Blood of My Blood, Flesh of My Flesh (Bughead)

Halloween

FP was glad he was not in wolf form. If he was, all anyone would hear right now would be a record replaying the word 'fuck' over and over and over again.

He needed to find Joaquin and Sweet Pea and lock their memories so that the other wolves did not see that Jughead knew. Or, he needed to forbid them from turning until he figured out how to break this.

And what now? You didn't find out unless you triggered the curse. Those were the rules for everyone.

Did he contact Penelope to make a memory wiper? Did he convince Betty to make one out of the respect and love she had for his son? Did he try to snap Jughead into the curse another way, one that didn't involve killing? Did he allow him into the pack as an honorary member, despite being completely non-magical as of now?

The questions were endless and so consuming he did not notice someone approach him.

"FP. As block captain of the Neighborhood Watch, I am obligated to ask you what you're doing on this side of town."

FP knew that voice anywhere. He wasn't sure whether to scream 'fuck' to the skies or laugh. But he bottled up all his worries to turn, offering a roguish smile.

"Neighborhood Watch. Makes sense," He said.

"What are you doing-," Alice began to repeat again, louder.

"It's Jughead's birthday today." He said.

He wasn't sure if Alice would back off, but he was unsurprised when she just lifted her chin higher, "The party seems to be over. And you have no business over here anymore."

"Don't act so high and mighty, Alice. You may not live on the Southside anymore, you may not dress from the Southside, but we both know the truth," He leaned in, enjoying the way her face twitched as he made cracks in her composure, "Snakes don't shed their skins, and wolves don't shed their pelts."

Alice's jaw locked hard, "Goodnight, FP," She hissed, "Leave."

FP raised his hands up, a surrender motion, "You're still fine as hell, Alice. Too bad you've turned into a bad copycat of a Stepford wife." He said, not even needing to look to know that that insult hit exactly his mark.

He missed riling Alice up.

XX

Betty lay sprawled in Jughead's arms on the couch-to-pullout-bed that had been set up in the living room. Maybe it was for them, maybe it had been intended for someone else. It didn't matter; no one else had come to claim it, so for this slice of a moment, it was theirs. Her cheek was against his shoulderblade and he wrapped a protective arm around her, as though trying to shield her from the knowledge of everything he knew. His brain was running a thousand miles per hour.

She yawned and Jughead gave a soft, warm smile down at her. He knew she couldn't stay here the whole night, but what was the harm of an hour or two? He'd wake her...he was not going to be sleeping tonight, if ever again.

"Whew! What a party!" Sweet Pea said, coming in to raid the remainder of the food.

"Shh!" Jughead hissed at him. Sweet Pea turned, catching Betty's weary eyes and drowsy expression and nodding knowingly. He sat down on one of the remaining couches, about to eat, but Jughead sent him a thousand-watt glare. Sweet Pea pursed his lips.

"Right, right. Yeah, you know, I have shit I need to do anyway." He said, gathering his foot quickly, making a bee-line toward the kitchen, "You just, ah, yeah," he waved a hand to dismiss his own half-thoughts. Jughead was pleased he was giving them this little bubble of a moment.

Betty stirred on top of him, "And all this time, I thought you were a lover, not a fighter."

Jughead stared ahead, his heart pounding and his hands aching, "I'm both." Or, rather, there was something inside of him, something snapping and growling and inhuman, "The party was nice until it wasn't," He said after a second, "But that's not on you."