Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Chapter 2

Willow was genuinely frightened, and that was an emotion she thought she had gotten over as she had been through so much in the last few years. What was left that could scare her? She'd survived the death of her best friend, twice; the loss of Tara; the fact that she was a murderer, the end of Sunnydale; the greatest spell that she or almost anyone else had ever cast - what could be scarier than those things? But the sight of Buffy's unnaturally pale, vampire pale in fact, face, with those bright red lips that were the result of no lipstick known to mankind (if you could market that kind of staying power for a lip colour, you'd be a millionaire in about a day. Most women would kill for that) - well, that terrified her.

Because no one, and she meant no one, had a clue what had happened to Buffy. Forget doctors and specialists. All they could say was that it was acoma of unknown origin, and they were playing the wait and see game. Willow wanted to be doing something but all they could do was sit in the hospital, just sit and hope for a sign that Buffy would come back to them. And, oh God, could they bear to go through that again, any of them? How many times could one person return from what seemed to be death? Even Buffy was not immortal.

What was really scary was that this was no coma, at least, not one caused by normal means. This was supernatural in origin or Willow would renounce magic and go be the lawyer or doctor or accountant her parents had always wanted her to be. She knew the signs and so did Dawn, which was why she had called Willow and asked her to come thousands of miles to Italy. An expert in all things mystical was needed. So Willow had come, leaving Kennedy training slayers back home. 'Don't worry, Dawnie, we'll find out what's wrong with her. She's died twice and she survived that, so a little old coma shouldn't be a problem.' (And if Willow did not really believe that, then how could she comfort Dawn?)

Dawn smiled wanly and went to get some terrible coffee from the machine down the corridor. Even in Italy, hospital coffee tasted like it had been drained from the oil tank of some ancient truck, but she needed the distraction. Things had been going so well. (OK, for her, maybe. She was smart enough to realise that Buffy's 'happiness' was a little put on. They rarely spoke of Sunnydale and that final day, but Dawn knew that part of Buffy had died that day, the part once occupied by the owner of a pair of crystal blue eyes and peroxided hair.)Yet they had been having fun in Italy. Buffy was not always out trying to kill monsters or save the world. They were actually living like normal people, well, relatively speaking. For the first time in a long while, Dawn had felt safe, like the powers of darkness were not out to get them. And now this.

There were no obvious signs that anything was wrong with Buffy. All the tests had been negative - she just wouldn't wake up. The only thing the doctors had found was a small scratch on her arm but it did not look to be anything unusual. One of her shoes had been splashed with some foul smelling liquid which Willow had sent to the nearest Watchers' Council for analysis. (Like Giles in England, Italy was trying to rebuild its network of Slayers and Watchers after the devastation wrought by the First's minions. However, they had enough of an organisation left to run some basic tests.) She had also sent the rotten fruit which had been saved by Dawn as evidence, but analysis had shown nothing out of the ordinary with anything. The fruit was just fruit and the slime some kind of demon residue, though they did not recognise what kind. Dawn insisted that the only healthy food in the apartment the day before Buffy's collapse had been some bananas and a couple of rather squashy tomatoes. So why would Buffy bring home a bag of bad fruit?

Buffy lay there in her hospital bed. Willow did not like the look of her, even though she actually looked beautiful. Her skin was porcelain white, her lips rose red and glistening. She seemed to be surrounded by a misty glow and her blonde hair had never looked more like skeins of golden silk as it lay on her pillow surrounding her face. She did not look real, more like a picture in a storybook. This was supernatural, she was completely certain of it.

Willow had drawn a blank and so had everyone she knew and all the people they knew: the wiccas, the shamans, the demonologists, all those who might be expected to have an insight into what could have caused this. She had called Giles. She had even called Angel at Wolfram and Hart. He had probably the best resources in the world when it came to anything paranormal, but so far no one had any idea.

So it was back to research-y mode; something familiar, something that at least felt like it could be useful. Endless hours spent trawling through the Internet, wishing she was back in the Magic Box with all those deadly dull ancient tomes that had, on more than one occasion, saved them by having just the right information they needed.

Willow smiled to herself, remembering all those times in the shop, with the Scoobies sat round the table. If only she were there now! Dawn would be looking at books that she really shouldn't read, trying to pretend that the awful images often to be found in them were no big deal, that she was grown-up enough to handle them. Anya and Xander would be bickering and getting very little research done. Or they would be making googly eyes at each other, planning how soon they could leave and rush home to bed. Actually, that last part could equally describe Tara and herself, though they would have felt more guilt about it than the other two.

