Summary: Very AU. Everyone is human. Every town has a house with a story, with a past. Sunnydale was no different. But Crawford Manor was much more than just a house. It's alive and events that were set in motion over a decade ago are finally come to ahead. And it's all because of one platinum blonde bad boy, William Giles.

Spoilers: None.

Pairings: Buffy/Angel, Willow/Tara, Wes/Fred, Cordelia/Riley with hints of past Darla/Angel, and future Buffy/Spike. It will be a Spuffy story eventually, just fair warning to all those that aren't Spuffy fans.

Author's Notes: Hello everyone. This would have been up earlier today but for some reason hates me and wouldn't let me upload. So here you go, your slightly late chapter two. Hope you all enjoy

Haunting Dreams

Spike ignored the protests of his father as he dragged his weary body up the stairs. His back felt like it was on fire and every step sent white hot bursts of pain coursing through his body. Every muscle revolted against the movements but stopping would mean facing his father again. And after spending practically the whole night in the library with his father, friends and Angel, the idea of talking anymore made his head want to explode.

He sighed as he got the middle of the stairs and his legs threatened to give out from exertion. He tried to move a little more but his body just wouldn't cooperate. Just as he was about to let himself fall, a gentle arm wrapped around his waist, steadying him and helping him up the remaining steps. Spike leaned against his father and they remained in silence until they reached his room. Giles helped ease his son onto his bed and immediately started pacing.

"Guess we know where I got that habit from," Spike muttered. Giles stopped short and glared at his injured child. Spike looked up at him innocently. "What?"

"You could have told me you were hurt."

"I could have but then I would have had to explain everything that happening last night. And you wouldn't have been too happy with me, pops."

"As much as I love hearing your sarcasm, William. I would have been upset that you went into that house but your health and well being are more important to me," Giles sighed, his face and tone softening. "You're all I've got left, Will."

Spike looked away nodding his head slowly. "I know. I'm sorry, dad."

"I know. Now lie down, I need to see how bad your back is."

He watched as his son removed his shirt gingerly and lay down on his stomach. Giles winced at the angry vivid bruising marring his son's skin but nothing looked life threatening just painful. After putting some cream that would aid with the bruising he helped his son change into his pajamas.

"Are you mad at me?" Spike asked looking up at him. Giles smiled and sat down beside him. Even though he had every right in the world to be furious with the boy, he just couldn't make himself. Especially not when he was looking at him with eyes wide and innocent, looking for all the world like his mother. He ruffled his son's hair.

"No, Will, I'm not mad at you," he sighed, heavily. "From everything I've heard you couldn't help but be drawn to the house. And based off what happened, I'd say that house has a lot more going on than anyone has given it credit for. You are the key to that and I don't know why. From a purely historical view, I think it would be marvelous if you were to try and solve this mystery. But as your father, I say bullocks to the whole ludicrous idea and I'm more than willing to pack it up and move if you want. I hear New York is great this time of year."

Spike's lips curled into the first smile he had given all day. "Thanks, dad. For the record, you're doing a good job."

Giles smiled wider as he nodded. "I think I'm doing a smashing job, if I do say so myself." He paused. "She would be proud of you, you know?"

Spike raised an eyebrow skeptically. "She'd be proud of me sneaking into abandoned buildings at night and then breaking the windows of said building?"

"Well, I don't think she'd be proud of your choice in extra curricular activities or the nickname," Giles amended with a laugh. "But pushing that aside I think you've grown into a well adjusted young man. You're smart, Will. Smarter than you give yourself credit for. You've also got a wonderful group of friends who care for you very much. And if you ever tell them this, I'll rip you apart myself. They're a decent bunch of kids." He paused. "For a bunch of Americans. And Wesley."

Spike closed his eyes and laughed. "Yeah, they really are. Thanks dad, for you know, being there. I know I'm a pain but I really do appreciate you."

Giles reached over and pulled him into a hug being careful of his bruised back. When he pulled back he saw the smirk on Spike's face. He ruffled his hair again and pushed him away with a similar smirk.

"Go to bed, you look like shit."

"Thanks a lot, Ripper!" Spike shot back.

"I'm going to kill Ethan for telling you about that," Giles sighed. "You two have been a pain in my ass ever since."

"Is Tara still coming this weekend?" he asked, yawning.

