Wasn't That Broken To Begin

A/N: So I'm going to warn everyone who has read anything I wrote SO long ago... my writing style has definitely changed haha! It's been so long since I wrote CotT but demenior promised some writing, so here you go! This was sort of inspired by A Fine Frenzy's 'Near to You' so you should listen to that. Hope you enjoy and review :)


Sometimes Theresa wakes up screaming. She's not the only one, of course; all of the descendants are light sleepers out of necessity these days, and war takes it's toll on them. It's not as common as it used to be, there was a time when a night couldn't go by without Neil's piercing shriek, or Herry yelling. They're kind of used to it, which is the worst part.

So sometimes she wakes up screaming, and no one brings it up at breakfast because there's no point. They don't talk about the screaming, and they don't talk about the way she can't hold the spoon in her right hand anymore. They don't talk about the cold silence Jay has fallen into around her, and they sure as hell do not talk about Cronus.

Theresa kind of hates it. She hates everything about the Brownstone these days; the silence and tension, the way Athena doesn't hang around anymore. Sometimes she even hates her friends for looking at her like she might start screaming while she's awake.

So she doesn't stay there very often anymore, she spends her days with Persephone in the garden, and she works on her magic. It's where she's most comfortable, and Persephone never says a word because no one in her life knows how to communicate, apparently.

"Focus." Persephone's voice is soft, and Theresa regains her thoughts. It takes a moment, but soon enough she's managed to raise herself off the ground. She's been practicing this particular trick for a week, and so far she's gone from barely any distance off the ground to nearly a foot.

She lowers herself back to the floor and opens her eyes, "Better?"

Persephone nods, "Yes. I'm impressed with your control over yourself. It's different from my magic; I'm better with outside manipulation."

Theresa nods, "Objects are harder. I know myself, it's easy enough to make my body do what I want."

Persephone laughs, "That's probably why I struggle with it; you know, the whole two personality thing."

Theresa doesn't say anything, just shuts her eyes and refocuses, lifting herself even further off the floor. Being able to telekinetically lift herself is impressive, but she would rather have more control over objects. It would be handier, especially since her dominant hand is basically useless now.

"Try two things at once." Persephone says.

Theresa focuses on the pillow on her left, juggling her magic to keep her lifted and move the pillow. She can't lift it, it's too much to focus on both, but she does manage to slide it over so that when she lowers herself she's on the pillow.

"Good," Persephone grins, "Let's work on blocking."

Blocking is Theresa's least favorite activity, but it also happens to be the one she's best at, ironically. Recently, Persephone has her working on catching the object before it hits her and holding it there, instead of just blocking or deflecting it.

Persephone starts throwing balls at her. They're light, and Theresa manages to catch all of them until Persephone throws two at the same time. One stops, midair, and the other hits her in the leg.

"Theresa, you need to concentrate."

"I am," Theresa snaps, "don't you think I want to get this? This is the one thing I need to know, the one thing that could have stopped it."

They stare at each other, wide eyed, because Theresa has never said it out loud before. They both knew, of course, that Theresa was focusing on her magic because it had failed her. Their last battle with Cronus had been nearly disastrous.

"Theresa," Persephone's voice is as gentle as Theresa has ever heard it, "it wasn't your fault, you know that. You saved Jay."

"But I lost him all the same." Theresa snaps, "If I had been able to block two things both of us know that I could have saved him and my hand."

Theresa glares at her right hand, fingers open and useless. The sword had cut straight into the bone before she stopped it, severing all the tendons on one side. She couldn't close her hand anymore, couldn't even more three of her fingers. Her black belt was practically useless now.

They don't even bring up her face, mostly because it doesn't even matter. They all have scars at this point, and the one skirting the edge of Theresa's cheek isn't that bad. Agnon throws a nasty punch, and it sucks, but her hand is the real loss here.

She can't even bring herself to regret it because she had a split second in that battle to decide. Would she stop the scythe going straight for Jay's knee, or would she stop the sword from hitting her hand?

She chose Jay, because what other choice was there? She would always choose Jay, and not because she had once loved him, but because he was their leader. What was the point of a team of heroes without someone to lead them? They would just fall apart.

So she chose Jay, and they won another battle when Cronus disappeared; despite this, Theresa would never get the sound of her name being screamed out of her head, or the sight of her fingers hanging useless from bone, or what seemed like endless amounts of blood.

