could to provide for each other.

Say what you will about the more seedy and sordid activities of the gang - at the end of the day they did look out for their own.

And the need to scrounge then might account for Alice's need to supply excess now.

"We almost never made anything at home." Jellybean stared up at her, a smirk crossing her face. "But, mac and cheese is my favorite. Can we have mac and cheese tomorrow?"

Alice grinned and leaned over, starting to pick through the seeds with her. "We can definitely do that."

---

"So, what do we need to bring?" Veronica asked from her place on the bed, crossing her legs as she leaned back against the spongy mattress.

Betty looked up from where she sat on the floor, petting Vegas under the ears as the dog draped himself over her lap. "You don't need to bring anything. You just need to show up."

"Yeah, believe me when I say that her mom is making literally everything." Jughead threw a cheeseball in the air, catching it in his mouth as he spun around in the desk chair. They were sprawled out in Archie's bedroom, lively music playing in the background around them as the sun began to set through the windows, sending a golden haze over the friends.

Veronica turned her hands out in front of her. "It's proper etiquette to bring something to every soiree."

"A Thanksgiving dinner isn't exactly a soiree," Jughead chaffed, his hand buried in the snack barrel in his lap.

"Obviously you've never attended Thanksgiving on the Upper East Side," Veronica snapped back proudly, no doubt reliving one or more such 'soirees' in her head.

"If you want to, no one's stopping you, V, but you're my guest, you shouldn't need to," Betty assured, throwing a quick 'knock it off' glance to Jughead as she attempted to stay upright under the onslaught of licking she was currently being subjected to. She turned her head to the corner of the room. "Archie, what about you? You're coming tomorrow, right?"

The redhead remained quiet, staring out the window at the fading sunlight.

"Arch?" Betty asked again softly, nudging Vegas over to his owner.

The dog lapped at Archie's face, pulling the boy out of his head, and he sat up, lifting himself off of the fuzzy stomach of the giant bear he was sitting against. "Yeah. Yeah, my mom and I are definitely coming, Betty. You can expect a full house tomorrow."

"Great! I'll let my mom know." Betty sent a big smile around the room, one eye still on Archie.

"And you're sure you're good with all of us coming over?" Veronica asked, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. "You weren't so thrilled at the last get-together."

"Yes." Betty nodded, spreading her hands out for emphasis. She glanced up at Jughead. "No one's going to be alone on Thanksgiving on my watch."

Jughead and Veronica both gave her supportive grins, which she returned, and she turned her head toward Archie. He had gone back to staring absentmindedly out the window, Vegas sitting and whining softly in front of him.

Betty straightened up, sucking in a noticeable breath. "Though, is it okay if we cut tonight a bit short?" she overstatedly asked, grabbing at her side. "I'm starting to feel pretty tired."

Archie turned toward her, glancing from her hand at her side to her face. Betty looked away, catching Jughead's just as skeptical but worried eyes.

The bed creaked as Veronica rose from it, clicking the radio off. "Yeah, no problem." She dropped over to the corner of the room, patting Vegas on the head. "I'll see you all tomorrow." Archie lifted himself away from the oversized bear, hugging Veronica before filling her spot on the bed.

Jughead relocated the cheeseball tub from his lap to Archie's desk and walked across the room. He bent down, offering a hand out to Betty, who grabbed it and pulled herself to her feet. As they headed toward the door, Jughead tucked in closer and lowered his voice. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She tucked her hands into her jeans pockets. "I just wanted some alone time before tomorrow." She gave a hasty sigh as she briefly glanced back at Archie, who was looking at her gratefully. "I think we could all use some."

---

FP's eyes were glued to the computer screen, his face pressed close to the monitor. Not that scrolling through a list of names and vehicle makes provided by border patrol was riveting, but he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stay awake in the dingy office unless the light was directly in his eyes.

Across the room, Charles groaned, his chair creaking as he leaned back. "Alright, I think we've done all the damage we can do today." He picked a few papers up, knocking them against the table to straighten them out before placing them back in a manila folder. "There's plenty of paper, but unfortunately no money trail to follow. We're not going to get him on that." He got up and walked over to FP, leaning over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

FP rubbed his eyes, putting some distance between himself and the computer. "Ah, just going through the records from the border to see if there are any matches to the plates you recovered from the site in Cornwall. So far there's been a bunch of trucks that passed through, a lot of cars, some woman who was trying to smuggle a whole trunk load of meat and cheese without proper documentation, and unfortunately a hearse." He stopped scrolling and spun around in his chair. "But not our guy."

"Well," Charles exhaled, sticking his hands in his pockets and circling back to his desk. "I doubt Edgar would have gone through border patrol at any point. The team that's still up north said there were two backroads that led down into the states he could have used."

He crossed his arms as he balanced himself on the edge of the desk. "But I never thought to look through those records. There might be something there for the rest of the case, especially from when they first skipped town. We've seized a good number of fake passports from the group, we can pair them up with what you get from the records."

"Looking at the things others overlook is what we do, right?" FP said through the beginning of a yawn. "I'll expand the search after the holiday. For now, I'll just make sure we have the records for all the nights we know he was traveling with Betty. As you said though, I think we should call it a night."

He rose from his chair, grabbing his coat and Charles did the same. "I think we're planning on eating around two tomorrow, which means people will probably start showing up around one." FP slipped his arms through the sleeves of his coat and adjusted the collar. "Don't feel like you need to get to the house early or anything, I just wanted to let you know when the others might start coming around."

FP picked up his car keys and spun them around in his hand, the metal jingling. But the rattling stopped as he saw the look of relative incredulity on Charles' face.

"What's wrong?" FP asked, lowering his hand. "Did you think of something else for the case?"

Charles was holding his coat close to his chest, his hands balling into it. "No," he shook himself out, throwing his jacket on. "I'm just, uh, not used to spending Thanksgiving with other people."

It felt like a hole had just been punched through FP's chest. He slowly sank back against the desk, his hands curling around the edge. "None of your co-workers ever invited you?"

Charles shrugged in an attempt to remain indifferent. "Not really. I mean, they were usually busy too. It's not like federal crime takes a break on the holidays." He shot FP a smirk but dropped it when he realized it wasn't being returned.

During the years FP wasn't on Serpent business or, admittedly, too drunk to care, he and Gladys had always taken the kids out to eat at Pop's. What he had never told them though, was that Pop had given them the meals on the house since they often couldn't afford it.

He had a sinking feeling that Charles may have spent some years the same way, and was suddenly imagining him sitting alone in his apartment eating take-out. Or, FP hated to think about it, but ones where he was possibly strung-out. Or-, FP grimaced, subjected to whatever the Sisters did for Thanksgiving.

