After watching the preview for "Playthings" a couple of times I came up with this story to explain why Sam is falling into the pool. Definitely in AU land with this one. I'm not good with titles – it just sounded right at 0030 in the morning.
You Shouldn't Go Swimming With Your Clothes On
Sam looked for a stairway off the mezzanine above the indoor pool. He turned around when a cold breeze blew from behind him. He brought his shotgun up and backed away from the white mist that was coalescing into the form of a large man. "You're not going to hurt them anymore!" the man growled at him.
"Uhm no," Sam replied backing into the mezzanine railing, "that wasn't me. The guy who hurt your wife and daughter is dead. Remember?" Sam glanced behind him, down into the pool, and back at the man who had moved close enough that he was now within three inches of the barrel on Sam's shotgun.
He grinned evilly at Sam, "I'm going to tear you from limb to limb, Eli. No one will find your remains. Victoria and Annika will be safe."
Dean could see Sam backed against the mezzanine railing when he looked through the glass in the doors leading from the patio into the pool area. He also saw the spirit of George Anderson standing way to close to Sam for comfort. "Sam!" he yelled, pounding on the locked door.
Sam heard Dean's muffled yelling as he started to slide against the railing trying to get some distance between him and George. "For the millionth time George, I'm not Eli. You killed him 80 years ago and 6 months after that you died from a brain tumor. Victoria outlived you by 20 years and Annika is in a nursing home in Absarokee, Montana." Sam looked behind him again and spotted a spiral staircase forty feet away.
"Annika's alive?" George's expression softened then hardened again, "no Eli, I will not listen to anymore of your lies. It's time to die!" he roared. George launched himself at Sam at the same time as Sam pulled the trigger; rock salt sprayed George who screamed in anger. George's spirit lost some of its forward momentum but had enough left to push Sam backwards, over the railing.
Dean was pounding on the door with a sculptural column trying to break the thick glass when he heard the gunshot and George's angry scream. He looked in and saw Sam falling into the pool. "SAM!"
Sam managed to twist himself around so that he landed in the pool feet first. He hit the thin plastic of the pool cover and it wound itself around him as he plunged to the bottom. Sam kicked off the bottom and struggled to get out of the pool cover as he swam to the top of the pool. He broke the surface and took in a deep breath of air before something yanked him by his feet back under the water. "Aah." Sam kicked and struggled trying to free himself from George's iron grip.
Dean smashed through the glass panes, dropped the column and shoved his hand in the opening, cutting himself on the shards, and unlocked the door. He rushed in towards the pool looking for his brother.
He kicked George and clawed at the pool cover but he was losing the battle. Sam's struggles grew weaker as the lack of oxygen took its toll. His movements stilled as he lost consciousness and sank to the bottom of the pool. George smiled at Sam's unmoving body. "Goodbye Eli," he chuckled and disappeared.
"Sammy!" yelled Dean when he stopped at the edge of the pool. He looked down and saw Sam not moving at the bottom of the pool. "No. Sammy," Dean said while tearing off his jacket and kicking off his boots. He dived in and swam down to his brother; he desperately clawed the plastic away from Sam, grabbed him under his arms and kicked off the bottom. The pool cover twisted around Sam, Dean would later swear that it was alive, but Dean kicked for all he was worth and managed to pull Sam away from the plastic and up to the surface. He swam to the shallow end, lifted and rolled Sam on to the poolside and hauled himself out of the water. He placed his hand on Sam's neck and found a slow pulse, he placed his ear above Sam's mouth and his other hand on Sam's chest but could not hear or feel any breathing. "Damn it." He rolled Sam onto his stomach, turned his head to the side and pushed down on his back above his lungs. Dean watched as water flowed out of Sam's mouth, he then rolled Sam back over again and listened for breathing. "I can't believe you're going to make me do this Sammy," Dean muttered as he pinched Sam's nose shut and breathed into his mouth. He gave Sam two breaths, waited a second and gave him two more breaths. He checked Sam's pulse and breathing again. Sam still wasn't breathing; Dean repeated the rescue breathing procedure again. "Damn it Sam, you can't do this to me. Now breathe!" Dean blew into Sam's lungs four more times before Sam started coughing and spitting up water. Dean rolled Sam onto his side as he coughed and shook. He rubbed him on the back and said, "it's okay Sammy. Just breathe." Sam tried to breathe deep but it just sent him into a raspy coughing fit.
"Thanks Dean," Sam whispered when he rolled onto his back and coughed some more.
"Your welcome. Now lets get you to the hospital," he said as he helped Sam stand up. "We don't need you developing pneumonia just so that you can get out of a simple salt and burn." Dean grabbed his boots and jacket and put them back on.
"You mean I don't get to sit on the sideline and supervise?" Sam said weakly before bending over and coughing up more water.
"You wish." Dean helped Sam out to the Impala, "wait here while I grab a blanket Sam."
"The upholstery, eh?"
"You got it," replied Dean as he grabbed a couple of blankets from the back seat and wrapped one around his dripping, shivering brother, sat him down on the passenger seat, closed the door, ran around the Impala and placed another blanket on the driver's seat before getting in himself.
"Amsterdam is starting to look good," Sam said tiredly.
Dean glanced over at his brother and thought, It is Sammy. It definitely is.