Archive of Our Own ^beta

Two and a half years later

Jughead walked down the New York City sidewalks, headphones over his ears and a smile on his face. Ever since he’d gotten engaged to Betty Cooper, now his wife, there hadn’t been many a bad day. The smile on his face had been there for the past two and a half years, ever since he’d proposed to the love of his life. His wife would argue that his smile had been there a little longer than that, but nonetheless, he still had several reasons to smile. 

He was a loving husband with the kindest, most beautiful wife in the world (in his non-objective opinion), and they had an amazing life together, even if they had only been married for two years. 

His messenger bag was currently hitting the side of his leg almost painfully. He knew it carried his textbooks, laptop, and countless notebooks, but he never complained about the weight or force of the impact on his leg. No, it was all a constant reminder that his wife was the absolute best wife he could ever ask for. 

Because of her book sales and successful book tour, Betty had been able to fully fund Jughead’s education at NYU, including tuition, books, and whatever else college drained from one’s pocket. The most amazing thing was that Betty still had a lot of money left over, too. He probably didn’t even need to be going to college or getting a job anywhere. It’s not like they really needed the cash. In their late twenties, Jughead could say that he and his wife could retire if they wanted to. 

The only problem with that idea was that both Betty and Jughead got too antsy cooped up in their residence without anything to do. Jughead was going to NYU to get a degree in journalism, hopefully to eventually work at The New York Post once he got out. He was a full-time student in NYU’s Journalism program, finally getting his dose of higher education with the love of his life right next to him during every step of the way. 

Truth be told, Jughead didn’t want to be heading to his journalism class at the moment. On the streets of New York City was the last place he wanted to be. He would rather be at his penthouse at the Pembrooke, taking care of his wife. 

Betty was pregnant: nine months and ready to pop. 

The damn kid was two weeks late as of that day. Jughead would have been massaging Betty’s feet right now if she hadn’t kicked him out of their home and made him go to class. 

Even after being booted out for the day, Jughead had too much to smile about. When Betty wasn’t shoving him towards Professor Ragsdale’s journalism course, he was a soon-to-be father. A husband. Or, most often these days, the person that tended to all of his wife’s needs. That meant a bowl of ice cream in the middle of the night. Peanut butter on pickles during a movie. Hey, pregnancy cravings were fun.  

When she was too tired to get in the shower, Jughead would climb into their bathtub with her and help her get clean. When she was sore, Jughead worked her tense muscles until she fell asleep. When the baby kicked, Jughead was there. When it woke Betty up in the middle of the night, Jughead was there to help her back to sleep by rubbing calming patterns on her smooth baby bump. 

At the end of the day, Betty’s death glare that had scared him out of their penthouse that morning would turn into a smile later when he went back to her after class. It would all be worth it later, he thought as he continued to grin and the music kept flowing through his headphones. 

---

Many years later: a Friday morning

Rolling over to silence her alarm was the first thing she did every morning, even if she wanted to break it against a wall. After that, she lazily picked up her phone, looking at the notifications on her lock screen. She had a few texts from friends, a few Instagram and Snapchat notifications… and a missed call from her mom. 

“Shit!” she exclaimed, quickly pushing her dark, unruly curls away from her face to unlock her phone and quickly call her mom back. She was a little antsy at that. Her mom didn’t usually call before 7:30 AM unless it was important. 

“Hello?” her mom answered. 

“Mom!” she nearly exclaimed, relieved. “What happened? Is everything okay?” 

“We’re all fine here, Bug,” she replied. “I must’ve missed you earlier. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to call you. Your dad knew you would still be asleep. I owe him five dollars on that one but we have the same bank account, so I don’t understand why it really matters.” 

“Hah,” she laughed in response, sitting up in her bed. “So what’s up? Calling just to call or what?” 

“Well… yeah. You know how I worry about you all on your own and everything,” she replied. “I just miss you, is all.” 

“I’m doing fine. Finals just finished, so I’ve been sleeping in later, if you hadn’t noticed,” she added. 

“Just like your father.”

“But dad would always argue that I’m more like you.” 

“Would he now?” 

“Especially about how I have your eyes,” she teased, biting her tongue. 

“He goes on about that sometimes, doesn’t he?” 

“He tends to, yeah…” There was an awkward pause. “Was there something else, or just checking in?” 

“Oh! Right. I was wondering if you were coming home this weekend. We want to see you.” 

“You always want to see me!” she exclaimed, smiling. 

“We love you too much, Bug. Our arms and doors are wide open if you want to come home just for the weekend. I know you’re busy with your internship at Lilith and everything--” 

“I’ll be there, mom,” she replied, smiling and raking her hand through her unruly curls again. 

“I can’t wait!” 

“Yeah. I’ve got a meeting with my publisher in a few hours, but after that, I’ll pack and be on my way home.”  

“I can’t wait to see you, Bug,” her mom replied. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, mom.”  

“Your dad also sends his love, and I’ll make an assumption and say that your little brother says so too once he gets off the goddamn Playstation and finishes that project for his final--” 

“Tell them I love them all back,” she interrupted. “The dog too.” 

“God. You’ve left me with a house of boys. What am I to do with myself?” 

“You’ll survive until tonight, mom. I promise.” 

“I should let you go then, I guess. Good luck with Keene.”

“Thanks, mom.” 

“I love you, Bug.”

“I love you too.” 

Click.

---

The music in Jughead’s headphones stopped abruptly. 

He was dazed for a moment, as everyone is when their music stops for no reason. 

Suddenly, his ears were filled with his phone’s ringtone. He finally understood that there was a call coming into his phone, which had been what stopped his music. He fished his phone out of his messenger bag, yanking the cord from the headphone jack and shoving the headphones off his ears. 

He saw that there was an incoming call from none other than his wife’s best friend: Veronica Lodge. He slid the circle to the right on the phone screen before rapidly raising the speaker to his ear. 

“Hey, Ronnie,” he greeted, joining the flow of people heading in the same direction towards his journalism class. “What’s up?” 

“You need to get your ass to the hospital right the hell now!” Veronica demanded. There was obviously a lot going on in the background of the call. Fearing the worst, Jughead pulled off to the side and stopped. 

“Veronica, what’s going on?” he asked more seriously. 

Jughead heard a woman scream in the background. 

He knew that scream. 

“Your wife is going into labor! She called me up to the fourteenth floor when her water broke. Archie and I are about to take her to the hospital. Where the hell are you?!”  

“Betty kicked me out and told me to go to class, but I guess that’s off the agenda now,” Jughead said, cutting through the current of the New York City sidewalk and heading in the opposite direction, towards where he knew where the hospital. 

“We’ll come pick you up.” 

“No. No,” Jughead insisted. “You take Betty to the hospital. Call Cheryl and Toni too--” 

“Spoken for. Archie’s calling them now. He just got off the phone with the chauffeur, Evernever. He’s going to take us there.”  

“Did you bring Hot Dog too?” 

“Yes. Archie’s got his leash while we’re both holding up Betty,” Veronica explained. “Do you need a ride?” Jughead heard his wife groan in the background as Archie tried to keep Betty calm. 

“No.” 

“Then how are you going to get there?” 

“I’m going to run.” 

“Jughead--” 

It was too late. Jughead hung up, slipping his phone into his bag. 

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered to himself, pushing himself into a strong run. He bumped shoulders with more people than he could count as he ran down the street, knowing exactly how to get to the hospital. 

---

Finally dressed and with an iced tea in her hand, she made her way down the New York City streets towards her publisher’s office. Katherine Keene was her publisher’s name. She’d requested a meeting immediately after she’d finished reading what she’d submitted. Keene was definitely not an easy publisher to impress. Either she’d impressed her, or Keene just wanted to reject the manuscript in person. 

Her mom, of course, had loved it. So had her dad. The novel proposed was actually about them, how her parents met and everything. She’d believed it was one of the most epic tales ever. She’d been told the story ever since she was little. It was her favorite bedtime story. As she grew older, more and more details had been added according to how much she could handle by then. It wasn’t just the fairytale sort of story anymore. It was much deeper than that, she’d realized, after reading her mother’s book. A lot of more mature themes emerged after her parents let her read her mom’s memoir. 

Her mom had been published by Keene and Sweetwater Publishing after she graduated college. She would have waited to publish her own after college if she didn’t believe that she knew the story best at that very moment. She wanted to get that story out there as soon as she could. It was one that could inspire hope in people that didn’t believe in love or second chances. It was a story that she believed needed to be brought to light in the day and age where there wasn’t too much hope that things could get better. Her parents’ story was exactly that: finding a better way to live in a world that seemed to lack hope. 

Before she knew it, she was walking down the hall to Keene’s office, her dark, unruly curls pulled back into a mostly smooth ponytail. Try as she may, the unruly side of her hair would never truly conform to the standard set by her mother before her. Wispy and curly flyaways rejected the idea, sticking out behind her temples. She quickly and nervously twirled one in her fingers, pushing it back behind her ear where she knew it wouldn’t stay. 

