Disclaimer: I own none of these characters at all, That is the pleasure of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

AN: This is my first attempt at writing anything so please be gentle. Constructive criticism please if any.

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'Buffy'

As she shut her eyes, as her body surrendered, she felt what could only be described as pure bliss, complete and utter joy, ecstasy. A wave of emotion flooded her senses. She felt weightless, completely unconnected to anything. Unbound from all ties to the earth she was sworn to protect.

Finally after months – even years (although she would never admit it to anyone least of all him) – her wish had come true. She could finally give in to herself; attain what she had wanted, needed for so long. He, of course, had been right all along about what she wanted, wished for, He knew her better than she herself did. For a split second she wondered when he had become so clever, so wise, so…

As she felt herself letting go her train of thought switched, and Buffy thought of one thing, her one regret throughout her entire life her one burden – She had never told him how she really felt. And with that singular final thought, she died.

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'Willow'

"Buffy" she screamed her friends name even as she watched her fall, even as she realised she would be too late, her friend was already gone. Unable to stop herself she screamed again, knowing it was pointless but having to try all the same. She saw the amount of blood, the stained sword, the wound, and strangely enough, the look of complete peace with her situation on the slayer's face.

Not really that surprising she thought to herself she has died before, twice now, and last time we yanked her out of heaven so yeah she's probably thinking about going back.

Her opponent used her hesitation, she never saw him smirk, aim and drive the huge sword he was wielding straight up and through her chest. She felt it however, and her head swung around with a lightning speed, to see the grin on his face, as she felt the white hot pain exploding in her chest and taking it over.

Willow mumbled one word, so quietly not even her attacker heard it … "Xander…" Her final thought… "I should have been quicker"

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'Xander'

His back was to them, He didn't see his best friends fall, thought they were still fighting behind him, and thought he was still protecting them in some way. He fought on through their deaths, didn't hear willows scream.

He dodged one sword but didn't see a well timed punch that connected with his jaw with a sickening crunch.

The force spun him around, and he saw them, lying where they had fallen. Their life's blood flowing freely from their chests, mingled amongst a mess of red and blonde hair. One with a look of such peace and acceptance on her face, the other with a look of pure horror and sadness. He almost caught one final whisper, thought he could almost make out what she said, but not quite.

He couldn't understand why, when this had happened how he hadn't noticed, but before he had the chance to answer himself, he too felt the cool steel of the sword's blade sink into his chest from behind felt his chest explode in an outburst of red as the sword came out though his chest.

As he died Xander wept for his friends, his true family, and his one last thought was for them, was "why wasn't I good enough to save them."

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'Giles'

They had all come here because of him because he thought this was where they should have been, that they could easily win this one. Well didn't they always win, hadn't they beaten the evil before.

He was to blame, He knew it. He watched them die and knew that he would die too. This was one battle they wouldn't win.

He watched as Buffy accepted her death will cool serenity, as Willow saw and died with horror, as Xander fought on unknowing only to be spun and see his dead comrades and then to die confused wondering how.

He watched and he knew and all the time he fought on fought his own battle, both internal and external. He wept for the people he had come to regard as his own children, after all they had almost depended upon him since they were 16. He wept and regretted his choice.

He fought till his muscles hurt, till he was exhausted, he knew he would lose, couldn't bear to fight on knowing. He stopped, unable to bring himself to block the sword blade aimed at him. As he died he was thankful it was over, but filled with regret and anger at himself. Desolate that he led his surrogate family into the battle that brought their deaths. His final thought was what have I done?