Herobrine

Unseen pain

Steve woke up to brighter lights.

His hand twitched slightly before raising some inches off the ground in a feeble attempt to block out the light, before dropped back in a limp manner, and he squeezed his eyes shut and grunted. He was still on a bed, and there was a thicker blanket on him. He tried to focus on the air around him, and slowly opened his eyes once more.

He was in a smaller wooden cottage now, and the place looks different. There is a cauldron far in the corner, a random picture of a creeper on a wall, and a clock set nicely on an item frame, ticking ever so slightly.

The injured miner shifted, trying to kick the sheets off him, to no avail. He was too weak and too sore to move by now, and the wound on his stomach felt hurt and throbbing. Slowly, he move his hand on it, shakily trailing lines of cloth material, which he assume as bandages, on his wound. He blinked.

Ah, so someone did save him.

How unfortunate.

He leaned to the pillows and exhaled, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. His hand slowly moved to grab on the sheets and pull it closer to his chin, and he sighed blankly.

Why won't he die already?

"He'll be fine, after some days of drinking three drops of this potion diluted in a bottle of water, he will heal up,"

Joe nodded as the doctor took a bottle of glowing pink liquid and placed it on the counter. He then wrote on a label and places it on the bottle, and gives it to the villager. It was such a relief to find a village about 9 chunks away. It is deemed close, and they went on only a day journey, and thankfully they reached there at night and the place is surrounded by fences. The kind doctor had offered a bed for Joe to sleep in when he worked on Steve. He was in a terrible condition, and the wound had infected, but he was relieved Steve is okay now. He'll live, and that's enough. He doesn't want to see another friend die in his life, ever.

"He has slight fever, but he's alright."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Joe rummaged through his inventory and placed 9 emeralds on the counter.

"Here," He swallowed. "I'm short of money, I'm sorry... Haven't been mining and I just left my village."

"Ah, it is fine," The doctor smiled, taking the emeralds. "I won't charge you too much; in fact, I have just enough livestock and land to live off, anyway. The price is fifteen emeralds, but these are fine."

"I can't do that," Joe rubbed his head. "I'll pay you after I mined."

"You shouldn't" He laughed. "I've got enough."

Joe sheepishly smiled and muttered a small 'thank you'.

"There is one thing I wish to tell you, however," The doctor sat down. "I'm not a psychiatrist, and there are none in this village, but he seemed to be having PTSD."

Joe blinked.

"He... landed me quite a punch when I was about to start the surgery," the doctor said, rubbing his jaw when reminded of that painful uppercut. "I drugged him right after, but when I did, he kept trashing about and yelling."