Chapter Text
‘Sometimes I know how it ends before it begins.
But you were unexpected.
I chased you off the only path I knew
And all I know now
Is without you, I could never find my way.’
- Alicia N. Green
'For as long as anyone could remember, the North and South sides of Riverdale had despised one another. And with good reason. The North Side was full of the rich, wealthy, middle-class citizens with perfect records and skeletons are so well hidden that no one would ever be able to dig them up. It was drenched in blues and golds and was the sparkling jewel of the county. The North Side was beautiful, it certainly was and the sort of place you wanted to live in; it was the side of town you wanted to belong to because that meant you were secure, you were safe. The South Side, on the other hand, was a stain on the perfect innocent veneer that Riverdale was so desperate to cling to, despite both sides of the tracks being overgrowing with corruption. Overrun with gangs vying for power, in particular, the South Side Serpents and the Ghoulies, though the Serpents were the true kings, it was a bed of danger. Everyone on the South Side owed their allegiance to someone, and the very soul of the South Side was dripping in red and black. It was the side of Riverdale that people feared, that people despised and that they prayed would just be swept away. So no, the North and South sides of Riverdale didn't get along in any way, shape or form.
You'd be hard-pressed to find a Bulldog who wasn't itching to 'teach' a South Side Serpent a lesson, preferably with his fists or find a Serpent who wasn't willing to try out his brass knuckles in the same way. Even the adults couldn't get along. The Riverdale Register regularly villainised the South Side, prompting more than one brick to be thrown through the glass windows and threats to be sent to them. And for the most part, there was no mixing allowed in the schools. Bulldogs and River Vixens all went to Riverdale High School while the Serpents and Ghoulies ruled the halls of South Side High. That was until the Serpent Prince found himself with a scholarship to Riverdale High and had set foot in the sacred halls of the North Side's pride and joy. Not that the adults needed to worry, the students made sure that he didn't feel welcome there in any way, and he made sure not to let them get too close.
There was only one place in Riverdale that a Southsider and Northsider could mix. Only one place where the jacket you wear, the car or motorbike you drive, and the amount of money you own didn't matter. There was only one place where the Perfect Girl Next Door and the Serpent Prince could interact without too many eyes upon them, and where the label of Southsider and Northsider could be shed.
And that place was Pop's Chock' Lit Shoppe.'
The words flowed from Jughead's fingertips without much thought, filling up the small section that Betty had allocated for him to write in for the Blue & Gold. He'd grown used to the short spaces, mindless topics and the little coverage that the Northsider and their Principal would let him have, but any practice would help him when he started his novel. Jughead couldn't be bitter though, not when Betty had put her reputation on the line to help him. So instead, he kept writing, cursing himself every time the little black cursor flashed at him for too long.
As he wrote, the small mug of black coffee beside him found itself being refilled every time a waitress walked past his booth. One perk of being a Serpent on the North Side, Jughead guessed. People were too afraid of him to deny him anything, and he'd be damned if he didn't take advantage of that. Besides, no one brewed coffee just like Pop Tate did, and for that he'd gladly sit for hours under the neon lights, silently writing while he drank coffee. It wasn't like Pop Tate would kick him out after all; he was one of Pop's favourites, especially considering the sheer amount of food he could eat.
But his solitude and peace would not last.
Taking a long sip of his coffee, Jughead let the burning liquid scorch the back of his throat, delighting in the sensation before he glanced back over his notes, unsure of where to go next with his article. He was about to turn his attention back to the report, but the sound of the bell above the door once more distracted him. Well, it was more the girl walking through it that pulled him away from his work.
Betty Cooper had always been beautiful. There was no denying that. With her curled blonde ponytail, bright green eyes and soft, rosy lips, she should have had most of Riverdale High falling at her feet. Even now, Jughead found himself entranced by her, despite the thick black mascara trails down her cheek, the red eyes and the crumpled curls hanging lifelessly around her distraught face. Betty didn't have to be put together for him to admire her beauty. He couldn't help but stare at her nor stop the smile that pulled at his lips at the sight of the small snowflakes nestled in her hair. That smile quickly faded at the tears that started running down her cheeks when she finally slipped into her own booth, curled up with a vanilla hot chocolate in hand.
