Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“I still think you’re insane for wanting to do this.”

Steve scoffed, stepping back from his project and admiring the gleaming structure of obsidian with triumph. It had taken him a week to both find diamonds for a pickaxe and mine the obsidian, but he’d done it. After convincing himself to go to the Nether, no amount of naysaying was going to change his mind.

Alex had humored him when he’d pitched the idea to her, but had she’d known he was actually going to do it, she would have put effort into trying to convince him that it was a bad idea. For whatever reason, she despised the Nether, shooting down his offers for her to join him before he was fully finished speaking. She refused to even think about going, and Steve wasn’t going to push the subject if she felt so strongly about it. He was surprised that an adventurer such as Alex would shy away from the chance to explore something as notorious as the Nether, but she was adamant in her refusal.

It didn’t bother Steve too much, considering he was going to go either way. While he would have liked to have Alex with him to both watch his back and offer her company, he was comfortable with the idea of going alone.

And now finally the portal was ready. All he had to do was light it.

“Of the two of us, you’re the one who’s acting crazy. I mean, how could you not want to explore the Nether? It’s the Nether.”

Alex just gave him an unimpressed stare. “Exactly.”

Steve shook his head, walking to the side where he’d set down a chest. Inside was a beat up set of iron armor, well-worn and scuffed to hell and back. It had served him well for the last several months, and depending on how this trip went, might be due for an upgrade soon.

He slid on each piece and completed the look with an iron sword at his hip. The bundle on his opposite hip had some bread and apples, some torches, one potion of healing, and two potions of fire resistance, which Alex had surprised him with and which had cost her a small fortune. Potions using ingredients from the Nether tended to be more expensive for the simple fact that no one wanted to go to the Nether to retrieve said ingredients when stock was low. Alex had practically forced the potions onto him, threatening to sabotage his portal if he wasn’t prepared properly.

For someone who seemingly hated the Nether, she was awfully knowledgable about it.

The last thing in the chest was a flint and steel. Feeling confident, he picked them up and walked back over to Alex.

“Are you suuuuure you don’t want to come with?” He offered one last time. She shook her head.

“No thanks. If you die, someone has to remember you.”

“Ha ha.”

“Though, if I can’t convince you to back out, I do have some requests—items that would really help the village if you can find them.”

Steve repressed a sigh. He didn’t care much for the village that Alex frequented, simply because they didn’t care much for him, but he did care about Alex, who was his first and only friend. She had apologized on their behalf numerous times but Steve had told her it wasn’t a big deal. Having come to terms with villagers’ aversion to him long ago, it no longer bothered him. If anything, he preferred it this way now. He didn’t want to be around people, and people didn’t want to be around him. A win-win.

“I’ll try to remember, granted I’m not too busy running for my life. What are they?”

Instead of telling him, Alex handed him a list. Huh. She must have made the list after realizing her attempts to dissuade him were useless.

The list contained potion ingredients, just like he’d expected, with nether wart circled and highlighted. He stashed the note in the bundle.

He stepped up to the portal and before he could think too much about it, struck the flint and steel together at the base. The second the sparks made contact with the obsidian, a shimmering purple film materialized. It was mesmerizing, and more than a little intimidating. The sounds alone were sometimes enough to make adventurers change their mind.

Steve took a deep breath as he shoved the flint and steel into the bundle. He looked back at Alex and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“You better be. Good luck.”

With a final nod, he turned and jumped into the portal.

The next thing he knew, his head was swimming and it was hot.

Like, really hot.

Eyes closed and taking deep breaths, he waited for the dizziness to recede before standing and taking in his surroundings. The first thought that immediately came to mind was that there was a lot of red. Like, an absurd amount. It made judging distance almost impossible, made his visible surroundings appear barren. But, as he discovered by walking forward a little, that was not the case. Because in front of him was a cliff, at the bottom of which was an ocean of lava.

He felt lightheaded from the scale of it. There was more lava down there than he’d ever seen in his life. It was mind-boggling, that something like this could exist.

Backing away from the cliff, he took in his surroundings again, this time with a more critical eye. The portal was in what Steve could only relate to a Nether version of a plains biome, given the lack of anything at all. Though, way above him was a layer of netherrack, so perhaps he was in a cave?

On the other side of the lava ocean was more ground, but he had no way of crossing to it, so he turned around. He couldn’t quite make sense of what the geometry was doing—it seemed like he was in an open area, but on one side there was an outcrop, and beyond that, more open space.

He decided to just ignore it. If he couldn’t understand, he wouldn’t try to. He wasn’t there to investigate the impossible geometry, after all.

While he didn’t technically have a purpose in the Nether, he would use Alex’s list as a to-do list. He was secretly grateful for it—beyond just being in the Nether, he hadn’t thought ahead of what he’d actually do. So having direction definitely made it worth it.

After walking the edge of the area he’d appeared in, he discovered he was on an island of sorts. Completely surrounded by lava on all sides save for one, which had a narrow bridge he was able to cross with much trepidation. Nothing had happened yet, and it was putting him on edge.

The only thing he’d actively researched about the Nether were the mobs, and how prevalent they were. Unlike the Overworld, in the Nether mobs were always everywhere, as there was no perceivable day and night cycle.

But as he passed over the bridge and walked farther away from his portal, there still was nothing to meet him. No ghasts flying around, no magma cubes, no zombie pigmen. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the Nether was abandoned.

Well, better not look a gift horse in the mouth. He took out a torch to start marking a path from the portal, but as he crested a small hill, he found he didn’t need it. Because there, placed innocently in that huge ocean of lava, was a Nether fortress.

He stared at it in dumbfounded amazement, wondering about his luck. Nether wart was the only thing that Alex really wanted him to bring back—if the note was anything to go on—and it could only be found in a fortress. And here one was, not even 100 feet from his portal. 

Well. Gift horses and all that.

The area he was on now connected conveniently with one of the many narrow walkways that extended from the fortress. His instincts told him it was manmade—the way the netherrack was formed, as if reaching for the nether brick, was too unnatural, even for the Nether—but he had no better ideas of getting into the fortress, so he proceeded with caution.

As he walked he half expected the ground to give out any second, but he made it unhindered to the fortress proper. It was still eerily silent, so much so that he almost turned back.

He’d thought the Nether would be full of life and motion and action, and though the mobs were dangerous, he thought he might prefer if that were the case, instead of this dead, empty wasteland. Either reports of the Nether had been greatly exaggerated, or something was going on, because this was simply not right.

Since he’d managed to find a fortress so easily, he resolved to getting some nether wart and getting out. His curiosity had been satisfied—for the moment—and now he wanted to return to the Overworld and actually do his own research, and ask Alex if what he was experiencing was normal. But, nether wart first.

According to Alex’s note, nether wart was found in a specific room in a fortress, one with a staircase.

Looking around, there was one small structure directly in front of him. More pathways lead away from it, all of them except the one behind him seemingly leading to a sheer drop into lava. Having no other options, he entered the building.

Which turned out to be nothing much, simply an empty room with a steep staircase leading down. Taking a deep breath, he drew his sword just in case and descended.

It wasn’t as long as he’d thought, just one story down, though the inside of the fortress looked incredibly different than what he’d been expecting. The topside more closely resembled his expectations, the inside looked...lived in.

There were lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and a red rug in the middle of the hallway. Paintings lined the walls. It was like he’d walked into someone’s house.

This...well, he didn’t think a fortress was supposed to look like this, but having never been to one before, he couldn’t know for sure. So although his instincts were telling him something was definitely wrong, he proceeded with caution anyways.

The hallway turned and split and he ran into several deadends, but it remained the same. Same red carpet, same lanterns, same painting placements. After about ten minutes of wandering he felt thoroughly lost, and was sure he wouldn’t be able to find the same place he’d entered from.

“What the fuck is going on?” He muttered to himself. Of course, just as he said that, and as soon as he fully rounded the next corner, he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes going wide.

The skeleton standing in the middle of the hallway was the biggest one he’d ever seen, towering over him by at least three feet. It’s bones were blackened, as if it’d been burnt, and it was carrying a stone sword, which had never looked more dangerous than it did in that thing’s grasp. It was staring straight at one of the paintings, of which depicted a dark figure with three heads. Almost at the same time, Steve looked at it’s face and it looked away from the painting, right at him.

Steve held his breath, not daring to move a muscle. As much research as he’d done about the mobs, he didn’t remember the best course of action when dealing with a wither skeleton. Did he run immediately? Was it okay to turn his back or did it not matter? Should he attack first?

Fortunately, the decision was made for him. Unfortunately, it was because the wither skeleton bolted towards him without preamble. They were a lot closer than they probably should have been, and it was a lot faster than Steve expected it to be, so he was only able to stumble back in a blind panic as it rapidly closed the distance and swung it’s sword at him. The attack was haphazard and Steve was able to prevent a fatal or incapacitating blow, but the sword still managed to hit him, hard enough that it felt like his bones rattled. His poor, overused iron chestplate cracked at the point of impact, right down the front. The blow knocked him into the wall behind him and his head banged uncomfortably against his helmet, but he shoved the pain aside and pushed away from the wall, barely dodging a follow-up strike as he started running.

He could hear the wither skeleton give chase, and so he made several random turns and got himself even more thoroughly lost, until the sound of the bones rattling faded away. Slowing to a stop, he used the opportunity to take deep breaths. His heart was racing and each breath sent a sharp pain through his chest, but he was out of danger for the time being.

After he caught his breath, he examined his chestplate. It was like a vest now, exposing his chest and fitting awkwardly to his body. It was more of a hinderance now that it didn’t fit properly. He couldn’t even lift his arms fully. With a sigh he started taking it off. Halfway through, the sound of approaching footsteps and rattling made his head snap up, heart instantly beating double time. He was only partially out of the chestplate when the wither skeleton rounded the corner and beelined for him. He let out a yell of fear and struggled to reach for his sword, managing to pull it out at the last moment to block the skeleton’s attack.

Only, the strength behind the blow was again stronger than he expected, so the skeleton’s sword slid against his briefly before sliding off entirely and slashing across his opposite arm. He hissed in pain and stepped back on instinct, accidentally allowing the skeleton the opportunity to take a jab at him. He tried to dodge, but the blade tore through his shirt and side, slicing a jagged wound along his waist.

He yelled out in pain and, fueled by a self-preservation induced fear, found the strength to jab his sword right into the skeleton’s shoulder joint and twist, popping the arm holding the sword clean off. The arm and sword clambered to the ground and the skeleton froze, staring down at it’s own arm. Steve was staring too, surprised he’d managed to do it, but when the skeleton started to lean down, he hastily discarded the chestplate and started down the hall, gritting his teeth as his movements pulled at the cut. It didn’t feel deep but it stung like a bitch and was bleeding into his shirt and jeans, making them feel tacky.

If he didn’t find this nether wart in the next couple of turns he was going to cut his losses and find his way out of here. He could come back with better armor and maybe a bow, and definitely with a map.

He was so preoccupied thinking of a better way to go about exploring the Nether that he didn’t notice the other until it was too late. He collided with something hard and would have fallen backwards on his ass if not for the strong grip to his upper arms. He immediately made a sound of pain when the grip squeezed over the slice there, and then the hands fell away as he looked up to see what he’d ran into.

And—

Oh no.

“Why are you here?”

Steve could only stare wide-eyed and opened mouth. The clear irritation in the voice was reflected on the face of the man he’d collided with, who was staring at him and looked as unhappy as someone could. Steve was sure he looked ridiculously stupid as he gaped unabashedly, but he knew this man, even if he never believed him to be real.

Maybe the wither skeleton had actually killed him and he was dead, because that was the only possible explanation for why Herobrine was standing in front of him, staring at him like he was a particularly disgusting piece of trash.

“You’re—Y-You’re—!”

Herobrine’s expression of disdain deepened. “Why. Are. You. Here?”

Before Steve could answer, the wither skeleton caught up to him. Its arm was still missing, the sword clasped in its other hand. But it stopped a number of feet away, going from a dead sprint to completely motionless. Steve stared wearily at it, wincing when Herobrine pushed past him to put himself somewhat between Steve and the wither skeleton.

Nothing happened for several moments wherein Steve looked back and forth between the two of them, then startled when the skeleton abruptly turned and marched away. Steve watched it disappear around a corner, and when he looked back to his present situation, Herobrine was already staring at him. 

“Am I going to need to repeat myself?” He said, and Steve’s mind was still trying to get past the fact that Herobrine was apparently real and standing right in front of him.

Holy shit!

“Uh...” He was drawing a blank, but at the growing anger on Herobrine’s face, his brain finally caught up with him. “I’m looking for Nether wart?”

Herobrine frowned. “Is that a question?” Then he stepped back and looked Steve up and down. “You should be looking for a new set of armor—yours is horrendous.”

Steve felt his face grow hot in embarrassment, suddenly self-conscious. He didn’t know why, since he was still pretty sure he was dead or at the very least knocked out and dreaming.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Herobrine held up a hand to stop him. “You know what? I don’t care. If I give you some nether wart will you leave?”

It was definitely what he wanted, but now that this was a thing, he found himself curious again. Knowing him, he would be back. But he did need new armor, that much was true, so he nodded. “Yeah. But I’m supposed to get some for a village so...”

Herobrine sighed with a sneer. “Do you not grow the nether wart in this village of yours?” Herobrine abruptly started walking, forcing Steve to scramble to keep up with him. He grimaced as the movement pulled at the cut on his side, but it didn’t feel like it was bleeding anymore. As soon as they got to...wherever they were going, he’d have to try to remember to drink the healing potion.

Herobrine’s question came as a surprise to him. “I didn’t know nether wart could grow in the Overworld. And it’s not my village, I’ve only been there two or three times, though I don’t remember seeing any nether wart growing there.”

Herobrine muttered something that sounded rude, but Steve couldn’t quite make out what it was. He narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. They lapsed into a silence as Herobrine lead him through the hallways.

He was starting to think this was real, and it was almost too much for him to wrap his head around. Herobrine, the villain of practically every child’s tale parents used to keep their kids in line, was in front of him, living and breathing and...kind of an asshole, to be honest. He didn’t have to help Steve, not if the whole thing was so damn inconvenient for him. Although Steve supposed he was lucky—if those child’s tales had a lick of truth, Herobrine should have already killed him and eaten his eyes, or something equally horrible. But he seemed civil enough, if not rude as all hell, so Steve would keep an open mind about him.

(But he was still half convinced he was hallucinating the whole experience.)

After not too long they came upon a set of double doors. Herobrine stopped right outside them and gave him a hard look. “Stay here and don’t move.” He walked through the doors before giving Steve a chance to respond.

Huffing, Steve decided now was as good a time as any to take that healing potion. He dug it out of the bundle and downed the whole thing in one go. It had a pleasant watermelon taste and he felt a lot better afterwards. The cut on his arm healed entirely and the cut on his waist was little more than a deep paper cut. His shirt was utterly ruined and he felt weird wearing everything but a chestplate, but there was little he could do about it now.

Herobrine returned after a bit, shoving another bundle into his arms. “Here, some nether wart and a lot of soul sand.”

Steve opened the bundle to look inside. The nether wart was resting on a dark sand, the patterns of which looked more and more like tormented faces the longer he looked. Ill at ease, he closed the bundle and affixed it next to his other one.

“Er—thanks. But how—“

“Just plant the nether wart on the sand like you would any crop on dirt. So easy even you could figure it out.”

Herobrine started walking again, this time back the way they’d come, and Steve glared at his back the whole way but said nothing. Don’t get him wrong, he was glad Herobrine wasn’t actually some sort of murderous psychopath, but the guy could use a few lessons on how not to be a total dickhead.

After what seemed like much too short a walk, Herobrine lead him into the room he’d entered the maze-like hallways from. The fortress was a lot bigger than he’d made it out to be, as he only remembered taking one or two turns from the double doors to here, but he’d been lost in the winding corridors for a while before encountering anything.

Herobrine didn’t pause in the room, instead he climbed the sheer staircase and was waiting at the top for Steve.

“Where’s your portal?”

The walkway in front of them was the one leading back to netherrack, making the portal that direction as well. It wasn’t visible but Steve pointed anyway. “Over that hill.”

Herobrine grabbed his arm and then—

The greatest wave of vertigo he’d ever experienced crashed into him. For a moment the ground dropped out from under him and his lungs felt like they were being squeezed by an iron fist, then everything righted itself in a snap. He gasped and fell to his hands and knees, grimacing as he was nearly sick.

Luckily the feeling of his insides doing somersaults passed quickly, and he stood on shaky legs. Herobrine was glaring at him, arms crossed. “You’re welcome. Don’t come back.”

Between one blink and the next he was gone. Steve startled, looking around, but he was alone.

If not for the obvious signs that everything that had just happened had actually just happened—his missing chestplate, tattered shirt, and extra bundle—he might have been inclined to write the entire experience off as a vivid hallucination. But everything had happened, and that meant...

As he stood in the portal to be transported back to the Overworld, he looked in the direction he knew the fortress to be.

Oh, he was definitely coming back.

Chapter Text

After talking to Alex, Steve learned that his experience was definitely not normal.

As much as Alex hated the Nether, she had done a lot of research to come to that conclusion, so the fact that he reported a complete absence of mobs stumped her. She also told him it was clearly a red flag and he shouldn’t return, but he had made no promises.

She hadn’t seen his sorry state when he’d returned and he hadn’t seen fit to tell her all that transpired, though he had to come up with an excuse as to why he’d bothered grabbing the soul sand. It was surprisingly easy—“It grows on soul sand doesn’t it?”—and though Steve was surprised that apparently nobody had thought to take the thing nether warts grew on, he probably wouldn’t have either.

But the next day she had practically tackled him and thanked him, because now the village could make more potions more often. They had given the credit to Alex and hadn’t let her explain, but Steve just shook his head. It didn’t matter who got the credit, especially since it wasn’t even him to come up with it.

As the days passed and he busied himself with finding and smelting enough iron for a new set of armor, his mind kept drifting back to Herobrine.

It was still so shocking, to have encountered a legend he was sure wasn’t real. It raised a ton of questions. How was he real? And why was he in the Nether? Based on the tales, he should be rampaging around the Overworld causing mass destruction and/or hysteria, or lurking in the darkness to steal away wayward travelers. Instead he was, what—wandering the Nether and living in solitude in a fortress? Why?

He tried doing research, but he couldn't find anything he didn't already know. Nothing about how Herobrine came to be, or why he supposedly did the things he did. There wasn't even information about when he showed up. Every report or journal or recount he read just stated that Herobrine was evil and only caused death and destruction, blah blah blah.

Those questions were on his mind until finally he was ready with a new set of armor to try again. Instead of nerves, this time he was filled with giddiness. Despite having only encountered the one mob and having failed miserably at fighting it, he did feel a little more equipped to handle a second visit. He wouldn’t underestimate any mobs—if he even saw one. If he hadn’t been in an enclosed space against that wither skeleton, he was sure he would have been able to outrun it.

Alex was less insistent on him not going, since his trip had yielded good and he hadn’t died or been horribly injured. She had promised to look after his stuff until he returned but she was distracted their entire talk, making lists and cataloging potion ingredients, so he left with a smile. He was glad—way deep down—that he’d been able to help the village, even if they wouldn’t thank him or even believe he’d been the one to do it. The pain of rejection and loneliness was an old wound that ached every now and again, but he had Alex, and her company helped.

He pushed those thoughts away, realizing he was standing in front of the portal and staring off into space. Now was not the time—he could wallow in self-pity while eating an entire cake by himself later.

Entering the Nether was easier this time as well, since he knew what to expect. Knowing didn’t make it feel any better—nothing could provide relief from this heat—but he didn’t need to take a second to catch his breath. He marched right up to the top of that small hill that was blocking the fortress from sight and then...hesitated.

He had been given a clear warning not to return, and even for him, it would be foolish too. So as much as his curiosity burned, he turned around and went the other way.

Now that he didn’t have a destination, he placed torches down periodically, to mark his path back. He also tried making a map, so that and the torches combined should help him find his way back fairly easily.

After several minutes of aimless wandering, he came upon a clearing of flat ground that was finally occupied by a mob, and one he was a little more familiar with. It had been reported that not many people survived attacks from wither skeletons, but zombie pigmen were a different story. Yes they were strong, but just as dumb as Overworld zombies. It was easy to trick them, the best way just to stand on a high perch and hack at them until they died. Steve wasn’t planning on attacking a zombie pigmen at all, but he would do well to remember that.

Since he knew they wouldn’t attack him until he made the first move, he walked among them with only mild trepidation. Still, despite the danger, it was amazing to be so close to a mob like this. In the Overworld, spiders were the only hostile mob that anyone could get close to, and that was only in the daytime. But even then, they tended to crawl back underground, preferring the warmer and quieter caves. But nobody wanted to be near spiders anyway.

But this—this was thrilling. It brought a smile to his face as he watched the zombie pigmen walk around and communicate with each other. They seemed so gentle, it was hard to imagine them with the capability to hack limbs off or shatter bones with ease.

One drifted close and Steve let it investigate him. It peered at his armor and made sounds halfway between a groan and a pig’s oink. The sounds drew in the others, and soon he had a gaggle of undead pigmen around him. Their interest waned after awhile, and Steve was free to continue on.

He was glad he’d decided to come back. As long as he stayed away from the fortress, he could explore to his heart’s content. And maybe he’d find another fortress he could more deeply explore. He’d read that fortresses could house expensive materials like diamond or gold. It would be fun to see what he could find in one. If he managed to encounter another one. He counted himself pretty lucky to have found the first one.

He passed through a small cave and came upon another large open area. Only the sight he saw pulled him up short.

Was this what the Nether was supposed to be like?

There were trees!?

He could only gape at the sight of a forest, the entire thing coated in red but unmistakable. He never would have thought a forest could survive in an environment as hostile as the Nether, and he wondered why the idea of fireproof wood never occurred to him. Because that’s the only thing that could make sense, that if the Nether could evolve to have forests, the trees would adapt by being immune to fire. It was brilliant, and he could only imagine the benefits of having wood that couldn’t burn. Too bad there wasn’t an easy way to get the  wood back home—the terrain was too wild to haul logs back. But on the map, he made a little star and wrote ‘red forest,’ in case a future opportunity presented itself.

He placed a torch just outside the cave he passed through, so he’d know the way back, then proceeded into the forest. The ground became somewhat squishy, and actual vegetation was growing in abundance. A grass equivalent covered most of the ground, and he could see regular mushrooms as well as a more bulbous, crimson mushroom of some kind. The trees that dominated the area—biome? It was weird to think of the Nether having biomes, but even weirder to think of the Nether being a biome, so he supposed it made sense—didn’t appear to have conventional leaves. Instead, when he reached up to touch one, the ‘leaves’ were more of a squishy mass that grew around the trunk. It kinda reminded him of the large mushrooms that grew in dark forests.

He stepped under the tree and squinted at the fleshy light source wedged between the ‘leaves’ and the trunk. It looked like glowstone but organic—the entire biome was giving him that vibe. It was as creepy as it was cool.

He wandered a little more and chanced a look to his side, where there was a gap in the trees, wide enough for him to see a group of...actually, he didn’t know. They looked like they could be zombie pigmen—or, more specifically, un-zombiefied pigmen—except their appearance screamed ‘civilized.’ Full tunics, belts, swords and crossbows. They looked like bonafide pig-men, much more so than zombie pigmen did. There had been no annotations in any of the books he’d read about mobs that lived in the Nether and were more ‘men’ than ‘pig.’

He paused to watch them, hiding partially behind a tree. They were remarkably like zombie pigmen, only all their actions had just that little touch of intelligence to them. They moved with more grace—not graceful in the slightest except when compared to anything zombie—and communicated in a more concise manner than what Steve had observed of the zombie pigmen.

He was tempted to approach them, but before he could decide whether that was a good idea or not, they all suddenly looked in his direction. He felt his heart drop, sure they were about to attack him, but they all let out high pitched squeals and turned tail, running away. 

He looked around in confusion, wondering what could have spooked them. His answer was a hand grabbing his shoulder and whipping him around. He let out a completely undignified shriek of terror and pressed himself against the tree.

When he saw that it was Herobrine and not some mindless mob about to kill him, he let out a sigh. “Holy fuck, warn a guy next time would ya? By the Gods, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Tell me, has the average intelligence of the Overworld dropped since the last time I was there or are you just a special brand of stupid?” Herobrine said, glaring at him with such intensity Steve was surprised he didn’t burst into flames.

He narrowed his eyes at Herobrine’s words. “I thought you meant just the fortress.”

“Well I didn’t, so when I take you back to your portal, I expect you to never return to the Nether.” Herobrine stepped back and crossed his arms. “Is that clear enough?”

Quickly irritated by the condescension in Herobrine’s voice, Steve glared right back. “No, it is not clear. Why can’t I explore the Nether?”

“Because I said so.”

“‘Because I said so’—the fuck kinda answer is that? Who made you king of the Nether?”

Herobrine growled. “Don’t antagonize me. You’re leaving and that’s final.”

Steve crossed his arms, mirroring Herobrine. “No I’m not. You don’t own the Nether, you can’t stop me from exploring it.” He didn’t know where all this confidence was coming from, and he was sure he was making a big mistake, but he didn’t care. Exploring the Nether was helping to put his mind off his problems in the Overworld. He didn’t care about any of the myths or if Herobrine was a demon or not. Steve would not be bullied away from doing something he wanted to do.

Herobrine took a measured, deep breath and let it out slowly. “This is not up for debate. Don’t think I won’t knock you out and drag you back myself.”

The two stared at each other until Steve looked away, defeated. It wasn’t fair. He’d been so excited to do something different, to not worry about encountering another human who would flee from him, or try to attack him. The Nether was too dangerous for most people but it didn’t deter Steve. He liked the thrill of not knowing what was around the next corner. He’d just found a Godsdamned forest after all. Who knew what else was waiting to be discovered in the Nether?

Herobrine nodded, recognizing his acquiescence. “Now follow me and don’t stray. And don’t try to run.”

Steve muttered an angry “whatever,” and followed behind Herobrine as they walked back the way Steve had come. He recognized the cave but the torch was missing. Had Herobrine removed it?

Either Herobrine had followed the torches and removed them as he came upon them, or something else had removed them. Considering how much of an asshole Herobrine was, he had probably removed the torches. But it did make Steve think—what if a random mob had done it? He hadn’t even thought that possible, since it didn’t happen in the Overworld, but watching those pigmen from earlier...they might be smart enough not to ignore a torch. As much as the thought of new adventure excited him, the thought of getting lost in the Nether was terrifying.

They walked in silence until they came upon the small clearing he’d encountered the zombie pigmen in. Some were still around, but when Herobrine approached them, they all scattered, giving him a wide berth. Steve frowned at their behavior. Now that he thought about it, Herobrine’s fortress was devoid of mobs—except for that wither skeleton—and so was the area around it. Were they just smart enough to be afraid of him or did Herobrine somehow have a way of keeping them away?

They were getting closer to the portal, but Steve wasn’t ready to leave yet. He briefly debated whether he should speak up, and then decided it didn’t matter. “Can you please just tell me a reason why you don’t want me here?”

At first Herobrine didn’t show signs of even having heard him, but then he glanced over his shoulder at Steve. Steve, for his part, tried to make his expression as pathetically sad and confused as he could. After a few seconds Herobrine looked away but said, “If you die, I don’t want more humans coming in to look for you.”

That thought was so ridiculous that Steve couldn’t help it—he laughed. Oh the irony. Herobrine was literally known to be a killer and yet Steve was in more danger among his own kind in his own home than he was with Herobrine in the Nether.

He settled down, pulling his helmet off to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Oh man, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while.”

Herobrine was frowning at him. “Why did you laugh?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me with this whole, ‘it’s for your own good’ bullshit. No one in the Overworld would care if I was missing. In fact, they would probably celebrate it. And the only friend I have is too scared to come to the Nether.”

Herobrine looked like he didn’t trust that answer. “Why?”

“Uh, ‘cause it’s a crazy dangerous hell dimension?”

Herobrine shook his head. “No, I mean why would they celebrate if you died?”

Steve shrugged. Even though he’d brought it up, he didn’t like talking about it. He turned the helmet over in his hands, staring down at it. “I’m not very popular over there. Everywhere I go, people are either afraid of me or try to attack me. It’s been that way my whole life.”

When it was silent for longer than it ought to be, Steve looked up. Herobrine’s head was turned away as he glared into the distance. Finally, he said, “It’s probably because of your eyes.”

Steve blinked. “My eyes?”

Herobrine nodded, finally looking at him.

“They’re purple.”

Steve waited, staring expectantly, but Herobrine didn’t elaborate. Just when it was starting to get awkward, Herobrine’s expression morphed into surprise. “You don’t know what that means?”

If this was anyone else, Steve would think they were pulling his leg. But based on their two encounters, Herobrine didn’t seem like the type to do that to a total stranger. Or at all, really. “Uh, no? I didn’t think it meant anything.”

“It means there was ‘Divine Intervention—‘” and he did the air quotes, much to Steve’s amusement, “—involved during your conception.”

Steve blanched. “First of all, ew. And second of all, what the fuck? Why would they interfere?”

Now Herobrine shrugged. “That depends entirely on who was involved.”

Herobrine’s face was completely serious, and his tone of voice was completely serious, but...this shit was getting too crazy, even for him. He liked to think of himself as an opened minded guy, and sure, Herobrine had turned out to be real, but cosmic entities? No fucking way.

“Are you—you’re fucking with me, right? I don’t know how long you’ve been in the Nether, but it must have been long enough to have fried your brain, because ‘divine intervention—‘are you trying to tell me that, what, the Aether is real?”

By the time he was done talking, Herobrine looked angry again. "You don't have to believe me, but don't mock me for your own shortsightedness. I should be proof enough that there are higher powers."

"Dude, I didn't even know you were real until the last time I was here."

Instead of looking surprised, Herobrine sighed. "That's not surprising. There was a lot of effort put into trying to erase my existence."

Again, Herobrine was being completely serious, but Steve could only stare open-mouthed at him. What the fuck kind of conspiracy cover-up bullshit had he stumbled into? Oh if only Alex wasn't such a wuss, she would be loving this.

Herobrine turned and started walking again before Steve could think of something to say. "Come on, we've delayed long enough."

It didn't take them long to reach the portal, but Steve still wasn't ready to leave. He had double as many question this time as the last. There's no way he'd be able to live not knowing what was going on.

Herobrine gestured to the portal, and Steve stepped up to it, but then hesitated. He turned around.

"Please, just—there's nothing for me in the Overworld. Can't you make an exception? I promise, on my life, that no one will come looking for me."

Herobrine scrutinized him for several moments. Steve waited with bated breath, feeling sweat trickle down his neck. If Herobrine was going to say no, he would have already, right? Maybe there was a chance...

"I'll think about it," Herobrine said, and then pushed him into the portal.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t been a no!

Steve was uncharacteristically happy the rest of the day, so much so that when Alex made a visit in the afternoon, she commented on it. Steve just chalked it up to having a blast in the Nether, and though she clearly didn’t fully believe him, she didn’t say more on the subject. Instead Steve mentioned the strange pigmen he’d seen and she promised to look into it when she returned to her village. He didn’t bring up the forest, somewhat afraid that the benefits the Nether could offer outweighed the danger it posed and would attract people to it, if she ever mentioned what he said to anyone.

After she’d left, Steve had a restless energy that he didn’t know how to expel. He wanted adventure, but the Overworld no longer offered that to him. The Overworld was the same biomes, with the same treasures, filled with the same people. The Nether was a new mystery filled with literally unknown dangers and discoveries. Plus, what with Herobrine being real and thinking back on the last strange conversation they had, there was something going on that Steve was dying to uncover.

He kept stealing glances at his portal throughout the day. Herobrine had said he would think about it, but how would Steve know his decision? Was he going to come to the Overworld? If he could, why stay in the Nether? Or was Steve supposed to just randomly pop back in and ask? Somehow he got the feeling that Herobrine would not like it if he did that. So that meant he would have to settle on waiting.

As it turned out, he didn’t have to worry about what to do. Because when he woke up the next morning, a piece of obsidian was missing, rendering the portal useless. Well that solved that issue. He really was supposed to just wait it out.

...Which proved harder than he thought because he wanted nothing more than to go to the Nether. He was gonna go stir crazy.

After spending the morning slowly eating breakfast and staring at the portal, he decided that he needed to get out of the house. It hadn’t even been a full day and he was already obsessing over Herobrine’s answer. He needed to do something to get his mind off of it. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel like doing anything in the Overworld, but he did decide that he might as well tell Alex about Herobrine. Or at the very least, ask what she knew about him. He’d done some research but Alex had an entire library at her desposal, while he just had a few books and journals he’d collected during his travels.

Unfortunately, that meant he’d need to visit her village, and while she lived on the outskirts of it, she was liable to be visited at any moment. She was fairly popular, as she had a variety of skills that made her invaluable to any village, and she was also kind and outgoing. He didn’t want to get her in trouble with her village by showing up unannounced, but he really wanted to ask her opinion.

So he donned a cloak and grabbed a small bundle he kept essentials in. Hopefully he could just stop by and ask her to visit later, to discuss the Nether. As much as she hated it, she had listened with rapt attention when he talked about his last two visits. He was sure she would flip her lid learning about either Herobrine, the pigmen, or the forest.

The walk to her house took the rest of the morning, and he made a careful approach to her door, weary of any villagers. Luckily there were none around, but he just hoped it would stay that way.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” she said in lieu of a greeting. He shrugged.

“Well, I have some information that I think you’ll find relevant to your interests that just couldn’t wait.”

“Well come in then, don’t keep me waiting.” As she ushered him in, she said, “I’m actually glad your here, maybe now I’ll have some time to myself.” He raised a brow, and she amended her statement. “Figuratively. You know what I mean.”

He sat down at her dining table, leaning back in the chair. “What, not all candy and roses being the most popular girl in the village?”

She gave him a deadpan look he chuckled at. “You know very well that while I appreciate that they value my knowledge and skills so much, they’re a bunch of spineless know-it-alls.”

“Ouch. Harsh.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is. Anyway what’s up?”

“I...I was wondering if you knew anything about Herobrine.”

She furrowed her brows. “What brought this up?”

He shrugged, staring at his lap and twiddling his thumbs. “Oh, you know...” When she didn’t respond, he pursed his lips. “Just wondering.”

“Uh huh.” She didn’t sound at all convinced, but she let it slide. “Well, to tell you the truth, not much. Probably about the same as you. He was supposedly a demon or spirit of some sort that would whisk you away if you traveled at night, said to eat the eyes of his victims.” She made a sour face. “I personally don’t put much stock in the myth but I especially don’t believe he ate eyes.”

“Yeah that does seem a little far-fetched.”

“Exactly. But other than that, I don’t think that much is known about him. Not that I’ve seen at least.”

Steve was wholly dissatisfied with her answer. “Nothing about where he came from or why he attacks people?”

She shook her head. “No nothing—actually, it has been a while since I last read anything about him. I guess I could look at the library, if you’d like?”

Steve was so grateful to have a friend like Alex. “Yes, please. And another thing you can add to your research list—in the Nether, I encountered some pigmen who were not zombified.”

She blinked, opening, closing, and then opening her mouth again. “Normal pigmen?”

“Yep. Wearing clothes and everything.”

“Wearing—and you’re telling me this now!?” She stood up and slammed her hands on the table. Steve leaned back more in the chair and stared at her with a small, amused smirk. “Steven, this is very important information you should be telling your best friend!”

He put his hands up. “Sorry, sorry, I had a lot on my mind. But yeah, maybe you can look into if anyone’s reported non-zombie pigmen recently.”

She shook her head, sitting down heavily in her chair and burying her face in her hands. She was muttering to herself and Steve just smiled, until he looked over. His smile dropped when he saw one of the villagers approaching.

“Uh, maybe I should go. Seems like you’re about to have company.” When she looked up he jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. She looked over with a grimace, and then sighed.

“Please don’t go, I really don’t feel like explaining some basic concept to him again.”

“‘Again?’ Maybe he has a crush on you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

There was a knock on the door and Alex sighed heavily. “I suppose having you answer the door would be a bad idea?”

“You think?”

She stood, scowling. “This better be good.”

She opened the door, standing in such a way that Steve’s view of the visitor was blocked.

“Hi Lance, what’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you were free, you know, me and the girls are going to take a  walk down to the beach, thought I might ask if you wanted to join?”

Steve could only imagine the face Alex was making. “Oh, gee, I’d love to, really, but...” She stepped aside, gesturing towards him. “I have compant right now. Maybe some other time.”

Once Steve became visible to Lance, he gave a fake smile and waved. Lance paled considerably, backing up a little. “O-Oh, y-yeah, maybe—maybe next time.” He backed up several more times before turning around and practically running away.

Alex shut the door, shaking her head. “Sorry. I wish they wouldn’t do that.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said quietly, fiddling with a loose string on his shirt. “I’m used to it.”

“Yeah but...it’s not fair. If they really knew you—“

“I know, okay? Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Alex stared at him sadly for a few seconds before she smiled. “Okay. Then let’s talk about something we can both get behind.” He watched her curiously as she entered the kitchen and returned holding two plates. “Cake or pumpkin pie?”

Steve smiled, grateful for the change of subject. “Obviously pumpkin pie.”

Alex scoffed. “The Nether must have messed with your head, because you’re crazy to choose pie over cake.”

Just like that the mood was restored, and when Steve left Alex’s house an hour later, he had a happy stomach and a wrapped slice of pumpkin pie in his bundle. Alex had promised to research his queries, so now all he had to do was wait.

He sighed.

More waiting.

As he walked back home, he couldn’t help but think about what Herobrine had said, and something he’d noticed while visiting Alex.

Both her and Lance had green eyes.

In fact, every village he’d ever visited had villagers with green eyes. Some were darker, nearly black, and some were lighter, almost unnaturally so, and some had something in between, but everyone had green eyes. Is that why everyone avoided him? Because he didn’t have green eyes? Or did it really have to do with having purple eyes, like Herobrine had implied?

He frowned.

He liked his eyes.

He should have asked Alex to research that as well, but it was skirting along the edge of the topic he preferred to ignore. Plus, he didn’t know how to bring it up. Everyone he encountered since he was a young child reacted with either aggression, or fear. Though Alex was different, she had to know why that was the case.

He made it home with plenty of sun left in the day and the same problem as earlier—a restless energy that had no outlet. He paced around his house and glanced at the portal—still broken—until he finally decided he had to do something. Even if that something was meager housework.

He cleaned the interior of his house over the course of two days, and when he was satisfied he focused on the little farm he had. It was nothing more than a few plots of wheat and one for carrots, though he didn’t do much with that one except to feed random pigs that wandered close. But he still fixed it all up, pulling weeds and some grass that had grown about. He also fixed the fence that surrounded the plots, which had been griefed by someone a long time ago. Steve had just been too lazy to fix it. He spent another two days building and replacing parts of the fence, happy when he was finally finished at a job well done.

He smacked his hands together to dislodge any dust or dirt from them, and then wiped his face with the hem of his shirt, sighing. It was the fifth day overall of his temporary ban from the Nether, and now that he was done with both inside and outside his house, he dreaded the inevitable boredom that would settle in.

He turned around to head back inside and promptly ran right into something tall and dark. He froze, snapping his eyes shut on instinct with a gasp.

How long had that enderman been there!? He hadn’t even heard it teleport! And why had it been standing right behind him?

A few seconds passed wherein nothing happened, so Steve opened his eyes a little, squinting down at the ground. The enderman was still directly in front of him, so Steve took a step back, giving them both some space. Endermen weren’t seen during the day, only briefly in the morning until the sun fully rose, then they would teleport underground. It would be just his luck to have one appear to him now. If it decided to attack he’d be screwed. He didn’t have a weapon currently on him.

Instead of attacking, however, the enderman did something Steve didn’t know was even possible for it—it crouched.

Steve was so shocked by the behavior that he didn’t even realize he was staring right at its face—which was now lower to the ground than Steve was—until he was, and then he gasped again and slammed his eyes shut. His heart was beating loud in his ears and he was tensed up in anticipation of being ripped to shreds, but seconds passed and nothing happened.

He had just looked an enderman in the face and it wasn’t attacking him.

What the hell was going on?

The enderman let out a warble, then another, more insistent one when he kept his eyes closed. His curiosity was burning so much that Steve, almost against his will, opened one eye just a crack. He experimented a look at the enderman, which had stood back up to its full height, and when he wasn’t attacked he opened both eyes fully and looked at it wearily.

The enderman stared back at him with those intense purple eyes, but it didn’t open its mouth or scream. Instead, it turned and took a few long strides over to the portal. Into its hand appeared a piece of obsidian. The missing piece of obsidian. It glanced over at him, as if to make sure he was watching—which he was in incredulity—before sliding the obsidian into place. As soon as the frame was complete, the portal burst to life, like it had never been deactivated.

With a final nod, the enderman teleported away. Steve stayed still and stared at the spot for several moments before he managed to kickstart his brain.

What. The fuck. Was that!

Somewhat disturbed by what had just happened, he realized shortly that the portal was back up. Herobrine must have sent that enderman the first time to disable the portal. But now that it was active again, that meant he could return to the Nether.

The day was only half over, so Steve wiped off his face and changed his shirt, then donned some armor. Not the full set, just a chest plate, because he was only planning on hearing Herobrine’s answer, then he would return to gather more supplies as needed. He strapped a bundle filled with some food, torches, the potions of fire resistance Alex had given him, and his map to his hip and a sword on the other side, then entered the portal.

After a few days away, the Nether’s heat was stifling, but he paid little mind to it because Herobrine was waiting with his arms crossed, tapping his foot on the ground.

“I’ve decided to allow you to explore the Nether.”

The biggest grin split Steve’s face. “Really?”

“On some conditions,” Herobrine added, and Steve nodded.

“Of course, anything.”

Herobrine raised a brow but continued on. “One, do not trespass in my fortress.”

“Right, makes sense. I’m sorry I did so in the first place.”

Herobrine’s face remained passive as he said, “Noted. And second, don’t lead ghasts here.”

Steve didn’t know how to respond to that one. “How...” He trailed off, trying to think of a good way to phrase his next question. “I don’t know much about ghasts, other than the fireball thing. How far is their range?”

“If they can see you, they’ll probably shoot. They’re not very bright, so you could outrun them, or just hide until they fly away. Once they lose sight of you, they lose interest.”

That made Steve feel marginally better about encountering one. “That’s good to know.”

Herobrine stayed silent, staring at him for longer than Steve thought was strictly necessary. Or polite.

“Uh—“

“Are you exploring the Nether without any knowledge about what to expect?” Herobrine asked, cutting him off. Well phrased like that, Steve looked like an idiot.

He felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment as he tried to defend himself. “It’s not like there books about this kind of thing, you know. Not many people have the courage to explore the Nether and then write about it. I know the basics about a variety of nether mobs, enough to know which to avoid and which to not worry about. Like zombie pigmen, if you don’t hit them they won’t attack you.”

“You mean zombie piglins?”

That brought Steve up short. “Piglins?”

Herobrine huffed, looking at him like he was an idiot. He was certainly good enough at making Steve feel like one. “Piglins are those mobs you were spying on in the crimson forest.”

Steve just gave Herobrine a blank look. “Crimson forest?”

Herobrine’s previously passive expression was quickly turning irritated as he sighed. “Okay, let me give you a quick rundown so you don’t get yourself killed. The Nether has five biomes, the Nether wastes, where we are now.” He gestured to the netherrack around them, and almost as an after thought, Steve took out his map and started writing everything Herobrine was saying on the back of it. “The crimson forest, with the red trees. The warped forest, with blue trees. The soul sand valley, and the basalt delta. There’s also a structure called a bastion remnant that you want to avoid at all costs. It’s a large fortress-like building made of blackstone that piglins have made their home.

As for the mobs, there’s the piglins and zombie piglins, hoglins, which are aggressive pigs, essentially, ghasts, regular and wither skeletons, blazes, which only inhabit fortresses, magma cubes, and striders. Oh and endermen.”

It was a lot of information and Steve had several questions, but he had to pick and choose because he didn’t know how long Herobrine would entertain him. “Striders?”

“Passive mobs that can walk on lava. You can also ride them, if you have warped fungus.” What the fuck was warped fungus?

“And endermen come to the Nether?”

“Yes, you can see them pretty much everywhere but they prefer warped forests.”

“And that’s the one with the blue trees...” he muttered to himself, reviewing his notes.

“Right. That should be enough to prevent your death through conventional means—anything that happens is on you now.” Herobrine turned away, paused, and turned back. “One last thing—“ And Herobrine stepped closer and put his hands on Steve’s shoulders, shaking him a little and looking intensely into his eyes. “Do not ever sleep in a bed here.”

“Why—“

“Just. Don’t.”

“O...kay?”

Herobrine stepped back and nodded. “Other than that, have fun.” With that, he took his leave, and Steve was finally left alone to start his exploration in earnest.

Chapter Text

It took Steve longer than he would have liked to become accustomed to exploring the Nether. Actually, he’d say that he still had a lot of learning to do.

The embarrassing thing was that he was struggling not so much with the mobs as he was with the general environment. He constantly found himself turned around or put in a position that allowed mobs to inadvertently team up on him. It frustrated him but his brain couldn’t seem to multitask. He’d be so busy fighting one mob that he would leave his back exposed.

Luckily his armor protected him, though with how sloppy he’d been these last several days, he’d already had to go back to the Overworld and repair it.

The worst injury he’d received so far was a burn along his forearm from brief contact with a magma slime. It had been his first time fighting a large one and its jump had surprised him, leaving the mob free to get close enough to graze his arm with its body. It wasn’t bad, barely a discernible mark now, but it was a good reminder of why he needed to be more careful than he normally would.

In the Overworld it was the same mobs and the same fights—dodge, swipe, dodge, kill. Or swipe, dodge, kill. Each mob had a rhythm that Steve was well versed in. He hadn’t developed that for the Nether mobs and it showed.

The worst were the wither skeletons, the only mobs that got a free pass to wander Herobrine’s fortress. He had wanted to ask what was up with that, but he had not seen Herobrine since the man had allowed him to freely explore the Nether, and he didn’t want to risk yelling and agitating Herobrine just to get an answer, so he dealt with them as he needed. It wasn’t often, but sometimes they would stray to the walkway that connected with the netherrack closest to Steve’s portal, and Steve, not knowing they were there, would wander close enough to aggravate them. They were fast and strong, and—as he learned during one unfortunate encounter—infected him with some sort of weakening affliction that thankfully only lasted a few seconds but still scared the hell out of him. It hadn’t happened the very first time so he was alarmed when his sword was suddenly too heavy for him to lift and the small cut on his arm had had a dark purplish, almost black tint to it. Luckily the wither skeleton had been dead already, or he would have been in real trouble, and the purple-black had faded away, like a rapidly healed bruise. But even with all that, they were still just skeletons, and usually fell if he got two good hits in, three if he wasn’t careful.

But overall, he could say that he was enjoying his time. He had thoroughly explored the area immediately around the portal and found nothing noteworthy, only a white ore he knew to be quartz. He had a small amount stored in a double chest he had brought over, alongside a crafting bench. He normally would have brought a bed but considering Herobrine’s warning, had not.

The farthest he had ventured out was to the crimson forest he had discovered before. Since Herobrine had so rudely interrupted him the last time, he had resumed observing the piglins, though from a distance as he learned that they were not the friendly type. They might look smarter than their zombie counterparts, but they were just as brutish and single-minded as the zombie piglins were. Only difference was Steve didn’t have to hit them to aggravate them. So yeah, he kept his distance while watching them.

And they were fascinating. There definitely was some level of intelligence to them, especially when they hunted down the hoglins Steve had seen running about the crimson forest. He hadn’t personally approached one yet, but only because he had seen one ram into and then toss a piglin like it weighed nothing so, Herobrine’s note about it being an ‘aggressive pig’ was apt and kept Steve away. Though he did make note that hoglin meat looked just like pork, so they were a possible food source. It was a thought that made Steve feel uneasy because he never wanted to be desperate enough to hunt hoglins for food but—just in case. He would have to strive not to let things get that bad.

Presently, he was returning from a visit to the crimson forest, inspecting one of those large, red mushrooms and debating on whether or not it was edible, when he heard the tell-tale rattle of skeleton bones. He frowned and pocketed the mushroom for later, unsheathing his sword instead and approaching his portal with caution. He kept his eyes peeled, taking deep breaths to help calm his racing heart. It could be a regular skeleton, but it was probably a wither skeleton.

Sure enough, as soon as he arrived at the little bit of netherrack connecting the island with his portal to the rest of the Nether, he saw a wither skeleton standing on the hill blocking the fortress from view. Steve eyed it with a frown, wondering if he could make a run for it.

He heard a sudden rattling behind him and turned around just in time, sword up on instinct. A second wither skeleton bared down on him, putting all its strength into trying to overpower him. Steve didn’t have the best grip on his sword on account of being surprised, and he could feel his wrist and arm aching from the awkward angle. Gritting his teeth, he pushed with all his strength, forcing the wither skeleton back and giving himself some breathing room. It didn’t last long, as the wither skeleton  rushed right back in to attack.

For how scary he found them, they at least had a predictable attack pattern. It was like they were always set on ‘go.’ As soon as he was within range, they attacked with a single-mindedness that rivaled a piglin. But with how strong they were, and coupled with the strange poison they could infect him with, he considered them the more dangerous mob. He had seen piglins run from zombie piglins. He had yet to see a wither skeleton run from anything.

The wither skeleton attacked and he parried, again and again until he saw an opening and swung at it. They were tall and, for being so fast, not extremely agile, so it couldn’t dodge his attack. His sword slid home right between two of its ribs, embedding into its spine. He grinned in triumph, at least until the skeleton stepped back and his sword went with it, wrenched right out of his hand.

He stared open-mouthed at the wither skeleton as it stared down at the sword poking through its ribcage, then seemed to snap out of it and lunged for him. He cursed and ducked, then rolled out of the way and backed up a few steps, mindful of the ledge.

Well, shit.

He looked around but it was futile and he knew it. There was nothing which could help him and he had no other weapons on him. The wither skeleton was again momentarily distracted by the sword it seemed to remember was stuck in its spine, so Steve looked at his portal, sitting innocently about twenty feet away. If he could just get to it...

The rattling brought his attention back to the wither skeleton rushing toward him. He took a step back but the edge of the netherrack was right there, at the bottom of which was lava. He’d have to—

An idea popped into his head. It would cost him his sword, but at least the mob would be dealt with. He grimaced and crouched a bit, waiting for the right moment. Once the wither skeleton was practically on top of him, he ducked under its swing and ran behind it, turning swiftly to kick it as hard as he could. It wobbled comically before losing the battle with gravity and falling over the edge. Well, he hadn’t been planning on returning to the Overworld quite so soon but he’d definitely need a new sword.

Relieved to have that dealt with, he felt his heart drop when he heard more rattling approaching. He turned around and sighed at the sight of the first wither skeleton he’d seen rushing toward him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered to himself, but he was still near the edge and there was no reason for the same tactic not to work again. So he crouched a little and waited, until the wither skeleton was almost bearing down on him, and made the move to duck under its swing.

Only it didn’t swing high.

Startled by the low sweep of the mob’s sword, Steve was barely able to jump back enough to avoid getting his head chopped off. He backed up on instinct but was trapped by the knowledge of the edge behind him. He couldn’t back up.

The wither skeleton raised its sword and swung it down, meant to cleave him right in half, and Steve did something really stupid on a whim to stay alive.

He raised both hands and caught the sword. The jagged edge of the stone blade immediately bit into his palms and fingers, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Any other formidable blade and he’d probably lose functionality of his hands. As it was, he could feel a deep but ultimately non-life threatening cut slowly being sliced into his skin. It stung like a motherfucker and brought tears to his eyes, but he held on. At least, until he started feeling that weakness spreading through his hands and arms. They were starting to feel like anvils strapped to his shoulders. He wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.

Then the wither skeleton pulled.

He might have passed out for all that he was aware of his surroundings. The pain was immense, a stinging pulse with every beat of his heart. He dropped to his knees with a pained gasp, cradling his bleeding hands to his chest. Eyes closed and teeth grit, he did his best to ride out the pain.

When he came back to himself what felt like hours later, he looked up with vision made blurry by tears and saw an enderman standing in front of him, facing away. Several feet in front of it and standing still, the wither skeleton was staring at him. He shuddered and stood on shaky legs, looking between the two of them. It was remarkably like his first encounter with a wither skeleton, though Herobrine was nowhere to be seen. He wondered if it would be better or worse if Herobrine had been the one to rescue him. On the one hand, Steve would be incredibly grateful. On the other, he didn’t want Herobrine to see him as more of the pathetic fool he probably already thought Steve was. So perhaps it was for the best the enderman was here.

His instincts were telling him to look away, but he couldn’t help but stare in awe at the enderman that had apparently rescued him. This was the second enderman in under a week that he was able to look at and not get attacked. Maybe it was the same enderman as the one who’d fixed his portal? It was impossible to tell them apart, so he couldn’t be sure, but if it wasn’t then why, now, was he suddenly able to look upon them without repercussion?

Whatever the reason, he was grateful. His hands were practically useless, sending a jolt of pain up his arms every time he so much as twitched a finger. He didn’t think they would suffer permanent damage, but he didn’t want to risk making it worse.

Figuring the enderman would be able to handle the wither skeleton, Steve took a step toward his portal. He jumped when the wither skeleton suddenly rushed at him. With a soft noise, the enderman disappeared and Steve suffered a mini heart attack, thinking himself abandoned, before it reappeared behind the wither skeleton, grabbed it, and disappeared again. Steve couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing through his head, but after several minutes of heart-pounding nothingness, Steve speed-walked to the portal.

It was late when he arrived back in the Overworld. He frowned, pausing to watch the crescent moon. It was hard to tell time while in the Nether, but his internal clock was telling him it should be evening at the latest. Not close to midnight like it was.

He entered his house and washed his hands gently, then dried and wrapped them, wincing the whole time. Both hands were that purplish-black tint, darker than he’d seen it before. It had spread over his wrists and faded into his normal skin tone along his forearms. He could barely lift them without feeling like he was going to strain something doing so. He wished he had a potion, but he’d already drank the one Alex had given him his first day in the Nether and he had no other way of acquiring one, not unless Alex was willing to slip him one. Which she probably would, because he had gotten the damn nether wart for her, but he wasn’t going to go ask her now. It’d have to wait until morning.

Once his hands were as good as they were going to get, he removed his armor and his clothes with much difficulty, lamenting the blood splatters on his shirt and pants. In the morning he’d have to take the time to try and remove that, but he’s had enough for the day. Now that his body knew what time it was, and the adrenaline was leaving, he was hit by a bout of exhaustion. Yawning, he threw on some pajamas and crawled into bed.

His sleep was fitful as his hands twitched and ached, keeping him on the cusp of sleep. By the time morning rolled around and the sun shone through the windows, he’d taken to laying on his back and staring in a daze at the ceiling, letting his eyes fall shut every so often before being yanked from sleep again by a twinge of pain.

He spent longer than normal in bed like that, only rising when the sun was practically at it’s zenith. He felt lethargic and his hands ached, the muscles stiff. When he changed the filthy and bled-through bandages, the skin of his hands was still discolored. It made making breakfast more difficult and tiresome than it had a right to be, so he gave up and had bread warmed in the furnace instead.

When he was done, he sat at the table with his forehead pressed into the cool wood. There were things he needed to do today that he couldn’t quite force himself to get started on. He didn’t have the energy. At the back of his mind, some inner voice was yelling that the discoloration from the wither skeletons had never lasted this long, but he was too tired and in too much discomfort to care.

Finally he convinced himself that he was wasting daylight, so he dragged himself into some proper clothes and took stock of his inventory.

He had one well used iron sword and one iron ingot. Great.

At least he could use the ingot to reinforce the old blade, but his armor would have to wait to be repaired, which was fine anyway. It wasn’t on its last leg or anything dire like that, he just preferred to have it in top shape at all times—at least when it came to the Nether. If he was staying in the Overworld, he wouldn’t care to keep it so pristine. So it still had a while before he felt like it would start becoming a liability. But the sword would have been a lost cause if not for the iron ingot. He counted himself lucky.

What normally would have taken less than thirty minutes took him close to two hours. Mostly because the single iron ingot felt like it weighed the same as a building. He didn’t even nudge it the first few times he tried lifting it, then eventually was able to get it into the furnace. After that, he had to struggle to get the sword onto the anvil, which left him panting and shaking from the effort. When the iron was melted, he used the tongs from his smithing table to pour the liquid iron onto the sword, an endeavor which sent molten iron splattering in small blobs onto his wooden floor and walls, quickly burning small holes through them. He had to ignore it to focus on not dropping the bowl of heated iron entirely and setting his house on fire. Finally once the iron was poured and cooled a little, he used a hammer to spread the new, thin layer of iron over the old. It was a shit patch job, but the sword would no longer break after a single use, so he counted it as a win.

After the sword was done, he felt completely drained of energy. Most of the day was gone and he hadn’t even done anything. But he couldn’t help it. He just felt so tired.

Almost on autopilot, he crawled into bed and curled up under the covers, keeping his hands spread out next to his head. They pulsed in time with his heart, a deep ache that made it hard to think about anything else. They felt constricted by the bandages, hot and swollen. He stared at them until his eyes grew heavy, and fell into a light sleep.

He dozed on and off until a sound like a thump woke him to full consciousness. Groggy, he sat up and looked around, but nothing was out of the ordinary. The sun outside had set and he hadn’t lit his torches during the day, so he was able to barely make out the dark figure standing outside his door. He thought maybe it was a zombie or creeper, but then the darkness shifted and two glowing purple eyes came into view.

Another enderman? Or...the same enderman?

With a sigh, Steve got out of bed and crossed over to the door, opening it after a little hesitation. The enderman backed up and trilled at him and, encouraged, he stepped outside. It wasn’t too cold, but he still shivered.

The enderman was standing by the portal. Steve walked up to it, brows furrowed in confusion. The mob gestured to the portal and Steve bit his lip, glancing back at his house. Should he get his supplies? The thought of hefting the armor up and onto him was extremely unpleasant, but at the very least he could grab his sword and bundle.

He made a step toward his house and the enderman made a loud sound, teleporting in front of him. Steve blinked and stepped back, eyeing the mob wearily but, like before, it didn’t attack even after prolonged eye contact. That fact still boggled his mind.

He took a step to the side and the enderman mirrored him, blocking him from getting to his house. He huffed and moved to cross his arms but the motion stretched at the skin of his hands, pulling a hiss from him. He dropped his arms back down.

“I just want to grab my things,” he tried reasoning, but the enderman just stared down at him. Then it surprised him by shaking its head and pointing to the portal.

Well, he didn’t think he was going to win this argument. “Okay, okay.” With one last glance at his house and thinking of what a bad idea this was but not having the strength to fight it, he walked through the portal.

There wasn’t anything waiting on the other side, which mildly surprised him, but it was for the best. After a few seconds the enderman came through, then got his attention and pointed at the ground.

At his blank expression, the enderman made a sound and pointed at him, then at the ground again.

“You...want me here? Oh, you want me to stay here?”

The enderman nodded and disappeared without another...er, gesture.

Left to his own devices, Steve sat on his double chest and sighed. With nothing better to do but wait, he inspected his hands. They didn’t look or feel any better than earlier, but the bandages hadn’t been bled through yet. He took that as a good sign.

“...”

He looked up, wondering what got his attention. He must just be hearing things. He’d noticed that the Nether did that sometimes. He could swear he heard whispers or shuffling but there was nothing ever there.

“...”

It came again and sounded...different. He stood up, heart hammering. He was defenseless in a hostile environment. He should have at least grabbed his sword. He ignored the voice inside telling him he wouldn’t have been any better off with a sword if he could barely lift it.

“...”

“Who’s there?” He said, trying to sound strong. His voice only trembled a little and he was very proud of that.

“...”

It sounded like it was coming from the direction the fortress was. As friendly as that enderman was being, he didn’t want to piss it off by leaving the portal, so he walked as close to the edge as he felt comfortable and strained his hearing, waiting to hear it again.

All that he heard was the ambient sounds of the Nether. Whatever had been making that sound had stopped. Steve felt a terrible dread that there was some unknown creature lurking about, trying to bait him. He stumbled away from the edge, suddenly sure something was going to reach over and drag him down into the lava.

He sat back down on the double chest, and that’s when the enderman reappeared, Herobrine beside it. Seeing Herobrine brought him a little back to reality. Herobrine had told him about all the mobs that existed in the Nether. He wouldn’t leave one out. There wasn’t anything out there, just his tired mind playing tricks on him.

Once Herobrine saw him, he scowled, glaring at the enderman. The enderman made several noises that Steve assumed was speech, and pointed at him. Herobrine seemed to understand the enderman because his next look was not so irritated. Instead he looked like his normal passive self, this time with maybe a hint of concern.

Herobrine walked over to him and held out his hand. Without thought, Steve carefully lifted one of his hands to place in Herobrine’s, but the other didn’t haul him to his feet like he’d been expecting. Instead Herobrine inspected his hand, turning it to be palm face up and rubbing his thumb gently over the bandages.

“What happened?”

He didn’t sound angry or irritated, just curious. Steve wet his lips before answered, staring at his hand in Herobrine’s.

“I was fighting a wither skeleton. My sword got caught in its ribcage. I managed to push it over the edge but a second wither skeleton rushed me. I tried to do the same thing, but it surprised me. It—It was going to cut me down so I grabbed the sword with my hands.” He brought up his second hand for emphasis. “It wasn’t that bad until it yanked the sword out of my grip. I’m not sure exactly what happened next, but an enderman appeared and took that wither skeleton away.”

Herobrine had adopted a frown during his explanation, and hummed when he was finished. He unraveled the bandage on the hand in his grip. “You’ve been infected with wither.”

“Wither?”

Herobrine nodded. “It’s what’s turning your hands black. Normally it only lasts a few seconds if you get it from a wither skeleton, but something about your wound has made it worse this time.” Abruptly, Herobrine let go of his hand and turned around. “Follow me.”

Stumped by the sudden change of pace, Steve stumbled to his feet and followed after Herobrine. Only a few steps in and he heard shuffling behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see the enderman following after them.

What was up with these endermen? Why were they being nice and why weren’t they attacking him? Maybe Herobrine could help him out a little.

He quickened his pace until he was next to Herobrine. “Can I ask you a question?” Herobrine grunted in a way that seemed to be acceptance, so Steve asked, “Do you know why the endermen are being nice?”

Herobrine snorted, giving him a look that again made Steve feel like an idiot. “Not endermen. Enderman.”

“So...it is the same enderman? But that still doesn’t answer my question as to why.”

Herobrine shrugged. “I can’t say for certain. Originally I asked it to disable your portal until I was ready to give you an answer. Why it stuck around after and why it’s helping you...” Herobrine trailed off, then shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Steve was unsatisfied with that answer, but he supposed it didn’t really matter. The enderman had saved his life once already. He could at least try and give it the benefit of the doubt.

Steve let silence settle between them as Herobrine lead them down into the fortress, easily navigating the maze like hallways with purpose. Another thing he’d been wondering popped into his mind and he asked, “Did you tell it to bring me here?”

“No, it brought your condition to my attention. Good thing too, I don’t know how you were handling that much wither on your own, on top of having your hands sliced open.”

Steve grimaced, staring at his unbandaged hand. The cuts were ugly but no longer bleeding. “Not very well.”

“Wither is no joke, if you become infected with it like this again, tell me.”

Steve felt a prickle of irritation at that. “What am I supposed to do, yell for your attention?” 

They stopped in front of a set of double doors. Probably the same ones Herobrine had lead him to the first time he was here, but Steve couldn’t be sure. Everything inside the fortress looked the same.

Herobrine turned to look at him but instead of being outright angry, he appeared to at least try and hold it in, only letting a frown show on his features. “The wither skeletons should not have been that far out. For that I’m sorry. And in the future, if you are similarly injured then I give you permission to come find me.”

The anger that had started to simmer under his skin abruptly went out. If Herobrine could apologize for something that ultimately wasn’t his fault and offer to help him in the future, then Steve could at least thank him and be done with it.

“T-Thank you. Uh, I—I’ll try not to let myself get hurt so bad again, though. It’s—It’s not your responsibility to see to my health.”

Herobrine studied him with a raised brow before bowing his head. “Come on, I have something that will help with the wither.”

Herobrine pushed through one of the doors and held it open for him. He walked through and didn’t know what to expect but it definitely wasn’t this.

He’d expected a grand room fit for a king, but...he could have walked into any villager’s house, or even his own. Though the walls were an unusal red color and there were no windows, it still perfectly imitated the inside of a simple wooden house—if a bit bigger than normal.

Herobrine pointed to a bench on one side of the room. “Sit down and relax. I will return shortly.”

Steve did as told and sat as Herobrine exited the room through a door on the opposite side. He looked around but there was nothing special—it truly did look like the inside of a regular house. It was a little jarring to go from the red stone outside to full wood inside, but everyone had an aesthetic, he supposed. Considering Herobrine was seemingly stuck in the Nether, he couldn’t blame the guy for wanting a taste of the Overworld.

Though, one thing caught his eye. He hadn’t seen it at first because of how naturally dark the room was, but there was a pickaxe made of some black material hanging on the wall beside the door Herobrine had gone through. It reflected the minimal light the redstone torches around the room emitted, so it was made of metal, but he had never seen a black metal before. He wondered what it was.

He realized that the enderman wasn’t in the room. Was it outside? He hadn’t noticed how far it had followed them. Or why it was even following them—er, him—in the first place. Why was it apparently watching him and why was it rescuing him? Not that he was complaining, but he was tired of feeling so out of the loop. There was a lot going on that he didn’t know about, and though he got the feeling that Herobrine knew more than he was letting on, he couldn’t think of a way to get the other to spill the beans. But he sure would like to know what the fuck his life had turned into.

After a few minutes Herobrine returned holding a potion bottle. Steve eyed it apprehensibly. The liquid inside was black.

Herobrine walked over and handed it to him. “Here. Drink.”

Steve took the potion and grimaced. “Do I—“

“Yes.”

Steve sighed and uncapped the bottle. He brought it up and smelled it, expecting a horrible smell but it only smelled like plants. Still, not appealing. But the smell made it easier for him to take a drink.

The potion was thicker than any other he’d had and contained chunks of something Steve did not want to think too hard about, but he managed to swallow all of it. Like all potions, the effects were instantaneous—the discolored tint on his hands receded and though they still hurt from the cuts, he felt strength in them and his arms again.

He smiled, looking up at Herobrine. “Thank you, really. I feel a lot better now.”

Herobrine nodded. “I would offer you a potion of healing, for your cuts, but I’m afraid I don’t have any.”

Steve stood up and handed the empty bottle back to Herobrine. “Oh, that’s okay. They’ll heal in no time. Now that the wither is gone, it doesn’t hurt as bad as before.”

“Good. Now, I’ll escort you out.”

Steve stifled another smiled. It was kinda funny how private Herobrine was. As soon as Steve’s problem was fixed, Herobrine gave him the boot. But Steve didn’t mind too much—he understood what it meant to be weary of others and suspicious of their intentions. He had gone through it with Alex. Herobrine would just have to learn that Steve held no ill intentions toward him.

The enderman wasn’t in the hallway, but it was on the walkway above the stairs. Herobrine seemed pleased to see it.

“Can you lead him out?”

The enderman nodded, and Herobrine turned to him. “Remember, if you’re injured, you can come find me. But only if it’s an emergency. And I will keep the wither skeletons away from here, to avoid any potential encounters like this again.”

Steve did feel grateful about that. He hated wither skeletons. “Thanks, I really appreciate that. And thanks again for the potion.”

