Author's note: Please, please, PLEASE heed the tags and warnings. This is going to be a dark story. Nothing too overtly graphic but Jughead is DARK in this. Like murderous dark. And Betty is a smol bean who's been put through the ringer. So please, if you read this, keep an eye on TW. TW for this chapter is violence.

"Jughead, it's Betty." The way Veronica Lodge's voice twisted and shook, revolting against the words she was whispering told Jughead that whatever it was, it was bad. Before he had a chance to demand her to tell him what the fuck she was talking about, she was continuing in shaky tones. "About twenty minutes ago, a Jane Doe was dumped at the hospital entrance." Jughead winced, mind working a mile a minute. "It took me going into the operating room to identify her as Betty."

"How do you know it's her?" Jughead seethed, voice hissing venomously.

"Her tattoo on her wrist," Veronica exhaled shakily. "It had been cut pretty badly but I was still able to recognize the crown. No matter how disfigured it was."

Nonononononono.

It was a whine starting low in his throat, pitiful and degrading. One that he had no control over. He knew he couldn't stomach to hear the rest without being near his light; his love. "I'll be there in ten."

"Jug," Veronica said quietly, causing the hardened Serpent to pause. "It's bad. It's really bad."

"Don't fucking tell me that, Ronnie," Jughead croaked, feeling as if his stomach was bottoming out. He hung up on her, barking for his men. "Sweet Pea! Joaquin. We need to move! Betty's just been identified at the hospital."

The south door of the room he sat in flew open and in ran Joaquin, Sweet Pea, and Toni. "What the fuck do you mean 'identified'?" This was Sweet Pea and Jughead would say his friend was angry if there wasn't an underlining tone of petrification to his voice.

"R-Ronnie just called," Jughead exhaled. "A Jane Doe was dumped in front of the hospital twenty minutes ago. Ronnie recognized her as Betts by the crown tattoo on her wrist."

"Fuck," Joaquin paled, and then they were all sprinting for their bikes. Jughead tore out of the parking lot of the Wyrm, speeding down the highway as he raced against the clock to reach the hospital, the only thought on a continuous loop in his mind was, "not her."

XXX

They reached the hospital in record time and Jughead flung his helmet from his head, not caring where it landed. The only reason he wore was because Betty had chewed his ass out once when she found out he didn't. He hadn't made the same mistake twice. Running against the pavement, feet slapping heavily against the concrete, they burst into the hospital, all shouting, to varying degrees, a name. Her name.

Ronnie appeared in her scrubs just then, blood tinting her jacket. She looked exhausted and like she'd fall down at any moment. "Jughead."

"Ron, who's blood is this?" Jughead whispered, mortified at the extent of it.

"…Betty's," she admitted.

Nononononononononono. "Don't fucking tell me that, Veronica!"

"Jughead! Jug! Juggie, listen to me," Veronica snapped, pulling him around to face her square on. "Betty is alive. She is alive and hurting. She needs you right now."

A hand clasped down onto his shoulder, sturdy and strong, and Jughead didn't have to look to know it was Sweet Pea. The taller was speaking in hushed tones the next moment. "Who dropped her off."

"Not someone who cares about her," Veronica murmured. "She was flipped onto her stomach, bleeding from several – several knife wounds."

Fucking shit.

Jughead wanted to murder someone, peeling back their skin, and tearing them for all they were worth. Sweet Pea hissed and Joaquin growled underneath his breath. It was Toni who spoke. "I'm assuming she's in surgery?"

"Yes," Veronica said. "I was taken off the procedure because she's my best friend. I said I'd inform family."

Jughead knew she called them family not only because Betty was the closest thing he had to family, but because the doctor wouldn't answer any of their questions unless Ronnie vouched for them. "Thanks." His voice sounded dead even to his own ears, an echo of who he once was. "Who do you think is good for this?"

"I know exactly who's good for it," Veronica muttered, turning to look away from Jughead.

He looked at her intently. "Who? Veronica, fucking who?"

"Penny and Malachi," she murmured hoarsely. "Probably under the orders of – "

"Your dad," Jughead said, tone cold. He ran a hand down his face. He wanted nothing more than to go put a bullet in each of their body parts, but Jughead had always been a logical man. He thought with his head and not with his heart, which is why he was such a good leader to his gang. Hiram would be dealt with accordingly but first – "How long will she be in surgery?"

"There's no telling with these types of operations but my guess is several hours."

Jughead and his crew threw themselves down to wait in chairs and, deciding she needed to be with them, Ronnie sat down next to Sweet Pea, going to hold his hand.

XXX

The hours passed slowly, minute hands inching to the hour, hours crawling by like snails. Jughead wanted to storm the operating room and demand to know what the fuck was going on but each time he tried, Sweet Pea and Joaquin hauled him back down to his seat. He supposed they handled a crisis better than he did.

At last, at long last, a doctor covered in scrubs and blood stepped up to them. "Doctor Lodge."

Veronica stood to her feet, as did everyone else. "How is she?"

"Ms. Cooper lost an extreme amount of blood from all the stab wounds, but we did two transfusions and managed to save what we could. She has a broken wrist, three cracked ribs, a collapsed lung, and a concussion."

Fuck.

"Is she awake?" Jughead demanded hoarsely, tears obscuring his eyes.

"She's under some pretty heavy anesthesia right now but she'll wake up in about an hour," the doctor replied. He looked at Jughead. "I'm Dr. Carmicheal, the presiding surgeon on Ms. Cooper's case. I'm assuming you're Mr. Jones?"

Jughead forced himself to swallow back bile as he nodded. "J-Jughead is fine."

"You should go sit with her, Jughead," Dr. Carmichael placed a hand on his shoulder and then he was leading him to her room.

Jughead didn't know what to expect except the worst.

And the worst he did expect.