When she woke up, she was lying on a cot in one of Primatech's holding cells. Hank was there checking her IV, and after a round of intense questioning she found out that Gabriel was back in his old cell, only this time hooked up to a glycimerine drip. "He was getting violent," Hank explained. "He attacked the Haitian and tried to use his telekinesis to break in here, so we had to sedate him; we didn't have a choice."
"He tried to rescue me?" Eden asked, but Hank wouldn't answer.
After Hank cleared her medically, Eden went to look for Bennet. She found him standing in the interrogation room, shuffling files into a briefcase.
"I need to talk to you," Eden said. "Sylar doesn't want to kill anymore; I think we can help him."
"Is that right?" Bennet asked. "And what makes you say that?"
"I've spent time with him," Eden said. "I really think he wants to change. And not only that, he trusts me. If he gets the urge to kill again, I can tell him to stop," she said.
"Well, there's a problem with that. You're not going to be here," Bennet said. "How is your Japanese?"
"What?"
"Your Japanese," Bennet repeated. He snapped the briefcase shut. "Have you been keeping up with your language studies?"
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?" Eden asked.
Bennet sat down behind the desk.
"You're being sent to Tokyo," Bennet said. "You'll have a new name and a new identity, and you're going to break contact with everyone who knew you as Eden McCain. That's including me," Bennet said.
Eden's stomach sank. "Why?"
"You broke the rules," he said. "You disobeyed a direct order. You're lucky you were just reassigned."
"But Odessa is my home. You can't do that!" Eden said.
"My superiors wanted to take you to the Haitian and throw you back on the streets, but I convinced them otherwise," Bennet said. "You should be grateful you're getting a second chance."
"What about Gabriel?" she asked. "What about him?"
"That's something I want to talk to you about," Bennet said. "Eden, sit down." He made a motion toward the chair opposite the desk.
"We decided, given the circumstances, that it would be best for all parties involved if Sylar had his memories of the past few weeks erased. Unfortunately, he seems to be resisting the Haitian, so we need you to do it," Bennet said.
"I don't understand," Eden said.
"Before you leave, we need you to talk to Sylar. You're going to give him new memories, starting from when he pulled you through the window. You're going to tell him that when he threatened to take your ability, you shot yourself to keep that from happening. Then I want you to tell him we got there and subdued him before he could escape," Bennet said.
"You want me to tell him I killed myself," Eden said. "You want him to think I'm dead."
Bennet spread his hands. "I'd rather you not be the one to do this, but I don't have a choice," he said.
"But why do you want to take his memory? That doesn't make sense," Eden said.
"You don't want a man like that obsessed with you," Bennet said. "And let's not forget, he threatened to take your ability. It's for your own protection."
"Gabriel wouldn't hurt me," Eden said.
"Gabriel was the one who killed Brian Davis. Or have you forgotten that?" Bennet asked.
"And how many people have I killed? Do you think I'm dangerous?" Eden asked. "Gabriel never hurt me, he doesn't even want to kill anymore. I mean, Jesus, you were the ones who shot me!" She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. "We can help him. You helped me, right? And you helped Isaac get clean. So why can't you help him, too?"
"Helping Isaac served a purpose. Sylar's ability isn't of any use to us," Bennet said.
"Intuitive Aptitude isn't 'of use' to you?" Eden stared at him. "I thought you cared about us, but I was wrong. You only want us for our abilities."
"Listen to yourself, you're confusing me with Sylar," Bennet said. "I can't even begin to imagine what he's put you through, but clearly it's affected your judgment."
"Well what about Isaac?" Eden asked. "What about him? He worked so hard to get sober again, and you just threw it away."
"Eden-"
"You're not protecting me because you care, you're protecting me because I wouldn't be 'of use' to you if I'm dead!"
"Eden!"
"I won't do it!" Eden said. "Gabriel's the only person who cares about me, and now he's locked up with a fucking shunt in his head. You want me to help you? Send me to fucking Tokyo, I don't give a shit. You're not making me."
"Fine, do whatever you want," Bennet said. "Just realize, if you don't do this, I send the Haitian over here for a visit. I'll leave it up to you."
There was a tense silence. Both of them had gotten up out of their chairs and were shouting at each other, but now Eden was shaken. It was a job that needed to get done, and no matter what happened, Gabriel would lose his memory and she would be alone. Bennet was right: it would be easier to forget. But then she remembered the look in Gabriel's eyes the night she cut his hand, and she couldn't bear the thought of hating him again.
Bennet looked at her evenly. "You really care about him, don't you?" he asked.
Eden stared at the ground. "He's the only one who's ever understood me," she said, softly.
Bennet shook his head. "He understands everyone. It's the intuitive aptitude," he said, but the comment was cruel and it hurt her feelings, and Eden felt her face start to crumble.
