Fourteen

Usually rain this heavy would keep Sweet Pea from going out on his bike, but his mind was everywhere else as his motorcycle sped along the slick, winding road. His mind was racing, filled with fresh memories that also called back to some that weren't as recent. His friends, his decisions… Aurora Jones. "You know, if you were always so compliant, maybe we could have been… friends, or something." He snorted at the memory of her remark. "Me and you, friends? That could never happen." It was true. They could never be friends, though even he wasn't sure why not. He didn't know why he couldn't get her out of his head. He had completely avoided her for the better part of two months since the incident at the diner. He felt a little guilty for leaving her stranded, but maybe not as guilty as he should have felt. Yes, you do. However, he didn't want to apologize. You should have apologized the night of the cookout. He shook his subconscious out of his head and regained focus on the road, not wanting to remember the belated Fourth of July celebration that the Serpents hosted in Tent City. It was a bittersweet celebration, considering the sudden and unexpected passing of Fred Andrews a week prior. Fred Andrews. The funeral blurred together in his mind. The memories of the caring, helpful man that took the clan in when they had nowhere else to go. The omnipresent, uncomfortable ache of loss that seemed to never go away. He felt sick and stupid for the way he mourned a man that he barely knew, but unprecedented kindness without expecting something in return was scarce in his life. He thought of everyone who knew him better; he thought of Archie, of Jughead, of Betty, and of Rory. The way she cried at the funeral. He shook his head more forcefully, much more so that his bike swerved. "Fuck!" He did his best not to overcorrect and steadied himself once more. After a few more minutes of hyper-focused steering, he reached his destination.

The crunch of boots against damp gravel was the only distinguishable sound in dead air as he shifted from one foot to the other outside of the modest house. No, not house… home. This was home – well, it may as well have been home for Sweet Pea. He had spent a lot of his time here over the years; but now that Fangs was… gone, the time he spent here was brief and as few and far between as he could handle. If a Serpent is killed or imprisoned, their family will be taken care of, he repeated in his head. Or in this case… Missing. He flipped an envelope over in his hand to open it for the seventh time, thumbing through the bills to make sure it was all there. A hand patted him on the shoulder, startling him, and he immediately spun on his heel with his fist raised. Jughead?

"I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I thought you saw me pull up." Jughead raised his hands as he waited for Sweet Pea to release his shirt. Sweet Pea let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he bent down to pick up the envelope. He brushed the dirt from the outside, drops of water streaking across it as it soaked into the paper. He stood up a bit straighter than before and waved Jughead's apology off.

"How did you know I was here?"

"It's Thursday." Jughead stated easily with a shrug. Sweet Pea sighed, poking his tongue into his cheek, and shifted his gaze up into the trees. Despite everything that was going on, the easy sway of the branches lessened the tightness in his chest. Here it was calm, peaceful.

"Keeping tabs on me, Jones?" He grumbled in faux annoyance.

"Wouldn't you do the same?" Jughead challenged as he folded his arms and leaned back against his bike, sizing up the taller boy. Sweet Pea shrugged, mirroring his movements. He avoided Jughead's gaze. "I need to talk to you about a couple of things."

"It couldn't have waited? You couldn't have texted me?" Sweet Pea questioned. This was not the time for Serpent business; and since Jughead seemed to already know what he was doing here, he knew that. The teenage Serpent King simply shook his head, earning an eye roll from his right-hand man.

"Where'd you get all of that? Don't tell me it's all from working at the comic book shop." Jughead pressed, nodding toward the bulging envelope in Sweet Pea's grasp. Sweet Pea hastily tucked it into the pocket inside his jean vest, scoffing at his friend and avoiding his intense stare. He ignored his question as he pushed himself upright from his bike and swaggered toward the front door, knocking twice and waiting a brief moment before letting himself in. Jughead followed suit a few steps behind. Lena Fogarty greeted the pair with a bottle of hand sanitizer at the ready. Jughead was slightly taken aback but obliged, remembering the state of Mrs. Fogarty's health.

"So, you decided to come inside this time around to grace us with your presence," Lena poked, giving Sweet Pea a hardened frown before cracking a grin. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as they embraced. "You must be Jughead. I'm Lena." She extended her hand. Her handshake was firmer than he expected. Jughead made a barely audible squeak in the back of his throat at the greeting as she tightened her grip. Sweet Pea smirked as he watched on.

