"This is Doctor Delilah Smith speaking. The date is the seventh of November 2019. I am situated in lab 306 with patient 826. The patient's heart rate is now being closely monitored. Although the heartbeat is weak, I'm happy with his progress." She pressed the button on the record again and set it down next to her paperwork. "So," she began as she placed the end of the stethoscope on his chest, "I met Jim Gordon yesterday. What's up with you two?" she looked up at his face. "Any more enemies I should be aware of?"

No reply.

She sighed. "Fine, don't answer." She picked up the photograph from her papers and held it above his face. "So this is Mommy?" She turned the picture to look at it. "I can see where you get your looks from. But the hair? What's up with that?" she looked at his hair and ran two fingers through it. "I knew genetics could be fascinating, but this is something else."

Jerome's heartbeat was very faint but regular.

"I got your cigarettes by the way," she said, placing the picture back into the paperwork. "Gordon said you should quit." She crossed her arms and leaned on the metal bed. "I bet you're dying for one right now. Get it? Dying for one?" No reply.

"I thought you liked jokes? Or do you only like your own?" she looked down at his motionless face. "I'll take that as a yes."

The door clicked as Delilah turned the key to lock it. She returned to Jerome and placed a hand next to his head. "Why are you showing me these things? What do you want?" she whisper-yelled.

She was then surprised into silence by a slight sound. From him.

Delilah paused her questions and looked down at his lips, trying to catch them moving. "Did you..." she pulled her hair back to her other shoulder and moved her face closer to his, trying to listen for another sound.

And then came yet another sound.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and moved it inches away from his mouth. She heard a slight hum come from his lips.

She placed her hand on his cheek and moved her ear even closer.

Jerome took a breath.

Delilah pinned the photograph of the snake dancer on her pinboard and took a step back. She admired the mixture of pictures, articles and handwritten notes she had gathered. She crossed her arms and sighed in slight resignation. "You're a strange one, Jerome."

"Why'd you kill your mother Jerome?"

The walls were blank concrete, a light hung from the ceiling in the centre of the table. On one side sat Jim Gordon, both hands lying flat on the surface in front of him. Opposite him sat a ginger figure with tearful eyes. The light between them flickered. Once it steadied, Gordon was gone.

Only Jerome sat at the table, a smile upon his face. "Have a seat," he grinned.

Delilah cautiously moved towards the empty chair and sat down, her eyes watching Jerome like a hawk.

"May I?" he held out his hand.

Delilah felt the cigarettes materialize in her hand. She pulled one out and laid it on the table. She watched as his pale fingers picked it up and placed it in his lips. With a flick of a lighter he'd seemingly produced from thin air, he took a deep inhale and let out a contented sigh. "That's the spot. Oh, nice name by the way. Delilah Smith. Rolls off the tongue nicely." Delilah frowned. "I'd prefer Lilah." She told him. Jerome raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to understand why I can't call you that." He nodded his head to the far left of the table where a picture of his mother had been left.

"Oh."

He shrugged. "I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement on a name for you."

"Why are you showing me this?" Delilah finally asked. He looked at her, the edges of his lips curving upwards ever so slightly. "You're my private doctor, right?" She hesitantly nodded. "Well...yes." He threw his hands up in the air. "There ya go then!"

She looked around. It was clear it was only her and her patient in the room.

"Alright, truth be told doll, you intrigue me. You're not like the other quacks in this place, even you know that."

She crossed her arms. "Firstly, not digging the nickname." When she paused, waiting for a response, Jerome simply put his hands up in a surrendering motion.

"Secondly, because I have visions?"

He didn't skip a beat.

"That's one reason."

He shrugged. "Another is you actually give a damn about people here. You treat them like humans, not like the others."

"I treat them the way I would like to be treated."

"Speaking of being treated..." he stretched his arm and rubbed it a little, "Arm could do with a bit more of a massage. I've had this horrible cramp for the past day or so. Could you?" he asked with a sweet smile.

"You took a breath earlier. Was that involuntary, or were you trying to talk to me?"

"Nothing is involuntary with me, sweets." He took another pull on his cigarette. "Oh, whilst you're here, may I ask for a favor?"

"Depends what it is."

"Go look in lab 604 for me."

"604? What's in there?"

"You got access to it, go see for yourself. You want to learn about me? 604. Now if you excuse me," he stood from his chair, "I got a heart monitor to get back to!" he turned to leave, then paused. "Oh! I almost forgot!" he quickly returned to the table and leaned over it until he was uncomfortably close to Delilah's face. "Wake up!"