Buffy would be in the back room training, having become bored with the books in about three seconds, her attention span for research being about equal to a toddler's. Giles would be glaring at Xander as he made his silly jokes or he would be riveted by a particular large, musty and obscure book, unable to understand why everyone else was not as fascinated as he was. In her fantasy she even had a little place for Spike, standing apart from everyone, trying to look like he wanted to be alone, to be the cool, tough rebel, yet really just wanting to be accepted by Buffy in some way, just to be allowed into her world. Strange how this mismatched band of misfits had usually managed to work out what to do, so that the world could be saved, yet again.

'Well, Willow, my girl, you and Dawnie are on your own and it's up to you to fix this. No time for mopey reminiscences. We're going to work out what did this and how to wake Buffy up.' She didn't even realise she was speaking aloud.

'Splendid. I'm glad to hear it. And I might be able to help.'

'Giles! When did you get here? I'm so happy to see you!' She was overcome with joy at seeing someone who had always been a rock in their lives, the stable father figure that most of them lacked. He might be uptight and rather a fusspot but he was usually reliable and, in their present predicament, it was really great to share the burden with someone. It was sooooooo exhausting being a grown-up.

In her relief, she flung herself at him and hugged him tightly. He coughed and gently pulled away, embarrassed but rather touched. Willow went pink and backed away. 'Um. Here she is. Still no change.' And Willow moved to the side so that Giles could see Buffy.

Giles stood where he was for a very long moment, while the muscles tensed in his jaw as he tried to control the powerful emotions that coursed through him when he saw Buffy lying there, so unnaturally still and pale. She looked so small and vulnerable, and that was not his Buffy. He swallowed and then walked slowly to her bedside. Very tentatively he picked up one of her icy cold hands and held it between both of his, trying to impart some warmth into it.

After what seemed like hours, he felt like he had gained some control over his voice, so he cleared his throat and asked Willow, 'So you have been unable to ascertain what caused this?' Willow was going through the whole story again when she heard a commotion outside the door.

She turned to see two familiar but unexpected faces. Their owners were each trying to get through the door first and they were pushing each other. 'Xander! Andrew! What on earth are you doing here?' Willow rushed joyfully towards the pair of them, hugging each in turn. 'Will! Am I glad to see you!' 'Willow, queen of all witches, it is a privilege to be in your presence once more!' The three of them were all talking at the same time until an exasperated Giles turned to them and said loudly in his clear English voice, 'Yes, all right, the grand reunion is very touching, but we are in a hospital, not a zoo. Could you please tone it down a little? Buffy may be very ill.'

That shut them up. Xander and Andrew came slowly towards the bed, where they stood looking down at the Slayer's still, silent form. Even Andrew could not think what to say. Xander caressed Buffy's cheek gently with one hand, his eyes suspiciously bright. 'What the hell has done this to her? How are we going to fix it?' Xander asked in a fierce whisper. Willow decided to take them to the cafeteria to bring them up to speed about Buffy's situation. Giles stayed by her bedside, holding her hand and trying to calm the violent anger he could feel building up inside him at who or whatever had done this to his girl.

In the cafeteria the boys were explaining to Dawn (who had given a very unsophisticated squeal of delight when she had seen them and had caused both of them to blush by the fierceness of her welcome hugs) and Willow why they were there. 'We were on Council business in England,' explained Andrew, trying and failing not to sound self -important when he said that, 'when Giles got the news from you about Buffy. Of course we had to come; the Scoobies are always there for the Slayer, no matter what.'

Willow gave him and Xander a grateful smile. 'I'm so happy you're here, all the Scoobies together again.' She winced when she saw the fleeting look of pain cross Xander's face. 'Well, not all of us, of course, but still... Buffy would be happy to know we're together again, sorting out the demons or whatever it is.' 'So, what is it we are dealing with exactly?' asked Xander.

And for the next hour Willow and the others went through every aspect of what had happened, going over and over the details with Dawn, until she said in exasperation, 'Guys! I've told you everything I know a million times. Nothing weird was going on. We've been leading pretty normal lives, for us. Buffy still patrols sometimes but there's been very little action, of the supernatural kind anyway.' She blushed when she realised what she had said. 'You know what I mean!'

'Where is Mr Perfect, anyway?' asked Xander slightly resentfully. 'I sent the Immortal away on a fact-finding mission,' Willow replied. 'He was getting to be a little annoying. He's a bit overdramatic and I kept finding him here weeping over Buffy going, 'Why, my darling, why?' It was not helping. He knows someone who's an expert in ancient curses, so he's gone to see what he can find out.'