Jughead had no idea what possessed him to rise and to gather up his things. He certainly didn't understand, nor remember how his legs had started moving, forcing him to head straight for Betty's booth in the opposite corner of Pop's. He had no real explanation for why he wrapped an arm around her. All he knew was that he was soon beside Betty with his arm around her.
"Jughead?" Betty asked, sniffling slightly.
Jade green eyes stared up at the South Side Serpent, wide and fearful, unsure of what to make of her new companion. Betty was just as surprised as Jughead was at his sudden presence, but the sparkle of gratitude in her gaze was enough to keep him from fleeing. That, and the way that she subconsciously leant into his embrace, soaking up his warmth.
"Hey, Coop," Jughead said, smiling softly and watching her closely.
Her fingers trembled around the mug in her hands, so much so that Jughead gently prized it from her. Setting the cup of steaming hot liquid away from Betty and on the table, Jughead let her regain some control over her emotions. Sniffles followed his actions, and Jughead didn't have to look at her to know that she was still fighting back the tears. Pulling her closer, Jughead mumbled: "I'd ask, but I think that would make it worse."
"I thought you weren't supposed to care about Northsiders?" Betty asked, peering up at him and brushing away the mascara stains on her cheeks. She looked so delicate and fearful at that moment, but Jughead knew her too well to believe that she'd break in front of him. That didn't stop him from squeezing her shoulder gently though.
"Not an official rule." Jughead shrugged, rubbing circles into her left shoulder. Betty leaned further into his embrace, her head coming to rest on his shoulder and her eyes fluttered closed for a few moments before Jughead added: "Besides, I'm an older brother, I guess I have a protective nature, and if anyone made Jellybean cry -"
"Jellybean?" Betty asked, the hint of a smile on her lips, "Jellybean and Jughead?"
"It's better than the real thing, Coop, trust me," Jughead assured her, grinning softly, which, after a few moments, Betty returned, reaching up to clutch the hand on her shoulder. The Serpent almost jumped ten feet at the feeling of her still icy fingers against his skin. "Did you forget to bring a coat? You're freezing."
"I must have left it with Chuck," Betty mumbled, hastily pulling her hand away and grabbing her hot chocolate. She breathed in the strong scent of vanilla before taking a long drink from it, letting the hot liquid cascade through her, warming up her shivering body. All while Jughead stared at her transfixed.
Shaking himself back to reality, Jughead pulled his arm away, slightly smug at the soft whine that left Betty's lips at the loss of his warmth. He smiled softly at her, shrugging off the warm leather jacket he was wearing, the snake slithering down his back as he did. The second it had left his arms, Jughead draped the dark material over Betty's shoulders, helping her slip her arms into it before sitting back to admire the sight. The dark jacket dwarfed her; the arms were too long and had she stood up, the jacket would have brushed the top of her thighs. Jughead couldn't help but feel a pang of possessiveness and masculine appreciation at the sight of Betty Cooper in his jacket, and he desperately fought back the groan begging to escape his lips.
"Thank you, Juggie," Betty whispered, nuzzling back into his shoulder.
Jughead stopped. A slow, soft smile crawled its way onto his lips, and for a minute, he just stayed there, staring down at Betty and pulling her closer to his chest. Squeezing her shoulder once more, Jughead mumbled: "No problem, Betty."
For a long moment, they just stayed there, warming up together under the neon lights of Pop's. Betty moved her legs up to wrap her arms around her knees. Her head remained firmly tucked into Jughead's shoulder, and her eyes fluttered closed once more, her breathing softening. Jughead watched her relax further into him, rubbing small circles into her shoulder and squeezing it ever so slightly, reaffirming his presence beside her. In those few quiet moments, Jughead finally let himself mull over what Betty had said just before calling him Juggie.
Jughead's heart stopped.
Pulling away, the Serpent fixed Betty with his dark aquamarine gaze and with his voice ringing with alarm, asked: "Wait did you say, Chuck? As in Chuck Clayton?"
"Yes," Betty confessed quietly, not meeting his gaze.
"Oh, Betty, why him of all people?" Jughead sighed, his free hand coming to lift her head up again. His thumb ran over her chin gently, the rough calluses of his digits moving against the smooth, soft skin of Betty's face. Keeping her face tilted upwards, Jughead held her gaze, attempting to control his own, trying to leave them devoid of the growing anger and concern bubbling away inside of him.
