Remember the trigger warnings, yeah? Great, let's go!
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Alice and Hal sat on one side of the large table in their dining room, facing their youngest daughter whose chin was up, staring them down and waiting for an answer. The two had been given an ultimatum. And it looked like something they couldn't say no to.
"So, let me get this straight," Alice said. "If we want the exclusive to the story—the info that the police aren't giving out, to what happened on the scene. You are going to write it."
"Yes," Betty said, creating a momentary silence.
"I thought you didn't want to study journalism," Hal said, looking confused as to what her daughter's motives were.
"I don't. It's boring," the girl said and inwardly smiled at the way her mother gritted her teeth. "Plus, I've been learning about it since I could read and write and listen. It's easy for me. Photography, on the other hand, is something I'm passionate about and I'd love to get better at."
Hal looked over at his soon-to-be ex-wife who rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut. "And tell me your price again."
"Sixty percent."
"That's not something we even pay ourselves or other professional journalists, Elizabeth. You're a high school student."
"I was planning on asking for seventy-five because it's your paper, but I lowered it down by fifteen percent because obviously you need to print them out and such," Betty explained.
Hal slowly nodded. "I agree."
Alice huffed and crossed her arms. "No! Absolutely not."
Betty bluntly stared at her for a moment before blinking and standing from her chair. "Okay," she said with a shrug. "I'll just sell it around town, then. I'm sure everyone would want to read about what happened to the Serpents, or me, or every other girl in town who has ever been kidnapped."
She made her way toward the front door while her parents shared a look, Hal arching his eyebrows. "It's going to sell, Alice," the man whisper shouted. "Don't be stupid, you know that girl can write."
"Wait," the woman spoke up, and Betty smiled to herself before forcing it down and turning around.
"Yes?"
"Fine," Alice said. "When's the deadline?"
Betty smiled and pulled out a pen drive from her jacket pocket. "Here you go," she said and handed it over to her father who she trusted way more. "I've edited it. I want no words changed. This is my story."
"You got it, honey," Hal said while Alice sighed deeply, planning on at least editing it. There was no way a high school student, even her own daughter, wouldn't make at least one tiny mistake.
"How did it go?" Jughead asked when Betty got back home and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Sixty percent," she said while smiling up at him, and the boy chuckled before planting a soft kiss to her lips. "I'm very proud of you."
"Thank you," Betty smiled and walked into the living room. "Fred?"
"Congrats," the man said, smiling at her.
"Thanks," she giggled and made a face right after. "Look, I gotta go to the library, but I have like five overdue books and all my money's on my bank account..."
The man smirked and sat up. "I've wondered when you'd finally ask me for some money."
"Sorry," she apologized, lip nervously between her teeth.
He chuckled and shook his head. "How much do you need?"
Betty told him the approximate amount, making the man frown and look at her in shock. "Kid, how?"
Both of the teenagers giggled quietly, Jughead watching them from the doorway, hands buried deep into his pockets. "I'll pay you back," Betty promised.
"No," Fred sternly said and took the money from his wallet. "Archie's not around anymore to ask me for money every day, so my wallet is overflowing lately."
All three of them froze at the statement, sharing horrified looks.
They hadn't brought the boy up in a few days, mostly because when they did, someone would get pissed for no reason, and others couldn't contain their emotions.
It had been three weeks since the boy had died, two since the funeral. And, by now, Betty didn't know if she had any tears left at all.
Fred had asked the girl to write a speech for Archie's memorial. Of course, she had sat behind a computer for days, stuck, with her mind blank, and on the very last minute, the night before the funeral, Jughead had told her to write down some of the key memories of Archie that she had told him, knowing it always made her happy thinking about them.
That was exactly what she did, which, of course, made no one leave the funeral without spreading a tear for their redheaded young friend.
"Thanks," Betty quietly said as she accepted the money and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Jug will give me a ride, so we'll be back soon."
The man exhaled, still shocked by his statement and the lack of emotion in it. "I will?" Jughead asked, saving all of them from an awkward situation.
Betty smiled her biggest smile, showing off the two rows of her perfect white teeth. "Won't you?"
The boy narrowed his eyes, watching her for a few moments. Her blond hair was down, dropping onto her back, she was wearing a cute yellow top that suited her amazingly and some high-waisted jeans. Jughead's favorite parts of the outfit were her jacket and the tiny hair clips that pushed back the blond curls from falling into her eyes. The bomber jacket was pastel green, as were the small pearls on the hair clips, and they perfectly showed off her eyes.
