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“There was a shooting at the town hall. That’s why they’re so agitated.”
Cold shivers run through Toni’s body at Jughead’s words; it’s a weird sensation because she can really swear her whole body stops for a second. The blood flowing in her veins, the thoughts blasting in her head, one after the other, like a hurricane; her own lungs seem to be working against her, taking in every molecule of oxygen she can handle, but only holding in so many. A huge, squared, cement brick has settled at the pit of her stomach, as if they didn’t know where to put it and forgot it there, eventually. She can tell the room is spinning around them, so she wonders why everyone – everything is so still. How can they be so calm, how Jughead, of all people, can be so calm, is a mystery to her. Jughead, attorney McCoy, the deputies still working at their desks; as if this was an everyday thing. Standing outside of Fangs’ cell, discussing his case in a crowded Police Station hallway, on a Friday night. Surely, this isn’t how she expected her weekend to go.
The odd man out of the disturbing, slow-motioned scene which is unfolding before her, is Sweet Pea. As soon as he heard those same words that had thrown Toni for a loop, he had settled his eyes on her, forehead puckered in thought. Then, without saying anything, he simply stood up and started walking down the hall. She hasn’t given much thought as to where he might be going, not right now. Locks of strawberry-blonde hairappear before her eyes, unasked for, as if she could smell the strawberry-vanilla shampoo the other girl often uses. Suddenly, her hand is shaking while she reaches for her phone, in her back pocket. The pounding in her chest is not easing, if anything it’s accelerating. She needs to regain control of herself; panic won’t help her and she knows it. One name, one face, only one pair of eyes is haunting her, like a glacial blue shadow, chasing her thoughts.
Cheryl.
She knows the procedure from her fair share of trips to the Police Station; thanks to her mother at first, when she was little. Then custody had been given to her uncle and things did not get better. She spent many more nights crashing at Sweets’ or Fangs’, than outside of their trailer waiting for someone to open up; that bit was true. However, in her young adolescence, Toni had far too often been the one called to come and get him. Even though she had never tried, she would bet her favorite Serpent Ring that she could get from her trailer to the Station blindfolded, driving her bike with only one hand.
“Have you heard from Betty? Was she with Cheryl?”
Toni gazes at Jughead, questioningly. Giving him a closer look, maybe he isn’t so calm, either. As focused on herself as she was, she didn't notice the sweat on his hands; or the anxious fixing his hat every other minute. She didn't notice his clenched jaw or the way his hand closes in a tight fist at his girlfriend’s name.
“I don’t know. She just texted me that she’s fine, nothing more. I’m sorry, Toni.”
It’s not the brick in her stomach that sinks further and further to bother her, really. On second thought it’s a good thing it’s there, despite the unlimited number of awful scenarios it’s made of. It anchors her to the ground, never has she felt such a connection between her feet and the ground itself. She has never felt gravity streaming from her being to the Earth, yet she wouldn’t know what else to call her sudden balance. Honestly, it’s the not knowing. That’s the worst part of it.
She taps on Cheryl’s contact, rapidly. In another situation completely, she would have chuckled at the girl’s contact picture; probably unconsciously forming that grin Sweet Pea always makes fun of her for. They chose it together. It had been just a few days after they rescued her from that insane conversion nunnery.
“It looks like you’re calling a stranger if you don’t add my picture to it, TT. Seriously, that’s creepy.” Toni laughs softly, pressing a kiss to the other girl’s temple.
“You do realize I only got your number like two and a half months ago, right? And after a lot of smooth tries.” She remarks, nudging at the other girl’s shoulder. They’re laying on her bed, in her trailer, in each other’s arms. The everyday routine has never felt so blissful. Considering her routine consisted in being kicked out for two days in a row and then not being kicked out for at least three days in a row (and only because it got to the point where her uncle would hide out in the woods to sober up, or just look for more booze with very little money), this felt good. It felt outstandingly good.
Cheryl raises an eyebrow, tangling a strand of pink hair around her finger; while still holding Toni’s phone in her hand.
“What about that History project we got paired up for? I specifically remember giving you my number then.”
“That was strictly for educational purposes, miss 4.0.”
The redhead rolls her eyes, deciding to open Toni’s pictures folder to choose one to use. Besides the predictable dorky ones with Fangs, Sweet Pea and occasionally Jughead (plus the we-are-a-very-dangerous-gang-look-at-us-being-all-serious other ones that soon follow), there is one particular side of the girl’s photos she wasn’t expecting to find. A very red folder, to say the least. The warmth that settles in her stomach causes her to grin widely, the smile quickly reaching her eyes too.
“I didn’t know you took so many pictures of me. Of us.”
“Does it bother you?” Toni asks, hesitantly. Stroking Cheryl’s arm gently, she doesn’t think she has ever seen something –or someone, for that matter, so beautiful.
“No, not at all.”
The redhead presses a soft kiss to Toni’s lips, smiling against her mouth afterward. When she turns to the phone again, she seems to have found the perfect one.
“THIS!” The revelation of Cheryl’s dorkiness, when she made it, had come as a discovery to Toni, too. She was starting to think there just couldn’t be things she didn’t like about the Blossom screaming excitedly in her arms. And of course, she would want the fakest, model-like shot Toni probably had ever taken of her. The pink-haired girl shakes her head, scoffing.
