AN – Hey y'all! It's been a while since I've written anything for FF, but the Roswell reboot has me back in the writing mood. I'm loving these new takes on all my favorite old characters, and am desperately hoping that it is renewed for a second season! If you're following Whiskey and Tequila, I'll update that one soon. However, that finale has me all in my Liz and Max feels, so I'm writing this one in tandem.

This picks up immediately after the finale ends, and is my take on what happens next. As always – I don't own the characters (or even the set up, this time) – I just own my plotline. Enjoy!

Shaking, Liz rushed to Max's side. His eyes were wide open, his body limp and lifeless. She could feel the constricting pain squeezing in her chest, telling her that he was rapidly slipping away with each passing moment. "Goddamnit, Max!" she screamed inside her head, simultaneously loving and hating him for what he had done – for what he had given her… and what it had cost.

She felt herself moving into autopilot, drawing on her years of medical training and pulling away from her emotions as she assessed the man in front of her. She could feel that he wasn't gone – not yet, but that he did not have much time. The stress of the… resurrection (even thinking the word made her shudder in uncertainty) had sent him into cardiac arrest. His heart was convulsing in his chest like a gelatinous blob and dammit! There was no defibrillator around.

"Okay, Liz – think, think," she muttered to herself, closing her eyes and drawing on all her medical knowledge. There was only one thing that *might* save him – with strong emphasis on might. She began chest compressions as she worked up the nerve to perform the precordial thump. She knew full well that the success rate of such a rudimentary procedure was dismal – she also knew that this was the only choice that she had. She balled her fist up tightly, and mustered all of the anger and fear and sadness washing through her together before punching Max as hard as she could in the chest. She continued CPR, ignoring the pounding in her right hand from the blow. She could feel Max's energy stabilizing, and his heart returning to a normal (albeit faint) rhythm. Without wasting time and with more strength than she thought it possible to muster, she covered Max, clothes and all, with as much of the liquid metal as she could and sloppily forced his body into the stasis pod.

Behind her, Liz heard a slight commotion as Michael and Isobel arrived at the cave. They both rushed in to see Liz's tear streaked face as she kept one hand inside the pod, just over the rapidly forming bruise on his chest. Michael and Isobel didn't need an explanation – the terrified and dubious Rosa in the corner was all they needed to know what Max had done. So instead, Liz turned to them and said, "His heart is weak, but still beating" before crumpling in her own corner, awash with the full implications of what had just happened.

Some time later, Liz awoke in Max's bed. For a moment, she was convinced that it was all a dream – that she'd somehow imagined it all. Maybe she was going crazy? God, she hoped that she was going crazy.

Then she noticed Michael in the chair at the foot of the bed, looking at her with a level of pity she didn't think he was capable of… and she knew.

"So it's real after all, huh?" she breathed out quietly, afraid that the chaos would return if it knew she was awake, somehow. Michael simply nodded his head slowly, tears bright in his eyes and threatening to spill over. Liz nodded, but didn't say anything else, unsure of even her own voice. After a long moment, she gathered the nerve to ask about the *other* thing that had happened today.

"Michael," she whispered, "where is my sister?"

"She's in the living room, with Isobel and… Kyle," he said, dropping his head. Her heart went out to Michael as well. Max may as well have been his brother – this couldn't be easy for him, for any of them. Still, there was something else that Liz had to know. "Michael… is it… really her? I mean, it's been 10 years. Is she… still human?"

He surprised her by letting out a small, sad laugh before looking her in the eyes and nodding. "Yeah, Liz – it's really her. And she doesn't seem interested in snacking on any brains, so I think it's safe to say that she isn't a zombie."

A small pang of guilt washed over Liz, along with the relief she suddenly felt. Rosa was back – Rosa was here. Rosa was hers again. She'd spent an entire decade trying to figure out how to live without this person who was essentially her other half. And now she had her again – Max had given her back to Liz… but at what cost?

"Does she know what happened? Does she know it's been 10 years?"

"Yeah… about that…" Michael trailed off. Suddenly, Liz didn't like where this was going. "You've been out for a while, Liz – 16 hours to be exact. We were worried about you, but it didn't take Rosa long to figure out that everyone looks so much different. Or that she doesn't recognize… much of anything along the lines of technology. We called Kyle over to check her out, and also so that she would feel less alone. I'm sure you can understand that Isobel isn't exactly what she needs to feel comfortable right now. She freaked out pretty badly when she realized she'd basically been in a coma for a decade… we didn't tell her that she was actually dead, but we probably should considering that the rest of Roswell is going to notice something as soon as she shows back up."

"Has Kyle… has anyone checked on…" Liz couldn't bring herself to say the words yet – she couldn't. Not while she was laying in his bed, wrapped up in sheets that smelled just like him. This morning everything had been so perfect and now… now she was losing him right as soon as she figured out that she loved him?

"We haven't – not yet. We are trying to figure out how to move the pod without disturbing him too much. Kyle says that if he was in cardiac arrest, he needs state of the art care as soon as we remove him from stasis, but you know as well as I do that that cave is not exactly built for emergency medical care. Liz felt her face crumple as another wave of anguish and guilt and grief washed over her. Unexpectedly, Michael moved to wrap his arms around her in a hug.

"This is not your fault, Liz. Max did this all on his own." He was a bit taken aback when she grabbed his shirt, crying into his chest, mumbling something about "but he did this for me."

"Hey, hey, hey – look at me," Michael said, pulling her away from him slightly and moving her face so her eyes met his. "You are the single most important person in the world to Max – but his choices are not your fault. And hell – you saved him! If you hadn't shown up – if you hadn't known what to do, he wouldn't even have a chance right now. You gave him a chance to live, and he gave you your sister back. Now, don't you want to go meet her?"

Liz stopped for a moment, gathering (or steeling) herself. She dried her face and wiped her hands and went through a number of other stalling techniques before finally looking up at Michael and nodding her head. She was ready now… ready to go see Rosa.