"Sure," the boy said and rolled his eyes playfully.
"Be safe," Fred told them both.
The two kids nodded and while Jughead put on his shoes, Betty grabbed both of their helmets. The first thing their (foster?) dad had gotten when the boy moved in was another helmet for when they rode his bike together. The boy had rolled his eyes at it, but he couldn't even fool himself while looking annoyed. He had felt an incredible rush through his spine and wondered if that was what it felt like to be taken care of.
"We sure will."
One of the best parts about the horrible events that had happened a few weeks ago was that the couple didn't have to hide anymore. When they had gone back to school, their hands were linked as they walked down the hallways, Jughead leaning against her locker and twirling with her hair when she took out her books.
And now, as he parked his bike in front of the town library when the girl jumped off and both of the helmets were pulled from their heads, she pressed her lips against his cheek before doing the same to his mouth.
They didn't have to worry about being too passionate or making out too long. Nobody could see them or catch them off guard anymore. And so, the two sank flush against each other's bodies and deepened the kiss as hard as they could.
Betty pulled away a while later, still swooning over his kissing skills and the way his tongue had felt against hers. She smiled breathlessly and patted the boy's cheek twice before letting go of him and skipping away.
Jughead smiled, watching her go, and once she was inside the building, grabbed the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He opened it with a sigh, finding that only two were left next to the lighter. As his fingers worked on lighting the cigarette, he lost his focus for a moment and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground.
It didn't take long for Jughead to realize that it was a few of the younger Serpents that were standing around him in a small circle, one of them leaning over his frame and sneering.
The girl grabbed a cigarette from his hand and brought it to her own lips while straightening up. "Finish with him."
Jughead's eyes grew wide, realizing there were some sharp objects on one of the boys' knuckles. He started shuffling around in the attempt to find something to hold onto—even another foot would've done well—but only a moment later when the girl pressed her foot onto his damaged rib, did he understand that this time, something worse might have happened than just going to the hospital for a few days as he had during the past couple of times during the few weeks.
There were possibilities he would die if the boy with sharp metal knuckles hit him fast and hard enough into the head, bruising his brain.
Before Jughead could think any more, the sharp object collided with his cheek. The blow was so hard that it sent him even harder into the asphalt of the parking lot. And the ones that followed didn't help either.
A few minutes later, he was grunting in pain, his face and arms resembling a Halloween outfit that had been made too over the top, blood everywhere on his body. His head was resting in a red puddle, but fortunately, his arm was still over his eyes, protecting them from getting permanently damaged.
He was crying when another sharp pain smashed his jaw, sending his head to the side and revealing the overly bloody neck of his. Jughead couldn't see, and there was no way he'd remove his arm from his head. He would've rather lost his arm than eyes.
He felt a presence over him before hearing the girl's horrific laughter as she leaned down and pressed the burning cigarette against his neck. Jughead winced and cried out as he helplessly kicked his foot against the girl's body.
He passed out when his stomach received another blow, thinking of the pain and convincing himself he was going to die.
Betty came out of the library and abruptly froze on the door. She couldn't see much, but there were a bunch of young people in leather, Serpent, jackets surrounding their bike, and someone was on the ground.
As she slowly approached them, eyes wide, and heart in her ears, she started seeing all the blood splattered over their bike, the Serpents' clothes, and finally, her eyes landed on her boyfriend.
As a horrified gasp left her mouth, her first thought was that he was dead. She wanted to scream, run there, and kill every single one of the people who had ever hurt Jughead. Yet her muscles were tense and she couldn't move, staring at how yet another person she loved died. She watched the few punches he was given, before realizing someone was grunting.
She forced herself to swallow multiple times, and soon enough lost the sensation of her heart beating in her ear.
Jughead was in pain.
Taking in a sharp breath, her hand reached for the big canister of pepper spray in her pocket just as she saw a girl lean over Jughead and press a cigarette to his neck. And before the girl could realize, her feet had carried her over to the Serpents. She couldn't breathe while she maced every single one of them in the face and watched them fall onto the ground, screaming in pain.
Their hands were moving blindly in the attempt to push the pain out of their eyes, and Betty found herself frozen a moment later, her attention on her boy on the ground. Her mouth got dry and tears swelled up in her eyes as a scream escaped her mouth.
He was dead. He was really dead now.
