Author's Notes: What oh what could be wrong with Sam? I'm ascribing to him being soulless or at least partially so thus far. With the talk of angels buying souls now because they're powerful and having a back up plan should the apocalypse fail, I'm thinking Sam must have a fairly powerful soul, being Lucifer's vessel and all. I don't think he would have sold it just to get out of the Cage, so the question to me is, what would he sell it for?

Summary: What would Sam sell his soul for? Unstable!Sam

Scales and Prices

"You were right before, Dean."

Dean was cautious, watching Sam closely even though his wrists were bound behind him and he wasn't even looking at his older brother, sitting cross-legged inside the Devil's trap Dean had put him in just in case. Dean held the knife tightly in his hand because he still could bring himself to point a gun at Sam and he wasn't convinced this wasn't Sam, or a part of him anyway.

"Right about what?"

Sam tilted his head and Dean thought that was appropriate. Everything about Sam had been tilted since he got out of the Cage. His entire world (because even with Lisa and Ben, that's what Sam was), listing sideways. Dean had enough. He wanted answers. And if knocking Sam out and tying him up was what it took to get them, well he had reached the point where that was worth it.

"We can't save everyone, Dean."

That small tone and just like that, Sam was twelve years old again, lost in the new world he'd discovered Dean and his father lived in. No matter what, Sam would always be that kid to Dean.

When he thought no more words were forthcoming, Dean shook himself and pressed forward.

"Sam-"

"Can't save everyone. And I don't want to anymore." Dean's stomach dropped, but he remained silent. "You have to pick; who to save, who lives and who dies. That's all I did, Dean. I chose. Even if you hate me for it, I'm not sorry."

Dean thought he knew where this was going, had had his suspicions for months now.

"You made a deal." He didn't ask, he knew.

Sam huffed out a laugh without a touch of humor in it. He hung his head like he didn't have the energy to hold it up anymore.

"Our family legacy…making deals with demons." Sam shrugged. "I just changed the players a bit. You know I never liked following in anyone's footsteps."

Sam's eyes darkened.

"Screw the world. What difference does it make if I save strangers if I can't protect the people I love?" Sam's jaw clenched. "No, no, this time I'll get it right. Turns out, I still had a card left to play. Something they'd bargain for."

Sam started rocking back and forth softly and Dean screamed in his own mind. He'd wanted answers, but now he didn't want to know what his baby brother had done.

"This new war? It's all about souls. Heaven and Hell having some kind of morbid easter egg hunt. Whoever gets the most souls, the most powerful souls, wins." Sam's voice grew softer, like he was talking only to himself and Dean wasn't even in the room. "Had a card and I played it…save what you love. They're safe…he's safe."

Dean forced his breathing to remain even. He moved to sit in front of Sam, trying to see his face.

"What did you do, Sam?" Sam continued to stare ahead, a far away expression in his eyes. "Sam!"

Dean barked and Sam's head snapped up. He looked confused at first, but slowly, his face slid into a grin. Once that screamed to Dean of the old Sam, of his Sammy, but was just a bit too wide, too bright, too manic. Sam answered like it should have never been a question.

"I sold the world."