This story contains spoilers for Shane's 4-Heart Event. Rating T because of the in-game content the story is based on.

Another meaningless day of work complete. Hooray.

Shane heard the sliding doors of Joja Mart zzzzzip closed behind him as he stepped out into the cool summer evening. He took a deep breath of clean country air in an attempt to purge himself of that awful Joja-brand scent that seemed to follow him everywhere. He wondered if it would help if he stopped wearing his Joja sweater all the time and maybe washed it occasionally… But that would require him to find something else to wear, and that was much more effort than he could care to put in.

He watched as the path underneath his feet changed from dirt to stone as he clomped across the river on the old stone bridge, then to cobblestone path. It had been a long day at work, just like always. Everyone talks about how Mondays are so terrible, but they always forget that Tuesday is just as bad, but even more hopeless somehow. Or was it Wednesday? Maybe it was Monday, and he had agreed to work over the weekend again for whatever stupid reason. He didn't really care. It didn't matter what day it was when they all felt the same anyway.

He turned off the cobbled path and followed the river down to the big blue house where a sweet elderly couple lived. The woman's name was Evelyn, but she had told him when they met that he could call her "Granny" if he liked. Shane never called her anything. The only reason he even remembered that story was because he had overheard the event repeated a few months ago with the sudden arrival of a young woman to town. She had left her life in some big city to work as a farmer in Stardew Valley. He had actually gotten to know her fairly well over the past few months, to no credit of his own. Despite his consistent rebuffing of her attempts at conversation, she had been shockingly persistent in elbowing her way into his life. Most people, if you answer their questions curtly enough, or ignore them altogether, they eventually give up and leave you alone. Not Lucy. Lucy was exceptional in many ways, not the least of which being her astounding ability to keep talking without any response or acknowledgement from her listener.

Most days, Lucy visited him at the saloon, where their mutual friend Emily worked. At first, he could tell he was an afterthought; she would come to visit Emily and toss him a smile or a funny quip before she left. But lately, she had learned when his shifts usually ended, and would meet him behind the Stardrop Saloon so that they could walk in together. He had hated the attention at first, but quickly discovered that it's extremely difficult to be cold to someone who is always so excited to see you. Now he secretly looked forward to the bubbling, stream-of-consciousness conversation she deluged him with every evening. Not only was it entertaining and often downright hilarious – sometimes simply due to the verbal speed she was able to achieve at times – it also helped to take his mind off the horrible daily grind in which he found himself trapped.

As he walked past George and Evelyn's quaint blue house on his way to the saloon, he lifted his eyes from the ground for the first time since he had hung up his tacky blue hat in the Joja Mart break room. Lucy wasn't in her usual spot, but listening closely, he thought he could hear her voice coming from the town square. Soon after, he spotted her, sitting on the ground a few feet away from the entrance to Pierre's General Store. With her was his cousin Jas; they were playing with chalk on the stones of the square, and based on the prolific quantity of displays in their impromptu art exhibit, it was clear that they had been drawing for quite some time. There was a sweetness about the scene. Bathed in the golden light of the nearly-setting sun, the pair had an ethereal quality, as though they were two beings from a different, more perfect world, and perhaps part the light that warmed the surrounding buildings was coming from them.

Quietly, Shane crept up to the edge of the house, trying to get as close as he could without being seen, so that he might be able to hear their conversation. He listened as hard as he could, but it appeared there was a lull in the conversation. Until suddenly, Jas spoke up.

"Lucy, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Lucy replied.

"What's wrong with Shane?"

Shane's stomach turned inside out. He was surprised that he happened to be the subject of conversation at the very moment when he showed up, but he knew exactly what she was talking about. Though he had been feeling especially terrible for the past couple of weeks, he had been trying his best to keep it together around Jas. But there had been an incident a few days ago that he hadn't been able to hide from her. Marnie had found him passed out cold on the floor of his room after drinking too much the night before. What's worse, Lucy had been there too. She was the one who had been able to wake him by emptying her watering can over his head. It was humiliating to think that she had seen him there, surrounded by empty cans, likely drooling filth into the carpet. But worst of all, Jas had been creeping in the doorway during his subsequent argument with Marnie, and she'd overheard him say some horrible things that he wished he didn't mean. He had been trying to put it out of his mind, but his own words still rang bitter in his ears:

"Hopefully I won't be around long enough to need a 'plan'…"

He felt like he was going to be sick. He wanted to turn around and run… maybe off a cliff, not that there were any of those in Stardew Valley. But he had to hear what Lucy was going to say. Jas had asked what was wrong with him. He needed to know just how terrible he had become in Lucy's eyes. He stared at her so hard he could feel his heart beating against the tension. When she heard the question, she looked up at Jas, her face dropping from its usual iridescent smile to a look of mournful sympathy. She sighed, pulling herself upright from where she had been colouring on the stones.

