Jughead watched as Betty grew more and more tired with the passing hours; the passing days. Fangs had gone back to Riverdale, while the rest of them stayed in Washington. Betty had tried to offer up her apartment to them as a place to stay but the thing was, there was just not enough room for everyone. Sweet Pea, Archie, and Veronica all checked into the hotel a little bit down the highway, while Jughead stayed with her. He couldn't stomach leaving her on her own. He didn't think that after her time in captivity, when she must have been so lonely, and so cold, that he could leave her to her own self right now. No, he much preferred keeping his presence in her orbit, even if it did annoy her after the first few days. ("Jughead, give me fucking space!" "Betty, fucking stop pushing me away!").

Yeah neither one of them were doing good on the front that they were overcrowding each other. Jughead knew he was pressing his presence on her and, while not thrilled by that, he also didn't care enough to try and stop. Betty had been on her own for too long. He wouldn't leave her alone when he knew, he fucking knew , that she needed him the most.

One morning, he woke up, back stiff from the couch he had been sleeping on. But that's not what woke him up. No, it was the terrified screams emanating from Betty's room that had him throwing back the covers and sprinting to her closed bedroom door. Turning the handle, he grunted as his body smacked a door that did not budge. Locked then. All was well. Tilting his shoulder down, he slammed it into the door, shoving it open.

Looking around the room, his heart cracked in half at the fists Betty was swinging while tears rolled down her cheeks. This was the first time he got to be gifted with her emotions and he hated the fact that they were showing during the throes of a terrifying nightmare. "No! You can't have me! Let me go !" Betty's voice splintered out of her, sounding raw and painful in ways Jughead couldn't ever remember hearing.

Running full tilt towards her bed, he hopped on the mattress, straddling her hips as his fingers caught her hands. Becoming manacles of safety, he gripped her gently, squeezing her wrists tenderly as he did his best to wake her up. "Betty, Betts, you're dreaming, hon. It's not real. You're in your apartment, safe and sound. He can't hurt you anymore."

The petite blonde shook and shuddered in his hold, but he made sure to keep his voice calm and soothing. He wasn't going to be the reason she woke up more terrified than she needed to be. Betty's eyes flew open and he let go of one of her wrists, ducking out of the way as her fist went flying once more, and then he curved his warm and calloused hand down her cheek. "Jug?"

"Shh," he murmured, rubbing comforting strokes against her cheekbone. "It's not real. You're not there anymore, okay?"

"Oh god," she muttered, voice shaking. He soothed his hand down the curve of her face, cupping her cheek.

"Not real," he murmured. "Can you take some deep breaths for me?"

"Y-Yeah," she uttered, trembling in his hold, and he made sure to keep himself in her line of sight. He knew how nervous she would get if he left the room – and besides, he didn't want to be too far from her just then. He needed to stay as close to Betty Cooper as humanly possible. She breathed deeply, inhaling and exhaling from her diaphragm. He kept his eyes on her, keeping a steady watch on her as he made sure her breathing regulated. When she at last - at last - breathed deeply, turning her green irises onto him as she steadied herself, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Better?" Jughead asked quietly, keeping both his voice and his ministrations soft and smooth. He wouldn't, couldn't scare her. He refused to be another man she was afraid of.

"Yeah," she exhaled a sigh, and he felt like she was safe enough for him to not hold onto her anymore. His hand was immediately cold when he let go of her wrist, and he wondered if she felt the same chill. She licked her lips, looking at him. "Sorry about that."

"Was a pretty bad nightmare," he said carefully, hoping she'd let him in.

"Yes, it was." Case closed. That was all she said on the topic. She indicated for him to give her space and he got off the bed, watching as she peeled the covers off her. There was a damp body imprint of sweat on her bed, and she sighed. "Fuck. I'll have to wash these."

His eyes were on her thin - and getting thinner - stomach. He could see her hip bones; see the curve of her ribcage as her shirt - a crop top - hugged her frame loosely. He swallowed thickly, fingers shaking as he ran them through his hair. "I'll make breakfast."

She looked at him, taking in the seriousness behind his eyes, and she nodded. "Brew the coffee strong. I have a feeling we're going to need it." With that, he walked out of her room, pulling her door shut behind himself quietly, and leaving her to her sheets and to get dressed.

Jughead walked into the kitchen. They had been to the grocery store a couple of days before and he had stocked her shelves. She didn't seem to be in much of the mood to buy her own food, but he and Ronnie tag-teamed her and bought all the essentials she needed to put some weight back on. The thin, almost decimated look to her frame left her looking gaunt and hollow. He hated it and was forcibly reminded of the summer she took Adderall to help Archie with his case. She hadn't eaten then either and looked about damn near as exhausted. He gritted his teeth. He'd just have to fix that.

