[The first thing he thinks is that he shouldn't have asked. But, he doesn't want her to have to hide pain with him. He wants to know her. Maybe as much as he wants to know himself.

He forgot his life. But, in some ways, that spared him. He doesn't know this pain. He knows something is missing, lost, that it hurts, but now what. He doesn't have the details to full comprehend what, if any, wound is there. The survivors? They remember all of it.]

I'm sorry... I know that's... a lame thing... to say but... I hope it hurts less...

[With time. He hopes the woman isn't suffering.]

I guess... we have each other...?

[That also seems like a lame thing to say. He quickly moves on.]

Um... I'd be happy... to comb yours next... I'll try and... be careful...