Disclaimer: Dr. Berinski is mine. Mr. Peabody and Sherman are not.

Four-year-old Sherman sat in the sidecar of his father's moped, anxiously watching New York City zip by him. He bit his lip nervously, looking over at his dog father, Mr. Peabody.

Under normal circumstances, Sherman would love doing things with Mr. Peabody. Whether they be taking a trip in the WABAC or simply grocery shopping, Sherman enjoyed any quality time he could spend with his dad.

But today, he'd rather do dishes then suffer the inevitable fate he would be facing in the next few minutes.

Mr. Peabody and Sherman entered a beige-colored building, walking through the revolving door.

Sherman lagged behind, dragging his feet as Mr. Peabody dragged him.

"Sherman, walk properly. If both your legs are in working conditions, I expect you to be able to use them. Now, up." Mr. Peabody stopped, pulling his son up and standing him straight up.

Sherman looked down at the ground, "I'm not going."

Mr. Peabody sighed, "Yes, Sherman, you are. We've been over this multiple times. I'm going to be right there with you the entire time." The beagle ruffled the little boy's auburn hair.

Sherman said nothing, his eyes still glued to the floor.

Mr. Peabody ran a paw down his face. He had been expecting this.

This was Sherman's first time getting blood work done. His pediatrician had recommended during their last visit that Sherman get blood work done.

Mr. Peabody full-heartedly agreed. This was a good opportunity to see if his boy was healthy. While he fully expected that he was, only a blood test could tell.

While Mr. Peabody may have had a doctorate degree in the medical field, he felt it best to leave the blood tests to the professionals. He never did enjoy handling blood.

The bloodstream may have been a fascinating subject to study, but it was not fascinating to touch. He just didn't like it.

But, blood work had to be done eventually, and the busy canine finally found some free time in his schedule to do so.

It had taken quite a hassle to get out of the penthouse that morning. Sherman couldn't have breakfast since doctors believe that they'd receive a more accurate statement while the bloodstream is not contaminated with sugars and other food products.

The young boy had deliberately taken his time in getting dressed and walking out the front door. But, Mr. Peabody, being the genius that he was, had been able to get Sherman into the sidecar of the moped.

Mr. Peabody looked down at his son, bearing a calm but stern look, "Sherman, the sooner we do this, the sooner you get to eat breakfast. You want your breakfast, don't you?"

Sherman mumbled a yes, still looking down at the shiny floor of the building. "Do we gotta do this?"

Mr. Peabody nodded, "Yes, we do. We need to make sure everything is all right with you internally. Never can be to safe. Now, come along." He grabbed the little boy's wrist and headed towards the elevator, which would take them to the Lab Office.

Sherman sat in one of the waiting chairs outside the office door. They were a few older people in front of them, so they would have to wait.

That was totally fine with Sherman. He hadn't wanted to come here anyway.

Sherman glanced at the clock on the wall above the door. 9:12. Sherman's stomach growled softly. He held his tummy with his hands, his face contorting in discomfort.

Mr. Peabody looked over at Sherman, noticing his facial expression. He set his newspaper down and turned to his son. "Sherman, are you all right?"

"I'm hungry."

Mr. Peabody sighed in relief, thankful it was nothing serious. "I know, Sherman," he patted his son's shoulder. "But, don't worry. They should be calling us in any - "

"Mr. Peabody?" A young woman stood at the door, a clipboard in her hand.

Mr. Peabody smiled, "Well, what punctual timing. Come along, Sherman."

Sherman gulped. He really didn't want to do this.

After a quick urine test (which I will not be sharing the details of), it was finally time to get the blood work done.

Mr. Peabody followed an older man into a room, with Sherman clutching tightly to his father's arm.

The doctor led them to the blood testing area, gesturing for each of them to take a seat.

The man sat down at the computer on the desk, opening up a file. "So, Mr. Peabody."

The white beagle nodded, "Correct, Doctor."

The man smiled, placing a hand on his chest in an apologetic manner, "Forgive me for not introducing my self. I am Henry Berinski. You may call me Dr. Berinski, or simply Henry. I have heard much about your exploits, Mr. Peabody. And, I must say, I admire your work."

Mr. Peabody smiled humbly. "Why, thank you, Dr. Berinski. It's most appreciated."

