Summary: They say God loves, like he hasn't heard that before.
"God loves you."
"Really?"
Pastor Jim used to tell him the same thing. God loves him. He's watching out for him and his family. Pray to him. Believe in him.
And Sam did.
He prayed and he believed enough for his family. Maybe, then, they'd be safe, because somebody - somebody out there - actually loved them.
There were still bad things in the world. Dean still came home beat to hell. The normal world still hated them. His father was still disappointed in him. He still prayed, though. He prayed every day; in the motel, in the car, or in a gas station bathroom. He prayed because they were all still alive and that had to count for something.
They were still alive because God loved them enough not to break their tiny world apart.
"God loves you."
"Are you sure?"
He prayed non-stop after Jess died, short little conversations to God in his head.
It was mostly along the lines of, "What did I do? I hate you! Bring her back! Please! I can't do this! Please! Help me, god, please!" Somehow, Dean always knew when he was doing it. He'd sigh and take a seat as close as possible to Sam, not talking or promising. He was just there. He was there and that, of course, would add another element to Sam's prayers; "Where are you?"
"God loves you."
"Then, why would he do this?"
After their father died, Sam stopped praying all together. He still got down on his knees. He still clasped his hands. He still went through the motions but he never actually prayed.
A voice somewhere in the back of his mind would mock, "What do you say to the Big Guy?
Always, that voice was followed by the old proverb, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say it all."
Sam would drop to his knees but he wouldn't say word.
If you don't have something nice to say, don't say it at all.
"God loves you."
"You think so?"
When Dean died, Sam stopped going through the motions. He didn't get down on his knees. He didn't clasp his hands.
He looked up at the sky and he screamed.
"God loves you," Monica said. She glowed bright. She exuded warmth and love.
Sam was cold, so cold. "I hate him!"
"God loves you," said Tess, different from Monica. She glowed. She exuded strength and stability.
Sam didn't know which way was up. "God can go to hell," and he laughed like that was just the joke of the century.
Sam liked Andrew the best. He guided Sam's victims without a word.
"God loves you," they said.
Sam watched the light go out of Ellen's eyes, Andrew just waiting in the corner to take her away.
He smirked. "I doubt it."
"God loves you."
"Not anymore."