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Chapter Text

Betty Cooper had known since before she could even remember that she wanted to marry Archie Andrews. After their very first kiss she hadn’t a doubt her mind, and she had intended to carry that with her for the rest of her life. Of course, they were only children back then. Archie had distanced himself for many years during high school, keeping Betty as a close friend but never wanting to pursue anything more, but Betty had always known deep down that they were meant to be together and that eventually Archie would realise that too. At least, that was what she had thought up until she was sixteen.

During that school year, things had happened and things had changed; things that she had repressed ever since. She had never told Archie that she wasn’t really in love with him back then, she’d realised pretty early on that it was just the idea of him that she was so desperately drawn to, but it had been ten years since that night on her doorstep. She knew that she was in love with him for real this time. She was, most definitely. The boy with the red hair who had stolen her heart from the day they’d met. The boy that she was going to marry. Why wouldn’t she be?

Applying a thin layer of pale pink gloss across her lips, she stared vacantly at the person looking back at her. She didn’t want to think about the past today. She’d spent way too long stuck there, and now it was time to move forward. It was time to be Betty Andrews.

“Well,” she muttered. “You did it, Betty. You finally got what you always wanted.” She smiled, unable to look herself in the eyes as she smoothed down her perfectly slicked back ponytail. The very essence of Betty Cooper. The Betty Cooper that she had always supposed to have been. In fact, she’d been smiling almost non-stop for the past four years. After having graduated from college, she had spent the majority of her time keeping as busy as she possibly could. If she wasn’t writing for The Register, she was at home helping Polly look after the twins, or working part time at Pop’s for some extra cash. As life piled up on top of her, she couldn’t help but grow closer to Archie.

He had finally admitted his feelings for her at graduation just moments after everyone had thrown their caps in the air amidst a mixture of cheering and crying. He had taken her aside and hoped to sweep her off her feet like they’d always imagined when they were kids. She would’ve been lying if she’d have said she had felt nothing, but it was too soon back then. She wasn’t ready for anything. She still wasn’t sure if she was ready now, eight years on, and the smiling was starting to grow painful. The truth was that Archie had provided her with a sense of safety and comfort and familiarity, and she was twenty-six years old now. She couldn’t have waited around forever. She had taken four years to recover after what had happened, and then spent the following four with Archie, up until this very day. The day she never thought would come. Their wedding day. She forced herself to look back up, tightening her ponytail as she did so.

“Knock knock,” a familiar voice chimed as Betty turned her head to see her mother, Alice Cooper, stood in the doorway. “Are you almost ready, sweetheart?”

“Almost,” she replied, returning her gaze to her reflection and shifting slightly in her seat. She looked down at her engagement ring, soon to be paired with the wedding ring that she had wanted ever since she was a little girl. Everything was so perfect. Just like her. The perfect girl next door and the perfect boy next door joining together to make the perfect little family. This was how it was always supposed to be.

Alice’s smile faded slightly, sensing something was off. She approached her daughter and carefully put a hand on her shoulder. “Is everything ok?”

Betty looked down, feeling something familiar burning up inside of her, trying so desperately to contain it. She burrowed her fingernails into the exact same spot, the exact same scars, scars that nobody knew about. Nobody, except one. She pushed even harder, using all of her force to bury the memory. Almost instantly, and as if nothing had happened, she brought herself back.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Alice stared at her daughter for a moment, unable to see anything other than the image of herself all of those years ago waiting to marry Hal. For some reason, it brought on an overwhelming feeling of deja vu. Betty had always been good at hiding how she felt, but Alice knew that she had never been the same since what had happened all of those years ago; she knew it better than anyone. As she removed her hand, she considered stroking her hair but changed her mind at the last minute. Instead, she looked towards the ground and swallowed.

“He’s not here,” she said, keeping her voice low and cautious. Betty flinched, unable to catch her breath for a brief moment.

“Who?”

Alice didn’t move, keeping her eyes firmly on the floor, her voice now just a whisper.

“You know who.”

Without another word, Betty was standing up and smoothing down her dress as she brushed her cheek to wipe away the slightest remain of a tear. Alice had jumped at the sudden movement.

“I’m ready now,” she announced, looking up to meet her mother’s eyes for just a second. There was something there; a knowing. Breaking away, afraid of revealing too much, she looked over to see her father, Hal Cooper, who was now stood in the doorway with an expression of pride spread across his face.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Betty to take.

She took it quite willingly, making a point not to look at her mother again as she did so. Observing the almost empty room, an intense feeling of loneliness began to pour over her. Just down the hall there were hundreds of people waiting for her, but the silence was deafening.

“Have you seen Veronica?”

His smile faltered. “Yes, she’s inside with the others,” he replied, refusing to look her in the eye. So much had happened. So much that nobody dared speak about anymore. It felt like everyone had been treading on thin ice for the past eight years, and that feeling seemed to never fully disappear, no matter how much they had all wanted it to.

“I’m so glad she came,” Betty replied. “Even after- you know…”

“Betty,” Hal snapped. “This isn’t the time or the place to rake up the past. Please.”

There were a few moments of silence as they proceeded to walk down the hallway, the muffled sound of chatter growing closer and closer. All of a sudden, Betty’s head was spinning. She had tried so hard not to think, but now everything that she had been blocking out was slowly creeping its way back in. She started to replay her mother’s words in her head over and over again and she couldn’t seem to stop. He’s not here. Why would he be? Had she really expected him to show? Had she wanted him to burst through at the last moment and tell her not to go through with it? Had she just wanted to see him? To scream at him? To kiss him one more time?

“Dad,” she cried, a little too loudly, bringing the both of them to an abrupt halt.

“What?” he said. “What is it?”

“Can I just, have a moment?” She replied. “Just to go outside and take a breather?”

He studied his daughter’s face, searching for something that he couldn’t find. He sometimes felt as though he wasn’t even looking at his daughter at all, as though something in her had changed. Something he could never quite put his finger on.

“What? Why?”

She was rapidly struggling to breathe, that uncontrollable depth of darkness grabbing a hold of her chest. “I just- I just need a minute to myself. Could you say that I’d had a problem with my dress? That should buy me a few minutes.”

“Betty, I don’t-“

“Dad,” she clutched his arm tightly, panic and desperation soaking her words. “Please.”

Hesitantly, Hal looked towards the door just a few yards away where so many people were waiting. Almost the entire town of Riverdale had shown for this; one of the biggest events of the year. He couldn’t help but think of Archie behind those doors, stood in his tux waiting for his bride. He was there himself in this very church once before so many years ago. Worrying if she’d show. Worrying if she’d change her mind.

“Ok,” he whispered, “but be quick.”

“I will.”

Welcoming the sound of the slight rustling of the trees, Betty steadied herself against a balcony entangled with bloodshot roses as she inhaled the smell of petrichor. She glanced back to make sure her dad was out of sight, before closing her eyes. She exhaled deeply, shaking her head and clutching her temple. She had done so well up until this point. What was wrong with her? Why was this happening now?

She took a few moments to gather her thoughts before releasing a subdued sigh and pulling herself back together in the best way that she knew how; it was second nature by this point. It was time to snap back to reality, whether she liked it or not. Turning on her heel, she started towards the door but Hal wasn’t there. The doorway was empty, in fact, which she couldn’t help but think was a little bit odd. It had definitely been longer than the minute she had been promised.

“Dad?” she called out, beginning to feel uneasy at the silence that followed as a shiver crept its way down her spine. She hated herself for it, but in that moment she wondered if she would be able run away without anyone seeing her. The thought of it made her stomach flip as she turned again only ever so slightly.

That was when she saw it.

A silhouette, a shell, an image she had only ever dreamed about for the past eight years. A person who was no longer real to her, but merely a figment of her imagination. A reminder of another life, just a small trick of light in everything that she did and everywhere that she went. She froze dead in her tracks, unable to catch her breath for even a second. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

He was on the other side of the terrace, far enough away that she was at a comfortable distance, but close enough that they were breathing each other in with every passing second. He looked up then, his eyes burning directly into hers. The darkness, the sorrow, the longing. Eight years and not a thing had changed about the way he looked at her. Her lip quivered. His voice cracked. Suddenly, she was sixteen again.

“Hey there, Juliet.”

Chapter Text

“Hey there, Juliet.”

The silence that followed was palpable. He leant against the door frame with his hands tucked firmly in his pockets, his black hair falling ever so slightly in front of his face. His leather jacket was visibly worn, his plaid shirt peeking through the front as just a small indication that he was indeed the same person. The same flesh and bone, the same mind, the same heart. Exactly the same yet completely changed all at once. He wasn’t wearing his beanie.

“Jug,” the name she hadn’t said since she was eighteen spilling out and shattering before she could stop it. “What are you-“ she choked, “what are you doing here?”

He pulled his eyes away then, removing his hands from his pockets and nervously turning an unsmoked cigarette between his fingers. There were so many words to say, but not a single one would come.

“Archie invited me,” he said after a while, his voice low and hoarse.

Something sank within her at the sound of his voice, unable to take her eyes off him, afraid that if she did he’d be gone again by the time she looked back up. His eyes met hers once more, as if by natural instinct, his face pained by the nothingness of everything. The weight of eight empty years balancing heavily on both of their shoulders.

“You look good,” he breathed, his face interchanged with the ghost of somebody she used to know.

All of a sudden, Hal was calling out Betty’s name, although he wasn’t yet in sight. Impulsively, she ran towards Jughead, grabbing him by the arm as she dragged him into the room on the other side of the terrace. Quietly closing the door behind her, she stared out of the tiny window and exhaled. She was still holding his arm, which she then dropped quite abruptly. He was right there in front of her then, so close that she could feel his breath. She studied his face and he studied hers, his eyes falling down to her lips just like it had done the first time that they had kissed. Although slightly more rugged and a little bit older, he looked just as she’d always remembered. He was still him. And she was still her. But they were not them anymore.

“Betty,” he whispered.

“Don’t.” There was so much distance between them, even more so now that they were close enough to touch. They had both pictured this moment so many times throughout the past eight years, imagining different scenarios with different endings, planning out exactly how they would approach it and exactly what they would say. Now that it was here, they had forgotten it all.

“I just wanted to see you,” he said.

“I said don’t.” She replied, her voice barely a whisper.

“You asked me why I was here.”

She wanted to kiss him then, but she didn’t. Instead, she backed away over to the other side of the room. Before either of them even had a chance to think of what to say next, there was a knock at the door, followed by another, and another, and another.

“Betty,” Hal cried, looking in through the dirty window. “Are you in there?”

She looked at her first love, soaking in every part of him, worried she may never see him again. She needed it, something to hold on to, to remind her all of it had ever been real. They both stayed completely silent, the look in her eyes telling him everything that he needed to know.

“I’m not really an expert on weddings,” Jughead mused when Hal had given up and frantically returned back inside, “but I’m pretty certain the bride shouldn’t be hiding in a room with someone like me when she’s supposed to be walking down the aisle.”

Betty’s eyes flared as she turned back around from the window where she was stood, making sure nobody was there. “I’m not hiding,” she cried, forgetting how he much he challenged her, “and you’re the one that just turned up here out of the blue, remember?”

He smiled for just the smallest fragment of a moment, tainted with an ache, a bitter sweet sadness lingering in the space between them.

“God, Jughead,” she sputtered, her voice taut and brittle, “It’s been eight years.”

“I know,” he replied quickly. There was that silence again, ringing so loudly in both of their ears.

“Can I ask you something?” he added quite suddenly.

Her eyes ran over his every feature, the scar above his lip which she had not seen before, a small reminder of another life that she had had no part in. Scars on his skin paired with scars only she could see, screaming when he looked at her. “What?”

Jughead shifted nervously, looking down and then back up again. His words dripped in vulnerability and regret. “Are you happy?”

Betty’s face fell, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she avoided eye contact for a brief second, as if he had just asked her the most bizarre and unnatural question she had ever heard.

“What?”

“Are you happy?” he repeated.

She shook her head, thinking about something as she clutched her temple. “Of course,” she began, before clearing her throat and straightening her frame. “Yes, I am.”

The sound of utter stillness resumed, his unspoken words bleeding out right in front of her and silently flooding every empty space. His voice cracked. “Then so am I.”

Abruptly and without any warning whatsoever, the door flung open, causing them to jump out of their skin. Alice was stood in the doorway, glowering at the both of them in complete disbelief.

“Mom,” Betty started.

She looked at Jughead long and hard before returning her gaze to her daughter and grasping her arm, leading her out of the room. Betty looked back, instinctively searching Jughead’s face for reassurance as it grew further and further away. Reaching the main building once more, Alice pulled Betty to the side where nobody else could see them.

“Are you doing this?” she whispered.

“Mom,” she muttered, looking towards the ground.

“Betty,” she hissed, forcing her daughter to meet her gaze. “Are you doing this?”

“Mom,” she kept her voice as hushed as she could. “I didn’t know he was going to show up here. I didn’t,” she insisted, growing visibly frustrated.

“That wasn’t my question,” she retorted. “They’re starting to think something is wrong. Archie is restless. You either go in there now or you leave before someone sees you.”

“What?” Betty replied, her face a mixture of confusion and doubt.

“I will help you,” she said, “but you need to make a decision and you need to make it now.”

Betty let her eyes wander back over to the room where she was just standing moments before. Jughead hadn’t moved, he was still in there, reeling over every word and every glance. Waiting for something. Waiting for nothing.

She thought back to all of those years ago, allowing the memories she’d tried so hard to contain float back up to the surface. It was her eighteenth birthday. There were candles and there was music, mixed with milkshakes and burgers and laughter. She was sat with Jughead, Archie and Veronica in their usual booth at Pop’s, whilst the rest of her friends and family filled up the seats around them. It was the first time anyone had been able to sit in there, especially Archie, without feeling the remaining chill after Fred had been shot a year and a half earlier. He had made a full recovery, but it was tough on Archie. It had been tough on everyone.
When Jughead joined the serpents, Betty had convinced herself that it would break them apart. And, of course, it didn’t come without its issues. She had felt him slipping away time and time again, if only a touch, but they always seemed to find their way back to each other. She was surprised, in fact, that their relationship had grown even stronger through it rather than just deteriorating like she was so concerned it would. She was happy back then. Truly, legitimately happy. She was happy even when she found out that she was pregnant.

It was a shock to the system, for sure. She had told Jughead straight away, without even a second thought. He was her partner in crime through everything, so why not this as well? It wasn’t planned and they were still so young and always so aware of that, but the both of them were more than willing to make it work. Nine months and six days later, their baby was born. Toby. Neither of them had ever felt happiness like it. He was tiny and he was beautiful and he was all theirs. They had both worked themselves into the ground to be able to afford their own little house just on the outskirts of Riverdale; it wasn’t perfect, but it was home. They had picked out the colour of the walls for every room, bought trinkets to sit above the fireplace and hung photographs wherever they could. Everything started to fit together almost seamlessly. A life that had been created so unexpectedly, yet one they could now never imagine being without.

Toby was less than three days old when they realised something wasn’t right. It was his first day back home. Betty had sat down to feed him, noticing instantly that his breathing was quicker than normal, shallower, as if the air was struggling to reach his body. Her heart had dropped in a way that it had never done before, she had called Jughead with shaking hands, unable to form sentences between frantic cries. They had taken him straight to the hospital, Betty cradling him in her arms as they did so. They weren’t even sure if they had locked the front door, it had all gone so quickly. An entire night that felt like an entire year waiting, jumping every time somebody came into the waiting room only to discover that it wasn’t for them. As the hours went on, Betty rested her head in Jughead’s lap as he stroked her hair, exhaustion retaining her entire body. The rest of their family and friends were waiting patiently in another part of the building. Only the parents themselves were allowed to be in the intensive care unit but, admittedly, they were grateful to be alone.

“He’s going to be ok,” Jughead breathed. “He’s a Jones and he’s a Cooper. He’s tough.”

“I’m scared, Jug,” she confessed through faint, quiet sobs.

“I know,” he replied, closing his eyes as he stretched down and kissed her head. “So am I.”

A few moments passed by as they sat in complete silence, holding onto each other with every bit of strength that they had.

“Hey,” Jughead declared, “I was thinking that when we get out of here, we should take Toby for his first burger at Pop’s.”

“Oh, really?” Betty countered, her voice fragile as she sat up and smiled for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. “I don’t know, but I think we should probably wait a few years for that.”

“Okay, fine,” he smirked, “I guess that I’ll keep the burgers for myself.”

“Sounds about right,” she giggled, wondering how he could do that even when it felt like her whole world was falling apart.

“Also,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. Even after everything, he still got nervous around her. Constantly terrified that she wouldn’t want to be with him anymore, that she’d wake up one day and decide she’d changed her mind.

She placed her hand softly over his. “What?”

Without another word, terrified that he’d back out, Jughead reached into his pocket and drew out a tiny black box. She knew exactly what it was without him even having to say anything.

“I was going to wait,” he said, “but-”

He opened it up to reveal a ring. Small but beautiful, glittering ever so slightly even in the blinding hospital light.

“Jug,” she croaked.

“Besides, isn’t this what people, like us, who have gone through what we’ve gone through, do?”

“Shut up, you idiot,” she laughed, her lips meeting his before he could say anything else. He kissed her back, overwhelmed with a warmth he didn’t even know existed until Betty. Until that first kiss in her bedroom. Until that night in his dad’s trailer. Until the day that their baby was born.

“Shall I take that as a yes?” He grinned as he gently placed the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit, the last puzzle piece of a beautiful picture. “No matter what happens,” he said, brushing his hand against her cheek, “tonight or tomorrow or in ten years time. I’ll be right here with you.”

“For better or worse?” She teased, her fingers intertwining with his.

“You bet.”

“Mr Jones, Miss Cooper?” A voice inquired, startling the both of them, breaking them away from their fleeting bubble of happiness. Betty leaped out of her seat, her hand still holding his as fear paralysed her body all over again.

“What?” She wailed. “What is it? Is he ok? Where is he?”

The doctor glanced momentarily over to Jughead, who had fallen silent at the tone of her voice. Truth be told, Betty didn’t remember much after that. Neither of them did. Just those three words that changed their lives forever, three words that haunted them every single day, three words that they heard in everything that they did and everywhere that they went. The ring began to slip ever so slightly down her finger, the puzzle piece starting to crack.

“I’m so sorry.”

