I Can't Say That I Do

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/31241861.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M
Fandom: Riverdale (TV 2017), Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related
Fandoms
Relationship: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones
Character: Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones
Additional Tags: Childhood Friends, Teenage Rebellion, Insomnia, Feelings, Feelings
Realization, Old Friends, Small Towns, Feels, Family Issues, Pre-
Relationship, Pining, Family Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Coping, Teen
Angst, Pre-Canon, Tumblr Prompt
Series: Part 1 of What's Past is Prologue
Stats: Published: 2021-05-12 Words: 1584

I Can't Say That I Do

by ShirlyGallagher

Summary

Jughead can't sleep, but neither can Betty...

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

Jughead had no business thinking of her the way he did, and he knew it too.

As he lay on Archie's bedroom floor, the air mattress slowly losing air below him, he knew he had
no business silently pining over Betty Cooper the way that he did; the way he always silently had.

He was well aware of the hypocrisy. Truly. The uninterested recluse, the self-proclaimed
relationship hater, the lone wolf outcast, was over the moon for the all-American blonde next door.
A girl who only had eyes for the boy next door turned future star quarterback. The fact that they
were such close friends made everything so much worse and muddled.

He knew had no business caring for Betty the way he did. He knew it, goddammit. But no matter
how he tried, no matter far down he pushed, couldn't bring himself to stop. He had always thought
of her, always sought her opinion above all others, always looked to include her and for a few
fleeting moments, he thought that maybe she felt the same way for him too.

Sighing heavily Jughead counted the posters tacked to Archie's ceiling, suddenly feeling restless
and claustrophobic. He tossed the covers off and sat up, looking over to Archie snoring in his bed
across the room. His friend didn't move as Jughead got out of bed and slid into his pants and socks.
He grabbed his beanie and hoodie before sneaking out the front door of the Andrews' house
undetected. He paused on the porch and pulled on his shoes and jacket.

It was cool and silent as he breathed in the night air, no sound but the soft trill of crickets and the
far-off bark of a neighbourhood dog to ripple through the dark stillness. Jughead listened to quiet
for a moment then descended the stairs quietly, shoving both hands into his jacket pockets as he
walked. His body moved habitually in the direction of Pops, his footfalls quiet but determined.

"Jug?"

The soft call of his name stopped him dead in his tracks. The hairs on his arms and neck stood up,
a feeling he physically shook off. He swung his gaze around himself and caught sight of Betty
sitting on her front porch.

"Betts?" He said softly stepping up the pathway a few paces, "What are you doing out this late?"

The Cooper's house was still and dark, save for a small light on inside the foyer. The street lamps
illuminated the front porch in long shadows of dark and light, highlighting shapes and angels in the
predawn twilight. Betty sat on the top stair, her thick yellow cardigan pulled over her knees, her
arms wrapped around her legs tightly. He could see her bare toes peeking out below the tightly
woven threads of her sweater and wondered how she wasn't freezing cold.

"I could ask you the same." She replied.

"Couldn't sleep." He said stepping in again, the tips of his toes now flush with her bottom step.

As he came closer the tiredness in her normally bright green eyes became unmistakable, and her
typically pristine ponytail was now swapped for a careless braid over one shoulder. By definition,
she looked dishevelled, however, given the gloaming hour that brought them together that night, he
thought it was fitting, if not only slightly unusual.

"Me neither." She replied with a sad smile, "It happens a lot."

Jughead nodded stiffly, "Me too."

"You're staying with Archie again?" She asked with a nod towards the Andrews' house

"I am." His gaze dropped to his feet as he went on, "My parents are fighting. A lot."

"It's bad, huh?"

He nodded again, "I think my mom might leave my dad."

She gasped a little then shook her head and frowned, "What makes you say that?"

