The Scientific Method (Egon/Reader)

4. RESEARCH

FRIDAY MORNING

You were still standing outside the back door to the office, mustering up the courage to walk in like it was any other day at work.

But this wasn't like any other day. Egon's words from the other night had been swirling through your mind. You replayed them over and over again, like one of your favorite movies. You remembered the tone of his voice, the sound of his footsteps, the weight of his hand on your shoulder, that look in his eyes. Had he always been this way and you'd just never noticed until now? 

A throat cleared exaggeratedly behind you and you let out a startled squeak before turning to see the bemused face of Peter Venkman.

"Oh my god, Peter, you scared me!"

"Well good morning to you too, beautiful! We missed you in the office yesterday. Feeling better?"

"Better?"

"Well Egon said you've been having trouble sleeping."

You got your key into the lock and opened the door, grateful to step into the warmth. 

"Oh, yeah...I'm fine. Just some...intense dreams lately. All rested now and ready to go!" 

You gave him an over-exaggerated smile and thumbs up. Peter raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. 

"Uh huh, well glad you're back. Do me a favor and brew up some of that fantastic coffee that we hired you for. Ray made some yesterday and it tasted like motor oil and cigar smoke."

"Sure, sure...although I should let you suffer with that attitude, Peter."

Venkman held up his hands in a surrender. He gave you an exaggerated bow. "My sincerest apologies, m'lady."

Grinning, you made your way upstairs. 

"Damn it!" 

You stopped short hearing Egon's frustrated voice from behind the lab door followed by a loud bang of a fist on the table. 

You tried to open the door but it was locked from the inside. Odd.

"Dr. Spengler?" you called through the door, knocking gently on the glass.

"Yes?" came a muffled voice.

"Dr. Spengler, are you alright?"

"Oh Y/N, you're back. Hold on, I'll let you in."

He unlocked the door and the sight in front of you stopped you short.

The entire room was in utter disarray. 

Every single countertop, including those in the kitchen, was cluttered in stacks of paperwork, test tube trays, petri dishes, and from your observation nearly every single glass specimen jar in the lab was out and filled with more pink ectoplasm. You made your way gingerly through the room, stepping carefully over the stacks of dirty dishes, empty coffee cups, and takeout containers on the floor.  The air of the lab reeked of iodine, sulfur, burned coffee, and leftover Chinese takeout. The kitchen sink was filled to the brim with dirty lab equipment. The trash can was overflowing. The air exchanger was practically roaring, trying to keep up with the air filtration needs. 

You had been gone ONE DAY.

Egon had already gone back to his desk, head buried in one hand, the other rapping frustratedly on the table as he stared at the monitors. 

"Dr. Spengler, what on earth have you been doing in here?!"

Egon sighed and ran his hand down his face and you happened to notice the faint sheen of ectoplasm on his fingertips.