The long wait is terrible and I hate to do it to you guys, but alas, my writing (unfortunately) comes after my job. But! I happily bring you a much longer chapter this time. Enjoy!

In the morning, Archie didn't wake from his dad leaving or even the sun coming through the windows. He woke to the smell of bacon frying. Bleary-eyed, he sat up and blinked rapidly.

"Good morning, Archie," Betty greeted him from the kitchen.

"Morning," he mumbled as he staggered to his feet. "When did you get here?"

"About a half hour ago," Betty said. "You two looked so tired, I decided not to wake you."

Archie nodded. "It was a rough night," he confessed.

"I gathered that." She added more bacon to the pan.

"What're you doing?"

"Making breakfast?"

Her confused expression made Archie realize the stupidity of his question.

"Archie, why don't you go take a shower while I finish making breakfast? I think we should let Jughead sleep for as long as possible."

Archie just nodded and headed up the stairs, his brain too addled to respond.

When Archie returned, Betty had moved breakfast to the coffee table by the couch. Jughead, sitting up on his makeshift bed, was chatting with Betty and actually looked happy.

Archie sat on the floor by the table, unable to think of anything to say.

"Well good morning to you too," Jughead grumbled good-naturedly. "Sleep well? Me either. Have some bacon, Betty made it. I've never had better bacon. I didn't' even know you had some in the fridge. Did you?"

Archie raised an eyebrow at Betty. "No, I didn't," he said slowly.

Jughead rolled his eyes. "What did I tell you?" he said in an aside to Betty.

"To be fair, you did overdo it a little," Betty returned.

Archie remained silent, wide eyes betraying his confusion.

"Archie, I'm fine," Jughead assured his friend. "Sore, and a bit broken here and there, but I'm fine."

"But last night—"

"Last night I had just gotten the crap beaten out of me," Jughead pointed out. "Of course I looked half-dead."

"So you're ok then?"

"That would be a 'no'," Jughead answered before taking another piece of bacon. He held it in the air like a professor might hold a pencil during a lecture. "I'm alive and fine as long as you don't make me laugh. Then it feels like I might suffocate. My ribs, at least one of them, is probably broken, and I think we all know I have a few other minor injuries. So I'm not ok, but I'm fine. Just, maybe don't make me move yet."

"Juggie, if your ribs are broken don't you think you should go to a doctor?" Betty asked hesitantly.

"Not really. They just tell you to rest and wrap."

"And you know this how?"

Archie raised a hand guiltily. "I fell out of the tree house when I was little and broke a rib. That's exactly what they told me."

Jughead turned to face Betty. "Look, Bets, I appreciate your concern, I really do. And it was really nice to have you here last night when things took a turn for the worse. But you have to believe me when I say I'm fine."

"I believe you," she nearly whispered in that soft innocent voice of hers. "But I'm still worried about you."

Jughead took a bite of bacon. "Fair enough," he conceded. "I fancy I'd feel the same if our roles in this situation were reversed."

"Wow," Archie marveled. Then, "No, sorry, I wasn't even listening. I just realized that Jughead is right. Betty, you are good at making bacon."

Betty laughed uncomfortably. "Um, thank you?"

"You're welcome to come cook breakfast any time," Archie offered. "My dad and I try our best, but it never ends up like this."

"That's your own fault for the two of you being bachelors," Jughead needled. "You cook like bachelors and eat like bachelors."

"Oh, because you can talk? Before me or your foster family you were eating who-knows-what and living on your own," Archie shot back.

Jughead grinned. "Why do you think I spent so much time at Pop's?"

Betty sighed. "When you two are done figuring out who's more uncivilized, let me know. I'd like to get to the bottom of this."

"Bottom of what?" Archie asked.

"Betty, no," Jughead objected, shaking his head. "This is something you need to leave alone."

"Jug, gang members beat you," Betty insisted. "They should pay for what they did."

"And they will when the Serpents find out," he assured her. "Please, Betty, don't make this your new crusade. Let's just focus on finding your brother." Betty opened her mouth to respond, but Jughead interrupted. "We can argue about this later. Right now I'm tired and sore and not up for combat of any kind."

"Not even Scrabble?" Betty coaxed as she gathered their breakfast dishes.

Archie saw the eager look in Jughead's eyes. "Oh no," he groaned. "Guys, please, can't we do something I at least have a chance at?"

"You have a chance," Betty called from the kitchen.

"No, I don't. Not with a news reporter and the school's biggest nerd."

"Coolest," Jughead corrected absentmindedly. "Coolest nerd. Humor the cripple and at least try to play."

Archie sighed but stood. "Alright. Betty, where'd you stash the game?"

"By the front door."

"I assume you put our hidden key back?"

"Yes. Hurry up and set up the game, Arch. I'm almost done with the dishes."

Archie rolled his eyes. "How do I get into messes like this?"

"You have the news reporter and the coolest nerd as friends," Jughead answered easily. "It's your own fault, dude."

Archie set the box on the coffee table and opened it. He stared blankly at the contents. "I don't even know how to set this up anymore."

"You're incredibly uncultured, Archie," Jughead complained. He bit back a groan of pain as he began to set up the game.

"Juggie, no, sit back," Betty worried, swooping in from the kitchen.

"Betty, I'm fine, really."

"Except you're not. Yesterday you couldn't even walk, and you probably have broken ribs. Please just sit back and let us help."

"You know you can't win this one, right?" Archie asked. "Your best move is to let her car for you a bit, especially since you kind of need it."

Jughead sighed and rebelliously rolled his eyes but ultimately sat back and let Betty take over.

About an hour later, Archie said, "That's not even a word" for the fifth time.

"Yes, it is, Archie," Jughead said in the tone he might use for a kindergartener. "You say that about almost every word I put down."

"I was right."

"Once," Jughead conceded. "Only once did I try to pull a fast one on you guys and use something that wasn't a real word." He tossed the dictionary to Archie. "Look it up if you don't believe me. It's a word I'd use for Betty."

"Aww, Jughead," Betty crooned.

He flashed her a rare smile.

Archie frowned. "It doesn't look like a nice word to use for your girlfriend," he grumbled as he thumbed through the dictionary.

"Pulchritudinous," Jughead said. "Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous—all good words for Betty."

Archie gave up and dropped the dictionary on the table. No way Jughead made up some word that strange, had a definition for it, and Betty recognized it. She wouldn't let Jughead get away with that, not with her competitive streak. "Fine, so it's a word." He put down an "s" to make "canine" plural. "Betty, your turn."