The blonde had failed to see the one boy who was still standing next to her, without any pain. He had momentarily panicked when seeing all his friends struggling on the ground, but was now back in full force, realizing he was wearing the sharp metal gloves on both hands.
His fist collided with her face just as a few library workers ran outside, phones in their hands. They stood further away, watching the blonde girl fall onto the ground and the muscly boy lean over her, delivering another punch.
Betty's hand reached up as she cried out loud for somebody to help, and her fingers pressed down on the switch, pepper spraying the guy right into his eyes as well.
He fell next to her, screaming and grunting as every other teenager besides Jughead.
The few pairs of horrified eyes stood at the door, staring the horror going down. "A zombie apocalypse," one of them whispered in fear.
They called 911 as every teenager wiggled on the ground beside the bloody boy that lay there frozen. Even they knew that he was dead.
Jughead woke up in a hospital room for the second time in four days. The machines were beeping by his ear in a melody so well-known for him already. He groaned as his eyes opened, one of them only halfway, and head fell to the side, unable to control it.
He felt heavy and sick, and his eyes fell shut right as someone's hand was placed onto his shoulder. "Hey there, bud."
His eyes tiredly opened as he exhaled with another tiny groan. "How are you feeling?" Fred asked as he came into the view.
"I don't know." His words melted together, almost inaudible, but the man could make out what he was saying.
"Do you remember anything?"
"Hurt," he only managed to mutter before his eyes fell back shut.
"Jug, you can't fall asleep," an angel's voice suddenly said. Her hand brushed against his on the other side of the bed. "Come on, open your eyes."
"I'm tired." The words didn't make any sense to neither Betty nor Fred, and he realized it after he hadn't gotten an answer for half a minute. "I'm tired," he said clearer.
"I know," the girl gently said. "But you need to stay awake right now." He didn't answer and was about to let the darkness take over again before he felt her squeezing his hand. "Come on, Juggie. Look at me."
His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he stared at the man in front of him for a moment before managing to move his head to the other side of his neck. His heart started racing, audibly, when Betty tenderly smiled at him.
She was beautiful. Her face was full of plasters, one even over her nose, but as she smiled, he couldn't see them. And at that moment, he didn't realize why her face was bruised. He didn't understand how anyone could hurt it.
"Hi," she whispered, placing her free arm onto the bed next to him and leaning down to comfortably place her chin on it.
"Hi." His hand tried to reach for hers before being struck by a huge load of pain that made him moan.
"Don't move," Fred said on the other side of the bed. "You got pretty roughly beaten up. You're gonna need a while to recover."
Jughead's brain didn't know if he should've been happy or sad at the news. He knew he wasn't dead anymore, and he knew he'd have to stay at the hospital for a while. But latter meant he would be protected from his father and his dreadful gang for a while, while the former meant he could still die later, and go through even worse pain.
For a brief moment, the boy wondered if Archie had suffered as much as he had just some time ago. He wondered if Betty was hurt as much as he was.
And then it hit him.
"Who hit you?" he asked, suddenly more aware of his surroundings than before, the medicine starting to wear off as his whole body burned in pain.
"The boy with those weird gloves," Betty softly said, her hand that wasn't in his caressing his face. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine."
"I need to go."
A frown took over her face. "Where?"
"Away," he just said.
Jughead stared at her face for a while, noticing the question marks in her eyes, the word rallying around in her brain. The moment she realized what he meant, her face wrinkled up in pain. "No," she whispered.
"You got hurt."
"Jughead—"
"I thought I was dead."
His head started to tremble as tears escaped his eyes, and his throat clogged up, making it hard for him to breathe. "Hey," Fred suddenly said when Jughead's neck tensed up and hands trembled as well. "Relax. Don't think about that right now." His voice was gentle but demanding. "You need to relax Jughead."
But he couldn't. The memories were too vivid in front of his eyes, and when he noticed Betty's pained expression, they became alive again. The meds had started wearing off, and the pain struck his body in a flash.
"Get the doctor," Betty cried. Jughead realized he couldn't breathe the exact moment someone in a white robe ran into the room.
He watched what the man was doing for a moment, before having his head turned away by Betty. The girl's hand stayed on his cheek, the other in his hand stroking over his thumb in a relaxed manner.
A mask was applied to his face and the air started streaming in again a moment later as he focused on his girl's face. It had stopped panicking, and as his eyelids drooped, the last thing he remembered was her deep emerald eyes smiling back at him.
Jughead felt much better a few days later. And, unfortunately, his first real Thanksgiving would have to be postponed into next year or whenever he was going to have one, because this time, he was spending it in the hospital.
