Help.

She didn't want it, but she knew she needed it.

It all started 7 years ago. After the murder of her best friend's brother, Betty Cooper became more like a rock than a person. She was everyone's rock, therapist, shrink- you name it, she was it. She was the strongest person you could know; handing out advice left and right, lending a helping hand where ever necessary. Until one day, that all changed.

Two years after the murder of Jason Blossom was solved, the small town of Riverdale was once again turned upside down. Although again by a shocking death, this one was different all while still familiar.

Suicide.

Amongst the same family.

The sister, Cheryl Blossom.

Betty was closing in on eighteen when the shocking news of her best friend's death rocked her world. Betty fell, no longer being the sweet and innocent teen that everyone in the town knew her to be.

It started with one drink. Before bed. Every night.

Until one turned into two and then two turned into three. It made her numb. It made her forget the crumbling world around her. Her drinking grew out of control. She would sneak liquor from her parents and harass stranger's into buying beer for her; pulling out the sexy card and claiming it was for her and her friends- that she didn't have. Her want to numb the pain quickly turned into a need, an addiction. She began sneaking out and ended up in the wrong crowd. She had never been one to go after boys, but the alcohol brought out something in her that not only made her go after boys- but, men. She'd slept around- as one might say. On the wrong side of town, she'd been known for crashing dive bars and waking up naked in stranger's houses. Only to sneak home before dawn, so her parents wouldn't know- or so she thought.

Betty had barely graduated high school, failing the second half of her senior year. Luckily, some sweet talking from her mother, Alice Cooper herself was able to secure Betty a place at graduation.

College wasn't an option. After Cheryl's death, Betty missed application deadlines. While she swirled down the drain, so did any chance of her having a successful future.

Eventually Betty grew tired of her mother's badgering, and picked herself up enough to move out. Her sister, Polly, had shared her concerns for Betty with their mother- after she found out first hand just how bad Betty's addiction was.

Polly had been with the same boyfriend all through high school, Justin Keller. The two had been inseparable, getting engaged at eighteen after discovering Polly was pregnant. To everyone's surprise, Polly was pregnant with twins. Lizzie and JJ, now eight years old and still a handful.

Polly had been on a date with Justin, her now husband, when the two of them found Betty in a bar- topless. Betty had been obliterated, but with grown men hooting and hollering at her baby sister, Polly had almost thrown up at the sight.

This was two weeks ago.

Betty had kept her secret for almost 5 years, and now she was about to walk into Riverdale Rehabilitation Center with a fake smile plastered to her face.

"You ready, honey?" Hal Cooper, Betty's father pipes from the driver's seat, sliding the gear shift into park.

Betty snaps out of her trance, glancing into the rearview mirror she nods to her father.

"Well let's go." Hal mutters, opening the driver door.

Betty let's herself out, looking up to the large building, taking in the broad structure that would be her home for at least the next three months.

A man approaches them from the entrance of the building.

"Elizabeth Cooper?" he questions.

Betty nods, "Betty, please." She shakes his hand.

He smiles, "Of course, my name is Reginald Mantle. But, please call me Reggie. I am one of the administrative coordinators here at RRC."

Betty nods.

"Are you ready to head in?" Reggie questions, nodding and shaking the hands of Alice and Hal.

Hal removes the last suitcase from the back of the car, pulling out its handle to roll behind him.

"Well, let's go." Reggie pipes.

Betty can't help but continue to look over the whole building, holding the coat draped across her arm harder to her body.

The four of the enter into a lobby, small but nice. The facility was modern and the quaint room consisted of a few chairs for seating, along with some coffee tables to break up the space.

Reggie turns to Alice and Hal. "This is the lobby," he turns to the front desk. "And this is Ginger."

Ginger is obviously on a call but she smiles and waves to them.

"She is who you will check in with when you come and see Betty." Reggie ensures.

Alice holds out a hand, "When are visiting hours exactly?" she questions.

"Well, that depends on Betty." Reggie motions.

"What?" Betty squeaks.

"It'll all depends on how fast Betty works through her treatment plan. She can earn her privileges in as early as two weeks if she cooperates." Reggie nods.

"Privileges?" Betty mutters.