From that day on, nothing was ever the same again. How could it be? They both inadvertently withdrew from one another, pulled away by a current stronger than they were or could have ever been after losing a child. Neither of them wanted it to happen; it just did. Jughead poured himself into his writing, spending almost every night by himself in Pop’s, whilst Betty barely ever moved out of bed, holding onto a tiny blue blanket that she refused to let go of. They didn’t talk, they barely even looked at each other, only reminded of their loss whenever they did so. It was four months later that they decided to end it. Betty moved back home, back into her childhood bedroom where she spent the majority of her time crying herself to sleep, and Jughead left town. Just like that. She never knew where he went. Nobody did.

Now as she stood in her wedding dress a whole eight years later, only a few steps away from her past that was holding out its hand to her, she looked towards the open door and she turned her back.

“Let’s go,” she said, looking her mother directly in the eye, her voice quivering. “People are waiting.”

Chapter Text

“I think Archie’s going to propose,” Veronica had declared, her voice bursting with excitement as she perched on the edge of Betty’s bed five and a half years earlier. It had been almost three years since Betty had last seen Jughead and she was only just beginning to feel like her old self again.

“Wow, V,” she replied. “Really?” She was beaming at the sight of seeing her best friend so happy.

“I mean, he hasn’t said anything,” Veronica looked up to the ceiling, “but I just have a feeling. He’s been acting differently lately, as if he’s planning something. He wants to take me to dinner tonight.”

“Ok,” Betty replied, “I need details exactly when and how it happens. Do you promise?”

“I promise,” she cried, letting out a little squeal as she let herself fall backwards onto the soft pastel bed sheets.

Betty remembered that that night had been strange. Veronica hadn’t called or texted like she had promised to; in fact, she had started to feel a little unnerved at the silence that had continued right up until the early hours of the morning. Veronica definitely wouldn’t have kept as quiet as she did if Archie had proposed to her. It would have been all over social media by now; the talk of the town. It wasn’t until she had gotten into bed and turned off her bedside light that her phone finally beeped.

‘I’m outside.’ It read, a short and simple text message from Veronica. Naturally, Betty jumped out of bed in excitement before creeping down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone in the process. It wasn’t until she opened the door that her face completely dropped. Veronica had been crying. Her makeup was smudged and her dark brown eyes were brimming with a familiar melancholic exhaustion.

“V,” Betty whispered, rushing over to grab her friend as she started to sob. “What happened?”

“He ended it,” she cried. “It’s over. He took me out for dinner to tell me, that coward. He did it because he knew I wouldn’t break down in a room full of people.”

Betty was speechless for a few moments, unable to even comprehend how or why this had happened. They had been so happy together for the past five years, practically glued to each other everywhere that they went. It was sickening at times, actually, but in the most endearing way. Betty couldn’t imagine either of them with anyone else; nobody could. Carefully leaving the door ajar, she placed a soft grip on Veronica’s arm and brought her down to the bottom of her driveway where they could talk properly. She pulled her into an embrace again, not really sure of what else to do.

“Did he say why?” she asked eventually, stroking her hair between shushes, and that was when it changed. Something shifted. Something was ignited. Something darker. Veronica’s body completely seized up at the question. She stopped crying quite abruptly, pulling away with a little more force than Betty was expecting.

“You might want to sit down for this one, Betty,” she sneered.

“What?” she replied, growing increasingly concerned with Veronica’s abrupt change in demeanor.

“He’s in love with you,” she blurted, a bitter laugh escaping her mouth as she did so. Betty froze as her hands dropped to her side. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “He couldn’t keep ‘leading me on’. I guess I should’ve seen this coming.”

“V, are you sure-”

“Ever since that day at Southside High when he was staring a hole through you and Jughead. I knew it then. God, it was so obvious,” she gripped her temple as if realising everything that she had been missing, or rather everything that she been trying to repress.

“I don’t know what to say,” Betty admitted, hating herself for focusing more on the mention of Jughead than anything else. Nobody dared to speak about him around her anymore; the sound of his name felt foreign to her now. Just a reminder of a life she had lost. She had remembered that day at Southside High, of course. She was fighting for him with every inch of her being, she was consumed by a longing that she had never felt before, she was willing to risk everything that she had for him. And what good had it done now?

“This isn’t your fault,” Veronica retorted, lowering the volume of her voice. “I don’t want this to break us apart. I don’t, but-“

“Please,” Betty pleaded.

Veronica’s eyes hit the floor as she retreated into herself. “I don’t know if I can be here anymore.”

Betty clenched her fists together in the same way that she had always done. The only way she felt she could cope; a habit that she just couldn’t kick. “I can’t lose you, too,” she whispered, not realising that she was crying until a bitter tear fell into her mouth.

Veronica looked up again, frustrated and drained and dejected. “How can I just pretend that everything’s ok?”

And, with that, Betty fell silent. Because she didn’t know.

Shortly after that night on the driveway, Veronica left Riverdale for the summer, and when she came back something in her had changed. She had kept in touch with Betty like she had promised, meeting up with her for milkshakes at Pop’s every weekend, but it wasn’t the same anymore. There was a distance there that they both felt, and there was nothing Betty could do about it. Time passed and Veronica moved on. She was quite happy now, as far as Betty was aware, but she had never been able to speak to Archie again. Betty thought that her turning up at the wedding would be like a white flag. A sign that they were all ready to put the past behind them. She knew that, if anything, she couldn’t risk sabotaging that.

Confronting a troubled glance from her father, she held onto his extended arm once more and waited. Neither of them said a word this time. Polly was there, none the wiser, as she offered Betty her bouquet and gave her hand an excited squeeze.

“Are you ready?” She asked, beaming in that same pure, beautiful way that Polly Cooper always did.

“Yep,” Betty muttered, smiling back for just a second before looking down at the flowers in her hands. She wanted to throw them across the hall and run. She wanted to scream and fight and cry and feel. Feel something. Feel anything.

The start of the wedding march made her jump. It was much louder than she had expected, causing her entire body to numb. Almost instinctively, she stole a glance at the door at the other end of the hall where she had been just moments earlier. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for, but it wasn’t there.

Upon approaching the open entrance, Betty was uncomfortably aware of hundreds of eyes fixated solely on her. Their gazes were burning through her skin and she hated it. She knew that he would have hated it too, if he was here, which he wasn’t. She was aware of that more than anything else. They began to walk and the eyes turned into smiles, but Betty avoided every single one of them. She didn’t want to look at Archie; she didn’t want to look at anyone. She was scared that she might change her mind while there was still time. She didn’t trust herself, and she had every reason not to.

“You look beautiful,” Archie breathed when she had reached to join him. She looked back up then, meeting the gaze of the boy that she had once wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with. He was looking at her in a way she could never reciprocate. The truth was that she had given all of herself to someone else, and she had never gotten it back.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness the coming together of Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper in holy matrimony,” the vicar had begun, his words slowly turning into white noise inside of Betty’s head.

“If any person here knows of a reason why these two may not be joined together, please speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Betty’s whole body halted. She held her breath for what felt like a lifetime during those tiny few seconds, terrified of Jughead bursting through the doors and telling her not to go through with it. Terrified because she knew that she wanted him to. But he didn’t. In fact, there wasn’t a sound at all. Archie reached to grasp Betty’s hands and it made her flinch. Veronica shifted ever so slightly in her seat.

As she stood only moments away from becoming Archie’s wife, she thought back to all of those years ago when Archie had first proposed. He had done it quite impulsively, walking her home after a movie night and getting down on one knee whilst her back was turned. Initially she had told him that she would think about it, retreating into the house and thinking of nothing other than that night in the hospital instead. When she told her parents of Archie’s proposal, she was at a point in her life where she was at her most vulnerable. Life after Jughead and Toby had been hard, she felt as though she was getting older and getting nowhere. Settling down was very much a plausible and sensible option and, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew it.

“I say do it,” she remembered Hal exclaiming as he paced around the dining room table.

“Hal,” Alice had started. She was sat just beside Betty and had barely said a word for a good ten minutes.

“No,” he snapped. “Betty, we were so worried about you after everything that happened. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy again? To feel safe and secure? Archie will give you all of that.”

There was a brief silence, which was rare in the Cooper household. Betty was shocked that Alice was the quietest of them all.

“So, you think I should marry someone that I don’t even love?”

“Betty-“ Alice began, cut off by Hal before she could finish.

“I think you should think about your future,” he replied. “We only want the best for you. I’m sorry, but I was never keen on that Jughead anyway. It was a blessing in disguise when he left town.”

“Hal!” Alice screeched, nothing but fury in her eyes as she abruptly jumped up out of her chair.

Betty gaped in disbelief. “How dare you,” she jeered, her eyes blurred by warm tears as she stood to leave the room, unable to listen to another word that left her father’s mouth. She slammed the door behind her, running out into the cold, crisp air, forgetting to even pick up her coat as she did so. Where had he gone? Where was he now? Why did he leave her?

“Betty,” Alice called, quickening the pace to catch up with her. “Betty, please!”

“What?!” She cried, turning sharply. “You and Dad are suffocating me, Mom. I know I haven’t been myself lately, I know that-“

“You need to do what is right for you,” Alice interjected, beginning to raise her voice. “If that’s not marrying Archie, then that’s up to you, but if you’re putting your life on hold because you’re waiting for Jughead to come back-“

“No,” Betty snapped, something in her screaming and scratching to get out. “I’m not waiting for anything. I’m not an idiot.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want for everyone to just leave me the hell alone,” she hissed. It started to snow again, only ever so slightly, and Betty was beginning to feel the cold bite into her neck. “If it’s going to make you so happy, then I’ll just do it. Ok?”

Alice wrinkled her face as she shook her head. “What?”

“I’ll marry Archie,” she confirmed, her eyes vacant and nonchalant as she turned on her heel. “Go and tell dad, he’ll probably want to plan the whole thing to his liking anyway.”

Alice grabbed her arm frantically. “Betty, you’re not listening to me-“

“I guess I’ll see you at the wedding,” she spat, pulling herself out of her mother’s grasp. And with that, she walked on, nothing but the crunching of the snow to keep her company. Nobody followed her this time.

“Archie, do you take Betty to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to comfort, to have and to hold in sickness and in health, for better or worse, til death do you part?”

Betty was suddenly dragged back to reality faster than she would’ve liked, realising that she was no longer walking through the snow, but instead she was here. At the altar. Drowning.

“I do.” The words left Archie’s mouth as if they were the most natural and easiest thing he had ever said.

“Betty,” she jumped at the sound of her own name. “Do you take Archie to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to comfort, to have and to hold in sickness and in health, for better or-“

“Wait.”

The silence that followed was a silence unlike any other that had come before it. The word had fallen out of Betty’s mouth with a bitter taste. Archie was still smiling, keeping his hands firmly on hers, but his conduct was beginning to falter.

“Is everything ok?” The vicar whispered, leaning ever so slightly into her. She looked at him and she looked at Archie and she couldn’t help but notice that there was a kind of inexplicable understanding there, as if both of them knew something that they were too afraid to speak of.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Yes, yes it is. Of course. Please, carry on.”

Despite Betty’s efforts, the atmosphere in the room had changed and it was impossible not to feel it. The vicar continued to recite the vow that she were to take after a slight hesitation, his voice now somewhat more cautious than it was before. This was it. As soon as she said those two simple words, there was no going back. She was sinking lower and lower out of her own accord, and nobody was reaching in the water to revive her.

Nobody, except one.

“Stop,“ a familiar voice bellowed, the squeak of a chair against the marble floor echoing throughout the entire room. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do this.”

Betty dropped Archie’s hands instantaneously, her attention shifting towards something else. Someone else. Everything that followed merged into a blur.

“Mom?”

“Betty, I need you to listen to me.”

Alice swallowed, closing her eyes as if re-living a memory that she had never intended to revisit. She opened them again almost instantly, her face pained by an unspoken secret. She started to cry.

“We’ve been lying to you.”

Chapter Text

“We’ve been lying to you.”

Alice Cooper choked on her words as if processing them for the very first time. “Jughead didn’t just ignore you for the past eight years.”

Betty’s entire body seized up. “What?”

“He called, he wrote, he even turned up at the door two years ago.”

The whole crowd were muttering amongst themselves then, gasping and shaking their heads in astonishment. Betty’s breath caught in her throat as the paper walls she had single-handedly built for herself collapsed all around her.

“Would you shut up and sit down?” Hal interposed, trying to keep his voice down and failing in the process.

“Your father convinced me to keep it quiet,” Alice confessed, jerking her arm away and looking at the floor in utter shame. “He made me believe that it was what was best for you. But it’s not. Betty, it’s not.”

“Betty?” Archie said, taking her by surprise as he grazed her arm to try and bring her back into the room with him.

“Betty,” Alice repeated, her voice laced with guilt.

Betty, Betty, Betty. Her own name sounding like something alien and distant to her now. The truth was that she had never been in the room to begin with. Glancing momentarily at Archie and then back at her mother, she was utterly lost for words. She allowed her eyes to dart across the room as if looking for an answer that wasn’t there, her breath quickening as she did so.

“This is ridiculous,” Hal cleared his throat as he stood up beside his wife. “Your mother is deranged. You don’t believe this, surely?”

“I need to go,” Betty muttered suddenly, the quiet words dripping from her lips as she picked up the bottom of her dress and stumbled towards the door.

“Betty!” Archie bellowed, following her frantically and grabbing a hold of the hand that was once interlaced with his only moments earlier. “Don’t go, please.”

“This is a mistake, Betty,” Hal reiterated, a sense of panic in his voice that she had not heard before.

“Arch,” she whispered, ignoring her father’s remarks as she turned to see her fiancé for what felt like the first time in years. As a friend and as a distant memory, but nothing more. She shook her head as tears began to fill her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

And with that, Betty Cooper was doing something that she’d never imagined she’d find the courage to do. She was running. The past eight years flashed through her mind so quickly that she could hardly focus. Those nights that she had cried herself to sleep now all merged into one, feeling her heart shatter a little more with every unanswered phone call, text, email, letter. All of this so blindingly orchestrated by her parents when she had had her back turned. How could she ever forgive them for this? A familiar feeling appeared in the pit of her stomach. A longing. To see him, to touch him, to hear his voice; the only voice she ever wanted to hear say her name again. Everything she had thought had been a lie; a lie that had grown and developed and turned her entire life upside down. Sure, Jughead had left, but he had tried to come back. Even today, he had tried. He had never stopped trying. That, to her, changed everything.

Nobody had followed her, not even her father, and she was pleasantly surprised at the new-found solitude. She wasn’t even thinking about the mess that she had left behind, all she could think of was the boy in the beanie who had kissed her in her bedroom all of those years ago and how badly she needed to be next to him again. She was outside now, pulling on her signature ponytail as her hair flew back in the wind. Warm raindrops were racing down her skin as she looked desperately around the wide open space before her. There was nothing. No one. Without much of a second thought, she continued to run, the trail of her white dress discolouring in the dirt below her. The further she fled, the further her perfect façade began to effortlessly strip away. The clouded sky was fading into a pink and orange hue as the storm began to pick up. Betty stopped in her tracks as she ran her hands through her dampened, messy hair, cupping her face as she stared up at the sky. I’ve lost him again, she cried silently.

Unexpectedly, and almost by some kind of miracle, something in the distance caught her eye. To her right were the stables, a beautiful chestnut-coloured horse standing outside as a young woman not much older than herself brushed through his mane. It wasn’t long before the woman saw her approaching, jumping as she did so and grasping her chest as she laughed slightly.

“Miss Cooper, or, I guess I should say Mrs Andrews now?” She stuttered, clearly taken aback by Betty’s abrupt and slightly bizarre change in appearance. “Is everything ok?”

“I need this horse,” Betty retorted, panting heavily as her wet hair began to drip down her back.

“I don’t,” the woman replied, “I don’t understand.”

“Long story short, I need to go and find my high school boyfriend and tell him that I didn’t get married and that I’m in love with him.”

The woman blinked. “Oh.”

Cautiously handing over the reins without so much as another word, Betty smiled with sincerity as a warm breeze brushed over her. 

“Thank you,” she said, before kicking off her shoes and hoisting herself up. “I’ll bring him back. One more thing?”

“Y- yes?”

“Do you have anything I can wear other than heels?”

Just this morning, Betty Cooper was getting ready for her wedding day with shaking hands and an unbearable weight on her shoulders. Now, merely hours later, she was riding a horse through fields and empty streets in a dirtied wedding dress and old, worn cowboy boots. The weight was lifting, if only slightly. She had no idea where he was or where he could even be, she had no idea what she would even say or what the outcome would be, but she knew that she wasn’t giving up without a fight. Not again.

A good half an hour must have passed before she finally recognised where she was. She was definitely back in Riverdale, the ceremony having taken place in a church just outside. There was a beautiful patch of land just beside it where they were setting up for the meal and after party, as well as horse rides for whoever wanted them. They hadn’t expected it to rain. They hadn’t expected Jughead to show up out of nowhere. They hadn’t expected the bride to take a horse and run away. But nothing in this town was ever as it seemed, and nobody knew that better than Betty Cooper.

When she came upon the familiar red, lit up sign, she didn’t even have to think. He was in there. She knew he was. She kicked herself for even considering that he would be anywhere else. The one place he went to for comfort and solace, the place where he had kissed her hands and shown her a love and acceptance she didn’t even know had existed, the place where she had last seen him before he left as they had sat in total silence. The place where they had both fallen in love and fallen apart. 

Before she could even act on her impulse, she saw him. He was leaving already, tightening his leather jacket against the wind and the rain. He was relatively far away, but she had not a single doubt in her mind that it was him. It took him approximately three seconds before he looked up and saw her. His face was unreadable, his eyes squinting in the midst of the storm. She was taken off guard, the rain hitting her cheeks and blurring her vision. He had stopped quite abruptly, his hands dropping to his sides as he drank in the image before him. Before she knew it, her feet were on the ground and she was walking closer, not daring to break their gaze for a second, becoming increasingly aware of the fact that this may well be the last time she would ever see him. She stopped at a comfortable distance. Her heart was pounding against her chest.

“You know,” he remarked after a few moments of silence, “most people would’ve just gotten a cab.”

“You know,” she replied, “you’re a total pain in the ass.”

She wanted to run over and kiss him then, to grab his face in her hands and to never let him out of her sight again, but something stopped her. Her hands began to shake.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. “Where’s Archie?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her tears intertwining with the rain. “I didn’t know that you’d tried to come back. I didn’t know.”

“What do you mean you didn’t know?” he said suddenly. “Your dad told me that you didn’t want to see me. That you couldn’t even bear to look at me.”

“And you believed him?”

He looked towards the ground, struggling to find the right words, the rain now hammering against the concrete beneath them. There was a pause. Neither of them moved an inch.

