(no subject)
The room is jarringly innocuous-looking, if not sounding, lulling Mohinder into a false sense of security for a few seconds--but still, there are things over there, screeching things, and as much as Mohinder likes babies under ordinary circumstances, he can't imagine that that's what those things really are.
"Eden!" She's running over there without protection; she has to have protection, they always do in this place. He chases after her, trying to stop her before she reaches the source of the shrieking, whatever the hell it is. He grabs her arm, dragging them both off-balance; he collapses on his injured wrist and gasps with pain, the thump of their bodies and his muffled curse drowning out the rapidly-approaching sound of something dragging itself across the bubblegum-pink carpet towards their heads.