This is not, honestly, John's first time being interrogated. He's been arrested before, for one thing, and he's had more than his fair share of social workers breathing down his neck. He's also had guns pointed at him far more often than he'd like, and thus, nothing about this situation makes him panic.

It does piss him off, though. For once, absolutely nothing about this is his fault. He'd like to stop being treated like it is.

He sits looking at the captain, head held high, expression unreadable. He'd checked the exits when he was brought in, though, and noted how many other officers were around. He hadn't done it consciously, but he'd done it.

"Look, I have nothing to say," he says, lifting his brows. "I don't know how I got here, it wasn't deliberate, and I don't know anyone here. So whatever it is you want, you have the wrong guy."