the town with darkness | bughead

ch. 15 | there will be blood

To say that Jughead Jones was shocked when Sheriff Keller let him leave the interrogation room without a word of complaint was the understatement of the year. But he almost felt like he was walking on air as he pushed open the doors and stepped outside into the thin afternoon sunlight. Archie and Betty were waiting for him outside along with Fred Andrews. Thankfully his Dad was nowhere in sight.

"Jug! Oh my gosh, are you alright?" Betty called, running up to him and, dislocated shoulder be damned, wrapping him in her arms. He leaned down and breathed in the sweet smell of apple-flavoured shampoo on her hair and sighed. He ran his fingers through her blonde ponytail wishing to stay exactly in this position for the rest of the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I'm fine Betty." He straightened up and turned his gaze to Fred. "Looks like I was working during the week in question. Tearing down some drywall?"

"You're a hard worker Juggie," Fred said with a grin. "Let's head on back, I think four hours at the Sheriff's Department is probably four too many."

"Agreed," Jughead replied, letting out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. While facing off against FP when he was drunk made him pretty scared, sitting in that room with the Sheriff breathing down his neck had been terrifying. Not to mention the thought that someone could think he was capable of killing a person in cold blood.

They headed towards Fred's car, relief flooding Jughead's veins when a pickup screeched to a halt in front of them and FP jumped out. Jughead stopped dead in his tracks on instinct as FP stalked towards their small group. He looked murderous.

"Uh Dad, what are you doing here?" he asked, feeling like the bottom of his stomach had just dropped out.

"What do you think I'm doing here, Jughead?" FP asked, getting right up in his son's face. "You get arrested and I have to hear about from some...goddamn secretary? You didn't even call me."

"Give me a minute guys," Jughead said before he took a few steps forward, hoping FP would follow him, moving away from Archie, Betty and Fred. He didn't necessarily need Archie's Dad to hear what he needed to say to his father. It worked and the two of them stopped about three quarters of the way to FP's pickup. "Dad, now is not the time. Can you just leave it?" he whispered.

"You givin' me orders now, huh?" FP grabbed Jughead's right shoulder making him wince.

"Everyone goes for the wrong shoulder," Jughead said under his breath, his shoulder starting to throb painfully.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing, just..." Jughead trailed off for a minute thinking, was he really going to say this next bit out loud to his father? "Can you just let go of my shoulder?"

FP looked at him strangely for a moment then tightened his fingers around the swollen joint. Jughead gasped and glared up at his father. "This one?"

"Yeah, that one," Jughead said. He felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. What the hell was he doing, talking back to his Dad like this? "In case you'd forgotten, it was dislocated just a day ago. Get your hand off it."

"You sure you wanna be talking back to me?" FP growled, his grip getting even more agonising if it was possible.

Jughead closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "I honestly don't care right now. I'm too tired. I'm in pain. I just spent half the day at the Sheriff's office trying to explain how I'm not Jason Blossom's murderer-"

"What did you tell them?"

"What? About Jason's murder? Nothing! I don't know anything about it, for God's sake Dad-"

"You want me to drag you home and beat the crap out of you? Huh?" FP said, tugging Jughead further away from Archie, Fred and Betty and towards the pickup. "Cause that's what it sounds like you want with all your backtalk. Goddamnit, I'm gonna take you home and teach you a lesson. Maybe this time you won't forget it."

"What, land me in the hospital again?" Jughead shot back. "Cause you know, the Sheriff asked about that."

"The hell are you talking about?" FP raised his voice.

"Jughead, you alright?" Archie called out but Jughead ignored him.

"Sheriff Keller asked me why I've been beaten up three times by 'unknown assailants'. He's having a hard time believing I'm not being beaten up by someone I know."

"Well I guess you better sell it a bit better then," FP retorted angrily.

"Maybe you should just stop fucking hitting me," Jughead said. As soon as he spat the words out, he knew he'd made one hell of a mistake. FP wasn't crazy, he wouldn't go slapping him around right in front of Archie, Fred and Betty not to mention in the parking lot of the Sheriff's office. But then again, he wouldn't put anything past his father right at this point.

"Get in the truck," FP said, his voice so low, Jughead almost didn't hear him.

"No," Jughead replied, his voice shaking and his hands starting to tremble.

He took a step back and FP lunged. He grabbed Jughead by the throat, spun him around and slammed him up against the side of the pickup truck, knocking the breath from his lungs. Jughead only had a split second to see the shocked and horrified faces of his friends before FP yanked open the passenger side door of the pickup and threw him inside. He landed badly, the gearstick digging into his ribs, winding him a second time. By the time he'd gotten his bearings back, FP was already in the drivers seat. He looked out the window to see Archie and Fred running towards the pickup but it was too late. FP shoved the truck into gear and floored it, throwing Jughead backwards in his seat.

The sped out of the carpark and Jughead turned to his father, trying desperately to slow his racing heart. "Dad, come on, why-"

He was cut off when FP grabbed the back of his head and crashed his face down onto the dashboard. Jughead groaned and his vision swam. He could feel a cut open up across his eyebrow and blood quickly flooded his left eye. He was about to wipe it off when his father smashed his head down on the dash again and everything went black.