“Don’t mention it,” Herobrine dismissed flippantly, then disappeared suddenly, leaving Steve and the enderman alone.

“Okay.” He looked at the enderman, knowing that it was a bad habit because this enderman might be okay with it but that didn’t mean others would be, but he thought it would be rude not to.

“Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

Herobrine had a problem.

...Okay, it could be said that Herobrine had many problems, but at this particular moment, he had one, decidedly human problem.

He had been perfectly happy to spend the rest of his life never seeing a human again, when one had just happened to literally run into him. Since then, he could admit that he was...curious. From what little conversation they’d had, Steve’s personal life was something Herobrine was intimately familiar with. He had never met a human shunned by the inhabitants of the Overworld before. That was obviously the reason behind Herobrine’s interest in this human—their likeness and nothing more.

He sighed.

Is there something on your mind you’d like to talk about?

The soft, indescribable voice washed over him and he repressed a shiver. That tone had ceased to send his heart into overdrive in fear, but the voice itself was so off he couldn’t help his reaction. It was almost like his ears weren’t meant to hear it. He supposed it was something he’d never get used to, even after all these years.

“I don’t know if I can explain it in a way you’d understand,” he said. He was currently laying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling and attempting to rest, so he lifted his head to look at the only other occupant in the room as he spoke.

The Wither hummed. It was floating in the middle of the room, content to remain stationary. All three of its heads were pointed at him. Once upon a time that would have made him uneasy. Now he knew it just meant the Wither was listening to him.

Is it about the human you’ve been talking to?

Herobrine frowned, feeling ridiculously like a child caught doing something he’d been told not to do. But the Wither didn’t control him—well, not about this, at least. 

“How do you know about him?”

The Wither made a sound that might have been a laugh, and Herobrine sat up fully, crossing his legs. He had to crane his neck back to see it properly.

My skeletons might have mentioned something.

Herobrine rolled his eyes but remained silent, wrapping his arms around his legs. He swore those damn skeletons were much too gossipy for their own good. Personally he’d always thought they shared a hive mind, but he didn’t have proof of that, and the Wither was all too happy to spin tales that sometimes supported and sometimes contradicted his suspicion, leaving him without answers. Though that was hardly a surprise—he’d be lucky to have the Wither actually answer a single question seriously.

And...

Herobrine looked up, surprised the Wither was continuing. It was usually content to let the conversation die out.

...I can sense the Void, when he’s here.

Herobrine clenched his jaw, turning his head to glare at the wall.

Damn it.

He had known that Steve was spawn of either the Aether or the Void—the purple eyes were indicator enough and he had even told Steve as such—but he had been hoping, way deep down, that it was the Aether. That would make it easier to hate him, to keep his distance and distrust him. But it appeared they were even more similar than he’d originally thought. One fallen from grace to obtain power from the Void and one born soaked in it.

Does this information upset you?

The Wither sure was chatty today. Herobrine had never heard it speak so much in one day. And of course it was about Herobrine’s...problem.

“I wanted it to.”

I see.

Herobrine lessened his glare when he looked at the Wither, but only its middle head was gazing back at him. Oh, so now it was done with their conversation?

I think you should get to know him better. It appears that you two have much in common. And I would like to meet him. In time.

Herobrine had to ruthlessly suppress the urge to be sarcastic. He liked being alive, thank you, and no amount of camaraderie would prevent the Wither from acting appropriately if it felt ridiculed. He didn’t have a death wish.

Instead he let out a slow breath and cast his gaze down. He didn’t respond, but the Wither wasn’t looking at him anymore.

Without another word, he stood and left. He had more thinking to do.

Steve’s hands healed well enough. There were red fleshy scars, on the meat of both palms and across the insides of his fingers, and sometimes when he clenched them or gripped something too tightly they twinged in pain, but he could hold a sword without it hurting too much and deemed himself ready to return to the Nether.

He had forbidden himself from returning after Herobrine had healed the wither affliction, even though the time spent in the Overworld was excruciatingly boring. Alex had not visited him during his self-imposed time out, and with his hands injured he didn’t want to risk getting into trouble at her village. So he ‘suffered’ in silence, so to speak.

Something that he found himself thinking a lot about was his new enderman friend. He had never seen a mob, let alone an enderman, behave the way it was. Letting him look at it without attacking? Saving him from another mob? It was unheard of! It was unnatural!

It was awesome!

He just wished he could talk to it, but that was asking for too much, and he’d take what he could get. But while he’d been in the Overworld, it hadn’t visited. Steve wouldn’t say he was hurt about that fact, but he was definitely disappointed. It was cool to have a friendly mob as a companion, especially one with such a reputation as an enderman.

But he just had to bide his time and eventually his thirst for adventure became strong enough to overpower any doubts he might have about traversing a dangerous environment with almost healed hand injuries. Besides, he could hold and swing a sword with no problems.

So he donned his armor and tied his sword and bundle of torches, food, and the fire resistance potion around his waist and stepped through the portal.

The hot air blasted him when he stepped back out, but it was comforting, like a hug from the Nether itself. He wondered if that was a good thing—that the heat no longer felt stifling—before shaking the though away and focusing.

Because today he was going to explore until he found something new.

He’d thoroughly explored the nether wastes surrounding his portal and the crimson forest he frequented, and now he felt he was ready for a new challenge. He didn’t care if it was the other forest or the large building Herobrine had warned him about. He’d take anything at this point.

Normally, when he went to the crimson forest, his path was fairly linear. There was only one area that split off in another direction—the clearing with the pigmen. He always went right, to get to the forest. This time when he arrived at it, he went left, starting another torch trail to keep track of the way back.

The terrain stayed the same for a long stretch, long enough that Steve was about to give up. He only had six torches left and that was way lower than he felt comfortable with. Most of the way was him walking on a raised platform in between a lava river and a netherrack wall that reach the ceiling, so the torches might have been redundant, but he knew himself well enough to know that his dumbass could still get lost.

Just when he was about to give up, he spotted a difference in color up ahead. There was a bend coming up, the river and wall curving left slightly before, he assumed, continuing forward. The bend in the wall blocked his view of what might be on his right. A few feet ahead, large patches of soul sand spotted the ground. Suddenly excited to see something new, he rushed forward.

He slowed when he reached the bend, mindful of the soul sand, and peaked around the corner, only to gape with a large smile in amazement at the sight before him.

It was a huge area that was mostly open and absolutely covered in soul sand. To his left, the lava river turned into a lava-fall, dropping into a large lava ocean. To his right, rolling hills of soul sand. There was a bluish fog obscuring the area and blue fires scattered here and there. It was hard to believe he was still in the Nether, more so than when he’d seen the crimson forest for the first time. At least that was red.

He took a few steps before he felt the ground give a little. Oh yeah. Soul sand. He stopped and looked around, spotting a different pattern in the sand that looked firmer. He tried to run over to it, but the soul sand rose up with each step he took, attempting to weigh him down. He steadfastly ignored that the sand looked like a dozen anguished faces and focused on reaching his goal.

After not too long his foot made contact with the different sand and when he met no resistance in trying to walk, he silently cheered in victory and continued on.

For the most part he was able to walk on the firmer sand, though he had to run through a patch or two of regular soul sand. Which normally would be okay, but, as it turned out, there were an abundance of regular skeletons that took pot shots at him every chance they got. His armor protected him, though he had to duck on one occasion or get an arrow to the face. That skeleton he dealt with out of spite, but the rest were easy to avoid.

He was walking along a wall, placing his torches as far apart as he could and still see them, when he saw a large white...something in the distance. As he got closer, he realized with a sense of awe that it was a massive rib cage.

The creature that belonged to must have been huge! He made his way over, having to walk through more soul sand than he would have like because the giant skeleton was embedded in it, but it was worth it.

The rib cage was set in the ground at an angle, the sternum on the same level Steve was. It was easily twice his size, making the ribs longer than he could make sense of. He didn’t even want to envision what kind of creature could be this big and exist in the Nether. It must have been terrifying.

He walked around the bones for a moment, struggling through the soul sand, when a series of whispers assaulted his ears. Startled, he put his back to the sternum and brandished his sword, but a few seconds later the whispers dissipated. His heart was beating so fast it was making him dizzy and he realized his arm holding the sword was shaking. Letting out a breath, he loosened his grip and winced when his hand throbbed in protest.

Those whispers had reminded him of when the enderman had made him wait while it fetched Herobrine. He had been sure that a large beast was going to grab him, luring him to the edge with barely audible whispers. Suddenly the ribcage didn’t seem all that awesome.

He stepped around it, deciding to continue on, when a loud piercing scream made him jump. A fireball hit the ground in front of him, too sudden for him to avoid it. The blast threw him into the sternum behind him. He cursed as his head banged around in the helmet, and then there was a sharp crack! For one heart stopping moment he thought he might have broken something, but when he moved, part of his armor moved awkwardly in response and he realized it must have cracked. Not great, he thought, feeling a give to his chestplate and leggings, but better than a broken bone.

Shaking his head, he looked up at the sound of another scream. With wide eyes he watched a fireball sail right at him. He tried to run, but the soul sand gripped onto his shoes, like grasping fingers pulling him down. Gasping as the fireball neared, he threw himself to the side, covering his head as the sand exploded just a few feet from him.

His heart was racing and his arms, when he propped himself up on them, were shaking. Adrenaline was making his heart work overtime. He looked over his shoulder to the ghast attacking him. It was facing away, but suddenly turned and opened its eyes and mouth wide, shooting another fireball at him.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself onto his knees and drew his sword, holding it at the ready. At the last possible moment, when he could feel the burning heat across his face, he swung his sword and hit the fireball, deflecting it away. 

Unfortunately it was not anywhere close to the ghast, who didn’t let him recover before blasting at him again. He sighed and held his sword up, stumbling to his feet. He was not in the mood to deal with a ghast.

He deflected a series of fireballs while inching his way off the soul sand, eager to get some distance between him and the ghast. It had taken to floating a set distance away, not getting closer but not flying away either. He knew he needed to get to cover, to break the ghast’s line of sight, but the damn soul sand was hindering his plan.

Finally he made it to the firmer sand and took off in a run, back the way he’d came. He could hear the ghast’s screams as it gave chase, fireballs exploding to his left and right. It’s screams sent shivers down his spine as he tried to dodge, a mantra of fuck fuck fuck playing on repeat through his head.

One fireball hit the ground at his feet and he jumped with a yell as the ground gave out, finally crossing between biomes to the nether waste he’d been traveling through. He landed with an oof on his stomach and looked back with wide eyes as the ghast stopped and fired another shot at him. He gasped and scrambled to his feet, hastily bringing his sword up to deflect the shot. He got lucky. The ghast was moving too quickly in a collision course with the fireball to correct itself, and was hit smack in the face. It fell with a dying scream as its body disintegrated, dusting the sand with ashes.

Steve was barely through a relieved breath before a second, way-too-close scream came from behind him. He didn’t even have time to turn around before a fireball slammed into his back.

The force of the hit knocked him forward. He didn’t have time to bring his hands up to catch himself, and closed his eyes in anticipation as his forehead hit the ground hard.

His vision swam and his head throbbed as he groaned and tried to roll onto his side. He stopped with a pained yell as something burned in his lower back, a sharp, stabbing pain that radiated along his right side. He sucked in a breath through his teeth and reached a shaking hand back to feel what was wrong. He got as far as feeling bent iron meeting flesh before a scream reminded him of his situation. He made to move but again, the pain stopped him. Get up, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth and pressing his palms to the netherrack, get up now!

He rolled to the side as the fireball slammed into the ground he’d just been on, pelting him with bits of netherrack. The stabbing pain became excruciating as he settled on his back. He could feel it like this, the bent piece of what could only be his chestplate digging into his lower back, thankfully to the right of his spine but tearing through the muscle where it entered him.

Moving his right arm hurt more than moving his left, so he transferred his sword to his left hand, holding it up to deflect another fireball. The ghast was floating above where the lava river turned into the lava-fall, while he was laying at the base of the part of the netherrack wall that created the bend. The ghast was keeping itself still as it fired fireball after fireball at him, and though Steve was able to deflect each one, his aim was completely shot. Some hit the wall towering above him, some careened off over the lava river, hitting the far wall. Some sailed past the ghast who paid them no mind, intent on him and him alone.

He was getting tired and he knew he wasn’t going to keep it up forever. His arm was shaking badly and his side was one pulsing point of pain, only getting worse each time he moved. His vision kept blurring every few seconds and he knew it was only a matter of time.

The ghast shot a fireball that went a little high and Steve swiped at it on instinct. It hit the edge of his sword and went shooting up, exploding high against the netherrack wall he was practically pressed against. He stared with wide eyes as a section of the wall slowly started to come loose from itself, until a sizable chunk dislodged itself and slammed into the ground directly between him and the ghast, so close he had to quickly draw in his legs to avoid them getting crushed. The ghast’s screams slowly tapered off into soft cries that eventually faded as it flew away, no longer interested in him.

Heart pounding and blood rushing through his ears, he let out a sigh and let himself go limp.

Great, one problem solved, one problem to go.

He stared up at the netherrack ceiling and just focused on breathing, though even that hurt. He had to take shallow breaths to avoid stretching his body around the piece of iron embedded in him. He grimaced, lips trembling as he swallowed down the urge to vomit. His vision was still blurring from his his faceplant, and now that he could focus on something other than keeping himself alive, he could feel something wet drip its way down his face. He brought a shaky hand up and wiped haphazardly across his cheek. His fingers came away bloody.

Despite it, he laughed softly.

He didn’t know how long he laid there in a daze, but eventually he became aware enough to know that he had to move. Blood from the gash on his forehead had trailed down both sides of his face, leaving itchy marks behind. His right side felt numb as long as he didn’t move, but if he did it flared up in burning agony as his body tried to move independently of the piece of iron inside it. The awkward way his armor had broken made it impossible for him to move both his body and armor as one.

Taking several slow breaths, he clenched his jaw and tried to turn onto his left side, but immediately yelled out in pain as the movement jostled the iron in a way that stretched the wound. He settled onto his back again and couldn’t slow his breathing as he tried to find some semblance of the peaceful numbness he’d just had. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just lay here for a little while longer, but even as he was thinking it he knew it was wrong. He needed help, or at the very least, he needed to not be out in the open in the Nether.

Once the pain dissipated into something manageable again, he turned instead onto his right side. It still hurt but he was able to fight his way through it. The iron was already pressed into his right side, it was more natural for it to move that way.

Now that he’d managed to get onto his side, he used his right arm to gently begin pushing himself into a sitting position. It hurt like a bitch and the feeling of something moving as it was tearing into him made nausea roll through his stomach, but eventually he was sitting straight up, panting in exertion. But he’d done it.

Next, after letting the pain mellow out, he took stock of his chestplate. There were cracks spider-webbing through a vast majority of it, the front cracked in two entirely, leaving a small strip of his shirt from neck to hip exposed. He swallowed as he noticed the shadow his broken chestplate cast against his shirt was much darker on the right side. He slowly brought his left arm back to feel the extent of the damage to the back of the armor, and sure enough, there was a matching crack down the back. His chestplate was no longer one whole piece, instead only held on his body by his arms and, in the case of the right piece, the bent iron in his back. And as far as he could tell, he just needed to push the armor on his right side straight back to dislodge the iron stabbing him. Easy enough.

He moved to slip his left arm out of the chestplate entirely when a wave of dizziness rushed through him. He closed his eyes and breathed evenly through his open mouth, willing the sensation to pass. After a few moments it did, leaving him feeling off, but he pulled his left arm free, letting that piece of the chestplate fall to the ground. Then he put both hands on the front of the remaining piece of chestplate. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pushed it towards him as hard as he could.

The piece of iron was ripped free of him and he yelled out in pain, feeling tears spring to his eyes. The wound throbbed horribly and he could feel blood leaking from it freely. It had already been bleeding—he had felt a wetness when the armor had still been on—but the iron had prevented the wound from bleeding freely as it was now.

Hurriedly, he shoved the rest of the chestplate off and took off his shirt with some difficulty to tie it around his waist. His hands were quickly coated in blood from the amount saturated in his shirt, and it made tying the shirt into a knot that much harder. Both arms were shaking by the time he was done and he had to keep swallowing down the urge to throw up. But the worst of it was over.

He hoped.

It took him several tries to stand, and even when he managed it, he had to use the wall as a support. His legs threatened to give out after every step and his lower back sent pulses of pain through his body at every little movement. He kept having to blink heavily in an effort to clear his vision, which wavered and blurred occasionally. He didn’t know if it was the head injury or the blood loss, which was becoming substantial in his opinion. His previously blue shirt was now entirely an ugly dark brownish, darkest around his wound and heavy with blood. The shirt was so soaked that it was starting to drip down, trailing tracks of blood down his legs and staining his jeans. The ruined leggings were in just as bad a condition as his chestplate had been but he didn’t want to take the time or effort to remove them. They had become loose and disjointed from each other, the armor around his thighs having taken more of a hit and become dented, keeping them in place. The armor around his shins and calves was no longer attached to the thigh pieces and had dropped to rest on top of his shoes, jangling with each step. But nothing was stabbing him, so he endured the discomfort.

The walk back the way he’d come felt like it was taking three times as long as he needed it to. He had the wall for a vast majority of the way, however, so he was making it farther than he probably would have without it. But the longer he walked, the more wrong he felt. His back pulsed and ached constantly, his head was throbbing, his vision was only making his nausea worse, and he felt hot, hotter than the Nether usually made him.

He stopped to catch his breath, pressing his right hand tentatively against the wound, his left pressed firmly against the wall to keep him upright. Even the softest of touches made his breath hitch. His hand was shaking when he turned it over. It was covered in old and fresh blood.

His breathing quickened. He felt dizzy and closed his eyes, shifting to press his upper back to the wall. Maybe...maybe he could rest.

He slid down the wall until he was sitting with his back pressed against it. Even with his eyes closed and sitting down, vertigo washed over him. He was tired of the pain, tired of feeling dizzy and sick.

He could rest for just a moment.

He pressed the back of his head against the wall, letting out a slow breath.

Just a moment...

Chapter Text

Awareness came to him in flashes.

There was a blur of red and white and black and purple, twisting and melding until he couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. Up was down and sound was little more than a buzzing in his ear. He felt overheated and dizzy and exhausted, he just wanted to sleep, leave him alone and let him finally rest.

His lower back hurt. It pulsed with pain alongside every rapid beat of his heart. The pain made him squirm to escape it, what was hurting him, why couldn’t he get away from it? He was stuck in an endless cycle as the pain made him writhe and the writhing made him hurt and the pain—

It settled, eventually. It was quiet and warm, wherever he was. He was laying on something hard, though under his head was a pliable cushion. Absentmindedly he ran his hands over the thin material covering the hard surface he was laying on. It was thick and had some give, though nothing like a bed.

Curious, he blinked open his eyes. It took him a lot longer than it should have to realize that there wasn’t something wrong with his eyes, it was just really dark in the room he was in. He couldn’t see anything save for a redstone torch on the other side of the room.

He made to stretch and stopped with a dry gasp that quickly devolved into coughs. Each tremble sent pain racing across his nerves, and by the time he was done, he felt even more exhausted than ever, slumping into the makeshift bed and closing his eyes to rest for just a moment. Everything ached like he’d just run two marathons back to back. Rest was definitely an appealing idea. 

When he next opened his eyes it was much lighter in the room, though he wouldn’t have been able to miss the two faces hovering over his own and staring down at him. As he blinked the sleep and blurriness away, a pair of white and a pair of purple eyes sharpened into focus. He blinked up at them, at a loss as they—well, Herobrine—seemed surprised to see him awake.

“Wha—“ He couldn’t even finish the word before his throat rebelled. It burned fiercely and Steve had never needed to drink water more in his life than in this exact moment.

Luckily, Herobrine had anticipated his plight because he held out a bottle full of a mysterious burgundy color. Steve would have been apprehensive about drinking something like that, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He accepted the bottle and downed its contents without a second thought, ignoring the lukewarm temperature and the mushroom-y taste. It was a soothing balm to his burning throat, and after the drink was gone, he felt like he could talk without his throat trying to tear itself to shreds.

“What...happened?” His voice sounded horrible, but it didn’t hurt as much to talk. It still burned, like he was sick and had a sore throat, but it was bearable.

“I think I should be asking you that,” Herobrine replied, taking the empty bottle and placing it to the side. The enderman made a noise that Steve interpreted as an agreement.

“I found the...the, uh...” His mind blanked. Herobrine raised a brow and the enderman tilted its head to the side, much like a curious dog. They were both staring at him and it was making it hard to think.

“You know...the place with...all the sand—um, soul sand?”

Just the look on Herobrine’s face made Steve feel foolish, but hey, head injury over here! Head injury and blood loss. He could be forgiven this time around.

“A soul sand valley?” Herobrine supplied helpfully.

“Yeah...that’s the one.” He cleared his throat, wincing at the roughness of his voice. “I found that...and some ghasts.”

Herobrine made a thoughtful noise while the enderman looked between the two of them. “Ghasts do love the openness the valley offers, so I’m not surprised you encountered some. But last I checked, their fireballs don’t look like stab wounds.”

At the mention of his wound, it came rushing to the center of his awareness, burning along his nerves as if angry it had been forgotten. He sucked in a breath and felt for his shirt, but he met only his own smooth skin and a tightly wrapped bandage of some kind. He lifted his head as best he could to look, even though the effort caused a headache to throb behind his eyes. The bandage wasn’t normal cloth but looked and felt a little leathery. And his skin had been cleaned of blood at some point, leaving only a phantom itch and clamminess behind.

He also realized that he was shirtless, but he had too much going on to feel more than the barest hint of embarrassment.

The rest of it could come later.

He rested a hand on his stomach over the wrapping and laid his head back down. Great, now he had a headache. “One...of the fireballs...dented my armor.”

“I see.” Herobrine said, frowning. The enderman next to him trilled something that made his frown deepen. Steve looked between them.

“What?”

Herobrine huffed. “Your friend was asking after your wellbeing.”

“Oh.” Steve looked at the enderman and reached out. His arm trembled as he held it out, and after a moment of hesitation, he patted the enderman on the arm. “I’ll be...okay buddy. Lucky you found me...when you did.” He coughed, wishing his throat wasn’t so damn scratchy. “Wait, what happened...with that anyway?” Was it getting hard to breathe or was it just him? He was having trouble catching his breath. Maybe the ghast fireball to the back had damaged his lungs somehow? Gods he hoped not. He had enough on his plate.

“I found you,” Herobrine corrected. “I watched you leave and when you weren’t back within a reasonable time, I went looking for you. I followed your new torch trail. You were sitting against a wall covered in blood and missing half your armor. Your friend here was waiting for you at your portal and followed me when it saw you passed out in my arms. It’s been nagging at me ever sense.”

There was a lot to unpack there, but it could wait for later. Herobrine glared at the tall mob, but Steve smiled tiredly at it. “Aw...you were worried...about me? That’s...” He took a stuttered breath. Was it pathetic of him to get choked up about having a mob care more about him than other humans would have? He could feel his eyes burning but he didn’t want to upset the others, or have to answer any awkward questions, so he blinked hard to hold back any tears. He probably looked pathetic enough. “Thanks buddy.”

The enderman warbled at him and attempted to comfort him with a pat of its own, though it did little more than rest its hand on his arm, lift it, and then bring it down again in a mechanical way. But Steve appreciated the sentiment.

It said something again and then disappeared suddenly with a burst of purple sparks. Steve blinked at the empty space and then shot Herobrine a confused look. Herobrine just shrugged.

“Don’t look at me, enderman are hard to understand without them having some weird hyperfixation on a human.”

Steve hummed, closing his eyes. “Yeah...I wonder...what’s up...with...that.” He felt exhausted. Lifting his arm earlier had taken more out of him than he’d thought it would, and constantly trying to catch his breath had left him dizzy.

He heard footsteps walking away before Herobrine said, “I will let you rest. Yell or have your enderman fetch me if something comes up.”

Steve might have nodded or made a noise of agreement, but he wasn’t sure. Within a few seconds, he was asleep.

He woke up with more clarity than before, and a kink in his neck.

Groaning, he automatically moved to stretch but hissed as his wound protested, sending a bone deep ache through his body. Instinctively he reached down to touch the bandage over the wound, checking for blood. But all he felt was the leathery outside of a clean bandage.

Sighing, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked to clear away the last vestiges of sleep. The room was dark again, but he wasn’t alone. The enderman was standing to the side, eyes closed and still as a statue. He tried to call out but just like last time, his throat burned in protest, dryer than ever. He felt like he’d just gargled sand and then washed it away with lava.

Looking to his other side, he saw another one of those bottles filled with the mysterious burgundy liquid. He didn’t remember the taste with fondness, but it was better than nothing and was at least palatable. He reached for it, wincing as the muscles in his arm protested, but grabbed it with ease and uncapped it to down the whole thing greedily in seconds. Once finished, he felt a thousand times better.

He struggled briefly to place the bottle back on the table—the stretch of his arm, even his left one, tensed and flexed whatever muscles had been damaged in his back—but managed without too much trouble. When he turned his head to survey the rest of the room again, he was met with the steely gaze of the enderman hovering over him. He tensed as its sudden appearance startled him, wincing as his wound sent a shock of pain through his body.

“Hey there big guy,” he said, voice still rough but it didn’t hurt to talk anymore, so that was cool. He was getting real tired of hurting. “I’d ask what’s good, but you can’t talk so it’d be pointless.”

The enderman made sounds that Steve assumed were an attempt at conversation, but it just sounded like a jumbled mess to him. Though, by the slight trembling and barely open mouth, he liked to imagine the enderman was indignant at his assumptions.

He smiled and held up his hands, then with a grimace decided to rest them on his stomach instead. “Okay, maybe you can talk, but it’s not like I can understand you. We’d need Herobrine to have a conversation.” He pursed his lips, humming in consideration. “I wonder how he can do that anyway,” he muttered, mostly to himself. The enderman made more warbling sounds, gesturing at itself, him, the room at large, and then the door. Steve followed its long, flailing arms until it stopped, then raised a brow at it.

“Yeah...” He said, stretching the word out and shrugging—slowly to not agitate his wound, “I didn’t get any of that.”

The enderman huffed and threw up its hands, as if in defeat. Steve couldn’t suppress a smile and grinned at it. “It’s okay, we’ll figure something out. And you know what else we need to figure out?” Steve waited as the enderman perked up, giving him its full attention. “We should figure out a name for you. You probably already have a name but unless you get Herobrine to tell it to me, I’m just going to call you...hm, probably Buddy. That work for you?” It was the name of any dog that stuck around for more than a few days and though he was sure it would take offense to being compared with a dog, Steve honestly couldn’t think of a name cool enough to fit an enderman. So Buddy it was.

The enderman tilted its head, much like a dog would, and Steve nodded. “Yep, it’s perfect. I’m going to call you Buddy from now on, understand?”

The enderman pointed at him and trilled something, then pointed at itself and trilled something else. Steve didn’t know if he was just imagining things, but it kinda sounded like that second sound had a questioning inflection to it.

Buddy lowered its arms and nodded at him, then suddenly teleported away, leaving him alone in the room. He almost called out to Buddy but he choked back the words. He was fine, he didn’t need to monopolize Buddy’s time. He was probably in the safest place he could be in the Nether. Herobrine wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

Herobrine had saved him. It hadn’t fully hit him until now that Herobrine had gone out of his way to track him down and make sure he was okay, or at the very least check up on him. If Herobrine hadn’t done that, he would probably be dead right now.

He’d never had someone care enough to do that for him before. His whole life, he’d had only himself to count on. Alex was a surprising turn of events but even she wouldn’t enter the Nether to come rescue him. She didn’t care enough to. Maybe she had never—

He put his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes closed. Stop it, he scolded himself, you’re lucky enough to have her as a friend. She has her own life.

It didn’t make him feel any better. He hated when he got like this. After twenty years, he would have thought himself above being hurt by the Overworld’s treatment of him. He would have though himself immune to the feeling of abandonment and loneliness.

But, deep down, he knew it would always bother him, and he would hide those negative emotions with jokes and a mask of indifference. So what if the Overworld wanted nothing to do with him? He didn’t need them either.

He looked around for anything to distract him from his thoughts. The room was fairly empty, just the makeshift bed, the table next to it, and the redstone torch. And the door.

Maybe getting out of the room would do him some good. A little change of scenery never hurt anyone.

...Ignoring that a little change of scenery had literally resulted in his current condition.

He placed his hands on either side of him, waist level, and pushed himself up slowly. His back gave a twinge and then flared in pain the higher up he sat, but he grit his teeth through it. He didn’t want to be in here anymore.

When he was sat up enough to dangle his legs over the edge of the cot, he had to just sit there and breath. But other than his muscles aching like he’d just had a rigorous workout and his lower back pain, he felt...okay. Okay enough to do a little exploring, at least.

Scanning the room again, something niggled in the back of his mind. After a thorough sweep, he realized that both the remainder of his armor and his bundle was missing. He reached up as if to make sure his helmet was really gone and realized that there was a thinner bandage around his head. He touched the bandage over his forehead and there was a faint ache in response, like a bruise. Then he dropped his hand to his hip. He understood why the armor was removed—it must have been in horrible condition—but where was his bundle? It wasn’t special to him, he just didn’t remember losing it. Had it happened during the ghast chase? Or when the fireball hit him? Or had Herobrine removed it along with his armor?

He supposed it didn’t matter. A couple of torches, some food, and a fire resistance potion weren’t going to do him good anyway.

He looked down and made a face. He was still wearing his blood streaked jeans and shoes, but with his shirt missing, he felt a little awkward running around someone else’s home. But it couldn’t be helped.

Okay well he could stay here and rest but like that was going to happen.

Gingerly, he slid off the makeshift bed until his foot touched the ground. Then he slowly applied his weight to it. Everything was fine until he put weight on his right side, which sent a deep pulse of pain up his back. His stomach rolled and he gasped, but after a few minutes everything settled into something manageable.

“You’ve got this,” he muttered under his breath to himself. “Baby steps.” He used the cot, then the bedside table, then the wall to inch his way to the door. It was slow going but he felt alright.

He pushed the door open and peeked into the hallway. Same as before—red carpet, lanterns, and paintings lining a long hallway his door was in the middle of. The hall stretched quite a ways on either side of him and he frowned, then decided that it didn’t matter which direction he took. He didn’t know where anything was anyway.

Though...he was pretty certain that he hadn’t seen any doors other than the double doors Herobrine had lead him to both times he’d been in here, so he figured he must have been in a part of the fortress he hadn’t been in before.

He took a step out into the hall and went left, as he was already leaning against that wall and it was better for his left side to do all the hard work keeping himself upright required. He could manage using his left side. His right side would tire him out much too quickly.

As he walked down the hall, he found his eyes drawn to the many paintings. Sometimes he saw paintings that depicted the same subject, and sometimes the painting looked too abstract to make sense of. But it did succeed in breaking up the monotony of the nether brick, so he supposed it served a purpose. One recurring picture seemed to be a dark creature with three wither skeleton heads. It was unsettling to look at and sent chills down his spine when he stopped to inspect one depiction of it.

The hall eventually ended, after what felt like two hours but was probably only twenty minutes. He reached the end and was met with an intersection—the hall split left or right. Again, there was nothing discernible about either direction, no special landmark or sign that indicated which direction lead where.

He took a step to his left, all too happy to continue leaning on the wall, when he heard something.

“...”

He froze, breath hitching.

The whispers.

Just like the ledge by his portal and the giant skeleton in the soul sand valley.

He full-body shuddered and held his breath, straining to hear it again. After a few seconds he did, to his right. He bit his lip and looked down the hall, on both sides, but nothing had changed. Both hallways were identical, with no indication of what could be making that sound.

Hesitantly, he crossed to the other side and started making his way down the right hallway. It was a bad idea, but he was curious. He knew that he would have just turned around and backtracked if he’d taken the left path, so he figured he might as well save himself the time and energy. Injured though he was, it didn’t stop him from answering the call of adventure.

“...”

It came again, no closer or farther away, so soft it was barely audible but somehow clear enough for him to hear it. He was half-hoping this was all a dream and if something did attack him, he’d wake up and be back in the safety of his room, Herobrine and Buddy there for company, or maybe he’d wake up in the Overworld and this whole thing will have been one horrible nightmare. But he knew his luck wasn’t that good.

This hallway was shorter and he was coming up on what looked like a staircase leading down. The thought of stairs made him grimace, but the sound of bones rattling made him freeze, fear shooting down his spine and tingling across his nerves. His breathing picked up and his heart starting pounding, loud in his ears.

Fuck, he’d forgotten about the wither skeletons.

He stared with wide, horrified eyes as a wither skeleton came into view, ascending the staircase not more than twenty feet ahead of him. It came to a stop at the landing and noticed him immediately, raising its sword and rushing him.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t move. He was too injured to take on a wither skeleton, hell he could barely fight one while in top condition.

Stumbling backwards, he cried out in fear and then in pain as he tripped over his own feet and fell. His stab wound protested his carelessness with a searing pain against his lower back.

The wither skeleton was practically on top of him and all Steve could do was hold his arms up in front of him and squeeze his eyes shut, hoping that the killing blow would be clean and fast.

But it never came.

The rattling stopped and Steve peaked open first one, then the other eye, lowering his arms when it became clear that the wither skeleton wasn’t going to attack him. It was standing a few feet from him, sword lowered to the point where the tip touched the ground, just staring at him.

Steve stared back, not daring to move in case that triggered the wither skeleton into action again. Adrenaline was still coursing through his body. His heart hurt it was pounding so hard.

Then, suddenly, the wither skeleton turned and ran away, just as Steve heard a call of his name being yelled.

“Steve!”

And then Herobrine was there, crouching in front of him and putting his hands on Steve shoulders, shaking him. He’d never seen such a clear expression of worry—or any emotion other than anger—on Herobrine’s face, but here it was, and for him no less.

“What happened? Did it hurt you?”

Steve worked his throat but nothing came out. He was too shocked, staring past Herobrine’s shoulder to the staircase the wither skeleton had retreated to. Herobrine moved into his line of vision and gave him another shake. Finally, Steve found his voice.

“N-No—no, I’m not h-hurt.”

Herobrine’s worry flickered to relief for maybe one second before melting into anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

Steve blinked, taken aback by the swiftness and intensity of Herobrine’s anger. “W-What?”

“You’re injured and you thought wandering around a fortress filled with wither skeletons was a good idea? The fuck made you think that!”

“I—I—“ He didn’t have an answer. It seemed trivial in the face of Herobrine’s anger. He should have remembered the wither skeletons. He should have stayed in his room to rest. He—He should have—

He was shaking, and Herobrine noticed it too if the way he leaned back and took a deep breath was any indication.

“Okay.” Herobrine stood and held out his hand. Mind in a fog of confusion and lingering fear, Steve grabbed it and let Herobrine pull him to his feet. He winced as his wound stretched, but he couldn’t feel it as much. The adrenaline must have muted it. He was thankful for that, but he knew the adrenaline would fade soon and he’d crash.

Herobrine turned around and then crouched, holding his arms back. “Get on.”

“Wha—“

Herobrine cut him off with a glare over his shoulder. “Get. On. Now.”

Swallowing down a protest, Steve stepped into the loose rings Herobrine’s arms formed and let the man hoist him up into a piggyback. He didn’t know what to do with his arms and awkwardly rested his hands on Herobrine’s shoulders as he started walking back the way Steve had come.

It was quiet the walk back. Steve wondered if Herobrine could feel how hard his heart was pounding right now, his chest pressed flush to Herobrine’s back as it was. He also wondered how Herobrine had even found him, but decided to leave his questions for later. He imagined that Herobrine wouldn’t be too open to answering him right now.

They arrived back at his room and Herobrine knelt to let Steve off his back. Carefully, Steve put his weight back on his feet and instinctively grabbed onto Herobrine’s shoulder—the closest thing to him—when his back acted up. The adrenaline was fading like he knew it would, and the pain of his injuries was hitting him fully again.

Herobrine stood and grabbed onto Steve’s elbow to help him to the cot. Steve sat and let out a relieved sigh. Taking weight off his legs felt wonderful.

“Here.”

Steve opened his eyes—when had he closed them?—to see Herobrine holding out another bottle. Steve took it and drank without hesitation, completely ignoring the temperature and taste and only savoring the feeling of smooth liquid running down his throat.

Once he was done, Herobrine took the bottle and though Steve thought to finally ask what was in those drinks, as he wasn’t as hungry as he ought to be after...however long he’d been out, he yawned instead and laid down. Herobrine frowned at him.

“Don’t leave this room again until I deem you well enough, do you understand?”

Steve wanted to sass him—yes, mom—but he figured that Herobrine was already cross with him. He really wouldn’t be earning any favors. Instead he nodded and said quietly, “I understand.”

“Good.”

For some reason, Steve wasn’t okay with leaving things like that. Herobrine had saved his life, again.

Taken by a sudden urge to show his genuine appreciation of what Herobrine had done for him and continued to do for him, he lifted his hand and reached out. It was shaky and Herobrine noticed. He reached for Steve’s hand, undoubtedly to press it down and berate him for moving, but Steve caught his hand instead and squeezed it, smiling kindly at the startled look on Herobrine’s face.

“Thank you.”

Herobrine didn’t squeeze back, but he didn’t pull his hand away either.

“You’re welcome.”

Steve counted that as a good sign.

Chapter Text

Herobrine closed the door to Steve’s room and stood right outside it, staring down at his hand.

It was bizarre how easily Steve touched him. He’d gone so long isolated from humans, having one nearby was throwing him for all sorts of loops. Humans were tactile creatures, sure, but Herobrine had never been fond of strangers touching him. He found that now, with Steve, he didn’t mind it as much, but he didn’t know if that was because he just didn’t care at this point or if his and Steve’s connection with the Void helped with that. He supposed it didn’t matter.

He was still angry that Steve would be foolish enough to risk his life to wander directionless around a hostile fortress, but it was fading quickly in the wake of Steve’s actions. Because Steve...wasn’t afraid of him. Even during their first encounter, it had been more shock than anything else.

Herobrine wasn’t used to that. Humans didn’t like the Nether and the ones who saw him ran away screaming, fearing for their lives. The last time he’d been around people who weren’t scared of him had been when he used to live in the Overworld and was still human himself. But that was over 200 years ago at this point.

He didn’t remember humans fondly—he’d shed his own humanity, after all—but Steve was frustratingly different. Though, thinking back on what the Wither had told him, his and Steve’s shared connection with the Void was probably why Herobrine didn’t feel the need to scare him away.

He clenched his hand into a fist, stepping away from the door and walking down the hall. He could still feel the phantom squeeze of Steve’s hand gripping his and he didn’t know if what he felt was annoyance or something else he didn’t want to put a name to.

All he did know was that he wanted to talk to the Wither, so he made his way there. It hadn’t escaped him that Steve had been in the hallway leading directly to it. Just down the steps and a little farther would have landed Steve right on the Wither’s doorstep.

He descended the stairs and was met with Steve’s enderman. Internally he groaned. It opened its mouth but Herobrine interrupted before it could get started.

“I swear, if you ask me how he’s doing, I’m going to kill you.”

The enderman slumped in place, making a pathetic whining sound that only irritated him further.

“I can’t help if I worry.”

“Why are you even worried about him in the first place?” Herobrine narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “You’re not behaving as you should.”

It shrugged. “My Master told me to.”

Herobrine blinked, taken aback. “She did?” Why would the End Dragon be interested in a human enough to send an enderman to watch over him?

It nodded. “I am to watch him, although I stay longer because I want to. I think he’s nice. He doesn’t treat me like a monster.”

Herobrine felt his heart lurch at that, but he rolled his eyes, ignoring the feeling. “Yeah, he seems to have a startling lack of self-preservation.” Secretly he thought it was refreshing, to have a human be open minded instead of fearful or even violent. Steve seemed genuine in his curiosity, but humans were fickle. There was a reason mobs were ingrained with a hostility towards them.

“So, he is well?”

Herobrine walked past the endermen, done with the conversation. “Yes, he’s fine, or he will be as long as he stays put and stops trying to get the wither skeletons to murder him.”

He stopped at the threshold to the Wither’s chamber and looked back. He could tell that the enderman wanted to say more, but again Herobrine spoke before it could. “Look, if you’re so worried just go see him for yourself.”

The enderman, for all intents and purposes, pouted. “We can’t communicate.”

“That’s not my problem.” Without waiting for the enderman’s response, Herobrine passed into into the Wither’s chamber.

As he walked up to it, only its middle head paid any attention to him. He knelt in front of it, waiting for it to speak first. It did after several moments of scrutiny.

A visit so soon? To what do I owe the honor?

Herobrine wanted so badly to be sassy or sarcastic in his response, but the Wither did not take shit from anyone, so he swallowed down what he wanted to say and instead said, “I just have a question, if you’ll indulge me.”

I assume this has to do with your human.

Herobrine frowned at ‘your human.’ Yeah, his human to save every godsdammed second, it seemed. “He just had an encounter with a wither skeleton.”

Is that so?

The way it was said led Herobrine to believe that the Wither already knew that and was just messing with him. But he couldn’t call it out on that.

“Yes. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m more curious about where their encounter was—you know, just up the staircase to your chamber?”

When the Wither spoke, its voice was curt, having lost the slight playful edge from before.

What is your question?

Herobrine frowned. “Are you trying to lure him here?”

They stared at each other, Herobrine defiant but still kneeling to show his submission and the Wither expressionless, floating in place gently like always. Then, its outer two heads swiveled to look at him as well, giving him its full attention.

I’m curious about him.

That answer was not satisfactory. “Why?”

Again, the Wither was silent while they stared at each other. Herobrine had to ruthlessly shove down the urge to tell the ancient being to hurry the fuck up and stop being so godsdammed vague.

It’s not for you to know.

Herobrine took a controlled breath in and steadily let it out. He was suddenly so angry he was shaking a little. The Wither continued, either having not noticed his building rage or not caring about it.

I will not deny that I wish to speak with him. But if it bothers you so much, I will wait a bit longer.

Herobrine frowned, momentarily distracted out of the anger that was already trying to bubble back up to the surface. “It doesn’t bother me.”

Despite the Wither’s emotionless face, Herobrine could hear it’s smug amusement when it spoke next.

My mistake. Regardless, I will cease my attempts for now. But I expect you to bring him to me when I so desire.

But why! He wanted to yell. Instead he bit out, “Fine.”

First the End Dragon and now the Wither. What was going on?

Before he could lose himself to his anger and provoke the Wither into disciplining him, he left the room. The enderman was gone, lucky for it, but the first wither skeleton he encountered suffered a quick death as he ignited its bones from the inside out. It didn’t make him feel any better.

He cooled off a little on his walk back to his room, and when he arrived he felt more in control of himself. There was little for him to do, so he busied himself making another set of ‘potions’ for his troublesome guest.

He started by checking his brewing stand for its blaze powder level. Finding it sufficient, he then mashed nether warts in a bowl until they were a chunky soup-like mess, then finely chopped up red and brown mushrooms, keeping those on the side. The bottles were filled with the nether wart soup and set into the appropriate slots on the brewing stand. He ignited the blaze powder underneath each bottle, heating the soup. Once it started to boil, he added the mushrooms, dividing them evenly into all three bottles. Then he slotted a ghast tear into the brewing stand. Once the tear was drained and the blaze powder extinguished itself, Herobrine had three concoctions of an elixir that was part drink, part food, and part regeneration potion. It wasn’t ideal for humans, who normally needed water just to survive, but for now it would help.

By the time he was done, his anger had dulled significantly, into something more like mild irritation. What was done, was done. There was no use dwelling on the past.

He store two of the bottles for later, keeping one potion and retrieving another roll of hoglin skin bandages to take to Steve’s room.

He knocked on the door but got no response, so he assumed Steve was sleeping. He entered the room and was right—Steve was asleep, or maybe he had passed out after his little adventure.

Herobrine walked over to Steve and watched him for a moment. With a standard bed out of the question, Herobrine had done his best to make it comfortable for Steve to recover, but though he didn’t feel like he’d succeeded too well at that, Steve seemed indifferent, if the way he was sleeping was any indication. He had turned onto his side, back to Herobrine, and was breathing evenly in and out.

Herobrine let his eyes wander, realizing that he had never taken the time to just look at Steve. He frowned as his eyes traced various marks across Steve’s back. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the redstone torch, but he was pretty sure they were old scars.

Steve had mentioned that the people of the Overworld were not friendly, and Herobrine had even told him why, but he hadn’t connected the dots. He wondered how Steve could still be so...happy. Or want to return to the Overworld at all.

...Actually, his insistence on staying in and exploring the Nether made a lot more sense. Maybe he didn’t want to return to the Overworld.

It was pathetic, really. Herobrine shouldn’t care about Steve or his personal experience, but the longer he stared at the old scars on Steve’s back, the more he felt responsible, in a way. Of course there was nothing he could do about it now, but Steve didn’t seem like the type of person to deserve those scars. And now he had another one, one that easily could have been avoided if Herobrine had been there with him.

He hadn’t left the fortress in a few decades at least, but already Steve had prompted him to do just that, when he had a bad feeling after Steve had been absent for longer than normal. He could make another exception.

He reached out and shook Steve’s shoulder, rousing him from sleep. “Wake up.”

Steve groaned and tried to brush his hand away, but Herobrine just shook harder until Steve turned over to glare at him. Though, once he seemed to realize who he was, his glare lessened and he sat up with a yawn, blinking blearily at him.

“What is it?”

“Here.” Herobrine handed him the bottle, which he took with a sigh. He uncapped it and drank. Herobrine was under no delusions that it was good, but he was impressed by Steve’s neutral reaction.

Steve pulled the bottle away when it was empty. “What’s in this anyway? It’s...” Steve cleared his throat and then coughed. “...Interesting.”

“It’s nether wart, mushrooms, and a ghast tear.” He accepted the bottle when Steve handed it back to him. “It’s the best I could do without water, plus I didn’t know if you would be up to eating so I wanted to make it more like a soup that happened to have regenerative properties.” He shrugged. “Not sure how well it will work but I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

“That’s...pretty amazing, actually. You didn’t have to do that.”

For a moment Herobrine considered brushing off Steve’s sentiment, but the human just looked so genuine, sitting injured with a small smile—he didn’t want to be rude. He normally didn’t have a problem with that, but he could show some humility every once in a while.

“I don’t mind,” he said as he sat the bottle on the table and held up the bandages. “I want to check if your wound is healing. And then I think you’re okay to return to the Overworld, if you’d like. I’m sure you’d feel better there.”

“Well...I mean, I don’t mind it here.” Steve gave a half shrug, on his good side. “But I do kinda miss water, so I might have to do that anyway.”

Herobrine nodded, ignoring the misplaced triumph he was feeling at hearing Steve be hesitant to leave. He didn’t understand why he would feel good about Steve wanting to stay in the dangerous hell dimension that hurt him in the first place, but maybe it was just his general dislike of humans as a whole which influenced that. He was Herobrine and Steve still preferred his company over other humans. How else was that supposed to make him feel?

“Lift your arms a little.” Steve obeyed and Herobrine got to work. He unwound the soiled bandage, which had a large blood stain on the inside. The skin around the wound was also covered in dried blood—he had been too busy trying to cover it to worry about wiping the blood away. It made the area look worse than it really was, because when Herobrine tentatively felt around the wound, the skin was in the beginning stages of knitting itself back together. Much slower than a traditional regeneration potion, but progress nonetheless.

Satisfied that the potions were working, Herobrine rewrapped the wound to be safe. Once done, he gestured to Steve’s head. “You can probably remove that if you’d like.”

Steve reached up to pull the head wrap off. “I’d forgotten that was even on.” His forehead was slightly bruised, a vast improvement from when there was a bleeding gash a few days ago.

“Looks like your forehead healed up nicely and your back is healing up well too.” He gathered the old bandages and the empty bottle. “Are you ready to leave now, or would you like to stay?”

Clearly indecisive, Steve bit his lip and picked at a loose thread on his jeans—which, Herobrine noticed, were also stained with dried blood. The man was a mess.

“I guess I should get back,” Steve eventually said.

“Then I will help you out.”

Steve nodded and then scooted closer to the edge of the makeshift bed before lowering himself to the ground. He slowly eased his weight onto his feet and stumbled with a hiss of discomfort when he stood upright. Herobrine reached out to grab his elbow and steady him, shuffling his burden awkwardly into his other arm. “You good?”

“Y-Yeah,” Steve said, instinctively grabbing onto Herobrine’s arm in kind as he took small steps towards the door. “Just a little tender still.”

After a few more steps, Steve let go of his arm and Herobrine took that as a cue to do the same, stepping back while he was at it to give Steve space. Whatever weakness that had seized Steve was gone—he was walking confidently around the room, nary a limp to his step.

Herobrine moved over to the door and held it open, prompting Steve to walk through it and out into the hall. Herobrine followed behind and then turned right.

They walked in silence that Herobrine had no hang ups about letting continue, but he was getting the feeling that Steve wasn’t comfortable with silences like this and was about to say something.

And, sure enough—

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You have...powers, right? Like, abilities that a human doesn’t?”

Herobrine side-eyed Steve, wondering where he was going with this. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you use them that often?”

Herobrine frowned, glancing at him this time. “What makes you think that I don’t use them often?”

“Well, I mean...” Steve trailed off and then gestured at him. Herobrine looked down and realized he was still carrying the empty bottle and blood stained bandages. With a brief thought, the items disappeared as he teleported them away.

“I was just thinking, you know, if I had powers like that, I’d probably be using them nonstop.”

They were more similar than Herobrine had originally thought. “I did use them, when I first got them. But it became trivial after a while. Teleporting is something that’s second nature to me, sure, but sometimes I feel the need to just...get my hands dirty, so to speak. If that makes sense.”

Steve hummed. “Yeah, I can see your point. How long have you been here anyway?”

Herobrine hesitated, then said, “I believe it’s been a little over 200 years at this point.”

“2–200 years?” Steve breathed, stopping in his tracks. Herobrine glanced at his expression of wonder, pausing as well. Was it really so impressive? “That’s incredible.”

Herobrine shrugged. “It lost its appeal long ago.” He continued walking and after a few moments heard Steve’s footsteps start up again, but the man didn’t speak. Good, he didn’t want to be talking about this. It was inevitable that a conversation discussing how long he’d been in the Nether would lead to how he got here in the first place. He wasn’t ready to reveal to Steve that he had made a deal with the Wither and paid the price for it. It had given him some of its power. It had promised him things it didn’t have domain over. It had ultimately landed him trapped here, hated by the Overworld and the Aether.

They reached the staircase leading up to the outer walkways and ascended. The enderman was waiting at the top. Herobrine was displeased to see it, but Steve seemed happy.

“Buddy! There you are! I was wondering when I’d be seeing you.”

Herobrine stopped dead in his tracks, sudden enough that Steve bumped into him with a quiet ‘oof.’

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked when he turned around to stare incredulously.

“Did you name an enderman Buddy?”

Steve’s face flushed as he looked away, embarrassed.

“So? What’s wrong with Buddy?”

It was so absurd that Herobrine couldn’t fully hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing if we’re talking about pets. But an enderman is not a pet.”

“I know that!”

Herobrine shook his head, but he was still smiling. Seeing that, Steve also smiled, then looked at the enderman.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“The concept of having a name does not mean anything to me.”

Steve—of course having no idea what the enderman had said—nodded sagely as if hearing exactly what he expected, looking pointedly at him. “See, it doesn’t mind.”

“Well, since Buddy’s here, it can walk you back to your portal.” Steve looked back at him, his smile dimming somewhat. Herobrine ignored how much that almost made him retract his statement and even offer to let Steve stay longer. “Try not to do anything to aggravate your wound before it can heal. I know that might be hard for you, but try your best.”

Steve laughed weakly but it was nowhere near the reaction Herobrine was expecting, and he didn’t know why the mood had changed so quickly.

“I guess I’ll see you later,” he said when it became clear Steve wasn’t going to say anything. He turned to leave but stopped when he felt Steve grab his hand.

“Wait!”

Herobrine did, turning to him. Steve looked panicked, eyes wide as they stared at each other, then Herobrine pointedly looked at their hands. Steve followed his gaze and then let go as if burned, his cheeks reddening again.

“I just—thank you again. For everything.”

Herobrine didn’t know what to say. His mind was just filled with white noise as he tried to make sense of how this singular human was able to bash his way through all of Herobrine’s defenses so easily.

The enderman had said that it liked Steve because he didn’t treat it like a monster. Herobrine could relate to that. 

Not trusting himself not to say something foolish, he nodded. Then he turned and walked away.

Steve watched until Herobrine disappeared down into the halls again, and then he let out a sigh and looked at Buddy. “Well that could have gone better. Why did I do that? I couldn’t just say ‘hey thanks for saving my life’ like a normal person?” He muttered to himself as he and Buddy walked the rest of the way to his portal.

When they arrived, he stood there and stared at it, frowning. He didn’t want to return to the Overworld, but the Nether just wasn’t conducive to healing stab wounds. Plus, he knew he needed water. But, despite everything, he liked being there and with how friendly Herobrine was being, he could only see himself liking it more. It was nice having someone to talk to who didn’t have a preconceived notion about him—other than what a helpless moron he was.

But, for now he had to return. With a sigh, he walked through the portal.

Having been away from the Overworld for at least two full days, it was a jarring transition from dark and hot to blindingly bright and cool.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was refreshing to breathe air not smelling of smoke, and he hadn’t realized how hot he was until the cool breeze brushed past him.

“Well this is quite the surprise.”

Steve snapped his eyes open at the unfamiliar male voice and then immediately felt tears begin to well up from the brightness. He settled on squinting as he waited for his eyes to fully adjust, looking at the figure leaning against his house. The dark cloak and crossbow on the back gave Steve the impression that this stranger was not from Alex’s village, and this wouldn’t be the first time Steve returned home from an expedition to find a wanderer squatting in his house.

“Who are you?” Steve asked, instinctively reaching down for his sword but of course it, and all his armor, were missing. He realized he was still shirtless and probably looked a lot worse for wear than he felt. Along with being shirtless, his pants were stained with blood and his skin was covered in a layer of dust, streaked through by sweat and patches of dried blood that hadn’t been fully wiped away.

“I was told you were dangerous and that I should be careful,” the stranger said, tilting his head to the side in consideration. “But looking at you now, I can’t see what they could possibly mean by that.”

“‘They?’ Did a village put you up to this? Who are you?” Steve really didn’t need this right now. He wanted to drink his weight in water, take a bath, and then sleep for a day.

The stranger pulled his hood down, revealing his face. Steve took that as a bad sign—clearly the man wasn’t afraid of Steve identifying him or about losing the element of surprise. He was a light skinned man with black hair and bright green eyes that rivaled Alex’s.

Steve was used to the looks people gave him, but this man was curiously blank. He wondered what exactly the stranger was told about him—that he didn’t already believe himself, of course.

“There’s a village not too far that way,” the stranger said, nodding his head to the side. So definitely Alex’s village. “They seem to be under the impression that you’re causing endermen to attack their village and that you’re trying to lure away one of their villagers.”

Did this man really believe that bullshit? 

“How—“

“I don’t believe that, of course,” the man said, interrupting Steve and making him glare. “But they seemed pretty adamant that you were some terrible evil I needed to get rid of.”

“‘Get rid of?’ What, did you come to kill me?”

He got a shrug in response. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Steve sighed and glanced behind him—no Buddy. Was the enderman not coming through the portal? He turned back to the stranger. He suddenly felt fatigued.

“Well, get on with it then.” He was being nonchalant but his heart was beating hard. He kept glancing around, looking for potential weapons, but there was a serious lack of anything even remotely helpful.

The man smiled. He was handsome in an effortless way, the kind of handsome that made people want to do things for you just to get acknowledgement. Steve wondered why he was, apparently, a hitman.

“Hold on now, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Then he bowed, but Steve got the impression it was meant to be mocking. “My name is Blake.”

“Wow, that’s so cool. But considering you just said you were here to kill me, I don’t really see why I should care.”

Blake laughed softly, straightening up. “That’s understandable, but I said we got off on the wrong foot, didn’t I? I—“

He took a step towards Steve and Steve took a step back, adrenaline shooting through his body in preparation for conflict, and then Buddy appeared between them, startling them both. It was looking at Steve and said something, then held out its hand. In it was a bottle of bright pink liquid.

“So this is what they meant.”

Steve grimaced, looking around Buddy at Blake. Blake seemed tenser but not overly concerned about the presence of an enderman, though his gaze was cast to the ground.

Shit, he did not want Blake to be seeing this. He didn’t even know why Buddy was nice to him, he definitely didn’t ask it to steal for him. How long had Buddy been doing this?

“I swear, I didn’t ask it to do this.”

“And yet it did. You’re telling me an enderman brought you something of its own volition?”

Well, when it was put that way...

“I think I’ve seen all I need to see,” Blake said, amusement coloring his tone. He risked looking up to meet Steve’s gaze. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

Steve watched him leave, a sense of dread coiling in his stomach and wrapping around his heart. Just as Blake had said, Steve was sure he was going to see him again, whether he wanted to or not.

Buddy make a soft noise for his attention and Steve rounded on it, grabbing the potion and holding it up. “What the fuck is this! Are you stealing from the village!?”

Buddy started gesturing wildly, like it was frantically trying to defend itself. Steve sighed and felt a thousand times more tired.

“Just—stop doing that,” Steve said, cutting Buddy’s rambling off. “No more stealing.” To himself he muttered, “They already hate me, no need to give them more reasons.”

When was he ever going to catch a break?

Chapter Text

Steve allowed himself one day of rest before he got to work.

Since his last set of armor had been thoroughly destroyed and his sword was also missing in action, and he had exactly zero iron ingots, he had to resort to something the thought of which he dreaded greatly.

Strip mining.

At least it was easy. He spent most of the morning down in the mine under his house, trying to keep his attention on his task instead of letting it wander like it was prone to do. Even with the healing potion Buddy had given to him two nights before, he didn’t want to take any chances.

Though, strip mining was so boring he was sure his brain was going to melt through his ears any moment.

Eventually he called it quits. He was tempted to gather more iron than he strictly needed, but not only did he want to get back to the Nether as soon as possible, he didn’t think he could handle staying in the mines for even a second longer.

He surfaced during noon, the sun high and bright in the sky. Coming from the stuffy, dank mines, the fresh air felt heavenly across his skin. He stopped to just bask in the warmth and breathe the fresh air. The one thing Steve preferred about the Overworld: quality of life.

Hiking his pack better onto his shoulder, he started the short walk back home. Although the mine was centered mostly under his house, the cave that lead down to it was a few minutes walk away, which he didn’t mind too much. He could have just dug a path down to it, but he didn’t like cutting through the land like that. He much preferred following the natural flow of things.

He approached his house from the back and rounded the corner, only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of Blake leaning against the fence. Steve was immediately suspicious and unimaginably annoyed in two seconds flat. Fuck, he’d actually choose to go back down into the mines than deal with this.

“Ah, there you are,” Blake said cheerfully. He straightened up from his slouch but remained leaning against the fence. “I was starting to think I’d need to send a rescue team after you.”

Steve frowned at the absurdity of that sentence and crossed his arms, glaring as he said, “They would rather let me die.”

Blake shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.”

Was Steve missing something? “Why are you here?” Had he fallen in the mine and knocked himself out? This was the most insane conversation he was having and he had met Herobrine for Gods’ sake.

Blake scrutinized him long enough for Steve to wonder if he had actually come here to do what he was hired for. The thought sent icy fear prickling down his spine, adrenaline shooting his heart rate through the roof. He had left his pickaxe down in the mine, so he glanced around subtly for a weapon, but he already knew there was none—though, he wasn’t above throwing dirt in someone’s eyes.

“You know, everyone seems pretty convinced that you’re dangerous,” Blake said, studying his nails like they were discussing the weather. “Just saying your name in the presence of any one of the villagers is enough to make them jumpy or jittery. I was offered emeralds, diamonds, potions, gold, even someone’s rare chain mail armor to take this job.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably, because okay yeah, he found that pretty impressive, that it would be worth so much to so many people, but they were talking about his death, so Blake would just have to excuse him if he wasn’t as enthused. Plus, Steve couldn’t see a better incentive that would entice Blake away from actually doing the job. Compared to the villagers, Steve had nothing of value.

“But...you had the opportunity to kill me last time and you didn’t take it. And don’t tell me it was Bu—uh, because of the enderman’s appearance. I’m sure an enderman would be no trouble for someone like you.” Shit, he really needed to get his act together. He already had a poor reputation, he didn’t need ‘on a first name basis with an enderman’ added to that list.

Blake narrowed his eyes at his slip up, but didn’t comment. “You should be grateful then, that I’ve decided not to kill you yet.”

Steve raised a brow and Blake chuckled.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I never paid much attention to stories of ghosts or evil cosmic entities or whatever, but the villagers must have some reason to believe that you’re dangerous. I mean, you do have endermen stealing potions for you.” Blake eyed him with a very ‘got you there’ look. “Not many people can claim to have an enderman at their beck and call, and the ones that can usually aren’t long for this world.”

“The villagers can go fuck themselves,” Steve said plainly. “Even if I could control an enderman, you saw me come out of a Nether portal, right? I can make my own potions if I want. And I’m not trying to steal anyone away from the village. I assume they’re talking about Alex and she wanted to be my friend first.”

“Alex huh? That little spitfire? Figures, she’s leagues above the rest of them, easily the most competent.” Blake smirked. “Makes me wonder why she wants to be friends with you.”

Steve grit his teeth, then took a deep breath. Getting angry would only be a detriment. “Ha ha. You should think about becoming a comedian.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He pushed off the fence, gesturing with a jerk of his head. “Now come on, I have something I need you for.”

Steve scoffed, taking a step towards his house, only to pause when Blake tsked.

“Ah ah,” he admonished, lowering his hand to rest on the hilt of his sword. “I wasn’t asking. You’re coming with me.”

Steve eyed the sword and briefly considered attacking despite his abysmal chances, but ultimately he just sighed and gestured to his house. “Can I get this iron into a furnace first?”

They stared at each other in silence while Steve waited for an answer, though he could tell Blake was calculating outcomes in his head, probably expecting Steve to attack him. With what, the heavy ass bag of iron ore? Or his own fists? Against a sword? Yeah okay.

Steve waited, becoming more irritated the longer Blake remained silent, until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Dude, seriously?”

“Fine, just, hurry up,” Blake allowed, leaning casually against the fence again like nothing had happened. “And don’t think to try anything funny.”

“Gee, I’ll do my best.” He would definitely try something funny if he had a damn weapon, but he didn’t so he just entered his house and started smelting the iron in the furnace. Then he emptied his pack of its unnecessary contents, keeping only some light food and torches. He felt naked without a weapon or armor as he walked back out to meet Blake.

“Walk.” Blake pointed to their left, a path which lead farther into the forest that Steve knew eventually opened up to a plains. It was the opposite direction of the village. “I’ll tell you where to go.”

Steve obeyed with an eye roll. He hoped this wasn’t going to take too long, he hadn’t packed much.

Considering he was walking to an unknown destination, unarmed, accompanied by a stranger who had already admitted he’d been hired to kill him, Steve tried to make the best of the situation. He had been so caught up in the Nether, he could admit he missed just walking through what the Overworld had to offer.

He kinda wished Herobrine was here, and not just because Blake would cease to be a problem but because he just wanted to talk to the guy. Herobrine was fairly reserved and so far had not shared much of his past, but it would be interesting to hear about the Overworld when Herobrine had been here last, a mind-boggling 200 years ago. Steve still struggled to wrap his head around that.

He reached the end of the forest and paused, glancing back at Blake. “This is where you say you’ve been joking this whole time, right?”

Blake smiled. “Sorry man, but no. Keep going.”

Steve did, reluctantly. It wasn’t ideal traveling through a plains biome with so little gear, especially if they got caught out at night.

As it was, they shifted from the cooler, shadowed area of the forest to the open, empty plains. The temperature rose noticeably, but it was comfortable for now. He was pretty sure there was a desert somewhere connected to this biome. Hopefully they wouldn’t head towards or—God’s forbid—into it, not during the middle of the day.

After a few minutes of walking, Steve was already over it. Hell, he’d been over it the moment he saw Blake. He didn’t want to be here, threatened to walk through a damn plains with no weapon or armor or reason. He had better things to do, like smelt his iron and make new gear. Or sleep. A nap sounded divine right now.

“Can you at least tell me what we’re doing? I don’t make it a habit to follow strangers, you know?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m following you,” Blake pointed out, and Steve threw a glare over his shoulder. Blake only smirked.

They walked and walked and walked, the whole time Steve debating whether he should just say ‘fuck it’ and attack. There was no way the other man would expect him to try anything after this long, and he was sure to have the element of surprise. He was sorely tempted to go through with it, but kept hesitating until it became too late when Blake suddenly told him to stop.

He did, casting a curious eye around. They were in the middle of the plains, no one and nothing around. It had been that way for some time now. The only change during the half hour or so they’d been walking was that the sun was slightly lower in the sky.

Steve swore to himself, if Blake was just messing with him...

“Dude, what—“

He never got a chance to finish, as something hard slammed into the back of his head. He fell to his hands and knees, squeezing his eyes closed and biting back a groan as his head throbbed painfully. He breathed heavily through his nose, feeling something wet tickle the back of his neck. Great, he was bleeding.

Again.

He opened his eyes when he heard Blake crouch in front of him, feeling sick to his stomach as his vision wavered in and out of focus. He tried glaring, but he was sure he didn’t look anything except pathetic.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Blake said, patting his cheek lightly. Steve instinctively jerked his head away, wincing as the movement made his headache intensify.

With a sigh Blake stood, shaking his head down at him. “I wouldn’t have to do this if I thought you would just cooperate, but I get the feeling you won’t, so if you think about it, it’s really your fault that it had to resort to this.”

Steve wasn’t fully following what Blake was saying, too caught up trying to breath through the pain in his head, but knowing Blake, it was something pretentious and infuriating. Much like Blake himself.

He looked up blearily, about to tell Blake to go fuck himself, but all he saw was a boot coming right for his face, and then he knew no more.

In the first stage of consciouness, though he was mostly asleep, he was aware of how cold he was, and how cold his general surroundings were. Once that registered in his mind, he realized he was shivering badly and that a multitude of things were very wrong.

He was laying on his back and his entire torso was almost numb from the cold. His face ached with a dull throb, centering around his nose. The skin on his stomach and inside both of his forearms itched more as awareness slowly returned to him. He could feel grass under his back, and that made him realize that he was missing his shirt. His body felt drained and weak, like he’d spent way too long in the mines and his muscles had overworked themselves. And he still had a headache, which came roaring back wtih a vengeance now that he was awake to feel it.

The sensations became too much, pushing him to full consciousness. He opened his eyes to darkness.

At first he thought there was something wrong with his vision, but as he laid there and blinked, he realized that it was just dark out. Like, really dark.

With a groan, he tried to push himself up, only for his arms to completely fail to even begin to take his weight. He hadn’t even gotten half an inch off the ground before he was forced back down, and just that minimal effort sent racking tremors through both arms.

He laid there, panting, and watched his breath puff out into the air. His eyes slipped closed as a violent shiver ran through his body.

An enderman’s soft warble sounded suddenly, directly above him. It would have startled Steve, but given his condition, his brain was too slow to even realize what had made that sound until he called out, after a few tries, “B-Bud-d-dy?”

Another soft cry, and Steve forced his eyes open to confirm that yes, Buddy was leaning above him and staring down at him blankly, head titled. Steve felt immensely grateful that Buddy always appeared when he needed it most.

“H-Hey B-B-Bud-dy,” he stuttered, shivering so bad he could barely speak. “C-Ca-Can y-you he-help m-me u-up-p?”