A single bouncy curl stuck up from the top of her ponytail, headed in the opposite direction of the rest of her hair that had been successfully pulled back. Her hair swung from side to side as she walked, the rhythm a distraction from her nerves, while her finger and thumb moved up and back to pull at the rebelling curl. She stretched it out as far as she could and felt it recoil against her finger when she let go of it. Realizing there was nothing she could do about that, her arm dropped back to her side as she kept walking towards the door. The words printed on the office’s frosted glass became clear as she approached. 

Katherine Keene

Chief Editor

Sweetwater Publishing

There was her future, standing right in front of her, she realized as she stopped in front of the door. With a quick knock and a muffled Come in! , she turned the brass door handle, stepping into the office. 

---

He bustled past person after person, muttering “Excuse me,” whenever he accidentally startled anyone. 

His legs, lungs, and core burned as he pushed harder, moving as fast as he could down the sidewalks. His forehead was throbbing and his throat felt like it was on fire. 

She’s going into labor, he kept telling himself. She’s definitely going to be in more pain than I will after running all the way there. 

When he saw the sign for the hospital up ahead, Jughead couldn’t help but smile widely as he burst into a full sprint. 

I’m gonna be a dad, he internalized, grinning wider. 

He choked out a laugh disguised as a sharp exhale as he reached the front doors. He made himself skid to a stop before rushing to the door and flinging it open. He walked inside with a purpose, and before he knew it, he’d spotted Cheryl Topaz. 

“Jughead!” she called out, walking over to him. He was out of breath, panting. 

“Is-- Is she okay? Did I miss it?” 

“No. No, not at all,” Cheryl assured him as he hunched over. “You’re just in time.” His hands were bearing down on his knees, trying to remain stable. 

“Let’s go,” he nearly wheezed. “Where is she?” 

Cheryl had been about to offer Jughead a cup of water, but he was obviously sidetracked. He had priorities, she understood. 

“This way. Come on, James Dean wannabe,” she joked, heading off down the hall. Jughead righted himself, following her intently. He hadn’t realized the sweat that had accumulated on his brow, nor that his limbs were exhausted, nor that he was still trying to catch his breath as they walked. His excitement about Betty going into labor trumped it all. He was finally going to be a dad. They’d waited nine months and two weeks for this. He was ready, he was sure. 

Betty had always been the more unsure one. When she realized she was pregnant, she cried a lot, and not just because of the hormones that came with her condition. She was afraid, as she admitted to Jughead after telling him she was pregnant. 

Starting a family was something they both wanted. They both wanted two kids of their own. They wanted to take them up to Riverdale on the weekends to stay in Betty’s childhood home (that she’d torn down and rebuilt). They wanted to raise them to be good and happy and strong. They wanted all of the joy that came with parenthood. They both wanted those things. They’d discussed it… Which is why Jughead was confused when she was sobbing in his arms after telling him she was pregnant. 

“What if I turn out like my parents?” she’d admitted through her tears. 

That was her main concern. Betty didn’t want her kids to end up in the same situation she did and it scared the shit out of her. Jughead understood immediately. 

“You’re not your mom,” he told her. “You’re not your dad… You’re better than both of them. You are so kind to everyone you meet. You put others above yourself. Your heart is so full of love and forgiveness… You’re not going to be like your parents. I refuse to say otherwise. You’re nothing like them. You are so, so, so much more loving… and I think you’re going to be a great mother, Betty.” 

“But what if I’m not?” 

“There is no doubt in my mind that this kid is going to have the greatest mom in the world. And she’s going to brag about you to her friends,” he’d assured her. “I know that she is going to love you so much.” 

“She?”  

“Oh, I’m positive it’s going to be a girl,” he said. “She’ll grow up to be a beautiful, kind woman… just like her mom.” 

“You really think so?” He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. 

“No doubt in my mind.” 

“I meant about the gender.” 

“Fifty-fifty chance, right?” he asked. She laughed, holding him closer. 

“You’re going to be the best dad ever, Jug.” 

Jughead smiled at the memory, chuckling lightly as he looked down at the floor. 

They were doing it. They were really doing it. 

“Earth to Danny Zuko!” Cheryl said. Jughead stopped in his tracks and looked up at the ginger. 

“Huh?” 

“This is her room, lover boy,” she teased. “Come on if you’re not a wimp.” 

---

“Missing?” she asked, startled. “What do you mean, missing?”

“What I’m saying is that there’s an element to this story that you’ve left out entirely,” Keene replied. “What you have right here is great. It’s some of the best writing I’ve ever seen. If you find that missing element and publish it that way… then I think you’re on your way to the New York Times’ Bestseller List.” 

“Seriously?” she asked, stunned. “You think that?” 

“I know that, kid. I’ve been doing this forever,” Keene replied. “But only if you find that missing part.” 

“You won’t tell me what it is?” she inquired. Keene sighed. 

“Look, I know your parents,” Keene said. “All I’m suggesting is that you go ask them for their recollection of the story again, and then you include it with what you have currently.” 

“This could possibly reframe the entire story,” she argued. 

“Which is why it’s so important you talk to your parents again,” Keene added. “You need the truth, all of the truth.” 

“Well… I am going to see them again this weekend…”

“Great. That’d be a perfect time to ask them,” Keene replied. Both women in the room were quiet for a moment. “Tell them I said hello, if you would.” 

“Of course,” she replied as they both stood and shook hands. 

“Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” she replied with a wave, walking out the office door and shutting it behind her. 

She didn’t remember the ride in the elevator back down to street level because she was so infuriated. She wasn’t mad at Keene, she had only told her the truth (or what she hoped was the truth): something was missing from her manuscript. She wasn’t truly mad at her parents, although there was obviously something that they had hidden, according to Keene. 

She didn’t want to be mad at her parents. She loved them to bits. She trusted them with nearly everything. She’d cried on her mom’s shoulder over an emotional breakup. Her dad had always patched her up when she’d scrape her knee after falling off her bike or scooter. Her mom had held her as she cried when their first dog died. Her dad would pick her up and let her sit on his shoulders when she was younger and they were watching fireworks together as a family. How could she bring herself to be angry at them? They were the most amazing parents in the world. 

As soon as her heel hit the sidewalk, she pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair and shook it out. Her natural loose curls fell to her shoulders as she shook her head. She let the band slip back to its natural position on her wrist as her other hand pushed her hair back in frustration. She sighed, eyes glued to the sidewalk, and making her way back to her apartment. 

She started to get ideas as she walked. Maybe there was something online that could help. She knew that her mom was famous for a while because of her book’s success. 

“There has to be something online,” she muttered, looking up and around at the taller buildings surrounding her. The investigative journalist that her parents had raised was coming to life. 

You can’t Google your mom, her conscience told her. That’s seriously invading her privacy. Who knows what your mom didn’t tell you or what she doesn’t want you knowing. 

She didn’t want to hurt her mom by searching her online, but finding the truth was what came naturally to her. That’s why she had an internship at Lilith. She was one of the youngest in the game, and she was one of the best at getting answers. 

“If anyone’s gonna find out anything, it’s gonna be me,” she decided, making her way into her dorm building. 

---

They both laughed lightly before Cheryl opened the door, letting Jughead in before her. He saw Archie sitting in a chair outside the room, Hot Dog sitting next to him and anxiously wanting to get inside the room. Archie waved to Jughead briefly before he disappeared inside. 

“Holy shit, you guys weren’t kidding,” he said, announcing his presence. 

Jughead first saw Betty in a hospital gown, squeezing the life out of Toni Topaz’s hand. Toni was trying to be strong, but her facial expression let slip that she was in deep, deep pain because of the way that Betty held her hand. When she saw Jughead come in, she looked relieved for a moment before Betty was nearly crushing her hand again. There was a nurse doing something (he didn’t know what, but she wasn’t near Betty). Then there was Veronica, on Betty’s other side and closer to the door, who turned around when Jughead and Cheryl entered, obviously unamused. 

“Now is not the time for dad jokes,” she said. 

“I think now is the perfect time for dad jokes,” he retorted. 

“Jughead!” Betty almost growled. 

“Coming, dear!” he replied immediately, running around the foot of the bed. He tapped Toni’s shoulder, nonverbally telling her he would take over. The pink-haired woman slid out of the way, letting go, as Jughead took Betty’s hand in his own. She looked over at him. 

“I didn’t mean to be so harsh when you came in,” she said softly, sweat beginning to adorn her brow. “It’s the contractions. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he replied caringly, laying a kiss to Betty’s forehead. “It was a pretty bad joke.” 

“Thank you for coming to your senses,” Veronica added, wiping the sweat off of Betty’s face. The blonde rolled her eyes at both of them, but her expression quickly changed into a pained one. Jughead thought he heard a pop when she nearly obliterated the bones in his hand. Jughead watched her beautiful face clench until the contraction finished its course. She exhaled heavily, allowing Jughead to see those green irises that he loved so much. 

“You’re doing great,” he whispered tenderly, smoothing her hair back. She sighed again, leaning into his touch and closing her eyes for a moment. 

“We haven’t even started yet.” 

“I know,” he said. “You’re still doing great. You’ve only snapped at me once.” 

She laughed lightly but looked him in the eye more seriously. 

“I’m scared, Jug--” 

There was a knock on the door and a doctor entered the room with another nurse behind her. She was looking at a clipboard as she walked in. 

“Mrs. Elizabeth Cooper?” she asked, looking up from the board. 

