14Cole just needed to distract her for a few minutes, just long enough for Lili and Casey to get KJ out of there. That was it. Pulling away from Lili was one of the hardest things he had to do, but in that moment, it was the only thing that made sense. Logically, he knew that he was making the right decision. His head wasn't right, and he could feel the pressure building in his temples, the piercing pain that made him want to fold into himself, but he couldn't do that. So he did the only thing he could think of - he fought. Veronica was coming and Cole took a running start, meeting her halfway there. From behind him, he could hear Lili screaming, Casey's barking orders, and he hoped that Lili would listen and go, because they had KJ, and if they were able to save him ... it would change everything.
In any other circumstance, Cole would embrace the adrenaline coursing through his veins, would take pleasure in the way his muscles screamed for activity, but the second Veronica's punch landed, the hit to the chest forcing all of the air from his lungs, knocking him immediately to the ground, he had to admit that he'd seen better days.
But he didn't have time to wait, didn't have time to hesitate, because Veronica was still coming, and Cole had to push the fact that this was his sister away as he lifted his legs and slammed them into her stomach, the momentum taking her to the ground, as well.
Jumping to his feet, Cole squared his stance, fighting back a wave of dizziness that slammed into him almost as forcefully as one of Veronica's kicks. Blinking away the fog that was settling over his eyes, Cole narrowly dodged her fist. Shifting quickly to the side, Cole grabbed her head and, after sucking in a lungful of breath, he forced his knee up while simultaneously yanking her head down, the two connecting with a painful clap that it had him flinching. Veronica dropped almost immediately.
Stumbling backward, Cole quickly turned around and started rushing toward the exit of the warehouse. He could see Lili standing there by the car, and while a part of him welled with frustration that she was still there, that she hadn't left, another part of him - the more dominant part of him - was just glad that she was still there, that she was stubborn enough to want to wait. But he should have known it was too good to be true, because he made it ... maybe ten steps before he felt her presence a moment too late, and then there was an explosion of pain in his temples, and before he even knew what was happening, Cole was on the cold, dirty ground of the warehouse with Veronica on top of him.
"No!" Lili's voice cried out, ringing out somewhere in his mind, but all he felt was pain. It was a wonder he was even still fighting - or attempting to. He could barely see straight, the pressure in his temples enough to have his eyes watering.
His fists flew out, and it was merely out of desperation than anything that he was even trying to connect to any part of her body, because Lili still needed to get away with KJ, she still needed a few more moments, and only when Veronica planted her hand on the side of his face and pressed it into the ground did he feel whatever fight he had exit his body as quickly as the adrenaline had surged into him a few minutes before. Cole squeezed his eyes shut and cried out, the pain a burst of colours that flashed across his closed lids, tears welling in his eyes, because goddamnit, it hurt so much.
But then it was gone, Veronica's hand leaving his face, alleviating the exponential pressure that threatened to cause Cole to pass out right there. He sucked in a deep, gasping breath, but the relief was only for a moment, because no sooner was it gone did he feel Veronica's hands wrapping around his wrists, pinning them down to the ground. But it didn't matter, not anymore, because when he looked, the car was gone. Lili and Casey and KJ were gone. He'd done it. KJ was going to be saved and the relief and the utter joy in that moment was enough to have Cole sagging. He didn't try to fight Veronica, didn't try to get free. There was no point.
"You have made a mess, Jughead," Veronica said, her voice only slightly breathless, which wasn't fair, because Cole felt completely depleted of energy. "Father is going to be very displeased with you."
Now that Lili was gone, now that KJ was safe, now that there was nothing left to do, Cole allowed himself to properly look at his sister - or stranger, really. The girl straddling him - or woman, rather - looked exactly like Camila, but also entirely different. It had his heart lurching in his chest, because when had these changes taken place? When had her face aged slightly? When did that flicker of mischief in her eyes dim to something darker? Her cheeks were thinner, not as puffy as they had been when they were teenagers, and Cole felt pressure building in his throat, because he missed this. He missed his sister grow up, mature into a woman. God, how long had it been? His chest started to rise and fall as the panic once again welled up inside of him, and he felt Veronica's grip on his wrists tighten all the more, as though she could sense his growing unease.
"Camila -" he gasped out, but was quickly cut off when she hissed at him.
"Why do you make me do this?" she demanded quietly, releasing one of his hands as she straightened up, retrieving something from her pocket. When she brought her hand back around, Cole's tensed at the sight of a pair of handcuffs. "You always do this, you make me hurt you."
He had no idea what that meant, and he didn't want to think about what that meant, not when she forced his still trapped wrist up, the cuff coming to cinch around his wrist. But before she could properly restrain him, another surge of adrenaline rocked into him. Cole grabbed the back of Veronica's head and forced her down to him, her forehead smacking the concrete ground beside his head. She went limp, her body dead weight across his body, and Cole just laid there, breathing in the scent of her hair, because even if she was a stranger at that moment, she was still his family, still his sister, and the idea of hurting her had a sob ripping through him.
Slowly shifting out from under her, Cole struggled to his knees, the world once again appearing to him in waves, causing his axis to alter whenever he tried to move. Shaking his head, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, Cole gently rolled Camila - because like this, she looked peaceful, calm, exactly how his sister used to look when he'd wake her up to cover a stakeout when his time was up, not like Veronica with her cold, vacant eyes - over and brushed the hair from her face. There was a cut on her forehead, blood seeping from the gash, and it had Cole reaching up instinctively and touching his own nose, feeling the moisture there. Christ, that was still bleeding, too. It couldn't be a good sign, but then again, when have things been good for him?
Looking around, Cole closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Camila's shoulder, trying to calm the fear and uncertainty from his mind. Lili was gone now, speeding away to get KJ to Fred, so he couldn't get them to turn back around. And who the hell knew how long until Clifford came looking for them. He had to do something now, but he didn't know! The old him would have come up with a million ideas and suggestions, but he wasn't him anymore, was he?
