---

I know what's coming. For all Buffy's intricate plans and different angles and inside information, we aren't all coming out of the ascension alive. I'm not.

At first, it was only a feeling. We'd be sitting, talking about what to do when it came time to face the Mayor, and all of a sudden, the hair on the back of my neck would stand up, and I'd break out in goose bumps. For all the scary shit we've faced, that hadn't ever happened before, and it set me on edge. Then, the dreams started coming. A week ago tomorrow, I dreamt my own death. I saw us filing into out seats, caps and gowns donned, assorted weaponry tucked safely beneath the folds. I saw the Mayor begin his speech; I saw the sky go dark as the sun was blotted out. I saw myself - cradled in Willow's arms, unconscious and bleeding. I saw the deep wound to my gut, passing straight through.

When I woke up I tried to convince myself it was just a dream, like any partially sane person would. But they kept coming, and each morning I became more and more…well, not so much accepting, but honest with myself, that it wasn't a dream, it was some kind of freaky premonition. By now, it's just a fact. I know the sky is blue, I know my best friend has red hair, and I know I'm going to die tomorrow.

Somewhere up there, someone must want me to make peace with my life, and with my friends. I guess I should be saying thank you, but this is the hardest thing I'll ever do. Writing these letters, saying goodbye to the people I love.

But I have too. And I will, even if it takes me all night.

---

Dear Giles,

There's a lot of things I'd like to say, but I'm not sure how, so bear with me. This letter may make very little sense.

I wont bother saying, "If you're reading this, I must be dead." You are. I am. I'd explain how I know, but I'm not even totally sure myself. I suppose someone wants me to be able to say good-bye.

In 3 years, you were more of a father to me than my dad was in 18. There is nothing I wouldn't do to make you proud of me. I hope that, however it is I died, it happened for a reason, and that it did some good. I hope you'll understand why I didn't tell you all this before, to try and find a way to stop it.

I know I frustrate you sometimes. Or maybe all of the time, whatever. I like to think sometimes you didn't think I was as big an idiot as most people do. I know I don't think as little of you as my constant ribbing would suggest. I know you know that. I'm not the strongest of our little gang, or the smartest. There isn't a whole lot about me that's terribly unique at all, actually. But you always found a way to make me useful, and to keep me in the fight. Thank you.


Along with this letter, I'm sending along a box. Inside, there's letters for everyone, even Angel, and a few other things. Keep the blue journal, I wrote down everything I can remember about what we've faced since we all met. I hope somehow, it'll be useful, even if you have your own accounts. Give the big yellow envelope to Willow and Buffy, and the smaller one to Angel. Most of my savings are in the smaller box. Do whatever you want with them, but be sure and spend it. If I cant, someone should.

If I can swing it, I'm going to try and track down my diploma. If I do, and it's on me when I see you, or you find me, keep it. I worked damn hard for that piece of paper.
I have a lot of letters left to write, so I'll finish up. Watch over the gang for me, and watch after yourself. I don't want to be seeing any of you for a very long time.

I'll miss you, G-Man.
Xander

---

Dear Angel,

If you keep making a face like that, it'll get stuck that way. I hope your expression is something other than the typical broody one as you read this. I'm sure you weren't expecting a letter, but I think I'll use this opportunity to force my opinions on you one last time.

We both know I wasn't the nicest person in the world to you. I'm sorry for that. There are quite a few reasons why I never liked you much, but they seem a bit trivial now. The important thing is that, while I never liked you, over the last year I've grown to respect you. The R word doesn't come out of my mouth, or my pen, often, so remember it well.

Leaving Buffy is something that must have been incredibly hard, but you did it for her sake, and that's something I'm not sure I ever could. Be that as it may, don't leave her.

What did I tell you about making that face? Hear me out.

College isn't going to be easy for Buffy. Hell, life isn't going to be easy for Buffy. She has the world on her shoulders, and someone needs to help her get rid of a little of that weight. I know you can do that. I've seen you do that. Find a way to make it work. I don't care how, but do it. When she's with you, she's happy. In her line of work, I imagine that's not an emotion that comes often.

Before you consider not hating me as much as you deserve to, there's something you should probably know. When Buffy sent you to hell, it was partially my fault. Willow was trying the spell again, and as we both know, it worked. I knew, I was supposed to tell her. I didn't. If I had, maybe she would have been able to stall you, Angelus, or whoever. I never told her, I'm a little afraid to. At the time, I was sure I was doing it for good reasons, that if she was trying to stall you, she wouldn't give the fight everything. Looking back, there was probably a little jealousy in there. If you want to tell her, go ahead. But at least now you know.

Giles should be giving you an envelope along with the letter. There's some pictures of Buffy in it, with Willow. I took them a few months ago, when we were actually acting like a bunch of teenagers. She's outside and it's daylight - she's prettier that way. They don't do her justice, but it's something. There's also some research I dug up. Impending death, evidently, makes one very studious. Most of it's on gypsy curses and counter curses and other miscellaneous junk. Maybe Willow can do something with it, tweak at your curse. I hope so.

Take care of them for me. Try to keep them safe. Make up some lie about death not being so bad. Coming from you, they'll probably believe it.
Xander

---

Dear Oz,

After Jesse, who you never met, died, I think you were the closest I've ever come to having a friend of the male persuasion. You've always been laid back and pretty accepting of my oddities, and even though I completely stabbed you in the back when Willow and I got a little nutty, you forgave me. I never meant for what happened with Willow to happen, and I never should have let it go as far as it did. I'm sorry, for that. Thank you for forgiving me, and thank you for forgiving her.

