CHAPTER SIXTEEN
°⋆∴☽°:۵≼
i. happy endings !
— IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG BEFORE POLICE CARS SURROUNDED THE AREA, the loud, bright blue and red lights becoming blinding in the darkness of early morning.
Kevin expected a similar situation to when they found Jason Blossom's body at Sweetwater river, but he never could have anticipated the scene before him as his father grabbed Johnny's shoulders and forced his arms behind his back, beginning to read him his Miranda warning.
"Jonathan King I'm placing you under arrest for first degree murder and kidnapping-" Tom Keller spoke, holding the brunet boy's wrists together and pulling out a pair of shiny metal handcuffs.
"Dad!" Kevin's eyes widened, looking at Johnny, who refused to meet his gaze.
"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will," The Sheriff slapped one cuff on his wrist, tightening it. "Be used against you in the court of law-"
"Dad, what the hell are you doing?" Kevin asked, leaning forward to try and- try and what, he didn't know. Diffuse the situation? Johnny was literally getting put in handcuffs, how could he possibly diffuse this situation.
Tom Keller seemed to ignore his son's presence, "You have the right to a lawyer, if you cannot afford a lawyer one will be appointed to represent you before questioning."
"Dad I-" Kevin began to argue.
"Kevin, he's the only survivor in a kidnap and killing case, he's managed to influence both you and that psych patient over there away from society and safety in just two hours, and he's led you to two other victims." The sheriff snapped, "Now tell me none of that don't scream 'guilty'. I'd be an idiot not to arrest him."
"No, dad, you need someone to blame and Johnny is the most convenient answer!" Kevin growled back, "As per usual you just want this swept under the rug so the sheriff's station doesn't look like a bunch of idiots."
"Watch your tone."
"Or what, Dad, you'll arrest me?" Kevin asked. "Because that's the easy way out, right?"
"Skittles," Johnny finally spoke, his arms already sore from the awkward angle but it felt disturbingly familiar. "Don't fight it, it's okay."
Kevin felt as his heart raised to his throat, causing it to tighten as his voice strained to speak clearly.
"You know you're innocent though, Johnny." He muttered, pressing a hand to the side of Jonathan's neck- as some form of comfort. "You know it."
"Do I?" Johnny whispered. "I haven't been able to tell wrong from real recently." His eyes caught Chris, looking on at the scene in fear, his eyes a haunted blue as they looked nearly frozen.
"Was that a confession, son?" Tom Keller leaned towards him.
"Fuck off, Dad!" Kevin dropped his hand from Johnny and used it to push his father away.
"Skittles- stop. Just let it happen, it's okay." Johnny insisted.
Kevin fell silent, maybe to go along with what Johnny had asked, or maybe just in utter shock and disbelief.
Andie was only a few paces away, being looked over by a paramedic to make sure no harm had come to her, but she noticed the handcuffs on Johnny and broke free from the authorities, moving towards him on wobbly legs as Tom Keller spoke with another officer.
"Johnny?" Her voice was small, and quiet, but the sound alone made Jonathan's head perk back up. "Johnny, what's going on."
Johnny forced a smile, but it was shaky and so blatantly fake, "Hey Rosie." He said, so obviously not wanting her to see him like this. "Everything's fine, okay? Just let Meredith take care of you- let Andie's foster parents take care of you, you're gonna be okay."
If Kevin's heart wasn't broken before, this has certainly shattered it as he realized Johnny was speaking to a child. A child that saw him as someone she could trust.
"What about you, Johnny?" The way she spoke so innocently was physically painful to both boys, and they were unsure of what to do.
But Jonathan King pulled through, "Rosie, I'm not gonna be around for a while, but you're gonna stay strong for me right?"
The girl was beginning to get pulled away by a paramedic again, but she called out in agreement.
And once she was out of view Johnny's gaze returned to the dirt ground, avoiding eye contact with Kevin and trying to keep himself from looking up at the two body bags being hoisted into the paramedic vehicle.
"Where's the other kid, Johnny?" Tom Keller asked, still holding the boy's cuffed wrists. "Or did you lie about that too, huh? Answer me, son."
