Chapter Text
“Forsythe Pendleton Jones.”
When Betty excused herself, she just wanted another look at the carving in the tree. She knew Jughead did it, and she just wanted to know what it meant. But this time, it felt different. Because this time, she figured it out.
Before taking the flight that would ultimately lead to her doom, she was proposed to cover a story over a woman whose son was lost mysteriously during a fishing trip with his father. She remembered his name.
Forsythe Jones.
It had to be him, right? It couldn’t just be coincidental. Betty often liked to consider herself a modern day version of Nancy Drew, but was this a far reach?
Now he’s standing there, eyes widened and face pale, and she’s worried that she just screwed up whatever they had between them. Maybe she should have just kept it to herself.
“Betty...” Jughead croaked, not sure how to handle the situation.
“Is that your name?” Betty questioned, not wanting to back down, even though she should have. “Forsythe Pendleton Jones?”
He didn’t answer right away. He broke eye contact and looked at the ground, as if he was ashamed of something. If Betty could have one super power in the world right now, it would be to read minds.
“The Third.”
Betty blinked, surprised. “What?”
“My full name is Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third,” he clarified. “My father’s name was Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Second, not that that’s important anyway. But please, for the love of God, don’t call me Forsythe.”
Betty wasn’t sure how to process any of this, she wasn’t used to Jughead displaying any sort of his background. She wasn’t sure if she should be scared or excited. Perhaps both.
Jughead took a step closer. “How did you figure it out? My name, I mean.”
“I-I,” she stuttered, suddenly forgetting how to speak. “I had to cover a story for a missing boy and his name was Forsythe Jones. When I saw the tree carving I just made the connection... I’m so sorry, Jug-“
“You don’t have to be sorry, Betty,” Jughead spoke, shaking his head. “I should’ve just told you about me when I asked, instead of hiding my identity.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Betty said.
Jughead placed his hands on both her shoulders and spoke in a hoarse voice, “I’m going to tell you.”
She nodded. He took a deep breath and began, “My dad was a gang member. They were called the Serpents. When I was sixteen, I was recruited to join them.”
He noticed the widening of her eyes at the mention of being in a gang, but she didn’t say anything. She also wasn’t passing any sort of judgment (yet), so that must be a good sign.
“The Serpents dealt heavily in drugs, and in most cases, resorted to acts of violence. My parents were divorced, my mum taking my sister and my father opting to take me. But I wanted to go with my mum, and I didn’t want to join the Serpents. My dad saw me as a disappointment.
“Eventually I did join the gang, you know, to stop my dad from hitting me. I never told my mum that I joined because she would hate me as well, and I loved her so much. I also wanted to protect my little sister. I hated being a Serpent, fucking hated it. Yes, I traded drugs and yes, I had to beat the shit out of some people. But I refused to commit murder.
“Five years ago, I left my mum’s house, and I kissed her on the cheek and told her that I loved her. Then I met up with my abusive alcoholic father and he decided to take me on a fishing trip. Only problem is that he wasn’t planning on us actually fishing. He was planning to murder me.
“You see, I did quite well as a Serpent despite not killing anybody. I managed to keep peace between rivaling gangs and we became a low key group. My dad thought I was a weak piece of shit. He wanted to be the leader, but the rest of the gang planned for me to be the leader as soon as I turned eighteen, which was coming up soon.
“He rented out this crappy boat for us to take and as soon as we were far away enough from civilization, that’s when he pulled out his gun. He kept swearing and screaming and threatening me, and all I could think about was my mum and my little sister. I didn’t want to die. I did the only thing I could’ve done - defend myself.
“When my dad pulled the trigger, I quickly ducked and hid behind a couple of boxes. He swore and ran towards me and I tripped him... he fell into the water. I don’t know if he survived or not... the boat drifted away. I was too far to signal for help, and there was a storm brewing, so the boat kept drifting and I figured that I should have just let my father kill me.
“The next thing I know, I opened my eyes and I was at this island. I wasn’t sure if it was a miracle or karma getting at me for being a gang member. The first few weeks, I was depressed. I was lonely and homesick and just... miserable. Then I got used to it, and I started to actually enjoy this place. I felt free, and not glued to a life of crime. Five years later, you came. And here we are.”
Jughead was crying, and Betty’s heart had broken during the story. She felt embarrassed because her life was nowhere near as bad as his.
“Please don’t be scared of me, Betty,” Jughead croaked, looking into her eyes. “I didn’t mean to...”
“I’m not scared of you, Jughead,” Betty told him, pulling him into a hug. “This doesn’t change the way I see you, and it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, nothing was ever your fault. This just makes me understand you a little better... But your past doesn’t define you. Jughead... you define you. You’re... you.”
Jughead, with tears in his eyes, smiled at the blonde. His eyes lowered to her soft, pink lips and suddenly all the despair that he has ever felt suddenly disappears.
