Sweet Pea deposited Betty in the back of the van and ran around to the driver's side, leaving Jughead to crawl into the backseat with her. He took off his mask, taking a moment to steady himself, before taking off the sack that he had placed over her head. Betty sat before him, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, and he knew she didn't recognize him. Don't cry. Please don't cry. "Shh." He rubbed at the tears on her skin, catching them with the pad of his thumb. "I promise you; we don't want to hurt you."

The cloth prevented her from speaking as she looked at him. "I can take out the gag when we get back to our location, okay?" Jughead asked, desperate to make her believe he didn't want to hurt her. He knew that was a hard pill to swallow when he pointed a gun at the back of her head and told her not to move.

Sweet Pea was driving down the streets, taking turns at sharp curves, and Betty went sliding alongside the seat. Jughead stilled her with a rough, calloused hand, and held her in place before looking towards the front seat. "Easy on the turns, Sweets."

"Right," the taller replied, taking the next turn at a much slower pace than the ones before it. He looked at Betty, noting that more tears were glazing her face, and he sighed softly.

"Hey," he whispered lowly in her ear, hating the fact that he could feel her shaking. "Just take a moment to breathe. Try to relax. We don't want to hurt you."

"Mmph," she mumbled against the cloth and Jughead's fingers moved of their own volition. He was easing the gag out of her mouth, looking at her encouragingly.

"What?" Jughead asked.

"Please – please let me go," she whispered, voice hiccupping. "I won't tell anyone that you guys kidnapped me."

He sighed softly, heart wrenching in his chest. "We can't do that. Hal owes us a lot of money."

Her eyes narrowed then dulled. She sighed. "Trust my dad's gambling to have come to the Serpents."

"You know who we are?" Jughead asked.

Betty's breathing was irregular but she was able to get out a few short, choppy words. "I recognized the jackets."

Jughead sighed softly, pressing the gag back into her mouth with an apologetic look. They were at the Whyte Wyrm. "Come on."

She sniffled and stood up, with Jughead's constant hand on her lower back. He guided her out of the van, stepping down first and then turning to lift her. He saw her ankle twist the same moment she tried to stop it and she fell into him. Steadying her, he looked at her ankle, then her. "Can you put weight on it?"

Her face scrunched up in pain as she bore down weight on her ankle, fresh tears leaking out; he had his answer. Scooping her up, he carried her into the bar in his arms, ignoring every face of the Serpents upturned towards him. Making a split second decision, he altered his course and carried her to his apartment instead of the basement. It didn't seem right to lock her down there now that she was hurt. Sweet Pea stopped to talk to Fangs as Jughead carried her up the stairs. He knew the shorter man didn't agree with this kidnapping and Sweet Pea was trying to make him understand that they didn't have another choice.

There's always another choice, Jughead.

He pushed out the incessant thoughts, shooing them away as if they were nothing more than a persistent fly. He would have to have that come to Jesus moment at a later date. Like when he wasn't carrying his hostage up a flight of stairs, towards his apartment. Unlocking his door with one hand, he pushed it open with his hip, scooching his way into his apartment. A quick glance told him that Betty still had silent tears streaking her face and his gut clenched uncomfortably. He hadn't ever wanted to scare anyone but he knew it came with the leathers adorning his back.

He carried her to the living room, looking at the chair he had sitting at his kitchen table. Eyes rolling to his bedroom, he made another split second decision and turned on his heel, carrying her in there instead. He pushed open his bedroom door, making his way towards his bed. "I'm going to give you the bedroom. I'll take the couch." Like he was some chivalrous gentleman instead of an abductor. He rolled his eyes inward at his own foolish thinking. And wishing.

Setting her down on the bed, he zip tied her ankle to the bedpost, giving her some freedom but not enough that she could get out of the bed. Leaving her hands tied, his fingers met at the back of her head, pulling her towards him gently, and he unknotted the cloth around her mouth, slipping it off her. She stared at him, tears obscuring her vision, and he knew she was scared and in pain. She licked her lips nervously. "How long until I can go home again?"

"A month, tops," he whispered, hating himself for ever being a part of something as awful as kidnapping. "We just need Hal to pay us back."

She sneered, anger blazing her eyes. "Good luck with that."

He didn't deem that a reply, figuring she'd say as much in the first place. Then he was looking at her ankle that had already begun to swell. "Let me wrap this."

"It's fine," she dismissed, but he patted her shoulder gently – not wanting to alarm her by touching her leg – and he went and got his first aid kit. Wrapping her ankle, he made sure his ministrations were soft and gentle, never moving her foot too fast for fear of hurting her. When that was done, he settled her ankle back down and covered her with his blanket.

"It's not much, but I hope it helps calm you down," he murmured. She looked at him, slowly nodding the next moment and he realized that there was nothing more to say. He turned on his heel, walking out of the room and away from the woman who had done nothing more than be born to Hal Cooper.