I take a deep breath and drops down in front of the six crosses that overlook the dry yet beautiful land of Africa and carefully dig a whole in the dirt and then place the seventh cross in it carefully patting the dirt around it to make sure that it won’t blow over. For a group that always seemed to small and intimate there were a lot of crosses marking the deaths of the various Scoobies, but then I what else do you expect from a town that has more cemeteries than any other. When Sunnydale was destroyed I couldn’t stand to see the reminder of the people who gave their lives fighting the good fight, it seemed disrespectful in some way. Cordelia Chase is dead. I never thought I would see this day, I never wanted to. She was always one of those people you’d think could and would outlive anyone, well except for the times you wish she’d die and leave all of us in peace. She was one of those people you just loved to hate and loved to love even more and like the other six people lost from out group she was gone as well. They’d all given their lives in their own ways.

Jenny was the only one to ever be killed by one in our own group, she had died at the hands of Angelus leaving Giles destroyed and giving my first real experience with lasting death. Buffy’s death and resurrection less than a year before Jenny’s had made death seem conquerable like no one I truly cared about could be touched. But Jenny was dead and she stayed dead, but I was only a teenager and she was only my teacher and Giles’ girlfriend, a member of our group yes but a distant member.

Kendra died that same year and I have to say that her death was a little closer to home, I mean she was our age and she was dead too. But she’s a slayer, she’s supposed to live so that eventually she can give her life protection the world around her. She’s supposed to die, death can’t keep me down.

Joyce. I remember how angry I was when she died, how angry I was that God would take someone’s mother, more than just someone’s mother more like the entire groups mother, away from us. But I mean there was nothing to be done and she had been sick, we had some warning emotionally I think all of us were on guard, at least a little and even if it was waning.

And then there was Tara. Murdered by a human bullet and the girl who my best friend loved, the one who’s last words were those of concern for Willow. But when she died I was to concerned with helping Willow and then recovering from helping Willow to deal with the fact that Tara was gone, and by the time I was released from the hospital life without Tara had begun without me. Leaving me to adapt or to grieve alone.

When the First visited Willow and Dawn regarding those they had loved and lost it didn’t visit me. It didn’t visit me because I had made it through Sunnydale unscathed, I had never lost anyone I truly loved in Sunnydale, and I counted myself lucky.

Spike has a cross here too, we never really got along but he died saving us and he deserves a place here in Rome, I respect him enough for that. I respect him because he gave his life for Buffy and I realize that he did love her.

Anya died then too. I should have known not to count myself so lucky. When Anya died I understood what everyone had gone through before their entire worlds had fallen apart and mine was left crumbled in the debris of Sunnydale. And for the first time I clearly understood what it was like to loose that one person you love more than anything in a final and complete way and there are still days when my heart yearns to just see and hold her or fight with her, anything, but I can’t do that and for once I understand permanence. I never understood it before, but I do now.

And Cordelia’s cross now rests with everyone else’s, and now I understand. I understands that she’s gone and won’t come back and I understand that like so many others Cordy gave her life to protect everyone else and that gift is permanent, because if you give your life for something it doesn't mean anythig if you give isn't permanent.

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