"If you work through your plan, participate in group therapy, take your medication as directed- those sorts of things. You will earn what we call privileges, it's a little incentive program we have here at RRC. With privileges, you can earn the right to pick your dinner, visiting hours, partake in certain incentives, and the center goes on quite a few educational field trips- in order to get you ready for the real world after you complete your treatment plan. With privileges, you earn the right to attend those group outings, and every once in a while, you can earn a personal outing- where you choose what to do for the day." Reggie tells the three of them.

"See Betts," Hal starts. "This place isn't so bad."

Betty scoffs at her father's comment.

Reggie lifts the employee badge secured to the lapel of his suit jacket, holding it up to a scanner on the wall. The door ahead of them pings and opens at the contact.

"This is floor 1A, this floor is for patients just about to finish their treatment plan. All of them have earned their privileges and worked their programs. One of the things unique about RRC is the fact that each incoming patient receives a psychiatric break down along with other psychoanalytic tests to ensure that each patient receives their very own personal treatment plan ensured to make them the best person they can be when they are released." Reggie rambles.

Betty scoffs, this man sounded like a windup toy spitting out some bullshit recording. He had no doubt been spewing this same speech for years.

"On floor 1A we work with patients. We have trainers come in and teach certain skills such as how to manage your credit, to writing a check, even to doing your taxes." Reggie babbles.

Betty scoffs again, "So, I'm basically going back to school?"

"We know the lives of many that enter into our facilities before they attend treatment. We just try to ensure that their shift from here to the real world is as smooth as possible." Reggie tells her.

Betty rolls her eyes.

"Right this way." Reggie ushers them through another door after the swipe of his key pass. "This is floor 2A," Reggie starts. "Betty, this will be your floor."

Betty glances around. They had entered into a commons area, unlike the previous floor. It wasn't how she imagined it. There were patients scattered around, some playing games at the wooden tables, some just sitting looking out the large windows along the back wall of the large room.

Betty had imagined solemn faces and hospital gowns, but that's not what she saw at all. She saw girls, in their own clothes- she wouldn't say they were happy, but they were far from miserable.

"Is it all girls?" She pipes.

Alice rolls her eyes.

"Mom I'm just curious." Betty mutters, with no ulterior motive.

Okay, maybe she had a small ulterior motive.

"No, it's fine." Reggie ensures Alice. "This floor is all girls, yes. The opposite side of the floor, floor 2B." Reggie nods. "That is all male."

Betty nods in understanding.

"So," Reggie starts. "As you can see this floor is a lot more open. Girls on this floor haven't all yet earned their privileges, and the ones that have aren't working their programs to what we feel are their best abilities."

"So, I'll be here?" Betty squeaks.

"Until we feel you are ready to move to 1A." Reggie mutters.

Betty nods.

"On this floor, you will work with volunteers. They are counselors, all the same as our ones who have obtained a PhD." Reggie smiles. "Here at RRC, we train our volunteer counselors all the same we train or employed counselors. The only difference is, our volunteers are willing to give up their time and service just to help others and I can ensure you, you will grow to love our volunteer counselors." Reggie smiles. "Oh look, here comes one of them now."

Walking across the floor is the most beautiful specimen of a man Betty had ever seen.

And she had seen a lot.

He had dark black hair that fell midlevel over his forehead. He was tall and brooding, although happy; as he smiled walking over to them. He had piercing blue eyes, that hit Betty like a ton of bricks. She decided she'd had better close her mouth before she started drooling.

She needed to know his name.

"Reggie, who is this?" His voice wasn't too deep or too high, just the right pitch to make Betty swoon at the sound.

"This is Elizabeth Cooper, she's a new patient joining us." Reggie introduces.

"Betty please." She pleads, reaching out a hand to the still stranger.

He nods, glancing at her hand before taking it into a strong hold. "Jughead Jones." He gives her hand a light squeeze. "I'm so happy to have you joining us here at RRC." He smiles.

Betty fights the urge to roll her eyes.

He had been so cute up until he started spitting RRC bullshit like Mr. Know it all, Reginald.

"Which floor?" Jughead turns to Reggie.

"This one." Reggie mutters.

Jughead looks pleased. "Perfect." He mutters. "This is the only floor I volunteer on."

"Why's that?" Betty teases.

"Everything is always changing, someone's always coming or going. Every day is something different." Jughead tells her.

God this man was perfect, she couldn't help but survey him up and down- over and over again.

