Bughead Oneshots

Comeback (Imagination 6)

Three months later

Jughead's P.O.V.

"Juggie!" Betty's angelic voice called from the living room of our apartment.

I walked out of the kitchen and peeked my head around the corner.

Betty and I had both gotten part-time jobs nearby, and that combined with the money my dad gave me, we were able to buy a small apartment for a cheap price. We didn't spend all of my dad's money. We needed to save that for supplies.

Speaking of which, that's what Betty had asked me into the living room for.

"When are we getting the supplies?" she asked. "We need them. Now. We don't have much time."

Betty and I made plans to go back to Riverdale and save the innocent people. According to my dad, not everyone was hell-bent on killing us. There were a few people, not including Archie, who just wanted to help us.

And did.

"Let's go now," I said, grabbing my over-filled wallet and stuffing it into my pocket.

I wish that meant that we were doing good right now, but we really weren't. We had a lot of money, yes, but that didn't mean we could just spend it all. Nothing right now was permanent, not until we rescued everyone that we needed to. After that, we would fly over to the other side of the country and settle there, in a small town, together. Away from Riverdale.

That was the long-term plan.

We could only pray that it would work.

Betty hopped off the couch, slipped on her shoes, and opened the door.

*

"So, we just say it's for hunting?" she asked me as I pulled up into the parking lot.

"I mean, technically, in a way . . . isn't it?"

"Yeah, but we're hunting Hiram, not some animal."

"What's the difference?"

She bit her lip, holding back a laugh, but I could see the worry and distress painted across her features. I felt it, too. This was big. If we screwed up, one tiny little mistake, we would die. We all would.

We walked into the store, eyeing the guns and bullets on display. I had been able to snag fake IDs during our first month here, for this very moment. You're not allowed to purchase guns and hunting rifles if you're eighteen (or under) like us.

"What're you guys looking for?" The man behind the counter asked. He seemed to be the only one there.

"Me and girlfriend are looking to go hunting in the forest near here this weekend. We just need a few things."

Betty picked up an assault rifle and the matching bullets. The man—his name tag read Jonathan—gave her a confused look.

"We're hunting some big animals," she explained as she set it down onto the counter. "We're experienced."

Jonathan didn't look convinced, but he didn't seem like the type to care, either. Turns out I was right, because he just shrugged and watched as we grabbed a few more guns. One for each person we'd rescue, and for each of us, too.

We grabbed assault rifles, shotguns, machine guns, AK-47s, snipers, and pump actions. Any gun that we thought we might need and that wasn't too big.

Jonathan rang us up, and I pulled out my wallet

When he asked for my ID, I gulped, hands shaking as he took the small card from me. He looked from the ID to me and back, then handed it over and told me the price.