𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀, 𝐣𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. [1]

13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE SWEET HEREAFTER
WARNING: VERY MILD SEXUAL CONTENT
∘∘∘

THE NIGHT WAS SPENT IN HYSTERICS. Nancy was sobbing and comforting her sobbing daughter simultaneously. They still couldn't believe that Clifford was the one who killed his own son. Who tried to kill Sloane.

It was a lot to take in. Nancy still isn't up to going out in public just yet.

Sloane finds herself at the police station. She enters just as Jughead's leaving but he stops her.

"Whoa, what are you doing here?" Sloane raises at brow at his question.

"I'm just going to say a few words to your dad. Then I'll be on my way."

"Why?" He asks warily.

Sloane sighs. "Regardless of what happened, I don't want to walk around feeling like I don't have all of the facts. So, I'm clearing it up."

"You're . . . you're serious?" Sloane rolls her eyes and continues into the station. Jughead follows her. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"I appreciate your concern, Jug, but I think this is a discussion that needs to be between the two of us," She says. She stops and faces him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll let you know if I need emotional support later. Okay?" With that, she turns on her heel and approaches the desk, asking for the Sheriff.

∘

FP doesn't seem surprised when Sheriff Keller lets Sloane into see him. He just looks at her neutrally.

"I told Keller that you saved me. If not for you, that guy would have killed me." After a beat of silence, she speaks again. "What, nothing to say?"

"What do you want me to say?"

Sloane shrugs and paces slowly in front of the cell. "I want to know what my uncle asked of you, and what he told you about me."

"Shouldn't you be at school?" FP mutters, leaning back against the wall.

"This is more important." She answers sharply.

He raises an eyebrow. "You sure you wanna know, trouble?"

"Talk. You owe me that much."

FP takes a breath. "He told me he had sent you as a last chance for Jason to stop on his own. He said if you failed, Mustang could feel free to shut you up, or go after your mother later. Uncle of the year."

Sloane just stares at him.

"It's not easy to hear that you're related to a monster, is it?"

"I imagine it would be harder if I actually liked the guy. But yes," Sloane admits, "It's difficult."

FP looks at her. "I'm sorry this happened to you, kid."

"I'm not," Sloane mumbles, looking down at her shoes. She's wearing the black flats again. "In spite of the terrible experience, if it hadn't happened, I don't think I would have made the friends I did. They . . . care about me. I don't know why but they do. I wouldn't be living as authentically me if I hadn't nearly died." She says. "Your son was a friend to me when I thought I was alone. He didn't just pull that out of his ass. He learned it from someone. Whether it was you or his mom, I don't know. But I do know . . . I don't want this weighing on your conscience."

"Thank you," He says quietly, looking to the floor. "Not many people would do that."

"I'm not most people. At least, that's what I tell myself," Sloane smiles. Her face turns serious. "Don't tell Jughead about . . . this. Can't have him thinking I actually give a shit."