FP pushed those thoughts away and instead focused on the fact that Charles was right now standing in front of him. He walked over and placed his hand on Charles' shoulder. "Well, this year crime is taking a break." He switched his computer off, the screen going black. "Because here's your invitation from a co-worker. And family."

The two men headed for the door, switching off the lights behind them as they left the room. "You're getting a homecooked meal whether you like it or not. And trust me-," he tilted his head, "with Alice cooking, you'll like it."

---

The space heater vibrated beneath the orange glow of the work lights that were illuminating the open garage against the dark of the backyard. Archie sat atop a stool, his hands buried in his hoodie pocket as he stared at the dormant jalopy in front of him.

He gently kicked around at the dirt on the ground, a small cloud of it churning around his feet. His gaze traced the array of tools that lined the workbench beside the car, the layer of dust on each untouched instrument sitting undisturbed. Archie leaned forward and opened the toolbox closest to him. He reached inside, pulling out an adjustable wrench, and cradled it in his hand.

Dead leaves crunched out in the yard as the sound of footfalls crept closer to the garage. "Hey." A soft voice replaced the footsteps. "Mind if I join you?"

Archie looked up to find Betty dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, standing in the entryway to the garage. Despite how chilly she looked, with her hands tucked under her arms, there was nothing but considerate warmth on her face.

He nodded and tapped the stool across from him with his foot. Betty promptly took it, scooting herself closer to the space heater.

"Thanks for the save earlier," Archie said, leaning back against the wall. "I'm sorry I wasn't feeling much like socializing."

"It's okay. I understand." Betty pulled her hands into her lap, rocking her legs against the bottom rung of the stool. "I came by to see how you were doing with all that. This being your first Thanksgiving without your dad."

Her mouth turned up in a sympathetic smile and Archie stared at her for a moment until he sighed, breathing in the surge of heat that billowed around him.

"Everything keeps reminding me of him. Each new holiday, each moment we reach that he should have been at… Fourth of July, the first day of our senior year, my games… and now Thanksgiving-," he clapped his palm against his knee, "it feels like it's getting harder. I thought it was supposed to get easier with time."

He glanced over at Betty, who was listening to him quietly with sensitive eyes. "But it's not actually the first without him."

He tapped his fingers against the wrench as Betty cocked her head, her brow crinkling until suddenly her eyes grew wide. "You were running from Hiram last year. You were-,"

"-in Canada, yeah." Archie nodded solemnly, knowing how coincidental - and how insignificant - that sounded talking to Betty right now. "I didn't know there wouldn't be more time then."

Betty rocked in her seat, her back stiffening as she momentarily stared at the ground. "I'm sorry, Arch. I'm glad that your mom's here now, and I'm glad that you're coming over tomorrow. I don't want you, or Veronica-," she shook her head. "To be alone."

"Thanks, Betty." He kicked his foot against the ground. "And I'm sorry, too." He looked back up at her.

Her face crinkled into a frown. "You guys have apologized for enough. It's not your fault."

"No." Archie shook his head. "I am still sorry about that, but that's not what I'm talking about." He leaned forward, angling himself in her direction. "I'm sorry that everyone keeps forgetting that you lost a parent, too."

Betty froze, the string of her hoodie she had been playing with catching between her unmoving fingers. She remained silent, staring down at the dusty floor of the garage. When she did eventually turn her head towards Archie, her eyes had grown hollow.

"If I'm thinking about past family memories then I know you probably are too. Despite everything, he was still your dad." He gave her an empathetic smile in an attempt to comfort himself from his own rising feelings as much as he was trying to comfort her.

Betty tucked her hands back under her arms, a faint shiver running through her. "It's complicated."

She turned her head into the garage, her eyes going to the jalopy. Archie figured she didn't want to say anything more to that, but he had wanted to make sure someone had acknowledged the loss.

"There's been a lot of memories here," Betty whispered, staring around the open garage. "With your dad. Is that why you come out here?"

When she turned toward him, Archie thought her eyes were oddly distant, despite the hopefully happy memories she was thinking of.

"Yeah." He nodded, looking over at the car too. "He cared enough to soundproof this place when I decided to practice music, and then we fixed that car together." He stuck his foot out, lightly kicking the front bumper. "I haven't driven it since-," he swallowed.

Archie stared into his lap, rolling the wrench he was holding around in his hand. "With him gone, it's hard not to think about how he could fix just about anything and what he might have been able to do for the town now if he was still here." He shook his head, his eyes at the ground. "He was always helping, always trying. It felt like he could save the world, and I want to live up to that, but instead, it feels like all I can do is stand by and watch, holding the wrench."

He twisted the tool around in his hand, the cold metal digging into his palms. And then another hand was on top of his.

"We don't have superpowers, Arch, we don't have to save the world. We don't even have to be town heroes, which is what everyone seems to want us to be," Betty hummed, the warmth back in her smile. "Maybe we just have to accept that sometimes all we can do is hold the wrench and trust that we're doing our part to help."

Archie chewed his lip, staring back at his hands. He rolled the wrench over one last time, then gently placed it back inside the toolbox.

"You know, I haven't driven this thing in a long time," Archie began, picking himself up to stand beside the car. "If you ever feel like you need something to do, or need something to distract yourself when you're getting too much in your head-," he looked back at Betty. "You can help me fix it back up."

Betty smiled, grabbing her hoodie string again. "I'll definitely take you up on that offer. It'll count as part of my physical therapy." She smirked as she stretched out her shoulder.

Archie smiled. He cast a glance at the moon, then back at the car. "To fixing what we can, and to doing it together."

---

Thanksgiving.

A day where you are just as likely to wake to the smell of rising bread as you are to the rising sun. A day where families come together just to tear each other apart over the smallest of things. And a day where, for some reason, we as a country are still convinced that a pink sugary goo from a can is a delectable and necessary part of the holiday dinner spread.

But, aside from that, Thanksgiving is also a time to count your blessings. One by one as each relative heads out the door and goes home.

Okay, no, but for real, Thanksgiving has always been a time to slow down and reflect on all the things we typically take for granted. So many things feel so small and far away once we realize how lucky we are to have been surrounded by friends and family throughout the years. All of us have seen how fragile life can be, and how quickly things can change, and we've all learned to hold our loved ones a little bit closer.

So that's what we would do today. Surround ourselves with our loved ones and hold them just a little bit closer.

Soft squares of light flickered in through the window, glittering against the wall as they slid in and out of view like a lazy kaleidoscope as clouds passed in front of the sun. It threw Betty's room into cycles of sun and shade as she sat at her desk, watching the light appear and disappear on her wall calendar.

Betty tapped her fingers against the desk, her head in her hand. Little notes were scrawled around the calendar, the dates of tests and assignment deadlines, as well as therapy and doctor appointments. She moved her hand down to her torso, gently feeling the new dressing that was there, and sighed.

