Jesse had seen your face around before. You were a slave to Jack’s group of neo-nazis. He saw them hose you down against the wall, saw them beat you senseless when you tried to sneak extra food. You were a captive to them, just like he was.

He was used to seeing you in passing. He’d watched new scars and bruises appear on your face. It’d been so long since Jesse had seen his own reflection, and he so he caught himself thinking about your face all the time, wondering if he looked like you.

Jesse got a good look at you for the first time a month ago, when they first dropped you into the concrete pit he’d been living in for months. Something about you misbehaving. Jack and his crew hoped Jesse could serve as an example of good, obedient behavior.

You were rugged and quiet at first. You had a dead look in your eye that would’ve made Jesse squirm, if he weren’t so used to seeing it in the gazes of his captors.

He was drawn to you nevertheless. After all, you were the one who understood the hell he was living in. You were like him.

He startled slightly as you stirred beside him, awaking to the sound of thunder.