Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Something is wrong, Jughead," Betty's hand on his arm made his skin feel like it was on fire. "You need to figure out what it is, and if that means going to a doctor, I'll go with you." Everything in him wanted to jerk away from her touch, but she was the one person he wouldn't shut out, because if he did he'd be completely alone. His dad didn't understand what he was dealing with, even if he had finally agreed to use the proper pronouns. He still saw Jughead as his daughter, still thought his insistence that he was a boy was just a phase. But Jughead had always known he was a boy, it wasn't a phase or a game or a vague feeling. It was his truth.

"It's not that simple, Betty," Jughead sighed. At fifteen, he was in full blown puberty. His breasts were flattened by a binder, despite the ache it caused him. They weren't that big, thankfully, but they were obvious. He could at least do something about that, even if the binder hurt like a bitch. More so recently, but he was doing his damnedest to ignore that. He couldn't do much about the junk below the waist, and that was what was currently giving him issues. It was different than the usual cramping, though, and though he'd never admit it out loud, he really wished his period would just start and get it over with.

Betty pulled her hand away on her own, and he drew his arm in closer to his own body, effectively hugging himself. Betty sighed. "We can go to Greendale, I'll get the cash out of my mom's stash to pay for it. We can use fake names and pretend we're married or something."

Jughead scratched his neck. He should have facial hair by now. At least a little bit, but his jawline was smooth as a baby's bottom, all soft and feminine. He hated it. He hated everything about his body because nothing matched how he felt inside. Nothing matched who he really was.

"There's nothing wrong. It's just the usual," Jughead told her, his tone conveying annoyance and defeat. "I just need to go home and lay down." Keeping up appearances and acting like everything was fine was exhausting. Especially with Betty. She'd been his best friend since Kindergarten, and she was one of the only people in his life who made any effort at all to understand his identity didn't match his body. He wasn't a girl, he had never been a girl. Having a vagina did not make him a girl.

Betty was the one person he could confide in. But he did that too much already. She was his sounding board, and at times his sanity. She'd talked him down off the ledge more than once. He wasn't going to expect her to do it again. So he pretended he was fine. Everything was fine. His period was just late, probably because of the stress he was under.

"I just wish my dad would get on board and let me get on the pill if not the testosterone." His dad though, refused to have that conversation. He walked away whenever Jughead tried to bring it up. He refused to listen to Jughead's arguments that the pill would at least regulate his periods. It wouldn't prevent them, but it would make them a whole lot easier to deal with. Instead his dad made him suffer the indignity of having to buy supplies and deal with the humiliation of the period and all that went with it.

He couldn't do anything about it himself until he was 18, and that was still two and a half years away. Archie's mom had told him no court would emancipate him if he took his dad to court because he didn't have the means to support himself. Of course she, like Archie and everyone else Jughead knew, insisted on using female pronouns and his birth name.

"I could ask my mom to put me on the pill, and I could give it to you," Betty offered. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it might be the best they could do. Jughead gave her a sad sort of smile. he knew she'd do that for him. But she shouldn't have to.

He shook his head. "That's sweet of you to offer," he told her. "But..."

"But what, Jug? You're miserable. And it's getting worse. Just in the last couple of weeks, I've noticed you've been more depressed." Of course Betty would notice. But she hadn't said anything. He appreciated that.

He sighed. "I'm getting..." He closed his eyes, curled his hands into fists so that his fingernails dug into his palms despite how blunt they were. "Bigger," he said. He opened his eyes, and looked at Betty. "I could barely squeeze into the binder this morning," he said softly, his voice pitched by the sting of tears that burned at his eyes. "And they ache. Constantly. Even when I take it off." Which wasn't often. Only when he showered, really. "I couldn't wear it to bed, the last few nights."

