AN: I think Riverdale is such a silly and good show and I like it so much. I know if they made one of those shows for Peanuts, it would probably be terrible, but it COULD be amazing in a campy, fun way, so I'm putting good energy into the world with a little combination Lucy character study and shmoopy Schrucy emotions fic.


The residents of Pinetree Corners loved spending Friday nights at Sparky's. The diner was a popular hangout for people of every age; its family-friendly atmosphere and all-American menu attracted patrons in droves. It was one of the only pure places left in town, which made it even more attractive. Once you stepped inside, you knew you wouldn't have to worry about any of the problems that plagued the area; the gangs had an unspoken agreement to leave the place untouched.

All of this why Lucy had avoided entering the restaurant altogether, and instead stumbled into the alleyway that ran alongside it.

It was a relatively clean alley, as far as alleys went. It was only slightly damp today, and people usually kept this one free of needles. There was even a nice crate for her to sit on and catch her breath just out of view from the main sidewalk.

The light on the brick wall across from her was dim, and it flickered every so often. It was enough for her to see what she was doing, but that's all it was: enough.

Lucy's nose had stopped bleeding now, and after a quick self-survey, she didn't find anything broken. She was, however, going to bruise, and her favorite white shirt now had large crimson patches on the collar and sleeves. Ruined.

Heather and her stupid gaggle of minions had raided the Beagles' gathering spot, and she and Charlie Brown had made eyes at each other the whole time their friends had been trying to get the interlopers to leave. There was definite tension between those two, and they apparently thought the Red Baron wasn't the place to deepen it. The whole ridiculous charade was probably part of some elaborate courtship ritual they made up on the fly like a couple of fucked-up tropical birds.

Charlie Brown was like a brother to Lucy, and therefore, this annoyed her just as much as if it were Linus letting the enemy into their territory. God damn it, he knew better, and he was making the rest of them look bad.

She couldn't even remember what she said to incite it, but one thing had led to another, and Lucy threw a punch, starting a brawl with one of Heather's people. Some girl named Frieda. Lucy won, of course.

And once the pests began to slink off, Lucy immediately left the bar, not looking anybody in the eye as she stormed past them. They probably all thought she needed to cool off, which was only partially right. She needed to cool off because if someone talked to her, she might continue on her adrenaline high, and unless they were one of a few select people, she might break their jaw on autopilot.

She had done some serious damage to Frieda (her nose had made such a satisfying crunch after Lucy slammed her face on a table – she would be icing that for weeks), but she hadn't left unscathed. The wily bitch had gotten a few solid blows in, including a powerful kick to Lucy's ribs.

There was still annoyance at Charlie Brown lingering in the back of her mind, but she couldn't deny to herself that fight was the most fun she'd had in a while. It was almost worth the whole ordeal.

She'd never admit that to anyone, but she stewed on the thought for a while. She couldn't tell how it made her feel yet. Maybe she would know tomorrow.

It was mostly calm now. Her heartbeat was back to normal, and her injuries were starting to ache a bit. She would have to go home soon. Rerun would need dinner if Linus didn't make it there first. Hopefully, she had wiped all the blood from her face. She didn't want her youngest brother asking any questions.

Twenty or so minutes had passed since she had taken refuge in the alley. It was probably about time to get up and leave. The hour was a mystery, but the sun had gone down before she arrived, so it had to be after five or six.

Just as she was about to muster the will to open her eyes, a voice startled her: "Lucy?"

She looked, and saw Schroeder standing in front of her, his breathing slightly irregular and his eyes wide.

Perfect. This was the last thing she needed.

She did not need him to see her like this. Especially after that. She had to get rid of him before she embarrassed herself too much.

Frowning at him, she asked,. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked Sparky if he'd seen you, and he told me he saw you head this way." He took a step closer and wrung his hands. "I've been looking for you."

"Why?" The question came out grumpier than she intended, but if it deterred him from staying, then whatever.

The hand wringing stopped. "I wanted to check on you, but fine. Be that way."

"Charlie Brown sent you, didn't he? Go back and tell him I'm alive, but I don't wanna talk to him right now. He pissed me off."

"Believe it or not, I came of my own accord."

"Well, I'm fine. I'll survive, anyway. I've suffered worse." She slumped back. "You can rest easy now, I guess. Have a good night."

