#jon checklov

With her left-hand Natasha sipped and the little cup of tea she had been brewed by the very kind servants of this estate. She'd only recently even tried tea, Natasha had decided she liked it.

Though it wasn't all totally comfortable, Natasha was becoming mildly annoyed that she couldn't use her right arm; because it wasn't there at the moment.

It was more inconvenient than it was upsetting. Natasha had long since, to her own surprise, gotten used to the whole thing. The only part that still bothered her was times like this, when the damn thing broke, and she needed a new one.

Fortunately, the solution to her problem was walking up right now.

Jon Checklov's dark and dishevelled appearance contrasted with the bright surroundings. Under his arm he carried a long thin box. Natasha smiled at him, Jon frowned back.

"Well, I finished," he said.

"I see that," Natasha chuckled. "Well, come on, I can't put on my own arm."

"Not exactly a sterile environment," Checklov said, kneeling down next to Natasha.

"And Commonwealth medical rooms are?"

"Yeah that's fair."

Checklov opened the box, and inside was a metallic imitation of an arm. In fact, it was a near to-scale replica of Natasha's other arm.

"I made a few modifications, tried to shave off some weight where I could," Checklov said, he reached into the box and pulled out a screwdriver. He popped open a panel near the shoulder of the arm and began to fiddle with the mechanics.

"I'm sure it'll be fine,” Natasha said. She carefully lifted the sleeve of her shirt to uncover her right shoulder. There, affixed to her was the iron socket forged to house her arm.

Checklov carefully lifted the arm, Natasha watched him work. His eyes were intense in focus, yet, as Natasha watched, she noticed his hands were shaking.

“Has it been long now?” Natasha asked. “Since you’ve had… you know.”

“I went through the worst of it on the trip over here,” Checklov said. “This is just… well, I usually have some to steady myself before working.”

“It’s okay, just breath, you can’t hurt me.”

Checklov gave a look but focused on his task. Carefully, ever so gently, he guided the arm into the socket. He paused, allowing Natasha to brace herself, before with a firm push he snapped the mechanics together. The resulting shock exploded Natasha’s shoulder in pain briefly, but it faded just as fast.

“There, all done,” Checklov said.

Natasha smiled, stretching out her arm to its fullest extent and moving each of the fingers.

“Thank you, you’re amazing,” Natasha said. “Your work is beautiful.”

Jon flinched and grimaced.

“My work…” Checklov sighed. “My work is designing weapons of war, I don’t create beautiful things.”

“Jon,” Natasha said. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Bah, I don’t want to hear it, just make sure that arm actually works,” Checklov said, standing up and dusting off his knees. Natasha looked at his sombre expression, and suddenly she got an idea, one that made her smile.

“You’re right, in fact, I have the perfect test in mind…” Natasha said, sprinting to her feet.

“And what is that-!” Jon yelled as Natasha effortlessly wrapped her new metallic arm around Checklov’s relatively small form, she lifted him on her shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes and began to spin around and jump, laughing. “I think it works better than ever!”

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Jon yelled, his arms and legs flailing uselessly. “Come on, put me down! This isn’t funny, stop laughing!”

Natasha spun him around a few more times before placing Checklov back on his feet. His face flushed and his expression incredulous. Natasha put her hands on her hips.

“Jon Checklov, you foolish old man,” she said. “You have me an arm, you have let me write my own name, you kept me alive when no one else could. You’re not to blame for how others have used your intelligence. You’ve helped people walk again, you’ve made machines to keep people not only alive but happy, that is beautiful.”

“But-“

“No,” Natasha said, and she grabbed Checklov again, this time for a hug. “You don’t understand, stop blaming yourself, stop hating yourself. Start making what you want to make, you’re free to do that now, and I know you can create beautiful things.”