She reached out to touch his arm again. It was all he could do not to recoil. He wasn't adverse to Betty touching him, and he didn't know why his gut reaction was to pull away. Instead he dropped his other hand to cover hers. "It's fine. It's a growth spurt or whatever. I just need to get a new binder."

The look she gave him spoke volumes about how she thought there was more to it than that, and she felt like he was keeping something from her. He sighed and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "I gotta get to class. So do you." He squeezed her hand then pulled away and started off down the hall with his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets. Betty was his safety net and without her, he was subjected to sneers and jabs from his classmates. Most of the time he tried not to let it get to him, but today he was already one edge and his emotions were out of whack, and he wanted to duck into the bathroom, but that was a whole other emotional issue because he wasn't allowed to go in the boy's room but he didn't belong in the girl's room either. So he drew a shaking breath and slid into his seat in the back to the classroom and hoped no one bothered him today.

Chapter Text

Jughead met up with Betty after class, to head to the cafeteria together. At least they had the same lunch period, so he didn't have to sit alone. With Betty there, he wasn't targeted by the bullies quite so much as when he was alone. Not that he needed Betty to protect him, but she was bad ass, and she had sent many a would-be bully running for cover, if not crying for their mother.

They approached the cafeteria, but Jughead pulled up short. "Oh shit." He turned back, heading quickly for the nearest restroom. He was biologically female, and because female was his official gender, he was forced to use the girl's bathroom. He usually agonized over it and tried to avoid using the restroom at school as much as possible, but when the choice was to hurl right there in the hallway or dive into the girl's room, there wasn't much choice at all.

Unfortunately because he went into the girl's room, Betty could, and did, follow. "Jug?"

His hands gripped the sides of the toilet, and he heaved and gagged, then spit before he flushed. He pushed up to his feet and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I'm fine, Betty. Go eat."

"Like hell I'm leaving you alone right now." There was a thread of finality in Betty's tone, but really. Jughead would expect nothing less. The building could fall to rubble around them, and she would stay by his side. That was just how she was with all her friends, but especially with him. He told himself it was because they'd known each other the longest. Well, the two of them and Archie. But Archie ran with a different crowd now, and acted like he didn't know them half the time.

Jughead sighed deeply, his chest heaving with it, as he opened the door to the stall. "I guess whatever they're serving today didn't agree with me." He knew that wasn't going to fly. Betty was too in tune with him to fall for that. She was the one insisting earlier that there was something wrong with him. She was always more worried about him than he felt was necessary.

A pair of girls came into the restroom and snorted derisively at the sight of Jughead there. Betty reached for his hand, and led him over to the sink where they both washed their hands before she took his in hers again and headed out of the bathroom. He stopped and leaned against the wall. "I'm not going to the cafeteria, Betty. You should go eat."

"Not without you," she said. She linked her arm fully in his. "We can go sit outside," she suggested. Jughead nodded and let her take the lead, heading out to the courtyard. "This is way better than that stuffy old cafeteria anyway," she drew in a deep breath, inhaling and the cool October air.

Jughead sat down and rubbed his hands over his arms. He wasn't cold per se, but there was a bit of a chill in the air. More than that, though, he was aware of Betty watching him, almost like she was studying him. It felt invasive, and made him feel self conscious. "If you have something to say, say it," he goaded her. "Because I feel like I'm under a microscope right now, and that's the last thing I'd expect from you."

Betty sighed. Jughead dropped his hands to his lap. "Something's going on with you, Jug, and I'm just trying to figure out what it is." He started to say her name, but she put her hand up and reached out to his arm and he fell silent. He dropped his gaze, looking down at her hand on his arm instead, because looking back at her face made him feel like her eyes were boring holes into his skull.

"Let me talk, Jug. Since this school year started, you've been jumpy. More so than usual. I've noticed in the classes we have together, some days you can't sit still, other days you don't move at all and it's like you're just going through the motions. You bite my head off at the slightest thing sometimes, and other times it's all I can do to get a reaction out of you. I feel like you don't want to be alone with me, and I don't," she paused to catch her breath, doing that look to the side with a hand up to the face move that showed she was choking back emotions. She let out a shaking breath, and continued. "I don't know what I've done to make you not trust me anymore."