“I like this one more.” She claims softly, pointing at a photo she took of the redhead, not much time ago. They were at Picken's Park.The plan was to just lay down and do whatever they felt like doing. Which, of course, ended up in Toni shooting with her camera and Cheryl doing her homework. That’s what she was doing in the picture too, her hair wrapped up in a messy bun (Toni found it extremely sexy), sunglasses placed on her head. She had a natural color on her lips, different from the usual Blossom red; more like a carnation pink. Most importantly, she was wearing a Southside Serpents jacket – Toni’s jacket. That alone was an incredible point to its favor.
“Okay, I guess we can compromise.” Cheryl declared, pretending to be annoyed and crossing her arms. Toni quickly put that as a contact image, proceeding to turn off her phone and focusing on kissing that annoyed expression of her girlfriend. Their laughs colored the afternoon light, just like an artist does with a blank canvas, just as graciously.
It keeps beeping and beeping. Why does it keep fucking beeping?
As she prowls the hall relentlessly, one hand in her hair, the other one on her phone, a familiar figure emerges from the main entrance. Sweet Pea hurries over to them, an unreadable expression written all over his face.
“I asked around. I actually paid one of those fuckers to get him to tell me what happened.”
He snarls, clearly not pleased with the absence of information they are getting. If she wasn’t so damn worried, she would be giving in to the little smile that threatens to color her face. An abrupt rush of affection for the taller guy forms in the middle of her chest; Sweet Pea, who went out of his way for her, to let her know more about what happened; and ease her preoccupation for a bit. A preoccupation that he was able to identify at first glance when Toni wasn’t even sure of her own reaction; too caught up in perceiving. She’s grateful for him here, right now. They always had this bond, brother-sister-like, but much deeper. There were certain things they were only able to do for each other; such as Toni’s ability to calm him down when he fired up, which happened pretty often.
“So apparently, he was shooting from the balcony above the audience. People started screaming and running everywhere. The deputies are escorting here who they can and ambulances are driving back and forth from the town hall to the hospital.”
The tall Serpent pauses for a second, realizing he’s probably blasting out everything he found out way too quickly. So he takes a deep breath, settling his gaze on Toni. Knowing him, his efforts in maintaining a composed expression are visible. He's trying not to fall into an angry, cursing rant about how inefficient and god-fucking-awful the Northside is; Toni would bet her money on that.
“I asked about her. They don’t know anything right now, but they will keep an eye out for her, Tiny. We’ll find her.”
Toni takes a deep breath, taking his eyes off him and sitting them on the main entrance. It’s pouring people in and out of the building, but none of them has strawberry-blonde hair or brown captivating eyes; or is a Blossom. She takes a deep breath.
She doesn’t have time to process things, because one of her best friends is being held in a cell for something that he didn’t do and her girlfriend is currently god knows where. She can’t leave Fangs and the boys, she just can’t.
No serpent is left for dead.
She can’t break the law, these guys have always been there for her.
So that's is the reason why she lets herself fall back on a blue, plastic chair in the hall. Her head drops in her hands; from feeling everything to feeling too much it’s a small leap, she learns this today. Tears are stubbornly pushing to feel her cheeks and eventually she lets them do so. She’s definitely not sobbing, that is not a Toni thing to do. Weak is not something she does, usually. There’s nothing wrong with it, she knows it, she just likes to choose whom to be around when it happens. It always has been a microscopic list of names, most of which are in this building right now. Fact is, this time is not a choice. She can’t do anything to stop it, maybe she doesn’t want to. Maybe letting go of control and reason for a split second, will help her see more clearly.
“Dude, she’s fine. We’re going to find her and Fangs is going to be released and everything is going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that, Sweet Pea!”
She snaps. It is the kind of anger that has been building up gradually, slowly and inevitably. Not towards Sweet Pea, nor Cheryl and not even the Sheriff. While anyone else would have told her off for lashing out and then left her there, boiling in her own regret, Sweet Pea doesn’t. He gets down on his knees, facing the pink haired girl and takes one of her hands off her face. He does so, with a tenderness she didn’t know the loud (and often obnoxious) raven-haired Serpent had.
“She is fine, Toni. She’s a tough one, your Red. She won’t go down like that. Too easy and definitely not fucking glamorous enough.”
And somehow, he manages to scare that darkness away from her. He manages to make her scoff a little, wiping a lonely tear away from her chin. Just like a big brother would do, if his little sister just lost her favorite thing in the world. Except Toni’s older than him by three months and a half.
She doesn’t say anything; either because she doesn’t have to or because she doesn’t want to, it is not important.
The brick that has been making itself at home in her chest, starts to crumble a bit. It’s not much, it hasn’t disappeared, but a little crack has opened in its center. Sweets’ reassuring, bright smile can surely fit through that.
He turns his gaze away from her, putting a steady hand on her knee.
“See? I told you not to worry.”
Toni lifts her head up almost instantly at his lowered voice; it’s the second time today someone else’s words can make her feel as if time were stopping. Her eyes linger on the broken figure of her girlfriend for a couple seconds, then Toni is literally flying out of her seat to welcome the redhead in her arms. She can’t stop to think or talk, she’s been holding her breath and she didn’t even notice.
Cheryl makes her way through the cracks of the heavy brick in her chest, she restores her with oxygen by placing her head in the crook of Toni’s neck, holding her just as tight. Cheryl is able to stop the battling in her mind, razing down anything that it’s not red. Finally, Cheryl is capable of giving her feet their freedom of movement back.
Cheryl also kisses her passionately, sweetly in a brief but intense declaration of mutuality in this; in all of this. She caresses her jaw, lightly, almost as if she presses too hard, Toni is going to break.
“I thought-”
“I know.”
The redhead answers.
It’s a weird sensation.