Weirdo - Jughead Jones

32: After

Jughead Jones

***

The sun was too bright for a day that was so horrible. I was squinting and uncomfortable, which didn't show respect at all. It made my stomach hurt.

Archie and Betty left me to step forward, toward the stone. I read her name, carved into it. The grave was new, still a patch of dirt in the middle of a grass field.

"H-hey, Weirdo." My voice was broken and tired. I'd always seen these kind of things in movies, but I'd never thought I would actually speak to a gravestone. "I thought I would know what to say to you, but I don't. I really don't know what to say about anything anymore. I just miss you. So much. I hate it. I hate that we're here now. I hate that I couldn't have been even a minute earlier."

I lowered to the ground and sat across from the stone. "You know, every day I wake up—if I've even slept at all—ready to go be with you. To go talk to you. I constantly forget that I can't just hold you. And every god damn day I wish that I could go back. That I could do things differently. But I can't. And now you're gone."

My shaking was uncontrollable. I wiped my eyes, looking at her name one last time. "I love you, Mads. And I'm so sorry."

***

I jolted awake from my restless sleep, breathing heavily. I immediately looked to find Madison lying in her hospital bed, still unconscious. I breathed a weak sigh of relief to see her there. I then leaned back in the small hospital arm chair and tried to go back to sleep.

Madison Parker

I didn't want to open my eyes for fear of finding myself in another basement. I was lying down. I felt numb, and it seemed like I was swaying and lying still at the same time.

I moved my hands and feet a little; they didn't seem to be in restraints. I slowly opened my eyes. I was in a hospital room.

Remembering what had happened, I looked down and saw bandaging on my side. I remembered the pain. I supposed I was on painkillers now, but I could still feel a twinge from memory.

There was a shuffling noise and a sigh coming from my left. I turned my head to see Jughead Jones sitting in an armchair next to the hospital bed, asleep. 

Relief washed over me. I started to cry because of it. I knew I was finally safe, and the he was, too. I rolled onto my unwounded side to look at him. He was sleeping in what looked like such an awkward and uncomfortable position in the crummy hospital chair. His beanie was off, and his hair fell in front of his eyes. I smiled at his light breathing and reached out to move his hair out of his face.

Jughead jumped and opened his eyes at my touch. His eyes fell on me and I could see the relief in them. "Maddie." When I continued to play with his hair, he took my hand between both of his and pressed it to his lips. He then lowered my hand to his lap and didn't look up for a moment.

"Jug? What happened?"

"We were almost too late," he said softly. "He stabbed you. There was so much blood...."

I squeezed his hand weakly and he squeezed back. "Clifford Blossom." I suddenly remembered. "His syrup is a front. I think he... I think he killed Jason."

"Yeah," Jughead nodded. "We found footage of Cliff shooting Jason. We called the police but...." Jughead paused.

"Did they catch him?"

"He hung himself in his barn." Jughead said. "That's when they found the drugs."

I took a moment to process it, shocked. "What about your dad?" I asked. "He's innocent, right?"

"That's what we're going to figure out tomorrow," he said. "Or today, I guess."

I nodded. We sat in silence for a while. "Are you okay?" I asked him. He didn't respond at first. "Jug?"

He looked up at me and I saw tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry." His voice was so soft and shaking when he said it. It made my heart hurt a little.

"What for?" I asked him.

Jughead looked away and took a moment before saying, "I pushed you away. This wouldn't have happened if—"

"Jughead, no." I stopped him. "You didn't. You needed time."

"But I didn't," he responded. "I thought I did, but I didn't. I needed you. And I wasn't there for for you." He quickly swiped a tear off his cheek, still averting his gaze.

"You're here now," I told him. I reached up and touched his hair again, my hand lightly holding the side of his face. Jughead closed his eyes and leaned into my hand.

We sat there for a moment before I asked, "What time is it?"

Jughead opened his eyes and looked at a clock on the bedside table that I hadn't seen. "Almost one." He yawned, as if knowing how late—or early—it was made him do it.

I had the energy to chuckle and say, "You're cute."

He finally smiled when he looked a me. "Thanks," He said. He leaned forward. "You know who else is cute?"

I smirked rolled my eyes at his cliche response. "Who?"

"Uma Thurman." He smirked.

"Ohhh, I see." I laughed with him. Laughing hurt me a little bit, but it also felt so good. It was the first time in hours, which felt like years, that I had been safe and happy. When it got quiet again it was peaceful and comfortable. Jughead yawned again and I stated, "We should probably sleep."

"You're probably right," he said. Jughead smiled at me again before leaning back in his chair.

"No, don't sleep there." I stopped him. He looked at me, confused. I carefully scooted to the side of the bed.

He smiled softly and stood up. Trying to get into the bed was tricky. He laughed as he awkwardly shuffled into it. Finally he was lying next to me. "Hi."

"Hi." I giggled. I turned and laid partly on top of him, resting my head in the crook of his neck and wrapping one arm around him. We were silent for a while before I spoke again. "I'd say Uma Thurman is more hot than cute."

"Oh, you think so?" Jughead laughed at my bringing the topic up again.

"Yeah. Some people are more hot, and some people are more cute. Uma Thurman is hot," I said. I thought for a moment. "Winona Ryder is cute. Winona Ryder is both."

"Uma Thurman is both," Jughead argued.

"Well, fine," I told him. "You can have Uma Thurman. Winona's mine."

"Fine," he said.

"Fine," I replied.

"Weirdo."

"Dumbass."

He looked surprised at this response and laughed. "We should sleep."

"Yeah," I yawned. I cuddled closer to him and closed my eyes. "I love you, Weirdo."

"I love you, too."