He gives her a long, puzzled look, staying where he is but not looming anymore, simply there and rubbing the side of his head in deep confusion.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he did something. Somewhere in those missing moments, something happened.

The taste of adrenaline in his mouth goes bitter, and he blinks again, slowly easing back away from her. Still holding his head, though his vision is clear again and the ringing in his ears is subsiding. He can hear the crowd again, the music and chatter of the festivities, and he can feel the ground under his feet again. That's something, at least.

"I'm sorry...I was in the mirror house, and then..." he looks helplessly at her, trying to fill in the blanks. No matter how much he guesses he's not going to like it.