It isn't hope that shakes her from a sound sleep; from death. And it's not providence or grace, as much as I would like to say that it is. What gets her to the bathroom is gratitude for the knowledge that nothing means anything at all. What she vomits up is hope, and paralysis, and the comfort of a place where she can rot. Every Carrie she's hated and every Carrie she loves. It isn't panic, it's emptiness. It's preparation for what happens next, in the silence. It's a funeral for a girl who never really lived.
There are parts of you that live in the past. There are parts of you that live in the future; some of them beautiful and some of them terrifying. There are parts of you that live in other people, or among the dead, or in a different world's 9/11 where nothing special happened that day. There are parts of you that want to live up to your parents' expectations, or your handlers. There are parts of you that dwell their days in silent rooms, dreaming of Nick Brody and the infinite lives you could have had. There are parts of you that live in an unreachable future where science has relieved you of your disability and you can contain them all. Where these disparate parts of you all come together, in one beautiful girl who is absolutely on fire without purpose.
Rock bottom is the only safe place to stand; build there and nobody can ever knock it down again. It isn't hope that shakes her from a sound sleep, or grace or providence or anything particularly special. It's just Carrie. It always was.
AND IT'S SAUL
He knows her well enough to bash on the door until she wakes, swimming up from the depths into the light, and looks around herself. He knocks, and he knocks. He holds her, for a moment; he commiserates.
Saul: "I can only imagine how shitty Langley must have felt today."
Carrie: "You know, before Beirut I really thought I'd finally found a way to cope with being out of the Company."
Saul grins, proud; tells her to hold that thought. She shakes a little when he hands her the SD card; she can't imagine what could be on it that would have him so quietly pleased. That would have him here, interrupting her funeral.