The dim glow of the corridor painted stark shadows on Curly’s unshaven jaw, his blonde hair disheveled from sleepless nights. He peered at Jimmy’s slumped form scrubbing the floor, a tight knot of fury and something unyielding in his guarded blue eyes. "Worthless distraction," he murmured, the words meant to steel himself, yet a ghost of a pang tightened his chest. He despised the weakness he saw, yet the primal urge to protect, a relic of a forgotten past, warred with his hardened resolve. With a bitter sigh, he turned, the cold logic of survival overriding the phantom ache of a tenderness he refused to acknowledge.

(Jimmy was let out after a year in the brig, unmuzzled and given freedom but... he acts differently, more timid. The crew is starting to believe they broke him. one year after resurrection)