Chapter Text
“Elizabeth!”
Betty paused, sighing heavily despite the smile finding its way to her lips. She turned on her heel, waiting for Jughead, the scrappy yet loveable mess of a man that lived next door to her to catch up.
He slid to a stop in the fresh snow next to her, offering her his elbow before they continued on- together this time. “Thanks.”
“You know that you really can call me Betty , right?”
He smiled warmly, like he did every time she tried to urge him away from using her given name. “Yes, but that's not your name.”
“Nicknames aren't the end of the world.”
He waved her off, glancing around at the flakes of snow falling around them. “Where are you heading?”
“Just to the auction house.” She glanced upward at the falling snow before she looked at him again. She couldn't help but smile at the content look on his face as he looked ahead, alternating between their direct path and the ground in front of them. “Do you have any end destination or are you being your usual, creepy self?”
He frowned pointedly. “I'm not creepy, Elizabeth.”
Betty rolled her eyes. “You just pop out of back alleys at the random, my mistake.”
“Hey, I followed you today.” He paused, pursing his lips. “That doesn't sound right.” He sighed after a moment of quiet, shaking his head before his shoulders slumped. He rested his hand over hers, slowly brushing his thumb along her knuckles. “I left when you were about a block ahead of me and I didn't want to slip,” he corrected.
Betty nodded him on.
“I'm heading to the store,” he continued.
“Good,” she sighed, holding him just a little tighter as they continued walking. She loved the little bookstore next to the auction house she worked at; it didn't really look like it belonged sandwiched between two skyscrapers, the shortest building for at least several blocks, but that only made it cuter.
“Good?” He was grinning at the street in front of them when she glanced back at him.
“Yeah,” Betty said. “I always have good days when you're working next door.”
“Always?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Nine times out of ten.”
Jughead blushed as he continued looking forward. “Oh.” He glanced over at her with a bright smile. “I found a book for you.”
“ Another ?”
He nodded. “This one's even better than the last.”
“You always say that,” Betty sighed.
“Am I ever wrong?”
She hummed in thought, thinking over the books he'd sent her way in recent memory. “No,” she admitted. “I guess you're right...in that one specific respect.” She smirked when she saw shock flash across his face out of the corner of her eye.
“You're rude , Elizabeth.”
Betty shrugged a shoulder. “You're far too touchy today, Jughead.”
He sighed, sinking further into his warm-looking light wash sherpa. “I am not .”
“You are,” Betty insisted, slowing to a stop at the edge of the crosswalk. “To be fair, snow does make you cranky.”
He rolled his eyes. “I just like being home when it snows.” He smiled down at his shoes as they began walking again. “Getting snowed in means cookies.”
Betty smiled. For as long as she could remember, Jughead had been in the apartment next door; she couldn't imagine life without the faint smell of cigarettes wafting in from the fire escape like clockwork with each of his daily cigarettes, climbing over from her fire escape to his every Wednesday for movie nights, stealing cups of sugar to bake him cookies, and snow days spent wrapped up in thick blankets with mugs of homemade soup on her couch while something they weren't even paying attention to played in the background. Life next door was natural, it only made sense that they'd work next to each other, too. “I can always make cookies by request, I just don't have the additives stocked up.” She paused, scrunching up her nose. “Especially the weird ones.”
He sighed. “You're so closed-minded sometimes.”
Betty rolled her eyes. “Popcorn and potato chip cookies were a lot to process at three in the morning, I'm sorry.”
“But you see the beauty of them.”
She sighed, reaching out to steal his cigarettes from his breast pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking to see if these are cut with something.”
He chuckled. “Like what?”
“Cannabis.” She shrugged, glancing up at him before she handed the white and red box back to him. “Apparently, you're just strange.”
He rolled his eyes. “You knew that already.”
Betty smiled, resting her head on his shoulder as they continued on.
They hugged at the door of her building before splitting up.
She watched him flip through his keys as he walked next door, finally walking inside when he managed to unlock the door. She crossed the lobby, walking over to the elevator for her long trip up to the thirty-third floor.