His shoulders shook as another wave of pain wracked through his body, and Cole didn't bother trying to save face and conceal the pained cry that forced its way up his throat and out of his mouth. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Spasms were shooting through his back and neck, his head was pounding, and his thoughts were a series of jumbled words followed by clear accuracy, preceded by a collection of both. He wanted to lay down and slip into unconsciousness, but he couldn't do that. Time was running out and he had to figure out what the hell to do, because if Veronica woke up, he wouldn't be able to fight her. He was surprised he was able to slam her head into the ground hard enough to render her unconscious.
Cole lifted his head from her shoulder and wiped his eyes. Looking around the warehouse, Cole was once again ready to start panicking - because Christ, there was nothing! The warehouse was empty and there was nothing that could be used to help him in any way - when his eyes caught the glint of the handcuffs that were beside Veronica's hip.
Cole whimpered out when he realised exactly what he was going to have to do. There was no other way, though. He knew that much. If she woke up, she would overwhelm him, she would overpower him, and he would be taken back to Clifford Blossom, and God, he couldn't go back there. His situation was unique and special, because he was completely alone with no friend or enemy around, and it would not last if he didn't taken advantage of it. But the idea of leaving his sister all alone ... "Goddamnit!"
But he couldn't ... he couldn't wait. Gritting his teeth, ignoring the tears that blurred his vision and the way the world shifted on its head, Cole gently wrapped his arms around Veronica and slowly started dragging her body across the floor of the warehouse until he got her to one of the support poles that littered the interior. He hesitated once more. He wanted to make her comfortable, but he didn't know how. There was nothing here to make her comfortable, and he certainly didn't have anything. Swallowing thickly, Cole forced himself to climb to his feet, his gait unsteady as he retrieved the handcuffs from where they were on the floor. He dropped to his knees once he made it back to Veronica's side, the impact enough to have him doubling over, his hands on either side of his head, the pressure an explosion in his temples, enough to have him whimpering in pain.
His hands were shaking so badly, he could barely get the cuff cinched around Veronica's wrist, and the world was shifting and wobbling and altering his vision so much, Cole had to press both of his hands firmly on the ground to keep from throwing up. Only when he heard Veronica's breathing shift slightly did his head snap up, eyes widening when he saw hers flickering open. And then it was a flurry of activity. Veronica wasn't at a disadvantage like he was, so she was immediately moving when he grabbed her wrist, her free hand balling up and slamming into his side, knocking the air from his lungs. He could do nothing but absorb the blow as he forced Veronica's cuffed wrist up, quickly locking it around the support pole.
She swiped at him again, but Cole quickly scrambled backward, the movement so fast, he lost his balance and fell into a sitting position. He moved back until he was out of her reach, and he sat there frozen as she struggled against the metal, her face contorted into a look of pure hatred as she yanked and pulled and twisted at her wrist, trying to get free. She was like a wounded animal that knew her time was coming to an end, and a wounded animal was always at its most dangerous when it felt threatened. Her movements and her anger were becoming more and more palpable with each second that passed, and Cole ran a frantic hand through his hair, slowly climbing back to his knees.
"Stop doing that," he said, voice coming out almost like a whimper. But his stranger-sister didn't appear to have even heard him. When a particularly vicious pull had her tearing skin, blood immediately sliding down her wrist did Cole feel the tears fall down his cheeks. "Cami, stop! Just stop doing that! Please!"
And she did, her vacant gaze latching onto him, enrapturing him. She cocked her head to the side. "This displeases you." She didn't even sound like she was in pain, like she hadn't just torn her wrist open to get free. Christ, what had Clifford done to them?
"I don't want to hurt you. I have to go and I can't have you following me, but I don't want to hurt you." Cole bit down on his bottom lip, his shimmering gaze moving from Veronica's face to her cuffed wrist, the sight of the blood enough to have his stomach protesting the sight. Blood never used to make him queasy, never used to make him want to vomit until his stomach was empty, but a lot had apparently changed in the time they were captured. "Please don't make me hurt you."
He didn't know what he was expecting, but Veronica laughing wasn't it. It was a sound that sent shivers down his spine, which did nothing to help him when combined with the spasms that had his jaw locking to keep from crying out. Cole felt small when Veronica looked at him with false pity in her eyes, the cerulean hue around her big brown eyes the only light in the otherwise darkened warehouse. "Where do you think you're going to go that I won't find you? Do you have any idea how much you mean to our father? What he won't do to take you back? You can run all you want, but it'll never be far enough."
"I'm sorry," Cole sobbed, backing away, and even though she was cuffed to the support pole, he still moved away slowly, like she would suddenly strike out at him when he least expected it. And he wouldn't put it past her, not after what she said, not after that warning. That alone was terrifying enough, his heart racing inside of his chest, his hands shaking at his sides as he clambered to his feet and made his way to the door of the warehouse. The mere thought of leaving her had tears blinding his vision, but he didn't have a choice, and he was really getting sick and tired of having his choices taken away. "I'm so sorry."
"You will be when I find you," she drawled, her voice sending a wave of fear slamming into him, a wave even stronger than the last one. "But not nearly as sorry as you will be when I deliver you to our father myself."
It was with those words that had him turning around and half-stumbling, half-jogging out of the warehouse and into the darkness, each syllable echoing in his head. Maybe she was right. Maybe running was a stupid call, a stupid decision, but he couldn't go back there. Couldn't. Because he remembered the glint in Clifford Blossom's eyes in that alley all that time ago. He remembered the deranged tone in his voice as he spoke about his thorn, stem, and rose. But most importantly, Cole remembered losing himself to that role Clifford so desperately wanted him as, remembered the emptiness, the desire to please his new father.
He remembered turning into that monster - the very same monster he had feared and still feared since he was a child - and he couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't. It would kill him if he had to do it again, so even if running was a foolish, pointless choice ... at least it was his choice. A choice he was making willingly for the first time in so, so long.
The car he'd been driving ran out of gas miles a while ago, and somehow Cole was still moving. A part of him was confused as to why it only had a quarter of gas inside of it. Shouldn't the Blossoms have made sure the car they'd given to their most treasured possessions was completely stocked of what kept the damn thing moving, so they wouldn't have to stop and risk getting captured by the enemy? It was a question that confused the hell out of him for about twenty minutes before the pain became a more prominent fixture at the forefront of his mind.
