3 Days Post Awakening; March 19, 2019
Betty slept a lot. That was Sweet Pea's analysis. Sure, he wasn't a doctor, so it wasn't the best of conclusions, but it was the only one he knew how to make. He was pretty sure Brad was shutting him out of the important shit, just to annoy him. Either that, or he was a totally fake doctor in it for the chicks.
In his head, Sweet Pea imagined wild scenarios where Brad lied to a girl in this post-apocalyptic world that he had his MD, and then it just snowballed, and now here they were at the end of time, and he was just making it up as he went along.
Yeah, Sweet Pea liked that answer, because at least on some part, it would mean that Betty sleeping so much and seeming so out of it was just because Brad was someone who should get his fake license taken away, not because it was out of their hands.
Sweet Pea knew he was hardly in control of anything lately, but he'd fucking fight fate if they were going to try to take Betty away again.
Yet, in the back of his mind, he knew this to be illogical. He knew he couldn't fight fate. He knew Brad was actually a real-live doctor. He knew that they were doing all anyone could. He knew that Betty's ability to heal was not based on anything he could do...and that's what sucked the most.
He tried to be next to her as often as he could. To make sure nothing tore of went wrong, he'd been gently (as gently as Brad knew how) suggested to sleep in a different bed than her. He'd dragged an armchair sofa right next to her, and though it was about as comfortable as sleeping on a box of rocks covered in a semi-itchy blanket, no one was going to hear a peep out of him.
So, at least, when Betty was unconscious, he was by her side.
When she was awake, he was less so, though not by any choice of his own.
He knew that they should properly, really, seriously talk about their confessions to each other and what it meant going forward, but Betty was always yawning and had bags under her eyes and just seemed so weak, that it didn't seem like the time or place.
Plus, if Betty was awake, Jellybean was basically glued to her side.
And fine, whatever, he got it. The kid probably had some trauma regarding losing people, and so it made sense she clung to Betty so desperately, unwilling to spare a moment away from her.
Sweet Pea didn't want to be that asshole; the one that kicked a kid in need out and told her to scram...but heck. He really wanted to.
He wanted a moment alone with her, just to try to sort through what she'd told him and what he felt. Each passing day that this conversation didn't happen weighed upon him uncomfortably, like a thorn lodged in his skin, becoming more irritated each day. An itch he needed to scratch.
One day, he told himself as Jellybean talked a mile a minute about her former middle-school class, and a math teacher that had been downright villainous, and Betty nodded with interest and bright smiles.
Sigh. One day soon.
5 Days Post Awakening/ March 21, 2019
The downstairs basement, which up until now had been comprised of a storage area, Sweet Pea's music hall, and not much else, was now taken over by a million papers.
It seemed weird and lucky that there would be so much information nicely written down on something physical, and not like a computer with eight passcodes, but then again, Octavia had flipped to see an iPod. No one uses technology much anymore.
And heck, the Predators were nothing if not creepily organized.
Octavia had procured a map. Which is to say, she found it in Sweet Pea's stock bin somewhere. And maybe part of him had reservations about her marking it up, but then again, the hell was he going to use it for? To one day point to the children born here and say 'yessiree, that's what the world used to look like' in a creaky, old man's voice? So yeah, cool, whatever. He was sure there were more maps around if he really was so inclined to use one.
He felt like he didn't understand much of it. Octavia's handwriting was atrocious, and she used a strange shorthand, so half the time he wasn't sure if he was staring at squiggles that were supposed to be letters or symbols. She had spread out all of the 'case files' in a huge semi-circle on the ground, trying to map locations, plans, information...she was scheming. It was what she was doing.
At first, Sweet Pea had been very much against letting Jellybean help the cause. She didn't need to think about that horrid place more than she likely did, and she sure as heck didn't need to read some of those notes.
Sweet Pea helped on occasion. Some of the notes on the girls were just shy of hardcore porn. Yuck.
But Jellybean was restless, and there wasn't much for her to do, and kids needed constant attention, he'd figured out. So, reluctantly, after Betty had encouraged it during one of her few waking hours, he let her help Octavia. It kept her busy for long periods of time.
There was an agreement that she could ONLY read the first page, and nothing more. The stuff past the basic rundown is where the content got 'not-safe-for-work' type of shit.
