It was cold, late September came fast and as the brisk wind hit her legs and blew up her blue pleated cheerleading skirt, her body practically begged for a hot chocolate.

Betty Cooper could admit, she had always been one for dramatics. But at seventeen, wasn't everybody? The football game was drawing to a close and her shivers were enough to show just how defeated the whole school felt. The season was going so fast and the Riverdale Bulldogs record was not a pretty one. They had lost almost every game, but they always defended their state rank with their intense school spirit. She tried to sway her mind from the cold overwhelming her. But all she got was a reminder of the college applications stacking in her inbox and just how unprepared to was for the real world.

It didn't help that they were playing their arch rival, the Greendale Gators. Gator pride had seemingly thrown up on the town over the last week. With the threat of the big game, Betty thought she might hurl herself if she saw one more speck of Gator Green.

She could hear the hoots and hollers from the crowd behind her and Betty couldn't help but pull her long white sleeves to her palms and rub her hands together, glancing to the stands. The field lights were blinding, their fluorescent quality adding absolutely no heat to the surrounding environment. She thought she could see her breath. In that moment, she regretted her decision to join the cheerleading team. She brought her fingers to her mouth to increase some warmth and almost instantly got a hiss from Miss Queen Bee captain, Cheryl Blossom.

"Pssst, Betty! Hands down!"

Betty rolled her eyes and sighed, dropping her hands. Did anyone actually know the harsh reality of being a cheerleader in forty degree fall weather? A strict rule from the Bombshell herself.

4. No cheerleader may move or speak (unless spoken to from upper hierarchy) during any game or event, unless instructed otherwise or during the halftime break.

Betty recited her squad syllabus in her head, or cheer bible as the girls called it. It was a book of rules to live by and by God did she rebel against them any chance she got.

Suddenly a large buzzer nearly vibrated the ground at her feet, signaling the final score of the game. Betty had been too focused on the numbness of her fingers to realize that the clock had run out. They lost, of course, feeling defeat once again. They performed their final cheer anyway, with a semi lack of pep and extra rout. Betty tightened the pony adorned on top of her head and quickly snatched the bow away in the process, she hated the damn thing with a passion. She quickly jumped into her cheer warmups, in an attempt to secure any heat to her body.

"Are you going to Jobeys party?" A too perky Josie McCoy spoke suddenly. Betty nearly jumped backwards, the question startling her still mandatory still and quiet state.

"Um… I think so, but I'm gonna have to sneak out first."

"Your still grounded?" Josie asked, securing her blue and yellow duffle to her shoulder. Betty stuffed her pom-poms into hers, grabbing her phone from an inside pocket before zipping it quickly. Josie and Betty had been best friends since they were kids.

"Two more weeks…" Betty explained. "Mom's sticking to it pretty good this time."

"You're an idiot from getting caught though, you did it to yourself."

"Blah blah, the details of my disobedience aren't important."

"You didn't need to jump that fence; you know you only did it to prove a point."

"The point is my brothers a snitch and I should have seen it coming. This conversation is over." Betty laughed and starting walking down the track with Josie.

"Do you think Chic's gonna be there tonight?" Josie suddenly asked and Betty shrugged.

"Probably. My loser brother and his friends have nothing better to do then go to high school parties I guess."

"I don't think anyone cares, he's hot!"

"Josie!"

"What?" Josie laughed. "It's true! I would never, but he is nice to look at."

"Oh my God…" Betty muttered quietly.

"Do you want me to pick you up?"

"I'll text you." Betty said quickly. "Is Jess going?"

"Is that even a question? She's probably already there macking on Jobey before the crowds barrel in."

"Crowds?"

"Of course. You know he always has the best parties. His parents are literally never home, not like they'd care anyway. But his house is insane, and he's got a fake. Big house and free booze, that's all anyone needs to hear and their just well, there."

