"Forty-two hours?" He repeats, the incredulity in his tone not hidden one little bit. "You're- what, at least in your thirties, that shouldn't be possible." But, goddamn, does it pique his interest in this man all the more.

Five leans forward, arms resting on his knees as he looks over the other man for a long moment, "The hell did they actually do to you?" it's mostly rhetorical because he's made it pretty clear whatever memories he does have, they're screwed up and scrambled so much he barely knows up from down at this point.

"What do you remember... when you were with your commanding officers, did they inject you with anything? Do you remember seeing syringes or taking pills, anything like that?" If this memory block is medical, maybe they could reverse it, given enough time.

Is this man becoming a puzzle for Five to unravel? Possibly.