"Eden, don't cry." Bennet got up from across the table and sat down beside her. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so cold. But it's worse than I thought and I don't know what to do." He touched her arm.
"Do you know what Stockholm syndrome is?" Bennet asked.
Eden shook her head.
"It's a defense mechanism," Bennet said, gently. "The victim forms an unnatural attachment to her captor, and I think that's what happened here. Eden, honey, you're confused. And with what he's done to you I don't blame you."
He put his hand on her shoulder. "I didn't want to have to do this, but other than seeing the Haitian I don't know of any other way."
He pulled out a thick manila envelop from his briefcase and set it on the table.
"Open it," Bennet said.
Eden took the envelop in her hands and opened it. Inside were crime scene photos. Eden looked up at him, confused.
"I know about his victims already, why are you showing me this?" Eden asked.
Bennet ignored her. He took the stack from her and held up a photograph. A waitress was lying sprawled out on the floor, a pool of blood collecting around her face.
"See this girl?" he asked. "Her name was Charlie Andrews. She worked at a diner in Midland. She's the reason why Sylar is able to resist the Haitian right now."
He held up another photograph. A cheerleader on the ground, a large gash across the top of her forehead; her hair was blonde and sticky with blood.
"This is Jackie Wilcox, Sylar's last victim," Bennet said. "15 years old, co-captain of the cheerleading squad. She didn't even have an ability."
He held up a third photograph: a man sitting at a table, covered in ice, and a woman crucified against a wall.
"These are Molly Walker's parents," he said. "This is Mr. Walker, he's the one frozen to death. This is Mrs. Walker. She's the one nailed against the stairwell. It's a miracle their little girl made it out alive."
"I don't want to see anymore," Eden said, but Bennet shook his head.
"I have one more picture to show you," Bennet said, and Eden moaned, putting her head in her hands.
He set the photograph on the table. Eden turned her head away.
"Look at it," Bennet said. He pushed it under her hands. "Look at it," he repeated.
Eden looked down. It was a photograph of a taxi; streaks of blood were on the driver's side window, and a man was hunched forward on the steering wheel. His face was bludgeoned so badly it didn't look like a face at all, just a raw, bloodied stump spurting blood onto the dashboard.
"You probably don't recognize him, but that's Chandra Suresh," Bennet said, quietly. Eden closed her eyes, tears spilling over.
"Can you really be with someone who did this?" Bennet asked. "You loved Dr. Suresh, he was like a father to you. And look at what Sylar did. He was probably as close to him as you were, and he killed him. Just like that. Who's to say he wouldn't do the same thing to you?"
Bennet pulled the photograph out from under her hands and carefully slid it back into his briefcase.
"I know it's hard, but I don't want to see you get hurt," Bennet said. "Believe me, there's nothing more I want to do than take you to the Haitian and make it go away. But I respect you too much to do that. You deserve so much better than him, Eden. Trust me. You deserve better." And maybe it was the way Bennet leaned toward her, or the quiet sincerity in his voice, but suddenly Eden was overwhelmed by a feeling she couldn't describe. It was as if he was speaking not to her but to Claire, his Claire, and suddenly something inside her broke, and there was no one there to fix it.
Bennet crouched down beside her, looking at her eye-level.
"Eden, listen to me, it'll be okay. I will always be there for you—maybe not in an official capacity, but certainly as a friend. And when you're in Tokyo you feel free to call me anytime you're homesick. Okay?"
Bennet put his hands on both her shoulders and bent down, looking her in the eyes. "Okay?"
Eden nodded, dully. "Okay," she said.
They entered Sylar's cell. Sylar was curled up on the cot, his knees drawn to his chest. He was pale with dark circles around his eyes, but it was the tremors in his arms and legs that made her want to cry. She knelt beside him, trying not to notice how chapped his lips were or the ragged breaths he took, more like spasms than actual breathing.
Bennet placed a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want me to get the Haitian?" Bennet asked, gently.
Eden shook her head. "I don't want that man touching me," she said.
"Good girl," Bennet said.
Eden took a breath. "Can I have a minute?" she asked.
Bennet nodded. "I'll let you say goodbye," he said, and he stepped out of the room.
It was just the two of them, now. Eden lightly touched Gabriel's forehead, and when she did so his eyes slowly opened. She could see him struggling to focus on her face, and she gently cupped his head in her hands.
"Shh," she said, and she kissed him softly. "Shh, it's okay."
He was breathing heavily, and with great difficulty, he moved his hand to touch her cheek. She clasped his hand into hers and held it against her chest.
"I love you," she said, and he smiled before closing his eyes.
She looked at Bennet. He was standing behind the glass, watching her.
"Gabriel," she said. "This is what you're going to remember.