"I was lying when I told you I was happy,” she exclaimed, his eyes looking up to meet hers again. “But I think you already knew that.”

Jughead gulped as he examined every inch of her, desperate to reach out and feel her skin against his. “I only wanted the best for you.” He pushed his hair out of his face. “And I didn’t think that that was me.”

She finally stepped closer, the distance of eight painful years growing smaller and smaller as she let her hand instinctively brush against his cold, wet cheek. “Jug,” she breathed.

He lifted his hand to meet hers then, the touch sparking something in the both of them that had been sitting waiting ever since the day that he’d left. Their eyes searched one another, finding something they had lost and had so desperately been trying to recover. His eyes slowly fell down to her lips as he bit his own, their breath quickening as they became increasingly aware of the space between them and how badly they wanted to fill it.

“How could it be anyone but you?“

“Betty!” A voice yelled, causing the both of them to jump out of their momentary bubble. Betty was shocked to turn and see her old best friend, the last person on earth she had expected to run after her, especially on her wedding day. “You need to come with me now,” she cried.

“Veronica?”

She looked around her anxiously. “Both of you, please. Get in.”

“What’s going on?” Betty stuttered, still clutching onto Jughead’s hand as she stepped a little closer. The lights of Veronica’s car were blinding, exposing the heaviness of the rain that they had been standing in, unaware of anything except for each other. The sky had turned a deep purple, the black clouds smothering the newly-risen moon. Nothing could prepare them for what was about to happen next.

“I overheard your parents talking.” The thunder echoed around them, following a quick flash of light. Veronica gripped onto her steering wheel even tighter.

“Betty.”

“What?”

“I think Toby’s alive.”

Chapter Text

"I think Toby's alive.”

Betty's grip on Jughead tightened. "What? What do you-"

"They've been lying to you about more than you think."

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jughead quaked, shielding his eyes from the rain.

“If you get in I will explain what I know. But it has to be now.”

Betty’s heart was pounding against her chest. “Why?”

“Because,” she replied, “your dad has lost it.”

Betty shook her head, removing her hand from Jughead’s as she pulled her hair out of her face.

“What do you mean, lost it?”

“Please, just trust me.”

Amidst all of the craziness, the darkness, the nights of nothing but emptiness, Betty knew one thing for sure: she trusted Veronica with all of her heart. But she wasn’t sure if Veronica trusted her anymore. At first, the drive encompassed nothing but silence. Instinctively, Jughead reached out and squeezed Betty’s hand, to which she squeezed back.

“V, what’s happening?” She finally said, her voice barely a murmur.

“I don’t know all of the details,” she replied, “but after you left everything kind of went into a frenzy.”

Betty frowned, looking down at her dress which was still soaked through with mud and rain.

“Your mom and dad went into the hallway to talk,” Veronica continued. “I was about to leave when I overheard them. Your dad was telling your mom to keep quiet about something; she was pretty upset with him. They mentioned a child and that you would never speak to them again and all your mom did was cry. I kind of put two and two together.”

“I don’t understand. How could he possibly- How could we not know?” Betty wanted to cry, but she was so overwhelmed that nothing would come out. Terrified of losing her son all over again, she ran scenario after scenario over in her head, but nothing she could muster up seem to make sense. Toby, their baby, alive after all of this time? After years of mourning and misery and emptiness. How could he be? And, more importantly, why?

“Where are you taking us?” Jughead’s voice cracked as he watched the street lights fly past with every passing second.

“The Register. There must be some kind of information there. Don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Betty said, “or perhaps they’ve hidden something in the house.”

“We can check there too, but we’ll probably have to be quick.”

“Why would they do this?” Jughead asked.

“I don’t know,” Betty replied. “They didn’t even like Archie when we were in high school, you know? I could never figure out why they wanted me to be with him so badly.”

“If Toby’s alive,” he started, unable to finish his sentence.

“I know,” she said quickly. “I know.”

The lights were off in the Cooper household, meaning that nobody had gotten there before them just yet. As soon as they made it inside, Betty and Jughead searched the place top to bottom as Veronica kept watch from the window.

“I can’t find anything,” Betty exclaimed as she bounded down the stairs. “There’s nothing here.”

“Same,” Jughead replied, emerging from the dining room. “Nothing.”

“I’ve had an epiphany,” Veronica said suddenly, her eyes lighting up after considering admitting defeat. “Forget The Register. Where’s the one place your parents knew you’d never go back to? The place you couldn’t face?”

“Oh my god,” Betty replied. “That’s it.”

Jughead’s eye flickered from Veronica and then back to Betty again. “Where?”

“The Blue and Gold.”

After quickly changing into some dry clothes, Betty and the two ghosts from her past found themselves rushing to a place they hadn’t stepped foot in since they were just a group of kids falling in love, falling apart, and putting themselves back together again. Riverdale High.

“I thought the Blue and Gold had died out,” Jughead remarked as they snuck around the side of the building, “you know, after everything.”

Betty flinched, her gaze falling to the floor. “It did,” she replied, composing herself, “but I insisted that everything be kept in its place. I couldn’t let it go. Not that it mattered, because I couldn’t even bear to look at any of it after you left.”

She looked at him then, her eyes burning into his for just a split second before Veronica tore them away from one another.

“I know a way in,” she exclaimed, gesturing for them to follow. “Come on.”

It was dark, the moon reflecting an icy cold glare amidst the deceivingly warm breeze, and providing them with their only source of light. Successfully picking the lock of a small, old back door with a hair grip, something Betty had taught her a whole other lifetime ago, Veronica opened the door and hurriedly turned on the flash on her phone to use as a torch. It didn’t take them long to find the room that they were looking for, the room that had once been the home of the Blue and Gold, responsible for much more than just bringing Betty and Jughead together in the first place. There was a sense of familiarity and nostalgia in the air as they carefully made their way down the old hallways, almost as if they had never even left. As if all of those years away had vanished into nothing.

“Stay here and keep watch,” Betty whispered, effortlessly throwing her dampened hair up into a ponytail. “I’m going in.”

“Betty-“ Jughead interjected, grazing her arm gently.

“It’s ok,” she replied. “I’ll be quick.”

A few moments passed, Jughead intently staring after Betty as Veronica allowed her eyes to run over the vacant hallway before her. She could see her old locker, and that sparked something in her. She tried not to think of Archie and all of the memories that were flooding back to her now that she was here, how he stole her heart and broke it, just like every other girl in this place. But not Betty. She had always known better, and that’s why the news of the engagement had initially shocked her so much. Now, after the plot twists of all plot twists, Veronica knew that Archie could never have broken Betty’s heart again, because the truth was that she never really gave it to him to begin with. Deep down, she’d always known that. She took a deep breath, eyeing the broken, dark-haired boy stood beside her.

“So, not to divert too much from the kind of humongous issue we have on our hands but-“

He didn’t move, although surprised by the sudden sound of her voice. “What?”

“I just didn’t expect to see you back there at Pop’s. You know, both of you. Together.”

Jughead turned, scanning the space around them. “Well, it sure is a day for unexpected instances.”

“Whatever’s happening,” she said, “I’m happy that you’ve found your way back to each other.”

He looked down. “We haven’t really had time to talk about it. You know, too busy almost getting married, breaking into high schools and finding our dead son.”

“Well, it’s nice to see that your sardonic humour hasn’t gone anywhere,” she smirked with a sigh.

They smiled at each other, only briefly, as if forgiving one another for something unsaid. An acceptance and understanding passing between the both of them.

“She never stopped loving you, you know?”

He flinched as he broke their gaze, his breath catching in his throat as he looked towards the ground once more, his face pained.

“Her parents practically pushed this wedding onto her, she didn’t even really have much of a say,” she continued. “I didn’t blame her for it. I still don’t. It was just too much, you know?”

Jughead momentarily closed his eyes, nodding ever so slightly. “I know.”

“Maybe things are about to change.”

He pursed his lips together, turning back to face the door as he remembered how he had stood here back when he was just a kid, fighting with himself to go in and talk to the girl he had been in love with ever since she had smiled at him in middle school. Little did he know he’d be the love of her life. He gulped.

“There’s no ‘maybe’ about it.”

Encased within four familiar walls, Betty didn’t know where to look first. This room was used for nothing now except storage; it had almost been forgotten about, but never by her. She thought back to all of those years earlier, gazing at the exact spot where she was stood across the room from Jughead, pleading for him to come and write for the paper. Neither of them could ever have imagined what was to come for them back then. How they’d be one of the most important parts of each other’s lives, how they’d fall in love, get engaged and have a baby. How it would all fall apart. Then slowly, somehow, come back together again.

Rummaging through every drawer before her, clutching onto Veronica’s phone for light, all she could seem to find were pages and pages of nothing but emptiness and irrelevance. Old paperwork from Jason Blossom’s murder, issues of the paper smothered by dust, pens drained of ink, faded class photographs.

“Come on,” she whispered to herself, “there has to be something.”

And then, just when she thought she might be wasting her time after all, something caught her eye. It was an envelope, wedged right down the back, crumpled and creased. It stood out to her because of the handwriting on the front. She would’ve recognised it anywhere. Jughead’s. Her face furrowed in confusion, ripping it open and retrieving a single piece of paper. It was a letter, dated seven years earlier. A letter she had never seen before now.

Betty,

I’m not really sure how to word this, which is funny, really, seeing as I’m supposedly so good with words. I guess I just need to say that I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry that I left, I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I’m sorry that it’s taken me a whole year to do this. I know that probably doesn’t mean a hell of a lot, but I need to say it anyway.

I love you. No matter what happens, I guess that I always will. I want to marry you and start a family again and give every part of me that I possibly can. I never thought I could love or be loved by anyone the way that I did with you and with our son. I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but please, if there’s any chance you do, will you write back? I’ve tried calling but your parents keep telling me to stop. I even called Archie but he’s been nothing but vague and distant. I’ve left my current address on the back of the envelope – it’s completely your call.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you.

Jughead


She stood completely still for a moment, slowly absorbing the words strung out in front of her. If she’d have gotten this letter everything would have been different. The calls that she’d missed and the letters that had gone unanswered, all of which she was completely oblivious to. Her parents were controlling her life in a way she couldn’t even have imagined. How could she have been so blind to what was right in front of her for eight whole years? Not only had Jughead tried time and time again to reach out to her, he clearly thought that Betty’s silence had meant that she didn’t want to hear from him and had no intention of responding. Something in her broke at the thought of that, especially because it couldn’t have been further than the truth.

But that wasn’t the only envelope that had been hidden.

“Is everything ok?” Jughead’s voice dragged her out of her own thoughts, the sight of him in the doorway filling her with a surge of sadness, desire, uncertainty and longing. She gripped onto the envelope a little tighter, taking in every part of him in while she could. His black hair lay scruffily against his face, dripping slightly from the rain, his eyes piercing straight through her as he held onto the door. How could he look at her and make her feel like no time had passed at all? She breathed deeply, before opening it up and inspecting what lay inside.

“These are letters,” she finally breathed.

“Letters from who?”

“A family in Silvercross, wherever the hell that is. They’re all addressed to my mom, talking about a boy… a boy called James? There’s a letter for every year. All eight of them.”

Jughead allowed the door to close, gradually walking closer as he spoke. “James? You think that it’s?”

“I don’t know,” she said quickly, struggling to keep up with her own thoughts.

“What do they say?”

Betty swallowed, clearing her throat as she began to read the words aloud as quietly as she could.

“This one’s dated three years ago.”

Alice,

We have just celebrated James’ fifth birthday and I thought that I would check in with you. He’s healthy and he’s happy, first and foremost. He’s drawing now and he’s actually pretty good at it for his age. He’s always quite content with a crayon in his hand. He’s a smart kid, which I’m sure you saw for yourself when you met him, and he’s always asking questions about the lady with the blonde hair and when she’ll be coming back. We appreciated your visit and we hope to see you again soon.

Best wishes from all of us,

Marie

“Who the hell is Marie?”

Betty dropped the paper onto the desk before them. “I have no idea,” she muttered, “but whoever she is… she might have our son, Jug.”

“Do you really think that it’s him?”

Abruptly, and before she could even think of how to reply, the door flung open as alarms started to blare. “Guys, we need to leave. Now.”

Frantically gathering the papers before her, including the letter she’d found at the start, she seized a hold of Jughead’s arm and headed for the door, following Veronica’s lead.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Chapter Text

“Silvercross? I’ve never even heard of it.”

“According to Google, it’s a couple of hours out of Riverdale.”

“Maybe we should find somewhere to stay,” Veronica suggested. “It’s getting late and perhaps we’ll have clearer heads after some sleep.”

“She’s probably right,” Jughead admitted.

“Sorry, what was that? Did you just say that I was right?”

“I said probably,” he exclaimed, shaking his head in response to her smirk.

After fleeing from the school, the trio drove away as fast as possible. Nobody was following them, and they were all getting tired, as much as they wanted to fight it. Without even thinking much about it, Betty shuffled over slightly and rested her head on Jughead’s shoulder, closing her eyes and exhaling.

“There’s a motel around here somewhere, I’m sure of it,” Veronica said.

Sure enough, Veronica was right, and roughly fifteen minutes later they came upon an old motel. It wasn’t anything special; in fact, it was far from it. The surrounding area was nothing more than a ghost town, a petrol station and small shop across the road being the only real indication of civilisation. They’d started to lose track of where they even were by this point, consumed by their exhaustion, knowing they couldn’t continue this endeavour without some form of rest.

“I wonder if Norman Bates is hiding in there,” Jughead cried as he stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him.

“It’ll do,” Betty replied, throwing him a playful glare.

“Just stay out of the shower.”

Upon checking in with an old man and his wife who were clearly quite shocked yet simultaneously excited to actually have some form of human contact; Betty, Jughead and Veronica made their way up a single flight of stairs to where their rooms were located. They managed to blag a double room each for a pretty decent price, plus the old woman had taken quite a shine to Jughead, which had helped them in their haggling.

“You know, you look just like my first husband,” she laughed, “but even juicier.”

“Ok, well, we best be getting to bed then,” he replied quickly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say no!” She looked towards Betty and Veronica and laughed, clutching her chest as she did so.

“No, I didn’t-“

“Just shout if you need anything,” she winked, “anything at all.”

Betty and Veronica couldn’t help but burst out laughing as she bounded back down the stairs, her little grey bob bouncing as she did so.

“Why do these things happen to me?” He murmered, shaking his head, catching Betty’s eyes as they both smiled.

“Ok, well I best get some beauty sleep. It takes at least a solid eight hours to look as good as this,” Veronica giggled, smiling as she turned to walk down the hall to her door. “Good night.”

“V,” Betty called out as she briskly followed her, “wait.”

“Yeah?”

And without saying another word, Betty had thrown her arms around her estranged best friend for the first time in god knows how long. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Veronica gave Betty a slight squeeze, pulling away but keeping a grip on her arms.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replied. The two exchanged a nod of warmth and sincerity before Veronica retreated into her room.

“Well,” Jughead cleared his throat. “I guess I better call it a night too.”

“Yeah,” Betty smiled as she walked back over and looked towards the ground. “Crazy day, huh?”

“That’s definitely an understatement.”

The two stood in silence for a few moments, struggling to gather their thoughts.

“Night, Jug,” she said finally, waiting for something she wasn’t sure was coming, before turning on her heel.

He swallowed, watching her walk away. “Night, Betts.”

Closing the door behind her and taking a good minute to lean against it and exhale deeply, Betty was alone with her thoughts once more. She closed her eyes, placing her head in her hands as she ran over the day’s events. It was impossible to focus on just one, and she kept wondering if any of it had even been real at all.

Pulling off her shoes, jeans and leaving her t-shirt on, Betty climbed into bed and closed her eyes as soon as her head hit the pillow. She hadn’t realised how exhausted she really was until now, yet she still just couldn’t seem to switch her brain off, especially knowing that Jughead was only in the next room. After a few moments of tossing and turning, her eyes shot open and she stared at the ceiling in frustration, throwing her arms to her sides in defeat. Jumping out of the sheets, she walked towards the dresser on the other side of the room and sat down, staring at the person in the reflection before her. She hadn’t looked herself in the eye for so many years. She’d been so cruel and so self-deprecating, always taking the blame for everything that went wrong in her life, telling herself that she was the problem.

Almost immediately, something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. Placed to the left of the dresser was a small notepad and pen, she assumed for leaving a nice old “thanks for the stay, lovely service!” kind of message. Of course, if you’d count ‘lovely service’ as being hit on by a woman triple your age. She giggled again at the thought of the look on Jughead’s face. Then her trail of thought completely shifted. Jughead. Without another thought, she grabbed the pen and began to write, her own words running away with her. After fifteen minutes of scribbling and crossing out and re-writing, she folded up the paper and shoved it into the pocket of a small, white dressing gown that was hanging on her door, before slipping it on and making her way onto the long, shared balcony. She had to see him.

She welcomed the fresh air and the feel of the concrete beneath her bare feet, a cool breeze raising goosebumps on her arms as she tightened them around herself. It had finally stopped raining. She stood still for a few minutes, admiring the night sky above her. She thought back to how she’d always scan the sky every night before she went to sleep after Toby had died, thinking that he was somehow up there looking down on her. As long as the sky was clear, she felt a little less alone.

“Can’t sleep?” A voice startled her.

She turned, meeting a familiar face as she looked down and smiled. Her heart was racing.

“I guess I watched Psycho one too many times,” she laughed.

He stepped closer, only slightly, but she couldn’t have been more aware of it if she’d tried. “Psycho, really?”

“Don’t act dumb, Jughead Jones. You’re the one who made me watch it in the first place, remember?”

He smirked, staring at her, his eyes softening. “Yeah, I remember.”

The sound of silence briefly returned, both of them lost in a momentary memory of a past life. There were no cars on the road and no voices but their own. It was peaceful and slightly comforting, feeling as though they were the only two people awake in the world.

“Hey,” her eyes fell to the floor as she put her hand in her pocket, “I have something for you.”

She presented him with the folded piece of paper she had written on only fifteen minutes earlier, urging for him to take it.

“What’s this?” He asked, looking at the paper then back up at her with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“Just read it,” she murmured. “Later, or whenever, really.”

“Ok,” he said finally, smiling as she laughed nervously.

“Look, about everything,” she started, “today, with us. I know we haven’t had any time to talk, but-“

“Betty, I-”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head, suddenly terrified of what he was about to say. “Just read the letter.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her, for the first time in eight years. God, she was just as beautiful as she’d always been. Her green eyes glinted in the light of the moon which was blindingly bright tonight, the sky the clearest he’d ever seen it, the look on her face making him feel as vulnerable as he had done back when he was just sixteen with no effort at all.

