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Alive

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Added to the Roswell Slash Archive March 13, 2001

Title: Alive
Author: Ender
Email: jjazman@email.msn.com
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.
Category: Slash, Other
Author's Notes: Kind of a dreamer angst fic with a little Liz/Maria action thrown in.
Deals with character death. It's Liz's POV.
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please.



        I stand by the gravesite and watch as their bodies are lowered into the ground. I listen to Maria's sobs, her mother's murmured words of comfort. I marvel at my composure. Michael, Isabel, Tess, Max. They're all dead. My future is dead. And I'm not crying.

        I feel nothing. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be dead.

        I follow my parents through the cemetery to their car. I glance over and see Mr. And Mrs. Evans walking parallel to us. They look the way I always imagined war refugees would look. Shell-shocked.

        We follow them to their house where people are already gathered, bearing casseroles as if they're presents. I remember when my grandmother died and how everyone drank wine and shared their memories of her.

        Once inside, I spot Maria. She looks so lost. Her mascara is a damp blur underneath her eyes, and her lip gloss is hardly there, just a little smear around the corners of her mouth. Tears are still streaming down her face, and her nose is running a little. She doesn't seem to notice.

        When she sees me, she nods and moves toward me. I hug her because it's what's expected but I'm already thinking ahead, planning how we're going to get into Max's and Isabel's rooms. It's our job to get rid of any evidence they might have left behind of their alien heritage. Sheriff Valenti has already gone through Michael's and Tess's things.

        We agree to mingle for ten minutes and then meet up in Max's room. I don't notice until Maria is walking away that she's not wearing a watch.

        Fifteen minutes later I'm in Max's room. I could search his things for hidden messages about how he felt about me. I always wanted to do that before, even when we were together and he had told me that he loved me. Now I just want to get the healing stones and whatever other alien stuff was in here and leave.

        Maria walks in a few minutes later and watches me without saying anything. She can't understand why I haven't cried since they died. And I can't tell her the reason because I don't know why.

        I finally look up at her. "Are you going to help me with this? We need to find this stuff before somebody misses us."

        She glares at me. "What the hell is wrong with you? How can you stand there and go through his things like he was some kind of stranger. I thought that you loved him."

        She turns away from me, and I study the way her shoulders rise and fall with her sobbing. I remind myself that it's not her fault. She's just having a normal grief reaction. It'll pass in time.

        She tenses when I put my hands on her shoulders but doesn't resist when I turn her around and pull her into my arms. She clings to me, and I can feel her tears on my neck.

        She pulls back and moans, "Oh God, Liz, it just hurts so much."

        I murmur senseless soothing nothings to her and brush the tears away from her cheeks. I run my thumbs under her eyes to rub away the mascara. Then I rub one thumb over her mouth to wipe off the last traces of lip gloss. I hear her gasp and suddenly I look up into her eyes.

        She looks back, but no there's something in her eyes besides sadness. Without knowing why, I lean over and kiss her.

        Her lips are soft and they taste slightly salty from her tears. But they're warm, so warm. I want to feel that warmth. She clings to me like before but it's a different kind of clinging. Her hands move up to my face and pull me closer, her lips moving frantically against mine.

        My hands move down and under her shirt. Her skin is warm. God, so warm. And when my mouth moves down to kiss her neck, I can feel the pulse in her throat jump against my lips.

        We move together toward the bed, never breaking contact. And for the first time I don't think about anything because I can actually feel. She is warm and soft, and she feels so alive. I feel so alive.

        When it's over, she rolls away from me and I hear her start to cry again. I don't try to touch her again. I just stare at the ceiling and try to understand what just happened.

        I'm hit suddenly with a memory of Max, the way he kissed me the first time, how I felt so alive, like stars were exploding inside my body. He was supposed to be my first. He was supposed to be the one I'd spend the rest of my life with. He was the one I was supposed to marry.

        And then I start to cry. It hurts.

        Because it means that I'm alive.

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