The day began like any other.
Betty set her things down, went to the break room for a cup of coffee, and sat down at her desk.
She smiled at a text from Jughead, begging her to stop by the shop when she was done so they could walk home together. She typed out a yes before she turned to her computer, checking her emails.
Betty quickly got lost in her work, ignoring her buzzing phone in favour of studying the ring on top of her pile (metaphorical, of course) of things to do. She only glanced up when there was a knock at the door before her secretary poked their head in. “What's up, Evelyn?”
“There's someone here to see you, Betty.” She glanced out into the hallway before poking her head back in. “He said it was urgent.”
Betty brows furrowed. She didn't have any appointments today. “Send him in.” Betty shrugged.
Evelyn nodded before closing the door.
Betty had just packed up the ring when the door opened.
Jughead walked in slowly, closing the door as he looked down at the ground. “I need you to come with me.” He worried his lower lip between his teeth before he glanced up when Betty didn't speak.
“What?” she finally breathed.
“Please, you have to trust me. I need your help.”
“With what ?”
“No questions asked. Just this once, I'll explain when we get to my apartment.”
“What's going on?”
“Elizabeth, please .”
Betty sighed, looking down at her laptop before she stood up. “You better have a damn good explanation for this.” She walked over to her coat rack, grabbing the long light blue jacket. Her brows furrowed when she caught the smile on his lips. “What's with that face?”
He shrugged, unable to stop smiling as he looked down at the ground. After a moment he seemed to sober up, glancing over her when she hadn't moved. “Ready?”
“You-”
“I'm one hundred percent not important right now, let's go.” He grabbed her hand, giving her just enough time to grab her purse before tugging her out into the hallway.
Evelyn stood up from her L shaped desk as they passed by. “Betty, where are you-”
“Hold my calls. I'll be in first thing tomorrow.”
Her brows furrowed. “Don't you have-”
“Cancel everything, I need to go .”
Jughead pulled her forward when the doors to the elevator opened. He hit the button for the ground floor, impatiently hitting the close door button while Evelyn stepped closer. He stepped between them when she almost stuck her arm between the panels. “I really think you should stop.”
Evelyn froze just before the doors slid closed.
Betty's eyes widened. “What the fuck?” she whispered, looking down at their joined hands.
“She's fine,” Jughead promised, looking over his shoulder at her. “Just a little suggestion she won't even remember now that we're gone.” Something she couldn't place passed over his features. “Not that it matters much anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
Jughead turned back to her, gently gripping her shoulders between his hands. “I need you to just follow me home. As soon as we're in someone's apartment, you can ask me anything you want, but for now, I can't even pretend to lie and you're not going to understand a word I'm saying.” The elevator bell rang out, alerting them that they were on the ground floor in record time. “Can you do that?” Jughead asked, drawing her attention back to him.
Had his eyes always been such a vibrant shade of gray?
“Sure,” Betty mumbled, practically hypnotized by them.
“Good,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “Just focus on me,” he breathed.
Betty nodded, stepping out of the elevator in time with him.
The next thing she knew, she was stepping over the threshold of his apartment. She blinked, taken aback at the sudden change of scenery. “What happened?”
Jughead kicked out of his shoes as he walked over to the living room, turning on the news.
“Jughead, answer me!”
He held his hand out to her, urging her to walk over. “Come here,” he said calmly.
Betty took a steadying breath before she walked over, taking his hand as she turned towards the television.
“ A six-point-six magnitude earthquake has struck the District of Columbia, causing unprecedented damage across the capital city. ” He flipped the station to a report of wildfires in the Midwest; flooding in the South; swarms of locusts attacking cities over in Europe.
“Juggie, you're scaring me,” Betty breathed, leaning into his side, desperate for the familiar comfort of his warmth despite what he was showing her. “What’s this about?”
He wriggled out of her touch, gripping her by the shoulders as he looked down at her. “Elizabeth, you're an angel.”
Her eyes went wide as she struggled to get out of his grasp. “What are you talking about?”
“Elizabeth-”
“I work at an auction house in the greediest city in the world!”