“Ok,” he replied, a little hesitantly, taking the paper and searching her face for some kind of indication of what she was thinking. The wind blew a few stray pieces of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail.

“Night,” she uttered, leaving him in his own company once more. After a few seconds of just gaping at it, Jughead opened up the paper and let his eyes run over the ink-stained words before him. He held his breath, his lip trembling.

Jughead,

Firstly, I’m sorry that I took seven years to reply to this letter. Unfortunately, I was a little bit delayed. When we lost Toby, in whichever way it happened, something in me broke. And I think it broke for you, too. And instead of us putting our broken pieces together, we pushed them apart and allowed ourselves to break even further. I’m sorry for that.

The truth is that I knew I wasn’t marrying Archie from the moment I saw you on the terrace. I never loved him. In fact, I didn’t think I could ever love anyone again after you. I was scared, and I thought I might never see you again. But, here you are, and here we are.

Whatever happens next, at least we have that.

Betty

He looked back up, staring at nothing in particular as he processed what he’d read. He turned almost instantly, freezing on the spot as she leant against the door frame. Neither of them spoke. He took three steps towards her, his eyes burning into hers before lowering his gaze to her lips. There was that silence again, their faces so close they could feel each other’s breath. She reached out, placing a hand on his cheek and sighing. Allowing everything she’d been holding back to spill out in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Jug,“ she whispered.

Before she could say anything else, his lips were on hers. Finally. Time slipped away as if it were nothing, the both of them melting into each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world. They backed up into Betty’s room as the kiss deepened, everything starting to pass in a blur, kicking the door shut without pulling away from each other for a second. His hands were in her hair, then on her neck, hers wrapped around his leather jacket as she moved towards his chest and began to remove it. Her dressing gown fell onto the carpet.

They were against the door then, his lips running down her neck as she tilted her head back, breathing heavily as she closed her eyes. She’d forgotten how good he was at that. She grasped onto his hair, pulling his head back up to meet her lips once more. Before they knew it, they were on the bed, their bodies entangled and their breath quickening. The space between them now non-existent as they effortlessly let go of everything they’d been holding on to. As they put their broken pieces back together again. As they rediscovered themselves between moonlit sheets.

The sun was still rising when Betty’s eyes fluttered open the next morning; the familiar warmth of the body beside her serving as a reminder that it hadn’t all been a dream. Not this time. He was really here. She rested her head on her arm, using her other hand to push a small strand of hair out of his face. In this moment, there was nothing but perfect peace and serenity. In a motel room miles away from everything, lying beside the person she loved, watching the sun rise. He awoke as she ran her fingertips along his cheek, blinking and smiling as he stretched.

“Hey,” she chorused.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied, reaching over and kissing her slowly as he cupped her face and welcomed the warmth of her skin on his.

“As much as I really, really want to stay in bed with you all day,” she breathed, interlacing her fingers with his as her face started to fall, “we should probably get up and get going.”

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a finger under her chin and lifting her gaze back up, “whatever happens today, we’re going to face it together.”

She smiled as he slipped his hand under the covers and pulled her closer by the waist. “Plus, surely we have at least another ten minutes.”

Unable to hold in her laughter, she squealed as he flipped her over and began kissing her neck, then down to her chest. The sound of knocking on the door caused them to both jump out of their skin.

“Er- who is it?!” Betty cried, unable to catch her breath.

“It’s me,” Veronica called back, “are you almost ready to go?”

“Just a minute!” Betty scrambled out of bed, throwing on her t-shirt that was previously crumpled up on the floor on the other side of the room and holding her dressing gown shut as she opened the door only slightly.

“Is everything ok?” Veronica asked, trying to peek into the room as Betty shielded her view.

“Yeah, sorry,” she replied, panting slightly, “I just overslept.”

“Is someone in there?” Veronica mouthed, as Betty grinned and looked to the ground. Veronica’s mouth dropped open in shock, raising her eyebrows as Betty left the door ajar and walked out into the hall.

“It’s Jughead,” she whispered, giggling as Veronica squealed.

“Well I didn’t think it was the old man from the check in desk,” she laughed. “Although, I wouldn't have been surprised if his wife had managed to sneak in.”

“It just happened,” she gushed, “I don't know exactly what it means-”

“Betty, you two love each other and never stopped. You know exactly what it means,” she retorted, smiling as she did so, “and, as happy as I am for you, genuinely, I don’t mean to rush you but we need to go.”

“Yeah,” she shook her head, bringing herself back to the present moment and the reason they were even there in the first place. She couldn’t help but feel angry at herself for not giving it all of her attention amidst the craziness of the previous evening. “I know. You're right. Just give me five minutes, OK?”

“Ok,” Veronica replied, “I'll be in the car.”

When she re-entered the room, Jughead was already dressed and pulling on his black combat boots. He ran a hand through his scruffy hair as he looked up at her. “All good?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Veronica’s just waiting outside.”

“Are you OK?” He asked, walking over and placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

“I’m OK,” she smiled, “just scared, I guess.”

“I am too,” he confessed, pulling her into his chest as he rested his chin on her head.

She exhaled deeply, wrapping her arms around him and closing her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Hey,” he cried quite abruptly, pulling away from their embrace.

A look of fear washed over her face before she could stop it, her vulnerability creeping its way back in. “What?”

“Whatever happened to that horse?”

She was laughing then as she breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s what you’re thinking about in the middle of our moment?” She teased, before folding her arms playfully. “I texted Polly, she took him back.”

“Well, thank god for that.”

And then, just for a fleeting moment, they were just two kids in love. Broken apart and put back together, the southside serpent and the perfect girl next door, finding their way back to one another. Two kids who hadn’t grown up and who hadn’t felt the pain of losing the most precious thing they had ever been given the chance to love. Two kids who hadn’t felt the space of an empty bed or lost sight of who they really were. Just then, in an empty motel lit by the glow of the morning sun, they were those two kids again.

“Are you ready?”

Chapter Text

The drive to Silvercross was much longer than they had expected. After all of their phones had practically simultaneously died, they had resorted to trying to decipher Veronica’s old map stuffed in the glove box which, for the record, was almost unreadable. It was safe to say that none of them had the slightest clue what they were doing, but they were determined nonetheless.

“Give it to me,” Betty sighed, reaching out for the map before Jughead pulled it out of reach.

“I've got it,” he cried, squinting at the faded roads and street names before him.

“Well, you clearly haven’t,” she shot back playfully, “do you even know how to read a map?”

“Can we try and keep the domestics to a minimum back there, please?” Veronica laughed, as the two of them struggled for the map with a mixture of sighs and giggles. Despite of everything, they were happy, or at least on the right track. They couldn't deny it even if they had tried.

“Here, look,” Betty cried, pointing to a sign for Silvercross as it whizzed past them, “I think we’re close now.”

When they finally found the quaint, picturesque town of Silvercross, Betty pulled the crumpled up envelope out of her pocket.

“Here's the address,” she said, handing it over the front seat to Veronica as she inspected it and nodded.

“It must be around here somewhere,” she replied, “this town is pretty small.”

“A town even smaller than Riverdale,” Jughead murmured as he stared out of the window, “who’d have thought that was even possible.”

The welcome sign claimed that the town had a population of just 845. Betty so desperately wanted to stop the car, climb out and change it to 844. If this was really their son, he didn’t belong here, this wasn’t his home, and she’d die before she left without him. They all admired the scenery as they drove through the narrow streets, which were almost empty. The town was beautiful, there was no doubt about it; it looked like something out of a snow globe. Although, there was no snow today. In fact, it was the most gorgeous day they had seen in a long time.

“I think this is the street,” Veronica said suddenly, “what number is it again?”

“Number twenty-seven,” Jughead replied, opening the window and craning his head to get a better look. The sky was completely clear, there were birds chirping, and the sun’s warmth shone through the windows onto their faces. Betty wanted to see this as a good omen, as though the sun’s rays indicated that something positive was going to happen, but the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t seem to fade.

“Wait,” she suddenly froze, her gaze dropping to the floor as she stared in disbelief. The word had fallen out of her mouth before she could even stop it.

“What?” Jughead cried, turning back around swiftly, a hint of concern in his voice, “are you ok?”

“What do we say?” She replied, placing her eyes on him once more. “How do we go about this? We haven't even talked about it. What do we want? How can we even prove anything?”

“Betty-”

“This is crazy,” her breath started to quicken. “Our son died. I mourned for him. This is just crazy,” she repeated, everything suddenly hitting her so fast she couldn't even breathe. “We need to turn around.”

“Hey, listen,” Jughead said softly.

“No, Jughead,” she spat back, “you don’t understand. You weren’t there.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He replied, taken aback by her sudden change in tone.

“I dealt with everything by myself. I got rid of all of his things, I arranged his funeral; god, Jughead, you weren’t even at our damn son’s funeral.”

Jughead didn’t speak at first, instead he dropped her hand and nodded, unable to repress the mixture of anger and distress on his face. “You know what happened. Your parents manipulated this entire situation. They told me you didn’t want me at the funeral. Your dad gave me money to stay away.”

“What?” She interjected, “and you took it?”

“Of course I didn’t take it,” he argued, raising his voice slightly. “How are we back here? Is that really what you think of me?”

There was a silence, the air consumed by heated frustrations, floating up to the surface as the blonde-haired girl and the raven-haired boy took a moment to catch their breath. Everything was happening so quickly, neither of them could quite keep up.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, sinking into a feeling of self-loathing for having had snapped at him so abruptly.

He sighed, returning his gaze to the window, unsure of what to say next.

Veronica slowed the car until it came to a standstill, turning off the ignition and shifting in her seat. “Number twenty-seven,” she said, keeping her voice low and cautious, afraid of making things worse.

Both Betty and Jughead flinched slightly, looking at the house before them, then back at each other. It was a comfortable size, painted white with a red front door. There were matching red and white roses, daisies and tulips all growing around the front of the house, the grass radiating a gorgeous emerald green. There was a small football lying somewhat deflated beside the empty drive.

“Perhaps they’re out,” Betty uttered. “We don’t even know if they still live here.”

“You’re right,” Veronica replied, “but we need to try.”

Jughead studied Betty’s face, still a little wounded from their previous disagreement. “Do you want to go somewhere first?” He asked. “Have some food and talk through what we’re going to do?”

After a slight pause, Betty exhaled. “Ok,” she replied, “but I don’t know how much I’m going to be able to eat.”

There was a small cafe just a couple of blocks away, hidden behind a couple of trees and sat beside a public library that looked as if it had been out of use for a while. Once they had found a table at the back of the room next to a little vintage record player, the trio sat down, Veronica cupping a small mug of coffee, Jughead picking at a burger, and Betty deciding that she wanted nothing at all.

“Caffeine is going to go down a treat right now,” Veronica grinned, trying her best to make light of the situation. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” she added, a look of concern sweeping across her face, her eyes switching momentarily to Jughead who was looking down, much more silent than she was used to.

“I’m too nervous,” she muttered, as Veronica decided not to press the matter any further.

“I think we should just be upfront,” Jughead said suddenly, sitting up from his slouch. “If it’s really him then why shouldn’t we be? We’re his parents.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Veronica replied, “but we need to prove that it’s really him first. They could quite easily lie. We don’t want to freak them out.”

Jughead frowned, “but how are we going to do that?”

“I really don’t want to say this,” Betty intervened, her voice visibly shaking, “but I think we might have to call my mom.”

“What?” Jughead and Veronica replied in unison, a little louder than they had intended.

“I don’t know,” she confessed, her head dropping. “I just can’t think of how else to do this. I had this image in my head of us turning up at the door, scooping our son up into our arms and taking him home, but it was never going to be that easy.”

Veronica jumped at the sound of her phone beeping rather abruptly, retrieving it from where it was charging beside the table and crumpling her face up at the screen.

“What is it, V?” Betty asked, attempting to read her friend’s unexpectedly strange expression.

“Er- nothing,” she said, not removing her eyes from whatever had appeared on her phone. “I’ll just be a second.” And with that, Veronica stood up out of her seat and briskly walked outside.

Now that they were alone, and too exhausted to add another worry to their evergrowing list, Betty and Jughead could feel the silence weighing down on them with every passing second. Everything had switched so abruptly between them during the past half hour. They were those two kids again, if only fleetingly, and then suddenly they were brought back to reality. They were two fully grown adults, separated by seven years of hurt and lies and unspoken utterances.

“I really am sorry, Jug,” she finally breathed, her hands interlinked as she squeezed her knuckles anxiously, “about before, in the car.”

“Betts,” he replied, the familiar warmth of her old nickname making her feel safe all of a sudden, “it’s ok.”

“It's not,” she insisted, her eyes fixated on the table as she ran over the afternoon’s events in her head. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the situation, but it’s no excuse. I shouldn't have snapped like that. I’m not the only one who lost their son. It wasn’t fair.”

He looked at her then, reaching over and placing his hand on top of hers, causing her to exhale. How could he still be so good to her after the way she had lashed out?

“I get it.”

She shifted slightly in her seat, studying his face as he went back to picking at his burger, which he hadn’t taken a single bite out of since they’d sat down. Her voice was barely a whisper as she prepared for wherever the conversation was about to go next.

“What happened to you, Jug?”

He returned his eyes to hers, a little bewildered by the question. “What?”

“When you left. Where did you even go?”

“Toledo, initially,” he replied after a momentary pause. “I spent some time with my mom and Jellybean, and then I just kind of… drifted a bit. I lived in and out of motels and crappy shared apartments. I took work wherever and whenever I could. It wasn't easy, but I managed.”

She swallowed, looking down once more, knowing that she might be setting herself up to be hurt all over again, yet simultaneously desperate for the answers to the questions that had been burning in her head.

“Did you,” her voice faltered, “meet anyone? During those eight years?”

His body stiffened. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Does it matter?”

“Well, no,” she replied, “I guess it doesn't. I'm just curious. We missed out on such a huge chunk of each other’s lives. I didn't mean to pry.”

He took a long while to answer, as if it pained him, before responding.

“There was someone,” he said, the words like salt being poured into a wound that had never quite healed. But how could she be surprised? What she was feeling was surely not even comparable to how he must have felt when he found out that she was marrying Archie. She hated herself for it, for the biggest kick in the teeth she could’ve possibly given him.

“Eva,” he continued as she nodded.

“Really, Jug,” she interjected, feeling uneasy at the sound of an unfamiliar name, “I don't need all of the details. I understand.”

“We got married.”

Betty was speechless for a moment, the words hitting her like a truck. She struggled to catch her breath as she registered those three simple yet completely intricate words. The needle on the vinyl beside them was crackling.

“You- you what?”

“And filed for divorce a month later,” he added, unable to look at her again.

“What,” was the only word she could muster up, unable to comprehend what was coming out of his mouth. “You got married? You fell in love and you got married?”

“No,” he objected.

“That's what you just said.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“When I heard about your and Archie’s engagement, something in me just snapped.”

“So, naturally, you got married?” Her voice was calmer than it had been in the car, but she was still quite visibly frustrated, for what reason she wasn’t entirely sure. She had been no better, she knew it. She had been even worse, but that didn’t stop this sudden revelation from hurting her.

“Betty, please, can you stop turning everything into an argument?” He cried, a brief silence following as heads started to turn from the tables nearby.

“I think we underestimated how hard this would be,” she began, an exhausted laugh escaping her lips, the entire situation seeming utterly ridiculous all of a sudden.

“What?”

“This,” she breathed. “Us. We’re not teenagers anymore. We’ve lead completely different lives for the past eight years.”

She placed her head in her hands, allowing the truth to slowly settle in her mind.

“For the record,” he exclaimed, “no, I wasn’t in love with her.” She looked back at him, his words forcing butterflies in the pit of her stomach, fluttering around the dread. “Because she wasn’t you.”

Breaking them out of their momentary bubble, Veronica rushed back inside. “Guys,” she said, slightly out of breath, “I just had the weirdest phone call.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was Archie.”

Betty flinched at the sound of his name, looking down and feeling a wave of guilt rush over her.

“What did he want?” Jughead asked.

“To help,” she said, confused by her own words. “I told him not to come here, because let’s be honest that would be kind of weird, but he did tell me something.”

“What?”

Veronica sat back into her seat, leaning in so that their conversation could stay somewhat private. This was a small town, and who knew how fast news could travel, even if it was coming from complete strangers.

“He said that your dad had confided in him recently, wondering where your mom was going and thinking she might be having an affair. Naturally, he didn’t tell you because he was afraid of upsetting you.”

Jughead took a moment before nodding, putting the pieces together, “but she was coming here,” he added, “to see a child called James, and that means that your dad presumably had no idea that she had stayed in contact.”

“Exactly.”

“Ok, but why would she keep it from him?” Betty wondered.

“Guilt, I guess,” Jughead offered, “perhaps mixed with an element of fear. I know that they’re both at fault here, trust me, but maybe you were right. Maybe calling your mom wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

“I agree, Betty,” Veronica added, “I think she might actually want to do the right thing for once. I think we’ve got a much better shot with her on our side.”

“Ok,” Betty decided, desperate for a lifeline, “I’ll call her.”

“Let’s get back in the car first,” Veronica started, “It’s way too stuffy in here.”

“You guys go on ahead,” Betty said, “I’m just going to grab a bottle of water.”

She retrieved Veronica’s empty coffee cup, clearing up had become a habit after working at Pop’s for so long, as she made her way over to the counter, watching her old best friend and her old boyfriend leaving the room with a quiet ding of the bell above the door. There was a small queue, so she stood and let her eyes wander around the room, tapping on the cup with her pastel pink nails and sighing. What a mess, she thought to herself.

As she waited, beginning to get lost in her own thoughts, a voice pulled her out of her daydream, startling her as it did so.

“Sorry, can I get my bouncy ball, please? It’s just there beside you.”

“Of course,” she replied, instinctively bending down to salvage it and smiling as she turned to face the childlike voice she had heard seconds earlier. Suddenly, her whole body seized up. The small button nose before her sat comfortably between two piercing green eyes, a tuft of dark curls shaping a narrow, tanned face as the boy smiled and held out his hand.

“Thank you,” he beamed.

All she could hear next was the sound of an empty coffee cup shattering on the hardwood floor beneath her.

Chapter Text

“So, did you guys talk?” Veronica cried as she sauntered towards the car, glancing back for a second.

Jughead shrugged as he followed. “We did. It’s just… complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?” She laughed, stopping still and turning to face him, causing him to jump at her sudden change in demeanour. She paused. “Listen, if I tell you something, will you not tell Betty?”

He raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. “I guess that depends on what it is.”

“When Archie called,” she started, “that wasn’t all that he said.”

“What do you mean? What else did he say?”

She looked back at the door that they had just exited, making sure that Betty was still comfortably inside. 

“The wedding was a sham,” she continued, as Jughead stared in disbelief and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Literally, everyone has been lying to her.”

“That son of a bitch,” Jughead spat, looking towards the sky as he shook his head, "but I can't say I'm hugely surprised."

Veronica tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “I’m the last person to stick up for Archie Andrews, but I feel as though he might have been put in an impossible situation. Hal Cooper is clearly much more twisted than we gave him credit for.”

“I can’t believe he would do this. Why did he hate me so much?”

“I mean, it’s weird for me now too,” she gulped, “I thought Archie had ended things with me because he genuinely was in love with Betty, but now-”

All of a sudden, an ear-splitting smash and a scream ripped them out of their secret conversation mixed with a mirroring of confusion and distress.

“What the hell,” Jughead exclaimed, bounding back towards the café before he even had a chance to think twice, terrified that Betty was hurt. Before he had even reached the door, she shot out as quickly as she could, bashing into him as she did so. “Betty!” He cried, grabbing onto her arm as she tried forcefully to pull away.

“Let go, Jug,” she bellowed, squirming underneath his grasp, “where did he go!?”

“Who?!”

“Toby,” she replied, as if the answer was obvious, “I saw him.”

“What do you mean you saw him?” Veronica interrupted, a concerned look on her face as she rushed over.

“He was in there, just now,” she cried frantically, “where did he go?!”

“B, are you sure-“

“Of course I’m sure,” she argued. “I’m not crazy.”

“Ok, Betty, slow down,” Veronica said steadily, trying to keep her thoughts as logical as she could without hurting her best friend in the process, “was anyone with him?”

“A woman, possibly,” she shook her head, “I don’t know. It all happened so fast. There were people all around me and I didn’t even see which way they went.”

Jughead was pacing, clutching his temple as he digested the abrupt realisation of what she was saying. “It was really him? You’re sure?”

She stepped closer, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as she looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “It was him, Jug.”

“Then we need to go,” he declared, still holding onto her hand as they hastily made their back over to the car. People were beginning to stare, seemingly they had caused quite the commotion in the space of less than a minute. Betty reached over to grab Veronica’s phone as they drove away from the gaping that surrounded them, not even paying attention to the speed limit, anxiously dialling a number she had known off by heart for the majority of her life.

“Betty, is that you?” A hysterical voice answered almost instantly.

“Mom,” she replied, cutting her off as she began to sob. “Please, listen to me. I know about Toby.”

“Betty, I’m so sorry,” she wept, “I’m so, so sorry-“

“Look, please, we don’t have much time.”

“Where are you?”

“Silvercross,” she replied.

Alice was lost for words for a brief moment, struggling to catch her breath. “What? How did you-“

“Mom, please,” she demanded, “we need your help.“

"Betty, I-"

"What the hell is going on?!" 

Just as the words left her lips, they approached the same street of the house with the red door where they had been less than an hour earlier and slowed down, each of them staring in disbelief at the image just a few yards away from them.

“Oh my god,” Jughead croaked, as they eyed up the familiar car parked out front, and the familiar woman stood beside it. She turned, her eyes widening as her arm dropped to her side. Betty flung the car door open and jumped out before it had even had a chance to stop.

“Honey,” Alice said quietly, her eyes occupied by guilt and remorse as her daughter made her way closer. “We should go somewhere to talk.”

She shook her head in response, looking up to the sky as she covered her mouth before clenching her fists at her sides as she always did when the darkness threatened to creep back in. “No, mom, we’re not going anywhere. Enough of the games, enough of the lies; I want my son back.”

Alice’s face dropped. “Betty,” she whispered, “It’s not as easy as that-“

“I am his mother, how dare you take that away from me.” They both began to cry, Betty not even realising that Jughead had gotten out of the car until he had taken a hold of her hands, covering her scars, and pulled her into his chest.

“Please,” he said calmly, closing his eyes and exhaling through his nose, his attention switching to Alice once more, “we need answers, and we need them now.”

She nodded, the tears seamlessly falling down her pink blushed cheeks, searching for the right words as her gaze interchanged between the two of them.

“Eight years, mom,” Betty said, her voice a little weaker than it had been before, “how could you have hidden all of this from me for that amount of time? You saw me cry myself to asleep, I became a different person, I was numb; there were days when I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

“I know,” Alice bawled, unable to look her in the eye as she replayed the bad days over in her head, the ones that she had tried so hard to repress. The ones where she would knock on her daughter’s door, urging her to eat something, then return a few hours later to see she hadn’t even moved an inch, the food left cold and utterly untouched.

“What was so bad that you allowed this to happen?” Betty continued. “What did you do?”

Alice shifted on the spot, looking down as if ashamed, actively avoiding the question she had been presented with. Suddenly, everything was moving so quickly, as though it were a domino effect that none of them could control.

“I know that you may never forgive me,” she breathed, “but it’s true. Your son is alive.”

Betty closed her eyes as she sank further into Jughead’s chest, the inevitable confirmation only worsening the feeling in the pit of her stomach. She held onto him and he held onto her even tighter. Her breath deepened as he stroked her hair in an attempt to soothe her slightly. There were a few moments of utter silence, nobody quite knowing what to say or do next.

“Can we meet him?” He asked at last, his voice breaking as the words left his lips.

Before Alice could provide a response, the red front door had swung open, and a woman in her late fifties stood still in her tracks. Taking a few moments to process the image before her, she made it down the steps and cautiously walked closer to the small gathering of people on her front lawn.

“Marie,” Alice uttered.

“Alice,” she replied, “this is quite inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?” Betty interjected. “What’s inappropriate is you keeping our son from us for eight years.”

“You don’t remember me, do you?” She replied, keeping her voice low.

The silence that followed spoke more than any amount of words could have done, because, no, Betty did not remember a thing, and she didn't even know what she was supposed to be remembering at all.

“Marie is my sister,” Alice established, wiping the remains of tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, the four words startling and unexpected. “You and Polly spent all of your summers here until you were around seven years old.”

She looked at the house again, as if seeing it for the first time, in an entirely new light, then back at the woman she could’ve sworn she had never seen in her life before now. There was an immediate feeling of nostalgia creeping its way in, as if it had been waiting for permission to come out. “Wh- what? What are you talking about? No, we didn’t,” the declaration sounding more like a question as she began to doubt her own reminiscences.

“If you come inside, we can talk,” Marie added, nervously looking around as to make sure the neighbours weren’t watching them and judging from afar.

Betty drew her attention to Jughead, the both of them tinged with an identical feeling of sadness and confusion. After a few moments, he nodded, resting a hand on her back as they hesitantly followed inside, Veronica waiting back in the car and looking down when they momentarily glanced her way.

“Where is he?” Betty asked as soon as they had shut the front door behind them. Her hands were shaking and her heart was pounding against her chest.

Marie flinched at her impulsive enquiry. “He’s in his room, but please, we need to talk first. This is going to be a lot for him, too.”

“Ok,” she replied hesitantly, as they headed further inside. Upon entering the living room, which was filled with photographs in perfectly dusted frames on perfectly dusted shelves, Betty felt that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 “You can look at them, if you’d like,” Marie murmured, prompting Betty to edge a little closer and study all of the years that she’d missed out on in the form of captured memories. Jughead retreated to the back of the room, cautious to join her; cautious to even step a centimetre closer.

Betty allowed her eyes to run over the faded snapshots of her baby as a toddler, taking his first steps, riding his first bike, standing tall in his uniform on his first day of school. He looked just like his father, there was no doubt about it, but those piercing green eyes that mirrored her own were what she’d remembered the most. A tear spilled down her cheek as her breath caught in her throat.

“Please,” she breathed, calming herself down after her previous outburst outside, her exhaustion displaying in her trembling tone, “can you just tell us what’s going on? Why don’t I remember you? Why don't I remember any of this?”

“Sit down,” Alice said softly, Betty’s eyes flickering to Jughead, who was leaning against the door in his leather jacket just like he had done the day of her wedding. He looked just as scared, if not worse. She perched at the end of an arm chair beside the half empty sofa her mother resided on, hesitant to get too close, and she placed her hands in her lap. She stayed silent, picking at the skin around her fingernails as she looked at her mother and listened.

“Nobody except your father knows this, but I grew up on the Southside,” she began, prompting a sudden turn of the head from Jughead, before she took a deep breath. “I lived with my parents and my sister, Marie. We didn't have much money, hardly anything at all, actually, and it wasn’t long before I found myself caught up in alcohol, drugs, violence; you name it. I did it."

She sighed, keeping her head down. "I was reckless. I got myself involved with the wrong crowd from as young as I can remember. I ended up falling in love with a Southside serpent, and, fleetingly, I became one myself.”

Betty’s mouth opened slightly, her gasp silent and consuming, the intense amounts of unforeseen information hitting her at full force.

“I don't even know who that person is anymore,” Alice muttered, her eyes shooting up and then falling back down before she continued.

“I was only sixteen when I found out that I was pregnant. It wasn't planned and I was terrified; the only person I’d initially told was Marie. My boyfriend at the time didn't want to know, and he had ran a mile before I’d even had the chance to tell him.” She closed her eyes to repress her tears as she exhaled deeply. “I met your father shortly after, and he brought me over to the Northside at an attempt to give me a new life. I got rid of my baby, and I shed my past as quickly as I possibly could. I blocked it all out. I became Alice Cooper, the perfect wife and the perfect mother of the perfect family.”

“Mom-“

“There's not a single day I don't think about it,” she confessed. “When your father and I got married, we had an image to uphold. Your sister had already shamed us once, and your father had been panicking ever since you started dated Jughead, considering his background. When he became a serpent, and when you fell pregnant, something in your dad just snapped. It was like he looked at you and he saw me. The me that I used to be. And he did not like that person.”

“Mom,” Betty said again as she began to cry quietly. “I had no idea. About your past. About any of it.”

“He wanted to take Toby away somehow,” she continued. “He thought that if he got rid of him, and drove Jughead away, he could still mould your life into the way he wanted it. He threatened me and he blackmailed me, saying that he would expose my past and ruin me if I ever told you, or anyone for that matter. He manipulated me, and made me believe that it was the right thing to do, and I think, in some twisted way, he was doing it because he loved you.”

She looked up, finally, her eyes pained. “But I know now that it wasn't right. I knew it as soon as I saw you in your wedding dress. As soon as I saw you and Jughead together before the ceremony. I had to do something, albeit eight years too late, and I didn't care about myself anymore. I still don’t. He can do his worst. There are absolutely no excuses – not for either of us. Toby came here because I didn't know what else to do or where else to go. Hal thought a family on the other side of the country had adopted him, but I lied. The reason you don't remember this place is because your dad didn't approve. He hated all of my family, because of where we'd come from, and he made me stop bringing you here. Polly remembered fragments, but you seemed to forget pretty quickly.”

Marie handed Betty a framed photograph, one she hadn’t initially spotted. Indeed, it was herself and Polly, next to Marie, in front of the bright red door, dated twenty years earlier. Her lip trembled. It was true. All of it.

“And, James?” Jughead asked, straightening his frame as he cleared his throat.

“His name is still Toby,” Alice replied. “We just used the name James in the letters in case your father found them. We figured it would be easier to cover up if it ever happened.”

“He knows you exist,” Marie added as she placed the photograph back in its place. “I've always told him who you are. He’s seen pictures and he knows you’re his parents. He’s just a little too young to fully understand it yet. That’s why I don’t want to rush any of this.”

There were a few moments of silence as they processed everything they'd just been told, broken and mismatched puzzle pieces coming together to create a bigger picture that neither of them had ever imagined. Although the truth still hurt, things were beginning to make sense, if only ever so slightly. Neither of them knew which to address first, or even how to do so.

“We can come back tomorrow,” Jughead uttered, trying to separate his conflicting emotions from what was rational. “We want to see him but, if it’s easier, you know, for him,” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” Betty added after a while, her voice just a whisper. Overwhelmed by how many words she wanted to say, unable to express them all at once. “He's the most important person here.”

Marie nodded, blinking as she looked down, a bittersweet smile appearing only faintly. “Thank you. I think that might be best. I’ll talk to him first. Prepare him. Try to explain things a little better.”

“Ok,” Betty whispered, taking a few moments to allow everything to sink in, struggling to comprehend how she had forgotten seven whole summers from her childhood, wanting to forgive her mother but wondering how she ever could. 

"I know you're angry and upset and confused," Marie added, "and those feelings are completely justified. But your mom never wanted to hurt you. Neither of us did."

All that followed was a nod, an acceptance, a tiny feeling of moving forward. They talked for at least an extra hour, both Betty and Jughead constantly aware of the fact that their son was only up a single flight of stairs. Betty had to do everything in her power not to run to him and hold him in her arms again, to kiss his head and do what she was always meant to do. To be a mother. When they finally left, saying their quiet and careful goodbyes, Alice followed them, picking up the pace slightly as she watched a blonde ponytail bouncing further and further away from her. “Betty, Jughead; wait.”

“I’m so sorry,” she stuttered, looking at the both of them with regret and sincerity. “There are no words to explain it. No amount of excuses. I just hope someday you might be able to understand, and you might be able to forgive me.”

“I just need some time,” Betty admitted, receiving an understanding nod in response, swallowing as she asked the question she’d been trying so desperately to avoid. “Does Dad know? That we’re here? Does he know anything?”

“No,” Alice replied firmly, wincing at the thought. “I'll talk to him eventually, but I think it might be best to leave him out of it for now.”

Betty let out a faint smile, keeping her hands to herself but allowing a flicker of warmth to fleetingly appear in her eyes. She felt for her mom, she ached for the stories of her past that she had known nothing about, and she wanted to forgive her, but she knew that she wasn’t ready. Not yet. "Ok," she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And as they drove away, she could've sworn she saw a little head peeking trough the curtains of the window on the top floor. 

 ----------------------------

After returning to the motel, Jughead had wandered off to a nearby riverbank in order to clear his head, before his phone had started to ring. Once he had answered, talked, listened, and hung up, he sat and inhaled the solitude that he had been so desperately craving after the craziest day of his entire life, trying to digest the abrupt changes that were coming from all angles all at once. He wanted to stay strong for Betty, but he was scared. He couldn’t even remember how to be a father, and now, suddenly, he had to be. The whole thing had just spilled out before him, and he had gone into a slight state of shock. For more reasons than one.

“Hey,” Betty said softly, walking over from a small path in the distance, “I was wondering where you'd got to.”

Jughead glimpsed up from his depth of thought, his face softening as Betty slipped in the space beside him.

“Yeah, sorry,” he replied, “I just needed a moment.”

Hooking her arm through his, she rested her head on his shoulder and admired the fragments of the sunlight glistening along the lake before them.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, before he turned his head slightly and kissed her hair. "You know, aside from the obvious?

“A girl called Betty Cooper, mainly,” he replied sheepishly.

“Oh, really?” She teased. “She sounds like a catch.”

“She’s not half bad,” he replied, smiling before looking down at his hands.

Betty sat up, studying his face and placing her hand over his, causing him to look back up at her. “I think it’ll be ok, you know? Tomorrow. I know it’s going to be overwhelming, and honestly I’m still wrapping my head around the whole thing, but-”

“Listen, Betty-“

“Even though it’s been eight years, and we’ve missed a hell of a lot, I think it’s comforting to know that we have a life time to make up for it. I called Polly and she remembers Marie. She remembers the summers we spent there. Strangely, it all adds up. I know it's a lot and it's going to be really difficult, but I just don’t want to be angry anymore, Jug, you know? I don't think it's fair on him. Or us."

“Betty,” he repeated.

“What?”

“Eva called.”

“Eva?” She crumpled her face in confusion, the name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as she realised who he was referring to. “Oh, Eva.”

He looked down, almost regretting bringing it up, so desperate to stay in their little bubble for as long as possible. “Yeah.”

“Did you tell her anything?”

“Not yet,” he muttered.

“Yet?”

“I need to go back and sort a few things.”

Betty’s body seized up, swallowing as she looked towards the floor. “Oh. When?”

“As soon as I can. As soon as things have settled a bit.”

“Ok,” she mumbled, “well, are you coming back?”

“What? Yes,” he insisted, interlacing his fingers with hers, “of course I am.”

“We can’t just introduce ourselves to Toby and then run off.”

“I know that.”

She paused. “What else did she say?”

Jughead flinched, sighing as he returned his gaze to the water. “Nothing. Why?”

“You forget how well I know you,” she said. “I can tell when you’re lying.”

He dropped her hand, his expression becoming visibly distressed. “It’s nothing, Betty.”

“Ok,” she said, before allowing the silence to pass naturally, too exhausted for another argument. Wanting nothing less than to talk about the boy she loved’s soon-to-be-ex wife.

“Well, tomorrow’s the big day,” she declared, brushing off the strange atmosphere that had just appeared out of nowhere. “I guess we should go to bed.”

“Hey,” he choked as she stood up and smoothed her skirt down, a hint of regret in his voice for the way he’d snapped at her.

“Yeah?”

He swallowed, looking at the beauty and serenity of the lake, then back up at the face that had been permanently imprinted in his brain for as long as he could recall. The air was warm, with just a slight breeze brushing against their cheeks. “I love you, you know?”

She was taken aback, not expecting the words to come out of his mouth so suddenly, especially after how up and down they had been for the previous couple of days. She took a few seconds to catch her breath, the cinematic warmth of the sunset painting their faces a pink and orange hue.

“I was starting to worry,” she smiled playfully, kneeling down and raising her hand to stroke his cheek. “I love you, too. And I want nothing more than to make this work.”

He returned the smile, tinted with something melancholic, planting a soft kiss on her lips and absorbing every last second of it. Every last second of her.

“Are you coming to bed?” She breathed.

“You go ahead,” he replied softly, “I’ll be right there.”

“Ok,” she smiled tentatively, knowing something wasn’t right but trying so hard to ignore it, almost considering just staying put and making the most of every moment they had together, before turning on her heel and retreating to the motel. Jughead watched after her and bit his lip, the remnants of a second life creeping its way into his mind as he replayed Eva’s earlier words in his head.

The words that wouldn’t budge. The words that were tearing into him at every passing moment. The words that suddenly made an impossible situation even more complicated than it already was.

He was sinking and only one hand was reaching in to save him, whilst the other was pulling him even further under. He couldn’t even stop it. He was drowning.

"I’m pregnant.”