Grabbing a black marker, Betty leaned forward, crossing out the prior day's little square on the calendar, taking the note about her appointment with Dr. Glass with it. Next to it was a red circle, 'Thanksgiving!' written inside, the carefree exclamation marked at the beginning of the school year, long before she knew what would have to be fought through just to get to the day.

She took the marker and drew over the punctuation mark, making it bolder. She deserved that exclamation point.

As she pulled the marker away, she paused, narrowing her eyes at the date, running her finger along the rows of crossed-out days. She flipped the page back to the previous month, her brow creasing as she continued to count.

"Hi, honey." Alice suddenly appeared in the doorway, her hands behind her back, a playful smile on her face.

Betty turned, falling back into her seat. "Look at what I found when I was looking for the table decorations!" Alice walked further into the room, pulling her arms out in front of her. In her hand was a brown construction paper turkey, ragged colorful feathers sticking off of it.

"Wha-," A small smile tugged at the edge of Betty's mouth. "Why do you still have that?"

"Oh, I kept all of your elementary school projects. I thought they were all so cute." She was regarding the paper turkey as though it were a Norman Rockwell painting. "And this one isn't missing an eye like the one we used to keep at the Register."

"Ok-ay." Betty swung around toward her mother. She remembered skipping recess to make a second hand-turkey so that each parent got one. She hadn't wanted either to feel left out. "You're getting weird."

Alice swung her hand, waving absently at Betty. "Well, I actually came up to ask if you wanted to run downtown with me to grab a few things. I need to get a couple different cheeses."

"Sure." Betty nodded, not questioning that last comment. "Yeah, just give me a minute."

"Okay." Alice smiled. "I'll meet you downstairs."

Betty continued smiling as Alice walked away. Once she disappeared down the hall, Betty's face dropped and she glanced back at the calendar. The light on the wall disappeared behind a cloud, throwing it into shadow, the light in her eyes falling as well.

Then she grabbed her bag and coat and walked out the door.

---

Veronica pulled a pair of shimmering purple and black earrings out from one of the jewelry boxes on her vanity, laying them out on the white tabletop as she sat down in front of the mirror. She crossed her legs, tinkering with the hook as she began to place the first one in her ear.

As she finished looping the second one, she heard her phone begin to buzz and looked over as it vibrated across the vanity table. Her chest tightened for a moment, a perplexed frown crossing her face as she saw "Unknown Caller" flash across the top of the screen.

Veronica glanced around the room, a strange sensation like she was being watched creeping over her. She slowly swiped to answer, bringing the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

There was a moment of nothing but dead air, and then:

"Hello. This is a collect call from: Hiram Lodge, an inmate at the Lodge Detention Center. This call will be recorded and is subject to monitoring at any time. To accept this call, please press 1."

Click.

Veronica promptly hung up and let out a short breath, throwing her phone back down on the vanity, staring at it as though it were a snake that had just tried to bite her.

She sat rigidly, blinking down at it, her fingers tapping against her crossed arms. She glanced back up into the mirror, seeing red creeping into her face and eyes.

Veronica took in a deep breath and shook her head, then reached forward for her make-up kit.

---

"Ah, ah, ah, no!"

FP grabbed Jughead and steered him out of the kitchen before he could sink his spoon back into the bowl of mashed potatoes.

"You said I could help!" Jughead protested halfheartedly, continuing to lick the spoon as he was led into the dining room.

"Yeah, with the cooking and the place setting. Not the eating." FP snatched the spoon out of his son's mouth and opened up the cabinet they were now in front of. "You can't eat everything before anyone gets here." He grabbed a handful of plates off of one of the shelves and handed them to Jughead. "Now, can you set the tables, please?"

Jughead huffed but took the stack of plates and began setting them in front of each chair. Before she had left, Alice had decorated the dining room table with an orange and brown table cloth and runner, with a small cornucopia surrounded by a wreath of leaves placed as the centerpiece. FP had moved the couch around in the living room and set up a smaller card table next to the main one in order to fit everyone.

The doorbell rang as FP headed back into the kitchen.

"I'll get it!" Jellybean called as she sprang from her place on the couch. FP nodded and leaned down in front of the oven, partially opening it up to check on the various dishes inside, a flood of heat rolling over his face as he did.

The front door closed and a voice came drifting into the kitchen. "Wow, it smells great in here."

FP turned his head, straightening up as Charles walked into the room. "Hey," FP breathed as he glanced at the clock above the stove. "You're early, it's only 11."

"I know," Charles said, "but I was up and ready and didn't have anything to do. So here I am." He held up a plate of brownies covered in plastic wrap with a smile. "And I brought some dessert."

FP leaned against the kitchen island. "I said you didn't need to bring anything."

"I know but I wanted to." He shrugged, bobbing his head as he set the plate down on the counter next to a few other dishes. "I've never actually made brownies before though, so I don't know how good they taste."

"I'll happily test them," Jughead chirped from across the room, holding a plate enthusiastically up in his hand.

FP smirked and pointed a finger back at him. "After dinner. Keep setting up before everyone else gets here."

Jughead sent his own smirk back and moved on to the next placement.

"I call sitting at the kid's table!" Jellybean rushed into the room beside Jughead, shoving a handful of pumpkin seeds into her mouth.

"Oh!" Charles playfully scoffed, pushing himself off of the counter. "Me too."

Jughead snorted. "All yours." He laughed, and Charles did too as he swiped a pile of silverware off the counter and headed over to Jughead and Jellybean, joining in their conversation.

FP continued to lean against the counter, watching the timer on the oven out of the corner of his eye, the other observing what was happening in the dining room. A wide smile spread across his face as he quietly watched all three of his children laughing and talking together.

---

Alice and Betty walked together on the red brick sidewalk downtown, paper bags in their arms as they moved away from the bodega. The streetlights and storefronts they passed were decorated, cornstalk and flower displays gently rustling in the breeze as the sky overhead grew a darker shade of gray.

"Maybe it'll snow." Alice glanced up at the clouds. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? If it snowed during dinner. Would really make it feel like the holidays."

She turned to Betty, who was staring down at the ground as they walked.

"Betty?"

Her head popped up this time and she blinked over at Alice. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. That would be nice." Betty's distracted answer paralleled how quiet and distant she had been the entire morning; she had barely said a word while shopping, even with Alice attempting to make conversation here and there.

"Are you okay?" she asked, knowing she was going to get a vague answer.

Alice knew that despite the open discussion they had had on Friday, that was only the first step. There were still issues of trust to work through, and Betty's experiences were not easy things to talk about either.

But she wanted to make her daughter forget about all the bad for just one day if she could.

"Just thinking about some things," Betty replied softly.

