Bughead Oneshot

Betty pranced into the bedroom. The morning sun that glowed through the window panes reflected a stunning beam of heavenly rays onto her emerald orbs which sat perfectly proporsional on her face.
"I wrote you a poem" Jughead said, turning his swivel chair in a full 180 degree turn. His doc martens brushed her hair behind her ear as he smiled soulfully.
"Oh golly jee!" She proclaimed in horror. "Do let hearest please dearest. My ear holes are waiting."
Jughead cleared his throat of his raging tuberculosis as he violently unfolded the folded folds.
"Betty," He began. "You.....are.. my wife, and I must tell you what your name means to me."
He passed her the unfolded poem. Her emerald orbs widened as she read it.

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POEM FOR BETTY
BY: JUGHEAD (YOUR HUSBAND)

B-eautiful
E-gg
T-uberculosis
T-sexy
Y-ummy (cause you're so yummy)

THE END
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Betty stood there in awe of the raw artistry before her. Her emerald orbs couldn't hold back anymore. They filled with angelic tears. She couldn't think of words to describe this situation she found herself in.
"Well?" Jughead started, "What do you think?" followed by his tuberculosis attack.
She leaned down and kissed his sweaty forehead.
    "I love it," She gasped. Jugs smile filled his entire face. His uwu eyes looked as happy as they did before his first lung imploded.
    "Well alright sweetheart thanks for the poem, but I've got to get going you see-" she said as she started heading for the door. She felt a clammy hand grasp her forearm. She turned back to face him. His eyes overflowing with tears. There was a pause before he proclaimed.
    "I know this might not be the best time to tell you, since the house is burning down," Betty looked around to search for the flames. "But Betty, I love you and you're pregnant." Betty gasped. "I know, he's a boy." Jughead gasped, triggering another tuberculosis attack. This one lasting longer than the previous ones.
Betty sighed sympathetically.
"I'll go fetch you a glass of water dearest." She said as she exited the room.

    A flaming red headed man in a doctors uniform just like hers approached her in the hall.
"Nurse Betty, how is the patient doing?" He asked handsomely. His chiseled jaw twinkled almost as if morse code for 'I love you Betty'.
    "Not so well I'm afraid. He still thinks I'm his pregnant wife. He told me the building was burning." She unfolded the poem to show Doctor Archie.
    "He wrote me this poem"
Doctor Archie filled with rage. He ripped the paper out of her hand and pulled the machine gun off the hospital wall. As he cocked it he told Betty, 'I think it's time to put him down'. He busted through the door.
    "ARCHIE NOOOO" Betty yelled. As the door opened she saw sweet, sweet innocent Jughead in the midst of a tuberculosis attack, turning his swivel chair a 180 degrees. Before she could stop him, Dr. Archie fired up his machine gun and rapid fired in the room. Bullets tore through the air, he yelled at the top of his lungs as the machine gun swayed from one end of the room to the other. Jughead tried to yell for help, but the tuberculosis just wouldn't stop. He tried to lower his swivel chair to dodge the bullets. His eyes widened as if in slowmo a bullet met his glabella. Though in pain, he survived the first few shots to the head and heart. It was the lungs that got him. It was almost as poetic as his poem for Nurse Betty. The bullets didn't hurt nearly as bad as the thought of his wife raising their son on her own did. The rapid bullets fling him out of his swivel chair onto the ground. All he saw was his beautiful wife Betty kneeling at the doorway, covering her head to avoid the bullets.
    "I love you Betty," He tried to yell, but the tuberculosis was too strong. As he faded away from existence, the last thing he saw was Betty's matte rose petal lips replying back like she heard him. "I love you too Jughead." and with that, the world went dark.
   

    "It's over," Doctor Archie said, covered head to toe in the patients remains. Archie reaches out to her with a caring smile. "You're all mine now, just how it should be."
    Betty stared at his arm on her shoulder before shrugging it off and dramatically pushing it away.
    "No I'm not," she said baring her teeth and reaching back for the machete mounted on the wall behind her. "And it's NOT over yet," Her emerald orbs turned blood red with rage. She lunged forward swinging the machete in her grasp. He quickly ducks to the left. She yelled as she twisted to meet his neck with her blade. One slice, and his redhead tumbled to the ground. Betty breathed a sigh of relief and dropped the machete. She casted one last glance at Jugheads body and walked down the hall leaving the boys behind her.

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A/N
Though this story is 100% true, it has been adapted for clarity. Some characters actions were fictionalized or exaggerated to an extent. Thank you all so much for reading. I spent all my life savings on this piece.