“That’s me,” she replied. 

“I’m Doctor Patricia Patel. I’ll be working with you today.” She looked up at Jughead. “You’re the father, I presume? Mr. Forsythe Jones the Third?” 

“Yeah,” he answered, “That’s me.” 

“Very well.” She turned her attention back to Betty. “My team and I are here to make this as easy and painless as possible, though as I am sure you are very well aware, this will still hurt.” Betty nodded. “One of the nurses has informed me that it looks like we’re getting close to starting. We’ll just get everything in order and by then, I think we’ll be ready.” 

“Thank you, Doctor Patel,” Betty replied. 

“It’s my pleasure,” she replied, walking over to one of the nurses in the room. Betty looked up at Jughead nervously. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“Jug--” 

“You can do this, Betty. It’s all going to be okay. And it’ll be over before you know it, okay?” He asked. With a worried look still in her eyes, Betty swallowed hesitantly and nodded. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “I love you, Betty.” 

“I love you too, Juggie.” 

---

Though she was rightfully angry at not being told things, she managed to channel said anger into packing a duffel bag for her weekend at home. In a backpack she placed her recorder, a few pens, her journal, and a legal pad. Before she packed her laptop away, she pulled it out at her desk. 

She searched her mother’s name first. There wasn’t anything relevant under that name. 

“That’s weird,” she whispered to herself when nothing relating to her mother showed up. 

She searched her father’s name next and she found his Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. Scrolling through them, she found years and years of Instagram posts (though there weren’t many considering how long he’d had the account, they spanned years) of him and her mom. One of the first posts on his Instagram was a picture of them together on the night they got engaged. 

There was one from the day they got married. 

She found a picture of her father holding her on the day she was born. 

She realized that after she was born, her father posted more on Instagram. It was mostly images of her and her mom, as she knew he adored his wife. There were a few pictures of their first dog as well, but it mostly held pictures of him and his wife, or his wife and the small girl she recognized as herself. 

There was a picture of her when she was five, holding her baby brother James in their family house. She stared at that one for a while, realizing that her brother had always had the same type of hair as she did, though it was slightly darker with less curl. 

She remembered when they told her he was named James after James Dean. She asked them who that was and they promised they would show her later (a promise they kept when she was a teenager). 

There were family Christmas card-type pictures from ten years ago of her parents holding her and her brother with their fluffy dog sitting dead center, wide smiles on their faces. There was one where her mom was taking a nap on the couch with her and her brother snoozing on top of her. 

There were pictures from her fifth grade graduation, James barely tall enough to hug around her waist. There was one from her eighth grade graduation, James now closer to her shoulder. There was one from James’ fifth grade graduation, her smothering her little brother as he held his final elementary school report card with a toothy grin. The most recent of the graduation photos was her in her high school’s graduation cap and gown and James in a blazer and a bowtie from his eighth grade graduation. She was eighteen, he was thirteen. 

That was from a year ago. 

She was nineteen now, headed into her sophomore year of college in the next fall. James was now fourteen and almost finished with his freshman year of high school. 

There was a picture from when she had moved into her dorm at NYU, the dorm she was currently sitting in. After that, there was a picture of James scoring the winning goal in a soccer match for his high school’s varsity team. 

Feeling like she hit a dead end on her father’s Instagram, she scrolled all the way back down to the engagement photo. She read the caption once and was about to click away from the post when she realized something. 

The name that she was familiar with - the name that she associated with her mother - was not the one that was on her mother’s novel. Her government name was on her novel, on the various articles she wrote when she worked in New York City. What name she associated with her mom was not the one that the world knew. Hell, she shared a name with her mom. 

“You dumbass,” she said to herself, opening a new tab in Google and searching her mom’s full name. 

There was her official Instagram page, Facebook, Twitter, and more. She found multiple articles that other people published about her mother’s book. 

But what she found after that was even more appalling. 

There was an article written by her mother a few months before the date she knew her parents had gotten engaged. It was an article she hadn’t ever seen before, and her parents had let her see all of their articles. 

That’s when her anger began to boil over. 

And that’s when she thought: “Gotcha.”

---

“Alright, Mrs. Cooper,” Dr. Patel said. “It’s time to start pushing.” 

Betty immediately looked up at Jughead. He nodded reassuringly. The blonde sat up a little, bracing herself for the impending pain. She was suddenly panicked at the thought of starting. She froze.

“I…” 

“Come on, B,” Veronica said from the other side. 

“Calm down, Betts,” Jughead added immediately. “Breathe…” She did as she was told. “Now push.” 

Fifteen Minutes Later

Jughead hated seeing Betty in so much pain. She was nearly crying and there hadn’t been much progress since they had begun. At some point, a washcloth had been shoved into his hand for the sweat on Betty’s forehead. He and Veronica had been blotting it whenever it appeared, but the sweat just kept coming and coming. Cheryl and Toni were off to the side, staying out of Veronica’s way (as the Lodge woman had asked of them so that Betty didn’t feel suffocated or overwhelmed). 

Betty’s hair had been thrown into a messy blonde ponytail at some point to keep the hair off the back of her neck, but (of course) it didn’t stop her from sweating. Jughead’s hand was probably going to be purple for a while with all of the squeezing she was doing to it. 

More concerning than that, Betty was nearly crying. And in all of fifteen minutes, there hadn’t been much progress. Jughead noticed the tears that were soon to flood his wife’s face as he was wiping her forehead. 

Falling back with a sigh, Betty glanced at Veronica before looking up at Jughead. He immediately knew her anxiety was starting to kick in. When Veronica stepped away to grab a dry washcloth, Jughead spoke up. 

“Stop freaking out.” He could tell that she was doing it, even if she didn’t want to admit it. “What’s really going on in that beautiful head of yours?” Jughead kept blotting her forehead with the towel. 

“What if I’m a terrible mother?” she asked him. Jughead could see in her eyes that she was completely serious. “What if I’m so scrambled after all these years that I screw up and fuck this kid up for life?” 

“You won’t.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because I know you, Betty. I know you too well. You wouldn’t let that happen.” 

“What if I end up like my mom--” 

“You’re nothing like your mom. Shh...” he soothed her, running a hand over her hair. “You’re going to be great. Don’t worry about that right now. All I want you to worry about is pushing that kid out, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“You can do this.” 

“I still don’t know about that.” 

“If you can jump my bones when I came back from class on the first day of your maternity leave, you can push a baby out, Betts.” 

The blonde turned as red as a tomato while Veronica looked at her best friend with wide eyes, realizing she’d heard too much. 

Twenty Minutes Later

They were getting close, but there was still a long way to go. 

Betty was borderline hyperventilating now, but she wasn’t giving up. Jughead and Veronica were blotting her forehead more than they had been before. She was in so much pain that his soul was starting to shatter at the sound of Betty’s screams (Cheryl and Toni had left the room because they couldn’t bear to hear the heart-wrenching sound coming from one of their closest friends). She’d picked up crying at one point, Jughead didn’t know when. 

After what seemed like the thousandth failed push, Betty fell back again in tears, and the doctor announced once again that they were getting closer. 

“I can’t do it, Juggie, I can’t!” 

“Betty, our tiny miracle is still inside you, and I need you to push it out,” Jughead said. She shook her head, more tears surfacing on her cheeks. “Do it, Betty,” he demanded. 

“I can’t!” 

“Yes, you can!” Jughead yelled. 

“No--”

“Elizabeth Victoria Cooper--”

“I hate that middle name--” 

He ignored her protesting. 

“You are going to push that kid out of you before I yank her out myself. And I will be damned if you give up after everything we’ve been through,” he replied. “You’re going to push until that nice doctor or myself says you can stop pushing. Okay?!” Betty looked up at him in awe, but nodded. “You can do this, Betty,” he whispered. 

Betty sat up once more, Jughead’s free arm around her shoulders. 

“Ready?” 

She was sobbing silently from the pain, but she nodded. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Dr. Patel said. 

“Go,” Jughead said. 

Betty pushed, her face flushed, sweat trickling down her brow, and her eyes clamped shut. Her teeth were gritted together, the pure friction clouding her senses. The pain was insufferable as she let loose a guttural scream and squeezed the life out of her husband’s hand. 

A small cry escaped from elsewhere in the room when Betty stopped and let her tears flow. She fell limply into Jughead’s embrace, laying back on the mattress as the smaller cries filled the room. She felt Jughead wrap his other arm around her for a hug, kissing her temple fervently. 

If Jughead said something to her in the moment, Betty didn’t hear it over the crying that wasn’t hers and her own exhaustion. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving as she began to grasp what had just happened. 

That was her baby crying. Betty almost shot up and off the bed as she realized it, her only instinct in that moment to comfort the squealing infant. 

The baby, not yet wiped down, was quickly passed to Betty. She reached out and gently took the crying child from the nurse, letting the wailing baby rest on her shoulder. It calmed as soon as it recognized its mother, but Betty was sobbing again as soon as they made contact, simply overwhelmed at the tiny body now resting against the exposed skin of her shoulder. They were tears of joy, of course, as the blonde cradled the baby gently against her chest. She rested her cheek against the baby’s small head while her body shook with sobs. She felt Jughead’s hand on hers, which was on the child’s back. The baby was grasping at anything it could to feel secure, and Betty just held it closer to her.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, exhausted and crying. Jughead laid kisses on her cheek, temple, and forehead. She was still breathing heavily and trying to compose herself when Jughead pushed a few strands of blonde hair out of her face. She looked up at him with a tired smile, and he was smiling brightly right back at her. “Love you,” she managed to say. 

