The voice comes at him like he's underwater, sound all distant and distorted. Martin tries to answer it, but manages only a soft moan, muffled against the floor. Christ, he's lucky he didn't have his glasses on. He swallows, for a moment worried he's about to be sick, and then things settle a bit. He tries again.

"I... yeah." He grimaces and pushes his hands beneath him, bracing against the floor to try and lever himself up. He does manage it, though it feels so much harder than it ought to. His body feels so heavy. He blinks until his vision clears, and looks at the young woman who's spoken, sitting on the floor and watching him intently.

"Hi," he says belatedly. With a grunt of effort, he reorients himself so he can lean back against the shelf he'd upset. "S-sorry. I just - I just need a minute."