“I can’t really imagine a time when it would stop being weird. I like to stay open minded about plots, and all, but usually I draw the line at self insert.” Betty replied. It was just her luck that she wouldn’t end up with superhuman charisma and the key to saving the universe in her pocket upon arriving in an alternate dimension. “How long have you been here? I mean, you’ve both...” She glanced to Juggy. “You’ve been here somehow, but in our ‘timeline’ things were the same. You didn’t just vanish out of thin air. We were just at your dad’s house...”
“That night’s the last thing I remember before this, too.” Jughead replied. It had caused a sea of confusion and doubt when he’d woken up. The fact that he could only remember Betty’s pained look as he’d slipped on the Southside jacket had lingered with him. It had influenced his choices towards things he wouldn’t have normally done, because he’d picked the worst outcome as the most likely. That was how things tended to work in his life, after all. But time had just stopped and she hadn’t gone on to the happily ever after that he’d envisioned. Instead, she’d been frozen in the moment and he’d rushed full speed ahead into destroying their happiness.
“But it’s...been a while here.” Juggy said. He was trying not to let the slide from excitement to guilt become too evident, but the initial relief had fled entirely. All that was left was a mess of confused emotions about how he’d hurt Betty and how it was going to hurt Audrey too. There was no way to walk away from this happy.
Betty had to cling desperately to every shred of decency that had been so carefully bred into her. The suspicion was creeping back to the forefront of her mind, and all she wanted was to stop delaying the inevitable. The admission was going to come sooner or later, that she’d always been nothing but an unobtainable image to Jughead. Betty Cooper, the unrelatable. Better to get it all out now. “And you’ve been...friends...the whole time?” She inquired of them tightly. The implication was clear.