"Good to meet you. I'm sorry I didn't come in sooner. I hope you guys have been getting the groceries I've been dropping off." Jughead straightened with the release of his hand from her grasp. They engaged in small talk that Sweet Pea quickly tuned out. He left the pair to awkwardly converse as he made his way through the doorway to the small kitchen on the left of the entrance.

"What are you making?" Sweet Pea's voice boomed as he leaned against the doorframe. The small, fragile woman jumped, spinning to face him with a hand over her heart. Her startled features relaxed at the sight of him, but this didn't stop her from whacking him with a wooden spoon. He recoiled slightly, but laughter and joy filled his lungs as she shouted at him.

"Don't you know not to sneak up on the ill?" She huffed, smacking him once more on the arm for good measure. He chuckled in response and pulled her into his chest. She squeezed him tight and stepped back. She brought a hand to cup his cheek. "I didn't think I would lose both of you at once. I've missed you, my son." He softened and leaned into her palm. His chest constricted at the sight of her pained eyes.

"I'm sorry I disappeared, Marie." He rasped. Her face twisted slightly as she turned back toward the steamer basket. She stayed silent. His thoughts ran a mile a minute as he shifted his weight onto his other leg and rubbed the back of his neck. It was wrong for him to stay away, and it was not fair to her. She practically took on the role of the loving mother in his life.

"You and your friend are staying for dinner," She finally spoke after what felt like hours of silence. It wasn't a suggestion. Sweet Pea nodded eagerly in response. "Set the table."

Dinner started off a bit awkwardly as the Fogarty women practically interrogated Jughead to get to know him better. Jughead was surprisingly holding his own and definitely not as awkward as he used to be. He seemed to finally be stepping into what usually came with leadership: the ability to speak to anyone with confidence. "This is delicious, Mrs. Fogarty. What is it?" He asked with a grin.

"Jamaican curry goat bao. It's a recipe my husband and I came up with when we got married, like a way of fusing our cultures and lives together." She smiled wide, then it suddenly began to fade as she lingered on the memory of her deceased husband. Lena shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat, focusing her attention on Sweet Pea.

"So, Sweet Pea, still a delinquent?" Lena smirked as she shoveled a forkful of rice into her mouth. She said this specifically to push Sweet Pea's buttons since her brother was in the same gang as he was; she clearly paid this fact no mind.

"Lena." Mrs. Fogarty warned, half present in the conversation.

"Hey, Lena, how is that dishonorable discharge treating you?" Sweet Pea grinned, the devil in his eye, as he fired back playfully. Lena's brows shot up and she raised her glass to him before taking a sip and striking his shin with her foot under the table. Mrs. Fogarty snapped back to reality and her fork clattered as it hit her plate.

"Sweet Pea! Lena!" She barked, followed by something Jughead couldn't understand, but it was enough to make the pair shrink in their seats. Her attempt to not bring attention to her annoyance by speaking in a different tongue had the opposite effect she had desired. The rest of the meal was consumed with uncomfortable silence.

After dinner, Sweet Pea and Jughead said their goodbyes. Jughead exited the house while Sweet Pea hung back, pulling Mrs. Fogarty aside. He reached into the inside of his jean vest to retrieve the full envelope and handed it to her. She furrowed her brows as she went to open it. Her eyes widened. "What is this? I cannot keep taking money from you!"

"Just take it."

"Where did you get this?" She questioned frantically, trying to put the envelope back in his palm. He gently took hold of her hands and wrapped them around the envelope, pushing it toward her.

"Take it," His voice strained as he pleaded, his eyes soft. She opened her mouth to protest once more, but stopped when he gently squeezed her hands. "Please." She hesitantly nodded once after a long moment, then stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"Your bed is still here when you want it. Please don't be a stranger." She said softly. His mind wandered to the rollaway trundle bed that they would set up in Fangs' room whenever he would stay over before, which was more often than not. He thought of all the times they'd bullshit together; talking about girls, eventually boys, once Fangs was ready to share that part of himself, and listening to Earth, Wind & Fire vinyls and debating which record of their discography was the best. He wouldn't be able to go in that room anytime soon, not while Fangs was still… gone. It would hurt too much.

"I'll come to stay sometime soon." Sweet Pea forced a smile and nodded, lying through his teeth.