He sighed impatiently, waited for a moment, then sat next to her on the crate. His posture was rigid. "Lucy, I… I'm glad you're alright."

Schroeder was her best friend. She knew they were close, and he wasn't as averse to her as he sometimes pretended to be. But she had been painfully in love with him for so long, and she did not need to hear comforting words from him tonight. It might make her vulnerable, and she had to get through the rest of the evening with no strong emotions complicating things.

She stared at the brick wall across from her. "Thanks, sweetie, but don't bother worrying about me. If anything, it's Frieda that needs the attention after what I did to her."

"I don't care about Frieda."

That statement gave her an illusory glimmer of hope, but she knew the intention wasn't what she imagined it could be. She didn't reply.

Schroeder turned his body towards her slightly and gripped his knees. "Are you going to make it home okay?"

"I'm a big girl."

"Will you stop being so hard headed for two goddamn minutes?"

"You're the one who sat next to me, asshole." Lucy finally returned his eye contact. "I didn't ask for you to stay."

"I know you didn't. I'm here because we need to talk, Lucy. We really need to talk."

"I don't feel like talking. I was just kicked in the ribs by someone who wears fake nails to a bar brawl."

He shut his eyes. "You don't have to talk, then. I just have to tell you something while I still can."

"While you still can? What would stop you?"

There was a beat before he replied, "My nerves, mainly."

She felt a twinge of anticipation in the pit of her stomach. "What, then? What is it? Tell me so I can go home."

"You're not making this easier, you know." Schroeder rubbed his eyelids with one of his hands, and the other hand relaxed a bit. "But I guess that's one of the things about you that I… You can be really aggravating, you know that?"

The buzzing of the lamp on the wall filled the gap where her addition would have been.

His expression softened a bit, looking wistful even in the sharp angles of the alley. "You have a lot of amazing qualities. You're strong, and brave, and the most loyal person I've ever met."

"What's going on here?"

"Lucy, I'm going to tell you something, something very important, and I need you to listen."

She kept her face as steely as possible. She couldn't let herself hope. "Spit it out."

"Lucy, I…" his throat cleared and his voice lowered. His voice was slow and deliberate. "I need to tell you how much you mean to me. I've… never felt the same way for anyone else that I feel for you. Tonight reminded me how easily we can lose things, and I came looking for you because you're one of the only things I truly have to lose."

Lucy eyed him warily. He was looking at his lap now, and his ears were becoming pink. What the hell was happening? Was she dreaming? Had she passed out in this alley and her brain was conjuring imaginary situations that it thought might make her happy?

"Are you implying what I think you're implying, Schroeder?"

He looked up at her with eyes as wide and nervous as a deer caught in the headlights. "Uh… what do you think I'm implying? …Just so we're clear."

"That you have feelings for me. Romantic feelings. That you have a crush on me, and you're confessing this to me behind Sparky's because you simply couldn't wait any longer."

He coughed. "...I suppose that's accurate enough."

"Sorry, Schroeder, but you're not in love with me. You're not even remotely interested." She went back to staring at the wall.

This caught him off guard. "...Excuse me?"

She explained, "I understand. You're my friend, and you got freaked out because you saw my face covered in blood. That would freak most people out. But you're not in love with me just because you got worried for my safety. That's not how it works."

"Are you serious?"

"On any other night, I would think this was a bit cruel on your part, since you already know how I feel about you. But considering the circumstances, I won't hold it against you."

"I'm telling you the truth, Lucy. Why the hell would I lie about this?"

"Like I said, I don't think you're lying. I think, right now, you believe it's the truth." She gave him a weary look. "I just don't think you're in your right mind right now."

His brow formed a V shape and he gave her the same frown he always gave her when she was being difficult on purpose. "This isn't the first time this has crossed my mind, you know. Is it so inconceivable that I might want to be with you?"

"Even if you had considered it before, there's shit you don't know about me that would make you never consider it again."

"Try me," he said quickly.

"If I tell you, you might not even want to be friends anymore," she insisted matter-of-factly.

"Tell me anyway," he insisted right back. "I probably already know more about you than you think."

"Fine."

Lucy took a deep breath. She held steady eye contact with him, and watched as he waited for her to speak.

So patient. So willing to listen. It wouldn't last.

"I loved beating the shit out of Frieda. It was cathartic."

"I could kind of tell."

