Disclaimer: I don't own Angel, it's that simple.
A/N: Thank you so much Eloise for your review and constructive criticism! I have now edited Chapter 3 back to one of its first version. I hadn't realized I had compromised the characters so much in order to put in the "glorifying after death" line, which was in another story of mine, and fitted into this one on advice of a friend. Oh, well this goes to show you go with your gut instinct. Also I temporarily forgot it was Wesley's POV at that one line about Angel's thoughts, thanks for pointing it out! Everyone please review, it's helpful, especially since this chapter has gone through many transformations! Okay, now on with the story!
Angel reached for the phone but was stopped by a voice.
"You've used the phone enough today," Spike commented as he stood up, walked over to the nightstand, and picked up the receiver. Angel decided to move over to the other chair next to Gunn.
"Hello, this is the London Morgue."
"Isn't that lovely?"
"I'm sorry for your loss," the woman said very diplomatically.
"You called just to say that?"
"No. Are you aware of any heart problems that Wesley Wyndam-Pyrce had, Mr… Angel?"
"No, and the name's Spike."
"Are you positive?"
"Pretty sure, why?"
"Well, looking at Mr. Wyndam-Pyrce's injuries, they were severe, but not anything that would cause death."
"That's … interesting."
"I understand there was another passenger in the car."
"Yeah,"
"Did they see anything unusual before the crash?"
"I don't know. I'll have to ask her."
"Alright then, I'll just put the cause of death as the crash. I don't want to think so hard this late at night or do another autopsy. Good bye"
Spike hung up the phone and he an expression on his face, like he was trying fit together the pieces of a puzzle. He ignored Angel's request to know who had called.
Suddenly he came to the realization of something. He immediately rushed over to Fred, who was lying on the sofa. He squatted so that they would be in eye contact.
"Fred, did you see anything weird before the crash?"
She looked at him with a face of shock, as if she was asking herself how he could have possibly knew. The teardrops became heavier.
"What did you see?" he repeated, determined to know, but why?
The weeping became hysterically.
"What did you see," his voice raised and he shook her a little.
Angel stood up, "Stop the damn interrogation Spike."
Gunn looked like he was going to drag away the blonde vampire and beat the tar out of him. However, he was stopped by a barely audible whisper.
"I saw him die Spike."
"How could you? The crash was instant. What happen before the crash?"
She put her hands on her forehead. The shivering had become shaking.
"You only have to say it once, love"
"It was only for a split second, I'm not even sure if it were real or an illusion. There was some much…"
"So much of what?"
"Mist. And someone, something was trying to tear it from his body, rip it out…" the trembling became more violently. She sat up but looked at her blanket.
"What was ripped out?"
Angel then noticed that blood was gushing out of Fred's wound, trickling onto the blank and the couch. As he rushed over to her side, her head shot up so fast it was sicken. Her eyes were completely black and empty. She put her hand around Spike's throat.
"You know what," she yelled as she stood up and threw him against the left, tan wall. A mirror was broken and the small table collapse beneath his weight.
Angel shoved her back on to the velvet sofa. His hands upon her shoulders, holding her down. She was stronger somehow.
"Get out of Fred," he shouted maliciously, since he assumed this was a possession of some sort.
She just laughed as blood began to drip from the corner of her mouth. Gunn took a cross and pressed on her head but there was no affect.
Then I saw something that the others didn't. There was black mist, something ancient and evil, trying to force it's way in through Fred's gash and in the process it was pushing Fred out of her body. White, or maybe it was gray, airy substance was being forced out from her mouth. Her very soul.
I tried to get it away from her but I passed through, not because I was a ghost but because it was vapor. I was now next to Spike, who was now rummaging through Fred's leather purse. He found what he was looking for and ripped the sides off, which fell to the floor. It was a photograph and he had torn off the part with Angel, Lorne, Gunn, Fred and Cordelia. What was he doing?
Fred punched Angel and pushed Gunn aside and was heading for the door. The process was coming to an end. Spike jumped in front of her and held up the ripped up picture, the part with only me on it. I remember the day we took that photo. Fred was trying to use up the reminder of an old roll of film Cordelia had. She said it would be nice to have a picture with all of us in it. So there we were forever smiling in the foyer the Hyperion.
That picture made Fred stop in her tracks. Suddenly the mist became solid or at least I could pull it out, allowing Fred to return to her body. I crashed against the window. And for a moment I think they saw me, from the shock and disbelieve in each of their eyes, especially Angel and Gunn's. I couldn't tell you what happened after that, because I disappeared.
Next time: Wes finds himself in a strange new place and is meet by someone from Angel's recent past.