Josie was right. Michael Jobe, or Jobey as everyone knew him as. He was the towns senior of the century and seemingly had a huge ragger every weekend. The typical jock was cocky and honestly an asshole, but the free booze sealed the deal and had him sleeping with almost every girl in the senior class. Betty had never been lucky enough to grace the glorious presence of the Master Jobey himself, but she had wiggled her way into a couple of his parties and if tonight's was anything like the previous, she knew she'd be an idiot for missing it.

Josie opened her trunk, her light gray modern model being way too predictable for a northside teen. She threw her duffle into her car while they laughed over some inside joke and giggled at something stupidly funny.

"Do you want a ride home?" Josie prompted.

"I think I'm gonna walk, actually."

"Betty it's past ten, and dark, and cold! Let me drive you."

"It's okay Jos," Betty tried to console her.

"I saw you shivering during the fourth, Betty c'mon."

"I'm okay now that I have actual clothes on." Betty said with the roll of her eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Jos."

"Okay, text me if you need a ride to Jobey's. I'm headed home to change and then I'll be on my way there." Josie muttered, getting into her car. Betty smiled and nodded securing her bag to her shoulder as she began her walk.

Chic Cooper, twenty and a disappointment at best. Betty loved her brother because she had too. The man? Boy? Being… had barely finished high school and still found it necessary to hang around high school parties. He always stank of old leather and cheap cigarettes and always came home late with no explanation and no plan to come up with one. He slept with lots of women? Girls? Beings… It was no secret that her problematic sibling was promiscuous and a trouble maker, understandable with his upbringing.

It wasn't a long stroll. A couple of blocks at most and honestly it gave her alone time that from time to time she desperately needed. She had lived at Sunnyside Trailer Park her entire life, well since she was 4, but close enough. A two-bedroom trailer combined with a family of four, cramped and smothered didn't even begin to cover how she felt occasionally. She waved to Josie who exited the parking lot of the field with a honk and contemplated calling her sister.

Polly, her sister, had been lucky enough to get into NYU, full scholarship. Single parent household plus a four-point two grade point average equaled big charity money. She had always been destined to make it out of the southside and wanting more than their mother could ever give them, gave Polly a drive and a fire that no one could've put out. When she started applying for every scholarship imaginable, Betty thought she was crazy. But when she started to actually receive said scholarships and awards, the money payoff had Betty realizing just how smart her sister actually was.

Now twenty and a sophomore at NYU, Polly rarely came home unless for Christmas or Thanksgiving and even then, it was like pulling teeth. And while Betty did miss her sister, she knew coming back to Riverdale, even if just for a holiday break, the town might just swallow up her overachieving sister. It was best that Polly didn't come home often, it was what she needed and frankly, their mother needed it too.

Alice Cooper had always relied on the responsible big sister and nearly had a mental breakdown when Polly left for college. She depended on her much more than she realized, whether it be grocery store runs when Alice had to work double shifts or getting Betty back and forth from cheerleading practice and school. Polly matured fast, understandably so, but never okay. She hated to think of it as rebellion because who didn't want more than what their parents gave them, or parent in their case.

Alice Cooper had married her high school sweetheart, denying every statistic that your first love can't be your last. They had the kind of young love story that everyone envied and dreamed about. When she fell pregnant shortly after they tied the knot, Hal and Alice were ecstatic when they found it out to be twins. And even more when they learned it was a girl and boy. Polly and Chic had been three when Alice gave birth to Betty, a little girl that was seemingly wrapped around her daddy's little finger. But that all came crashing down right after Betty turned four.

Hal Cooper tragically died in a car crash, leaving a widowed Alice to raise seven-year-old twins and a four-year-old who only ever wanted her father. The comprehension was the hardest part of it all. Alice didn't know how to justify her husband's death to herself let alone her children. They were living in Pennsylvania at the time. Hal was running his late parent's town newspaper shop, Alice helping out when she could, but it was no secret that Hal was the bread winner of the family. They had barely any family, a few cousins and aunts and uncles but all from the Coopers side. Alice knew she couldn't support her family without help, so when her father reached out and said she could move back to New York she jumped at the chance.