"But it's not just that. I love how it feels when I'm high on adrenaline and I'm in a real, honest-to-God fight. It makes me feel alive. Not much does these days."

Schroeder didn't seem fazed. "Is that all? I know you thrive in situations like that. That's something I admire about you; you're strong and self-assured."

She blinked. "Are you insane?"

"Not since I last checked. Lucy, you got into more fights than I can count when we were in high school. And middle school, and grade school." His lips betrayed a hint of a smile. "I trust you to be able to take care of yourself. Of course I don't want you to get hurt, but if you're ever in a fight, I've always been in your corner."

"Well, what about this? If it weren't for you and my brothers, I don't know what would stop me from driving an hour away and punching someone in the face at some random bar just to feel something. The only reason I don't do that is because I have responsibilities."

"That just tells me that you have a big heart." He looked at her with a severity that intimidated her. "You really do, deep down. I see that every day."

"So nothing I just said about my violent tendencies bothers you at all?"

"I know you're violent, and I don't care."

Lucy balked. Why was he arguing with her? Why didn't he just walk her home and get it over with, so they would never have to speak of this conversation again?

She leaned forward and her expression darkened. Not too close, so his delusions wouldn't be encouraged, but she wanted him to understand what he was dealing with.

Her voice was steady. "Not only am I violent, I'm bloodthirsty. I'm aware that Charlie Brown uses me as a weapon sometimes. I let him do that because I love it. I always have. I don't know how else to exist."

"Okay."

Frustration bubbled up inside her.

"And I've never killed anyone, but I don't want to ever reach that point, because I'm terrified that I'll like it."

The confession burned on her tongue. It was the first time she had ever voiced that thought, both out loud and to herself. And here she was, telling the love of her life the darkest thought she'd ever had, in hopes that he would just leave her alone, because she couldn't handle it if she got used to his love only for him to later take it away after finding out her true nature.

Schroeder considered Lucy's words carefully, and nodded slowly. "...That doesn't really surprise me."

She wasn't sure whether to feel relief or pain at his response. He didn't sound disgusted, but anyone in their right mind would be; why not him?

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "So, there you go. You can't love me. On all fronts, it's simply not possible."

It was a few heavy seconds before he responded. "...No."

So he agreed. At least that part was overwith.

"No, Lucy. Who the fuck are you to tell me what I do and don't feel?"

Wait… what?

She fired back, "What part of 'I'm the most fucked-up person in a 100 mile radius' don't you understand? Did you even hear what I just said?"

Schroeder looked exasperated. "I don't agree that you're too fucked-up for me to bother with, and you know what? Even if you were, I wouldn't care. You're my favorite person, and if you think anything you could say would change that, you're the insane one here, not me."

He looked so sincere. It was a little unnerving. For once, Lucy van Pelt was at a loss for words.

His eyes cast downward, and he looked at her balled-up fists with a frown. Her hands ached – they ached from the fight earlier, and they ached from years of wanting Schroeder.

She didn't notice how tightly she was clenching her fingers until she self-consciously relaxed them under his gaze. There was a new, sharp pain coming from her palms; she had dug her fingernails in so deep that they broke the skin. Great. Another injury to take care of later.

At the same time that Lucy pulled her hands back to try and hide them, Schroeder began to reach for them.

They both stopped for a moment, a bizarre, uncomfortable feeling weighing on Lucy's heart. The gesture surprised her. She didn't know how to react.

Before she could decide what to do, he continued, and took her fists in his hands. He used his thumb to try and gently pry one apart, but she barred its entry by reflex.

She dared to look back up at him, and found him staring at her with the softest expression she'd ever seen him wear. It made her chest hurt. He wasn't a gentle or soft person himself, and he knew damn well that she was even further from soft than he was. So why was he holding her hands as if she was something worth holding, and looking at her as if he…

Because he didn't. She was sure of it.

Schroeder tried to open Lucy's fingers again, and this time, she let him. A droplet or two of blood beaded on her freshly-inflicted nail marks. She studied his expression carefully, waiting for his reaction to the cuts and her bloody knuckles and the chipping blue nail polish that she hadn't had the energy or money to re-paint. He already knew her, he already understood her, so none of this would be a big shock to him, but she waited, regardless, for the flash of disappointment (or confirmation) in his eyes once it sunk in that they weren't going to work as a couple. That his so-called feelings were fleeting.

