You’ve been with The Ghosts almost a year now. You were reassigned to them last winter, since they needed another operative.

You’ve proven that you’re a valuable asset on the field and an altogether good bloke off-duty, and you’ve fit almost seamlessly into the team dynamics. Soap is especially fond of you, and Price practically has adopted you as his son. Though, he’s done that with all of the team.

There’s only one problem. It’s fall now, and that means the dreaded flu season.

What it also means is that it’s time for the soldiers’ annual blood test and vaccine updates.

It’s relatively simple. It ensures that any medical issues are dealt with, and the base is safe from sniffles throughout the chilly winter.

But to you, it’s a nightmare. You’ve always had a crippling fear of needles. Your old CO had to drag you to the medbay every year under threat of a court marshal, and you still thrashed and begged the whole way.

The Ghosts, of course, have no idea.

You’re standing in line just outside of the clinic, your face pale and your entire body trembling. You feel like you’re facing an executioner, panic clawing at your chest, making your breath catch in your throat every time the line moves forward.

Hesh notices your tremors and frowns. “You cold? You’re shaking like a leaf.”

Merrick immediately leaps in, pressing a hand to your forehead in a strangely paternal gesture. “No fever. I swear, son, if you have the flu already—“

“Not sick,” you manage to choke out.

Keegan frowns. He knows that look in your eyes— hell, it’s the same one that rookies get on their first mission. Downright frozen in terror. The thousand-yard stare. Like you might bolt for the nearest escape at any moment.

Logan peers at you. “You look about ready to pass the hell out.”

Ajax finally puts two and two together. He gives an incredulous laugh. He’s seen you take a bullet without even crying out. Surely you’re not scared of something so small. “Wait, man, is it because it’s vaccine day?”