Edward was fortunate that only he lived in his place and that his father wasn't there or it would get very bad. It always did. Jonathan lured them home, it was his job since he was 8. The experiments were more important than anything else. It dominated their entire world. Edward would have been perfect for his father, he would have broken him easily.

He was glad he didn't ever get to. Edward was his. Or, at least, in a small way - in his dreams - he was.

Jonathan finished his chicken in record time and wiped his hands on a napkin, tossing it into the trash. "It's nothing sinister. Relax. It's just better than the rain."