Delilah stepped off of the bus and inhaled the smell of the city. It was good to get out of the facility now and again. Although she was able to walk the town on her days off, she was never allowed to leave the city and she had to return by a certain time. And thus far, she'd never failed to do so. She was looking forward to wandering around for a while, especially after her dream last night. She had experienced bizarre, vivid dreams before, but they were never as clear or prominent as the ones she'd been having recently. Maybe she was looking too deeply into her patient and her mind was working overtime.

She entered the usual coffee shop she visited on her days off.

The waiter smiled and nodded towards her. "The usual? Caramel Macchiato with extra whipped cream?"

She smiled in return. "Thank you."

The man turned his back to her and began his work.

Delilah took a seat next to the shop's window. Someone had left a newspaper on the table, she began to flick through it. The front of the paper showed a picture of a well dressed cop from the GCPD, the article named him as detective Jim Gordon. She felt something in her gut turn uncomfortably. Her face contorted into confusion at this feeling. She ignored the rest of the article and her eyes held on the photograph of the detective. "Jim Gordon..." She muttered to herself. "Why are you familiar?" she asked the printed ink.

"Another success story." The waiter set the cup in front of her. "He's always in the paper nowadays, along with his partner, of course. Ah, what was his name? Bus Stop or something like that?" The elderly lady beside Delilah cleared her throat. "Bullock." she corrected him. "Yeah, that guy!" he smiled at her then turned back to Delilah. "Seems Gotham is finally cleaning its act up. It won't last though, never does." He walked away.

She looked down at the paper as she set it down next to her coffee. She picked up the cup and took a small sip of the hot liquid. "Gordon," she muttered again. She ran her fingers across the image. "You know him, don't you?"

"Know who, dear?"

Delilah looked over to the elderly lady again. "Oh, just talking to myself."

"The first sign of madness that is, dear."

"So I heard."

"Mind you, I'd talk to a picture of a handsome young man like that!" she winked.

The bell on the door rang as an elderly man entered the shop. He walked over and kissed the woman on the cheek.

Delilah's eyes were still set on the door. She looked through the glass and her eyes lay on a window of an apartment.

"Hey doll..."

The whisper from her dream repeated itself in her mind.

"Miss?"

She shook herself from her trance to see the waiter standing beside her.

"Anything else for you today?"

"Err, no thanks. Here." She rummaged through her bag and placed a few coins in the man's hand. "Thanks." She walked towards the door and pulled it open. The sound of the city hit her as she took a step outside. Her eyes were still fixed on the apartment window. She crossed the street, dodging the cars and came closer to the building. She spotted someone coming out. She ran to them and caught the door before it shut. Before her was a small room with a staircase to her right. She began to climb them. She arrived at the top floor of the building. She stood before a mahogany door. With a slight pause, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

No answer.

She tried the handle, it was locked.

"What am I doing?" she sighed to herself, shaking her head as she turned her back to the door.

Just then, she heard a small metallic sound.

She looked over her shoulder to see a silver key on the floor. She walked over to it and knelt down to pick it up. Running her finger over the number engraved on it, she looked up at the door again. It had the same number as the key. Taking a quick look around, she quickly determined she was the only one on that floor. Without a second thought, she placed the key in the lock and turned it. Click.

She tried the handle again and this time, the door creaked open. Her nose wrinkled of its own accord when the smell of cigarettes hit her. She took a single step inside and closed the door behind her. She took a moment to absorb her surroundings. It took her a minute to realize that this had been the same apartment as the one in her nightmarish dream. "Jerome is this..." she whispered to herself. "Is this...your home?" she took another step and heard something move beneath her feet. She looked down to see a photograph. She knelt down and took a closer look at it.

The worn photograph was ripped at nearly every angle. A woman stood with a snake wrapped around her arms and neck.

"Lila Valeska?" she picked the photograph up and was hit with an overwhelming feeling of panic. An image shot into her mind.

She was cowering in a corner.

The woman in the picture stood above her shouting profanities. She held a bottle of alcohol in her hand, the free hand lunged towards her.

Delilah opened her eyes. "Oh. So that's why you killed her," She had dropped the photograph but quickly picked it up again when she noticed something lying beneath it, something she didn't see before: a pack of cigarettes. She opened them and inhaled lightly, noticing they were the same ones from the dream. She shoved them with the picture into her coat pocket and took one more look around before she left, locking the door tightly behind her.

Delilah walked as fast as she could to the bus stop. She had another twenty minutes until her bus back, but she needed to get out of that apartment. She had felt anger like that before, it had only brought back unwanted memories. Right now, she wanted to get out of there as soon as she could.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Her feet paused at the voice. She turned to see a smartly dressed man holding the packet of cigarettes in his hand.

"You dropped these," he smiled.

She looked at his face and quickly recognized it. "You're...Jim Gordon?"

The man chuckled. "I'm becoming quite the celebrity, aren't I? Here," he said as he held out the pack of cigarettes she'd just put in her bag towards her. "You know you should quit. Not good for your health."

Delilah placed her hand on the cigarettes and brushed the man's fingertip. The anger returned to her.

She felt something tight around her throat and her mind's eyes showed her on the floor with Gordon above her, his hand on her throat. Shaking her head, she took the cigarettes from him, forcing a smile of her own. "Thanks. I'll try.." She turned on her heels as quickly as she could and walked away.