He startles, and would have stumbled back if he weren't already pressed as flat against the glass as possible. Tim eyes the man opposite him warily.

He looks about the same as everyone else in this weird city - underwater, why did it have to be underwater - though a bit on the pale side. The stench of alcohol and the mumble to the words is unmistakable.

"I'm, uh," says Tim, running a shaky hand through his hair as he tries to plaster on some kind of composure when he can't stop shivering from the wet and cold and encroaching panic. "I'm just - lost, I think. I think."

He swallows hard and tries to look the other man in the eyes. "Do you, um, do you know - where I am, exactly?"

Whether he's asking to know in the vague or the specific sense, he can't really say. He doubts either will help.