“I love you too, Betty,” he said back, kissing her forehead again. 

Sooner rather than later, one of the nurses came over and took the baby away only for a moment. She brought the child back with a pastel beanie on its head and had wrapped it in a diaper. When she brought the baby back, she placed it belly down on the skin of Betty’s chest. She told Betty that the skin-to-skin contact was important before draping a warm blanket over them. 

Betty’s eyes locked on Veronica as she let Toni and Cheryl back in the room, and with Hot Dog this time, happy to see that the atmosphere had calmed since they had been there earlier. The sheepdog ran around to where Jughead’s designated chair was, loyally parking himself between Betty and the chair. 

“Did you hear what I said?” Dr. Patel asked, breaking Betty and Jughead’s concentration. 

“Huh?” Jughead asked, disoriented. 

“It’s a girl. Congratulations,” she added. In all the commotion of actually having the baby, neither parent had realized the gender. 

“Somebody owes me five bucks!” Jughead said, looking directly at Toni. “Pay up, Topaz.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she groaned, handing him a five dollar bill that he stashed in his pocket immediately. Betty laughed brightly and stroked her daughter’s back over the blanket as Veronica wiped the residual sweat from her brow. 

Jughead turned away from his wife to see Dr. Patel. 

“Let me know if there are any problems,” she said. 

“Thank you,” he replied. 

“Any time,” Dr. Patel responded, turning back towards the other nurses in the room. 

Jughead faced back towards Betty and watched as the three women in the room all had locked their eyes on Betty with the little girl, responding with a single “Awww” as Betty rested her head against her daughter’s and couldn’t help but continue to sob tears of joy. 

“How are we doing over here?” Jughead asked, walking back to his wife. She looked up at him, still crying.  

“Oh my God,” she choked out, unable to find the right words. Betty held the (now) sleeping newborn to her chest, the hospital gown exposing just enough skin for the baby to snuggle against. Before she could stop herself, Betty broke into tears again, looking over at the girl. “S-She’s beautiful.” 

“Just like I said she’d be,” Jughead whispered after crouching down to Betty’s level. 

“Well, didn’t you two just make the perfect little angel,” Veronica said, squeezing Betty’s shoulder as the new mother continued to sob tears of joy. 

“You’re a mom now, Betty,” Toni said. “How’s it feel?” 

“Amazing,” she muttered, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“We should get out of your hair for a little bit,” Cheryl said. “Give you guys some alone time.” 

“Thanks, Cheryl,” Jughead replied. 

“No problem,” she added. “Let’s go, ladies. Give them some space.” 

Each of her best friends left after kissing her forehead. Cheryl was the last one out, almost pushing Veronica towards Archie before shutting the door. The nurses and Dr. Patel cleared out shortly after, giving them some privacy. 

The little girl had cuddled up to Betty as soon as she had been placed in her mother’s arms. Now was no exception, as the baby was sleeping on her mother’s shoulder. Betty’s tears had calmed, but she was still emotional (she blamed the hormones, but Jughead knew the truth). Jughead was stroking the baby’s shoulder over the blanket from across Betty’s body, unable to make his thumb stop the soothing motions. 

(And Hot Dog was curious as to who the new addition was, but he was patient, simply sitting next to Jughead like the loyal therapy dog he was trained to be)

 Before they both knew it, the girl was crying again. 

“Hungry,” Betty and Jughead said at the same time, smiling and chuckling. 

“She’s yours alright,” Betty said to Jughead as she prepared to feed their daughter for the first time. 

---

Once she found one article, it led to another, and another, and another. 

And now she was angrily gripping the steering wheel of her Nissan Pathfinder, the articles that had proven what Katy Keene had told her: she was missing parts of her parents’ story. 

She was glad that she packed her pens and paper because she wasn’t only going for a family reunion of sorts this time. She needed answers. 

Why was her publisher the one to tell her that things were missing from a story that she thought she knew so well? 

Why couldn’t her parents just tell her about some of this themselves? 

Why would they hide this? 

Among all the whys was disappointment. 

Her entire relationship with her parents was one built on trust from the beginning. She never lied to them, and when she asked questions of their life before her they always had answers for her, and they seemed to always be truthful responses. 

Not anymore. 

She’d been so furious she had to put her hair up again before heading towards their family home about an hour away from New York City. 

When she was born, her parents were still living in New York City, but they had a family home about an hour away that they would visit on the weekends and on holidays. When she was four and her mom became pregnant with James, her parents decided to sell their apartment in the city and they all moved into the family home permanently. 

She still had fuzzy memories from when she and her parents were living in the city, trips to Central Park, Saturday lunches at Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe, and recollections of them sitting in front of the TV during Saturday morning cartoons where she was usually perched in one of her parents’ laps. They also decided to move because of the small town atmosphere and the school system differences between NYC and a small town community. 

She was headed towards her childhood home, knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. All the evidence that she determined she’d need, she printed out beforehand and it was all now sitting in the passenger seat of her car. 

She took her attention away from her anger as she spotted the landmark sign that she knew so well. Who was she kidding, she knew it too well. She knew it too well that her anger began to dissipate ever so slightly when she saw the sign and her tires began to roll onto the bridge. She looked out her window and saw the river that she also knew too well. Her grip relaxed on the steering wheel, sighing as she passed the bridge, the river, and the sign. 

Welcome to Riverdale

The “Town with Pep!”

---

After their daughter had been fed enough to appease the baby for the moment, they watched the infant sleep. While Jughead had been watching on silently, Betty kept fumbling with the covers on the bed. 

“You need help?” Jughead asked after a few moments. 

“I just wanna make sure she’s warm enough,” Betty replied, pulling on the blankets on the bed. 

“Betty, I think she’s fine.” He knew exactly what was running through her mind. “Maybe you’re just…” 

“Just what?” she asked, stopping. 

“Maybe you’re just nesting,” he added softly. “You did it to me a week ago when I said it was just a little cold…” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Yes, Betty, you did try to nest with me.” He paused. “You found a bunch of blankets and bundled us up together… not that I was complaining.” He stopped, thinking about it for a moment. “It was actually pretty nice if you ask me.” 

“No--” 

“It’s okay, baby,” he interrupted. “It’s a natural thing.” Jughead took a thicker baby blanket out of the bag they had pre-packed for their trip to the hospital (a bag that Archie had to carry out of the Pembrooke earlier that day). “Here. Build your nest, mama bird,” he teased, handing her the blanket. 

“Maybe I will,” she replied, replacing one blanket with the other. 

After that, the three Cooper-Joneses fell asleep together. Their daughter used Betty’s shoulder as a pillow on one side while he did the same on her other shoulder, his body still seated in a chair next to the bed. Hot Dog was laying on the tile next to Jughead’s chair, a puddle of fluffy white fur. The infant had slept soundly so for, snuggled into her mom’s body. 

Out of all the fears Betty had about motherhood, the fear that she would turn out like her own parents or that she would be hated by her children was the most daunting. After her short experience with holding her daughter for the first time, she didn’t understand how someone could be so cruel to a child in the same way that her parents had been cruel to her. She especially didn’t understand how someone could be so cruel to their own child. 

Betty had seen their daughter and immediately felt that she would die for the little girl if she had to. She loved her already, and she didn’t even know how her daughter would turn out or what she would be like. Even with her little body pressed against hers, Betty could feel the warmth that radiated off of her daughter, and she knew that she was hers whether the kid wanted her or not. 

Betty knew immediately that she wanted her daughter to consider her a friend. More than that, she wanted the little girl to consider her a best friend. She’d already decided that, and Betty wasn’t one to give up. She’d be damned if she didn’t break what had been started by her parents. Betty wanted to care for this baby in all the ways she deserved to be cared for. In an instant, Betty decided that the circle of abuse that had been inflicted by her parents was over. The past wasn’t going to repeat itself. That much she was sure of. 

When she realized she was thinking this as she was sleeping, Betty’s eyes fluttered open and she remembered where she was: Jughead on one shoulder and the little girl on the other. Betty looked over and watched as the infant shifted under the blanket they were sharing, making a small noise as she did so. Betty sat up a little more at that, adjusting under Jughead’s head. 

Betty slowly took the baby off of her shoulder along with the blanket. She swiftly and carefully swaddled the sleeping child without waking Jughead, then held her in the crook of her arm and supported her head with the inside of her elbow. 

The infant was exhuming heat as she laid in Betty’s arms, almost a dead weight. She was so relaxed and seemed so comfortable in her hold that Betty thought she was imagining her daughter until she focused on the rhythm of the baby’s soft breathing. 

“Hi there,” Betty said softly in a distinct baby voice, still looking down at her and smiling. Her fingers lingered over her baby’s chest lightly, tenderly tracing over the blanket, trying to keep her emotions in check. After she said the next few words, she couldn’t help but tear up, as she’d rarely if ever heard them from her own parents. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much, kiddo.” Betty took a deep breath and let it go before she continued to speak to the infant. “I’m going to take such good care of you, I promise,” she added, her voice cracking subtly. She swallowed before she kept going. “I’m gonna keep you safe no matter what… and I’ll never hurt you.” 