Sweet Pea was sure that she'd seen some things that had aged her. Sometimes, he saw it in Jellybean's eyes. And he wasn't just talking about the apocalypse, but about the experience with the Predators. He knew that as much as he was trying to shelter her, it was already in her mind. She could connect the dots. She knew what happened to those unlucky girls sold at auction.
She wasn't stupid.
Sweet Pea wondered if he should try to find a psychology book on his next run. The girl probably needed to talk to someone about this, and not just a basic someone. A learned someone. Like a therapist. Which, oops, guess they were in pretty short supply of.
But he digressed. He let her help because at least she felt needed. He understood that. Everyone needed to feel like they had something to give.
Octavia was as committed to this cause as much as Sweet Pea was committed to being by Betty's side. He would have figured Brad to be equally curious, but it's like he went the other way. He didn't want to know, not really, what happened to his wife because he might have to actually consider she could be dead. If he didn't, he could just live with that unknown. The Schrodinger's Cat of her heartbeat, and somehow, that was almost a kindness for most.
Sweet Pea had gleaned enough from the way he talked that he 100% thought his wife was dead.
Perhaps he was like Betty, who had such a sixth sense about those sorts of things, and that in his bones he knew she was gone. Maybe he didn't want to get his hopes up. Maybe he knew more than he felt like he could tell over-zealous Octavia, who forged through the notes without fail.
Maybe, maybe, maybe a thousand different reasons. Sweet Pea wasn't sure. Brad was not one to share feelings.
But then again, while Octavia was also devoted, she was pragmatic. She didn't think that all of these women would be alive. She had made references that she figured some would have died from the world they lived in- walkers, hunger, cold, heat, and whatever have you - and some others would have died a worse fate. Some will have no doubt been killed, accidental or not, but the vicious men that bought them. Some might have died trying to escape.
No, she very well knew that though it seemed there were hundreds of women pin-pointed on that map, perhaps, they'd be pleased if they even rescued and found a fourth of them.
It was a noble task. Far nobler than Sweet Pea was.
He knew he probably could do good by going out with them. That he would get to kill some seriously shitty people that shouldn't have survived the apocalypse (if he wasn't an atheist, he was now) and make his life have meaning.
But why would he leave? He had everything, almost, within his grasp.
A house. A girl that loved him. A girl that he loved. These two events of love happening at the same time, which in itself, was almost miraculous to imagine. He had food, entertainment, and all the time in the literal world.
All things he never could have even dreamed about if he stayed in his own life.
So, when Brad asked and Sweet Pea didn't say yes, Brad grimaced, as though he knew full well what Sweets was going to say.
And maybe he'd asked out of respect. But he wasn't surprised, and either was Octavia.
They seemed okay with this choice. Respectable, and perhaps as selfish as it was.
You can't ask a snake to change. You can ask them to shed their coat; hang it up and take on a domesticated, pastoral life. But you cannot ask a snake to suddenly change color and be better than before.
7 Days Post Awakening / March 23rd, 2019
One week. One maddening week.
Seven days. 168 hours. 10080 minutes. 604,800 seconds.
And yeah, Sweet Pea had gone and found a calculator specifically to do the math to figure out how long he'd been waiting for Betty to really and truly get better.
Brad would call him someone 'looking for hurt'. Probably true.
Octavia would tell him he needed to find a different hobby. Also true.
And Jelly? If she knew he'd sat down at the kitchen table with the old calculator to write out those numbers, as though that would make him feel better and not as small as a pin dropped into the sea…well, she might not say anything.
She might just look at him with pity.
That would be the worst.
Jelly should be pitied. She'd really gone through hell, things kids shouldn't have to go through.
This one imagined scenario was enough to make him scrap the paper and hide the calculator.
Brad said a bunch of doctorish things to him. Things and words he was sure weren't true, but heck, no one else here knew more. The gist of it was that she was improving. Even if Sweet Pea couldn't tell himself, Brad was sure she'd wake up.
He wished that would soothe him.
It led to his biggest fear, though. The one that ate him away at night and left him without any rest.
What if she just…didn't? She slipped into this state, so what if she could just slip backward? Regress and die? And what if he was sleeping while she did so?