Jughead fiddled with a toothpick as he leaned against his bike. Sweet Pea walked down the driveway to meet him and they stood together in silence for a few moments before Sweet Pea cleared his throat. "So, are you going to get to the reason you're here in the first place, or what?"

Jughead sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Charles and Betty might have a lead on The Farm. They might have a lead on Fangs, specifically." He stated, carefully eyeing the taller boy for his reaction. Sweet Pea's jaw clenched and unclenched. He narrowed his eyes and examined Jughead's face to make sure he wasn't making some type of sick joke.

"How?"

"Kevin."

"Keller! I fucking knew it," Sweet Pea pushed off his bike and tugged at his hair, walking a few feet before turning back toward him. "Why aren't we telling this to his family?" Sweet Pea asked incredulously. He spun on his heel and made his way toward the front door. Jughead dropped his toothpick and quickly lunged to jump in front of Sweet Pea, trying to stop him by pushing his shoulders. Sweet Pea shoved him back and struggled to remove him from his path. "Get the fuck out of my way, Jones!"

"Sweet Pea!" Jughead hissed, pushing him back roughly and shushing him. "Do you really want to break their hearts all over again if this falls through or hits a dead end?" He tried to reason with him. Sweet Pea stopped struggling and turned to walk back toward his bike. He sunk to the ground and slumped forward, cradling his head in his hands.

"But what about me?" Sweet Pea rasped. He normally would have kept a brave face around Jughead, but he was so tired of pretending he was okay. Plus, there was no sense in hiding his feelings from Jughead if he already knew them nonetheless. Jughead sighed and walked over to sit down beside him. He clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.

"Not even Toni knows. I needed you to know at the very least. Charles and Betty might need you if it comes down to it, you know?" Jughead explained. Sweet Pea sniffed and nodded. They sat in comfortable silence as they gazed up at the sky. The clouds had cleared and the stars glimmered brightly against the darkness of the night. Being further away from a big city had its perks, and one of them was the lack of light pollution. After about fifteen minutes, not a word between them the whole time, Jughead spoke again. "One more thing we need to talk about…" Sweet Pea hummed, waiting for him to get on with it.

"I think Rory should join the Serpents."

"What, why? No." Sweet Pea scoffed.

"She pretends that she's alright but I hear her having nightmares when I'm up late writing every night. Even though the Black Hood is dead and gone, I know she doesn't feel safe. If I end up going to Stonewall Prep, I need her to have some sense of security since I'll be gone." Jughead tried to reason with him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Jones. She isn't one of us. She shrugs off the Serpent title every chance she gets. No." Sweet Pea protested.

"Listen, Sweet Pea, this is going to happen whether you like it or not. It would go a lot smoother if you were on board. I need her to agree to it as well and that won't happen if she feels like she's not welcome. Besides, she's had a rough go of it and doesn't have many people that she can rely on. Think of how our lives have changed simply from being a part of a family that always wants us." Jughead suggested firmly. Sweet Pea groaned and tugged at his hair. She was somehow infiltrating every aspect of his life and he was beginning to lose ways of escaping. "Are you disagreeing on behalf of the Serpents or on behalf of yourself?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Sweet Pea fired back defensively.

"I know that you kissed her." Jughead proclaimed. He wasn't asking, and he wasn't talking about the kiss during the game, the one in the Serpent HQ all those months ago. How did he know? How did he find out? He knew that Rory would never tell Jughead. Sweet Pea's stomach dropped and he faltered, but only slightly. Right… kissed. Images of tangled limbs, lips on neck, hands in hair, face between thighs. "That's all that happened, right?" No, that was not all that happened – not even close.

"Yes," Sweet Pea lied, maintaining eye contact as unsuspiciously he could muster. He could lie to cops with ease – surely it would be a walk in the park to lie to Jughead Jones. Jughead searched his face for a few lingering seconds before deciding that he was telling the truth. Sweet Pea bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smirking, satisfied by the rush of getting away with a forbidden lie. He regained his composure. "Nothing to worry about, Jones. We were drunk." He lied again. He was pressing his luck here, he knew it, but that first part wasn't a lie. There was nothing to worry about. Up until the funeral and cookout a couple of weeks prior, he hadn't had any contact with her in months. Their days of hate-sex were over, weren't they?