Betty realized that talking to a two hour-old baby was like the same as talking to Hot Dog in the sense that neither Hot Dog nor her daughter would truly understand what she was saying and neither would really remember any of it. Betty just felt as if the words that she was relaying to her daughter were so important that it didn’t matter if her daughter would never remember that moment. The words just needed to be said, even if Betty knew that she’d be saying them to the girl for a long time. 

I love you, Betty kept thinking. It’s too easy to love her. 

“You deserve so much better than what I had,” Betty nearly wept. “And I’m going to do everything in my power so that never happens to you.” She had to pause as a searing tear rolled down her cheek. “I just love you so much, okay?”

Betty took the girl’s yawn and small stretch as an understanding while she smiled down at her, another stray tear trickling from her eye. Out of curiosity, Betty slid the beanie off of the little girl’s head gently, audibly gasping at what she saw under it. 

Jughead jolted to life beside her, lifting his head from his wife’s shoulder in the process. 

“Whazzup—“ he stopped when he saw what she was seeing. Betty was suddenly crying again. “Betty…”

“She’s got your hair, Jug,” she sobbed, running her fingers softly through the dark, thick locks that had already appeared. 

“Was she born with my hair?” He asked, trying to calm Betty even though it wasn’t working too well.

“I guess,” she replied, still crying happy tears. Jughead leaned against her shoulder again, able to keep an eye on their little girl from across Betty’s body. He lifted his hand and cupped his daughter’s head, smoothing down the child’s hair and feeling that it was as soft as her mother’s. 

“I have to be honest, I expected a blonde for a girl, but I think I like this alternative better,” he replied, placing his hand on Betty’s as her tears calmed. “Is it really that much like my hair?” 

“Dark, thick, unruly, curly…” She trailed off, glancing at Jughead before looking back at her daughter again.  

“My hair isn’t curly. That’s yours.” He paused as she looked at him again, confused. “She has your hair too, Betts.” 

At that, Betty broke into tears of joy again, leaning further against Jughead as he laughed softly. 

“You’re so emotional,” he chided, stroking her arm. 

“Shut up,” she mumbled with a voice shaky from crying. “It’s the hormones.” 

As Betty continued to comb her fingers tenderly through her daughter’s hair, they both watched on caringly and saw as she relaxed further into her mother’s arms… then the child’s eyes opened. She looked up at her mother’s face curiously, getting a good glance at the woman who had birthed her. 

Betty only cried and smiled harder. Jughead could see what his wife was now focused on and simply wiped her tears away. 

“She’s got your eyes,” he whispered to Betty, kissing her temple. “They’re beautiful.” The blonde next to him let her head fall onto his shoulder. He kissed her hair as she continued to absorb the reality that this child was a perfect mix of both of them. Betty was able to calm down a little more after their little girl closed her eyes again. 

“She’s definitely ours,” Betty muttered with a sniffle as sleep overtook the infant. She continued to brush her fingers through her daughter’s soft, thick, dark hair on the top of her head. Jughead cradled the girl’s head in his palm, soaking up the warmth she radiated. 

“No question,” he replied, a giant smile on his face. “But if she doesn’t continue to have my appetite, I’m going to complain to someone that we have the wrong kid.” 

“You’re so right,” Betty laughed brightly, knocking her head playfully against Jughead’s. They looked at their daughter for a beat before Jughead spoke up. 

“I want to let you rest, but maybe we should discuss names,” he said softly, taking his hand away from the child and pushing a loose curl behind Betty’s ear. 

“Sure,” she replied. “You wanna hold her while we do that?” 

Jughead’s lips turned up into a gigawatt smile.

Five Minutes Later

After a few minutes of Jughead holding her, the infant began crying out of hunger again, so he handed her back to Betty. She began feeding while they finished up their conversation. 

“Just like that?” she asked. “We’re in agreement on this?”

“Just like that, Betty.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you more.” 

“I was talking to the baby.” 

“Me too.” 

“Well... I guess I like you a lot as well.” 

“Yeah. Same. It’s not like you just delivered my baby--” 

“Our baby.” 

“Our baby. Right…” he joked. They both smiled. 

There was a long pause. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“How this kid is going to be her mother’s daughter.” 

“Not with your appetite, she won’t.” 

---

She stepped out of her car, the sheets of paper she printed in her hand, and shut her car door a little too harshly. She was still angry, even after passing through her hometown. Why wouldn’t they tell her something as important as this? 

Before she could brood any longer, her mom burst through the front door. She ran down the front steps of their family home before the nineteen year-old could think another angry thought. 

“Kiddo!” she gasped, running to her daughter. 

She felt her anger disappear entirely as her mother wrapped her up in a comforting, warm hug. Though she was still infuriated, it all just melted away at her mother’s touch. She felt herself winding her arms around her mom’s body and just holding on silently, letting everything else go, including a pent up sigh. 

“Hey, mom,” she replied, letting her body weight simply fall into the woman. Her mom stepped back after a moment, holding onto her daughter’s shoulders as she smiled at her. 

“You look good, kid,” her mom said with that infectious smile she always had, cupping her daughter’s cheek with her hand momentarily. She mirrored her smile, unable to help feeling anything but happiness in her mother’s presence. 

“Well that’s good, I hope,” she added, allowing herself to take a glance at her mom. 

She knew her parents had her young and it never surprised her that they still looked good after all this time. Her mother was still the beautiful woman that she always was. Time would never be able to change that, no matter how much it ever wanted to. Her smile was still in tact, almost blinding her daughter with how she was radiating happiness at seeing her daughter home at last. 

“You have no idea how much I miss seeing your face every day,” her mom continued. 

“I think I do, considering your call today,” she giggled in response. “How are the boys?” 

“We’re fine, thanks for asking,” a deeper voice called out from the top of the house’s stairs. The two women looked up at the man standing at the top. To no surprise, her father still looked great. Time had been friendly to her parents. He was still the handsome man he always was with his warm smile and the bit of sarcasm he always carried with him. 

“Hey, dad.” 

“What are you doing, just standing there?” he asked, starting to walk down the stairs. “You’re just gonna show up and not tell your old man when you’ve finally parked outside his house?” 

Her mother let her step by as the father and daughter were hugging again, smiling and laughing. Her face was tucked into her father’s shoulder as they held each other firmly then pulled away again. 

“Let’s get you inside before you have the chance to run off again,” her mother suggested from behind her, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. They all silently agreed to that with smiles on their faces as her father led the way, her mother taking up the rear. 

They entered the house and her mother closed the door behind them. She stuffed the few papers she had in her jacket pocket without either her mom or dad noticing. It was then that their loyal hound came to greet her, and after a good scratch behind the ears, he ran for the backyard again. 

“Hey, Junior!” her father called. “Guess who just showed up!” 

Before she could comprehend what was going on, her brother jumped over the couch in the living room, caught himself, and slammed into his sister. He picked her up in a hug as they all laughed and she hugged him back. 

“Well if it isn’t James Daniel Pendleton,” she managed to say, beginning to suffocate in James’ tight grip. At fourteen, her brother was a few inches taller than her now, and slim like their father with somewhat messy, dark hair and their father’s blue eyes. “Good God, you’ve grown.”

“And the doctor says I’m gonna be as tall as dad,” he replied, a hint of bass in his voice. He set his sister down before she spoke again, his hair mussed from the video game headset he’d been wearing. 

“Then I guess my little brother won’t be too little then, won’t he?” 

“Well when I’m 5’11” and jacked like dad was, don’t come crying to me because you got the bad set of genes,” James retorted, a smirk on his face. 

“I wasn’t jacked, Junior. We’ve been over that,” their father butted in, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. 

“And at least your sister finishes her school projects on time,” their mother added. “Go finish it, James. I’m not letting you fail American History.” 

“But, mom! She just got here!... And I want a rematch in Mario Kart!” James whined. 

“I’ll catch up with you later, James,” his sister replied. “Go do that project and I’ll whoop you in Mario Kart later.” 

A beat passed before James finally relented and headed upstairs. 

“Well someone didn’t get the stubborn gene, I see,” she said as her father made his way towards the kitchen, followed by her mother. Trailing behind her parents, she heard both of them laugh as her dad opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of root beer and sliding it across the kitchen island towards her. 

She caught it before the bottle could slide over the edge, smirking. As she popped the cap off, her mom leaned on the island by her forearms. Her husband came up beside her, draping his arm around his wife’s shoulders. They smiled at each other then looked back at their daughter, who was taking a sip of root beer. 

“So how’s Lilith?” her father asked as their dog came back into the house, sniffing around for any dropped food or potential hands to rub his head. 

“Fine, as usual,” she replied. “It’s the same as always, honestly.” 

“And Keene?” her mother asked. “How’d your meeting go with her this morning?” 

“She said the most peculiar thing,” her daughter replied, rifling through her jacket pocket and pulling out the printed pages discreetly. 

“Oh?” her mom asked again. 

“Yeah. She read my manuscript and she loved it,” she began. 