"You haven't..." Betty dropped her gaze, and Jughead reached up to try and lift her chin so he could meet her eyes. "You haven't done anything, Betty. It's not you. It's-"

"Me," she finished in unison with him. "What does that even mean, Jug?" There was that boring-holes-in-his-skull gaze again. This time he held steady, looking back at her even as the sting of tears burned in his eyes. He blinked, and tears slid out, rolling down his cheek.

He should have known he could never fool her. Should have known she would see through his false bravado. It was only a matter of time before she called him out on it. Especially now that he was having symptoms of something he didn't even want to consider.

"Jug? Juggie, what is it?" Betty's hand moved down his arm to catch his hand in hers.

He clasped it and raised her hand to press his lips against her knuckles. "Remember that party, the weekend before school started?" His voice sounded so small. he felt smaller than the ant that crawled across the picnic table in front of them.

Betty nodded. Any party Cheryl Blossom threw was one sure to be one to remember, though Betty couldn't say she remembered anything specific. Except that while she and Jughead had gone to the party together, he'd left early because he didn't feel well.

"I wasn't sick. When I left," he told her. He bent his head, holding their clasped hands against his forehead. "I was..." He fell silent, the heaviness of what he was saying thick in the air between them. "I think I might be..."

"Freak!" someone yelled from across the courtyard. It was the first of many taunts and jeers Once one started, others joined in. It was a never ending cycle, and even though it had been happening for as long as he could remember, he never seemed to get used to it.

"Come on, Jug. Let's get out of here." Betty helped him to his feet, and kept her arm around him as they went inside. Whatever he was going to say, it could wait until they were somewhere alone and safe from ridicule. "I got you."

Chapter Text

Betty didn't pressure him to talk once they were in the car like he expected. He was grateful for it, and sat in companionable silence for the first few minutes. "I don't want you to get in trouble for skipping class," he said finally, when she turned into the parking lot at Pop's instead of heading to the Sunnyside Trailer Park to drop him off.

She cut the engine of her mother's station wagon and turned to look at him. "Some things are more important than Geometry and Geography," she told him. She reached out and clasped his hand in hers. He really would be lost without her, he thought, and not for the first time. "And PE." She rolled her eyes at that. She was athletic and fit, sure. She was a cheerleader after all. But she didn't enjoy PE as a mandatory class.

He turned her hand over in his and gave it a quick squeeze. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm really glad you're in my corner."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." Betty returned the squeeze then released his hand and unbuckled her seat belt. She got out of the car, expecting that he would follow her lead. He sat where he was for a moment, long enough to take a deep breath, before following her into Pop's. Because school wasn't out yet, there were only a few people in the diner and plenty of open booths. Betty unceremoniously chose the one furthest from the door, and slid in, leaving the side that backed up to the wall for Jughead. She knew he didn't like having his back to the room, and while it was unlikely anyone would bother him when he was with her, she respected that.

He felt like a ticking time bomb, and as much as he appreciated the fact Betty wasn't pushing him to talk, he knew he needed to. He knew he could tell her his fears. He knew she would be horrified, but she would put that aside to be there for him. Maybe that was what scared him the most about telling her his secret. Because she would support him no matter what he chose to do about it, and that was a lot to put on someone else's plate. Even if she was his best friend, his self described other half, and undoubtedly the half that made him whole.

He drew in a breath as Pop approached the table for their order. The milkshakes would take a few minutes, so once Pop walked away, Jughead knew he didn't have much more in the way of distractions. And honestly, the longer he waited to come clean to Betty the worse the butterflies in his stomach made him feel. He needed to do it, just say it, but the words seemed to get hung up in his throat.