"My pleasure. Now, who is getting blood done today?" He adjusted his glasses as he looked at the computer screen.

"That would be my son, Sherman." He took away his paw from Sherman's grasp, the boy in question sinking into his seat.

Dr. Berinski smoothed back his salt-and-pepper hair, smiling down at Sherman. "Hi, Sherman. It's nice to meet you."

Sherman refused to look the doctor in the eye.

Dr. Berinski sat back in his chair, turning to Mr. Peabody, "First time?"

The canine genius nodded.

Dr. Berinski looked at Sherman apologetically, "I see. Well, don't worry, Sherman. It'll be over before you know it. It's nothing more than a pinch."

Mr. Peabody nodded, grabbing the boy's shoulders, sitting him up straight. "Yes, Sherman. A mere pinch. It will only hurt for a millisecond, maybe not even. You won't even realize it's over."

Dr. Berinski agreed, "Exactly. But, before we start, I need you to answer a few questions regarding your son's health."

After the question and answer session ended, it was finally time. Dr. Berinski took out a needle, cleaning it with a grey handkerchief.

Sherman's eyes lit up in fear upon seeing the pointy needle. They were going to stick that into his arm?!

"All right, now. If you and Sherman could trade places, we can begin."

Mr. Peabody nodded, "All right, Sherman." He got up from his seat. "Hop on up to the – " Mr. Peabody was forcibly cut off from his statement by Sherman tightly clutching his arm, not wanting to let go.

Sherman clenched his eyes shut in fear, "Don't wanna. The needle's too big."

Mr. Peabody sighed, prying Sherman off of him. He lifted Sherman's face with his paw to meet his eyes. It was time for a little pep talk.

He placed both of his hands on Sherman's shoulders, "Sherman, listen to me. You'll be fine. It's going to be nothing more than a slight pinch. You'll barely feel it. And, I'll be right there with. I can even hold your hand, if you want me to. It won't hurt, and you'll be perfectly fine. You have to trust me. Do you trust me?"

Sherman looked into his father's eyes. He could sense the truthfulness and warmth in the dog's eyes. He could trust Mr. Peabody. If he said he'd be okay, then he would be okay.

Sherman nodded shakily, "Yes, Mr. Peabody." He wrapped his arms around his father.

Mr. Peabody smiled, wrapping his own arms around his son. Dr. Berinski smiled at the scene.

After about a minute, they pulled away. Sherman smiled, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready."

Dr. Berinski smiled, putting on a pair of safety gloves. "Excellent. Just hop onto the chair next to the lab table. Your father can sit next to you."

Sherman took Mr. Peabody's hand and walked to the seat. He placed his arm on the lab table, taking another deep breath.

Dr. Berinski took Sherman's arm and wrapped an elastic band around it to help elevate the veins. He placed the needle on the mid-point of Sherman's arm.

Sherman glanced nervously at the big needle, holding Mr. Peabody's paw tightly.

"You don't have to look if you don't want to," Dr. Berinski suggested.

And look he did not. Sherman turned away, closing his eyes. Mr. Peabody smiled, his paw gently caressing his son's palm.

Sherman dared not move. He waited for the pinch, sincerely hoping it would be just a pinch.

"All done."

Sherman's eyes popped open. Done? He turned back to the doctor, watching him place a bandage on the small wound.

"That's…it?" Sherman was surprised, to say the least. He had felt a tiny prick, but he hadn't expected it to be that painless.

Mr. Peabody nodded, "That's it. I told you it wouldn't be that bad."

Sherman looked at the bandage in awe, "Huh. Wow, you were right."

Mr. Peabody chuckled, "I'm always right. Thank you, Dr. Berinski."

Dr. Berinski stood up from his seat after placing his tools away, walking over to shake Mr. Peabody's hand. "Think nothing of it, Mr. Peabody. Just doing my job. Enjoy the rest of the day."

"We will. Say goodbye to Dr. Berinski, Sherman." Mr. Peabody patted Sherman's back.

"Bye, Doc!" They both chuckled.

They exited the office, heading towards the exit.

"I'm proud of you, Sherman. You did well. What do you say we head to breakfast? King's Way Diner is only a few blocks away." Mr. Peabody looked at his son with expectant eyes.

Sherman's own eyes lit up, "Sounds good!"

With that, they exited the building, climbing into the moped and speeding off towards breakfast.