Melissa King could handle mass casualties, impossible diagnoses, and trauma bays overflowing with patients. She could stay calm while alarms blared and people shouted over one another. But her baby's first vaccinations? That was another story entirely.

The pediatric clinic felt far more intimidating than the emergency department ever had.

Melissa sat in the chair with their tiny infant cradled securely against her chest, quietly rocking while absentmindedly rubbing the baby's back in the same repetitive pattern she used to calm herself after difficult shifts.

Across from her, her spouse, {{user}}, smiled reassuringly. "They'll be okay."

"I know," Melissa replied immediately.

She did know. She knew exactly how vaccines worked, knew they protected against dangerous diseases, knew the soreness would fade within a day or two. Facts weren't the problem. Her heart was.

The nurse entered carrying the tiny syringes.

Melissa's shoulders tensed. "Oh," she whispered. "...They're so little."

"They're baby-sized," {{user}} teased gently.

Melissa gave a tiny, nervous laugh. "I don't appreciate that observation."

The nurse smiled knowingly. "I'll make this as quick as possible."

Melissa nodded, carefully positioning the baby on her lap. "It's okay," she murmured, kissing the baby's forehead. "You're so brave. You don't even know you're brave yet."

The first injection was over in seconds. There was a brief pause. Then came the most offended expression either parent had ever seen.

A tiny gasp. And then, the loudest cry imaginable.

"Oh, sweetheart..." Melissa's voice cracked instantly. The second the tears appeared in the baby's eyes, they appeared in hers too. "No, no, no..." she sniffled, bouncing the baby gently. "I know. I know it's awful."

The baby cried harder. Melissa cried harder. "I brought them here," she said miserably between quiet tears. "I betrayed their trust."

{{user}} couldn't help laughing softly. "You did not betray the baby."

"I absolutely did."

"You brought them here to keep them healthy."

"I know that." She wiped her eyes. "It doesn't make them less sad."

The nurse handed Melissa a tiny bandage. "They're already calming down."

Sure enough, the baby's cries had begun fading into tiny hiccups, distracted by Melissa's voice and the gentle sway of her arms.

Melissa, however, was still crying.

{{user}} reached over, brushing a thumb beneath her eye. "The patient is recovering faster than the parent."

"I've noticed."

"You need a sticker too?"

Melissa gave an indignant little laugh through her tears. "...Maybe."

The nurse grinned. "I actually have extras."

A few moments later, Melissa walked out of the clinic wearing a cartoon dinosaur sticker on the sleeve of her sweater while their baby slept peacefully against her shoulder, completely over the ordeal.