Work Text:
Angel tossed his full duffel bag on the ground. “I guess that’s it.” He had said a private goodbye to Fred earlier since she was still very shy and reluctant to leave her room in the hotel. Now, he was saying goodbye to the rest of the team.
Angel swore that he felt a cold chill the previous day when the group arrived back from their trip to Pylea and he saw Willow waiting for them in the lobby with a pained look on her face. She came to announce that Buffy had died in their absence.
Buffy, his first love, was no longer part of this world. Angel was still stuck in a state of shock at the horrifying news. Angel had reluctantly forced himself to acknowledge that he and Buffy could never be together years ago, but that didn’t mean that he would know how to handle her death. Despite the short lifespans of Slayers and despite the fact that Angel had seen Buffy die before (to be brought back to life thanks to Xander), Angel always thought, somehow, that Buffy would defy the odds, would survive, would live. He would be okay just as long as she got to live, got to be happy, even if it was without him.
But she had died, and Angel needed to take the time to mourn her passing. That’s why he was taking this trip to a monastery in Sri Lanka. He stared at his friends, unsure how to say goodbye to all of them.
Wesley spoke first. “I hope this journey brings you the peace you are searching for.”
“Thanks, Wes.”
Wes gave a solemn nod.
Gunn clapped him on the shoulder. “Since you’re gonna be gone a while, bring back some souvenirs, man.”
“I will,” Angel promised. Gunn withdrew his hand, and Angel turned to look at Cordy.
She stepped forward to wrap her arms around him. “I’ll miss the hell out of you, broody boy.”
Angel returned the embrace. “I’ll miss you, too.” He wasn’t sure why, but out of all of his friends, he had a feeling he would miss Cordy the most.
Cordy rested her head in the crook of his shoulder and neck. Her hair brushed his cheek. “Don’t stay away too long, okay?”
Angel nodded, feeling strangely emotional when he smelled Cordy’s fruity shampoo. “I won’t be gone that long. Just long enough to get my head on straight.”
“Fair enough. Just so you know, if you totally disappear, I’ll hunt you down and kick your ass.”
Angel started to chuckle at Cordy’s threat, which she could definitely deliver on, but he stopped himself. It felt inappropriate to laugh or smile after Buffy had died. He drew away from the hug, feeling guilty for showing an emotion other than sadness, even for a few seconds.
He picked up the duffel bag he had just dropped on the ground. He stared at Wesley, Gunn, and Cordelia for several seconds. “Bye, guys.” A chorus of goodbyes followed him as he turned around and exited the Hyperion.
