The Corpse and the Medical Examiner

Episode Two

Crowley looked at Anathema like she was crazy.

"What do you even mean?" he asked tiredly. Its been a long day at work.

She shoves her phone in his face like it was a hot potato. He held the phone and noticed it was a YouTube video, from a popular person with a few thousand subscribers. He stares at his coworker and friend of three years.

"Just watch." she says coldly.

The video starts and its a shot of Morosely Park. He notes that this was clear, almost like professional equipment.

then it turns to him. He sees his profile easily on the screen. It was the same outfit he wore-

Shit.

The video catches the sounds of him grumbling about something and then his pronounced curse. He knocks on the ice, and then it breaks. It caught him scrambling back for only a minute, and the head of Aziraphale pokes through the ice, and the camera begins to blur. One could make out the shape of Aziraphale pulling himself out of the watery grave.

It doesn't catch anymore of the exchanges words, just shows them walking off, and the grave's ice melting the farther Aziraphale walks from it.

Shit.

He needs to first, discredit the video and get the owner to take it down.

It was titled: "Necromancy in the Park."

"Witch le-"

"Crowley don't you dare lie to me." She glares hard at him.

Crowley stands up and hands her the phone with a sigh, "Come on. Aziraphale should explain it with me."

She followed him through the halls of the morgue and basement offices. They get into his car and he drives fast. How he didn't get pulled over and ticketed was a lucky miracle. Though he was always going this fast when he wanted to get home.

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Aziraphale didn't notice the two enter, the sound of him stretching and his body popping grotesquely covered the sound of the door opening.

Anathema looked sick at the sound of his jaw and neck popping. He turns and jumps near a foot off the ground. He places a hand over his heart and takes a large breath. As if he needed it. Though it was comforting.

"Aziraphale someone videoed you crawling out of your grave."

Aziraphale, having now heard about the 21st centuries technology and interesting inventions, pales. He goes so pale he looks as dead as he should be. His eyes seem to glass over in panic and they can see the blue veins in his neck.

"We have to tell her."

The dead man nods and exhales, taking a seat on the couch. Anathema is sat across from it in a chair, and Crowley is siting in his signature chair, slouching like he owns the place. Which he kinda does.

"Would you like to tell her?" Crowley asks carefully, and Aziraphale nods.

He takes a deep and unneeded breath to steel himself, "I am Aziraphale Arch. I was murdered by my brother in 1875. I was a missing persons until the 1950′s where they closed the case unsolved. I died in Morosely park and I was dead for 144 years. One day I wake up from my death to a knock on my ice topped bed.

I broke out, and the rest is on the video. Crowley took me in and here we are."

Anathema listened, her face betraying many emotions as she seemed to be processing the information. She almost opened her mouth to say that was impossible, but she was a witch, and really that was hypocritical. She watched him carefully. He had become mostly human looking after the explanation.