Hello all! This will be a part of a series of one-shots, all revolving around the normal and yet not so normal life of Steve and Herobrine, and focus on the aspects of each other's lives they end up teaching one another.

If someone had come up to him a year ago and told him he'd be not only spending time—willingly!—around a mortal but also helping said human care for simple farm animals, he would have executed them in the most brutal ways he knew how. Such a notion was ridiculous and he'd never allow himself to stoop so low to a human's level.

In hindsight, that reaction seems a bit...extreme. He of all people knows how much can change over the course of just one year, and he is even the prime example of that. Whereas a year ago he'd been doing whatever he pleased with no regard to the consequences, he now spends his time with the only human he finds acceptable enough to be graced by his continued presence. And he'll be the first to tell, living around a human for an entire year really opens one's eyes to life.

Maybe he'd been a human at one point, in the beginning. Human's live extraordinarily boring lives though, comparatively. How many venture out beyond the neighboring biomes? How many stay within the borders of "safety" they so believe in?

Perhaps that was one reason this particular mortal is preferable to the rest. The house he's built sits in a forest, just at the edge of some plains, which stretch on for hundreds of blocks in front of it. Behind the house, a few blocks into the forest opens up into a vast desert, equally as large as the plains opposite it. Quite a distance to the left there are large, towering mountains, and to the right there is a jungle, dangerous and untamed and, like the mountains, filled with resources. It is the perfect location for an adventurer such as this human, who surpassed his expectations long ago and continues to do so to this day.

The man, a young miner named Steve who prided himself on his excellent work ethic and his moral sense of right and wrong, used to live from biome to biome, enjoying the natural beauty that came with living not on but with the land. He'd found it odd at first that a human as sociable as Steve didn't want to live with other humans, but eventually chalked it up to one of the many oddities about the miner he'd just have to deal with.

But the biome hopping had occurred mostly before he'd even known of Steve's existence. It was a chance encounter that led to their inevitable fates. And the human would be dead right now if he was anyone else, but as a special surprise, Steve just had to be who he was. Not only did they share a striking physical resemblance, but for the first time in over a hundred years, the moment he's alone after meeting Steve, who decides to come down from their high horse in the Aether and attempt civil conversation? If the Aether Gods think they can simply waltz into his life again, they are sorely mistaken.

Because if there was one thing Herobrine hates more than anything else in this disgusting world, it's the Aether Gods and "The Almighty Creator" who thought themselves so much more important and better than everyone else. So what if Notch created the world? That didn't give him the right to do whatever he damn well pleased, not when Herobrine was punished for the same thing.

But these were problems stemming from his anger issues, as Steve called them, and the miner was trying his hardest to remedy them. Anger was often the trigger to any confrontation he had, but he feels they're always for a good reason. He was, if anything, a fair person. When he slates someone to die, they deserve it.

It's something they're working on. To the contrary of his initial belief, it is surprisingly easy to integrate himself into this human's routine. Maybe it was just Steve or maybe there's some cosmic force at work(that isn't Notch, that man could rot in the Nether), but whatever the case may have been, it's working for them.

There are some things, however, that he still detests participating in. Human rituals that seem meaningless, and Steve insists on his "help," but Herobrine doesn't know what Steve expects of him. He will do what he wants if it suits his fancy, and not a moment before.

That is precisely why he's standing to the side as Steve cares for some farm animals. A few chickens and two cows are all that he's managed to corral so far, but they provide a sufficient amount of food. For one person, a small farm is easy to care for and efficient. Steve didn't keep items in excess. If he needs something, he goes to get it, whatever it may be.

Case in point.

"Just come on, I need some sheep and it'll be nice having some company for once. Plus if you help, that means more sheep."

Herobrine crosses his arms and makes no attempt to move from his spot next to the house. "No."

Steve's mouth falls open in disbelief at Herobrine's abrupt response. "What! Why not? At least come with me, you don't have to do anything but I like having company." He clasps his hands together in a pleading notion, hoping that, for once, Herobrine will accept his invitation. Usually the man is stout in his denial of everything Steve considers "fun" or even just "sociable." It is often hard to change his mind as well, that he had learned in the beginning.

Herobrine narrows his eyes as he contemplates going along. He supposes that a want for company is an adequate reason to necessitate his presence. "Fine," he accepts, uncrossing his arms. "If you feel the need for company, I will join you. But I will not assist."

"That's fine, that's totally fine," Steve acquiesces, turning to spot the sun's course in the sky. The sun is just about to reach midday height, leaving plenty of time for them to search out a few sheep in the forest. "I've already got some wheat," Steve says, starting into the forest. "So let's go."

Herobrine follows, as promised, but makes no attempt at conversation. It is something that became clear to Steve fairly early on that if he wanted Herobrine to talk to him, in any capacity, the words have to be forced out through a continued effort. Steve rarely succeeds in that endeavor, but sometimes he is lucky. Maybe that luck is still with him.

Before he opens his mouth to start asking questions, he is surprised into silence by Herobrine instead asking him a question.