“That doesn't-”
“I litter!”
He paused, blinking as if he hadn't expected to hear that from her. He dissolved into laughter, wrapping his arms around himself as he tried to catch his breath.
Betty watched him, unsure what to say as she looked on, puzzled by his strange behaviour.
He wiped his eyes after he finally collected himself. “Two thousand years and you can still make me laugh harder than anyone else.” He sighed, a wistful look in his eyes as he gave her a once over. “Do you remember Naples?” he asked suddenly.
Her brows furrowed.
His lip twitched into a frown before he forced a smile into place. “I think it was around the fourteenth century. You had this affinity for yellow peaches and no matter how I cut them, you would always manage to get juice on your chin.” He looked so happy reminiscing that Betty almost forgot what he was actually saying. He swallowed, scratching the back of his neck. “You spent fifty years letting me chase you around Paris,” he tried, laughing awkwardly. “And Spain-”
“Stop,” Betty interrupted. “Stop it, Jughead. You're not making sense. Natural disasters happen all the time!”
“Not like this,” he argued. “This is shit of biblical proportions.”
“So, what, you're some kind of angel, too, or are you a demon? And- and why can’t I remember all of this? Shouldn't I have some recollection of running around Paris with you?”
“What's the first thing you remember?” Jughead tried. “What are your parents' names? Did you have a dog or a cat growing up?”
Betty froze, desperately racking her brain for answers to any of his questions.
“You can't remember because they don't exist .”
“Shut up.”
“New York is just like Paris and London and Montréal; another notch on your bedpost before you move onto the next city with no memory of the last.”
Betty shook her head. “That doesn't make sense .”
“It's the truth.” Jughead took a step closer, pausing when she recoiled.
“What are you?”
“An angel.” He sighed, reaching up to rub his brow. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“I fell.”
“Fell?”
“Are you hearing an echo?” Jughead asked, laughing awkwardly before he caught sight of her narrowed eyes. He cleared his throat. “I was kicked out.”
Her body immediately relaxed, a frown finding its way to her lips. “What?”
He nodded, shrugging sheepishly. “I'm not the best at following rules.” He paused. “I was about to fall and you jumped-” He shook his head. “I was always a problem child, but you...you were so good and he couldn't damn you as easily. I could live forever by your side, but I couldn't tell you the truth.”
Betty stayed quiet as she took in his words. He still sounded absolutely insane, but he was her only contact with the world outside of work- she owed it to him to at least listen . “When?”
Jughead swallowed. “Over a thousand years ago,” he said softly.
Rage sparked within her at his words. “So, what?” she said. “You let me stumble around like this for a thousand years?”
“No.” He shook his head quickly, reaching out to rest his hand on her shoulder. “No, I was always watching over you or close by.” His hand slowly trailed up her neck before he reached her jaw. “I would never let anything happen to you, Elizabeth.”
“That's not my name!”
Jughead stayed quiet, waiting for her to speak again.
Betty sighed after a moment, pursing her lips as she looked down at the ground. “Why didn't you tell me?”
“You were happy.”
She was sure he didn't mean it as one, but the idea of him watching over her and just letting her be happy was a gut-punch. “You were miserable.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I didn't mind.”
Silence filled the air for a few heavy moments. “Do you have wings?” she asked after a moment of hesitation.
He blinked, looking down at the ground before he met her gaze again. “Not anymore.”
The hollow look in his eyes made her heart clench in her chest. She reached out to rest her hand on his hip, pulling him closer. “Do I?”
He smiled warmly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yes.” He scanned her face before he spoke again. “They're brilliant .”
Betty couldn't help the smile that found its way to her lips. She paused. “Why are you telling me this now?”
His shoulders fell as he glanced back at the television. “We're at the end of days.” Thunder boomed in the background, punctuating his statement.
“So...you pulled me out of work?”
He shrugged. “I spent the last thousand years watching over you, why was I going to stop now?”
She worried her lower lip between her teeth. “You sound crazy.”
“I know,” he whispered, nodding his head. His thumb swept over her cheek, making her relax into his touch. “Do you believe me?”