Pappy Smith grew into their lives like he'd never left, never approving of Hal but never denying his grandchildren. He held stake in the Serpents and they never denied helping out their own. Their lives shifted so quickly it was like nothing had even changed. And yet everything had. The Serpents offered Alice a trailer and a job at the local hospital, the kids started school and when it shut down when Betty was in fourth grade no one dared to bat an eye at erasing of the seemingly drawn line between the north and south sides.

"Hey, Goo." A motorbike on the street slowed next to Betty.

Goo.

Short for Magoo- and a childhood pet name that she'd utterly grown to hate. But when your bald until the age of three and constantly scrunch up your lips into your nose and eyebrows, cartoon character nicknames are what you get, and boy did it stick in Betty's case. It was cute when she was little, but now she outright despised it. The words were like venom from Jughead Jones' mouth and Betty rolled her eyes instantly realizing his identity by his tone.

Jughead Jones. An enigma if one existed in her life. She'd known him since forever, her brothers' best friend since adolescences. They grew up in the trailer park together. Also, twenty and basically Chic's brother, Jughead Jones held such a mysterious and ominous quality that Betty had yet to dissect in all of her years of knowing him.

"Need a ride?" He muttered and she stopped.

"Not from you." She dug at him.

"Come on, I can't leave you out here. Your brother would kill me…"

"Well then don't tell him." Betty shrugged and began walking again.

"Goo, c'mon." He started walking with his bike. "Let me take you home."

"I am not getting on that death trap."

Jughead and Chic were well adverse in the motorbike world a seemingly cliché choice of vehicle for their not so secret life as gang members. They basic fell into the Southside Serpents ranks by birth. Jugheads father, FP Jones, had run the Serpents aside her grandfather since Betty could remember and while Jughead and his father's relationship was rocky at best, in Riverdale you can't deny your destiny. That's why she's so glad Polly got out when she did. Would she be so lucky? She didn't know. She did well in school, but not four-point two grade point average good. She tried her best, but with her mother's absence and Betty's strive for attention, she was notorious for getting herself into trouble from time to time.

"Betty," Jughead seethed.

"It's just a few more blocks, I'm fine Jughead." She tried to explain.

"Just get on the damn bike," He turned the corner of the street and blocked the crosswalk. Betty gasped at the sudden move and nearly jumped backward. "Please." He finished semi sweetly. She couldn't help herself, so she gave in and hopped on. He handed her his helmet and instructed her to put her bag in between her front and his back. Motorcycles were so complicated, why would anyone choose this over a car? Betty thought, while Jughead flicked at gears and revved the engine underneath them. She giggled into his back at the showboatness of it all and thought about the pros to motorcycles.

Gas prices, the experience, speed maybe? She didn't exactly know.

She used anything to drift her mind from the feeling of her arms around his waist. She'd never admit it, but Betty had had a crush on Jughead since they were kids. Puppy love, she always told herself. But she still had yet to grow out of the canine comparison stage, and being on a bike with him, with her cheek nearly against his back, made it all the more real.

Odd, older, and off limits… three words Betty had always associated with Jughead. She never wanted to fall into the Hollywood cliché of "my brothers' best friend." But she could never help it. He never failed to erupt the butterflies in her belly with even the slightest touch of sweetness. He loved to write, this she knew, and only a secret they shared. She'd caught him one night, up late and typing away on a keyboard. He was working on a novel of some sort, and after a lot of poking and prodding as annoying little sisters do, Betty's trip to the kitchen for a late-night glass of water, turned into Jughead telling her about his hopes and dreams of getting published one day. He didn't let her read anything, promising that for another day. But another day never seemed to come, but boy did she wish it had. She found herself up and thinking about his writing for many nights following that. But she'd never told his secret to anyone, it simply wasn't hers to share. He was impossible to her, both literally and figuratively. They never spent any time alone, not for any certain reason she guessed, but it was a lie. After all, Jughead was still her brother's best friend and she couldn't help but think that he never saw her more than a little sister…

They drove a few blocks, as promised, and Jughead was quick to drop her off at her trailer, killing the engine. "Thanks," she huffed, handing him back his helmet, not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

"Yep,"

"Can you try maybe not being an ass?" She hissed, securing her bag to her shoulder.

