Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Gattaca, and this is not for profit.

---

A pair of nurses walked past me as I was leaving the hospital.

"You look awful! Bad day?"

"Not really. It's nothing. I was just seeing to Mr Morrow and ..."

"That explains it. It'll take you a while to get used to patients like Jerome. You look at him and just want to cry, until he opens his mouth and you just want to hit him."

They continued down the hall, and I stood frozen in front of the door.

Jerome Morrow.

It wasn't, I reminded myself, the most uncommon of names. Still …

I turned around and headed towards the room the nurse seemed to have come from. The man in the bed was asleep, so I headed straight for his charts. I skimmed over his symptoms (severe) and treatment (the bare minimum required to keep him alive), looking for a genetic profile.

"Haven't seen you in here before," said a voice.

I started, almost guilty, and put the file down.

"I'm here for a meeting," I replied. My mind was working furiously. How were you supposed to ask someone a question like this? "I usually work at Gattaca Aerospace Corporation."

No reaction.

"Why are you here, then? I'm no astronaut."

"I'm not here as a doctor. I heard one of the nurses mention your name, and I think we might have a mutual friend. The name Vincent Freeman mean anything to you?"

Of course he would deny it, even if it was true. So I scrutinized the wreck of a face, searching for some hint of recognition. I thought I saw something in his eyes, but it was gone an instant later.

"No, I can't say that it does."

---

"I think I spoke to your namesake yesterday," I remarked to Vincent during his next substance test.

"Oh? That's more than I can say lately. Haven't seen him since I went up. Where was he?"

Though his face remained casual, as always, I heard a note of suppressed urgency in his voice.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," I warned. "I'm not sure if it was him or not. The name can't be that unique, and he claimed not to know you."

"Well, he would. I know it's a big world, but it's still a possibility. What happened?"

"Not much to tell. I overheard a couple of nurses talking about him. One said that she wants to cry whenever she looks at him, until he starts to speak and makes her want to hit him."

Vincent smiled slightly. "That does sound like him … Nurse? Was he in hospital?"

"You didn't know that?"

"Like I told you, I haven't seen him since I went up. He was healthy when we said goodbye."

"It's not that he's ill. He's injured, pretty badly."

"How?"

The look on his face shocked me. I hadn't imagined he cared this much for his double, or for anyone. I respect and admire Vincent, and I'm also quite fond of him, but I'd never seen him demonstrate human emotion before.

I named the worst injury first.

"A broken back."

"I know that," said Vincent with something between relief and irritation. "It happened seven years ago. Is that all?"

"He's also suffered third degree burns to a large portion of his body."

"How the hell did that happen?"

"I don't know. You'll have to ask him."

"Yes. I'll meet you after work and get the address of that hospital."

---

A/N: I know this chapter isn't very good, but it's necessary to set things up. The next one is better and much longer. Promise.