“Can I kiss you, Betty?” Jughead asked.
“Of course you can, Juggie.”
So he did. He pressed his lips against hers and he actually felt something different than hunger, thirst, pain, guilt, exhaustion, and misery: he felt desire. He felt lust. He felt important.
He felt wanted.
Betty had never felt this way with a kiss before. Sure, she’s had her fair share (though minimal) kisses with boys but nothing compared to the feeling she’s receiving as Jughead wraps his arms around her closer and deepens their kiss.
She was in a state of pure euphoria.
Jughead wanted to kiss her harder. He wanted more, even though he could never get enough. The two found themselves with Betty pinned against the carved tree and Jughead towering over her, kissing her sweet soft lips at a different angle. He hasn’t done this in a long time, but with Betty, it’s as though the talent never left him.
Betty wondered how many other girls he had done this with. She wondered how many other girls he had liked doing this with. Or was she the only one?
The two eventually pulled apart, both out of breath.
“Wow,” panted Betty.
“I know,” smirked Jughead. “What do we do now?”
“As amazing as it was and how much I’d love to do it again, I’m tired,” she laughed. “Can we go to sleep?”
“Of course, Betts,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and leading her towards the cabin.
She yawns, and says, “We have a lot to talk about tomorrow, Juggie.”
“Of course we do,” he agreed. “Sweet dreams, princess.”
The pair fell asleep with smiles on their faces.
-
Hal knew Veronica Lodge Andrews and Alice Cooper were up to something. He wasn’t quite sure what, but he knew the pair were conspiring together in secret whenever he planned the memorial service for his deceased daughter.
Alice Cooper suddenly went from devastated to decent, and even managed to merge back into the character she was once before. She even began answering the phone again, always wanting to be the first to answer despite who was on the Caller I.D.
“Mayor McCoy expresses her deepest condolences for the loss of our daughter.” Alice purses her lips as she hung up the phone. “Never did like that woman. She’s a shitty liar as she is a mayor.”
Polly Cooper even showed up, despite her rather estranged relationship with her parents. But she desperately loves Betty, and after discovering the news, was a total wreck.
“Why’d she have to be a journalist anyway,” Polly cried into the arms of her mother. “Why couldn’t she have been a mechanic? Or get knocked up like me so she wouldn’t have to use air transportation?”
Hal was living in a madhouse. Betty’s gone, Polly and her kids have shown up, Veronica is around a lot more than she should be, and Alice is acting suspicious.
Across the small town of Riverdale, Archie sat in the living room with Kevin Keller, whose cheeks stained with tears as he just couldn’t stop crying since he discovered Betty’s passing.
“Veronica thinks Betty is alive?” Kevin snorted. “You sure married one hell of an optimist, Andrews.”
“I know, but I think it’s just how she’s coping with it,” Archie sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “She’ll come to terms with it eventually, maybe after the memorial service.”
“Every time I think about it, I burst into tears,” Kevin confessed. “Betty was the sweetest, most understanding person in the world. She was the first person I came out too. And she constantly expressed her fear of planes. Poor girl, she must have been so terrified...”
Archie placed a comforting hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “She’s in a better place now, Kev. Someone’s taking care of her.”
-
“Good morning, love.”
Betty decided that waking up to Jughead Jones was the most beautiful sight ever. He leaned down and pressed their lips together, capturing a short but sweet kiss.
“Good morning,” she replies. “How’d you sleep?”
“To be quite honest, it was the best sleep I have gotten in the past few years,” Jughead tells her. “You?”
“I slept wonderful,” she said. “Hey, I’ve got a question.”
“Shoot.”
“How’d you get the nickname Jughead?” she questioned. “I’m just curious.”
Jughead squinted his eyes, actually trying to think. “Well, it’s practically been my nickname all my life but I think when I was around three, I got my head stuck in this big ass jug.”
Betty giggled. “How did you get your head stuck in a jug?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you honestly see a future with me?” Jughead asked, chewing on the bottom of his lip out of a nervous habit. “Like, if we somehow get miraculously off this island. Would you still want to be with me?”
“Of course, Juggie,” Betty spoke warmly. “No matter where we go or what happens, my feelings are too strong for you for us to just be nothing. You’re special to me. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”
“Typically, before a relationship starts, dates are rather important,” he began, taking a piece of her hair and twirling it mindlessly with his finger. “But seeing as we’re in an unusual situation and have no way to go on a first date to some high class establishment, we shouldn’t have to follow society’s normal standards of becoming a couple. So...”
Betty raised her eyebrow, knowing exactly where he was going with this. “So?”
“Please be my girlfriend?” Jughead blurted.
She smiled widely, nodding her head profusely. “As long as you’ll be my boyfriend.”
“Deal.”
Jughead intertwined their hands together, and for the first time in five years, he felt completely whole. All this time, he felt as though he was missing something. And despite not knowing of her existence...
He was missing Betty Cooper.