[ He's startled when she grabs his hands and freezes, staring at her with wide eyes. No empathy link is nice, but it's also a little unnerving, as he's associated certain faces with that now. He's frayed at the edges and stuck in the place he was here, in this mini-hell of his. Quentin takes in a deep shuttering breath and lets it out, still trembling and so pale he looks close to passing out. ]

There are two possible delusions. One is that magic and Fillory and New Amsterdam, it's all in my head, something I made up to feel important. The other is that I'm stuck in a hallucination making me think I'm deluding myself. [ He breathes, closing his eyes. ] I still don't know which one it is.