Every day he felt like it was a balancing act. He knew she was fighting. Betty Cooper fought. She was not going into this accepting death.
"Keep fucking fighting, please." He whispered to her when she went back to sleep, a task as simple as reaching for a water glass tiring her out, "Please."
13 Days Post Waking/ March 29th, 2019
"I think we're okay. How do you feel Betty?" Brad asked, flashing a light in her eyes.
"Annoyed there's a light in my eyes. I also have more energy than usual and I'm starved."
Brad preened, "Yep, she should recover quicker now. We're out of the woods."
Octavia clapped and Jelly whooped, but Sweet Pea was not so quick to convince.
"You're sure? Sure-sure?"
"In what way?" Brad asked, aggravated.
"It's not like that…moment they talk about in TV shows. How someone who was at death will have this burst of energy and then just die?"
Brad shrugged, "Possibly." Octavia elbowed him, "Ack! He asked!"
"No, I want to know too," Betty raised a finger from the bed, "How can we tell?"
"We can't." Brad said, nonplussed "Either you live through the week or you die. I think it's in some greater being's hands now."
"Great. Awesome. So impressive," Sweet Pea said sarcastically, crossing his arms.
"I have done my part. Now? Now I'm going to go and congratulate myself by eating a Twinkie and sleeping for a day." Brad announced, nodding to Betty, "Hope you end up sticking around."
Betty guffawed, "Uhm, yeah. Me too."
At once, Jelly was clambering all over her bed, and Sweet Pea was about to let it go until Octavia pulled Jellybean back.
"Hey, we were right in the middle of that map. Don't wanna get too distracted, hmm?" She said kindly, winking at Sweet Pea.
"Oh, yeah. Well, can Betty come to see it?" Jellybean asked, full of childish excitement.
"Later. Maybe in a day or so. I just need to…rest." Betty said, anxious to get Sweet Pea alone too.
"Okay! I'll bring you your food for dinner and I can tell you all about it."
Betty smiled at her, "I can't wait."
As Jellybean obediently followed Octavia, Betty sniffled.
"God, she looks so much like Jughead. I just didn't have time to really look at her. I mean, their voices are a bit different, but she just…"
"Yeah. It's sorta weird." Sweet Pea agreed. Betty scooted over to give him room to settle under the covers with her. They instinctively found a position that suited them both well, pressed against each other, neither willing to let the other go for even a second.
"It's not weird. It's comforting."
"It's weird," Sweet Pea insisted, "When you have someone next to you at two A.M and you wonder when did Jughead shrink before you remember it's the end of the world."
"I think Jug would be so relieved she ended up here," Betty said.
Sweet Pea dropped his voice, "Yeah. I think so." He sighed, "Found yourself a lot in your memories?"
"Yeah. Jug. Archie. Veronica. They saved me," Betty whispered, "It sounds insane, I know, but they kept me alive. Telling me to drink water, even if it was gross. Telling me to put pressure on wounds. Telling me to stay awake. Maybe it was a product of my mind going, but they were there. As real as this," She said pressing her hand to his beating heart.
"I wish my friends came to me before I did stupid shit," Sweet Pea laughed, "Toni jumping out and shaking a finger at me would for sure make me second guess whatever I was about to do."
He paused, really mulling over her words, "Just those three?" He asked carefully.
"Yes." Betty swallowed, "Not you. I was sure you were dead. The logic doesn't hold because I'm pretty sure all those friends of mine are dead too, but you…I really didn't think I'd ever see you again," She whispered, eyes filling with tears.
"Hey, hey, I'm still here. I'm right here."
"Say it again," Betty asked, no, demanded, "I forgot your voice. I couldn't remember it. It was just blocked from me. Maybe my mind thought it would be too painful, but you were just…gone."
"I have no intention of leaving ever again," Sweet Pea assured her with a harrumph, "I will stay in the confines of this house for the rest of my god-given life if I must, and hell, I won't complain."
Betty tilted her head, fingers tracing over the scar on his neck, probably wondering how they got so lucky he survived. Stupid people. That was a better answer than anything, and most realistic. Super stupid people trying to kill.
