In Your Arms

In Your Arms Chapter Three: The Cold, Hard Reality

Jughead's POV...

     "Well what can we do? What're the treatment options?" I question, and Betty kisses my shoulder to tell me to calm down.  Instead of calming down, though, I just take one of my hands and rub the back of her neck.
     "Well we'd like to start treatment right away, since this tumor is unable to me removed because of the place it's attached to on the brain.  So, Betty, you'll be hospitalized here and will have to stay this way until you get better," she informs us.
     I know Betty and I are both thinking the same thing: What are the chances that she will get better? The Neurologist then looks at me, scratching the side of her neck nervously, "Could I speak to you outside, sir?"
     I nod, and kiss Betty on the forehead before she unravels her hands from around my waist and lets my hand slip out of her weak grasp as I stand up and walk outside with the Neurologist.
      She closes the door and sighs, "I'm going to be very straightforward, Mr.  Jones," she begins, "Betty's chance of surviving is very, very slim considering the toxicity, area, and stage of the tumor.  Sadly, you may want to start preparing a funeral for her since the hypothesized time she has left is at maximum two weeks.  I'm so, so sorry."
     Shock strikes me, the wind being knocked out of me and my breath vanishing, escaping my body as if I'd just been punched in the stomach.
     I shake my head, "No, no she's a fighter, she'll survive this," I croak in denial, my blue eyes stinging with tears as some begin escaping from them.
     "Mr.  Jones, I'm sorry, truly, I am.  There's not much we can do except to wait for her to pass away.  As painful, and heartbreaking as it is," she says.
     I shake my head more vigorously, scoffing a broken scoff, "You're giving up on her?"
     "No, no, no, of course not sir! We'll start the treatments no matter how ineffective they may be, and perhaps some sort of miracle will happen since we are unable to preform a surgery to remove it," she assures me.
     "So you won't give up on her? You'll at least try to make sure she'll make it through this?" I ramble, wiping some tears from my eyes.
     She nods her head, "We'll try to do everything we can, Sir, you just might want to make funeral preparations in case the more likely outcome—Betty solemnly not surviving the deadly impact of the tumor—takes place."
     "Okay," I say, exhaling shakily, wiping away the remainder of my tears.
     "We'd like Betty here at about 10:30 a.m. tomorrow to start treatment as soon as possible, and to give her more than just a 6% chance of survival," she gently tells me.
     "Betty and I have a daughter together and I don't intend to leave her side during her time at this hospital, doctors office, place.  Is it possible to get some sort of crib in here for our two-month-old? I don't think Betty would like to be separated from Juliet during this time.  Especially since she..." I swallow, cutting myself off and holding back more tears.
     "Of course, Mr.  Jones, we'll have a crib delivered to her room, which is room 211.  You and Betty are free to go for the night and gather your belongings for the—hopefully—long treatment ahead," she shakes my hand and walks away.
     I stand at the door and collect myself before I creak it open and saunter inside, closing it behind me.  I look at Betty who looks up at me, and I can tell she already knew what the conversation was about.  Sometimes I wish she wasn't so damn smart.
     "Hey Baby," I whisper, holding out my hand and helping her to her feet.  I pull her in for a hug and she sobs against my chest.

Betty's POV...

     Jughead and I arrive home late at night after agonizingly explaining to Archie and Veronica what the results said, and how we're going to progress with my...treatment.  Veronica insisted that we stayed for dinner since she had more than enough food to go around, and we decided to join them.
     Jughead and I take off our light coats along with Juliet's, hanging them on the coat rack next to the front door.  I walk upstairs, holding her small body against my chest and stepping foot into her nursery.  I gently kiss her head, her sleeping body being placed ever so carefully in her crib.  Tears brim my eyes as I think to myself, This could be the last night I ever spend in my house, with my baby, and with my husband.
I think about the present I made for Jughead to give to him on our anniversary, locked away securely in the white wooded drawer that sits next to our bed. I take one last loving glance at Juliet for the night before walking into our bedroom, where I see Jughead sobbing on our bed. My heart shatters at the sight, tears immediately escaping my green eyes when I see tears streaming down his cheeks from his icy blue ones.
I walk up to him, sitting next to him on the bed and rubbing his back. He jumps at the contact, snapping around in surprise. I guess he didn't hear me walk inside of the room.
"Baby," I whisper lovingly, taking him in my arms and playing with his messy hair as he rests his head in my lap, his beanie laying on the ground across the room. He must've thrown it.
"It's okay, it's okay," I soothe, my voice cracking.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Betts. I'm supposed to protect you, make sure nothing bad happens to you and I failed.." he sobs.
I interject before he can say more, "Juggie, this isn't your fault, okay? Don't you dare blame yourself. You couldn't have known. I, on the other hand didn't pay much attention to the headaches. I could've gone to the doctor sooner like you asked of me and.."
"No, no stop it. Please Betts, don't blame yourself, either," he cuts me off, sitting up and wiping away the river of salty tears running down his cheeks.
"I know, but if you think about it.." he stops me from talking by gently pressing his lips against mine.
I straddle his lap, parting our lips to deepen the kiss as I run my hands through his dark brown hair, his hands holding and rubbing my back. If this is the last night that I can spend in this house, the last night that I'm able to have intimacy with the love of my life, I damn well will make sure that Jughead and I both make the most of it.
Our lips continue to lock, our tongues twisting with one another's and grazing the bottoms of each other's lips. He breaks away for a moment, looking into my eyes as he sees the heated expression them, the same expression in his crystal blue ones.
"Baby, are you sure you want to do this tonight?" he whispers.
I nod, and without saying anything I aggressively collide my lips with his once more, guiding his hands to the bottom of my sweater. He reluctantly lifts it up and over my head as I quickly tug off his "S" T-shirt, discarding it onto the ground next to my sweater. I press my body closer to his bare torso, his head leaning down as he kisses my neck. I let out a quiet moan, rustling his hair and resting my forehead on his shoulder as he deeply kisses my neck.
His hands slide against my back, and I exhale a deep breath as I hear the satisfying "click" of my bra unclipping. He slides it off my shoulders for me, placing it on the ground as he kisses down my neck, down my shoulder, down my chest until the gets to my breasts.
We spend the rest of the night in each other's arms, our minds temporarily drifting away from the cold, hard truth of reality as we get lost in one another's embrace.
I wish we could spend all eternity like this. I wish this night could last forever, so we don't have to ever let go of each other. So we can stay together. So we're not separated. So we don't have to worry about death racing toward me. So every second we spend together, we won't have to fret that it's the last second that we're both alive, and in each other's arms.