"Jay is stubborn. He does what he does because he cares for you."

Theresa laughs, "That's just it, though. I don't even want him to care for me, not anymore. We're too far gone, and I know it's not going to work out. I think I always knew, in a million different ways. While Cronus lives Jay is too afraid to love anyone, to focus on anything else but killing him, and by the time we do kill Cronus Jay won't even know how to love anyone."

Persephone doesn't argue. They both know that the teenagers are older than their years, and so damaged that even the Gods can't fix them. For a second, Persephone flickers between her sunshine hair and her icy persona, but then she's back and she swallows hard.

"Come on. Blocking and catching, one more time. Focus."

Theresa throws herself into her magic headfirst.


The brownstone is quiet when she gets home. The lights are off in Jay and Atlanta's room, and Herry and Neil are gone in the truck. She can hear Odie tinkering with something in the basement, so she doesn't bother him.

She focuses on the fridge door and opens it without touching it. It's easier than the balls from earlier; Theresa tends to have better control over objects she's familiar with. She can turn off her lights with barely a thought in her room.

She'd love to get her hands on Cronus' scythes, and Agnon's sword. If she ever got the chance to learn the detail on the weapons she'd have a serious edge. As it stands, she's familiar only with the sight of them and the pain they can cause when they slice into her.

"Hey." Archie's voice surprises her and she spins around. He's wearing grey sweats and a t-shirt, and he looks a little rumpled, like he was napping.

"Hey," Theresa replies, "didn't know you were up."

Archie shrugs, "I wasn't, but I heard you come in and wanted to see you."

Theresa smiles at him, "Cool, lemme grab some food and we can go hang."

That's the biggest change, of course. Everyone else in the brownstone looks at her now as though she is broken. Everyone only sees the scar on her face and the way she drops her fork at breakfast. Archie doesn't though; for the first time since they met they're finally getting along. She shouldn't have been surprised though, Archie tends to like anything that's a little weird. Like poetry.

It also started even before she lost the use of her fingers. Archie had finally made peace with her, mostly because he wanted advice with Atlanta. She had done her best, and eventually the two of them had tried dating. They were together for a while, but it was like oil and fire; too much anger and passion and not enough love to fix everything it burned. Eventually it was just too much and Atlanta walked away. It had torn Archie up, mostly because the warrior didn't do anything half way: he was in it forever once he made up his mind.

He pulled himself together after a while and moved on, because that's what they were good at. Atlanta and him were friends, and they always would be, but it wasn't the same anymore. It would never be the same, especially with the way Herry had started looking at Atlanta, and the way Atlanta was looking back.

Archie follows her up the stairs to her room and flops down on her bed beside her. He's silent for a long moment while she eats the leftovers from dinner, and he doesn't give look at her any differently when she drops her fork once.

"How was training today?"

Theresa shrugs, sets her bowl on her nightstand, "Good, I'm getting closer. Did you go to training today?"

"Nah," he responds, "Ares was busy so I just went for a run downtown."

"Come with me tomorrow, I need someone to fight." Theresa grins at him, and Archie grins back.

"Done deal, princess. I'll kick your ass and you know it."

Theresa laughs and concentrates enough to toss a pillow at him from the floor. It takes him by surprise and he gives her a look that's somewhere between annoyance and pride.

"You are getting better," Archie tells her, "Jay will be happy."

Theresa sighs, "Doubt that, I don't think he knows how to be happy. But at least he'll stop worrying about me in fights."

"Have you two spoken since he tried to stop you from fighting?"

Theresa feels her face heat up in anger, "No. He didn't take me throwing him into a wall very well, but at least he doesn't think I'm some sort of wilting damsel anymore."

"I don't think anyone thinks that," Archie chuckles, as if the idea is somehow preposterous.

Theresa frowns, "I wouldn't doubt it. You don't see the way everyone looks at me now, Arch. It's like they're afraid I'm going to get myself killed at the first opportunity."

Archie turns to her with a serious expression, "Theresa. It was one mistake, and we've all made them. It's only a scar on your face; I mean, have you seen Herry's since we took up our crusade against Cronus?"

Theresa lifts her hand and waves to him, "Just my face, huh?"

Archie punches her in the arm, "Okay, pity party, you are so complaining to the wrong person here. It sucks, and I get that, but have you noticed the giant metal brace on my ankle that I've had since I was eight?"

Theresa laughs because it seems completely odd that Archie is the one who always makes her feel better, "Alright, alright, you make a point."