Honestly, driving had probably been a mistake for a number of reasons. Firstly, he had no way of knowing if the car was being tracked and, if it was, Cole had driven it for a good forty minutes before it conked out on the side of the road. The Blossoms could have realised something was up when they didn't call or report back immediately, and because of that, dispatched people to bring them back or figure out what it was they were doing, driving in the wrong direction entirely. Secondly, sitting down and being lulled by the car gently rocking on the road had completely depleted all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins ever since he knocked KJ out, said goodbye to Lili again , and cuffed and abandoned Camila to a support pole in that warehouse.
Thunder rumbled ominously above his head, a prickly, staticky sensation causing the hairs on his arms and on the back of his neck to stand on end. That wasn't a good sign. And then a shoulder knocked into the back of his, causing him to stumble, only catching himself on the wall before he toppled over onto the sidewalk in the middle of downtown, in an inelegant sprawl of arms and legs. He gasped out as a shooting pain shot through his neck and rippled down along his spine, causing his muscles to cramp and his eyes to water.
"Shit, sorry," a voice called, sounding distracted, and only when Cole blinked back the tears and looked at the guy did he realise what he was holding in his hand.
"Wait, wait, please," Cole said, holding out a hand to stop the guy, but kept himself from touching him. He knew he must look a sight with pale skin streaked with pink lines from blood he had tried to scrub away in vain. "Can I borrow your phone? I need to call someone."
"Yeah, I don't have any money, sorry," the guy replied, already moving away, his pace quickening.
"No, I –" Cole staggered forward a step, but he already knew there was no way he'd be catching up to that guy. His strides were long and his shoulders were hunched, indicating how closed off he was. Not that Cole necessarily blamed him for thinking the worst. He looked like a homeless person, and with the way his skin was coated with sweat, he probably looked like he had a drug addiction, too. Sighing, Cole pressed himself against the wall and whispered to himself the rest of his sentence. "I just want to call my dad."
There was nothing to do but wait. And Cole did. He waited, trying to smile at passersby, even when his head felt like it was cracking open from the inside. It was so fucking hard to appear like he wasn't crazy when he was twitching every few seconds, his right eyelid flickering like he either had something in his eye, or a serious drug addiction.
It probably didn't help that he looked homeless, too. The fight with his sister hadn't exactly improved his appearance. His hair was a tousled mess sticking to his forehead, the white shirt he'd been wearing for God knows how long, glued to his skin. He leaned against a closed shop window, catching his grim reflection in each car that went by. It hurt to be this ... low. With his father and the Serpents, he'd been at the top of Riverdale's underworld, and reigning over every monster, every killer. He was a Serpent child, and so were KJ and Camila. And now? He wasn't sure what he was. With the Blossoms, at least he'd been high up – just like the Serpents. The shirt he was wearing felt far too expensive to be stuck to his perspired flesh. Cole almost felt ... dirty. Pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against, he stared at his reflection, and then it hit him, like a wave of icy water, wind lashing at his cheeks. The breath caught in his throat and he stumbled back, because the boy in the shop window staring back, through drizzling raindrops, wasn't him.
No, the boy that was staring back at him didn't look like much of a boy anymore. He looked ... taller, like he'd grown a few more inches. And the angles of his face appeared sharper, as though time had been both cruel and kind to him. His eyes were bright and deep and glistened when the lights of the lampposts struck them. He felt ... God, he didn't know. Cole knew the boy – young man – in the reflection of the shop window was him , but he didn't know how. Time was a cruel thing, but that would mean ...
Head snapping up, Cole bit back a curse as a wave of dizziness slammed into him. He waited only a moment for the majority of the spinning to pass, and then he was moving. Each step was a stumble, an unsteady gait that didn't help his case in the slightest, but he couldn't help himself. His heart was pounding in his chest and he knew – he knew – but he needed to be sure, needed to see for himself what he knew deep down to be true. When he finally found the newspaper stand, Cole dropped down to his knees, gasping at the impact before pressing his hand to the glass doors. There, staring back at him was a date that had his jaw dropping in shock and horror. The month felt right – it was cool at night, but not overly so. There was a cold weight to the night, but there was also a heaviness that held the hints of warmer weather, so April felt right. But what had Cole sitting back on his haunches, his eyes glistening with tears he didn't even bother to stifle, was the year.
2020.
But it ... that couldn't be right. Could it? He remembered a cold night standing beside a swimming pool, the dim light of the moon causing Lili's hair to glow evanescently. He could remember the frigid bite of rain from the darkness of the alley as he, KJ, and Camila all tried to vie for warmth under a pathetic excuse of an old cardboard refrigerator box before ... before ...
"Fuck." Cole whispered to himself, a shaky hand coming up to cover his mouth, unable to tear away his gaze from the magazine behind the glass. Clifford Blossom had stolen three more years of his life. And now ... now he was no longer a sixteen-year-old boy. He was nineteen. Nineteen and it felt like only a moment had passed him by.
He caught in his peripheral vision a flicker of darkness, and Cole tore his gaze away and looked down at his arm, at the swirls of blackness that were visible beneath the white of his shirt. Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed thickly. He knew what they were without looking, and the very thought of pulling up that sleeve to confirm had anxiety twisting knots into his stomach. He could also recall utter fascination on Clifford Blossom's face that night three years ago in that alley, his hand wrapped painfully around his wrist, holding his arm aloft, greedy eyes taking in the expanse of his mark, of the map of roses that adorned his pale skin. It was terrifying to know just how long he'd been Clifford's possession, no longer in control of his own body and mind, no longer able to think and feel for himself, forced to –
Scrambling to his feet, Cole stumbled away from the magazine stand, spasms of pain shooting up through his neck into his head, causing a spiking sensation to blur his vision. God, he needed to go, needed to get help, needed his dad .