Alice stopped and swung around in front of Betty, placing a hand on her arm. "Are they things you want to talk about? While it's just us? I don't want you to have to put on a fake smile for anyone."

Betty searched her mother's eyes and, after a moment, her face seemed to sink. "Sorry, I don't mean to be so quiet, it's just that this morning I was looking at the calendar and realized that-,"

She froze.

"What is it?" Alice spun around, trying to see where her daughter was looking, her heart rate beginning to pick up.

She scanned the line of shops and offices and, with a sinking heart, realized what Betty's eyes must have drifted to.

Behind them, across the street, stood The Register. And in the middle of one of its plate-glass windows, among all the leaf and pumpkin stick-on decorations, was a faded, hand-made construction paper turkey, one of its googly eyes missing.

Alice's heart stopped racing, instead dropping. "Oh, honey. Hal must have left it there. The employees must have just put it up, not thinking anything of it."

Betty didn't answer and when Alice turned to her, she saw tears welling in her daughter's eyes, tears that were forming despite the battle she knew was taking place to keep them in.

"Hey, come here." Alice steered Betty over to a bench, grabbing the grocery bags out of her hands and setting them beside her. "I know how much our family has changed over the past few years, and how much pain that unraveling has caused. Even if I've tried to ignore it-," she angled her head, her eyes widening momentarily. "There's a lot to reckon with, and if you need to get any of your feelings about your father out, I'm here. I'll be able to understand."

"I don't want to cry for him," Betty moaned through her attempt to hold back the tears, her cheeks and nose growing a deeper shade of red than the cold of the winter air had already made them. "He killed people. He tried to kill us! He shouldn't get tears."

They sat for a moment in the cold, Alice taking Betty's hand as she lost the battle, a flood of tears openly falling down her face, her nose running against the raw chill around them.

"But he also played catch with you as a kid, and taught you everything you know about cars," Alice said softly. "And he hung up a handmade turkey you made in elementary school every year." She flapped a hand, her own voice cracking slightly. "And I was married to him for years."

Betty rubbed beneath her eyes. "Do you think we'll ever get past it? Do you think we'll ever feel free of him? Of any of the things that follow us around?"

Alice crinkled her forehead, gripping Betty's hand tighter as she looked down at her. "I think the fact that later today, our house is going to be full of people that haven't given up on us says that we can."

Betty sniffed and leaned back against the bench. "I think being this close to my therapist's office is rubbing off on you."

"And I think being around Charles is rubbing off on you." Alice smiled, holding the top of the grocery bags as a small breeze blew them around. "Was there something else? You were starting to say something before."

Betty's hands curled in her lap, but she scrunched her mouth to the side and shook her head. "No. It's nothing."

"Do you want to still sit here for a moment?" Alice offered, noticing that Betty was still a bit shaky.

She nodded.

Alice moved the grocery bags that sat in between her and Betty and placed them to the side, sliding closer to her daughter and wrapping her arms around her. As they settled back against the bench, watching a handful of other patrons last-minute move around the town square, Betty gazed up into the sky, her eyes exploring the gray ridges and crests above her. Searching for what, Alice wasn't sure, but she hoped she was able to find it.

---

The thumping whir of converging engines crowded the air as a procession of motorcycles swarmed into the parking lot of the community center, the leather Serpent crests of the owners flapping around them as they turned into open spots.

Toni and Cheryl walked beside the moving bikes, their heels clacking against the cold concrete as they strode toward the building.

"It was nice of Archie and Monroe to let us use their space," Toni stated as they headed toward the community center entrance. "I guess he really meant it when he said everyone was welcome."

"I didn't know the Serpents cherished their traditions so much," Cheryl probed. "It's rather quaint seeing everyone come together."

A cheeky snort sounded behind them. "Says the one whose family has kept us in poverty for years," Sweet Pea blanched as he swerved beside them, hefting a few large jugs in his arms.

Toni smacked him on the arm as he passed, but also didn't argue that point, Cheryl noticed.

"Well, some of us are working on distancing themselves from their family name," Cheryl shot back, casting a glance at Toni as she did. "Some of us are trying to step into different stories, Sweet Tea."

"Pea."

Toni sniggered as Sweet Pea protested, but he quieted down as they continued walking, fist bumping a few of the other younger Serpents and joining in conversation with them as they passed.

Toni leaned into Cheryl's shoulder, slipping her arm around hers as she leaned in to whisper, "There will always be the outliers but we look out for each other. There have been some good things that have come out of our little struggling community."

"That's properly thematic." Cheryl rocked around, her hands burrowing into her jacket pockets, the leather inside warm compared to the exposed exterior. "And this is certainly better than a house that's too empty for its own good."

"It certainly is," Toni concurred. "Though, I will admit that I do miss the Wyrm."

Sweet Pea swung back around toward the girls, the chains against his jeans rattling. "First that jackoff Lodge buys it out from under us, and now the cops have it all roped off like a crime scene. We never get what's rightfully ours."

Cheryl and Toni both narrowed their eyes. "Crime scene?" Toni asked. "What happened?"

Sweet Pea gave a dispassionate shrug. "Don't know. But a few of us have seen some of those FBI agents swarming around the place. They won't let any of us near it."

The girls gave each other uneasy looks as they stepped through the front of the community center, but any disquiet that may have been roused by that news soon melted away as they joined in the hearty camaraderie that filled the interior of the center, the smell of food and jovial laughter wrapping around them.

---

"Coming through! Coming through! Hot hot hot!" Kevin sped between Tom and Sierra as he headed for the table with a burning dish of green bean casserole, sliding it quickly onto a hot plate.

"Careful, bud." Tom slapped him on the back as Kevin shook out his hands. "No need to hurt yourself."

"Sorry, I didn't think it was going to be so hot." Kevin walked around the table and back into the kitchen. "Sierra, what else do you need? Do you need any help?"

"All I need is for you to sit down for a moment. You've been running around non-stop all morning." Tom wormed his way over to Sierra, slipping into her side as he sipped on a glass of whiskey. "Listen to your dad, don't hurt yourself."

Kevin gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, giving them a slight nod. He wanted to be helpful after feeling as though he had been absent for so long, but perhaps he was trying to be too helpful.

There was a loud, long knock at the door.

Everyone in the kitchen froze.

"We didn't invite anyone over, did we?" Kevin questioned slowly, sending a frantic look between Sierra and his dad.

Tom shook his head.

"It's not any of your police friends?" Sierra whisper-asked, turning her back to Kevin.

"Shouldn't be." Tom shook his head again, and he and Sierra started into a hushed conversation.

Kevin, meanwhile, made his way over to the door. He crept up to it and slowly peeked through the peephole.

They all really needed a vacation.