"Ouch." He half-mockingly held a hand to his chest. "You going to Jobey's?" She didn't answer. "You sneaking out?"

"No," She lied.

"Liar." He read her and she laughed with a scoff. He flipped the bike back on and clasped the helmet to his head. "See you there." He nodded before driving off and Betty grunted audibly looking to the stars. The man was impossible.

The party was not disappointing in the slightest. Betty held a red solo cup in her left hand and glanced to the fresh gashes in her ankle. She'd tripped and caught it in a nice sharp thorn bush when she crawled and tumbled from the bathroom window. She'd hoped her mom would've been asleep when she got home so it wouldn't have resulted in her maneuvering her way around the vent of the bathroom ceiling, but that wasn't the case. Alice Cooper was very much awake and nearly scolded Betty for accepting a ride home from Jughead and his motorcycle.

"You know how much I'm on your brother for driving one of those. They're dangerous Elizabeth! You need to be more responsible!"

Betty recalled the lecture from her mother, shrugging her off and telling her she was doing homework before she locked her bedroom door. Josie picked her up as promised and they drove under streetlight hues and brisk winds to Jobey's.

"Hi." A tall brunette in the opposing teams school colors stepped in front of Betty and she nearly choked on her drink.

"Hi." She jumped back and smiled softly. She took another sip from the cup in her hand and could spy her brother just past the stranger's figure, in the corner wrapped up in a bunch of Greendale's cheerleaders. "What's your name stranger?" She thumbed the color of his varsity jacket and met his hazel eyes. She knew she had eyes on her, she always had eyes on her, and her brothers' minions were sure to be rats. She was walking on thin ice and as much as she hated to admit it, she was a lightweight. After just one cup of flat keg beer and couple shots she'd took with Josie, Betty was just a tab bit buzzed.

"You first beautiful," He nudged.

"Betty." She slurred slightly. "Betty Cooper."

"I'm Trevor, Trevor King."

"You go to Greendale?" Betty hummed and Trevor chuckled.

"What gave it away?" His eyes grazed her fingers and forearm now against his chest. "Why haven't we met before?"

"I'm a senior at Riverdale High, I don't get out much." Betty shrugged and leaned a little more into his tall figure. "You play football." Betty gestured into his jacket.

"Wrestling." She nodded in understanding and looked once more over his shoulder and noticed that Chic and the cheerleaders weren't there anymore. She jumped suddenly, looking around for her infamous brother and his biker jacket.

"You wanna get out of here?" She asked suddenly.

"Umm…" He was slightly taken back. She quickly understood how she sounded and defended her words.

"It's loud in here, we should find somewhere quiet- to talk."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She whispered.

"Let's go?" He smiled.

"Now." She nodded. Betty linked an arm around his elbow, and they looked for any door of the unfamiliar house. They started to walk, and Betty quickly felt a hard hand on her arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" A voice sounded too familiar and strong behind her. Betty turned to find Jughead.

"I'm leaving." Betty spat back. Her brothers' best friend was always butting into things that had nothing to do with him. "With Trevor." She secured her arm tighter against the stranger's side.

"Like hell you are." Jughead nearly laughed at her over the volumes of the house. "Chic would kill me if I let you leave with some guy."

"Well it's a good thing Chic isn't here now isn't it?" She muttered. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation in the night and Betty wondered briefly if she should be worried about her brother being a murderer. There was no way, Chic wasn't cunning enough to kill somebody and get away with it.

"Who are you?" Trevor interrupted.

"My brothers' friend," Betty explained for him. "Who was just leaving." She turned back to Jughead who scoffed.

"Are we going?" Trevor simpered, leaning into Betty's ear. Jughead grew sick at the sight and wanted to throw him off of her.

"Yes." Betty turned and Jughead grabbed at her again.

"No." He snapped sternly.

