His head was swimming, but the cool metal of the tabletop helped. Slowly, the room stopped spinning and he found he could breath. Just when some of his panic had begun to recede, the opening of the world shattered his tentative calm. He sat bolt upright, gasping.<br/><br/>His vision was blurry with a combination of intoxication, and hangover as he made the transition from one to the other. There was a woman standing in the doorway. He couldn't focus as well as he would like, but he thought she was peering at him. She sat at the table across from him, and just stared at him.<br/><br/>This was fine with him. The silence helped. He watched her study him, and failed to feel uncomfortable about it as he would have if he were healthy and sober. The gaze she gave him wasn't the look of a cop. Her eyes were not those of a woman seeking to ferret out a lie... they were looking for answers. She looked at him like a predator, assessing another predator. It was a strange moment for him, but somehow, he knew the feeling was correct.<br/><br/>"Folson... Landon Folson, Ma'am. I didn't do nothing, but they wont let me out of here. Are you here to help me? I really need to get out of here. I already answered all their questions several times. I don't know anything else."