Buddy looked at him for a bit longer, those glowing purple eyes the only visible thing about it in the darkness. Then the enderman moved and Steve barely felt through the numbness of his skin as Buddy slipped its arm under his shoulders and lifted him to a sitting position.

The transition made his headache pulse angrily, and he squeezed his eyes shut as nausea swept through him. He swallowed the urge to vomit, grimacing. He thought maybe he was shaking from something other than the cold, but it was impossible to tell.

Buddy made another sound and Steve hummed, opening his eyes. Buddy’s arm was still around his shoulders, keeping him upright, and now the enderman was leaning into his personal space, making small, soft noises.

“B-Bud-d-dy,” Steve managed, trying and failing to lift his arms. “I n-n-ne-eed—h-home.”

He stared at the enderman in a daze, hoping that Buddy would understand what he was saying. He just felt so cold and weak, like there was a snowstorm raging in his mind.

Buddy moved away and the instant panic Steve felt snapped him into a higher level of awareness. He reached out blindly and found Buddy’s hand, staring up at the blurry glow of Buddy’s eyes.

“W-W-Wait!”

Another soft sound and Buddy stepped closer to him, its arm winding around his shoulders again. Despite its closeness, it offered no warmth and Steve shivered again.

He tightened his grip on its hand just as they teleported. All Steve registered was the massive spike of pain in his head before he passed out again.

Sunshine beaming right into his eyes woke him this time.

Groaning, he scrunched his face up in discomfort and moved to shift out of the sun’s rays, but even that smallest movement made sharp pain spread across his stomach, like a thousand needles stabbing at his skin. Hissing, he settled back down until it dulled to something bearable.

He opened his eyes, squinting because of the sun, and as he laid there, he realized several things at once. He was in his bed. The sheets in front of his face were stained with smudges of red. He didn’t have a shirt on. And though his headache was gone and he felt better than what little he remembered of last night, he still felt weak. And that was a whole other matter—what the fuck had happened? He remembered walking out into that plains with Blake, then things got fuzzy. He mostly just remembered the invasive cold that had seemed to sink into his skin all the way to his bones.

The longer he laid there, the greater his confusion became and the harder it was to ignore. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his arms under him and pushed himself up, sucking in air through his teeth as his stomach and arms protested with that sharp pain again.

Once he was sitting up, he looked down at himself.

What the fuck?

There were...by the Gods, there were symbols etched into his stomach and the inside of his forearms. His skin was heavily smudged with dried blood, and now that he was aware of the cuts, they stung and itched.

Somewhat in shock, Steve looked around. His bed was indeed covered in dried blood, but he could see how that had come to be. What didn’t make much sense was the complete disarray of his house. The chests were all opened and what looked like half their contents laid out on the floor.

“Wha...” he mumbled, coughing at the dryness of his throat. Grimacing, he stood on shaky legs and made his way to the bathroom. He paused outside the door, almost scared to see his reflection, but took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to enter.

He looked...a mess was putting it lightly. There were dark bags under his eyes and his nose was an angry red, dried blood smeared across the bottom half of his face. His skin looked waxen—at least, the parts of it visible through the dried blood did. He couldn’t make out the cuts because of all the blood, so he grabbed a towel, wet it, and gently cleaned the blood until it was mostly gone. Good enough for him to see through.

Were they...? Steve was pretty sure he’d seen symbols like them before, in enchanted books. He didn’t know the language, but the symbols carved into his skin looked to be of the same origin. As disturbing as it was, at least the cuts weren’t deep. They would fade over time.

Steve splashed some water on his face, sighing. He hung his head over the sink and let the water slowly drip off, watching the slightly red tinged droplets splash as he thought to himself.

What the fuck had Blake done last night? Dragging him out into the middle of some random plains biome, knocking him out, carving into his skin, and for what? Why do any of this and why leave him there when he was done?

There were too many inconsistencies, but there was at least one thing he knew for certain—if Blake showed his face again, Steve was going to seriously consider killing him. There would definitely at the very least be a punch involved.

He had a few glasses of water, then walked back to the main room and stared again in confusion at his poor house. He happened to glance outside and noticed that Buddy was there, standing next to the portal.

The inactive portal.

Steve opened the door, more confused than ever, and called out to the enderman. “Buddy?” Immediately, Buddy whipped around, its eyes wide. It teleported directly in front of him and was making a lot of quick, distressed noises as it gesticulated wildly, pointing at the portal, at him, at his house, and in the direction Steve knew the plains biome was.

“Relax, everything’s okay,” Steve said, trying to soothe the enderman into some semblance of calm. It worked a little, as Buddy stopped gesturing and instead really looked at him. Then it pointed at his stomach. Steve looked down, then offered Buddy a tired smile. “Yeah, just my luck, huh?” He forced himself to chuckle, feeling that if he really stopped to think about it he was going to freak out. Better to just focus on what to do next.

Buddy shook its head and pointed at his stomach again, then pointed at the inactive portal. Steve furrowed his brows and looked at the portal. Nothing about it seemed abnormal.

Buddy made a sound that Steve took as frustrated, the way the enderman huffed, and Steve smiled again, a little more genuinely. He patted the enderman’s arm. “It’s okay, you don’t have to try to explain. Thank you for helping me last night.” Buddy perked up and nodded, saying something that Steve just continued smiling at. Gods he really wished they could communicate better.

“Do you happen to know what happened last night? You can just nod or shake your head.”

Buddy stared at him, then tilted its head like it always did when staring at him. Then it shook its head. Steve sighed.

“Well it was worth a shot.”

After showering and dressing in clean clothes, he felt a million times better. He had lunch, and then got to work cleaning up his house. And by that, he really just shoved items into random chests until the floor was cleared. He noticed that, for some of the items, he didn’t remember getting them, like the fishing rod or the fermented spider eye(which he nearly gagged at and promptly tossed in the trash). After that, he took his bedsheets and decided they were a lost cause, so he threw them out and replaced them.

Everything was back to a semblance of normal but the events of the last twenty four hours haunted the back of his mind. Every so often he would periodically catch himself staring at the etchings on the insides of his arms, their purpose—and the reason behind Blake’s actions—continuing to evade him.

But dwelling on it made anxiety sit heavy in the pit of his stomach. He would force his eyes away from the marks and find something to do.

After the house was back to normal, he started making a sword. It wasn’t difficult or time consuming normally, but he made sure to really take his time and pay attention to his work, if only to avoid thinking about anything else. It took three times as long, but it helped relax him in a way, so he didn’t mind.

He treated the armor pieces the same way, and was done with the helmet and halfway through the chestplate when there was a knock on his door. He glanced over and perked up when he saw Alex waving at him through the window.

“Hey!” He greeted when he opened the door. “It’s been a while.” He stepped aside and allowed her in.

“I know, sorry about that,” she said as she walked past him, shrugging her pack off and swinging it onto the table. It made a decent thud. “I haven’t been able to get away from the village with everything that’s been going on.”

Steve thought back to what Blake had said a couple days ago, about endermen apparently stealing from them. “What’s happened?”

Alex sighed heavily, offering him a tired smile. “We’ve been having enderman appear in the village, even during the day, and steal random items that appear worthless. I know that endermen have a habit of doing just that, but to purposefully come to a village during daylight hours?” She shook her head. “It’s unheard of. I mean, it’s hard enough finding an enderman during the day, and you wouldn’t believe how many we’ve seen during the last week alone.” She frowned down at her pack, her tone becoming serious. “It’s getting the villagers a little worked up.”

Steve was starting to think that those random items he didn’t remember acquiring might be gifts from Buddy, and made a mental note to talk to Buddy and make absolutely sure that the tall bastard understood when he said no more stealing.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said carefully. He didn’t want her to know he was friends with the enderman ‘tormenting’ her village. As much as he disliked them, he didn’t want Alex to have to work more because of him—even if it wasn’t technically his fault. He still felt bad.

He tried to lighten the mood. “You can just blame me like everyone else does, I won’t mind.”

But she looked up sharply at him. “How do you know they blame you?”

Oh shit. Steve winced, rubbing the back of his head nervously. “I-I mean, who else would they blame?”

Alex crossed her arms and raised a brow, unimpressed, but then her eyes flicked to his arm and she gasped.

“What happened?” She asked urgently, reaching for him. He flinched and stepped back, and she stopped, eyes wide.

“S—Sorry,” he said shakily. His heart was pounding and that anxiety from before was trying to crawl up his throat. “It—It’s nothing.” He forced himself to hold out his arm so she could see.

“Steve, this is not nothing,” she said softly, gently taking his arm into her hands and turning it this way and that to inspect the carving. “Do you know what this is?”

Steve shrugged, looking away and trying not to think too hard on it. “It looks like the enchanting language.”

“How did it happen?”

He hesitated, long enough for her to drop his arm and try to catch his eye. “Steve?”

He swallowed heavily, forcing the hysteria back down. Why did he feel like something terrible was about to happen? He felt like when he had begun mining for the first real times alone and the threat of an early death via creeper was very real.

Finally he forced the words out. “There’s...this guy, that the village apparently hired to—to kill me. His name’s—“

“Blake,” Alex finished, practically snarling the name. The intensity of her anger startled him and he managed to look at her. She looked pissed. “I know who that son of a bitch is.”

“R-Right. He came here a few days ago and told me what he had been hired to do, but that he wasn’t going to do it. Then yesterday he came by again and dragged me out to the plains, the one behind my house. He knocked me out and when I woke up, I had these.” He held out both arms. He knew he was downplaying what happened a bit, but he didn’t want her to know the extent of what happened if she didn’t ask.

Her anger melted away as she gazed at the lines on his skin, but as she looked between the two carvings, her brows furrowed. “Did—Are there more?”

He winced. Well shit, that was fast. He lifted his shirt enough to reveal the mark on his stomach. She stared at it, anger slowly bleeding back into her expression.

“That bastard,” she eventually said, turning to her pack. She dug through it aggressively and pulled out a book and a pencil, sketching something quickly into a page. “I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing, but he better wish he doesn’t cross paths with me.”

Steve let his shirt drop back down. “What?”

She glanced at him. “The markings are strange. It’s definitely the enchanting language, but not as it’s suppose to be. The symbols have been modified and combined in ways that make it impossible to decipher unless you speak the language fluently. I only know a little of it, but I recognize the symbols for ‘power’ and ‘binding,’ and I think ‘loyalty,’ but like I said, the symbols are all twisted up in ways they shouldn’t be.” She snapped the book shut and turned back to him, her expression softening.

“I’m sorry he did that. When I found what they had hired him for, I tried to talk them out of it but—“

“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve interrupted. He almost wanted to admit that, while it wasn’t technically his fault because he never asked Buddy to steal for him, the enderman was still doing it because of him. “Besides, he already said he wasn’t going to kill me.” He left out the ‘yet.’ Alex seemed mad enough as is.

“We’ll see. I already didn’t like him but after this...” She shook her head, scoffing to herself as she turned back to her pack. “Anyway, the reason for my visit is to give you these.” She lifted a stack of small books out of her pack and held them out. He took them and inspected the one on top, however there was no title or identifier of any kind.

“I found these at the next village over,” she explained. “I figured you would be interested in them.”

Considering he didn’t know the contents, he smiled anyway. Whatever the books were about, he was sure he would enjoy them. He liked reading and learning about history in particular, and he and Alex had similar tastes in that regard, so he was confident that the books would be well worth the read.

“Thanks. What are they?”

She flipped her pack shut and hefted it onto her shoulder. “One of them has a small excerpt about those pig-men you mentioned. The others all mention or feature Herobrine, like you asked about. Sorry it took so long to get back to you.”

Steve was suddenly a lot more interested in the books now. “It’s okay. It sounds like you have your hands full.”

“No kidding. Hey.” She stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. “Look after yourself, okay? I’ll try to help as much as I can.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he practically choked out, heart in his throat. Maybe he was wrong about how genuine Alex’s friendship was.

“But I’m going to anyway.” She shot him a winning smile and headed for the door. “Enjoy the books!”

He looked down at them, dumb smile plastered to his face. His day had just gotten a whole lot better. He’d have to try to think of some way to thank Alex.

He set the books aside for later. He was curious about them, but he wanted to get his armor done with. No matter what those books contained, it wouldn’t be the real thing.

The quicker he finished, the quicker he could get back to the Nether.

He glanced at the portal and then groaned when he remembered that it was deactivated. And he hadn’t gathered any extra iron, only the exact amount he’d needed for his sword and armor.

He sighed. The universe was laughing at him.

Back to the mine it was.

Chapter Text

Herobrine had not been having a good time these last few days.

For how long had he been accepting of his fate, content to stay alone forever in this fortress? And now, after a few—frankly unremarkable—meetings, he couldn’t stop thinking about a human.

It was infuriating.

He was more a ghost now than ever, wandering the halls and upper walkways of his fortress in a daze, usually finding himself staring at Steve’s portal, hoping the human would come through. Hadn’t it been long enough for Steve to recover and return? He’d said he would.

Then he would become angered at himself, at this weakness, and storm off to wander other parts of the fortress, only to eventually find himself back up top, staring at the portal again.

He thought often of how Steve had grabbed his hand in a panic to stop him from leaving. The way his face had flushed red in embarrassment when he realized what he’d done. It was a novel idea, that someone would want him around. He tried to convince himself that Steve must have been delirious from his injury and hadn’t known what he was doing, but it was a weak excuse that Herobrine knew was completely off the mark. Steve just didn’t care about who he was, only that he had saved his life.

These thoughts troubled him, and when he found himself indecisive or anxious, his wandering would inadvertently lead him to the Wither.

Most times it never spoke to him, when he got like this. He would sit or lay in the room, staring at the wall for hours, maybe days, and just bask in its presence. The power that the Wither granted him all those years ago constantly pulled him towards it, like it wanted to escape him and return to its original master. It was that part of him that felt loyalty and submission to the Wither, though over time he had learned to overcome those feelings. The Wither had given its power to him of its own free will—it was his now. But he still recognized his superior, no matter how much it pissed him off.

He couldn’t argue that he felt the most at peace when the Wither was near. That’s why he was glad it rarely spoke to him.

After some amount of time passed, he started feeling a tickle at the edge of his awareness. There was something happening, a power building nearby that felt like when a haunting of endermen passed near. But it didn’t quite feel like endermen.

All at once, the power built to an intensity strong enough that he sat up, frowning at the wall in the direction of the anomaly. In his peripheral, he saw the Wither do the same.

It peaked. It was a darkness he recognized—he felt it within himself and in the creature floating next to him.

Void.

Frowning, he spared a glance at the Wither. One of its heads was looking at him, and nodded when their eyes met.

He teleported to the top, scanning the surrounding area for signs of trouble. Like he initially thought, there were no endermen around. His eyes trailed across the netherrack terrain until he caught sight of Steve’s portal.

Steve’s smoking portal.

His heart leapt to his throat. Had Steve come through? Had a ghast been nearby and shot at him? Was Steve okay?

He ran toward the destruction, searching for any sign of Steve. The smoke was clearing as he approached, revealing a curious scene.

The ground around the portal frame was slightly cratered, and there was some kind of mob sprawled in the middle of the destruction, wisps of smoke trailing off its mutilated form. Herobrine didn’t quite know what he was looking at—the creature was such a mess as to make identifying it impossible.

It was making strained, stuttering wheezes as it shifted. Once or twice it tried lifting itself up, only for its arms to give out.

Herobrine walked up to it and frowned. He crouched and poked at its head, surprised to notice it had short black hair. He hadn’t realized before because most of the creature was black like an enderman, just with all the wrong proportions.

Its breathing was labored. The longer Herobrine looked at it, the more horrible it became. From what he could see of it—it was laying face down—the only thing he could even think to compare it to was an ender-fied zombie, but he didn’t know how such an abominable creature could come to be.

Not willingly, surely. It was a pitiful sight.

It was shirtless, the skin of its back shredded and ragged, revealing pure black muscle and glimpses of black bone underneath, much like a zombie. Instead of blood it appeared to ooze a thick black goo, which felt—when Herobrine touched it out of morbid curiosity—sticking like tar.

He touched its shoulder and when it didn’t move, pushed it onto its back to get a better look at its front. The chest and stomach were in just as bad a shape, damaged skin revealing the quivering muscle below. He could see its lungs working overtime as it continued to take wheezing breaths. His eyes trailed up to its face, which was surprisingly well intact, only a single gash along one cheek that revealed part of its cheekbone and jaw. Its eyes were closed so Herobrine lifted the left eyelid, surprised to find it looked unlike a zombie or an enderman—it was a normal, green human eye. Curious, he lifted the right eyelid—purple on purple, just like an enderman.

He sat back on his haunches, stumped. Just what the hell was this creature? As insane as it sounded, it appeared to be an enderman/zombie hybrid. Though, now that he was looking at its front, something didn’t add up. If it was a zombie, it must be a new one. The skin was ragged and torn, but the parts that were intact appeared strong and young, and its body was fit, not sagging like a zombie’s usually became. 

He looked over at the portal, which was now inactive. The earlier panic was settling into dread. This mob had come from Steve’s portal.

The cold thought that Steve might actually have gotten himself into trouble while recuperating in the Overworld warred with the red-hot anger that threatened to choke him if this mob was the cause of it. As it was, Herobrine had no clue which was the case—if Steve was hurt or not—but he did have this weird new mob to question. If it could even talk.

“Hey,” he said, slapping the mob’s cheek lightly. “Can you speak? Or understand me?”

The mob did not react. Its eyes remained shut and its body non-responsive. Herorbine huffed.

He tried slapping it harder, but its head just lulled to the side. More black goo leaked from its mouth.

Having failed communication, he grabbed the mob’s arm and teleported them directly into the fortress dungeons. They were dusty with disuse, as he hadn’t had need of or even visited them in several decades. Tormenting and torturing humans and mobs alike had lost its appeal after a century.

He dragged the mob over to a wall and secured a chain around its ankle. When it was more aware, he would return to question it. For now he was content knowing it was secure.

He teleported into the fortress proper and made his way to the Wither’s chamber. He was anxious—he wanted to do something—but even if the portal had stayed active, he couldn’t have gone through. Entering the Overworld would be a death sentence. The Wither had reminded him time and time again that the Aether had eyes everywhere in the Overworld. If he were to be seen, they would hunt him down and kill him, no questions asked. It was so ingrained in his mind that sometimes just the sight of a portal unnerved him.

Once he entered the chamber, he knelt. All three heads were watching him.

What did you discover?

“I’m not sure. My best guess would be an enderman-zombie hybrid, but there are some anomalies about it that make me question that.”

The Wither hummed.

Its origin?

Herobrine hesitated. “It...I found it laying in front of the nearby portal. There appeared to have been an explosion.”

Not for the first time, Herobrine wished the Wither had any capability of facial motion to give away its thoughts or feelings. Instead, he had to remain kneeling while it thought to itself in silence.

Where is it now?

“The dungeon. I was going to try questioning it later, if it can even speak.”

The middle head nodded.

Keep me informed of anything you learn.

“Of course.”

He left the chambers and returned to the dungeon to check up on his new guest, but the mob was just as out of it as before, leaving Herobrine, once again, with nothing to do.

He walked without direction and quickly found himself back up top, staring at Steve’s now deactivated portal.

He sighed.

After Alex had left and Steve had returned from the mines with another iron in hand, he’d completed the rest of the armor and made the flint and steel. He was ready to return to the Nether, but decided to get a good night’s sleep first. His stomach and arms no longer hurt, though his shirt irritated the marks on his stomach as it rubbed against them occasionally. Not enough for him to do anything about it, but still.

Once the sun had set, Steve settled into bed with only slight trepidation. Despite the relatively calm day, he had just been attacked and left for dead a little over a day ago. Excuse him if he was a little on edge.

He closed his eyes and got comfortable, listening to the natural sounds of nightime. It usually instilled a sense of peace and familiarity in him, but he found that, though he continued to lay there, sleep would not come. He tossed and turned and stubbornly kept his eyes shut, but nothing happened. He remained frustratingly awake, even though, when he looked at the clock nailed to the wall across from the bed, it showed that a little over an hour had passed. It was past midnight at this point, he should definitely have fallen asleep by now.

After another hour of laying there awake, he finally accepted that sleep wasn’t going to take him, and he might as well do something in the meantime. He sat up and his eyes landed on the stack of books he’d left on the table. Maybe now would be a great time to read them—not only did he want to actually read them, but reading might make him tired enough to fall asleep. A win-win.

He got up and lit a torch on the wall next to his bed, then went to the table. He hadn’t gone through the books to see which one was about what, so he grabbed the one on top and padded back over to his bed. He got comfortable in a sitting position this time and inspected the book’s face. No title, and when he opened it, no inscription, but there was a short foreword that read:

       This collection of journal entries has been carefully recovered and restored to provide history about the Nether and all who are brave enough to travel there. These entries have been rewritten or translated as well as possible to make them legible for a wider audience.

       Everything you are about to read is written truth from the perspective of an actual person.

Intrigued, Steve turned the page to the first entry, which was not labeled in any way. He found that odd, but started reading.

Unfortunately for him, the book was captivating enough that he only started feeling tired a couple of hours before sunrise. By that time, he had finished the first book and contemplated starting the second, but his eyes were burning and he was tired.

He decided that some sleep would be better than no sleep, so he put out the torch and laid down, asleep within minutes.

Not for long, however, as the sun streaking through his window and into his face—as good as it felt—was too annoying to sleep through and woke him up. He was groggy and sat up with a wince, checking the time with dismay. Only two and a half hours had passed. With a sigh, he gazed longingly at his bed but got up anyway. He had already put off returning to the Nether, and he didn’t want to stay too long in the Overworld in case Blake came back, or something equally batshit crazy happened. He shivered just thinking about that day. It haunted him that he didn’t know what happened.

A quick shower woke him up a little, and he ate a breakfast of eggs and toast in between packing a new bundle. This time, he added some bottles of water. Just in case.

After breakfast he donned his arm and strapped the sword and bundle to his hip. As he was opening the door, his eyes caught on the mark marring the inside of his arm. The armor didn’t cover there and left it exposed. Anxiety curled heavily around his stomach as he looked at it. The thin lines were scabbed over, not necessarily noticeable but with his luck, Herobrine would notice them right away. He paused and briefly debated whether or not he should cover his arms, but the thought of wearing extra clothing in the Nether was disgusting. Instead, because it was practical, he just covered the marks in a single layer of bandage. Easy enough to explain, he wouldn’t have to look at them, and the cuts weren’t exposed to the elements.

With that settled, he made his way to the portal. With the new flint and steel he’d made yesterday in hand, he sparked the portal back to life, stowed the flint and steel in his bundle, took a deep breath, and jumped through.

...And immediately stopped at the sight of Herobrine standing only a few feet in front of him.

The two stared at each other, one in shock at being caught and one in surprise.

“You’re...back,” Herobrine said lamely. He cleared his throat. “It’s about time.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth quirked up but he remained otherwise still, mere inches from the portal. “And you’re here,” Steve said, casting a weary eye around, but there was nothing of interest in their immediate surroundings, and he didn’t remember anything happening to the portal before he left last time. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Herobrine replied quickly. A little too quickly, Steve thought, and Herobrine must have realized it too by the way his face reddened a bit.

“Right,” Steve said, drawing the word out and finally stepping away from the portal, giving Herobrine an odd look. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what are you doing?”

“There was an explosion. Here.” He gestured to the ground, and Steve realized that there was soul soil under his feet instead of netherrack. “I was fixing it.”

Steve furrowed his brows. “An explosion? What happened?”

Herobrine shrugged. “When I came to check it out, there was...” Herobrine paused and appeared to be deliberating his next words. “It was like nothing I’ve seen before,” he finally said. “A hybrid between a zombie and an enderman is my best guess.”

That...sounded horrible. Steve shivered just thinking about such a creature. “When did this happen?”

“Yesterday for you, I think. Maybe a day and a half ago.”

A wave of dread crashed over him, sitting sour in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed heavily and glanced at the portal behind him. Could that have anything to do with why the portal had been deactivated in the Overworld? Steve was still unsure what had happened that night with Blake and there were a bunch of questions he had that would probably remain answerless unless Blake showed his face again. But the thought of seeing Blake caused anxiety to grip his heart tight.

A touch on his shoulder made him jump and whip around. Whatever Herobrine saw in his expression, it made him back up, hands raised to show he didn’t mean to be threatening.

Steve realized he was breathing fast and shaking. He brought a hand up and scrubbed at his face, sucking in air and exhaling shakily.

“Sorry. I’m just...a little on edge.” He tried to smile but he was sure it came out more pained than anything. “Anyway, how have you been? Anything else exciting happen while I’ve been gone?”

Herobrine stared at him for a bit before lowering his hands and shaking his head. “Nope. Just as monotonous as ever. I’m actually glad to see you, at least you’re entertaining.”

“What, with my near death experiences?”

“Well, I do get to play the hero,” Herobrine said with absolute seriousness and Steve smiled more genuinely, rolling his eyes.

“Lucky me.”

“I’m actually glad you brought that up,” Herobrine said. He crossed his arms but instead of looking angry or irritated, he hunched into himself a little. “I’ve been thinking, you know, it might not be such a bad idea to accompany you. You seem ill prepared for most of the Nether and I’m just here not doing anything so...” Steve was surprised that Herobrine would bring this up—would even want to join him—but he was delighted all the same. However Herobrine must have misread his surprise and silence when he quickly backtracked.

“Only if you want, of course. I don’t want to imply that you can’t handle yourself, you’ve only been here for a little bit now and I’ve been here for much longer so, of course this would be trivial for me—“

“Herobrine—“

“—and every time you’re here you’ve gotten injured in some way so I’ve been thinking, you know, I wouldn’t mind helping you if you needed it but then again, I didn’t know if you would want to, so I thought—“

“Herobrine,” Steve said a little louder and firmer. Herobrine’s mouth snapped shut with an audible clack and Steve did his best to hide his smile, amused at Herobrine’s sudden nervousness. It was nice seeing a normal side to him. “I was going to ask the same thing. I think it’s a great idea. Honestly I thought you wouldn’t want to because you’ve probably already seen everything around here, huh?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, but that’s okay. Seeing your reactions will be worth it. Have you been to the warped forest yet?”

Steve shook his head.

“You’ll love it. It’s my favorite biome in the Nether.”

“I can’t wait to,” he said honestly. The thought of exploring a new biome was just what he needed right now—something to distract him from his Overworld problems.

“Cool cool,” Herobrine said, nodding, and Steve was hit by a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with his surroundings. That he was able to have this opportunity at all made him feel special in a way that wasn’t bad. Because all his life he’d been ‘special’—a freak, a monster, a curse. But with Herobrine, he felt welcomed, even cared for in a way. Herobrine had saved his life multiple times, and just now had claimed to want to accompany Steve to continue to keep him safe. He couldn’t help but be grateful. This was exactly what he needed after the last couple of rough days he’d had. 

“Are you ready to go now?” Steve asked. “I can wait if you need to grab anything.”

Herobrine shook his head. “No I’m good. Where do you want to go first?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? With Herobrine as his company, he could go anywhere he wanted. Herobrine had been here long enough, he had to know where all the nearest biomes were. But Steve didn’t want to lose out on the journey there. And he didn’t have to worry so much anymore, if Herobrine was with him.

“I guess we can head to that warped forest first. You’ve gotten me interested in seeing it.”

“Good choice, I need something from there anyway. Do you want to walk there?”

Steve smiled. He secretly wondered if Herobrine could read his mind. “I was just thinking that. Yeah, if you don’t mind? Unless it’s really far...”

“Nah, it’s not too far. Maybe an hour and a half? I think?” Herobrine looked around, scratching at his head. “Actually, I’m not sure how long it will take. I usually just teleport around until I’m there, but I haven’t gone in a long time.”

“Well, we can see. Maybe we can skip through any nether wastes we come across. Those all seem pretty much the same.”

“That sounds fine. In that case, it’s this way,” Herobrine said, starting to walk towards the fortress. Steve started following behind, but then increased his pace a bit to be side-by-side with Herobrine.

“Why haven’t you been there recently?” He asked, and Herobrine frowned, then his expression lightened and he shrugged.

“Laziness I guess. I haven’t felt the need or desire to leave the fortress for several decades until you came around. But I used to go there all the time. Not sure why, but I feel...It’s hard to explain, but I feel the most comfortable there, outside of the fortress. You probably won’t understand why once you see it, but there’s just something about a warped forest that’s peaceful.”

Steve raised a brow, though inwardly he was thrilled to hear about such a strange biome in the Nether. “‘Peaceful?’ In the Nether?”

Herobrine shot him a smile. “I know, but you’ll see.” And then he winked and Steve’s heart did a flip. He looked away, face hot, letting a comfortable silence settle around them.

He was just...unused to company, that was all. He didn’t think he could ever say he had a ‘friend’ before Alex and Herobrine. Having positive interactions with another being was just having an unusual reaction in him because he wasn’t used to it. Yeah, that was totally it. It had nothing to do with how Herobrine had saved his life and wanted to protect him from further harm. How Herobrine could look at him and smile. Herobrine was just being nice.

As they walked, Steve suddenly tensed. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. He felt like someone was watching him. They were walking away from the main fortress now, and when Steve looked over the edge of the railing, his eyes happened to land on a small window down by the lava. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a pair of eyes watching him.

“We just need to get to the other side, then it’s a pretty straight shot,” Herobrine said suddenly. Steve jumped slightly and blinked, checking back into himself. They were standing on the other side of the fortress's upper walkways, at a dead end. The path crumbled into nothing before them—the next step would be to a fiery demise below. Across the lava lake was a sizable outcrop of netherrack, a wide path leading into the distance. He looked over, still feeling dread crawl over his skin, but that vanished when Herobrine held out his hand.

Steve stubbornly ignored the way his heart rate increased, blaming the prospect of an impending teleport as the culprit. Nevermind that Herobrine could have just grabbed his arm and teleported them, no, he had to hold out his hand, making Steve close the distance.

He did so with only slight hesitation, tensing in anticipation of what was going to happen next. He'd only teleported twice but he didn't remember it fondly.

Between moments, they were suddenly on the other side of the lava. Steve blinked the vertigo away and swallowed down the nausea, recovering quicker than he expected. It hadn't been that bad.

"You good?" Herobrine asked, eyeing him, and Steve gave a thumbs up.

They continued walking, Herobrine slightly in the lead because one, he knew where they were going, and two, Steve slowed his steps a bit to take in the sight. As normal as the Nether was starting to become for him, it's impossible geometry would probably never cease to amaze him.

“...”

He turned around quickly, blood like ice in his veins as his heart beat loud in his ears. That had definitely been a whisper of something, just like the other times, coming from behind them. Whatever it was, it came from the fortress.

“Steve?”

He looked at Herobrine, who was staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he said automatically, forcing himself to turn his back on the fortress and catch up to Herobrine. “Just...thought I heard something.”

They continued walking but Steve could tell that Herobrine wanted to say something; he was probably thinking of a way to do it.

“What did you hear?” Herobrine finally asked.

“I’m sure it was nothing,” Steve deflected. “Just my mind playing tricks on me.”

“But what do you think you heard?”

Steve swallowed down the fear, pointedly not looking at his companion. “I don’t know. It’s indistinguishable. Like a far away voice. But it never fails to get my attention.”

Though Steve wasn’t looking at him, he could tell that Herobrine was burning a hole in his head with his gaze. Steve continued to ignore it, keeping his eyes to the side.

“Did you hear it when you left your room and encountered that wither skeleton in the hallway?”

That was oddly specific and right on the money. Steve finally looked over, surprised, at Herobrine’s calculating expression.

“Not...initially,” Steve admitted, still feeling a little embarrassed about that. “I only heard the whispers after a bit of walking but they weren’t why I left the room.”

Herobrine made a thoughtful sound.

“Do you...know what it is?” Steve asked.

“It’s the Wither,” Herobrine said immediately, but that didn’t make sense to Steve.

“How could that be? Isn’t wither a weakening effect?”

“No, not wither, the Wither. The ultimate force of death and destruction. It’s an ancient being of unimaginable power that can be summoned from the Void.”

“Why...” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He was just lamenting about being ‘special’ and how he didn’t need to worry about that in the Nether, and now Herobrine was telling him that some unholy entity from the Void wanted, what, a meet and greet?

“Why is it whispering to you?” Herobrine answered, and Steve nodded, vaguely sick. Strangely enough, Herobrine looked unhappy as he answered, “Because it wants to meet you.”

Exactly what he didn’t want to hear. 

“Is that...” It sounded bad. The whispers so far had done nothing but unsettle him. Surely, if this Wither wanted to meet him, and if it was so powerful, it could think of a better way to get his attention. “Is that bad?”

Herobrine frowned. “I don’t know,” he admitted. He stopped walking to turn to Steve. “When I found you in the hallway, you were very close to its chamber. When I questioned it, it just said it was curious about you. But it had agreed to stop for now.”

“So that was...?” Steve glanced over his shoulder, still feeling tense like something was going to jump out at him any moment.

“Probably it just amusing itself at our expense.”

Steve shuddered. He didn’t think he wanted to meet this Wither.

Silence settled between them again. They walked for a while, teleporting over long stretches or gaps in the path. With each small teleport, Steve was getting more and more used to the feeling and what to expect. It really wasn’t that bad after a few times.

Another thing he noticed was that all mobs kept their distance. Even ghasts turned around and practically fled from their general direction. He wondered if that was just Herobrine’s presence or if he was actively broadcasting, so to speak, a ‘don’t come near’ signal. Either way, it was incredibly handy. Steve got the most enjoyment watching the ghasts flee, their cries fading into the distance.

They had just exited a soul sand valley when Herobrine spoke up again.

“What happened to your arms?”

Steve, who had been looking at a giant skeleton half buried in the sand, gave a noncommittal hum. “Hm?”

“Your arms?” Herobrine repeated, and even pointed when Steve looked over at him.

“Huh—oh. That. Um.” Steve, for some reason, was hesitant to reveal what happened. He hadn’t been planning on telling Alex, but he also hadn’t hidden the marks from her. Truthfully, he hadn’t even thought about them until she’d pointed them out. But he had decided to hide them before coming here. Preventing Herobrine from seeing them hadn’t been his main reason for doing it, but he had thought about it, in the back of his mind. He didn’t know why, though. There was no reason Herobrine shouldn’t know about it, hell, he might even know what they meant.

“I was...Well, when I...er...” He trailed off and then sighed, grimacing. There really was no easy way to say it. “I’ll just show you.”

He unwrapped his left arm and, hesitant without knowing why, lowered it for Herobrine to see.

At first, Herobrine didn’t say anything or even move, just stared down at the strange collection of symbols carved into the inside of Steve’s arm. Then he took a deep, controlled breath.

“Tell me what happened,” he said firmly, leaving no room for objection. Steve didn’t know what he expected, but this wasn’t it. He realized that, now that he’d shown Herobrine, his decision to cover the wounds in the first place stemmed from an unconscious fear that Herobrine would see them and not care. That clearly wasn’t the case if the way Herobrine’s face was starting to look was any indication, his hands balled into tight fists at his side.

“When I got back to the Overworld a few days ago, there was a man waiting at my house.” Steve still had his arm out and Herobrine was still looking down at it. “He had been hired by a village to kill me. He didn’t go through with it, but a couple days later he showed up again and forced me to walk to a plains. He knocked me out and left me there. When I woke up, I had these on my arms and...one on my stomach as well.” He almost hadn’t admitted that, as Herobrine was already struggling with the reveal of just his arm being injured, but he thought it would be better not to hide anything.

Steve’s heart was beating loud in his ears as he waited for Herobrine to do something. He was starting to get nervous as they stood there in silence.

“It’s...It’s really nothing,” Steve said, finally moving his arm. He rewrapped it and let it hang loosely at his side. “It doesn’t hurt or anything, and nothing else has happened, so I just try to ignore it and move on, you know?” Steve laughed weakly but there was no mirth behind it. Herobrine was staring at him now and the intensity of his gaze was too much. Steve looked down at their feet, feeling awkwardly like a scolded child trying to explain themself to a disappointed parent. “I’m sure when Blake comes back he’ll rub it in my face and tell me what exactly it was for—“

“Is that his name?” Herobrine interrupted, and Steve looked up.

“What?”

“Blake. Is that the name of the man who did this?”

“Y-Yeah.” Steve frowned, brows pinched, as Herobrine nodded.

“Come on, we’re not far from the warped forest,” Herobrine said, turning and continuing to walk. Steve gaped at him, then hurried to catch up.

Unlike before, the silence was heavy and oppressive, but he had no one to blame but himself. Steve opened his mouth several times but couldn’t get any words out. He was stumped by the abrupt change of subject. Finally he managed to stutter out, “A-Are you...okay?”

No, Herobrine was not okay.

He was filled with so much rage that he had circled back to calm.

Steve had been hurt while in the Overworld, carved into like some animal and left unprotected. Herobrine had known, when that creature had appeared, that something had happened but—

He clenched his fists tighter.

All he had had to do was cross through the portal. He could have helped. But the thought was more terrifying than he would ever admit to anyone. The Overworld was dangerous for him but—and this was something that he turned over and over in his mind—it was dangerous for Steve too and he still went back. Before, Steve had said that people didn’t like him. Now, someone was literally out to kill him and Steve was laughing it off like it was no big deal? Like it didn’t matter?

Like he didn’t matter?

Herobrine honestly didn’t know what was more enraging, the fact that someone would dare hurt Steve, how little Steve apparently valued his life, or how strong his own reaction was.

And now Steve was asking if he was okay?

He stopped again and turned to Steve, reaching out to grab Steve’s shoulders and shaking him a little to get his full attention. He noticed that Steve always looked away when the subject got too heavy and he needed Steve to understand what he was about to say.

“No, I’m not okay,” he said, staring into wide violet eyes. “And you shouldn’t be either. What happened to you isn’t nothing, do you understand? Someone hurt you and I—“ Can’t stand that thought, is what he wanted to say, but his throat closed around the words. Instead he said, after some floundering, “If I had been there, I would not have hesitated to kill him. If he ever comes back, I want you to come straight here. With any luck he’ll follow you, and I can end his sorry excuse for a life.”

He felt a little guilty at how petrified Steve looked, but when he collected himself, the look on Steve’s face was somewhere between weary and awed. “You would do that?”

Herobrine nodded and tightened his grip on Steve’s shoulder’s slightly. “I would do that and a lot more, if you asked.” His heart lurched as he realized that he didn’t just mean he would kill for Steve. He would do...a lot more, if the man only asked for it.

“Wow, that’s...” Now it was Steve’s turn to flounder. True to form, he looked away, cheeks red. “Sorry, I’m...not really used to this.” He laughed a little, sheepish.

“Used to what?” Herobrine said quietly, his heart suddenly hammering when Steve looked up at him. The open, completely unguarded look on Steve’s face was nearly overwhelming. And Steve’s eyes—he had never been close enough to get a good look at them, and the lighting in the Nether was atrocious, but they were as extraordinary as he had been lead to believe—like the most brilliant amethyst. He had never seen anyone with purple eyes during his early life in the Overworld, but he knew about them. Everyone did. Purple eyes were a sign of either corruption or purity, depending on who you asked.

And though he knew in Steve’s case it was the former, he couldn’t help but think of the latter. Steve was just so good, he didn’t deserve to have his life tainted by the Void.

All too suddenly, Herobrine realized he was leaning forward a bit and stepped back abruptly, letting go of Steve’s arms in the process. His face was burning so fiercely he was a little worried he’d catch fire any second.

“Er—come on, we’re close.” He turned and started walking, gesturing for Steve to follow him. They were close to the warped forest and he was eager to see Steve’s reaction. And eager to forget what just happened.

Behind him he heard Steve laugh softly, and inexplicably he felt the heat spread down his neck. He didn’t do well with embarrassment, and he hoped Steve wouldn’t say anything because he didn’t want his foul mood to ruin their outing.

He jolted slightly at the press of a hand on his arm, looking over sharply. He didn’t want Steve to see his blush but he couldn’t find it in him to look away from Steve’s soft—and amused—smile.

“I’m not used to people caring.”

Herobrine swallowed nervously.

He cleared his throat and glanced away, that damn blush still staining his cheeks. He needed to change the mood from...whatever it was to something safer.

“Yeah? Well, get used to it.” He said it a little too loud, making Steve’s smile widen, and though the embarrassment was still there, it was manageable. They were just joking around. And before that they had had a moment but it was a thing friends did. Friends supported each other through stuff like that, right? Truth be told, Herobrine had never had a true friend so his experiences were a little skewed, but Steve made him want to try. “You’re my only source of entertainment, remember? Of course I care if you’re okay.”

He hid the truth in a joke because it was hard enough admitting to himself that he liked having Steve around, nevermind telling the man outright about it. But jokes and underhanded compliments he could do.

They lapsed into a silence that was more comfortable than before. Herobrine kept repeating Steve’s words in his head—I’m not used to people caring. Herobrine could relate to that. Even before he had gotten his powers, he hadn’t had the easiest time making friends. It just wasn’t in his nature to seek out that ‘human connection.’ Part of why he’d fought so hard to get power from the Wither in the first place was that he had thought himself above being merely ‘human.’ He saw it as a weakness.

...Of course, he was going to ignore the fact that just a few hours ago he had been wandering around in a daze because Steve had left and Herobrine hadn’t known what to do with himself in the meantime, despite having spent countless years by himself and happy for it. Now that he thought about it, he’d probably known Steve for all of a handful of hours total and he was already starting to miss the human’s company when he was gone. That raised conflicting feelings in him, for numerous reasons.

He didn’t like feeling in any way dependent on someone, but he enjoyed Steve’s judgement-free company.

He didn’t like the extreme rage that threatened to choke him at the very thought of something happening to Steve—it didn’t make any sense and he hated feeling out of control. After 200 years, he liked to think he had a pretty good grip on his powers and emotions, but some time around Steve and all that hard won control went right out the window. He blamed the Void, though he knew that wasn’t fully it. Being around the Wither day in and day out didn’t incite such strong feelings. The only thing he felt strongly when around the Wither was annoyance, but that had nothing to do with their connection and everything to do with the Wither itself. With Steve it was like that too, except with more positive emotions. He still didn’t know if he preferred that or would rather have Steve’s presence be a bother—that would certainly make things real easy.

He looked over. Steve was observing their surroundings—nothing special, just more of the same old, same old—but he seemed genuinely enthralled by the environment. It was pure joy on his face. Herobrine felt his mind clear a bit at the sight. Maybe he should stop thinking so much and just focus on the here and now.

The existentially crisis could come later.

Herobrine could see the warped forest come into view ahead of them, far enough away that Steve wouldn’t be able to make it out yet. Perfect.

“We’re almost there,” Herobrine said, stopping and turning to Steve. “Close your eyes.”

Steve raised a brow but complied, closing his eyes without fuss. Herobrine didn’t know why that sent a jolt of heat through his veins. Steve was so trusting.

“Don’t open them until I say so, got it?”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m going to teleport us. Keep your eyes closed.”

“Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time.”

Cheeky, but Herobrine let it pass without comment, teleporting them quickly, eager for this.

Steve held his breath as they teleported, unable to help himself.

The ground became slightly softer, with a more natural give, like dirt, as opposed to the slight give of spongy netherrack he’d gotten used to. The temperature, amazingly enough, dropped ever so slightly, probably not by much in the grand scheme, but it was immediately noticeable and a relief at that. It still felt too hot, but it was muted somehow. The ambient sound of fire crackling and burning also faded, something eerie he couldn’t make out taking its place.

“Alright,” Herobrine said. His voice was not next to Steve like he expected, instead somewhere in front of and to the left of him. “You can open them.”

Steve did.

He breath left him in a rush, eyes widening as he took in the sight. It was beautiful. Much like the crimson forest, there were actual trees and grass, everything from the ground to the leaves a pleasant shade of teal. There were also strange veins that sprouted from the ground and shot straight into the air, swaying softly in an imaginary breeze. The teal made the area seem calmer, less life threatening. Steve could see what Herobrine meant by ‘peaceful.’

“It’s amazing,” he breathed, looking from his right to his left until his gaze landed on Herobrine, who had on the most smug expression. “I can’t believe something like this can exist in the Nether.”

“I told you you’d love it.”

Steve did love it. As much as he liked the adventure and the thrill and the action, he enjoyed the calm and quiet as well. This place was an oasis in an otherwise hellish nightmare.

They ventured into the forest. Somewhat unfortunately, the terrain was the only interesting part of the biome, bar the pure ‘newness’ of the whole thing. It was just trees and plants, stretching on and on, and a curious lack of mobs.

“Are you still keeping mobs away or is this place just deserted?” Steve asked, leaning against a short stump as they stopped to rest.

“Both,” Herobrine answered. He had his eyes fixed on the ground, collecting any of the large mushroom-ish growths he spotted. Aside from the color, they appeared to be similar to Overworld mushrooms. He’d handed one to Steve, who’d been turning it over in his hands absentmindedly while he watched Herobrine work.

After a few moments, Herobrine explained, “The only mobs that come here are endermen. Unless intentionally lead here, other mobs tend to stay away.”

“Huh.” Steve looked around. Still just trees. No mobs. “Then why aren’t there any endermen?”

“Beats me,” Herobrine said. Steve got the impression he didn’t care. He seemed pretty focused on his task.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like? I’m collecting warped fungus.”

Gee, as if that was supposed to answer his question. “Is there a reason or have you actually been crazy this whole time and you’ve just been playing me for a fool?”

Herobrine stood up and smirked. “You don’t need me to make you look like a fool, you handle that all by yourself.”

Steve threw the fungus at him and it bounced harmlessly off Herobrine’s chest as he laughed. The sound sent tingles down his spine and he blushed, unable to keep a smile off his face. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Herobrine laugh before. It was...nice. He liked that Herobrine could laugh around him.

“Well? What are they for? You don’t eat them, do you?”

“Gods no.” Herobrine looked disgusted as he said it. “They taste like the most chewy, bland thing you can imagine, plus they offer no nutritional value. It’d be pointless to eat them even if their terrible taste and texture didn’t bother you.”

Steve hummed, then held up his hand. “Lemme see one.”

Herobrine tossed one to him and he inspected it closer. The flat top was fairly tough, but so were Overworld mushrooms until they were cooked properly. “Have you tried cooking them?”

“Yes. Doesn’t work. Any moisture they hold instantly evaporates once released. Cooking them just makes them tougher, hence the chewiness.” Herobrine paused, then added, “Though obviously I don’t know what they’d turn out like if cooked in the Overworld, though their taste doesn’t lead me to believe it’d be much different.”

“Hm. Maybe I’ll give it a try.” Steve stuffed the fungus into his bundle. Couldn’t hurt.

“Yeah you do that. But to answer your original question, I’m collecting them for the striders around my fortress.”

Steve perked up at that. “Striders? Those are the...the, uh...shit, I know you mentioned them once before...” He pursed his lips, thinking hard about what Herobrine had said about them, but he was drawing a blank.

“They’re a peaceful mob that can walk on lava.”

“Ah, right! I remember now. You said they can be ridden, right? Oh, and this is the warped fungus you mentioned. So they eat this?”

Herobrine nodded. “Yep, the little bastards go crazy for it. You can get them to follow you around or you can tie some fungus to a stick and have them lead you around on lava. Not that I’d need that, but for you it might be fun.”

Steve nodded along but stopped, confused. “Wait, why wouldn’t you need that?”

“I—“ Herobrine cut himself off, then the most devious smile appeared on his face. Steve was instantly suspicious.

“I never told you, did I?” He said. He walked over to Steve and shoved the fungus into his arms. He struggled to hold them all and huffed, but his irritation quickly faded into cautious curiosity as Herobrine walked over to a small, nearby lava pool. 

Herobrine knelt and looked over at him. A bad feeling came over him and he stood from the stump. “Wait,” he called out, but Herobrine just looked down at the lava and, without hesitation, plunged his hand into it.

“Wait—No!” Forgetting the fungus, he rushed over and knelt beside Herobrine, pushing at his shoulder to get him away from the lava. “Stop, what are you doing!”

“Relax, I’m fine,” Herobrine said, pulling his hand out. Steve stared with wide eyes as lava dripped down his arm, but his hand was not horribly burned like he would have expected. In fact, it looked perfectly normal as Herobrine flipped it around to show both sides. “See?”

“What...I thought...How...”

He was truly speechless, until Herobrine said with an amused smirk, “Aw, were you worried about me? That’s cute.”

Steve’s heart was hammering as the sudden burst of adrenaline to his system slowly faded. “Gods, don’t fucking do that shit! What the fuck man!” He punched Herobrine’s arm lightly in retaliation but the man just laughed. Steve smiled despite himself, because sure, Herobrine had stuck his hand in lava to scare him, but he had also stuck his hand in lava. And he was fine.

“Sorry but I couldn’t help myself,” Herobrine stood and then held out a hand—the other one—for him, hoisting him upright as well. Steve was too flustered to think twice about it. “But yeah, I’m immune to lava and fire. So I don’t need a strider to cross large spans of lava. I can just swim.”

Steve’s head spun just trying to imagine that. “Seriously? That’s awesome! I can’t even imagine what that would be like.”

Herobrine shrugged, leading Steve back over to where he’d carelessly dropped the warped fungus in his panic and started picking them back up. “Lava is more resistant than water, but otherwise it’s the same principle.” Herobrine handed him several of the fungus to hold and then turned to survey their surroundings. “Do you want to keep looking around or return to the fortress?”

Steve took one last long look at the warped forest before turning to Herobrine. “We can head back for now. It’s been pretty peaceful and I’d hate for my terrible luck to act up and get us in trouble.”

Herobrine snorted out a laugh. “With me around, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he followed Herobrine out of the warped forest. “Yeah okay Mr. Hero, just get us back in one piece.”

Herobrine glanced over his shoulder and winked.

Steve studiously ignored the way his heart fluttered.

Chapter Text

Ever since Herobrine had brought that human into their midst, the Wither could sense a sort of...change, to the air. Nothing physical, but something strictly felt way deep down, at one’s core. Its insides trembled with the prospect of new Void. The presence of Void within it and within Herobrine was stale, but when the human was around, the fortress was saturated by a fresh Void, a taste of something that sent its body into shivers of anticipation.

The human was gone—had come and gone, it sensed, with Herobrine in tow—but that fresh taste of Void still permeated the air. Perhaps the creature that Herobrine had captured.

It would like to see for itself.

It closed all six of its eyes and sought out one of its skeletons. The nearest wither skeleton to the dungeon trembled violently as the Wither took over its body and saw through its eyes. Then it marched down to the dungeon and found the prisoner. The closer it got, the heavier the air became until the Wither would be salivating, if its skeleton had the capability for it.

Stepping into the room, the Wither instantly honed in on the creature. Skin and exposed bits of muscle, organs, and bones black as night, just like an enderman, but body ravaged enough to perfectly imitate a zombie. But this was no zombie nor was it an enderman, that much was clear to the Wither. 

It was a human, who had tried taking Void for itself and been mutated for its efforts. The Wither had seen this happen many times—some of its skeletons were these very individuals, humans obsessed with the Void but too ignorant or stupid to realize how to obtain it for themselves. Herobrine had been the only human it had personally dealt with who was smart enough to ask for help in obtaining Void.

Like Herobrine had claimed, the creature was not in its right state of mind. It was laying on the floor, sprawled out in an awkward manner with one ankle chained to the wall. The Wither approached the creature and forced its skeleton body to kneel, uncaring of stiff joints and the sound of bones creaking in protest.

It poked the creature’s chest and was impressed when the former human groaned and opened its eyes. The miss-matched eye color was not a good look for it.

Although lucid enough to look at the wither skeleton, the creature seemed otherwise unaware of everything else. Wither skeletons could not physically speak, and the dungeon was too far for the Wither to speak directly to the creature, so it would not even attempt communication. Whether the once human wanted or not, the Wither knew of one way to...help its current condition.

If it wanted Void so bad, then the Wither would gladly give it some.

But first, given the fragile state of its body, the chain would have to be removed, or the creature would only lose a foot attempting to escape.

The Wither stood and hefted the skeleton’s sword above its head, then slammed it down hard on the chain. Two more powerful swings and one of the chains finally snapped. The cuff was still on, but the creature was no longer chained to the wall.

Kneeling again, it rested the skeleton’s hand on the creature’s chest and pushed, indenting the loose skin. A faint, dark purple glow lit up the skeleton’s hand as the Wither extracted the meager amount of Void inside the wither skeleton and forced it into the creature. The creature arched and gasped wetly, then started screaming in agony, thrashing around and clawing at the ground. Its weak skin tore as its fingers scrapped the hard nether brick, exposing the muscle and then bone underneath as it continued trying to find purchase to escape the source of its pain.

But there was no escape.

The Wither stared down dispassionately as the creature continued writhing and screaming, curiously noting the purple eye becoming dimmer until it fully resembled a human eye.

The Wither retreated from the wither skeleton’s mind as its bones turned white and it crumbled to dust once the last bit of Void was removed.

It opened its six eyes, back in its chamber, and would have smiled if it could.

After 200 years, it was about time its plans started coming to fruition.

Blake knew pain, but this was something else.

This was needles under his skin. This was molten lava poured into a gaping wound in his chest, scorching his insides over and over again. This was lightning arcing up and down his spine, his arms and legs jerking and twisting without his control, making terrible snapping and creaking noises that only furthered his pain induced mania. He’d lost feeling in his fingers. It hurt to breathe.

At the height of the pain, he was struck by a hunger that threatened to choke him, it was so intense. His very core felt hollowed out, empty like someone had scooped all his insides out. It was a hunger that went beyond the physical realm.

“Mmmmm,” he groaned, rolling onto his stomach. Black liquid dripped from his mouth as gravity shifted his loose organs around, but the pain was absent. However, it took monumental effort just to turn himself over and the action left him panting, vision wavering. His body suddenly felt heavy, as heavy as twenty anvils pressing down on his back, pinning him to the floor.

He wanted to pass out, but remained unfortunately conscious. But the longer he was, the farther away rational thought became. He needed to fill this emptiness.

“Mmm-Mo...” Attempting speech triggered racking coughs, leaving him shaking afterwards but it was getting easier to ignore the exhaustion. The emptiness was all-encompassing, driving other thoughts or concerns away. Pain didn’t matter, exhaustion didn’t matter, limitations didn’t matter.

As if possessed, he dragged himself towards the open door, then found the strength to raise himself into a crawl. The pain and discomfort were gone. Seeing the bones of his fingers did nothing. His mind could not focus on anything but this debilitating hunger.

“More!”

Steve was in a good mood.

In fact, he felt amazing—light, like he could float among the clouds. He didn’t ever remember feeling such a carefree way, and he didn’t want it to end.

The walk back to the fortress was filled with idle chatter and jokes, a far cry from the walk earlier.

Steve had found out through careful questioning that Herobrine’s knowledge of the Overworld was severely lacking. He knew it had been 200 years since Herobrine had last been to the Overworld but he hadn’t connected what that could mean. Herobrine didn’t know about phantoms or pandas or polar bears. He’d never seen terra-cotta or bamboo or used a smoker or blast furnace. The amount of things Steve was learning Herobrine didn’t know about was mind boggling. The absurdity of it made him laugh but Herobrine didn’t take any offense to it.

Likewise, Herobrine had some knowledge of the Overworld that Steve had never heard of before. Villages only used to exist in plains or desert biomes, empty areas that were easy for travelers to reach and provided plenty of visibility in case of approaching mobs. Any cave or tunnel near bedrock would be filed with a heavy fog, thickest at bedrock itself. And apparently all taiga biomes were always covered in snow. It was so fascinating to hear, but also a little sad if he thought about it. Herobrine was missing out on so much of the Overworld, and despite Steve’s own hang ups about it, he still thought it was unfair for Herobrine to be stuck in the Nether. He’d made a mental note to ask why Herobrine didn’t just go to the Overworld. He got the feeling that it was going to be a sore subject for the other man. Surely, if Herobrine wanted to leave the Nether, he could. But he hadn’t. Steve didn’t want to pry, especially since they were having a fairly light-hearted conversation. And, not to mention, it wasn’t his place. He wanted Herobrine to want to tell him, in time.

And there would be plenty of time, in the future. Herobrine might have issues with the Overworld but he delighted in telling Steve all about the Nether and its own beauty. Biomes that intersected in interesting ways, mobs that acted in peculiar ways when no one was around, areas of the crimson and warped forests that brought about feelings of peace. It all sounded amazing and when Steve said as much, Herobrine promised to show him all that and more, the largest and brightest smile Steve had seen yet on his face. Yes, the Nether was hot and dangerous, but Steve would suffer through it just to see Herobrine smile like that again.

Steve estimated they were about halfway back to the fortress when Herobrine stopped without warning. He was looking to their right, at a crimson forest that was not too far away. Steve tried to follow Herobrine’s gaze, but he couldn’t see anything except the trees.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked. This behavior was not necessarily unusual for Herobrine but Steve was getting a bad feeling the longer Herobrine stood there, glaring into the forest. “Herobrine?”

At the sound of his name he glanced over, but both of them focused back on the forest at the nearing sound of swords clashing.

“What’s going on in there?” Steve wondered aloud. There was definitely a fight going on, but that didn’t make any sense. It was happening in a crimson forest, so maybe piglins? Did they fight amongst each other? Steve didn’t know. He might have guessed it was more humans, but the Nether was dangerous and most humans refused to come here for a reason.

The answer came stumbling out of the trees in front of them—it was a human, a man wearing a golden helmet and leather armor. He was breathing hard but seemingly uninjured. And behind him, two piglins, one with a sword and one with a crossbow.

The man looked around frantically and spotted them instantly. Not a surprise—Steve was openly gaping in shock at seeing another human and Herobrine appeared to have gone completely still, so it’s not like they were trying to hide.

“Hey!” The man called breathlessly, running up to them. “You gotta help me!” He reached out as if to grab Steve’s shoulders but in an instant Herobrine was between them, pushing the man back. Surprised at the unwelcome greeting, the man fell backwards on his ass, grunting in pain. He looked up sharply in disbelief, but faltered when he realized who was in front of him.

Steve was also surprised at Herobrine’s behavior. He didn’t think the man was going to hurt him or anything—he was probably just going to beg for help. But Herobrine had slotted himself between them as if there was a real danger in front of Steve. The consideration was endearing if not completely presumptuous. Though, with Steve’s luck, it might pay for one of them to be conscious of danger. The Aether knows Steve wasn’t most of the time.

“What are you doing here?” Herobrine demanded through gritted teeth, taking a threatening step forward. The man scrambled to stand and backed up a step in turn, holding his hands up.

“W-Whoa, aren’t you—?”

“Answer the question!”

“Okay! Okay, hey, easy now! I was just trying to get into the bastion remnant nearby! Didn’t realize opening a chest even while wearing this—“ he flicked his helmet— “would trigger those damn piglins.” He turned to gesture to the piglins which had stopped their chase and were instead just standing at the tree line, staring at the three of them. Steve wondered if they weren’t leaving the forest intentionally or if Herobrine was holding them at bay.

“Hey, they stopped,” the man observed. He looked at Herobrine. “Are...Are you doing that?”

Was this all some kind of crazy fever dream? Maybe the heat had finally gotten to him and he’d passed out and maybe even hit his head on the way down. How else was this to be explained?

“Where is your portal?” Herobrine demanded angrily. The man gulped. At least he had the brains to look afraid.

“B-By the remnant, at the edge of the forest.”

Herobrine growled and then looked at the piglins. “Go home! Now!” Herobrine’s tone left no room for argument and the piglins were smart enough to realize that. They turned tail and ran, disappearing into the trees.

The man sagged in relief, smiling tiredly at Herobrine. “Hey thanks, you really saved my—“

“Shut up,” Herobrine snapped, and the man did. When Herobrine turned to Steve, his expression of intense anger softened. “I’m going to be right back. Don’t move from here, okay? I’ll only be a moment.”

Steve nodded, then watched as the man yelped and tried and failed to outrun Herobrine before he grabbed him and they teleported away.

Steve smiled, remembering his own first meeting with Herobrine. It went practically the same way—he wondered if Herobrine had rehearsed it. That thought was amusing and he made a note to bring it up when they were on their way again.

He enjoyed a few quiet moments watching some striders in a nearby lava pool before more movement at the tree line caught his attention. He figured it was more piglins and briefly wondered if he was gonna have to fight them if Herobrine didn’t return in time.

Instead, at the edge of the forest was another human—a woman. She had dirty blonde hair and was wearing a black, sleeveless tunic, pants, and boots—no armor, but she had an axe strapped to her waist. But stranger than seeing another human, let alone one without armor, was the fact that she was blindfolded.

The woman, despite the visual impairment, was staring right at him. Her appearance in the Nether was suspicious enough, but something about her got his heart beating faster in trepidation. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, just in case.

Silently, the woman stepped away from the trees and walked forward until she was standing a few feet away. The closer she came, the tenser Steve got. His grip on the hilt was making his hand ache as he waited for the moment the woman attacked him.

However, the woman just stood silently, staring at him. Maybe if she continued wasting time like this, Herobrine would return and scare her away.

(Hey, a guy could hope.)

“You know, of all the things I thought you could be doing in the Nether, hanging around Herobrine, of all people, was not one of them,” the woman said suddenly, and Steve adjusted the grip on the sword hilt, slick from sweat, anxious and feeling antsy.

His instinct was to retort back, but something held his tongue. This...this was extremely abnormal. Two humans after how many days of coming here and seeing no one else? The first man must have been a distraction but there’s no way they could have known Herobrine would leave him alone. If that was even their plan. Either way, he refused to believe it was coincidence.

The woman’s face didn’t change, but she tilted her head slightly. “Nothing to say?”

Steve swallowed heavily—forcing down the anxiety threatening to choke him—and drew his sword. 

“I think this says enough,” he commented, holding the sword at his side but a clear threat regardless. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“But we do,” another feminine voice said right in his ear. He flinched hard and made to turn around, but before he could, a small, razor sharp blade pressed against his throat, halting his movement. Shit, he hadn’t even heard her come up behind him. 

“No sudden moves, okay?” The woman behind him said, lightly running the small blade against the side of his neck. Not enough to draw blood, but the threat was there. An uncontrollable shiver raced down his spine. “Be a good boy and drop the sword.”

Steve hesitated, but the women didn’t let him think about it. She pressed the knife into his skin and the sting of a cut made him hiss. A surface wound, barely more than a paper cut, but she hadn’t hesitated. Steve got the hint—he discarded his sword. The knife eased off his neck. “Good boy! There’s hope for you yet!”

He could hear the smirk in her voice as the other woman closed the distance between them until she was standing directly in front of Steve, an arm’s length away.

“We don’t have a lot of time, so let’s make this quick. Are you going to come quietly or do we need to use force?” The woman said it so casually, almost bored sounding. Steve was still just trying to figure out what the hell was happening and how his and Herobrine’s time together could have gone so wrong.

He swallowed heavily. The blade pressed harder against his skin. “For what? What do you even want with me?”

The woman in front of him made a face of pity, while the woman behind him giggled, and her blade left his neck to rest gently under his eye. He barely breathed or moved as the she ran the knife gently along the fragile skin there.

“Because of these, of course,” she answered, then whispered softly, “It means you’re special.” Her tone sent more shivers down his spine. He distinctly did not want to spend any more time near her.

“We’re also looking for Blake,” the woman said, and instantly Steve felt a stab of fear shoot through him, clenching around his heart. Oh Gods, were these people with Blake? Had they come to finish whatever he’d started? His breathing picked up as flashes of that night played through his mind. The sting of the cuts, the frigid air, the weakness of his body. And the missing chunk of time where anything could have happened. He started trembling slightly.

“I—“ He paused, words lodged in his throat. The press of the knife returning to his neck didn’t help. “I-I don’t know where Blake is.” He tried to keep his tone neutral, to not betray the fact that just hearing Blake’s name made him panic, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded.

The woman’s face was blank as they stared at each other. Then she said, “Mirai.”

The woman behind him—Mirai—giggled. Steve felt the knife leave his neck, and though he was relieved, he felt far from safe.

Her fingers curled around the top part of his helmet’s facial opening and pulled up, slipping the helmet off his head and tossing it to the side. He watched in dismay as it rolled to a stop some feet away. Dammit, was he going to need to make another set of armor?

The knife returned, tracing along his jaw until he turned his head to the side, grimacing. She leaned over his shoulder a bit and their faces were suddenly inches apart. She had blonde hair with sparkling seafoam green eyes, and a sweet smile.

“Take your chestplate off or I’m going to stab you in the shoulder, right here.” She patted the space just below his right clavicle, the meaty bit of flesh that could be stabbed to maximize hurt and not be fatal. Then she dug her fingers in, making him grimace at the discomfort. “Do you understand? And if you manage to escape me, Adelaide here just loves showing me how much better she’s been getting with her axe,” she informed him cheerfully, offering a bright smile. She looked more like she was talking about something pleasant rather than threatening to stab him. He gulped and nodded.

She withdrew from him and he looked back at Adelaide. She was now holding the axe firmly, ready to attack if Steve tried anything...which he wanted to do badly but he was outnumbered, not to mention Mirai had a tactical advantage on him.

With a shaky sigh he hefted the chestplate up and off, tossing it aside as well. He still had armor protecting his legs and feet, but he felt practically defenseless.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Mirai said, pressing against his back again. Like Adelaide, she wasn’t wearing armor either. He squirmed in place, uncomfortable with her pressed flush against him. Despite himself, he felt a blush creep onto his cheeks.

Steve tried to ignore Mirai by looking at Adelaide. He couldn’t help but notice that she was looking at his arms.

Adelaide reached forward to grab his arm but he jerked it back on instinct. The tip of the knife pressed hard against his skin, hard enough he had to tilt his head back or have the underside of his jaw sliced open.

“None of that now,” Mirai tutted, tapping the knife against his jugular. “Remember, if you’re a good boy, you won’t get cut.”

Adelaide grabbed his arm and ripped the bandage off, revealing the thin lines of the carving. She inspected it silently, twisting his arm this way and that without regard to any pain she might cause. She then did the same to the other arm.

Adelaide looked up and nodded, but not to Steve. Mirai’s other hand pressed flat against his lower stomach and his breath hitched. Her fingers curled under his shirt and lifted it, revealing his stomach to Adelaide. His face was burning from both Mirai’s touch and Adelaide’s attention—even with a blindfold, he could feel how intense her gaze was.

Adelaide reached forward and pressed her fingers lightly over the carving, instantly sending a shudder down his spine. Normally he might not mind having the attention of two woman on him but something about their interest in the carvings spiked only fear through him. He had to grit his teeth and look away lest he be sick. His heart was pounding but at the same time, it felt like it was being squeezed by a tight fist. Thankfully, after a few seconds, Adelaide stepped back, her expression one of displeasure, and Mirai dropped his shirt. He was able to breathe a little easier.

“I suppose I should apologize for what happened,” Adelaide said. “Blake had orders to bring you to us but it appears he went against them. The runes he carved were primarily suppose to make it so you couldn’t leave the Overworld, but there’s no evidence of that in the runes he actually carved.”

Steve wished he could be surprised something like this was happening, but considering it was him, he wasn’t at all surprised. Just another day in his shitty, fucked up life. Still, he couldn’t help but feel angered by Adelaide’s ‘apology,’ though he pushed the anger back to let it simmer in the back of his mind. 

“What do you even want with me? And why now?”

Adelaide crossed her arms. “Well you certainly don’t make yourself easy to find, but that’s not surprising. People like you hide for good reason. We only knew where you were because one of our agents was told about you from her friend who visits you regularly.”

It was like a knife directly to the heart, because that could only be Alex.

He knew it. He never should have trusted her. He knew that her friendship was too good to be true. Regular people like her didn’t just accept something so easily that everyone else had a problem with. He was such a fool to think that maybe there could be someone out there to see him for him. He should have known better than to hope for someone to care about him because they wanted to, rather than because it helped push their own damn agenda.