Shaking his head, as though trying to dispel the thoughts from his mind, Cole took a ragged breath and looked around. A rustle of wind picked up behind him, causing a shiver to break out across his skin. The storm seemed to be getting closer, the lightning flashing in the sky, bringing about rumbles of thunder in closer increments. It didn't seem to be bothering the people walking up and down the streets, walking past him as though he didn't even exist, their own lives going on, even though it felt like his was being stripped from him bit by bit. The sob was building up inside of his chest, causing his lungs to constrict and his throat to close up, but Cole forced it down, slowly looking for some semblance of shelter. He needed to sit down, he needed to rest, he needed to find a way to stop quivering, because every single time the wind whipped by, he felt his body seizing, and whether it was due to fright or an old instinct he had never really shaken off, he didn't know. Didn't care. Not in that moment.
It took a good half mile before the classy part of town slowly tapered off to a grungier side where there weren't as many lampposts and the people walking around had hunched shoulders with hoods pulled over their heads. Trash littered the sidewalks and there were people sitting against buildings that had long since been closed down, pieces of glass missing, almost like bricks or rocks had been thrown through. Cole almost felt like he belonged with how dishevelled he appeared, sweat beading along his skin, easily blending into the rain that washed over him.
By this time, he was completely soaked, the shirt he was wearing practically a second skin, the rose tattoos visible. When people got too close, Cole felt like shying away when they stared, their looks ranging from appreciative to confused. Some looked interested, others snorted and turned away. Some strangers didn't even look at him at all, despite the fact that his shoulder was knocked into at least three times before he got to the mouth of the alley. It was purely on accident that he even found it, a particularly hard jolt sending a rack of pain to send him almost to his knees.
The only source of light he had was from the flashes of lightning from the sky, and only then, it was for brief moments before he was shrouded in darkness once more, and the last time he'd been in an alley, he'd lost three more years of his life, but for some reason, Cole found himself slowly moving deeper inside, a hand slowly trailing along the cold bricks of the building to his right.
Maybe it was the prospect of finally coming to a rest after a rigorous, adrenaline-fuelled couple of hours, maybe it was coming out of the control of the chip and being slammed with an onslaught of pain, but the second Cole found a far enough place from the mouth of the alley, a place that was hidden behind a dumpster and a pile of cardboard boxes, Cole's legs decided then to give out on him, sending him in a heap against the wall. With his back pressed against the brick, Cole shuddered out a breath, no longer trying to stifle the emotions that were causing his chest to ache.
Three years. Three years , gone. Just like that. In the blink of an eye. It was like waking up from a nap, only to discover time had gone on without him, leaving him with no recollection of what happened. Even though Cole did know what happened. Clifford Blossom did. He'd taken them – KJ, Camila, and Cole – like he had a right to, like they weren't people, but possessions, like trinkets.
He'd whisked them away, kicking and screaming, and altered them, another fucking level of brainwashing that had his head spinning if he thought too much about it. The only good thing about any of this was KJ was out. That fact alone had Cole letting out another strangled sob, one of relief, as well as pain, because at least his big brother was safe with Lili and Casey, was away from Clifford Blossom, away from harm. If only the same could be said for Camila.
Lifting a hand and running it shakily through his soaked hair, Cole pressed his fingers into his temples, squeezing his eyes shut against the pulsing pain that had his ears ringing.
Christ, he had no idea how he was able to overpower her, how he'd been able to cuff her to the support pole. The mere idea of getting up seemed like a feat that was practically impossible. It certainly wasn't a good thing with the way his muscles were relaxing and then spasming up, his heart fluttering like a butterfly's, but he was sitting now, not moving, and that was fine for now.
He'd come up with something to do in the morning, when he had time to rest and gather his bearings. He'd clean himself up, find something to eat, and see about getting into contact with his father. The longer he was away from Clifford Blossom, the more incessant the man would become – that Cole knew. He needed to call FP as soon as he had the chance, but for now, he'd rest.
Voices suddenly flooded his ears, causing Cole to pressed his knees up against, his heart lodged in his throat. He couldn't hear their words, but their voices were getting closer. A dog barked in the distance and the thunder rumbled angrily overhead, and only then did Cole realize exactly how alone he truly was. He was in a dark alley, completely soaked. There was no KJ, no Camila, and he squeezed his eyes shut when the realisation slammed into him, causing his shoulders to shake. For almost a decade, he'd never been away from his siblings, and now ... now he'd never felt more alone, more afraid.
Wrapping his arms around himself, Cole clenched his jaw and waited for the sounds of voices to drift away, the dog's dark eventually fading away, as well. He didn't relax, though, not when the thunder clapped overhead and the rain continued falling in torrents. Not when the wind whistled through the narrow alley, causing goosebumps to raise along his exposed arms.
Cole took a moment to breathe, to look at himself. No matter how many times he swiped at his nose, it still bled in vivid crimson down his chin.
He was haemorrhaging. The thing inside him was trying to take control, and because his brain was stubborn and refused to back down, the bastard was trying to shut him down for good.
But then came the sound of engines, and the sound alone had him diving to his feet, expression frenzied, his hands already pawing for a weapon. But he only had his fists, only the training he'd received from The Blossoms, turning him into a monstrous soldier.
But... if these new abilities could save him, then so be it. Cole stood his ground and lifted his head, glaring at the approaching vehicle. Expensive mental. Smooth exterior. Definitely a Blossom ride. His fists clenched by his sides and he spat out a mouthful of blood. His head was pounding, but FP Jones had always told him that pain motivated his hits, flooding him with adrenaline. The headlights blinded him, and he reached up to shade his eyes, blinking in the intense allure.
The car was coming towards him, he had no doubt about it. Run. Every instinct was telling him to turn and run for his life. But he couldn't move. His feet were glued to the ground.
The car got closer, and Cole started to back away, shaking his head, because no, he refused to be taken again!
Until a voice sounded out, shattering his thoughts. "Oi, Jones!"
The car window rolled down, an all too familiar head popping out; intense green eyes and permanent scowl.
"What are you waiting for? Get in."