"He was nice and thought maybe it would be different. It turns out I was wrong. Again." Betty mumbled, fighting the urge to look away, not that she was able to do that with Jughead's hand on her chin. She doubted she would have been able to even if he hadn't been holding onto her. There was something magnetic about his gaze that kept her staring up at him.
"It's not your fault that he's a fucking dick who thinks women are objects," Jughead assured her, moving closer to her once more and resuming the action of rubbing patterns into her shoulder.
Despite Jughead's actions, Betty's body remained stiff, and her chest rose up and down in a rapid motion. In her lap, her hands curled up into fists, her knuckles turning white. She shook beside him, her lips trembling and her eyes watering. Betty's cheeks flushed a rosy pink with anger and distress, and all Jughead could do was stare down at her and wait for her to find the courage to say what she wished to say. Jade eyes blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears threatening to spill before she finally admitted quietly: "He's going to tell everyone I did stuff with him, you know, sex stuff."
Clenching his jaw, Jughead stared down at her for a long moment before fuming: "To Hell with him. If he fucking tries, he'll have a bunch of Serpents to contend with, and they won't be gentle. Fuck, he will probably get a bruising anyway, and he certainly deserves it."
"Please don't set the Serpents on him, that will make things worse," Betty begged, her eyes wide and fearful.
"Worse? How?" Jughead asked, eyes narrowing and his head cocking to the side. Taking her in, he could see that the shaking had only increased. His eyes swept over her once more, only finding her unwilling to answer him. Sighing softly, Jughead lowered his voice and once more asked: "Betty, why would it make things worse? And what would that mean to you?"
Pearly white teeth came to worry Betty's lower lip before she said softly: "Since you joined the Blue & Gold most of the football team have been calling me… erm… Serpent… doesn't matter. Don't worry about it."
Shaking her head, Betty glanced away, turning away and grabbing her hot chocolate. Jughead sat there, unable to comprehend just what could shake Betty Cooper this much. If he had let his eyes flicker down to the steaming mug, Jughead would have noticed the small blood smears finding their way onto the white china, but his eyes were too focused on her face. Moving his hand to cup her cheek, Jughead asked: "Betty, what have they been calling you?" Once more, Betty's eyes drifted away from his, and Jughead felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. His mind flickered back to the phrase he'd heard far too many times, thrown about between the Bulldogs. Anger bubbled in his gut, and Jughead found himself asking: "Betty, are they calling you a Serpent Slut?"
"It doesn't matter", Betty said, shaking her head.
That was enough to confirm his suspicions.
Jughead's face flushed, burning with fury while his eyes darkened. Venom coursed through his veins and bile burned up his body at the mere thought of someone disrespecting Betty like that. He could scarcely stand the idea that anyone would treat a woman like that, but the fact that Betty was the one who had earned such a derogatory title all but destroyed him. It took all of Jughead's willpower not to storm out and find Chuck to teach him a lesson, preferably one involving brass knuckles. Matters were only made worse when Betty mumbled: "I'm fine, Jughead. It's okay."
"None of this is okay, Betty." Jughead snapped back.
"Can we talk about something else?" Betty asked, shrinking away, "please?"
"Fine." Jughead sighed, not too happy about it, however, after all, she'd suffered tonight, Jughead refused to hurt her further by pushing things further. It was almost worth it for the grateful smile he received. Glancing down, Jughead racked his brain, desperately trying to come up with something to say. Eventually, he settled on saying: "You're an enigma, Cooper, you know that right?"
"How so?" Betty asked, peering up at him and letting her shoulders relax.
"Well, I barely know anything about you", Jughead confessed, though it wasn't for lack of trying. He had tried to pry information out of her during Blue & Gold meetings, but Betty's drive to get the paper sorted often led them only discussing the articles they were working on, and that was it.
"I could say the same about you, Jughead Jones", Betty replied, smiling and looking him up and down, a curious gleam in her soft jade eyes. Taking one last look, Betty's eyes came back to his, and she asked: "What do you want to know?"
"How about we start off simple? And build up to our loaded questions?" Jughead suggested, shifting his body to get a better look at her. Betty sensed what he was doing and copied his actions, leaning against the frosted window and finally removing herself from Jughead's arm. On the soft red vinyl, a much smaller hand sought out a much larger one, and five fingers with pale pink nail polish threaded themselves with five longer ones, seeking the comfort of Jughead's physical presence.