Or at the very least learn how to not have their first reaction to normal things be fear, because Kevin suddenly threw open the locks, swinging the door open, a huge smile on his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you, too, little bro." Josie smiled back from the porch.

---

FP raised his head as he heard the front door open and soon Alice and Betty were walking inside, each with handfuls of grocery bags.

Alice handed hers over to FP as she entered the kitchen. FP glanced at the clock above the stove. "That took longer than expected. Everything alright?" he asked as they began to unpack the groceries, spreading the cheeses out across the counter.

"Everything's okay." Alice nodded, sounding slightly winded. "I just wanted to make sure she got a bit of alone time before everyone got here."

FP turned over his shoulder to peer into the living room, watching as Betty pulled out of a hug from Charles and proceeded to bounce up the stairs.

"How has everything been here?" He heard Alice ask.

FP moved his eyes over to the living room, where Jellybean and Jughead were camped out at the coffee table playing a game of cards, the TV droning in the background.

"Good." He turned back around. "Everything has been good." He let a grin slip onto his face as he pulled a pot out from one of the cabinets next to the stove, grabbing one of the boxes of macaroni. Alice opened the oven and poked around at each dish baking within.

"Now, the real question," FP asked as he looked over her shoulder. "Does everything look good there?"

Alice closed the door, straightening back up, and this time it was her turn to flash a grin. "From where I'm standing, it all looks great to me. Thank you."

FP's grin turned into a smirk and they both leaned toward each other, letting a kiss take the place of their conversation.

xxx

About an hour later, the house was full of boisterous chatter and luscious smells, all of the platters and dishes now spread across the main dining room table and counters.

The Andrews had arrived with Vegas in tow and the dog was waiting patiently under the table, taking up a ready position for any scraps to come his way. Veronica ended up bringing a fancy cheese platter, ironically, which looked excellent set out next to the mac and cheese. Now she and Betty were in the living room, taking pictures together before the inevitable food coma took them over.

Jughead watched them quietly from the couch, spinning his drink around in his hand, grinning as he heard Betty's laugh drift through the room.

He felt the cushions on the couch sink beside him.

"Hey," Archie chimed. "You doing okay?"

Jughead scrunched his brow. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be doing okay?"

Archie shrugged, a hesitant frown on his face. "Just from, you know, the fact you don't like gatherings. And you haven't exactly had a normal Thanksgiving in a while."

Jughead swirled the ice around in his drink as he shifted further up on the couch. "Oh. No, no, I'm fine. I'm actually doing good right now." He glanced back over at Betty. "I think everyone's doing good right now."

He saw Archie dip his head and quickly added, "But I appreciate you asking."

Archie bobbed his head, taking a small sip of his drink. "You know the Serpents are using the community center for their dinner."

Jughead let out a low chuckle. "Really?" He crossed his arms, a smirk on his face. "You do know how big of a mess they're going to leave, don't you?"

Archie snickered. "Well, I'll just make your dad clean it up."

Jughead scrunched his brow and Archie gave him an unsure frown for a second time. "Didn't he tell you? He's going to start volunteering at the center for a bit before he takes on a position there."

Jughead shot a look over his shoulder at FP, then back at Archie. "No way. That's awesome!" He chuckled his way into a smile, a warm swell replacing the small sense of dread that had begun to creep its way up his chest. "Helping out with the FBI and also finding time to still help the town? Wow, he's come a long way, hasn't he?"

"Haven't we all," Archie tutted quietly, taking a swig of his soda.

"Boys!" Veronica's bubbly voice met their ears. "Come here! We want a picture!"

Betty and Veronica were in front of the fireplace, waving them enthusiastically over. Archie and Jughead looked at each other and smiled before bounding across the room to join their girlfriends.

Jughead wrapped his arms around Betty and rested his chin on her shoulder, smiling up at Veronica's outstretched phone as she took a few selfies. The friends laughed as Vegas pushed his way into the picture, and Jughead took the opportunity to lift Betty off her feet and swing her around. She squealed, a surprised chortle escaping her lips, but it soon turned into a giggle as she reached out for his beanie in retaliation. Veronica rustled Archie's hair as Vegas joined in with an excited yip.

Jughead had no doubt that one or more of the following pictures that were being snapped right now were going to end up being some of his new favorites.

"Alright, everyone!" FP's commanding voice called from the kitchen. "It's time!"

The friends collapsed into a pleased heap in front of the stone fireplace. Betty smoothed out her orange sweater and swept a strand of hair behind her ear before pushing Jughead toward the table. Everyone arranged themselves into a circle around the main table, FP and Alice standing together at the head.

"Thank you for coming," FP continued once everyone had settled into place. "Uh, now I know we all want to get to the food so I won't yammer on that long. I don't know how Jughead got his speaking skills because it sure wasn't from me." He rubbed a hand along his chin as his remark earned a few snickers. "But I know that this has been a long year and if I'm being honest, a long month."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jughead saw Betty's face go to the floor for a brief moment.

"But today we're all together, and there's something really special about that considering all we've been through." He put his arm around Jellybean, who was beaming up at him. "And I thought it could be nice, well-," he cocked his head, "Alice thought it would be nice – to go around and say something we're all thankful for."

"Oh." Mary clapped her hands. "That's a wonderful idea, FP. I'll go first." The room grew quiet as she picked up her drink and looked around the room. "I know this may sound a little strange to start with, but I'm thankful for all the time we had with the ones who are no longer with us."

Everyone lifted their glass, giving a silent toast.

Archie swallowed, his eyes on the floor as he pushed himself closer to his mom before raising his glass. "To all the time we get to spend with the ones still here."

"And to new beginnings." Jughead winked at his father, a big smile on his face.

FP's eyes held a warm pride and he stretched his arm out, nodding with his glass of water.

Veronica cleared her throat. "To second homes." She smiled over at Archie and Betty.

"And to having a home," JB piped up, leaning into FP's side. "And to cranberry sauce."

"Ok-ay." Jughead elbowed her teasingly. "That's pushing it."

The group chuckled, but when they got quiet again, Alice wrapped her arm tightly around Betty. "I'm thankful for the ones I love making their way back home."

Jughead pushed himself into Betty as well, and he could see her face grow increasingly red, but she lifted her glass out in front of her, throwing a glance at Charles. "And to having others find their way here."

Charles gave a little side grin, his face also red. He raised his glass. "To the lost becoming the found."

"And to the found becoming family." FP rounded the acknowledgments out, his arm raised high.

Everyone began clinking their glasses together, downing whatever combination of soda and ice they had, wistful glances and reflective sighs joining into the mix.

FP swapped his glass for a set of carving knives. "Alright, who's ready to cut into this bird?" Cheers followed as people began to take their seats around the full table. He turned, sticking the knife set out. "Charles, would you care to do the honors?"

