Work Text:
He didn’t recognize himself in the mirror in the morning.
He looked gaunt, with sunken, sallow cheeks. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and squinted at his reflection. The deep, almost purple bags under his eyes made him look like hadn’t slept in days, maybe weeks.
It wasn’t a sudden, overnight change. It had happened slowly until one day, he wasn’t Jughead Jones anymore. If anything, he was a hollow version of who he used to be.
His mouth seems to be twisted into a permanent scowl; he couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled and meant it.
Well, that wasn’t true. In fact, he could probably pinpoint the last moment the corners of his mouth had turned upwards.
It about three months ago, sitting across from Betty Cooper in a booth at Pop’s. Back when she was still his and he was still hers. No matter how gloomy he was feeling, Betty could pull even the smallest of smiles from him. She was warm where he was cool, light where he was dark. He never knew how much he really, truly needed her until he didn’t have her anymore.
Jughead sighed, turning away from the mirror. He knew he had no one to blame but himself. No matter what she said or did, no matter how often she assured him of her love for him, he always felt—no, knew—that she deserved more. He loved her enough to know that she should be given the world. He loved her enough to let her go. So he did.
It’s for the best, he thinks. Someday, he hopes he believes it but so far, he knows it’s the furthest thing from the truth.
**
He remembered the first time he slipped on the leather jacket handed to him by the Serpents so clearly. He felt acknowledged, accepted. Powerful, even.
A small part of him knew the jacket would come with a price, but a split second, he didn’t care. He belonged somewhere for once, amongst people who were willing to look out for him.
But the jacket came to symbolize his choosing a side. It was a symbol of his loyalty to a group everyone in Riverdale chose to blame for their troubles. People he had know his whole life began to eye him wearily. Whether she knew it or not, Betty was among them.
At least Pop Tate gave him the benefit of the doubt. The first time he strolled into his favorite last night establishment wearing his jacket, he only paused for a moment, nodded to him as usual, and went about his business.
So Pop’s was still a safe haven for him. But to avoid confrontations (and really, to avoid Betty and the Riverdale crowd), Jughead had started to slip in through a backdoor no one seemed to remember existed. Instead of his usual booth near the front, he chose one in a poorly lit corner. These small changes made what was once so familiar now feel foreign. But whether Jughead knew it or not, it was his only way to cling to what used to be. Even when things would never be the same.
It’s in this new booth where he finds himself tonight, free of the Serpents and any “small favors” they might ask of him. He has his laptop out in front of him, with a blank document taking up his screen. For a split second, he’s his old self. The old version of that Betty looked at so lovingly months ago.
It’s also where Toni finds him half an hour later. She silently moves to sit across from him, waving to Pop before turning to eye him warily. He only acknowledges her presence with a slight nod of his head.
Toni Topaz seemed to be Jughead’s only friend these days, no matter how stubbornly he resisted her friendship. Initially, when they first, she was flirtatious and bold as she led him through the halls of Southside High. But even Toni could see how devoted he was to Betty and vice versa. She instead became oddly protective of Jughead, insisting on checking in on him as he slipped further and further into darkness. In the days after his break-up with Betty, she firmly but quietly hung around, even when he snapped at her to fuck off and go away.
“It’s not me you’re mad at, Jughead,” she had said. “You’re mad at yourself. And you’re eventually gonna realize how badly you screwed up and go crawling back to Betty, begging for forgiveness. Until then, I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything else equally stupid.”
And Toni had kept her word. But Jughead had yet to approach Betty since he had harshly broken her heart (and really, his own as well) in a backwards attempt at keeping her safe and out of harm’s way.
Toni stays quiet for a few moments, watching him blankly stare at the bright screen in front of him before announcing, “You look like shit, Jug.”
Jughead looks up at her, eyes narrowed. “Gee, thanks pal,” he sneers.
She shrugs, smiling brightly at their waitress as a large basket of fries was placed on their table. She grabs a few fries and pops them into her mouth before responding. “Just telling it like it is, pal. You been getting any sleep?”
He snorts. “Do I look like I’m sleeping?”
She frowns at him in response. “I thought we talked about this, man. You gotta turn your brain off, stop torturing yourself. Will you at least think about talking to her? Text her or something, try to gauge her reaction. She doesn’t hate you, you know. If anything, she just might surprise you.”
