Natalya frowns, "How old are you?"

"What business is it of yours?"

"Well usually full grown people don't carry dolls. And I'm trying to figure out exactly who I'm dealing with," Natalya replies.

Through her veil Donna is glaring. Like a kitten her expressions of anger aren't really menacing. Although her hallucinogen isn't nearly so harmless. It should be setting in any moment now. But it isn't.

"Aren't you scared?" Angie asks.

"I don't feel fear. It's a flaw or a gift in my genetic makeup. Call it what you will."

Donna's own voice comes out in a whisper, "You don't feel fear."

"No," Natalya almost laughs, "Do you always talk through the doll like a ventriloquist or just to guests?"

That stops Donna cold. She holds Angie closer to her.

"You-You can see me-"

Natalya nods, chuckling.

With no explanation the Beneviento heir retreats to her bedroom.

Sometime later Donna returns. She moves hurriedly and stuffs the blindfold into Natalya's mouth before she can speak. Then she stands back breathing hard and glaring through her veil. Despite not being affected by the spores Natalya does feel how thick the air is.

"Do not, speak," Donna hisses, "You, are, my friend. You will like me. You will like me."

Natalya thinks she'll like this woman a lot more when she's not completely caught up in wires and trapped on a wooden table. So instead of speaking she nods quietly.

The smell of food wafts in. Donna stands with a steaming bowl between the doorway and the table in the workshop, frozen by indecision.

So Natalya spits the blindfold out, "If you set it down and release me I can sit and feed myself."

"No."

This is the first time Natalya sees Donna's hands shake. Her shoulders draw up. The sound of her voice is rough as though her throat is dry. While Donna struggles to think of a solution it gives Natalya more time to think.

If she only speaks through the doll maybe her throat is ragged from the ventriliquism. Or if the doll does all the talking, her voice is like an atrophied muscle. She's not used to speaking so her voice comes out garbled.

"Are you scared of me?" Natalya asks as gently as she can.

Silence is her answer.

"I won't hurt you. Just let me go and I'll eat by myself," After a moment of quiet Natalya adds, "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

Instead of making the sensible decision to release Natalya and let her feed herself, Donna resolves to move her to a chair, with great difficulty, push said chair to the kitchen, with great difficulty, and secure her new houseguest so she cannot move from it.

"Impressive knot. Most people would tie their fingers together."

Donna doesn't give any indication that she heard at all, getting the bowl of soup from the pot and returning with a spoon. Sitting across from Natalya Donna is at a disadvantage in altitude so she stands.

The first bite of soup Natalya takes she swears will be her last. It's grainy like eating muddy water and the taste is even worse. Chunks of something that might have been meat are slimy with a mushy texture and Natalya tries desperately to convince herself it was a bad tomato.

"Shit!" Natalya gags, "I've changed my mind, I think I'll just starve to death thanks."

"No!"

Reality warps at the edges and Donna has to set the bowl down before the soup sloshes out. She wrings her hands, breathing hard and seemingly fixating on Natalya's face.

"Okay. Do you have anything else? Eggs? I'll eat those raw as long as they smell decent and don't have blue spots on them."

"You, will eat," Donna rasps out.

"C-Rations are better than that stuff by leaps and bounds-"

Grabbing the fork Donna jabs the tines into Natalya's neck. It doesn't draw blood but it does leave an angry red scratch.

"I'll sew your mouth shut. Then you'll beg me. You'll want to eat. Anything. Anything I give you-"

Natalya sighs, "Put the fork down-"

Donna jabs harder.

"Fine!"

"You will, eat."

"I'll eat."

So for the next half an hour Donna sits feeding Natalya spoon by spoon. As long as Natalya doesn't say a word and doesn't refuse food, everything goes well.

"I'm full, I don't need anymore."

Seemingly Donna accepts this. Instead she comes back with some bread. It looks fresh and artisan. She breaks the loaf in half and eats some herself leaving Natalya to wonder for a moment if this is some sort of torture watching Donna eat normal food after being fed god knows what. But it does give Natalya a glimpse of her face. A single wind red mark comes down Donna's face. It splits like a waterfall running down her chin. Her skin is a beautiful shade of pale and her lips are just as pale, soft, and full.

Donna hesitates. Tearing off a piece of bread she gently extends her hand to Natalya.

The bread is delicious. Buttery, savory and soft with a very tough exterior. Natalya is happy for this bit of normal nourishment. Even passably pour food would be fine as long as it isn't spoiled and is identifiable.

Hesitantly, Donna breaks off another piece of bread to feed to her new plaything.

Bit by bit the bread gets smaller and smaller until it's barely a pinch of bread between Donna's nails. Whenever Donna feeds it to Natalya she strokes her fingers over her lips for a little longer each time. With the final piece she cups Natalya's jaw and smooths her fingers along her skin, feeling for her cheek bone and measuring along her eyebrows with her thumbs.

"Can-" Natalya hesitates and Donna jerks back like she's been burned. Already startled Natalya decides to finish again in her gentlest tone, "Can you see?"

"Yes," Donna manages. She sighs and gets a glass of water, "You need medicine."

"Thank you," Natalya murmurs. The pills are bitter and one burns her tongue and the inside of her mouth but she manages to swallow. It burns in her stomach and the pain is prickly and hot but is eventually numbed though Natalya's primal instincts tell her something is profoundly wrong.

Donna sighs and shakes. Suddenly she runs out of the room, leaving Angie sitting facing Natalya. With a heavy sigh Natalya goes about examining the doll from her position at the table.

"You're well loved. As old as you must be," Natalya murmurs. It's not the first time she's talked to inanimate objects. At least this one doesn't hold bullets and she isn't thinking about putting it to her temple. With a chuckle she cocks her head, "This isn't so bad. Like everything I guess it'll just take some getting used to. I'm warm. I'm fed. Hopefully I'll have a bed eventually. The only thing I could reasonably want back are my arm and legs."

Angie's head cocks to the side.

"I wonder what your name is."

Unbeknownst to Natalya, she's being watched. Donna can still hear and see her through Angie. This mutilated, intimidating woman is soft. She talks to Angie like another person. She is good.

Feeling awkward about running out Donna takes time laying out the sheets and fluffing the pillow before coming back downstairs. When she walks in the room Natalya is wincing. Her eyes instantly snap to Donna's face. Her intense green eyes with gold streaks.