"D-Don't- don't do it J-Johnny." Chris finally spoke, "Re-ally, I'm- really I'm fine."
Johnny ignored the pale boy, turning his head to the side to be sure the sheriff could hear his response, "We think he's near Sweetwater river."
Kevin's heart stopped. If they really did find Chris' body down at the river, Kevin was sure it wouldn't look good for Johnny's case.
"We'll see about that." The sheriff huffed, tugging Johnny into the backseat of his cruiser.
— KEVIN HAD BEEN FORCED OUT OF THE CAR AS SOON AS THEY GOT TO SWEETWATER RIVER. He watched as about a dozen people, armed with flashlights, spread out along the area.
It took no time finding the body.
Chris' body was found no less than twenty five feet away from where the sheriff's cruiser was parked. Johnny could see as they brought the body up on a stretcher, covered from head to toe in a thin sheet.
He could feel the presence in the seat next to him. The cold, kind presence of the most innocent kid he had known.
"I had to let them find you, Chris." Johnny stated, unable to tear his eyes away from the stretcher to face the boy beside him. "I couldn't leave you alone out there."
It was quiet for a moment, before Chris spoke, his voice fading and falling on straining ears.
"B-but Johnny," He shivered. "Now you're the- the one who's alone."
And he was. Alone in the back of the sheriff's cruiser, with his arms wrenched awkwardly behind his back.
He guessed it was a little ironic, but he felt numb. His shoulders only itched slightly in discomfort, looking away from the scene, as a pain erupted in his chest.
That's when Kevin looked up from the thin sheet laid out over the pale blue body, being lifted from the banks of Sweetwater river, he looked up to the beautiful woman in the sky, twirling in her dress of breathtaking colours. The sunrise.
Just like he always had, like he always remembered doing, Kevin turned away from the beauty to catch a glimpse of Jonathan King, and those enchanting chocolate eyes.
But when Kevin looked back through the window of his father's car, Jonathan, for once, wasn't looking back.
Those chocolate eyes didn't look so sweet anymore, instead they were hardened and dark- like the jagged rocks in the water that lay beneath a cliff.
Hard and dark and cold.
Kevin was barely paying attention when he heard his father order another officer, "Get to the hospital and search through his things. These boys were shot, so you're looking for a gun."
For a moment Kevin had hope.
They wouldn't find anything.
Jonathan King would be released for lack of evidence against him and Kevin, Betty and Veronica would be back to visit him in the psych ward soon. Maybe he'd even get to go home.
Everything would be fine. Maybe, just maybe, everything would go back to the way it was before all of this mess, and they could finally be happy and at peace.
Maybe.
— THE PSYCH WARD WAS PAINTED IN DIFFERENT SHADES OF RED, as the sunrise beamed through the windows. In twenty seven minutes an officer would arrive at the hospital to search Jonathan King's belongings. He wouldn't find anything.
If only this story were that simple.
A creaking door bursts through the silence, as a man enters the room, carrying a tray of bandages and disinfectant, with medical odds and ends littering the surface.
He walks past each bed, setting the tray down at the foot of one that held a clipboard, stating the patient normally residing in that bed had dissociative identity disorder. He stopped at the one that read 'Jonathan King', grabbing a latex glove off the medical tray.
He was familiar with the patient, having spoken to him once or twice about the boy's stitches.
The man lifted the mattress, observing the solid bed frame before looking towards the doors of the ward and, using the latex glove, pulled a small handgun out of his scrub's pocket, placing it carefully on the frame.
And then he lowered the mattress, hearing the metal clunk slightly as the soft material bounced it into the frame.
He then tucked the glove in his pocket, grabbed the tray, and left without a sound.
— JUGHEAD JONES SAT SLOUCHED OVER HIS COMPUTER IN HIS BOOTH AT POP'S, a basket of fries cooling next to him as he wrote the final words of his first draft.
Some stories just don't have happy endings.
author's note
I ACTUALLY DID IT ITS DONE OMG IM SO— ??
THANK YOU FOR READING !!! ♥️