Cas stared at the envelope in his hands as he sat at the head of the table. He was still grasping the fact that Judith was dead.

It was true; he and Judith did share a night together. Just one night. And he never saw her again after that one night. He thought it would be a bad idea to see her after that. Heaven would have likely intervened.

He opened the envelope, pulling out a folded piece of paper. It wasn't just information on the children, he soon realized. It was, in fact, a letter written by Judith. And it began with the words, "Dear Castiel,"

"Dear Castiel,
If you are reading this, odds are, I'm dead. As soon as I learned of their destiny, I sent my children to a small house in Brighton, England, where their grandmother lives. I would like for you to go there and ensure their safety. Yes, I know of their destiny, I have for some time. I'm sure Malachi has told you by now."

She went on to talk about the prophecy about Edith and Parker, what they had the power to do. She didn't know what the key was either, or what it had to do with her kids.

"I trust that you will find my children, and watch over them. Keep them safe, Castiel. I'm counting on you, angel.
Yours truly, Judith."

Cas sighed as he finished the letter. She would often refer to him as "angel". Just angel. He missed Judith so much. Perhaps if he'd kept in touch with her, he could've been able to heal her when she learned of the brain tumor. Though now was not the time for "what ifs". He had a mission, and he intended to see it through.

There was an address on the back of the letter. That must've been where the kids were. And since he was human now, he only had one option; fly by plane. If he could somehow afford it; he didn't have much money.

He glanced at the envelope and noticed there was more inside. He found a stack of twenty dollar bills and what he could only assume was British currency in a money clip. There must've been a couple hundred dollars (and pounds) in that stack. There was a small slip of paper with a note on it written in blue ink. "Just in case you need it," it read.

Cas smiled to himself. Judith was always prepared for anything.

He packed what little he had in his satchel, and realized Malachi's body was still in the chair. He sat there, his blue unblinking eyes gazing up at the ceiling lifelessly. Cas sighed, closing Malachi's eyes, realizing he was already cold. And he walked out the door, prepared to complete his mission.

._.__._.

He drove to the airport in his newly obtained car, and after much time going through airport security, he finally managed to get on the plane. He vaguely remembered Dean being nervous about planes, and he was never sure why. He'd never understand the ways of the humans.

He knew little about planes, but he could see why one might be anxious during takeoff. But once the plane got in the air, it was a much smoother ride. There was nothing evident to worry about.

Castiel found himself lost in thought as he stared out the plane window, thinking back to when he met Judith nearly fifteen years ago.

._.__._.

It was a rainy April night when he appeared at their doorstep, ringing the bell. He was here on a mission, and a very important one at that. He was here to cure Margaret Horvath, and possibly her teenage daughter, Judith. After all, it could have been hereditary.

A young girl with dirty, almost sandy, blonde hair and dark brown eyes answered the door. "What?" She asked plainly, having to speak over the sound of pouring rain.

"You must be Judith Horvath. Is your mother here?"

"Yeah, she's upstairs."

"I must speak with her, it is of utmost importance."

Judith sighed, expressionless. "Hey, mom!" She yelled over her shoulder. "Some weird guy in a trench coat wants to talk to you!"

A faint voice replied, "I'll be right there!"

Judith looked back at him. "She'll be with you shortly." She spoke almost sarcastically.

After only a moment's passing, a slightly older woman walked down the stairs to the door. "Thank you, Judy."

Judith just sighed once more. "Whatever." And she walked up the stairs to her room.

"Ah, teens." Margaret grinned. "Surely you know how it is."

"As a matter of fact, I do not."

"Well, I'm sure you were a teenager once, yourself."

"Margaret, I'm here on assignment. And you just happen to be said assignment."

Margaret understood. "Oh. Then you must be... one of those angels from heaven."

"Indeed. And I have the cure."

"Well, then, by all means, come in." She stood aside, allowing him to enter, closing the door behind them.

She invited him to sit at the couch, while she sat in an adjacent chair. "Are you sure this will help me?"

"I am quite sure, Mrs. Horvath."

She chuckled softly. "Please, it's Miss. Mrs is practically a forgotten memory. My husband died in a fire nearly seven years ago."

