My sister was absolutely heartbroken to the point of silent tears when Angel died in Apocalypse and nobody cared. He was just crumpled up and tossed aside. I wrote this drabble to try and give him a missing scene that pays him respect.
"What did I miss?"
The end of the world, apparently. Or very near it. Kurt listened in stunned silence, standing when he felt strong enough and walking out to the torn precipice Apocalypse had made of their safe house. His tail swung uncertainly and his brow furrowed, fingers working at his sides. So much death—so much destruction. The others were relieved because they'd won. Charles had nearly died, but Jean saved him.
What of everyone else? "What happened to the others?" he asked over the excited chattering and relieved expressions the others were exchanging. He had his back to them, but when they didn't answer he turned to look over his shoulder, the desert wind pulling at his hair.
"Others?" Jean asked, her brow furrowed. "We're all here."
He pressed his lips together. "Not all of us. The horsemen," he gestured at the landscape. "What happened to them?"
"I—they left, didn't they?" Beast said, uncertainty tainting him. "I'm sure they're fine."
"What about Angel?" Kurt pressed. "Has anyone seen Angel?"
They all just stared at him, either not knowing or not understanding his concern. That struck Kurt and his brow knit in anger and hurt and before Xavier could finish telling him to wait he'd teleported away. He continued through the wasteland, the heat and the strain from the battle taxing him, but he didn't let up. He had to find the other boy, had to know one way or the other.
He stopped, trembling and sweating after his fifteenth teleport, psyching himself out to go again when the silver of a half-buried feather caught his eye. He went towards it, following the trail of broken feathers until he found the boy laying buried and still beneath cruel chunks of rock. Pain struck through Kurt's breast and he went slowly forward, kneeling at Angel's side.
He blinked, his brow knitting as a shocked tear wet his cheek. This was wrong. This was no victory at all. He took a shaky breath and swallowed, trying to unstick his mouth so he could do what he knew was his duty.
"God our father," he began, tearing a cloth from his armor and using it to wipe away the blood and dirt from Angel's face. "Your power brings us to birth, your providence guides our lives, and by your command we return to dust." His voice broke on the last word. He lifted a chunk of rock from Angel's chest and threw it aside, trying to ignore the blood.
"Lord, those who die still live in your presence," he said softly, tears clogging his voice. "Their lives change but do not end. I pray in hope for my family, relatives and friends." He closed his eyes and bowed his head, clasping Angel's hand and concentrating, teleporting them both to a space of open ground. He looked up, tears and sand making his eyes sting. So much desolation. "And for all the dead known to you alone," he added in a whisper.
He placed first one, then the other of Angel's arms across his chest, arranging him with care. "In company with Christ, who died and now lives, may they rejoice in your kingdom, where all our tears are wiped away." He wiped blood from Angel's cheek, dashing away one of his own tears as he struggled to finish. "Unite us together again in one family, to sing your praise forever and ever."
His tail swayed sadly and he kissed the cross he'd kept at his hip, pressing it between Angel's folded hands. He bent closer and touched a kiss to Angel's forehead, pulling away and keeping his head bowed respectfully as he stood again, his hand held near his heart.
"Amen."
And he was gone in a wash of smoke.