Everything about this house (it's so big, can they really get away with calling it a house?) holds a bad memory that she remembers - clearly, some days, hazily others - destroying. And when you explode a place out of existence to make it go away, going back to it gets a lot harder.
She sleeps through most of it: Five bringing their brother back from wherever he was, the first reunions. It's par for the course, isn't? But when she wakes - not in the hole that Luther put her in, that gray room that she would rather die or kill than see again - in her old bedroom, V has no idea for a moment where or when they are. She wanders through the house, treating the whole thing like an hallucination. What else could it possibly be?
And when she sees Ben, it feels like the world tilts abruptly to the left.
"Ben?" Is she dead? Dreaming? She digs her nails into her palm to see if she will wake, but no - he's still there.
post apocalypse
Everything about this house (it's so big, can they really get away with calling it a house?) holds a bad memory that she remembers - clearly, some days, hazily others - destroying. And when you explode a place out of existence to make it go away, going back to it gets a lot harder.
She sleeps through most of it: Five bringing their brother back from wherever he was, the first reunions. It's par for the course, isn't? But when she wakes - not in the hole that Luther put her in, that gray room that she would rather die or kill than see again - in her old bedroom, V has no idea for a moment where or when they are. She wanders through the house, treating the whole thing like an hallucination. What else could it possibly be?
And when she sees Ben, it feels like the world tilts abruptly to the left.
"Ben?" Is she dead? Dreaming? She digs her nails into her palm to see if she will wake, but no - he's still there.