"Jughead let me go!"

"You're not going anywhere, Goo."

"Goo?" Trevor interrupted, confused. "Okay I don't have time to deal with some jealous brotherhood shit, I'm out of here." He unlinked his arm and walked away from Betty, who could do nothing but sigh with aggravation.

"Why did you do that?" She spat angrily back at Jughead.

"What? Not let you leave with that Greendale bimbo?" He questioned. "Trust me, I did you a favor." He leaned into her small frame, hand on her sweater covered wrist. "You're welcome." Jughead whispered against her ear.

Betty didn't want to admit it, but his voice made her shiver. She looked around the room for anyone that could get her away from Jughead. Who at this point, still had a hand on her wrist, and was making the butterflies in her belly rumble again and think things Betty knew she shouldn't. Jughead seemed to read her thoughts because in the exact moment his grasp left her arm. She could confess, she knew she was using Trevor as a distraction. She needed someone, anyone, to defeat the odds of her brain and break the barriers that she had unconsciously set in her mind.

She was seventeen and never been kissed. Granted her brother made it impossible for any guys to even take an interest in her, Jughead seeing that through a couple of times. It was embarrassing and she wouldn't lie, it honestly mortified her. She had never been one for flings, wanting all of her firsts to mean something. But it was getting to the point where she just wanted to experience something, the context didn't matter so much anymore.

There was one time when Betty was fourteen, she had snuck out of class to meet a boy. Reggie Mantle, one of the cutest boys in the ninth grade. Looking back now Betty knew it was a mistake. But Chic, being who he was, with his power, none of Betty's steps went uncharted. He caught her behind the bleachers before she had the chance to even say hello to Reggie and he had kept close tabs on her ever since. Reggie ended up with a fat lip and Betty with mortified and embarrassed red cheeks. He didn't want her hurt by some stupid young boy with raging hormones and a poor self-complex. She could thank him for that now, but her nagging hormones had her thinking up some sticky situations as the days passed and she only got older.

Just as quickly as Jughead's hand left her wrist sirens echoed and blue and red hues bounced off the walls of the room they were in.

"Shit." Betty heard Jughead mutter. "Cops." Betty froze, cops didn't come to Jobey's parties. In fact, there was a conspiracy that he and the cops had a deal not to bust him. She didn't know what to do, should she run? Her feet felt like rocks against the floor and she looked around at people starting to scatter out of the house and through the yard. She was overwhelmed and her breath felt hitched in her throat. What the hell? She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until Jughead grabbed her wrist again. "Come on," he nearly yelled over the crowd and yanked on her softly. Betty stumbled after him and only semi instinctively grabbing onto his leather clad elbow. They swerved through the crowd and she took every opportunity to lean into him. His hand slinked into hers when she started to snag as they reached the door.

She had dreamt of this moment. His fingers lacing through hers almost didn't feel real all while feeling so normal. She didn't know how to explain it and honestly didn't want to.

It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything.

She kept telling herself, it doesn't mean anything. Their pace quickened when they reached the yard. The sirens got louder and the lights brighter, the cops were close. Jughead lead them around the house and into the side of the yard they reached a fence and Jughead crouched suddenly, pulling Betty down with him. A cop passed the end of the alley and Betty suddenly wondered how his reflexes were so quick.

It didn't last too long, the quick moments of him pushing and pulling her along were beginning to catch up with them. Her small intake of alcohol was just enough to make her nearly hurl on the spot. She clutched his arm with a grip to steady him from moving any further. Jughead looked to her hand and the pressure and noticed her holding her other arm over her stomach with her head nearly between her knees.

"Shit." He muttered. Betty dry heaved but luckily nothing came up but the embarrassment on her face. He rubbed gently at her back and they stood up slowly. She caught her breath and the sirens and lights seemed to fade away from them. He glanced to their feet and noticed the tinge of red that had begun to spread across the cuff of Betty's ankle.

"That looks bad." He nudged his chin at her foot. Betty shifted so she could see her jeans in the faint streetlight.