"There's nothing wrong with him, Jas," she said, eventually. "He's a responsible, hard-working person, and he cares about you very much. You know that."

Jas shook her head defiantly. Apparently, this wasn't a good enough answer for her.

"Auntie Marnie won't talk to me about it. There's something wrong; I know it! You can't hide it from me."

She looked up at Lucy, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Please, Lucy. I'm really scared."

Shane could hardly stand to look at her beautiful, innocent face any longer. He could never forgive himself for what he had said. The last thing a precious eight-year-old girl like her needed in her life was an idiot loser like him. He drew himself back behind the house, leaning against it and scrunching his eyes shut against the aggressive prickling sensation that rose behind them. Lucy's voice rang out again, each word carefully chosen and full of compassion.

"There's nothing wrong with Shane. But he's going through a hard time in his life right now. Growing up and making decisions are both really complicated things, and it can be harder for some people than for others. He's not really sure what choices he's going to make. But he'll be alright in the end; you'll see."

There was a long pause. All Shane could hear was the splashing of the river behind him and the singing of the birds in the trees. Neither girl spoke, nor did they continue colouring. Shane could hardly believe what he had heard Lucy say. He had expected her to lose all respect for him, and when she had shown up behind the saloon as usual the day after the incident, he was sure that she was still harboring a lump of resentment, distrust, scorn, anything… but based on what she was saying… it couldn't be. Was she defending him? He opened his eyes and peered around the corner again.

"How do you know that?" Jas seemed just as dubious as anyone else that there was anything but a bleak future in store for him. Well, anyone but Lucy, apparently.

"Because I went through the same thing," Lucy said, smiling warmly.

A look of confusion darkened Jas' face.

"Really?"

Shane could understand her bewilderment. He didn't believe it either. By that point, Lucy must have known better than anyone how absolutely miserable he felt. How could she, who had never been anything but a bouncing ball of sunshine in his experience, have ever felt anything even close to resembling depression? She giggled, low and sweet. Sunlight shone off her short, blonde hair as she flicked it out of her face.

"Well, everybody has a different story, so it wasn't exactly the same, but I used to feel just as lost as Shane does right now. I still deal with it sometimes. It's part of the reason I decided to move here. I'm getting a lot happier, and I know Shane can too. Especially since…"

Lucy paused and sighed.

"He's a good…" she stumbled over her words, "…he's a really good person."

Shane almost laughed out loud. Him? A good person? At best, he was completely inconsequential, a forgettable blotch in the history of a tiny country town. At worst, he was ruining the lives of everyone he cared about and who were stupid enough to care about him. Still, hearing Lucy say that made a miniscule drop of warmth soak into his heart. He had no idea what she had meant by what she said, but it clung there, secretly hoping for a reason to grow.

Jas was still not satisfied.

"But why was he on the floor? I know he wasn't sleeping. Was he sick?"

He cringed at her question. Lucy had done remarkably well so far at explaining his miserable life, but how was she planning on explaining to a child that he had gotten himself black-out drunk, accidentally or not?

Lucy picked at something on her hands, perhaps a fingernail.

"Kind of… He was just having a hard time taking care of himself that day."

"Why?"

There was a long pause. Shane's insides were twisting themselves in knots. All sorts of horrible thoughts were threatening to push though the borders of his consciousness, but adrenaline had made him too numb inside to acknowledge them. Nearly holding his breath in anticipation, he waited for Lucy's response.

Finally, she spoke up.

"Have you ever felt so scared that you didn't know what to do?"

Jas nodded. Taking a deep breath, Lucy prepared to continue.

"Well sometimes…"

Jas cut her off.

"Once I went on a trip down to the river with Vincent and Penny, and I turned my head for a minute, and when I looked back I couldn't see them anymore. And then I couldn't recognize where I was, and it was really scary.

Lucy nodded, a look of genuine sympathy on her face.