He was sporting skinny jeans, that clung to him in all of the right places. An ID badge that matched Reggie's was hooked to one of the belt loops along his waistline. He was wearing a thick red flannel jacket with a seemingly wool inside, under the jacket he was wearing a dark gray t-shirt, imprinted with the letter 'S.' However, she couldn't draw her eyes away from his head. Atop his head laid a hat, a beanie, but it was shaped like a crown. It was gray and greatly worn and Betty craved to know the story behind it.

Just then, Reggie's phone lets out a ring and everyone turns.

"Excuse me." He mutters, stepping away before answering the call.

Alice and Hal take a seat in a set of chairs along the wall of the large room.

"First time?" Jughead mutters.

"Huh?" Betty snaps out of her day dreaming state.

"First time in treatment?" he questions.

"Is it that obvious?" Betty sighs.

"I'm trained to know, so yeah I guess it is obvious to me." He laughs.

She lets out a giggle.

"How long have you worked here?" Betty eases, trying to break the tension all while wanting to know more about this man.

"Well I don't work here." Jughead starts. "But I've been volunteering for almost three years."

He was a smart ass. Betty liked that.

"Why not take it further? Three years is a long time, you obviously love what you do." She mutters.

"I'm content." Jughead says. "It's my turn."

"For what?" Betty whispers.

"To ask you a question, nosey." Jughead teases.

"I am not nosey!" Betty gasps. "Fine." She laughs.

Jughead's eyes go serious. "What are you here for?"

Betty's not ready to have this conversation- with anyone.

"Sorry guys," Reggie cuts. "There's an emergency at one of the other facilities and I am needed there. We're going to have to cut this little tour short."

"Hold on Reggie," Jughead jumps. "I'll finish it out for you. After all we want everyone to be well educated about everything here at RRC." He levels out his voice, to full on sound like a recording and ends with a wink to Betty.

She laughs, glad that he understands that it is ridiculous too.

"Oh, thank you Jughead." Reggie ensures. "Finish out this floor, and then take her to her room?"

Jughead nods, "No problem boss."

"Thanks, Jughead." Reggie nods. "And for the last time, I am not your boss."

Betty lets out a laugh.

"Let's continue, shall we?" Jughead teases.

Jughead shows them the dining area, the kitchen, and even allows The Coopers to sneak onto the all-male floor. Which was all the same as Betty's floor just filled with testosterone- nothing special.

"You ready?" Jughead flicks a finger over Betty's bare upper arm and she jumps. His touch was like a spark, and she felt the heat all the way down to her toes.

"For what?" Betty pipes.

"It's time to meet your roommate." Jughead nods.

"My roommate?" Betty questions.

"Everyone on 2A has a roommate, you may be with her for the whole time you're here or just a short amount of time, you never know on this floor." Jughead mutters.

"Different every day." Betty repeats his words.

"Exactly." Jughead smiles.

"God, I can't believe I have to have a roommate." Betty sighs, as her and Jughead walk side by side back to her floor.

"It's not all bad," Jughead's hand brushes against hers, it's unintentional but that odd spark shoots through her veins again.

She wonders if he feels it too.

"You can build a relationship with her. She can really be an asset to your therapy plan. Be a friend in this mess of a system." Jughead tells her.

"You sound like you know firsthand." Betty mutters.

"I have a past, I'm in this system for a reason. But it's beneficial if you allow it to be." Jughead nods.

"So as a counselor," Betty starts.

Jughead looks towards her, hands in pockets.

"Do you know my roommate?" Betty questions.

Jughead nods, "I do."

"What's her name?"

"Her name is Ethel," Jughead starts. "She's been here at RRC for two years."

"Two years!?" Betty almost chokes.

Jughead laughs and nods, "She works her program and has her privileges, but she plays us out. She has no family, she's an only child and her father died when she was a teenager. Her mother disowned her after she placed her in treatment here. She'll work her program for as long as she can before she relapses. She wants to get better, but she has nowhere to go once she's released."

"That's so sad." Betty mutters.

"She's nice, quite the chatty Kathy though so just prepare yourself." Jughead laughs.

"What's she in for?" Betty mutters.

Jughead gives her a confused look.

"Why is she in rehab?" Betty rewords.

"Eating disorder. She's a bulimic." Jughead nods.

