March 23, 1993
"Alice, dear, we have to take him now." Sister Woodhouse stood next to the small hospital bed, peering over at the young mother who was about to be childless.
"Promise me, he's going to be safe." Alice choked out without looking up at the nun. Her eyes were glued to the tiny face that laid against her chest, resting peacefully, blissfully unaware that he was going to be ripped from her arms within the next minute.
"All the children are safe with us, you know this." Sister Woodhouse reached her hands out for the boy, but Alice shifted in the bed, holding him out of her reach.
"Promise me that he'll grow up happy, that he's actually better off because of this." Alice said viciously through clenched teeth, a sharp contrast to her index finger which was lightly stroking between her son's eyes and down his nose.
"That's none of your concern now, girl. He'll be better off no matter what as long as he doesn't grow up with an unwed southside serpent as a mother." Sister Woodhouse spat back, reaching over the bed to take the infant from Alice's arms. The combination of Alice's weakness after 17 hours of labor and the distraction of the nun's words, allowed Sister Woodhouse to get her hands on the baby.
"I love you, even if this makes it seem like I don't. I love you so much." Alice whispered through sobs against his forehead before releasing him to Sister Woodhouse.
Her face twisted in pain, not from the dull ache coming from between her legs, but from the knife that seemed to have lodged itself inside her heart. She laid back against the pillows and turned away from the door, uncaring of anything that wasn't the baby she'd just brought into the world.
Alice told herself over and over that she'd made the right decision, one that would give her son a better life, but each time it became more difficult to believe it.
She'd been preparing for this day for four months, and still, nothing could've prepared her for what she felt when Sister Woodhouse walked out that door with her baby.
It was as though her heart no longer resided in her chest, but rather, it was being carried away from her. She was sure that she'd live the rest of her life, feeling like her heart didn't longer to her anymore.
It belonged to a little boy with her eyes and his father's nose, and he would live too many years of his life, not even knowing he'd held it in his hands all along.
*
March 23, 1994
"Alice, you're going to be late for class." Hal harshly said for the third time as he tied his shoes.
And for the third time, Alice said nothing. She kept her back to him and pulled the comforter tighter around her shoulders.
"Suit yourself, but don't come asking me for notes later." He huffed as he slung his bookbag over his shoulder and slammed the door behind him.
With him finally gone, she let the tears she'd been holding back all morning spring from her eyes. She stared at the calendar on Hal's desk, riddled with test dates and college interview times, wondering if he even knew what today was.
Alice knew perfectly well that this day need not mean anything to Hal, but he certainly didn't. Where he was concerned, today was his son's birthday. A year ago, she handed 'their' child over to a nun, and that had been the end of that. He picked her up three hours later, and drove her back to Riverdale, not even asking before going straight to his house. The decision had been made for her, and maybe for the first time, she'd been okay with that. If Northside Hal Cooper still wanted anything to do with her, who was she to question it?
This morning, she wished she had.
Her mind drifted quickly from Hal and onto a set of baby blues eyes that she'd been shocked weren't brown. She wondered what those little eyes had seen. Whose face he looked up at as he fell asleep at night. She wondered if he was walking yet, and if his first steps had been caught on video. She wondered if he ate his vegetables, or if he'd taken after a certain someone who preferred his food in a take-out bag. She wondered if he slept through the night, or if he woke up crying every four hours. She wondered who kissed his boo boos, and whose heartbeat he heard when he laid on his mother's chest.
And she couldn't help but wish with every fiber of her being, that it was her.
*
March 23, 2006
"Mommy! Polly messed up my braid!" Four-year-old Betty called as she slammed her tiny fist against Alice and Hal's bedroom door.
"I did not! I was trying to fix it!" Polly screamed back, adding her fist to the drum line that was taking place against the wooden door.
"Alice, can you please deal with them?!" Hal yelled from the bathroom, peaking his head out to see that his wife had not moved from her place in the bed. If he didn't know any better, he would think she were still asleep. But he did know better, and he knew that Alice could be fast asleep and still hear Betty sneeze from downstairs, somehow showing up with a tissue and a dose of allergy medicine before he even made it off the couch.
He sighed going to the door and yanking it open.
"Both of you need to stop, right now. Go brush your teeth." He ordered, pointing a finger in the direction of their bedrooms.
"But Mommy needs to fix my hair." Betty whined, stomping her foot on the floor in front of her.
"Mommy's...sick, just go brush your teeth and your hair. You can wear it down today." Hal said hesitantly, glancing back at the woman in their bed for just a moment.
"But Mommy never gets sick." Polly countered, peering around Hal to try and get a glance at her mother.