"What is it, Juggie?" Betty murmured. She reached across the table to lay her hand over his.

That one simple gesture was nearly his undoing.The warmth of her hand on his seemed to be a catalyst for tears stinging his eyes. He sighed, lifted his other hand to dab at his eyes. "I'm pregnant," he whispered, forgoing everything else and cutting right to the heart of it. His voice cracked and faltered, but he knew by the way her fingers curled around and firmly gripped his hand that she'd heard the word.

Holding tight to his hand, she moved, sliding out of the seat and over to his side without letting go of his hand. She did let go then, long enough to switch hands, so that she could drape her arm around his shoulder. She didn't say anything, didn't ask how, didn't ask who, didn't say she was sorry, or ask him what he was going to do about it. Strong and silent, she just wrapped him up in her arms and radiated her unconditional love and support, as she had always done for him.

Not another word had been spoken between them when Pop dropped the milkshakes off. Betty had just held him while he fought the tears and the sobs, and after the milkshakes were there, she kissed his temple and moved her arm from around his shoulders to push his milkshake toward him. "Don't want your milkshake to melt," she told him, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't dropped a bombshell right in her lap.

Pregnancy was not something most 16 year olds aspired toward. It was a fast track to derailing life plans, even with the support of family and friends. Jughead didn't have that. Oh, he had Betty in his corner. Maybe even Betty's mother. But his own dad didn't understand him. Insisted his 'acting like a boy' was a phase. And Jughead couldn't help but think this never would have happened if his dad had respected him, if his dad had allowed him to take puberty blockers that would have stopped his menstrual cycles and egg production. Then he couldn't have gotten pregnant. But his dad hadn't supported him, hadn't allowed him to start hormone therapy. His dad still expected him to be a girl.

He squeezed her hand then tugged his free, his long fingers wrapping around the cold milkshake glass. He took a small sip, testing his stomach with just a small amount to make sure it wasn't going to come back up. The nausea he'd felt at school had passed, but now he just felt heavy. He felt like a burden. Like he didn't deserve someone so pure and wonderful and amazing as Betty Cooper by his side. But she was right there, literally and figuratively, by his side through thick and thin.

Betty moved back to the other side of the table, sliding her milkshake over once she settled directly across from him. The unwavering steadiness of his gaze told him she was there for him, she would listen if he wanted to talk, and most importantly she would let him talk in his own time. Without leading questions, without demanding or expecting anything from him. She couldn't know what he was dealing with, but she could stoically support him without judgement. The burden he carried was his to bear, and his to share.

Chapter Text

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" Betty asked him. They were in the car, headed home. She was going to drop him off, but he seemed off to her. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but she sensed he didn't want to go home. Why would he? His father didn't understand him, didn't respect him. It wasn't the best situation on a good day, and the fact Jughead was pregnant would probably only make things more awkward and uncomfortable for him, even if his dad didn't know that yet.

Jughead sighed. "I should probably just go home." If there was one person even less accepting than his own father, it was Betty's dad. Mr. Cooper had been very vocal about his opinions regarding Jughead's gender identity.

"Okay. If that's what you really want." Her tone said she knew it wasn't what he wanted. She dropped her hand, seeking his.

He squeezed her hand. "I don't know what I want, Betty. I'm so confused right now." He didn't know what he'd do without her. He didn't want to think about what he'd do if he didn't have her unconditional love and support. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he knew he'd get through it because he had her by his side.

"I know you are, Jug. And I'm not sure going home is the best thing for you right now." Betty let go of his hand to return her hand to the steering wheel. "I'll take you home if you want, but I'd feel better if you came home with me."

He couldn't even argue that he didn't have clothes or a toothbrush at Betty's house, because he did. He had a duffel bag of clothes and toiletries hidden under her bed. Just in case things got too bad at home and he needed to get away. Maybe this qualified. "What about your dad?" That was really the only argument he had.

