Darlin' ~ FP Jones

Born To Die

Jughead sat with his head against the plastic of his booth at Pop's looking out into the coming fall weather. He didn't pay attention to the welcome bell ring at the door. He didn't pay attention to the boots coming closer to him. He didn't pay attention when the man slid into the booth across from him.

"Hey Jug." FP spoke quietly, there was a hush over the diner that only a spell could break.

"Hey dad," Jughead didn't turn to look, "dressed for the public today I see." He mutters. FP wasn't clad in his usual South Side Serpents jacket as he sat in the diner.

"You know I don't spread the word about that shit." FP looked at his son who rolled his eyes. Jughead's mind didn't want to face the fact that his dad was one of the dreaded serpents, no less the notorious gang's leader. He also didn't want to face the fact that he could find that life somewhat appealing.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" He finally turns to look at his father. FP looked at his son, his face, his eyes, he saw himself in every look.

"I just want to get back into your life Jughead. Please I'm your father." He reached his hand across the table to the boy but he drew back. FP's heart sunk lower and lower in his chest.

"That's just how genetics work dad. But I have to ask, why? Why the sudden interest in me dad? You have never cared before so why now?" FP struggled to find a response for the boy. He didn't know if he was doing this because he was Jughead's father or because Harper thought it was a good idea. He sighed, looking at the boy who was so bitterly angry.

"You're my son. I-I can't imagine losing you, I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you." FP's mind wandered back to Jason Blossom's murder. He couldn't imagine losing his own boy.

"So this is all about Jason then." Jughead looked away, he wasn't sure whether to be hurt or relieved that maybe his father wasn't the killer.

"No, Jughead, this is about you and me. Our family. Getting the family back together." FP's forcefully passionate tone surprised the boy sitting across from him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay then." He sighed, "Well, if you want to get interested in me. I'm writing this piece on the murder. You could read it if you want." Jughead looked at his father hopefully, but his gaze faltered when FP shifted uncomfortably in the booth, avoiding eye contact with his son. Back to normal, thought Jughead.

"You know what, its fine forget it." FP's head snapped back at his son who was crawling back inside himself. He didn't know what to say. How could he explain his involvement with Jason without Jughead assuming he is the killer?

"No Jug, that's not it."

"Then what is it dad? Too hungover to read now?" Jughead rolled his eyes impatiently.

"I just... Just have a lot on my plate right now. How about you drop it by the trailer?" FP tried to make up for his response.

"Don't count on it." FP sighed at his son's response.

"Jug, I'm going to shape up, I promise." Jughead didn't answer. He didn't think he needed to.

"Don't you believe me? Son?"

"No dad. No I don't." Jughead pushed himself out of the booth, throwing a few dollars down for the coffee and leaving the diner. FP sat in the booth, struggling to cope with his son hating him. All he wanted was his family back together. But even then, would he be truly happy? He would have to give up Harper and everything they built. Did FP Jones really want his family, or did he just want love? He turned and watched Jughead exit the diner, pause, and then jog to catch up with a certain brunette who was walking down the sidewalk. FP watched for a moment longer until Jughead caught up with the girl. She turned to him and FP saw her face. It was Harper. He watched as she patted Jughead on the back and began walking again, with him in step with her. FP's blood began to boil slightly within him. Was Harper not telling him something he needed to know?