"Please just go finish getting ready." He demanded, putting a hand on each girl's shoulder and pushing them towards their rooms.
When their little heads disappeared into their rooms, he turned around and stared a hole into Alice's back.
"You have two children right here that need you. Maybe if you could stop wallowing for a few seconds, you'd see that." He spit out, turning back around and shutting their bedroom door.
Alice's blood was boiling. The nerve of that man still managed to shock her every now and then. She thought that after her breakdown in the Register last year, he would've done anything to keep her cooped up for this day every year. If there was one thing that he hated more than the fact that she'd had a baby in high school, it was anything that soiled their perfect family persona.
A mom and a dad. Two beautiful little girls. All blonde hair and pastel sweater sets. But underneath all of that, were more secrets than Alice really knew what to do with. A boy who wasn't so little anymore, turning 13 years old today.
It was hard to imagine that 13 years ago, she'd brought a life into the world. He was a teenager now. Somewhere in this world, she had a teenage son, and that fact was so hard for Alice to wrap her head around. He would be in middle school now, and she wondered if he liked to write. If he preferred math and science or English and the arts. She wondered if he played any sports, football maybe, it was in his blood after all.
She hoped he was old enough to understand now, why she gave him up. Why he was better off without her.
But just like this day every year, Alice couldn't help but wonder what it would've been like if she had decided to raise him herself. She pictured the birthday cake she may have baked for him, the eight 13-year-old boys that would be running around her living room, his father grilling on the back porch maybe.
She could feel the wet spot growing on her pillow, and she roughly wiped the tears from her face. She hadn't even realized she was crying. This only reaffirmed her decision to stay in bed all day, the real world was not ready for the wreck that was Alice Cooper on March 23rd.
She leaned over the bed, reaching into the drawer of her bedside table to pull out an orange bottle. She set the sleeping pill onto her tongues, knocking it back with a sip of water. And it wasn't long before she was dreaming of her son, her subconscious reminding her that she regretted giving him up more than she ever let herself believe.
*
March 23, 2017
"Mom! Have you seen my biology textbook?" Betty called from her room. Alice rolled over in the bed. The textbook was on the island downstairs, and Alice knew this, but she made no effort to answer Betty nor to go get it.
"Mom!" Betty called again, knocking once on Alice's bedroom door before opening it, not waiting for permission to come in. "My textbook? I'm going to be late."
"It's on the island, Betty." Alice answered, her voice thick with the tears that had basically woken her up this morning. Betty furrowed her brow.
"Are you okay? Why are you still in bed?" Betty said, coming closer and sitting on the edge of the bed, next to her mother.
"I'm fine, honey. Just a little under the weather." Alice lied, trying to convince her she was just sick. Understanding ghosted over Betty's face.
"Oh, your yearly cold?" Betty asked, and Alice nodded her head in confirmation. Just when she thought she'd successfully gotten rid of her daughter, Betty furrowed her brow.
"You know, it's pretty weird that you always get sick around the same time of year." She pointed out.
"The weather's changing, it's my allergy season." Alice tried.
"Then how do you only get sick for one day? That doesn't make any sense." Betty challenged, and Alice hesitated, sitting up against the headboard. As her mother took too long to think of a reasonable response, Betty narrowed her eyes, and Alice knew it was too late. Once her daughter was suspicious, there was no coming back.
"Betty, please..." Alice said, running a hand across her forehead. She wanted nothing more than to not deal with this, to just get through this day and go on with her life. Betty had other plans.
"Mom, what is it?" Betty gently demanded, and Alice cursed herself for leading her daughters by example. Betty had inherited Alice's ability to crack any secret she wanted to know.
Alice took a long, slow breath. She willed away the tears in her eyes, but they just seemed to sting even more.
"It's your brother's birthday." Alice whispered as she let out the breath she was holding. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she couldn't manage to meet her daughter's eyes.
It took Betty a moment to register what her mother had said. A moment to remember that somewhere out there, she had a brother, turning 24 years old today.
"Mom..." Betty said quietly, reaching out to lay a hand on Alice's arm.
"I take the day off every year." She explained, sniffling and wiping the falling tears from under her eyes. Despite how horrible this day made her feel, right now, things seemed just a little bit better. Alice didn't want her daughter to bare the burden of worrying about her, but it did feel nice for someone other than Hal to know what was going on.
"Your yearly cold." Betty said, nodding her head. "What about Dad?"
Alice rolled her eyes and scoffed.
"Your father would rather pretend like it never happened." She said with contempt. "He gave up trying to get me out of the house today, many, many years ago."