"To what purpose do these animals lend themselves?" He asks, keeping his gaze on the treeline. They've yet to spot any sheep, not something entirely uncommon. Sheep seem to either exist in large groups or not at all, which made it difficult to find and herd them into a suitable location. If either of them are going to see a sheep any time soon, it's going to be Herobrine.

"You mean why do I keep them?" Steve clarifies. Herobrine does not answer, which gives him all the answer he needs. "I do it because they're great resources. Chickens give me eggs, cows give me milk, and sheep give me wool, not to mention the meat they provide upon death." He shrugs, glancing around in search of sheep but there are none yet, so he turns back to look at Herobrine. A question rises to his tongue, one that's been on hims mind for a long time. He's in a constant debate with himself whether or not he should ask it. With so much time to spare, he decides perhaps now is perfect.

"Can I ask you a question?" Steve ventures, testing the waters. It will be a shame if Herobrine shuts him down before he can voice it, but it wouldn't be the first time. Such happened a lot when they first met. He's happy to see that since then, Herobrine was warmed up to him.

"You just did," Herobrine says. It is not the answer he expected but it's a good sign. Herobrine might humor him.

"Did you..." he pauses, suddenly wondering if this is a good idea. It is a bit of a personal question, something Herobrine has been successful at avoiding the months they've known each other. While he freely shares his past, he knows very little about the man next to him.

Herobrine turns his attention from the search to Steve when the miner doesn't continue. He can see a clear look of debate as Steve struggles to ask him a simple question. He frowns. "Are you going to ask me a question or have you changed your mind?"

Steve decides, to the Nether with it, he'll go on ahead and do it. "Did you ever do any of this?"

There is silence for a few seconds before Herobrine says, completely serious, "Walking?"

The force of his laughter has him bending double to support himself on his knees. It is such an unexpected response from someone like Herobrine that he can't help the laughs and giggles that come out of him. He laughs for nearly a whole minute before glancing up and catching sight of Herobrine's annoyed face, particularly the heavy downturn of his lips.

Steve stands back up and wipes his eyes, trying to catch his breath. He knows this behavior annoys Herobrine but he can't help it. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasps out, finally settling down.

"I don't see the humor in this," Herobrine replies tersely, glaring. At one point, that glare was enough to give him nightmares for days, but now he feels oddly safe in its presence. He wonders fleetingly when the distinction occurred to him, and when Herobrine in general stopped being a threat to his life and instead a misunderstood, lonely man.

"I know, I'm sorry, really. I meant did you ever have to look for resources like this, like what we're doing? Did you ever have to herd cows into a pin or mine for hours looking for diamonds?"

Herobrine's severe expression lightens as he and Steve continue walking through the forest. He hears sheep to their right and sets them on that path, all the while turning Steve's question over in his mind.

"You are asking if I ever did what you are doing at this time."

"Basically, yeah."

Herobrine thinks back to his past...and immediately wishes to destroy the forest. His past is one soaked in anger, fear, and revenge, and something he does not like thinking about. While he can never run from it, he has done his best to forget the pain that laces those images.

He and Steve walk up a small hill, where sheep mill about in peace. Steve looks at him for a few moments, expecting some sort of answer, and when he gets none he leaves Herobrine's side to hold some wheat out to them. The sheep flock around him, each trying to obtain the treat held high above Steve's head. With the sheep now in tow, Herobrine starts walking back towards the house. Finally, he speaks.

"I don't remember," he starts softly. "My past is not one I look back favorably upon. There have been moments in my life that would have driven a human to madness, but I persevere, as I always will." He concludes, ending that conversation. It is not the complete truth, but neither is it a total lie. He has indeed forgotten most of his past, save the events that had shaped him into what he was known to be at the present.

However, there are a few select memories he holds in reverence. They are buried because they bring him happiness, of all things, and a powerful sense of regret, at which point he ceases contemplating memories that should have been forgotten worlds ago.

He remembers opening his eyes to the blue sky above. He remembers gathering materials to build. The land, back then, was different, in a way that is almost impossible to describe. Whereas now there are jungles and mountains and snow, then there was nothing. Or, perhaps there was. He does not know, only that if there were different biomes, they were few and far between. He remembers still creating tools for the first time, and building his first house, to gain shelter at night from the elements.

Coming up to Steve's house now, he stops short while Steve shuffles into a newly created pen, the sheep following dutifully behind. Herobrine observes the house, and like before, notices the familiarity behind its walls. It reminds him of his own first house: sturdy, homely, safe. A haven to escape to when the world simply didn't understand.

He senses eyes on him and turns to see Steve staring at him, a small smile on his face, which grows when he notices Herobrine's attention has turned to him. He holds out the wheat in his hand, still causing the sheep to clamber over each other, desperate for the chance at food. "Are you sure you don't want to help?" Steve asks, hopeful. It is a trait of his that might have contributed to Herobrine's opinion about the miner. He was happy to be alive and lived his life to its fullest.