“Just like I knew she would,” her mother said, beaming. “I’m so proud of you--” 

“But she said something was missing,” she finished, cutting off her mom. Before either of her parents could speak, she did. “And then I went online and I looked you up, mom.” 

“Kiddo--” her dad started. 

“No,” she butted in, placing the printed pages on the kitchen island in front of her. “I asked you time and time again before I sent off my manuscript if I had everything. Every little detail and description. And then I go to my publisher and she’s the one that has to tell me that she knows something’s off. After that, I go online and I look up my mom for information I thought I already had.” She finally allowed herself to take a breath and she saw the nervous faces of her parents. “Do you know what I found?” she asked. 

“Please, Bug,” her mom said weakly. Her daughter slid the documents across the kitchen island. 

“An article you wrote about your parents. An article written by a teenager about you and your parents--” 

“Kid, I swear to God--” her dad started, almost angry. Her mom stood silently, taking in all the information. 

“Two separate court cases tied to your name--” 

“I’m warning you. Stop it.” 

“No, dad. I can’t,” she replied. “Not until I have everything. I need all of this for my manuscript.” 

“There are reasons why we don’t talk about these things--” 

“You mean reasons why I’ve never met my maternal grandparents--” 

“They are terrible people--” 

“I know enough about that. And I don’t want to ever meet them for what they did to mom!” she added. “But what I didn’t know is that mom sued them and got a restraining order on them.” 

“Those were dark times. Stand down--” 

“And what about the other court case that she’s tied to, dad?!” she exclaimed. “There is nothing about this court case or its existence in my manuscript! How is that possible?!” 

“You better stop right there--” 

“Neither of you ever mentioned anything about something to go to court over, but mom’s name is part of the headline!” 

“Don’t--”

“She deserves the truth, Jug!” her mom interrupted, making the entire room come to a halt. She tugged her husband back by her side. “Calm down.” The man nodded, sighing deeply. His wife looked towards their eldest child. 

“I have a lot to explain,” she said to her daughter calmly. “We have a lot to explain,” she corrected. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before.” Her mother genuinely looked on the verge of tears, an expression her daughter had seen only a handful of times. “We didn’t have the courage to tell you before.” 

“Please tell me, mom,” she began, still somewhat defensive. “Why didn't you tell me that dad was a witness in a sexual assault case? But even more importantly, why didn't you tell me  you were the victim?" 

---

Betty and her daughter ended up knocked out together, one on top of the other as they slept. Since they had both fallen asleep an hour earlier, neither had woken up. Betty was exhausted from giving birth to the girl and the girl was exhausted from being born, so Jughead assumed they were well enough for the moment. One of Betty’s hands rested in Jughead’s, as she fell asleep holding hands with him. Her other hand was holding her daughter securely to her body, the two snuggling. Jughead had stayed awake to make sure they slept soundly, knowing Betty deserved it and that his daughter needed it. 

He spent his time during those quiet moments watching his wife sleep comfortably with their daughter, the newborn girl asleep in her arms, and making sure Hot Dog was still okay (he was still sitting patiently). 

Betty was a beautiful mess, obviously spent from the day’s events. Her hair had been let down into the gorgeous blonde waves Jughead loved so much while Betty cuddled with the baby. When he looked at his daughter, he saw the same. The little sucker was dead asleep on her mother’s shoulder, napping in a position that he didn’t think was comfortable, but he could tell that the girl wasn’t in any pain. She must have been comfortable enough to not be bawling anyone’s ears off or waking her mom. 

Even if the girl did cry, Jughead thought that she wasn’t too likely to wake Betty up at this point. 

Even if Jughead started crying, he didn’t think he’d wake either of them up. 

And it was in that moment that Jughead seriously hoped his daughter would be a heavy sleeper like her mother. 

Betty didn’t have too many problems sleeping these days besides the occasional bad thunderstorm or batch of fireworks that got too close to the Pembrooke, so when she slept, she slept hard. Jughead had no doubt that the newest woman in the Cooper-Jones family would be just like her mom in that respect. 

Jughead looked over at her now and smiled at the peaceful being in Betty’s arms. She was visibly radiating warmth and innocence, her chubby cheek resting against her mother’s shoulder. She breathed slowly and peacefully as Jughead noted her hands were balled into fists and resting on Betty’s chest. Jughead watched her stretch a little, opening her hands for a moment before they closed around the edge of Betty’s hospital gown. He smiled contentedly. 

Jughead was less than surprised when Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni entered the room quietly a moment later. He was mildly shocked when they came in, but he was mostly unfazed. They were whispering to each other at first, but then they realized he was awake and began to approach him. 

“I tried to keep them out, but they wanted to check on you guys,” Cheryl whispered. 

“It’s okay,” Jughead said softly. “Those two are having a nap together,” he added, motioning to the mother and daughter in the hospital bed. “And Hot Dog’s having one on the floor, I think.” 

“Have you named her yet?” Toni asked hopefully. 

“Yeah. We have. But I’m not telling you until Betty’s awake,” he whispered. 

“You could wake her up…” Veronica suggested. Jughead rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, fine. But you three have to answer to her if she’s grumpy.” The three women nodded before Jughead stroked Betty’s back soothingly, laying small kisses to her cheek. Betty shifted in the bed, humming quietly before her eyes blinked open slowly. 

“Huh?” she asked, getting her bearings and sitting up a little, her palm on her daughter’s back. “Hey, guys.” 

“Tired?” Veronica asked. 

“You know it, V,” Betty replied, looking over and seeing the little girl swaddled and laying on her shoulder. One of her small arms had stretched out of the blanket, a hand gripping the edge of her hospital gown. “Goodness,” she whispered. 

“Oh my God,” Cheryl whispered. “That is the cutest thing I have ever seen.” 

“Apparently she’s a clingy one,” Betty laughed softly, stroking her thumb across the girl’s back. She looked up at her friends. “So… what’s up?” 

“They want to know her name,” Jughead replied for them, kissing Betty on the cheek. 

“Well… if you guys really want to know--” 

“Yes!” they exclaimed at the same time. 

“Jug, you should call your dad and let him know the good news,” Betty told him. “And bring Archie in when you’re done.” 

“Don’t start without me,” Jughead replied, kissing Betty’s forehead before exiting the room to call his dad. 

“How’s she been?” Toni asked, redirecting Betty’s attention. 

“Sleeping. And eating,” she replied. The three women laughed at that. “Guys…” She got their attention back before she continued. “She has Jughead’s hair,” she whispered as if the revelation was a secret. They all stopped to smile. 

“That’s so precious,” Veronica added as Betty took her daughter off of one shoulder to reposition her to her other one, the baby’s face still tucked into Betty’s neck. She tucked her tiny arm back under the blanket draped over the two of them. 

“Are you guys holding up alright?” the blonde asked. 

“You would be the one to push a baby out of you and then ask your friends three hours later if they are okay,” Cheryl replied. “We’re fine, B. And very happy for you.” 

They talked for a while about whatever came to their minds, but mostly about the new addition to their group. Betty told them about Jughead’s hilarious first attempt at changing their child’s diaper, about how she couldn’t help but smile when Jughead held their daughter, and about how she cried when she saw her baby’s eyes for the first time. 

“They were so green,” Betty whispered with a smile on her face. “There was nothing like looking into her eyes--”

But then the infant started crying from where she was laying on Betty’s shoulder. The blonde’s attention immediately fixed itself on the tiny human that used to be sleeping as she picked her up gently with both hands. Hot Dog sat up at the small human’s cries, still curious to meet the tiny being. 

‘’Oh, you don’t like that side, do you?” Betty asked in her baby voice as she switched shoulders, placing the little girl on her original side and loosening the blanket before pulling it away completely. “Shh… You’re okay… I gotcha…” The child started to calm down rapidly as Betty stroked her back softly, seeming to fall back asleep on her mother’s chest. Hot Dog looked away again, realizing he probably wouldn’t have a chance to meet the baby until they got home. 

Jughead must have heard the crying from outside because he and Archie came in at once, Jughead making a beeline for his wife. Betty looked up at her friends and husband as her daughter fell asleep without another sound and without the blanket covering her back. 

“Looks like she was just a little too warm,” Betty said, looking down at the girl. Jughead evidently sighed in relief. 

“And now that everyone’s here…” Jughead added. “I guess we should tell you her name. It’s--” 

“Wait,” Betty said, trying to get his attention. 

“But--” 

“Jug.” 

“Seriously, Betty--” 

“Jughead,” she said a little louder, still looking over at their child. 

“Betty--” he began, finally turning to face her. 

“Look,” she said simply, shifting the little girl so she was resting in the crook of her arm. He came closer and saw what she was seeing. 

“Hello again,” he whispered, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. 

“What’s going on?” Archie asked, walking over to where Veronica was. 

“She opened her eyes again,” Jughead whispered, mesmerized. He laughed as Betty looked up at him. She was crying again. The little girl was also looking up at him with eyes as green as her mother’s. 

She was taking in everything around her, wide green eyes wandering from the room to her father’s face. She cooed when Jughead smiled. He pointed a finger towards her and the child reached up and grabbed it, bringing her small fingers around her father’s much larger one. The baby slowly let go of his finger and giggled softly when Jughead made a funny face at her. 