Instead, he stretched the sleeve of his sweater over his thumb. His brow furrowed slightly as he began to dab at the bleeding with the white fabric. He didn't even look nearly this focused when he was polishing the keys on his piano.

If she didn't know better, she might believe she was all he cared about in that moment. That sweater was going to be ruined now, after all (at least by his standards). It was like she was his, and the blood stains would prove it. It was a nice daydream to entertain for a few seconds.

She gritted her teeth and tried not to cry.

Once the bleeding stopped, which didn't take very long, Schroeder rolled his sleeve back up and closed her hands again, guiding her fingers with his so that they ended up nestled inside them. He brought her hands to his face, and she watched uselessly as he pressed a reverent kiss to one of her bruised knuckles.

She had never seen something so tender. Nobody had ever tended to one of her wounds before. Nobody had ever cared for her like this. Rerun was kept in the dark about a lot of things Lucy did, so he was often unaware of when she was hurt. Linus brought her an ice pack sometimes, because he was her brother and he had to, but she was usually left to patch herself up alone. And she had never minded that – until she saw Schroeder's attempt to prevent her from losing a tiny amount of blood. All at once, the idea of him not always being there to kiss her where it hurt was unbearable.

Lucy's throat was dry. She couldn't say much of anything for a second or two. Even if she found the words, she wouldn't have been able to string them together. All she could do was blink at him pathetically. He looked so worried and kind – a rarity for him. His blunt edges didn't usually make way for anything sentimental, but here they were.

"I love you," she managed to choke out in a whisper.

His eyes shut and he sighed slowly. "I… yes."

"But…"

"But what?" Schroeder gave her the same look he got when he was correcting her on something, but there was a twinge of desperation to it now. "I know. All that stuff you said before? I know. And I don't care."

"What changed?"

"Nothing." He stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. "Nothing changed. And that's kind of the point, I think."

"Even with…?"

"Yes. I know you. I know that you're violent and quick to anger and everything else you said, but I don't care. I mean, I do care, but I wouldn't want to change you. It's only because it means I might lose you. I know that you'll be in a situation like this again. It might be as soon as next week. So I realized I had to tell you how I felt as soon as possible. I couldn't bear the thought of you not knowing any longer."

So he cared about her getting hurt. Her breath caught in her throat. Both of them knew that she was a force of nature, and anyone who wanted to seriously mess her up wouldn't be able to do that easily.

She was in no danger of dying. But the mere thought of Schroeder being afraid of losing her was intoxicating.

"Then I need to hear you say it." She clenched her jaw and her lower lip quivered. "I need to hear you say it outright, if it's true. Please." Because if I don't, I don't know how I could trust you after tonight, and it might break me. Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. You're the only one who's capable of it.

"I love you." His eyes shut, and his blonde eyelashes fluttered under the weight of the confession. "I've always loved you. And I didn't realize how tired I was of pretending I don't love you until tonight."

Was she starting to believe him? What a strange feeling it was. "Why pretend?"

He laced their fingers together. "I was afraid of losing you then, too, just in a different way. You might not have felt the same way about me anymore, and then my best friend would be gone."

She scoffed. "You're insane if you think I could ever not love you. I just wasn't so sure of the other way around."

"'Wasn't?' Does that mean you're sure now?"

Feeling a little drunk on emotion and power, she inched towards him, just close enough so their knees were touching, and replied, "I don't know. You'll have to convince me some more."

His eyes opened, half-lidded, and they scanned her lips. "What do you need me to do?"

She sat up straighter and frowned in a fruitless attempt to appear aloof. In truth, she could hardly focus. "Figure it out, kid."

Before she could think about it too hard, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. It was warm and inviting, and her lip brushed a sharp bit of stubble he missed while shaving. If she had it her way, she would have sat there all night, covering his entire face with kisses and blabbering about how much he fascinated her. But that would have to wait for another evening.

What happened next was almost better. He raised his free hand to hold the back of her neck and move her face towards his. She shivered at the sensation of his fingertips, and she readied herself for their lips to meet, but it wasn't immediate – he instead rested his forehead against hers, causing their mismatched noses to bump together.

He then kissed one corner of her mouth, then the other, and quietly pleaded, "Listen to me. I need you. I need you."

He needed her. He loved her.