Archie knocks his shoulder into hers, "Plus, keep working it. I'm sure you'll gain back some movement over time."

Theresa nods, "Yeah, maybe. What time do you want to leave tomorrow?"

"Like ten? Last day before school starts again."

Theresa scoffs, "We barely even go to school, there's almost no point anymore."

"Hey, I happen to want to get my high school diploma if it's all the same to you," Archie teases, "plus, it's the only time where we're normal. Or, sort of normal. Anyway, I'll head to bed."

Theresa grins and pulls her covers back, settling into her bed. "Night, Arch."

"Night, princess." he calls as he shuts her door.


Theresa forgets to set an alarm and Archie wakes her up, which is a surprise. He's grinning and freshly showered, and she scrubs at her eyes and pushes her long hair out of her face.

"Come on, you slept in, it's ten-fifteen." Archie teases, then speeds out of her room. Theresa drags herself out of bed and into her gym clothes, and makes it to the bathroom to wash her face and throw her hair in a pony.

Archie's waiting in the kitchen and he tosses a banana at her, "Let's take my bike."

Theresa scarfs down the banana as they make their way outside and tosses the peel in the outside bin. She clambers onto the back of Archie's bike; she doesn't love riding the bike like he does, but she can see the appeal in the way she feels free when he goes fast.

They make their way to the school quickly, and Theresa can feel herself grinning into Archie's shoulder and his loud laughter in her ears as he takes corners too fast. He parks outside on the curb and helps her off the bike. He grins at her, and without saying anything she takes off into the school. They race down the halls of the empty school until the make it to the janitors' closet, and Theresa freely admits that Archie beat her by a mile.

"You're faster, but I'm still going to win in our spar." Theresa goads him.

"No way," Archie rolls his eyes, "plus, I thought we were doing target practice. On you."

Theresa can't help her smile from slipping, "I'm not quite ready for weapons in the blocking magic. They're too heavy for me to hold; I can deflect them but that's about it."

"Never gonna learn if you stick with Persephone's way," Archie tells her, "try mine."

She doesn't argue because she learned a long time ago that Archie actually tends to be right some of the time, so when he leads her to the gym and picks up a set of false knives she doesn't hesitate. The knives themselves are as heavy as metal but made of a type of plastic that isn't sharp. They hurt when they hit you but they rarely break skin.

Theresa focuses on the knives and Archie, and she pulls her magic so close to her skin that she can feel it thrumming beneath her finger tips. Archie tosses the first knife at her and she deflects it. It's good, but she's trying to hold them, not deflect them. He tosses the second and she stops it dead and drops it, which is better.

They do this for a while, and Theresa gets pretty good at stopping them midair; she's just getting comfortable when Archie throws two at her, lightning speed. Archie's like that; he learned how to train from Ares, and he is merciless when he's teaching something. There's no time to pause, he just goes and goes until you collapse. Theresa hates it, but Archie's also the best teacher of any of them.

She stops one of the knives and the other one hits her in the leg. It stings like crazy, and Theresa slaps a hand on it to numb the pain with her magic.

She glares at Archie, "What the hell, Arch?"

"Theresa, Cronus isn't going to warm you up with one weapon at a time. He's going all out in the beginning, and if you don't focus, you'll be dead."

"I know that," She snarls, "I'm trying!" Theresa focuses and sends all the knives skittering across the floor to stop at Archie's feet. It's actually really impressive, but Archie doesn't even crack a grin. He readies two more knives and she stands again, crouching into her defensive position.

"You're not trying hard enough," Archie whips a knife at her. It freezes midair and spins lazily as Theresa holds it there. First time she's held it once she blocked it.

He throws another knife and she hastily drops the one she's spinning to stop the other one. She manages it, but by the time she's stopped the second knife a third is sailing through the air and she has to roll to the side to avoid it.

"Hey," Archie reprimands, "you're not supposed to dodge with your body, only your magic."

"I'm not going to wait around for you to hit me!" Theresa argues.

They continue like this, half banter and half fighting. It takes an hour before Theresa manages to deflect two at the same time, and once she does it she sits on the floor, suddenly drained. Archie puts the knives away and comes to sit by her.

"Tired?" He asks. He's sweating, but throwing knives isn't as much of a workout as he's used to at this point.

She nods, "I used too much magic, I'm drained. Plus, I'm hungry."

