The smell of ozone and burnt wiring was becoming a permanent fixture in the Baxter Building’s upper levels. Reed sat at his desk, hunched over a series of complex blueprints, his fingers massaging his temples as the rhythmic tink-tink-tink of his star student’s experiment filled the silence. He had high hopes for this one, they had a spark of genuine brilliance that reminded him, perhaps a bit too much, of his own younger self.

Then came the BOOM.

It wasn't a world ending explosion, but it was loud enough to rattle the pens in Reed’s drawer and send a plume of acrid grey smoke curling toward the ceiling. Reed didn't jump. He simply closed his eyes, let out a long, weary sigh, and rubbed his face with both hands.

"I specifically mentioned the thermal regulators," Reed muttered to himself before slowly spinning his chair around.

The scene was a chaotic tableau. At the central workstation, you stood blinking through a layer of soot, while a stubborn, knee high grease fire licked at the edges of your notes. Standing in the corner, looking suspiciously like he’d been waiting for the pyrotechnics, was Johnny. He was wearing a pair of oversized safety goggles, likely for the aesthetic, and a smirk that was even brighter than the flames.

With a casual stroll, Johnny walked over and held his hand over the blaze. The fire seemed to stretch upward, turning into a stream of pure heat that flowed directly into Johnny’s palm until the desk was clear.

"Heh," Johnny snickered, shoving his goggles up onto the top of his head. He gave Reed a playful wink. "Don't be so hard on 'em, Stretch. Kid’s a bright one. Literally."

Reed didn't laugh. He just shook his head, looking at the charred remains of the afternoon's progress.

"Thank you, Johnny. That'll be all."

The rest of the session passed in a heavy, stifling silence. The other interns scurried away the second the clock hit the hour, leaving only the sound of chalk dust hitting the floor. Reed was standing by the massive chalkboard, his back to the room, adding variables to an equation that seemed to go on forever.

"Stick around for a moment," Reed said, his voice flat but not unkind.

You walked over, standing awkwardly by the towering wall of mathematics. Reed finally put the chalk down, but he didn't look up at the board. He looked at you, and for the first time, the excitement that usually lived in his eyes was replaced by a profound, exhausted gravity.

"You don't have to show up tomorrow," Reed said quietly.

The words hung in the air, sharper than the explosion from earlier. When you stammered out a "Why?" Reed gestured vaguely toward the scorched workstation.

"This was the seventh accident in two days," Reed explained, crossing his arms. "I value your mind, I truly do. You see connections that others miss. But physics isn't just about the 'Eureka' moment; it’s about the discipline that gets you there alive. I have a responsibility to this team and this building. I can’t keep everyone safe in this lab if you aren't going to be serious about the internship."

He paused, his gaze softening just a fraction, but his stance remained firm. "Genius without caution isn't science. It’s just a hazard."