"Mm, that does sound scary. And what did you do?"

Jas furrowed her brow as she tried to remember the rest of the story.

"Um… I cried, until Auntie Marnie found me."

"I'm glad you were ok."

"Yeah."

Shane was in awe at the patience of this woman. Clearly this wasn't her first time working with kids. It's not that he didn't like talking with Jas, but it was different with Lucy. She wasn't even related to her. Shane felt that if he were in her position, he would have found a way to shut down the conversation ages ago.

"But what would you have done if Auntie Marnie hadn't found you?" She asked.

"Um…" Jas thought hard about this for a minute.

"It's hard to know, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"If it were me, I might have ended up doing something kind of dangerous. Like walk in the wrong direction or try to climb something too tall for me."

A pang of guilt rose in Shane's stomach. He could think of a million awful decisions he had made, and he felt as though she was calling him out on every single one of them.

"As a grown-up, it can be really hard to accept help from other grown-ups," Lucy continued, "and that makes it hard for people who love you to give you the help you need. And a lot of the time, when people aren't getting any help, they tend to make – pardon my language – some really stupid mistakes."

Jas giggled at the "bad word." Shane couldn't help but crack a smile, despite the repressed feelings chewing out his insides.

Lucy sighed again. She started gnawing on the side of her middle finger nervously. She pulled it from her mouth, her eyes downcast. Even when she was engaging in one of her distasteful habits, Shane still thought she had a sort of glow about her, like she had been sent by some mystic force to come take care of him and his little cousin. She dusted her chalky hands on her overalls, apparently tasting how dirty they had become.

"There are some scary things that Auntie Marnie just can't fix, even if she wanted to. Or you, or me, or anybody. It's up to Shane to make good choices. But we can help him by encouraging him when he makes mistakes and helping him up when he falls down… or forgets to get up in the first place."

It was almost more than he could bear. Why was she doing this? He was paralyzed by a mixture of guilt and the unfamiliar burn that had secretly been drinking up Lucy's kind words and taking hold of him from the inside out.

"But he's trying, ok, Jas? And he's not going to give up." Lucy reached over and swatted Jas' arm gently. "We're not going to let him, are we?"

"No." Jas didn't sound fully satisfied, but neither did she sound insincere.

"I still don't really understand…"

"I don't think any of us do really," Lucy replied. "All we can do is be patient and caring, and hope for the best. But he's not alone; there are a lot of people who care about him, and that's how I know it'll be okay."

Lucy's lips curved into a charming, crooked smile. Shane looked down at the sparse bits of grass growing under his feet.

"But what if he doesn't want us to help him?" There was a sadness in Jas' voice that tugged mercilessly at Shane's heart.

"Well, that's his choice in the end, really."

There was a pause. Lucy shifted the position in which she was sitting.

"But I think he understands a bit better now how much he needs his family."

"And you," Jas added flatly.

Lucy flushed and looked away. A fresh pang hit Shane's stomach.

"And… hah… and me I guess."

She giggled nervously, a common punctuation to her vocabulary.

"But you know him," she continued, once she had regained her composure. "You and your Auntie Marnie are extremely important to him. He's trying so hard, you have no idea. I told you, I know what it's like, and I can see how hard he's working. We just have to be there for him, and keep looking out for him, and he'll be just fine. Okay?"

"Okay."

Shane's hands were trembling. He couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken so kindly about him. For years he had been known as the sulky kid who didn't have a future. And it's not like he had done anything to counteract his antisocial reputation. He was used to people not believing in him. They were right not to. Goodness knows he didn't believe in himself one cent. But Lucy was right. He had been trying tremendously hard, and he realized just then how badly he had been craving recognition for his efforts. He tried to breathe slowly to collect himself, but each inhalation was jagged and rough.

Lucy's voice piped up again.

"I know it's hard to understand, but do you feel any better?"

Shane refocused his attention on the pair. Jas nodded.

"I think so."

Shane believed her. A wave of relief swept over him. Jas didn't hate him, she just wanted him to be alright. And now, hopefully, she was going to be alright too.

"Thanks, Lucy."

The smile returned to Lucy's voice.

"You're welcome. If you ever need anything else, please don't be afraid to come to me. I'm always here for you."

Jas looked slightly uncomfortable, as kids usually do when grown-ups say something like that.

"I'm going to go play with Vincent now."

"Ok, but make sure Marnie knows where you are. It's getting late."