The FBI agent's eyes widened as he looked down, hesitantly reaching for the cutlery. He stepped into FP's place at the head of the table looking as though he might explode. He ran the knives together before carefully placing them on top of the crispy brown skin of the turkey and sliced, a straight, thin portion of meat breaking away. The smile that crossed Charles' face spanned from ear to ear, and everyone around him cheered again as though they had just watched him blow out the candles on his birthday cake.

He juggled both knives in one hand, passing the first plate to FP. "Thank you, Charles."

"Thanks, Dad." He offhandedly said as he went back to carving the turkey.

FP paused, his mouth slightly open. He shared a glance with Alice, then over at Jughead.

He sent his father a huge grin as he bit into a roll, passing the basket over to Betty.

At many points in his life, Jughead found the sentiment of having a day for people to sit around and feel good about their lives to be nothing short of hokey and artificial, but now he was starting to change his mind.

This was a day to be grateful for so many things.

---

"So what's touring like? Did you meet anyone famous? Did you meet any cute boys?"

Kevin's questions were coming out in a fast and excited manner as he sat attentively on the couch, a plate of pie waiting in his lap.

"Slow down, Kevin." Josie shot him a tickled smile, raising one hand out. "We just ate. Let me just sit and chill for a moment now that I'm home."

Sierra set a pair of mugs down on the coffee table, sitting down next to Josie. "And I love that you're home. And for the holidays no less." She swung an arm behind her daughter, cozying up beside her. "We weren't expecting you, baby."

Josie grabbed one of the drinks. "That's the whole point of a surprise, Mom."

She laughed but looked around. Her mom was giving her a keen and slightly concerned look, and Kevin was eyeing her with some suspicion underneath his still radiating gawk.

Guess it was the same-old, same-old in Riverdale; everyone was still suspicious of everything, even a daughter just coming home to see her family.

"Listen, I know what's been going on here, and I wanted to check in on everyone. Especially you, Kev." She decided to just come out with the fact that she wasn't oblivious to the goings-on in town. "I didn't know you had action hero in you."

Kevin ducked his head, his face growing red as he gulped down a piece of his pie. "You heard about what happened?" Tom asked from his place above the couch, his arms crossing over his chest.

New York City for some reason seemed to be obsessed with the morose exploits of this little town.

Which, look who's talking, New York.

Josie nodded her head as she sipped gently on her hot coffee. "Mhm. The story is blowing up in the city, it's all over the news. All the outlets are hotly anticipating the trial."

Tom and Kevin exchanged glances. "So they're not expecting it to be held in Riverdale." The older man guessed as he rubbed his chin. "It's going to get the national treatment."

So much for curbing that suspicion.

She had wanted to save this for later, but might as well rip the band-aid off now.

"Which is actually part of the reason I'm back." Josie set her mug down, leaning forward on the couch. "I think you guys are going to need all the help you can get."

---

Charles leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter and scrolled through his phone, periodically glowering at the lines of messages and reports that were appearing on his screen.

"Please tell me you aren't working." Alice came up beside him with a stack of dirty plates, depositing them into the sink.

"Um, no." Charles quickly straightened up, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Some other people are, but, uh, I'm not."

Alice turned on the water and placed her hands on her hips as she faced him. "Anything we need to know about?"

Charles tapped his fingers against the counter and spun around, facing out into the living room. FP and Jughead were working their way through the line of desserts that had been set out. He turned his eyes toward Betty, who was clearing plates and transferring food into plastic containers.

He grabbed a dish towel, throwing it over his shoulder, his hand giving a small shake. "Nothing that can't wait for another day."

xxx

Archie slowly stroked Vegas' back as he was sprawled out across the couch, his head on Veronica's lap.

He was extremely grateful that he hadn't turned down Betty's offer to come over today, which for a while, he had wanted to, not wanting to be around anyone today. But feeling too full was far better than feeling too empty.

Vegas gave a short whimper, pushing his nose into Veronica's feet. Archie glanced from the dog up to her. She was staring out the window, her eyes in the distance. Archie had noticed that she had looked that way a few times throughout the day, she and Betty both.

"Hey," he gently called, pushing himself up into a sitting position on the couch. "You okay?"

"Hmm?" Veronica broke out of her daze. "Uh, yeah. I-," she stared down into the glowing light of her phone. "You know, it's getting a bit late, I think I might actually turn in a bit early."

Archie narrowed his brow. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Veronica shook her head. "No, that's alright, Archie." She let out a big yawn. "I think all the food is starting to hit and I just kind of want to lounge at my own leisure, you know?"

Archie continued to stare at her with a bit of reserved concern, but he nodded.

"Betty?" Veronica turned toward the dining room. "Would it be possible to get some leftovers to take home?"

"Sure!" Betty enthusiastically nodded back, walking over to a cupboard and grabbing some Tupperware. "Let me pack you some."

Veronica gave Archie a peck on the cheek before shimmying off the couch and over toward Betty. The two girls began to scoop servings of the various dishes between the two plastic containers Betty had gotten out.

Archie stared after them for a moment before collapsing back against the couch. He watched FP steer Charles away from the kitchen and whisper something in his ear before they were both grabbing their coats and heading out the door, sneaking glances back at Alice and Betty.

He angled his head but turned his attention to his phone, which had begun to buzz intermittently in his pocket. Archie grinned when he saw the name on the screen and brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, TJ! How's it going?"

Archie shifted, pushing himself up against the cushions as he listened to the boy. "He took you to Pop's? That's awesome."

He continued listening, nodding along with the TJ's account. Then his smile slowly shifted into a taken aback, heartened gape. "Your dad said that?" Archie stuttered in a dazed tone. He sniffed, hiking himself even higher on the couch. He chuckled, an exultant smile on his face. "Yeah, definitely bring him to the community center! I'm so glad to hear that, TJ."

Archie shifted his gaze over toward the dining room, catching Betty's eye. She was sending him a proud smile back.

"You're right. Things can be fixed," Archie said into the phone, turning back around. "Slowly, but they can."

---

A sterile buzzer sounded as several metal doors shook and clanked around in the corners of the visitation room of the prison. Veronica sat on the hard steel stool in front of the glass window, her nails tapping tensely on top of the cold table. She didn't love that this was becoming a familiar sight for her, but she was beginning to live with it.

She closed her eyes and breathed in a deep sigh as she continued to listen to the sounds around her, not opening her eyes until she heard what she was waiting for – footsteps that stopped in front of her window.

Veronica picked up the black phone next to her. "Hi, Mom."

Hermione gave her a warm smile through the glass. "Hello, Mija."

"I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while," Veronica said apologetically. "But I didn't want you to spend Thanksgiving alone." She motioned toward the plastic dish of leftovers that sat in front of her, and the one that had been delivered to her mother.

