Hey everyone, here's chapter 3. Hopefully Limp!Sam will entice a few of you to review. Please? Anybody? Anyway, I know this one's short, but this was the breaking point, and the next chapter is WAY too long to post on with this one. Or should I just put it all together and repost as 1 big fic? Let me know.


Sam woke him up early, way too early, coughing and hacking in the dark. Dean stretched, flipping on the lamp, and glanced over at his brother. Yeah, not good. He was huddled up, one hand against his chest as he coughed hard, face turning red with the effort. "Easy tiger...you gettin sick?" Sam shook his head, and tried to wheeze in a breath.

"Pond."

He had almost forgotten about Sam almost drowning in that damned water. He sat up, heart wrenching as he watched his brother take a deep breath, just to start coughing again. Dean was on his way to check out the first aid bag, see if there was still cough meds in there, when the knock sounded on the door. Habit had him snagging the handgun off the bedside table, easing open the door. Autumn stood there, eyes concerned as she frowned.

"He doesn't sound too good."

"No shit Sherlock...he almost drowned. What did you expect, candy canes and lollipops?" She didn't rise to his bait, just raising a brow and tilting her head.

"Do you mind if I help him?"

Dean glanced over to Sam, whose miserable hazel eyes agreed. "Fine." He pushed away from the wall, standing over his brother. "Don't hurt him."

She knelt beside the bed, a hand on Sammy's back, feeling the rattle and the wheeze as he kept trying to breathe. "I won't. Sam, do you trust me?" He nodded, and she glanced up at Dean. "Can you get me the wastebasket? He'll need it." Alarm licked up Dean's nerves, but he stamped it down, dragging the frail wire thing over. She had gotten Sam to sit on the edge of the bed, and he set it between the giant feet. Only one reason he'd need the trashcan...

Autumn settled herself behind Sam, rubbing a hand soothingly up and down his back. And for a second, Dean had an odd sense of deja-vu. Despite the fact that Mary looked nothing like Autumn, he remembered the chest cold he had once, Mary supporting his small chest with one hand while she rubbed his back, murmuring softly to him.

The witch's voice dragged him back. "I'm not hurting him Dean. It goes against everything we're taught. Sam, you're gonna be coughing up some nasty shit, okay? Seems like common sense, but spit it out, okay? Dean, come here, so you can see what I'm doing. It helps, anytime there's something foreign in the lungs, or excess mucus." She cupped her hands, and lightly started patting his brother's back, working in large circles, up his spine, down the sides, back up. The quick tempo startled Dean, but on her second pass, Sam started coughing violently, shoulders hunching as he spat a wad of greenish slime. "You doin okay there?" She paused, rubbing again as Sam nodded, flashing her a weak smile.

"Peachy." His voice was hoarse and rough, but at least he could take a shallow breath again. Dean watched them both, realizing the tension was easing from Sam's taut shoulders, and settled on his bed, pulling out the whetstone from his go bag and his Bowie, sharpening it as he warily watched the witch who had started up the patting again. It took him a minute to realize she was talking, and he kept his ear on her voice as he worked.

"It's called percussion...my brother taught it to me. Cupping your hand is what makes it work...we think that's where the idea to slap someone's back came into play. Cupping does good, but slapping tends to shock them into inhaling, which is usually worse." Sam groaned briefly before another coughing fit overtook him. "By cupping your hand, you actually increase the vibrations, which helps to jar stuff loose. It also relaxes the muscles, which makes it really good for asthma attacks." She paused as Sam leaned forward, and he settled his elbows along his knees, covering his eyes with his hands. Autumn shifted closer, and started up again.

"So what about this Kelpie?" Her blue eyes flicked to Dean, and she smiled at him.

"I don't know what started it. A few weeks ago, one of the spirits warned me that a Kelpie had moved in. We had this problem a few months back, but Bobby had exorcised it, so I thought we were clear. At first it was friendly, but when the second one moved it....it sorta got mean. Dragged in a few cattle, and I know I've seen some rabbits get too close. All the fey in the area are terrified. I can't handle it on my own, so I thought Bobby could help me again, before one of the kids gets too close. I warned them I had a Hunter on the way, so they'd stay clear."

"Warned them?"

She nodded, switching back to rubbing circles as Sam's coughing started to taper off. "They know it's something big, mean and nasty if I have to call in a Hunter. Usually we can handle most problems on our own." She paused, and leaned in towards Sam. "Take a deep breath for me." Dean relaxed as the sound was normal, with only a little wheeze at the end. "Atta boy. Feel better now?" He made a face at the slime in the waste can, and slumped. "You want some Hunter's Sleep?"

"No." Dean snapped before Sam could answer. Witch she was, and there was no was she was gonna poison his brother. She glanced over at Dean, and shrugged.

"Okay. Just thought I'd offer. I'll leave you guys...holler if you need me." She got up, smoothing back some of the chestnut strands off Sam's face, and moved the trash can back to it's spot.

"Hey, Autumn?" She looked at Dean, and he offered her a smile. "Thank you." She inclined her head.

"Sleep well, Hunters. Peaceful sleep to you both."