"Of course," Giles eased him back onto the bed, pulling the covers up. "You know you two can't be apart for more than two months before one or both of you start acting out."

"Is that what we're calling this? Me acting out?"

Giles smiled, running a hand over his son's hair. "No, I call this reckless, stupid and undeniably you. Breaking into a supposedly haunted house just reeks of you."

"Mmm hmm," Spike murmured, already half asleep. Giles leaned down placing an uncharacteristic kiss on his son's forehead.

"I love you, Will."

"Love you too, dad" there was a brief pause and Giles figured he had fallen asleep. "You're going to pay for that, I hope you know."

The older man laughed and sat back on the bed as his son finally gave into sleep. He watched him for awhile suddenly griped by an irrational fear of loosing him. He knew it was crazy. A house. He was afraid of a bloody house taking away his child. But he had heard both Angel's and Xander's accounts about the previous night. They flowed together too well. There was no way they were both lying despite his need for that to be the case. But whether he believed it or not, something in that house wanted to take away his boy. But he'd be damned if they did.

The first thing that he noticed as he looked around the room was that he was most definitely not home. This place was foreign and it gave off vibes of sadness and death. Despite the warm, almost inviting décor and atmosphere, he felt cold and alone. And suddenly all he wanted was to find his father and crawl into his bed like he used to when he was younger. The sun was shining through the high windows brightly and he couldn't help but think it was wrong for the sun to be so bright. Things just didn't feel right. Still he stepped forward against his own accord and made his way into a small parlor. The sun was even brighter in the room and glinted off the blonde hair of one the two girls sitting a small table in the corner. They were giggling and looked up from their private conversation to smile at him.

"Well it's about time you joined us silly," the older blonde said with a huge smile. "Lydia and I have been quite bored waiting all this time for you to find your way back home."

"Are you talking to me?" Spike asked hesitantly. "Because if you are then I think you ducks got the wrong bloke." The younger of the girls frowned and looked to her sister. The blonde frowned for a moment before smiling again. Her smile rivaling the sun in its brightness.

"Don't be silly, William. You've been missing for so long but now you're finally home and we can be a family again."

"A family?" he turned around to see three men walking in. The older looking man had graying hair and brown eyes that peered at him through glasses. He smiled at the confused young man lovingly.

"William, welcome home!" he pulled Spike into a hug before releasing him into the embrace of the other two men.

"Welcome home, brother," the oldest of the pair said. "Jacob here didn't think you would be coming. I told him that you would find your way eventually."

"Of course Michael, because you know everything," Jacob rolled his eyes. He had piercing brown eyes and a friendly yet familiar smile. It was a smile that Spike remembered seeing before. Realization dawned on him as he realized that this was the Crawford family. He recognized them from a picture hanging in that very same parlor the night before. For some reason he was talking to a family that had been dead for almost eighty years.

And the weirdness didn't stop there. His heart almost stopped beating as he saw the woman who walked into the parlor a moment later. Everything about her was familiar and created a desperate sense of need in him. The brown hair that was swept up into a delicate chiffon bun that revealed her delicate neck and sharp cheekbones. She swept into the room with delicate grace and ease. For a moment he was taken back to a time when he was young and all was right with his world.

"Mom?" his voice shook giving the word extra syllables. "But this can't be. I saw you… you died. You can't be here."

"I'm here and now you are too, William. You're home, my darling boy."

Spike shook his head, tears clouding his vision somewhat. "What about dad? What about him?"

"I'm right here, William. What ever are you talking about?"

He fixed his cool gaze on the man now seated at the table. "You are not my father! Rupert Giles is my father."

The older girl rose to her feet and stood in front of Spike before his father could say anything. "William, why are you making this so difficult. Just accept that this is where you belong. Come home to us."

"No," Spike put a hand up, backing away from her. "No way in bloody hell. This isn't real. All you people are dead! I'm not dead. So bugger it all. I want out of this dream."

"Now you listen here!" Michael the elder rose to his feet in anger. His wife placed a calming hand on his arm, while the older girl merely smiled serenely.

"It's alright, Father. He will come to accept it in time. For now he just needs to wake up. Do you hear me, William? Its time for you to wake up."