Betty sat in silence for a moment, trying to decide how to go about this situation. She was so curious, but she didn't want to upset her mom.
"Do you know where he is?" Betty asked in a small voice.
"No." Alice looked down at her hands as she spoke softly, doing better than she would've expected at not losing it. "The Sister's took care of the adoption. It was closed so I wasn't allowed to have any contact."
"He'd be 24 now. Shouldn't he have been given your name when he turned 18?" Betty's brow furrowed, and Alice's heart sank in her chest at the thought.
"Only if his parent's wanted him to have it, and even then, he may not have wanted anything to do with me, Betty." Alice said quietly, feeling her throat tighten as she considered what she'd just said. Charles was absolutely old enough to know who she was, maybe even where she was. But she'd never reached out to him, why should he reach out to her? She knew she didn't deserve the experience of meeting him.
"Well, maybe we should—"
"Betty." Alice cut her off with the last bit of strength she had left in her voice. "Please stop." She added in a whisper.
"Mom, don't you want to..." Betty trailed off, her eyes searching Alice's, which were now shut tight.
"It's too hard, Betty. Too hard to think about what things would've been like if I had made the right decision. Too hard to think about the parents who had the honor of raising him. Too hard to think about what he must think of me. It's just too hard, honey." Alice said tearfully after opening her eyes and looking at her daughter. Both women had their hands wound into tight fists, their fingernails just shy of breaking the skin on their palms. Alice's eyes had been full of tears the entire time, and as her pain fully registered in Betty's mind, her eyes filled too.
She reached out and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, pulling her into a tight hug. She whispered that it was okay, and that she was sorry for pushing, and Alice wondered if she was letting her daughter act too much like a parent in that moment. But she couldn't deny the comfort she felt as she held her daughter, and her daughter held her. So she let the moment go on for a minutes longer, before finally pulling away.
"You're going to be late for school." Alice said softly, smoothing Betty's ponytail.
"I don't have to go. I can stay home with you." Betty suggested, searching her mother's eyes.
"No, honey. I'll be fine, I always am. Go to school." Alice assured her, trying not to become emotional again at her daughter's genuine concern for her. Betty didn't look quite convinced, but she nodded her head.
"Okay. I'll come home right after school." Betty said as she stood up and walked towards the door.
"It's one day, sweetie. I take this one day, and it gets me through the year. So please, go about your day normally. For me." Alice said sweetly, causing Betty to pause in the doorway. She gave Alice a small smile and slow nod before the door shut and she was out of sight.
Once she was gone, Alice let herself fall back against the pillows. Somehow, Betty knowing the truth about today made her feel better and worse. For the first time in 24 years, Alice opened up to someone about what this day meant to her. And it was Betty, her sweet Betty. Who had reacted with such grace and empathy when Alice opened up about Charles' existence in the first place.
But it was Betty. Who she just wanted to protect from all things terrible in this world. Especially when they were her own mother's terrible decisions.
*
March 23, 2018
Alice felt numb. And somehow that was worse than any of the other feelings she typically experienced on this day.
She laid in her bed, the curtains drawn to block out the sun. She wasn't even sure what time it was, or how long she'd been awake. None of that mattered.
Because her son was dead.
Impersonated by a creepy, low-life, drug addict. But still dead.
She thought about the man whose body was buried somewhere in Fox Forest, probably disintegrated by now. She'd made sure that man was nothing by dust in order to protect someone who wasn't even her son. She'd pushed her daughter away when she became skeptical over the man who wasn't even her brother.
Because Betty's brother was dead.
Jughead and Jellybean's brother was dead.
Alice and FP's son was dead.
Alice had spent awhile beating herself up for not knowing. How could she have not known that the man who sat at her kitchen table, slept under her roof, had not an ounce of her blood pulsing through his veins.
She supposes she just wanted so badly to believe that she could have a relationship with the baby boy she'd given away just minutes after she brought him in the world. She wanted to believe that she could be forgiven.
But that little boy grew up in a sick and twisted orphanage, enduring god only knows what, because she left him there. And then, when he finally clawed his way back to her, she slammed the door in his face. She hadn't known it was him then, just like she hadn't known that Chic wasn't. But none of that mattered.
Because he was dead. And she was responsible for him not turning 25 years old today.
The sound of the doorbell ringing tore Alice from the pit of self-deprecation that her thoughts had turned into. She ignored it as it rang two more times, hoping whichever neighborhood girl scout was out selling cookies, would just get the memo and leave.