Mirai shifted behind him and that tiny movement brought all that simmering anger rushing to the front. He was so angry (and heartbroken) that he needed her to stop touching him now.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed her hand—the one holding the knife to his throat—and pulled, ducking at the same time to throw her over his shoulder. It was a sloppy maneuver and he felt the knife scrape across his skin before she was away from him, but when he righted himself and created some distance between them, the wound on his neck didn’t feel so bad. Bleeding yes, but he’d survive.

Mirai huffed as she landed awkwardly on the netherrack and Adelaide just watched dispassionately, like she’d expected this, which just served to piss Steve off even more. How dare she assumed to know him.

“You bastard! That hurt!” Mirai whined, getting to her feet and wiping her clothes clean of dust.

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” He didn’t have his sword in hand, but it was still laying a few feet away. With the distance he’d put between them, he would be able to grab the sword before they could attack him. It was a small comfort.

Mirai scoffed and glared at him. “After all this effort to get to you? No way man, we—“

“Mirai, it’s okay,” Adelaide interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We can—“

A loud roar cut Adelaide off, all three of them startling and look at the source. In the direction Steve knew to lead to the fortress, there was a mob of some kind standing nearby, panting heavily. It’s body was entirely black, but it was too short to be an enderman. It’s clothing was in tatters and Steve felt a little queasy at the sight of slick organs visible beneath its ragged skin, the look of a particularly well-worn zombie.

Herobrine’s words from earlier came to him suddenly. A hybrid between a zombie and an enderman... This creature fit that description perfectly. Was it the cause of the portal going out? Did it have anything to do with what Blake did?

“What is that?” Mirai said, tone equally between disgust and morbid curiosity.

Adelaide stepped towards it, axe held out to the side. She made a sound of clear disgust. “I don’t know, but it’s interrupting.”

The heaving mob straightened up and snarled at them. It seemed to be staring straight at Steve and something about it felt familiar to him. The longer they stared at each other, the worse Steve felt, like there was an anvil pressing on his chest, choking the breath out of him.

The mob crouched, and then lunged at them, faster than any mob Steve had ever seen before. It covered the ground between them in a few seconds and reached out for him, completely ignoring Mirai and Adelaide.

“More!”

Steve was stunned, too slow to think of what he should do. All he could feel was a sudden and heavy, oppressive fear as he looked into the snarling mob’s face.

Adelaide stepped in front of him and used the flat side of the axe like a bat to connect solidly with the side of the mob’s head. It dropped like a sack of bricks, but it wasn’t out—it groaned, holding a hand to its head. A thick black substance oozed from under its hand.

“Ew!” Mirai cried. Steve didn’t look over at her. His eyes were fixed solely on the mob. His heart was pounding and he could hear his blood roaring in his ears.

“Stay back,” Adelaide said, more to Mirai, holding her axe in front of her in case the mob charged again.

As soon as the mob looked up and glared at Adelaide with half its face caved in, Adelaide rounded on Mirai, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the forest. “Let’s go, we’re leaving.”

”But what about—“

“We can come back later.”

Steve was surprised enough at their sudden departure that he glanced over and met Mirai’s unreadable expression before the two girls ran off. Steve watched them go, both relieved and horrified. They were leaving him alone—good. They were leaving him alone with this thing—not good.

The mob rose to its feet and shook its head, eyes snapping to him. Now that part of its head was caved in, its face was misshapen and leaking more of that thick black substance. Steve was pretty sure he could see its brain. But despite the damage, the feral anger in its expression was clear as it shifted its gaze from the girls to Steve.

His discarded sword was still an option. If he could just get to it...

The mob lunged and Steve dodged to the side, rolling over his sword to grab it and then immediately whipping around to face the mob once on his feet. Only it was faster than he was familiar with and was on him before he could get a proper swing off. He ended up holding the sword sideways at the mob’s neck to fend off its teeth as it snapped and snarled, clawing desperately at his arms to get to him.

Steve was trying not to panic as the mob’s actions grew frenzied. His arms were starting to shake as it pressed against the sword, stronger than a normal zombie. Too much longer and it would overpower him. Already his arms were littered with scratches, by no means injuries that would put him out of commission but annoying all the same. They stung and itched like mad.

He let the mob push him back a bit before making a move. He took a deliberate step back and then yanked the sword away, sidestepping to let the mob stumble past him. Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to beat it, so he turned and ran towards the forest.

“Herobrine!” He yelled, hoping the man would hear him and come to his rescue. Surely Herobrine could keep this thing at bay. “Herobr—!” The mob slammed into his back and sent them both tumbling to the ground. Steve’s face smacked painfully into the netherrack but he ignored the throbbing to focus on throwing the mob off him, the panic of being pinned by it nearly overwhelming.

He yelled out in pain when his back erupted in fire, scorching lines being clawed into his flesh by the mob’s sharp fingers, much worse than his arms. The pain was like lava being drizzled onto his back, long lines of blinding pain that made his head spin and his stomach turn.

Gritting his teeth, he had no choice but to twist onto his back, gasping at the instant burn, and bring the sword up again, holding the flat part under the mob’s chin to keep it away. Like this, the mob could only reach his arms, which it raked its fingers against in manic hysteria, completely feral in its behavior. He winced as more scratches started marking his arms up. Though, compared to his back, the sting on his arms was manageable—aside from his back, he barely felt the pain over the pounding of his heart and the roaring of his blood, loud in his ears.

The mob gave a loud snarl and pulled back. The sudden loss of resistance against the sword threw Steve off balance and the mob was able to swat the sword to the side, ducking under it. Steve gasped in fear and shoved his hand under the mob’s chin instead, desperate to keep it away. With his other hand he attempted to jab the sword into the mob but though he felt it make contact, the angle was awkward and the mob either didn’t feel it or completely ignored it.

The mob stopped its wild flailing to grab his wrist—the one preventing it from getting closer—and squeezed until there was an audible crack. Steve howled in pain, instantly trying to retract his hand but the mob kept it’s tight grip, pinning it to the netherrack instead and completely immobilizing him.

He gasped, blinking away tears of pain. He glared at the mob which snarled back, leaning more heavily onto his pinned, broken wrist, which nearly made him black out. His stomach turned and he grit his teeth as the intense pain radiated down his entire arm.

“F-Fuck...off!” Steve yelled, using the sword he still had a grip on to swipe at the mob’s head. His wrist was on fire, a burning throb that kept trying for his attention and his hand was starting to tingle from lack of blood. He was in a bad way. But this damn thing wouldn’t cut him any godsdammed slack!

The mob reeled back to avoid the sword and Steve managed to get a leg under it, planting his foot squarely on its chest and pushing. The mob released its grip on his wrist as he sent it flying back. All at once, blood rushed back to his hand and his wrist pulsed angrily with his rapid heart, a terrible ache that made him even more queasy than he unfortunately already was. He hugged his broken wrist to his chest and used his other hand to prop himself up shakily. Panting from the exertion just that small action caused, he cursed as he looked up and saw the mob already scrambling back towards him.

He managed to stumble to his feet just as the mob swiped at him. Steve ducked and then ducked the second and third swipes, backing up each time. He knew he was giving too much ground up, that he was backing himself into a proverbial corner, but he couldn’t help it. The mob was too fast, too strong for him to handle, especially now that he was so injured. The pain of his arms and back had faded in the face of his broken wrist, but it was still there. The incessant ache of his arm combined wonderfully with the stinging cuts littering the rest of him, not to mention his exhaustion at keeping the mob at bay.

Herobrine, where are you? Steve wondered. He was trying not to let negative thoughts distract him, like how Herobrine could have easily been a part of this plan—whatever it was. He knew it didn’t make sense, that Herobrine hated humans, but Steve couldn’t help but feel that Herobrine had been gone too long. Herobrine must have heard his yell, right? So where was he? Herobrine wouldn’t knowingly leave him to fight this monster, right?

Steve wanted to think so. He just had to have hope.

That anger from earlier tried to rear its head. How dare those other humans and this thing interrupt his and Herobrine’s time together. It had been nice. And now it was ruined.

Incensed, he planted his feet firmly and threw his weight into an aggressive swing of his sword, hoping to catch the mob by surprise and end this before he lost the energy to continue. Only, instead of dodging like he was expecting, the mob tanked the hit, the sword sliding easily into the meat between its neck and shoulder. The mob roared in pain but was now close enough to grab both of Steve’s arms, right over the carvings.

Instant, white hot pain one hundred times worse than his wrist shot through him. He was pretty sure he blacked out for a few seconds because when he opened his eyes—which he didn’t remember closing—he was on his knees and the mob was leaning over him, still gripping his arms, a clear hunger etched into its expression as it loomed over him.

Time and awareness became secondary to the all encompassing pain coursing through him. It felt like there were brands pressing against his arms, lava being pumped into his bones and a knife scrapping against his nerves. Second after agonizing second, he felt more and more like his body was giving up on him.

Then—

When awareness came back to him, he found himself with his face pressed against the netherrack and his body aching like he’d lost a fight against an iron golem. He groaned and coughed, his throat burning like he’d been screaming himself hoarse. He tried to flop onto his back, only to gasp in pain when the slightest of movements felt like a knife to the spine. His body felt used, the muscles all aching and weak. His arms especially felt heavy and useless, the flesh tingling as if burned severely.

He felt exactly like he had a few nights ago, waking up exhausted in that plains biome.

It took monumental effort just to keep his eyes open, and eventually he managed to push himself up, though he started trembling once upright. His body just felt so drained, even just propping himself upright felt like pushing past his already stretched limits.

But he knew he was in more danger than just having sapped strength—there was a constant niggling in the back of his mind telling him that he needed to move, that he needed to fight and defend himself from that thing.

But, when he blinked hard enough to focus his vision and look around, he was alone. No sign of the mob, or the humans, or even Herobrine.

His sword was laying just out of reach. He leaned over to grab it and used it as a support to climb to his feet. His legs were unsteady beneath him but felt stronger than his arms, which were still tingling and shaking badly. 

However, when he tried to take a step, his leg gave out under him and sent him back to the netherrack. But that was fine. Moving was too exhausting. He would much prefer to just lay there. And, if he didn’t move, he didn’t hurt as much, so that was good. Because a lot of him hurt. His neck hurt, his arms hurt, his wrist hurt, his back hurt. It felt like his muscles, bones, and even his blood hurt. So yeah, laying down and not moving was good.

The next time he opened his eyes, he saw the netherrack under him was moving. It took him a while to blink enough times to realize he wasn’t seeing things. He also saw legs and a torso and the side of someone’s head. He was moving...on someone’s back?

“W-what...?”

“Trouble always seems to find you, doesn’t it?”

The instant relief he felt at hearing Herobrine’s voice was indescribable. He gave a tired, breathy laugh, tightening his grip as best he could around Herobrine’s neck. “Just...part of my...charm...I guess.” He winced at his voice, which sounded rough to his own ears.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you did it on purpose just to make me worry.”

Steve smiled, pressing his forehead into Herobrine’s shoulder and relishing the moment. Herobrine was here. He was safe.

“I would...never...” He could feel himself fading, but it was fine. Herobrine wouldn’t let anything else happen to him.

Herobrine made an incredulous sound and Steve could just imagine the look on his face. “I’m sure. Just rest, okay? We’ll be back soon.”

But Steve was already asleep.

Chapter Text

Feelings of inadequacy were not something Herobrine was used to confronting.

When he’d been human, he had been outgoing, charismatic, and ambitious. He had other, less...savory attributes as well, but for most of his life, he’d been able to charm or threaten his way through any situation.

He had done what no one else had been capable of—he had taken the mysterious power of the Void and with the help of a being like the Wither, he had made it his own. He had become something more than just human.

It had cost him. But he’d done it.

It was more than adequate.

But sitting there, head in his hands like he’d been for the last two hours, he felt like the lowest, most worthless piece of shit in existence.

His human life was little more than flashes of emotions, save for the fateful days leading up to his banishment and subsequent isolation. He remembered what it felt like to be human, but there was a disconnect between him and those emotions. After 200 years of feeling nothing but anger and then numbness when he accepted his fate—with a splattering of annoyance upon seeing any humans—he was sure time had done something to irrevocably damage his mental state.

He had been deeply irritated the first time he’d seen Steve. Another human come to die in the Nether. After the stretch of time wherein Herobrine would capture and torture humans, then release them to spread the tale of his cruelty and the Nether’s danger, he had thought that the number of appearances would drop. And though humans had learned to stay away, it seemed that some had not gotten the memo.

He could clearly remember the idiotic expression on Steve’s face when they met, and the surprise he himself had suppressed when he noticed Steve had purple eyes. Though never having met one of that kind, he knew the stories just as everyone else. At that point in time, he had a feeling that he would be seeing Steve again.

And he had been right. The anger had been swift to return when he found Steve in that crimson forest. He had been angry and then Steve had astounded him by having the audacity to argue with him. Humans saw him and cowered or fled. They didn’t argue.

It should have angered him more. It should have annoyed him more. But instead he’d only felt curiosity, some slumbering part of his psyche waking at the first notion of change.

Now he could say that he thought they were friends. Maybe not best friends, but two people who could get along and hang out and not have it be a terrible time. As a human Herobrine had only used friendship and relationships in general as a means to an end. With Steve, he didn’t want their friendship to be something trivial. It was new and fun. Herobrine could admit he liked having someone else to talk to, especially someone who wasn’t afraid of him, nor afraid to talk back to him.

And Steve was a peculiar human who, despite the many times he’d already been injured, kept returning to the Nether. He was determined to a fault and fairly open-minded and adventurous. Whether he was smiling or arguing, there was always life in everything he did. He truly loved living, despite what a horrible past Herobrine knew he must have suffered.

They really were alike, as the Wither had pointed out.

The Wither...

There was so much rage coursing through him that he was numb to it. The revelation about him and the Wither coupled with his own fuck up of leaving Steve to fend for himself was almost too much to bear. He wanted to curl up in a corner and block out the world to spare himself from all these emotions.

Herobrine looked up in the hopes that there had been some development during the time he’d been lost in his thoughts, but no, everything was, frustratingly, the same.

Letting out a quiet sigh, he finally shifted his position on the chair, wincing as his stiff muscles screamed at him. He slouched and tipped his head over the back of the chair, staring dully at the ceiling. His emotions kept cycling between anger, guilt, and worry. It was exhausting, replaying the last several hours in his mind over and over and berating himself for his choices, but it was the least he deserved.

He was currently stuck in an endless cycle of overthinking what had happened, becoming angry at himself, promising himself to do better, looking at Steve and feeling guilty, trying to justify his actions, and then feeling angry at himself all over again. 

It had been several hours since Steve was last awake, since those precious seconds when Herobrine had been taking him back to the fortress. Not necessarily unusual, given the state he’d been in, but considering Herobrine had found actual bottles of water in Steve’s bundle once they’d returned to the fortress and was able to make proper potions of regeneration, he would have thought Steve to be healthy enough to regain consciousness by now.

But he hadn’t.

The injuries had been bad. Blood and violence no longer phased him, but his hand had been shaking so badly when he’d been making the potions that he’d had to stop and take deep breaths to calm himself down lest he ruin the potions.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop thinking, this is all my fault. And then the memory of finding Steve with that thing would make him squeeze his eyes shut tight and grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached. 

It had taken him a moment to compose himself, and then he had finished the potions. He had to be strong—Steve needed him to have his act together. It was his own damn fault Steve was like this in the first place.

The potions did their job, though Herobrine had stood there and watched with a critical eye to make sure the regeneration was working smoothly. The slash on Steve’s neck, the angry cuts on his back, the multitude of cuts on his arms, his broken wrist—it was all healed, more or less fully, after the second potion. And any exhaustion that Steve might have experienced from pushing himself despite his injuries would have disappeared as well. He was returned to a healthy, able state.

So why didn’t he wake?

There was only one thing Herobrine could think of as to why.

The marks on Steve’s arms had become like brands, seared into the flesh. They were red and angry, radiating heat if he held his hand over one. He had wrapped them carefully, ignoring the symbols and their meanings or he really was going to freak out. He instead occupied his thoughts with questions as to why they were the only injuries not healing from the regeneration potions. Curiously enough, the mark on his stomach, in contrast, was the same as before, not a single sign of a burn. Another mystery added to the pile.

Herobrine could only stand to look at either Steve’s slack, unresponsive face or the wrapped burns for a few seconds before the guilt became overwhelming. He had been such a selfish fool—even after hearing Steve call out to him, he had not been able to ignore the discovery that his entire life was basically a lie—

”Herobrine!”

The yell was faint but he heard it clearly. Steve was calling for him. He didn’t sound good. Something was probably wrong.

“Herobr—“ Steve’s voice cut off. Nothing good could come of that. Steve could be in danger. He should go see what was going on.

But he didn’t move. He didn’t think he could even though he wanted to. He couldn’t even tear himself away from looking into the woman’s eyes. The implication of what he was realizing was disturbing. All this time left to rot in the Nether and it was all meaningless...?

The sound of distant screams and the woman talking could not be heard over the roaring in his ears. By the time the woman finally broke eye contact and dragged her two companions into the portal, Herobrine was on the verge of some kind of panic attack. He was breathing rapidly and his heart was pounding hard against his chest, almost painfully so. And underneath it all, a fearsome rage that threatened to burn him from the inside out.

All at once, he realized what had happened and gasped, genuine fear shooting down his spine, like ice in his veins. He teleported immediately, hoping he wasn’t too late—

But he had been.

Herobrine squeezed his eyes shut, vehemently willing away the burn he felt in them, and brought his hands up to cover his face. Crying was a weakness he never allowed himself, but it was too much in too short amount of time. The rage that was always lurking just under his skin, the uncertainty of how, exactly, to be a good friend, the tentative happiness he felt when around Steve, the despair of losing something he was realizing was priceless to him, and the fear of confronting the Wither about what he’d learned. Too much. Too much. Too much.

The sound of an enderman teleporting into the room brought him out of his thoughts. He scrubbed at his face before looking at Buddy, who was now standing in the middle of the room, holding out a bottle half filled with water.

With a shaky sigh, Herobrine pulled himself together and accepted the bottle.

“Good job Bud,” he said tiredly, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. He’d long ago stopped caring what the enderman brought him, despite his clear instructions. “This time, try getting the bottle filled all the way up.” He stood and walked to a desk pushed up against the wall, placing the half filled bottle next to the others filled with inadequate amounts of water and picking up an empty one. He held it out for Buddy, who took it instantly.

“The water hurts my hands.”

Herobrine let out a quiet sigh, leaning back against the desk. “I know. Just do your best. For Steve, okay?” He wasn’t used to...talking with the mobs. He was used to commanding them. But Buddy had helped Steve and Steve liked having Buddy around, so he could play nice. Plus he was tired and didn’t want to argue.

Buddy made a soft sound and teleported away. Herobrine stared down at the carpet. He remembered when he had come across the deceased bodies of a group of travelers, their supplies sitting scattered about them. Mobs didn’t care for trinkets, though if there had been any gold, the piglins surely would have sniffed it out. He had unabashedly gone through their belongings and taken anything that struck his fancy, which included the rug he was staring at. It was nice, a mixture of red and purple and gold. He had put it in his room because it reminded him of the rug in his village’s library.

He didn’t remember what that rug looked like anymore.

”The Gods have not meddled in the Overworld’s affairs in almost 180 years.”

Herobrine closed his eyes and gripped the desk hard enough to indent the wood. He took slow, measured breaths until the rage cooled a little, leaving him even more exhausted. Resigned, he walked back over to the chair and sat heavily upon it, resuming his silent vigil.

The next several hours were only interrupted by Buddy’s sporadic appearances and Herobrine’s quiet acceptance of whatever Buddy brought back. He would send Buddy off with a new bottle and tell it to bring him back a full bottle, to which Buddy would kindly let him know the water hurt its hands, and Herobrine would agree but tell it that the bottles were for potions so he could help Steve get better and they need to be full, okay? And Buddy would make a sound or nod and be off. It was repetitive, but it wasn’t like Herobrine was doing anything else anyway.

He was honestly trying not to let negative thoughts spiral him into an even worse mental state, but the longer it took for Steve to wake up, the more he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something had to be wrong, or Steve would be awake by now. He was healed. He should be awake.

It was maddening not knowing the reason why. Herobrine considered every possibility—internal injuries, potion effects, even fucking witches for all he knew—but no matter what else might have happened, it all did nothing but remind him that he could have directly prevented this. He had no one to blame but himself.

Seven hours later, Steve finally made a sound. It was little more than a sigh but Herobrine was up and across the room in less than a second, leaning over his sleeping charge and searching for any sign of waking. Unlike the last time he’d been watching for it, Steve’s eyes were moving under their lids and his breathing was faster.

Then, finally, miraculously, Steve opened his eyes.

Herobrine held his breath, suddenly afraid. Would Steve blame him? Curse him and leave and never come back? He suddenly wanted Steve to go back to sleep, so he wouldn’t have to have that confrontation. Herobrine had spent all this time blaming himself, he hadn’t been considering that Steve would blame him too. Even when Steve had woken up on the way back and seemed relieved, Herobrine had his doubts.

Steve barely moved as he looked around, only tilting his head slightly when he caught sight of Herobrine. The small smile he gave was like a punch to the gut. He didn’t deserve that kind of smile.

“You’re...okay...” Steve’s voice was strained, as if talking was the hardest thing he could be doing. Herobrine frowned, wondering why Steve would bother worrying about him.

“Are you okay? How do you feel? Does anything hurt?”

Steve didn’t answer right away, and then his eyes closed again. Herobrine was going to have a heart attack at this rate.

“I’m...tired,” Steve said quietly.

Herobrine bit back his response of ‘how can you be tired after sleeping for ten hours,’ and instead let out a steady breath, leaning over to grab one of the half filled bottles of water. As long as Steve was awake, he might as well try to get the man to drink something.

“Drink this,” Herobrine insisted. When Steve opened his eyes again, Herobrine held the bottle in his line of sight. “It’s water.”

Steve seemed to brighten up a bit. “Water? Where...”

“Buddy’s been getting it. Complains the whole time though.”

He wouldn’t have heard Steve’s laugh if his hearing wasn’t as good as it was. Something was obviously wrong but Steve didn’t seem to be in pain, so that was a balm to his frayed nerves.

“Thank it...for...me...”

Steve tried to lift his hand to grab the bottle, but he was barely able to lift it off the mat before his entire arm was shaking. From the effort? Did it hurt? Herobrine didn’t know and it was unsettling—two regen potions should mean that Steve was fine, so where was this weakness coming from?

“Don’t strain yourself,” he said, putting his hand over Steve’s to force it back down. Steve didn’t fight him, instead his body went limp immediately, as if he couldn’t stand trying to move one second longer. “Here, let me help.”

A little hesitant, he slipped his arm behind Steve’s neck and effortlessly lifted the man into a sitting position, going slow just in case something happened. But Steve seemed fine, just really weak. Which was decidedly not fine, but one thing at a time.

Then, feeling supremely awkward, he helped Steve drink what was in the bottle, then the second and third bottles until he seemed satisfied.

“Thanks,” Steve said, managing to sit upright by himself though he swayed tellingly. Herobrine kept an eye on him as he set the last empty bottle on the desk with the others. He had the feeling Steve was going to pass out or something and was tense in anticipation, ready to jump to his aid.

“Are you okay?” He asked, weary of Steve’s swaying and the way Steve could barely keep his eyes open.

“Just...really tired.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t...know...why I’m so...so tired.” The longer he talked the more out of breath he seemed.

“Don’t worry about that now, just—rest.” He helped Steve lay back down. He didn’t really want Steve to go back to sleep, because it was either his company or his own damn thoughts, but at the same time he didn’t want Steve to ask him about what happened because he had literally no idea what to say. ‘I was distracted by those humans who told me something unbelievable?’ or maybe ‘I heard you and just ignored it?’ Yeah, not happening.

“Good...idea. Thank you.” Steve smiled again, like he meant it, and Herobrine had to force himself not to look away. He didn’t deserve it.

But before he could think of anything to say, Steve had already fallen back asleep. Herobrine watched him silently for several minutes, cataloguing all the ways this sleep was so different from the hours upon hours of unconsciousness. He moved, little twitches and turns that his body struggled to make while weak. He’d probably be a pain to sleep next to.

Once that thought caught up with him, Herobrine marched over to his chair and sat stiffly in it, face flaming. Better not to think about such things right now.

Some hours later, Herobrine was roused from a daze when Steve woke up again. He stood up and made his way over, swiping another bottle of water along the way and was pleasantly surprised when Steve was able to struggle his own way to sitting upright.

“How are you?” He asked, holding out the water. Steve gave him a tired smile and accepted the bottle with a hand that only shook half as much as before. Progress.

“I feel...like shit,” he said with a breathy laugh. He was struggling to uncork the bottle so Herobrine took it and uncorked it, then handed it back. “Thanks. I...I don’t know...why I feel...so weak.” Steve stared down into the bottle, his smile fading. He didn’t say anything else, apparently lost in thought.

“I’m not sure either,” he commented. Steve snapped out of his daze and looked up at him. Gods, he did not deserve to be looked at like that, not after what he’d done. He glanced away, fiddling with a loose string on the mat. “I gave you two regen potions so your wounds have healed, but you still seem pretty weak. I was worried there might have been some internal damage that the potions couldn’t or weren’t healing, but other than the weakness, you seem okay.” He drew his gaze back to Steve, peering seriously into his eyes. “Are you okay? For real?”

Steve nodded, placing his hand over the one picking at the string, and squeezed it gently. 

“Yes. I’m okay.” His mouth quirked up into a bit of a smile. “For real. I already feel...better than before.”

It was like a thousand anvils being lifted off his shoulders. Even with his major screw up, Steve was okay.

“I’m...really glad to hear that,” he admitted. “I’ve been worried.”

Steve’s small smile grew into something knowing. “I can tell. You look...like a nervous wreck.” He laughed to himself and finally started drinking the water while Herobrine crossed his arms and huffed.

“Well you would be too, if you had seen how bad you looked. I’m lucky I found those bottles of water in your bundle or you would be in far worse condition right now.”

Brows furrowed, Steve lowered the bottle. “Oh yeah...what happened...anyway?”

Herobrine’s heart was pounding suddenly. Shit, he still didn’t have an answer to this.

“Uh...why don’t you tell me what happened first.”

Raising a brow and clearly seeing his deflection for what it was, Steve nonetheless sighed and began, “Well, after you left with that man...”

Flashback; Herobrine’s POV

They appeared on the other side of the forest, where Herobrine knew the bastion remnant to be. He scanned the area, looking for a portal out of place—because he knew this area and he knew there was no portal here before—while the human next to him dropped to his knees and gagged.

“Oh Gods, please never again,” he was groaning, and Herobrine scowled down at him.

“Where’s your portal? And stop acting like a child, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Wasn’t that bad? It felt like my insides were being rearranged,” he complained, but stood up and got his composure back. “Ugh, it’s, uh...this way...I think.”

The last part was whispered but Herobrine heard it clearly. He glared.

“Just hurry up.”

They walked around for a several minutes before Herobrine realized he was either standing next to the dumbest human alive or the man was stalling.

“If you don’t lead me to your portal in the next minute, I am going to murder you,” Herobrine said, after walking past the same odd netherrack formation for the third time.

The human made a sound of distress. “I’m trying! I’m sorry, I don’t have a good memory.”

Herobrine was unimpressed. “If you want to live, you’ll start remembering.”

The human grimaced and looked around, muttering to himself. Herobrine’s internal count was at fifty seconds when the human exclaimed, “I got it! It’s over here.”

Begrugingly, Herobrine followed the human around the remnant, back to where the crimson forest was, until they did indeed find a Nether portal...a deactivated Nether portal, tucked away behind a small buildup of basalt alongside the remnant.

“Uh, that’s not supposed to be like that,” the human said, and Herobrine was barely holding his anger in.

“No shit,” Herobrine growled, immensely satisfied when the human gulped and shrunk away. “You better have a flint and steel.”

The human laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of his head. “Ah ha, well, you see...”

Herobrine sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. Oh, so this is why he hated humans. He’d forgotten since Steve was actually pleasant to be around.

“Can’t you light it? Don’t you have powers or...something...” The human trailed off when Herobrine looked up and glared at him.

“Were you stupid enough to come to the Nether without a flint and steel in case of this very thing happening?” He put as much disdain in his tone as he could, so the human would know just how much of an idiot Herobrine thought he was. The human at least had enough brains to look embarrassed.

“Well, technically no—“

In the next moment, Herobrine had the human pinned against the obsidian of the portal by a hand on his throat and had teleported a sword into his hand, leveling it at the human’s face. The visceral fear he saw in those green eyes only spurred him on. He used to live for this.

“I want you to stop giving me bullshit answers and tell me what you’re doing here. If the next thing that comes out of your mouth isn’t something I want to hear, I am going to kill you.”

The human was shaking like a leaf. He had the look of someone a second away from bursting into tears. Herobrine sneered at him, leaning forward a bit. 

“Pathetic.”

Just then, a distant roar had him snapping his head around. He had never heard a mob make a sound like that before. It was too far away to accurately pinpoint which direction it came from, but considering the situation, it was probably Steve’s direction.

Just thinking that made him uneasy and he let go of the human, dismissing his sword at the same time.

He stared into the trees, straining his hearing as it sounded like something was approaching them. Whatever had made that sound, maybe? It was definitely from Steve’s direction. His heart leapt to his throat. Was Steve okay? Damn, how long had he’d been gone?

The sound of trampling feet came closer and closer until the source came bursting out of the tree line. However, instead of some fearsome or mysterious mob, to his utter shock, two human girls ran out of the forest, heading right for them. They stopped several feet away.

One girl with blonde hair was panting to catch her breath. The other girl seemed fine and was, curiously, wearing a blindfold. And there was something about her that felt...familiar.

Even more curious was the fact that neither of them looked afraid to see him. Not the reaction he was used to.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” He said. Three humans at the same time? Suspicious to say the least.

The blindfolded woman looked at him silently for several moments before reaching behind her. Herobrine tensed but the woman only held up a flint and steel. Then she tossed it to the human who’d been giving Herobrine nothing but trouble for the last half hour or so.

“Light the portal,” she said, and then when the man didn’t immediately do it, “Now, Leon.”

Leon jumped and scrambled to strike the portal to life. When it did, that dreadful sense of wrongness starting creeping over him. He didn’t like being so close to active portals. Subconsciously, he stepped away from it a bit, enough to let the two girls circle their way slowly to the portal.

“I’m surprised to find you here,” the blindfolded woman said, standing in front of the portal now with her two companions behind her. “Everyone was sure you’d be long dead by now. Of course there were rumors of some kind of “white-eyed monster” living here but we couldn’t be sure. After all, no one had ever accomplished what you did so no one knew what to expect. But seeing you alive and in person...I can’t tell you what an experience this is. But I have to thank you.”

Herobrine wondered if his hearing was impaired, or if he was starting to go crazy, because this bitch was talking all kinds of nonsense. “What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you?”

She smiled and reached up to tug the blindfold down, revealing her completely white eyes.

Time stopped. There was a ringing in his ears. He was sure his mind was playing tricks on him.

“...What?” It was like his brain couldn’t process seeing what amounted to his own reflection. She had white eyes. Like him. That would mean... “How could...” How was it possible? And how did she come from the Overworld? And with two humans no less.

“Isn’t it obvious? You weren’t the only human interested in the Void, and after you were banished here, well, the Gods didn’t care about your research. It was collected and studied and eventually three wither skeleton heads were collected so a new Wither could be summoned. And it granted power to anyone who asked.”

“But—why didn’t the Gods put a stop to it?”

The pity on the woman’s face would have been infuriating if he didn’t feel like someone had just punched a hole through his heart.

“The Gods have not meddled in the Overworld’s affairs in almost 180 years.”

If that was true, that would mean the Wither lied.

“Herobrine!”

The yell was faint but he heard it clearly. Steve was calling for him. He didn’t sound good. Something was probably wrong.

“Herobr—“ Steve’s voice cut off. Nothing good could come of that. Steve could be in danger. He should go see what was going on.

But he didn’t move. He didn’t think he could even though he wanted to. He couldn’t even tear himself away from looking into the woman’s eyes. The implication of what he was realizing was disturbing. All this time left to rot in the Nether and it was all meaningless...?

The sound of distant screams and the woman talking could not be heard over the roaring in his ears. By the time the woman finally broke eye contact and dragged her two companions into the portal, Herobrine was on the verge of some kind of panic attack. He was breathing rapidly and his heart was pounding hard against his chest, almost painfully so. And underneath it all, a fearsome rage that threatened to burn him from the inside out.

All at once, he realized what was happening and gasped, genuine fear shooting down his spine, like ice in his veins. He teleported immediately, hoping he wasn’t too late—

The sight that greeted him instantly made him see red.

It was that mob he’d found outside of Steve’s portal. It had a sword lodged between its shoulder and neck and was leaning over a kneeling Steve, a dark purple glow emitting from its hands where they were grabbing Steve’s arms, right over where he knew the carvings to be. Steve himself seemed like he was unconscious and was only being kept upright by that thing’s grip. From this angle, Herobrine could see Steve’s back, the blue shirt now torn to shreds and saturated with blood.

Between one breath and the next, Herobrine closed the distance between him and Steve and had materialized a sword, already swinging it at the mob’s head. It was not brain-dead, as it had seemed in the fortress, and dodged out of the way with a hiss, releasing Steve in the process. Herobrine only spared a second to make sure Steve’s head didn’t slam painfully into the netherrack before he whipped around to find the mob trying to run.

Growling, he teleported in front of it and instead of swinging his own sword he grabbed the hilt of the sword embedded in its body and yanked down as hard as he could, throwing the sword to the side. The mob made a terrible noise as the blade cut through the upper part of its ribcage and sliced the skin and muscle clean through. Seeing its beating heart and stuttering lungs wasn’t enough—he wanted to see them splattered on the ground and ripped to pieces, crushed under his boot and then burned to ashes.

As the mob stumbled to get its footing, gasping wetly and weakly pawing at its open chest, Herobrine bared his teeth and reeled back to punch it as hard as he could. His fist made contact with the middle of its chest and he heard bone break and splinter, followed by a spray of black blood.

The force of his punch sent the mob flying back a few feet. It landed on its back with a satisfyingly wet thud, an arc of black blood around it.

He walked up to it, sneering at its pathetic gurgles and whimpers of pain. He pressed his boot into the indent his punch had made and ground down, smiling at the choked cry of pain it gave before more of that black goo oozed from its mouth and nose.

“You’re going to wish I killed you,” he snarled, grabbing the mob’s leg and dragging it over to a nearby lava pit. He had noticed the cuff with the broken chain. No matter. He had a different tactic in mind to keep it from escaping.

Without preamble, once at the edge of the lava pit, he grabbed the ankle with the cuff and dunked the foot into the lava.

The mob made an inhuman sound as its body jerked and shuddered from the pain, then its cry cut off as it unfortunately lost consciousness. Herobrine held the foot under longer before removing it. It was not a pretty sight—the bones were exposed and only held together by a mesh of melted flesh, muscle, and tendon. But Herobrone had no sympathy for the unconscious mob, teleporting them directly into the fortress’s dungeon and dropping the mobs foot in disgust. It still deserved far worse for—

Steve!

Panic cut through the red haze of rage as the danger passed and the adrenaline faded away. He teleported to Steve’s side in an instant.

Steve was sprawled out on the netherrack on his stomach. His breathing was labored and though unconscious, his expression pained. Beneath the tatter of his shirt, his back was covered in long gauges which were bleeding sluggishly. One of his arms was outstretched, his hand mere inches from the sword Herobrine had pulled from the mob. His other arm was tucked close to his body. Both arms were covered in even more scratches. Herobrine could barely see Steve’s skin through the smears of blood, and what little he could see appeared bruised.

He reached forward and then stopped, his hand hovering just over Steve’s shoulder. His hand was shaking.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

This was all his fault.

Swallowing down the guilt, he closed the distance, only to flinch when his hand made contact with Steve’s body and received a small shock in return.

“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself. Bewildered, he hesitantly touched Steve’s shoulder again and when nothing happened, gingerly turned the man onto his side. The arm he’d subconsciously tucked close to his body fell to the ground. Aside from the angry cuts, the wrist was swollen and dark with bruises. The sight of them made Herobrine want to do inhumane things to that mob. He hadn’t felt the desire to torture anyone for over a century but the impulse to do it now was strong.

But Steve needed help, so he reeled in the anger. They needed to get to the fortress, he needed to make more mushroom soup potions, he needed to clean and bandage the wounds, he needed—he needed to make sure Steve was going to be okay.

This time when he laid his hand on Steve’s shoulder, it was with the intent to teleport. His power spiked and he thought of his room, expecting the two of them to appear there, but nothing happened.

“What?” He said in confusion, pulling his hand back to stare down at it. Was something wrong with his powers? He teleported the sword lying nearby into his hand. It came easily, and everything felt normal. He threw the sword away and laid his hand on Steve’s shoulder again, then tried teleporting the sword back into his hand. Nothing. The buildup of power was there, but it was like something was blocking his powers from fully working.

He looked down at Steve.

Well—shit.

Guess he was going to have to do this the hard way.

Carefully and awkwardly maneuvering Steve onto his back took a few minutes too long in Herobrine’s opinion, but soon he started the trek back. The anger, the guilt, the confusion—he pushed it all aside. None of that mattered right now.

The only thing that mattered was making sure Steve was going to be okay.

Chapter Text

“Does this change anything?” Mirai asked, as soon as they appeared in the Overworld.

“Yes and no,” Adelaide answered. As soon as all three of them were clear, she punch the obsidian frame of the portal, breaking and deactivating it in the process. “I don’t think our mission will change but Herobrine being alive and unpredictable will obviously complicate things.”

“Did you know he would be there?” She shook her head, reaching up to readjust her blindfold.

“Juneau suspected that he might be alive, but he never knew for sure. But there’s only one person with white eyes stuck in the Nether so it makes sense.”

“Well a little warning would have been appreciated!” Leon complained, rubbing at his neck. “He was gonna kill me!”

“Oh, hush,” Adelaide chided. “You volunteered for this mission.”

Leon gawked at her. “Yeah! Before I knew Herobrine was going to be involved! I didn’t sign up for that!”

“Aw, are you scared?” Mirai taunted, and Leon stuck his tongue out at her.

“Children, enough,” Adelaide cut in, amusement in her tone. “I’m sure Juneau will have me handle Herobrine. He might even want to do it himself.”

Mirai scoffed. “You mean he’ll leave his dungeon for once? I doubt it.”

Adelaide put one hand on Mirai’s shoulder and one on Leon’s shoulder. “We’ll see. We have to report back what we discovered first. Are you two ready?”

They both nodded, and Adelaide focused on their destination and teleported the three of them away.

After Herobrine was finished explaining his side of things, there was silence in the room.

Steve didn’t know what to think. Adelaide was like Herobrine? How was that possible? He had never heard of another person with white eyes in the Overworld. Granted, he didn’t hang around others enough to hear any such rumors, but still. Surely Alex—and how it hurt to think about her—would have mentioned something, especially considering he had asked her about Herobrine not too long ago.

Given his weakness and how long his own and then Herobrine’s recount was, he had laid down on the mat to listen and was currently staring at the ceiling, absentmindedly picking at the new bandages around his arms. He was not happy to learn of the carvings becoming brands. They had been bad enough as is, now they itched and stung every time he shifted or the wounds pressed against the bandage.

He was happy to learn that Herobrine had asked Buddy to retrieve his discarded armor at some point, which sat propped up against the wall. And Herobrine had removed the pieces he still had on him, so the complete set was there and intact. 

But neither the brands nor the armor was the most pressing issue. After everything that had happened, there was only one question on his mind.

He turned his head to look at Herobrine. “What are we going to do now?”

Herobrine—who had been sitting in a chair beside him with his face in his hands for a while now—sighed heavily and finally looked up.

“We have options, but I think the first thing we need to do is leave the Nether.” He at least sounded confident, which was enough to put Steve at ease, but—

Wait.

Surprise flashed across his face as he turned a little more to look at Herobrine better. “Wait, we?”

Herobrine nodded. “Yeah, I don’t want to stay here if I don’t absolutely have to. I was only here in the first place because I was...” He paused, his face conveying a series of emotions before settling on defeated. “I was afraid of what the Aether would do if I left,” he admitted, looking down and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I was afraid and the Wither only fueled that. But...if Adelaide can exist, if more than just her can exist in the Overworld, then I shouldn’t have anything to fear.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to console Herobrine, but he did agree that getting out of the Nether sounded amazing. It probably wouldn’t be easy, but his life rarely ever was.

“Then that’s the plan,” He said with conviction. “Let’s leave.”

Herobrine gave a dry laugh, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I doubt the Wither is going to let me just waltz right out of the Nether.”

Steve didn’t know much about the Wither, only what Herobrine had told him, but he did know that it was behind the whispers that he’d heard numerous times and he definitely didn’t want to meet it based solely on that. He was still a little miffed that something as ancient and powerful like the Wither would want to meet him at all.

“What do you think it’ll do?”

Herobrine shrugged. “Best case scenario it sends its skeletons after us. They are relatively easy for me to fight off and even if the Wither overrides my ability to command them, it still wouldn’t amount to much of a difference.” Herobrine paused, pursing his lips. “Well, unless it takes over their will entirely. That might be a problem.”

Steve was almost afraid to ask. “And the worst case scenario?”

Herobrine grimaced. “The Wither comes after us itself.”

“Is that...likely?”

“I honestly don’t know. I haven’t seen it move in decades. I always assumed it was conserving energy or something like that.” He shrugged again.

“On a scale of one to ten—“

“Fucked,” Herobrine said immediately and with a completely straight face. “One hundred percent fucked.”

Steve smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Great! So that just not needs to happen.”

Herobrine snorted. “Yeah well, with our luck, it’s probably going to.”

Steve’s smile dimmed a little. He didn’t like their situation but like Herobrine said, their first step really should be to leave the Nether. Adelaide and the others already knew he was here, and he couldn’t stay indefinitely, as appealing as it sounded. Well, the oppressing heat and lack of basic human commodities wasn’t great but the isolation from humanity was tempting.

With a sudden poof of purple sparks, Buddy appeared in the room. Steve jumped a bit but Herobrine remained unfazed, only turning his head to look at the enderman. He was frowning at Buddy, but Steve was thrilled to see the enderman.

“You were gone a lot longer that time,” he commented. “Something happen?”

Buddy said something, a series of trills and warbles that Steve wished he could understand, but whatever the enderman said wasn’t good based on Herobrine’s reaction.

“What!?” Herobrine said loudly, standing up fast enough that the chair was knocked over. “When?”

Buddy made more noises and pointed at the wall, and Herobrine made a frustrated sound that was also a little hysterical, in Steve’s opinion.

“What?” Steve asked, struggling to push himself into a sitting position. He was getting better as time passed but it was slow going. “What is it?”

“Hold on, I have to go check something. Should only take me a second.” Herobrine disappeared without another word and Steve totally didn’t pout as he looked at Buddy.

A moment passed before Buddy held out a bottle barely half filled with water. Steve took it with an appreciative smile. “Thanks Buddy. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Buddy warbled at him as he uncapped the bottle and drank down the water. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing.

Steve was debating on whether he should try to get up to place the bottle on the table himself or just ask Buddy to do it when, true to his word, Herobrine reappeared after not too long. Steve was going to make a joke along the lines of how their situation couldn’t have possibly gotten worse but the look on Herobrine’s face stopped him.

“What is it?”

“The portal’s deactivated.”

Steve blinked. He had not been expecting that. “It is? When did that happen?”

Without looking, Herobrine righted the chair and slowly sat on it. He kept his distant gaze straight ahead, at the wall.

“I dont know. But the other portals are deactivate as well.”

Steve didn’t like the way Herobrine was behaving. Was it so bad that the portal was deactivated? They just needed to light it again. “What other portals?”

“There are a few relatively close by. Sometimes they’re active. But all of them are off.”

“And that’s bad why? Can’t you just light them again?”

Herobrine finally looked at him, though his expression was an interesting mix between incredulity and pain. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Was Steve missing something here? “You don’t have a flint and steel?”

“No? Why would I?”

“Well—in case...uh...” Oh. He supposed it wouldn’t make sense for Herobrine to own one if he never needed to use it. But surely he had some way to light a portal. “Doesn’t it just need fire?”

It was hard to tell, but he was pretty sure Herobrine rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, let me just tear down the portal and build it next to some fire. That definitely won’t get the Wither’s attention.” Okay, he could really do without the sarcasm.

“But can’t you—“

“Conjure fire? Yes. But if the Aether had seen fit to trap me here, obviously they would think to make it hard for me to escape. If I try to light the portal using my powers, nothing happens. I need a flint and steel, same as anyone else.”

“Oh.” Well—shit. Then they were kinda in a bad situation here. Well, a worse situation. Because of course they were. “Now what?”

“There’s only one place we can go to get the iron we need, and thats to the bastion remnant.” Herobrine sagged in the chair, scrubbing at his face. “I just don’t want to have to do this.”

“Do what, exactly?” Steve was at least trying to keep a positive outlook on things. One of them was already struggling not to have a breakdown, they didn’t both need to be out of commission. His could come later—he was sure bottling up all of his negative emotions and shoving them aside for later was healthy and totally fine.

“I have to trade with the piglins, but they can be stingy if they know they have something I actually want. Dealing with them is a pain but it’s unavoidable at this point.” Herobrine’s voice was slightly muffled as his face was pressed into his palms, but then he looked up at steve with a frown. “Not to mention, I don’t want you to come with me but I also don’t want to leave you here. So there’s that.”

Steve bit his lip. He felt the same way, only opposite. He wanted to go, but at the same time, the thought of moving around that much was unpleasant. He could sit up and probably walk around, but after only a few minutes he would get too tired to continue. So there was really only one course of action that would make sense.

“I think I should stay here,” he decided, even though it left a bad taste in his mouth. “It makes the most sense.”

Herobrine made a noise of displeasure and stood up. “I’ll think about it. In the mean time, you try to rest, just in case we need to run or something. I wouldn’t put it past the Wither just to attack out of nowhere, especially once it catches wind of our plans.”

Steve didn’t feel particularly tired but he nodded anyway. After all, the longer be went without moving the better he felt in the end. He just needed time to regain his strength after what had happened. This was a perfect opportunity—the supposed calm before the storm.

“I’ll try.”

“Good. I’ll come back in a bit.” Herobrine made to leave but Buddy stopped him with a loud cry. Herobrine looked at the enderman as it told him something.

“Buddy wants you to know it’s glad you’re okay. And that it’s sorry it can’t fill the bottles up more,” Herobrine translated. Steve felt a rush of affection sweep through him as he looked up at Buddy.

“It’s okay Buddy, I know you tried your best. And it really helped me too, so thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” He offered a genuine smile to the enderman. It was hard to tell emotion on an enderman’s face, but the mob seemed a little bashful as it looked down and swung its arms around.

But Steve meant what he had said and he wanted Buddy to understand that he truly did appreciate all the help it’s been. Buddy had saved his life multiple times. He was lucky to have the mob in his life.

Lucky to have both of them, he thought, gaze sliding over to Herobrine. He was still at the door watching them with an expression that was hard for Steve to read.

“Come on Buddy, let’s give him a chance to rest,” Herobrine said, holding the door open and gesturing to it. Buddy trilled something at him then simply teleported away. Herobrine sighed and shot him a tired smile. “I’ll be back later.”

“Okay.”

To his credit be really did try to sleep, but he was too wired. All the information he’d learned and what he’d been through and what they still needed to do—it was a lot to process. He found that his mind would not quiet long enough to let him rest. He laid on the cot and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought and waiting for sleep to claim him.

He must have drifted off at some point because the next thing he knew he was opening his eyes to darkness, feeling somewhat rested. The remnants of his dream still played through his mind, flashes of Adelaide smacking Herobrine across the face with a fish, Mirai losing a board game, turning into a squid, and flying away, and Alex and Blake dancing to no music. He was mildly unhappy to have such a carefree dream involving people trying to kill him, and even seeing Blake in his dream had him waking up unsettled.

He looked around and realized very quickly that he wasn’t in the same room he’d fallen asleep in. In fact, he wasn’t even in a room anymore.

He was laying on nothing, surrounded by darkness.

His heart rate skyrocketed as he jolted up, looking for anything within the inky dark around him.

Afraid of the dark?

The voice was chilling, wispy and distant and a thousand voices in one, which an amused lilt. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Who’s there!” He called out, stumbling to his feet. It was easier than he expected. His weakness was gone.

As he looked around, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there were a thousand eyes staring at him from every direction. But all he could see was darkness.

“Hello?” He called out again. Was it worse to be alone in this situation, or to have an unknown companion? Both possibilities filled him with an equal amount of anxiety.

For a human, you have continued to surprise me. Not such an easy feat.

The voice came from far away and directly next to him, making him flinch. But when he whipped around to look, there was no one there.

“Who are you? What do you want!”

What I want is beyond your limited capabilities of understanding. Although, at the moment, I would like to meet you. Herobrine has seen fit to keep you away from me and I grow tired of waiting. Your presence here has made him grow...bold, shall we say.

For a moment Steve was confused, but then he recalled what Herobrine had said about the whispers he’d heard. That it was the Wither. That it wanted to meet him.

“Are you...the Wither?”

Very astute observation. So I see Herobrine has mentioned me. I’m honored.

Steve couldn’t help but feel agitated at the Wither’s obvious sarcasm. Even with a completely even tone, he could tell that the Wither was mocking him.

“Yeah he mentioned you,” Steve retorted with far more bravado than was smart. “When I said there were creepy whispers around the Nether, he instantly knew it was you. No surprise there.” What the fuck are you doing idiot! He thought to himself. His heart was still beating fast, almost painfully so as he stood there and waited for something to happen, for his words to incite a reaction. The Wither didn’t seem like the type of entity to appreciate backtalk, but he wasn’t going to just stand there and cower.

His hunch was correct when he felt the temperature drop. The darkness became more like a crushing weight, pressing in on all sides, but...other than that, nothing happened.

Because he was still dreaming.

I would not be so quick to have attitude with me, boy. You can ask Herobrine yourself what happens to those who defy me.

The words were sharper, the myriad of voices angrier now that Steve had foregone scared for defiant.

“If you want to meet me, why jump through all these hoops? Why not just come find me?”

I don’t need to explain myself to you. This method will suffice, now that it’s possible.

A snarky response was on the tip of his tongue but the words died when he realized what the Wither said. “What do you mean?”

Perhaps if you had shown the proper respect I would be inclined to answer that, but it seems, just as you have been a poor influence on Herobrine, his occasional insubordination has rubbed off on you. I will leave you to ponder what I meant. And yes, you should be afraid.

There was a loud scream as the darkness condensed around him, crushing and suffocating—

He woke with a gasp, jolting on the mat. His breathing was far too fast, making him feel light headed. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but there was no one in the room with him.

He waited before getting up, focusing only on slowing his breathing and letting his heart calm. When he felt relatively back to normal he tried sitting up. It went much smoother than he was expecting and he was able to sit without hindrance. Just to see how far he could go, he stood and walked the few feet to the desk where some bottles were still filled a bit with water. There were only three, each filled about a third with water, but it was better than nothing. Steve drank the water down quickly, standing in place the whole time. When he was done he remained standing, just to test his strength. So far so good. He could feel a slow, creeping weakness in his legs but it didn’t feel as all-encompassing as before.

Maybe accompanying Herobrine to the bastion remnant wouldn’t be such a chore after all. After whatever the hell kinda dream that was, Steve was far less inclined to remain in the fortress, weakness or not.

Just as he was about to hop back onto the mat, there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” He called, and the door opened to reveal Herobrine, holding one of those mushroom regen potions.

“You’re up,” Herobrine commented, a hint of surprise in his tone. Instead of hopping onto the mat, Steve turned around to lean against it. He still felt pretty good. It was too early to label it ‘back to normal,’ but Steve never minded rushing into things. “How are you feeling?”

“So far so good. I’ve only been up for a few minutes but I was able to sit up, stand, and walk a bit without feeling like I was about to keel over, so that’s an improvement.”

“Definitely. I’m glad to hear that.” He set the potion on the desk. “In case you feel hungry,” he added. Steve nodded. “I’ve also decided that you’re right—it would be better for you to stay here.”

Steve winced. “Yeah, about that...”

“What? What happened?” Poor Herobrine. Steve felt bad about what he was about to say. The guy was under enough stress as it was. 

“Well...I’m pretty sure the Wither talked to me in my dream just now.”

Herobrine stared at him. “What.”

“I was dreaming and then I thought I woke up, but I was just in another dream. And I could hear a voice talking to me. I figured it was the Wither.”

“Fuck.” Herobrine sat down on the chair still by the mat. “What did it say?”

“Just that it wanted to meet me and that it was tired of you keeping me away from it. And that it thinks I’m a bad influence on you.”

“You’re a bad influence on me?” He said incredulously, with the barest hint of a smile. “That’s rich.”

Steve smiled. “Well, it did make sure to point out that my backtalking was likely your influence.”

Steve could tell that Herobrine had a lot going on in his head as this news clearly bothered him, so he did feel bad when the small amount of amusement on Herobrine’s face instantly dropped off. “You talked back to it?”

“I couldn’t help myself.”

Herobrine groaned and leaned forward in the chair, supporting his arms on his knees. “Fuck.”

After a few quiet moments, Herobrine took a deep breath and seemed to pull himself together. He stood up and started pacing.

“Okay. Okay well obviously I’m not going to leave you here, even if Buddy stayed there’s no way in hell I’m going to let the Wither have any opportunity to drag you down to it. So you’re coming with me to the bastion remnant, and then we’re getting the fuck out of the Nether.”

Steve was mildly alarmed to hear that, mostly because it was so soon. He felt like there was so much they needed to do but...there really wasn’t. “Just like that?”

Herobrine stopped his pacing to give him an odd look. “Uh, yeah. What do you mean? We agreed that we need to leave.”

“No, I get that, but...isn’t this your home? You’re just gonna leave it?”

Herobrine sighed, walking over to the table to pick up the mushroom regen potion. He stared at it for a moment before replying, gaze still fixed on the bottle, “It was never supposed to be a home, but...I said my goodbye.” Herobrine looked up and handed the potion to him, which he took. “While you were resting I packed everything I cared to take and left it by your portal. All we have to do now is light it.”

Steve turned the potion over in his hands, staring at its strange maroon color. He was still a little upset—though he wasn’t sure why—at the idea that Herobrine was going to leave this place behind, seemingly on a whim. But if he’d made his peace with it, then it didn’t concern Steve.

“I think a more important question is if you’re ready,” Herobrine said, and when Steve looked up with a questioning expression, and Herobrine elaborated, “Are you ready to leave your home and everything you own behind?”

“Oh, yeah definitely.”

Herobrine raised a brow and Steve couldn’t help but smile. “I’m pretty used to that actually. I only live in one spot for a year or two, less if I get chased out.” He shrugged. He was used to it. “I don’t know, I just get bored of my surroundings every once in a while and pack up my stuff to find a new biome. I’ve really only been at my current place for as long as I have because I met...someone, who was actually nice to me for once.” He sighed. “But then I found out that she gave away where I was in the first place which lead to all this so, I really don’t have a reason to stay.”

“That’s...pretty fucked up actually, not gonna lie. I can’t believe you have a worse living situation than I do.”

Steve laughed a bit at that. “Get used to it buddy, I’m a bonafide trouble magnet.”

Herobrine rolled his eyes but his small smile gave away his amusement. “Yeah, no shit. Speaking of trouble, there’s one thing I haven’t mentioned yet. You know how I can do this?” He held out his hand and in a dazzle of purple sparks, into it appeared a regular iron sword.

Steve nodded, and Herobrine teleported the sword away. Then, he reached forward and put his hand on Steve’s upper arm. “Now watch.”

He lifted his hand but nothing happened. Steve watched in confusion, wondering what he was supposed to see. “I don’t get it.”

“I can’t make it appear again.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m touching you.”

“Because—wait, what?” Steve looked at Herobrine’s outstretched hand, then the hand on his own arm, then Herobrine’s face, then the outstretched hand again. “When did this become a thing?”

“When I rescued you,” Herobrine answered, lifting his hand away. “I have no idea why it’s happening.”

“That’s—shit, that’s really not good, is it?” Teleportation was an incredibly handy ability to have, regardless of how Steve felt about it personally. It was especially handy in many situations Steve found himself in, most of which involved danger. They would have to be careful from now on, if Herobrine couldn’t teleport him out of harm’s way.

“No, it’s not. Which is why I’m even more pissed that the Wither is forcing our hand like this.”

“What...what about Buddy?” Steve inquired. Herobrine looked like he was about to say something rude, but then his expression shifted to contemplative.

“That’s not a bad idea actually. I mean, I would assume that if my powers didn’t work then an enderman’s wouldn’t either, but now that I’m thinking about it, you might be onto something.”

“But is it nearby? Can you like, call it or something?”

Herobrine smirked. “Or something.”

He didn’t say anything after that, or for the next several seconds, which stretched on and on until Steve was sure at least five minutes had passed but it was probably only one. He was about to say something when Buddy suddenly appeared in the room. It looked at him and gave, what Steve took as, a happy cry.

“Try to teleport while touching him,” Herobrine said without greeting. Buddy looked between them then came to stand next to Steve. It warbled at Herobrine who gestured vaguely to the other side of the room. “I don’t know, just over there or something.”

Buddy’s cold, clammy hand enclosed around his arm and he shuddered at the feel of it despite himself. He was so distracted by the sensation that he wasn’t at all ready when Buddy teleported them across the room, partially because he didn’t think it would actually work. He swayed slightly at the rush but was kept up by Buddy’s grip. He swallowed heavily to force the nausea back down.

“At least that works,” Herobrine said, and he sounded relieved. Steve felt the same way.

“Hey, for once something’s going our way.”

“Don’t speak too soon—we still have to deal with the piglins.”

Steve grimaced. “I’m not looking forward to this at all.”

“Me neither. Let’s go.”

Steve was given enough time to secure his bundle—which he was glad to learn also survived the attack—to his hip before they were off. He had briefly lamented his armor, which he decided not to wear in the case that it slowed him down. He already felt like he was holding on by a string, he didn’t need weights on his shoulders and legs to add to that. Herobrine assured him that just because they were leaving the Nether didn’t mean they had to leave the armor. When Steve needed it, they could always ask Buddy to retrieve it. That put his mind at ease a bit. As least he still had all four pieces.

Now that they knew Buddy could teleport him seemingly with no effort, Herobrine lead the way to the bastion remnant, letting Buddy teleport him over any large gaps or lava lakes to take the most direct route. They passed by the clearing where he had been attacked by that mob and he was glad it was hard to see blood on netherrack. Just being in the area unsettled him.

Herobrine lead the way through the crimson forest until they reached the other side. The sheer size of the structure that came into view was awe-inspiring.

“Wow,” he commented, eyes wide. “It’s huge!”

“Yep. As much as they’re rage filled little monsters, piglins are nothing if not efficient.”

The bastion remnant was a large black structure built into the netherrack. But just the parts exposed spoke to its size. Steve didn’t think he’d ever seen such a building before. Not even the nether fortress compared to it, in his opinion.

They stood there for a few precious seconds, partially to let Steve take in the sight and partially to let his legs rest. The walking and teleporting was a little taxing on his body, but he still felt okay. Not great, not one hundred percent, but okay. Enough to continue.

“So what’s the plan?” He asked. Herobrine was standing at his side, Buddy on the opposite. Unlike Steve’s expression of wonder, Herobrine looked anything but happy.

“We go in and you don’t touch anything, you don’t say anything, in fact don’t even look at anything,” Herobrine supplied unhelpfully. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Gee, great advice. Anything else?”

Herobrine took a deep breath. He didn’t look ready to do this, perfectly expressing how Steve felt. Though, the thought of exploring something new was making him feel revitalized.

“Just—stay close. And wear this.”

Steve blinked, looking over to see Herobrine holding out a gold bracer. “A bracer?” He asked, taking it. It was nothing special—a simple gold bracer that he slipped over his right arm and tightened into place. As simple as it was, it was shiny and new. He wondered if it was ever used and how Herobrine acquired it.

“Remember, piglins will instantly attack anyone not wearing gold. And please, don’t open any chests, no matter how tempting it is. They will flip the fuck out on you, got it?”

“Got it. Hey.” He grabbed Herobrine’s arm as the man took a step, halting him in his tracks. He waited until Herorbine looked back at him to speak. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get this iron and then we’re leaving the Nether.” He smiled. “Right?”

Herobrine searched his face. Steve didn’t know what he was looking for but he must have found it because he nodded. He didn’t return the smile, but it was enough. “Right.”

Herobrine lead the way to the side of the bastion, where a large archway was carved out of the stone. Steve let his hand trail over the rough, unusual stone as they passed through the arch and into the bastion. He didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. Efficient they may be, clearly piglins didn’t have much of an eye for interior decorating. The entire inside of the remnant seemed to be made of the same black stone.

“What is this?” Steve said, keeping his hand on the stone until Herobrine looked at him to know what he was talking about.

“It’s called blackstone. It’s cobblestone that’s been saturated in an abundance of ash, turning it black.”

Steve looked at his fingers and there was indeed an ashy residue on them, like dust. “Huh. Not a very creative name.”

“Eh. It gets the job done.”

Steve continued observing their surroundings. They were in a narrow hallway made from blackstone and another rock Steve had never seen before. It was gray and when they walked past some, Steve touched it to find it had an extremely smooth texture.

“What about this one?”

“That’s basalt. It’s formed by cooling lava.”

“Huh. It’s so smooth.”

“And weak. It’s not very good for building sturdy structures.”

Steve made a considering sound, then let the subject drop. He wondered what else the Nether had to offer. He wished they didn’t have to leave it, he felt like he was only scratching the surface of it.

The only sound after that were distant wails that the Nether always seemed to have, and their footsteps. Steve glanced behind him and was surprised to see Buddy trailing after them. The enderman usually left them or made itself scarce until it saw fit to help them. When it noticed his gaze, it opened its mouth slightly and made a short, higher pitched noise. Steve smiled at it.

The hallway they were in wasn’t huge, but he expected to see at least one piglin. He still had not seen much of them and was curious despite the many times Herobrine had warned him against them.

“Why aren’t there any piglins around?” He said quietly. It was so silent and still around them, he was unwilling to break the silence.

“They like to inhabit the center of the bastion,” Herobrine answered. “You might see a baby piglin running around in the halls but we should be left alone for the most part.”

“‘Baby piglins?’” Steve shuddered. “Are they anything like baby zombies?”

“Surprisingly, no. They’re friendly to a certain extent. More afraid than anything.”

“Huh.” That was surprising. “Even though adult piglins are as aggressive as you say?”

“Well, that’s what growing up in the Nether does.”

Steve chuckled. “I guess that’s true.”

Buddy said something then, and Herobrine made a noise of agreement. “True. No wonder enderman are so fucked up.” He smirked back at Buddy, who made a loud, affronted sound.

“Buddy said you should try living in the End,” Herobrine clued him in on. “And it’s got a point too, that would fuck up even the most well-adjusted individual.”

“The End?”

Herobrine actually stopped and looked at him with an inscrutable expression that made Steve feel dumb. Herobrine was really good at that. But even Buddy had stopped and was looking him intensely.

“What?” He said, slightly defensive, feeling his cheeks pink. Herobrine just shook his head and continued on.

They climbed a series of staircases until they reached a large open room stuffed full with bridges. They had emerged from the stairwell on a narrow path along the outskirts of the room, and Steve leaned over the edge to look down with wide eyes.

“Wow, that’s...a pretty big drop.” He retreated from the edge. Knowing his luck, better to stay back.

“They made it as hard as they could to get to the treasure at the bottom,” Herobrine told him, and that piqued Steve’s interest.

“Treasure?”

Herobrine gave him a flat look. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Well I mean...nothing wrong with thinking about it...” He peaked over the edge again, trying to see what treasure might be down there, but Herobrine tugged on his arm to get him away from it.

“Do I even need to say it?” Herobrine said, and Steve rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Yeah yeah, my luck and all. Point taken.”

They walked around the sides of the room on the walkway until they reached another staircase, this one leading down. All things considered, he was feeling pretty okay. Tired, but only just so. He didn’t feel like he needed to stop and rest at all, but he could feel that the muscles in his legs were burning like he’d just hiked up a mountain, which was uncomfortable but ignorable. He just focused on keeping his gaze cast down as he walked—the floor was littered with holes and any misstep would only hinder them. He wouldn’t put it past the universe to see fit to make him sprain his ankle or something. It would be the last thing they needed.

He was so focused on watching his step that he missed when Herobrine stopped and smacked right into his back. Herobrine didn’t react, only put an arm out to keep him back. Steve lifted himself onto his tip-toes to see over Herobrine’s shoulder at what had stopped them.

There were two piglins in their path, one holding a crossbow and one with a sheathed sword. The one with the sword snarled at them and gestured between them, then up, presumably at Buddy. Steve assumed it was talking but it was even more indistinguishable than Buddy’s speech.

Herobrine teleported a gold ingot into his hand, waving it at the piglins. At the sight of the gold, the piglins’ behavior instantly changed. The crossbow was lowered and both piglins made much softer sounds. Steve imagined them trying to convince Herobrine to give up the gold.

“I need an iron ingot,” Herobrine said, cutting off their noises. “There’s a lot more where this comes from if I get one.”

Steve kept flitting his eyes between the two piglins, then looked down when there was movement coming towards them. It was a baby piglin, cautiously approaching them from the side. It’s gaze was fixed on the gold ingot in Herobrine’s hand.

Curiously, when the baby piglin reached them, it lifted its arms up, making grabby hands at the gold. Steve couldn’t help but think about how cute it was. They were much more like actual children than baby zombies, which was a massive relief.

Much to Steve’s surprise, Herobrine lowered his arm and handed the gold ingot to the baby piglin. It squealed happily and ran back to the adults, showing off the gold with happy little oinks. The piglins returned the cheerful oinks and looked back up expectantly, antsy about getting gold for themselves. Herobrine summoned another gold ingot, waving it tauntingly at them.

“Well?” He asked impatiently.

The piglins snarled, then turned to each other, debating in furious oinks and grunts. Steve looked to the side, feeling watched. Across the large hole in the center of the room, there was a much larger piglin holding an axe and staring right at them. It narrowed its gaze when it noticed him looking at it. He gulped and looked away, pretending to ignore it.

He drew his gaze back to the matter at hand when the piglin with the sword gestured in a wide arc, oinking excitedly. The crossbow piglin nodded along with its companion’s statement.

“What are they saying?” Steve whispered. He was still peaking at them over Herobrine’s shoulder, so he was able to easily hear Herobrine’s agitated sigh.

“They want one gold ingot for every piglin in the bastion,” Herobrine explained, souding extremely annoyed. “Including the babies.”

Steve blanched. “All that for one iron ingot?” He asked in disbelief.

Herobrine snorted and turned his head a bit to glance at him. “I told you they could be stingy.”

The two piglins made the same sound at the same time, the one with the sword gesturing in a ‘come hither’ motion. Herobrine tossed the gold ingot to the piglin. It caught it midair and made a happy noise, like a coo, cradling the gold close to its chest. The crossbow piglin gestured between it and Herobrine.

In response, Herobrine held out his hand and between them and the piglins appeared a pile of gold ingots, more than Steve thought he’d ever seen in one place. It was a dazzling display and he felt kinda bad that it was all just for one iron ingot. He’s sure no one in their right mind would ever agree to pay that much for a measly piece of iron. These piglins were lucky he and Herobrine were in a hurry.