"Let's go for lunch." Archie pulls her to her feet and she stumbles down the hallway after him.

His bike is where they left it, and she winds her arms around him instead of resting them on his sides; she's barely keeping her eyes open, and she trusts that Archie won't let her fly off the seat of the bike. The engine rumbles to life beneath her, and she falls asleep before they peel out of the parking lot.

It seems like ten seconds later when Archie wakes her up by moving, but Theresa knows it's been at least fifteen minutes when she sees the cafe Archie's parked in front of. It's across town, but it makes her favorite sandwiches.

"Hey, thanks," She mumbles, and shakes her head a little to clear it. Archie is looking at her funny, almost like he wants to smile but he's caught in a frown.

"My treat, let's eat."

Theresa laughs at his rhyme and makes her way to a table where they order. She laughs at Archie when he orders tea, and he rolls his eyes but grins back at her. Their food comes quickly, and the table goes silent as they both attack their sandwiches as though they've been starving for years.

Archie finishes first and sighs, "That's better, I was so hungry."

"Yeah," Theresa licks her fingers, "remind me to eat more than a banana when I train with you, Persephone takes it so much easier on me."

Archie smiles, and it's almost animalistic, "That's why you're barely improving. You made more progress today than in the last week, guaranteed. You stopped both those knives, even if you couldn't hold them."

"Then I practically passed out." Theresa argued.

"True," Archie conceded, "but you'd been using your magic constantly for an hour before then anyway. I bet when you see Persephone tomorrow you can stop two of the balls at once and then hold them there. They're lighter, you said so yourself."

"I'm used to the knives now, they won't be as difficult."

Archie laughs, "That's why we're switching to Atlanta's wrist crossbow next time. We'll use the duller disks, but I want to up the ante."

"That could actually hurt me!"

"Barely!" Archie grins, "You only got hit once today, and if I was using the disks you'd be more inclined to stop them."

Theresa scowls, "I'm going to have a huge bruise, thanks to you."

Archie shrugs and throws some cash onto the table, grabbing his jacket, "Whatever, princess. Let's go home, I'm in serious need of a nap."


It isn't until a week later that Persephone realizes the difference. Theresa's been practicing with Archie twice now, and both times she's made pretty big strides magically. She can almost always stop two things at once, and she can usually hold them there too. Recently, she managed to stop three discs at the same time when Archie shot them one after another. They had crashed to the floor at the same time, and the echoing metallic clang sent a smile rushing to her face.

"You've been practicing." Persephone is smiling, "With who?"

"Archie." Theresa answers, "He's the best trainer anyway, and he's the only one who shoots things at me without being afraid of me getting hurt."

"Ares has mentioned that Archie was asking about different training techniques. I didn't realize he was training you as well, but I'm guessing he wants to get the team back in working order."

Theresa scowls, "What do you mean, 'in working order'? We are working, all of us. We're stronger than we've ever been."

Persephone freezes infinitesimally, "I didn't mean that, Theresa, I just meant that Archie probably wants to get the team talking again. Get you guys acting more like a team. You know, get you and Jay back on speaking terms-"

"We are on speaking terms," Theresa snaps, "but we're not together. We won't ever be together, he made that very clear."

"No, Theresa, Jay didn't mean that, he's stressed and-"

Theresa hisses, "Did he mean it when he told me I was a liability? Did he mean it when he said now that I couldn't move my fingers I shouldn't be on the team? Did he mean it, or was he stressed, when he said he didn't want anything to do with my death when I screwed up again?!"

Persephone stares after her when she slams out of the solarium, the doors shutting behind her with a simple thought. Fury courses through Theresa's veins, and she fights to cool herself down. Jay was her leader, plain and simple, and that's all he would ever be. Maybe at one time they were supposed to be more... but it was too late and they were all too far gone anyway.

She runs into Archie on her way out; he's grinning and dripping sweat like he's just finished a particularly grueling workout. Theresa realizes the second she sees him that she's angry with him. So he thought she was the reason the team was broken? It wasn't enough that she already blamed herself for her face and her hand - it was also her fault Jay had withdrawn?

He probably blamed her for Atlanta and Herry too. Without thinking she sweeps a hand up and lashes out, her magic throwing Archie into the nearest wall. She pins him there, holding him three feet off the ground.

"It's not my fault," she screams, "I wasn't strong enough and I'm sorry but I saved Jay! What more do you people want? It's not my fault that no one talks anymore, or Jay won't come out of his room. I'm not broken, this whole team is."

