Rush scowls at the prosthetic as she begins to flex it experimentally, as the improvised, reconfigured system responds to the neural synapses, as it begins to flood with new stimuli, as the body accepts the reconditioned limb as its own.

He is not frequently left with nothing to say, but his brain seems to be suffering imminent trouble with supplying him with anything situationally appropriate.

He smiles, a small, satisfied quirk of the lips, and leans back.

"I did say I would."