"Jesus, Crane," Tillman muttered as he stowed the gun in the waistband of his pants. There was no real relief in finding out that the doctor was alone. Adversaries, he could deal with. He avoided Crane's chosen corner of the room as he checked under the bed and in the closet just to be sure but as Crane continued to carry on, he came to the grim realization that there was nothing here to fight except Crane himself.

"Did you dose yourself?" he asked, voice quiet and neutral as watched the terrified, sweat-dampened face of the doctor. It was bizarre to see him like this. Even when he was cracked and talking to himself, there was some semblance of impassive control. He was without his mask.

When Tillman received no immediate response, he began searching through the tangled sheets for an empty cartridge of fear gas. After moving some things around, he thought better of it. It wouldn't do to accidentally dose himself to confirm a theory.

"I'm going to move you closer to the window," Tillman stated in the same tone as before. "Fresh air."