“The iron?” Herobrine demanded, holding out his hand, palm up. The two piglins were practically salivating over the pile, and Steve could spot several more piglins looking in their direction, some making their way over to get a share of the gold.

The sword piglin grunted in an abrasive manner and pulled an iron ingot from the pouch on its hip, handing it to the baby piglin. The baby ran over to them and practically shoved the iron into Herobrine’s hand, quick to return to the gold pile. The other piglins Steve had seen were arriving to it as well, all condensing around the pile.

Herobrine started backing up, forcing Steve and Buddy to as well. “Let’s leave before they change their mind and demand more,” Herobrine said quietly. “We can find the flint we need in the gravel outside the bastion.” That sounded great to Steve. He was still optimistic that nothing would actually happen, especially concerning his weakness, but that didn’t mean he was willing to push it.

They made their way out of the bastion. Herobrine rooted around a large pile of gravel until he found a sufficiently sized piece of flint, then handed both the flint and iron ingot to Steve.

“Hold onto those, just in case I need my hands free.”

“Do you think the Wither will actually have, like, an ambush waiting or something?” He asked, accepting the iron and flint and storing it in his bundle.

Herobrine made a sour face, then starting walking back to the crimson forest. “Getting the iron from the piglins was too easy. The Wither has to know what we’re up to, it can see through its skeleton’s eyes and they report everything they hear back to it. Sometimes I feel like I can’t even sneeze without the Wither knowing about it, so yeah, I’m expecting something.”

Steve sighed. “Of course they do. So what’s the plan, exactly?”

Herobrine hummed, but didn’t answer. He reached the edge of the forest and stopped.

“Wait. Wait, I can’t believe I forgot about this portal!” Herobrine turned around and started heading to the bastion again. Confused, Steve followed behind.

“What portal? Where are you going?” He asked to no avail, because Herobrine didn’t answer. He just walked over to a large mound of basalt built up beside the bastion.

Herobrine reached it but jerked back with a curse, nearly knocking into Steve who was rushing to keep up with him. The tell tale sound of bones rattling clued him in on what was wrong.

A regular skeleton stepped into view, arrow already nocked and drawn. As soon as it was able to, it loosed the arrow. The arrow sailed between Herobrine and Steve to head straight for Buddy. On instinct, the enderman teleported out of harm’s way.

And away from Steve.

Three wither skeletons emerged from the basalt. Two wasted no time engaging Herobrine, swinging their swords in alternating downward arcs. Herobrine cursed and summoned a sword to counter, casting Steve a panicked look because the third wither skeleton charged directly for him.

He was frozen, unsure what to do. He had no armor, he wasn’t even equipped with a sword, and his body wouldn’t follow any of his commands to move. The wither skeleton raised its sword and brought it down, but Herobrine was there to block it for him, pushing the skeleton away.

“Stay close to me,” Herobrine urged, holding the sword in front of him to ward off the wither skeletons. The regular skeleton was still where it had appeared, arrow nocked and drawn but hesitating to loose. It was showing restraint the likes of which Steve had never seen from a skeleton before. The fact that it was waiting for Buddy to appear was a horrible development.

The wither skeletons attacked, one of them focusing on Herobrine and the one trying to slip past his defenses to get to Steve. The third switched between attacking and trying to get to him. It split Herobrine’s focus enough that one of the wither skeletons managed to drag its sword across his arm. It was a small cut but it was a cut. Steve knew they had to do something else—Herobrine was more than capable enough to fight three wither skeletons and win soundly, but his priority in keeping Steve safe was hindering him.

Steve did his best to follow Herobrine’s directions. When Herobrine stepped back, so did Steve. When he stepped forward, Steve did as well, trying to keep as close as he could without getting in the way. But whichever wither skeleton wasn’t attacking Herobrine directly was trying to get passed him, which was only resulting in Herobrine’s growing frustration and a myriad of cuts along his body.

“Give me a sword!” He suggested, grunting when Herobrine grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to duck a dual attack by two of the wither skeletons, then bodily shoved him back to create space between them and their adversaries. “I can hold my own for a bit, you can’t keep worrying about me like this!”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Herobrine wasn’t tiring and he wasn’t incapable, but there was obvious restraint to his actions. He didn’t want to overextend. He didn’t want to create an accidental opening. He wasn’t used to protecting someone while fighting, that much was obvious. Steve didn’t like to see the cuts now lining Herobrine’s arms, the blood staining his shirt from shallow slices on his torso. There was even one across his cheek when he turned to look at Steve.

Steve tried to school his expression into one of determination, despite the pounding of his heart as adrenaline shot through his system. He didn’t have a great track record fighting wither skeletons, but he didn’t need to win necessarily, he just need to fend one off so Herobrine could defeat all three mobs without having to worry about him.

Whatever Herobrine saw in his expression, it worked. “Just be careful—I think the Wither is controlling them directly. They’re attacks are a lot more coordinated and they hit harder.” Herobrine handed him the sword already in his grip, summoning another in his off hand. Steve didn’t have time to marvel the gleaming black blade, as Herobrine lunged at the nearest wither skeleton and went on the offensive, engaging two at a time and leaving Steve to defend himself against the last.

Great, just what he needed, a fight against a beefed up wither skeleton. He faced the tall mob and tried to steady his hand.

Buddy appeared beside him suddenly, scaring the daylights out of him, only to disappear as an arrow sailed right where its head used to be. He would have liked to take out the regular skeleton, to have Buddy’s help, but that would require getting past the wither skeleton, which Steve honestly did not think was likely. Holding the sword felt harder than it should be—whatever this black material was, it wasn’t as heavy as iron, but with his weakened body, it felt twice as heavy.

But he had no time to get adjusted, as the wither skeleton attacked. It’s swings were hard like Herobrine had warned, the two swords clashing and sending vibrations up his arms. He wasn’t at all prepared for the first attack and he nearly lost his grip on the sword. He had to be extremely defensive if he was going to come away from this uninjured.

He gave a lot of ground in his ‘fight,’ preferring to evade rather than block or parry. He couldn’t help but glance over at Herobrine every so often, wondering how much longer he would take. It was hard to imagine a wither skeleton able to outplay Herobrine, even powered by the Wither as these seemingly were.

An enderman’s screech and bones rattling made him look over to the regular skeleton. Buddy had been able to get the drop on it and had torn its head right of its body. The bones quickly dissolved into dust.

He felt hope rise in him, as the regular skeleton was now no longer an issue and Buddy could help them out. They were going to do this, they were going to escape the Nether—

His jubilation was cut off when the wither skeleton unleashed a flurry of attacks, much quicker and more aggressive than Steve was expecting. He was able to block all but the last slash, too tired after block the heavy swings. It caught him across the side while he tried dodging away. He gasped, unable to help himself.

“Steve!”

He looked over sharply. Herobrine was looking over at him, concern evident on his features, but Steve could only see one of the wither skeletons aiming a slash directly for Herobrine’s head.

“Look out!” He yelled, pointing.

Herobrine flinched and refocused on his own fight, but he was too late to completely dodge or block the slash. Instead of cleaving his head clean in two, the tip of the sword scraped across his face.

Herobrine doubled over with a pained cry, one hand covering part of his face. Steve could see blood seeping from between his fingers and felt his heart jump to his throat. Overworld. They needed to get to the Overworld now.

“Buddy!” He shouted, rolling past the wither skeleton and making a break for the mound of basalt where the enderman was standing. “Help Herobrine! Bring him over here!”

Buddy made a sound of agreement and teleported to Herobrine’s side, and Steve threw down the sword to pull out the iron and flint, striking it with shaky hands next to the portal frame’s base. Buddy and Herobrine appeared next to him, but he could hear the wither skeletons running towards them.

“Come on, come on!” He mumbled, praying to any Gods listening to let him light this fucking portal.

“Yes!” He cried as the portal appeared in a dazzle of purple sparks. “Herobrine, come on, the portal’s up! We need to leave!” He grabbed Herobrine’s arm, trying to urge him up and through the portal. He still had a hand pressed to his face. Steve could see it was over his left eye. Blood covered his hand and trailed down his face and neck, staining his shirt even more.

Herobrine grunted, stumbling to his feet while Steve tried to usher him through the portal. Steve was tugging on his shirt, trying to get him to hurry up. “Come on, please hurry, the wither skeletons—“

He gasped when the wither skeletons rounded the basalt hiding the portal. They were too close, he was only just getting him and Herobrine into the portal—

Buddy crashed into them, shoving all three of them the rest of the way through the portal, Buddy between them and the wither skeletons. Through the swirling purple haze of the portal, he could see all three skeletons swipe at them. The portal activating was loud in his hears, but he could just barely hear the sound of Buddy’s warbled cry.

Then, they were tumbling into the Overworld. He landed on his back, squeezing his eyes shut immediately. It was blinding—after being in the Nether, the brightness of the sun was too much. He had to keep his eyes shut but he could hear the vwoop of an enderman teleporting and the deactivation of the portal.

He was too anxious to keep his eyes shut for long, however. He needed to see his surroundings, if they were safe, if the unfamiliar portal lead to somewhere they could afford to rest. He blinked his eyes open, tears of pain springing forth immediately as they burned, but he lifted himself onto his elbows and squinted around, taking in his surroundings.

A clearing in a forest. It was vaguely familiar, and blessedly deserted. No signs of human activity. Herobrine was laying curled up a few feet next to him, both hands pressed to his face. In the harsh light of the Overworld, it was easy to see the blood covering his arms and shirt. Steve felt awful looking at it. He didn’t like the idea of Herobrine being hurt because of him. It was a strange feeling, caring about another person like that. But he was thankful and a little touched that Herobrine put Steve’s safety above his own.

He shuffled closer to Herobrine, hovering a hand over him, unsure what to do. “Herobrine?”

The man groaned and said something, but it was too muffled for Steve to understand. “What?”

“It’s so. Fucking. Bright,” Herobrine hissed, and Steve sighed in relief. Maybe the wound wasn’t as bad as he believed it to be, if Herobrine was more worried about the light level.

”Are you okay?” Steve asked softly, finally settling his hand on Herobrine’s shoulder. The man was tense but that was no surprise, though Steve felt some of it leave when he laid his hand down.

”I’ll be fine,” he said curtly. “Check on Buddy.”

Steve frowned as a soft cry alerted him to Buddy’s presence at that moment. The enderman was laying beside the portal, one hand pressed to the base of the obsidian frame where a chunk of obsidian was missing, preventing the portal from being active.

As his eyes adjusted more to the light, the longer he looked at Buddy, the worse a niggling in the back of his mind became. Enderman didn’t lay down. Enderman didn’t moan pitifully in pain. And they certainly didn’t have bright purple liquid leaking from a gash across their back.

“B-Buddy?” He croaked. The enderman didn’t respond or move.

There was a ringing in his ears, his heart hammering against his ribcage painfully. His breathing increased and his vision swam the longer he stared at the enderman.

No. Keep it together. Buddy’s hurt and...and Herobrine’s hurt. I have to help them. He crawled the short distance to Buddy and inspected the enderman. There was a deep slash across the expanse of Buddy’s back, leaking a steady stream of purple blood. It coated Buddy’s back and stained the grass around it.

He placed shaky hands on Buddy’s shoulder. “Buddy?”

The enderman whined, turning its head slightly to look up at him. He offered it a watery smile. “It—It’s going to be okay,” he assured it, patting its shoulder. He looked over at Herobrine, who was still curled up and covering his face.

“We’re going to be okay.”

Chapter Text

Maybe if he kept telling himself they were going to be okay, he would start to believe it.

Buddy was...not doing good. Its breathing was becoming more labored by the minute. That bright purple blood continued to leak steadily from the gruesome gash across the enderman’s back, staining the surrounding grass and starting to soak into Steve’s jeans at the knees. Steve had been staring in a daze at his own hand for several minutes now, watching it tremble where it laid on Buddy’s coal-black skin.

The slash on his side was not life threatening but it hurt with each breath he took. His shirt was tacky with blood and clung to his skin, sending jolts of stinging pain along his side each time his shirt shifted against the tender flesh of the cut. His body was still weak as well. It was all he could do to keep himself upright—he didn’t think he could even get up if he tried, his legs felt that dead to him. 

A loud curse dragged him somewhat out of his stupor and he looked up blearily. Herobrine was on his knees now, resting on his heels with his hands still pressed to his face. In the light of the Overworld, the red staining his hands and shirt and trailing down his arms was glaringly obvious. His heart lurched as he realized it was because of him. If he had been better at defending himself against the wither skeleton, Herobrine wouldn’t have been distracted and gotten injured. He could still hear the other’s cry of pain, echoing over and over again in his head. And if Herobrine had not been injured, Buddy wouldn’t have had to take such a risk to save them and wouldn’t be laying injured right now.

Steve looked back down at Buddy. The purple blood had spread, enough to coat the palm of his hand. It was still shaking where it was pressed against Buddy’s cold skin.

This was all his fault.

He opened his mouth. I’m sorry, he wanted to say, but the words got stuck in his throat. 

“B-Buddy—“ He barely managed to choke the word out before he startled badly as Herobrine dropped to his knees heavily on Buddy’s other side. He had dropped his hands from his face, allowing Steve to see exactly what had happened.

The wither skeleton had managed to slash him across one side of his face. The cut ran from his forehead, across his right eye, and down his cheek, though it was hard to make out the exact extent of the damage due to the heavy smear of blood across the majority of Herobrine’s face. His eyes were narrowed to mere slits to help adjust to the sunlight as he stared down at Buddy. 

What the blood didn’t obscure was the expression of anger that marred his features. Steve swallowed the lump in his throat and looked down at Buddy, feeling his guilt triple.

“Buddy,” Herobrine said, his voice steady despite his expression. “I can’t tell how bad it is, it’s too bright for me to see clearly.”

Buddy warbled something sadly, making little pained noises and winces. Steve felt the hot burn of shame as he forced himself to look at the savage cut. It was there because he wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t fast or strong enough to help himself. He had never relied on anyone like he had been relying on Herobrine and Buddy recently. If it wasn’t for them, he’d probably be dead by now. He never should have gone to the Nether or trusted another human. The thought of Alex betraying him sent a pang through his heart.

Suddenly, Buddy teleported away, leaving behind a large purple stained grass patch between him and Herobrine. The sight of the blood without the body sent his heart racing even harder, painfully against his ribcage. His breath hitched, coming faster as his hand, which had previously been pressed to Buddy’s shoulder, dropped to grip the blood-slick grass instead.

“Wh-Where—“

“You need to calm down or you’re going to pass out.”

“What about—“

“Buddy’s going to be fine, it went to The End to heal.”

“Th-The End?”

Herobrine huffed. He sounded exasperated. “I don’t have time to explain it to you. Buddy will be okay.” Herobrine ducked a little to try and catch his eye. “Understand?”

“Buddy will...be okay,” he repeated. Herobrine nodded.

“Yes. Now breath before you pass out.”

Steve tried, he really did. He sat there and breathed far too fast to be healthy, but he was hurt and Herobrine was hurt and Buddy was hurt, fuck, Buddy was hurt bad and they needed to get away from the portal in case the people who attacked them came back or—God’s forbid—the portal activated again and something came through to find them. Thinking about all they had been through and all they still had to go through was not doing anything for his peace of mind, but he knew that they needed, at the very least, to get to his house and patch themselves up.

Herobrine was still sitting in front of him, passively watching him try and fail to calm down. Despite the wound, despite Buddy’s injury, despite everything that had happened, Herobrine was sitting and breathing normally, waiting patiently like it was all just another day for him. Steve forced himself to match Herobrine’s breathing, which helped as he had to actively focus on it, and eventually his heart rate decreased and breathing became easier, until he had managed to return to a relative normal, sweeping all his negative emotions under the proverbial rug in the meantime to be ignored indefinitely.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing a smile on his face that he was sure didn’t fool Herobrine. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Herobrine said, but his tone was...off. Steve looked closer at him and realized that Herobrine wasn’t looking at him. He was looking behind him.

Steve furrowed his brow and glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t see anything besides the empty portal frame.

“Herobrine?” He asked as he turned back around.

“Hm?” The man still wouldn’t look at him.

“Are you...okay?”

Then, all at once, Herobrine jerked his head to the side, casting his gaze to the ground. He took a deep breath. “What?”

Steve frowned in concern at the troubling display. “I asked if you were okay?”

“I’m fine,” he answered instantly, standing up suddenly and holding his hand out. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

“Right...” Steve said slowly, looking at Herobrine’s outstretched, bloodstained hand and swallowing the lump in his throat. He reached up and grabbed it, but his legs still felt like jelly as he tried and failed to muster up the strength to stand. Embarrassed at his continued weakness, he smiled sheepishly.

“I don’t think I can stand.”

“What?” Herobrine’s tone was urgent and his expression turned alarmed. “Why? Are you hurt?”

“My legs are just sore, I guess. From everything that’s happened, ya know?” He squeezed Herobrine’s hand tightly. “Just pull me up.”

Herobrine didn’t hesitate, hauling him to his feet fast and easy. Steve felt like he might be able to stand for a solid second before his legs decided not to support his weight and gave out on him. But Herobrine was there to hold him up, ducking under his arm and slinging it around his shoulders, his other arm curling around Steve’s waist. However, as soon as his hand made contact with Steve’s side, he hissed and instictively tried pulling away.

Herobrine pulled his hand away but kept Steve’s arm over his shoulder to help him stay upright. “Shit, you are hurt. That wither skeleton got you, didn’t it?”

Steve grit his teeth as the pain faded back into a dull throb along his entire side. “Probably not worse than your face.”

“My face hurts like a motherfucker, so you must be feeling like shit,” Herobrine deadpanned, and Steve’s smile tried to be genuine but was more like a grimace.

“Yeah okay tough guy.”

Herobrine huffed. He settled his hand lower, gripping Steve’s jeans at the belt loop.

“Do you know where we are?” Herobrine asked. His eyes were still mostly closed as he cast an uncomfortable sweep across their surroundings.

Steve did the same. “I...I think so.” The forest was vaguely familiar. He’d probably been through it once, maybe twice before, probably when he’d found his current home for the first time.

The sun had just passed midday and was starting to descend so he used that as a reference and pointed to their left. “Let’s go that way.”

Herobrine nodded and started shuffling them along. Steve did his best to hide his discomfort as every step sent pain along his side, like someone was digging a prong into his muscles. After just a few minutes, he couldn’t keep the charade up.

“Stop, stop,” he gasped out. Herobrine paused and lowered him to the ground at his insistence. He was left panting for breath as his body was finally able to relax, his legs practically numb at this point and the pain in his side pulsing angrily with his heartbeat.

“Fuck, we’re never going to get anywhere like this,” Herobrine noted, kneeling next to him. He scrubbed his hands over his face and looked around. “This would be so much easier if we could teleport.”

Steve fought back the guilt. Herobrine had already told him Buddy would be okay. He had no reason to distrust that. But it was hard to think of Buddy and not feel that desperate regret for what happened. He wished harder than anything that Buddy could have been spared that pain. He could still here its whines, see its sad eyes staring at him.

“Sorry,” he apologized, picking at some of the grass. He turned his hand over and stared at the flaking purple blood on his palm. He clenched and unclenched his hand, uncomforted by the tacky state the blood had settled into.

“Hey, didn’t I tell you not to apologize?” Herobrine asked with a brow raised. Steve looked at him, smiling a bit at the lighter tone of the words, but his smile dropped completely the longer he looked at Herobrine’s face.

With the blood starting to dry, it was a little easier to see the wound. Luckily it didn’t appear that the actual eye was damaged—it was hard to tell because Herobrine was still keeping his eyes practically closed—but Steve could only imagine what such an injury on such a sensitive area felt like. The cut wasn’t as big as Steve originally worried it might have been, but there was still a lot of blood smeared across Herobrine’s forehead and cheek, making the injury seem worse. Every time he looked at Herobrine and saw the blood, his worry and guilt both twisted his stomach and sent his heart aching from shame, but he was relieved that, at the very least, the wound wasn’t that bad. For someone like Herobrine, at least. Small victories.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked softly, absentmindedly lifting his hand to the side of Herobrine’s face with the cut. His fingertips just barely pressed against the skin of Herobrine’s cheek, mindful of any pain he might cause.

Herobrine was silent for a moment, seemingly frozen, before he lifted his hand to take Steve’s and lower it away from his face. “I’ll be fine. It doesn’t even hurt that much.” Steve realized what he’d been doing and internally winced as he pulled his hand out of Herobrine’s loose grip. He couldn’t help the heat spreading across his face as he looked away, embarrassed.

Didn’t you just say it hurt like hell not even ten minutes ago? He wanted to point out, but held his tongue. He got the impression that Herobrine was just saying whatever he thought was best for the situation, which Steve could see the benefits of—and appreciate the sentiment behind it—but it just meant he couldn’t tell what the other man was really feeling. So instead of what he wanted to say, he just said, still looking anywhere but Herobrine, “If you’re sure.”

“I will be,” Herobrine stressed, shifting from a kneel to a sit. He leaned back on his hands and closed his eyes fully, sighing. “Once the sun stops trying to cook my eyeballs in their sockets, I’ll be good as new.”

Despite wanting to curl up under a rock in embarrassment, Steve peaked over at Herobrine. There was blood covering practically his entire face and the side of his neck, staining his shirt around the collar and shoulder and in various other areas from the nicks he’d received during the fight with the two wither skeletons. Even if he could open his eyes fully, he would not even begin to look ‘good.’

The appreciation he felt at having someone like Herobrine go through all this unnecessary pain for him warred with the guilt he felt at being the cause of it. He looked away again, uncomfortable. He didn’t know if he liked relying on someone so much if they were going to be hurt because of him.

They sat in silence. Steve was slowly feeling like life was returning to his legs, but his entire body felt like it’d been repeatedly stomped on by an iron golem and then thrown off a cliff.

“What about you? How are you feeling?”

Steve looked up to see Herobrine staring at him. He managed to pull his knees up and cross his arms over them. He rested his chin on his arm, hunching into himself a bit.

“I’m—“

“Don’t even try to tell me you’re fine,” Herobrine cut in before Steve could do just that. Steve huffed in amusement, rolling his eyes.

“Okay but you’re not fine.”

“I’m not human.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re fine.”

Herobrine narrowed his eyes at him, but Steve could see the hint of a smile. “Okay, then I’m not fine,” he said with absolutely no sincerity. “You’re turn.”

Steve smiled, laying his head across his arms. “I’m tired.” He closed his eyes, focusing on how his body felt. His side hurt, a steady pain that was worse now that he’d been moving around. He felt like he was running on fumes, having already been weakened from his encountered from that strange hybrid mob in the Nether. Which reminded him...

“Hey, what happened...with that thing that attacked me?” He stifled a yawn as exhaustion settled firmly over his body. His eyes suddenly felt heavy and sleep sounded like the best thing in the world right now. 

He heard Herobrine snort. “I fucked it up and left it at the fortress. It was unresponsive the first time I found it so I don’t know...” The rest of Herobrine’s words faded into the background as Steve struggled to stay awake. He really should open his eyes and pay attention, but his thoughts were getting fuzzy and he felt lightheaded.

A finger poking his arm snapped him awake. He lifted his head and felt a thousand times worse as he looked blearily at Herobrine, who was now crouched in front of him.

“Well you weren’t kidding about being tired,” Herobrine observed. “But you shouldn’t fall asleep—not here at least. We still don’t know where we are or if we’re safe yet.”

“Sor—“ A yawn interrupted him. “Sorry.”

Herobrine sighed, shaking his head. “I thought we talked about this.” He stood and put his hands on his hips, frowning down at him. “Do you need me to carry you?”

Steve wanted to say yes strictly on the grounds that he didn’t think he could physically walk, but he had to at least try. Plus, three piggy back rides was three too many.

“Let me try to walk on my own first,” he insisted, stretching his legs out in front of him. They were sore, like he’d overworked the muscles and then pushed past that limit. But he could move them now, a far better start than just minutes before. “You can help me up though,” he said, reaching up with both hands.

Herobrine made the motion of rolling his eyes and reached out in turn to grab both of Steve’s hands and haul him to his feet. He swayed unsteadily for a moment, breathing deeply through a head rush, before his head cleared a bit and his legs felt steady beneath him.

“So far so good,” he joked lightly. Taking an experimental step forward, he braced himself but nothing happened. His leg felt weak but it was managing to hold him up. “See?” He looked up and smiled, giving Herobrine a thumbs up for good measure. Herobrine stared at him, his expression completely passive, long enough that Steve’s brief playfulness completely faded. “What?”

“Nothing,” Herobrine said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lead the way. And tell me if you need help, I don’t want to see any tripping, got it?”

“Yes mom,” he snickered, looking around to regain his bearings. Things weren’t okay but...they would be. Eventually. Steve just had to hold out hope that it’d be sooner rather than later.

He realigned himself with the sun and started off, slower than before but his legs were holding. Herobrine walked next to him with his hands behind his head.

Out of all the things Steve wanted to say in that moment, he couldn’t make himself spit the words out. Twice he’d opened his mouth and immediately closed it when the words got lodged in his throat. He wanted to thank Herobrine, for helping him so much and for being his friend. He wanted to apologize more, to make the other understand that Steve hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. He wanted to ask what their next step was, but thoughts of the future made his stomach twist in anxiety.

And then he wanted to just...talk. Normal people did that, right? Steve had never had a traveling companion so he didn’t have much experience with small talk. Or any talk, really. Even when he went into villages and made an effort to hide his eyes, he didn’t stay and chat. It was in-and-out—all business.

He wouldn’t even know what to say anyway. Inexplicable embarrassment made him blush. Just the thought of try and failing to do something as simple as talk was too much for him. Probably better to just not say anything and avoid making a fool of himself.

So instead of talking, he kept his gaze forward and watched the trees, looking for any signs of someone following them or having been through there, or a familiar bit of land or scenery that would jog his memory as to their exact location in regards to his house. So far he’d found nothing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming.

“This is the first time I’ve been in the Overworld in over 200 years,” Herobrine said suddenly. When Steve looked over at him, he had his face tilted to the sky. “I don’t remember the color blue being so...vibrant. And the trees are so green, I—“ Herobrine cut himself off when he looked over and saw the small smile on Steve’s face. “What?”

“I’m glad you get to be here again,” he said sincerely, looking up to the sky as well. “For all the trouble I’ve had growing up here, I can’t deny that the Overworld is beautiful.” He had a complicated relationship with the Overworld, but he really did love it. Well most of it. The nature for sure. The potential for adventure definitely. Just...not the inhabitants.

“It...yeah, it is,” Herobrine agreed. He sounded distracted. When Steve looked over, he saw Herobrine staring at him, though it was only for a moment before Herobrine quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “How are you holding up, by the way?”

Steve raised a brow at the abrupt topic change but went along with it anyway. He shrugged. “Still tired, but I think I’ll be okay. Though don’t be alarmed if I pass out the moment I find a bed.”

“I’ll try to keep my cool.”

Steve smiled to himself. “What about you?” He asked. “How are you holding up?”

Herobrine made an irritated sound. “I already told you—“

“That you’re not human, blah blah blah, whatever. But how do you feel?”

He matched Herobrine’s disdain with an expectant brow raise. Herobrine scoffed and looked away.

“My face hurts and it’s too bright. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Steve blinked, taken aback. Yes and no. He wanted Herobrine to tell him how he felt without feeling pressured into it or saying whatever was right for the situation. But if it bothered him so much to talk about himself like this, maybe Steve ought to lay off and trust that Herobrine knew what he was doing and would tell him if anything serious happened.

“Um...okay.” He tried to keep his voice even. He couldn’t shake the feeling of rejection that didn’t quite make sense but wrapped around his heart and squeezed anyway. He thought he’d done a good job of masking it but as he looked away, feeling dejected, Herobrine grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Wait, look, I’m...sorry.” Herobrine let his hand go when he saw Steve was going to let him talk. “I’m just not used to...this—“ He gestured between them. “—and I know that’s not a reason to act like an asshole I just...it’s...” Herobrine floundered for what to say before he sighed. “It’s just hard.” He looked away, his whole body sagging. Steve wondered if Herobrine was actually as tired as he himself felt and was just better at hiding it. “A lot has happened in a short amount of time and I’m not doing a very good job at coping, I guess.”

“I get it,” Steve said kindly. “You don’t have to explain. I just...” He paused, unsure if he should say what he was thinking, but if they were going to be on the run for the foreseeable future, he might as well. He didn’t want Herobrine to think he had to...pretend to be strong when he wasn’t, or try to hide things. “I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk about what’s wrong. We’re friends, okay? You can tell me the truth about this kinda thing.”

The intensity of the expression on Herobrine’s face was enough to make Steve want to avert his eyes, but he withstood the impulse and instead waited until Herobrine surprised him by nodding and breaking eye contact first with a soft laugh. “Friends. Okay.” He laced his fingers behind his head again and started walking. Steve watched his back for a few seconds, a smile creeping onto his face, before catching up.

The silence was much more comfortable. Steve felt lighter now that they’d cleared a little bit of the air. There was still things he wanted to talk about, but at the same time he was absolutely exhausted and just wanted to get home so he could sleep for a week, and talking required effort that his brain could do better utilizing on walking straight.

After a while, the trees thinned out until the forest became a plains. Steve knew it to be the plains Blake had taken him to. He shivered suddenly, coming to a stop at the border of the biomes.

“Well, I know where we are now,” he announced. “About thirty more minutes to go, maybe more at our pace.”

Herobrine sighed. “Great. Lead on.”

Steve took a step into the plains but couldn’t force himself to take another. Dread crept up his spine and his heart started pounding. He suddenly felt lightheaded and nauseous. On a whim he turned to the side and walked along the edge of the biomes. It might take a little longer to get home, but if it meant he didn’t have to feel that sense of impending doom, then so be it.

He almost mentioned what had happened in the plains, but decided against it. Who cared what had happened? It was in the past. Herobrine didn’t need to know exactly where it had went down. It would probably just end up making him angry, and they had been having an okay time, so far and all things considered. Steve didn’t want to ruin it just because he had some lingering hang-ups about his encounter with Blake.

As they walked, Steve couldn’t help but think about Buddy. It hurt to remember the enderman’s pain, the way it had whined and the look in its eyes. Having Buddy around would be a Godsend, especially since Herobrine couldn’t teleport him. No, that would be too easy, and the universe—as Steve well knew—was always against him when it came to anything in his life being easy. With how sore and achy his body felt, he wished desperately that Buddy was here. He just had to hope that Buddy being okay wasn’t something Herobrine told him because it’s what he needed to hear.

Unsettled by that thought, he voiced his concern. “Buddy’s really going to be okay, right?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You didn’t just say that so I would calm down, right?” The sudden desire to learn the truth was insistent upon his mind. Herobrine gave him an odd look, but it morphed into something softer when he saw how distraught Steve was.

“Buddy will be okay, I promise. It might take a while, especially since it had wither, but it’ll recover.”

Steve felt five times worse hearing that. “Buddy had wither too?”

“A cut that deep? Definitely. You’re lucky you didn’t get it,” Herobrine commented, eyeing Steve’s side in displeasure.

Steve pressed a hand lightly over the cut, grimacing. The pain was there but muted, taking second place to his legs—to his entire body, actually, which felt like one giant bruise at this point.

“You said that it was going to...The End? Right? What is that?”

Herobrine shrugged. “It’s where endermen come from. I’ve been there a few times and honestly? I don’t care much for it.”

“Huh. I never wondered where endermen were from before.” They were scary enough to be considered ‘other’ and left at that. Zombies were dead humans, skeletons decayed zombies, and endermen were just there, don’t ask questions. Kinda the same way he felt about creepers—he shuddered just thinking about the green bastards. Buddy was making endermen seem a little nicer than he’d previously thought though.

“Where is it?”

“It’s like the Nether, only harder to get to. There’s a whole bunch of convoluted steps to get the portal to activate. The hardest part might just be finding the damn stronghold in the first place.”

Steve was amazed as he listened. Herobrine knew so much about everything, and Steve had never heard of a stronghold or The End.

“What’s it like?”

Herobrine gave him a look and Steve held out his hands. “What?” Herobrine just shook his head.

“It’s a barren wasteland of absolute nothingness.”

Steve grimaced. That sounded...about right, actually. Considering how scary endermen were. “Really? I can see why you wouldn’t want to go back.”

Herobrine snorted but didn’t comment and they lapsed into that comfortable silence again.

Fourty five minutes went by at a crawl, but eventually Steve started recognizing his surroundings. They were close, just a little more and he’d be home. His bed was the single most appealing thing he could imagine right now.

However, just when Steve thought he could see his house through the trees, Herobrine stopped him with a hand on his arm. Steve looked at him in curiosity.

“What’s up?”

Herobrine didn’t answer right away. He was looking with a pinched expression towards where Steve knew his house to be. “Herobrine?”

“I...I don’t know.” He didn’t elaborate further and Steve looked between him and where his house was.

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t...know...what I’m feeling,” Herobrine explained. “I think...I think there’s someone over there.” He jerked his chin toward the direction of the house.

“Someone—like a person? You can sense that?” Had Herobrine always been able to sense people? Mobs Steve could understand, but a human?

“I guess so.” Herobrine didn’t sound to happy about it though.

Steve looked toward where his house was and decided that whoever it was, he and Herobrine could take them. Of course, there was a lot wrong with that thought because Steve probably couldn’t take a stiff breeze right now, but the call of his bed was too strong for him to ignore. It was worth the risk.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out loudly. “Hello?”

“Steve!” Came a familiar cry back. “Is that you!?”

Oh, Gods, it was Alex.

He didn’t know if he could trust her. Who else would have information about where he was and what he was up to? She had to have been the one to tip off Adelaide’s group, no matter how much Steve wished it wasn’t true. He just didn’t understand why she would do it. Just thinking about it made him feel vaguely sick.

“A friend of yours?” Herobrine commented. He looked tense, a far cry from just a few minutes ago.

“I—“ He needed to make a decision before the situation got out of control. He’d seen the way Herobrine had stepped in front of him when Leon had been reaching for him. If Herobrine found out that Alex might have been the cause as to why Adelaide and her friends confronted them, he might not be so willing to work with her. Because they could use her help.

He turned to Herobrine. “Yes, she is. She’s the only person I’ve ever been able to somewhat befriend in my life. Plus, we could definitely use her help.”

Herobrine didn’t look happy, but he didn’t argue, which Steve was immensely grateful for as he said, “I’ll go talk to her. Probably better if she doesn’t see you—at least not yet.”

Herobrine huffed and crossed his arms. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re probably right. But I’ll be watching in case she tries anything.” Herobrine gave him a knowing look, like he knew what Alex might have done. Steve sincerely hoped not.

“Okay.”

Herobrine disappeared and Steve almost freaked out until he realized that just because Herobrine couldn’t teleport him, that didn’t mean he couldn’t in general. He took a deep breath and started towards his house.

Alex was standing by his front door, looking around with blatant worry. When she caught sight of him, the relief was real enough that Steve believed it.

“Steve!” She ran up to him. For a moment he was afraid she was going to crash into him and hug him, but she slowed to a stop just before him, her eyes wide as she looked him up and down. “Oh my Gods, what happened?”

He winced, rubbing at the back of his head. His heart was racing, caught between knowing that she did something wrong and having no proof of it and completely unsure if his hunch had been right. He wanted to just come out and say it, but he held his tongue.

“The Nether...well, the Nether happened.” He chuckled but as Alex’s borderline horror at his appearance remained on her face, his mirth quickly fell away.

“Yeah, no kidding,” she agreed, then she gasped and jolted. “Oh Gods, come on, you must be exhausted. Do you need help?”

He motioned for her to go ahead. “No, I can make it. Although, if you have any potions...”

She hurried over to his door and held it open for him. Her face told him the answer to his question before she could speak.

“Sorry, I don’t have any right now.”

Steve sighed but he knew it’d been a long shot. Didn’t hurt to ask though.

Being in his house again was like a breath of fresh air. Seeing his bed make him weak in the knees and he almost stumbled to it right then and there—forget Alex, Herobrine, Adelaide, that mob that’d attacked him. Everything was second to him and his amazing, perfect bed.

Instead he forced himself to the table and sat down heavily on a chair, which still felt amazing to his overtaxed body. He groaned and stretched out in the chair, wincing as the strain pulled at his cut.

Alex busied herself by lighting the torches around the room, then sat herself on the other side of the table, frowning at him. “You really look like shit dude. What the hell happened in there?”

There was no way he was going to answer that.

“The Nether’s a lot crazier than I thought it would be,” he said, which was true. So he didn’t feel bad about saying it. “Still not used to the mobs over there.” He smiled and hoped it fooled her.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so,’ but I definitely did,” she pointed out. “There’s a reason I don’t go there; that place is wild.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You were right.”

She leaned forward and brought her arms up to place her elbows on the table, supporting her head in her hands. “I’m sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite catch what you said—you said that I was right?”

He rolled his eyes and couldn’t fully suppress the smile tugging at his lips. “Ha ha. Don’t you ever get tired of hearing that?”

“Nope. It’s like music to me.”

Steve was smiling, but his heart hurt. Talking with her was so easy. He hadn’t been lying to Herobrine about her—she really was his first friend and they just...clicked. That’s why Steve decided he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. But later, after he’d slept.

“I’m sorry to have worried you,” he said, dropping his gaze to the table and scratching at the wood with his nail. “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t be returning there anytime soon.”

He heard her sigh, then her hand reached over to squeeze his. “It makes me feel better knowing you’re safe.”

The words were like a dagger to his heart, with how sincere she sounded. It filled him with hope that he’d just jumped to conclusions and she had nothing to do with what Adelaide had said. He felt awful, that he would believe her to betray him so easily, when she had been nothing but a friend to him.

“Thanks, that...that means a lot. More than you know.” He squeezed back and looked up at her with a grateful smile, only to be interrupted by a yawn. Alex chuckled.

“Alright I can take a hint,” she said as she stood. “I’ll come back tomorrow with some potions, yeah?”

The relief was swift. “Yeah. That sounds great.”

She walked to the door. “Alright. See ya tomorrow.”

He raised a hand and waved weakly. “See ya.”

She left, and Steve sighed. Now that he didn’t have to keep up appearances—even as weary an appearance as he was currently sporting—he sagged into the chair and laid his head against the back, closing his eyes. Just for a second before he got busy cleaning himself up.

He let himself relax.

He made it.

He was home.

Right as he was on the cusp of losing consciousness, the sound of Herobrine teleporting into his house grabbed his attention, dragging him back. With a groan, he lifted his head to look up at the other. Everything was slowing down now that his mind knew he was safe, and his body was fighting him at every step to send him into blissful sleep.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to sleep like that,” Herobrine commented. He crossed his arms and leaned against the table next to Steve.

“Probably not,” Steve agreed, but he made no move to get up. “But try telling that to my brain. It seems to think this is the perfect spot.” His eyes drifted over to his bed in the corner. Just seeing it made his body feel weaker and he looked at it in longing.

“Let’s at least get you patched up and then you can finally rest,” Herobrine said with a shake of his head, then he looked around. “You got anything for that?” He pointed to Steve’s side.

Steve gestured haphazardly to the chests against the wall. “Somewhere—“ He yawned, so wide his jaw ached. “—over there.”

Herobrine went to rummage through the chests and Steve watched him with tired eyes, each blink lasting longer and longer until he didn’t even realize he’d dozed off until he woke up, groggy and disoriented.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Herobrine whispered.

Steve was trying to figure out what had woken him, but he was still half asleep. His body was tired of being denied rest and was trying to send him right back under.

Through heavily lidded eyes he could see that the room was dark. Was it night time already? He shivered as a chill crept over his exposed skin. When had it become colder? And why did the room look different? The chair had turned into something soft and inviting, and he looked down when he felt something brush against his side.

Herobrine was kneeling in front of him, applying a bandage to the cut. Steve’s body was so drained and his mind so focused on sleep that he barely felt when the bandage pressed against the wound, but he did notice that he was shirtless. So that was why it was cold.

Despite how dark it was, Steve could see that Herobrine’s face had been cleaned of blood, leaving only the dark line of the cut. His heart ached and he reached forward without thinking, this time using both hands to cup Herobrine’s face.

“Are you okay?” He mumbled, gently turning Herobrine’s face this way and that to get a good look at the cut. He couldn’t see much thanks to the darkness, so he stopped moving but kept his hands there, absentmindedly smoothing his thumbs over Herobrine’s cheeks. The momentary distraction was fading and so was he as he closed his eyes again.

Herobrine said something quietly, but Steve completely missed it as his brain shut down to allow him the sleep he desperately needed. The last thing he registered was being lowered onto the bed properly before he faded into unconsciousness completely.

Herobrine stepped away from the bed, heart racing.

He couldn’t get the glazed, concerned eyes out of his head. That casual, gentle touch that Steve never failed to initiate. It still boggled his mind that Steve could be so...caring. So trusting. His cheeks still tingled along the path Steve’s thumbs had taken.

He took a deep, shuttering breath and walked away from the bed, moving to the window instead. It had become clear to him pretty early on that Steve was going to crash and crash hard, so when that girl had left and he started trying to help Steve take care of the cut on his side, he’d gone around the room and doused the torches, as well as drawn the shades on all the windows. It had plunged the room into relative darkness, but not nearly enough to hinder his advanced vision. After that he’d walked a semi-lucid Steve over to his bed and removed his shirt to get a good look at the cut.

Seeing it made anger flare up, hot in his gut, but he just took a deep breath and let it die out, until he felt just as exhausted as Steve looked. Now wasn’t a time to get angry. Instead he focused on wiping the blood away to get a better idea of how bad the wound was. He was relieved to see it was superficial—jagged, but ultimately not life-threatening.

And then Steve had waken up and done...that.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks. He wasn’t used to genuine attention like that, especially not something that seemed borderline—if not absolutely—affectionate. It put him completely out of his comfort zone...but he found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he might.

He chalked it up to Steve’s exhaustion—clearly the man had become delirious and hadn’t been aware of what he’d been doing.

He bit his lip. Unbidden, his gaze slid back over to Steve.

He shook his head and teleported outside. The fresh air felt cold against his heated face, and he stood there and just breathed, relishing in the chance to do so again.

He’d downplayed it earlier, when he’d mentioned it, but he couldn’t believe he was back. That they’d made it—that he’d made it. How long had he spent resigned to the belief that he was going to live the rest of his long life in the Nether? And now...now he was back in the Overworld. It was like a dream he never wanted to wake up from.

It was still too bright, but his eyes were slowly adjusting. He almost couldn’t stand to keep them closed. He wanted to look at everything, to see all the colors the Nether lacked, to soak in everything he’d forgotten he was missing. The gentle breeze. The warm sun. The sound of nature.

For so long he’d been trapped with the sound of soul sand whispering for mercy, bones rattling mixed with the drag of stone on stone, the Wither’s otherwordly voice—

He opened his eyes, unsettled. He was standing in front of Steve’s nether portal frame.

Like before, in that clearing they’d appeared in, the nether portal almost seemed to whisper to him. It called out to him, a gentle tug that managed to disturb him more than anything else as of late. He hadn’t wanted to worry Steve, but the pull to go back was strong enough that Herobrine himself was worried. He knew it had to be the Wither doing it, but that just made it worse.

Forcing himself to turn away from the portal, Herobrine teleported back into the house. He was caught between a rock and a hard place—think about the Wither and his mounting fear of going back to the Nether, or think about Steve and his growing...feelings.

He groaned and collapsed into one of the chairs, scrubbing his face with his hands. He tried not to think about anything as he sat and waited for Steve to wake up so they could plan their next move.

With a sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Chapter Text

It became clear to him almost immediately after Steve fell asleep that something was wrong.

Nothing should have been wrong. The day outside was bright, birds chirping nearby. There was no trouble around he could sense. The house was quiet, filled only with the sounds of Steve’s soft breathing.

Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Yes, being in the Overworld was…amazingly overwhelming, and he was sure that was partially the reason for him feeling this way, but he knew deep down that something else was causing this. And he knew what it was, he was just too afraid to name it.

But sitting with only him and his thoughts was a poor pastime. The longer he sat, the worse he felt.

When he had summoned the Wither for the first time, he had done so in a way that tied the two of them together inseparably. And even though Herobrine was glad to be away from the Wither—that lied to him, that enabled him, that destroyed him and put him back together as something broken—it felt like he had left a part of himself behind in the Nether. Like he was missing a limb and slowly bleeding out.

Several times now he had spaced out and come back to himself standing at the door, hand on the knob. And each time he resolutely marched back over to the chair and sat down and stared anywhere else but outside, futilely hoping that the feeling would just go away.

But he could only stare at the wall or at Steve for so long before his thoughts derailed again. Thinking about the Wither and the Nether was bad and made him feel uncomfortable, but thinking about Steve—as was his only other option—was equally as bad.

Well, not really. Steve himself was great, the best thing the universe had seen fit to throw at him. Steve brought a sense of enjoyment to everything he did, and was equally likely to bring trouble with him. Herobrine wasn’t too prideful to admit he enjoyed Steve’s company.

What he was afraid of was his developing dependency on the human’s presence. He’d already experienced it in the Nether, waiting for Steve to recover and come back. That period of time had felt like eons, and his thoughts had been consumed by an incessant need to know when Steve would return. Thinking back on it, he felt embarrassed. He was not some dog waiting for its master to return. He was a grown man, dammit, he shouldn’t have this weakness.

But then he looked at Steve and knew immediately why he was feeling this way. Because Steve was good.

Steve was good despite his past, and Herobrine was bad because of his, but that thought left a sour taste in his mouth. Was it fair to blame his past when Steve’s was equally as horrible yet the man could smile and joke and shrug off being assaulted like it didn’t matter? And then still laugh afterwards? He could be injured and exhausted and still put others before himself. That was a kind of strength Herobrine admired because he knew it was more than he would ever be capable of.

And then that look, from earlier, that he still couldn’t get out of his head. There was no way Steve hadn’t known, at least a little bit, what he’d been doing. Tired or not, the gentle, casual touching was one thing, but cupping his face and looking at him with half lidded eyes? Even though Herobrine knew that it was due to exhaustion, he couldn’t help thinking about it in another scenario entirely—one that he would keep firmly in his fantasies.

Unbidden, what happened earlier that day on their walk here popped up in his head. He instantly blushed just thinking about it, embarrassed that he would be so obvious. But Steve had smiled at him and looked up at the sky and his eyes were so bright in the sun, his short hair tousled by the wind, his expression soft and sincere…

“I’m glad you get to be here again. For all the trouble I’ve had growing up here, I can’t deny that the Overworld is beautiful.”

“It…yeah, it is.”

But he had been looking at Steve.

His cheeks were practically on fire at this point. Thinking back on that moment, he felt like such a fool, especially when he remembered Steve looking over and catching him staring. Luckily he didn’t think Steve connected the dots, but it was enough that Herobrine knew what happened.

Uncomfortable and now blushing, he sighed deeply and turned his gaze away from Steve. But he looked outside and saw the portal and grit his teeth as frustration shot through him. He couldn’t escape thoughts of the Wither and he couldn’t escape thoughts of Steve—

He stood and carefully made his way outside, trying to be as silent as possible, though given how exhausted Steve was, nothing short of an earthquake might wake him. As soon as the door shut with a soft click, he turned around and leaned against it, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

The air was so much cleaner, in the Overworld. He had never really realized just how polluted the Nether was until now. It was like night and day, the quality. He much more preferred the intense heat of the Nether, but the air and breeze and sun and—and light were incredible. He didn’t remember it all being so intense, yet it didn’t feel oppressive or unwelcoming. It truly was beautiful.

He stood there, slumped against the door, and just breathed. It was going to be night soon. He needed to be ready to deter any mobs from the house for the duration of it. He’d fight them all off a dozen to one if he had too. He wanted nothing to disturb Steve’s sleep so the human could wake up feeling refreshed and they could leave as soon as possible.

Then there was the tiny little issue that they had nowhere to go. Herobrine was probably in the wrong for feeling this way, but he was kinda excited for it. No plan, no destination—just the two of them winging it in the wild. He was pretty sure he’d had dreams of that exact thing, back when he was human. Of course the unforeseen company was a surprise but by no means a bad one. He had spent the majority of his short human life ostracizing other humans and working towards summoning the Wither, so he’d deprived himself of a life of exploration and adventure. Not something he’d cared about back then, but he was glad he could experience it now, even if he did have the Overworld’s biggest trouble magnet with him.

When he opened his eyes some time later, having accidentally spaced out a bit, night was beginning to fall. The sky was a blazing orange and pink, a beautiful smear of color painted across the entirety of the sky. He didn’t remember sunsets being so awe-inspiring, but he was transfixed by the sight until the sun was properly gone and the sky turned dark, revealing thousands upon thousands of twinkling stars and the bright, full moon, just as mesmerizing as the sunset.

He felt small, looking up at the sky. Like his problems were inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Absentmindedly he touched the bottom of the cut slashed into his cheek. Its faint ache no longer registered to his mind unless he focused on it, and maybe, just like the cut, his unease— anxiety , loathe he was to admit it—would fade in time as well so long as he didn’t worry so godsdammed much about it.

Or maybe he would do what he’d always done and ignore his problems until they went away. That seemed to work pretty well for him so far.

He was still leaning against the door, so he lowered himself to the ground and sat with his back against it. Now that it was nighttime, he finally had something other than his thoughts to distract him.

Considering the circumstance of his being, the fact that he had influence over every mob in the Nether continually baffled him. Well—almost every mob. Zombified piglins were just too stupid too listen to simple commands, and endermen were technically already controlled by another being. But endermen were bored most of the time and helped out of morbid curiosity, and if he was angry enough, even zombie piglins would submit, though it was an act of self-preservation rather than intelligence. Piglins themselves sometimes resisted, but they too would submit given enough pressure.

He’d been operating under the assumption that the Wither’s immense presence affected his ability to control mobs. It had never crossed his mind that it was all him and had nothing to do with the Wither.

Which is why when the first mob showed up, a spider, he was surprised when he told it to stop and it did.

He did a double take and stared at it in shock. He’d been joking a bit, telling it to stop, having expected it to ignore him completely. But it turned to him and stopped dead in its tracks, not even hissing.

Spiders weren’t Nether mobs. The Wither was not here. There was no misreading this situation.

Slowly, he stood and walked over to the giant spider. It tilted its head to look up at him when he was right in front of it, its bright glowing red eyes unblinking and trained directly on him. Given it was night time, he expected to feel some sort of hostility from the spider, but it was settled into a passive state, despite his presence next to it. It was like the spider thought he was a mob.

Baffled, he gave a silent command to all mobs that might be nearby to keep a wide berth from him. Instantly, the spider fled in the direction it’d come from, disappearing into the trees. He stared after it in wonder for a long while, long enough to feel the presence of other mobs approach and then flee.

Earlier he had been just as confused, when he could sense a presence he had never felt before. And when it turned out to be a simple human , his heart had started racing at that implication. He had never been able to sense a human. A mob he might understand, given his connection to the Wither, but a human? It didn’t make any sens—

He stopped as a realization hit him. All this time and he’d never even considered thinking that maybe taking power from the Wither had made him, for all intents and purposes, a mob himself.

“Oh my Gods,” he whispered, staring at his hands like he’d never seen them before. If—If that was true, then things made a lot more sense. Because even when he wasn’t influencing mobs, they weren’t hostile towards him. But the Wither had been there, so—ugh, he didn’t know how much was him and how much was the Wither.

Petulantly, he glared at the portal frame, cursing the Wither for continuing to ruin his life.

Relaxing his ‘keep away’ broadcast, he went in search of the nearest mob. He could feel one not too far away, but as he walked through the forest, he kept glancing back at Steve’s house, unwilling to lose sight of it. Even though he could feel Steve’s presence and a lack of any others near it, he still felt uneasy walking so far away.

Luckily he came upon the mob while still able to see the tiniest hint of the house. It was a creeper, which was good because they were more intelligent than zombies but exclusive to the Overworld, unlike skeletons which existed both here and the Nether. Briefly he wondered why he had never questioned the regular skeletons obeying him but quickly pushed the thought aside for later.

The creeper was minding its own business and Herobrine approached it as casually as he could. He muted his presence, trying to imitate a weak, more fearful human to entice the mob to attack. But even standing a foot away, the creeper just stared at him, tilting its head for a moment before turning and wandering away. Herobrine stared after it, feeling so lost and confused. In all his research and then all the years he’d spent with the Wither, it had not occurred to him that he might become a mob by accepting its power. He felt like a fool.

Definitely not sulking, he trudged his way back to Steve’s house, mind racing to try and remember a time that might provide evidence that he wasn’t a mob. Unfortunately and frustratingly, all his memories just supported his theory.

When he got back to the cleared bit of land in front of the house, his gaze was instantly drawn to the portal frame. Almost like an afterthought he averted his eyes and grit his teeth. It took monumental effort to keep his gaze steady on Steve’s door and not look at the silent, dark portal.

When he passed in front of the windows and grabbed the door knob, he paused. Furrowing his brows, he took a step to the side until he was standing in front of the window again. With the house inside being dark, and his superior vision, he could easily see his reflection.

In disbelief, he touched the cut along his face—well, what was left of it. It might have been the darkness, but it looked healed. More than it should be. He’d always had fast healing, but this was too fast. Like he’d taken a regeneration potion. He ran his fingers over it, but he couldn’t feel any raised skin or scabbing. It was like the wound was years old as opposed to hours.

“What the fuck is going on?” He whispered to himself. First sensing a human, then commanding Overworld mobs, now faster healing? Shouldn’t the distance between him and the Wither be hindering his abilities?

And, now that he was thinking about it, he felt good. Better than he should feel. He felt energized, healthy and strong and capable. He didn’t remember ever feeling like that, like he could take on the world. In the Nether there had always been an oppressive air to the fortress, but it felt like more than just the Wither’s doing, like the Nether itself was sucking the life out of him, slowly but surely. Though why being in the Overworld would have this kind of influence over him was a mystery.

He was roughly pulled from his thoughts by a low sound from inside the house. Shit, had a mob made its way inside while he’d been with the creeper?

Heart lodged all the way in his throat in sudden and all encompassing panic, he hurried to open the door and rushed inside, wild eyed and ready to throw down. But once he saw what was making the sound he let out a breath and sat at the table, putting his face in his hands.

I’m such a fucking mess , he thought to himself, looking up through his fingers.

It was only Steve, tossing and turning and mumbling to himself. He didn’t appear to be having a nightmare but his rest was clearly fitful. It had happened a little in the Nether but never to this extent. Although still worried, Herobrine was not able to actually do anything, so he sat slumped in the chair in frustration, staring at Steve.

“No, not the…squid…” Steve mumbled, turning towards him and dislodging the blanket. It slid down the side of the bed until it was half on the ground.

The sight was so pathetically domestic that Herobrine stood with a sigh and made his way over. He hesitated right at the side of the bed, but then pushed his reservation to the side and bent down to grab the blanket. Steve was still moving around sporadically, so he settled the blanket across the bed as best he could. Once done, he stood there, stilled by the sight of Steve’s lax face turned toward him, illuminated by the moonlight from outside. He could perfectly imagine those stunning violet eyes opening, the smile that would light up his face because Steve was happy to see him, somehow.

His eyes trailed down and he noticed Steve was still wearing the gold bracer. He gently loosened the tie and slipped the bracer off, setting it on the bedside table next to the roll of bandage he’d used to wrap Steve’s side wound. His eyes flicked back to Steve’s face.

Before he even realized what he was doing he had a hand outstretched, but caught himself halfway and paused. Then, as if slapped, he jerked away and walked backwards until he stumbled into the chair and sat down, heart racing and face hot.

He stared at Steve and then glanced at the Nether portal frame.

What have I gotten myself into? He thought miserably, crossing his arms and closing his eyes as he slumped in the chair.

He didn’t sleep, per say, but he dozed on and off, too keyed up to properly sleep in case something happened and he wasn’t ready to react. But all that happened was his own mood worsening over the course of the night as he purposefully denied himself sleep and waiting on edge for something that ultimately didn’t happen until the sun had risen again.

By the time he felt anything abnormal, he had taken to sitting with his head pillowed in his arms, slumped over the table. But as soon as he felt the approaching presence from yesterday he jerked up, wincing briefly at the strain in his neck and back but pushing the pain away as he looked out the window.

It was strange, feeling this. He knew it wasn’t a mob, that it was most likely that human girl from yesterday, but just the fact that he could sense her was mind boggling to him.

She wasn’t close enough to be visible, but Herobrine was suddenly struck with panic as he hadn’t been thinking about this occurrence at all. Steve was still sleeping and showing no signs of waking up. Was he just supposed to leave and let her knock and wake him? Should he intervene? He looked between Steve and the forest outside, probably overthinking and stressing about what he should do. He didn’t know how much Steve had told this girl, if she knew about him or not. Based on what Steve had said yesterday, he would assume no. 

She was getting closer and his window of decision was rapidly closing. He made a sound of displeasure when he spotted her making her way through the trees.

As she stepped into the clearing in front of Steve’s house, he made a snap decision and teleported behind her. She jumped at the sound and made to turn but he grabbed her from behind and secured an arm around her middle while covering her mouth with his other hand so she couldn’t scream.

As soon as he’d done it, he instantly regretted it, but there was no turning back now. She struggled because of course she did, but her voice was muffled enough that he was sure Steve wouldn’t wake from it. Good thing too, because he was also sure that Steve would heavily disapprove of his choice right now.

“Would you stop struggling?” He grunted, grimacing as she tried to scratch and pry his hand away from her mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just don’t want you to wake Steve.”

That seemed to settle her a bit, as she stopped scratching at his hand, but she was still trying to tug out of his grip. He huffed.

“If I let you go, will you promise not to scream?”

Her words were too muffled for him to understand, but she seemed to catch on and nodded instead. Reluctantly, he let her go and stepped back. He already knew this was not going to go well.

She sprang forward and lurched around, hand on the sword at her hip, but she didn’t draw it as she glared at him.

“What the fuck, you couldn’t have just greeted me at the door?” She said bitingly, but at least she kept her voice down. He sighed and shook his head, hoping the embarrassment he felt wasn’t showing on his face.

“I panicked,” he admitted, crossing his arms defensively. “Sorry.”

She raised a brow but relaxed somewhat, eyeing him. After a few seconds of scrutiny, she said, “I can honestly say that I did not see this coming. I mean, he asked about you, but I didn’t expect... this .” He didn’t like the way she said that.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s that supposed to mean? And why would he ask you about me?”

She gave him an odd look. “Well I assume he saw you.”

Was he missing something? “How do you know me?”

She opened her mouth, paused, then closed it with a shake of her head. “Nevermind. Steve can tell you about it later. Speaking of, what was that about waking him up?”

He was reluctant to gesture to the house. “He’s sleeping.”

She raised a brow. “And? It’s morning now.” He was not appreciating the looks she was giving him, like he was simple and needed slow, careful explanation. She cocked a hip and put her hand on it. “You do know that humans wake up around this time, right?”

“Don’t patronize me,” he growled, balling his fists. “I was human once.”

Her look only lessened a bit, then she shrugged and raised her hands in defense. “Okay, sure. So, care to explain what I just walked into?”

“Not particularly,” he muttered, but she must have heard because her smile was sharp in response.

“Oh, I can tell we’re going to get along wonderfully.”

Steve was hoping that when he woke up, he’d feel better. Refreshed. That his problems would be gone, his wounds healed, and maybe everything that had happened would have turned out to be a nightmare, something that would fade from his memory as he got up and went about his day.

Instead, as he was mercilessly roused from the sweet slumber of unconsciousness, he felt just as bad now as he had before.

He stared up at the ceiling with tired eyes, lamenting everything that had led to this point in his life, and tried to just breathe through the...well, it wasn’t quite pain. His body just felt like it had been put through a meat grinder. His arms and legs ached and each minuscule movement took more effort than he would have liked. It was the bone-deep ache that only came from overusing your muscles, and his whole body felt like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point.

After a few minutes, he shifted his gaze to the window beside his bed. The blinds were drawn, but he could see that it was light outside And not only was it light but it looked more like afternoon light than morning light. He frowned. Hadn’t it been light when he’d fallen asleep?

After several more minutes of regretting existence, he sat up with a groan, wincing as his side sent a jolt of electric pain through his body. So not only did his body ache with overexertion, but his side was now pulsing angrily with his heart beat, as if punishing him for moving around. He touched a hand to the wound, surprised when he discovered not only his lack of a shirt but the tight bandage around his waist. He frowned down at it, wondering when it had been applied. Had Herobrine done it? The last thing he remembered was sitting at the table…

Deciding he could figure it out later and preferably after breakfast, he sighed and scrubbed at his face, then looked up blearily. He nearly had a heart attack when he realized he wasn’t alone.

Herobrine was sitting at the table, facing him with his legs crossed and his arm propped up on the table, supporting his head. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open as he breathed deeply in sleep.

But what was stranger than seeing someone else in his house was the three bottles of what looked to be health potions on the table. Last he checked, he didn’t have any potions or the means to make them.

Steadily becoming more and more confused, he stood up and tiptoed his way to a window, peaking through the blinds. Just like he thought, the sun was already on its way down. Had he only slept a few hours? That didn’t seem right, because as sore as he was, he felt rested. And besides, Alex had said she would return in the morning with potions and now it was afternoon and there were potions…

He made his way silently over to Herobrine. It was almost as fascinating seeing Herobrine asleep as it was seeing someone else in his house. He wondered if Herobrine was going to feel an ache in his neck when he woke up or claim such troubles didn’t bother him because he ‘wasn’t human.’

Smiling to himself, he reached out to wake the other but hesitated, then lowered his hand to a potion and took one instead. In all the time they had spent together, he had never seen Herobrine sleep or even rest. The man deserved some down time where he could relax and not tend to Steve’s health. Steve was a big boy, he could do it himself.

As he stepped away from the table and uncapped the potion, his stomach growled. Taking potions on an empty stomach was usually ill advised, even health potions, and he wasn’t feeling that bad—if he ignored his side—so reluctantly he capped the bottle and placed it on the counter in the kitchen portion of the house, moving over to his chests to see what he could scrounge up for…lunch? Dinner?

Regardless, it wasn’t looking too promising. He usually planned ahead when it came to food, but he had been too distracted by the Nether and the events that had happened to make sure he had enough. He bit his lip as he looked into the chest. He could probably just find an apple or two from a tree outside. His small farm might still be a viable option, granted no mobs—or people—had stomped all over it when he’d been gone. Apples and bread didn’t sound too bad...

With a sigh he closed the chest and turned around, only to jump and exclaim in fear when he saw Herobrine standing silently behind him.

“Gods man, how are you so good at that?” He said with a startled smile, a hand pressed over his racing heart. Herobrine just peered at him, looking adorably rumpled from sleep. Steve respectively didn’t mention anything.

“Sorry,” Herobrine eventually said. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“That’s alright—I’m definitely awake now, so thanks for that. I hope I didn’t wake you, I know how good your hearing is.”

Herobrine’s expression became unreadable. Steve’s own smile dimmed a bit at the odd look.

“What’s wrong?”

But then of course Herobrine just shook his head. “Nothing. How was your sleep?”

Steve wanted so badly to call out the abrupt subject change, but with the way Herobrine was acting, he didn’t want the man to get upset or annoyed at him, so he went along with it.

“I’m still sore, but I feel rested. How long was I out?”

Herobrine glanced out a window. “Almost a complete day.” His expression smoothed out into something neutral, though there was a small smile when he added, “I was starting to worry.” Yet despite that smile, he could tell that something was up. Herobrine wasn’t trying to hide it very well either, and though asking outright had not worked well in the past, he felt it necessary in this moment.

“Hey...are you okay?” And even though he asked, he didn’t expect Herobrine to answer truthfully.

For a moment it seemed like Herobrine wasn’t going to answer at all, but then he took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I did a lot of thinking while you slept.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He might as well try to be supportive even though he was 90% sure Herobrine would decline. To him it was worth asking.

“N—Not…right now. I just want to get my thoughts in order and adjust better to the Overworld. I’m sure I’ll feel better after a few more days.”

He’ll count that as a win. It’s much better than he’d been expecting, after all. “Okay. As long as you know I’m here for you.”

At least when Herobrine smiled this time it looked less forced. “I know you are. Thanks.”

Steve smiled back, but the moment was ruined when his stomach growled. He looked down with a chuckle. “Guess my stomach’s tired of being ignored.” He walked over to rifle through another chest, looking for a shirt. “I was going to look for some apples and check on my farm, care to help?”

”Just apples?”

Steve stood up and turned to look at Herobrine, frowning at the raised—and frankly judgmental—brow directed his way. “Well...apples are pretty easy to find—“

“You don’t have food?”

And of course Steve felt a little embarrassed when it was said so plainly. He stalled by putting on his shirt, wincing through the whole ordeal because of his side, but when he was done and could only smooth down his shirt so many times, he looked up but couldn’t meet Herobrine’s eyes because he didn’t have anything to say.

He already knew that he was...malnourished. He tried to eat as close to three meals a day as he could and spend time mining to keep his body fit, but it didn’t escape him that he ate too little. At this point in his life he had adjusted to that lifestyle, but he’d never given thought to what others might think of it. Truthfully he’d never expected there to be others.

“I see,” Herobrine stated, as Steve stood silently and kept his gaze averted, scratching nervously at the loosening bandage around his forearm. “In that case, stay here. I’ll go out and find something for you.”

“Are you sure—“

“Yes.”

Steve wanted to refute, but considering Herobrine’s stern expression, he reluctantly relented. “Okay.”

“Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Herobrine left and Steve sat at the table with a sigh. He noticed the two other potions and made a mental note to ask Herobrine about them when he got back.

After a few seconds he realized he was scratching at his arm bandages and stood up to find replacements. They’d come loose since the Nether and were no longer strong enough to stay wrapped around his arms. He tore them off and made a face at the state of the burns. His skin didn’t appear inflamed, which he was thankful for, but the burns themselves, the small collection of runes on the inside of his arm, were red and swollen. He made his way to the kitchen sink and ran his forearms under the cold spray. It felt amazing to the heated flesh of his arms, and when he was done he used a rag to pat them dry. Then he searched through his chests for the roll of bandage he was sure was around here somewhere...

“Ah ha!” He exclaimed to himself as he saw the bandages on the bedside table. The gold bracer was sitting there too. He’d completely forgotten about it. Herobrine must have removed it for him.

Now with bandages in hand, he went back over to the kitchen. The potion of healing was not the splash variant and therefore wouldn’t do much unless ingested, but it still wouldn’t hurt to apply some onto the burns. He needed all the help he could get.

By the time he was finishing up, Herobrine appeared in the room holding a dead chicken.

“Did you look at your farm?” Herobrine said without preamble, moving over to the counter and setting the chicken down. He looked around. “Do you have a garbage? And a knife?”

“Garbage is under the sink, knife in the drawer to your right. And no, I haven’t looked yet. I just finished replacing these bandages when you got back.”

Herobrine made a low sound, pulling the garbage out from under the sink and opening the drawer. “Go look. Anything that you can add to this will suffice.”

Steve smiled as Herobrine began the process of skinning the chicken. “Yes sir, I’ll get right on it.” He kept smiling to himself as he opened the door and walked outside. Herobrine could act like such a mom sometimes, but he found it funny and a little endearing.

The pale blue sky and fiery orange clouds promised sundown soon, but there was plenty of light to see his surroundings. Luckily his farm was intact, with no signs of griefing to the small plot. There was enough wheat to make a few loaves of bread and plenty of carrots he could have with the chicken tonight. Maybe he could make a stew with it. That sounded nice.

He gathered some wheat and carrots in his arms and turned to go back inside. As he did, he caught sight of the dark, empty portal frame. A shudder ran through him just thinking about the Nether and the Wither they’d escaped from. He hurried inside.