Chapter Text

That night had largely contrasted the one that had come before. Jughead had slipped into bed beside her much later than she had anticipated, leaning over and very softly kissing her shoulder, prompting her to turn around and face him.

“Hey, did I wake you up?” He whispered, a little taken aback by her sudden movement.

“No,” she replied, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Sorry,” was all he said back.

After a slight pause, she edged closer and began to stroke his arm, frantically searching his vacant eyes.

“Talk to me,” she breathed.

He exhaled deeply, shifting to lie on his back as she propped herself up on her forearm.

“Juggie,” she said, “please.”

There was something unreadable etched upon his face, an apathetic and absent expression that Betty couldn’t seem to fully digest. Something had happened on the phone with Eva, something that he was actively hiding from her, and she so desperately wanted him to open up to her, terrified of being shut out completely; terrified of getting her heart broken all over again.

“I’m scared of losing you,” he mused quietly, closing his eyes as the words fell out of his mouth, “and I think if I tell you then I will.”

She sighed, not allowing her gaze to leave his face as she reached out to hold his hand in hers.

“You’re not going to lose me,” she whispered. “Why would you?”

He opened his eyes then, looking at her with as much melancholy and exhaustion as he could muster. This girl who he had loved for the majority of his life, the one he had waited for since he was the little boy in the beanie stood behind the red-haired boy who had the attention of the prettiest girl in the world. The one who had fallen for him when they had both least expected it. It just wasn’t our time, he’d told himself for the past eight years. It was never their time. Perhaps it still wasn’t.

“Eva’s pregnant.”

Betty’s jaw fell in astonishment almost instantly as Jughead sat up to perch on the edge of the bed and place his head in his hands. She could hardly catch her breath as her eyes darted into the space of nothingness, the severity of those two words conjuring up a swarm of bees in her stomach.

“Wh-wow,” she uttered, “I... wasn't expecting you to say that.”

After a while, she took note of how he had distanced himself over to the other side of the bed and instinctively placed a hand on his arm, her affection taking him off guard as she edged closer, rubbing his cold skin with her thumb in silence for a while. He turned his head and looked at her, his face masked with a melancholy vulnerability that she had only ever seen once before.

“I need to go back,” he whispered, almost as if it were a question rather than a declaration.

“Yes,” she said after a while, her breath catching in her throat, “you do.”

She cupped his face and wiped the remnants of a tear that ran down his cheek. She had never seen him cry before, not like this. When they’d been told that Toby had died, Jughead hadn’t cried, not once. He had fallen completely numb; when Betty looked into his eyes she couldn’t see him anymore. The truth was that she’d lost him long before he’d left. Now eight years had passed. Toby was here, and she was here, but he was gone before he’d even had a chance to stay.

They had barely uttered another word for the rest of the night, instead lying in the middle of the bed together and embracing each other’s warmth, each other’s scent and each other’s breath for as long as they could as they fell in and out of consciousness. There was no need to talk. This was enough. Something about it all felt very final, and the harsh reality of what was happening was ever present in the air. When they had awoken the next morning, they were naturally a little more distant than usual. They had agreed that Jughead would go to the house to meet his son, the three of them would spend the day together, and Jughead would leave shortly after. He had promised her that he would come back after a maximum of a couple of weeks, but the voice of doubt in her head wouldn’t stop screaming at her. You lost him once, who’s to say you won’t lose him again.

-

“Hi, there,” Marie smiled, opening the door to the two of them as they stood nervously waiting after the initial ring of the doorbell. “Come in.”

“Is my mom here yet?” Betty asked quietly as they stepped inside. “I was kind of hoping to talk to her.”

“She’s not,” Marie replied, a glimmer of a look of confusion sweeping over her face, her eyes switching to Jughead to see if everything was ok. “She’s meeting us back at the house later on.”

“Ok,” she muttered. Jughead didn’t speak, instead he lingered awkwardly in the back, his nerves beginning to get the better of him.

“Well, Toby’s upstairs,” Marie began, “you can go up. He’s expecting you. Do you know where you’re going to take him?”

“Yeah,” Jughead croaked, “just to the local diner round the corner.”

“Great,” she replied, “he really loves the burgers in there.”

Marie stayed in the living room, allowing them their alone time, as Betty and Jughead approached the little bedroom at the top of the stairs, to the right with the white door plastered in stickers of various cartoon characters. Despite already briefly seeing him once, Betty was naturally just as nervous as Jughead. What were they going to say? Was he going to be mad? Was he going to push them away? Reaching out, Betty gave Jughead’s hand a little squeeze. They looked at each other, exchanging a smile of acceptance and warmth, despite everything and despite the lingering uncertainty, they were in this together. They took a deep breath and gently pushed open the door.

He was sat with his back turned initially, sketching in a journal, crayons scattered across a small desk. Neither of them took a step closer, it was almost as if they had forgotten how to breathe for a brief moment, terrified of making a sound, terrified of ruining this perfect moment of just watching their son from afar; creating, living, breathing; unable to tear their eyes away for even a second.

“Hi,” Jughead said finally, keeping a firm grasp on Betty’s hand as he did so.

He turned instantly, a little taken aback at the strange voice, yet his face lit up as soon as he saw them. Their hearts were in their throats. Before anyone could say anything else, he had ran over and thrown himself into an embrace on their legs.

“I knew you’d come for me,” he cried. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

That was enough to make them cry, exhaling with relief, overwhelmed by his response as Betty bent down and cupped her son’s face in her hands.

“Look at you,” she choked through sobs of contentment, her green eyes burning into his as her lips curved into a smile. “Of course we’re here.”

She pulled him into her, holding her son for the first time in eight years and never wanting to let go. She placed her hand on the back of his head, closing her eyes and letting her tears silently fall down her cheeks. Her baby, who she had carried for nine months, who she thought had taken his last breath all of those years ago, was here as if he’d never even left. His little eyes flickered up to Jughead after a few moments, that warm smile returning as he did so.

“Hey, bud,” he said, his voice broke as he leaned into the embrace, all of the anger and frustration for the years they had lost melting away. In that perfect moment, somehow, it didn’t even matter anymore.

When they arrived at the diner, which was just a ten minute walk away, they sat themselves in a small booth at the back, and it all felt too familiar. Betty had opted for a vanilla milkshake and fries, whilst both Jughead and Toby had a burger each and matching chocolate milkshakes. Betty couldn’t help but smile as she sat opposite them, observing how similar they were in not only their looks but also their little mannerisms.

“You know, we have a place just like this back in Riverdale,” she declared as his eyes lit up.

“Yeah, Pop does the best burgers in the world,” Jughead smirked as he took a bite out of his own, “but maybe I'm biased.”

“Really?” Toby beamed, his face full of complete purity and innocence. “Can you take me one day?”

They both flinched ever so slightly, having not discussed things in too much detail with Marie just yet. Of course, they were his parents, but he'd spent the first eight years of his life in Silvercross with his aunt who he had naturally grown very attached to. They looked at each other briefly, unsaid complications switching between the both of them. Betty wasn't even sure what was really happening between the two of them since last night’s revelation.

“One day,” Betty smiled with a sweet sincerity, “for sure.”

“Listen, Toby,” she started, as Toby looked up at her once more whilst taking a bite of his burger. “We know this all may be a little bit confusing for you right now, but we want you to know that you have always been so loved and so wanted, and, if you'll let us, we really would like to be a part of your life.”

Jughead looked at her from across the table, his eyes filled with an unconditional love mixed with an uncontrollable sorrow. If only they could stay here, in this booth, and be a family. If only they could freeze a moment so it didn’t have to end. If only he didn't have to leave. Her eyes caught his and he smiled, but something about it made her want to cry.

“I’d like that a lot,” Toby replied, and suddenly their broken pieces were starting to rebuild, if only ever so slightly, and for the first time in the whole day, they’d completely forgotten that come tomorrow Jughead would be gone.

The rest of the afternoon flowed effortlessly as if they'd never even been apart. Anyone would've looked at them and thought that they were the perfect little family. Toby was smart and intuitive and creative, he was outgoing and charming and everything they could've ever hoped he would grow up to be. He was so much like them in so many little ways, despite never having known them, adopting Jughead’s humour and wit, paired with Betty’s kindness and determination. He had the strength of the both of them, just as Jughead had said all of those years ago in the hospital waiting room. He was truly a special kid, which made the whole situation even more bittersweet.

When they dropped him back to the house after another two milkshakes and a good hour and a half of chatting away, learning his favourite food, TV shows, music, his best friends at school and his ambitions as an artist; he gave them both another huge embrace and smiled as if he was the happiest kid in the world. He was a complete ray of sunshine, and they couldn’t believe how lucky they were.  

“Thank you for the best day,” he cried, holding out a piece of paper that he'd had folded in his jacket pocket.

“What's this?” Jughead asked, smiling as he unfolded a slightly crumpled drawing.

“It's us,” Toby exclaimed, as Betty peered over his shoulder and began to tear up at the sight of a drawing of the three of them stood together entitled ‘Mom, Dad, and Toby.’

“Thank you,” Jughead choked, unable to think of any more words to express how he was feeling. He wasn’t the type of guy to typically show his emotions, but his guard was well and truly down this afternoon.

As Toby said another sweet goodbye and ran back inside, they watched after him and felt a serenity and warmth that they had begun to forget the feel of.

“He's wonderful,” Betty praised, “thank you.”

Marie returned the smile. “For what?”

“For raising him,” she said. “His character really is a testament to you.”

“I appreciate that, Betty,” she replied, her eyes softening, “but Toby is all you.”

Betty was grateful for that, noting just how kind Marie had been for the past couple of days. She paused for a moment, debating whether to potentially ruin the moment and speak what was on her mind and what had been on her mind for most of the day. She took a deep breath.

“How did they do it?”

Marie looked a little confused at the abrupt question, still smiling, but unsure. “Do what?”

“My mom and dad. How did they make us think he was dead?” Betty asked quietly. “The doctor even said so. How could they have possibly pulled that off? It’s something I just can’t get out of my mind.”

As Marie went to open her mouth in response, albeit a little bit speechless, the front door opened and a familiar face appeared. She swallowed, making her way towards them cautiously as she allowed the truth to bubble back up to the surface.

“Mom,” Betty cried, “I didn’t know you were here yet.”

“Did you enjoy your afternoon?”

“Yes,” she replied, “it was perfect.”

Alice shifted on the spot, her face visibly changing as she thought of what to say next.

“There was another baby in intensive care that night,” she began as if the words were just spilling out, keeping her voice low as she closed her eyes. “He’d been left behind in a blanket outside of the hospital, his parents hadn’t even left a note.”

“But,” Betty uttered after a pause, “how did you-”

“Your father is clever, Betty,” she continued. “He was the one who found the baby, he rushed him inside, he told them that you were the baby’s parents, and that Toby had been abandoned. So, we offered to take him in.”

“You switched them around? How?”

“Your father is quite powerful in Riverdale, he had the entire staff in that place wrapped around his little finger. They’d much rather have had the whole thing kept quiet instead of having another scandal tainting the town’s name.”

Betty blinked back tears as she thought about the baby that they had buried. The baby who they had cried over. He wasn’t theirs, but he was still a baby. And the revelation was no less heartbreaking.

“That’s why you were gone when we left?” She muttered. “Because you were stealing my baby?”

Alice shook her head desperately, silently begging for her daughter to look at her.

“Betty, please-”

“Ok, mom,” she said calmly, exhausted by the fighting, yet still unable to meet her eyes. “It’s done. It can’t be undone.”

“Have you spoken to him?” Jughead intervened, causing the both of them to turn. “Hal, I mean?”

“Yes,” Alice replied, her gaze fixated on the ground as her lip quivered. “I phoned him this morning.”

“And?”

“And… we’re getting a divorce.”

Betty raised her eyebrows. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting today, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“It’s time,” she continued. “It’s been time for the past ten years.”

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

She looked up, tears threatening to spill. “Are you?”

“You’re my mother,” Betty replied, finally meeting eyes and holding the gaze, “I still want you to be happy.”

-

Betty and Jughead had decided to take a long walk back to the motel, it had been a beautiful day, and it was developing into a beautiful evening. They were desperate to take advantage of whatever time they still had together, admiring the blushing hue that was beginning to engulf the sky as they stepped further and further towards where they would have to part.

“He looks so much like you,” she smiled faintly, inhaling the fresh, warm air.

“Maybe,” he replied, “but he's his mother’s son.”

“Oh, yeah?” She giggled. “Why do you say that?”

“Because,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “he's smart and he's kind and he has this overwhelming warmth to him. He makes you smile even when you're uncertain and afraid. That's you. All over.”

She smiled, looking down and brushing his hand with hers to prompt their fingers to intertwine.

“You're sweet,” she replied, “but you make me feel all of those things, too, you know?”

His eyes softened. “He’s something else, isn’t he?”

“That he is,” she breathed.

“Promise him that I’ll call him, and that I’ll see him as soon as I can.”

“I promise, Jug.”

“Ready?” Veronica called, pulling them out of their bubble that they had been so desperate to stay inside as she sat in the car waiting with a grin. “Your very own personal taxi has arrived.”

How had they made it back to the motel already? The half hour walk had consisted of nothing but gushing over their son, and rightfully so. They’d completely lost track of time, and suddenly the reality of it running out was overwhelming.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” he said back, not taking his eyes off of Betty as they stood opposite one another and drank in the final fragments of the most perfect day they had ever experienced. There were so many words, there always was, but they just couldn’t seem to find the right ones.

“Well, good luck,” she said suddenly, pulling him into an embrace and burying her head into his neck.

“I'm going to miss you,” he whispered, before hesitantly pulling away.

“Drive safe,” she replied, giving his hand a squeeze as he nodded and went to turn towards the car.

She couldn’t deny that the sight of him walking away from her was tearing her apart. She had decided to stay in the motel for a while longer whilst she figured things out. Marie had offered her the spare bedroom, saying that she was more than welcome, but she didn’t want to make things too strange or overwhelming for Toby too early on. Not only that, but she wasn’t sure how to respond to his inevitable questioning over where his father was. Not just yet, anyway. Because she wasn’t even sure she knew the answer herself.

“Oh,” Jughead said, immediately dragging her out of her trance, “one more thing.”

He bounded back to his original spot, his lips meeting hers, his thumb softly grazing her jaw as she placed her hand on his cheek and sank into the soft and tender kiss. As they pulled away, they rested their foreheads against one another and closed their eyes.

“Why does it feel like we’re saying good bye?” She laughed shakily.

He opened his eyes, studying the face that he knew off by heart and had known off by heart for the majority of his life, shaking his head as tears began to form.

“Are we?” She continued, her tone more serious this time, suddenly panicked by his silence.

“I’ll call you,” he whispered finally, looking down, before returning his gaze back to her and forcing himself to smile. “I love you, Betty Cooper.”

And as he slowly let go of her hand and walked away, she felt something stabbing inside of her. Because he hadn't answered the question. And the look in his eyes had haunted her for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

The first week was the hardest. Betty had figured that it was best give Jughead as much time and space as he needed, but when she’d heard nothing for ten days she had naturally started to worry a little bit, especially as he’d originally claimed that he would be no longer than two weeks. She had replayed his now quite unconvincing “I’ll call you” over in her head every night before she went to bed and every morning when she awoke, trying so desperately to decipher what it was he actually meant, seeing as it clearly wasn’t that he would actually call.

Veronica had gone back to Riverdale shortly after giving Jughead a lift to Toledo, she’d said that she needed to tie up some loose ends, and Betty had a hunch that that loose end had red hair and a knack for guitar. As for Betty, she had agreed with Marie to spend her weekends with Toby. She would pick him up and make up for lost time as much as she could with movies, lunch, shopping; he’d even started to get her into his love for drawing. On top of this, Marie had decided to let her pick him up from school for milkshakes every Wednesday, and they were quite rapidly growing closer and closer as they made these special new traditions.

“Where’s Jughead?” He’d asked, sat across from her happily dipping his finger in the whipped cream on top of his milkshake before propping it into his mouth on their second milkshake wednesday. He hadn’t quite gotten to the stage where he called them “mom and dad” to their faces yet. He referred to them as such here and there, like he did in his drawing, but Betty figured he’d need more time to adjust seeing as, technically, they were strangers to him; as much as it pained her to admit.

She wasn’t expecting the sudden enquiry, despite having known that he would inevitably begin to wonder why he wasn’t around anymore. She swirled her straw around for a few seconds before putting on her best Betty Cooper smile as she inhaled a deep breath.

“He’s had to go away for a little while,” was all that she could manage in the moment, taking a sip from her drink.

“Is he working?”

She figured this was probably the best excuse to go for, and simultaneously wondered how her eight year old son was clearly much smarter than she was. Truthfully, she’d been so confused and left in the dark herself, that she had exhausted every possible scenario she could as to why he hadn’t shown any signs of returning, unable to settle on just one.

“Yes,” she nodded with a gulp, “he is.”

Toby’s face fell as he contemplated this, looking down at the marble table they were sat at. “When is he coming back?”

She flinched a little then, her eyes darting to a space of nothingness. When was he coming back? She sure as hell didn’t know, but this wasn’t about her. She fixated her eyes back on Toby and softened them as she absorbed the little face looking back at her with a hopeful expression.

“Soon.”

“I really don’t want you to go again,” he said quite suddenly. “Are you going to leave me?”

Betty’s heart dropped, a little “oh” escaping her lips as she reached over and placed a hand firmly on top of his. She had never felt guilt quite like it. She knew none of this was her fault, but she was his mother, and she felt as if she’d deserted him. Whether it was her doing or not.

“Listen,” she said softly, studying his face and reaching to brush a little dark curl out of the way. “I will never leave you. Ok?”

He looked back up, his eyes a little sadder than she was used to. “Ok.”

-

“I don’t know, B,” Veronica had said when Betty had called once she’d returned back to the motel after another milkshake Wednesday. “I dropped him off, it was a place just outside of Toledo, I didn’t see anything. I just kind of waved him off and left.”

Betty exhaled a large sigh. “It’s weird, isn’t it? That he hasn’t called? Not even texted?”

“He’s got a lot on his plate,” she replied, “but, yeah, it kinda sucks that he hasn’t even contacted about Toby. How is he, by the way?”

Betty’s mood instantly shifted. “Oh, he’s wonderful,” she couldn’t help but gush. “He’s so smart for his age, plus he’s absolutely hilarious, and we’ve bonded really well. I think this week and a half has been the best of my life, minus the Jughead situation.”

“I’m so glad,” Veronica replied, her smile evident in her tone, “minus the Jughead situation.”