"Think I need another tattoo to cover this scar?" He asked with a wry grin, trying to make her laugh, "I'm thinking some other terrifying animal. Maybe a shrew. Did you know that shrews are metal AF? They'll eat their own kind just to-,"
"I…couldn't remember your voice," Betty repeated again, her voice starting to fray and quiver.
"I'm here, I'm here. I'll say anything you want me to," He whispered to her.
"But that's not…what if I can't? What if something else like this occurs and you're gone? Or what if you die from something stupid, like the flu, and I'm just longing to hear you forever or-,"
Sweet Pea reached for Betty's phone. He'd never had to use this function on his phone before, but managed to find the 'Memo' app fairly easily. He shushed her when she began to question what he was doing.
"This is Sweet Pea, erm, Jordan Peabody coming to you live from the end of the world. It's March? I think? Ah, who cares at the end of the line. It's about a year into this, ain't getting any better. But it's okay. That's all okay. I'm holed up here in Wisconsin with the most beautiful gal, Betty Cooper, who is one tough cookie. Seriously. Serial killers are nothing to her, and neither are the walking dead. We have a pretty good life here, and well, I'm just doing this so that Betty can hear my voice whenever she needs it. Just my voice, reminding her, that gosh…I really, really love this girl." Sweet Pea whispered the end of it, unsure what more to add after that, "So, uhm, yeah! Let us have a long and very happy life."
He clicked the save button and then, just in case she thought it was a trick. She replayed it and a sense of relief washed over her. Then she repeated it again, and again. And he realized she was rewinding to a particular place.
"Betts." He said, stopping her trip down into the memories of four minutes ago, "I am indeed what some may call 'in the flesh', meaning, I can just repeat that phrase as many times as you want me to."
"It just seems so unreal. I've had the biggest crush on you for, well, forever," She said, her face bright red.
"Oh?"
"Stupid long time. Stupid, stupid long time."
"Why did you never…say anything?" Sweet Pea asked, his mouth dry. He wasn't angry, but he did feel like angry-laughing.
Would it have changed anything? He wasn't sure, but it would have been nice to know, he decided.
"Because if you didn't feel the same…we're at the end of time. It would have sucked to know that I had unrequited feelings. How would we ever…go back to normal?"
"I guess, but well, how could you not tell? That I liked you?"
"So hey, you didn't say anything either." Betty poked him.
"I have a very good reason," Sweet Pea said. He pulled out the heart-breaking memory from his mind and recounted the kiss after the wine and rain night, and he saw Betty turn paler and paler as he continued.
"And I believe you finished with a very loud 'oh thank god', in responses to the question of whether we had or had not slept together. So." He coughed uneasily and looked away. Was it great they'd made it here? Totally. Did he like dredging up that memory? Naw, not really.
"I'm an idiot! I didn't think you heard. I was glad that we hadn't because I didn't want our first time to be…drunk and I was blacked out and wouldn't have recalled a single thing. It was a relief that when we did have our first time, I'd recall what it felt like."
"You don't have to mend my heart. I have you now," Sweet Pea sighed, honored she'd stretch the truth like that.
"I'm seriously not lying. I liked you far sooner than I should have, considering how much I thought I was in love with Jughead. From early on, in the van, after you told me your name…I felt my heart thud just a bit then, and I was thinking I was a terrible person to just…like you so fast, so easily. So yeah, I hid it." She kissed his cheeks, "But Jughead is a ghost in my mind and I don't think he'd want me to be unhappy. And I've been trying to find a way to figure it out, and I guess we're…there." She laughed a bit.
"I could have been having awesome sex with you since September?" Sweet Pea groaned, "That hurts, that's what really does."
"This is what you glean from that entire conversation?"
"I mean, I'm still a young-blooded man," Sweet Pea shrugged, not as embarrassed as he was pretending to me, "And you gotta admit. That was some good sex. Don't tell me girls aren't as horny as guys, I simply don't believe it."
Betty swallowed, "I'm not denying that," She said, offering a tentative grin.
She leaned in to kiss him and while Sweet Pea was all for romantics, he couldn't help but feel a thrill run up his spine when she began to deepen it to something more.
He responded in kind, sucking on her bottom lip as his hands tentatively ran up her sides until they were at her breasts, which he cupped carefully.