Jas was already trotting towards the playground.

"She knows! I'm staying over at his house for dinner!" she called.

"Sounds good! Have fun!"

Jas was already too far away to respond. Lucy heaved a heavy sigh, and her eyes glazed over for a few moments. Shane became aware of how long he had been standing in one position and stretched out his limbs shakily. When he looked back at Lucy, she was collecting the chalk that she and Jas has been playing with and was putting it back in its bucket. It was difficult for him to tell, since her head was turned mostly away from him, but he thought he could see her muttering something under her breath, though he wasn't close enough to hear the tone of her voice. When she had collected all the pieces, she dusted her hands on her overalls again, and started walking south, past the saloon, and down towards the river. She paused, glancing back over her shoulder, then shook her head and continued out of his line of sight.

Shane felt utterly sick. He needed a drink. As soon as he was sure Lucy couldn't see or hear him, he stepped out from behind the house and made a beeline for the saloon. As soon as Gus, the bar's owner, saw him, he grabbed a bottle from behind the bar and handed it to him without him having to say a word. He already knew why he was there. Wearily, Shane reached for his wallet.

"Long day, huh?" Gus asked in a friendly voice.

Shane grunted.

"You have no idea."

All Shane could think about during his shift the next day at work was what he was going to say to Lucy the next time he saw her. She never missed her nightly visits to the saloon more than one day in a row, and since she technically hadn't come to see him the previous night, he was certain that she was going to show up. There were dozens of things he wanted to say to her; they had been battering his mind relentlessly since the night before. He wanted to ask her what her problem was, why she wasn't giving up on him like everybody else. He thought maybe he should tell her to get out of his life before she became the victim of too much collateral damage. But he knew deep down that she was more important to him than he would let himself admit. He could never say something like that to her, and if he did, he didn't know what he would do if she actually took his advice.

On the other hand, he wanted to somehow express to her just how much of an impact her kind words had had on him. He played it out in his mind, telling her exactly how he felt to the best of his ability, trying to picture her response… and knew he wouldn't be able to say anything like that either. It wasn't that he didn't think she would respond well; he just wasn't bold enough to be that upfront with his feelings. He was no Lucy, that was for sure. But what he really wanted more than anything else was to thank her for talking to Jas. Though the consequences of his outburst had been far too much for him to even think about, they had been weighing heavily on his subconscious. It relieved him greatly to feel that Jas was going to recover mentally from the event, and he knew that he could have never been the one to help her. Moreover, it was touching to him that Lucy cared about his little cousin. She was right; even if he didn't show it very well sometimes, his family was deeply important to him, and anyone who cared for them made a difference in his life as well.

Eventually, he forced himself to stop looking at the clock altogether. Every time he did, it seemed that absolutely no time had passed at all, and he knew if he kept it up, his shift would feel like an eternity. The work day was dreadful as usual, but part of him was afraid for it to be over, because it meant he would have to face Lucy, and that would mean thinking of something to say. His heart beat in his throat just thinking about it, but there was nothing he could do to distract himself.

At long last, he noticed the cashier closing down the check out counter, and he knew it was time to go. With quaking hands, he hung his hat back up in the break room before walking stiffly past the horrid shelves of imitation goods and out through the unsympathetic sliding doors. The country air felt good on his face. The expanse of dimming blue sky above him made him feel a little bit braver, but not by very much. Every sound stimulated his senses; even though he was only walking the same path he always took, it felt like a bold quest through unknown territory. He turned the corner around George and Evelyn's house, and saw Lucy milling about behind the saloon, just as he had anticipated.

A fresh jolt of adrenaline slapped him at the sight of her, making him feel sick to his stomach. He still had no idea what he was going to say, but seeing her standing there so faithfully, he knew he had to say something. At very least, he had to thank her for looking out for his cousin. She was talking to Alex, the teenage grandson of the elderly couple who lived in the blue house, but as he approached them, she turned towards him, a brilliant smile on her face.

"So how was work?" She called playfully before he was even close enough to sustain a conversation. She was rocking back and forth on her heels, her hands tucked into the pockets of her overalls.

Shane didn't respond. With his head lowered, he nodded towards the back of the saloon and motioned with his hand.

"Can we… ?"

Lucy's face dropped into neutral curiosity.

"Of course," she said, quietly.