"He's not home," Betty informed him. "Mom kicked him out again. He's sleeping at the Register."

"Oh. I didn't know." He wasn't really surprised. Betty's parents had a strained marriage. Jughead didn't spend much time at her house, but when he was there, he could feel the tension.

Betty shrugged. "It happens so often now, it's not really worth reporting."

He couldn't argue with that. Honestly he didn't understand why Mr. and Mrs. Cooper didn't get a divorce. They didn't seem to like each other very much. Betty and her sister were both grown now, Polly didn't even live at home anymore. He wouldn't say anything, but he really thought they should get divorced and go their separate ways. It seemed like it would be in everyone's best interest. Especially Betty, and Betty was the one he really cared about.

"Okay. I'll call my dad and tell him we have a project to work on and I'll probably just crash." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his dad. He disconnected after a minute. "He's not answering." Which wasn't really unusual, it certainly wasn't something that Jughead found to be suspicious. "I'll call him later. Not like he's going to be sitting around wondering where I am." Jughead doubted he'd even care if Jughead didn't call him. He probably wouldn't miss him if he didn't go home for several days.

Betty frowned when she pulled into the driveway and her mother's car was there. "Mom's not supposed to be home," she said. "I mean, it doesn't matter. I just didn't expect her to be here." She shrugged. Her mom was cool with Jughead. She used the proper pronouns and didn't talk to him like he was a freak. That earned her serious points with Betty who was otherwise unimpressed with her mother simply because she was her mom.

They went in the back door, and into the kitchen. Betty's mother was at the table with her laptop. She pulled her glasses down and greeted the kids with a smile. "You're home early," she commented.

"We got out early," Betty glanced at Jughead. Her mother looked flush. Almost flustered. Like she'd been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Betty swung her gaze back to her mother. "Jug's staying tonight."

"If that's all right with you," Jughead added. He caught his hand moving to his stomach, and he let it drop. Hopefully before Mrs. Cooper noticed.

She nodded. She looked down, then reached up to brush her hair away from her face. "If it's all right with Jughead's dad, it's fine with me."

"I called him, he didn't answer," Jughead said. "He'll probably call me back in a little while."

Betty took hold of Jughead's hand. "Do you want to tell her?"

Jughead looked from Betty to her mother and back again. "Tell me what?" Mrs. Cooper asked. She shifted in her chair, and reached up to shut her laptop. Jughead shifted his weight. He felt entirely put on the spot. "What is it, Jughead? Did something happen at home?"

"No. Nothing like that." At least not yet. He had no idea how his dad would react when he found out Jughead's secret. "It's just..."

"What is it, Jughead? You know you can tell me anything." Mrs. Cooper reached a hand out to touch Jughead's arm.

He sighed. Damn Betty for putting him in this position. he wanted to say it was nothing. But he also really really wanted an adult ally. He knew that wasn't going to be his father. "I think," he started. He glanced at Betty. She nodded and squeezed his hand. "I think I'm pregnant, Mrs. Cooper."

Mrs. Cooper drew a sharp breath. It was obvious that was the last thing she expected. It was the last thing he'd ever expected to have to say out loud, and yet here they were. That was his new reality. "Oh, Jughead. Was that something you wanted?"

"No!" Jughead answered quickly. "It was...a party. And." He waved a hand. God he felt like such an idiot. He never should have told Betty. He should have just...gone somewhere and had it taken care of. The only problem was, he didn't know if he could do that.

"I understand." Mrs. Cooper stood, and put her hand to Jughead's shoulder in a show of support. "Whatever you need, Jughead. I'll support you any way that I can."

Jughead nodded. "Thanks." He meant that sincerely. it meant a lot to have Mrs. Cooper's support. At least she knew the baby wasn't Betty's. That was categorically impossible. "I think I'm gonna try my dad again." Jughead pulled his phone out of his pocket. A moment later, the phone sitting on the table beside Mrs. Cooper's laptop started ringing. Jughead pulled his phone away from his ear and stared at the phone on the table. His name was visible on the screen. All three of them stared at the phone as if it were a snake about to bite them.