“Let them see,” Betty told Jughead. He stepped back, letting her friends look over and see the wandering pair of small eyes with a look of wonder on her face. Betty was grinning from ear to ear as Jughead joined her on the other side of the bed, kissing her cheek. 

“Oh sweet Lord,” Veronica exclaimed, Archie’s hand on her shoulder. “She really does have your eyes, B.” 

“I’ll say,” Toni and Cheryl added at the same time. 

“I can’t believe it,” Betty whispered, still looking at the baby, who was looking up at her now. She stroked her daughter’s cheek and her mouth opened, gazing up into her mother’s matching pair of eyes. The baby cooed again when her mom smiled at her, which just made Betty grin even wider. 

“So,” Veronica began, distracting everyone. “What’s her name?” 

Betty and Jughead looked at each other before Betty spoke up. 

“Lily Elizabeth Pauline Cooper-Jones.” 

“After Betty, Polly, and their favorite flower,” Jughead added, a warm palm on Betty’s shoulder. 

“Beautiful! I approve,” Cheryl interjected. 

“Same here,” Toni added. 

“Oh, B…” Veronica whined as Betty brought Lily up to rest on her shoulder. The child nuzzled into her neck and fell asleep once again.

“I know, V.” 

“It’s beautiful,” she added, tearing up. 

“Ronnie,” she said, trying to gain her best friend’s attention. “Jughead and I want to make you and Archie her godparents.” 

And that’s when Veronica really let go of all of her tears, leaning in to hug the blonde. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Betty laughed. 

“What do you say?” Jughead asked across the bed to Archie. 

“Of course, Jug. I’d be happy to,” he replied, a smile on his face. 

After Veronica was able to calm herself and pull herself away from her best friend, Betty covered Lily’s small body with the blanket again. 

All seemed right in the world at that moment. Betty knew that she wasn’t going to end up like her parents. Just having her daughter in her arms made all of those fears slip away. She knew in that moment that she wanted Lily to never be afraid of her, no matter what she did. She knew that she would never lay an unkind finger on her daughter. 

She looked up at Jughead while they absorbed the happiness resounding in the room. His comforting hand was on her shoulder. His presence combined with that of Lily, sleepily stretching on Betty’s other side, made Betty’s heart flutter. They were heating up her soul little by little until she could feel a love-fueled warmth inside of her. 

The cycle of abuse ended right there. In no way was Lily Cooper-Jones going to be put in the same familial environment that Betty had. Betty was going to do better, and with Jughead by her side, of course. 

The room eventually cleared for the night, leaving Jughead and Betty alone with their daughter and Hot Dog. The lights had been dimmed in the room, and a pale moonbeam was coming through the window, lighting through the slats in the blinds. Everything was quiet. Peaceful. 

Betty looked at Jughead and she unsurprisingly found him watching her. She’d caught him staring at her at random times, while she was simply existing. He always had that simple smile on his face, beaming at her while she ate, or ranted about Hemingway, or when she’d wake up and see him wide awake… he just loved to watch her exist. She knew that (because he’d told her one night after he had one too many drinks with Archie and Reggie).  

“I love you,” she said, looking into his calming, blue eyes. “So much.” 

“What have I done to make you feel this way?” he asked, a smug grin on his face because he knew the answer to her question. 

“You keep me safe,” she said, knowing that tears would soon take over if she wasn’t careful. “From random fans every now and then, the press when they think they have a new angle on whatever… terrible people that used to come into my life before I banished them all.” She got a single laugh out of Jughead for that last one and she had to admit… she smiled too. “Because of you, I’m safe now,” she said seriously. “And I love you for it. All of it.” 

At first, Jughead only responded with a smile. It was one of those smiles that he gave her whenever he was proud of her, or happy for her, or simply in awe of her. 

Then he slid his chair closer to her, cutting the gap between them. He was still smiling, and Betty was unsurprised at what came next. 

He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, his hand cupping the back of her head. They breathed each other in so flawlessly that Betty forgot she was in the hospital. She couldn’t put a hand on his face like she wanted to because she was holding Lily, but she kissed back with the same amount of tenderness that Jughead was exuding towards her. 

They eventually came back up for air, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I love you too, Betty,” he whispered. 

It was then she realized her life couldn’t get better than this. 

---

“So you admit you lied,” she began. 

“We withheld the truth, Lily, and I’m sorry,” her mom replied. 

“Betty--” 

“Jughead, no,” she interrupted. “We owe this to her. I’m tired of hiding it.” 

“Okay,” he replied softly. They both turned back to their eldest child. 

“We’ll tell you everything you don’t know,” she said. “We’ll explain all of it.” 

Ten minutes later, Lily was sitting between her parents on their couch in the living room, trying to absorb all of the information they had just relayed to her. Her mom explained most of it. She told Lily about her abusive relationship. About how that awful person had tracked her down and tried to take her away multiple times. About the PTSD she experienced from her abusive parents and her ex boyfriend. Betty had explained that Lily’s grandparents were probably in Canada or something, but nowhere close to them. Jughead explained that her mother’s abuser was sitting in the New York state prison system with no chance of ever being released. 

They told her about how Hot Dog, the old sheepdog that had passed years ago, was actually a therapy dog for Betty while she was going through much of this. They made sure she knew that Hot Dog Jr, their second sheepdog, was not a therapy dog. 

They told her about the two court cases, about all of the terrible things that happened two and a half years before she was born, but they also talked about some of the better things that happened to them as well… things that happened between them because of those terrible things. 

When they were done, Lily exhaled heavily, finally understanding the weight of the situation. 

“I’m so sorry for being so defensive, mom,” Lily whimpered, tears pricking her eyes. “I had no idea.” 

“I know,” Betty replied, pulling her daughter into a comforting hug. “I know you didn’t know. It’s okay.” Lily hugged back, pressing her face into her mother’s shoulder. Betty smoothed out her daughter’s hair as she cried. 

“I love you,” Lily sobbed after a few mostly silent moments. 

“We love you too, Bug,” her father replied. Jughead brought his arm around his wife’s shoulder, comforting her and Lily. 

They just sat there holding onto each other for an indeterminate amount of time. Lily felt a sort of comfort from her parents that she hadn’t felt in a while, not since she’d moved out. Sure, she had friends in college and at Lilith, but no one knew her like her family did. No one was prouder of her than her family. No one would ever support her as well as her family would. They loved her too much, and she loved them too much in return. Lily decided then that her situation was so much better than the alternative… the alternative that her mother had before her. 

After years and years of hearing stories from her parents’ past, it was all beginning to click. Every puzzle piece had its place now. The Cooper-Jones family was simply filled with love because love always won out in her parents’ hearts. Over twenty years later, they made their way to the Riverdale cemetery to visit Aunt Polly. They went to Grandma and Grandpa Jones’ house for Thanksgiving and Christmas, celebrating with Aunt Jelly, her husband, and her kids. They spent time with Aunts Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni, and Uncle Archie and all of their kids (adopted, in the case of Aunts Cheryl and Toni) for July 4th and a few other holidays, even though they weren’t related by blood. 

“Home is where the heart is,” Betty had told Lily long ago, after she asked about how Aunt Veronica and Uncle Archie were family. “Your father and I love them, and they love us… so they’re family. It’s the exact same with Aunt Cheryl and Aunt Toni.” 

Love was written in the cards for the Cooper-Jones family because hate had gotten them nowhere. It was only fate that there was so much love in one household. Her parents had done their time with hate, and all that was left to do was to love each other. 

Realizing this, Lily sniffled and pulled herself to sit up and back against the couch while her parents looked at her, trying to gauge her emotions. They had always been so good at that, but this time they didn’t seem to know what was going on in her head. 

“What are you thinking about, Lil?” her mom asked, rubbing her daughter’s back. Lily shook her head at first, unable to find the right words as Hot Dog placed his head in her hands. 

“I was just thinking about how everything sounded like shit for you guys before James and I came along, but now…” She trailed off, not knowing what to say. 

“But now we’re happy?” her father finished for her. Lily nodded. 

“You’re all so happy,” she added. “You guys, Ronnie, Archie, Cheryl and Toni… After all of the shit you’ve gone through… you’re all still happy, leading happy lives, raising children…” 

“We made a better life for ourselves after all of it,” Betty said. “We felt like that was what we deserved, so we created it for ourselves. Cheryl and Toni only decided they wanted to adopt a kid because they babysat you every so often.” 

“You were the flower girl at Archie and Veronica’s wedding when you were three,” Jughead added. 

“And they wouldn’t have gotten married so soon if you hadn’t asked them about it when you were two,” Betty said, causing them all to laugh a little. 

“We’re happy because we want to be, not because we have to be.” 

Those words said by her father rang in Lily’s head for a moment before she sprung off the couch, racing to her car outside. Throwing open the trunk, she found her backpack, slung it over her shoulder before closing the hatch, then running back inside. She threw her backpack in the chair, unloading materials as her parents got off the couch and walked over to her. 

“What’s going on?” Betty asked, looking over all of the stuff Lily was putting on the kitchen’s island. 

“I’m going to rewrite my entire manuscript,” she replied. “I’ll need to record you both again--” 

“Lily, I thought the one you had was good,” Jughead interjected. 