"Jordan, I'm not made of glass," Betty said, her breath catching as she more forcefully pressed his hands down.
"Okay," Sweet Pea said, thinking Betty knew her own limits.
He was still careful. He knew they weren't going to be having wild, mosh-pit, raving sex anytime soon, but he sort of let up his protective instincts because she seemed to want him to. Until he adjusted her just so and-
"Ow," Betty gave a sharp hiss and intake of breath, "Maybe I am."
Sweet Pea immediately backed up on the bed, "Hey, look. Let's just be horny teenagers for a bit. Cuddle, light humping, the works," He said, "We don't have to get rated R,"
"Jellybean," Betty said, pushing through her wince.
"What about her?"
"We've just basically adopted a very need, and understandably traumatized pre-teen. Octavia…" She frowned, trying to recall the surly girls' name, "Has her occupied. Because it seems otherwise she's attached to my hip. So…"
"Ah, right," Sweet Pea gave a quiet laugh, "Who knows when we'll get this chance again?"
"So fuck me, babe…" Betty considered her phrasing for a second, "I mean, fuck me like I'm a super-hot but very breakable and priceless family heirloom."
"You're priceless to me, babe," Sweet Pea said, leaning in for a kiss.
"Aww, how sweet. Now take your pants off," Betty urged, shimmying hers off, "This is going to feel like teenager sex."
"Where's the weirdest place you've done it?" Sweet Pea asked as he helped her take her bra off, "Because teenagers have to get real creative. I think mine was-,"
"Is this really the time?" Betty said as she discarded her bra. Sweet Pea was suddenly distracted by her chest out in the open.
"No, no, you're right," He said, taking off his last piece of clothing still remaining- his socks- as Betty carefully set her underwear on the bedside table.
"I don't want to lose it," She huffed as Sweet Pea gave her a judging look.
"I remember when you used to walk around with no underwear on," Sweet Pea said, his fingers traveling down between her legs.
"We," Betty gasped as he found the spot that made her moan, "Have guests now."
"Shhh…" Sweet Pea placed a cheeky hand over her mouth, "We don't want to wake Brad. If he thinks you're in pain, like a good doctor he'll come rushing in."
"Brad's off in dream-land," Betty argued, though tried to keep her whimpers quieter.
"Doctor spidey senses," Sweet Pea argued.
"He'd figure out what was going on. He seems like he's been around the block once or twice," Betty said, reaching down to take Sweet Pea in her hands and began to pump up and down, causing him to swear out loud.
"Quiet, dear," She teased back.
"Dunno if I can," Sweet Pea said, pressing his forehead against hers, "Feels so good," He muttered. She nodded in agreement.
"Let's actually try to make something happen, hmm?"
"Let me know if it hurts. At all. We're not masochists today, Betty," He said, "Promise." He demanded in a sharp, worried tone,
Betty, having almost somehow forgotten Dark Betty and the truths she let Sweet Pea know about how the pain was better than the pleasure, couldn't imagine wanting to bring her out at all with him. So it was easy to lean up and kiss him and smile.
"Cross my heart sort of promise."
In the aftermath, with their clothes back on in what Sweet Pea considered presentable (and so he told Betty) they lay waiting for someone to barge in.
"I think we gotta talk." Betty began.
"Oh, shit. The worst sentence in the universe," Sweet Pea groaned, "Well, it was great while it lasted."
"I'm not breaking up with you, idiot," Betty rolled her eyes, but she was grinning, "You're stuck with me. I want to talk about the note."
Sweet Pea's eyebrows furrowed. He tilted his head, trying to figure out what she was…
"Oh, the post-it? From…was that the day I got bit?" He said, lifting his hand. The scar on his hand was still fresh-looking. He glared at it. This little raccoon bastard was what started all this. He was not one for needless animal violence, but the ways he wanted to kill this raccoon were unspeakable.
"Yeah, that one. We need to stop using post-its. It never ends well," She said, thinking of the note she left him when she tried to leave him in the hospital.
"You still got that post-it from V?" Sweet Pea whispered, trying to guess what her tone indicated.
"Yeah," Betty's reply was curt, "Big fat liar it makes her," She said, sniffling, "Proves my point, huh?"
"I suppose. We're at the end of the world. I guess good old conversation shouldn't be out of the picture."