He was attached to his hospital bed every day unless he had to go to a bathroom. He got one of the beds that would help him sit up, and the boy smirked at the buttons when they had been introduced to him a few days back. They were entertaining when he had to be alone in the room. He had never felt more like a little kid than he did while playing with them.
Betty's face was healing, and her bruised nose was returning to its normal color. Jughead still felt guilty about what had happened, but they hadn't brought his leaving up again after his last panic attack.
"Baby, you should go," Jughead said when he looked at the time and saw it was almost lunch.
"No," she replied. "They'll be perfectly fine without me."
"You need to eat."
"Which is exactly what I don't want to do with them."
Jughead sighed and rolled his eyes. "You promised to go eat lunch with your family. And then you can spend the whole Thanksgiving evening and dinner in this painfully white hospital room with me and our fake adoptive dad, just like you want."
Betty smirked at his words and rolled her eyes back at him. "I'd much more prefer spending my lunch here with my loving boyfriend as well."
"And I'd prefer you ate some real food."
"And I'd—"
"Betty," Jughead cut her off, serious now. The girl's face fell and she turned her head away, sighing. "You need to go. You promised."
"Why are you trying to get rid of me?"
"I'm not. But you promised. And you haven't even seen your siblings or nephew and niece yet, even though they've been here for a day already."
The girl kept sitting on the place, still not facing him, and Jughead rummaged in his brain for a while, trying to find the problem. He weighed the possibility of her not wanting to leave because she was scared to go outside and get hurt again, but he knew his girlfriend too well to know it was him he would be worried about if she left. And then, another possibility showed itself, and Jughead sighed, reaching for her hand on the side of his bed.
"Baby?" he asked with a gentle tone.
The girl only hummed, but even then he could hear the pain in her voice.
"Look at me," he whispered.
Betty knew he had realized. And so, she turned back to him while wiping away her tears. "I really don't wanna go," she whispered.
"It's gonna be okay," he softly said. "I promise. You're gonna get to be with your siblings for an hour or so. And you're gonna eat really good food and enjoy it."
She sniffled after chuckling. "I don't know about enjoying it with them..."
"It's gonna be okay," he promised again. "Cheryl will be there. She'll look after you."
"I don't need a babysitter, Jug," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I just don't feel comfortable sitting there with my mother and eating while she's mentally drawing a cross to my forehead, planning on killing me later."
Jughead chuckled, and she joined soon after. "While I know that you're scared and worried and extremely uncomfortable, you're also very overdramatic."
"I know," Betty sighed.
The boy reached his hand to her face and Betty leaned down, giving him the kiss he had been asking for. "Go," he whispered against her lips after it, kissing them once more. "I love you."
"I love you too," she said and with a sigh, stood up. "I'll be back soon, okay?"
"I've got my phone if you need to call me," Jughead said.
"The doctors are in the hallway if you need help," she said the same way.
The two smiled at each other for a moment before the girl gave him a small wave and walked out the door, nibbling on her lip. Jughead sighed as the door closed, sinking back into the mattress, and in his head, went over the plan.
He grabbed his laptop and went to google, checking his mail from the public university he had earned a scholarship to with his book. There was one.
He clicked and waited until it loaded with the slow hospital Wi-Fi, aware that if they had managed to find him an apartment, his life would be forever changed.
Betty felt excluded at the table. The house that was supposed to feel like home and the people around the table like family, didn't feel that way. Of course, she loved her brother and her sister (even though both of them were spoiled and could be pains in the ass sometimes) and her little niece and nephew, but neither her mother nor her father spoke a word to her.
She had already been criticized by her mother earlier for not wearing a dress, and even though it had left her unaffected, she was infuriated that even as Alice wasn't a part of her life anymore, she could still make her feel a bit insecure.
Betty's face was beaten up and while both her sister and brother had touched it in a gentle way before, looking worried, her mother had practically sneered into her face and rolled her eyes.
The doorbell rang, pulling Betty out of her thoughts. She looked up as Polly went to open it, her tired-looking baby girl trailing after her. The blonde felt hopeful for a moment, praying that Fred was there, coming to get her already, but the tad of hope faded away once she heard Penelope Blossom's voice.
Then, another light flashed in her head and Betty stood up from her chair, lifting her nephew with her. "Let's go say hi to auntie Cherry."
The little boy's head eagerly bobbed up and down and she kissed his red hair, carrying them over to the door.
