(( A/N: If this gets +30 views in the first 24 hours I'll add the next update tomorrow. Good luck! ))

By the time Heisenberg returns with the metal frame Donna is ragged and practically excited to see him. Until he opens his mouth and blows smoke directly in her face. A doll flies out and cracks into the back of his head as Donna chokes and steps away to regain her composure.

"I wanna see what else you're putting into this mess," Heisenberg says, "It's the least you can do since you aren't paying me."

"Don't move!" Angie shouts.

In the dining room Donna takes a sheet and drapes it over Natalya, "Do not, speak."

Natalya doesn't understand why until she hears Heisenberg's heavy footsteps. She remains completely still as the pair passes and goes into Donna's work room.

"Oh, shit." There's a pause and a sound of something hitting leather then Heisenberg hisses. "Geez."

"Don't touch it smelly!" Angie shouts, "Donna spent three days getting the skin color to match!"

Suddenly Natalya's stomach plummets to the vicinity of her toes which is a frightening thought in and of itself. What could Angie possibly mean except that Donna was stitching together another doll made of human body parts?

"Hell, you're serious about this."

"Get out creepy! Donna's tired and you're stinking up the pleace!"

Heisenberg stumbles out and Natalya can imagine Angie flying in his face, as she has had done to her before. Not that she was able to move.

"Fine! But unless you get rid of your creepy ass psycho doll nothing you do is going to make her like you. Hell! No one will ever like you!"

As he reaches the door Natalya growls, "Stop projecting you fucking creep! Go crawl back under your rock!"

Once Karl is gone Donna emerges. She pulls Natalya into her work room and puts her by the table.

"Don't touch."

"Okay," Natalya looks at the metal frame and the papers strewn about. There's no blood or the smell of decay so she's somewhat relieved.

Angie brings over some screws and Donna grabs a screwdriver. She produces long pieces of wood painted a pale flesh tone. One to match Natalya's skin tone. There are even rare sprinkled moles like the ones that dot her skin. A crooked smile creeps onto her face as she watches.

"So this is what you're been working on. What is it?" Natalya asks.

Donna stops. Looking around she sets a piece of paper where Natalya can see it. The original pencil sketch is rough but the subsequent designs are in pen. A metal frame allows for a certain range of movement controlled by a spring mechanism. All around the frame are bits of wood that give it the look of a leg and a foot.

When Natalya looks up she realizes that what Donna is screwing together is a prosthetic. Her left leg. The veil shifts as Donna pauses to look up. Even not making direct eye contact she looks away quickly and continues working.

"Thank you," Natalya murmurs, eyes welling up with tears, "It's beautiful."

"Yeah so don't scuff it up," Angie barks. Natalya looks at her and laughs, "I'll be extra careful."

Along with the wooden panels Donna has made a sock to cover each of Natalya's leg stumps. Inside are thick pads of wool and rubber to help ease the pressure on her wounds which are healing as well as can be expected.

Once they're on, Natalya runs her hands over the fabric, "These are great. I've been a little cold at night. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

With Donna's careful attention to detail and lack of power tools it takes several hours to construct one leg. She carefully pushes it into place. Then she gets the harness that the prosthetic clips to like a heavy duty leather garter belt on the outside of Natalya's clothing.

"You really thought of everything," Natalya murmurs, shifting to help slip the leather on.

"Not, too tight?" Donna hesitates putting her hands too close to Natalya's body.

"Nope. Just right."

Donna begins working on the other leg frame. Meanwhile Natalya admires the completed one.

"You're amazing."

Silence fills the room. Donna stops, setting the screwdriver down. Natalya smiles her rugged grin, "Really. Most people are either artistic or mathematically inclined. Most people aren't engineers and artists. The fact that you can do both is rare and the lengths you've taken it to are amazing."

Angie looks at Donna, "She's not lyin'. I don't think she can."

Even so, the poor Beneviento is not accustomed to accepting compliments. Verbal abuse, sure. Compliments? They're a strange sort of weapon. Her hands shake and she hurries out.

"Shit."

Now Angie looks at Natalya, "You're telling the truth right?"

"Yes, yes of course. I-I just wanted to say thank you for-"

Then Angie flies out after Donna, leaving Natalya alone in the work room. In the corner of the room she spots an old wooden crutch. She figures with that and one leg she could manage to hobble around. It does not escape her how hard Donna is working to haul her around the house. At six and a half feet tall she towers over the Beneviento woman. Natalya knows she's heavy.

Using the counter and table to pull herself around Natalya manages to grab the crutch. With it and a deep breath she rocks up onto her leg. The movement is awkward and rusty. The spring isn't reliable and stretches oddly but she manages to sway and bend until she stands.

Standing. After a few weeks it's an achievement.

Next, walking. With all possible apprehension Natalya leans forward and uses the crutch and her foot to hop alternating which is supporting her body. It feels good to use the muscles in her shoulder and back and arm again. She misses working out.

As Donna comes back into the room her head is bowed. A shadow falls over her and she whips her head up. Closer than anyone's face has ever been to her own is Natalya. In the dim light her eyes seem to glow and she's staring at Donna's partially exposed face in awe.

For a few precious moments the two stand in shock staring at each other.

"What are you doing?"

Angie's grating snap shatters the moment. Donna grabs Natalya's harness and growls. With her rough voice it's a convincing sound.

"Sit."

"The chair's, over there."

With Donna pulling her Natalya has a harder time hobbling back until she's pushed into the chair. Once she's there the unseen threads in the house bind her arms to her sides and her legs to the chair so she cannot move.

"A little tight."

"Don't care," Donna mutters.

In a few more hours the second leg is done. With the completed work in her hands Donna hesitates. With it Natalya can walk. She could walk away. Or run.

Natalya can only guess what is going through the woman's mind. She cocks her head, "I'm sorry, did I upset you?"

Donna's shoulders draw up and she holds the leg closer to her. She can't lose Natalya. She's hers. Not Alcina's or Miranda's and god forbid Karl gets a hold of her. Natalya is hers and hers alone.

The gentle expression on her face is the epitome of roguish charm with faded scars and mysterious eyes. Her dark hair hangs loosely from the braid at her back.

"You can't leave."

"I won't," Natalya shakes her head. She laughs, "Where would I go?"

Donna's hands shake.

"I'm not going to leave. I just want to be able to walk. I'm not sure if you've noticed but it's kind of embarrassing having you move me in and out of the bathroom," Natalya says.

Donna giggles. It's an uneven, awkward little snicker of a sound and her hand flies to her mouth. Natalya chuckles too.

With both legs on and the crutch in hand Donna stands back. She folds her hands behind her back. Her dolls are locking and barring every door and window. Natalya won't leave because she can't. Donna will make sure of it.

Rocking up onto her feet again both legs ache and Natalya winces. It's not pleasant but the relief from constant sitting is enormous. Her spine straightens and Natalya rises to her full height. Doll parts bump into her head and she looks up. Again Donna snickers, muffling the sound with her hand.

Natalya smiles, "Look, I'm standing."