"Shit. It's bleeding again." Betty shook her foot, seemingly thinking it would do something.

"What happened?"

"I kinda fell I guess, cut it up." She shrugged and looked at it again. "Rolled it too, but I can't really feel it."

"Jesus, how much did you drink?"

"Only like 3 beers…maybe a few shots too."

"So, you did sneak out..." Jughead interrupted her.

"Well yeah… I thought that was pretty obvious." She said back.

"Where did you plan on staying tonight?" He asked as they began walking again.

"Josie's." Betty began to look around for any sign of life beside the two of them walking down some random alley before she began to speak again. "My mom's working the redeye shift at the hospital, she'll be long gone before sunrise. Won't even know I'm gone." She shrugged.

"It's almost scary how good you are at sneaking around." Jughead told her, knowing about a few too many of her late-night adventures.

"It's a gift." Betty muttered coyly with a shy smile. She looked around again, but she didn't recognize where they were. She'd lost Josie easily in the crowd that dispersed from the party. She stopped walking long enough to fish her phone from her pocket. "Shit." She hissed and stopped again.

"What is it?" Jughead looked to her.

"My phones dead. Perfect." She sighed. Her hands crashed to her sides in defeat, she was frustrated, and her ankle was starting to hurt, bad enough for her to realize, and she had no idea where she was. "Where even are we?"

"My bikes right around the corner," Jughead pointed to the end of alley and leaned into her. She caught a slight whiff of his leather jacket and she felt as though her face had to have gone green. She suddenly got lightheaded and stumbled slightly. "Woah their tiger." Jughead caught her and secured her to his side. "Are you gonna be sick?" Jughead asked. Seeing her face go pale and her body nearly go limp against his side. She said nothing but nodded solemnly, just as quickly as she turned and hurled into the grass. She spit and pushed away from Jughead, hating that he was watching her puke up her mistakes. She couldn't think of anything worse in the moment.

Her rubbed her back anyway as she swatted at his legs. He wiped her hand against her mouth and stood up slowly. His hand didn't leave her back and she closed her eyes at the rush of pink that must have returned to her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she couldn't help but mumble an apology.

"Come on," He nudged for them to keep walking.

"Where are we going?"

"I'll take you to my place,"

"No, no I have to go to Josie's…" She stuttered.

"Betty your wasted, and sick, and limping…" He pointed out. She didn't even know she'd been leaning on him. It hurt more than she remembered, but then again that was probably the alcohol wearing off. "My dad's not home, he's God knows where, but he's not home." Jughead said quickly.

"Jug," Betty weaned.

"We'll get you cleaned up, I'll patch up that ankle, you can sleep it off…"

"You can't tell Chic about this, he'll freak."

"You think I don't know that?" Jughead said with a half-laugh.

"Jughead, you have to promise me you won't tell him." Betty plead, sounding almost hysterical. Working herself up because she knew her brother, and she knew he wouldn't be pleased if he found out.

"Cross my heart." Jughead mimicked and used a finger to draw an 'X' on the right side of his chest.

"It's over here genius." Betty grabbed his hand and moved his finger to the left.

"I knew that…" He laughed her off, making another cross shape. "See, you're not that drunk." They both laughed at that and finished the stride to Jughead's bike

Jughead let them into his trailer, at the other end of the park from hers. There wasn't a soul in sight but that didn't stop Betty from looking paranoid. He clattered his keys on the counter muttering to her.

"Take a seat," he ushered to the couch against the wall. "I'm gonna grab the first aid kit."

Betty did as she was told and took a seat on the slightly worn sofa. She was sobering up already and her ankle hurt a lot more than she originally thought. She could hobble, so she knew it probably wasn't broken, but sprained none the less. She glanced around the room. It was uncanny how similar their trailers were. Hers just had another bedroom connected to it. Her hands balled into her lap as she played with her fingers, trying to distract herself. She'd been there before, just never without Chic. Sure, she'd known Jughead for what seemed like her whole life, but she'd never been alone with him… until now. She was careful not to, the nervousness at just the thought didn't seem worth it to her.