"Hi," Cheryl immediately said with a smile on her face and hugged both Betty and her nephew, taking him into her arms. "Oh, you've gotten so big."
The little boy giggled and the redhead kissed his cheek. "Go say hi to your grandma and grandpa."
She put him onto the ground and when the boy scurried off elsewhere, faced Betty again. "Well hello there."
"Hi," the blonde giggled and wrapped her best friend up in her arms again.
"Our English teacher wanted me to tell you that you got an extra A+ for the article you wrote."
Betty chuckled and shook her head as they pulled away. "Well, tell her thanks the next time you see her, then."
Cheryl smiled, before directing her eyes onto the girl's face. "Ow," she mumbled for her, almost wincing as she looked at her. The band-aids that had been on her skin earlier to stop it from bleeding had been removed, and now the cuts were painfully visible on Betty's face. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," the blonde reassured. They stood there for a minute, the redhead gently fondling her soft fingers over her best friend's face before sighing and letting her hand drop. "Look," Betty quietly murmured, her head down. "I'm not comfortable eating with all those people. Can you change the topic whenever someone says or asks me something about my disorder?"
Cheryl sadly exhaled. "Of course," she softly said. "I'm here for you, Sunflower."
Betty raised her eyes, and even though tears glimmered in them already and her throat felt a little tight, she chuckled. "You too?"
The redhead smiled and shrugged. "Toni calls you that, it's stuck."
Betty shook her head with a miniature smile and carefully blinked away her tears, not desiring to get another lecture from her mother about her badly applied mascara.
"Let's go," Cheryl said and gently took the girl's arm, pulling her toward the dining room.
It wasn't usual to have lunch with the whole family on Thanksgiving, and most people only ate some snacks during the day, getting ready for their big meal that night. But, since Polly and the kids were going to the Blossoms' place with the promise to eat dinner at the Coopers' on Christmas, Alice had cooked a pretty big meal, even though she still needed to make food for the night.
The two girls sat down side by side and had a small conversation as everyone started filling their plates. They talked about small, unimportant things, but once everyone was allowed to start eating, Cheryl took her first bite and asked the question she hadn't had the guts to ask before while everyone could listen.
"How's Jughead?"
"Not good," Betty said back quietly. "He needs to stay at the hospital for another week."
"Why? I thought he was recovering?"
"He is, but he's had a few pretty bad panic attacks that take the ability to breathe away from him, so he needs to stay under the watch for a while."
"Did he meet his therapist?"
"Yeah," Betty mumbled and glared down her mother who seemed interested in their conversation. Alice rolled her eyes and joined one with Penelope. "Have you talked with Toni?"
"Of course," the redhead chuckled. "What about her?"
"Does she talk about going away?"
The two of them fell silent, both of their expressions suddenly scared as they shared a gaze. "Yeah," the girl quietly whispered, a quiver in her voice. "She's not telling me anything more, though."
"Jughead doesn't elaborate either," Betty mumbled. "But I think they're all planning on going together."
"Kevin says the same..."
They didn't talk anymore and started eating. Cheryl talked with Polly and Jason for a while, while Betty just shared a few words with her brother and spent the rest of the time picking on her food. The redhead made sure she'd finish what was on her plate, though, and Betty was thankful for that.
Jughead's mouth started watering as he watched Fred slicing the pumpkin pie Betty had made the night before. He had never really eaten a pie quite like this but judging from his girlfriend's other ones that he had eaten, he was going to love this one, as well.
"Stop drooling," Betty said, smirking at his face.
The boy directed his eyes onto her and chuckled, rolling his eyes a bit. "I was not."
"You were."
"Were not."
"I'd believe Betty in this specific case," Fred agreed with a smirk, not even having to see the teenagers' faces to know that Betty was right.
The two laughed at the statement and Betty crossed one leg over the other just as the man served both of them a slice on a plastic plate. "This is like the best Thanksgiving I've ever had. No family drama. Nothing."
Betty's statement left the two guys smiling. "I've never really had a Thanksgiving, so same," Jughead said.
Fred sighed at them, shaking his head a little. "Okay, before we eat—"
He was cut off by Jughead groaning, his fork already in the dessert. "Come on," the boy whined.
"You're the one who said you've never had a Thanksgiving," the mad said. "Now. I know we already ate the main dish and all but tell us what you're thankful for this year."
