Crazy for You - Valeska Brothers x Female OC (Gotham)

5. The Truth

Sam's P.O.V

"Hi, Jerome and Samantha, please take a seat," Gordon says.

I notice a woman standing behind him. I think she's a doctor maybe? No. She probably is one of those people who look over dead bodies. Not exactly comforting.

"I believe you know Mr Cicero, Jerome," Gordon says, and I notice an old man as I step inside. Jerome calmly places himself down beside the old man, and replies with a simple "yes sir".

The woman gives me a warm but small smile, and I give her one back, while I sit down.

Jerome turns to Cicero. I know him, but not that well.

Jerome's hand brushes against mine under the table. It feels a bit shaky. Just a bit.

I grab it, and hold it tightly, signalling to him that everything will be okay.

"Hello, Mr Cicero."

"Good evening, Jerome," Mr Cicero replies.

"Do you know why you're here?" Gordon asks.

"No," I reply, and he turns his head towards me for a second. I notice something strange in the way his eyes stare at me. Pity. No. Why would he feel sorry for me? I don't really care about Lila.

"Did you find out who killed my mother?" Jerome questions, and I can hear the eagerness in his voice.

"You killed your mother, Jerome."

I feel my heart beat faster.

No. No way.

I've heard the police are corrupt. Jerome would never do that. It has to be a lie. Or maybe wrong evidence?

"M-Me?" Jerome stutters. He didn't do it. Right?

"You killed her up on that hill, and Mr Cicero let you clean up in his trailer. He told you to scratch the satanist stuff and the hatchet and throw it off the bridge."

"Sir, that's absurd and... and offensive."

"But it's the truth."

"I'm sorry," I speak up, and he gives me the same look as before, "I-I think you've got this wrong. Jerome wouldn't do that."

"No, I'm sorry, Samantha. But he would," Gordon replies. "But what I don't know is why this man risked so much to help you..." He tilts his chin at the blind elder sitting on the other side of Jerome. "I think he's your father."

"You don't know what you're talking about. My father was a sea captain."

"He was," I agree, "Lila said so."

"Am I wrong, Mr Cicero?"

"Yes."

"He was a sea captain. His name was Sven Karlsen, he died at sea," Jerome continues.

I feel bad for him. Being accused of killing his mom and now this?

"What was the name of the ship?"

"He worked on lots of different ships."

"The one he went down in."

I notice the tears forming in Jerome's eyes, "s-she never said."

"We can do a blood test to prove I'm right. Takes only half an hour to get a foolproof result. Isn't that right, Dr Thompkins?"

The woman behind him nods, "Yes."

"Save yourself a needle."

"I do hate needles," Cicero mumbles, "I'm sorry Jerome."

"W-What are you talking about?"

"He's right. I am your father."

"You're not. Why would you say that?"

"You must've suspected the truth."

It starts to add up in my head. Cicero was always nice to Jerome. And I didn't think he was even a nice person.

"You're not my father. My mother would never-"

"Your mother was a cruel woman. She was often unkind to me but she did once love me, in her way. And she loved you, very much. That's why she gave you a better father."

Jerome places one of his hands on the table, and looks down at it, starting to cry.

Using my thumb, I stoke his hand while it's clasped in mine.

But, that's when I realise he's not crying.

He lets out a loud laugh.

"My mother was a coldhearted whore who never loved anyone and she'd never touch a pathetic old creep like you."

I try to pull my hand away from his, he's scaring me. But, he tightens his grip, and I can't move.

"All those years, do you think I was kind to you because I was a good man? If I wasn't your father, would I ever help you after what you did?"

Oh my God. No. No, no, no. He wouldn't.

Jerome glances at me, a massive smile played out on his face.

Then, he turns to Gordon.

"My father. Hmm, well I'll be dammed. That's very funny. Bdum Tsh," he pretends to play a drum, and does an hysterical laugh. "Looks like the bitch got me with the zinger in the end."

"Why did you kill your mother, Jerome?" Jim pushes.

I expect Jerome to deny it. He didn't do it. He couldn't have.

"Oh, you know how mothers are. She just kept pushing," he growls, and I feel my head start to spin, "and I'm like 'fine mom, be a whore. Be a drunken whore even. But don't be a nagging drunken whore.'"

He smiles evilly, "Y'know? 'Don't come yell at me to do the dishes when you've been banging a clown in the next room!'" He moves his hand away from mine, and smashes his fists against the table, "Y'know?"

I stand up, trying to ignore Jerome's insane laugh.