"Is she coming around?"
"Fallon." Someone snaps. I feel it inches from my face, just above my nose. "Fallon - you with us?"
"Give her a moment."
"Fallon." Another snap.
My eyes pop open.
Reid is here. Reid and Able and Pratt and the others. Their faces hang over mine, all pressed together and frowning down with concern. Beyond them is a wooden ceiling. Familiar golden veins travel through the thick dark bark, rays of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the wood and holes in the corners. I'm not outside. I'm inside, in someone's home. Mine? Sampson's?
Reid leans in. "Can you hear me?"
I manage a nod.
"I'm going to sit you up, okay?"