Winter Solstice (Roswell Fanfiction)

Winter Solstice (Part Four)

CHAPTER FOUR

I’m not sure what I just witnessed, but I know we nearly lost her. One minute, Max was healing her, his golden warmth filling the entire room, and then suddenly Liz’s heart seemed to stop, as a raspy, final breath passed her lips like a sigh. In that flash of an instant, Max was on her bed, refusing to let her go. He leapt like a tiger, practically covering her thin, frail body with his own. 

It was an odd sight, another man on top of my wife like that, even if it was Max, and even if it meant her life. 

And he’s still straddling her, even now, his face hovering just above hers, as she blinks in confusion, consciousness overtaking her. For a moment, I suppress the urge to laugh hysterically, as she squints in the half-light at the strange-looking apparition of a man leaning over her. What the hell must Liz be thinking, I think, because damn if I’m not giddy now. Liz just died, and Max was here to bring her back. She died, but now she’s gaping at this strangely bearded, heavyset version of Max, like she has no clue who the hell he is. Like she’s never seen this man, the one breathing so heavily as he leans over her body.

Max slowly eases off the rolling bed, looking awkward and embarrassed for having drawn so physically near her in his efforts to save her life. As if he has one damned thing to apologize for.

I wonder if Liz even knows what happened, as he gently tugs the sheet back over her, nestling it beneath her chin.

“Max?” she whispers, her voice husky and thin. I can see that she’s as surprised by his physical appearance as I was, as she lifts her fingertips to his cheek, touching the thick beard. 

He leans low, and brushes a feather-light kiss against her forehead. “You’re going to be okay now,” he promises gently. 

“Okay.”

“Do you know what happened?” he asks quietly, and I realize I’m just standing beside the bed, staring at them both. My hands are shaking; my shoulders are shaking. Hell, my whole body is just quaking with tremors now that the moment has passed. 

Liz glances tentatively at me, then back at Max, and I draw her hand within my own.

“You…healed me?”

“Yeah, baby,” I say, cutting my eyes at Max. Letting him know not to say anything more right now. He blinks a moment, as he simply nods his head.

“Thank you,” she manages, swallowing hard.

He just smiles, nodding, and tears well within his eyes. For several long moments, the three of us fall silent, as Max leans back in the chair, closing his eyes. A thin sheen of sweat has broken out on his brow, and I can see just by looking at him what this healing cost him physically. His breathing is heavy and labored, and he rubs a weary hand across his eyes. Liz watches quietly, blinking a bit as she studies him.

“What’s with,” she draws in a shaky breath, pausing a moment for strength, then finally adds, “The beard?”

Max’s eyes flutter open, and for a moment he stares at her in surprise, then a gentle smile spreads over his features, and I feel like I see the old Max again for a moment.

“Didn’t you recognize me?” he teases, adjusting his down vest a bit self-consciously, as he shifts in the chair. 

“Barely,” she says, closing her eyes again. “Of course…I’d know those hands…anywhere.”

And she’s gone again, only this time her breathing falls into a soft rhythm, and I know a healing sleep has overtaken her.

Max glances at me warily for a moment, then immediately looks away, and I wonder what he’s thinking. But another question presses hard within my mind quite suddenly.