"Mom?" Betty questioned. Her voice sounded distant, foreign even in her own ears. "Why do you have Mr. Jones' phone?"

Jughead cancelled the call. Where Mrs. Cooper was beet red, he was white as a ghost, and Betty was staring at her mother with wide eyed confusion. The silence when the ringing stopped seemed deafening for a moment.

Mrs. Cooper drew a breath. "He must have taken mine."

"He...what? You and...You and Mr. Jones?" Betty walked away from her mother, turned her back on her. "You...Is that why...Is that why you kicked Dad out?" Betty turned back, something that was a twisted combination of anger and confusion in her tone and her expression.

"I think I'll just...go," Jughead said and he headed for the door. He'd walk home, he didn't care. He just needed to get out of there. Away from Mrs. Cooper and the reality that she had his father's phone. He didn't want to think about that that meant.

Betty ran after him. "Juggie, wait." She didn't even bother to close the door. "Come back inside, Jug."

"I don't think I want to do that." He had just told Mrs. Cooper that he was pregnant. And immediately there after found out she was apparently having an affair with his father. He felt like the sky was falling, and pieces of it were smacking him in the face.

Betty all but skipped over the porch steps to reach him. "Where are you going to go?"

"I don't know. But not here." Jughead wiped a hand at his eyes. "I can't...stay here."

"Then I'm going with you," Betty said, her tone leaving no room for arguments.

Chapter Text

He thought about going to a clinic, but he had no idea where to go. He'd been in complete denial about his pregnancy until the symptoms became too difficult to ignore. He was bloated, he was tender and everything felt sensitive and out of whack. He felt heavy and uncoordinated. He felt like he couldn't get out of his own way.

He also felt like it was his dad's fault, because he hadn't allowed Jughead to take the medication he needed to prevent his body from betraying him. He'd been forced to go through the wrong puberty, and now he was pregnant because of one terrible decision. He'd given in to the peer pressure, and he'd had a drink at the party.

He didn't remember a whole lot after that. He vaguely remembered an arm around his shoulders, leading him up the stairs, into a bedroom. He remembered feeling like the world was spinning way too fast, even though he was laying down and there was a weight on top of him. He didn't remember much more. A feeling of dread and wrongness. He'd never been drunk before, but he felt like he was drunk. He didn't think he should be drunk from just one drink, a drink he was pretty sure he hadn't even finished.

He heard laughter, and felt his shirt pulled off his body. He'd been entirely unable to prevent it happening, he hadn't even had the will to fight. He felt hands pawing at the binder he wore to flatten his chest, and then his breasts were set free, those same hands groping them, holding Jughead's limp body against a hard, muscled male chest.

He was led to the bed, his attempts to fight going down were met with laughs and jabs and jeers. He tried to shove against the hands that guided him, but he was awkward and uncoordinated. "Look at him fight like a girl. You know why you fight like a girl, Jughead? Because you are a fucking girl," a voice taunted. He wasn't even sure how many people were gathered in the room. Three, maybe four.

He was shoved down, face first, onto the mattress. His jeans and boxers were tugged off him and his entirely feminine body was exposed. Terror seized him, but he couldn't move. "Let's show this freak what it means to be a girl," someone said, and the mattress sagged with the weight of him climbing on and moving in.

Jughead tried to scream, but his face was pressed into the mattress and the scream was silenced against the bedsheets. The next thing he knew, he was waking up, naked on the bed, sticky between his thighs and all over his chest. His breasts bore bite marks, and his entire body ached like he'd worked through an aggressive work out. His hips ached like a toothache, and his ass felt like it was on fire. His genitals felt like he'd been torn open.

