But it's okay until the voice. Until the nurse calls the other ones over, to look at the detail and the glue, the joists and the magnificent detail. If she had markers, she'd cover it in colors. A code only Saul can read.
In the bathroom, the voices are loud. She bashes her head against the glass, once, like the sky.
The woman who comes to her then, on that sound like the ringing of a bell, is named Abby. She could be named Esme; in another life she might be. What Abby doesn't know is that Carrie shares a certain thing with Nick Brody; the ability to bond so strongly with a person that they'll ignore their better interests.
Abby: "What is going on right now?"
Carrie: "I needed a minute."
Abby: "Then why are you bleeding?"
Carrie: "That was the minute I needed."
She breaks down, appealing to Abby's maternal instincts; she has the stink of social worker all over her. Just you and me, she signals; just you and me against the world, Abby. It's a language only the two of us know.
This is how you recruit an asset; this is how you make a terrorist. We are all powerless before gravity, before death, but you could be the exception.
Abby: "Honey, if you're hurting yourself I need to know."
Carrie: "It's not me doing it. It was a bad moment. I am compliant. Meds and group and little gluestick cabins. Thanks to you."
Abby: "That's it? That's all?"
Carrie: "Just please don't tell. It's just you and me."
In a hoodie to hide his face, in a language only the two of them speak, Esme gets him out of the building. Out of the shadows and into the streets.
Dr. Graham always leaves the medicine just out of reach. It's there, freedom. You could taste it.
Abby: "Just promise this won't happen again? Let me stitch you up and let that be the end of it."
Carrie: "I promise, I promise. I won't tempt fate again."
Abby: "It's not like you're forgotten. This isn't the last way-station. In fact somebody's already come looking for you."
Carrie: "It'll be Saul. It rings like a bell. Is he here now?"
Abby: "I don't know, but we don't tell them anything. We're not allowed."
Carrie: "The next time he comes, help me. Be my friend. It's the last favor I'll ever ask."
It's the last favor I'll ever need.
Every sound she heard, down under the ground, was the chance of rescue. Every footfall belonged to a savior. And every time it wasn't, every time she was mistaken, Antigone felt gravity pulling down, all the harder.