[A moment's hesitation, and he reaches for the offered hand, grasping it like a lifeline, anchoring him in the present, here and now.]
... thanks. I sure hope so.
[Because-- what the hell happened? And more importantly... why is his memory so patchy? Is this place messing with him? He has flashes, moments without context, none that make sense-- the only thing that does is the lingering familiarity of the uncertainty.]