Suddenly her bedroom door was being pushed open though. Alice shot up into a sitting position just in time to see FP poking his head into the room. She sighed in relief, flopping back down against the mattress.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, looking up at the ceiling. Her voice was raspy from the boulder of emotion it attempted to hide. FP came further into the room, looking as if he was unsure where he should stand, or what he should do with his hands.
"I just thought I'd come check on you. Your car was in the driveway, so I got worried when you didn't answer. Used to key in the plant to let myself in." He admitted, sounding somewhat bashful now that he was saying it to her face.
"How noble of you." She said lazily. She didn't really want to hurt him, but it was hard to let him see her this way.
"Alice, if this is about Hal—"
"It's not." She cut him off, sitting up abruptly and clenching her fists into the sheets. Her outburst seemed to be some kind of confirmation to FP, seeing as he finally made the decision to sit down on the edge of the bed. He looked at her, focused on her eyes. Her beautiful eyes that showed too much pain, too much regret.
"Then what, Al?" He asked her softly, laying a hand over her ankle. Her leg twitched under the covers at the contact. Alice looked right back at him, warring with herself over whether to tell him the truth. She couldn't decide if his right to know was outweighed by the pain she might save him if she kept it to herself. She settled that no, it wasn't. She'd kept so much from him for so many years, and he deserved every bit of truth she could give him now.
Alice pushed her bangs from her forehead, and took a deep breath.
"It's his birthday." She whispered, dropping her hands into her lap and looking at FP, whose face just twisted in confusion.
"Whose? Hal's?" He questioned, and his hand twitched off her ankle just slightly before resettling when she shook her head no.
"No, no. Charles. It's his birthday." Alice clarified, his name catching in her throat and her hands shaking as she waited for him to respond.
He shifted closer to her, and took her off guard when he took her face between his hands.
"Are you okay?" He asked her softly. His voice shook, and she knew that he was more deeply affected by what she'd just told him than he was letting on. She couldn't help the tears that rolled down her cheeks as he looked at her with the sheer desire to take her pain away. No one besides FP Jones had ever looked at her that way.
Her lips were pressed in a tight line as she tried to maintain even an ounce of composure, but she twitched her head in what could only be interpreted as shaking her head no. The pressure in her chest was building, and before she could stop it, a strangled sort of sob escaped her throat and FP was pulling her close to his chest.
He shifted them around in the bed so that his back was against the headboard, and she was facing him, her face pressed deep into his chest, her hands fisted in his flannel as she tried to hold onto him as tightly as she could. She could feel his body shaking just a little, and she knew that he was crying too. She wasn't sure she'd ever actually seen him cry in all the years that she'd known him.
Alice peeled herself away from him enough to look at his face, stained with tear tracks.
"I'm so sorry." She choked out as she wiped his tears away with her thumbs, resting her hands on his cheeks after.
"It's not your fault, Alice." FP answered, his voice low as he tried to keep it steady.
"I gave him up, FP. No matter what happened to him, it was my fault. And you should hate me for that." She whispered, letting her eyes trailed down to look at the pattern of her comforter.
"You did what you thought would be best for him." FP said, tilting her chin up. "I just wish you had told me."
"Would things have been any different?" Alice asked him after hesitating for a moment. She let her hands trail off his face to rest against his chest, not wanting to break contact with him.
FP was quiet for a moment because he knew the answer to her question would break her heart even more, and he wasn't sure how much was left to be broken.
"I'd like to think so." She looked down as he said it, sucking in a large gasp of air as her lungs worked erratically to stay oxygenated. FP reached out and grabbed her shoulders. "But Alice, we can't live our lives wondering about the 'what ifs.' You can't do that to yourself."
She didn't say anything. She hung her head in her hands and cried. Hard.
FP pulled her closer once more, hugging her tight to his chest as he ran his hands along her back. He was broken too, and he did let himself cry with her, but she needed him today, so he did his best to keep it together.
After a while, FP shifted so that he was laying down, pulling Alice down against him. She laid her head over his heart and just listened. Let her breathing slow to match the sound of its beating. And when it did, she looked up at him, her eyes puffy and red. She leaned her head up and pressed her lips against his, gentle and slow. His moved on hers on instinct, but maintained the gentleness she had given him. It wasn't hot and they both knew it wasn't going to lead to more. It was more so a thank you, for being here with me. Thank you for not giving up on me when you certainly should have. Thank you for being the only person in this entire universe that makes me feel safe.
These are the things they said to each other without saying a word at all, and when they pulled away, Alice laid her head back over FP's heart and they fell asleep.
*
March 23, 2019
"Betty, please make sure that we have enough candles."
"Jellybean, I asked you to put your shoes in the closet."
"Jughead, if I see you sneak one more bit of frosting from your brother's cake, you will not get any later."