Jughead hears her words but fails to process them. Halfway through Toni’s speech, the front door to Pop’s chimes and in walks Betty, followed by Archie, Veronica, and Kevin. Everything around him fades away as he focused on the blonde girl he still ached for.
His heart raced at the sight of her. Jughead knew from where he and Toni were sitting, they were safely out of sight. On the outside looking in, he thinks sadly.
Toni follows his line of view, turning her head to look behind her. She sighs heavily at the sight of his old friends before turning back around. “You’re not gonna go say hi or anything?”
He shakes his head. “No. She’s better off. They all are.” If anything, he wants to head for the nearest exist without being seen. But as his former friends settled into their booth and looked around the diner, it was far too risky of a move.
Instead, in an attempt to distract himself, Jughead turns his attention back to his blank screen.
His novel on Jason Blossom’s murder was saved on his desktop, nearly complete. He desperately wants to finish it, because so far it had been the only story worth telling. But without Betty, it seemed pointless.
Betty. He could hear her talking across the room, followed by her laughter. The sound made his heart twist tightly.
Tried as he might to fight it, Betty was his motivation, his muse. That’s why instead of finishing his novel, all he could seem to write letters to her.
Letters that apologized profusely, letters that described his feelings for her. How he couldn’t sleep anymore, haunted by the tears in her eyes as she begged him not to go, not to let them be driven apart by their town’s civil war. How if he could go back and do it all again, he would chose her every time.
He never deletes the letters, but saves them in a folder labelled ‘For Betty’ tucked away on his hard drive. Dozens and dozens of drafts that no one else will ever read but him.
Before Jughead even realizes it, he’s tapping away at his keyboard. He glances away from the screen to catch a glimpse of Betty’s face. She’s smiling and nodding at Kevin, who’s sitting next to her.
His letters to her are never especially long and this one is no different.
‘I just want you to be happy, even if it’s without me,’ his fingers type out. ‘That’s all I ever wanted.’
The front door chimes again and he hears Archie’s voice call out a greeting to whoever walks in. Jughead looks up again and sees Trev approach their table. Betty smiles up at him from her seat, greeting him warmly.
Jughead frowns at the sight, remembering all too well the jealousy that had seeped into his bones when he thought Betty and Trev were going out on a date. That seems like a lifetime ago.
And Trev is here now, still soft spoken and kind, unlike his fellow jock brethren. He pulls up a chair to join Betty and his former friends, obscuring her face from his view.
‘I thought I was doing the right thing, Betts. Maybe in a way, I still am. It’s killing me to be without you. Toni says I’m wasting away right in front of her and maybe she’s right. I’m torn between doing the right thing and doing what I want. But in the end, you’re all that matters. So I can’t bring myself to be selfish, no matter how much I want to.’
Jughead faintly hears his name being called in the distance and panics for a moment, thinking he’s been spotted in the back of the diner. But then he quickly realizes that Toni is only trying to get his attention.
“Earth to Jughead, come in Jughead.”
He blinks a few times, stops typing, and focuses on her face. “Yeah?”
“Do you want to get something to eat and continue wallowing in your misery or do you wanna head out?”
He sighs and glances down at his phone. He knows that within the next hour or so he might get a text from the Serpents, asking him to stop by the Whyte Worm.
“We can head out,” he replies. “I’m not hungry.”
Toni raises an eyebrow at that, but chooses to say nothing. She hopes that she can get him to eat some food later, as she finds his lack of appetite the most unusual of his recent behavior.
Before closing his laptop shut, he clicks save. The draft joins the others in their designated folder. He’s not sure if he’ll do anything with the letters, but they’re the closest thing to therapy he’s got.
He slips the computer into his bag and nods to Toni. “Let’s go,” he says quietly.
Toni places money the table, gets up, and heads for the back door. Jughead can’t help himself and gives his old friends a parting glance. He drinks in the part of Betty’s face that he can still see that isn’t cover by Trev’s presence. For a fleeting second, he thinks about striding over, pulling her into his arm, and kissing her passionately.
He shakes the thought from his head. It’s for the best, he thinks again, firmly. He turns and follows Toni out the door and into the night.
I write it
Erase it
Repeat it
But what good will it do
To reopen the wound
So I take a deep breath
And I save as draft