Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or any of the characters

A/N: Please review, it will mean A LOT to me! Okay, now to the story.

I felt cold, colder than cold, like I went to absolute zero, and then "Boom!"

The car windshield and windows cracked, one of them broke, scattering blunt pieces of glass throughout the vehicle. The metal frame moaned, as it was bent. Then the automobile skidded down street for a bit and stopped.

"Wesley," Fred screamed.

"Fred are you alright?" I asked looking at the gash on her left shoulder. I was looking at her left shoulder, that was impossible if I was driving in a British car. Oh well, I must have been thrown in the crash.

"Oh my God! Wesley!" she shouted again.

"I'm right here Fred," I tried comfort her and put my hand on her arm, but it went right through. She was shaking something. I looked up and I saw myself, or rather, my bloody body.

I was dead.

A tall, middle-aged, brunette woman went right through me and swung the dented passenger door open. She put her motherly, gaunt hands on Fred.

"Miss are you alright-" the woman gasped at the sight of my body. They wasn't anything that suggested I was dead, my neck wasn't at an odd angle, I was cut but nothing major but you could just tell, or rather feel.

"Come out Miss," the woman pulled Fred out of the vehicle. She was bawling and repeating my name.

A sick part of myself was glad to see her cry. That she cared about me. Another, larger, part did want her to see her in that kind of pain.

A blond female companion of the woman handed her the cell phone, "Just called the hospital, an ambulance will be here soon"

The lady looked at Fred with caring but pitying eyes, "I'm Maggie Brantley, is there anyone I can call for you dear,"

Fred managed to tell Maggie Angel's cell phone number.

Being a ghost, I supposed that is what I was, I could get close enough to hear the other line. The phone rang twice before Angel picked it up.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello sir," Maggie replied coolly.

"Can I help?" he asked, a little confused.

"I regret having to tell you that your friends have been in a car accident. They were driving on Motorway 25 and a SUV from another street plowed right into to them."

"Are-are they okay?"

"The woman has a nasty cut but other than that she's just shaken. The man however… I'm not sure."

There was silence for a moment and then the dial tone came on.

~*~

The lights of the ambulance reflected on the smooth, black surface of Angel's rental car. He stepped out and immediately went over Fred, who was walking away from a paramedic that hat put liquid stitches on the slash on her shoulder.

She had stopped crying but when she saw Angel the tears became to fall again. He wrapped his arms around her as she began the sob uncontrollably. Her shoulders shook so much that I was afraid that her wound would open again. He knew what had happened to me, he could smell death, and he could see it in her eyes.

I remember on the plane something he told me that he wasn't crazy going to London, the actual city, as well as the gala. He said that London always reminded him of death. I assumed he meant that many people had died at his hands in London, and it's probably what he did mean, but I could help but think I was going to become another reason, another death, for Angel not to come to London.

He tried his best to comfort her, but silent tears ran down his face.

"Fred, what's wrong …" Spike began but trailed off as he saw a body covered in a crisp, white sheet …my body.

Gunn and Spike just stared and gaped, not quite sure if this was truly reality or not. Fred on the other hand knew this was real, too real.

"I thought if I didn't see you guys, " she whispered barely loud enough for Angel to hear, "that it would just be a bad dream, that it wouldn't be real. But it's real, it's real."

Next time: How will others (including Wesley's father) react to his death. After that, Spike raises questions that even makes Wes question his death.