Jughead sighed and turned his head away, looking slightly annoyed. But Betty smirked as she looked over at Fred and then back at Jughead. She knew the boy had trouble expressing his feelings. And she was certain Fred already knew he was thankful for him. But she, as well as him, wanted to hear it.
"Come on," she encouraged.
Jughead turned to look at both of them, running his bruised hand through his hair, the beanie resting next to his pillow on the bed he was sitting on. "I'm thankful for the two of you."
That was the only thing he said before quickly filling his mouth with a big bite from the pie and groaning in joy, making the other two laugh. "Me too," Betty quietly said to a smiling Fred who proceeded to kiss her forehead.
The girl started quietly eating the slice of her pie, deeply enjoying it. She hadn't taken as much food for the real dinner, though had still managed to consume a good amount of the turkey, gravy, and mashed potatoes that Fred had made. And now, as she was about to finish her slice, she knew she'd take one more.
Jughead's plate was already empty and he was holding it out toward Fred who worked as his legs, knowing it still hurt for the boy to walk. The man grinned at him, finishing his last bite as well, and took his plate, walking to the pie to place one more slice on each of their plates.
"Hey, didn't you bring any whipped cream?" Jughead reminded him.
The man smiled, surprised that he hadn't remembered before, and grabbed it, applying a good amount of it to Jughead's slice, and just a little for himself.
"You guys are ruining my pie," Betty playfully grumbled when she saw the mountain of the white cream on Jughead's plate.
"I'm gonna eat some more before this, without whipped cream, if that makes you happy, baby," the boy grinned.
Betty rolled her eyes with a smirk and watched how Fred handed the plate back to Jug and ruffled his hair before sitting back down with a satisfied smile.
When the girl finished her slice, she stood up, and both of the guys fell quiet, watching her walk to the small table. She lifted another slice for herself as well and already took a bite out of it before turning around and freezing, realizing both of the men were smiling at her.
"What?"
"Nothing," they both said together, grinning.
The blonde rolled her eyes. "At least I'm not ruining it with store-bought shit that's only chemicals and nothing else."
The guys chuckled together and her fierce tone, watching her sit down.
"You know, you could've told me you wanted some, I could've made you my own."
"You know how to make whipped cream?" Jughead asked, eyes wide and excited.
Betty rolled her eyes with a giggle and nodded.
"I don't wanna ruin this night," Betty started when it was close to the time Jughead would get his medicine before going to sleep, "but I need to ask you something."
"Me?" the boy questioned, twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers and relaxing in his bed, the girl by his side and Fred on the chair next to them.
"Both of you."
"Let's hear it," Fred reluctantly said.
Betty moved her eyes onto his worried face and bit her lip. "I don't like you two lying to me."
Jughead tensed up a little, already foreseeing the question she was about to ask.
"Where are you planning on going, when, with who, and for how long?" she quickly asked.
The silence took over the room, neither of the guys planning on answering the question, mostly because they didn't want to tell her before there was only a week left. They didn't need to freak her out even more.
"Answer me," she whispered in a broken voice, tears already surfacing, unable to hold them back.
"We talked with Sheriff Keller."
"Fred—"
"She has the right to know, Jug," the man said and looked back at the girl. "Remember the contests he entered?"
Betty nodded.
"Well, he won one of them. It was made by a university in England. And he was given a scholarship."
Betty's eyes got wide as she turned to look at Jughead. The boy couldn't make out her emotions, but he thought fear and proudness were behind her glassy eyes. He reached his hand to her face to wipe away the trail of tears on her face.
"And?" she whispered.
"Sheriff Keller talked with one of his friends in the UK police force, in the same city. They know about the situation, and they have taken down a few traffickers themselves, just like here in the US... And they managed to get Jughead and his friends an apartment in the city, that of course, is a little smile and they'd all have to pay for, but the police have guaranteed they'd get jobs."
Betty inhaled shakily, trying to hold back her tears and cries, but breaking just a little when Jughead's hand brushed her cheek as if it would be the last time. "When?" she just whispered.
They would go. He would leave. He would leave and possibly never come back. She'd lose everything.
The thoughts rummaged around her brain, but what Jughead stated next was what finally made her sob. "The second week of December, on different flights, me, Joaquin and Toni will go."
Betty didn't care about where Sweet Pea and Fangs would go at that moment. She didn't care that the two people closest to her in life were both watching her. She just turned around and wrapped her arms around Jughead, a raspy sob escaping her throat.
She was going to lose him, too.
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If all of you vote right now, there might be another chapter today, let's say at like midnight.