Spike woke with a start blinking rapidly at the ceiling above him. The view was replaced a moment later by the sight of his father staring at him in concern. Spike sat up, still panting somewhat. Giles sat down on the bed beside him and handed him the mug in his hands. He gave his father a confused look.

"You looked like you needed it more than I do," Giles shrugged. "Rough dream?"

"You have no idea," he gulped down the coffee quickly and motioned for his father to move. "I'll tell you at lunch, okay?"

"You sure you're up for school today? You look a little," he paused. "Not good."

"Thanks, dad," he retorted, dryly. "But I'm fine. I need to talk to the others."

Giles paused, hesitantly. "Fine, but if you feel bad at any point today, you will tell me, right?" Spike nodded. "You're lying. I love you but you're lying. Let's go. I know better than to try and stop you when you have your heart set on something. I guess I should appreciate that you actually want to go to school for once."

Spike pushed himself off the bed, hurriedly putting his clothes on and followed his father to the car. They managed to make it to school just in time for Spike to skid by Principal Snyder with a smirk and a glib comment and race to his homeroom seat next to Xander. Xander started to comment on his appearance but a stern look warned him of the repercussions of that action.

After homeroom, he had first period gym with Xander, Fred, and the more obnoxious half of the Fang Gang, Darla and Riley. He walked over to the pair and informed that he needed to speak to their fearless leader. When Riley laughed at him, Spike had merely walked away. Later though as they were playing dodge ball, he 'accidentally' threw the ball so hard it almost broke his nose. But of course it was purely by accident.

"So exactly how much trouble are you in for the whole nose incident, anyway?" Wesley asked, during their lunch period. He was trying to appear stern but Xander's and Spike's very colorful rendition of Riley's unfortunate accident wouldn't allow for the usual reproaching tone he would have used. Wesley shook his head. "You're going to get yourself tossed out of here like you did back in England. Is that what you want?" To his dismay, Spike just grinned.

"It was an accident, Wes," he said, trying hard to wipe the smile off his face. "I just didn't see his face there, I swear."

"You're just lucky that Ms. Calendar was substituting and she thinks your dad is hot," Fred reminded him. "Or else you would have been in a lot more trouble."

"That and everyone else at this school is as sick of those Fang Gang jerks as we are," Xander added.

"Gee, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside," a voice above them said. They looked up to see Angel standing there with his lunch tray. And without as much as a warning he plopped down beside Willow. He turned his attention to his lunch but pointed his fork in Spike's direction before speaking. "So Riley tells me you wanted to speak with me. Or at least that's what I deciphered from his whines through his not broken, but definitely messed up, nose."

"I'm not sorry about that, Peaches."

"I know," Angel looked up from his lunch. "Me either." Spike nodded in mutual understanding. Perhaps Angel wasn't that bad after all. "So really what did you need to talk to me about?"

Spike sighed, his jovial attitude disappearing rapidly. "I had a dream last night."

"And this involves me, how?"

Wesley cleared his throat as he noticed that Fred had taken more than a slight interest in the turn this conversation had taken. The Texan put a hand over her mouth to hide her wide smile. Beside her, Willow was doing the same. Spike narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

"Do your minds constantly live in the gutter?" he reprimanded, only half seriously. "But to answer the question, poof, yes it does. I had a dream about Crawford Manor and its infamous residents."

"What? When was this and why was I not informed?" Xander's eyes widened. "Spike, this is getting out of hand. Now you're dreaming about dead people? What next? We seriously need to put an end to this."

"I agree, and that's why I've come to a decision," he sighed, uncomfortable with all the eyes suddenly focusing on him. "We do need to figure out what's going on. Because somehow… my mother is involved and I need to know how and why."

"Your mother?" Wesley repeated softly. He put a hand on his younger friend's shoulder. "You know that she's…."

"Gone, I know, Wes. But somehow she's connected with all this," he laughed dryly. "This, whatever you want to call it. I need to know." Spike then looked to Angel. "So I'm in. I'm going to help you. But you need to promise me that this isn't going to bite me in the ass later."

"I promise."

"And keep your bunch of freaks away from me and mine. 'Sides you and Dru, there isn't a decent one amongst the lot."

The sound of a throat clearing prompted them all to turn around. Buffy Summers stood behind them arching an eyebrow gracefully. "Well you sure know how to make a girl feel welcome," she quipped, sitting beside Angel. "We were wondering where you disappeared off to. I guess I can see why you didn't tell us where you were eating today. Riley's not exactly happy at the moment."