"FP, stop, he's going to be here any minute." Alice ordered as FP wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He rested his head on her shoulder as she sliced a baguette, squirming a little in his arms.
"Babe, you're barking orders like a mad woman. The kids are all hanging out in the basement to avoid your wrath. Please, just take a breath." FP said with a small chuckle as Alice laid the bread out on the pan. She pulled out of his grasp and placed it in the oven.
"Well, maybe if they would all just listen the first time, they wouldn't need to avoid my wrath." She said, throwing the oven mitts back down on the counter before turning to stir the pasta sauce. FP's eyebrows retreated into his hairline.
"Al, they aren't doing anything wrong." He said gently. He knew that she just wanted to make sure everything was right for today. It was important to her, important to them both, but her anxieties manifested a little differently than his did.
"I know." Alice admitted, turning around the face him, leaning back against the counter.
FP made his way over to her, his hands falling over her hips as he pulled her to him.
"It's going to be fine, Alice." He assured her as her arms came up around his neck.
"It's his first birthday with us."
"I know, baby." FP whispered, leaning down to kiss her. Just as his lips were about to meet hers, the doorbell rang. Alice's back straightened and her eyes got wide.
"He's here." She stated, pulling away and going to the front door. FP followed behind her with a chuckle, and he could hear the basement door opening as the kids came upstairs. Alice pulled the door open with a huge smile on her face, and FP's heart felt so big it might explode. He hoped he never had to go another day without seeing her smile like that.
"Happy birthday, honey." She exclaimed as she ushered him in, closing the door before standing on her tip toes to wrap her arms around his neck.
"Thank you." Charles said bashfully as he hugged her back. FP clapped a hand on his shoulder, knowing it would be a minute before Alice let him go.
"Happy birthday, son." He said, looking Charles in the eyes and chuckling. "Al, let the boy breathe please."
"Sorry." Alice said with a smile as she pulled away. "I'm just so glad you're here." She laid her hands on either side of his face.
"Me too, Mom." Charles said sweetly. A timer in the kitchen went off and Alice's ears perked up. She let her hands fall from his face and went into the kitchen, looking over her shoulder with a smile at FP and Charles.
FP looked at his son, still disbelieving that he was really there. Betty, Jughead, and Jellybean walked into the living room.
"Thank god you're here. Alice has been acting like a crazy person all day waiting for you." Jellybean said, earning a chuckle from her siblings. FP gave her a stern look.
"She just wants everything to be perfect, guys. I know she's being a bit much, but it's Charles' first birthday with us and she's been really anxious about it." FP explained quietly so that Alice couldn't hear him. Jellybean's face fell with guilt, feeling bad for making jokes about the woman who was working so hard to create a nice night for their family.
"Well, let's get in there and see her then." Charles smiled and started for the kitchen. He leaned over to FP and whispered, "It's sweet, that she's doing all of this."
"She feels like she has a lot of time to make up for. Just wait until you see your birthday present." FP laughed at how wide his son's eyes became as they rounded the corner into the kitchen.
"Oh good! Come taste this!" Alice ordered Charles over to the stove as she dipped a spoon into the béchamel she'd made. He walked over to her and she held the spoon out for him to taste.
"That is amazing." Charles said with wide eyes. "Maybe the best I've ever had."
"Good. I'm glad you like it." Alice smiled, as she tossed the spoon into the sink.
"This is too much, Mom. I would've been happy with pizza, honestly. Thank you." Charles joked as everyone helped set the table.
"Well, I just wanted to do something special for you." Alice grabbed his hand. "I wish this wasn't the first time I was doing something special for you."
"You took down an entire cult for me. That was pretty special." Charles laughed, and Alice cracked a small smile. "But I know what you mean. It's okay. This is perfect."
Alice could feel her eyes stinging, realizing that it was first time today she had cried. It was six o'clock at night and she had managed to make it this far without a single tear rolling down her face. And for the first time in 26 years, Alice cried happy tears on March 23rd. She couldn't explain the overwhelming feeling of joy that took over as she looked at her son, smiling at her. For years, she thought she'd have to go her entire life without ever knowing what he was like. And then she thought she'd missed her chance completely.
But here he was, giving her the opportunity to love him. One she still didn't feel like she deserved, but one she would gladly take.
FP's hand fell on the small of Alice's back, and she glanced at him for a moment before looking back at Charles.
"We love you so much. Happy birthday, Charles."
A/N: I've been working on this for about three weeks now. A huge thank you to @falicewins for helping me! It definitely wouldn't be posted without her. I really hope you guys liked this!