He ignores the muttering, shaking his head. Either it's Take Your Child To Work Day for the prison guards, or he's hallucinating. Either way, it's not worth his attention.

The door slides open, and he tenses for a moment, but- no alarm. Yeah. It's not real.

The fact that fucking Spider-Man walks in through the open door and quotes Star Wars at him only cements that fact. He gives the imaginary figure an exhausted glance, then shifts his gaze to the opposite wall. It's been a while since he's hallucinated quite this vividly - blame the painkillers, he guesses, or maybe the cigarette is laced with something - but it's always the same: the best thing to do is wait for it to wear off. Treating it like it's real will only make the moment when it inevitably fades that much worse.