"How old is she?" Betty asks, taken back.

"23. How old are you?" Jughead questions.

Betty knew that he had further intentions with the question, but she didn't mind his curiosity.

"I'm 23." She whispers.

"Perfect fit." Jughead mutters, smiling.

He scans his ID badge over the wall and the door clicks and opens.

"Your room is just down the hall." He mutters.

"Can my parents come?" Betty asks, nervously.

"Of course, they can meet Ethel. But then I'm afraid it's the end of the road." Jughead mutters.

Betty nods and they start down the long hallway.

"Ethel?" Jughead places a light knock to one of the doors about midway down the hall.

A small girl turns around. She was slim, but not as slim as Betty thought she would be. The girl had short and curly red hair. It paired off above her shoulders and was adorned with a bow on the right side of her head. She sat in a crisscross applesauce position on top of a twin sized bed. The bed was neatly made, completed with a mustard yellow throw blanket and a single white pillow. A bedside table with plastic protected corners, sat next her holding a single bulb desk lap. A copy of "Beloved" by Toni Morrison sat on top of the small wooden table. Betty let out a smile, she liked this girls taste.

"Ethel, this is-" Jughead starts.

"Betty!" Ethel screeches, jumping up from the bed. "They told me you were coming today!"

"Hi." Betty laughs.

This girl was a lot.

"Oh sorry," Ethel jumps. "My name if Ethel Muggs and I'm a bulimic." She mimics, understanding that it's ridiculous.

Betty lets out a small laugh, "Betty Cooper."

"So," Jughead cuts in. "Betty, that is your bed over there." He points to the opposite corner of the room, an unmade twin sized mattress was set with a folded light blue throw blanket, a set of stark white sheets, and a single cased pillow.

"I'll take your suitcases." Jughead motions to Hal, who gives them up. Handing them over to Jughead.

"What!? Why!?" Betty jumps.

"Whoa, easy there." Jughead soothes. "Personal has to go through them, make sure that there is nothing that would cause you or others harm or anything that would affect the efficiency of your treatment plan. It's protocol."

Betty rolls her eyes.

"Don't worry," Jughead starts. "I'll bring them back later and you can unpack. Until then, please, make your bed. Settle in with Ethel, perhaps go meet some of the other girls in the commons."

Betty slowly nods.

"I am afraid this is the end of the road for your parents though." Jughead mutters.

Betty's face goes solemn. She didn't always get along with her parents, but she didn't know if she could do this on her own. She wanted to get better and that's what she was holding onto.

"I'll give you guys a minute." Jughead steps away.

Alice sighs. "Oh Betty, my sweet sweet Betty." Alice grabs Betty's face.

Betty's eyes begin to fill with tears.

"Oh, don't cry sweetheart." Alice runs a hand over Betty's hair.

"I'm so sorry mom." Betty whimpers.

"Shhh, it's okay honey. Just get better, work your program so you can get privileges- so I can come see you."

Betty nods.

"Okay." Alice mutters, pulling Betty into a hug.

Alice pulls away and Hal goes in. "Hey kiddo." He smiles. "It'll work out, this is a good thing I promise."

Betty couldn't fight them anymore, so she just nodded.

"Goodbye sweetheart." Alice mutters, tears now filling her own eyes.

Betty watches as Jughead walks with her parents down the hall, before escorting them through the automatic door with the scan of his ID card.

"She'll be ok?" Alice asks as Jughead walks her and Hal to their car.

"I can ensure you Mrs. Cooper-" Jughead starts.

"Alice, please."

"Alice." Jughead smiles. "I can ensure you that Betty will be just fine. If she works her program correctly and efficiently you could see her in as little as two weeks."

Alice scoffs, "You don't know her, She's quite stubborn."

"I understand your concerns." Jughead nods. "If you'd like I would be happy to keep you updated on her progress, I'll even let you know personally when she is granted privileges." Jughead insists.

"Oh, would you? That would be amazing Jughead, thank you." Alice gushes.

"Of course. I'm sure your daughter will do great, and I'll make sure myself that she is getting by alright."

"You are so sweet Jughead, thank you so much. You have no idea how worried we are about her. It's been a long five years and I am so happy we were finally able to get her into treatment." Alice mutters.

"I can ensure you that I know exactly what you are going through. But, if you don't mind me asking. Why is Betty here exactly?" Jughead questions.