Spike rolled his eyes, regretting the move as it made the headache that had been slowly forming even worse. He pushed his picked over lunch away, dumping it on Wesley's tray and rose from the table. "Hey, where are you going?" Xander asked.

"Got to talk to my dad," he replied, shrugging off Xander's concern. The two friends had a staring match with Xander finally conceding that Spike couldn't really get into that much trouble going to a library. Although, this was Spike he was talking about. At the rate he was going he'd probably be abducted by an ancient race of vampires that lived in the school's basement. Xander snorted at the mental image the thought produced, earning him several curious looks. Spike cleared his throat and looked over to Angel. "Peaches, if you're really serious about this, I'll be in the library today after school. And remember what I said."

He walked away from the table before anyone could say anything further. As he walked the familiar route to the library on autopilot, he couldn't help but go over the dream in his mind. He had been trying to process it the whole day but he still couldn't understand what it all meant. They wanted him to go home? But he was home. He was with his family. His father. Wasn't he? He rubbed his forehead tiredly. Stupid sodden house. Should have been torched years ago and then none of this would be happening. As his headache grew worse, he leaned his weary body against the wall behind him.

"So maybe school wasn't the best idea today after all," he muttered, as the pounding in his head grew stronger. Suddenly there was a gentle tapping on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and groaned when he saw who it was. "What do you want?"

"Well I wanted to see if you were alright, but I guess that's out of the question," Buffy snapped. They rolled their eyes in unison, each turning away from the other to stare down the hall in opposite directions. "So are you okay?" she finally asked after a long pause.

"Do I look okay? A bloody house is haunting me! The best case scenario here is that I've gone completely bonkers."

Buffy's face softened and she moved closer to him. Her hand moved hesitantly towards his shoulder. When he didn't move away or make any outward signs of rejection, the girl rested it there lightly. "If it makes you feel better, I don't think you're crazy."

"I wish I was, pet," he sighed, closing his eyes. Another silence passed over the pair as they stood in the empty hallway. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"I'm not that bad, am I?"

He opened his eyes and fixed her with a look. "There hasn't been a day since I met you that you haven't glared at me for something."

"That's usually because you're opening your mouth without thinking. You can be really obnoxious, you know that?"

"Some find that to be an attractive trait in me," he protested, with a slight smile. "But if I'm so annoying, why are you here with me?"

Buffy let her hand slide away as a slight flush entered her face. "Because maybe I don't think you're annoying all of the time. And besides, I was worried about you."

"Worried about me? That's a first," he closed his eyes again.

"What's this thing you're doing with Angel?"

"And we get to what you really wanted. This was really all about Angel."

She suppressed the urge to smack him and clenched her hands tightly at her side. "I told you I came over here to talk to you. Why do you always have to be such a jerk?"

"Because that's who I am, princess. Take it or leave it." He pushed himself off the wall and started to walk away.

"I'm not done with you!"

"Well I'm done with you!" he retorted. She started after him catching up to him quickly given the slow pace he had adopted. He glared over at her, but didn't dare to stop. He just wanted her to leave him alone. After a few minutes, he realized she wasn't leaving his side. "What do you want from me, Buffy? If you want to know what your precious boyfriend is up to so badly, why not just ask him? Why are you harassing me?"

"Angel won't tell me what's going on."

Spike scoffed. "Great, so because Peaches is clamming up on you, you've decided to bug me for answers."

"No," she said, softly. Her tone prompted him to stop walking and turn around to face her. "I meant what I said before, Spike. I am worried about you. Not Angel. From what I saw last night, whatever is in that house is after you and not him. I guess what I'm saying is that if you're planning on going back in there, just be careful, alright?"

For once in his life, William Giles was at a loss for words. Finally, he managed to overcome his stupor enough to nod his head. Buffy smiled at him and her hand somehow found its way to his. "So, now that you understand. You going to let me in on this idea of yours so I can help or what?"

Spike still couldn't form real words but the smile that crossed his lips at that moment was more than enough of an answer for her. She was in.

And that's about as fluffy as this story is going to get. At least for now. I'm still writing it so it might get worse. They might even hug. ;-)