Hermione pulled the plate in front of her, taking in a deep breath, a wistfulness visibly washing over her. "I haven't had a homecooked meal in such a long time. It's not a glazed and roasted Upper East Side turkey-," she tilted her head, a sly grin on her face as she lifted her fork, "but I have a feeling today it'll taste just as good."

Veronica smiled and pulled her plate closer in as well. "I do have to recommend the sweet potatoes, and the mashed potatoes for that matter." She laughed. "Honestly, I recommend everything."

They both laughed before quieting down. Veronica twirled the stiff cord of the phone in her hand.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Mom. We're going to be able to sit in the same room again, without this glass getting in the way."

Hermione gave Veronica a sympathetic frown. "Honey, don't worry about that. Just sit and eat with me today, okay?"

Her voice was calm and unbothered, and Veronica realized that she truly did look relaxed. It seems her mother was also beginning to live with the circumstances as well, and just wanted to be grateful for the time she was able to spend with her daughter instead of worrying about what came next.

Veronica lowered her hand, giving her mother a meaningful nod, and instead picked up her fork. The two women continued to talk into the evening, sharing in their meal and each other's company, not worrying about how they were spending their time together, just that they were together.

---

When the sun had gone down and the guests had gone home, when all the platters and plates had been cleaned and put away, the household grew quiet and content, its residents full of food and comfortable fatigue.

It was a languid evening that felt hard-won, earned. Everyone was free to do nothing but sit around and cherish their time together, something they hadn't been able to do in what felt like forever. Hopefully, it was the first of many still to come.

And luckily there was still no pink, sugary goo from a can in sight.

Jughead and Betty were lying together on the couch, a blanket wrapped around them as they watched a black and white holiday movie. The fireplace roared beside the TV, the red and orange flames throwing a soft glow around the dim room. Jellybean was slumped on the floor while Alice had disappeared down into the basement.

Betty scooped up a handful of pumpkin seeds from the bowl on her lap, taking a placated breath as she nestled back into Jughead's chest.

He tucked his chin beside her ear. "Are you happy?"

Betty twisted her neck up, attempting to see into his face. "What?"

Jughead shifted so that he was higher on the couch and they could see each other's faces. "Are you happy?" he gently repeated.

The TV and firelight flickered across Betty's thoughtful face. She looked up at Jughead and shook her head. "Yeah, I think I am."

A warmth spread its way through him, and Jughead wanted to believe it was from the genuine grin spreading across Betty's face rather than the stupor of his full stomach.

"I was thinking about earlier, when we were all going around saying what we're thankful for-," Jughead slowly wrapped his arms around Betty, lacing his fingers between hers. "And I didn't get the chance to say how grateful I am that you're alright and made it home."

There was a swell of music from the movie around them and he felt her squeeze his fingers a bit tighter.

She swung her head back around. "And I'm grateful that I have friends that never gave up on finding me."

"Never." Jughead leaned down and rested his head on hers, whispering into her hair. "We weren't going to let you stay out there one night longer than you already had to. We had to make sure you would still be able to watch old movies and have lazy evenings."

Betty's fingers slipped away from his, and he felt her stiffen. The blankets tugged away as she turned over, placing the bowl of pumpkin seeds aside and bringing her elbow up to rest on the cushions.

"Jughead Jones, when did you become the sentimental type?"

She was giving him an appreciative smile, her eyes deep and earnest in the dark. Jughead chuckled softly as he tucked his elbow under him as well. "Maybe it's all the food talking."

They rested their heads together as the front door clicked open. Soon, a brittle scraping sounded through the room. Jughead peeked up from behind the covers and suddenly straightened up.

"And it looks like I'm not the only one being sentimental tonight."

Jughead and Betty shuffled upward on the couch, watching as FP and Charles dragged a large evergreen tree through the front door, a small trail of pine needles tracking behind it.

"No way," Betty muttered as they deposited the tree into the living room, a large, elated smile creeping onto her face. "Mom, did you do this?" she called.

Alice stood in the doorway to the basement, holding a stack of cardboard boxes that contained ornaments, an old-fashioned print of Santa Claus on the side of them. "I thought it about time we brought back this tradition."

Betty bounced off the sofa, turning back around toward Jughead. "We used to go out and get our tree every Thanksgiving after dinner, decorating it and the whole house all night. We stopped doing it before I started high school, though."

"Well-," FP grunted as he worked on balancing the tree in the stand, the fluffy pine branches swathing his face. "I hope you're not too tired to start that up again tonight. Because if I do say so myself, Charles and I got a good one here."

"Yfah we dhiw!" Charles exclaimed through the thick branches.

Jellybean threw her blanket away and skipped over to the tree as FP made his way out from behind it. Alice set the boxes down on the coffee table, beginning to rifle through them. She handed Betty one that looked to be handmade, a bunch of puffballs and popsicle sticks glued together to look like a reindeer.

Betty held it in her hand, staring down at it for a moment, then eagerly reached out to Jughead, pulling him up off the couch and toward the tree, the smile never once leaving her face.

---

Pulsing rock music shook the inside of the community center, hanging over the Serpents as they moved from table to table in packs, hooting and hugging as they worked their way around the room like a bride and groom at a wedding reception. Cheryl and Toni relaxed against the ropes of the boxing ring, watching from above with Sweet Pea next to them, lazily lounging in the middle of the ring as he polished off a bag of chips.

"You know, that was a pretty lovely evening," Cheryl hummed, twisting her fingers through Toni's as they looped their arms through the ropes.

"You say that with surprise, and a hint of judgment." Toni crossed her arms over her stomach, leaning back against the corner post.

Cheryl craned her neck looking over at Toni, a feisty smirk on her face until she realized that Toni was sending her one back, clearly meaning that as a friendly jest.

"I appreciate you still calling it lovely even after the arm wrestling." Toni bumped her shoulder up against Cheryl's, the amused smirk still on her face.

Cheryl smiled. "While I admit that the entertainment for the evening was a bit unorthodox, it did feel good to let loose a little. I had almost forgotten what having conversation and some fun over a meal was like."

Toni moved off her shoulder and Cheryl looked over. Under the dim lights, she could see that her face had grown softer, her smirk now slightly downturned and curled. "What is it? I know that look."

Toni repositioned herself so that she was facing Cheryl more directly. "You really are trying to move on from your family, huh?"

Cheryl tempered her gaze. "Yes. I don't want to live in empty houses anymore, or with an empty heart."

"It's not empty." Toni moved closer to her. "From what I've seen it's quite full, you just like to hide it. But we're working on that, right?" She rubbed Cheryl's arm. "How was your first counseling session?"