"Theresa, what the-"

"I don't need your help, Archie," Theresa interrupts, "I don't want your pity. I can take care of myself, I don't want you to fix me."

She leaves him pinned to the wall while she exits out of the janitor's closet.


The brownstone is quiet when she enters, only the soft murmur of voices in the living room breaking up the silence. She can see the outline of Atlanta and Herry watching some sort of video, but neither turn to look at her, so she heads up to the roof without saying hi. She makes it to the bathroom before she runs into Neil. He looks almost embarrassed, standing in a towel in front of her.

"Hey," he greets, "what's up?"

She forces a smile, "Not much. Just training. You?"

Neil shrugs a little, and Theresa realizes just how much she misses him suddenly. She misses his ridiculous hair and his screams and the way he never failed to drag her for a pedicure after every mission. Gods, she never thought she would miss Neil.

"Just hanging out here. It's been quiet, I'm actually excited for school." Neil grimaces, "Never thought I'd say that."

Theresa can't help the laugh that escapes her, "I am too, actually."

Neil eyes her strangely after she laughs, and then he says: "Hey, I was thinking, do you want to go get a pedicure this week?" His voice is soft, and strangely hesitant, and Theresa doesn't think she's ever heard Neil talk to her like that.

In fact, he's never asked her to go for a pedicure, he just makes her. She wonders briefly if maybe Neil msises her just as much as she misses him.

"I'd like that." She smiles at him.

He beams, "Perfect. Let's do Tuesday." He leaves her in the hallway to escape to his own bedroom on the main floor, and Theresa can't help but keep grinning. It's the closest she's felt to normal in a long time.

The roof, when she finally gets there, is empty. She can see all around New Olympia, and she hears the ocean in the distance. She thinks maybe Jay is sailing today, because it's the only hobby he's kept while searching for Cronus, and it's the only thing that brings him any type of peace.

It has occurred to her that she has probably been too harsh on Archie, and maybe even Persephone. Maybe everyone.

She hates their stares and she hates their babying and sometimes she just hates them, but it's not entirely their fault. They've all seen destruction and injury before while battling, but she was the first to sacrifice. She was the first to put Jay's life first and get hurt for it.

Maybe, in a way, she showed them their own mortality.

Maybe that's also why Archie just accepted it: her hand and her sacrifice. For such a ridiculous dork he was always ahead of his time; maybe he had always known that this fight could kill them and they would have to accept their fate, and they had slowly been coming to terms with it alongside him.

The door swings open behind her and she doesn't need to turn to know who it is. He flops down beside her, and she can nearly sense his anger and frustration.

"Theresa, I don't even know what Persephone said to make you so-"

"Do you want to fix me?" She interrupts.

Archie gapes at her, "Fix you?"

"Yeah," she waves her hand in his face, "fix me. Make me feel like I'm not afraid, or like I won't screw everything up again. Make me a better fighter. Fix me."

Archie heaves a sigh, like he's not sure exactly what to say. "Theresa, you are not broken, and you are the only one of all of us who thinks of yourself like some object to be fixed. I do want you to never have to make that choice again, I do want you to not be afraid anymore. I never want to wake up to you screaming, or Odie, or Atlanta. I would love to fix that. But you're not broken, I'm not trying to fix you, I'm trying to be your friend."

Theresa's ire dies; what's left to even be angry at? Archie is right, she's not broken. She's a little messed up, sure, but they all are at this point. She doesn't need her hand to work again, it's not her fingers or her magic that's the problem, it's her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, "I'm so, so sorry."

Archie bumps his shoulder against hers, "I know. It happens, sometimes."

They're silent for a long time after that, watching the sun slowly sink. They don't move, even when it gets chilly on the roof, and they can hear people coming back to the brownstone. Surprisingly, it's not even Theresa who breaks the silence, when it does happen, it's Archie.

"When I was five I got my ankle brace. It'd always been weak, but one day I twisted it, snapped all my ligaments and that was it. They told me initially I'd never be able to walk normally again, never be able to run. I was crushed, and it took me a long time to even try to see if the doctors were wrong. I'm stubborn though, as you know," Archie throws a grin at her, "and eventually I got it in my head that if I just built it up again, just got used to the pain, maybe I could walk. Once I got the hang of steady walking I decided maybe I could jog. It went on like that, and by the time ten years had gone by I was running track for my school, and winning medals for first. I'll never be able to take off the brace, and it'll always be my weak ankle, but in a way it's also proof that I'm stronger than that."

