Who: Eden and Mama Petrelli
What: An intervention
When: September 17, Monday Status: Finished
Whatever. The point was things were great between Mohinder and Eden and they had just finished watching trash tv in a no longer trashy apartment. But their time was cut short when Mohinder realized he needed to get something vital from the store (what he wouldn’t tell).
She didn’t care. She was happy.
She unlocked the door, with a little difficulty since she was too excited, and with the swing of the door presented a scene she didn’t expect to see.
How fast her mood could change.
“Sarah Ellis? It’s so wonderful to see you again. You don’t remember me, we’ve made sure of that, but unfortunately for us, the time to keep secrets is over. Please, sit down.”
Shit, it’s the head Petrelli.
You want to go home and go to sleep.
“No, honey. I won’t be going to sleep until we have a talk. Please, sit down here, and we’ll have a nice little chat about our future together. Does that sound fair?”
“Good. Here’s the thing…
Mrs. Petrelli leaned in and allowed a smile to reveal itself.
“Mrs. Petrelli, what exactly are you saving the world from?”
“Oh, but you already know. You take his orders everyday.”
“We rehabilitate. That’s it.”
Something clouded over in Mrs. Petrelli’s eyes.
Her eyes seemed to clear once more, a smirk catching her eyebrows before they fell back into her face.
“By the way, I believe you’re not singular in this world anymore.”
Things were starting to get confusing for
“Is that a threat?” But she no longer said it in the cool, collective manner that she was trained. Her body was rigid, but her eyes showed the crumbling down of her trust, her belief in what was going on, and the beginning of fear.
“Your boss was trying to find Peter’s power,
“Mrs. Petrelli, what future are you talking about? All I know is we gather others, tag them for their protection and take care of them as needed. As you probably know, we are alone in this world genetically. And if there is something about what I am doing that is not to that direction that I don’t know about, now’s the time to spill.”
“The future is not predictable in any way we know. All we can do is join with those who agree that whatever tomorrow we receive, it is only for the betterment of mankind. Wake up,
Mrs. Petrelli allowed for a moment to pass, the words perhaps taking more time to fill the heavy tension between them.
“Mr. Bennet is a good man, Eden. Don’t ever misunderstand me. But he is not the man you take orders from. He is merely the one who gives you them to follow.”
“Then who does Bennet work for? Question one. Question two; why are you working against Bennet or whoever the hell he takes orders for? Question three…”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Mr. Bennet works for the Company. Surely you know that. I work for myself, Eden. I think it’s time you learn how to work for yourself too. I think, perhaps, you might need to see reason a little differently.”
In that moment, Mrs. Petrelli stood and turned towards the kitchen. She appeared to motion to the darkness beyond, where slowly, a figure approached. The Haitian.
“What the hell?”
“So Mrs. Petrelli, it seems that the Company is keeping something from its ‘special’ employees. What is it?”
Let her know. Let her just tell me.
“I can’t tell you these things,
Question three, three people in this room…Eden looked from eye to eye.
“Mrs. Petrelli I…”
This was a shock, and she sat down. And instead of feeling comforted by the two people in the room, a trapped feeling started to happen.
“I…I’ve been taking orders…”
She’s not going to hurt the people I love, though the fear is still ringing inside me.
“I’m…sorry. I…think I’m in shock.”
“It’s okay. But you know what you have to do now.”
Mrs. Petrelli let herself get closer, until she was but ear to ear to
“There are things unimaginable to me, much less to you, you poor girl. Ask first and then you will be able to see the horrors that wait for us if we do not stop them in time. When you’re ready, contact him. The Haitian will know what to do. I have to go now, my dear girl, but don’t delay. We are already late, and cannot lose more time.”
Mrs. Petrelli gave her a smile, saddened by the truth it kept, and turned back to the door. The Haitian did not budge. Mrs. Petrelli hesitated before opening the door.
The door closed as quickly as it opened.
She walked up to the Haitian.
“Only when I need to.”
She went to her bedroom, grabbed a small ring box and grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note.
My loyalty lies with my kind. Mr. Bennet is my crutch, but I think it is time to walk on my own two feet. Be patient.
She came back in the living room, and placed the box in the Haitian’s hand.
“For Mrs. Petrelli…and thank you.”