"Right. So. You said, and I quote 'Thought I'd let you sleep. Last night was fantastic. Let's talk later, Jordan.'" Betty recited, "What the heck was the 'let's talk later' bit? Like we were going to casually run into each other at a coffee shop downtown?" She asked with a grin.
"Okay, not my finest phrasing. I mean, how do you convey, 'I have this big fash crush on you and I think I love you' in a post-it note?" He laughed, "I guess that was it. Just a big declaration and all and then some."
Betty tilted her head, "Some?"
"What it meant. I didn't think you felt the same, so, I thought we'd have to navigate that. But it's different now. More things to navigate. To figure out."
"Like what? Has anything actually changed, other than that we can jump each other's bones and not have guilt about it?" She asked.
"No, maybe not. Or maybe yes," He gulped a bit, "I think those are conversations for another day, though."
"Sweets, we just went over this." Betty sighed, "Conversations for now."
"Well, I mean, I'll let you think on them. Like…what if birth control runs out or a condom breaks? And what happens if one of us dies? Or what you're looking for out of a serious relationship," He swallowed thickly, "That sort of stuff."
Betty was quiet.
"Oh, heavy stuff."
Sweet Pea gave a half-grunt, wincing.
"So maybe not…right now-right now answers, or conversations," Her forehead was knitted and he could already tell she was trying to form the replies to all of these just right, or maybe trying to figure out what he'd want, or gosh, even trying to determine what she would want.
"Think on it," Sweet Pea said, nuzzling into her hair, "And we'll talk whenever you have answers."
"Do you?" Betty asked, her voice starting to sound a bit dry, "Have answers?"
"No," Sweet Pea said honestly, even if he was the one to bring them up, "Not entirely. And some depend on what you want. I can be a reasonable guy in relationships. I dunno. There's no pressure, though."
Betty gave a hard snort, "Right. No pressure with these sorts of questions at all."
The door creaked open, alerting them to the end of their time to reconnect alone.
"What questions?" Jelly asked, taking it upon herself to come and sit cross-legged in one of the chairs in the room. Octavia was three steps behind, shooting a very apologetic but also 'what can you do' sort of look, and then Brad was a moment later.
"Questions?" He repeated with a yawn.
"What happened to sleeping like the dead?"
Brad narrowed his eyes, face swiveling and pausing on Jelly for just a second, and Sweet Pea was sure he was going to have to have a conversation with Brad about 'not upsetting or blaming the children', because yeah, it was probably Jelly's thumping around that woke him. But his face softened and at the last moment, he just shrugged.
"There will be plenty of time for sleep when a walker gets a bite in on me. Now, I hear there might be some gossip?" He asked with a grin.
"No, no gossip. Really boring questions. Nothing you'd find exciting. Like…" Betty looked helplessly at Sweet Pea.
"What sort of pads does she wear. I should know it as her partner." Sweet Pea covered.
Jelly made a face.
"Yuck," She said, getting up and leaving promptly.
"Eww, man," Brad said, shaking his head.
"You're a doctor," Octavia rolled her eyes, "It's like men have never interacted with women ever. Good on you, Sweet Pea," She said, fist-bumping.
"Yeah, he's a keeper," Betty said with a relieved sigh. She knew that keeping their relationship private would be different now with others around, and she even knew that some semblance of the perfect, pastoral life she'd lived alone with Sweet Pea had come and passed.
But still…the laughter floating through the house…she maybe liked this better.
April 2nd, 2019
One of the questions to Sweet Pea's queries would sort itself out.
Five days later - and he had to consider it was a miracle this hadn't come up sooner, and honestly, he'd almost forgotten about this white lie he'd told - is when he was reminded of a phrase he'd uttered in searching for Betty.
And reiterated a few times.
He was sort of fuzzy on who knew and who didn't, which happened when one was lying, but also happened when one was in a berzerker-rage to find a missing lover, he argued with himself.
He'd told Illian the truth. He didn't think Octavia had been there.
He'd mentioned it to Betty while she was unconscious, but she hadn't really replied.
And then, poof, the phrase in question had been jettisoned out of his mind, never to be thought of again, until now.
