[She happens to spy his six feet of curly hair rising above the jumble of groaning bodies at the hotel, like bedraggled Godzilla rising from the deep (and that's a comparison she forbids her brain ever make again, after the Titanic insanity). That's more or less how they end up making the trek across town together.
She supposes... they're headed to the same place. The same home. It somehow feels more surreal than being back in Deerington, and that already feels a bit like one of her sleepwalking stints. She hasn't lived in the house on Howard Hill in a while.
And it's not her home. It was never that. She's untethered to any one person or place now; proof she doesn't have a home in any world.]
It's weird to be back.
[The townspeople's strangely friendly behavior on the bus ride back poses a distraction sufficient enough to keep small talk to a minimum, even if either of them were inclined to it. It isn't until they cross the bridge on foot in sight of their old street that she voices the reservation bubbling up in the back of her head.]
also gently puts this here for the post-Rapture return
She supposes... they're headed to the same place. The same home. It somehow feels more surreal than being back in Deerington, and that already feels a bit like one of her sleepwalking stints. She hasn't lived in the house on Howard Hill in a while.
And it's not her home. It was never that. She's untethered to any one person or place now; proof she doesn't have a home in any world.]
It's weird to be back.
[The townspeople's strangely friendly behavior on the bus ride back poses a distraction sufficient enough to keep small talk to a minimum, even if either of them were inclined to it. It isn't until they cross the bridge on foot in sight of their old street that she voices the reservation bubbling up in the back of her head.]