"I wouldn't dream of it." Her voice sounds young. That much Matt knows for certain, even if the rest of his surroundings are a complete mystery. He's so used to his senses firing off a million clues a second that without that constant overwhelm of stimuli, the world that surrounds him feels flat and confusing and more than just a little bit unreal. He can't hear her heartbeat, though the strained tension in her voice is plainly obvious. He can't even get a read on how wide the room is or what might lie beyond the walls.

But hey, there's another bed to his left. Matt turns a small circle to face the young voice and takes a few steps with an outstretched hand to confirm that. The bits of ceramic from the shattered lamp crunch under his shoes, but he ignores that and grips the bedspread under his fingers when he finds it. It feels virtually identical to the bed he just woke up from. "Yours, I presume?" That encourages more questions than it answers, unfortunately.

"Did you just have a really strange dream?"