Jughead shrugged. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt what he felt or even why he said it aloud.
His parents fought all the time, nothing had changed in that department to make him feel the way
he did now. But something felt far off and looming. Like a volatile storm set off in the distance, a
storm that was only a few miles away from touching down and destroying his home. Everything
that had been going on lately left him reeling. He often felt lost in the thoughts that clouded his
worried mind and the confusing feelings were worse still. He knew he wasn't the world's most
open creature, and because of this people mostly left him alone. Most people didn't bother pressing
him for information, which he appreciated. Archie didn't ask, nor did Fred and Mary was usually
too far away to get involved. But the way Betty looked at him after each question tonight left him
searching for the words to explain himself. He wanted her to know what was going on, he wanted
to let her in, he wanted to let her listen. He knew he could open up to her, deep down he knew
nothing he could say would ever sway her. In any way. He knew her, she was a good friend; a
loyal friend.

He just wasn't sure where or how to start.

So he settled with, "Just a hunch."

She accepted this with a knowing nod, her eyes softening as she spoke again, "I'm sorry, Jug."

"It's ok." He replied with another sad shrug as he pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, "What
are you really doing out here in the dark?" He asked.

"I could ask you the same." She repeated with a smirk.

He felt warmth run up the back of his neck at her playful tone, "I told you. I couldn't sleep. So I
was going to Pop's."

"You skipped that last part." She pointed out.

"Ok, fine," Jughead said as he put his hands up in mock surrender. Her smile made him chuckle
quietly but with all seriousness, he asked, "What's really going on, Betts?"

Betty sighed and shook her head, "I'm waiting for Polly." She repositioned herself, pulling her grip
around herself tighter, her chin balanced on her knees, "She missed curfew tonight, by a long shot.
My mom was beside herself livid. She's since drowned her anger in a bottle of wine and is passed
out on the couch."

Jughead frowned, "It's almost 4 am."

"I know."

"How long are you going to sit here?"

"Till she comes home."

"Betts..."

"This isn't like her, Jug!" She said abruptly, "The way she's acting lately, isn't like my sister."

Betty brought her hands up to her face and buried her tears in her palms. Everything was changing
and it was changing too quickly. She was scared she couldn't keep up. Teenage hormones were one
thing, the angsty rebellion was another, but Betty was starting to feel like she didn't even know
Polly anymore. Like they were growing up, but also growing into different people, and further
apart.

Jughead stood at the bottom of her steps staring helplessly at his sad beautiful friend. He took one
stair up and asked the only thing he could think of, "Do you want me to sit with you?"

Betty looked up through glassy eyes, eyelashes thick with heavy tears and his knees nearly
buckled, "Yea?" She mumbled.

He nodded, quick if not a bit too eager, "Yea."

She wiped her tears off with a quick flick of her wrist and shuffled over to make room for him next
to her. He sat on the top step with a deliberate distance set between them. But as soon as he was
 seated she bridged the gap between their bodies so that their thighs and arms were flush.

"Thanks, Juggie."

"Of course. My tab at Pop's could use a break anyway." He joked, hoping his sardonic humour
would lighten the mood.

It worked. Betty let out a soft chuckle and bumped her shoulder with his playfully.

A comfortable silence spanned between the pair, the far-off clouds and horizon taking on a lighter
hue as sunrise crept in closer. Betty kept close, no doubt keeping to him for warmth. He thought
about offering her his jacket, or his beanie or his arms, however, the last thought freaked him out
so he didn't offer anything. Still, in classic Betty fashion, she didn't fuss or complain, or even fidget
too much as they sat in the cool autumn night.

"Do you do this a lot?" She asked him some time later.

"Sit on a neighbour's step in the middle of the night?" Jughead quipped sarcastically, Betty bumped
his shoulder again, only this time with a bit more force, "I can't say that I do."

She rolled her eyes but kept her body leaned into his now, "No! I mean wandering the streets late at
night."

"Sometimes," Jughead said, trying to downplay the effect her proximity was having on his
adolescent heart. He swallowed thickly before he continued, "Sometimes I just need some air and
before I know it I'm across town in front of Pop's. I just put one foot in front of the other. Most
times it's habitual."

"That's kinda dangerous." She replied with an air of concern to her voice that made him shiver.

He smirked as he looked her way, "Is it though?"

"Yes. Who knows what could happen." She replied softly.

"Here?"Jughead scoffed, "Nah. Nothing exciting ever happens here." He went on, totally unaware
of the turmoil that would overtake their sleepy town in just a matter of a few formidable years.

End Notes

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