The music blared around them as Cheryl took a deep breath. "It was mostly logistics - goal-setting and all that." Cheryl clicked her tongue as she moved her arms back in between the ropes. "But it wasn't terrible."

Toni nodded, placing her foot up on the edge of the ring. "Hey, you're trying. And in the meantime, you can do what the rest of us here did-," she waved her hand out, "and build your own family."

A door opened and closed behind them as Cheryl reached over and grabbed Toni's hand. "I think I already have been." She bent forward, kissing the girl on the lips. "And I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for you."

Hesitant footsteps walked beside the boxing ring and soon a timid voice sounded below them.

"Is that family still accepting members?"

Cheryl and Toni straightened up, and Sweet Pea immediately popped to his feet, throwing himself against the edge of the ropes. "Fangs?"

"Hey." The younger Serpent nervously gave a small wave. He was standing with his head dipped as he moved his eyes between the floor and the teens, his hands balled into the pockets of his jacket, a thin backpack draped over his shoulder.

Cheryl and Toni stood silently in the boxing ring, giving each other anxious glances.

"I know I hurt people, but I'm getting better." Fangs took a step closer. "And the FBI finally cleared me, and… I didn't know where else to go."

Cheryl and Toni continued to stand rigidly where they were, but Sweet Pea swung his legs over the ropes, hopping down from the boxing ring and onto the floor in front of Fangs. He stood for a moment, his mouth drawn up in a tight grimace.

Then he pulled Fangs in for a tight hug.

"We take care of our own." He slapped Fangs on the shoulders, looking him directly in the eyes. "Welcome home, man."

---

The completed tree sparkled and shimmered in the darkened living room, its reflection glowing in the front window. Garland was wrapped around the banisters and windowsills, and a wreath had been hung on the back of the front door. The smell of cinnamon and chocolate wafted through the house, in part from the scented garnishes adorning the fireplace mantle, and in part from the mugs of hot chocolate scattered around the room.

Everyone had returned to their lounging, another movie playing faintly in the background. Charles was going through an old photo album with Alice, while FP and Jellybean were camped out on the floor in front of the TV. Jughead was once again stretched out on the couch, only this time he had it to himself.

Once the tree had been properly decorated, Betty had quieted down and retired to a chair by the window, pulling a pillow into her lap. She was back to looking lost in thought, her eyes echoing the flickering flames of the fireplace.

So Jughead let her be and silently watched the movie, throwing a vigilant glance her way every now and then.

FP eventually stretched and rose from his place on the floor, making his way into the kitchen. As he did, Jughead quickly slid off the couch and followed, tapping his dad on the shoulder. "Hey!" he whispered. "Archie told me that you have a job at the community center. Why didn't you tell me?"

The older man placed his mug down on the kitchen counter, a sigh escaping his lips. "I didn't-," he paused. "I still don't know if I'm going to accept it. Especially right now, what with the case still going on, and everything with the FBI."

"What? Don't let that stop you," Jughead argued back. "If anything, I bet some of the kids at the center would love to have an active FBI asset around them."

FP continued to stare down at the counter, not looking convinced.

Jughead crossed his arms and looked up at FP, his mouth opened in a surprised curl. "Dad, look at everyone that's in that room right there-," he cocked his head toward the living room. "Look at where we are right now. I-, I know that I've held onto the past too much at times, but don't let it hold you back from taking this opportunity."

FP stared down at him for a moment, his eyes darting over his son, and then he reached forward and pulled Jughead in for a hug.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Jughead wrapped his dad back in a hug, knowing the weight he may have been – and may still be – carrying around with him. And he wanted to make sure that wasn't holding him back from moving forward.

"Hey, look!" Jughead heard Jellybean shout from the living room. "It's snowing!"

The Jones men pulled apart and strolled back into the front room, finding JB pushed up against the window. Sure enough, under the light of the street lamps, sizeable, white flakes were swirling through the black night outside.

Jughead watched it fall for a moment before looking over at Betty.

She had straightened up, her gaze pointed up at the dark clouds and falling snow. There was a gleam about her face, a twinkle of mesmerized fascination in her eyes. Jughead watched as she rose from the chair and walked closer to the window, her hand raised ever so slightly out in front of her as though she was afraid that if she touched the window it would break the spell.

She stood there, so still that Jughead turned toward Alice and Charles. Alice had her eyes on Betty as well, a curious concern on her face. Charles simply met Jughead's eyes and softly raised his hand.

Jughead swallowed and stepped forward, coming up behind Betty, quietly watching out the window along with her.

"Today would have been forty days."

It took a moment for the discreet admission to register in Jughead's mind, but when it did his eyes widened and he pushed closer to Betty. "What?"

She continued staring out the window, the child-like captivation on her face unbreaking. "The forty days Edgar had meant for me. Today would have been forty days."

The crackling of the fireplace filled the room, no one daring to speak. The ground began to grow white as the snow continued to blow outside. In the reflection in the window, Jughead could see Betty's eyes wander, a sense of sorrow mingling with the awe. But instead of it leaving her torn and sad, it seemed to accentuate the thrall, an unfettered sense of reprieve exuding from her face.

She moved, her walk slow, but felt swift in contrast to her recent stillness. It startled Jughead, but he didn't do anything but stare after her as she headed into the foyer. Betty stood with a perplexing hesitancy in front of the red door, her hand still cautiously out in front of her, now hovering over the doorknob.

No one moved after her. Jughead wasn't sure why, but it didn't feel right, and the others in the house seemed to feel the same way.

Eventually, Betty grabbed the knob, twisting it in her hand and pulling the door open, a sharp breath emanating from her, churning white in the freshly cold air. She stepped through and walked out into the yard, leaving the door open behind her.

Betty strode further, standing at the top of the small stone staircase that led down onto the sidewalk, her frame lit up by the sharp glare of the street lamp beside her. The snow whipped around her, billowing in a way that resembled the curl of a flowing white dress.

Everyone in the house watched in their own enchantment as she slowly stretched her arms out, her face upturned to the dark sky, basking in the unbridled flurry of snow under a silent and smiling moon, the night wild and free around her.

---

And that's all for now!

I hope you enjoyed this one, even if was longer than I expected (aren't they all?)

The next chapter is right back into the thick of things and has lots more emotions, but hopefully, this was a softer, slower chapter that was able to serve as a palette cleanser.

It will still be a while until I put out the next chapter, as my summer schedule is winding down and it's almost back to the crazy grind, but I will say that the next chapter has two of my favorite scenes that I have ever written. :) So I'll leave you on that little enticing tidbit.

Thank you all for continuing to read and review, and again, I appreciate any notes you leave and love seeing what people like and pick out, what stands out to everyone, and if they zero in on some of my favorite stuff as well.

Hope you are all having a great summer!