"Addiction." Alice mutters. "Alcohol addiction."

Jughead nods understanding. "Psychological trauma? Don't mind my pushing, I just haven't had time to read over her file yet."

"Are you on her case?" Alice asks.

"Well if I wasn't, I am now." Jughead tells her.

"Well, I'll allow Betty to share her own story, in her own time- it's only right." Alice retorts.

"Of course." Jughead smiles. "You folks have a good night, expect a call from me within the next couple of days."

"Thanks again Jughead." Alice nods.

"No problem, goodbye now."

Jughead watches as The Coopers car leaves the parking lot, he didn't know Betty- but he wanted too and he would.

Jughead laid in bed that night, tossing and turning over his thoughts about the infamous blonde he had met that day. He pictured her in his head. Her blonde hair fell just below her shoulders in natural light curls. He had never been one for blondes, but damn she was perfect. He couldn't get the image of her piercing green eyes out of his brain. He remembers seeing her, standing vulnerable and confused. She was damaged, yes. And she seemed reserved and as her mother said stubborn. He could tell her parents were over baring, although he knew they only wanted what was best for her. However, he couldn't help but think that her parents had sent Betty to treatment in order to save their seemingly perfect Cooper name. He wanted to know her, it was odd. The feeling he got when he was around her, he had never felt it before. He needed to know her past. He had started in on her file, but it didn't share a lot of secrets. He knew she had lost her best friend to suicide five years ago and that led to a few suicide attempts herself. He wanted to know why, why liquor? Why alcohol? Who was she before the drinking and who is she now? He wanted to know everything about her.

He returned her suitcases, she muttered a quiet thank you before closing the door once more. He had seen her at dinner, silent and scared. She picked at her plate, playing with her fork as it made sharp noises at the contact with the glass. Hoping to see her in the commons after dinner, he waited around a little longer than usual. But, she didn't show, Ethel mentioned that she had gone back to their room. He thought about checking in on her, but she didn't know him and he didn't feel it was appropriate to barge into her space and grill her about her life on her first day at the center. It would take time- she would take time. Lying awake in his apartment is when he decided that he was willing to give her that. Time.

Betty began recovery. The first few days was the hardest, Betty was agitated and irritable. You couldn't say a word to her without a vicious reply from the monster that had seemingly taken over Betty's body- with the name of withdrawal. Betty constantly found herself nauseous and dizzy. Her anxiety had spiked and she had barely left her room for a full four days, unless it was for therapy. Betty hated therapy. She had never been one to talk about her feelings she had always been the one to help others with theirs, so opening up was all new for her. Betty couldn't stand listening to everyone else's problems, she used to love it. She used to love playing therapist among her friends, but that was when she actually had friends. She met some of the other girls, and Jughead was right- it was different every day. There were girls in therapy for anorexia, drug addiction, depression, anxiety- you name it, they were there. There were times when Betty would only see certain girls in the commons for a few days before they disappeared- signaling a move or a relapse, Betty never knew. Betty had started some new medications, deciding they were the only thing that was going to help ease her symptoms of withdrawal. She hated how the new drugs made her feel, she was groggy and always tired, but her doctor had warned her of the side effects and said they would fade.

Betty had caught on to a schedule, it had only been a week and a half but Betty noticed a pattern. Jughead volunteered Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday from right around noon to just after dinner. She had caught glimpses of him at meal times, he would smile at her while he sat her place setting in front of her or grab her shoulder to check on her midway through her meal- that infamous electric spark was still there from the day they met. But, Betty didn't know what it meant. The man made her nervous, which heightened her already prominent anxiety. She knew her pining was useless, who would want to be with her? She was damaged- broken. Her past would always haunt her and she couldn't ask anyone else to take on her burdens too. She was a slut and she knew that. Hell, she was lucky she didn't have an STD or at least a current one- because she couldn't remember if she'd had one in her blurred memories of the past. No man would ever want her, but that's not what mattered anymore. Betty needed to heal herself, advocate for herself, and work her treatment plan. Betty's first week of being sober had opened her eyes. She needed a future and a successful one at that. And to do that she needed to be sober- and stay that way. She wanted to be healthy and get the hell out of this place. But she couldn't help but think, why was his name Jughead? And how long had he had that scrap that he called a hat?