Get ahold of yourself. She thought. You literally just almost vomited onto his shoes you fool. "Got it." Jughead spoke suddenly. He held up a red case that broke through the soft dark light of the single lap that illuminated the shell of a room. He crouched down in front of the sofa and glanced up at her. Betty's stomach did a somersault when their eyes met, and she almost swore you could she her swallow the lump in her throat.

This was a bad idea.

He started to inspect her ankle and she hissed through her teeth when he pulled the jean material from the cut. The blood had dried them to her skin, which only intensified the pain.

"Sorry." He muttered. "Shit, it's too dark in here. Let's go in the kitchen, there's better light, I can get a better look."

"Okay doc." Betty said sarcastically.

"What can I say?" Jughead started, standing. "I'm a man of many talents." Betty chuckled and attempted to push up from the couch. "Come on," Jughead grunted, securing an arm around her side to help her stand. She wasn't that enabled, but she wasn't about to deny the help from him or his hands on her sides.

Betty hobbled into the kitchen an sank into one of the chairs. Jughead cracked open the first aid kit on the table and bent down to her foot again.

"Betty this doesn't look good…" he spoke softly, holding her foot. "It's swollen," he tilted it against the light. "And all cut up- Does this hurt?" He moved it to one side. Betty shook her head softly. "What if I do this?" Jughead pushed it towards her and she winced slightly.

"A little."

Jughead nodded and brought her ankle back towards him. "I think it's just a sprain. I'll clean up these cuts and wrap your ankle, we can ice it and elevate it while you sleep."

"How do you know all of this?" Betty said almost awestruck.

"What?" Jughead chuckled softly.

"This." Betty ushered toward her foot and the first aid kit. "How do you know what to do?"

He almost seemed to snicker into his chest and shook his head. "You don't wanna know, Goo."

"I do." She spoke meekly. Jughead stood slowly glancing to meet her eyes.

"Well… too bad." He said slowly, beginning to walk away again. She huffed into her chair and he seemingly pointed a finger back at her. "Stay put." He practically demanded. That brought a smirk to her face because she knew there was one on his.

He went to the bathroom and grabbed some cotton and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He carried it back out and shook it at her. Betty sat up straight again and rolled up her pant leg.

"This is gonna sting a little." Jughead warned. He dabbed the cotton against the cuts and Betty hissed in stereo. Gripping the seat of the chair and making her knuckles turn white. "I'm sorry." He apologized.

"I don't want it to get infected right?" Betty muttered simply, releasing her grip. Jughead looked up to meet her eyes and nodded at her with a small smile.

Jughead bandaged up the cuts and wrapped her ankle, instructing her not to move again. He grabbed a glass of water from the tap and handed it to her, along with two aspirins, before cleaning up the mess of first aid supplies. Betty watched cautiously, awkwardly, but didn't move as she was instructed. Swallowing down the water and pain killers, careful not to overwhelm her angry stomach. Suddenly Jughead reappeared in the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water for himself, swallowing it down in one gulp.

"Alright, let's go." He muttered, standing from his lean on the counter.

"Where exactly are we going?" Betty asked confused. Jughead chuckled into his chest before leaning down to pick her up from the chair. "Jughead!" she nearly shrieked. "Jug, what are you doing?"

"Don't even think about walking." He stood up with her in his arms.

"Put me down." She said sternly.

"Nope." He started to walk out of the small kitchen.

"Jughead!" Betty realized they were headed for the bedroom when he stayed silent. "I can sleep on the couch. You can have your bed, Jug."

"You're hurt and sick, I'll sleep on the couch." He muttered, not meeting her eyes.

"Oh, so he does speak…" He smirked which only made her smirk.

"I'm fine. Take me to the couch or I'll walk there myself." Jughead stopped mid-step and finally looked at her. With his tongue in his cheek, their eyes seemingly developed into a staring contest. Betty crossed her arms over her chest, which were once unconsciously wrapped around his neck.

