Chapter Text
Impressively, your decision to make a late-night escapade into the mines wasn’t the dumbest thing you’d ever done. No, that was reserved for letting Shane convince you to sneak ground up hot peppers into the soup at the Luau and watch as everyone—including the governor—ran for water with red faces.
It had taken you a full year of subtle gifts and pleading conversations to gain the town’s trust back.
The mine thing was a close second, though. It had already been a long and stressful day before you chucked your hoe to the side and grabbed the pickaxe resting on the patio.
First, a crow had gotten into the wheat and totally wrecked at least twenty bushels of it. It was only the second day of summer and you were already done with it. Wheat was cheap, and therefore you bought it by the dozen from Pierre. So you had a massive wheat field in front of your house, and you spent three hours struggling to set up sprinklers around the edges and water the crops that they missed by hand.
After that, Linus asked you to help him fish trash out of the river. Being the good friend you are, you sat next to him on the bridge to Clint’s blacksmith shop and cast your line.
Which would’ve been relaxing, if Vincent and Jas hadn’t showed up, Penny trailing behind. You loved the kids, but damn, they could be nuisances. Vincent had asked to hold your pole, just for a few minutes. Jas and Penny strayed into Lewis’s yard, where the Mayor was busy inspecting the dirt of his garden.
You had only looked away to check the sun’s position for a moment when a loud splash accompanied water soaking your feet.
In the blue depths below, Vincent’s head bobbed up alongside two shaky hands.
So you took an unwanted swim to drag the kid to shore before he was swept out into the ocean. But you totally lost your fishing pole, which sucked because it had been a thoughtful gift from Willy, and you weren’t very eager to upset the old man by admitting you’d lost it.
So by the time the sun began dipping below the mountains ringing Stardew Valley, you had stormed up the path behind your house. You waved hurriedly to Demetrius, who looked to be inspecting the leaves of a nearby shrub, before storming into the mines and slamming the elevator button.
You dropped down into rapid darkness. Luckily, you’d found a glow-in-the-dark ring that provided a faint yellow glow, and was enough for you to see where you were going. You slammed your pickaxe into rock after rock, decimating everything within sight.
You hadn’t even realized how totally exhausted you were until you heard the telltale squelching sound of one of the freaky green slimeballs that inhabited the lower levels of the mines.
And then suddenly your head was slamming into solid rock, pickaxe slipping from your fingers and consciousness slipping from your brain.
Marlon wasn’t one to venture into the mines very often. He and Gil had already had their fair share of adventures down underneath the surface of the earth.
But the notion that something down there was wrong had driven him down the ladders.
Just as he was about to ignore hi gut—something he didn’t very often do, considering his gut was commonly correct—he spotted the glow that always accompanied the farmer who lived outside of town. Cursing the mines, he drew his sword and made quick work of the slimes leering around their unconscious and hopefully not lifeless body.
Their pickaxe was a few feet away. He could return it to them later, he decided. For now, he needed to get them out of the mines and call the town’s doctor.
It had almost been a peaceful start to the summer for Harvey. He’d had an easy day at the clinic, with only Evelyn’s appointment, and a chat with Maru to fill the empty time.
Just as he was about to set down the book he was reading—some boring jargon-filled ledger about produce, something he wasn’t very interested in but wanted to have a basic grasp of in case the farmer ever asked him a question about it—the phone rang.
When you woke up, everything was simply too bright. Your legs were aching, a burning and hollow sensation eating through your stomach and every breath you took taking too much effort.
“Ah, y-you’re awake-?” The deep voice that floats in from above is laced with concern, its words more of a careful question. Your eyelids pop open. A familiar green sweater is the first thing your tired eyes focus on. Then the crisp doctor’s coat and the stethoscope hanging from a neck attacked to a square-jawed face with green eyes and a worried frown. Yoba, you’re fried.
“I’m awake.” You confirm, your voice scratchy and unused. Harvey’s frown lightens slightly. A second later the cold metal of his stethoscope is bleeding through the thin fabric of your shirt.
“Hold still and breathe in for me.” He instructs. You do as he says for a few beats. When he retracts the stethoscope and sighs, you speak up again.
“Uh, what happened?” You question. His eyes nervously dart away from your face. He always seems to have trouble with eye contact, bu you aren’t sure if that issue is exclusive to you.
“Marlon found you passed out deep in the mines. He brought you in late last night. You’ve been asleep for,” He checks the watch on his wrist. “Thirteen hours.”
“Thir- My fa-“ You sputter, your brain immediately slamming into panic mode. You try pushing yourself up onto your elbows, even though your torso burns in protest.
“Marnie fed the animals and Maru was happy to water all of your crops.” Harvey interrupts, one of his hands settling onto your shoulder. It’s warm, and larger than you realized. Not that you spend a lot of time looking at him or his hands. Definitely. You grimace.
He eases you back down against the thin but not uncomfortable cot. His hand returns to his side. You almost miss its comforting presence.
“You can go home tomorrow, I promise. But I want to keep you here another night, and you’ll be on bed rest for a week minimum.” He fidgets with the leather strap of his watch as he speaks, something you only notice because your eyes have totally betrayed you and curiously wandered towards his hands.
They snap back up to his face when his words register, however. “A week?” You demand, stopping yourself before you can try to sit up again.
His ears redden, green eyes anxiously meeting yours. “I’m sorry, but your legs are in no condition for any heavy-lifting. Not to mention the fact you’ve probably got a minor concussion from how hard you hit your head.”
You know you shouldn’t be angry at Harvey, because it isn’t his fault you were in the mines so late. You also can’t be mad at Vincent for losing your fishing pole, because, well, he’s just a kid and fueling all your pent-up rage towards him is totally unfair.
So you’ve only got yourself left to be furious with. You and your stupid decisions. You let out a low, defeated sigh, your eyes drifting shut. Your entire body aches. You don’t think that you could realistically take care of the farm right now, anyways.
“I’ll bring you some water and food, okay?” Harvey asks. You nod and listen to his footsteps as they retreat towards the front of the clinic. You wonder if he’ll bring you a straming plate of baked salmon from the Saloon. Likely not. You’re probably going to be stuck on a saltine diet for a while based off of how hollow your stomach feels.
Waiting for Harvey to return, you let your mind wander. The farm, Marnie and Leah helping out, Marlon finding you—Yoba, the old man must’ve been worried—, Harvey being such a great doctor, Harvey avoiding eye contact, Harvey touching your shou—okay, no, not working.
You should seriously forcefeed your brain more helpful things to think about.