Bughead I Shots

I'm Sick

Jughead's Pov:
"Jug, come on!" She squealed as we ran up a hill. It was winter time and the snow was softly flurrying. We were by sweetwater river and the trees were frosted with snow, icicles hanging off of the branches. The scene was magical. It was an artist's playground. Obediently, I chased her through the pine trees until I finally caught up to her. We were both freezing, our lungs were burning. It was sensational. She was sensational. And I kissed her there, underneath the pale blue sky on a perfect January day.

~flashback over~
Sadly, time moves without us. Our flesh can freeze out there, in the snow. But as much as we hope, as hard as we pray, and as far as we dare to dream, we cannot freeze any moment in time. If I could've known my days with her might be numbered. I might've done something differently. But no story I could ever write would compare to the story of a life well-lived.

Betty contracted bronchitis shortly after our escapade in the woods. At first it was mild. She was taking some light treatments that seemed to be useful, her fevers went down, she was regaining her lung capacity. Everyone was living as they normally did and Betty wasn't about to let a minor health malfunction get in the way of her continuing to move throughout life. When it seemed she had completely healed, we saw no need for the minor check-ups anymore. As anyone would. Betty fell ill about 3 weeks after she had supposedly "healed." And it turned out her bronchitis hadn't gone away but instead, it lingered and became a chronic issue. So she was put on some treatments to help her regain her health. The doctors wanted her to be kept under a close watch but saw no reason to hospitalize her. Later that night, she began coughing. I had never heard her cough like this before but she was wheezing and was hardly able to sit herself up. I ran her to the emergency room. She was battling severe pneumonia along with her bronchitis and her lungs were only working at 50% capacity. They put her on oxygen and started her on breathing treatments. That leads us to now. It's been two days since Betty was admitted into the hospital. Now, she relies on a ventilator machine. How can someone's life so drastically change in the blink of an eye? Before you know it those perfect moments become fragments in time and you're facing a harder truth.

I sit by her beside. I watch her sleep. I hear the beeps of her heart rate. I smell the anti-bacterial sprays and latex gloves. I just want her to heal. I just want to fix her, to make her better again. But all I can do is pretend I'm in control right now. The only possible way of getting close to freezing a moment is remembering everything about it until it's always there in your memory. So that's what I do. That's what I've done every day she's been in here. I place my hand on top of hers. I feel the IV rub against my palm and my fingers lace over hers. I smile at her. She's breathtaking. It doesn't take long before she has a wheezing attack and begins coughing uncontrollably. I haven't gotten used to it. Everytime she coughs or gasps for air my heart stops in fear that hers will too. I just hold her hand tightly and hold back the tears. Soon a doctor rushes into the room and prepares her for a breathing treatment. Once Betty is finally able to regain her breath, she smiles at me.

"Hey Jug." She wheezes out, squeezing the hand I've kept on her for so long. A lump builds in my throat and my eyes sting,

"Hey Betts." I reply, trying hard not to begin sobbing. I can tell her circulation is bad because her face is almost blue and her hands feel like dead weight. She tries to start a conversation but is interrupted by a fit of coughing. I wince at the sound and squeeze my eyes shut until the coughing finally ceases. She gasps for a breath of air before saying,

"I feel a lot better today." She chuckles through her wheezing and my tears begin to travel down my face. I sniffle and laugh at her attempt to be comedic during times like these.

"You're going to be okay Betty." I choke the words out before the tears flow uncontrollably. I bring my chair closer to her hospital bed and lay my free hand on the side of her face.

"I will make sure." My voice quivers and my once steady hand becomes shaky. As weak as she is, she reaches toward my face and gently begins to wipe tears away. Of course this attempt only brings more tears but she doesn't fail to wipe those ones away too.

"I know Juggie." She responds before resting her hand on one of my cheeks. She leaves it there for a moment and stares into my eyes. Then the moment is over and abruptly interrupted by her awful wheezing and breathing attacks. Doctors flood into the room and tend to Betty. I try to stay calm until it lasts over two minutes and the attacks only continue. Her heart rate picks up and the doctors try to escort me out of the room. I try to resist their urge until one looks me straight in the eye and says,

"Jughead we will take care of her. Rest." I stand there for just a moment and stare at her as she helplessly gasps for air. It breaks my heart to leave her. I am now completely sobbing and only manage to whisper the words,

"I love you." Before exiting her room.