Angel could've stayed. He could've gathered the necessary materials from the hotel, loaded them up on the dragon's back and instructed him to take it and Faith back to the door they left propped open, but he didn't. He returned alongside her, carting weapons, references, and invaluable resources that likely no longer existed in the version of the world Buffy, her sister, and Faith belonged to. Angel didn't know if he, as he existed now, would ever be a part of that divergent stream of time, but he did know that helping to restore balance to that world currently took precedence over dragging Los Angeles out of hell.
Oftentimes, what one wanted to do was not what they needed to do, and that's a lesson in life that the former vampire's intimately familiar with. Even though he wanted nothing more than to remain in LA to fight the good fight against a force that was determined to keep them down (literally), he was needed in the quest to restore magic. He could set that aside from now, abandon his city willingly, and return to the hotel in order to assist with a cause that was, at the moment, greater than his own.
His choices were not the easiest in life. (Or death.)
It's with an armful of ancient texts, some frayed around the edges from the wear and tear they've seen, that he steps into the conference room in the lobby they've commandeered. He takes a seat a the head of the table out of habit, half expecting Harmony to pop her head in the room to ask if she should send whatever demon clan was waiting for him in the lobby inside.
no subject
Angel could've stayed. He could've gathered the necessary materials from the hotel, loaded them up on the dragon's back and instructed him to take it and Faith back to the door they left propped open, but he didn't. He returned alongside her, carting weapons, references, and invaluable resources that likely no longer existed in the version of the world Buffy, her sister, and Faith belonged to. Angel didn't know if he, as he existed now, would ever be a part of that divergent stream of time, but he did know that helping to restore balance to that world currently took precedence over dragging Los Angeles out of hell.
Oftentimes, what one wanted to do was not what they needed to do, and that's a lesson in life that the former vampire's intimately familiar with. Even though he wanted nothing more than to remain in LA to fight the good fight against a force that was determined to keep them down (literally), he was needed in the quest to restore magic. He could set that aside from now, abandon his city willingly, and return to the hotel in order to assist with a cause that was, at the moment, greater than his own.
His choices were not the easiest in life. (Or death.)
It's with an armful of ancient texts, some frayed around the edges from the wear and tear they've seen, that he steps into the conference room in the lobby they've commandeered. He takes a seat a the head of the table out of habit, half expecting Harmony to pop her head in the room to ask if she should send whatever demon clan was waiting for him in the lobby inside.
He almost misses those days. Almost.