Herobrine was making quick work of the chicken, though he was sacrificing cleanliness for speed. Steve almost said something, but then he realized that they were going to leave soon. This might be the last night in his house, what did it matter if it got messy. He walked up next to Herobrine and placed the wheat and carrots on the counter.

“You think we can make a stew out of this?”

“Yes, but not within our time frame. You’ll have to settle for roasted chicken and carrots with bread. But it’s better than apples,” Herobrine answered with a scoff, as if Steve’s food choices personally offended him. Steve chose not to comment, considering Herobrine had gone out and gotten a chicken for him, and was currently doing all the dirty work to make it edible. Plus, he liked having someone care enough to get mad on his behalf about his living situation. Steve was just too tired to do anything about it at this point.

Steve made a face, picking up the wheat. “That’s okay. I would at least prefer to make the bread myself, but I don’t have any of the ingredients necessary.” He sighed. “Crafting table it is.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Herobrine asked. He had gotten a pan out at some point and was placing the prepared chicken onto it. The furnace was currently heating up, so Herobrine set the chicken aside and rinsed his hands clean of chicken blood, guts, and feathers.

Steve set the wheat on the crafting table, three pieces in a line, and let the table do its thing. “Oh, dude, once you have hand made bread, you’ll never want crafting table bread. It’s like eating cooked fish versus raw.”

Herobrine leaned back against the counter, raising a brow. “It can’t be that extreme of a difference.”

“Just wait til I make you some bread, then you’ll be changing your tune.”

“We’ll see about that. I’ll have you know I can be very stubborn about things.”

That made Steve laugh as he swiped the newly made bread from the crafting table. “No, you?”

Herobrine shrugged, a smile tugging at his mouth. “What can I say, it’s a gift.”

“If that’s what you want to call it...” Steve muttered, but of course Herobrine heard him. Thankfully Herobrine caught onto his joking tone and just smiled genuinely in response. Then he looked around, and suddenly the torches flickered to life. Steve stared at the nearest one in shock.

“Wha—Did you do that?”

“Yep.”

“Oh man, it must be so cool to have abilities like that,” he sighed, turning the bread over in his hands. After a few beats he added, “Minus the whole Nether thing of course.”

Herobrine snorted and turned to the furnace when it beeped. “Of course.”

Once he had the chicken cooking, he sliced the carrots and Steve got out a plate. He offered one to Herobrine but the man just shook his head and declined it. He opened his mouth to say something but Herobrine beat him to it.

“I’m not hungry. But I’ll eat when I am, I promise.”

“Hold on, let me get that in writing.”

“Ha ha.”

Once the chicken was nearing completion, Herobrine shooed him away to the table. He put up a token resistance, trying to claim it was his house and all that, but truthfully he was relieved to be sitting. His body was not as weak or exhausted as yesterday, but his side still hurt and overall he didn’t feel 100% yet. Hopefully a good meal and another full night’s sleep would help with that.

Herobrine set a plate absolutely full of chicken, carrots, and bread in front of him, and though his stomach growled in response, he knew he wouldn’t be able to eat it all. But he’d try his best. Herobrine sat across from him, having decided on a cup of water, and pushed one of the healing potions towards him.

As he ate, his gaze kept flicking to Herobrine’s face. He had noticed something off about it earlier, but now, with the torches lit, he could see exactly what was wrong. Or, in this case, what was no longer wrong.

“What happened to...” He gestured to Herobrine’s face. The man touched his cheek, over the scar.

“I have a passive regeneration ability. My wounds heal quick.”

“Yeah but, the next day? I don’t know, maybe the cut wasn’t as bad as it looked. I was kinda out of it yesterday at the end there.” He chuckled.

“Believe me, I noticed.”

Steve felt a bit of heat spread across his cheeks as he ducked his head, focusing on eating. “Thanks for yesterday. And sorry for passing out on you.”

“How are you, by the way?”

Steve poked at the chicken, wondering how the topic had changed back to him so quickly. But he knew that if he called it out, Herobrine would become defensive or annoyed, and he didn’t want that to happen. So he answered honestly.

“I’m starting to feel tired again, but it’s a normal kinda tired. I probably won’t sleep for a whole day again.”

“That would be for the best. And I know you don’t want to think about it, but we should really discuss what we’re gonna do.”

Steve swallowed nervously. Just the mention of it was making his stomach cramp with dread. “Yeah, I know.” But instead his gaze landed on the potion bottles and he was reminded of what he was going to ask. “What’s with the potions? Did Alex come by?”

“In the morning, yeah. We had a brief discussion and she left the potions, promising to come back later. She said sundown so she should be here any moment.”

Steve looked out the window. The sky was darkening as the sun dipped below the horizon. He sighed again, looking back at his meal. He had eaten more than he’d expected but he was getting full and he didn’t want to over do it. He pushed some carrots around with his fork.

“How did your conversation go with her?”

Herobrine made a face and Steve smiled. “That’s honestly how I was expecting it to go.”

“She’s...I don’t think abrasive is the right word but...well you know how she is I’m sure.”

“Yeah. She’s just sure of herself. It might be hard for you two to get along because you’re so similar.”

“We’ll see. Are you going to ask her to join us?”

Steve bit his lip. He just didn’t know. He didn’t want to leave his house, he didn’t want to be weary of Alex, he didn’t want to have to make these decisions. He just wanted to live a peaceful life. But ultimately her company could only help them.

“I think so. She’s pretty dedicated to her village, but I could at least try. We’d have a much better time at villages if she joined us. Not only can she blend in seamlessly with them but she’s super social.”

Herobrine made a sound of acknowledgement but didn’t comment further. Steve finally pushed his meal away and reached for a potion. “Thank you for the chicken. You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Herobrine shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t mind. Gives me something to do.”

“Well, regardless, I really appreciate it.” He offered Herobrine a smile before uncapping the potion and downing the whole thing in one go. It had a slight metallic but mostly watermelon taste. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the potion work its magic. He was relieved not to feel an ache along his side. His body also felt stronger. He typically preferred regeneration potions over potions of healing but they sure had a kick to them. He wondered if they were regular or healing II.

Steve refused to let Herobrine clean up after dinner considering he’d made it so Herobrine slouched in the chair and crossed his ankle over his knee, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the table while Steve put the food away and wiped down the counter. He put the potions on his bedside table to better remember to pack them.

He had just sat down when there was a knock at the door. He groaned but Herobrine stood. “I’ll get it.”

Well Steve wasn’t going to argue with that, nor was Herobrine going to give him a choice as he walked over to the door and opened it.

“Look at that, you do know how to properly greet people.”

Herobrine glared at Alex as she walked past him. “You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope.” She made the ‘p’ really pop as she winked at Steve. “Hey man, how’re you holding up? You look a little better today.”

“I am, thanks to your potions. You always come through for me.”

She waved his gratitude away. “Of course, it’s the least I can do.”

He felt so lucky to have her, and ashamed that he had automatically assumed that she would sell him out. What kind of friend did that make him?

“And thanks for coming back. Sorry I missed you earlier.”

“Nah it’s alright. You looked like you needed the sleep.” She sat across from him at the table and Herobrine leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

Alex did not at all subtly glance over at Herobrine. “Care to explain tall, dark, and brooding over there?”

Herobrine’s glare intensified as Steve rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. Where did he even start.

“Well, you know, I just happened to run into him in the Nether.”

She raised a brow. “Uh huh. You know most people don’t befriend the cryptids they meet, right?”

“But he’s not a cryptid, he’s…” When he paused a little too long—because Herobrine totally was a cryptid—she cut in.

“You’re not about to say ‘misunderstood,’ are you? That’s how every cryptid story starts.”

He made a vague affirmative gesture and gave a half shrug. She shook her head with a smile. “Only you Steven.” Then she eyed Herobrine. “Although, even for you, this is pretty out there, I mean…” She leaned forward and cupped a hand around her mouth to block Herobrine’s vision. “That’s Herobrine!” She fake whispered, not trying to be silent at all.

“I can hear everything you’re saying,” Herobrine finally mentioned, sounding irritated. It was impressive how much his mood had declined with Alex’s presence. She usually had the opposite effect on people.

Alex leaned back and laughed as if embarrassed at getting caught. “Oh, is that so? I had no idea. I’m sorry dear.”

Herobrine growled but chose not to comment. Steve smiled at the exchange but his heart wasn’t in it and Alex picked up on that immediately.

“Alright what’s up? You’ve been a bit mopey since I got here.”

Damn, of course she noticed. Eyes of a fucking hawk.

“I just…have a lot going on,” he admitted. “Whoever B-Blake worked for or with, they came to find me, in the Nether. If things hadn’t gone the way they had, I—I’d probably be dead right now.” He could barely force out Blake’s name, and just the mention of it set his heart racing in his chest. He looked up when he heard a creak from the kitchen area. Herobrine no longer had his arms crossed, instead he had his hands curled around the countertop, apparently oblivious as the stone cracked under the pressure of his grip.

“Oh Steve…I’m so sorry.” She reached across the table and settled her hand over his, squeezing in comfort.

He squeezed back, mustering a smile for her. “We need to leave. The sooner the better. I know that whoever those people are, they know I live here. If they were willing to go to the Nether to get to me, I don’t see why they wouldn’t come here. So we’re leaving, probably tomorrow. But, I wanted to ask if…if you’d consider, maybe…joining us?”

Her eyes went wide. “Joining you? Oh, um…”

“I know you like your village, I knew it would be a long shot asking but I thought I might anyway, you know, just in case.” It was his turn to squeeze her hand, though this time in encouragement. “We would have a hell of a lot easier time if you were with us.” He laughed a little but inside his heart was pounding in anticipation. He could already see it in her face, she was going to turn him down, she was—

“Oh, what the hell. Okay.”

What?

“What?” He and Herobrine both said at the same time.

“You will?” He asked, not daring to hope but she smiled warmly at him, pulling away to stand up.

“That was a fast decision,” Herobrine observed. He had taken to standing with his arms crossed again and had resumed glaring. Steve was mildly alarmed that they wouldn’t get along after all.

Alex just gave Herobrine a flat look. “Oh I’m sorry, were you expecting me to say no? Now I’m going to third wheel so hard, you’re gonna wish I had.”

Steve’s face instantly reddened at that implication but Herobrine’s glare just lessened in his confusion. Thankfully Alex didn’t give the man time to question her as she looked back at Steve.

“Give me tonight to get my things in order and I’ll meet you back here in the morning.”

He stood up as well to walk her to the door. “I can’t thank you enough Alex.”

“Just wait until tomorrow,” she said with a cheeky smile and a wink. “I’ve got a little something for you that you’re gonna love. I had been wanting to give it to you for a while so this is the perfect opportunity.”

“Oh?” He asked, as he opened the door for her and she stepped outside. “A surprise?”

“Yep. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “How will I manage to sleep through the night?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” She turned around and then paused, looking back at him over her shoulder. “Maybe you can find some way to ‘tire yourself out’—“ and she wagged her eyebrows along with her words, “—if you’re having trouble sleeping.”

His face instantly flushed red and he could only hope that she couldn’t tell in the low light of the night. “Goodnight Alex.”

She laughed as she walked away, disappearing into the trees. He shut the door and turned, taking a deep breath and then smiling at Herobrine. “Well that went well.”

Herobrine just huffed. “She is...certainly interesting.”

Maybe there was hope yet. “In a good way?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“I guess that’s as good as I can hope for,” Steve accepted.

Herobrine—who was noticeably less tense now that Alex had left—took a seat at the table and watched while Steve went about his normal bedtime routine. He was all too happy to remove the bandages around his arms and waist, pleased to see the brands had lost their angry redness and the slash on his side was just another addition to the many scars he’d already collected over his short life. He was tired but it felt natural, and nothing hurt for the moment. Things were already looking up.

Once he was prepared for bed, he was about to go around and douse the torches but paused to look at Herobrine. The man was staring out the window and absentmindedly scratching lightly at the table. Steve followed his gaze but couldn’t see anything save the Nether portal frame.

“Herobrine?”

For a moment it seemed like the other didn’t hear him, but then he turned his head to look over. “Hm?”

“Do you need something? Like, a blanket or...?”

Herobrine was already shaking his head by the time he trailed off. “No, I’m fine.” He looked back out the window. “I think I’m going to go out and collect more food for our journey.”

Steve felt apprehensive about the strange way Herobrine was acting. He was distracted again. It wasn’t the first time Steve had noticed it either, which was a bad sign, he decided. But he didn’t know why or how to approach talking about it.

“That’s a good idea.” He gestured to the torch he was next to even though Herobrine wasn’t looking at him. “Do you mind if I blow out the torches?”

“No, go ahead.”

He did, feeling conflicted, but he remained silent as he went around the room until all the torches were out, plunging them into darkness. He crawled into bed and looked over at Herobrine, who was still staring outside, only visible by the faint glow his eyes emitted.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly.

“Goodnight Steve.”

Steve closed his eyes, feeling almost sick to his stomach with sudden worry, and waited for sleep to claim him.

Chapter Text

The fire was spreading far too quickly to contain, engulfing the entire village before measures could be taken to stop it. And between the fire and the raid, any resistance fizzled into nothing.

Despite being told to stay inside, Steve was forced to run out of his house to escape the fire. Smoke hung heavily in the air, clogging his lungs and making his eyes water. He fell onto his hands and knees, coughing roughly.

“M-Mom!” He called, wiping his eyes and looking around frantically. “Dad!”

The village was in chaos. Illagers and mobs were everywhere. The fire roared and raged and he could hear screaming from human and mob alike. His breath hitched when he saw the bodies littering the ground. He looked away hurriedly, shaken, and staggered to his feet.

Part of him was screaming to stay by his house, that surely his parents would come back for him, but the greater part of him needed to see them now, to make sure they were okay. They had to be.

The longer he ran—past Illagers helping the fire destroy the buildings, past zombies feasting on dead bodies—the worse the dread that sat heavily in his stomach became. He felt physically nauseous from it.

One moment he was running through the streets, the next he was kneeling in the village square, hovering over the dead bodies of his parents, the image of his mother’s glazed, dead stare and his father’s decapitated body forever seared into his brain. The square was the only part of the village not affected by the fire—even the smoke was being kept away. But none of that mattered to Steve as he stared unblinking at his worst nightmare.

Between one blink and the next, the fire, the village, the bodies, it all disappeared, replaced by an empty, dark void of nothingness. In the sudden silence, his breathing was loud and labored to his own ears. He strained to see or hear anything in the endless expanse of blackness.

Before he could even think to do anything, a heavy force hit him in the back and sent him crashing to the ground. His head ached as it made impact and he squeezed his eyes shut, wincing. The weight on his back increased suddenly, feeling like a knee pressing directly into his spine and making him shout in pain, before it lifted. He was left laying there panting, trying to suck air into his lungs, when he felt hot breath at the base of his neck, making him shudder in fear.

His mind was yelling at him to run, to try and get up and escape, but his body was content laying there and attempt to refill his lungs, refusing to listen.

He squinted open his eyes when he felt hands on him, turning him onto his back. Once he saw what had been pinning him down, pure terror engulfed him.

It was that strange, savage mob that had attacked him in the Nether.

Its blazing purple eyes were bright as it screeched into his face. He cried out in fear, trying to push it away from him. He was struck by an all-encompassing need to get away from this thing, a feeling so strong his heart physically ached from it.

The creature batted his hands away and wasted no time in wrapping its own hands around his throat and squeezing. He scratched at the creature’s face as he felt his body starting to shut down from lack of air. The gasping breaths he was reduced to did nothing to fill his stuttering lungs, sending panic through him. His head felt light and his chest burned.

When he felt something wet land onto his face, he cracked open his eyes.

The creature was gone, and in its place was Herobrine. His face was twisted in anger and covered with bleeding scratch marks that dripped onto Steve’s face.

“My life was fine before I met you,” he hissed, and then his image flickered to that of the creature, back and forth until it was so quick it was difficult to make sense of. A second voice overlapped with Herobrine’s, one that was familiar but he couldn’t place. “Everything’s that happened is your fault!”

”Steve?”

The ground gave a sudden, violent shake. The creature did not notice or was unaffected as it leaned over him more, its grip still strong.

“Steve, wake up.”

The shaking intensified. The body on top of him leaned down, its face frozen into a furious snarl. Even after realizing he was in a dream, the fear still sat heavily in his heart. His vision started to fade to black and he desperately hoped it was because he was waking up and not passing out from suffocation.

Just before he faded completely, he saw the being’s face flicker to Herobrine’s as it hissed out, “You should have been the one to die that night.”

When he awoke with a gasp and bolted upright in his bed, hand flying to his throat, he could hear a familiar, haunting laugh echoing in the back of his mind.

Alex was standing beside him, staring at him in concern. Steve stared back at her, heart racing and breathing heavily, then looked to the window on his other side. Bright, clear light of morning.

He took a deep breath and looked back over at her. “Alex, what…”

“You were acting like you were being murdered in your sleep or something.” Her tone was joking, but he could tell she was holding back, clearly concerned. He watched as her gaze dropped to his hand pressed to his throat before flicking back up to his face. “Are you okay?”

No, definitely not, he thought, but just took a deep breath and shook his head, lowering his hand. It was shaking so he clenched it around the blanket to still it. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Don’t even remember what I was dreaming about.” Which was a lie, because he remembered his parent’s dead bodies and being choked nearly to death and what he thought was the Wither’s laugh. And the fire. But it was nothing she needed to worry about, he’d be fine after a while. Always was.

She didn’t look convinced but didn’t question his statement, which he was grateful for. “Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

He let out a breath, finally relaxing as his heart rate returned to normal. He scrubbed at his face and then smiled tiredly at her. “Thanks. But really, I’m fine.”

She stepped away, moving to the dining table, and Steve got up and stretched. Gods, it felt wonderful not to be in pain for once. These last few weeks had been nothing but painful for him, though something in him told him it wasn’t going to get any easier.

As he looked around the house, he realized instantly that Herobrine was not there. Something like dread made his heart sink. “Where’s Herobrine?” He tried to keep his voice even.

Alex looked up. Steve only now noticed the large box sitting on his table in front of her.

“He’s…well…” She looked to the side. Steve followed her gaze.

Herobrine was sitting propped up against a tree across from the house, both hands pressed to his face.

“What happened?” He wanted to go out there and make sure Herobrine was okay, but his dream flashed in his mind and stilled him. He could so clearly see the rage on Herobrine’s face. It was something he didn’t want to see directed his way ever again.

“I don’t know for sure, but when I got here he was…well, he wasn’t doing so hot,” Alex started. “He was on edge, jumping at any little sound or movement but at the same time, I had trouble getting his attention. We talked for a bit but he kept looking at the Nether portal frame, like, really intensely,” she stressed. She turned back to the box but Steve kept his gaze trained outside. It was bad that Herobrine was getting distracted by the portal frame. Was the Wither able to contact him somehow? Did being near the portal affect him? He thought about how distant Herobrine had seemed yesterday and felt uneasy.

He looked down at Alex, taking a deep breath, and finally took notice of the box.

“What’s this?” He asked, trying to sound interested and not on the verge of a freak out. Couldn’t things just be easy for once?

She glanced at him with a smile, opening the box so he could see its contents. “It’s that surprise I told you about last night. Surprise!”

Steve smiled at her and inspected it. For a moment he struggled to realize what he was looking at, even when he lifted the top piece up and turned it over in his hands.

It was a leather chestplate, modified with pieces of chainmail. Looking into the box, he realized it was an entire set of leather and chainmail armor. But what was probably meant to be the actual surprise was the shiny, glimmering glow of enchantment on each piece. He didn’t quite know how to feel considering it was leather armor—chainmail or not—but with the enchantments, well—they could make iron better than diamond, so he shouldn’t be so quick to judge.

He looked at her with wide eyes. “Is…this for me?” He asked in awe. Enchanted armor or weapons were well beyond his reach and he never would have expected such an extravagant gift.

Her smile was so wide her cheeks must have hurt as she practically vibrated with excitement. “Yes. And I know it’s just leather, but hear me out alright? This bad boy—“ and she slapped the box “—is on par with iron and about a thousand times more maneuverable and breathable, plus you can change the color, which, I mean, come on, that’s all I need to say right? But yeah, it’s also got maxed out enchantments, I spared no expense.” She looked at him expectantly and Steve could only stare in incredulity between the armor and her.

“Alex…this is…” He shook his head, unable to articulate his thoughts. He could count the number of gifts he’d ever received in his life on one hand and this easily blew all the others out of the water. A decked out enchanted set of leather and chainmail armor? It must have cost her a fortune.

“Amazing, I know,” she said smugly. “You don’t have to say it.”

“Alex I—I-I can’t accept this.” He put the chestplate back into the box. It was an amazing gift, but he didn’t deserve it. With his luck it would get ruined or the enchantments would mysteriously stop working.

She looked up at him sharply, almost angry. “Sorry, uh, what? Yes you can. You will.”

“No, it—it’s too much. You didn’t have to do this for me.” It was a little awkward, but he felt equally uncomfortable rejecting the gift as he did accepting it.

She crossed her arms and snorted, leaning back in the chair. “Yeah well too late buddy, it’s yours now. I already have a set of armor to wear and I don’t think Mr. Beefcake out there is gonna fit into it or even want to wear it, so, you’re stuck with it.” She glared at him. “Don’t think I won’t knock you out and shove you into it myself.”

The gratitude he felt was too intense to express. He smoothed his fingers down the front of the chestplate, watching the gleam of the enchantment catch the light. It was much too fancy for him despite being leather and he still didn’t truly want to wear it—some insecure part of him screaming that he was undeserving—but she had a point, because of course she did. He let out a breath, feel overwhelmed with emotion as he smiled at her.

“Thank you. You can’t begin to understand how much this means to me.”

She seemed to realize just what he meant as her expression smoothed out into something more sincere. “You’re welcome. I figured you might need a set that could last a little longer than iron. I’ve noticed that you always seem to have a new set of iron armor everytime I see you.” She smiled in amusement and he blushed a little. He’d noticed that problem too, though it wasn’t necessarily a durability issue. She continued, “And I have a set just like this one that I absolutely love for travel or day to day stuff. So I had one made for you, so you have to wear it.”

He chuckled. “I suppose I can’t argue with that logic. I’ll just have to suffer through wearing it.”

She raised a brow. “‘Suffer?’ Your gonna feel invincible when you put it on. I haven’t even told you what enchantments are on it yet.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, I mean it is still just leather armor, enchanted or not.”

“Yeah yeah, semantics. Just put it on.”

He shot her an amused and somewhat confused smile, closing the box and hauling it up to take to the bathroom. “I don’t think that means—“

“Blah blah I don’t care, just go try it on already!”

“Alright, alright, I’m going! I just woke up, let me have a moment.”

She grumbled something to herself as he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. After going through his morning routine and changing into clean clothes, he finally opened the box and admired the armor properly.

Like she’d mentioned, each piece was flexible in a way iron armor never could be. He had worn leather armor before but mostly broken or ragged pieces he’d been able to lift off mobs or found discarded outside villages. Those sets never lasted long, then when he was able to establish a home for himself and find the time to mine for iron, using leather just seemed obsolete to him. Basic iron was better than basic leather and he was around a lot of mobs when exploring or caving. But Alex was right—even enchanted leather could be just as good or better than iron, depending on the enchantments.

He started with the legs, fixing the cuisse over his thighs and tightening the straps around the back until the armor hugged his legs nicely. A layer of chainmail adorned the front of both pieces. Next he settled the greaves into place and tightened them down as well. They too had chainmail along the front. Leather armor didn’t have as much total, natural protection as the metal sets because it didn’t typically protect the back of the wearer’s body, but whoever had made this set had added a bit of extra leather to the tops of the greaves, allowing it to act as a poleyn and protect his knees. With the leg armor done, he snapped the pieces of leather that acted as sabatons for each shoe into place.

He made a face at the chestplate, when he held it up again. It was a bit shorter than he would have preferred, protecting his chest and shoulder blades but leaving his midriff and lower back exposed, but there wasn’t anything that could be done about it now. He slipped it over his head and pulled it into place. At least the style of the armor allowed for maximum flexibility.

Next came the rerebraces, which he slipped onto each arm and latched onto the chestplate on either side. Then he affixed the smooth pauldrons into place, hooking them into the corresponding locations on both the chestplate and the rerebraces.

There was no helmet curiously, instead a dark brown cloak lay at the bottom of the box. He picked it up and shook it out, shocked to see that telltale glow of enchantment, albeit faded more so than the armor itself. He tied the cloak into place on the chestplate, completing the set.

He admired himself in the mirror. He wasn’t vain and typically didn’t care about his appearance too much, but he could admit to himself that the formfitting leather armor didn’t look bad, especially with the various chainmail accents in strategic places. It looked better than bulky iron, in any case. Plus, as Alex had mentioned, the set could still be dyed. And he himself looked more rested than before, with only a slight darkness under his eyes. He touched his cheeks, making a face. He would probably have to shave soon.

Satisfied, he stepped out of the bathroom and immediately blushed when Alex wolf whistled. “Lookin’ good! I sure know how to pick ‘em, don’t I?”

He walked up to the table and set the empty box down, his smile fading a bit. The excitement was quickly wearing off as unease from his dream and Herobrine’s odd behavior prickled at the back of his mind. But he tried to seem enthused, returning a smile to his face in a hopefully convincing manner.

“It’s an amazing set. Though, why the cloak?” 

“Well, it didn’t come with a helmet and there weren’t any available at the time, so I figured a cloak would at least function to keep your face hidden, if that ever needed to happen. Which, all things considered, would probably be all the time we were ever around others, so…” She trailed off, shrugging. It made as much sense as anything though, so Steve just nodded.

“That seems reasonable.” He looked around his house. “I guess that means I’m pretty much ready to go. Just need to pack a bag real quick.” Despite what he had told Herobrine when they had first talked about the possibility leaving, he felt the tiniest bit sad about it. His houses were never homes, but they were all he had. He tried not to live without some sort of base for too long, so it was going to be weird being on the move for the foreseeable future. But looking at Alex and then Herobrine outside, he didn’t think he could ask for better traveling companions.

“Awesome. We’ll need to stop by my village real quick so I can grab my armor and bag, but then I’m ready too.” She kicked her feet up on the table, putting her hands behind her head and jerking it towards Herobrine outside. “What about him?”

He almost said something about her dirty shoes on the table he ate at, but remembered he was leaving and probably never coming back, so he let it go. “He’s ready. He doesn’t have anything to take, at least not in the Overworld.” Steve went around his house, grabbing a pack and stuffing anything that might be useful into it. Torches, coal, emeralds. He opened the last chest and found the books Alex had given him when he’d asked about Herobrine. Gods, that felt like a lifetime ago. He packed those as well, more curious now about how much was right and wondering if Herobrine would want to read them at all.

Alex made a sound of acknowledgement, then perked up suddenly. “Oh! One thing I did want to ask about is when I was talking to Herobrine earlier—well, when I was trying to—I found out that he’s been in the Nether all this time?”

“That’s right,” Steve confirmed, not really paying attention. Was there anything else he needed? He looked around the house slowly, spotting the bracer and the two potions on his bedside table. He knew he was forgetting something.

“Then why are there so many rumors about him in the Overworld?”

Steve paused, midway to reaching for the potions, and turned his head to look at her. He opened his mouth but realized that she was right—why were there so many rumors about him?

“That’s…a good question. I don’t know to be honest.” He resumed his task, stuffing the potions into his pack and slipping the bracer on. It didn’t really serve a purpose and being gold would not hold up well in a fight, but Herobrine had given it to him and he liked it.

“It’s super weird, right? Like, if he really was in the Nether this whole time, it wouldn’t make sense for people to know about him. I mean, people know his name.” She shot him a knowing look. “Something’s up with that.”

Steve shifted his gaze to Herobrine outside. Adelaide’s face flashed in his mind and he felt his heart sink again. It had not crossed his mind once that knowing about Herobrine his entire life should have been impossible if the man was in the Nether for 200 years. So how had those rumors started? How did the Overworld still remember Herobrine’s name?

“I hadn’t thought about that,” he said, almost as an afterthought. He looked at Alex and sighed, offering her a grim smile. “Just one more mystery to add to the list.”

“You can say that again.” She suddenly slammed her hands against the table and stood up, beaming at him. Her mood shift threatened to give him whiplash as he blinked in surprise at her. “Alright, ready? Gotta tell you, since yesterday I’ve been thinking about this nonstop. I mean, I adventure a little, you know, in my free time, but this is well beyond anything I’ve attempted. The thrill of it is…” She trailed off, grinning at him. “You know?”

Well, her enthusiasm was a good sign. One of them had to see things on the bright side, considering this was less of an adventure for Steve and more about staying alive.

“Yes, I know,” he chuckled, hiking his pack onto his shoulder and gesturing to the door. “After you.”

Stepping outside, he took a deep breath, lifting his face to the sky and closing his eyes to enjoy the warm sun. As much as he had been hyped about adventuring in the Nether, nothing would ever top the warmth and light of the Overworld.

Herobrine looked up when he and Alex approached. Steve frowned when Herobrine’s gaze drifted immediately to the empty portal frame. It was worrying that he was so fixated on it.

Steve was still hesitant to say something, but he couldn’t in good conscious ignore this behavior. “Herobrine?”

He turned his head a little, showing he’d heard Steve, but kept his eyes trained on the portal frame. After several seconds, he finally acknowledged that Steve had spoken to him. “Hm?”

“Are you…okay?”

Herobrine didn’t say anything, just kept staring to the side. That dreadful feeling Steve had had since yesterday weighed heavily on his heart as he turned to Alex. “Can you give us a moment?”

She blinked. “Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll just…” She trailed off, gesturing over her shoulder and walking to the other side of the clearing, giving him and Herobrine some privacy.

Steve looked down at Herobrine and took a deep breath. He was way out of his comfort zone, but something was wrong and he wanted to help. If Herobrine would let him.

Hesitant, as if dealing with a wild animal, he knelt in front of Herobrine. The man had been calm recently, but his dream—Herobrine’s rage filled face—flashed again across the forefront of his mind. He lifted his hand, unsure what, exactly, he should do, but his hand was shaking again, trembling as his heart rate suddenly increased. He clenched it into a fist and lowered it, taking a deep breath. There wasn’t anything to be scared about. He was fine. His dream had been just that—it wasn’t real.

When he focused again, coming out of his thoughts, he startled a bit when he saw Herobrine staring at him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and Steve couldn’t keep the surprise off his face.

“What…what makes you think something’s wrong?”

Something interesting happened to Herobrine’s expression. Steve couldn’t make sense of it fully, except to recognize that Herobrine was uncomfortable for some reason. It only cemented Steve’s suspicion that Herobrine was hiding something. But his expression never turned angry, so Steve held out hope that he would finally open up, even just a bit.

“I—“ Herobrine started to say something but cut himself off, looking again to the portal frame. Only this time, he seemed to realize what he was doing. Steve could see the realization of it on his face.

“I can hear your heart beating.”

Steve furrowed his brows, thinking maybe he’d misheard. “What?”

Herobrine swallowed and managed to look away from the portal frame. It took effort, that much was obvious, which Steve didn’t like to see. Nor did he like to see the grimace of discomfort on Herobrine’s face.

“I knew something was wrong just now because I heard your heart rate increase.”

“You…” Steve trailed off, slumping onto his heels and staring at Herobrine with his mouth hanging open. That…wasn’t normal.

“I can hears yours, and Alex’s. I can sense mobs nearby, whether they’re on the surface or in a cave below us.” Herobrine looked down at his hands. “I can control them, if I want to, even thought they’re not Nether mobs. And I feel great. Better than great. I feel like I could do anything and no one could stop me.” When he looked at Steve, his face was anything but happy about it.

“I don’t understand,” Steve said quietly, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I have never felt this good,” Herobrine answered. He looked down at his hands again, balling them into fists over and over. “I would be thrilled if it didn’t feel so…wrong.”

Steve felt even less prepared to have this conversation, even though it was what he wanted. But, all things considered, feeling really good wasn’t the worst thing that could be happening to Herobrine right now.

“Do you know why?”

Herobrine made a frustrated sound and looked over at the portal frame again. Shit, that’s not what Steve wanted to happen.

“No. I’ve spent all night wondering and it’s starting to piss me off.”

Steve could do nothing to prevent the way his heart started beating faster, his damn dream coming to mind again. He tried to push the images away, to ignore the echo of terror, but Herobrine noticed anyway. At least his attention was pulled from the portal.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer but the words were stuck. The lump in his throat sent instant fear down his spine as the concern on Herobrine’s face was replaced by the twisted rage from his dream and breathing became difficult. He could feel the phantom hands on his neck and though he knew it wasn’t real, his body was convinced he was back in that darkness being choked to death.

Hands grabbed his arms and started shaking him. Just like his dream unraveling, he snapped out of it, coming back to himself with a gasp to see Alex kneeling in front of him. 

“You good?” She asked, more out of courtesy. He was sure it was obvious that he wasn’t.

“Y-Yeah,” he stuttered, slumping onto the ground as Alex released his arms and scooted back a bit to give him some space. “Sorry.”

“Uh huh.” Alex stood and put her hands on her hips. She glanced behind her at Herobrine, who Steve noticed was staring at the ground and frowning, before shaking her head. “I thought I would only have to deal with one basket case but it turns out I have two.” She sighed, then held out a hand. Steve accepted it and allowed her to pull him up, unable to keep the blush off his face. Of course she wasn’t wrong. With how screwed up he and Herobrine were right now, they were lucky to have someone like Alex around.

“Sorry,” he said again, rubbing his arm nervously, but Alex just dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t worry about it. Just, as long as you remember we can talk about it.”

Steve nodded. “I will. Promise.”

Alex smiled then clapped her hands together. “Well!” She turned to address Herobrine too. “This has been fun, but I’d really like to get going. You boys good to go?”

Steve nodded but Herobrine didnt say anything. He glanced at the portal, but quickly managed to pull his gaze away to nod at Alex as well.

“Yes.”

“Awesome. Then let’s go.”

Alex turned around and headed toward the trees in the direction of her village. Herobrine bent down to grab a pack Steve had not noticed before. Herobrine hiked it over his shoulder and addressed his curiosity.

“I went out and found some food,” Herobrine said, starting to follow Alex. Steve grabbed his pack, which had fallen off his shoulder at some point, and adjusted it back into place, rushing to match Herobrine’s stride.

“Oh? How’d that go?”

“Better than I thought it might,” Herobrine answered with a sigh. “The Overworld’s changed a lot since the last time I was here. But I was able to find some fruits and vegetables. I figured I would just find the meat as needed.” He shrugged.

“How is it? Seeing the Overworld again?”

Whatever he expected Herobrine’s reaction to be, it wasn’t for the man to frown. Steve decided he didn’t like seeing a frown on Herobrine’s face, no matter the cause.

“I don’t know how to feel about it, truthfully.” He looked up, taking a deep breath. “When I picture the Overworld in my head, what’s here now is nothing like I remember. Don’t get me wrong, this Overworld is amazing, but it still feels like a fake, like…like I’m dreaming and when I wake up I’ll be back in the Nether.”

Hearing that sent a pang through his heart as Herobrine’s words from his dream came to mind. My life was fine before I met you. His mind warred with itself, trying to convince him that couldn’t possibly be true, but he could so clearly see the anger, hear the hatred, and though he knew it was only a dream, he couldn’t help but wonder if Herobrine did feel that way, even if just a bit. Steve had gone to the Nether and basically upended Herobrine’s entire life. And despite knowing the scope of the situation revolving around the reason why Herobrine had been in the Nether in the first place, he was starting to doubt all the decisions he’d made that had lead them to this point. What if Herobrine was regretting leaving? What if that was why he stared at the portal frame so much? Did he want to go back? It made Steve feel awful. He couldn’t remember ever asking if it was truly what Herobrine wanted, because everything had been happening so far out of his control that he was focused on solving his own problems while ignoring Herobrine’s. Did Herobrine resent him? Did—

A hard pinch to his arm made him flinch, but it worked to quickly pull him out of his thoughts and see Herobrine staring at him with a peculiar expression of frustration and concern.

“Seriously, what’s wrong? You were fine when you were talking to Alex, but this is the second time you’ve had some kind of…I don’t know, panic attack while talking to me. So what is it?” He crossed his arms and though Steve could tell he was trying to keep his expression neutral, he thought he could make out a hint of an accusatory glare. But he just looked down, avoiding the piercing gaze of Herobrine’s eyes altogether.

He opened his mouth. Maybe it would be okay to mention something. If he wanted Herobrine to be able to confide in him, Steve would have to be able to return the favor. But the words, when he attempted to speak, refused to come.

“Hey, what are you guys doing back there?” Alex called. She must have just realized they weren’t following her anymore. Steve felt embarrassed that he was letting his dream effect him this much. He’d had nightmares before and gotten over them easily enough. Why was this one any different?

Herobrine continued to stare at him, waiting for him to say something to either him or Alex, but when it became clear that he wasn’t, Herobrine answered for them.

“Just go on ahead, we’ll catch up.”

Steve didn’t hear whatever Alex said in response. His mind kept cycling between wanting to tell Herobrine the truth of his dream and wanting to question Herobrine’s decision to stay with him. He knew deep down that telling the truth was the right thing to do, but now that the thought of Herobrine going along with him because be felt obligated or forced to somehow sat heavy and sour in his gut. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.

Making a snap decision, he managed to look Herobrine in the eye. “Do you even want to come with us?”

Herobrine was clearly taken aback by his question, the frustration wiped clean by pure surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Inexplicably, Steve felt a wave of frustration crash over him. “Is this what you want? To wander the Overworld aimlessly for who-knows-how-long? I don’t want you to think that you have some kind of obligation to stay with me. If you want to go back to the Nether—“

“Wait, what? What the hell are you talking about?” The surprise was wearing off, a bit of incredulity seeping into Herobrine’s expression and tone. It only fueled the frustration Steve felt—at Herobrine for being so dense and at himself for being so selfish.

“You’ve been staring at the portal. Noticeably. I saw it yesterday, Alex saw it today. You’re distracted by it, like you’re constantly lost in thought. But you won’t talk about it, and I get it, you don’t have to, but if you want to go back, if—if that’s why you won’t talk about it, I just want you to know that it’s okay—“

“It’s not okay,” Herobrine interrupted, less frustrated and more confused as he stared at Steve with wide eyes. “Why would I want to go back? My life sucked in there.”

It was Steve’s turn to be surprised. Even though he already knew that Herobrine’s life had been less than ideal, he hadn’t expected the man to say it so plainly.

He furrowed his brows. “Then why…” Why have you been staring at the portal? Why are you so distracted? Why do you seem unhappy?

Herobrine guessed at what he was going to say. “Why was I staring at the portal?”

Almost sheepishly—not trusting his voice—he nodded.

Herobrine let out a breath, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. Seeing that, the frustration evaporated. “Because it was whispering to me. It has a draw to it, presumably from the Wither. I kept staring because resisting the draw was becoming taxing. But it wasn’t powerful enough to lure me to it, just keep my attention.”

Steve felt the instant embarrassment send blood to his entire face as he gaped at Herobrine. “O-Oh,” he said dumbly.

Herobrine chuckled. “Yeah. Oh.” But then some of the mirth faded as he studied Steve’s face. “Did you really think I wanted to go back?”

Steve swallowed nervously, looking away now that his resolve had left him. “I just…I realized that I never asked. I never asked if this is what you wanted.”

Herobrine remained silent for several moments. Steve could feel his gaze but he wasn’t looking up so he didn’t know what face Herobrine was making. When the man finally did speak, his voice was soft but sure.

“This is a thousand times better than what I had. Even if we’re on the run forever, we’ll be running in the Overworld. And it may not be the one I remember, but it’s the one I have now. And, believe me, I’d be gone if I wanted to be.” Since Steve was looking down he could see Herobrine’s hand raise, but he still wasn’t prepared to feel it settle on his shoulder.

“And even if I didn’t want to be with you—“ Steve’s heart did a flip, “—I wouldn’t be able to rest knowing that there are others like me. And I’m most likely to see them again if I stick around you, so, you’re stuck with me.”

It was like a weight being lifted off his chest. Hearing Herobrine say that he wanted to stay—the pure relief nearly stole his breath away. He mustered up the courage to look up and blushed at the small but undeniably soft smile on Herobrine’s face. He stared at it transfixed, wanting to sear it into his brain and forget the conjured anger from his dream.

After several moments Steve realized he was standing there like an idiot staring at Herobrine’s mouth and practically flinched backwards, slipping out from under his hand in the process. Herobrine’s smile shifted from soft to a knowing kind of amused.

Steve cleared his throat, hurrying to change the subject back to the original topic. He felt better, but he still wanted to tell Herobrine about his dream.

“I’m glad you feel that way. And I’m sorry for acting so weird too. I do have something I want to tell you about, but we should probably catch up with Alex before she decides to adventure without us. So we can talk more later, okay?” Steve kept his expression and tone as honest as possible. He didn’t want Herobrine to think it was anything bad. Eventually Herobrine nodded.

“I suppose you’re right, even if I would rather it be just the two of us.” Herobrine started walking again and Steve matched his pace, walking beside him.

Steve would also rather it be just them, but probably for a different reason than Herobrine. He tried not to think about Herobrine’s mouth anymore than he already was, lest his face become permanently red.

“Aw, she’s not that bad,” he said, defending Alex.

Herobrine gave him a deadpan look and Steve smiled widely. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Herobrine mumbled.

The walk to catch up to Alex was quiet, mostly because Herobrine was not often the one to initiate conversation and Steve was thinking about everything they’d just said and everything he still wanted to say.

When they reached her, not far from her village, she was sitting on a tree trunk, legs and arms crossed, brow raised.

“Finally,” she said with an eye roll. She stood up. “I debated going back for you but I was afraid of what I might see.”

Damn her. Steve’s face turned beet red again as he tried not to look at Herobrine, who scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Remind me again why we invited you?”

“Well someone needs to hold the braincells and it wasn’t going to be one of you chuckleheads.”

Herobrine sneered at her. “I’m sure we could have managed.”

Her expression turned innocent as she tapped her finger against her lips. “Weren’t you in the Nether for the last 200 years?”

Well, she had a point, but Steve kept that to himself as he stole a glance at Herobrine, who was now glaring at her. Just when he thought they might be able to get along…

“Thanks for reminding me.”

She smiled brightly at him, a little patronizing but maybe Herobrine would learn not to try to out-snark her, though Steve doubted it. “You’re welcome! Now let’s go.” She pivoted on the spot and kept walking, and Herobrine grumbled to himself as they followed behind her.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the village. A lot of the forest around it had been cleared for space or resources, so they had to stop fairly far from the village proper, but that was fine with Steve. The farther away, the better.

Alex turned around to address them, but her gaze fell on Herobrine and her brows raised. Steve looked over at him as well.

Herobrine was staring at the village in awe.

“It’s huge,” he breathed. Steve and Alex shared a glance and Alex shrugged. Steve looked at the village. He supposed it was rather big, but a majority of villages added houses for more people to live there so it was only natural that growth occurred. It was nowhere near the biggest village Steve had seen but it was steadily getting there. Not something he would necessarily consider impressive though.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a village,” Alex said like it was obvious, giving Herobrine a look like he was crazy. He narrowed his eyes at her as she stepped away from the trees, gesturing for them to stay put. “Just wait here and try not to get into trouble. Not something I think I’d need to say, but with you—“ She pointed at Steve, “I feel like it’s warranted.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That’s fair.”

She left and Steve sighed, leaning back against a tree. Her village was…okay, he supposed, but he still didn’t like being close to it.

“Do all villages look like that?” Herobrine asked after a moment. Steve looked over at him. He was still staring at it. Steve shifted his gaze to it as well, tracking Alex as she made her way to her house. He shrugged.

“I guess? This one is a bit on the smaller side.”

“Wow.”

Steve smiled, unable to help himself. Herobrine’s amazement at something so simple was pretty cute. Too bad villages themselves weren’t as spectacular. He wondered if Herobrine realized that if the two of them were to walk into a village, there would be instant chaos.

“Yeah I guess this is all pretty different for you, huh? Too bad we can’t really go into one.”

Herobrine took a deep breath and sighed, joining him against the tree and crossing his arms. “Shit, yeah you’re right, huh?”

They stood there in silence for a moment. He was debating whether he should mention his dream when Herobrine spoke first.

“I think…I want to go to my village.”

Steve looked up at him in surprise. He never would have expected that. “Really?”

Herobrine looked down at him as well, nodding. “Since we don’t have a destination in mind, would that be okay?”

“Y-Yeah!” Steve said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “Of course!”

Herobrine chuckled at his reaction, looking back to the village. Steve internally cursed how easily he blushed as he averted his gaze as well, watching the village for any signs of Alex returning.

“What’s it called, by the way? Your village?” He hadn’t thought that Herobrine’s home might exist still. After 200 years he doubted it, but if the village was prospering, it might still be there.

“I’m pretty sure it was…Rivana? Riviana? Something like that.”

Steve frowned. He didn’t know a village with that name.

“Hm. What about any villages neighboring it? I don’t recognize that name at all.”

Herobrine shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe…Great something? Or something Great?” Herobrine huffed. “Fuck, maybe this is a bad idea.”

“No no, it’s fine,” Steve quickly assured him. “I’m sure Alex knows, or we can go to a library. There might be mention of it somewhere.”

“Not if the Gods wanted to erase me from history,” Herobrine pointed out, scoffing.

Steve made a face. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”

Herobrine snorted in amusement. “This is a bad idea, isn’t it?”

“What, the two of us traveling together? What gave you that impression?” He said it jokingly, but Steve wholeheartedly agreed—he was currently being hunted by a mysterious group and Herobrine was completely out of touch with the reality of the Overworld. They couldn’t be taunting the universe more.

“Oh, gee, I don’t know,” Herobrine teased, nudging him with his elbow and smiling. “Maybe just everything that’s happened since you came to the Nether for the first time.”

“Oh so it’s my fault, is that it?” He joked.

Everything that’s happened is your fault!

The words echoed through his mind, dragging his mood down. He knew they were joking right now, that Herobrine didn’t actually blame him for anything. He’d said he would just leave if he wanted to—and boy didn’t that hurt, when Steve thought about it—but he hadn’t. He was still here with no plans of leaving anytime soon and Steve just needed to accept that and not let his dream give him doubts.

He took a slow, deep breath and looked up. Herobrine was staring at him passively, having recognized the weird reaction Steve kept having during a conversation between them but choosing to remain silent. It made Steve feel guilty of wanting Herobrine to open up but not being able to do it himself. But he planned to, he just…didn’t want Alex around for it. So maybe now would be a good time.

“About…earlier—” Steve started, but Herobrine held up his hand, cutting him off.

“It can wait until later,” Herobrine said, pushing away from the tree and nodding his head toward the village. Steve looked over and saw Alex coming toward them. “I don’t want to give Alex anymore reasons to harass us.”

Steve smiled, just a little, and pushed away from the tree as well. “She doesn’t need a reason, trust me.”

They stood in silence for a few moments. Alex was still a distant figure, but Steve was surprised when Herobrine spoke again.

“Nice armor by the way. Did Alex give it to you?”

Steve looked over but Herobrine was watching Alex approach. He looked down at the leather instead, smoothing his hands over the chestplate.

“Yeah. She said she wanted to give me armor that would last a little longer than my normal sets.” He laughed. “You know that set I was wearing when we went to the warped forest? I had literally just made that, so, she has a point.”

“Strange that she would choose leather for something meant to last a long time,” Herobrine observed.

Steve agreed. “I assume it has to do with the enchantments. Maybe it has mending on it.”

“Mending?”

They looked at each other at the same time, Steve incredulous and Herobrine genuinely confused.

“Yeah, mending, you know? Or…I guess you don’t, wow, I hadn’t thought about that. Uh, yeah, there are probably a few enchantments you don’t know about then. Mending just means that if I kill anything, the armor repairs itself a little.”

It was funny how something Steve thought as trivial—like the size of villages and certain enchantments—was enough to blow Herobrine’s mind.

“That’s incredible. Would have come in handy back when I was human.”

“It is pretty handy. I’ve never had armor or a tool with mending but I’ve heard that if you’re skilled enough, your gear can last your entire life.”

Herobrine whistled, impressed. “That sounds like the perfect enchantment for a set of netherite armor. Or a sword.”

Steve furrowed his brows. “Netherite?” He asked, just as Alex reached them. They both turned to her, Steve widening his eyes at her appearance.

Like him, she had for herself leather armor adorned with chainmail, but she had dyed her armor black, making the glow of enchantment all the more obvious. She also now had her bow and two swords with her, making her look fairly formidable. She didn’t have a helmet, but neither did she have a cloak.

“You don’t know what netherite is?” Alex asked. Steve shook his head, looking between them.

“It’s made using gold and a material called ancient debris, which is only found in the Nether,” Herobrine explained. “You can make netherite ingots and use those to upgrade diamond.”

“Upgrade diamond?” Steve repeated. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Oh my sweet summer child,” Alex said, throwing her arm over his shoulders and tugging him into a one-sided hug. She pinched his cheek for good measure and he made a displeased sound, jerking his head away from her fingers. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know.”

“Get off,” he complained, pushing her away playfully. She relented and stepped back with a smirk.

“Well, I think we’re finally ready to get going. Oh, I grabbed these for you,” she added, unstrapping both swords. She handed one to him and tossed the other to Herobrine. He caught it easily as Alex explained, “I could only spare an iron sword. Sorry.”

Herobrine unsheathed the sword, testing it in his grip. Then he did an impressive flourish that left both Steve and Alex gaping at him.

“Wow. That was super hot,” Alex complemented without shame. “More of that please.”

“Not if you like it,” Herobrine commented, sheathing the sword and buckling it around his hips.

“Aw. Crush a girl’s dreams why don’t you.” She didn’t sound too upset though, as there was a smile on her face. She winked at Steve and he glared weakly at her, buckling the sword to his hip as well. But he didn’t say anything because he agreed with her.

“So. Now what?” Alex asked, looking between them. Steve looked over at Herobrine, who gestured to Alex.

“Herobrine wants to visit his village.”

She blinked, clearly taken aback just like Steve had been. “Well, that’s certainly interesting. Sounds good to me.”

“Well, the problem is that we don’t know where it is and were hoping you might.”

“Oh. Maybe. What’s it called?”

Steve grimaced. “Er…we don’t know that either.”

Alex huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “You boys aren’t giving me much to work with.”

Steve rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry. He thinks it might be called R-Rivana? Riviana? Or along those lines?”

“Hm.” Alex pursed her lips. “No, I don’t recognize that name. Any surrounding villages?”

“Great something? Or something Great?” He knew it was incredibly unlikely, but he wanted to be able to do this for Herobrine. And, it gave them direction, which is better than anything he had half-planned.

“I don’t…It…Oh!” He perked up at her exclamation. “The Great Desert?”

Steve looked hopefully to Herobrine, but he only shrugged. “Perhaps. I vaguely remember a desert being nearby.”

“It’s surprising you remember that much at all, considering how long it’s been.” Alex looked up to see the sun’s position in the sky, shielding the rays with her hand, then surveyed their surroundings. “I’m pretty sure we need to go that way.” She pointed North. “But we’re pretty far from it, like, at least a week and a half.”

“It won’t take that long,” Herobrine assured, coming to stand next to Steve and giving him a knowing look. “Once Buddy’s back.”

Steve groaned. Fuck, how was he going to explain Buddy to Alex?

“Who’s Buddy?” Alex inquired, predictably. Steve grimaced. He noticed the self satisfied smirk on Herobrine’s face and jabbed him hard in the ribs with his elbow in revenge for putting him in this position. Herobrine winced but smiled through it, which didn’t feel satisfying at all.

“Just ignore him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Uh huh.” She was anything but convinced, but let the subject drop. “Whatever man. Might as well get going then, we’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

Alex lead the way, and Steve was happy to follow after her. Herobrine lagged behind him a bit, walking with his hands behind his head like they were on some kind of Sunday stroll. Steve couldn’t really blame him—this was probably the most peaceful their journey was ever going to be.

After a few minutes, Herobrine caught up with him and leaned over a bit to say quietly, “Hey, I wanted to mention this earlier, but…can you not tell Alex about how little I know about the Overworld now?”

Steve couldn’t help it—he laughed. It earned him a raised brow from Alex, but he ignored her to smile widely at Herobrine. Oh, this was too good.

“Stay on your best behavior and I’ll consider it.” Herobrine pouted but kept pace with him, and they walked side-by-side after Alex.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t as bad as Herobrine expected.

Okay, so maybe he was an asshole for thinking that, but on paper their plan was weak at best. Nobody knew the exact location of their destination and two of the three of them couldn’t walk easily through a village, not to mention his own current struggle with his abilities.

There was still definitely something wrong with him. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that feeling powerful and unstoppable out of nowhere was a good thing. At least the more time he spent away from the lure of the portal, the more clear headed he became. Steve had been right that morning—the portal had been taking up the majority of his attention. But he hadn’t been lying when he’d said that it called out to him. It was quiet whisperings, sure, but distracting nonetheless. Though, now that there wasn’t a portal in sight, he felt better. Just a little. Still teetering on the edge of a freak out but it was easier to focus on other things.

Like his powers. He was more in tune with his surroundings than ever before. Every little sound, every life form that wandered close, every mob above and below the surface—he was aware of all of it. And like he’d told Steve, if he focused enough, he could hear the heart beats of his two companions.

He was getting a little better at not letting the sensations overwhelm him. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Steve that he was only looking at the portal because it was the easy thing to do, but being away from the portal let him focus on himself and try to begin controlling his newly enhanced abilities. Not going mad from listening to two out of sync heartbeats was a good start.

He still couldn’t believe Steve would think he wanted to go back to the Nether. Just the thought of going back filled him with equal parts rage and unease. If he ever went back to the Nether, it would be against his will. Or if Steve was going because Herobrine was sure the Wither would murder the poor guy on sight and Herobrine wasn’t going to let that happen.

He subtly glanced to the side. They’d been walking all morning and into the afternoon, and though Alex had been blessedly quiet for most of it, so had Steve. He’d been lost in his thoughts, walking as if on autopilot. Herobrine knew there was something on his mind, but they were going to talk about it later, so he didn’t say anything. But the curiosity about what could be bothering Steve so much—what could make him think Herobrine would be willing to go back to the Nether—burned in the back of his mind. He was eager to hear the reason why.

Steve happened to look up and catch him staring. He smiled, raising his brows a bit as if asking ‘what’s up?’ Herobrine smiled back and shook his head, looking away. The quiet, breathy laugh from Steve was what made his cheeks warm.

He wasn’t too embarrassed. About getting caught perhaps, but not about staring at Steve. He found the urge to do that was becoming stronger and stronger and he had no plans to suppress it. He didn’t mind staring at Steve, especially in that leather armor. It was downright obscene for leather to cling that tight.

To curb the desire to look, he either thought about returning to his home, which was stressful and filled him with mixed emotions, or taking in the Overworld some more. There wasn’t much to see right now, as the three of them were walking on an established path through a forest, of which Herobrine had had his fill of. The trees were maybe taller than he remembered, a little denser, but otherwise a forest was a forest was a forest. It was, frankly speaking, boring.

Which is why he often found his gaze drifting to Steve, trying to be subtle about it but the man seemed to have a sixth sense for noticing when Herobrine was watching him.

But every time, he smiled. It was the most mindboggling thing about Steve, about this entire situation. To think that Steve—that anyone—could look at him and smile was…unthinkable. An event that only occurred in his fantasies, after days upon days of endless isolation in the Nether. But now it was reality, and the novelty of it all never failed to amaze him.

All things considered, it could be worse for them. But after several hours of walking in a straight line in silence, Alex must have decided that it was unacceptable.

Unfortunately.

“So what’s your deal?”

Herobrine sighed, exaggerating so Alex could hear his disdain but he knew it was in vain.

“You could not ask a vaguer question,” he responded, shooting a glare at Steve’s stifled giggle. The man looked away quickly, whistling like he was innocent.

“Is that a challenge?” Alex asked, baring her teeth in what could probably be considered a smile. A mean one.

He turned his glare on her, but she was unaffected. Another strange outlier to his experiences with people after his…well he didn’t know what to call it now, if he really was a mob. He shuddered thinking about it and pushed the thought all the way to the back of his mind, locking it away and then lighting it on fire.

“Can we go back to silence?” He asked hopefully, and she actually laughed. Bitch.

“Funny and cute, you really got everything going for you, huh? Ignoring the whole crazy thing.”

He glared, trying not to let her get under his skin. She had absolutely no filter and it was equal parts frustrating and refreshing. He glanced over, just knowing that Steve was trying to hold back laughter, and caught the tail-end of Steve quickly turning his head away. But his shaking shoulders gave him away.

He crossed his arms.

“Then be more specific.”

“Honestly I feel like ‘what’s your deal’ is preeeeeetty specific but I mean, like, what’s your story? Why are you, ya know—“ She spun around, gesturing to all of him as she walked backwards.

He narrowed his eyes. “Do you honestly expect me to answer that?”

She held out her hands as if offended. “What? I think it’s a valid question. We’re gonna be traveling together for a while, might as well get to know one another.”

He huffed, unwilling to speak about his past but if this would get them talking again, then so be it. He’d just have to shut down any prying into what happened with the Wither.

“Alright, fine,” he relented unhappily. “What do you want to know first?”

“We can start with something easy,” Alex said as she slowed her pace until she was walking on his other side. Steve kept quiet but was obviously paying attention. “What’s your favorite color?”

Oh shit. He made a conscious effort not to turn his head, despite the incessant itch that persisted in his brain, wearing down his resolve until he looked into the very eyes that answered Alex’s question. Instead he looked down and to the right, keeping all of Alex in his periphery. It did little to assuage the temptation to look over at Steve but he managed.

“…Black.” In the end he chickened out. But saying purple seemed a little too on the nose, and Alex would definitely pick up on that. It was so obvious, even Steve would probably connect those dots.

“Wow I never would have guess,” she commented sarcastically. He let it slide, considering his actual answer would have elicited a much more degrading response, he was sure. “Mine’s yellow. What about you Steve?”

“Cyan.”

“Ah, that would explain the shirts.”

“Ha ha, yeah.”

“Hm, how about…favorite biome? Mine’s a bamboo jungle.” She sighed dreamily. "What I wouldn't give to be relaxing there right now, listening to the birds sing."

Steve made a sound of jealously. “Bamboo jungle? Lucky. I haven't seen one yet."

"Dude, when things calm down, remind me to take you there. What's yours?"

"Mine's a tie between a badlands and a warm ocean. Just depends on my mood.” Steve shrugged but Alex seem surprised.

“Really? Huh. I never would have guessed either of those. Oh, is it because there’s no villages?”

“Among other things. They’re just peaceful, you know? The minimal human presence is just a bonus.”

In the lull of their conversation, Herobrine spoke up. “I don’t recognize any of those biomes.”

They both looked at him incredulously. “Really?” Alex questioned.

“Well, it kinda makes sense,” Steve said in his defense. “In the Nether for 200 years, remember?”

“Ah right. It’s still weird though. Like, how could anyone not know? But, I can understand in your case.” She patted his arm gently, almost patronizingly—at least that’s the impression he got. “A bamboo jungle is just a portion of jungle overrun by tall shoots of bamboo. Jungles are already pretty cool to explore but the bamboo jungles just have this feeling to them, ya know? Plus pandas, so, automatic win.”

It sounded interesting. Not necessarily a biome Herobrine would particularly like to see, given that jungles were a wet kind of hot, which he found uncomfortable. There had been a lot of talk about new biomes being discovered but Herobrine had been too preoccupied with his research to care, so he might have heard about it but it didn't ring any bells.

"Yeah, I don't think I've ever heard of that before."

“That's not surprising. It's one of the rarest biomes.” Alex explained.

"What about badlands?” He made a face. “Is that really a biome?”

“I think you’d really like it,” Steve said. “It’s hot just like a desert but the entire biome has red sand and huge mounds of terracotta.”

That tickled something in the farthest reaches of his memory. He’d never seen the red sands, but he’d definitely heard about it. He thought anyway. And any biome that was like a desert was immediate classified as good in his book. Might be worth checking out, if the opportunity ever arose. He was already missing the intense heat the Nether offered—the only thing about it he ended up enjoying.

“I might have heard about that too. But it definitely wasn’t called a badlands.”

“That’s ‘cause no one calls it that,” Alex cut in, rolling her eyes. “Everyone just calls it a mesa.”

“As for the warm ocean,” Steve continued, “The water is warm like the name suggests, but the biome is much more than that. It’s beautiful there, very calm and peaceful. The water is shallow and there’s so much to see. Coral and all the different kinds of fish, and dolphins and turtles.” Steve frowned. “Sometimes there’s drowned too, so that sucks, especially if any of them have a trident, but for the most part it’s nice. Laying on the beach in the sun sounds amazing right about now.”

Alex groaned. “Please stop, I don’t need to be thinking about warm beaches right now. The bamboo jungle was bad enough.”

Herobrine didn’t know what half those things were, but he nodded along anyway. He’d ask Steve later, when Alex wasn't around to make fun of him.

“What about you?” Alex asked him. “What’s your favorite?”

He had an immediate answer of course. “In the Overworld or anywhere?”

Alex opened her mouth, closed it, and then responded. “I hadn’t even thought about that.” She shrugged. “Anywhere I guess.”

“My all time favorite is the warped forest, in the Nether. But in the Overworld I’d say the desert. I’ve always been partial to hotter temperatures.”

“Warped forest?” Alex asked, predictably.

“You’d love it,” Steve said, matter-of-factly. “You’d love all the biomes in the Nether.”

Alex made a face. “You know I’m not a fan of it, but you’re probably right.”

“Trust me, it’s like another dimension.”

“Steve, it is another dimension,” Alex pointed out.

“No, I mean, the warped forest. You’d never know you were in the Nether. It’s like a proper forest, with teal trees and grass and everything.”

That piqued her interest. “You don’t say?”

Steve nodded, enthused. “Yeah! There’s a red version too called a crimson forest, and the soul sand valley has giant skeletons!” Steve glanced at him, his face bright with happiness, and Herobrine couldn’t do anything but smile back, startled. It would take him a long time to remember that Steve could just look at him like that and not think twice about smiling.

“You mean the Nether isn’t all doom and gloom?”

Steve chuckled. “No, it is. There’s just also trees.”

Alex snorted. “Well, maybe it’s worth checking out. I might have to put aside my prejudice.”

They stopped for lunch on Alex’s request. They were still in a forest so Herobrine left the two of them to set up a small fire while he hunted down something to eat. It was easy, with how aware he was. It was almost like he could see through the trees, pinpointing the exact location of whichever mob he needed. He himself wasn’t hungry yet, and he knew that Steve probably wouldn’t eat that much, but since Alex was with them, he settled on a chicken. The thought of plucking the damn thing was annoying, but it was the smallest and most easy to transport, so it’d have to do. And he could always get another one if they were still hungry.

He didn’t waste any time preparing the chicken and soon enough they were on their way again. The two humans kept up their light chatter, with Herobrine joining in when prompted, but for the most part he was content to remain silent. And as the sun began to dip below the horizon, and the hostile mobs made their way to the surface, he found his attention diverted to focusing on them rather than his companions. Which is why he was startled when a hand waved in front of his face, catching his attention.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” Alex asked. He blinked down at her.

“What?”

“I asked like twice already if we should stop for the night or keep going for a bit. Steve mentioned you could, like, control the mobs or something?”

He looked between them, wondering when he’d missed this part of the conversation. “If you want to stop, that’s fine with me. I can keep any mob away so you don’t have to worry about being jumped in the middle of the night.”

Alex made a face, glancing around. “Probably for the best we stop. I’m not trying to tempt fate with this guy around.” She gestured at Steve with her thumb, who stuck his tongue out at her.

They found an old log on the ground and settled there. Herobrine pulled branches off nearby trees with ease and broke them down into tinier pieces, arranging them in a pile between the three of them and lighting it on fire. Alex gasped at the sight.

“Dude! Were you going to mention that you could control fire!?”

Herobrine looked at Steve. “You didn’t tell her?”

Steve’s smile was mischievous. “I thought it would be funnier if you just constantly surprised her with your abilities.”

“Steven! I hate being out of the know!” She glared at him, but he just smirked, leaning back against the log and lacing his fingers behind his head, the epitome of relaxation.

“I know. That’s why it’d be funny. Plus you can think of it like payback for all the jokes at our expense.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

He set out again to find dinner. He debated whether he was hungry, but as the thought stayed in his mind, the more he was looking forward to it. So he snatched a pig and teleported back to the small camp with it. He wasn’t often hungry but when the urge struck, it was intense.

When he appeared, both of them had shed their armor and were wearing night clothes. To Herobrine the temperature outside was cool bordering on cold, but it must have been comfortable to them because Alex was wearing a tank top and shorts while Steve had a t-shirt and pants.

He set up a rudimentary furnace over the fire using rocks and prepared several chunks of pork. From his pack stuffed with food, Alex pulled out some bread.

“Sandwich?” She asked Steve, who nodded. Once the pork was done, Alex made herself and Steve sandwiches and Herobrine claimed the remainder of the meat. The two of them were surprised at not only the fact that he was eating, but at the quantity as well.

“Am I not allowed to eat?” He questioned, more to Alex.

“Honestly I thought you survived off pure spite,” was her response, which…wasn’t too far off the mark.

“I like to mix it up every once and a while.”

 They bickered for a bit before the conversation turned to more benign topics. Herobrine was quickly learning that Alex was capable of holding a conversation entirely on her own, as he and Steve offered very little input. But it didn’t deter her. When she couldn’t talk more than a few minutes without yawning, she finally called it a night, pulling out a bedroll from her pack and offering it to Steve. He tried to refuse it but she pulled out another one, so he accepted.

She bid them goodnight and laid down, turning her back to them.

Without her incessant chatter, the sounds on nighttime settled around them. Steve was sitting with his back to the downed log, knees drawn to his chest and arms wrapped around them. Herobrine didn’t say anything, letting Steve organize his thoughts and speak when he was ready. He could practically feel the hesitation radiating off the other and wondered for the first time if what Steve had to say was worrisome. But still he waited.

“Do you think she’s asleep?” Steve whispered. Herobrine looked up and then looked at Alex. Her breathing and heart rate were slow and even.

“I would say so.”

Steve nodded, gaze fixed on the fire. Herobrine tried not to look at Steve, picking at the grass absentmindedly. It wasn’t like him to be patient like this, but he didn’t want to pressure Steve into talking only to have the man shut down on him. Even though the curiosity was killing him, he forced himself to remain quiet and appear relaxed.

“Can we talk now?”

Herobrine looked over, brows raised. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready.” Fuck, was it something bad? It sounded bad.

Steve took a deep breath. “Last night I had…a nightmare. About what happened to my parents and my village.”

It was all Herobrine could do to not stare wide-eyed, open-mouthed at Steve. Shit, he wasn’t expecting this.

“Wait, you don’t—“

“No it’s okay,” Steve assured quickly, smiling a bit. “I’ve gotten over what happened, it was a long time ago after all. There was a raid and they were killed. The village was lit on fire and destroyed. But…that’s not what I…why I…” He took a deep breath and his heart started pounding in his chest, loud to Herobrine’s ears. Just like that morning.

“After…that, everything disappeared. I was surrounded by darkness and pinned down by something. It…I-It was that mob.” Steve swallowed heavily, hugging his knees tighter. “From the Nether.”

Herobrine clenched his hands into fists. The anger was swift to surface, his hatred for that mob stronger than ever. He’d gone too easy on it; he should have shoved its head into the lava.

“It was choking me and then…it changed.” Steve looked at him then, his expression bordering on anguish. “Into someone else.”

