Fang's POV

"Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it…" I said under my breath, with my eyes scrunched up and my shoulders hunched. Usually, nothing could scare me (except for Gazzy and Iggy with a watch, gunpowder, and some wires), but this… well, this is different. Ever heard of a phobia? Ever had one? This was like that, but 10 times worse. And they hadn't even done anything yet.

Just put it together. Bird-kid. Terrible childhood. LOTS of needles, and LOTS of them going into my body. Get the point yet?

So where was I? The doctor's office, of course. More specifically, Dr. Martinez's office. "Just. Get. It. Over. With." I heard one, no, several, stifled giggles from the corner of the room. "And make them shut up." Dr. Martinez glared at the flock, and I could feel the awkwardness setting in on the room.

"See Fang, it's really easy. She just sticks you with the needle… and then…" Nudge trailed off. I gave her a shut up or I'll strangle you look.

"Okay Fang, you're going to feel a little prick in your finger, then a little pressure, and then it'll be all over with and you can pick out your band-aid. Does that sound okay?" she said, trying to be sincere.

"No. Actually, I'll just take the risks. No one really needs it right? It is possible to get along without it, right? Not necessary, right? You know, I'm just going to-"

"Fang, shut up." Iggy said bluntly. I took a deep breath.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"3…2…1…" Dr. Martinez started to say… and that's when I passed out.

"Fang? Fang? Hellloooooo?" I blinked once, twice. The flock was standing above me ina very soap opera-y way. I sat up. "Okay, I'm ready for the needleprick."

"Um, Fang? She, well, kinda did it while you were passed out." Nudge said as she smiled.

"Great." I glanced down at the Tasmanian Devil Band-Aid on my finger.

Dr. Martinez walked in. "Oh good, you're up. Ready for your vaccinations?

I blanched. "Just let me go get a…" As quick as I could, I threw open the window, jumped out, snapped out my wings, and flew away as fast as I could.

In about five minutes I was back at Dr. Martinez's house. Grabbing a cookie from the counter (here we always had say, about 5 plates of cookies each day), I ran up the stairs, threw open the door to find Max sitting on the bed.

"Smooth, genius." She said, standing up and smiling. I leaned against the wall, and put my forehead into my palm. "That's what I thought." She quickly grabbed me, and held me against the wall.

"I officially renounce any relationship to you if you don't let go of me this instant. And I'm dead serious." I knew what was coming if I got stuck here.

Just as I predicted,10 minutes later Dr. Martinez walked in with several needles, and a slightly ticked off expression.

"Does sorry cover it?"

"Don't worry about it. A phobia is a perfectly normal thing." She said as she unpacked her needles and prepared them. Turning her back on me, she said, "The only way to get through it is by facing it. Don't worry it'll turn out-"

"OW! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…" I screamed as she pulled the needle out.

"Don't worry. That was just the sedative." She reassured me. Wait, reassured?

And sedative? Sedative? Oh, right. Well, crap.