Cole nearly collapsed, relief flooding through him. "Casey." He managed to choke out, and the boy nodded, a smile curling on his lips. "You look like shit."
He almost laughed, tears were already trickling down his cheeks. "KJ?"
The boy shrugged. "Knocked out in the back. But he's fine, Jones." There was something about Casey's expression, the way his eyes wrinkled, his bottom lip shuddering, that made him wonder if his feelings were much stronger for his brother than he'd initially thought.
Cole nodded, the words thank you were swelling in his throat, but then the sound of car doors slamming was reverberating in his ears, and a choked cry set his heart on fire. Before he could move, a blur of blonde was flying at him, warm arms wrapping around his neck. And he was choking on the smell of her, the feel of her. When she grabbed his face, cradling it, and captured his lips in a desperate kiss, he lost himself. There was only her sobs.
Her warm breath tickling his neck, lips pressing kisses over abused skin.
"Lili."
"Don't." She gasped out, before pulling away. "Don't ever fucking do that again." Lili let out a sharp gasp which collapsed into a sob. She pulled away, and he was staring at her in the glow of the car's headlights; a halo of golden hair framing intense blue eyes.
And he could only nod, clutching her tighter. Even when the pain got worse, the chip threatening to take back his mind at any second, he held the girl closer. "Okay." He whispered, and she hummed in response. "I found you," Lili hissed out. "I found you, Cole, and I'm not letting you go again. Do you understand me? It's been three years. Three years of nothing, and now you're here. You're fucking here, and I'm taking you back to your dad, okay?"
Okay. The word was so painful, but he didn't say it. He shook his head with a spluttered sob, pulling her closer. He wanted to talk about Camila, about the sister he was sure he'd lost forever.
But he was too tired. There was too much pain. Instead, he fell into her, letting go of every explosive thought.
"You're both adorable. Trust me, if I didn't have your messed up brother jacked out in the back of my car, I'd give you a round of applause," Casey yelled. "But we like, really need to go, before either of you go Terminator on our asses."
The blade slid easily along flesh, bringing about a small trail of blood that trickled along a bound wrist, dripping soundlessly onto the polished floor. Jughead Blossom made no expression, his bright blue eyes blank as he moved on, making thin slices along skin. Behind him, his brother and sister stood, waiting.
"I just need a name," he said, bringing the knife to meet the young man's face, the teeth dangerously close to the Serpent tail coiled around his right eye. Jughead wasn't one to express disgust, but seeing the boy's marking made him scowl, his lips curling into an almost predatory snarl. "Better yet, a location. Where are your other vermin allies?"
"Dead," the man said, without flinching. His dark eyes narrowed into slits, focused completely on the boy looming over him, swinging his knife rather carelessly in his hand, where the start of a rose stem twined across his hand, entwining between each finger. When seeing the boy's latest tattoo, the boy scowled in disgust. "You killed them, Cole. You killed your own fucking family." He cocked his head, baring his teeth. "How do you feel about that, huh?" He tried to shuffle forwards. "What happened to you? Where's FP? And since when did you side with a fucking Blossom?"
Jughead seemed to mimic the young Serpent's actions. He cocked his head, dark curls falling in front of blazing blue eyes. Until then his eyes had been half lidded, almost as if he was bored. Though at the mention of the Serpent's name, they lit up, two pools of striking blue.
"FP Jones," he said flatly. "Do you know where he is?"
The Serpent blinked rapidly. "As if I'd tell you!" He seemingly caught himself, before sucking in a deep breath. "Cole, whatever trouble you're in, I can help you, okay? Dude, it's Joaquin. We've known each other since we were kids! You can't just...you can't just fucking switch sides!"
"I'm bored," Veronica hummed. Joaquin's gaze slid to her. "Hiram Lodge's daughter," he said softly, dark green eyes widening. "A Serpent princess turned Blossom bitch. What the fuck, Mila?"
Before she could say anything — not that she opened her mouth to speak further — Jughead's hand snaked out and gripped Joaquin's chin, drawing the boy's attention back to him. Without preamble, Jughead took the knife and forced it through his lips, uncaring if the blade's teeth cut and sliced through skin, lip, and gum. He pressed the tip against the centre of his tongue.
"If you can't give me a location as to where they're at, you are then of no use to me." Jughead cocked his head to the side. "I can show you just how good with blades I really am. And if that doesn't impress you, I can show you what my brother can do. He is Clifford Blossom's thorn, after all."
Joaquin's eyes filled with tears. His lips split open, blood trickling down his chin. He gritted his teeth, spitting out blood. "Yeah, I know KJ," he growled. The boy was a Serpent, and Serpents never gave into their pain. They never showed weakness. "His thorn?" he repeated, hissing out a breath. He leaned forward, wincing slightly. His bound wrists were bleeding profusely, but he kept them pressed against his t-shirt, staunching it as best as he could, without proper resources. Cole hadn't severed an artery - yet. Joaquin knew this was the same boy who had played with him as a kid, taught him how to wield a weapon. But there was something dark in Cole's eyes. His expression was blank, no glimmer, not even the one of mischief that he'd gotten to know well. No. Cole Jones's eyes were like staring into the void.
There was nothing there. And that terrified him.
"Have you three gone completely fucking crazy?!" he demanded. "Is this why your folks haven't mentioned you in a while? Why FP Jones, the literal monster of Riverdale's underworld, hasn't left his house in months?" Joaquin eyed them warily, his eyes sweeping over Clifford's latest markings that adorned their skin. "A little birdy told me Camila killed her own father," he said, frowning at the raven-head, who didn't even blink. "You've turned on your parents and joined a family of crazies, for what, huh?" Joaquin choked out a laugh."I knew you three were fucking crazy, but this?" He shuffled back on his knees, glaring at them.
"This just takes the fucking cake."
Jughead looked...entertained. Like Joaquin's words had been a joke he was slowly starting to understand, as a slow smile began to stretch across his lips. "You're funny," he said, and meant it. The boy turned to his brother and sister, eyes ignited. "Isn't he funny?" Shaking his head, Jughead stood to his feet and moved toward the redhead, his brother. "He's all yours, Archie."
