The Sunday BBQ was supposed to be Mark's "victory lap," but by 4:00 PM, he was vibrating with a level of itchiness that felt like a thousand tiny needles under his skin. The "rebound" effect of missing his medication was brutal.

​Leo found him behind the grill, frantically rubbing his back against a wooden post like a grizzly bear.

​"Mark? You look like you're about to explode," Leo noted, his voice dropping the snark for a moment of genuine medical concern.

​"It’s back," Mark hissed, his face flushed and eyes bloodshot. "It’s worse. I think the ivy mutated."

​Leo squinted at him. "Did you finish the Prednisone pack? The taper?"

​Mark froze, his hand mid-scratch. "I... I felt better Friday. I skipped Saturday. And this morning."

​Leo’s expression shifted from concern to a terrifying, predatory glee. "Oh, Mark. You absolute idiot. You let the inflammation rebound. It’s a wildfire now." He checked his watch. "My clinic is three blocks away. Get in the car. We’re going to need a much bigger 'fire extinguisher' for this."

​

​The Oak Ridge Medical Clinic was eerily quiet. The fluorescent lights hummed, casting a harsh glow over the metal trays. Leo didn't go for the small cabinets this time; he went for the heavy-duty storage.

​Mark sat on the edge of the exam table, his heart hammering against his ribs. He watched, mesmerized by fear, as Leo lined up six large syringes on a sterile cloth.

​Leo picked up a glass vial of high-concentration acetate. "Since you can't be trusted with pills, we're doing a massive loading dose. This stuff is thick, Mark. It’s like injecting cold maple syrup into the muscle."

​Mark watched as the needle pierced the rubber stopper. The "schloop" sound of the thick, milky fluid being drawn into the barrel made his stomach flip. The needles were longer and thicker than the ones from Tuesday—gauges designed for deep, heavy-duty delivery.

​"Six?" Mark whispered, his voice cracking. "Leo, please. That's... that's too many."

​"Six," Leo confirmed, holding one up to the light and flicking the side of the barrel with a sharp tink. "Three for each side. It’s going to be a long night for your glutes, buddy." He looked at Mark and grinned. "You're shaking. Is the big, brave outdoorsman scared of a little bit of stainless steel?"

​"I'm not shaking," Mark lied, his knees literally knocking together.

​"Sure. And I'm the Pope," Leo teased, snapping on his gloves. "I haven't even touched you yet and you look like you’re about to faint. You want a blindfold? Or should I just get a bucket for the tears now?"

"Pants down, lean over the table. Grip the edges," Leo commanded.

​Mark obeyed, burying his face in his crossed arms. The crinkle of the exam paper sounded like thunder in the silent room.

​Injections One and Two: Leo didn't wait. He swabbed the first site and dived in. The thick medicine forced its way into the muscle, creating a heavy, throbbing pressure.

"Hnnngh—Leo, stop!" Mark gasped.

"Can't stop, gotta finish the dose," Leo murmured, moving to the second spot. "Wow, you’re already sobbing? We’re only at sixteen percent completion, Mark. Pace yourself!"

​As the third needle entered, the pain peaked. The "thick" medicine felt like a hot coal being pushed into his hip. Mark’s resolve snapped. A loud, blubbering sob escaped him, and the paper beneath his face became damp.

"There’s the waterworks!" Leo chirped, swapping syringes with practiced ease. "The BBQ guests are going to love this story. 'Local man defeated by shiny leaf, cries for his mommy at the clinic.' Keep those hips still, Princess!"

​ By the final two shots, Mark was a broken man. He wasn't just whimpering; he was mid-meltdown, his shoulders heaving with genuine, messy cries.

"Last one," Leo said, his voice dripping with mock-sympathy as he pushed the plunger down on the final 5cc of steroid. "Deep breaths. Think of sunshine and puppies... and how much of a legend you're going to be when I tell everyone you cried through all six."

​

​Leo withdrew the final needle and slapped a series of large bandages across Mark’s backside. Mark stayed face down for a long minute, his breath coming in shaky hiccups.

​"Alright, get up, big baby," Leo said, patting him on the shoulder—a little too hard. "The ivy is handled. Your dignity, however, is a total loss."

​Mark stood up, wiping his face frantically, his eyes swollen and red. "You're a sociopath, Leo."

​"Maybe," Leo laughed, stripping off his gloves. "But I'm a sociopath who just saved you from a week of misery. Now, let's get back to the party. I’ve got a very detailed performance review to give the rest of the guys."