“Yes, but that one is also missing key events that you guys left out,” Lily said, pulling her notepad in front of her and placing the recorder in front of her parents. “So I’m going to need you guys to tell the story again--” 

“Lily--” 

“And I’m going to call Lilith and tell them I’ll be out for a week and--” 

“Bug--” 

“I can stay in my room and write until I finish,” she said, clicking the end of her pen, ready for them to begin. “So. We’re going to try this again.” 

“But your internship--” 

“We have an agreement,” Lily interrupted. “They understand I’m writing this book and they give me time to work on it and go to meetings with publishers and editors. I’ll simply be out of the office. They can survive without me.” 

“Are you sure?” Jughead asked. 

“I would rather write this book than keep an internship I’m not even getting paid for, so long as you’ll let me crash here for the week,” Lily declared. “If you’ll have me, of course…” 

“Of course, we’ll have you, kiddo,” Betty said, placing her hand on Lily’s arm. “However long you need.” 

“Then let’s get started, shall we?” Lily asked. Her parents nodded. “Excellent.” 

“Just to be clear, you want us to start from the beginning again?” Jughead asked, his hand intertwined with Betty’s. 

“From the beginning,” Lily clarified. “Start the day that you saw each other for the first time.” She pressed record. “I’m ready whenever you are.” 

“Betty,” Jughead said softly. Her head turned to face her husband. “You should start, I think.” 

“Oh! And I don’t want to hear the details of your… intimacies,” Lily said. “I don’t need to know any of that. Please don’t tell me.” 

“Got it,” Betty replied, smirking. Lily could tell that both of her parents were trying not to laugh. “The day we saw each other for the first time?” she asked again. 

“The very first,” Lily replied, ready to take notes. Betty sighed in preparation before she looked into her daughter’s mirrored green eyes, starting to tell their story. 

“It was February 18th, 2019…” she said. “Around 11:30 PM, I stepped out of the New York Times building and paused for a moment to adjust to the chilly New York City air… There was an earbud in my ear playing the internet’s newest pop song…” 

---

When her parents finished, Lily stopped the recording and hugged both of her parents at the same time. They and Hot Dog Jr. watched her pack her things in her backpack before they wished her luck and she ran upstairs to her room. She opened the door, allowing herself to look back on her childhood for only a moment, then threw her backpack on her bed, pulled out her laptop, and began to write. 

Lily wrote for hours at a time, the words simply flowing out of her. Her fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, punching out letters into the brand new document she had started. The edited tale her parents had told her was ingrained in her head and she only needed to go back to the recording for clarifications and things. 

She only came out of her room for meals, and when she did so, she didn’t talk much. James was quite confused, as was their sheepdog, as to what she was doing. Betty and Jughead simply looked at each other with a smile on their face any time James asked about it, explaining that Lily was in her writer’s cave. 

After 297 pages were written in ten days, Lily loaded the file onto a USB drive and hauled ass to the local printing store. She made two copies of her rough manuscript. When she got home, she gave one copy to each of her parents, telling them to separate, read it, and come back to her. 

While they did that, Lily looked through her manuscript and edited, correcting the copy on her computer. 

Betty finished reading first and came back to Lily with a few clarifications, which she accepted gratefully. Jughead finished a little later, also coming back with a few corrections. 

Two days later, Lily took herself back to the printing store with a new copy of her manuscript and made four copies. Her parents took two of them and read through the entire thing, she kept one for herself, and she prepared one to be sent to Katy Keene at Sweetwater Publishing. 

Lily waited anxiously for Betty and Jughead to come back to her. After an hour of nervous waiting, James came into her room with Hot Dog Jr. 

“I don’t know what you’ve done to mom and dad, but they aren’t around to make me do my history project,” he said. Lily scoffed with a smile and shook her head good-naturedly. 

“You want a Mario Kart rematch from the last time I threw you six feet under?” Lily asked. 

“I’m gonna win this time,” James insisted as they both got up, heading down the stairs and towards the living room. 

“You wish, Jamesy,” she teased, jumping over the back of the couch. “Let me show you how the pros do it.” 

---

After three rounds of Mario Kart, James gave up after Lily scored perfectly - and beat him - every time. 

“I yield,” he grumbled, looking at the final score screen for the third time that day. “You’re too good.” 

“Oh, you’ll get there if you’re anything like me,” Lily replied, sitting back on the couch with a look of accomplishment on her face. She ruffled her little brother’s dark hair before he swatted her hand away and they laughed together. “So what’s life like?” she asked. “You got a girlfriend yet?” 

“Pfft. No,” James replied. “It’s just me and Will Topaz - and Freddy and Ben Andrews on the weekends - hanging around here.” 

The four boys were all about the same age, and better than best friends. Their parents were all close, which helped, but Veronica and Archie Andrews were still living in New York City with older daughter Lauren, and younger twin sons Freddy and Benjamin. They usually came up to Riverdale every so often to visit the Cooper-Joneses and the Topazes. Cheryl and Veronica had followed Betty and Jughead’s lead, moving to Riverdale for a quieter town atmosphere and so William and Charlotte, their adopted older son and younger daughter, could go to school with Lily and James. 

“Mom and dad really miss you, Lil,” James added after a beat of silence. “I do too.” 

“I might come back to Riverdale after college,” she told him. “Don’t tell mom and dad, but I might want to work with them at the Riverdale Register.”  

“Of course you do,” he said with a smile. “That’s where they ‘retired’ to.” Betty and Jughead were only in their forties, and they never liked when Lily and James referred to them as retired because they both quit their journalism jobs in New York City so they could move to Riverdale permanently. They ran the town paper together at the moment, and they didn’t earn much money from that, but it made them happy. 

Lily jabbed at James’ shoulder and he fell on her dramatically, groaning in false agony. 

“Oh, the horror!” he moaned. “I am leaving far too soon from this life!” He then pretended to faint. “Blehhhh.” 

“Well if James is dead, then I guess he wouldn’t care if I, say… body slam him into the couch!” Lily was about to jump up when James scrambled away. 

“No!” he yelled, laughing. “Please, no!” 

“Oh my God, you’re alive!” Lily exclaimed sarcastically, both of them cracking up into laughter on the floor. 

“Hey, Lily,” Jughead’s voice cut through their laughing, making James and Lily stop in their tracks. “Can we talk to you for a minute?” Lily sat up, seeing her father in the doorway to the kitchen. Getting up, she ruffled James’ hair again before she went to her parents. 

They were standing together, something obviously on their minds. 

“Hey,” Lily greeted. “What’s up?” 

“Your mother and I--” 

“Send the manuscript to Keene,” Betty butted in. She was absolutely serious, as Lily could tell by her mother’s stoic expression. 

“Seriously?” Lily asked. “You’re giving me the go ahead?” 

“It’s brilliant, Lil,” Jughead replied. 

“It does us justice,” Betty said, her eyes glassy. “You really wrote it perfectly. And I want to see it in the book store’s front window in the future.” 

Lily smiled, seeing how proud Betty was of her. 

“Now go get your computer so I can watch you send that electronic manuscript to Keene,” Betty added, trying to keep her emotions at bay. Lily laughed brightly, running around to give Betty a strong hug. 

“And then we can go to the post office and mail off the physical copy together?” Lily asked. “Just like last time?” 

“Just like last time,” Betty repeated, grinning. “Now go get the damn computer.” Lily laughed again, stepping out of her mother’s hug, giving Jughead a high five on the way out, and running up the stairs as fast as her legs could take her. 

Jughead looked over at the love of his life with a smug grin on his face. 

“I think we’ve got another bestselling author in the family,” he quipped, kissing Betty’s forehead. 

“That we do, Juggie,” she replied, hugging around his torso. “That we do.” 

James entered the kitchen with Hot Dog Jr. on his heels, obviously confused. 

“Mom? Dad?” he asked. “What was that about?” 

Betty and Jughead looked at each other with a knowing expression, then looked back at their son. 

“You can read all about it when your sister’s a published author,” Jughead replied, he and Betty smiling widely. 

---

Author’s Note

Lily Cooper-Jones

This story is by no means a happy story. It has a dark beginning and a rough middle, but it does have a better ending than most. It will all get worse before it can get better. 

The events I will relay to you are all true. 

My mother was lucky, even if she didn’t believe it. The only reason she is alive today is by chance. She just so happened to be in the same place as my father. Had the stars not aligned just so, my parents never would have met. My brother and I would not exist. My mother could have been trapped in an awful situation, badly injured, or worse: dead. 

I was named after two resilient women: my mother and her sister. Elizabeth and Polly Cooper. My brother, after James Dean, Danny Zuko, and my father. 

The reason I bring you this story is to show that there is hope, even when you’re at one of your lowest points in life. Things can get better. Things can go your way, even if it seems as if the world is against you. Vicious cycles can break, and change can occur. 

The actions of one person can change your life forever. 

This story is an example of that. 

My name is Lily Elizabeth Pauline Cooper-Jones, and it is my privilege to tell you the story of my parents, Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones. 

We begin on a dark February night: the night that my parents’ lives changed forever… 

Finding Safety in Security

by Lily Cooper-Jones

Chapter One: Trauma