Stepping forward, Archie motioned for the knife in Jughead's hands, his fingers wrapping around the golden handle, rose gold adorned with a cursive B on the hilt. Brushing past Jughead, the boy stepping back, falling back to stand with Veronica, Archie stepped forward, the thorn tattoos around his wrists vibrant and shrouded in shadows.
"Last chance," he said, lifting the blade. He cocked a brow, brown eyes dark and disinterested. "Give me a location. Or I open you up, Serpent."
Joaquin shook his head. "Like I'm scared of you, Andrews. You're all bark and no bite." His eyes, however, were stuck to the blade. "I swore an oath," he said softly, all the rebellion in his expression seeping away, making way for hurt. "I swore to you and your family that I'd never betray a Serpent." Joaquin started to choke up, excess blood dribbling down his chin. "So you're just going to have to fuckin' kill me, aint ya, brother?"
"Kill him." The command came quick, a crackle of static bouncing around Archie's skull. At the sound of the man's voice, his father, his king, his eyes dilated. His grip on the hilt tightened.
"Yes, father."
Joaquin's expression crumpled with confusion. "Who the fuck are you talkin' to, Andrews?"
Archie cocked his head to the side, dark browns sparking. He took a few steps, his footfalls echoing in the otherwise silent room. Though it was more of a dank basement than anything else, resembling something more of a dungeon than a simple room. Archie was well-accustomed to this place, knowledgeable in where the weapons were kept and when he was allowed to touch them. Knew when to give control back to his brother, Jughead, or allow Veronica time to negotiate should it be necessary. He didn't even really need to hear his father's voice to know they weren't going to get anything out of this Serpent. Some were weak and easily ... pliable. Others required more work. And sometimes, even when they were properly handled, bleeding and broken and contorted, they still wouldn't talk.
Joaquin was one of the few that weren't going to talk, to give up secrets of a group of criminals that were dwindling in numbers.
"That's a shame," Archie said, not that he truly meant it. Joaquin was a Serpent, a scaly creature that slithered in the dirty. He was beneath him. So, knowledgeable what he had to do, Archie pressed the knife against Joaquin's throat and, after the boy swallowed thickly, tear-filled eyes alight with understanding, he jerked his wrist to the left, watching a thin ribbon of red immediately seep from the cut, the artery sliced open.
There was no expression on Archie's face when Joaquin flopped forwards, before crashing to the floor, gurgling breaths becoming thinner and thinner. Instead, he simply stared at the Serpent lying in a pool of stemming scarlet, and began to smile. Archie stood proud, his arms fell to his sides, the knife dropping to the floor. Behind him, maybe he was imagining it slightly, maybe the slither of excitement he was allowed to feel after a kill was what brought such a hallucination on. But he could have sworn his brother flinched. A blink and you'll miss it moment.
"Did I do good, father?"
And as always, his father's voice came quickly, buzzing static crawling into his brain. "Of course you did, Archie."
Of course you did, Archie...
After being trapped inside his mind for so long, KJ felt a sense of relief flood him before he even properly slid back into consciousness. It was like coming up for air, breaking the surface and sucking in oxygen, after spending so long trapped under the waves, crushed beyond sea level. The first thing he could smell was the faint aroma of something strong. It tickled the back of his nose and throat. It was musky, with hints of dark chocolate and some wildflower he hadn't heard of. There was something familiar about the smell. It delved into his memories head first, long bony fingers reaching, reaching, until they finally grasped a time from so long ago. Back when his mind wasn't the property of a mad man, his thoughts moulded and shaped into submission. But he wasn't ready to slip back into reality, just yet.
He had to see the damage he'd caused. What he'd done, while under Clifford Blossom's spell.
It came to her in the slightest of sounds, a sniffle, a little grunt in his sleep, indicating KJ was slowly beginning to awaken. Lili leaned forward in her seat, ignoring the ache in her back, her neck, from sitting so sternly for so long, waiting for this very moment.
Lili watched as his eyes flickered beneath his closed lids, watched his face scrunch in discomfort. She swallowed thickly as she wondered what he was dreaming about, if his mind was conjuring up nightmares and terrors in his unconsciousness. She hoped not; the waking world wouldn't be as kind to him either. There was something adorable about how her brother was sleeping, curled into himself, legs tucked under his chest, his crimson hair an explosion of red across the pillow propping his head up. It was hard to believe that he was twenty years old.
Three years had been stolen from him, and within those three years, KJ Andrews had somehow retained youthful features. If she really wanted to, Lili could pretend that he was still that seventeen-year-old troublemaker who had become her beloved brother.
His head jerked slightly to the side, brows scrunched in discomfort or discontent, Lili couldn't tell. She saw his hand clench, as though he were holding something in his dreams, and she reached forward, thin fingers slipping through his. His skin was paler than she remembered, a shade or two lighter, a hard reminder that he hadn't been treated well in the hands of the Blossom family. Lili swallowed thickly and forced the thoughts from her mind.
And suddenly, the idea of KJ's discomfort in his dreams was too much for Lili. Now more than ever, she wanted to talk to him, hear his voice. KJ's voice, Not Archie Blossom's. She got up from the chair she was sitting in and chose instead to sit on the side of the bed, the deep cushions dipping under her weight. Lifting her hand, Lili brushed her fingers along the side of his face, pushing away crimson hair from his eyes.
"KJ?" she said, voice soft. "Wake up."
He groaned at the sound of her voice, lip curling slightly. And Lili had the terrifying thought that she hadn't saved him. That she'd failed to pull Clifford Blossom out of his head, despite seeing it herself. Just hours ago she had watched Hermione Gomez slice open the back of his neck with a scalpel, reaching in with gentle fingers, and coaxing out a piece of metal the size of her fingernail. It sickened Lili that something as small and seemingly insignificant, could cause so much damage. So much pain and hurt. But the boy was okay now, right? Hermione had sewn him back up and left him to rest, her and Fred engaging in conversation that Lili would rather not listen to. She'd only managed to overhear part of it, and before her curiosity got the better of her, Lili had ran upstairs to her room and pressed a pillow over her face to muffle the screams that tore from her throat.