XXX

Twenty minutes later they were sitting down to French Toast and fruit. He wanted to get her some bacon, too, but he didn't know how much her stomach could handle just then. So, he was grateful that she put some sugar-free syrup onto her French Toast and cut into the bread. He tried - and failed - to not stare at her out of the corner of his eye. He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't feeling apprehensive about her mental health. Of course he would be lying. "Do you want to talk about it?" Jughead asked quietly, taking a sip of his coffee.

She sighed, carding her fingers through her hair. Her blonde tresses had lost their shiny glow, and he found himself hoping it would come back. Desperately. "I don't know what there's to talk about in all honesty. It was just a nightmare."

He tsked. "It wasn't just anything, Betts. It was enough to cause you to scream."

She paused her chewing, raising her eyes to meet his, before swallowing her food. It looked rather painful. "I was screaming."

It wasn't a question and Jughead hummed. "Yes."

"The doctors told me my nights might be hard for a while," she sighed.

"Did they prescribe anything for that?" Jughead asked quietly.

She nodded. "But I didn't pick it up."

"Why?" Jughead asked.

"Because I don't need another addiction. Not after I fucked around with Adderall in high school," she said, and Jughead had to admit, he could understand that.

"I know for a fact Cheryl takes something over the counter," he commented thoughtfully. "I can have her bring it when she comes this weekend."

"She's coming this weekend?" Betty asked, looking at him closely.

He nodded. "Yeah, her and Toni."

Betty sighed. "I wish they wouldn't."

"She's your cousin and she loves you," Jughead said quietly. "Toni is one of your closest friends."

Betty laughed, harsh and dry. "I don't have friends."

His heart. It hurt. Splintered in ways that he thought was unfair. How could she still sit there and think that after everything everyone had done for her? How could she think that when they had all proved they weren't leaving her? He sighed through his nose, careful to not make it sound too exasperated. "Yes, you do. We're here, aren't we?"

She looked at him. It wasn't a sharp or cruel look in any way. She just looked tired. She laughed quietly, rubbing a hand down her face. "Fuck. I'm sorry, Jug. I'm so used to doing things on my own, that I haven't been accustomed to having friends in a long time."

"What about your fellow agents?" Jughead asked.

She thought about it. "There's Nick Peterson. He's our tech analyst and the only person I truly talked to outside of the job. We'd get Tai some nights with his husband." Thank God she informed Jughead that the man was gay or he was about to be seriously uncool about some things. Then he remembered they hadn't dated in seven years, let alone saw one another, and knew he had no room for jealousy.

"Well, that's a friend," he said comfortingly.

"I guess he is," she replied after a moment's hesitation. They finished their breakfast up and cleaned her kitchen, with Betty stacking the dishes into the dishwasher, and turning it on. She turned to him. "Now what?"

"Now, we'll get you to the office," he said. He wasn't going to sideline her, not when there was a serial killer on the loose, but he wasn't going to not watch her either. She had just survived a violent attack against her. He'd be watching her for months, maybe years, to come. She nodded grimly.

"I need to see Glen. He'll know more by now, hopefully," she said. WIth that, she gathered her things and left the apartment, leaving Jughead to tidy up the already spotless apartment.

XXX

She came home around six that evening, kicking off her shoes and sighing tiredly. Jughead had been in the kitchen, cooking dinner, when he heard her come in. He had walked into the living room and taken in her stance. She seemed tired but not defeated - at least, not as defeated as she had been that morning - and he took that as a win. "Good day?"

"Busy day," she clarified. "Glen has some new leads. Highwaymen that got pulled in over the past few days for having probable cause."

"To kill people?" Jughead checked.

"Yep," she sighed. She sniffed at the air, smiling appreciatively the next moment. "Chicken Spaghetti?"

"Figured you'd want a break from Thai food," he admitted, hands shoved into his pockets.

"I don't have a problem with Thai food," she replied, a small smile creeping up onto her face, "but a home-cooked meal sounds really good, too. I didn't know you could cook."

"I taught myself when dad moved to Toledo," he said. "Cooked for Polly and Alice sometimes; Juniper and Dagwood, too."

Betty looked surprised. "Why?"

"We didn't all cut contact with one another, Betts," he replied quietly, and she stared at him for a long moment, sadness etched into her features, before she nodded.

"That's fair," she replied. "Now, how long till dinner?"

"About ten minutes," he said, checking the clock on her mantle. "So, why don't you go get changed into something comfortable and meet me back out here when it's ready?" He knew she'd probably want a minute to herself after hearing he had had dinner with her family more than once.

"Okay," she whispered. He watched as she turned on her heel, shoulders hunched inwards, making her look so infinitely small, and she walked down the hall to her room. He released a sigh after she shut her bedroom door. Things were so fucked up at this point, he didn't know how to get them back on track. Didn't know if he could get them back on track, and that terrified Jughead the most.