She waited, still fidgeting with her hands, as he caught up to her, then followed him as he lead them all the way behind the saloon where they could speak in semi-privacy.

It was now or never. He had to say something; he couldn't say nothing. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to speak:

"Thank you for talking to Jas."

Lucy looked surprised.

"Oh, no problem! I was happy to. Did she tell you… ?"

He shook his head.

"No, I overheard."

Lucy laughed nervously. She started moving in place, her eyes flicking around the scenery, only resting on him for a couple of milliseconds at a time.

"Oh, hahaha… I hope I didn't say anything too bad… I have a tendency to say stupid things. I mean, I tried to say everything right, that would make her feel okay. And I think she feels better. I don't really know, but I hope – "

Shane could tell her internal energy had been cranked up a few notches above normal. He didn't give it too much thought. It happened from time to time. He felt no guilt about cutting her off; she was rambling at that point anyway.

"No, no you don't. What you said was great."

Lucy stopped moving. He could feel her bright blue eyes watching him intently. He wanted to say more. Thoughts screamed in his ears so loud he couldn't hear anything they were saying. He opened his mouth again to try to put into words what he was feeling.

"No, some of the things you said made me…" He stopped. He didn't know what he was doing. He scrambled for words, but none came. He tried again.

"I mean, they were really… they were…"

He had been glancing around at the ground, but in a last ditch effort to communicate, he looked into Lucy's eyes, hoping she would somehow know what he was trying to say. But their eyes met, something about her kind earnestness made him lose his cool entirely. For the second time in the past two days, he felt a prickling sensation behind his eyes. He couldn't be crying in front of Lucy, he just couldn't!

"Argh!"

He grunted in frustration and threw his hand over his eyes aggressively. Why couldn't he communicate like an adult? Why was everything about life so hard?

Lucy's voice cooed sympathetically out of the darkness.

"Oh, Shane…"

Before he had time to react, he felt a pair of warm, gentle arms slip around the sides of his worn-out Joja sweater. Lucy pulled him into a tight embrace, her cheek pressed against his right shoulder. Wiping his eyes, he dropped his arms down to her mid-back and drew her closer to him. He hooked his chin down so that it was almost touching the nape of her neck. Her blonde hair ticked his face, as if without even trying she was brushing away any rebellious tears that threatened to break his composure. Immediately, his mind cleared. The thoughts that had been screaming at him whimpered away into oblivion. He held on tight to Lucy; it was the only think he could think to do.

For a second, he was keenly aware of the way her body felt pressed against his. But he brushed the thought aside. In his heart, the drop of warmth planted there by her kind words the day before had expanded into an unexplainable, searing pain. It felt like the opposite of heartbreak; it was the kind of pain that lets you know that you're being pulled back together. He took a deep breath… then let it out in ragged, heavy blocks. Lucy made no sign of letting go, and he took advantage of her generosity. He needed it. He couldn't remember the last time he had hugged a girl – or anybody really. He used to be so close with his family. Had it really been so long? No wonder his aunt was worried about him.

When he finally pulled away, Lucy rested her hand on his shoulder, stroking it with a tenderness that sent shivers down his spine. Now he was able to look her in the eyes – he felt like he didn't have anything he could hide if he wanted to. There was no hint of judgement in her face, or even pity.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nodded his head. He was exhausted, but he felt like she understood him well enough for the time being. She slid her hand down his arm, her fingers releasing contact with his sweater as lightly as feathers being picked up by the wind.

"Do you want to come inside and watch me suck at Journey of the Prairie King again?"

Her smile was contagious.

"Sure," he said. His voice was gruff, but steady.

Gleefully, she lead him back around the saloon through the front entrance. The dim lighting helped to mask the redness in his face, or at least he hoped it would. After grabbing a beer and a stool from the bar, he dragged the latter over to the games section, where Lucy was already attacking the controls of the arcade machine with gusto. He took a seat and watched her, sipping slowly at his drink. A sense of bizarre calm fell over him as he watched her die to the brutal difficulty of the game time and time again.

"Oh, come on!" she shouted. "They ganged up on me! That's not fair! You saw them!"

Time stood still as he took in her animated features and the jaunty bleeping music of the game. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so serene. He felt like he could probably sit there as he was forever.

Then, without a warning, a tiny voice spoke up in his heart, one that he hadn't heart in a long, long time, and almost didn't believe he was even capable of hearing:

"It's going to be okay."