"Ugh… fine." He didn't turn around though, instead he stopped at the door to the small bathroom. "You know, you can be so aggravating."

"Mmmhmm…" Betty hummed. Jughead set her onto the closed seat of the toilet and Betty adjusted her position as he walked toward the bedroom again. He came back out with a t-shirt and some sweatpants, throwing them at her.

"Put these on… and um," he searched a nearby cabinet. "Use this." He handed her a new toothbrush. "I know you don't want to wake up with puke breath." He winked and she knew she was blushing.

"Sexy, Jug…" she giggled softly at the mention of her having puke breath, and she smirked. She couldn't believe that they were actually having this conversation. She glanced down to the clothes again and he must have sensed her apprehension.

"Put them on, Betty. You're not sleeping in jeans, let alone bloody jeans. I'll throw them in the wash." She rolled her eyes and grunted at him, so he smiled and shut the door behind him. How did she not know that he was this caring?

Shimmying out of her jeans had to look like a magic trick. Avoiding any weight on her ankle, Betty used leverage from her arms and the sink vanity to wobble into the sweats.

"You decent?" He yelled out at her once he thought she'd taken long enough.

"Umm, yeah."

He quickly helped her out the couch and grabbed the remainder of her water from the kitchen table before he disappeared again.

She swallowed down a drink of her water, nearly choking when Jughead came into her view in just flannel pajama pants. She coughed quietly into her hand and Jughead glanced at her. "Wrong tube," she managed, ushering at her throat. He chuckled, shaking his head, he opened the freezer above the refrigerator. He pulled out a frozen bag of peas and reached for the dish towel on the stove.

"Here." He walked up to her and handed her the frozen veggies.

"Thanks." She barely met his eyes. He locked the door of the trailer while Betty propped her foot with a pillow.

Jughead threw her clothes in the wash as promised, before swallowing down another glass of water. He finally let out a loud sigh before resting on the floor in front of the couch. He grabbed the television remote and began flipping through the channels. It was nearly midnight, and only having local channels quickly turned into them watching an old episode of Full House. Betty watched him, Jughead obviously oblivious to her watchful ways. She was more focused on his bare shoulder just a few inches from her hand than she was on the iconic classic theme song or young Michelle Tanner muttering "You got it dude," for what seemed like the tenth time. Betty watched as his head started to dip, his chin falling into his chest before bouncing back up again. She smirked and giggled softly.

"Jug?" She whispered.

"Hmm?" He jumped and she laughed again.

"Go to bed, I'll be fine."

"No, no. I'm good, I'm good…" he tried to defend, adjusting himself to sit up straight.

"Jug," She placed a hand on his shoulder and wasn't sure if she was just feeling things, but he tensed and looked at her fingers. She suddenly wondered if her touch affected him as much as his did her. "Goodnight." She stuttered.

Jughead look back before he stood, smiling softly at her. He pulled the now semi-thawed peas from her ankle to put them back in the freezer. Betty reached for the blanket that was on the back of the sofa and draped it over herself. Jughead stood in between the hallway and the living room, with a hand on the back of his neck. The light behind him made a black silhouette of his body, which Betty was thankful for in the moment. She didn't know if she'd be able to control not looking at him in that stance in the light.

"You're good?" He asked nervously.

"Yeah." She whispered, nodding, knowing he could see her.

"Okay, goodnight…" He turned for the hall.

"Jug,"

"What's up?"

"Thank you." She muttered, sincerely.

"No problem," He shrugged.

"No seriously Jughead, thank you. My mom would've killed me if I'd have gone home and Josie-"

"Just get some rest, Betts…" Her heart squeezed at the new nickname. He didn't call her that. Nobody called her that. She was just Magoo to him, sure she hated the nickname, because what could be worse than the guy you like calling you by your childhood nickname? But "Betts…" it was almost foreign. But so much better than "Goo," and she hoped it'd stick around.

"We'll talk in the morning." Without another word, Jughead disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Betty to stare into the darkness.

It was gonna be a long night.