The noise is enough that Foggy isn't sure what happened to his lock, but is fairly certain he won't be salvaging any of its parts. Still, there's a sense of something familiar tingling in the back of his head, a part of him that wonders how she seems so confident in the dark when all he can do with his still-decent twenty-twenty is fumble around.

"It sounds like this isn't your first set of weird circumstances," he says, and then frowns at himself. It's not something he'd usually say, but there's no denying that Laura's detachment from the obvious terror surrounding this blackout is worth noting.

Arms out, he seeks the opposite wall with his hands and then feels his way to the door frame, then open door. Inside, he's a little more certain, although he does kick right into the small box of cans a whole two feet before he expects to.

"Can you— see in all this? With the blackout?" Talk about freaky circumstances. He's reminded of Daredevil, how nothing about this situation would have fazed the vigilante because he never needed the light in order to understand his surroundings. "Do you... maybe want to look at what's here? Because it's not all beans," he explains. Foggy would rather someone who can tell what's on the labels choose their meal for the night, lest they open four cans of something neither of them want.