Days went by as the search for Reggie proceeded. Moose, Betty and Jughead had looked everywhere for the boy singlehandedly, coming to the conclusion that involving anyone else would only put them at risk. They had casually asked around about Reggie's location and come out empty-handed. And it didn't help that there was some obvious tension between two of the parties.
Jughead and Betty had barely spoken during those days, only communicating when necessary to their mission. If you asked Jughead his opinion on the matter, he'd simply note it as agony. Not talking to the girl was really taking a toll on him, and to be completely honest, he missed her. She was there, right in front of him, but he missed her.
Jughead missed the way Betty laughed at his stupid and un-funny jokes and puns. He missed the way her eyes filled with adoration and her mouth curled up into this adorable little grin when they had an emotionally-intimate moment. He missed the way her blonde locks would fluff around his bare arm when she curled into his waist at night, acting as an extra blanket. He missed the sound of her voice when it comforted him. He missed her eloquence and the way he could practically see a lightbulb above her head when she added puzzle pieces together. Jughead missed Betty Cooper. And he would fix this. Even if it killed him.
The dark-haired Serpent watched as his girlfriend's teeth bit down on her lip in concentration, the plump flesh throbbing around them. They stood in the Blue and Gold office, staring at the board in front of them. It used to be known as their 'murder board', but now it was labelled with 'Where's Reggie?'. The cursive, red ink seemed to taunt the pair as each and every lead they'd had was proven useless, multiple crosses throughout. They were missing something.
"We're missing something." Betty spoke, crossing her arms in frustration. She hated feeling helpless at finding Reggie, especially as he'd done so much to help her.
"But what?" Jughead sighed walking up to the board, tugging on a stray rubber band in his hand. Betty stayed silent.
He wanted to talk to her. Of course he did. But he knew that what he'd said had hurt, even if he didn't mean it the way she took it. However, that wasn't the only reason he wasn't talking to her.
Jughead felt guilt. He was overwhelmed with the alarming exhaustion of what his secret was. The secret he'd been keeping from before Nick and Al hurt them. Right through to the hospital, the miscarriage, the weeks after. Until now.
Betty wasn't even talking to him when it came to personal issues. He didn't know when she would forgive him. But he did know this: he couldn't keep this secret in forever. Jughead needed to confess. Betty told her pregnancy secret, he needed to tell his. It was tearing him up inside.
Silence swarmed around the pair, the board blurring his vision slightly as Jughead's eyes glared into it. Nervously, he cleared his throat.
"Look, Betts," he began, facing her as she peered at him. He could have sworn he saw a look of relief flash in her eyes, but he couldn't hold back. He needed to come clean. "I know we're not on the best of terms right now, and I know I hurt you-"
"No, it's fine Jug. I'm not crazy, and I know you didn't mean it that way. It's okay-" Betty cut him off before he followed suit. Her words made a lump form in his throat.
"I don't want you to forgive me, okay? Because it will be easier if you're angry at me for what I'm about to say." Jughead swallowed and Betty suddenly frowned, detecting there was more to the situation.
"Everything that happened to us, to you... it really is my fault." He drifted his eyes away from hers, ashamed of the words he would force himself to speak.
"Jughead. We've been through this-" Betty attempted to soothe him but he pulled away, startling her.
"You don't understand. It is because of me. I... I know I need to tell you. You deserve to know, and I can't keep this inside, it's fricking eating me alive!" The beanie-clad boy's outburst shocked the blonde as she watched all of his negative emotions prick at his dilated pupils like metaphorical pins. Jughead noticed this and grabbed her hands comfortingly, engulfing them with his. He stared at them, running circles over her palms with his thumb, tracing the faint, small moon-shaped scars. "You're not gonna love me anymore. You're going to hate me for what I've done."
