Meant To Be

22

A week. Seven Days have passed since he opened his eyes. Seven Days that the Sun for some reason understood his sorrow because it stayed hidden, unable to shine like its supposed to. The dark grey clouds have painted the sky and you can smell the rain in the air. Thunder makes its way every afternoon, and as sad and gloomy as it is outside...that is exactly how it feels inside. 

Everything has become too much. The weight of everything has fallen on my shoulders. Was it fair?, No it wasn't. Was there any other choice?, no there wasn't!. I did what I had to do to keep them all safe. But dealing with everything at the same time is overwhelming. 

He doesn't think I pay attention, but I do. I've notice the painful blank stare on his face when Vince carries him down the stairs. I've notice the way he carefully wheels over to his studio, and looks at me while I pretend i'm too busy looking into the so familiar red folders of the factory. I've noticed the way he drowns his tears in Whiskey every day since he wakes up till he is carried back to the second floor. He has become a shadow, he is drunk almost all the time and he has become aggressive. Michael and I have moved to the other room, it was hard at first for him, but he feels safe because I am there, Archie on the other hand didn't even noticed we were gone. He stares deep into empty space, Jughead is the one that helps him shower and has tried to help him shave, but Archie has decided against it, he is now scruffy, with his hair all over the place...and his soul nowhere to be found. 

My father has asked me several times to step down and let him take over the council, but doing so would only mean betraying Archie, and regardless of everything...that was something I was not wiling to do. I wanted to be in his life, to make him understand that we do not care if he can walk or not, that we are only glad he is alive. He sees us as his enemy and that couldn't be farther from the truth. 

"You know...last I've heard, whiskey is not listed as a healthy breakfast"

He was sitting outside on the back porch, the cold air of February hit her face like a brick, she tossed a heavy blanket around his shoulders yet he didn't bother to turn and look at her. She could see the cloud of warmth air escape his mouth as he breathe. She walked around to face him, slowly but surely grabbing the bottle from his hand. He fought her, but eventually let go. On his eyes, the sadness of his soul was reflected. 

Caressing his cheeks she rested her forehead against his, on a desperate attempt to make him listen...to make him understand. He closed his eyes for a second, his hands  softly grabbed hers, taking them to his dry lips, he pressed a sad kiss on each one. 

"Don't do this to you...to us"

"Just let me be"

"No!, not like this...this isn't you"

"Veronica look at me...This IS me!"

"The Archie that i know...fights"

" I am not that man anymore"

"Yes you are!, deep down I know, Archie...this isn't you, you don't give up...please don't give up!"

She sounded desperate...she WAS desperate, to see him be himself again. She would take a thousand years of fights with him, than to see him like this.Miserable. Archie Andrews was Miserable and she couldn't do anything about it, but pressure him wouldn't do any good, so against her will, she stepped away, without saying another word, but taking the bottle with her. 

The sound of stilettos echoed inside the Andrews Manor as Veronica made her way towards the kitchen where Carmen was serving coffee to the guards, she could hear Jughead's voice commenting on the cold weather, her stomach was grumbling, she was hungry...for food...for Archie. 

She missed him, every aspect of him. Since he was on a very complicated state, asleep...in a coma or whatever you want to call it, she missed him deeply...and now she misses him more knowing that he is awake, but he would not bother to look at her...not even once. It hurt, this has taken a toll on everybody in this house,

"I want every single bottle of whiskey in this house thrown away, at his second...Now!"

Everybody stood quiet and left the kitchen with their heads down. Jughead however smiled at her, he raised his cup to his lips then took a deep breath.

"who peed in your cheerios?"

"Not funny Jones, perhaps you should take that little sense of humor and shove it up your..."

"woah! whats gotten into you?"

"its Archie, he doesn't listen to me"

 "When has he listened to anyone?"

"this is not funny, he wakes up drunk...goes to bed drunk, he has given up and you...you have done absolutely nothing to help me on this"

" Archie doesn't need a babysitter, he needs space to process everything"

"space?, how much freaking space can a person need?"

"Its not easy Veronica, he was an active man, he could walk...run, come and go as he pleased...he could...you know...(he lowered his voice) be with a woman...he feels useless, not himself...and i get that"

"I get it too Jughead but this, what he is doing is not only hurting him but all of us"

"fine...Ill talk to him again, but Veronica...sometimes you just have let him be...he will come to his senses"

"and what if he doesn't?"

"he will"

"But what if he doesn't?"

This time i heard my own voice crack, a single tear dropped down my cheek, I felt Jughead's arms around me, and he hugged me tight. For  Second I didn't feel alone, he has become a good a friend...Betty was sure lucky to have him. 

I wanted so many things, I wanted for Archie to be ok, for him to look at me...to actually look at me and smile, and I want him to hold me...to kiss me till we are both out of air, we both got into this hating each other but now that he is in my life...as my husband, and everything that we have shared, there is no more hate...there's actually...compassion and perhaps something more. 

I want to help him be himself again. I Need him to get better again.