Play with Fire

Chapter 4

"So, matricide?" Delilah opened one of his eyelids with a finger and shone a light into his eye. "What did Mommy do that was so bad?" she let go of the eyelid, straightening up and crossing her arms. "Not much of a talker, are you?" she made a note of her observations. "Well, what you lack in speech, you sure do make up with dreams. Is that your doing or am I finally cracking?" She waited for an answer, but soon went back to her one sided conversation. "I've heard people sometimes have dreams about a book or a film they've recently seen. But I'm pretty sure my research wouldn't result in me getting nightmares about you every night," she informed him. She reached up and replaced the drip which stood next to the table, then looked back at him. "Hey, don't feel too bad about them. They aren't that bad."

Delilah flicked through the file and ate her dinner. She had pulled out her research on matricide in an effort to determine Jerome's motives. The medical records from Arkham had made a note that during the initial assessment. He had mentioned some kind of abuse between his mother and him. Although at that time it was unclear if it was a joint effort of abuse between the two, or if one of them was abusing the other. She had decided on the latter, the abuser being his mother. It didn't surprise her. She had heard many horror stories about individuals who travel with circuses or sideshows. The performers at Haly's circus were close knit, a family. She had found information to suggest the performers knew of Lila Valeska's death, but covered it up to protect Jerome. Whether this was completely true or not, she didn't know.

She began to wonder about Jerome's mental state. What would he be like upon his awakening? It may be possible that he would remember everything, only some things or even nothing. From other clinical trials she had participated in the results seemed to be a mixture of the three. Some patients were responsive and alert as soon as they awoke. Others not so much and many never woke up despite the appearance of a heartbeat and pulse. That was why she always talked to her patients. Many doctors believed the patients couldn't hear anything until they awoke. But Delilah had read many papers on comatose individuals who could hear and even respond to questions. She hoped this would be the case with her current patient. The more she learnt about him, the more intrigued she became.

The sound of a faint heartbeat met her ears. She opened her eyes to find herself looking upon Gotham out of an unfamiliar window. Immediately, her nose was hit with the distinct smell of cigarettes, something she didn't like too much. She felt a presence of another somewhere behind her.

"Hey, doll..." a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

She whipped her head around, so hard and fast her ponytail swung around and hit her in the face, trying to find the source of the voice. "Here, Delilah," She turned around again and saw a figure in front of her, his features darkened to the point where they couldn't be seen. "Jerome?" The figure smiled, then disappeared in a blink of an eye.

It was clear he was the one who was the cause of the cigarette smell.

Delilah looked around at the apartment. It was messy and looked as if it hadn't been lived in for a while.

A sound came from opposite her.

She looked over to the door handle, it was shaking. She placed her hand on the moving item. The door flew open.

Her ex stood in the doorway.

Delilah's eyes shot open. She looked over at the clock. It was still early, but she couldn't sleep any more, not after that dream. "Thanks, Jerome. Maybe I will be visiting Arkham after all."