Title: "Recalled to Life"
Author: Allana
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Summary: Sequel to "Buried", or the exciting conclusion to "Buried".
Dedication: To Jo, by beta reader, and to those who asked if there was more. Here it is
?.
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell, and Mr. Charles Dickens should get some credit for
the inspiration. The first book of his novel, A Tale of Two Cities, is also called "Recalled
to Life".
The knife came down. Liz felt it bite through her stomach, slicing through each
muscle fiber. She felt the cold air sucking her warm life through the wound. Blood
spilled over her hands as she held the knife firmly in place. She did not scream. There
was only the utterance of a low moan as she slumped to the floor. By now, she was in a
puddle of her own blood, feeling her life sap away… She didn't want to feel any more
pain.
Her vision began to blur, not to black or white, but lavender. Lavender stars,
floating in V-shaped constellations over her head. Lavender music, twisting through her
ears with tunes of "I Shall Believe." Then she saw Max's face, looking the way it did the
day he saved her life at the Crashdown, desperate and deeply concerned. Oh, his soulful
brown eyes…
*I'll die with a happy memory,* she though vaguely.
"Liz, look at me."
She was drowning, but the voice was pulling her back towards the surface. She
felt a warm hand at the back of her head. Liz blinked.
The image of Max came more into focus. She was shocked at the sudden
realization that he was actually there. She felt him pull the knife from her hands and out
of her abdomen. Once again, his hand was on her bare stomach, covering the wound.
Once again, she was being brought back by an alien. Once again, they exchanged
flashes.
From Liz to Max: Eighteen years of numbness, not caring from day to day. Of
course, only the days were numb. After the set of day, there came the nightmares and the
longing, the only time when she admitted to herself that she was lost. She had needed
Max constantly for eighteen years.
From Max to Liz: Eighteen years of loneliness, trying to stay brave for his family
and friends. At night he barely slept, thinking of Liz and praying that she was all right.
He had needed Liz constantly for eighteen years…
Liz felt the wound close and the pain cease, though she still felt dizzy from the
loss of blood. She smiled weakly at Max before she passed out, exhausted. It was the
first time she'd smiled and meant it, in eighteen years.
Max repositioned himself behind Liz and gently pulled her small frame onto his
lap and cradled her in his arms. He held her close. He wasn't going to let her go again.
Strong fingers lovingly touched her stomach, which now showed a silver handprint.
A few moments later, Liz awoke. For a while she said nothing, but simply leaned
her head upon Max's chest, savoring the feeling she had withheld from herself for
eighteen years. She finally said, "I was wrong to leave."
"I was wrong to let you go," came the reply.
Yet there was still an old weight to be lifted.
"Max, I have to tell you something."
"What's that?"
"I'm still a virgin."
~~*~~
Max carried Liz out of the Elvis Chapel in Las Vegas. It was just like the visions
they had had of that moment. Liz hastily threw her lavender and white rose bouquet,
which was caught by Tess. The newlyweds got into a waiting taxi, bombarded with
showers of rice from Kyle, Tess (who wore an engagement ring), Isabel, Michael, Maria,
and Alex, their three-year-old son.
And Max and Liz's lives were truly beginning again, because they had been
"recalled to life."
Author: Allana
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Summary: Sequel to "Buried", or the exciting conclusion to "Buried".
Dedication: To Jo, by beta reader, and to those who asked if there was more. Here it is
?.
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell, and Mr. Charles Dickens should get some credit for
the inspiration. The first book of his novel, A Tale of Two Cities, is also called "Recalled
to Life".
The knife came down. Liz felt it bite through her stomach, slicing through each
muscle fiber. She felt the cold air sucking her warm life through the wound. Blood
spilled over her hands as she held the knife firmly in place. She did not scream. There
was only the utterance of a low moan as she slumped to the floor. By now, she was in a
puddle of her own blood, feeling her life sap away… She didn't want to feel any more
pain.
Her vision began to blur, not to black or white, but lavender. Lavender stars,
floating in V-shaped constellations over her head. Lavender music, twisting through her
ears with tunes of "I Shall Believe." Then she saw Max's face, looking the way it did the
day he saved her life at the Crashdown, desperate and deeply concerned. Oh, his soulful
brown eyes…
*I'll die with a happy memory,* she though vaguely.
"Liz, look at me."
She was drowning, but the voice was pulling her back towards the surface. She
felt a warm hand at the back of her head. Liz blinked.
The image of Max came more into focus. She was shocked at the sudden
realization that he was actually there. She felt him pull the knife from her hands and out
of her abdomen. Once again, his hand was on her bare stomach, covering the wound.
Once again, she was being brought back by an alien. Once again, they exchanged
flashes.
From Liz to Max: Eighteen years of numbness, not caring from day to day. Of
course, only the days were numb. After the set of day, there came the nightmares and the
longing, the only time when she admitted to herself that she was lost. She had needed
Max constantly for eighteen years.
From Max to Liz: Eighteen years of loneliness, trying to stay brave for his family
and friends. At night he barely slept, thinking of Liz and praying that she was all right.
He had needed Liz constantly for eighteen years…
Liz felt the wound close and the pain cease, though she still felt dizzy from the
loss of blood. She smiled weakly at Max before she passed out, exhausted. It was the
first time she'd smiled and meant it, in eighteen years.
Max repositioned himself behind Liz and gently pulled her small frame onto his
lap and cradled her in his arms. He held her close. He wasn't going to let her go again.
Strong fingers lovingly touched her stomach, which now showed a silver handprint.
A few moments later, Liz awoke. For a while she said nothing, but simply leaned
her head upon Max's chest, savoring the feeling she had withheld from herself for
eighteen years. She finally said, "I was wrong to leave."
"I was wrong to let you go," came the reply.
Yet there was still an old weight to be lifted.
"Max, I have to tell you something."
"What's that?"
"I'm still a virgin."
~~*~~
Max carried Liz out of the Elvis Chapel in Las Vegas. It was just like the visions
they had had of that moment. Liz hastily threw her lavender and white rose bouquet,
which was caught by Tess. The newlyweds got into a waiting taxi, bombarded with
showers of rice from Kyle, Tess (who wore an engagement ring), Isabel, Michael, Maria,
and Alex, their three-year-old son.
And Max and Liz's lives were truly beginning again, because they had been
"recalled to life."