After a while they were joined by Giles. The nurses were giving Buffy a bed bath so he had beaten a hasty retreat. The five of them sat drinking the awful coffee and trying to come up with a plan of action. They worked out a schedule for staying at the hospital to keep an eye on Buffy and those not on Buffy watch would be out looking for clues, doing research, trying to find out anything. Willow and Dawn had already been doing that but they all felt that they would go mad sitting around doing nothing.

'So we're agreed, then, on who is doing what?' asked Giles. 'Yep,' replied Xander. 'Let's get started. Dawn and I are going to the National Library. Her Italian is way better than mine, but I can cause a distraction if we need to steal any ancient books.'

'That is no laughing matter, Xander. Stealing a book is one of the worst crimes there ...' Giles stopped at the look of amusement on everyone's faces. 'Very funny. But book theft is not something I can laugh about.' Trying to maintain his dignity, the Watcher got up slowly, and then spoilt it by saying, 'Right everyone, hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go.' They all looked at him oddly. Not the normal way Giles spoke. He looked a little surprised at himself and went off shaking his head.

And so it continued for the next week: sitting by Buffy's bed, research, meeting all kinds of weird and wonderful people and some who were not people, through the contacts all of them had acquired both in Italy and elsewhere. But they got nowhere. Buffy was clearly under some kind of spell or curse, but they were no nearer to finding a clue.

Then the Immortal returned with a lead. He had met with a demon who had heard whispers that the Slayer being in Italy had upset a few underworld creatures, some of whom were very powerful. The destruction of Sunnydale and the creation of so many slayers had sent ripples throughout the forces of darkness. Evil was down, but not out. And some were ready for revenge. The rumour the Immortal had heard was that an ancient curse had been enacted against Buffy. The name he had was the demoness Myrsina. A day spent reading some old books provided by an Italian librarian friend of Giles gave them a possible answer.

Dawn looked up from the huge, musty tome she had been ploughing through. 'It says here that Myrsina was the origin of the stories of Snow White and Sleeping Beauty: something about a female demon who was jealous of the beauty of human girls and put a curse on them.'

'But that makes perfect sense. The red apple, the hi hos we keep coming out with, the enchanted sleep...' exclaimed Giles excitedly. And then he was off on one of his long, 'informative speeches. The others rolled their eyes at each other, except for Willow who was happy to see Giles looking so animated and almost back to his old Watcher self.

'Most folk or fairy tales have some basis in truth. Rumplestiltskin, Hansel and Gretel, Jack and the Beanstalk, to name a few, all tell of real-life encounters with demons. They were a way for people to try to understand what was happening around them, or to make it a little less frightening.

'You're right! Think about Dracula or zombies, or witches! Most people think they are just stories and yet they all exist.' Willow was trying in her Willowish way to show enthusiasm, while the rest of the gang had the usual look of boredom on their face that they always got listening to a lecture from Giles.

Giles tried to hide his pleasure that someone was showing an interest in what he had to say. Encouraged, he continued, 'In the 18th Century, the writer Johann Musäus wrote down many so called folk tales, some of which influenced others, such as the Brothers Grimm. He knew his stories were true, but he disguised them as fiction. Over the years, of course, the stories have been changed or sanitized, or added to, in different communities. It's all terribly fascinating. There are some marvellous treatises on the supernatural origin of folkloric narratives. I'll have to look them up. I remember one in particular by Professor...'

Xander could take it no more. 'Well, that's super interesting; remind me to borrow it from you some day. But... reality check - how does it help us to wake Buffy up?'

Giles looked a little put out at having his speech interrupted. 'If you had let me finish, I could have told you that what we have to do is find out more about Myrsina. The most complete records of the true nature of European fairy tales are in Musäus' book 'Volksmärchen und Dämonen Manuskript.' The only one I know of was destroyed by the First when the Council building in England was blown up. But there may be others in existence.'

Dawn was looking a little perplexed. 'If fairy stories are true, what does that say about Walt Disney? Did he know about demons?

'Oh, he was a notorious demon hunter in his time,' said Giles. 'It was well known in Watcher circles. Though when he decided to use his knowledge to make children's entertainment, it was considered to be rather vulgar.'

Andrew, who had been unnaturally quiet, spoke up, 'So how can we get this book? Where do we start looking? Oh, it's hopeless, hopeless! Who can save Buffy now?'

Giles gave him a withering look and said, 'Excuse me. I have some phone calls to make.'

And, with that, he left the cafeteria, leaving the others looking at each other. It was left to Willow to try to inject a lighter note. 'See, now we have a plan. Buffy will be awake in no time and she will be so happy to everyone back together!' The others smiled at her, with differing degrees of optimism, according to their nature.