"Sure." Betty nodded.
"Favourite colour?" Jughead asked.
"Purple, blue and green." Betty smiled. The 'anything but pastel pink' was heavily implied, and Jughead couldn't but grin at Betty's slight disregard of Alice Cooper's rules. He didn't ponder on it for long though as Betty asked: "Favourite author?"
"Truman Capote, without a shadow of a doubt." Jughead grinned, knowing full well there was a copy of In Cold Blood hiding in a secure pocket of his messenger bag. Shaking his head, Jughead turned back to Betty. "If you could leave Riverdale, where would you go?"
"Far, far away, maybe to Europe, perhaps Italy or Spain. Anywhere far away." Betty responded, without much thought. Her eyes glazed over briefly, but the daydream faded as quickly as it started. Grimacing at her reality, Betty shook herself and said: "Do you think you'll stay here in Riverdale?"
"Maybe - I kind of owe a debt to the Serpents, but I want to travel and go off to University, but I may just settle here. If the North Side doesn't choose to gentrify the South Side." Jughead shrugged, biting his lip. Racking his eyes over Betty, the perfect question sprung to mind, and before he even registered it, he was asking: "Have you ever been to the South Side?"
"No, I'm not allowed to. Forbidden was the word my mother used, just like I'm forbidden to talk to Serpents." Betty mumbled, not quite meeting Jughead's gaze and allowing a dark blush to creep up her cheeks. Jughead was hardly surprised by the rule, but that didn't stop the smug smirk that graced his lips at Betty's rule-breaking. The dark part of his mind, the one he tried not to listen to, wondered just how many rules she'd be willing to break. He didn't get to focus on that thought much when Betty asked: "Why did you join the Serpents?"
"Because I was angry, alone and I wanted a family. I now have a family, one that can't be torn apart by divorce or drinking. Besides, Dad runs the gang; I would have likely joined anyway to help him. I'd do anything for my family, and they'd do the same for me." Jughead confessed, unashamed. "Why are you breaking the rules and talking to me?"
"You don't treat me like a perfect girl who needs to be put on a pedestal or used only for answers in tests. You don't treat me like I'm made of china and besides, you've never hurt or lied to me. Half the North Side have." Betty grinned, "what's your real name?"
"Jughead Jones the Third, Cooper. You know that." Jughead said, unsure. There was a fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn't help but feel mildly apprehensive at the question.
"No, I saw your exchange papers when you joined the Blue & Gold briefly, and your first name begins with F. So go on Jones, tell me unless you're scared", Betty informed him, goading him into answering. Jughead knew in that instant that she wouldn't take no for an answer.
"You're sneaky, Cooper, and good at getting what you want." Jughead pointed out, sighing heavily and running a hand over his face. With a dejected look, he whispered: "Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third."
"Is that where FP comes from?" Betty pressed, her eyes alight with curiosity and her cheeks flushed with her attempts to bite back her laughter.
"Yes, and that's two questions in a row, Betty, don't be greedy", Jughead smirked a sense of pride roaring in his chest at the scarlet pulse that flashed through Betty's cheeks. Leaning in, he watched her instinctively lean back, almost afraid and asked: "Are you afraid of me and the Serpents?"
"No, not of you, but I don't know much about the Serpents, and I've seen some of the bruises that the Bulldogs end up with, so I'm a bit scared of them, I guess", Betty mumbled. Mild intimidation and outright fear weren't the same things, so she wasn't lying or at least that was what Jughead assumed the battle in her mind sounded like.
"Do you think I'll hurt you?" Jughead added.
"No. I trust you, Jughead Jones." Betty confessed, locking her gaze with his.
"Why?" Jughead questioned, disbelief echoing through his voice.
"Now, who's being greedy?" Betty asked, a teasing smile gracing her lips.
Had it been any other situation, Jughead would have responded with a smirk of his own, but his confusion left him only staring at her, waiting for his answer. Sensing the shift in Jughead's mood, Betty gulped and squeezed his fingers reflexively. The Serpent kept his dark gaze on her, not allowing her to look away until she finally spoke.
