Author's Note: This story-line takes place mid-season 6, episode 11 when Sam talks to Balthazar about keeping his soul away. In their conversation, Sam becomes indebted to Balthazar for his help. So here's my spin/twist to the plot. Hope you enjoy & please comment!

Chapter 1: The Debt

The desolate warehouse seemed to crumble around him. The windows had long ago been shattered in and the walls cracked down to the cement. Recent rainfall added a layer of mud and dampness to the ruined state of the building. He chose this place for a reason. It was secluded. Dean couldn't find him here. Sam was on his own.

Sam flicked the lit match onto the altar. The warehouse seemed to tremble in that moment. Lights blubs that had been dead before, flickered back to life only to sizzle and shatter. The match burned the ash on the altar and flared into a brilliant fire burst. The heat nipped across Sam's hard face. Smoke filled the air around him, billowing upwards to engulf the empty warehouse.

"Sam Winchester…" a dark, husky voice rang out from above him.

Sam's cold gaze followed the voice. His eyes locked onto a tall, handsome blond angel. The angel glared menacingly down upon him now. Sam knew Balthazar did not like to be summoned, let alone by a human he didn't like. Suddenly the angel vanished. The sound of fluttering of wings descended around Sam.

He turned in time to see Balthazar standing behind him. The power that Balthazar possessed seemed to burn in his pale blue eyes as he asked harshly, "this had better be good…"

Sam, if he had a soul, might have trembled with fear. Or even felt threatened by this powerful supernatural being. But he didn't. Sam returned Balthazar's hostile gaze with his own. "I need your help," he stated bluntly.

Balthazar arched a suspicious eyebrow then, to Sam's wonder, the angel smirked slyly.

A few weeks later…

"Past stays past… we're not gonna go kickin' that wall again." Dean's words fluttered through his brain for the millionth time. "You're life is on the line here, Sam…"

Sam's fingers traced the outline of the water mark of his beer on the bar counter. He wished he could remember what he did. Dean told him it was too dangerous to go 'scratching at the wall' Death had put up in his mind to protect him from the torments of Hell. He snorted softly at the thought. Remembering six months of Hell, locked in the same box with Lucifer and Michael probably wouldn't be something he wanted to recall. Yet there were things missing in Sam's life now. Almost like puzzle pieces he wanted to put back together from the past six months. It didn't matter what Dean told him. Sam couldn't help but want to get out of the fog of what his memory had become.

It didn't help either that Dean kept watching him, as if he were about to crack up at any second. He understood Dean's concerns. It made sense, he'd been living with a monster for all Sam knew these past few months and now he had a time-bomb on his hands. Maybe that's why Sam had to get away. He had to forget, just for one night that he was a ticking time-bomb. That at any moment the gates of Hell could flood his mind and paralyze him forever. He sighed heavily into his beer, feeling slightly depressed.

"Double, please bartender," a husky accented voice asked besides him.

Sam felt a familiar tingle race up his spine. That voice, he thought. He knew that voice. He glanced to the man besides him.

A well-dressed, handsomely built man leaned casually against the bar, his long legs straddling the barstool. He seemed confident, maybe even overconfident in his cool presence and somewhat smirking smile. His blond hair was carelessly tossed, his face chiseled and lined with stumble. He was definitely attractive and if Sam wasn't mistaken, he had a British accent.

The bartender poured the blond man a double shot of whiskey.

"Cheers," the man said to the bartender appreciatively before shooting back the whiskey without hesitation. Sam eyed him, slightly impressed.

"Another," the man demanded. The bartender nodded and poured the second round. The mysterious man turned to Sam then, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. "Which you like to join me?"

Sam felt that shiver of familiarity creep over him again. Those eyes, he knew those eyes. They way they seemed to almost laugh at him from the depths of those pale baby blues. Damnit, he thought frustratingly, why couldn't he figure out who the hell this guy was? Or why he suddenly felt strange nervous butterflies dancing in his stomach. It was almost like he was attracted to him. Sam pulled away from the thought instantly.

"One for my friend here," the man said to the bartender.

Sam accepted it, still thinking hard at his foggy, distant memories. Scratching at the forbidden wall, as Dean would say. This man didn't feel like a stranger, he felt almost too familiar.

Finally Sam asked, "Do I know you?"

The man smiled into his glass, almost laughingly. "I guess I'm not so unforgettable as I had thought."

Sam stared, frowning at the man's words. Clearly the man knew him, why else would he hint at it? Still Sam desperately tried to place him.

The haunting blue eyes glanced over to him, "let's just say- you have a debt to pay, Sammy boy."

