A moment of weakness

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The crate wasn't too big and thankfully not too heavy, but the way up still seemed to be much longer than it had been down.

When they reached the office again it had already gotten pitch black outside. The clock showed past 3 am, Roka noted surprised while sitting down the crate on the floor. "Aaaw, man, I don't feel the slightest tired anymore though..."

"Then make yourself useful and help me testing the things." The Master dropped his own crate and kneeled in front of it. "And no self experiments!"

"How am I supposed to..."

"Not so smart after all, eh?" He laughed. "I'll check them, see what they are and then you test whether they still work."

"Fine..." Roka pouted. "But just so you know... if my eyes weren't damaged, thanks to you by the way, I could tell what they do."

"I'm not feeling sorry about that." He grinned and picked out some random devices.

Most of the stuff was hopelessly broken, others completely useless, but some things actually did still function quite well and over time a very peculiar collection came together. Roka made a list in her head of all things that had potential to be crafted into something useful.

A bright flash illuminated the surrounding for a moment, followed by a roaring thunder. Eventually rain started to hammer against the windows, its shadows painting eerie streaks onto the walls. The storm got worse by the minute and sometimes the lights flickered. One particularly nasty lightning bolt seemed to fry something nearby, cause suddenly most of the lamps went off. All that stayed were two dim bulbs in the front part of the office.

"Spooky." Roka giggled, but got no response.

In the spare light it got hard to test the scavenged material. Roka flew a tiny drone through the room when she heard the Master cursing all of a sudden. He had been unusually quiet the whole time, but now he let out some things that would even make a Jurtarik blush. He got up and scrambled around in one of the cupboards, before sitting down again, holding a small first aid kit.

"God damn surgery bugs," he mumbled. "At least they are sterile..."

Roka devoted her attention back to the drone, thinking about how she could attach a camera to it to spy around, maybe even help her see again. Finally she landed it next to the crate and saw the Master still struggling with a bandage. His left hand was bleeding pretty badly and... shaking. He stared at it for a while, then leaned back against the wall. "Whatever. It'll stop on its own."

"Don't tell me you can't see your own blood," Roka teased him.

"Nah... had worse injuries already..."

She looked at him for a while, before finally getting up and kneeled next to him. "Let me..."

"Get away!" the Master pulled the bleeding hand out of her reach. "And don't dare to touch me!"

"I don't even have to see it clearly to know it needs tending."

"And I said, get away!" He angrily stared at her.

She took the first aid kit and started to get out another bandage, but The Master snatched it out of her hands.

"Now you're acting childish." Roka laughed and when he still didn't react, she sighed frustrated. "Gimme your god damn hand already. I don't bite."

"You're just making it worse!" He complained, finally giving in with a growl. "That's humiliating..." he mumbled, leaning his head back, looking down to her. "And actually... the shaking is your fault."

The Master's Game (Doctor Who)Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu