He's standing. Not held down. They're on a bridge, the sound of water in his ears. It's incredibly disorienting (he can almost taste blood in his mouth, the salt of sweat, he's rattled and hollow and exhausted), but there's Caroline.

"We're..." He looks around then, looks around properly, and realization of where they are and what's happening rolling over him in a wave of relief so powerful he sags against the railing of the bridge. "Oh."

For a second that's all he can say. Poe wipes his forehead with one wrist, trying to pull himself together. He inspects his wrist, expecting to find blood smeared across it, but there's nothing. "You shouldn't've had to see that."