4, or when, for the first time Bunsen's plans implying Beaker backfire

.

- Oh, that's a project for an anti-lock picking lock. It's supposed to burn a person who doesn't have the key and it happens to currently be lost somewhere around here so, please, be careful Beaker.

With a nervous nod, Beaker apparently chose to take a look anyway to the beginning of an invention nailed on a door. His left hand carefully examined his boss' work with an apparently sincere curiosity, making Bunsen feel particularly proud. They have been sharing their life for a few days now and it seemed like the red-headed muppet was feeling less anxious around him, turning out to be a pleasant company. He would have never expected him to be such a comfort.

In the middle of his thought, he suddenly realized that he was smiling, in a mixture of surprise and something like fear. The sparkle in Beaker's eyes amazed and scared him at the same time. It was already so familiar to him and so meaningful, as if his assistant's interest meant more than anybody else's, and wasn't only feeding his ego. Maybe it was now a matter of time before he could call him... A friend. The first he would ever have.

A strange feeling he never experimented came in his chest but before he could put a name on it, it got replaced by his fear, growing along with his incapacity to understand. His life had been the same for so many years, why would it change now and against all the rules of logic ? How could he feel motivated by something else than success itself ?

He couldn't let himself feel affection towards his assistant. He couldn't let something or someone be as important to him as science, or everything he'd ever built wouldn't have any sense. He wouldn't have any sense.

So before he could even think about it, his free hand discreetly grabbed the outlet and plugged it in.

Hearing Beaker screaming in pain made his heart jumped in a way it never did before. But it was necessary, he thought as his assistant took a step back while rubbing a new mark on his hand with teary eyes. He had to take some distance in a while. He had to make him realize that they would never be a thing.

But as he began to say the first thing which came to his mind, his voice vanished, cut by the hardly articulate 'meeps' that his assistant made as he suggested that he needed to get some cold water immediately.

Somehow, it selfishly made him realize that he could take care of Beaker without making their relationship a nuisance. Hurting him on the stage to curing him backstage, hurting him to keep him out, curing him to keep him in. And so he will have both him and science.

With a warm smile that seemed to surprise his assistant despite his pain, he pointed his injury.

- You really are unlucky, I'm afraid... Give me your hand, I will help you.