He nodded, aware of her situation. "Yes. Condolences."

"Alright, no need for a trip down memory lane, I just need this taken care of." She showed him the strange black growth in the center of her chest, which was slowly growing, turning her veins black.

"Don't worry," He reached in the pocket of his trench coat, pulling out a strange syringe. "It will be done."

"Good. Because I can feel this thing growing, and I think it's about to pop like a pimple."

"I must warn you, this will not be pleasant."

But Margaret didn't care. "Well sack up and get it over with then!"

Cas sighed softly, slowly injecting the needle just underneath the growth, and carefully began to drain it.

The syringe began to fill with black ooze, and Margaret felt the pain all the while, though she did her best to conceal her screams. The growth became smaller and smaller, until it was almost completely gone. The only thing left behind was a small scar.

He removed the syringe from Margaret's chest, examining it closely. There was just enough room in the needle to contain all the strange fluid. Which was fortunate, as he didn't have another syringe.

"Is it over?" Margaret asked.

He looked to Margaret. "Yes. You are going to be fine."

She sighed with relief, obviously satisfied with this answer.

"But I do have concerns about your daughter."

She was no longer happy with the situation. "What? What does my daughter have to do with this? She was never infected!"

"This is true. But you were infected long before you had your daughter. Part of the infection might have passed on to her. I am very sorry."

"No. No, no, no, don't be sorry. Because there's nothing to be sorry about; she's fine, I tell you."

"I wouldn't be too sure," He stood up, looking to the stairs. "Would you be so kind as to lead me to your daughter's room?"

She led him up the stairs, and down three doors to the left. She knocked on the door. "Judith?" She called. "May we come in?"

She didn't hear an answer, and opened the door, and was shocked by what she saw. Judith was sitting cross legged in the middle of her bed, looking down so her long hair covered her face, her hands forming fists as they rested on her knees. And her bed was hovering a foot or two above the ground.

As soon as Margaret opened the door, her bed fell back to the floor. She still sat there, not breathing a word. This concerned both Margaret and Castiel. He slowly began to approach the bed.

"Judith?" He spoke softly. "What's wrong, Judith?"

"What's happening to her?" Margaret asked worriedly.

"I believe the infection has already gotten to her nervous system. It is doubtful she's even aware of what she's doing."

"Well can you snap her out of it?"

He wasn't quite sure he could, but he'd attempt it anyway. "I will certainly try."

._.__._.

The plane soon landed, and Cas disembarked, leaving the airport. He wasn't sure how he was going to get to the address Judith left in the letter, until he realized he needed to catch a cab.

He soon caught one, and was immediately confused. He noticed that, rather than vehicles in America, the driver's side was on the right side. And he, as per usual, voiced his confusion.

"I don't understand. I thought the driver sat on the opposite side of the vehicle?"

The cabbie chuckled. "Let me guess; you're new to England?"

"Yes. Is it obvious?"

"A bit. So, where you headed?"

Cas got the letter from his satchel, reading off the address. Little did he know how far away it was.

"Boy, that's quite a drive. About an hour and fifteen minutes, depending on the flow of traffic."

"This is urgent. Take me there."

The cabbie nodded. "As you wish." And he began driving.

Just as he said, it was an hour and fifteen minutes later when they arrived. Cas paid the man in full and walked up to the house. This was it. Judith's children were here, for sure.

He walked up to the door and knocked. Very shortly afterwards, an elderly woman answered. "Can I help you, young man?" She asked with a smile.

"Are you Judith Horvath's mother-in-law?"

"I certainly am."

"Good. Are the children here? Edith and Parker?"

"Might I ask who you are?" She avoided the question.

"Castiel. I'm an old friend of Judith's. Might I come in?"

"Castiel? Quite an unusual name. But I suppose you may come in." She stood aside so he could enter, then closed and locked the door.

It was a nice little house, Cas noticed as he looked around. "So, would you mind telling me where Edith and Parker are?" He turned around to face the old woman, who unexpectedly knocked him unconscious with a baseball bat, her eyes pitch black.

"And I do hope you'll stay for tea."