Herobrine was confused for just a moment before the realization struck. He didn’t know what to say. “Steve…”

“I know you would never do it,” Steve said quietly, averting his gaze back to the fire. “I know it. But I can see the…the rage on your face so clearly. When you raise your voice or, get mad at something, even if it’s over something silly, I can’t help but think about it.”

Herobrine could see Steve digging his nails into his arm, the clear unhappiness in his body language. It was like a sword through his heart. That had been him, once, curled up in the corner of the fortress, alone and helpless but to think about everything that had gone wrong in his life. He’d had the Wither with him then, poisoning his mind with whispered lies. He’d be damned if he let Steve think he was alone right now.

Slowly, he shifted over until he was next to Steve, relaxing back against the log as well. He didn’t try to touch him, just sat motionless and let his proximity be whatever comfort Steve might need it to be. Hopefully it was okay—Herobrine wasn’t too practiced at offering comfort to anyone. He used to not care. He didn’t know when that had changed with Steve. The thought that Steve could look at him and see any form of hostility was almost unthinkable.

“I can’t promise that nothing will happen," he started, staring into the fire. "I haven’t been adjusting well to the Overworld and before that, my experiences with humans were iffy to say the least." He looked up to see Steve watching him, his expression troubled. Herobrine couldn't look away from those eyes even if he wanted to. "But I would never try to hurt you on purpose."

He could see Steve's eyes flit across his face, but Herobrine believed with everything he had that he was telling the truth. Steve must have seen it too because he let out a breath and looked away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Herobrine stared at the side of Steve's head for a few moments before he looked away with a small smile. He brought his knee up to rest his arm on it and stretched his other arm atop the log behind Steve's head.

"Didn't we talk about apologizing over things that aren't your fault?" He said it lightly, hoping to lift Steve's mood a little bit.

After a few moments he saw Steve's head turn enough to look at him. "I don't know how to answer that without saying sorry again."

Herobrine glanced at him with a chuckle, but didn't say anything more.

"You don't—" Steve cut himself off, frowning. "You don't regret what happened, do you?" He sounded so afraid of what he might hear, but Herobrine wasn't sure what exactly he was asking about.

"Regret what, making a deal with the Wither? Of course I do now—"

"No, I mean, helping me. Being friends with me." Steve gestured to their surroundings. "Everything that's lead to this moment."

He knew that Steve was trying to be serious, but to Herobrine the question was so absurd he had to actively stifle his laugh and even then, Steve noticed. "What?"

"How could I regret it?” He looked up at the stars. “My life has been nothing but a mistake since the day I summoned the Wither. I would pass days laying in the fortress unmoving, wondering if my life had a point anymore or if I should just kill myself and get it over with.” There had been too many times where he'd thought about it, but he got the impression from the Wither that he'd never be able to go through with it. So in between the bouts of rage and depression was a helplessness that he was stuck in a never ending cycle of his own making. "But when I met you, I suddenly had something to do. Someone to talk to, someone to explore with. Someone who wasn't afraid of me or afraid to talk back to me." A smile tugged at his lips, but it was short lived. "I'm still blown away every time you're able to even smile at me.”

In the following silence, he felt Steve gradually relax the hold he had on his knees, until their legs touched. He looked over when Steve sighed.

“You really feel that way?” He asked quietly. Was it so hard to believe? Herobrine thought it was a no-brainer.

“We’re friends aren’t we?”

He waited for Steve to nod.

“Then of course I do. My only regret about what happened is that it didn't happen sooner. And I have you to thank for getting me out of there."

That at least brought a small smile to Steve's face. "You did all the hard work."

"Then it's nice to have someone around to bask in my glory," he said with a cheeky smirk and Steve snorted, his smile growing a bit as he nudged Herobrine's side with his elbow.

"Alright, don't ruin the mood."

Herobrine shrugged as if to say 'what can you do?' They enjoyed a comfortable silence for a few minutes, then—

"What's a dolphin?"

Steve's face had gone red by the time he was able to stop trying to hold in a laugh so as to not wake Alex. Herobrine let him get it all out, knowing it could be a lot worse. At least Steve wasn't saying anything about it.

"Oh boy I needed that," Steve said, wiping his eyes. "It's an aquatic mob. They're super friendly and help you swim faster. And they're big, probably around 6-7 feet long I'd guess."

"I don't think I've ever heard of an aquatic mob that wasn't a fish or a squid. It's hard to imagine something that big being friendly."

"They are a little intimidating but they just like to play with humans, so you get used to it."

"And there was...what else did you say? T-Turtle?" The word felt awkward in his mouth, but Steve’s face lit up, so he dealt with the small amount of embarrassment.

"Oh, yeah! Turtles are awesome, they're also friendly aquatic mobs that can swim really fast but you're more likely to see them hanging around beaches. They're entirely green with a hard shell on their back. And baby turtles are so freaking adorable, you have no idea."

"We'll have to hope we come across a beach in our travels then. You make them sound like the best mobs in the Overworld."

"I mean, they're definitely up there. Right alongside dolphins."

"What about pa-pandas? Is that what what Alex called them?" He felt a little foolish, acting like a child seeing the outside world for the first time.

"Yep. They're black and white bears that live in jungles but are found most commonly in bamboo jungles because they eat bamboo. They're not necessarily friendly but they don't attack unless provoked, so kinda like an enderman. They're fun to watch, especially when there are baby pandas around."

Herobrine pursed his lips. "Bear?"

Steve sighed. "Man, we really need to get you, like, a picture book or something."

After several more explanations that made Herobrine’s head spin trying to keep all the information straight, he finally called it quits on their conversation when Steve couldn’t stop yawning every other minute and his blinks lasted longer and longer.

Steve moved forward a bit to be able to lay down, looking up at Herobrine once he’d settled.

“Have you—“ a yawn interrupted him, “—Have you slept at all? Since being in the Overworld?”

It was an odd question, but Herobrine answered honestly. “I don’t know if what I did to pass the time could be considered sleep. Why?”

“Because—“ Another yawn, and Steve closed his eyes. “If you don’t sleep…for three days the…the phantoms come…” Steve trailed off, and soon his breathing evened out as he succumbed to sleep.

Herobrine watched Steve sleep, pondering his words. Phantoms? Another mob he didn’t know. Steve made them sound ominous, like they’d come and attack him or force him to sleep somehow. Either way, Herobrine was sure he could handle any mob that tried to challenge him but…sleeping tonight might not be too bad. He could at least try and if he failed, he could deal with the phantoms later.

He put up a very clear signal to any mobs nearby—do not come near—and laid down next to Steve, resting his hands behind his head. He thought about the day, about their conversations and about everything that had changed since he’d been gone. 

And he thought about Steve.

Steve, who could smile at him and send his heart racing. Steve who only needed to ask and Herobrine would do anything for, just to see the happiness on his face. Steve who Herobrine would kill for and take an arrow through the heart or a sword through the gut for…

When he opened his eyes, having not remembered falling asleep, it was to the feel of a hand gently cupping the side of his face. He had turned at some point during the night and was facing Steve, who was awake and watching him, touching him with a thumb rubbing gently along his cheek and a smile that was small and soft. Herobrine was only capable of staring wide-eyed, heart racing and cheeks flushing pink. This closeness—this intimacy—was something he craved deep, deep down but told himself he didn’t desire. But faced with it, he was weak.

And then Steve leaned forward. Herobrine held his breath as the distance between their faces closed, unable to do anything but look between Steve’s half lidded eyes and lips.

Steve hesitated for only a brief second before there was the lightest, feather-soft brush of their lips—

Herobrine’s eyes shot open at the sound of a twig snapping. His heart was pounding and his face felt hot as he stared up at the sky blearily, taking deep, fast breaths. He furrowed his brows and looked to his left to see Steve still sleeping soundly, having at some point hugged Herobrine’s arm to his chest, snuggling it like a kid would a stuffed toy.

He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

A dream.

It had been a dream.

He squeezed his eyes shut harder as something like grief wrapped around his heart. Fuck. He had entertained the idea vaguely, as nothing more than a whimsical fantasy but…

He turned onto his side, facing Steve. He watched the way Steve mumbled and twitched in his sleep, the way he periodically tightened his grip on Herobrine’s arm before relaxing it again. The peaceful, smoothed out expression on his face. It was something he could get used to waking up to.

Herobrine made a face as his heart ached with an emotion he didn’t think he’d ever felt before. An emotion that he honestly thought he was incapable of feeling and stoutly refused to name. He sighed and pulled his arm away slowly, rolling onto his back and staring at the sky as the sun rose, waiting for Steve and Alex to wake up.

Maybe sleeping was a bad idea.

Regaining consciousness was the worst decision his body could have made. Every muscle and fuck, even his bones felt like they’d been beaten with a spiked bat, set on fire, and then chewed on by wolves. He groaned in pain, trying to deny his state of wakefulness. The last thing he remembered was…

 A voice he didn’t recognize dragged him forward unto consciousness.

Get up.

Blake opened his eyes, regretting it immediately. He blinked several times in quick succession, grimacing as even the dim lighting of his environment agitated his already growing headache.

“Wh—“ Speaking was the second worst decision he made as his throat felt completely shredded, burning as he
hacked and coughed.

When it was over he was left panting with a now raging headache. Each breath felt like a knife scrapping across the inside of his throat. He stared up with blurry vision, blinking heavily but nothing helped clear the fuzziness.

A dark figure moved into his line of sight.

You are easily the most pathetic sight I’ve had the displeasure of seeing for some time now. Get up and do not make me repeat myself again.

The soft voice was completely unfamiliar to him and made him shiver. It was hard to describe, both muffled and clear at the same time. All he knew was that every instinct he had was telling him to fear that voice.

The words themselves would normally have offended him—how dare this person call him pathetic—but he was too tired and in too much pain to care at the moment.

With much effort and suppressing a whine, he lifted himself into a sitting position. Even just that small movement nearly doubled the pounding in his head.

“Fuck,” he moaned miserably, ignoring the burn of his throat and pressing his fingers to his temples, grimacing. But at least he was upright.

After several moments of trying to breath without too much pain, he finally surveyed his surroundings. Was he…in the Nether? The portion of netherrack he was sitting on was bordered by what looked like the smoldering remains of a fortress. To his left was a deactivated portal and to his right—

He cried out and jolted back, instantly regretting it but holy shit there was a Wither floating next to him.

He stared at it in pure shock. “Y-Y-You’re…Y-You—“

Cease your prattle, human. I am in no mood for games.

Blake swallowed and looked around again. He knew Withers were typically beings of destruction, so had it destroyed the fortress? But then what was he doing there?

He looked up at the Wither. Juneau had described it before to him, many times at his own request but also because the guy definitely had a hard-on for it. Juneau’s obsession with all things ‘Wither’ was a little creepy but Blake wasn’t one to judge.

He could maybe see why his boss idolized it so much—the Wither was an impression creature. All three of its heads were fixed on him and its intense white gaze made Blake feel small and helpless. It wasn’t a feeling he particularly liked and wasn’t doing the Wither any favors, but he recognized a lost fight.

You will do well to listen. I have elevated your existence, so you will do my bidding or I will kill you. Do we have an understanding?

Gee, what a deal. And ‘elevated his existence?’ He didn’t feel ‘elevated,’ he felt like absolute shit. Blake rolled his eyes, so badly wanting to talk back like he would have to Juneau or Adelaide. But he held his tongue. Barely.

However, the Wither clearly sensed something from him because, although its expression didn’t change, Blake got the impression that it was angry. And then—

The pain that came was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was bad but it wasn’t excruciating, just all-encompassing—an electric shock that shot down his spine and locked up his muscles. He grit his teeth and was forced to endure, unable to scream or make any sound at all. The pounding of his headache made it feel like his head was being squeezed in an iron golem’s grasp and his chest burned as his lungs ceased functioning.

After what felt like an eternity, the painful sensations abruptly ended. He was suddenly able to breathe again, taking heaving lungfuls of air to fill his aching lungs. Each muscle in his body felt even more strained and overtaxed than before.

I do not tolerate insolence. Let that be your first and only lesson.

Blake stared at the netherrack, panting.

Duly noted.

Find a portal and return to the Overworld. Am I correct to assume there is another of my kind already there?

He watched the way his hands shook badly and slowly clenched them into fists. He nodded.

Every hair on his body stood on end as his instincts screamed that something was about to happen. His stomach rolled at the notion of more pain.

Answer me.

“Y-Yes,” he croaked, head bowed. Anger and shame burned hot in his face. “There is.”

Excellent. You will find it and deliver this message.

He wasn’t even surprised to see the wither skeleton kneel in front of him and hold out a scroll. The seal was a symbol he recognized as the enchantment language, but nothing he was able to decipher. He took it silently.

Go and do not return a failure.

The implication of the threat was heard loud and clear. Blake stood on shaky legs, every inch of him rebelling the thought of moving right now. A few steps proved he wasn’t about to keel over, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

He realized quickly that there was a problem—a glaringly obvious one. The portal was deactivated.

“What about…the…” He trailed off when he looked around and noticed the Wither was no longer there. He thought back to what it had said. ‘Find a portal.’ What, wander the Nether hoping to get lucky? That could take him days, maybe even weeks. He eyed the portal. The frame was intact, so if he could get his hands on a flint and steel…but he would need iron…

Determined and pissed off, he went in search of an answer. Fuck the Nether and fuck the Wither, there was only one thing on his mind.

Revenge.

Chapter Text

All things considered, waking up the next morning wasn’t the worst experience, although it did remind Steve about the part of traveling he hated: sleeping on the ground.

The bedroll helped, if only just, and he appreciated Alex’s forethought. The thin cushioning was more than what he normally had available to him. While traveling he often chose to remain awake to save himself the discomfort of sleeping on the hard, unyielding ground. But even with the added support, his neck still ached a bit.

He yawned and rolled onto his back, stretching. He could hear the fire still crackling away but nothing else. He finally opened his eyes after a few moments of being awake, wanting to see what time it was.

He furrowed his brows a bit. Oh. It was overcast. And just as he noticed that, a cold breeze swept over him, making him shiver. He tucked his arms into the bedroll and yawned again, closing his eyes. He drifted for a bit, half in half out of consciousness, before a light kick to his feet woke him again.

“Wakey wakey,” Alex sing-songed. He groaned and turned onto his side, bringing his legs up to curl into the fetal position.

“Five more minutes,” he pleaded sleepily.

“Uh uh, none of that mister. We can’t afford to be lazy. You still need to eat and get dressed, so get a move on.” He felt the top of the bedroll lift away from him, letting in a rush of cold air. Luckily for him the bedroll was the type that had the top and bottom pieces attached, so he wasn’t completely exposed to the elements, but the cold air still made him suck in a sudden breath and shiver some more.

He sighed and opened his eyes, glaring at Alex’s smiling face. She didn’t look the least bit sorry for being so cruel. “You’re a monster.”

She let go of the bedroll now that he was awake. “Oh, don’t be such a baby. Besides, you’re probably going to thank me for hurrying you along.”

He sat up and scrubbed at his face, leveling a flat look at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm,” she confirmed, nodding her head at something. He turned his head to follow her gaze.

Herobrine was practically sitting in the fire, hugging himself and rubbing his hands along his arms, like he was freezing and desperate to warm up. It was cold but it wasn’t that cold.

But, of course—Nether for 200 years.

Steve frowned, shimmying out of the bedroll. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Alex rolled her eyes and walked over to her pack. Steve changed into his normal clothes and slipped back into the leather armor. Alex started baking two potatoes, poking a stick through them and holding them over the fire in the meantime.

As he was adjusting the chestplate, his hands trailed up until they were resting on the ties for the cloak. He fiddled with them absentmindedly and happened to look up, his gaze landing on Herobrine still huddled close to the fire. He didn’t even fully finish the thought before he was untying the cloak and walking over to the fire.

“Here,” he said, holding the cloak out. “Maybe this will help?”

Herobrine—clearly unhappy and looking the most rumpled Steve had seen yet—made a face like he was about to refuse the cloak, but to Steve’s surprise reached out and accepted it. He inspected the fabric for a moment before speaking up.

“What enchantments are on this?”

Alex perked up. “Oh shit, that’s right!” She looked at him. “I never told you what was on the armor huh? Well, the cloak has fire protection, unbreaking, and mending.”

The mending Steve had already kinda assumed, but unbreaking as well? And on a cloak no less. She really did mean for this set to last as long as possible. He didn’t know whether to be honored that she’d make him something so special or offended that she believed he needed all the help he could get.

…Actually, he did need all the help he could get, so he really couldn’t complain.

Herobrine stared down at the cloak. “Fire protection…” he muttered, then suddenly thrust the cloak into the fire. Even knowing it was fire proof, Steve still made an aborted move to stop him.

After a few moments, during which he and Alex watched Herobrine deliberately hold the cloak in the fire, Herobrine finally pulled it away and immediately swung it onto his back and over his shoulders. He sighed in relief once it was settled, pulling it tight around his body.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling up at Steve with honest appreciation. Steve was a little taken back by the genuine display of emotion and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away as his cheeks warmed a bit.

“Oh, u-um, yeah, no problem.” Steve smiled to himself, feeling giddy all of a sudden. Herobrine wasn’t the only one who was surprised that someone could smile at him—Steve was just as unused to people even managing to look at him, once they saw his eyes. It was surreal to have both Alex and Herobrine as his travel companions—to have both of them able to look him in the eye and not care, to be able to joke with him and tolerate being next to him. It was a connection he’d dreamed about but lost hope for and although he had it now—had had it for some weeks now—he was still caught off guard at times.

He happened to meet Alex’s gaze and his bashful joy faded a bit by the look on her face, as though what had just transpired was cringeworthy.

“What?” He questioned, hands on his hips. Alex smoothed out her expression.

“Nothing, nothing.” She held out one of the potatoes. “Breakfast?”

Eyeing her suspiciously, he accepted the stick. The potato would be dry by itself, but there was little they could do about it. Another aspect of traveling he didn’t care much for was the poor quality of the food. And that was back when he was surviving off of mostly apples, carrots, and sweet berries. At least potatoes were something new.

They ate in silence, gathered around the fire. Steve kept glancing over at Herobrine, a little worried about his uncharacteristic behavior. He was quiet again, but in a way that implied something was eating at his mind. Yesterday he had listened to their conversation. Today he seemed lost in his thoughts, oblivious to everything around them as Alex chatted away, planning out their day.

Every time he looked over, a sense of unease tingled along his nerves. Was it something to do with the portal again, somehow? Was the Wither able to talk to him? Or was Steve simply overthinking the situation and needlessly worrying when there was nothing to worry about in the first place? Should he just ask? He kinda didn’t want Alex to be around. He had a feeling Herobrine would be more likely to speak openly if Alex weren’t around to hear any of it. He honestly couldn’t blame the guy either—Alex would have had a field day listening to him explain what a dolphin was, among other things.

A loud snap right by his ear made him jerk out of his thoughts. He flinched away to see Alex next to him.

“Dude, you good? I called your name like three times.”

Steve blinked. Alex had her bag on her back, and Herobrine was standing next to the smoldering remains of the fire.

“Sorry. Guess I space out.”

“Uh huh,” she said, narrowing her eyes like she didn’t believe him.

“Really, I’m okay. Just thinking about stuff.” He stood up and swung his bag onto his back, looking between his two friends.

“Well, don’t hurt yourself there bud.” Alex snickered to herself.

Steve rolled his eyes as Herobrine came to stand next to him. “Oh, you’re hilarious.”

Alex shrugged a shoulder, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder dramatically. “I know. Now let’s go boys.”

The morning was spent in relative peace. The sun wasn’t able to penetrate through the clouds, leaving the sky overcast, but at least it wasn’t raining. Every so often Steve would glance at Herobrine and notice how uncomfortable he seemed, though his face gave nothing away. It was mostly the way he hugged the cloak to his body.

“Psst,” he whispered to Herobrine. Alex was leading them, walking ahead a few steps, and thankfully didn’t have superhuman hearing. So hopefully Herobrine would feel inclined to talk if they whispered.

Herobrine looked over, having obviously heard him. “Yes?” He inquired just as softly.

“Are you cold?”

Surprising Steve, Herobrine actually chuckled. He was ready for Herobrine to dismiss his concern or decide to discuss it later, not outright admit something about his physical state. “Is it that obvious? I’m realizing now that I didn’t think this through—coming to the Overworld, that is. Since the Nether is endlessly hot, I had forgotten how easily the Overworld’s weather changes.”

“Well, at least we’re heading to a desert. Hopefully we won’t have to be in the cold for too much longer.”

Herobrine glanced up at the sky. “I can deal with it. I just wasn’t prepared earlier. And the cloak helps.” Herobrine smiled at him and Steve smiled back, marveling at the warm flutter he could feel in his heart. He bit his lip and looked away, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn’t visible.

It was becoming increasingly obvious to him that he had definitely developed…feelings. Ever since meeting Herobrine, he had felt little flashes of attraction towards the other. When Herobrine helped him recover from his injuries, when they went to the warped forest, and just now when Herobrine smiled at him. He’d told himself it was because he was unused to the attention, that the attraction wasn’t necessarily because of Herobrine, just because Herobrine happened to be the one here. But as time passed, well—Steve didn’t think he could deny that it definitely was because Herobrine was exactly who he was.

At first he had been a little worried that he might like Herobrine simply because Herobrine was the first person he interacted with on a regular basis. The first person to see him truly, beyond the color of his eyes. With Alex it had been like that. Steve had felt similar feelings in the beginning towards her before they had fizzled out, which is why he was previously hesitant to believe his heart about Herobrine. But the feelings were not only still there, they had grown. They were a definite, rather than a possibility.

They just got along so well. They had a similar sense of humor and—at least in Steve’s opinion—enjoyed each other’s company. Herobrine had let him stay in the Nether and then in the fortress, after all, when he could have just forced him back into the Overworld or let him die. So clearly Herobrine didn’t mind if he was around, which is more than he could say about literally any other human. Well, except Alex, but she was a freak and didn’t count.

The day remained overcast as they walked. The forest they were in slowly started thinning out as they eventually crossed into a plains around lunchtime.

Alex paused on the threshold between biomes and took a deep breath. “Ah, a plains. Great! Hopefully we’ll come across a village with a library or a cartographer. I mean, I’m pretty sure we’re going in the right direction, but a little affirmation never hurt anybody.” She chuckled.

“You mean you aren’t sure? And we’ve been traveling for a day now?” Steve questioned, raising a brow. Alex flashed a smile at him.

“That’s right!” She clapped her hands together. “Anyway, anyone hungry?”

Lunch was a quick affair, berries and the last of the bread, and before long they were off again, across the plains. The temperature stayed the same, which Steve felt bad about. Herobrine seemed relatively okay, though Steve wondered just how cold it really felt to the man. The times he’d been in the Nether, it’d been borderline sweltering. The Overworld was cool but it wasn’t freezing, yet Herobrine had acted like it was. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to cross any of the colder biomes on their way to The Great Desert. 

The day passed by without incident. A little bit before dusk, they found a lone tree and settled around it for a moment.

“Should we keep stopping to rest or try to power through a night?” Alex asked, scanning the horizon for any signs of light from a village. Steve was sure Herobrine would have mentioned something if he could see one, and if he couldn’t, Alex definitely couldn’t.

“I don’t need to sleep, strictly speaking, so if you’d like to stop for each night, I can keep watch,” Herobrine said with a shrug. Something about that seemed familiar, like he had been meaning to…ask something…

“Are you not worried about the phantoms?”

Oh. Right. The phantoms. Had he mentioned that before? He felt like he had but he didn’t quite remember.

But then Herobrine looked at him. “You mentioned those last night as you were falling asleep. Are they mobs?”

Well, that answered that. “Yeah, they’re flying mobs that attack you if you don’t sleep for three days. And they’re terrifying. You know how you can usually just outrun any mob?” He waited for Herobrine to nod. “Well phantoms are fast enough that you’d never be able to outrun them. Luckily they can’t survive in the sun, just like other undead mobs.”

Herobrine hummed. “They sound formidable, but if they’re a mob, I should have no trouble dealing with them,” he assured them.

“Yeah but they might try to attack us if they’re after you,” Alex pointed out.

Herobrine scoffed. “I would never allow them to get close enough to put you two in danger.”

Alex shared a look with Steve and held up her hands. “Whatever man. If you wanna waste your energy or whatever keeping those things away, be my guest.”

Steve kinda agreed with Alex, but he didn’t doubt Herobrine could keep them away. They were just—scary, plain and simple. No other hostile mob had that much freedom and range to be able to track people down. He had a feeling he and Alex wouldn’t be able to fully believe Herobrine until they saw him deal with one themselves.

He and Alex removed their armor and packs, resting them behind the tree while the two of them sat propped up against the other side, watching as Herobrine started making a fire. Once he’d torn off enough branches to make a substantial pile of wood, the blast of fire that ignited it was a little extra, in Steve’s honest opinion. As soon as the fire was roaring, Herobrine once again sat practically inside of it. He was honestly surprised Herobrine’s pants weren’t catching on fire.

“You really don’t do too well in the cold, do you?” Alex observed. Herobrine shot a glare at her but it wasn’t heated.

“Great observational skills,” he said, somewhat mockingly. “How’d you figure that one out?”

“Ooh, you get sassy when you’re uncomfortable. Sorry Princess, didn’t mean to strike a nerve.” She smiled when Herobrine growled at her. Steve wondered if she derived genuine enjoyment out of tormenting him.

She stood up and stretched. “Welp, I think I’m gonna go get dinner tonight. No please, don’t get up,” she insisted, even though neither him nor Herobrine moved. “I can handle it.” She swiped her bow and from her pack dug out a single arrow, then wandered off into the plains. He almost said something about her armor but dropped it with a shake of his head.

Herobrine glared after her and waited until she was out of earshot before turning to him. “I’ve decided she’s a lost cause. Let’s go before she comes back.”

Steve smiled in sympathy, stretching his legs flat and holding his hands out to warm up from the fire. If the day had been cold, he didn’t want to think about how the night would be. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, as appealing as that sounds. I could talk to her, if you’d like?”

Herobrine was already shaking his head before he’d finished speaking. “No, that’s alright. I’ll give her another chance.”

Steve laughed. “Wow, so generous. She doesn’t know how lucky she is.”

“I’m glad you at least understand what a sacrifice I’m making.” Herobrine put a hand over his heart. “I’d also like to point out that she starts it.”

Steve’s cheeks were going to start hurting with how much he smiled around Herobrine. “I know. But seriously, let me know if she hurts your feelings and I’ll give her a stern talking to.”

Herobrine’s amused expression dropped as he offered Steve a flat look. Steve chuckled and rubbed his hands together, holding them back out towards the fire.

Quiet settled around them, disturbed only by the crackling of the fire. Steve kept stealing glances at Herobrine, who was fiddling with the end of the cloak and looking out across the plains. He wondered just how far Herobrine could see.

Of course, when he flicked his gaze up again—probably the tenth time in the last thirty seconds—Herobrine happened to look over and their eyes met. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the fire, blaming it for his suddenly hot face.

He was trying to think of something to say when Herobrine spoke up first. “How are you doing by the way?”

Still embarrassed, Steve peaked over at Herobrine, but the other had gone back to looking out at the plains. Steve contemplated the question, scooting a little away from the fire, feeling overheated.

He felt fine, which he knew Herobrine would give him attitude for saying but it was honestly true. Physically he was good—the potion had worked its magic and nothing hurt or was sore. And after last night he felt better about his role in everything that had transpired. It wasn’t all his fault.

“I’m good. As can be at least,” he added when Herobrine glanced over and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He smiled. “Really.”

Herobrine made a sound of acknowledgement and nodded, looking away again.

“So, I did mention phantoms last night, right?” Steve asked after a moment. He vaguely remembered something about phantoms right as he was falling asleep but the memory was fuzzy at best.

“Yes. You said if I don’t sleep for three days the phantoms will come. Rather ominous, might I add,” Herobrine replied with a wry smile.

Steve chuckled. “Well, I wasn’t kidding earlier. They are pretty terrifying.”

Herobrine snorted. “No more so than the Wither, I’m sure. Like I said, if it’s a mob, I’m not too worried.”

“But…” He wanted to argue, because the idea of purposely staying awake was unfathomable to him. He didn’t want them to argue but he couldn’t find it in him to let the subject go. He just had to be tactful about it. “Don’t you get tired?”

Herobrine furrowed his brows. Steve didn’t expect that question to trouble him so much.

“Have you ever seen a zombie sleep?” Herobrine asked after a beat.

He looked over, confused. Was that a real question? “Um…no?”

“What about a creeper?”

“…No? What are you talking about?”

“Just pointing out that m—non-human entities don’t seem to need sleep. My power comes from the Wither and some of its traits passed onto me. Is it so hard to believe that a lack of a need for sleep could transfer as well?”

“I…guess not,” Steve slowly agreed. Huh. He’d never considered the fact that there were beings in the Overworld that never slept. It was just different in this case because Herobrine looked human. But did that mean he wasn’t effected by whatever caused the phantoms to attack? He really didn’t want to test that. His life was hard enough without the addition of phantoms.

“Now, having said that, I did manage to sleep last night,” Herobrine admitted, drawing Steve out of his thoughts. “I don’t know for how long, but I definitely did.”

Well that was surprising, but in a good way. He’d so rarely seen Herobrine relax enough to sleep, he wouldn’t have thought his slurred afterthought about phantoms would finally convince the man to rest.

“Oh. Then I think we’ll be fine for the next couple days.”

“I suppose we’ll see.”

Alex returned shortly after their conversation died out. They could hear her calling out to them, asking Herobrine to help her drag the sheep she’d killed to their little camp. Herobrine teleported both the sheep and Alex—who took the sudden transition in space-time surprisingly well, Steve was a little jealous—and was about to get ready to prepare the sheep when Alex stopped him and pointed at the tree.

“Nuh uh. Sit. I got this.”

Herobrine shrugged and did as told, sitting next to Steve. The two of them watched Alex prepare dinner. Steve noticed that Alex was quiet, much more so than earlier, but he didn’t question it in case she’d been thinking about changing her mind about joining them, or something equally unpleasant. As much as he might enjoy just him and Herobrine traveling together, he really did believe Alex’s company would benefit them in the long run. Plus, her and Herobrine interacting was a great distraction from the boring walking they’d been doing. Not to mention all the fucked up shit in his life right now. He could use the extra friendly face.

Dinner was quick and before long, Alex laid her bedroll by the fire and bid them goodnight. Steve wasn’t too far behind, though he noticed that Herobrine was again sitting practically inside the fire. He was speaking before his brain fully caught up with his mouth.

“If you’re cold…um, if you want…y-you can…” Herobrine titled his head, waiting for him to finish speaking but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. What the fuck was he thinking, ‘how about we share the bedroll?’ Was he insane? His face felt red hot again, and again he blamed the fire. “N-Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Goodnight.”

The embarrassment burned deeper as he heard Herobrine chuckle. “Goodnight.”

The next morning, they set off after a quick breakfast. Alex was more animated, apparently having gotten over whatever funk she’d been in last night. She and Herobrine talked about Nether mobs after Alex mentioned her dislike of the Nether and Herobrine prodded into the reason why. Steve was content following behind them, still a little embarrassed even thinking about sharing a bed with Herobrine, let alone asking the guy outright. He enjoyed watching them get along, even though at this point he knew it wouldn’t last. They were like squabbling siblings, united for only a moment in time before they were at each other’s throats again.

With the sky still overcast, there were some mobs out in the plains. Steve noticed the wide berth they kept, sometimes walking towards them before turning around and fleeing. Sometimes the mobs just standing there burst into movement as they scrambled to get away. It made Steve wonder just how Herobrine’s powers worked.

“Oh great, spruce trees. Not really what I’d been hoping we’d see.”

How exactly did Herobrine keep mobs away? And how easy was it for him to understand mobs? Or could he only understand Nether mobs? When they had been bargaining with the piglins, Steve had been astounded that Herobrine could understand the grunts and oinks they made.

“What’s that?”

“Oh a fox! Look how cute it is! I wish they weren’t so flighty, look how much distance it’s putting between us. Wow, I’ve never actually seen one be that afraid.”

“I think that’s my fault. I’m broadcasting a general ‘stay away’ signal to mobs around us right now. Here, I can…”

Did Herobrine hear the piglins differently, or could he actually speak that guttural language? It was weird to think that mobs could speak at all, but if the piglins hadn’t been convincing enough, Buddy certainly was. Considering Herobrine probably hadn’t translated everything Buddy had ever said— not to mention all the times Herobrine had been absent and thus unable to translate—the enderman was fairly talkative.

He sighed. He missed Buddy. The guilt wasn’t as bad but he did still feel it. Buddy wouldn’t have gotten hurt if…if a lot of things Steve couldn’t help but think about over and over again. If he’d done this, if he’d done that, if he’d been stronger, faster, smarter. And so on and so forth. He hoped Buddy was okay. Herobrine had assured him that the enderman would be fine but Steve still fretted. He’d probably continue to do so until Buddy came back. Then he’d have a whole new problem, trying to explain Buddy’s presence to Alex without mentioning that Buddy had actually been the enderman stealing things from the village and partly the reason Blake had been hired by them in the first place.

“Ooooh, look how cute! I’ve never seen one this close up before.”

“It’s called a fox you said?”

“Yep. Cute litte feller, isn‘t it?”

“Hmph. I guess. What’s it do?”

“What do you mean ‘what’s it do?’ It’s a fox, it does…fox things, I don’t know. Do I look like an animal expert?”

“So you admit you don’t know something? Are you feeling sick?”

“Ha ha.”

Alex and Herobrine were crouched in front of a fox. Could Herobrine talk to foxes too? That would definitely be weird. Piglins and enderman at least looked like they had higher brain function so it was believable that they could communicate with another species but a simple mob like a fox? Steve highly doubted it. Unless whatever Herobrine did to control mobs counted as ‘speaking’ to them.

The sound of an enderman teleporting nearby grabbed Steve’s attention. Speaking of. He didn’t hesitate to look over.

The enderman screeched as soon as their eyes met, teleporting in front of him and swinging its arm down to attack. He cried out, more in surprise than fear, and jerked back, crossing his arms in front of his face to protect himself. He felt the enderman’s claws scratch against the bracer before the enderman burst into flames and collapsed. At least it died too quickly to start screaming. Steve blinked at it in shock before a hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around.

“What happened? Why did it attack you?” Herobrine asked. The level of concern on his face would have been flattering if Steve wasn’t stunned over what had just transpired.

“I…” Embarrassment seemed to be a permanent feeling while on their trip as his face warmed and he looked away from Herobrine’s intense gaze. “I looked at it.”

The silence that followed was very telling.

“You looked at it.”

Steve winced. There was definitely more than a hint of accusation in that statement. He tried to smile but he knew he wasn’t going to fool either of them.

“Yes?”

“Why would you do that?” Alex asked incredulously. Both her and Herobrine were staring at him like he’d gone crazy but he did have a valid reason.

He looked at Herobrine but the man spoke before he could, unhappy about realizing why Steve had looked at an enderman. “Buddy.”

He nodded. “Sorry.” Who would have thought that befriending an enderman was not that great a move. Steve had not even thought twice about looking directly at it, despite recognizing the sound as having come from an enderman. He was so used to Buddy’s presence that he’d become somewhat desensitized to the sound of endermen.

Herobrine sighed, running a hand down his face. “Just—don’t do that again. Please.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I’ll try, but no promises.”

“Who exactly is this ‘Buddy?’” Alex asked, hands on her hips. “This is the second time you’ve mentioned that name.”

“Uh…” Herobrine crossed his arms, offering no help when Steve looked at him. Sighing, Steve grimaced.

“Buddy is…a friend of ours…who…” He trailed off when Alex raised a brow, then sighed. Fuck it. “Buddy is an enderman who I befriended.”

The look on Alex’s face didn’t change, except she narrowed her eyes. She looked between him and Herobrine, probably expecting them to say they were joking, but the longer the silence, the deeper her frown became. Until—

“You named an enderman Buddy?”

Herobrine snickered and Steve scowled. “What? What’s wrong with Buddy?”

She smiled a bit. “Maybe if you were naming a dog.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Herobrine added, absolutely not helping at all. Steve pouted but it only made Herobrine smile. Bastard. It wasn’t so fun when he was in the spot light.

“Well when you manage to befriend an enderman, you can name it whatever you want. But I’m sticking with Buddy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Alex made a face. “How’d that even happen in the first place?”

The three of them started walking again.

“It just kinda stuck around.” He addressed Herobrine. “You told it to break my portal, right?”

Herobrine nodded.

“When I looked at it for the first time, it didn’t attack me or even seem aggressive. Then it just started following me and helping me. It saved me from some wither skeletons and…” He swallowed his sudden nerves, placing a hand over his stomach. “It found me after what happened with…w-with Blake.” Just saying the name made him shudder. He still couldn’t think about what happened without feeling uneasy.

“Is Buddy the enderman that was stealing from the village?” Alex asked and Steve was grateful for the change in subject, intentional or not.

“Yes, but I swear I didn’t tell it to do that,” he said emphatically. “I didn’t even know it was doing that until I caught it.”

Alex sighed. “Only you Steve.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Luckily they spent the rest of the day unbothered by anymore mobs. Herobrine stuck close to his side and seemed more alert than earlier, which Steve both appreciated and felt a little bad about. He didn’t mean to space out and look at some random enderman, and he was okay now so everyone could relax. The two of them were behaving like he was about to run up and try to hug a creeper or something equally insane. He didn’t want to be the reason their group was tense.

By the time night had fallen and they stopped to rest, they’d crossed through the taiga and found themselves in a flower forest. It wasn’t a large biome—they could see both the taiga behind them and the birch forest awaiting them—but it was a pleasant surprise. Steve had always appreciated the vibrant beauty of it, the calm presence the biome itself seemed to radiate.

The overcast sky had cleared just a bit over the course of the day so it was still cooler than Steve would have preferred, but the fire that Herobrine brought to life quickly chased those chills away. He then sat himself down right next to Steve so that their shoulders touched. He decided not to mention anything. Herobrine was just cold, that was all, and already the fire plus the body next to him was doing wonders to warm Steve up quickly. He didn’t mind being used as a personal heater, even though Herobrine was normally warmer than him.

Neither he nor Alex admitted to being that hungry so Herobrine forewent the hunt for the night. They instead snacked on the fruits in the pack, which, after several days, was starting to lighten. They would have to seek out a village or try foraging for food soon.

It was silent for most of the time, which Steve blamed himself for. His accident with the enderman had put a bit of a damper on the mood, as if reminding everyone that there was danger ahead. Their journey was not one of leisure and fun—there were in danger of being found by people who were like Herobrine, who wanted things that didn’t bode well for Steve.

He frowned. He wondered just how much they were like Herobrine. Could they teleport? Were they strong? Could they control mobs? Could they heal? So many questions and variables. The scope of the problem was overwhelming if he let himself think about it. It was a group of unknown numbers and unknown capabilities against pretty much just Herobrine. Steve wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he or Alex could take Herobrine on in a fight, even if they teamed up, so there was no way they’d be of any use against more people like Herobrine.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt Herobrine’s shoulder bump more forcefully against his. He looked over to see Herorbine staring at him.

“You’ve looked gloomy all day. What’s wrong?”

Steve frowned. “I’m not gloomy.”

Alex snorted. “Uh, yeah dude, you totally are. Ever since that thing with the enderman.”

“I thought you guys were down about that, honestly,” he admitted, glancing between them.

“No I’m good,” Alex said. Herobrine nodded.

“I thought you were troubled by what happened.”

Steve blinked at them, then smiled. “And I thought you two were troubled by it.”

Alex chuckled. “Wow, we belong together. Trio of uncommunicative idiots.”

Steve felt his mood lighten a bit, glad to know they all seemed to be on the same page and amused that they’d been assuming the same thing about each other. He just had to have faith that they could handle anything that came at them. And even when Alex inevitably left them, even if he and Herobrine had to run forever, at least they’d have each other.

Alex flopped onto her back. “I think tomorrow we should try to find a village, like, for real though. There won’t be one in the birch forest, but hopefully we can spot one relatively soon.”

“There is a village nearby,” Herobrine said. Steve raised a brow at him while Alex lifted her head to frown.

“How do you know that?” She asked accusatorially. Herobrine shrugged.

“I can hear it. Faintly, but it’s unmistakably human activity.”

“Which direction is it coming from?”

Herobrine pointed a little to the left of the way they would have continued. Alex looked that way and made a sound of acknowledgment.

“Well hot damn, tomorrow morning you’ll have to lead us there. Hopefully they have a cartographer or at least a library.”

She said goodnight after that and curled up in the bedroll.

Steve was also tired but, just like yesterday, he noticed that Herobrine was cold and couldn’t stop himself from saying something, even though he was already blushing before he even started speaking.

“You know, if you’re cold…you could, um—“ Just say it, get it over with! “W-We could…share?”

When Herobrine looked at him questioningly, his expression at least didn’t seem repulsed by the idea, but his lack of an immediately response sent Steve’s heart racing in anticipation.

“Share?”

Oh Gods, was Herobrine really going to make him spell it out?

“The…bedroll?” He answered, unable to keep his tone from sounding hopeful despite the heat spreading across his face.

Herobrine blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, then frowned.

“You would want to?”

“Well…I mean, yeah?” The pure perplexion in Herobrine’s tone managed to lessen his embarrassment somewhat. Was it really so surprising? “I-If it helped us warm up, you know, it’s pretty cold outside right now. I’m sure it’s worse for you.” Of course he did have an ulterior motive for offering to literally sleep together but using it as an excuse to warm up was a good backup. 

Herobrine seemed genuinely surprised by his offer. He looked at the fire and appeared to be thinking about it, while Steve silently died from embarrassment.

He was about to retract his statement and forego the whole thing when Herobrine said, “I appreciate the offer. It’s…strange, having someone care like that.” Herobrine smiled at him. “Strange but not unwelcome. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll take you up on that.”

Steve smiled back, his heart racing but feeling lighter than ever, but then he realized what Herobrine said. “Wait, why tomorrow?”

“You said to sleep every three days, right? To avoid the phantoms?”

“I—Oh. I thought you weren’t gonna do that?”

Herobrine shifted a bit, so he was leaning back on his hands. He shrugged a shoulder. “Originally I wasn’t, but you seem pretty freaked by them. So I could make the effort to try and sleep more. If only for now to avoid them while we’re dealing with all this other bullshit.” He made a motion like he was rolling his eyes. “I think in the future I’d like to try to summon one but for now, I’ll make it easy on you.”

Steve was grateful. He really didn’t want to deal with phantoms on top of everything else. “Thank you. It’s…” He chuckled as he realized what he was about to say. “It’s strange having someone care enough to do that.” He playfully nudged Herobrine’s shoulder with his own. “But not unwelcome.”

Herobrine chuckled as well. “Touché.”

He said goodnight and couldn’t stop smiling as he drifted off to sleep.

Morning was a quick affair and soon enough they were off. Herobrine lead them perpendicular to their original path, through the flower forest and over a hill. Once at the top, they could see that the taiga wrapped around the flower forest until it reached the birch forest. From the hill, they could see the distant smoke from a building or campfire.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Alex said. “Look at that, you are useful for something.” She beamed at Herobrine and slapped his back. The look on his face had Steve coughing to stifle a laugh. Herobrine glared at both of them regardless, though his expression softened at Steve, into something more like a pout.

“I thought you were on my side?”

He patted Herobrine on the back. “I am Big Guy, I am.”

They walked through the taiga until they were about halfway through it, between the hill and the village. Alex turned to address them.

“Alright, I’m gonna go scout the village out, chat them up a bit and see what they’re like. I might just grab what I need if they have it but if you guys wanna check it out…?”

He and Herobrine looked at each other, both their faces reflecting the same thing—a distinct dislike of that idea. He looked back over at Alex and shook his head. “Nah, I think we’re good.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourselves. I’ll be back in a bit.” She trudged off towards the village and Steve sighed, leaning back against a tree.

As the first few minutes of silence passed and Steve grew increasingly bored of just standing there, he looked over at Herobrine. The man was standing with his arms crossed, staring in the direction Alex had left. He thought about all the questions he’d been wondering about yesterday and decided now was as good a time as any to ask some.

“Can you really hear the village?”

Herobrine glanced at him. “Yes. Metal striking metal, the general chatter of the villagers, animals. Nothing super distinct, just enough to know there’s a human presence nearby.”

“Does it bother you? Being able to hear that well?”

“It did when we arrived here. If I really focus I can hear enough to drive anyone insane, like bugs crawling on the grass, that sort of thing.”

“Really? How do you ignore it?”

Herobrine smiled. “I have you and Alex to distract me. Helps with a lot, actually.”

Such a simple sentence shouldn’t be able to make Steve feel so happy but that’s exactly what it did. It was an innocuous thing too—to have his very presence be of use to someone, wanted in a way, was something he thought he’d never experience. This was the connection he’d had ripped from him when his parents died and the Overworld shunned him.

“Then I’m glad I could be a distraction,” he said, purely so he wasn’t standing around and smiling like an idiot.

“But you’re more than that, you know that right?”

He titled his head. “What do you mean?”

Herobrine clearly wasn’t thrilled about that response because he immediately looked troubled. He looked away and hunched in on himself a bit. But then he seemed to come to a decision about something as he straightened up and approached Steve, determination set in his expression.

“You’re more than just a distraction,” Herobrine clarified, coming to a stop close enough that Steve had to tilt his head back to keep eye contact. “You have to understand, you are the first person in my life that I feel…that…everything just comes naturally, you know?” Herobrine reached down and grabbed Steve’s forearm, lifting it so the gouge in the bracer from the enderman was facing upward so they could see it. He used his other hand to trace his fingers over it. “But…” Herobrine took a deep breath, turning Steve’s arm over so they could see the branded runes. “I think there’s more to it. The thought of you in danger or hurt is unbearable to me.” He sounded pained by just the thought. Steve felt his heart lurch in sympathy. “When you were injured by that ghast, after you left I spent that time wandering the fortress in a daze, desperate for you to come back for reasons I didn’t understand. I would stand and stare at your portal, lost in though wondering when you were coming back and why you hadn’t already.” He smiled softly and Steve’s heart skipped. “Spending time with you in that warped forest is the happiest memory I have. You were back and it was like you’d never left. It was like I was…whole again. That whatever the Wither did to make me as I am is undone in your presence. That all you have to do is smile at me and I…” Herobrine trailed off and Steve just stared at him in astonishment. Was this what he thought it was? Was Herobrine serious? He chased that thought away. Just look at him idiot, his brain whispered to him, does he look like he’s joking? But he was hesitant to speak. He felt the same way about a lot of that. That he was complete when he was with Herobrine, that his life wasn’t an endless cycle of fear, uncertainty, and disappointment. He thought about all the times Herobrine had done something and it had made his heart leap, or his cheeks warm. He knew he had some feelings, but he’d thought them superficial—a crush at best because Herobrine was nice to him. He’d been dead set on ignoring them and letting them fade because, surely, the universe wasn’t kind enough to let him meet Herobrine and also allow them to fall for each other. 

“Herobrine…” He said softly, unsure what to say. He didn’t want to acknowledge these feelings only for things to blow up in his face. His entire life had been nothing but the universe taking everything that made him happy. He didn’t think he could handle it if the universe took Herobrine too.

He pulled his arm—which was still being held between them in Herobrine’s loose grip—back enough so he could take Herobrine’s hand in his, squeezing tightly. His heart was trying to pound right out of his chest. “I—“

He was cut off by the sound of a nearby explosion. The loud boom in the otherwise silence startled him, making him jump and gasp.

“What was that?” He asked. Herobrine could not look unhappier as he looked towards the direction of the village, then pulled his hand out of Steve’s and turned around, placing himself between Steve and whatever he sensed. Steve lifted himself onto his tip-toes to see over Herobrine’s shoulder but all he could see through the trees were more trees.

A large cloud of smoke was rising above the forest. The explosion must have been powerful. But when nothing more happened—no second explosion, no shouting or sounds of distress(that Steve could hear)—he slowly started to relax. He was wary to believe it was a coincidence, but miners sometimes used TNT for expanding their operations. Or maybe a supercharge creeper happened to be nearby. Maybe it was nothing.

He put his hand on Herobrine’s arm and noticed how tense he was. “Is there something wrong?” He asked quietly. The explosion had ceased all other sounds of nature, leaving them in dead silence. It didn’t feel right breaking it.

“I…I can’t tell,” Herobrine answered. Despite his defensive posture, he sounded so confused. It was making Steve more apprehensive the longer nothing happened.

“Do you think it could have been planned?” He suggested, trying to rationalize why there’d be that loud of an explosion. “TNT in a cave maybe?”

“It wasn’t underground,” Herobrine said. “It was the village.”

“It was?” He gasped. “Alex! We have to—“

He lurched forward, needing to find Alex and make sure she was okay, but Herobrine caught his hand and halted him. He looked back desperately.

“What are you doing? We have to find her!”

“There’s no screaming,” Herobrine explained calmly, but it just served to confound Steve. “That explosion was in or very near the village but there’s no screaming. In fact, the village has gone silent.”

Well that didn’t help. “C-Couldn’t that mean it was…destroyed?” If Alex was gone—he felt his heart ache, a sharp pain that stole his breath away. He squeezed Herobrine’s hand tightly.

“Please, we have to find her.”

The indecision on his face was clear as day as he looked between the trees and Steve, but he eventually sighed, his shoulders dropping a bit as he started to relax.

He opened his mouth but didn’t speak as he jerked his head back toward the trees, tensing again. He pulled Steve close and stepped fully in front of him just as Alex stumbled from between the trees. She was covered in dirt and panting heavily, dropping to her knees once she made it to them.

“Alex!” Steve exclaimed, moving out from behind Herobrine. Though tense, Herobrine thankfully didn’t try to stop him.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, kneeling beside her. He helped her sit back, wincing as she groaned and gasped. He looked her over hurriedly but couldn’t spot anything immediately wrong.

“My leg,” she breathed, shakily pointing to her left leg. Steve felt along it gingerly and followed the cues of her reactions to find a deep gash on her calf. It was a miracle she managed to run this far with that bad of an injury.

He brushed aside the shredded remains of her pants around the wound to better see it, smiling in sympathy every time she winced or cursed in pain. But though deep, the wound didn’t appear life threatening. Thank the Gods for small mercies.

“What happened?” He asked, pulling his pack around and digging for the bandages he’d shoved inside. Once he located them he unravelled some and wrapped it tightly around her leg, ignoring her hiss lest he stop because he felt bad for hurting her more.

“We need…” She paused and grit her teeth, whining when Steve tied the bandage closed. “…to leave,” she panted out, shutting her eyes and swaying slightly back and forth. The concern he felt for her skyrocketed. Her wound might look normal but what if something else was wrong? What if she was developing an infection or suffering from blood loss?

But she took a deep breath and seemed to pull herself together a bit. She grabbed Steve’s shoulder and made to stand up, and Steve immediately protested.

“Wait, hold on, you shouldn’t be standing—“

“We need to leave,” she repeated, stronger as she struggled against Steve trying to dislodge her grip. “I saw the people you were talking about. The ones with the white eyes.”

Steve’s heart dropped and he looked over at Herobrine in dismay. There was still so much left unsaid between them, and now they had to deal with this?

Herobrine walked over and crouched, then scooped Alex into his arms in one fluid motion. The look of tired delight on her face contrasted Steve’s worried one perfectly.

“Then she’s right, we’re leaving. Now.” Steve scrambled to grab his pack and swing it onto his shoulders again as Herobrine started walking away from the village, back the way they’d come.

“I saw them there when I arrived and…” she paused, gritting her teeth as she was jostled before continuing, “…I tailed them a bit, hoping to overhear their conversation. Unfortunately they weren’t talking about anything pertaining to our—well, your current situation. I don’t think they were there because of you—like, I don’t think they know you two are here specifically, I think it’s just pure bad luck that we both happened to come across the same village at the same time. But anyway, one of them, there was a disagreement with the blacksmith and out of nowhere the furnaces exploded. It was…” She trailed off, a far away look passing over her expression before she snapped out of it with a start and continued. “It was horrible. The entire building was destroyed and the ones around it heavily damaged. It didn’t seem like a normal explosion, almost like it had been amplified somehow. I could see people stumbling from underneath the wreckage, calling for loved ones. A piece of wood from one of the buildings split off and impaled my leg. I think the adrenaline must have kicked in ‘cause I barely felt it until I met up with you guys again.” She frowned. “Hurts like a bitch now though.”

Steve felt for her, he really did, because he knew what it did to a person to see a village and its people ruthlessly torn apart. But something about her recount was off. If she was telling the truth, she would be directly contradicting what Herobrine had said about there being a distinct lack of screaming.

Which meant one of them must have been lying.

That realization felt like a knife twisting directly into his heart, so visceral he could feel the pain in his chest. The crushing doubt he had about who to trust was threatening to suffocate him. Obviously he wanted to trust Herobrine, and he’d already had doubts about Alex but she was helping them, she’d given them potions and was kind to him. He wanted to trust her as he’d never been able to trust another human. But he couldn’t bear the thought of Herobrine betraying him. However, he couldn’t deny that it made more sense for Herobrine to be the one playing him. As much as it hurt, as much as it felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest and mercilessly stomped on at the mere thought, it just made sense. Herobrine and these people were the same. They all got their power from the Wither. And Steve had not encountered a single white eyed individual until after he’d met Herobrine. What if Herobrine had somehow gotten a message to them? What if Herobrine had been using him to escape from the Nether this whole time? What if Herobrine was lying every single time he spoke?

Lost in his spiraling thoughts of horrified realization and doubt, he completely missed when Herobrine stopped, causing Steve to run into his back. He blinked and peaked around Herobrine, still faintly sick at the notion of either of them betraying him but curious as to what had stopped them. His eyes widened when he saw it.

There was a man standing in their path. He had short black hair that was longer on one side and was wearing a tight fitting, simple black sleeveless tunic over a borderline unhealthy appearing lithe build. He had no visible weapons but the danger he presented was visible enough in the glow of his white eyes.

“And here I was under the impression you were going to be hard to find.” The smile he directed at them could only be described as predatory. “It must be my lucky day.”

“What do you want?” Herobrine growled. Steve could tell he was uncomfortable with their positions—the stranger seemingly unarmed and Herobrine with his hands full.

The strange man laughed as if genuinely amused. “That’s a bit of a loaded question.” He shrugged. “I want a lot of things. But right now, I want a fight.” He was looking at Herobrine, and then put a hand on his chest over his heart. “Oh but where are my manners? I’m Sini.”

None of them said anything, but Sini chuckled. “Well, that’s alright. I already know who you are. Now, if you agree to come with me, I promise to leave your…” He trailed off as he looked at Steve and Alex, slight disgust crossing his features before it smoothed out again. “…humans alone.”

“Why would I believe that?”

Sini blinked at that. “Well, if you’d like me to just kill the girl and take the boy, say the word. I just figured the classic ‘if I come with you will you spare my friends’ approach would work better to incentivize you.”

“And you’d honor that? You’d leave them alone?”

“But of course.”

The two stared at each other in silence before Herobrine slowly lowered Alex to the ground. Steve immediately grabbed onto Herobrine’s arm.

“What are you doing?” He asked, crouching to help settle Alex on the ground. She was still conscious just very much out of it as all she did was whine as she was jostled. He could only imagine the insults she would be making right now if she was in her right mind.

“Trust me,” Herobrine said, surprising Steve by smiling at him and cupping his cheek. “Okay?”

He searched Herobrine’s face but found nothing to doubt. The seriousness of the moment kept him from blushing more than just the tiniest bit, too desperately worried to feel flustered. He nodded but was unable to conjure a smile in return.

“I trust you,” he whispered, remaining on the ground to support Alex while Herobrine stood up and crossed the distance to stand in front of Sini.

“Excellent choice, if I may say. This will make things much easier.”

“I didn’t come over here to listen to you talk.”

“Eager to get started hm? Fair enough.”

And Sini placed his hand on Herobrine’s shoulder and they disappeared, just like that.

The realization didn’t set in until a few seconds later. In shock, he stared where Herobrine had just been standing. He was…gone. Who knew where they might have teleported to and if Steve and Alex continued on…he might never see Herobrine again.

That thought unravelled him. His heart ached and his eyes burned. The heartache—the grief—was nearly overwhelming, but a sound of pain from Alex brought him somewhat out of it. He looked down at her and wiped his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath to try and calm himself.

No, everything was going to be okay. Herobrine had said to trust him and Steve did, with everything he had. And right now Alex needed help, which meant Steve just had to suck it up and get to work, and that started with making sure Alex was safe.

He was about to inspect her wound again when the sound of teleportation right behind him made him jump and spin around. He gasped, staring up at Sini in fear.

“Y-You said—“

“I lied.”

A hand grabbed his arm and he looked to Alex, his heart racing as he realized the helplessness of his situation. Alex was hurt, how was she going to get help, what if she didn’t make it?

The hand around his arm jerked him up and away from Alex and then—

Nothing happened.

Steve dared to look at Sini. The man was staring at where his hand was wrapped around Steve’s arm like he’d never seen it before.

“What the fuck?” He said. “Why can’t I teleport?” He snapped his gaze to Steve’s. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t—ah!” He cut off with a pained gasp as the hand around his arm tightened. The deep ache of the bone moving wrong made his stomach roll.

“Don’t lie to me,” Sini snarled, friendly façade gone. “You must have done som—“

He didn’t get a chance to finish as Herobrine reappeared next to him, already in the motion of a punch. The move was too sudden for Sini to dodge and Herobrine connected directly to the side of his head, strong enough to knock him off his feet and into the trees. Steve’s arm was pulsing faintly as the blood rushed back in but it took second place to the shock and relief of seeing Herobrine again.

Herobrine placed himself between Sini and them and spared a glance over his shoulder. “You need to take Alex and get out of here. Go to the flower forest and I’ll find you.”

Steve wanted to refuse, he wanted to keep Herobrine in his sight but he knew from experience that his presence was only a hinderance when Herobrine was fighting. So he swallowed his pride and nodded.

He crouched next to Alex and pulled her arm over his shoulder. She made a sound low in her throat as they stood.

“I know,” he said, wrapping his other arm around her waist. “But we need to get to safety. Then you can rest.” He was worrying more and more that something else was wrong. Was her wound infected like he’d thought earlier? Or was the shock of the explosion just making her seem more out of it than usual?

“This…fucking blows…” she muttered and Steve smiled grimly.

“You can say that again.”

They didn’t make it far before Sini stumbled out from between the trees, any sign of his previous friendly demeanor gone.

“You’re strong old man, I’ll give you that. But you’re not the only one.”

Herobrine drew his sword. “We’ll see.”

Sini growled and lunged. He still didn’t have a weapon but was fairly effective in deflecting Herobrine’s swings with his hands, dodging or redirecting the blows.

Steve had to push aside his concern and turn away from the fight. He wouldn’t be able to help anyway, and Alex needed him. So with a heavy heart and a bad feeling, he hurriedly escorted Alex to safety.

Unfortunately they didn’t make it far before Sini appeared in front of them. There was a cut along his cheek and he was winded.

Steve jerked back but there was only so much he could do while supporting Alex. Sini reached for him but Herobrine appeared between them, kicking Sini away.

“Coward. Leave them out of this.”

Holding his stomach, Sini wheezed out a chuckle. “But where’s the fun in that? You’re so worried about these simple humans, it would be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

Herobrine growled and attacked, swinging the sword in a flurry of graceful moves that all lead into each other fast enough that Sini had to teleport away to avoid them. But Herobrine didn’t let him escape and kept pace with him, once again drawing them away.

Ignoring the fight was a challenge, but Steve did his best as he started walking again. Herobrine wasn’t going to be beaten, Steve had to have faith in that. They still had to talk, Steve still had things he wanted—needed—to say.

They made it all the way to the flower forest before being accosted again. Sini appeared before them, blocking their path and looking a lot worse for wear. There was a cut on his neck bleeding sluggishly and his arms were also littered with cuts and nicks. He was panting and looked pissed off as he spotted them. Steve was much too burdened supporting Alex to prevent Sini from lunging forward and grabbing onto her, teleporting her away.

Steve gasped. “Alex!” He shouted, running forward a bit but it was useless—she was gone. The devastation was brief before Sini appeared directly in front of him and grabbed his neck, shoving him against a tree. His head knocked painfully against it and though his breathing increased in fear from the threat of being strangled, Sini wasn’t holding him in a tight grip. Not yet at least.

And that’s how Herobrine found them.

Steve saw him appear behind Sini and stop short, fear flashing across his face before he schooled it somewhere between determination and anger.

Sini suddenly tightened his grip, enough to make breathing difficult but not enough to make him panic. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see Herobrine falter.

“Caring for humans is pointless,” Sini said, turning back to look at Steve. He narrowed his eyes, his mouth twisting into a sneer. “They’re weak and only get in the way.” He increased the pressure of his grip and Steve struggled to get air into his lungs. He finally lifted his hands to Sini’s wrist, pulling and scratching but the man didn’t so much as flinch. Steve’s chest started burning and his throat ached, feeling like it was being crushed. The panic set in as his body realized it wasn’t getting any air. He closed his eyes and couldn’t stop the tears as they trailed down his cheeks. He heard muffled voices over the blood rushing in his ears until Sini’s grip loosened enough for him to breath again. The influx of air made him cough violently in between heavy breaths, his throat burning.

“See?” Sini was saying. “So fragile.”

“Alright, you made your point,” Herobrine said. Steve opened his eyes a crack and could see that Herobrine had abandoned the tough front and was openly expressing his distress over Steve’s safety. It made him feel terrible for once again being a hinderance to the other while simultaneously making him feel warm that Herobrine truly cared this much. They really needed to finish their talk.

“Have I?” Sini asked. He was still facing Steve and smiled. “Drop your sword.”

Herobrine did so without hesitation, throwing it to the side. Sini didn’t bother glancing back.

“Good. I’m glad you can listen to reason. Perhaps you’ll take my advice about humans. They make you weak. They make you—“

Steve saw Herobrine disappear and reappear directly behind Sini just as he saw a flash of light and Sini smirk. In the same breath, Sini released him and spun around, thrusting the sword he’d summoned forward.

“Predictable.”

Suddenly free, Steve slumped against the tree. But even though his throat was no longer being constricted, it still felt like he couldn’t breathe. His heart was beating loud in his ears. Time seemed to stop as he stared at Herobrine over Sini’s shoulder, the horrified realization slowly setting in. Herobrine stared back with wide eyes. He opened his mouth and a steady stream of blood spilled over his lips.

Sini yanked the black, glimmering sword back. Herobrine staggered away from them and looked down in shock, pressing shaky hands against his stomach. They came back blood-stained. 

Herobrine dropped to his knees and looked back up, meeting Steve’s horrified gaze. He could see the quiet agony in Herobrine’s face at the realization that he’d been stabbed through the stomach.

“How disappointing,” Sini commented, holding the dark blade up and admiring the blood dripping down it. “I don’t get what the others see in you. You may be the first of our kind but you’re nothing special after all, are you?” He brought up his leg and placed his foot on Herobrine’s shoulder, kicking to send Herobrine onto his back. That finally snapped Steve out of his horrified shock and he ran forward, trying to push Sini away.

“Stop! You already won!”

With a laugh, Sini grabbed his hand and twisted his arm behind his back. Steve gasped at the sharp pain as his arm stretched more than it could handle but was unable to free himself. He was helpless as Sini turned them to face Herobrine, who wasn’t moving where he’d been pushed, just breathing quickly with a hand pressed to his stomach. He looked like he was in shock.

“Are you certain you want this to protect you? After all, I could take you to our village right now and who would stop me?” That sent a spark of fear down his spine and he tensed, but Sini laughed again. “You’re lucky I don’t care about our ‘ultimate goal,’ or whatever. But you might want to find someone better suited to protect you.”

Steve started struggling at that and Sini let him go without a fight. He staggered over to Herobrine and leaned over him protectively, glaring at Sini.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said and Sini shrugged.

“Suit yourself kid. I’ll see you for round two.” With a wink, Sini disappeared.

Finally alone, his brief defiance shattered as he looked down at Herobrine, tears springing to his eyes. Herobrine was still awake but his breathing was labored and the ground around his midsection was stained red.

His own hands trembling badly, he cupped Herobrine’s face and turned it towards him. “Please, please be okay.” He saw Herobrine’s eyes open a bit and his hand raised shakily, just barely brushing his fingertips against Steve’s cheek before he went limp.

Steve was too distraught to decide what to do first. He pulled up the bottom of Herobrine’s shirt to see the wound. The black material was darker than usual and made shiny by the sheer amount of blood saturated into the cloth.

On Herobrine’s side was a clean slice, leaking blood with every breath he took. The sight of it made Steve panic and his mind blanked. What did he do first? He couldn’t decide. He was shaking and his vision was blurring with tears. He pulled his pack off his shoulders and hurriedly dug through it, uncaring that he was getting blood everywhere. He pulled out an extra shirt he’d packed and the roll of bandages. Wadding the shirt up, he pressed it against the wound, trying to stanch the bleeding. Herobrine shifted, his face pinched in pain, and Steve’s smile was watery as he held the shirt down.

“Y-You’ll be o-o-okay,” he promised, feeling like his world was falling apart. “Please, j-just…hang on. I—“ He started crying in earnest, feeling guilty and helpless. “I-I can’t do this w-without you.”

He didn’t know how long he sat there, holding the shirt to the wound and sobbing. By the time he heard the shuffling of someone approaching, the once teal shirt was completely drenched in blood.

The sound of footsteps alerted him and he struggled to reach for the sword Herobrine had previously tossed aside. He ended up having to use his foot to draw it closer to him and held it in his off hand, ignoring how the blade shook. He was in no condition to fight but he would give all he had to protect Herobrine, just as Herobrine had proven he would for Steve.

He probably made for a pathetic sight, hunched over Herobrine’s unconscious body, covered in blood, his face red and blotchy from crying, shaking like a leaf.

The shuffling got closer and closer and though the sword shook more as he started trembling harder in anticipation, he kept his grip on it. His resolve would not crumble, he was going to protect them with his life it it came to that—

When Alex stumbled out from the trees, Steve did all the things he just promised he wouldn’t. He dropped the sword and fresh tears, both of grief and relief, spilled down his cheeks.

“A-A-Alex,” he cried, and through blurry vision he saw her struggle to rush over to them.

“Oh my Gods. Steve, what happened?”

He fumbled his way through an explanation until he could hardly speak. She shushed him gently and came around to sit next to him, pulling him into a hug. He wrapped the hand he didn’t have pressed against Herobrine’s stomach around her, mumbling an apology about the blood.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay,” she reassured him, pulling back and looking down at Herobrine. “You did a good job stopping the bleeding. Now we should wrap it up and move to safety, okay?” He nodded and hesitated, but removed his hand, leaving the shirt.

All at once the events of the day hit him and exhaustion set in. He sat back on his heels and clenched his hands over his thighs, taking deep breaths. He knew he needed to calm down, he wasn’t helping anyone by crying his eyes out. But as soon as he opened his eyes and saw the blood marring his hands and his clothes and practically all of Herobrine’s midsection, his throat closed up and he felt more tears gather in his eyes, threatening to fall.

Letting out a breath, he looked over at Alex, trying to muster up a grateful smile. “O-Okay.”

Together they shoddily wrapped the wound with the bandages Steve had pulled out earlier. Steve was charged with holding Herobrine upright while Alex quickly wrapped the bandages. He absentmindedly tightened his grip on Herobrine’s arm for his own comfort and frowned as they worked. Alex glanced up and noticed his expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“He…he mentioned that his healing ability was better than ever, but…I don’t see any changes.”

Alex made a sound of acknowledgement. “Hm. Well I won’t claim to be an expert on this kinda thing. Maybe it’ll happen all at once?”

Steve shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know.” He reached down and gently brushed his hand over Herobrine’s side near the wound. “I hope so.”

