Sam had been sure he was too tainted for an angel of his own. After what Castiel had said... it only made sense. The boy with the demon blood. The abomination. That was the moment he stopped believing in angels. The moment he lost all hope and trust in a higher power.

After all, Sam had recently become addicted to demon blood and allied with a demon to stop Lilith. Why the hell would any angel not look down on him? He was most literally playing with hell fire. Dean had just been raised from hell by Castiel. The cold angel already seemed to look down on Sam. And as much as it hurt, he quickly moved past it... but it still left a bitter taste in his mouth toward angels.

But, one night, as he was sneaking out, his body practically vibrating with the need for demon blood, he would run into someone. Just as he was pulling the flask out of his pocket, he heard a voice... your voice.

"Not the best choice." You called out, leaning against the brick wall of the motel building.