"Because you never start any of the fights you're involved in. You get dragged into things, and you win them, but you never start them. You never yell obscenities or derogatory comments at anyone. Because you gave me your jacket when I was freezing cold and came to make sure I was okay when we only really talked about stuff for the Blue & Gold. You treat me with respect although you barely know me and when I make an edit, you debate me on it and share your viewpoint. And because I've read what you write. I've seen you bare your soul on a piece of paper and yes, it frightens me sometimes, but you're honest, driven and you believe in something bigger than us all." Betty whispered, her voice diffident and fearful as if she knew that once the words had been spoken, they couldn't be taken back. Swallowing, she let her own eyes soften before adding: "And, behind the gang paraphernalia, you're a kind-hearted softie who wears the same beanie every day and who could eat all of the menu here and still be hungry. You're consistent, and I trust that."
Jughead froze. His heart pounded in his chest, desperate to leave his ribcage while his ears rang, and an unpermitted blush crept over his cheeks and nose. It took all his willpower not to look away from Betty and to bow his head in humility. Perhaps, he should have done that, but instead, he spoke, his tone matching hers. "Thanks, Betts, and for the record, I trust you too."
There was nothing on Earth that Jughead wouldn't have given to see that smile every day. Soft, tender and sweet, it crawled across Betty's lips. He'd never seen her smile quite like that, and Jughead couldn't help wonder whether Betty now had a smile reserved just for him. The thought left him breathless and blushing, transfixed by her and everything about her. The soft magnetism that had been flowing between them all evening suddenly strengthened, pulling them forever closer. Jughead's forehead brushed gently against Betty's, his black curls tickling her skin as he leant in.
Below him, Betty leant up, her soft lips inviting and open, guided towards their goal. Gentle exhales ran across their skin, teasing and tantalising as they grew ever closer together, nearing the one place their eyes had strayed to all evening. Centimetres become millimetres, and Jughead could just taste the vanilla and chocolate that Betty had sipped all evening. It was magical. It was magnetic. It was not meant to be.
A sudden shrill ding caught through their bubble, and both sprung back in alarm. Jughead cursed silently, glowering around for the source of the distraction only to find it in Betty's phone. The gentle smile and soft blush faded instantly into a tight-lipped frown and a blanched face. Guilt washed over Betty's beautiful features before she glanced up at him and mumbled: "I'm sorry, but I have to go."
He could see she didn't want to go.
He didn't want to let her go.
But it wasn't up to him.
Nodding slowly, Jughead backed out of the booth, his stiff legs grateful for the sudden burst of movement and rush of blood while his left hand complained at the sudden loss of warmth. He watched Betty's right hand grasp for his and miss, reflexively and instinctively craving the comfort that he offered. A comfort he couldn't provide her at home. Sending him one last sad look, Betty shuffled out of the booth, shedding the jacket and handing it to him.
"Thank you, Juggie", Betty mumbled, allowing her hand to rest on his for a fraction of a second before she turned towards the door, the usual spring in her step absent at the prospect of leaving. One last look was thrown over her shoulder before she headed past the other booths.
"Hey, Betts!" Jughead called, halting her by the door.
"Hmm?" Betty asked, turning back and smiling, her jade eyes sparking.
"You looked good in a Serpent jacket", Jughead informed her, grinning. A delicate blush spread across her cheeks at his words while her teeth teased her lower lip for a moment. With one last smile, Betty turned away and headed out into the winter night and back to her prison.
Collapsing into his seat, Jughead immediately craved the warmth of Betty's body beside him and pulled on his jacket, only to find himself enveloped by the sugary smell of her vanilla and lily body spray. Part of him cursed her for making him smell like he'd stepped out of a shopping catalogue, but he wouldn't have traded it for the world. Bringing the jacket closer to his body, Jughead sat there for a moment, bathing in the reality of the near kiss and the feeling of Betty's hand in his before he finally pulled out his laptop, begrudgingly returning to his work. Though, at least this time he had a reason to get the article in on time, he mused to himself before starting to type once more.
'There's always been something so sacred about Pop's. It's the one place in town where secrets can be shared, and trust can be earned. Honest conversations can be aired out over steaming mugs of hot chocolate and where the Serpent Prince can find himself comforting the Girl Next Door. Pop's is a magical place indeed and the perfect getaway for those lost souls looking for someone to listen to them or to wrap them up in a jacket bearing a double-headed snake.'