"I am sure...but perhaps I can observe," he adds when Steve's smile falls. The look of genuine sadness present on one human's face is enough to make him rethink his previous offensive actions, something that would have been laughable a few short weeks ago. What it is about Steve that triggers these responses is just one part to a complex and engaging puzzle he's looking forward to solving. One step at a time.

As per his word he walks over to the pen, safe from the insistent farm animals as they push themselves closer to Steve in a futile effort to acquire the wheat clasped in his hand. The sheep are just shy of trampling each other when Steve finally lowers his hand into the fray. Within seconds he is relieved of it. He laughs softly at their antics as the few unlucky sheep who did not get to savor the delicious treat nudge up against his stomach and sides, sniffing for more. Steve reaches down to open a chest just outside of the fence pen, glancing up.

"Oh," he mumbles, standing back up with more wheat. He feeds the noisy animals mindlessly as he watches the sun start its descent below the horizon. While the sunset is beautiful, there is a more troubling matter occupying his mind.

He ducks his head a bit as he turns to look at Herobrine, smiling sheepishly. "I think I know the answer, but can you help me? The sun went down much quicker than I anticipated, and I still have to feed the chickens and cows. We can split up, I'll take the cows if you take the chickens? It's real easy, I swear. All you have to do is take some seeds from this chest," he kicks it in emphasis, "and throw them to the chickens. Easy, right?"

Herobrine raises a brow as his eyes slide over to the chickens. They wander aimlessly in their pen, occasionally pecking briefly at the ground, no doubt searching for any remaining morsels from the last feeding.

"You wish for me to throw food at animals?"

A breathy laugh escapes Steve as he climbs over the fence, straightening out his ruffled clothes. "Not at them, to them. Just throw it on the ground, they don't care."

A fair point. "I suppose it would not hurt to assist."

"Thanks man," Steve says, that jovial smile appearing once more. As he turns to tend to the cows, Herobrine searches through the chest and finds the aforementioned seeds. While tossing a few to the chickens, he gets lost in the thoughts that consume his mind.

Steve's question from early has stayed with him, distracting him from the world. He stares absentmindedly at the clucking chickens scrambling for food, a scene from long, long ago flickering over his present.

Chickens, in much the style of pen, cluttering around a gate as he stands before them, seeds in hand. Their is mirth in his eyes and a smile on his lips as he feeds them, affection heavy in his heart for the simple animals. He had been truthful to a degree when answering Steve's question, but even he doesn't know whether or not what he's seeing is his actual past. The memories are buried under hundreds of years of survival and tribulation.

When he pulls himself out of his revelry, it's to Steve waving a hand in front of his face. There are still seeds in his hand, and he tosses them onto the ground before blinking and facing Steve.

"What?"

As he drops his hand, Steve turns to gesture to the plains ahead. Herobrine can see skeletons and zombies leaving the safety of the caves to roam the land freely, no longer in fear of bursting into flames. A few of the mobs would have approached them, if not for his own influence over them. They are right to be weary around him. Herobrine understands the unspoken words. Steve does not wish to be outside while the mobs are out. While he knows they won't bother him while Herobrine is near, every human is ingrained with fear of them. It is irrational at times and highly bothersome, but it is something Herobrine has come to accept, at least in regards to Steve.

"I just didn't want to leave you here," Steve says, fidgeting as the mobs keep their gazes on him. They do not truly see Herobrine, having eyes only for the human next to him.

"Of course. I'm...sorry for disturbing you," he concedes, following Steve to the house. As is a custom of theirs now, Herobrine bids Steve a good night before taking a seat outside, on an overturned log. From the Nether he has brought a single block of netherrack, which he light using a flint and steel. He does not need the heat nor the light, not with his advanced and superior sense, but he knows the mobs are doubly unlikely to come close with the roaring fires as a detriment.

He reflects back on the day, on his initial distaste for caring after useless creatures and Steve's question from before, which he cannot get out of his head. Never before has anything troubled him longer than he permitted, but his mind seems fit to fight against him on this matter.

Memories still try to push their way to the forefront of his mind, each vying for his attention. Images flash by, too quick to properly observe yet just slow enough so he can see, so he can recognize what once was.

These episodes are not new to him. Once every decade or so his mind is overwhelmed by the world around it, and turns into itself, seeking a comfort Herobrine tended to keep far, far away. It was weakness, and unacceptable.

He closes his eyes and tries to think of the few things in this realm that calm him, that make him feel at peace. The memories, wild now and nearly untamable, are forced back behind a wall of cool breeze of the ocean, vast and great and free, a freedom he so enviously cherishes. The sky, blue, so blue and the clouds as they drift lazily in the wind, uncaring of where they end up. How can they stand to exist so unbothered by the world? And how can he learn to do the same? Unbidden, the image of Steve feeding the sheep and smiling that happy smile come to mind, and it is the last piece necessary to seal the unwanted memories back where they belong.

He glances back at the house and thinks of its single occupant, and smiles a small, secret smile. Today has been an education. He cannot wait to see what tomorrow brings.