Willow is a special kind of person. There aren't enough people like her in the world. I'm not if there are any. Take care of her, and make her happy. She deserves someone to. I wish, now, that it could have been me, but you are, by far, the better man for the job.

If you don't mind too much, try and make sure she doesn't get too out of control with the witchcraft. If you ever see her getting to the point that she's going to end up hurting herself, I know you'll stop it. If she isn't careful, she's going to get burned.

You're a good guy. Don't ever change, Oz.
Xander

---

Dear Cordelia,

There are a lot of things I regret doing in my life. Hurting you is way up there on the list. I never meant for it to happen, and I'd sell numerous appendages to change it. But since I cant, I'll settle for a heartfelt apology.

Cordy, I am so, so sorry that we ended the way we did. And while things aren't quite the same, friendship wise, I am so glad we managed to come to some kind of mutual understanding and pseudo-friendship. You looked beautiful in the dress.

If it's not too much to ask, seriously consider your choice in getting romantically involved with the 30-something year old man. I want you to be happy, but old English guys are not the answer. If you must, date Giles.

Wherever it is that you end up next year, I hope you like it. Let people see the real you more often, I speak from experience when I say that it's a beautiful person you have in there.

Be happy, live well, and if you ever become a famous actress, mention me in your acceptance speech.
Xander

---

Dear Buffy,

It's no secret that I've loved you since the day I met you, requited or otherwise. What we had was, I like to think, a lot more than that, though. I'm almost glad we kept our friendship and never took it further, because you don't belong with me, and it would have had a messy ending, inevitably.
You're my hero. I know I've never said it, and I wish that I have the time now to tell you to your face, but I haven't and I don't, so I'll put it here.

There hasn't been a single time in the last 3 years that I've faced something scary and not thought about how you would handle it. You're one of the strongest people I know, inside and out, and the strength I've gotten from you has been one of the only things that's gotten me through all the crap we've managed to pull off.

I'm not sure you're reminded enough, so here it is in black and white. You are not Buffy Summers, the slayer. You are Buffy Summers, the friend, and the woman. You are such an amazing person, so don't let some dumb destiny assure you otherwise.

If I know you as well as I think I do, then you're blaming yourself for this. Don't. I know what's ahead, and I'm as ok with it as I can be. You cant hold yourself responsible for everything that happens, like you have in the past. Start a new trend, and accept that there was nothing you could have done to change this. Do it for me.

Try and make it work with Angel. He makes you happy, and you deserve that. Don't let anyone, or anything, stand in the way. If you guys aren't love, I don't know what is.

Either you or Willow will be getting an envelope from Giles. Mostly, it's just pictures and stuff I have of you two, or of all of us.

You're one of my best friends, Buffy, and I love you.
Xander

---

Dear Willow,

This letter is the most painful think I've ever had to say, or write. What you're reading write now is the last of many, many drafts. I hope it conveys what I want it to.

I love you. As my best friend, as my sanctuary from life's crazy twists, and as the girl that, if given the option and the second chance, I would marry in a heartbeat. You mean absolutely everything to me, and even though we've let our friendship fall apart since the "clothes fluke," you are still the most important person in my life. There is so much I never would have been able to get through without you. My parents, Jesse's death, high school, Cordelia (That was a joke. Smile.)…it all would have been impossible without your shoulder. We've had way more than our fair share of crap over the years, but we managed to get this far, almost entirely because of you. Thank you, Wills.

Oz is such a great guy. If you end up with him in the long run or not, enjoy it. Make him happy the way you made me happy and I doubt you'll ever have problems. Even if it's not with Oz, get married. Dance in the rain with your husband. Have lots of kids. Name one after Jesse. Hell, name a girl after Jesse. He'd be mortified.

That was also a joke. I'm a funny person. Humor me and giggle at the paper. I know you want too.

Angel should be giving you some research I dug up. If he doesn't, ask him for it. Badger him the way I used to, he'll cave. I hope you can do something with it to help him and Buffy out. I owe them that.

Either you or Buffy should be getting a big envelope from Giles. I bet you'll recognize a lot of the stuff in there. Most of it's pictures and mementos I've kept over the years. Some of it's pure crap, but it brings back nice memories.

I want you to do me two favors, Will. The first isn't that hard. You know where I stash my journals and things I like to hide. Get them from my room for me? If you don't, my parents will just throw them out. I'd rather my stuff not me lost to the Salvation Army like that. I don't care what you do with it all, but please don't let it get tossed. My whole life's in those journals, but I cant bring myself to put them in the mail.

The second will probably be a little more difficult. If we win, if the Mayor's dead by the time you read this, Faith's going to be all alone in the world when, if, she wakes up. Help her. Being alone is the worst thing to wake up to, be it after a nap or after a coma. Somewhere in there I bet she's not so bad. Forgive her for trying to kill us if you can, we've had people do worse.
Wherever I am right now, Will, I bet I'm ok. I know you worry about stuff a lot, but don't worry about this. However I died, I hope it was one of those brave but stupid things they show in cheesy romance movies and action flicks. I hope nobody else got too hurt.

It's getting late. We're supposed to all meet in the library and go over everything one more time before tomorrow. I know it's normal, but I'm so scared. I don't want to die.

If I don't fight it, I'm almost positive you'll, at least, be ok. That makes it worth it.

I love you, Willow.
Xander

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On May 25, 1999, a group of graduating seniors blew up the Sunnydale High School in order to save the world. Along with the principal of the school and the Mayor of Sunnydale, several students were killed. Alexander 'Xander' Harris was one of them.