Lucy felt a jolt of selfish affection, and suddenly became furious at the mere concept of time. The sun would rise eventually, and this moment of theirs would be over, and she would never again experience what it felt like for Schroeder to tell her that he needed her for the first time. They'd have to go back to their daily lives, and they might be a couple, but she could never have him all to herself for all hours of the day. It was unfair. It was an outrage.

She cupped his face and pulled him closer. "Say it again."

He sighed longingly. "I need you, Lucy."

She kissed him like she was never going to see him again, impatiently and deeply. She briefly regretted her haste, but any regret she felt quickly vanished when he wrapped her in his arms, kissed her back, and said her name for only her to hear.

Outside of her brothers, Lucy was so used to human contact being rough and violent and intended to hurt. Sure, sometimes she would jokingly grab Schroeder's arm, and he might shove her away in jest, but their touch was always fairly restrained to avoid any serious implications. This was new. This was overwhelming.

It was another few minutes before they finally separated. Her flushed face was warm in the cool night air, and he appeared to be experiencing the same sensation.

She promptly embraced him again to bury her head into his shoulder. Might as well milk the situation for all it was worth, just in case it was temporary. She didn't care if it wasn't real anymore, because holding him and kissing him and running her hands through his hair was too amazing to pass up.

He held her close, cradling the back of her head with one hand and hugging her midsection with the other. "Are you convinced yet?"

She pondered it for a moment. "I definitely want to be."

"I can kiss you some more, if you think it would help."

"I wish we could sit here and make out until the sun explodes, but we can't." Unwelcome thoughts of duty interrupted her bliss. "I have to go home soon. My brothers are probably wondering where I am."

He slowly rocked them back and forth in place. "Let me come with you. I can help cook dinner."

"If you call making turkey sandwiches 'cooking', you're welcome to assist."

Schroeder chuckled into her hair. There had never been a more lovely sound.


The journey to the van Pelt house was short, but pleasant. Schroeder had linked his elbow with Lucy's as soon as they stood up, and she didn't pull away. They walked arm in arm for the entire ten minutes. Like a goddamn Christmas card.

She kind of loved it. With anyone else, she might have hated it. But with Schroeder, it was cozy. She suspected he would be able to get away with a lot of things that other people wouldn't.

They were mostly silent. She didn't want to say anything to fuck this up, and she spent the whole time praying they wouldn't run into any of their peers on the way. It might make her snap out of the dream she was having.

Schroeder hadn't specified that he was staying the night, but he hadn't said he wasn't, either. He would probably insist on sleeping on the couch if he didn't go home. He could be old-fashioned like that sometimes. She found it both quaintly endearing and annoying, depending on the day.

As they approached the house, he offered her his pullover sweater to hide her bloodstained top from Rerun until she was able to change. He pulled the sweater up and over his head, revealing a dark crimson t-shirt underneath.

Lucy accepted the offering a bit sheepishly. It wasn't like she hadn't worn his shirts before; in fact, they had done many things in the past that most friends wouldn't. He had kissed her on the cheek a few times. She called him "sweetie" both sincerely and sarcastically. And staying over at each other's places wasn't unusual.

She just assumed he had taken pity on her unrequited love before today. Thrown her a few bones because he cared about her as a friend. Maybe he really did feel the same way as her, but Lucy was reluctant to let herself fully believe just yet. There were too many walls for her to let down first, even for her favorite person in the universe.

But, she figured, if she could take anyone at their word, it would be Schroeder. He was the most honest person she knew. Trusting him about this wouldn't be easy, but she wanted to try. For his sake, if for nothing else.


When she unlocked the front door and they crossed the threshold, Rerun startled and sat up on the couch, changing the channel as fast as he could and cutting off the roar of a monster in the process.

He was probably watching some weird horror movie and thought he would get in trouble if he was caught. He did that a lot. Lucy couldn't have cared less, but it was a reflex from the rare times their mother was at home. She didn't want him watching anything she deemed unsavory.

The boy's expression changed to intrigue when he saw Schroeder enter behind Lucy. "Why are you here?"

She rolled her eyes at his wording as she kicked her shoes off. "I'm reviewing his application to be my boyfriend."

"Oh!" Rerun's eyebrows shot up. He looked like she was trying to figure out if she was joking or not; he glanced over at Schroeder, unsure. "...And how does it look?"

"It's pretty promising," she replied as she headed back to her bedroom for a change of clothes, not looking back to see either of their reactions, smiling at the sound of Schroeder scoffing.