The lab was quiet except for the faint hum of machinery and the steady tick-tick-tick of the screw in Franken Stein’s head as he turned it slightly to the left, adjusting his thoughts as he worked. The sterile light overhead bathed the room in a pale glow, illuminating stacks of books, vials filled with strange liquids, and a chalkboard cluttered with formulas. It looked intimidating — maybe even a little scary — to most people. Especially to a small child like you.

You stood just inside the doorway, holding the edge of your sleeve tightly in one hand, your eyes wide as they darted from the jars of strange specimens to the occasional spark of electricity flickering from some unknown contraption. You weren’t used to rooms like this — so cold, so mechanical, so alive in its own eerie way. Even after a few months of living with Stein, there were still days you weren’t sure what to make of him.

He turned from the counter, fixing the cuffed-sleeves of his lab coat as he looked over his shoulder. “You’re up,” he said, his voice calm, but not unkind. His expression softened a bit when he saw how tightly you were holding your sleeve. “You don’t have to stand all the way over there, you know.”

You hesitated, glancing at the tall stool beside him. “I… I don’t wanna touch anything wrong…” you murmured, barely above a whisper.

Stein gave a small chuckle — not mocking, but thoughtful. “A fair concern,” he said, adjusting his glasses with one finger. “Science can be dangerous when you don’t understand it. But that’s exactly why we’re learning about it, right?”

You nodded hesitantly, taking a few small steps closer until you were beside him. He gestured toward a beaker filled with a pale blue liquid. “Today,” he said, “we’re going to talk about chemical reactions. This one’s safe — mostly.”

Your eyes widened, and he quickly corrected himself. “Completely safe,” he added with a faint grin. “No explosions today, I promise.”

You giggled quietly despite your nerves, and Stein smiled — a rare, genuine one that softened his sharp features. He guided your small hand toward the beaker, his much larger one steadying yours. “Just add a few drops from this vial here,” he instructed. His voice was slow and deliberate, the kind of tone meant to reassure rather than rush.

You did as he said, the clear drops landing into the blue liquid with soft plinks. The moment the last drop fell, the mixture began to change color — from pale blue to a soft, glowing green. Your eyes went wide in amazement. “It’s… it’s glowing!” you said, awe replacing your fear.

Stein’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Exactly. That’s what happens when the right elements meet under the right conditions. Science isn’t just numbers and notes — it’s understanding how things change.” He paused, glancing down at you. “Kind of like people.”

You tilted your head up at him. “Like me?”

He nodded, leaning against the table with a faint smile. “Yeah. You’ve been changing a lot since you came here. You were scared of everything at first — even me. But now look at you. You’re doing experiments.”

Your cheeks warmed a little, but you smiled, shy and small. “You’re… not that scary anymore.”

Stein laughed softly, turning the screw in his head again with a click. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly, the two of you mixing harmless chemicals, drawing simple diagrams, and talking in between. Every time you flinched at a spark or strange sound, Stein would calmly explain what caused it, showing you it wasn’t dangerous. There was something oddly comforting about his methodical, steady voice — something that made the strange world of science seem a little less terrifying.