No one hates you more than you. Crowley's words seep into his very being and take residence deep within his soul. His heart twitches as the pain of the truth in those words hits him full force. He thinks back over the years and tries to pin point the moment he had begun to loath himself so much. The trip down memory lane comes to a stop on the memory of the time he almost lost Sam to that strigha. That had to be it; didn't it? Or at least it was the first incident that had planted the seed of self loathing.
The memory train started up again and this time he saw himself waiting, nervously, for his dad to come home. Sam had taken off in the middle of the night and had been missing for a day or two. He knew his father wasn't going to be happy and as usual he didn't disappoint. 'Well, this has to be it,' he thought to himself as the fear of what could've happened to Sam while he was out, lost and alone, made it's presence felt once again as did his father's disappointment in him.
Once again he found himself riding his memories. They flickered through his mind like a movie; only to stop on the night that Sam had left for college. The fight between his dad and Sam played out, in stereo, as he watched thinking to himself that this had to be the moment. The gut wrenching feeling of rejection hit him hard and he realized that there had to be something wrong with him for Sam to have decided to leave. He heard the vile hate filled words his father had spoken to him, his drunkenness having helped to lower the man's control. 'Yes. This has to be it,' he thought, 'Dad was right to say what he said.'
Once again he was being pulled through his memories. He watched as Cassie dumped him and felt the pain once again when she called him crazy and told him not to speak to her again. He felt the guilt wash over him again as he watched his brother grieve the loss of his girlfriend. 'If I hadn't gone to him she'd still be alive,' he whispered as that memory faded into another.
He felt the pain in his chest again as the demon ripped him from the inside out. He heard the words the demon sneered at him and knew them to be true. He needed his family more than they needed him. Those words cut deeper than the slashes on his chest.
He stared in horror at the lifeless body of his father as he lay on the hospital's cold floor. His stomach turned as he remembered that HE was the reason his father was dead. His father had given his life for him. He couldn't understand why. He wasn't worth it.
He watched as he knelt on the wet muddy ground holding his dead brother in his arms. He had failed him yet again. Sam was dead and it was because he wasn't smart or fast enough to figure what had happened in time.
He had sold his soul to save Sam's life. He had died and come back. He couldn't look in the mirror; the things he had done while down stairs haunted him and surely that was the moment he had grown to hate himself. That had to be it.
Another flash and he watched as he pushed Ben into the wall and out of his way. He knew he had done it to protect Ben but still he had hurt the boy he had come to think of as his own. He heard Lisa's words to him about his unhealthy need to be around his brother and how she had told him she didn't want to be with him anymore. That had to be it, right?
Over and over the memories played and he began to see a pattern. It wasn't just one moment in time that brought him to this place of self hatred; but a thousand moments. He had always tried to do the right thing and it always turned out wrong. The most recent example being; he's attempt to save Sam having cost Kevin his life.
He was a failure. No matter the victories he may have had, and there weren't that many, they would always be out weighed by the numerous times he had failed. He looked at the mark he now wore and wondered what price he would pay for taking it on. "It doesn't matter," he whispered into the night air, "Whatever the price I'm sure I deserve it."
His soul shivered as the darkness crept in. Somewhere deep within he felt the light trying to burn again and he fought to suppress it. He wasn't worthy. He never would be. He heard that loud and clear every time someone he loved left him. He heard that every time he had slipped up on a hunt and his father would let him know just how very disappointed he was with him. He felt that every time someone he loved died just because they had been near him.
He was a killer nothing more and nothing less. Cain had confirmed this when he said that they were kindred spirits, so to speak. He had become a shadow of the man he had wanted to be. He had turned cold and hard. He was something to be loathed and hated and no one knew that better than he.