Being on hormones might not have stopped what happened, but it would have prevented pregnancy. But now Jughead was pregnant, the father one of his classmates who had drugged him and raped him because he was a freak, because he was a boy born in a girl's body, because he had a vagina and womb instead of a penis. And now it wasn't just his problem. It was the child's problem too. The baby was entirely innocent, and it was up to Jughead to figure out what to do about it.

He didn't feel like he could go to his dad. His father didn't respect him, didn't understand him. Jughead had no doubt his father would blame him for his pregnancy, say something insensitive and damaging about how Jughead must have wanted the sex, if not the child. He didn't feel like he could go to Mrs. Cooper for help and support now, because she was fucking his dad. He could still hear his dad's phone ringing in the Cooper's kitchen because his idiot father grabbed the wrong phone when he left after his tryst with Mrs. Cooper.

Who did that leave? There was Archie's dad, Mr. Andrews. But he and Jughead's dad had a complicated history. They'd been business partners for a while, when Andrews Construction was called Andrews and Jones Construction. Before Mr. Andrews bailed Jughead's dad out of jail one too many times, and considered posting bail when Jellybean was born to be a buy out, and Mr. Andrews wrote Mr. Jones out of the company. Besides that awkwardness, Jughead didn't really talk to Archie. Archie tended to side with the bullies who considered Jughead to be a freak.

Betty was really his only ally. But there wasn't much Betty could do beyond the moral support she'd always given him without question. And as amazing and important as that was, she wasn't really in a position to do a whole lot to actually help him with his problem. She could hold his hand, and that was important, he needed that. But she was a kid just like him. She wasn't in a position to give him the full range of support he needed.

He needed his dad. But that wasn't going to happen, and he knew it wasn't going to happen. His dad didn't support him, he sure as hell wasn't going to support him through pregnancy. It wouldn't matter than he was raped, that he didn't want it. He knew his dad wouldn't care about any of that. His dad was not someone he'd ever been able to go to for support, and that wasn't going to change now.

He sighed and shifted his position, groaning in frustration when he didn't really have the room to stretch out like he wanted to. He defaulted back to the position he'd been in, curled up and cramped in the small space he had available. Sleeping in a car, in Betty's car, was less than ideal, but they had $27 between them. Barely enough to buy dinner, nowhere near enough to buy a night in a hotel. He had no idea what they were going to do come morning, but he had to get through the night first, and that was starting to feel like an impossible task.

"You awake?" Betty mumbled from the back seat.

"Can't sleep," he confirmed. He sat up, and tugged his beanie into place on his head.

Betty ran a hand through her hair. "Me either," she admitted. Neither of them had had to sleep in the car before. It was one thing to sleep when on a long drive, but to have nowhere else to go changed the dynamics. "I need to stretch my legs. How about a walk?"

"Yeah." The streets of Riverdale weren't entirely safe after dark, especially with the Black Hood on the loose, but this was their home. He wasn't going to let a masked serial killer on the loose keep him from stretching his legs and letting Betty stretch hers. He pushed the door open and climbed out of the car, stretching as he did so. He waited for Betty to get out and stretch, then slid his arm in hers and let her lean her head on his shoulder.

"You were talking in your sleep a little bit ago," Betty said after they'd walked a bit in silence.

"Do I even want to know what I was saying?"

Betty sighed. "Probably not. You were distressed. I almost woke you up."

"I'm sorry." He lifted his free hand to paw at his jawline. He really didn't want to burden Betty with his drama.

"It seemed like you were reliving..." she let her voice trail off. It was an awkward subject, and she wasn't entirely comfortable bringing it up or prodding him to talk about it. She wanted to give him the space he needed, allow him to talk about it in his own time. She just wondered if that time would ever come. Given the nature of his apparent nightmare, she didn't blame him for not wanting to talk about it.

"I don't want to talk about it, Betty." Jughead sighed and shifted his focus, his eyes looking to the horizon.