"This isn't a good idea, Fred. We don't know what this technology is. For all we know, there's long lasting effects that are irreversible."
"I'm taking that chance, Hermione. He's my son."
"Fred...you don't know that. Look, I know it's hard to come to terms with, but Clifford Blossom has had him for three years. From my initial observation, he's already been...altered in different ways. There's a bruise on his left arm, a clear spot where he's been injected multiple times. His skin wouldn't even break when I tried to administer anaesthetic. For all we know, there's something else. Another chip. Are you willing to take a chance on a boy who's been turned into a killing machine?"
Lili didn't stay long enough to hear her father's answer.
That had been two hours ago, and he was yet to open his eyes. She had been under strict instructions not to visit either Serpent boy during their recovery. Cole was impossible to get to. After multiple tries to sneak in, Lili had given up, slipping into her brother's room instead.
Being with KJ was a distraction. Because now that Lili had seen what had been embedded inside of his brain, what was in Cole and Camila's — it took every bit of energy to not storm into his room, where Hermione Lodge was busy extracting the chip, freeing his mind.
Cole's expression was still stuck to her memory, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. His wide, fearful eyes glistening with tears, sickly cheeks, and blood streaming down his face, feverish blue eyes frenzied. He was home. And his expression before he lost consciousness, still draped over her knee in Casey's car, still haunted her.
Cole Jones just wanted his father back. He was a victim of the chip, slipping in and out of its control, falling in and out of oblivion. But for one shining moment, he had come back to her, before falling into the dark. And no matter how much he had changed, he was still the same. He was still that Serpent boy who turned her life upside down.
His last wish, before he'd been crushed against the ground by his own sister, was that she and Casey helped his brother, and saved his sister. And she was going to do it, no matter what.
"Please wake up," she said quietly, her light green eyes filling with tears. Now that he was so close to waking up, the thought of waiting for him to open his eyes naturally was almost unbearable. "KJ, please. I need you to wake up."
Without thinking about what she was doing, Lili put her hands on KJ's shoulders and gave him a gentle shake, her heart jackhammering in her chest. She wanted ... she wanted to talk to him, wanted to hear what he'd been through, what Clifford Blossom had done to them. And she was ashamed to admit that she wanted to know about Cole, wanted to see him through KJ's eyes during the time they were ripped away from her.
"Wake up!"
Lili was surprised at her tone, at how demanding it was. Betty Cooper had never been like that, but the Serpents had turned her into something else entirely, a stranger to her older self. A fighter. And if it took her breaking the sound barrier to wake her brainwashed brother up, she would do it a thousand times over. When the boys eyelashes fluttered slightly, she lunged towards him, bile burning the back of her throat. It was hard to tell if he was still under Clifford's control. Her heart said he wasn't. Especially when KJ let out a soft moan, his body trembling, lips twitching as he slowly began to awaken. Lili couldn't seem to keep in her excitement, her anticipation.
"KJ?" She said his name like it was liquid gold at the back of her throat. Like it was so precious to her, a name that felt so good to slide off her tongue so effortlessly after so long. He didn't respond, at least with his mouth. But he did groan again. This time it sounded pained, like he was uncomfortable, like he was remembering. Lili sucked in a breath. "KJ," she said again, more warily. She couldn't stop herself from reaching forwards and brushing the knuckles of her fingers against his icy cheeks. This time he scowled in his waking slumber, turning his head, his face twitching, his hands hich were at his sides, curling into fists. She realized her mistake too late, her heart hammering in her chest.
And that's when his eyes flew open. Really, she should have been happy. But the look of sudden vigilance as opposed to sleepiness in mocha eyes blown wide, almost dilated, was what made her retract her hand with a quiet gasp. But it was too late - far, far too late. The damage had already been done, the panic warring with a mind that was too slow, too lethargic to catch up.
KJ was faster than she gave him credit for, so fast that she had absolutely no time to react, to counter and block or move out of the way, because his fist was moving with a speed she couldn't track. One second his eyes were closed, his mind slowly bringing him from the land of unconsciousness, and the next, he was awake and aware, and the intensity of his gaze was enough to make Lili gape in surprise, because the reality of what she thought would happen was nothing like this. And then there was the pain, something quick and sharp, but it was enough to have her lurching back, her spine connecting with the hard plastic of the chair, eliciting a gasping inhalation, a slender hand coming up to cup her face.
There wasn't a lot of blood, a thin ribbon beading down her chin, but it the tingling, searing sensation was enough for Lili to know that her lip had been split, the zinger of the punch causing her teeth to slice into her bottom lip, cutting it straight open.
He'd punched her.
And in the moment of shock, in the moment it took her to quickly evaluate her injuries, that was all the time that KJ needed to launch himself from the bed he was lying prone on, his limbs uncoordinated and clumsy and awkward. He didn't go far, the weight of his body after being unconscious for so long quickly taking its toll. Slumping down the wall on the opposite side of the bed, Lili watched in surprise, in heartbreak, as her brother curled his knees up to his chest, his breaths coming out in panting gasps, entire body trembling with adrenaline so quickly fading, with fear of being forced awake, and confusion at being at an unknown location. It was strange looking at him now, stranger knowing this was the boy she had once viewed as a sort of god. So untouchable, so much more than anyone else she'd ever known. To see him now - his greasy red hair, his dilated eyes, the shake to his limbs, the way his chest was rising and falling in quick succession - it had Lili realising that that facade had probably been the first to go when he was taken by Clifford Blossom. It made her fists clench in anger.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, so quietly that she wasn't sure KJ was aware that she'd spoken. His mocha coloured eyes were pivoting around the room, taking in all the details of the room - his room - Fred had put him in. She was curious how different and strange it looked now, if he saw himself in the posters that hung on the walls and of the various weapons that littered the surfaces that Fred insisted remained to show KJ they weren't afraid of him, that they weren't trying to control him. If he saw himself in the few photographs he had taped to the bathroom mirror of Camila and Cole, or in the trinkets he had on his dresser and night-tables. Lili wondered if any of those things held a purpose they once had four years ago.
