Alright, alright. Table bad, steer clear of the table. And I don't know, maybe a few hours? I was still trying to get my bearings when I found you.

[Every new word that comes out of Jon's mouth sends a new icy drop of dread straight into the pit of her stomach. She can answer Jon's questions without conplaint, that's not an issue. It's when her own questions start bubbling to the surface that the fear starts to kick in.]

...how long is a "very long time", Jon?