In Your Arms

In Your Arms Chapter Two: The Diagnosis

Jughead's POV...

     We drive back to the house, the air silent—with the exception of the revving engine and the loud breeze that pours in through the car window as we pass the trees.  I hold Betty's hand with my right one, steering the vehicle with my left and exhaling, my eyes never leaving the road as I'm numb with lack of emotion. 
     Betty remains quiet, staring out the window and rubbing her thumb on the back of my palm.  She rests her head on her seatbelt, letting out a quivering sigh while she closes her emerald green eyes.  I gently squeeze her hand, in a comforting attempt to calm her, though it doesn't seem to change the tension, and utter shock in the car.
     We pull up to Veronica and Archie's house, and I inform Betty that I'll go get Juliet, and for her to stay in the car.  I kiss her temple and unbuckle my seatbelt, unlocking the car and climbing out of it.  I sigh and gently close the door, walking up to the house's front door.  I knock on the hollow wood and a few moments later Archie opens it, and invites me inside.  I reluctantly glance back at Betty, sighing and then nodding my head.  I step inside their big house— which is way bigger than ours—and close the door behind me, smiling when I see Juliet resting in Veronica's arms, fast asleep.
     "How'd everything go?" Veronica whispers as I gently take Juliet from her arms, cradling her in mine as I sit in the chair across from her.
     Archie sits down next to her, placing his hand on her large 9-month baby bump.  I sigh, "It..."
     They both look up at me, failing to suppress the worry on their faces while I shake my head, "Based on the symptoms she described to the doctor, he thinks it's best to see a Neurologist in case she has a...brain tumor," I inform them solemnly, choking back tears as I glance down from their faces and instead at Juliet.
     "Oh my god..." Veronica whispers.
     "Could it be cancerous?" Archie questions me.
     My eyes remain on Juliet as I answer, "There's a possibility that it could be, yes, and it also could've been growing for years without her noticing it.  She'll need an MRI to find out whether it's cancerous, and to see how long it's been growing."
     "How is she taking the news?" Veronica asks, concern clear in her tone.
     "Not so well, she hasn't spoken a word since we left the doctor's office," I answer honestly, "Speaking if which, I should probably take Jules back to the car and head home.  It's been a long day for everyone."
     Veronica nods, "Of course, make sure she's doing okay."
     I nod as well and stand up, Archie standing with me and opening the door while I sling the bag of Juliet's items over my shoulder.  I nod a goodbye to him and step outside, where I see Betty wiping away a salty river of tears, black mascara smudged underneath her eyes and covering her fingertips.  I sigh and open the back door, carefully placing Juliet down in her car seat and securely buckling her in.  I peck an affectionate kiss on her forehead before closing the door, walking back up to the drivers side and climbing in.
     I look at Betty, her beautiful, blonde hair tied up into a high ponytail and the side of her head resting on the seatbelt that's strapped across her body.
     "Betts?" I whisper and she looks at me, her face stained with tears and her nose red.
     "Yeah?" She croaks, her voice cracking as she talks.
     "Talk to me," I urge, taking her hand in both of mine and kissing hit, still looking at her.
     She shakes her head, a sob escaping her pink lips, "I'm scared," she sniffles, "Not of dying but of losing you and Jules."
     I shake my head also, kissing her hands once more, "Baby, we don't know if it's cancerous, or if you even have one. But if you do and it is you're a fighter.  You won't lose Jules or me."
     "How can you know that?" She questions me, nodding and letting more tears stream down her rosy cheeks when I don't respond.  "See? You can't.  You can't 100% know or promise that I'll be okay."
     "I have faith," I answer, tears starting to well up in my eyes, though I hold them back refusing to let them fall.
     "Let's- let's just go home," Betty responds, swallowing and pulling her hands out of my gentle grasp and wiping her face again, returning to her previous position—resting her head on the seatbelt and staring blankly out the window of the car.

     They take Betty away to perform an MRI and leave me sitting in the room we were recently brought into, tapping my foot anxiously against the tiled floor.  My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket to see a text message from Archie.

A: Hey, how's Betty?

J: She's scared, but was just taken back to have the MRI done so we'll know more once the results get in.

A: Okay, keep Ronnie and me updated, please.

J: Will do, I'll text you once we know more.  How's Jules doing?

A: Good, she's taking a nap right now and we just fed her for the tenth time that she's been here 😂

J: Haha, well we know that she's my daughter, alright.

A: Definitely! Now Ronnie and I are going to spend some time alone for a bit.  We'll be waiting for your text regarding the results to Betty's MRI.

J: Okay, I'll be sure to let you know.

    
     I sigh, shutting my phone off and placing it back into my jean-jacket pocket.  I take my beanie off and throw it on the floor, running my hands through my dark, messy hair nervously as I await Betty's return.
     About fifteen minutes later—which in all honestly feels like it was fifteen years—Betty walks back into the room, and the Neurologist the last doctor recommended followed.
     Betty sits in the chair next to me, not wanting to sit up on the cot and rests her head on my shoulder.  The Neurologist smiles warmly at us, "We'll be back in about a half and hour once the results of the MRI are in," she informs us.
     "Thank you," I reply and she nods, walking out of the room and closing the door behind her.
     I look at Betty, her arms hugging my torso while she bites her lip nervously.  I kiss her forehead and then her hair, wrapping my arms around her torso as well and rubbing her back comfortingly.
     We remain silent for the lengthy half and hour we spend waiting, and soon a half hour turns into forty five minutes, and forty five minutes turns into an hour.  Finally the doctor returns, though her sadden expression makes more worry strike through me, as well as Betty.  (I can tell because when she eyed the doctor she tensed up and squeezed my body tightly.)
     "So? What'd the results say?" I question as soon as she closes the door, not missing a beat.
     The doctor sighs, sitting down on a stool across from Betty and me.  "We double checked, but it was nearly impossible to miss.  Betty has a stage four brain tumor known as Glioblastoma, which is rapid-growing and the most dangerous tumor as of today.  Based on the results, we can confirm that it is indeed cancerous . . ."