"I didn't know that," Theresa murmurs, "I didn't know you weren't supposed to walk."

Archie shrugs, "People looked at me different for a long time. You aren't imagining it, and I'm not saying your fingers will heal. Sometimes things don't heal. But I am saying that you can get past this. This doesn't define you, Theresa."

She pushes herself to her feet, hold out her bad hand to Archie, "Yeah, you're right. I think I better try to get this team back on track."

Archie grasps her hand, doesn't worry about her fingers, and she pulls him up. "Yeah, I'll help you."

She punches his shoulder playfully, "You're always helping me lately. Why?"

It wasn't supposed to be serious, not really, but she realizes as she says it that she really does want to know. They had been on good terms before her accident, from the whole Atlanta debacle, but now Theresa has to admit that Archie is her best friend.

Archie's face scrunches a little, like he's not exactly sure what he's supposed to be feeling. He scowls for a second, but then pulls her in by her hand, bringing her close to him.

He kisses her, and Theresa freezes in absolute surprise but doesn't push him away. His lips are dry, and a little chapped, and it's nothing she ever would have expected if she had ever expected Archie.

It's kind of nice.

Archie doesn't linger, he pulls back and smiles tightly. "Yeah. That's- that's why. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Theresa replies, fingers rising to touch her lips, "I didn't think... I didn't expect that."

Archie shrugs a shoulder, "I didn't either, if it's any consolation."

"Since when?" Theresa asks.

Archie laughs, "I don't know. After Atlanta and I, but before you and Jay had your falling out."

She frowns, glancing to the ground. It's hard to decide what to do, when your best friend kisses you and you've never even considered the notion before. She thinks about Archie, thinks about what she feels. She does... care about him; she loves the way he races with her and teases her and cares about her. He's attractive, certainly, even if it's never occurred to her before.

His fingers lift her chin, bringing her eyes to his, "Theresa, it's not an ultimatum. I'll still be your friend, no matter what you choose."

He doesn't say it, but she hears what he's implying - I'm not Jay.

"You love me?" The question is a whisper, because it feels like she's asking for truths she's not ready for yet, but she wants anyways.

Archie doesn't whisper, there's nothing afraid in his eyes and Theresa marvels at how different he's become: "Yeah, I love you."

"I don't know if I love you." Theresa tells him, because it's the truth and Archie deserves that.

She's wonders if she could ever love him.

She's pretty sure she could try.

Archie shrugs, "I don't know if we'll be dead tomorrow. I figure it's worth a shot, if you think so."

Theresa nods after a moment. "Yeah, yeah, it's worth a shot." Archie doesn't move or say anything, so Theresa leans up and kisses him this time. He pulls her in as soon as they make contact, and Theresa lets herself fall into him, her hands wrapping around his neck.

It's kind of amazing, and Theresa thinks maybe Archie had a good idea, starting this. She wonders if he'll still kiss her, even if she never loves him. She wonders if she can love him, wonders if she remembers how.

She pulls away, breathless, and he leans his forehead on hers. She grins at him, and he laughs a little, like they're in on a secret joke together.

"No one is going to understand, you know that right?" Archie tells her, smile still plastered to his face. He doesn't look like he particularly cares.

Theresa beams at him, "I think our friends will surprise both of us. Come on, let's go inside."

She turns to the door, and Archie catches her hand, twining his fingers around hers. She squeezes as hard as she can, watching two of her fingers clasp his as the other three stay still. She returns her gaze to Archie's, and he's watching her with a contemplative look on his face.

Slowly, he lifts their hands to his mouth and kisses the back of her hand, "It's just a few fingers, Theresa. Doesn't change who you are. Do you know that you managed to lift me up three feet and pin me to a wall for ten minutes today?"

Theresa smirks, "It wasn't that hard, I could do it for twenty."

Archie reels her in once more, plants his lips on hers and pulls back only to whisper, "I don't doubt it, princess. I wouldn't doubt it for a second."

When he kisses her this time Theresa wonders if she'll even be able to stop falling in love with him if she tried.


A/N: The line in A Fine Frenzy's song that inspired this is this one "Near to you, I am healing but it's taking so long 'cause though he's gone and you are wonderful, it's hard to move on. Yet, I'm better near to you."