[He remembers how he felt, then. It might as well be then, the horrifying, abrupt feeling of nothing under his feet and of needing Connor - wanting him, even - to help. His arm stretches out, slow, tentative. Before it gets there he hesitates, watching Connor's arm like it's about to bite him. When he grabs on he doesn't grab tight, can't really bear to and shudders as he does it. But he does it.]

Fair warning, uh, I think- I think I'm gonna be sick.

We're not, uh. We're not on a roof, are we? Or in hell. [He raises a hand to press again against his temple and starts slowly tilting to one side, without really realizing he's doing it.] I think, I think I was in... I was just trying to find a kitchen.