It's always a shock, the first time you see your own flesh and bone knit back together; the years blur together for Andy, but certain things are neon-bright, and her first reformed bone is one of them.

She's sure she'd broken a kneecap and an elbow of Nile's on the plane, but the girl clearly doesn't remember, the way she's staring at her own femur jutting out from mangled flesh.

"Brace," Andy says, holding out a hand, and Nile takes it just in time for the sharp wrench, "and breathe, it's always worse than a gut-shot, especially the fragments pulling back together . . . yeah, it's okay, I puked too, I won't tell the rest."