"I mean--" Sonny glances over his shoulder at the closed door. "I woke up in a fountain. It already doesn't make a lot of sense."

That doesn't mean he's going to be prepared with what she has to tell him, though. Not in the slightest. The only reason he's not losing his shit entirely already is because he's focusing very hard on the present, and what he needs to do now. Which is get dry and warm up and sit down before he collapses or something else equally as embarrassing.

"I'm Sonny Carisi," he says, and his breath still feels a little cold and rattly in his chest. "Something warm to drink sounds great, thank you. Is there somewhere I can sit down?"