Chapter Text
Shane was an asshole. And he knew it. And he liked to make it everyone else's problem. Especially the farmer's.
They were nice. But as previously stated, Shane was an asshole. They would come up to him and ask how he was, and most of the time they got cheap insults on good days and a nice ol' "fuck off" on bad ones. It got so in habit that the farmer learned to tell how his day was based on the responses.
The farmer had been willing to ignore a lot of the verbal abuse Shane gave them up to this point. Shane thought that maybe the farmer was okay with it since if that's the worse thing they had to deal with that day, it had been a good day. Especially since they seem to hunt him down exactly at 8:30 every morning Monday-Friday.
It used to be 8:40 when he would pass them as they waited for Pierre's to open on all but Wednesday. Some reason they would take the time to find him, and then walk with him up to Pierre's, and on Wednesday even walking all the way to JojaMart with him. All the while getting insulted and verbally abused by him. Except on the days that it seemed they knew he didn't feel like talking. Those days, they both walked in silence until they parted ways.
Shane would be lying if he said he didn't like walking with them. In fact, he does lie about it. Because he's an asshole. And yet the farmer always comes around to walk with him still.
It became routine in the few months they lived in Pelican Town. Walk to work, meet up with the farmer, insult them, part ways, go to work, do whatever Moris told him to do, leave, go to the Saloon, drink his life away, go home, drink some more, and pass out.
It was rare the farmer came to the Saloon, only really coming in to greet everyone and maybe pick up some food for dinner and go home. It was even more rare for the farmer to come to drink. And yet Shane stood in his usual spot watching the farmer packing away beer after beer.
...
It was a particularly hard day today. It was raining all day so you went to the mines to gather more stone and hopefully get some gems to sell. You had gotten a good haul and had good luck. That is, until you got to a level full of monsters. You barely managed to get out before getting too injured. When you were safe you patched yourself up some and evaluated your inventory. Which you quickly realized you were missing a good chunk of your haul due to the decent sized hole in your bag that a monster must've made. And of course it was the stuff of value or use that fell out.
You debated on going back to see if you could get some of it back, but the cuts all over your body, and the fact you think you might've fucked up your ankle while running away that made you just decide to cut your loses and go home.
You did just that and showered and put on new clothes and bandages. You organized what you did still have, and although it wasn't as much as the dozens of various gems you found adventuring the mines, you still had a few. If you didn't lose over half of them, you would've considered putting a few aside for Abigal and Emily as gifts, but you couldn't afford to now.
After laying on the floor of your little cabin in pain for awhile just staring at the ceiling, you decided to go to the Saloon.
You clattered in there and sat heavily in a stool.
"Oh, hey there farmer. How was your day?" Gus asked as he was serving Pam a drink.
"Hey farmer! How are you?" Pam asks clearly already slightly inebriated for it only to be seven o'clock.
You force a smile not wanting to seem like your complaining and just messing about. "Ah, ya know. Hard work. Everything hurts. But if the money's good then who cares?"
"Aye. Could drink to that." Willy says from the next table.
"You could drink to anything you drunkard." You joke. He laughs and raises his glass. "Speaking of drinks, Gus, wanna help an old friend out?"
He chuckles and passes a beer to you. You chug it as fast as you can. The warmth spreading from your stomach.
People kept approaching you and talking to you. You acted super nice and smiley, but all you wanted was to be left alone and get shitfaced.
That's when you locked eyes with Shane, who was pretty much playing a shadow next to the fireplace. In guise of going to talk to him, you sat in the stool closest to him with the forth or fifth beer you had ordered.
"What the hell you want?" He says rudely.
"If I'm being honest, I'm using you as an excuse not to talk to anyone else." You say. You were facing him in the stool and you had an elbow on the bar and your head in you hand, the other holding the handle of your mug. In this position, no one would come up to chit chat with you.
"What? Can't handle being the town's sweetheart?" He asks sarcastically, taking a sip of his own beer.
"Well, I'd rather be the town's sweetheart over being the town's asshole." You bite back.
He was a little surprised that you did, since up until now you always accepted his rudeness and never rebutted, but here you were, drunk, and fighting back. He might've liked it even based on the smirk that formed on his face.
You both kept bickering, beer after beer. And then Emily came over to chat with you for a bit. You smiled and was sweet as honey, but as soon as she walked away and you turned back to Shane, your smile dropped.
That's when he said it. The thing that mad you so fucking mad for some unknown reason.
"You are so fucking fake."
And to that, you grabbed him by the collar of his ratty hoodie and headbutted his face. Everyone looked at you in silence and shock. The first person to respond was Harvey, when he saw the first droplets of blood coming from Shane's nose. After that you were torn this way and that. People asking you what happened and what he said. You were so dizzy that when your vision started to go from blurry to black, you just fell like a log.
---
When you woke up, you were laying in the hospital room Harvey has at the clinic. You tried to get up, but you were severely hungover. You only managed to sit up. You notice your bandages were replaced and there was a brace on your ankle.
You heard voices in the hall. Well, more like a voice. Harvey's voice. You then heard footsteps and the room door opens.
"Oh, you're awake now, too? How are you feeling?" Harvey asks as he approaches you. He holds a pitcher of water and an empty glass and places it on the small table next ro you.
"Hungover as all hell." You say.
"Well, I saw how much you drank last night, so I'm not surprised. Was worried I was gonna need to pump your stomach." Harvey says. "Do you remember what happened last night?"
You put your hand to your head. "Kind of? I remember drinking and I remember talking to Shane. I don't remember much more. My head hurts. Did I hit it or something?"
"Well, you did. Twice in fact. The first time was off of Shane's nose and the second time being when you fainted and hit it on the floor." Harvey says. He poured you some water and hands it to you.
"I did what to Shane's nose?" You ask, taking the glass and taking a sip.
"You broke his nose."
Your whole body freezes, glass still at your lips. You got vague recollection of it the more you thought of it. You remembered he said something and you grabbed him and smashed your head into his.
"Shit." You say as you lower the glass.
"What exactly happened?" Harvey asks.
"I don't remember. I got mad and I was drunk." You say.
"Well, you probably should apologize. Especially, since it doesn't seem like Shane will tell anyone about it."
"What do you mean?" You look at Harvey, pinching your brows together.
"Shane is acting like it didn't happen. When I asked him while bandaging his nose he said 'What are you talking about? I hit my head,' and refused to say anything more. It seems like he doesn't plan on reporting you or anything." Harvey relays this information to you.
You pinch your nose. Damn it.
"Thanks for telling me. How much do I owe you?" You ask.
"Well, I didn't really treat you. I just pretty much had you brought in and made sure you didn't choke on your vomit, so absolutely nothing." Harvey says with a smile.
"Thanks, Harv. How about Shane's medical bill? I'll pay it off. It was my fault anyways." You say.
"I'll have to ask Shane first, and knowing him, he probably won't let you."
"I'll talk to him first. I have ways of convincing people." You say as you flip your legs over the side of the bed.
"Is breaking their nose one of them?" Harvey jokes with a chuckle.
"Only when I really want something."