“I just hope he’s ok,” she murmured, shaking her head as she felt her thoughts travel to a place she didn’t want to go. “Anyway,” she chirped, “how about you? Are you still in Riverdale?”

“Yeah,” Veronica said after a subsequent pause. “I’m actually staying with Archie for a bit.”

Betty raised her eyebrows. “Archie?”

“Yeah,” she stuttered, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say this, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone-“

“It’s ok, V. I kind of figured,” Betty interjected with a warm laugh. “I’m happy for you.”

“We’re just taking it slow,” she insisted, “he’s been sleeping on the floor.”

Betty giggled. “Wow, sounds like things are heating up.”

“Oh, stop.” Veronica paused, as if pondering over what to say next. “He’s really sorry, you know? About the whole fake wedding thing.”

“I know,” she said, recalling how she had forced it out of her mom the last time she saw her, which was only ever here and there. “Tell him I said hi.”

“I will. So, are you still staying in that motel?”

“For now,” she sighed, plonking herself back down onto the bed. “I’m trying to be with Toby as much as I can, and it just made sense as a temporary accommodation. I know it’s not exactly the Ritz, but, it’s better than nothing.”

“That’s understandable,” Veronica replied, no form of judgement in her voice, despite the fact Betty had been so paranoid about coming across as pathetic living in a motel as a grown, twenty-six year old woman. “I’m glad you’re happy, B… minus the Jughead situation.”

She smiled, grateful in that moment to have her best friend back, if only a little bit at a time.

“Yeah, you too.”

Minus the Jughead situation.

The night had crept up on her quicker than she’d thought, the dead of night always heightening her anxiety. She ran over the past couple of weeks in her head and stared out vacantly at the moon which was shining through her open window. She just couldn't get him out of her head. His hands, his lips, his teeth on her neck, that night in the very bed that she was now sleeping in alone. Not only their one night of passion, but just him in general. Seeing his face and hearing his voice after thinking she never would again, paired with the little subtle hand squeezes and the way his thumb brushed her jaw when they kissed. She felt his absence now more than she had done for the whole of the past eight years.

After a good hour of completely tormenting herself, she decided that she’d had enough and quite hastily dialled his number. She stared at it for a while, just sat there glaring back at her, her body suddenly paralysed with fear. What if he answered and said he didn't want to be with her anymore? Worst still, what if she answered? After a while, she threw down her phone and groaned. Eventually deciding to opt for a text instead, unable to take the gut-wrenching silence for another restless night.

(23.03) Hey, it's me. Is everything ok? Worried about you. B x

She immediately regretted what she’d sent, wondering if she should've been more forceful, even more worried that she shouldn't have said anything at all. But, there was a bigger picture to consider. He had a son who he was supposed to be reconnecting with at the most vital time of his life, who he hadn't contacted or even bothered to ask about. She was upset, a little angry, but more than anything else she was worried. Worried because she thought that she knew him, and she couldn’t believe he would possibly do something like this. What if he’s hurt? She found herself thinking. What if he’s dead in a ditch somewhere? But shook off these thoughts, trying to pull herself together.

She tried to call once more, with no answer, and then placed her phone face down on the beside table. When it finally buzzed, she was drifting off into a sleep that she had been craving for days. Her head shot up and she reached out, subsequently knocking it off the bedside table and onto the rugged and slightly stained carpet.

“Hello? Hello?” She said, flustered from leaping out of bed whilst still half asleep, worried that she would miss the call. Desperate to hear his voice.

“Hey, Betty.”

“Archie?” she sounded surprised, as if his voice was the last that she’d have expected to hear, and she couldn't stop her heart dropping in disappointment. “Hey?”

“I’m sorry if this is weird,” he started.

“It's not,” she said sincerely, an understanding silence passing between them. “Is everything ok?” She asked after a moment, her voice a little shaky.

“Yeah, all good,” he replied. “Well, I think.”

“Ok, Arch, you're being very cryptic right now. Plus, it's nearly two in the morning. What's going on?”

He swallowed. “It's Jughead.”

She froze at the sound of his name, even though she had subconsciously been hoping he would say it as soon as she’s answered the phone. Suddenly, all of her darkest fears from earlier were flashing before her eyes.

“What's happened? Is he ok?”

“You need to come back to Riverdale.”

Her heart was in her throat, the image of him being hurt, or worse, clouding up her brain. “Why? Has something happened to him?”

“He's ok. He’s here. He turned up last night.”

She exhaled, closing her eyes as she clutched her temple. “He turned up there? In Riverdale? Why didn't he call me?”

“He got some news; he’s been a little cut up over it.

“...ok,” she said as if it were a question, prompting him to continue, yet being greeted with a momentary pause.

His voice became muffled and distant, as if he’d stepped into another room and was looking around so that nobody could hear him.

“The baby’s not his, Betty,” he finally uttered.

Her heart fluttered. “Wh- what. How?”

“I don't know the full details. She'd been sleeping with someone; Jughead didn’t even know that he existed. All I know is that he isn't the father and he's here and he’s pretty low.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, uh, I'll get there,” she said, pausing as her self-doubt began to creep in again. “But, are you sure he wants to see me?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Well, he’s been ignoring me for nearly two weeks. I just figured… I don't know. I don’t know what I thought.”

“Look,” he said, “just come back and we’ll sort it out when you’re here. I can’t really speak for him over the phone.”

“Well, can you put him on to speak for himself?”

“I can’t right now, I’m sorry. I can’t explain. Will you let me know when you’re coming?”

“Ok,” she replied reluctantly, opening her mouth to say something else but hearing the abrupt sound of a long, low tone indicating that Archie had hung up.

She knew that she wasn't going to get any sleep after the call even if she tried, so she started to gather her things together. She'd been living out of the same few t-shirts and jeans since she'd got to Silvercross, but Alice had brought over a large bag of her stuff from Riverdale a few days ago, along with her car, with help from her lifelong best friend, Kevin, who had pulled Betty into a huge embrace and enjoyed a brief catch up over lunch before having to rush back for work. It was around the same time that Alice had finally admitted to Betty that the wedding hadn't been genuine, although she had already sussed it out for herself pretty early on. Although she was taking it one step at a time, Betty was grateful to her mother, and couldn’t help but sympathise with her.

Tired of fighting, Betty had kept as calm and quiet as she could, taking everything in she had told her and nodding, genuinely trying to understand. Truthfully, she felt bad for her mom. She knew that, although she was involved, she wasn't the person to blame. She soon broke the news that Hal had moved out of their family home; driven out of Riverdale after the truth about what he’d done had been exposed. Betty was shocked, but she wasn’t sorry. Alice told her that he had mentioned wanting to talk to her, but she shook her head and furrowed her brows and said she didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Not for a long time, if even at all.

Betty figured that, even though she wasn’t due to see Toby again for another two days, she would let Marie know where she was going. Seeing as it was two o’clock in the morning, she dropped her a text in worries that she would wake them both up by attempting to call and leave a voicemail.

(02:23) Hi Marie. Apologies it’s late, but thought I’d text so you could see it when you wake up. I’m heading back to Riverdale for a couple of days, nothing to worry about, and I’ll of course be back again by Friday as usual. See you soon. Give Toby my love. Betty x

The drive to Riverdale was shorter than she had remembered, purely because she was so anxious to see Jughead that she had wanted to drag out the time as long as she could. Truthfully, she was terrified that he didn’t want her anymore, and she just couldn’t shake it. She wasn’t ready for it to be over.

She arrived in the town with pep just before five a.m. and she was absolutely exhausted, as much as she tried to fight it, running now off nothing but adrenaline. She wasn’t even sure if anyone would be awake at such an ungodly hour, so she sat in the car after pulling up in her old, familiar street, turning off the ignition and staring blankly at the house beside her own. All of the rooms were dark, the only source of light coming from a mixture of the moon and the faded street lights. She began to wonder why she had acted so impulsively; she hadn’t even given this abrupt journey a second thought. She hadn’t even prepared for the imminent heartbreak she was convinced was looming.

(04:57) I’m here. Sorry for the short notice. Couldn’t sleep after your call. Is anyone up?

She sat in the same position for a good fifteen minutes, receiving nothing in return to indicate that anyone actually was awake, and deciding that she best find somewhere to get some rest before taking things any further. That was when she finally allowed her eyes to run over her childhood home for the first time in weeks. She hadn’t stepped foot inside since she’d ripped off her muddy wedding dress and left it on her bedroom floor. She wondered if it was still there. She knew that her dad was gone, so she didn’t feel as unnerved about approaching the front door as she otherwise would have. Instinctively, she reached for the house key that was in her pocket on her keyring as it always was, but instead stopped herself and decided to knock the door. It was five a.m. so she wasn’t expecting anyone to answer, retrieving the key after all. But, just as she was about to turn the lock, the door opened quite abruptly, causing her to jump.

“Betty? Oh my god,” Polly cried, throwing her arms around her and squeezing her as tightly as she could.

“Pol,” Betty exclaimed, unable to catch her breath after the sudden embrace, “what are you doing up?”

“I have work at six,” she replied, still in disbelief, gesturing for her to come inside and briskly taking her coat.

“Anyway,” she continued, “forget that! What are you doing here? Are you ok? Mom told me about everything. I didn’t know about any of it, Betty, I swear. I’ve missed you so much. Where’s Jughead? Is Toby ok? Dad has left, none of us could even bear to look at him. I can’t even believe all of this has happened. I’ve been so desperate to talk to you-”

“Polly!” Betty interjected, an exhausted smile faintly appearing on her face as she placed a hand on her arm. “I love you but I am running on very little sleep and your questions are kind of all merging into one right now.”

“Right,” she muttered, her face softening. “Sorry, Betty. Well, here’s the most important one. Are you ok?”

She threw herself down onto the sofa as soon as she’d gotten inside, closing her eyes for a moment and releasing a deep sigh. She’d felt as though she’d been holding her breath the entire way over.

“Yeah,” she said, “I’m ok. I just really need some sleep.”

“Well, mom’s gone away for work until Friday, and the twins are staying at Cheryl’s place until tomorrow. So, you’ll have the house to yourself for a while when you wake up,” Polly replied, sitting down beside her and placing a hand softly on top of hers.

“Thanks, Pol,” she breathed, embracing her sister again, glad for the lack of questioning she would have inevitably had to face from everybody else whilst she was back. Simultaneously glad for the brief comfort she had been longing for after putting on a brave face for so many countless days. “We’ll catch up when you’re home and I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”

Once Betty had reached the top of the stairs after Polly had finally let her part, she entered her bedroom, taking note of the fact that the dress was gone. She was thankful, for probably the first time in her life, for her mom’s slightly unconventional enthusiasm for cleaning and tidying. Before she could stop herself, she wandered over to the window where she had spent the majority of her youth. The window that Jughead had tapped and climbed through an entire lifetime ago before they’d shared their first kiss. She gazed outside and studied the familiar room placed directly on the other side. Archie's.

The curtains were shut and the lights were off, just as she had expected, the sun only just starting to show signs of beginning to rise; the moon running away from it’s light. She sighed, heaving herself onto her familiar, pastel pink bed sheets and allowing her eyes to naturally close. She fell into a deep sleep much quicker than she had expected, her body greeting the opportunity to finally recharge.

Back downstairs, Polly pulled on her grey, cotton coat and threw her handbag over her shoulder before slipping her feet into her favourite and slightly worn dolly shoes, carefully closing the front door behind her as she made her way outside. Taking a few steps forward out onto the driveway, she unlocked her phone and dialled a number, glancing back at the house as she did so, conscious of her every move.

She kept her voice low, changing her view to that of the house next door as a curtain opened ever so slightly in front of her.

“Ok,” she breathed, “she’s here. Now what?”

Chapter Text

Two days earlier

Jughead paced back and forth his small living room with the walls still half painted, dragging his hands through his hair every few seconds as he contemplated the words that were coming out of her mouth. She was leaning against the door frame, her shoulder length dirty blonde hair falling slightly in front of her face as she lifted a hand to tuck it behind her ear.

“Why did you tell me the baby was mine?” He said quietly, trying to keep his voice down following a few minutes of silence, barely able to meet her eyes. “Why would you do that?” 

She shook her head, searching his face for something that wasn’t there as she pushed herself back upright.  “I wanted you to come back,” she replied, her voice trembling.

“And you thought lying to me would do it?” His brows furrowed as he looked up at her, stopping still and throwing his arms to his side. “Are you even pregnant?”

“Yes,” she protested, “I am.”

“And this guy knows, right? That he's the father?”

She cleared her throat and looked towards the floor. “Yes.”

Jughead returned to his pacing, turning the past two weeks over in his head. He had called Marie every other day to make sure Toby and Betty were ok, still unsure as to how to talk to them himself when he was trying so hard to come to terms with the fact that his soon-to-be-ex-wife was seemingly having his baby. He had asked the both of them not to tell Betty he had been in touch just yet, because he had a plan and he promised it would be worth it, but everything had been put on pause pretty early on when everything he thought he knew had been masked by an unthinkable haze.

“Is this why you’ve hidden my phone?” He enquired in disbelief, slowly piecing everything together and scolding himself for not having done so earlier.

“What? No, I-”

“Where have you put it?”

Eva tilted her head, a large sigh consuming her breath. “I just don't want you to leave, ok? Please, Jughead. I love you.”

He stopped again, his body seizing up at her unexpected words. They had fallen from her lips as if they were meaningless, discarded in desperation, and something about the way they sounded didn’t sit right with him.

“What?”

“I love you,” she repeated with a swallow, her voice shaky and unsure as if trying to convince herself of what she was saying rather than him. “Of course I do. We’re married.”

“You don't love me,” he sighed, lowering his voice. “We’re in the middle of finalising our divorce.”

“We don't have to.”

She reached for him then, grasping onto the back of his hand. Her touch was cold and almost alien, like something he wasn’t used to. Something that unnerved him. The same touch that he’d impulsively flinched at whenever they had laid in bed together for the past two years.

“You’re having another man’s baby,” he exclaimed, twisting his body to face her, “and I have a family waiting for me. Eva, what’s going on with you?”

She threw herself down onto the sofa, placing her head in her hands as she began to cry. Exhausting all of her options, she looked completely and utterly lost.

“He doesn’t want me,” she managed through quiet sobs, “or the baby.”

“What do you mean?”

“He's left us,” she continued. “I don't even know where he is.”

He sighed, his face softening as he carefully sat down beside her. Although he had never been in love with her, he had spent the past two years of his life with her and he undoubtedly cared about her, whether he liked it or not. He loved her as a person and as a friend, and seeing her in this kind of state pained him in a way that he couldn’t control. He kept his hands in his lap as he went on.

“Did he say anything?”

Her voice was muffled as she kept her face shielded. “He left a note saying he was leaving and not to come looking for him. Saying that this life wasn’t something he wanted.”

Jughead closed his eyes and exhaled. “Eva.”

“I know you have to go,” she cried unsteadily as she lifted her head. “I’m sorry. About the past two weeks. About all of it. I just want my baby to have a better life than I did. Is that so crazy?”

Something about this statement caused his heart to drop, mainly due to the fact that it wasn’t crazy at all. He understood it better than anyone. Ever since he was a child, he had told himself that one day he would start a family of his own, and that he’d make sure his children would have the love and the safety and security that he had only ever dreamed of. He had felt it with Toby. He had felt it with Eva’s unborn baby, which is why he knew he’d had to come back in the first place. That childhood voice in the back of his mind had begged him to.

“We rushed into this marriage,” he declared after a while. “Neither of us wanted it. Not really.”

She finally looked at him, her eyes a mixture of vacant and dejected. “I know.”

“But I care about you,” he continued, “and I want to help you. Is there anyone you can stay with? How about your sister?”

“Yeah, maybe,” she murmured, “but she’s in Colorado. There’s no way I can afford to get there right now.”

Before he had given himself much time to think about it, he rose from his spot on the sofa and walked over to the kitchen, grabbing his wallet from the worktop. He retrieved a small chunk of cash, making sure to still keep just a reasonable amount for himself. He knew she needed this more than him. He didn’t even hesitate.

“Here,” he said, “It’s not much, but it’ll help you sort something out.”

“Jughead, I can’t. I mean, I don’t expect-“

“Take it,” he insisted, holding out his hand and gesturing for her to do so, refusing to take no for answer. And, after a few moments of deliberation, she did, because this wasn’t just about her; it was about her baby, too.

Another hour of talking and listening and nodding passed by, and, as the sun was starting to drop, Jughead decided it would be best for him to make a move. As he was leaving, he halted in the doorway and turned back to study her face once more. He knew that he would probably never see her again, and the faint smile that passed between them indicated some form of closure they had both needed for quite some time.

Her eyes were still red from crying, but there was a glimmer of hope there that he hadn’t seen before. Like he had just laid down a stepping stone for her to continue with her life; for her to be happy. A fresh start for the both of them.

“Thank you,” she said with sincerity, her voice but a whisper as he nodded in response.

“Take care of yourself.”

And, with that, Jughead was gone

-

Now

Betty awoke, forgetting for a brief moment where she was, the sight of the afternoon sunlight tiptoeing through her floral curtains suddenly reminding her of the strange exhausted haze of last night. Or, more aptly, the early hours of the morning. She sat up with more force than she had intended to, rubbing her eyes and instinctively going to grab her phone. It was 2 p.m. and the familiar name on her lock screen caused her breath to catch in her throat. She thought she was seeing things, but there it was. Right in front of her. Jughead.

(12:13) Need to talk to you.

She froze, her hands shaking, unsure as to how to take the very unreadable five words. It was so blunt and straightforward, no apology or explanation, and her professional text-analysing skills were failing her for probably the first time in her life.

(14:03) Are you ok? Can I call you?

Her phone beeped after just a few minutes, which had already felt like the passing of several hours.

(14:07) Can’t talk. Meet at Pop’s later? Around six?

(14:08) Ok. I'll be there.

Pulling on her old Riverdale High hoodie that was sat neatly in her wardrobe, beside her old Vixens uniform which she had barely even looked at for ten years, she threw her hair up into a bun and made her way downstairs. Polly had said that the house would be empty when she woke up, and she was grateful for the peace and quiet so that she could somehow attempt to gather her thoughts.

Ok, Betty, she told herself, it's going to be ok. He just wants to talk.

Grabbing the milk out of the fridge and pouring it into a bowl of her favourite cereal that she had found in the back of the cupboard, she leant up against the kitchen counter and tried her best to eat. God knows she needed her energy. Her nerves were already getting the better of her, and she wondered how she was going to possibly make it through the next painfully long four hours.

