John led the way out of the stairwell into the hallway, shouldering the door open if only to have something to momentarily lean on. The door he'd seen with a sign which read Staff Only that wasn't a housekeeper's closet wasn't far.

"Maybe... Maybe brace yourself against the far wall of it? Doubt that'll steady your hands, but if you're stable with your body, you can aim better? At least that's how it works with guns." He'd had a few questionable choices when it came to getting into firefights while blind drunk.

But soon enough, they were at the door, and John had himself against said opposite wall, looking at the door like it was an ancient puzzle he wished to solve. "Let's see what's in this gift wrapped pile of bullshit, John Constantine."