Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire
Chp.33
Everything We've Tried
All other info is in the 1st chapter
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For the past two weeks they had all been listening to Dawn pleading with them for someone to do something for her sister.

Having tried to mind walk in Buffy’s head at least three times, Willow had told Dawn that she was giving up on that avenue, because she kept getting the same result every time. There was just no use in doing it again.

Dawn had slumped against the chair she sat in, and then an idea came to her, and she left the room like the hounds of hell were on her heels.

When she came back in, she was dragging Giles. The man had a book of healing spells wrapped securely in his arms.

After every spell that had even vaguely mentioned this type of ailment had been performed. Giles had also given up.

After watching the spectacular failures of the others, Xander had decided to try his own special kind of treatment.

He’d come in everyday, take Buffy’s hand in his, and start to talk. The prone form on the bed never made a move, but he’d keep talking about the evils they had fought in the past, and the movie nights they’d enjoyed in Sunnydale. He’s the only one that never gave up, being as bereft of the situation as Dawn is at the catatonic state his best friend is in. He never missed a day, and Dawn could set her watch by him. He always showed up right after noon, and didn’t leave for at least four hours.

On the odd occasion, Lorne would come up and try to read the aura of Buffy, but his efforts were in vain. He always said, “He couldn't get anything, other than blackness, and bleakness.” Granted he only did this to humor the little brunette sitting in the chair beside the bed, he knew there wasn’t anything to read, but he just couldn’t resist, those big, blue eyes, as they looked up at him pleadingly, and he’d do it yet again. Always shaking his head, as he related the same line every time.

Angel had been in at least as much as Xander, he’d sit on the opposite side of the bed from Dawn, and just hold Buffy’s hand. He never said a word, just sat there and from Dawn's point of view, brooded. Sometimes his forehead would rest on their clasped hands, as if he were saying a silent prayer, to who ever would listen.

They had all done this routine, over and over. They always got the same conclusion, that being, nothing ever seemed to help.

The Scooby’s had finally called a meeting, after two weeks of watching and waiting. They were going to have a discussion on what could possibly be done. Although, they really doubted that anything could be. They still had to try, it is Buffy for Christ sakes, and Jesus help anyone that got in their way.

It is now 2:00pm. They all sit in the kitchen, minus Dawn.

Xander’s leaning against the counter, a bag of potato chips in hand.

Willow’s sitting on a bar stool, behind the island, and drawing imaginary patterns with her index finger on the Formica covering the top.

Giles is sitting beside her. His glasses in hand, as he cleans them with a bright yellow handkerchief that Lorne had handed to him a few moments ago.

Angel leans on the door facing, his head resting, gently against his chest, and a frown marring his face, or it could be a glower. All his expressions seemed to be the same.
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Lorne had slid onto the counter beside Xander. His bright, blue suit, and plum colored shirt impeccably straight, with not a wrinkle to be seen. He takes in the somber mood of the room, and breathes a deep breath.

Looking to his vampire colleague, the green demon slides gracefully to his feet from his perch, beside of Xander on the counter. “Well.” He says, as his feet hit the floor. “Aren’t we supposed to be conversing about what to do with ‘little miss, sleeping beauty’ up there?” His eyes fall to the ceiling, as his index finger points upwards.

He walks over to the brooding vampire, and places a friendly arm over his shoulders. “Don’t you think it’d be a good thing if someone talks?” He asks, always being the icebreaker in a situation like this. His questions are answered with the crunching of a handful of potato chips in Xanders mouth.
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Looking up from the dutiful task of cleaning his glasses. “We’ve tried everything we know of.” Giles sighs, putting the seemingly spotless glasses on the top of the island. “I honestly don’t know what else could be done.” His eyes fall on the red head beside him, who’s still drawing imaginary pictures with her finger. “I’m not sure there is anything else would could try.” He explains, his straight posture faltering into a slumped down position on the stool he occupies, as he speaks.

Xander stands from his slouched position against the edge of the counter. “There’s gotta be something we could do, G-Man.” He says, pieces of potato chip falling from his mouth as he speaks.

Willow suddenly looks up from her drawing, as an idea makes its way into her head. She sits up straight, drawing all attention to her. “We could try to do everything at the same time.” She pipes in trying to be as peppy as she can at the prospect. As realization hits her, her posture and peppiness falls completely flat. “But that might be a total overload, and probably would kill her.” Her eyes finding Xanders, both of their heads hang. She sits and racks her brain for an answer, any answer.

“Maybe we could try two things at once, that shouldn’t be overload.” Xander says, hope evident in his voice, and shoves another mouthful of chips into his mouth.

“Xander, could you please quit eating those blasted things?”

“Uh.” The boy looks at the offending bag. “Sure G-man.” He rolls the bag up and shoves it behind him onto the counter. “Anyway. I was asking about trying two approaches at the same time.” He continues, with little pieces of chip flying from his mouth, as he sucks them from in between his teeth.

Giles picks his glasses back up, inspecting them once again, thinking on the possibilities that Xander had just thrown at him. Then he sighs as the glasses make it back onto his face. “That’s actually a pretty good idea, Xander. The only thing is, and this is just my way of looking at it, but I think it may do more harm than good.” His gaze falls on the man across from him.

Angel pushes himself off of the door facing, and walks to the end of the island. “I know I’ve made the suggestion a few times, but I’m gonna say it again.” He takes a deep, un-needed breath, and gauges the group assembled in the room with him. “Don’t you think we should take her over to the medical ward at the offices? Since we’ve tried everything we could here, why not let some medical assistance help figure it out? Maybe they can bring her out of it with the whole medical know how.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and awaits the on-slaught of rage, and various other assorted torture for the suggestion.

“As loathe as I am to admit defeat, Angel has a point. We’ve tried every avenue I can think of, even some I’ve wholly disagreed with. It’s time to see if science can help her. We all know magic has done nothing.” At each word he mutters, his demeanor souring more and more, his posture becomes a slouch, and his head finally rests in his hand, as he admits his defeat. Defeat that he has to take Buffy to that evil place, and if she wakes in it, and realizes it, she will be more than livid.
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(Yep, Mostly this is just a contiuation of the last Scobby chapter. In which Giles had already made his mind up to take Buffy to W&H, but had just been waiting for Angel to offer again. Needlessly to say, he didn't want to bring it up to the big foreheaded one.)