Can’t talk, he’d said. Perhaps he wanted to break up with her in person; the thought making her shudder. But, how could they possibly break up when they weren’t even really together in the first place? What even were they, anyway? They’d had no chance to even really discuss things. Everything had just moved so fast.

She knew that she loved him, and that he loved her, but was it enough?

All of a sudden, a loud knock on the door caused her to jump so quickly that she almost dropped the bowl straight onto the floor. Instinctively thinking that it might be him, even though the logical part of her brain was telling her that it obviously wasn’t, she leaped towards the door and seized the handle, taking a deep breath before turning it. It was then that she was met with a familiar pair of dark, brown eyes.

“Hey, you,” Veronica cried, pulling her into a hug,

“V, hi,” she replied, a little bewildered, hugging her back nonetheless.

“I hear Jughead wants to meet with you later? I wanted to come and see if you were ok,” she said, stepping inside as Betty took her coat and hung it up beside the door.

“Yeah,” she breathed with a tone of surprise, “did Archie tell you that? Does he know anything?”

“I don't think he knows any more than you or I,” she answered, “but I can try and find out.”

“No, it’s ok,” Betty uttered quickly, shaking her head as if feeling stupid for contemplating it in the first place. “I think I need to just trust Jughead and let him tell me himself. I’m just desperate for some answers now, you know?”

Veronica followed Betty into the kitchen where she disposed of her cereal and offered to make them both a hot drink.

“A coffee would go down a treat,” she admitted, momentarily allowing the issue at hand to leave her mind as she jumped up onto one of the kitchen stools. “Listen, B, try not to worry too much, ok?”

“Yeah,” Betty replied, standing on her tip toes to reach the top shelf, “I’ll try. But, you know, it is me.”

“Right.”

“Oh shoot,” she mumbled, “we’re out of coffee.”

“How can you be out of coffee? Your mom makes sure you’re stocked up in case of an apocalypse at all times.”

She shrugged, closing the cupboard door and sighing. “Pop’s?”

Veronica froze, her entire face dropping as she stood abruptly, initiating the stool to screech across the floor, the abrupt movement making Betty jump, the unfamiliar sound causing them both to wince in unison.

“No,” she said a little louder than anticipated, “I’ve just remembered I’ve already had one today anyway.”

Betty studied her friend’s sudden change in demeanour, her face falling into an expression of confusion. “Are you ok?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Veronica giggled, shaking her head and returning to her seat, “sorry.”

“What’s wrong with Pop’s?”

“Nothing,” she asserted, becoming visibly nervous. “I just- I just really don’t want to- you know… see Pop.”

“Pop?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, instantly regretting the first name that had entered her mind, “we kind of… you know… had a thing.”

“Oh, Veronica,” Betty scoffed as she laughed, “shut up.”

“Ok, yes,” she sighed, her eyes widening as she silently scolded herself, “I’ll admit that wasn’t the best lie I’ve told.”

“What’s going on, V?”

“Honestly?” She paused, glancing down at her perfectly painted manicure, taking a little while to answer. “I just don’t want to run into Archie.”

“I thought that you two-“

“Yeah,” she interjected, “we had a bit of a disagreement last night. I’m just trying to avoid him, let the whole thing cool off for a bit.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, suddenly feeling bad for prying. “I hope everything’s ok.”

“It will be,” she stated, painting on a smile as she clasped her hands together. “How about we skip the coffee and crack out that wine I know Mama Coop has been hiding in the fridge.”

Betty let out a small ‘ha’, shaking her head in response. “It’s half two in the afternoon,” she bellowed.

“And?”

“And,” Betty repeated, rolling her eyes as she smiled, “I’d rather not turn up drunk to this thing later.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” she smirked. “Just one glass?”

She threw her hands up and giggled faintly after a few seconds of Veronica’s best and perfectly mastered puppy dog eyes, too exhausted to even fight her on this, seeing as she knew that she’d lose eventually anyway. “Fine. Just one.”

Sure enough, Betty enjoyed that promised single glass of wine as she lay back on the sofa with her best friend and skipped through her favourite rom-com titles on Netflix. She needed the distraction, and, if only for a little while, she stopped obsessively worrying about what was going to happen in the following few hours. She knew that without this she would have just moped around for the entirety of the afternoon. It felt like that night would either be the end of something or the beginning, but she couldn’t quite decide which. The thought was inexplicably daunting and she desperately tried to shove it towards the back of her mind.

“Ok,” Veronica declared after the credits began to roll in front of them, taking one last sip from her wine glass. “It’s 4:30. We have an hour and a half. Fancy a makeover?”

“A makeover?” Betty repeated the words with her eyebrows raised, trying to put her finger on why Veronica was acting so strangely and struggling to come up with a conclusion, tilting around the remnants of her drink at the bottom of her glass. “Is that really necessary?”

“Why not?” Veronica shrugged, clinking her empty glass onto the coffee table and jumping up off of the sofa. “It’ll take your mind off of things. Plus, you can show up looking like a bad ass bitch, if it helps?”

Betty couldn’t help but smirk, pursing her lips together and nodding with an added eye roll. “Ok,” she said, “but it’s only Pop’s. Try to keep it minimal.”

She placed a hand over her heart. “Your wish is my command.”

The following few hours flew by much quicker than she would have liked, 6 p.m. creeping up and eliciting an unsettling panic inside of her. She had decided to opt for soft waves that sat just below her shoulders, a short sleeved white blouse and black jeans paired with a pair of pastel pink dolly shoes. She inspected her reflection in the mirror on her dresser and felt like she was seeing herself for the first time in years. She never made an effort anymore, not since her life had faded away into emptiness, and she wasn’t used to the face staring back at her. It was a slight shock to the system, but a welcomed one at that.

When she had arrived at her familiar favourite teenage-self’s spot, insisting to Veronica that she would walk in order to psyche herself up; the slight breeze jumping through the warm air prompted a spine climbing shiver. She stood for a few moments in complete silence, afraid to get too close, the red neon light illuminating her tear-filled, green eyes. The last time she’d been here was when she had reunited with Jughead in her wedding dress and those beaten up cowboy boots that were still lying somewhere in the trunk of Veronica’s car. She looked down, the concrete slightly damp from a light shower earlier in the afternoon. It all felt like such a distant memory now.

As soon as she faced the doors she had walked in and out of so many times before, she halted and exhaled deeply. He just wants to talk, she told herself for the tenth time in the past hour. The truth was that she was terrified, and much more unprepared than Betty Cooper, the perfect girl next door, was familiar to. She stole a quick glance inside but it was uncharacteristically dark. She began to wonder if it was even open, and seriously contemplated turning back around and forgetting all about the whole thing. Where was everybody, anyway?

But, sure enough, it was open. At least, open for her. And after the bell on top of the door sounded, she didn’t look back once.

Upon stepping inside, the image before her fixated her to the ground. The booths were all laced with sparkling fairy lights and candles, perfectly intricate and without a soul in sight. Her heart was pounding against her rib cage. She couldn’t even breathe. It didn’t take long for her to realise why Veronica had wanted her to change out of her old hoodie; how could she have not seen it before? This wasn’t just a normal talk. This was something else entirely.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, absorbing her beautiful surroundings as her arms fell to her sides.

“Hey,” a voice eventually said in the distance, pulling her away from her racing thoughts. She cautiously stepped closer, her eyes falling on him in the most perfect, dimmed light.

“Uh, hey,” she choked with a laugh in response to his casual, very Jughead-esque greeting, still gazing around in disbelief as he came closer into view. “Did you- did you do this?”

He smiled, his eyes projecting a kindness that made her feel safe, before looking around and shrugging. “With some help.”

She glimpsed behind her then, noticing a group of people sat in a couple of booths at the back of the diner. Not only were Veronica, Archie and Polly there, but also her mom. They exchanged a warm smile, an acceptance passing between the both of them from across the room that no words could justify. She looked as though she was on the verge of crying. Shortly and almost instantly catching her eye, there was a little head of black curly hair wedged in between them all. Toby. He was craning his neck so he could see them, and he grinned. Her jaw dropped. He really was smarter than her.

“I’m sorry if I worried you,” Jughead continued. “I told Archie to let you know that I was ok as soon as I could, but I really wanted to surprise you.”

She blinked, turning back around to face him, still struggling to catch her breath. “Well, you’ve definitely succeeded.”

Without another word, he tucked a hand inside of his pocket and recovered a piece of paper, holding it in mid-air to fill the space between them. This was becoming a little bit of a habit now; the simple gesture still as endearing as it was the very first time, nonetheless.

“What’s this?” she asked, hesitantly taking it from him and inspecting the blank space before her, unfolding it to reveal a string of scribbled sentences. “Are we only communicating through letters now?”

“Just read it,” he uttered, chuckling slightly at her joke, repeating her words from the motel with a smirk. “Now, or whenever, really… Although, preferably now else the plan will go to shit.”

Glancing back down in confusion, she began to absorb the familiar ink-stained writing, and her heart fluttered with every single word. Suddenly, the world around her fell into slow motion.


'Betty,

If you’re reading this, I assume that you didn’t run away at the sight of me drowning in mood lighting, and that you’re actually willing to hear me out - which is always a start.

I definitely owe you an explanation. After a couple of weeks of utter craziness, I found out that Eva’s baby wasn’t mine. You know that part already, but the truth is that I wasn’t cut up about it. In fact, I was really quite relieved. I wanted so desperately to talk to you, but when it came down to it, I conjured up a plan inside of my head and decided to go about things in a slightly different way. I wanted to do something special but, at the same time, I didn’t want you to suspect anything.

I continuously made sure that you and Toby were both ok – that kid is great at keeping secrets, we should probably be wary of that – and I helped Eva get back to Colorado so that she could have her baby and raise it under better circumstances. I felt like I owed it to her and to myself, somehow. Then, as soon as I could, I left.

Betty, you came back into my life at a time when I thought I had nothing left. I had settled into a routine that was killing me; a routine that I had always feared of being stuck in ever since I can remember. I’d forgotten what it was like to be happy. I’d stopped writing and I’d stopped feeling, and I’d stopped living my life.

But when I saw you, that day on the terrace and in the rain outside of Pop’s, I knew that those feelings were still there inside of me. They were just waiting to be revived. And that’s what you did, and continue to do.

You were the person who loved me when I couldn’t love myself. The person who supported me and stood by me when I thought that nobody ever would, or were even capable of doing so. So, I want to thank you for that. And, not only that, but I want to show you.

So, I guess that brings me onto my next point.

Marry me.'

Betty’s heart was in her throat, her eyes widening as she took a deep inhalation of breath. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach were overflowing like they’d never done before. Her eyebrows creased together as tears threatened to spill, looking back up away from those two words she could’ve sworn she was imagining. She could hardly believe what was happening. She studied his face for the confirmation she was hoping for 

Yeah, it was happening.

He was smiling, holding out his hand, clutching something she’d forgotten had existed. A ring. Or, more specifically, the ring. The one from the hospital all of those years ago that she’d kept in her bedroom drawer ever since; unable to ever truly part with it. Polly must have taken it; she must’ve known that she was coming back. Everyone did.

This whole thing had been the wildest, most impulsive yet wonderful plan, all intended from the cryptic phone call with Archie the night before, to Veronica keeping her away from Pop’s for the afternoon, and that very last drop of wine. All of it was so that she’d be stood here, in front of the only boy she’d ever loved, looking at her as though no time had passed at all. The boy who was offering the rest of his life to her. Everything that they’d gone through was so that they could be right here, in this moment, finding their way back to each other. Her mind was racing, but her answer didn’t warrant a second thought. There was no doubt about it.

“You’re crazy,” she declared finally, unable to stop the smile from curving in the corners of her lips.

He nodded, looking down and raising his eyebrows. “Well,” he said, “you know what they say. We’re all crazy.”

And, with that, she took a single step forward and pulled him into the purest, most perfect and passionate kiss. The one that they had been waiting for. The one that somehow topped them all.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smirked, as she held out her hand for him to slip on the ring back to its rightful place. It fitted perfectly, just as it had done back when they were eighteen.

Her arms were draped around his neck as he lifted her off of the floor, prompting her to tilt her head back and laugh. Toby had bounded over, the both of them picking him up to join in the embrace as he giggled and nestled into Betty’s neck. It was a perfect moment, almost sickeningly so, but one they would carry with them for the rest of their lives. The three of them. The family they were always supposed to be. Despite of it all.

For better or worse.

-

Two years later

“Ok, you do realise that you two are going to have to keep your hands off of each other if we’re ever going to get any of this done?” Betty teased, rolling her eyes at the sight of Veronica and Archie sneaking yet another kiss in the doorway.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he declared, leaning in for one more brisk peck as he hurriedly walked away down the hall, turning his head and smiling every few seconds.

Veronica leaned up against the door as she closed it slowly, unable to remove the smirk from his face that had mirrored so effortlessly onto hers. Betty was still grinning, shaking her head jokingly as she returned to her original spot in front of the mirror.

“You look happy, V,” she observed, noting how she hadn’t seen her best friend like this since high school. It elicited a warmth within her that she welcomed with open arms.

“I am,” Veronica placed a hand over her lower stomach and gently gave it a squeeze. “We are.”

The past couple of years had been nothing less of a whirlwind. After six months of visiting back and forth, paired with endless hours of working and saving, Betty and Jughead were finally able to purchase their own small house in Silvercross. It was a decision that took some time and deliberation, but they didn’t want to drag Toby away from the place, the school and the friends that he was used to; not to mention Marie, who he was naturally incredibly attached to.

The day Toby moved in with them they hadn’t stopped smiling. Not once. They’d decorated his room with as much thought and love as they could muster, making sure to place his little blue blanket from when he was a baby on his bed as if he’d never parted with it. It didn’t come without its challenges, of course. Adjusting to having an almost-ten-year-old in the house was definitely a process. He was a good kid, but he had his moments, as every child does. It didn’t take long for them to fall into a routine, though; one that worked for all three of them. And, truthfully, it didn’t take all that much effort at all. It was natural. It just worked.

Jughead would leave for work half an hour before Betty in the morning, kissing her forehead every day without fail before she would get Toby dressed and drop him off at school, waving him off as he embraced his friends. Jughead managed to land a writing job at the local paper, taking time to compose his novel in his spare time after landing a book deal with an up and coming publisher, whilst Betty became an editor in chief of the exact same paper, as well as volunteering in the local library on Mondays and helping kids enrich their reading and writing skills. The three of them spent every weekend doing something different, as much as their income would allow them to. Every other penny they could spare went straight into their wedding fund. They frequently planned little adventures and made memories that would stay with them for the rest of their lives, taking numerous photographs and keeping them in beautiful frames around the house.

And, the best part of all was that it was only just the beginning.

Betty kept in touch with her mother regularly who had been rebuilding her life following her divorce, finding her feet with the help of both of her daughters. Hal had continued to keep a low profile, sending a letter of apology and congratulations six months after their engagement, claiming to be staying with relatives and receiving professional help for numerous issues, despite admitting that there were no excuses for what he had done. They were appreciative, if not slightly nonchalant, wishing him the best but feeling unable to allow him back into their lives. If they were to do so at all, they agreed that it would take endless years of baby steps.

Ever since the engagement in the diner, Archie and Veronica had rekindled their romance, finally admitting how crazy they were for one another. They were taking each day as it arrived, so when Veronica found out that she was pregnant it was naturally a huge shock to the system. Nonetheless, they were happier than ever, and were excited at the prospect of raising a child; even though Jughead had said on countless occasions: “don’t take offense to this, Archie, but you being a dad kinda terrifies me. You can’t even cook a frozen pizza,” prompting a mixture of laughter and the sound of Veronica insisting that he would not be in charge of anyone’s food. And that, “no, Archie, frozen pizza is not suitable for a new born.” The four of them had agreed to meet up every month without fail in their same old booth at Pop’s. Just like those four teenagers had never even left. Everything took time and effort and, just like anything in life, there were always going to be little blips, but they were moving in the right direction. And they were happy.

“Just one more finishing touch,” Veronica declared, bringing the attention back to the present moment as she ran a subtle, light red lipstick over Betty’s lips, prompting her to purse them together. “Perfect,” she smiled.

Allowing herself a few moments to admire her classic, naturally flawless look courtesy of aspiring makeup artist, Veronica Lodge, paired with that same old genuine smile that she was growing to be so fond of, Betty swivelled around and beamed at the room filled with a handful of family and friends.

“Here,” Alice said softly, handing Betty her bouquet of stunning white roses, wiping a small tear from the corner of her eye with her finger.

“Thanks, mom,” she replied, standing up to smooth down her dress and clutching her flowers tightly to her chest. The whole process was so familiar to that of just two years earlier, yet it couldn’t have been more different.

“Are you ready to marry the love of your life?” Polly squealed, squeezing Betty’s arm in excitement as everyone began to shuffle out of the room so to find their seats and leave the bridesmaids and the bride herself to prepare for the big moment.

Betty exhaled, her eyes glistening as Polly’s words rang in her ears, her lips forming a smile of complete contentment. “I’m ready.”

After much deliberation, Betty had invited her father to the ceremony. He had sat towards the back out of respect for his family, keeping to himself, and handing Betty a very cautious nod as she approached the entrance, one that she returned. Leaving it, for now, just at that. Baby steps.

As the music began to play, Betty gripped securely onto her mother’s arm as the bridesmaids started to lead the way. Once Veronica reached the end of the aisle, she flashed a flirtatious wink at Archie who was stood amongst the groomsmen, trying to contain his playful snigger. Betty giggled to herself, genuinely happy for her friends, and surprisingly feeling no awkwardness or weirdness over the fact that he was stood there smiling back at her. Because a weight had been lifted for the both of them, and this time it wasn’t him who she was walking towards. It was the person it was always supposed to have been.

This was it. This was how their story was supposed to end. Or rather, how it was only about to begin.

He turned his head just as she was only a few feet away, his entire face lighting up as he tried to catch his breath at the sight of her, his reaction mirroring her own. Toby was stood beside him in his own little navy blue suit, bouncing elatedly and tugging on gently Jughead’s arm, neither of their gazes leaving her.

“She looks so beautiful,” Toby exclaimed through a whisper, his excitement overtaking him.

“Yeah,” Jughead replied, his face softening as her eyes burned right back into his, standing beside him, their hands meeting to interlace with one another. Betty couldn’t stop smiling, eventually looking towards the floor so to suppress the way he still made her blush uncontrollably. Even now, after all of these years. “She sure does.”

And in that moment they were the boy in the beanie and the perfect girl next door; just two kids in love making it work. Two fully grown adults still with their entire lives ahead of them.

Because she was her and he was him, and, finally, they were them again.