Octavia was telling Betty the whole story of how they'd found her, and how Sweet Pea had been tireless to save her. Brad was also there, adding in a bit whenever needed. Jelly sat near them, but she was drawing and tuning a lot out. It painted him as quite the knight in shining armor, though Betty had nearly done everything to get out herself.
"And it was hecking impressive you even managed that," Octavia was very pleased with Betty, and if she stuck around, Sweet Pea knew they might end up being good friends. They both had a particular brand of stubbornness.
But anyway, she had to get a long way to the beginning, by explaining how she ended up out there, and only just was she getting to Sweet Pea stumbling into camp, throat bleeding, two steps from death.
"And all he cared about, all he wanted to utter, were two words… 'my wife'." Octavia paused to smile warmly at Betty.
Betty, halfway through a BLT sandwich, raised an eyebrow at Sweet Pea.
"My wife, huh?" She repeated.
Ack, yeah.
He wished he could take a remote and pause time to catch Betty up that they were supposed to be…married.
He hoped the company would take it as a cute married couple little, 'huh, you idiot, you nearly died' sort of way. Brad did because he winked at Betty.
"I think half the girls in the camp fell in love with your husband that right there day!" He snorted, raising his glass.
"Husband," Betty repeated, seeming pleased to say it out loud.
He should have known, though. He should have known that Octavia was far too smart.
"You're not actually married, are you?" She asked with narrowed eyes.
"Well, it's not like there are priests around," Sweet Pea huffed, hoping Betty would just play along with it and they could sort it later. He was serious about it. Wanting to marry her. But he'd just exchanged 'I-love-yous' and it seemed a bit premature, or maybe it would be to her. So he was waiting to see what she said first. Maybe Betty Cooper was too pragmatic and didn't even believe in marriage in the real world, much less an apocalyptic one?
"No…you're not as in…" Octavia looked strangely tickled by this, "Betty has no idea what you're talking about! Wow." She snorted, almost falling back in her chair, "This is better than cable."
"It came out!" Sweet Pea groaned, hoping this didn't put him in deep shit with his girlfriend, "I said you were and it just sounded right. But I mean…what…what else is there?" He wasn't one who thought he'd be spilling his guts in front of everyone here, but he supposed he dug himself into this one. Betty was silently waiting for an explanation. She didn't look mad, just curious.
"I could call you my girlfriend, but I think we both know it's more. And 'partner' just doesn't seem right either? It's the end-of-days. I'm right. There are no priests and I think if you're really committed, and you really love someone, you should just be able to call 'em your wife. We already got the house, so, yeah. Sue me," He muttered, sinking lower in his chair, wishing he'd had the forethought to press this issue earlier.
Betty was silent for a very, very long time. A worryingly long time.
Then, she took another bite of the sandwich, as though not in this serious conversation.
"I'd be your wife," She said casually.
"As in…eventually?"
Betty shrugged, "Now, tomorrow, a year…it's all the same, isn't it?"
"Oh, god, your proposal sucks, Sweet Pea!" Octavia threw up her hands, "You need to re-do it! Romantically! I thought you would have released a thousand butterflies when you asked her. This is just disappointing."
"Aye, I agree," Brad raised his hand.
"How did propose, Mr. Grump?" Sweet Pea said, "Or are you really married?"
"Oh, I honestly am. But it was actually an arranged marriage by our parents. No worries on either end. We ended up liking each other, thankfully, but my proposal was a written contract." Brad said with a smirk, "But we're not talking about mine, we're talking about yours," He said, waving at Sweet Pea and Betty.
"Our life is not your entertainment," Sweet Pea said with a sharp edge.
"You could be a bit more formal with it. Most traditions are moot, but she is right about that one," Betty said with a coy smile.
"Wait, you're not actually married yet?" Jelly asked, just catching on to the conversation.
"No, sorry to burst your bubble too," Sweet Pea gave a long sigh.
Jellybean was frantically shaking her head, "Do you know what this means now?" She asked, vibrating with excitement, hardly upset at all.
"Erm...I apparently suck at proposals?"
Jellybens' reply was so full of joy, her eyes glimmering and twinkling enough to think that she was very close to looking like a starry-eyed cartoon character.
"No! You two get to have a wedding now! I get to go to a wedding! Oh! I call flower-girl!"