Jon's P.O.V.

It was hard to hold in the smirk that was threatening to appear. Everything was fitting into place beautifully. I didn't even have to worry about making Ridley suspicious if my motives by asking her if she wanted to know more about her past; she came to me.

Walking into my lab, I offered Ridley a chair and was quite annoyed when she ignored it and decided to sit on the nearby table. It was going to take me a while to clean it now.

"So," I said, leaning against the table across from her, "what can I do for you?"

A flicker of annoyance crossed Ridleys face, I told you, she signed, I want information about my past.

'Oh, this'll be good. What are you going to tell her, Jonny Boy?' Scarecrow asked with a chuckle.

'Let me handle this,' I reply, 'I promise you'll get to do the dirty work later, ok?'

'You're no fun,' Scarecrow said, but remained quiet after that.

"What makes you think I'll have the answers?" I ask Ridley, crossing my arms.

Ridley hesitated before answering me, Well, you're Edward's best friend so I figured that he might've told you some things.

That blasted word again, friend. Like it was such a carefree thing. More of a constraint than anything else. Friends were just people that got close to you only to hurt and leave you in the end; something that I was just now starting to realize.

"Edward's told me a lot of things," I said carefully, not to lose my grip on my emotions. It wouldn't be good to lose it in front of Ridley. "What is it about your past that you'd like to know?"

Umm, everything? Ridley gave me a sheepish look.

"That's a lot of information," I said, "a lot that I don't even know."

Then what do you know? Ridley asked anxiously. She swung her legs a bit and wrung her hands together.

"Well, would it help you to know that Edward knew your parents?"

Ridley's head snapped up and not unexpectedly, a ton of different emotions flashed across her face; surprise, knowing, shock, confusion. Even now, she was still an open book; so easily read.

How? Ridley demanded. How did he know them, and why did he never tell me?

'Careful here,' Scarecrow said, 'this might get ugly. What ever you do, keep her in here.'

'Do you think I don't know that?' I asked silently, subtly moving to block Ridley's path to the door.

She twisted around to follow my novements, waiting for an answer.

"Edward's a complicated person," I said, planing on how I was going to tell her this. "He most likely thought telling you nothing would protect you, or more likely, because he was selfish."

But I have a right to know! Ridley signed, movements becoming bigger; more wild. Why is he being selfish about it?

"Why is he?" I asked. "Did you know that Edward practically grew up around your family? He was hopelessly in love, or what he perceived as love. From a psychological standpoint, it was more of an idolizism than love. Or whatever twisted sense that 'love' is."

I said the last part a bit bitterly as I thought of the recent events. Certainly 'love' was a mere chemical (im)balance of the mind. Something only made people do stupid things and think irrationally. At least, that's how I was beginning to see it.

Who did he love then? Ridley asked, though I could see the gears working in her brain as she connected the dots. Don't tell me that— her eyes widened as the pieces fell into place for her.

"Yes," I said, probably a bit too gleeful at her obvious anguish, "Edward was in love with your mother."

XXX

Ridley's P.O.V.

"It's really an interesting bit of psychology," Jon said, not missing beat. Like what he'd just said didn't mean anything.

But it did. It did mean something. What the heck? My hands shook slightly and I had to take deep breaths to steady both them and my racing heart. Edward had been in love with my mother? Besides the weirdness factor of it, it was hard to wrap my head around. How old was he again? And how old was my mother at the time of her... death?

"Are you listening, Ridley?" Jon asked, breaking me out of my thoughts

I shook my head and he sighed.

"I said, that you shouldn't worry too much about it," Jon said, clearly not liking the fact that he had to repeat himself. "Sure it might sound a bit weird at first, but it's just a piece of Freudian psychology. Like the Oedipus complex, that seems more likely as Edward had a lacking—"

I don't care about the psychology behind it! I signed furiously, Just explain it. In simple terms!

"But it does help explain it!" Jon said, anger flashing in his eyes. "Just shut up and let me talk!"

I was too stunned by his words to do much else but stop. Just who did he think he was, telling me to shut up? It wasn't like I could actually talk. I glared at him and crossed my arms.

'Fine asshole, have it your way.'

"Don't give me that look," Jon hissed as he started to pace back and forth.

'Just shut up and talk if that's what you want.'

Jon scowled before continuing, "Like I was saying, the Oedipus Complex. That's basically where the son has a sexual desire for his mother. Now Edward's mother was as absent as his father was, so he just latched onto the next best thing, a mother like figure that was a big focal point in his life; your mother."

That's just sick! I signed, not willing to believe it. Psychoanalysis or not, this was just going a bit too far.

"Oh, it definitely is," Jon said gravely. "What makes it worse, Edward is eight years younger than your mother."

How the hell do you even know this? I signed, desperate for an answer that was any different from the one he was giving me. I didn't want to know about the weird relationship between Edward and my mother; a mother I didn't even remember.

"He told me of course," Jon said smugly, "Pillow talk does loosen ones tongue by quite a lot." He smirked.

I fought to keep my face neutral and disinterested, biting the inside of my mouth. It shouldn't have bothered me, what he said, but it did, and that just made things more confusing for myself.

Certainly if it bothered me, then that meant that I had some feelings for Edward, right? I mean, Edward and akin being together didn't bother me in that sense, but I'd be lying if it didn't in any other form. Jon was baiting me, freaking psychologist; preying on others weaknesses to get the desired effects. But crap, it was getting to me, no matter how hard I tried for it not to.

Jon's smirk widened and a look of triumph sparked in his eyes. I really wanted to punch or kick him right then, but that's exactly what he'd expect me to do, so I refrained.

Another part of this was bugging me and I wondered how many times Edward had looked at me and saw my mother. I inwardly shuddered at the sheer disturbance of the thought. I pondered though, how much did I look like my mother? I recalled the faint memory of the simulation Edward put me through, no, if that simulation was anything close to being true, then I looked nothing like her.

That brought me to antihero realization, that's why Edward had been so mad then, because I had seen my mother, even if I didn't know it was her at that time.

How, I paused to gather my thoughts, how did— What happened?

"Like how everything happens in those situations," Jon said carelessly, "nothing. Your mother didn't return Edward's feelings, thank god, and that's that. Of course, you may not remember it, but Edward was a good friend of your families regardless."

And just who was my mother? I demanded, not bothering to think about what he just said. My need to know who she was meant more to me than how I might've known Edward in the past.

"Why only the one person that Edward can't stand to hear the name of anymore," Jon said, stopping and meeting my gaze. "One grey eyes woman by the name of Anna Bradford."

###

Hello readers! How do you like me splitting up the chapter like this? I know it's a bit annoying with the cliff hangers, but I feel like splitting it up like this is rather interesting. I know that these chapters aren't as long as the ones where I previously split them up, but I feel like this also helps with the urgency and fast pacedness of the current situation.

What do you think about this? Leave your thoughts in the comments!? ﾟﾑﾇ?