John 21:18-19 - "Most assuredly, I say to you, when you were younger, you girded yourself and walked where you wished; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish."
He always had faith.
Faith in a higher being, a being that shone with virtue. A being that gave him a chance of being saved.
Dad and Dean had never believed in such things. They were unable to believe that such a holy being existed in a world filled with monsters and violence. A world where a family in Kansas loses both a mother and any chance of normality in one night.
Yeah, he only prays when he's alone.
No one talks about Mom.
Not while they're sober that is.
Overall, it's a family secret that he isn't a part of. Another thing to create a divide. He doesn't remember her, only sees glimpses of her in baby photos he never knew existed. Photos in a box hidden deep in his father's trunk.
Only knows that the night she died was the night his chances of a normal life died as well. Only knows that something evil tried to get him, and she had sacrificed herself for him.
Moving over the photos he sees a rosary as well, the iron it's made of shining under the sun. Turning it around it's engraved with the single name ' Mary'. It was his mother's.
He holds it in his hands. This rosary, he realizes, is his one connection to a ghost, a stranger. A mother he never knew. He takes it, keeps it under his pillow. His Dad never notices. And no one notices how holding it for too long creates red marks in his palms.
No one notices, no one ever does.
When he had gotten to Stanford he'd visited the local church a few times. He never attended a sermon, no instead he went to be on his own. Guess things never did change.
He stopped going when overtime his forehead was left with red, irritated skin in the shape of a cross. That's when he let his hair cover his forehead.
The priests always avoided him after that.
For Christmas one year, Jess had asked for him to attend a sermon with her. She was into the whole community part of the religion. Despite his nervousness, he agreed, because how could he ever say no to her.
The Priest was halfway through the sermon before he had gotten a migraine and his nose started bleeding. She never asked to attend again afterward. The way she looked at him changed also, yet she never had the heart to go.
He prayed that night, his mom's rosary now hanging around his neck.
Waking up next to Jess with images of her burning on the ceiling should have been causing concern. Instead, he played it off, and she burned exactly twenty-two years after his mother.
The few belongings he owned burned alongside her. Some of them containing images of his mother, father, and brother. His family went up in flames for a second time.
The only thing left of Jess is his memories...
He sobs and prays to an apathetic God that night, the ring he bought her clutched in his hands.
He had wanted to believe the Priest's ghost had actually been an Angel and had wanted to believe he'd been called upon by a divine being.
Because if so, it would show that he was someone worth being saved.
'He said I might have to kill you, Sammy'.
He falls asleep with his rosary under his pillows. Could never get rid of old habits.
The night yellow-eyes visited his dreams at Cold-Oak, was the night that he realized he never stood a chance. He never had a chance of heaven or peace. Because he'd been infected with demon blood.
Maybe denying his abilities would show God he had potential? Show he has the potential to be good. Or maybe offering mercy would?
The last thing he feels is a searing, burning pain in his spine. The last thing he hears is his brother screaming, "Sammy!". The last thing he sees is his brother's horrified face.
It goes black for a second. Then there are screams, flames, and chains.
Guess God gave up on him.
When discovering that Dean sold his soul for him to live, he spends the rest of the year with a nose in a book or eyes at his laptop.
He finds himself praying to a God that hasn't given him much hope lately.
The night Dean is torn apart by hellhounds. His organs exposed, blood everywhere, eyes open but lifeless. He buries him himself, even leaves a cross as a marker.
Then he drinks, and drinks, and drinks. Manages to get a room, not realizing he got two beds. He curses God and his angels that night. Even throws away his Mom's rosary, because look what's good it's done.
Why did it matter at all if he couldn't even save his brother?
Ruby comes by a few weeks later, an offer in-store. He ignores Bobby's calls.
He had lost hope in God ever since Dean was dragged to Hell. So he might as well have hope in himself.
Ruby says he's getting stronger. Getting even better control over his abilities. The powers are nice, but the best feeling is being able to save people. And his abilities allow him to do just that.
So what if damns himself in the process? It's not like he'd make it to heaven anyway.
Dean came back, was rescued from hell. For the first time in a long time, he thinks it may be a work of God.
And he's right, he's amazed when Dean and Bobby tell him about their encounter with Castiel.
All of these years he had been praying to them, had even been questioning, but they're real.
Which means it hadn't been a waste.
Then… is he doing the right thing with Ruby? Is it really worth going against him?
He prays for forgiveness that night when Bobby and Dean are sleeping. He mourns for his Mother's rosary as well.
Faith never mattered, not in the long run. Faith doesn't determine how clean your soul is. Not when your brother is named 'The Righteous Man' and you simply 'The Boy with the Demon-blood'.
The Angels had even threatened to kill him if he continued his "activities", they even had Dean on board with him stopping. Though he realizes it's Dean's way of trying to protect him.
They claim it to be "God's command". But where's he been lately?
And Dean never used to believe in all that. Not since Mom had died. Especially after their Dad died.
He meets with Ruby because despite what Dean and the Angels think, they have work to do. The seals are breaking and armageddon is getting closer.
He'll do whatever he has to save everyone. Why won't they just trust him? He has everything under control.
So he's cranky? He's not an addict, he has everything under control. This is just one obstacle to the end.
So what if his hands shake if he doesn't get what he needs. So what if he gets angry, he has a right to doesn't he?
This isn't something Dean needs to worry about. Nothing he can't handle. And if God calls him a liar, then screw him. It's his life, so he chooses what he does with it.
For once he gets to choose.
He remembered wiping the blood from his mouth, the horrified look on Dean's face. He remembered the way his body surged with energy, with horrid cheer.
-But, he's not an addict.-
Remembered how clear his vision was on the way to Bobby's. Remembered how strong he felt.
-But, he's not an addict.-
Remembered how it felt like he was floating. Remembered how it was like he didn't have a care in the world.
-But, he's not an…
Dean and Bobby trick him into being locked in the panic room. He bangs on the wall, yells for them to let him go. The iron walls leave his skin irritated and red.
That bliss feeling is no longer present. And God and any sort of faith have left the building.
Maybe… maybe he is an addict. Maybe he doesn't have it under control.
And maybe he has never always had faith.