Jabitha Oneshots

Slipping Away

Set after 6x19, when Tabitha is struggling to deal with the guilt of resurrecting Jughead.

"I can't believe you were planning on leaving me here, alone! Do you have any idea how hard this' all been on me? My diner being blown up, then you nearly being killed the next day. And after all that, being forced to deal with you losing your hearing and living in the bunker, while Veronica constantly talks shit about how single life's so "freaking hard". Did you even realise that I'm struggling to get out of bed without you here? That I'm depressed? Do you even care?" Tabitha finished, slumping back against the sofa and trying to regain her breath.

After a moment she buried her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for yelling. That's not fair on you."

Jughead sat in stunned silence, his girlfriend's words running through his mind. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed- the sad smiles, sentimental comments and tear-filled eyes that he'd attributed to seasonal allergies. Tabitha was slipping away from him day by day and he'd been too wrapped up in his own problems to notice the signs.

He inched closer to where she sat on the other end of the couch, moving the cushions between them aside so there were only a few centimetres separating their bodies. Gently, he ran his hands up and down her arms, silently encouraging her to relinquish the grip she'd formed on her face. When she pulled her fingers away, Jughead was met with the painful sight of her eyes, red rimmed and exhausted, bordered by the tiny, crescent imprints of her nails.

"Tabitha," he started, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

She sniffled, looking up at him doubtfully.

"I was selfish. And a terrible boyfriend. But you have to know, my decision to stay in the Sweet Hereafter wasn't intended to hurt you; believe me, you were on my mind constantly. I just missed the simple things like being able hear the burgers cooking and jukebox playing. Not to mention that I had no worries whatsoever." As he spoke, he noticed a flicker of guilt cross Tabitha's face and he cut himself off. He'd already hurt her enough and had no intentions of deepening the wound.

"I know none of that justifies what I did or what I've been doing since the bomb. But I want to make it right. I'm going to be here for you now, ok? I'm going to be the boyfriend you deserve. Because I love you. I love you, Tabs."

Jughead watched his girlfriend's expression change before his eyes. A glimmer of a smile played across her face, feint, but still present.


"I love you too," she whispered.

He threaded her fingers through his and allowed the quiet of the room to envelop them both like a hug.

Jughead wasn't perfect- far from it. But he cared about Tabitha more than she could ever imagine. He had every intention of helping her recover, just as she had for him.

"So," he asked softly after a few minutes had passed, "Can I make you dinner?"

She sniffled. "Burgers?"


"I think I can make that work."