After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.
He smiled, leaning forward to kiss her brow.
“Will I ever get my memories back?”
His smile faulted. “There's talk.”
Her brows furrowed.
“When the apocalypse is here,” he clarified. “There's supposed to be a horn, or maybe a bell-” He sighed, shaking his head. “There are other angels like you. There had to be something to call us home- ” He used air quotes around the word home, a slight sarcastic lilt to his words. “It's all very…”
“Biblical?”
Jughead glanced up at her, nodding after a moment. “Unfortunately.”
Betty hummed in acknowledgement.
There was a sharp whistle that sounded, suddenly shocking every muscle of her nervous system before her memories came flooding back.
She remembered living atop fluffy white clouds, spending her days wandering around with her fingers tangled through those of a grumpy angel with raven black hair; an argument that ended with her falling for what felt like forever, only to awaken in a small cottage, her memories wiped clean as a man with black hair and kind eyes pressed a cold washcloth against a cut in her lower lip; falling into the arms of an established businessman with kind eyes and a warm smile only hours after arriving by boat to the thriving industrial city of New York. She suddenly remembered the intense feeling of locking eyes with him for the first time, as if the dozens and dozens of chance encounters were happening at once. “Forsythe,” she gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.
He smiled, reaching up to cup her face in his hands. His eyes quickly lined with tears. “Elizabeth,” he breathed, resting his forehead against hers. “I've missed you so much.”
Betty pulled him into a kiss, gripping his hair tightly as she tasted his mouth. She gasped when his arms locked around her waist. “Forsythe.” She felt her eyes begin to mist up at the intense feeling of home as she was wrapped in his arms.
His hands shook as he gripped her tightly. His fingers were fisted in the fabric of her jacket, holding her as if someone would take her away.
She leaned into his touch, relaxing as his body began to untense. She kissed the shell of his ear. “Do you know why I jumped?”
He smiled weakly against the crook of her neck. “I just thought you were crazy,” he admitted.
“No.” Betty sighed. She pulled back slowly, reaching up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I realized that I couldn't live the rest of my life without you.”
His smile fell as more tears sprang to his eyes. “I'm not worth the trouble, Elizabeth.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor before he met her gaze again. “I was a bad angel.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You were just unconventional.” She brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Like a Norse God or the invention of Marxism.”
He smiled weakly. “Do you remember that?”
Betty sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “I remember a disgusting office setting with one very nice man who loved to talk about the news.”
He smiled warmly.
“Actually,” she said, smiling softly. “I do remember one thing.”
Jughead quirked a brow. “Oh yeah?”
Betty nodded, tugging him closer by his belt loops. “ To Love Somebody on the grass at Woodstock.”
He swallowed hard, his cheeks going pink. “Really?”
She nodded again. “I remember-” She reached out for his hand, threading her fingers through his. “You were very bold.”
He laughed sheepishly. “I was on so many drugs.”
Betty laughed, nodding her head again. “Me too.” She smiled softly as she looked at his face. “I think I saw you.”
He rolled his eyes. “You did way more than that.”
“No,” she rolled her eyes despite the smile on her lips. “ You .” She paused at the memory of him bathed in light, almost blindingly beautiful, just as she remembered him in heaven. “I think I saw you as yourself. I was just too fucked up to realize it.”
He swallowed, looking down at her lips. “That was the best night since creation.” He frowned after a moment. “I cried when you left.”
She frowned, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I'm sorry. I just couldn't wake you. You looked so peaceful and if I stayed-” She shook her head, unable to get the words out. Instead, she leaned forward to kiss him.
He gasped, pulling her closer.
She kissed him harder when she tasted salt on her tongue, unsure who was crying, but not really caring.
She remembered him again and she'd never felt so alive.
He reached out to touch her cheek, his calloused fingers against her sensitive skin, sending a shiver up her spine. “Elizabeth, take me,” he breathed into her mouth as he pulled her closer. “Please.”
“I don't think we have time.” She glanced out the window. “There's an apocalypse going on, remember?”