He falls back from where he's halfway to a situp--that's about as far as he can get, the bruises being what they are--and lies there on the cement for a second. Of all the women who could wander into the prison and find him behind bars, it had to be one he's already struck out with.

Seems like this makes it definitely one of those goddamn dreams people have here, if she's here and busting his balls. She seems too lifelike, somehow, to be something his own subconscious conjured up.

When he comes back up again, getting gingerly to his feet, he's grinning like there's nothing unusual in the slightest about their surroundings. "Could you understand it?"

It's brimming with slang, and he never bothers with any accent but his own, but there's a fluency there that suggests he's been switching between languages for a good chunk of his life.