She should call Fred. That was the right thing to do. Afterall, her father had been at his side all day, and left to see how Cole was getting on. The man's name was at the back of her throat, but she couldn't bring herself to say it.
Maybe it was the subconscious fear of her brother lashing out at Fred too. He was upstairs, trying to save Cole Jone's mind. If she told him her son wasn't quite himself, the man would crumble.
Maybe ... maybe it was selfishness, wanting to be the one to bring KJ back on her own, to not have to include anyone else. She'd earned her keep, showed Fred and FP that she was every bit as formidable and strong as any other Serpent kid. So maybe it wasn't selfishness as it was pride. Lili didn't know. All she did know was KJ needed her. His eyes were wide as he pivoted around the room, confusion and uncertainty and obvious fear and discomfort clear in mocha coloured eyes. He needed guidance, he needed reassurance. She could provide that, at least.
"KJ?" she called hesitantly, her voice low enough, but high enough to penetrate the silence in the room. Still, he did not react outwardly. If anything, his gaze dropped, locked on something she didn't see at first. But no, she knew what he was staring at. Lili knew without even looking down to confirm to know what he was staring at, what had his heart pounding in his chest, rising and falling with quick succession. "Or do you go by Archie now?"
The boy seemed to jerk at the sound of that name. His brown eyes flickered, lips curling. For a moment, Lili thought he was going to lunge at her again. But instead her brother dropped to his knees, drawing his legs to his chest. He looked so fragile, as if simply touching him would make him shatter. When Lili knew it was quite the opposite. Hermione Lodge had confirmed her worst suspicions. He was dangerous. Whatever Clifford had done to him, the bastard had enhanced his skills and strength, turning him into some kind of super soldier. The woman had warned Lili to stay away. But Lili knew she could bring him back. The boy she'd once known. It was just going to take...time. Dabbing at her nose gingerly, Lili tried not to wince. Maybe she'd hold off training with him for a while.
Her attention went back to KJ, when he let out a sharp gasp for breath. He was staring at his arms wrapped around his knees, gazing at his wrists, where of course the thorn tattoos were. They looked so much more prominent now that he was awake, trails of black and red ink wrapped around his wrists. The tattoo looked grotesque; bloody thorns digging into his skin. She remembered the first time she'd seen it, in the club with Casey.
It signified enrapture. And with the marking, there had been his empty eyes, the murderous smile on lips that no longer cared, that weren't allowed to care. He and his siblings were prisoners, and KJ specifically was Clifford Blossom's soldier. Lili sucked in a breath. She wouldn't cry. Her eyes filled with tears, but she swiped them.
Serpents don't cry. She thought, biting down hard on her lip. But she'd seen her father cry for hours over the loss of his son. She'd watched FP trash the upstairs kitchen during the three years she spent looking for The Serpent kids. It was obvious now. The Serpents had fallen, and so had their rules. Which meant she could cry all she wanted. She could breakdown, she could scream and screech until her throat was burning. Lili no longer had to hold herself back.
So, she allowed herself to break, very slowly, as he watched the realisation begin to flicker on KJ's face.
At first it was pure disgust which twisted his expression, before the pain and panic settled in. He leaned forward, lips parting slightly. Maybe it was the absence of his Serpent tattoo, the verdant print that had emblazoned his left wrist since he was a child, that was the most upsetting. Lili couldn't tell. Finally, he spoke. His voice was hoarse whimper which twisted her gut. "What's this?"
Lili tried to smile, but she was pretty sure she was grimacing. What if he'd forgotten who she was? As much as she wanted to go to him, to comfort her brother, Lili stayed back against the wall. "Don't worry about that." She choked out. "Just focus on me, okay?"
His head spasmed almost unnaturally, when he turned to face her and Lili's chest ached, Hermione's words seeping back into her mind; "He's been altered, Fred. We don't know what he's capable of." That was becoming painfully true, but Lili wouldn't give up. Not after everything they'd been through. It was only a few hours ago he had her pinned to the ground, a madman whispering orders into his brain.
"Elizabeth Cooper," the boy had spat in her face. "A traitor to my father, and my family, as well as her own blood."
Before Cole had knocked it out of him. Saved him and sacrificed himself. Before he collapsed in the back of Casey's car. Lili let out a shaky breath. The image of him bleeding out, curled up in a frantic FP's arms was still burned into her mind. She promised herself she wouldn't think about Cole, not right now. Not when KJ needed her more than ever.
Besides, it's not like she could just walk into Cole's room. FP would invicorate her.
Still, Lili's heart ached for her sister.
Were years going to pass before she saw Cami again? More lengthy time apart?
She couldn't do it. No. As soon as KJ was himself, the Serpent boy's 100% once more, they'd save Camila regardless of what the adults said.
"Lils?" the redhead frowned at her, blinking rapidly. "Did I miss something? What happened?"
"Oh we missed something, alright!" a voice sounded from behind her. Lili's heart flipped in her chest, and she twisted around to see Cole. He was bent over slightly, expression creased with pain. The boy was practically clinging onto the doorway to keep himself upright.
"Three years." Cole gasped out, his voice a pained hiss. "Three fucking years, KJ!"
"Cole." Lili managed to say. But she didn't move. He was already moving across the room, dark eyes narrowed. The boy shook his head. He turned to her, teeth gritted.
"Don't tell me to calm down. Don't tell me to go back to my room and rest." he stroked the back of his neck, wincing. "The chip is gone, and I'm fine." before she could speak, he was taking her hands and squeezing them and pulling her to him. He was breathing heavily, eyes burning with determination.
"But you need to understand that nothing is going to stop me from getting Camila back."
Lili cocked her head. "The parents?"
Cole smirked slightly. "Locked in my room, until further notice." His eyes sparkled with that Serpent mischief she missed. But there was something else. Not a circle of cerulean light.
Power.
Power that had been given to him when he was a Blossom soldier, and now he was going to use it against the very bastard that created him. "Are you in, Lils?"
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