Sam suddenly stilled. A chill swept through his entire body. Little from what Dean told him, Sam did some pretty terrible things without a soul. Now he wondered if one had just caught up with him.

"Look," Sam began wearily. "I don't know who you are… I know you might not believe me or whatever," he said hesitantly. "But it's been a rough couple of weeks, so you mind just telling me who you are?"

The man pursed his lips, "Rough? Yeah- I can imagine. Having ones soul ripped from Perdition and shoved back inside, still flaming, would be pretty rough."

"How did you…?" Sam spluttered, "Who are you?"

"The name's Balthazar, darling. And you and I have some business to settle."

"What kind of business?" Sam asked curiously, wondering who or what this man was. And that Balthazar was a weird name. Demon? Angel? Monster?

Balthazar slowly moved his legs over the barstool, turning his body towards him. Sam swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close the man got to him. His heart hammered strangely and his gut tightened. Balthazar licked the bottom of his lips, his eyes darkening with desire. Sam's pulse accelerated uncomfortably. "The kind of business you do in private," Balthazar said huskily.

Sam stared, dumbfounded. He made a deal with this guy for sex? No way, he thought, horrified. Except his heart raced and his groin tightened excitedly. Sam inhaled sharply, ignoring the stirrings between his legs and the knots in his stomach. He instantly stood, fumbling for the keys from his jacket. "You've got the wrong guy. I don't know what I promised you when I was…" Sam hesitated, unable to say 'soulless' out loud to a possible demon or monster. "But I don't… I'm not…" he stammered, already beginning to back away from the man.

The man laughed at him, "Oh Sam- you don't have a choice."

Sam paused, he clenched the keys in his hand. No way in Hell was he going anywhere with this shady guy It would take him less than a minute to run out to the Impala and grab his gun. He should've had it on him. But he didn't think he'd get into any trouble at some nameless bar in the middle of nowhere.

"Really?" Sam retorted bitterly. "I'd like to see you try and stop me," Sam quickly spun on his heel and left the bar.

He was at the Impala, unlocking his door, and going for his gun. If this badie tried to start something, he would finish it with a bullet through the chest. He wasn't going anywhere with anyone tonight, especially for a debt he didn't even know about or remember.

"Sam, Sam, Sam," chided the accented voice. Sam glanced up and stared in shock and mild horror as Balthazar leaned against the opposite side of the Impala. "Like I said before, you don't have a choice in the matter." A sly smile danced on his lips as he emphasized every word, "you owe me."

"What are you?"

Balthazar shrugged, "I would probably best describe myself to you as the Anti-Cas."

"You're an angel?" he asked in disbelief

"Yes, but without all that moral hoop-la." He walked towards him now, knowing perfectly well that Sam wasn't a threat. "I play by my own rules. And you darling, asked for my help not so long ago."

"I don't remember," Sam breathed angrily. Balthazar claimed he was an angel, yet Sam remained unconvinced. "Besides- you're an angel. Not a cross-roads demon."

Balthazar titled his head thoughtfully. Sam continued, "So whatever 'deal' I made with you, doesn't mean anything. You can't take back my soul or kill me." Sam smirked at him then, "and if you tried, I'm sure there will be consequences. There always is with you angels. So if you don't mind, I'd like to go now."

Balthazar pursed his lips as though in thought. "You're right," He said unexpectedly. "I can't hold you to your debt. And I'm not going to kill you," he said with the air of nonchalance. "I could however, tell you brother about our little debt."

Sam hesitated before getting into the Impala. His eyes shot to Balthazar, jaw flexing hard in his mouth. Dean was already edgy with Sam. He knew what Sam had done when he was soulless, it wouldn't take much for him to believe something like this too now.

"I'm sure he would be thrilled to know that you contacted an angel in regards to keeping your soul out of your body."

Sam gripped tightly to the door of the car, digging his palm into the cool steel. He actually contacted an angel to keep his own soul from returning to his body? He couldn't believe it. Had he really been that horrible? Sam had a hard time believing it before, now though, with a stranger telling him of his own action… it had to be true.

"Well, it obviously didn't work," Sam muttered.

Balthazar shrugged, uncaring. "I gave you the tools, Sammy. You just didn't hammer in the nails correctly."

Sam had been a soulless, moral-less, bastard. Maybe this was God's way of punishing him. Except he thought he'd already been through enough with surviving Hell.

He turned back to Balthazar, "What do you want from me?" he asked coldly.

Balthazar must have seen his resistance cave. With a sultry smile, Balthazar drawled out, "A night to be sinful, darling."

TBC