When Alex stood, Steve finally remembered that she’d been hurt. He looked down at her leg. Her pants on that leg had been ripped up to the knee, exposing the bandage he’d applied. It was thoroughly bled through.

“I can’t believe I forget,” he said, getting her attention and pointing to her leg. “Are you okay? You shouldn’t be putting so much stress on it.”

“Don’t worry about me right now. That crazy asshole teleported me closer to the village and one of the villagers gave me a splash potion. Not the most effective but it helped.” She winced when she shifted, putting weight on her bad leg. “Well, it helped a little,” she amended.

Steve still didn’t like it, but if she said she was okay, he’d believe her. He looked down at Herobrine’s slack face and felt his heart twist. He wished they could all be okay.

“What about you?” She asked and he looked up.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.”

She gave him a look and knelt next to him. “Are you sure?” She reached forward and encouraged him to tilt his head back a bit. “You’re neck is bruised.”

Was it? Well that wasn’t a surprise but he barely noticed anything. He supposed it felt a little sore, but he had too much to worry about right now to be worrying about himself. Namely, Herobrine and Alex.

He tilted his head back down, smiling at her. “Really, I’m fine. I barely even feel it.”

She sighed and stood. “Well, we’ll take care of it anyway when we settle down somewhere.” She looked around, then up. The fading smoke from the explosion was barely visible but it was enough to tell which direction the village was. She squinted at the trees around them and then nodded.

“I’m pretty sure our camp was that way,” she said, pointing. “We should head back over there and then I’ll see if the village had anymore potions they can spare.”

They each took one of Herobrine’s arms over their shoulders and started through the trees back to their camp. Steve squeezed the hand he was using to keep Herobrine upright.

Please Gods, let him be okay.

Chapter Text

He was floating in a gray fog. Sight, sound, and feeling were experienced as if secondhand—there was a disconnect between the real existence of his body and what his brain was currently relaying to him. And at the edge of the fog, swarming like angry bees, there was an edge of panic. Something had gone wrong and he was not where he ought to be, and it was like his brain was trying to tell him that but something was keeping him here.

He drifted, in this in between. Faintly, he could hear muffled voices and feel phantom touches. Pressure along his side. His arms and hands being squeezed. He looked at them in curiosity, something in the back of his mind screaming at him to remember.

Then, between one blink and the next, he was in a familiar and unpleasant place that immediately set him on edge.

The Nether looked the same. Under his boots was the same spongy netherrack. The same sluggish lavafalls illuminated small areas around him. The same sounds of distant crying and ominous ambience, like the Nether itself was a living, breathing entity.

He looked behind him. He recognized the portal he was in front of. The hole he had filled in. It was Steve’s.

He looked ahead. Where once used to proudly stand a grand fortress was now the smoldering remains of a sad, forgotten ruin. Nothing save the massive pillars that used to serve as foundations was left.

And floating above it all like the God of Destruction it was, was the Wither itself.

He tried to think rationally. This wasn’t real—it couldn’t be. It was a dream, taking advantage of his temporary weakness. He was not going to fall victim to the Wither’s mind games, not now or ever again. He just had to think of Steve, of his sleeping face in the moonlight or his blushing face as he stumbled his way through an offer to share a bedroll. Those memories were enough to ground and reassure him. Whatever the Wither wanted with him, he had to remember that he didn’t have to listen to it anymore. The only thing telling him what to do was his heart, and it was screaming at him to wake up and find Steve.

The Wither of course noticed him and slowly floated its way towards him. Herobrine crossed his arms, taking a deep breath. The Wither expected rage and hesitation and shame from him, among other things, but it would hold no power over him anymore. After 200 years, he was realizing he didn’t need it like he’d come to think—that the Wither had been lying to him to keep him trapped and docile. But he was stronger now, mentally. The Wither had to be able to sense that.

Once they were face to faces, the Wither stopped. It was floating before him in all its glory but Herobrine didn’t react beyond a slightly deepening to his frown. He had nothing to say. The Wither would have to initiate.

Which it did, surprisingly enough, moments later.

Have you though about what you’ve done?

Herobrine almost burst out laughing, but instead he just gave the Wither a look like it was the stupidest motherfucker he’d ever heard speak.

“You mean how I should have done it sooner? Yeah I’ve been thinking about it,” he sneered. The Wither’s impassive faces didn’t change but he could imagine the level of anger it was feeling. If this was real he was sure its power would send him to his knees. Instead he leaned to the side, to glance around the Wither at the remains of the fortress. “Have a little temper tantrum and tire yourself out?”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead right now. Probably twice over, which was impressive considering the Wither’s limited visible emotional range.

Shut your mouth. You’ve sorely disappointed me but I’m willing to give you the chance to redeem yourself.

Herobrine could honestly not believe the Wither would say that or even believe he wanted to come back. What, did it think he left the Nether against his will? Did it think him a rebellious child that had no choice but to return home with his tail tucked between his legs? Or was it really that conceited?

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore,” he said, matter-of-factly. “When you can talk to me face to face, maybe I’ll listen to whatever bullshit you have to say but until then, I don’t want to see your sad, pathetic faces ever again.”

The Wither lurched forward and the ground around it cratered with the sheer force of its presence.

You dare speak to me like that? You would not be alive if not for me. Your very existence is because of me!

Despite his own annoyance and anger regarding the Wither bringing him here, he was impressed his escape from the Nether was affecting it this badly. How long had it been floating stationary in the fortress, watching as Herobrine’s life fell apart? And not even a week had passed and the Wither was acting out of control, like a child that lost its favorite plaything. It was pathetic and only drove home how unhinged this unruly mob truly was. Because that’s all it was—a mob. A powerful one to be sure, but a mob nonetheless. And Herobrine didn’t make it a habit to be scared of mobs.

“The headache I’m experiencing right now is because of you,” he said snidely. “You must have forgotten that I’m the one who brought you into the Overworld. If anything you should be thanking me.”

The Wither growled, floating higher to seem bigger and intimidate him but he wasn’t falling for it. This wasn’t real, after all, and he wasn’t going to allow the Wither to have any influence over him in his own damn mind.

You’ve become bolder in your insubordination. I should have killed that miserable little human pet you took a liking to the moment it stepped foot in the Nether.

Herobrine bared his teeth and uncrossed his arms to hold his fists at his sides. “Don’t talk about him that way!”

Oh? You care about this human? Then I will enjoy giving him a slow, painful death—

“Coward!” Herobrine snarled. “If you were strong enough you wouldn’t have to resort to underhanded tactics like targeting defenseless humans.” He smiled meanly. “But you know, I should have expected that. When I summoned you I thought you would be a God but it turns out you’re just a giant pussy—“

Herobrine laughed as the Wither opened its mouths and screamed, sending three flaming wither skeleton skulls directly at him at point blank range. The Nether faded away as the dream collapsed, the gray fog rushing back to smother him.

He awoke calmly, despite the ending of his dream encounter. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, grimacing as his side pulsed angrily at him. 

It was dark wherever he was, the clear sky above glittering with a thousand stars. The clouds had cleared, and the night was quiet, broken only by the crackling of a fire.

He closed his eyes again and took stock of himself. There was a dulled throbbing in his gut, his entire midsection feeling like one giant bruise. It ached faintly when he breathed but otherwise he was okay. Or he would be. Eventually. Though his pride might take a little longer to recover.

Opening his eyes again, he twitched and instantly regretted it, hissing as his wound flared to life, a steady burn across his stomach and back. He relaxed and focused on breathing shallowly, wondering what he was going to do now.

After laying awake for a few moments, basking in the heat from the fire, he realized he felt warmer than just the fire should provide and looked down. He was tucked into the bedroll haphazardly, the edge resting across his chest. He wondered for an amused moment how they’d managed to pull that off.

“Are you awake?” Came a gentle voice to his left and he turned his head. Alex was sitting propped up against a tree, her arms wrapped around the knee she had drawn to her chest. Her other leg was stretched out before her, a tight bandage around her calf.

“Yes,” he answered, grimacing at his voice. Even more gravelly than usual, and not in a good way. He felt like he’d never known a drink before, and his mouth tasted awful, like metal and decay.

Alex must have sensed his thoughts as she tossed over a bottle. It rolled to a stop next to him. Lifting his arm out from the warmth of the bedroll was a chore but he was able to pick it up without too much trouble, though drinking it while laying down would be a challenge.

“Sorry, I would help you out but…” She trailed off and gestured to her leg. “I thought the splash potion I’d used earlier had helped but I must not have gotten quite the effect I wanted. That or it was a gamy potion.”

“It’s okay.” He uncapped the bottle and carefully poured the liquid into his mouth. It was just water, but it felt heavenly going down. He only wished the bottle was larger.

“Where’d you get this?” He inquired, setting the bottle to the side.

She shrugged. “The village. They gave me a bunch of water bottles.”

Herobrine hummed in acknowledgement but otherwise remained quiet. 

“How do you feel?” Alex asked after a beat. He sighed, closing his eyes again. He felt conflicted about a variety of things, only one of them relatively good. The Wither and its anger over his separation from it. Alex herself with her strange retelling of events that didn’t support what Herobrine himself had heard. Steve and their unfinished conversation. And the fact that his accelerated healing had not kicked in despite several hours having passed when he’d been unconscious. So he really didn’t know how he was feeling.

“Like shit,” he settled on.

He heard Alex chuckle, but it was lacking mirth. “Not as bad as you could be, then.” There was silence for a moment longer than Herobrine was expecting, so he peaked an eye open and glanced at her. She had her head pillowed in her arms, atop her knee. He couldn’t see her expression but when she’d spoke, he could hear the exhaustion in her voice.

“No, not as bad as I could be,” he agreed, putting his hand on his stomach lightly. “What about you?”

“Leg aches every once in a while, but otherwise I’m fine. Guess I got lucky.” She gave a weak half-shrug.

Herobrine hummed in agreement but otherwise didn’t answer. There was something he should do but he found himself hesitant. He almost didn’t want to acknowledge the body laying on his other side, afraid of what he might see. He had so utterly failed at protecting Steve, he had been incapacitated while Sini had still been here. Anything could have happened. His only comfort was that Alex didn’t seem overly worried about their situation, but his mind still raced with possibilities.

Resigned, Herobrine opened his eyes and turned his head just to get it over with.

Steve’s face, even in sleep, was troubled. There was a furrow to his brow and dried tear tracks along his cheeks. He was on his side facing Herobrine, one hand clutching at the cloak that was thrown over him like a makeshift blanket. There were bruises around his neck.

Rage burned in the back of his mind, prowling around like a caged animal biding its time, but it was overshadowed by the sight of his failure and the fear of what could have happened. Seeing those bruises felt like being stabbed all over again.

He had never fought an adversary of equal footing to him. He’d been operating under the assumption that Adelaide and the others she had mentioned during their first meeting were somehow lesser than himself, but that was far from the truth. These people were his equals, just as powerful and capable as he himself. But he had underestimated them and that had cost not only him, but Steve as well. It made him feel worthless. He had finally cut ties completely with the Wither, just in time to get laid low by their adversary. He would never be able to get the image of Steve struggling to get out of Sini’s grasp as he slowly suffocated to death out of his mind. The red hot rage that had ignited in him at seeing Steve in danger had ultimately been his downfall. He hadn’t thought, hadn’t planned, he’d just done the predictable thing and Sini had read him like a book.

Shame quickly blanketed his emotions and he closed his eyes, grimacing as he turned himself onto his side, facing Steve. The action sent waves of pain through his side, and he was breathing heavily once settled, but the pain slowly ebbed away when he stopped moving. He forced himself to open his eyes and stare at Steve—to face his failure and the guilt he felt.

He didn’t remember a lot of what happened after he’d been stabbed, just disbelief and the world slowly getting darker, but he did remember seeing Steve’s distraught face above him, and he’d never forget the words Steve had said.

Y-You’ll be o-o-okay. Please, j-just…hang on. I—I-I can’t do this w-without you.

Taking a carefully deep breath and letting it out slowly, he reached forward to untangle Steve’s fingers from the cloak and lace their fingers together instead.

Out of all the things that hurt right now, his heart took first place. His pride was a close second, but nothing was worse than seeing the aftermath of his screw up. Steve had been hurt, had been crying, because of him. It was the last thing he wanted.

The longer he stared at Steve’s face, the stronger his resolve to never let something like this happen again became. Steve should be only happy. Herobrine knew he had a hard enough life growing up, he wanted to see that smile that never failed to steal his breath away. And he wanted to be the reason for that smile.

He leaned forward a bit until their foreheads touched and just let himself feel for a moment. He closed his eyes and listened to Steve’s steady heartbeat, reminding him that they were okay. Which was good because he had not quite gotten to finish what he truly wanted to say, what he could safely admit to himself. That he…liked Steve. That he wanted to stay with Steve and would never even think about leaving. That Steve had unknowing saved him and given him back some humanity—the very thing that had pushed him to abandon his own kind in the first place. Life could be okay if he spent it with the right person. A lesson he might have learned late but better late than never. And he was pretty sure he’d found that person.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Steve and turned over onto his back again, wincing the entire time. By the time he settled he was winded just from that and felt more pathetic than ever.

Pressing a hand lightly over the wound on his front, he frowned. Considering he’d been hurt when it was light out and it was night now, he would have expected his body to have healed. But the wound was tender and fresh still, as if it had happened seconds ago as opposed to hours. He felt as though he had no healing ability at all.

He brought a hand to his mouth and bit it hard enough to bleed. He pulled it away and watched in dismay as the bite mark slowly closed itself. So it wasn’t his healing, it was the wound. Either Sini had done something when he hadn’t noticed or there was something about the sword itself that was causing this problem. Was there a new enchantment that could be the culprit? Or maybe the blade had been covered in something? Either way, it fucking sucked. He didn’t have time to heal the human way. Sini might not have cared to take Steve but the others with him surely did. What if Sini told them where they were or lead them here? How was Herobrine supposed to protect Steve if he was recovering from a stab wound?

Sighing, he dropped his fully healed hand and looked over at Alex again. She still had her arms wrapped around her knee and was staring at the fire.

“Do you know what happened?” He asked. Alex didn’t answer or even appear as if she’d heard him.

“Alex?” He didn’t want to speak up and wake Steve, so he took the empty bottle and tossed it over to her. It rolled to a stop along her outstretched thigh and she blinked at it, shaken from her thoughts. She looked up.

“Huh?”

“Do you know what happened?” He repeated. She shook her head.

“No. When I found Steve, you were already unconscious and Sini was gone. I asked him but he could barely get any words out so I dropped it. I didn’t want him to have to think about it anymore than he already was, you know? He wasn’t handling it well.”

His heart ached when he thought about Steve having to deal with this alone. He’d have to ask Steve himself then. Why had Sini left Steve when that had been the perfect opportunity to take him? He thought that their whole goal was to take people with purple eyes. But Sini hadn’t and it was already pissing Herobrine off not to know why. Had that asshole really just shown up for a fight? And then resorted to using Steve against him when it became clear Herobrine was going to win?

“I see,” he said, and turned his head to look at Steve again. Alongside needing to finish their conversation and Herobrine needing to ask about what happened after he was stabbed, there was now a third thing he and Steve needed to discuss.

Why had Alex lied?

Herobrine was sure of what he’d heard. An explosion and then silence. No people in distress, calling out for loved ones. No buildings collapsing or burning. Nothing to indicate any of the buildings had even been damaged. It didn’t make any sense. As annoying as she could be, Alex was Steve’s friend. Herobrine could see how much her presence affected Steve. He thought it was a good thing that there was another human Steve could connect with. Which was why Herobrine was hesitant to blame her without trying to figure out the other possibilities first—which he was willing to do—but…plain and simple she’d lied. And if it turned out that she was on the side of people who wanted to potentially hurt Steve? People who wanted to take Steve away from him? Herobrine took a deep, controlled breath. He had to remind himself that he had no proof lest he take his anger out on her unjustly. He wouldn’t be able to promise not to hurt or even kill her, if Steve asked that of him. He didn’t like her that much.

But until he had solid proof and Steve’s understanding, he would behave.

For now.

“Fuck…off!” Blake snarled, pushing the piglin brute away. It stumbled back and didn’t have time to recover before Blake punched its head with enough force it exploded. He made a face as more piglin blood and guts splattered on him.

“Fucking disgusting animals,” he commented to himself, moving deeper into the bastion remnant. The piglins at this point were realizing that confronting him was a death sentence, though the brutes still tried. Well let them come. Blake was angry and he relished the chance to blow off some steam.

After the Wither had left, and Blake had set out to find a portal or a way to light one, he’d realized that he…wasn’t in very good shape. Well, scratch that, he was currently feeling abso-fucking-lutely amazing, but some shit had definitely gone down during the time of his massive memory gap. He remembered being in the plains with Steve, a lot of pain, then waking up in the Nether before a Wither and…changed.

His clothes were in tatters, ripped and bloodied and hardly considered ‘clothes’ anymore. He’d yanked the shirt the rest of the way off and was currently wearing just pants ripped up to the knee. He kinda didn’t want to know what had happened to his left leg. The edge of the cloth was singed pretty badly.

There were scars of injuries he didn’t remember getting covering a lot of his body, and his previously light skin was now an ashy gray color. Not necessarily sickly looking, at least he thought not, but it was hard to tell in the dim, red light of the Nether.

And in the darkness of some of the hallways in the bastion, there was a faint, purple tinted light coming from his face. That part confused him, as he’d previously believed the Wither had granted him some of its power, just like the others had achieved back in the Overworld and just like he’d always wanted, but now he wasn’t so sure. But it wasn’t like there were any mirrors in the Nether for him to see his reflection and try to figure out what the fuck was going on.

The elation and anger he was feeling warred steadily as he made his way through the bastion. He ignored the piglins until they bothered him, and even opening a chest was no longer enough to make them want to fight him. Good. Pathetic beasts weren’t as dumb as they looked.

One of the chests finally had what he was looking for—an old flint and steel. Triumphant, he grabbed it and made his way out, glad to be able to leave this hellhole.

With his key to freedom in hand, he returned to the portal he’d woken at. 

The sound of the portal lighting was like music to his ears. He tossed the flint and steel aside and stepped through without hesitation.

It was night when he appeared, the air cool and crisp. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Something about being in the Overworld felt amazing. In the Nether there had been an oppressive air to the entire dimension, but here…he felt invincible.

But he shook those thoughts away, taking in his surroundings. His familiar surroundings. So that was where Steve’s portal lead to. Interesting. He walked up to the dark house, peering through a window, but it was clear no one was home. 

Stepping away, he patted his side, where the scroll was tucked into the waistband of his tattered jeans. He was tempted to ignore the Wither completely, but after what it’d done to him, he felt hesitant to follow through with that idea. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to go home.

Curiously enough, Graven—their base of operations and what he called ‘home’—was in the same direction he felt compelled to go, as if there was a tug at his core.

And he was pretty sure he knew exactly where—and to who—it lead.

Steve woke suddenly feeling vaguely sick, like his anxiety was trying to crawl up and out his throat. He didn’t remember what his dream was about, just the feeling of being watched and unable to see from where. Of being chased and knowing he wasn’t going to get away.

It was still a little dark out, but in an early morning kind of way. He could hear the fire occasionally popping softly as it dwindled down to nothing.

Directly in front of him, Herobrine was laying on his back with his eyes closed, a hand resting on his stomach. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully, which Steve was thankful for. He didn’t think he could stand it to see Herobrine’s sleep disturbed by his injury. The injury itself was enough for Steve to feel a crushing guilt over.

He sighed softly and stretched, turning onto his back and staring up at the slowly lightening sky. He would guess it was five or six in the morning—either way, much too early to be awake. He closed his eyes, but the contents of his forgotten dream sent his stomach rolling again and he grimaced, opening bleary eyes to again stare up at the sky in resignation. Sleep would just have to wait, he supposed.

After several quiet moments he felt like someone was watching him and looked over, startling when he saw Herobrine staring at him. But the relief at seeing Herobrine awake vastly overpowered the shock.

However, as they stared at each other, Steve couldn’t think of what to say. It all tumbled around his head, vying to be voiced first. Are you okay? How are you? Do you feel any better? Why isn’t your wound healing? I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re awake.

“Hey.”

Steve blinked, focusing on Herobrine. The man was frowning at him.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Thinking so hard.”

Steve opened his mouth.

“And don’t apologize either.”

His breath left him in a quiet laugh, amused despite the uncertainty and guilt he couldn’t help but feel. “Am I that obvious?” He asked softly. Herobrine’s expression said everything it needed to.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

Fuck.

The small smile that had been creeping onto his face instantly dropped as his breathing hitched. The guilt was festering inside him, appeased at times but never gone. The prospect of talking about it sent his heart racing painfully. He felt like he was still being choked, left alone to suffocate under his own shortcomings. If he wasn’t so…godsdammed helpless—

“Hey,” Herobrine said again, starting to turn onto his side. The pain leaking through his expression made Steve panic. He jolted half up, reaching to stop Herobrine from moving.

“Wait, don’t—!”

“It’s okay,” Herobrine interrupted. Once he was fully on his side his face smoothed out. Steve couldn’t help but flick his eyes to where he knew the wound was. He couldn’t see it through the many bandages but the bleeding cut was seared into his brain. “See?”

“It…It’s not okay,” he said weakly, laying back down, on his side this time. “You were—” His throat closed up, refusing to say the words, and he struggled to push past it. “Because I—“

“Because I fucked up,” Herobrine said, with enough conviction that it snapped Steve’s mouth shut. Herobrine’s face became visibly unhappy at his reaction, and he sounded frustrated when he spoke again. “I didn’t have to do what I did. I could have tried anything else but I didn’t, and that’s my fault. Not yours. Steve, I just—” Herobrine cut himself off, sighing. He brought a hand up and gently brushed his fingers over the bruises around Steve’s neck. “I told you. I saw you hurt and I…I panicked. I didn’t think, I just wanted that douchebag away from you. But I should have known that someone like him would have recognized my intentions.” Herobrine dropped his gaze, fiddling with a loose string on the bedroll as if expecting a scolding. Like Steve would ever. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

Steve wanted to refute, but deep down he knew Herobrine’s words were true. He knew it wasn’t his fault but his heart was dead set on telling him otherwise. But he didn’t blame Herobrine.

He settled on a compromise. “If I can’t apologize, then neither can you.”

Herobrine looked back up, clearly not having expected that response from him. “But—“

“Nope. No apologies.”

Herobrine studied his face before relenting with a wry smile. “What are we supposed to do then?”

“I say we blame Sini and Adelaide and…and Blake. Their entire group. It’s all their faults.” Whatever fucked up situation they got into, they could just blame their mysterious adversaries. Hell, if one of them stubbed a toe he’d blame it on them.

“That’s a sentiment I can get behind,” Herobrine agreed, his smile turning softer and more genuine.

Steve couldn’t help but blush under such a look. He bit his lip.

“Is Alex asleep?”

“Yes. I told her I would keep watch. It’s been a couple hours now.”

Steve swallowed nervously. He had been so eager to continue their interrupted conversation but now that he and Herobrine were effectively alone, he found himself hesitant. He didn’t have any experience with this kind of thing. What if he was reading the situation wrong? What if he was misinterpreting what Herobrine had been saying because of his own feelings? He was scared to find out. He didn’t want to be alone anymore, he didn’t want to hurt, but he was terrified of making the leap because there was still a chance it could all fall apart.

“About…about earlier…” He started, and continued when Herobrine didn’t say anything, letting him get it out. “Did you mean it?”

“Yes,” Herobrine answered without hesitation. “I wouldn’t joke around like that.”

And his face reflected that. He looked genuine and sounded genuine but still, Steve found it difficult to accept—to believe that it could be real. Because it was something he had convinced himself he didn’t need but desperately craved, deep down.

“I…I’m not—“ He thought about the word he wanted to use, “—experienced, with this kind of thing. I’ve never had someone I trust as much as I trust you.” Even just admitting that had him blushing hard. He wasn’t used to bearing these kinds of emotions so openly. He used to think it would hurt less, if he kept himself closed off from people, but it didn’t help. Every time he was found out, chased away, attacked, it hurt just as bad as the first time, when he was newly orphaned and had wandered to the next closest village in a daze, dirty and devastated and half-suffocated from the smoke. He had seen others from his village taking refuge there but they’d done nothing to help him, to vouch for him when the guards prevented his entrance into the village. He hadn’t known, back then, why they’d done that. He was just a lost kid hoping for help. But the others had been accepted so easily and he…hadn’t. Would never be, after that.

Until Herobrine.

Herobrine knew about his eyes, what they meant, had been the one to tell him, even. But he’d allowed Steve to come to the Nether, to skate the edges of his fortress. Then he’d helped Steve, even though he’d given the impression it bothered him. But he’d done it. He’d talked to Steve and helped him recover from injuries and he’d been so angry when he’d learned about what Blake had done. It had been eye-opening—so this is what it’s like to have someone care.

“I don’t know if what I feel is…” He struggled to get his thoughts out in a way Herobrine could understand. He didn’t want Herobrine to think he wasn’t interested because he was, but he had a wall of crippling self-doubt that he had to overcome first and from his perspective, it was a daunting task. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t…because I do, I just…” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and curling in on himself a bit. “I can’t hurt like this anymore. I can’t let my guard down just to get stabbed in the back. I want to feel like I’m wanted but I’m so…scared…” He felt the sudden tell-tale burn in his eyes and nose and fought vehemently against himself not to cry. He was a grown man, he should have gotten over this years ago. Shame curled up next to the guilt and anxiety; he felt vaguely sick.

Herobrine was silent for longer than Steve thought was good, though he refused to look up and see his expression, afraid of what it might be. Until he felt a light touch on his arm. He glanced up nervously.

Herobrine was staring at him intently, his brows furrowed. The empty white eyes were hard to keep contact with, but he fought against his naturally reaction to look away.

“Do you want me to show you?” Herobrine asked softly, moving his hand from Steve’s arm to his cheek. Steve felt his heart skip a beat.

“Show me?” He breathed, not daring to move.

“What I mean when I say I care about you,” Herobrine clarified. His thumb rubbed just under Steve’s eye, caressing the delicate skin. Steve brought his hand up and wrapped it loosely around Herobrine’s wrist, grounding himself. If this was a dream, let him wake now to save himself the heartache or let him never wake again.

Herobrine leaned forward. “Is this okay?” He whispered. There was hardly any space between them now, and no mistaking Herobrine’s intention. This was the moment Steve had to choose whether to take the leap of faith or keep his heart to himself. But he ultimately knew that he wanted to try. He just had to trust that Herobrine would catch him.

“Yes—“ He barely got the word out before Herobrine closed the distance and kissed him. It was chaste but Steve tightened his grip on Herobrine’s wrist and tried to convey everything he couldn’t bring himself to say into it. How happy he was, despite his fears. How lucky he felt, to have met Herobrine. And how safe he felt, knowing Herobrine was there to watch his back.

By the time Herobrine pulled away, Steve had nearly forgotten how to breathe and was feeling a little lightheaded. But in a good way because this was really happening and he could hardly believe it. He was still half-convinced he was dreaming.

He opened his eyes having not realized he’d closed them and smiled. He felt…light. Lighter than he had in a long time.

“I hope that clears things up,” Herobrine said, and Steve was so giddy he didn’t know what to do with himself as he stifled a laugh of amazed delight.

“Perfectly,” he chuckled.

Herobrine’s smile was small and somewhat mischievous, in Steve’s opinion. “Good. Because there’s definitely going to be more of that.”

“Oh?” Despite having literally just kissed, he blushed. Kissing was one thing but anything else…well, he wasn’t clueless about it, but his lack of experience was obvious.

“Mhm. You’re lucky I’m injured and that we technically have company or that would not have been PG.”

He exaggerated a gasp, pretending to be scandalized. “How indecent. What kind of man do you take me for?”

“Better get used to it. I can’t promise to keep my hands to myself.” Herobrine shrugged and as if to prove his point, his hand found Steve’s and he laced their fingers together. Steve stared at it in wonder.

“You know what? I change my mind. I think I might need another example. Just to be sure,” he said innocently, and Herobrine clearly saw right through him but leaned forward with a smile and kissed him again anyway.

The rest of the morning was spent just enjoying each other’s company and newfound connection. Steve’s mind was racing with possibilities and anytime he thought of ways everything could come crashing down around him, Herobrine would squeeze his hand, as if he had a sixth sense about that kinda thing. Steve appreciated it, but there were still those dark thoughts in the back of his mind, reminding him that he wasn’t supposed to have nice things and why would Herobrine ever be interested in him? But then he would look over and Herobrine would never fail to understand what he needed. A grounding hand squeeze, a reassuring smile, and eventually a shoulder to lean on when he tugged Steve closer despite Steve’s half-assed protest.

Herobrine offered to let Steve use the bedroll or share it like he’d wanted to the previous night, but Steve didn’t want to hurt him unnecessarily by his own clumsiness. He was content resting his head on Herobrine’s shoulder and silently marveling at the feel of a warm arm resting across his back.

Once the sun rose over the horizon, Steve expected Alex to wake up. She was the kind of person to wake with the sun and hate wasting daylight. But when he didn’t hear any indication that she was waking, he reluctantly lifted himself to a sit and looked over at her. Herobrine too turned his head.

“I’m surprised she’s not awake,” Steve commented quietly.

“She went to sleep late, that might be why.”

Steve hummed in agreement, frowning as he gazed at her sleeping face. As he looked at her, a feeling of dread started creeping up his back.

“So, did you think her story was weird?” He asked, looking down. Herobrine snorted and gave him a look like it was obvious.

“I think her story was bullshit.”

“So she lied,” Steve confirmed, swallowing his disappointment. “Why would she do that?” He whispered. The thought that she wasn’t who she said she was felt like his heart was being crushed. He didn’t want to believe it anymore than the first time the possibility had occurred to him but she wasn’t giving him many options here. Just the fact that he’d already doubted her once and was doing it again was a bad sign.

“I don’t know. But I know how much she means to you. That’s why I haven’t done anything yet.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, hoping he was overthinking things, but Herobrine’s serious expression made that vague sickness from earlier churn his stomach. “You don’t mean…”

“Steve,” Herobrine said, putting a hand over his. “I won’t let her hurt you. I’ll do anything to prevent that. Do you understand?”

He was at a loss for words. Why would Alex do it? There must be a reason, there had to be. She helped them, she laughed with them, she…she…

“Hey, come here, relax,” Herobrine urged, pulling him down and drawing him close. Steve realized he was breathing quickly and made an effort to stop, to take deep breaths. He pressed his face into Herobrine’s shoulder and gripped onto him tightly, trying to match his breathing and stop the impending freak out. This is what he’d been afraid of—now that he’d discovered one good thing in his life, the universe saw fit to rip something else away. Was he not supposed to be happy? What did he do to deserve this torment?

“I won’t do anything without solid proof,” Herobrine promised, whispering the words into his hair. He felt Herobrine’s arms tighten around him, offering support which he desperately needed. Couldn’t the universe give him a break for once?

“That sounds…reasonable,” he managed to get out. Not thinking about it was a bad thing to do, but not thinking about it also sounded pretty damn good right about now. He wished he could just push all his problems away and lock all the negative emotions in a box and throw away the key.

“Okay. Now scoot over so I can get up.”

“What? Why? No.” Despite his protests, Herobrine pushed him away and struggled to an upright position, grimacing in pain the whole way. When he was sitting, he hunched in on himself a little, panting and pressing a hand over his side.

“Fuck, this hurts like a bitch,” he hissed. Steve shifted onto his knees and fretted next to him, unsure of what to do to help.

“Didn’t—“ Herobrine paused to control his breathing, taking slow, deep breaths until the pain faded from his face. “Didn’t you have an extra potion?”

Steve slumped back onto his heels, offering Herobrine an apologetic smile. “We already used it on you, but nothing happened.”

“Shit, really?” Herobrine cursed, poking lightly at the wound with a grimace. Steve reached forward and yanked his hand away on instinct.

“Don’t do that,” he chided. “Don’t make it worse.”

Herobrine looked like he was ready to say something snippy about Steve’s reaction but once he saw Steve’s expression, he sighed.

“I was about to comment how I’m fine but I did just get stabbed earlier so I’ll concede this time.”

Steve, still holding Herobrine’s hand, squeezed it and felt an invisible weight lift off his shoulders. He would have expected Herobrine to brush off his concerns. He seemed like the kind of man to hide his problems until they became impossible to ignore. Steve was grateful Herobrone recognized how affected he was by what happened. But he also knew that Herobrine didn’t like being coddled and asked if he was fine every five minutes, which Steve could be guilty of doing.

“I don’t mean to be…overbearing or anything—“ He started.

“No no, it’s fine.” Herobrine held up his other hand to interject. “I get that we’re both new to this, so I can make an effort not to be so defensive about being vulnerable. Though it might take a while.” He smiled and winked.

“That’s…actually pretty mature of you, are you sure you’re okay?” Steve said cheekily and Herobrine pouted, pulling his hand away while Steve laughed and scooted closer. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” Herobrine said and Steve’s heart skipped another beat.

“Yeah I guess I am, huh?” He agreed, looking down as he thought about what Herobrine had said. He only worried so much because he didn’t want anything to happen. The best thing in his life was happening right now and he was terrified of losing it. What if Sini had aimed higher? What if Sini had crushed his throat? What if, what if, what if—

Fingers curled under his chin and tilted his head up. He looked nervously at Herobrine’s serious expression.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop. You’re stressing yourself out.”

If only it was that easy.

“How do you always know that?” He asked, not intentionally changing the subject but it wouldn’t be so bad if they could just skip this conversation.

“Did you already forget that I can hear when your heart rate increases?”

Steve opened his mouth but he had nothing to say to that. He had indeed forgotten that little fact.

Herobrine chuckled and dropped his hand after giving Steve a light pat on the cheek.

“I’ll be okay. We’ll just avoid any and all villages from now on.”

Steve smiled in amusement and finally stood up, wincing at the ache in his knees. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll work.”

“Let a man dream.”

Steve chuckled, unable to help himself. He was glad Herobrine could joke around, it made him feel better about the injury. He wanted to believe that Herobrine wouldn’t purposely keep his real feelings a secret anymore, considering that they had literally just kissed, and having Herobrine be in a good mood despite having been stabbed through the gut made Steve feel like things were eventually going to be okay. And while he didn’t think they could avoid villages forever, moving away from the one they were attacked near seemed like a good first move.

“I think we should at least move on from here,” Steve said, walking quietly over to Alex. “Though it’ll be very slow going.”

He knelt down and put his hand on her shoulder, shaking gently. Groggy, she blinked open her eyes and tried to shoo his hand away.

“What, what do you want?” She slurred out, still half asleep. Steve was hit with a sudden bout of heartache, watching Alex lazily stretch out in her own bedroll. Please, he prayed, please let us be wrong about her.

“It’s already past sunrise,” Steve told her, shaking her shoulder again. She groaned in dismay and flopped onto her back, glaring without any heat at him.

“Ugh, is it? Alright, gimme a sec.” He remained kneeling as she struggled to a sitting position, glaring at the bedroll where her legs were. “My leg hurts like a bitch.”

“Hey, join the club,” Herobrine commented. Steve glanced over and saw him standing now, the bedroll pooled around his feet.

“Yeah? How’re you doing?” She asked, huffing as she crawled carefully out of the bedroll and yawned.

“Still not as bad as I could be.”

“Heh. Same.”

Once her injured leg was out of the bedroll and resting on the cloth, Steve inspected it briefly. The splash potion she’d used had healed the wound enough that Steve didn’t feel the need to worry about it, but it obviously still bothered her if her little winces and curses were any indication.

“Do you think you’d be able to walk?” Steve asked. He wished they’d known that the potion wasn’t going to work on Herobrine when they’d used it, then she could have drunk it and been better off, but they were stuck working with what they got. And it wasn’t looking promising. But he wasn’t asking them to hike up a mountain, he just thought they should recover somewhere farther away from the village they’d been attacked near. Harder to track them, that way. Hopefully.

Alex moved her foot and leg and grimaced the whole time, but she nodded at him. “I could probably hobble somewhere else, granted it wasn’t too far.”

“That’s fine. I just think we should get away from the village, you know? In case—in case they come back.”

Alex looked up and Steve struggled to keep eye contact, feeling guilty about them potentially blaming her for no reason and nervous about potentially having figured out that she actually wasn’t on their side.

Whatever she saw made her somber up a bit. “Good idea. Maybe we can find a stream or lake nearby while we’re at it.”

That was actually a good idea. He looked at Herobrine. “Can you hear any running water?”

Herobrine paused for a moment and cocked his head to the side, then nodded. “Yeah, all around.”

“Any that way?” Steve pointed away from the village.

Herobrine only nodded.

“Great.” He turned back to Alex. “Need help?”

She smiled in appreciation. “Maybe a little.”

Their morning affairs took longer than normal, as Steve had to help Alex into her armor, and by the time they were ready to set out, the morning was half gone. Steve offered Herobrine one of his shirts before they started walking, knowing how the weather had been colder than usual and was overall too cold for Herobrine anyway. He still had the cloak but with no shirt, it was bound to be uncomfortable. Herobrine looked at the shirt with a grimace but took it anyway, the reason for his displeasure becoming evident as soon as he squeezed into it. The teal t-shirt was obviously too tight on Herobrine, bulging out at the sleeves and chest, but it was better than nothing, plus the added pressure the shirt applied to the wound would probably benefit Herobrine in the long run. Steve just had to stifle a giggle every time he looked over, which earned him a weak glare from Herobrine. He might not like it, but Steve was definitely taking the opportunity to appreciate the way the shirt accented Herobrine’s muscles.

They were able to walk for a solid thirty minutes, leaving the flower forest and entering the birch forest, before Alex stopped suddenly and smiled apologetically when Steve turned to her.

“I might need some help the rest of the way. I think if I take another step on my leg it’ll give out on me.”

“Oh, here I got you,” Steve said automatically, coming to stand on her bad side. He wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her arm over his shoulder. She slumped into him and sighed in relief.

“Are we close to the water?” Steve asked, glancing to his left at Herobrine, who nodded. Like Alex, he seemed to be struggling a bit, but given his superhuman abilities, he could probably go for a lot long before needing any help. But Steve still worried.

“Not much farther.”

The mantra of not much farther ran through his head, over and over until he could finally hear the sound of gently trickling water himself. Then, through a thick set of trees, they came across a small lake with a river on both sides, one stream leading in, one stream leading out. It was a small lake but deep enough to swim in if they felt inclined, and it was fresh water, which was the important part.

“Finally,” Alex gasped, as Steve carefully lowered her to the ground so she could sit and take pressure off her leg. He made sure she was okay before standing and moving over to Herobrine.

“Are you doing okay?” He asked, eyeing Herobrine’s side. There was no sign of blood through the shirt, but that could easily change. If Herobrine so much as sneezed Steve was sure the wound would open back up again, and they had just been walking for the last hour or so.

“As good as I can be.”

He peered into Herobrine’s face, looking for any signs he might be fudging the truth a bit, but he just blinked and smiled.

“Did I pass?” Herobrine said with a chuckle as Steve pulled back.

“This time.”

They settled on the grass. As the least injured, Steve went around and collected some wood, preparing for the night. He piled it in front of where Alex and Herobrine were resting, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. The sun was directly above them at this point and the clouds from the day before had cleared, allowing the full heat and light of the sun to shine down. It was perfect for someone like Herobrine, who preferred hotter temperatures and was currently doing a great imitation of a lizard basking in the sun but not so great for people like Steve who were wearing a full set of armor and had just half-carried someone for half an hour.

With a sigh he flopped down on the grass next to Herobrine, spreading his arms out and closing his eyes. Finally he was able to relax, and resting his arms and legs after helping Alex felt amazing, but the sun beating down on him did not. After several steadily more uncomfortable minutes during which he felt like he was being cooked alive, he sighed in annoyance and sat up, beginning to remove his armor. Once he had the entire set off and pushed to the side, he fiddled with the hem of his shirt while staring at the water. He was really hot and the water did look fairly refreshing…

Mind made up, he first collected the empty bottle they had and filled it with water, downing the whole thing before refilling it and offering it to Herobrine. He did the same with Alex. Sure they had extra bottles of water in her pack, but might as well use the one they had out.

Once Alex had her fill, he refilled the bottle for the last time and stuffed it into his pack, then started removing his shirt. When he tugged his head out of the collar, Alex was staring at him in confusion but Herobrine was staring with interest. Despite the white eyes, Steve could tell Herobrine wasn’t looking at his face.  Maybe it was because of what happened that morning, maybe it was because of the fact that Herobrine had already seen him shirtless, but he only blushed a little under their attention.

“I’m going to go swimming,” he announced, removing his shoes, socks, and pants. Clad in just his underwear, he waded into the lake, sighing as the water washed over his skin, working to cool him down. He swam for a bit but eventually settled on just floating along the surface, watching the clouds overhead.

This was nice. He enjoyed the chance to relax without having to worry about watching his back. Getting caught unaware like this could easily be a death sentenced if he was chased into colder biomes. He’d always foregone swimming breaks in fear of just that happening. But with Herobrine around, he could probably prance around naked and still feel safe enough to do so. That thought made him blush. Not that he ever would, but it was the principle of the thing.

Once he started feeling like his skin was going to shrivel up, he swam to the shoreline and reluctantly exited the cool water. But he felt better, as the sweat and stress of the day had been rinsed away.

He returned to Herobrine’s side, noticing Alex seemed to have dozed off in the shade of one of the trees. She was using her rolled up bedroll as a pillow and had removed the upper portion of her armor. They had not bothered applying armor to her injured leg so she looked a little funny wearing just one leg of armor.

“Feel better?” Herobrine asked as Steve laid down in the grass next to him. He would let the sun dry him off, then he’d have to move to the shade. But he did feel a lot better.

“Yeah,” he sighed, tilting his head to look at Herobrine. “I never would have taken the chance to swim if I was by myself. You never know who might be around and discover you practically naked and unarmed.” He picked at the grass. “With my luck I’d be chased to a hills or tundra and left to freeze.” He shuddered at the thought.

“Well your luck’s changed,” Herobrine said, shifting his position so he was leaning over Steve a bit. His expression was serious but his tone was gentle. “I would never let that happen.”

Steve felt his heart swell and he held out his hand, marveling when Herobrine automatically reached out with the hand not supporting him and grabbed his, squeezing.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he agreed just as softly.

Herobrine smiled and then his attention strayed again as his gaze noticeably left Steve’s face. His smile faded the longer the silence stretched on, until he pulled his hand away from Steve’s and touched the scar on Steve’s side, the one he’d gotten from when they escaped the Nether. Herobrine’s warm hand on his skin made him shiver.

Then, Herobrine’s hand trailed to other scars Steve had collected over his life. Scars from close calls with humans and mobs alike, and scars with embarrassing stories behind them. And the scar from whatever Blake had done to him. He shuddered when Herobrine’s fingers brushed over that one.

“Are you…Is it okay if I ask about these?” Herobrine asked tentatively.

Steve appreciated Herobrine asking, even though he hadn’t needed to. The scars were in the past, and Steve wasn’t shy about them. “Sure. They don’t bother me, if you’re worried about that. Ask away.”

“How about this one?” Herobrine started with, tracing a finger over a small, short line on his lower stomach.

“I was stabbed with the tip of an arrow.”

Herobrine raised a brow, and Steve shrugged. “Well I had knocked the arrow out of the bow but the guy was pretty determined to get me.” That had been back when he thought he might still be able to live near a village. Lesson learned.

Herobrine frowned, moving his hand to two ‘v’ shaped scars on Steve’s chest. “And this one?”

Of course he’d have to find one of the embarrassing ones, but the story behind it always made Steve chuckle. “I got kicked by a sheep.”

Herobrine gave him a look and he smiled in return. “I wasn’t really experienced with animals at the time.”

“How old were you?”

“Hm.” Steve rubbed a hand over his chin, thinking back on it. “I think I was around…fourteen?”

Herobrine was silent for a moment, as if internally debating something.

“How long had you been alone?”

Ah.

“Well, my parents died when I was eight, so…math,” he chuckled, playing off the gravity of the conversation. He knew it was fucked up but everything that had happened had lead to this moment so he wasn’t complaining too much.

Herobrine had his brows furrowed and clearly looked unhappy. Steve sighed and sat up. Herobrine leaned back a bit to give him space but Steve pressed forward, pulling him into a hug. It took a moment for Herobrine’s free hand to curl around his back.

“I told you, it doesn’t bother me anymore,” Steve assured. Herobrine’s arm tightened just a little.

“I still feel bad. After all that and you’re still…how can you…”

Steve was surprised this was troubling Herobrine so much, but it showed him that Herobrine cared, which felt better than Steve might have expected it to. It was all still so surreal, that it was okay for him to hug Herobrine in comfort or just because he wanted to, whenever he wanted to. That he could even…

He pulled away enough so they could look at each other and cupped Herobrine’s cheek, smiling warmly at him. “I promise, I’m fine. Yeah, it sucks that I can’t walk into a village without fearing if I’m gonna be attacked, but that doesn’t matter as much as this does. Everything that I’ve experienced has lead me to this exact moment and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

He could tell his words affected Herobrine. He looked almost pained as they stared at each other. Steve kept the smile on his face as he leaned forward and pressed it gently against Herobrine’s mouth. He felt a little shy doing it, but he was mostly still amazed he could do it at all. He could also feel how tense the other was, but as soon as they kissed, he felt Herobrine relax and all but melt into it.

Herobrine pulled away only enough to say against his lips, “Me neither.” Steve all but beamed at him and gave him one more proper kiss before pulling away entirely. As much as he was interested in continuing, he was only in his boxers and didn’t want to embarrass himself by making it obvious he was getting a little too into it. Given his lack of experience that was a very real possibility. Plus, with Herobrine injured, their mobility was kinda limited. But instead of laying back down he remained sitting, placing his hand over Herobrine’s on the ground and curling his fingers around it.

“What about you?” He asked.

“What about me?”

“I’m just curious about your childhood—if you don’t mind me asking, that is,” Steve added on hurriedly, but Herobrine didn’t appear displeased or put off by the question.

“Unfortunately there’s not much to tell,” Herobrine started with a sigh, looking out across the lake. “I remember my mother was dotting and affectionate while my father was distant but warm when he needed to be. I was their only child but I didn’t care to fall into the roles that were expected of men back then. I didn’t care about starting a family and making a living, I had my own interests that my parents could not understand. So I ran away when I was sixteen and never looked back.” He frowned. “I don’t know what became of them.”

“Do you miss them?”

Herobrine took a little longer to think about it. “I miss the idea of having parents but I don’t think I miss mine in particular.”

That was a sad thought, but Steve really wasn’t one to talk. His entire life was a sad thought.

But he enjoyed listening to Herobrine talk about his childhood, as dejecting as it may be. And though he really didn’t want to think about the Wither, he was curious as to what had gotten Herobrine’s interested started in the first place and why and how he’d summoned it. But he didn’t want to ruin the mood so he filed those questions away for later.

However, when Herobrine looked at him after an extended amount of silence, Steve couldn’t help but voice a question he’d been curious about pretty much since meeting the guy. “What color were your eyes?”

Herobrine blinked, taken aback, but answered nonetheless. “They were green. Vibrant and bright kinda like Alex’s. I remember being told they were one of my best features, which is saying something, considering.” He gave the impression he was rolling his eyes.

Steve lifted a hand to turn Herobrine’s face towards him, so he could look fully into his eyes. On the Wither, the white eyes were cold and soulless, otherworldly in a monstrous sort of way, but on Herobrine, the man was emotional enough that his eyes couldn’t hide it. They were warm and expressive, reflecting whatever Herobrine was feeling be it happiness or anger, determination or sadness.

“They still are,” he said honestly, one-hundred percent sincere. Herobrine’s expression of stunned awe did make his smile turn a little more amused, but then Herobrine narrowed his eyes.

“If you don’t want me to exacerbate my injury, you need to stop doing that.”

“Stop doing what?” He asked innocently, causing Herobrine to growl in frustration.

“Stop tempting me.”

“Am I?”

Herobrine shifted and that’s when it happened—his heated expression was overshadowed by pain for a brief moment, but it was enough to get Steve to relent, despite knowing Herobrine probably didn’t mean for him to actually stop.

“No, you’re right,” he agreed with a sigh, leaning away and stifling a laugh at the instant look of comedic regret on Herobrine’s face. “I should probably get dressed anyway.” He chuckled as Herobrine’s mouth dropped open.

“Wait, hold on,” Herobrine back-tracked hurriedly, “It’s just a little pain.” Steve just gave him a look that spoke of his disbelief and Herobrine brought his hands up as if asking ‘what?’ but the movement sent another twinge of pain through him as his face pinched up.

“Dude, you were literally stabbed yesterday.”

“And?”

“Hey, it was your idea to stop,” he pointed out.

Herobrine crossed his arms. “Hmph.”

Steve shook his head with a smile and slipped back into his clothes, moving into the shade while he was at it. Herobrine was busy pouting in the sun and Steve leaned back against a tree with a smile, closing his eyes and letting himself relax again until nightfall.

Things were going to be okay. He felt more sure of that than ever.

Arriving in Graven, Sini was immedaitely accosted by Adelaide.

“Well?” She demanded impatiently. Sini held up his hands, smiling charmingly at her.

“Adelaide dear, not even a hello? You wound me.”

Adelaide scowled, grabbing his arm and tugging them into the alley between two houses. “Do you understand what you did? Juneau gave explicit directions—“

“My my, worried about me for once? This softer side of you is unusual,” Sini interrupted, still smiling. “Have a little more invested in this problem of ours then you’re letting on, hm?”

“We should all be more invested in this,” Adelaide replied. Sini might be the second most insufferable member of their group, right after Blake, but he was still one of them. He’d been granted the Wither’s power and there weren’t many of them in existence. She felt infuriated that Sini had gone against Juneau’s wishes because he was surely going to kill Sini for this infraction, Withered or not.

“Oh please. He was nothing special, as I pointed out. I don’t understand why Juneau is so invested—“

“It’s not your place to understand,” Adelaide hissed, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “It’s your place to do as he says.”

“Says who?” Sini replied indignantly, slapping her hand away.

She gave him a look like he’d gone insane. “Uh, the chaotic God of destruction that gave you your powers?”

Sini stared at her impassively before that damn smile crept back onto his face. It made her want to punch it right off.

“Adelaide my dear, your concern is appreciated but unnecessary. I’ve proven a point and I’m sure Juneau will see it my way.”

She threw her hands up, defeated, as he bid her goodbye and presumably left to talk to Juneau. Well, she tried. It was going to be his funeral. And despite how insufferable he was, she still mourned the loss of one of their kind.

As Sini stepped up to Juneau’s door and knocked, he tried to brush Adelaide’s concerns off as ramblings of a deluded nature. Adelaide had always followed Juneau’s orders to a T but Sini had challenged them time and time again with little more that a slap on the wrist. He was sure this time would be no different, especially once he reported just how pathetically weak and attached to a human, of all things, Herobrine was.

No one is to harm Herobrine.

He scoffed, remembering Juneau’s order. Personally Sini didn’t see the point, and surely Juneau couldn’t honestly expect them to be able to engage Herobrine and his human without some harm coming to him. What, were they supposed to actively avoid Herobrine if he attacked them? After what he’d seen of Herobrine’s behavior concerning that human boy, he wasn’t so sure Juneau’s plan was going to pan out like he thought. Surely Herobrine wasn’t going to just leave the human behind and join their cause. He rolled his eyes just thinking about it. What a presumptuous thought on Juneau’s part. And even if Herobrine did choose to join them, he might not be okay with what would inevitably happen to his human. And his encounter with them had only cemented his opinion that he was right—it was a waste of time trying to recruit someone like Herobrine. Surely, with their own Wither, they didn’t need Herobrine or his Wither.

The door opened and Juneau was on the other side. The older man was not surprised to see him, which in itself was no surprise—their lot were gossips at heart, especially Mirai.

“Sini,” Juneau greeted, stepping aside and holding the door open. “Please, come in. I’m eager to hear what happened.”

He accepted the invitation, a charming smile aimed towards Juneau. “As I am eager to share what I’ve learned.” He moved into the house, his back to Juneau. The simple house was dark as always, the windows long ago boarded up. Though, the tarps thrown over the tables pressed against the far wall and covering the floor were a new and unusual addition.

“You should have listened, because I was right,” he bragged, turning around. Juneau had closed the door and was standing with his arms crossed, face impassive.

“Oh? About your claim that you could take Herobrine in a fight?”

He nodded, pleased that Juneau had remembered. “Yes exactly. He had the upper hand for a moment but his pathetic attachment to that human he’s with hinders him. Not only did he throw away his weapon, he did exactly what I knew he would to save the boy.” Sini chuckled to himself. He hadn’t felt that triumphant in a while.

Juneau didn’t appear to share his enthusiasm, walking slowly into the room until he was in front of the tables on the far wall, facing the blocked windows. He put his hands on the table and sighed heavily. Sini frowned at the hint of disappointment he could sense.

“I’m telling you, we don’t need him. He’s a fool and he’s weak—“

“I gave very clear instructions not to hurt him.”

“How are we supposed to fight him without injuring him!?” Sini snarled. “You expect me to take a beating and not defend myself? What if he kills one of us because of your ridiculous rule!”

“Then he kills one of you,” Juneau replied calmly, turning around. “And you can move on knowing you’ve died for our cause.”

He bared his teeth. “For your cau—!”

Juneau appeared barely an inch from him, his dark expression one that promised punishment. Sini’s mouth worked but no words came out, only a steady stream of blood as he shakily looked down. His body was quickly turning numb as his brain struggled to register what he was looking at—Juneau’s hand disappearing into his chest. The pressure increased painfully in his chest as Juneau’s grip on his insides tightened.

Juneau leaned forward until his mouth was besides Sini’s ear. “I wish it hadn’t come to this my friend, but you’ve defied me for the last time.”

His indignant anger forced the words from his mouth. “Y-You’ll b-be the…the d-death-th of u-us al—all,” he rasped out, more blood spilling from his mouth. His body was shutting down but he vehemently fought it.

However, it was in vain as Juneau ripped his hand out, holding up a still heart. Sini had a moment of horror as he stared at it, his body’s passive regeneration trying its best to heal him, but it couldn’t replace such a vital organ fast enough. He slumped to the ground once Juneau released him, dead.

Juneau stared down impassively, throwing the heart to the side in disgust. Such a waste of potential. It was nasty business, but it had to be done. He would not tolerate insubordination, not about this.

Though, there was one upside to Sini’s actions. If Herobrine was to reject their proposal and go against them—unfathomable, in Juneau’s mind—and if he was as attached to this human as Sini claimed, then they could always fall back on using him—Steve, Juneau knew his name to be—against Herobrine. Underhanded perhaps, but Juneau wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.

Chapter Text

Steve made the executive decision to remain by the lake for the next several days, just until Alex could walk by herself reliably, as Steve wouldn’t be able to keep supporting her and he didn’t want Herobrine to exacerbate his injury. Neither Alex nor Herobrine argued, though Steve would have overruled them. As the least injured, he took it upon himself to help them be as comfortable as possible.

He realized that he would have to be in charge of finding dinner, so just before the sun set, he went out and found some chickens for him and Alex. They had officially run out of foraged food that Herobrine had been able to collect before the start of their adventure, so Steve kept an eye out while he hunted down the chickens. He was able to find some apples but didn’t have luck scrounging up anything else, but it would have to be enough for the first night.

He and Herobrine didn’t try to hide their new relationship from Alex, but they didn’t advertise it either. Maybe it was the sudden heat of the day, maybe it was her injury bothering her more than she let on, but Alex was fairly out of it during dinner and went to sleep earlier than normal despite having spent a majority of the day napping. Steve felt conflicted about worrying about her, but ultimately decided that as long as she remained silent on the matter, he would act as if everything was alright.

And Herobrine was incredibly good at helping him believe that. Despite the injury, he acted as if he was completely fine and like it didn’t bother him at all, which helped put Steve’s mind at ease. Though, as night fell properly and it was getting closer to bedtime, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Truthfully, Steve just didn’t know what was expected of him. He was giving himself anxiety as he laid out the bedroll. Did he ask if Herobrine wanted to join him? They’d already agreed to share the bedroll about something completely different, but it wasn’t cold anymore. It was actually so hot still, despite the sun having set, that Steve didn’t think he’d need to slip into the bedroll at all. Even wearing his light pajamas was pushing his level of comfort.

But it was also the third night, so Herobrine should sleep regardless. So should he ask? Or mention something? 

“Are you going to keep staring at it or are you going to sleep?”

Steve blinked out of his thoughts, looking up. Herobrine was watching him from his place by the fire.

Perhaps it was foolish of him to stress himself out on the unknown, and he should just ask. He smiled, amused at his own actions. It was just like him to finally find someone to spend time with and then feel incredibly awkward regarding anything revolving round acting like a couple. Plus, everything he remembered about couples was from memories of his parents and reading about them in books, so, forgive him if it took a little getting used to.

“Tonight is the night you should sleep, right? Are you—I mean, should we, uhhh…” He trailed off, chickening out. Embarrassment made his face warm as Herobrine chuckled.

“I was planning on just getting a couple hours of sleep in the middle of the night but if you want to sleep together, well, I’d be a fool to pass that offer up.”

“Well, I just…I’m not sure how this all works, I guess,” he admitted, as Herobrine came over to sit across from him on the other side of the bedroll.

“Sleeping together?”

He blushed. “In the most literal sense, yeah. Or anything relating to, you know, being with someone.”

Herobrine hummed. “I see.”

Steve toyed with the edge of the bedroll nervously, wondering why this ultimately unnecessary concept was tripping him up so much. Just because they were together didn’t mean they needed to sleep together. His lack of experience was glaringly obvious and humiliating. He couldn’t even handle the idea of literally sleeping together despite the alternative making his heart hurt for reasons he couldn’t name. What did it matter if they slept together? Herobrine didn’t even need to sleep every night—

Fingers snapped in front of his face and he flinched in surprise, blinking up at Herobrine. “You were doing it again.”

“Sor—S-So I was,” he amended. This ‘no apologizing over something not your fault’ thing was hard but it was his own rule so he tried to stick with it.

Herobrine sighed, sitting back on his heels. “Look, if you don’t want to sleep together we don’t have to.”

“No, I do want to, I just…” He trailed off, annoyed with himself. “I don’t know what I’m doing, honestly.”

Herobrine stared at him in silence before he smiled and shook his head, then carefully laid himself down on part of the bedroll, wincing until he was settled on his back. Then he patted the space next to him. “Come on.”

Steve smiled in gratitude and obeyed, laying down next to Herobrine. His instinct was to keep a sliver of space between them but Herobrine was having none of it as he pulled Steve toward him, until Steve was practically half on top of him. His heart rate doubled as his blush spread further. The strangeness of having a living, breathing body so close was hard for his mind to accept as real. But as Herobrine relaxed and the silence stretched on, Steve was also able to relax into the embrace. He rested his head on Herobrine’s chest and found himself falling asleep to the strong, steady beat of his heart.

When he woke up, he was on his stomach using Herobrine’s arm as a pillow. He blinked sleepily and yawned, then stretched. For once he hadn’t had a dream or a nightmare and he was all the better for it—he felt well-rested. A novel thing to wake up to. Maybe there was something to this ‘sleeping together’ thing.

When he turned around, Herobrine had at some point turned onto his side and was watching him. He smiled when Steve settled.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he responded, giddy with delight as he leaned forward to kiss Herobrine. And Herobrine allowed it. Steve still marveled at that fact.

“Mmmm I think I could get use to this,” he mumbled as he pulled away. Herobrine chuckled.

“Believe me, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Is that a promise?”

Herobrine narrowed his eyes, sending shivers through Steve’s body. “You better believe it is.”

Almost unthinkingly, Steve put his hand lightly on Herobrine’s side. But what he felt made him pause. The area was just the slightest bit warmer than the rest of Herobrine. Not concerningly so, but noticeably. He frowned as he moved his hand gently over the wound.

“How’re you doing?” He asked, unable to help himself.

“Yesterday when I woke up, it hurt like hell. But as the day progressed, and even right now, the strange thing is…the rest of me feels fine. Normal like nothing happened. It’s just the stab wound itself that isn’t healing and hurts if I move the wrong way or breathe too deeply.”

That was a surprising development. “Is that…good?”

Herobrine pursed his lips. “It’s not as bad as it could be.”

He smiled. “That seems to be the trend with us.”

“You can say that again.”

He let the silence settle around them, listening to the morning birds sing and the gentle crackle of the fire. He absentmindedly ran his fingers up and down Herobrine’s side, staring vacantly at the sky over his shoulder. A brief touch along his neck made him blink and look at Herobrine.

Silently, Herobrine titled his head up and pressed lightly against the bruises around his throat. He’d looked at them in the water’s reflection and they didn’t look good. They were dark and angry, a conglomeration of marks along the front and sides of his neck. Luckily they didn’t hurt all the time, only when pressure was applied to them.

Steve watched as Herobrine’s brows furrowed the longer he stared at them. Steve titled his head back down and reached up to capture Herobrine’s hand in his, lowering it away from his neck.

“I already know what you want to say, and you already know what I’m going to say in response,” he said quietly. Herobrine frowned.

“I just hate seeing them.”

Steve smiled. “I would say just don’t look at them, but that would mean not looking at me and even I don’t want that.”

Herobrine remained serious for a few moments before his face broke into a smile and he chuckled. He turned his hand over in Steve’s grip and used it to bring Steve’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. He smirked at the blush spreading across Steve’s cheeks.

“A terrible thought indeed.”

“When did you become such a charmer?” Steve asked teasingly, trying to ignore the effect such a simple action had on him. “Where was this part of you when we first met?”

“Nothing against you, but I don’t make it a habit of trying to woo humans.” Herobrine paused. “At least, not anymore. Obviously when I was human I was a pro at it, but after what happened, well, rage and hatred are kinda a mood killer.”

Steve raised a brow. “A pro huh? Bold claim to make.”

“It’s neither bold nor a claim,” Herobrine said, looking so infuriatingly sure of himself that Steve didn’t know if he wanted to smack or kiss the expression off his face. Herobrine curled the arm Steve was laying on, so that he pulled Steve closer. “It’s a fact,” he said lowly.

“Oh? Well, I would love to see proof of that,” he whispered, leaning closer until there was barely any space between their lips. “Once your side heals of course.”

Herobrine groaned and rolled away from him. Steve laughed.

“Why did you have to ruin it?” Herobrine complained, glaring at him without any heat to it. Steve shrugged, scooting closer to fold his arms on Herobrine’s chest and rest his chin on them. He beamed at Herobrine.

“Just part of my charm,” Steve said, wagging his brows. Herobrine made a sour face at him.

“Oh don’t be like that,” Steve said. “There’s nothing wrong with being safer rather than sorry.”

Herobrine grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘overly safe’ but it was too quiet for Steve to fully make out.

“What was that?” He asked lightly, raising his brows.

“Nothing.”

“Mm, yeah I’m so sure,” Steve relented with a smile, pushing himself up. He stretched and scooted over so Herobrine could sit up. His pouty face was so adorable that Steve couldn’t help but lean over and give him a kiss. By the time they parted, Herobrine didn’t look nearly as put off.

A throat cleared very obviously and they both looked over. Alex was leaned back against a tree, hands behind her head and one leg crossed over the other.

“Well, aren’t you boys cute together.”

So much for trying to cheer Herobrine up. He scowled as Steve blushed at getting caught so obviously. Honestly he’d kinda forgotten she was there.

“Just try to keep it in your pants, alright? Don’t need any free shows.”

He blushed harder. She was so crass, it was actually kinda impressive her near total lack of a filter.

“Trust me, that won’t be a problem,” Herobrine sneered. “And I would say the same to you but—oh, wait.”

He smirked as she scowled, sitting upright. “Hey, watch it bud! For all you know I could have two partners, so, in your face.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Oh yeah? Let me guess, your left and right hands?”

She gave an indignant cry as Steve laughed and he and Herobrine high-fived. She crossed her arms and pouted.

“Man, whatever. I don’t have to prove anything to you guys.”

“Yeah sure. I know you’re dying to,” Herobrine said, seeing right through her. Alex only held out for a few seconds before she responded.

“I mean, obviously I have a girlfriend. Please, just look at me.” She gestured to her body.

Herobrine nodded, a look of doubt on his face. Steve knew he was just messing with her but it was still funny.

“Yeah, see, I’m looking but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking at.” He snickered as she glared at him.

“Alright funny guy, I see how it is. I was going to go easy on you guys but oooooh boy, now you’re gonna get double the teasing.”

“Thanks but I only need one tease in my life, so…”

Herobrine smiled at him and he put his red-hot face in his hands. “Oh Gods, I can’t believe you said that,” came his muffled response. Herobrine laughed and Steve felt him shift, an arm wrapping around his shoulders to draw him into a side hug.

They spent the rest of the day relaxing and recovering. Alex tried walking around more and more. Herobrine remained sitting and not moving, per Steve’s orders. Considering Herobrine’s injury had to heal the normal way and was in such an awkward area, Steve worried that any little movement might strain the wound too much and interfere with the healing process. Herobrine didn’t seem as concerned and could get up, walk around, and sit back down without appearing to be in too much pain, but Steve still didn’t like the idea of rushing anything. They were recovering, there was no reason to push themselves.

The next several days passed without serious incident, though not for lack of trying. Alex nearly drowned when her leg cramped up while swimming. She’d laughed it off while she and Steve sat soaking and panting on the shore after he’d dove in to rescue her. Steve didn’t find it as funny but he could see the humor of the situation—a large chunk of wood to the leg and potential infection hadn’t stopped her, but a little bit of cramping and some water might have.

And a tree broke and would have crushed or seriously injured Herobrine if he didn’t have super strength. He’d merely held his hand out and stopped the descent of the tree in its tracks, looking almost bored as he did so. Steve still fussed over him, but his wound hadn’t reopened so Steve left him alone after making sure.

But it didn’t bode well in Steve’s mind. First Alex, then Herobrine. Was it going to be his turn next? He felt paranoid, afraid that something was going to happen to him. Sure they were just coincidences, but Steve knew he had terrible luck. He was convinced the universe was doing it on purpose.

On the fourth day by the lake, it was decided that they would begin traveling again the next day. Alex could walk around without assistance, and Herobrine was fine to walk as long as he took careful steps. As much as Steve was enjoying the time they were spending relaxing, the longer they stayed in one place, the higher their chances of being found became. Steve very much did not want that to happen. It had thrown their situation into harsh reality—these people were out there and they were a very real threat.

Plus, as the days had progressed, he’d been plagued by a constant feeling of unease. It was like his anxiety had been cranked up to eleven. He didn’t mention anything, mostly because there really wasn’t anything to be done about it and he didn’t want to worry Herobrine needlessly while he was recovering. But every day he woke up vaguely sick and every night he dreaded what he would see when he closed his eyes.

The last night at the lake was no exception. As he settled on the bedroll, laying next to Herobrine as they’d been doing every night, he could feel the creeping anxiety prickling across his skin. The thought of sleeping was enough to induce fear in him, and he contemplated staying awake some of the nights, but he knew Herobrine would be able to tell and would question him and then he’d have a bigger problem on his hands. So he closed his eyes and let sleep claim him despite his reservations.

But they weren’t without reason.

He was standing in a dimly lit hallway. The walls were a smooth, black material, barely illuminated by a sporadic placement of torches burning teal. On both sides, doors were spaced out evenly and seemed to stretch on forever.

He turned to his right and approached the nearest door. Like the others, the door seemed to be made of spruce wood. Reaching for the handle, he frowned when it jiggled but held fast—locked.

All the doors he tried were locked. His footsteps echoed loudly as he walked down the hallway, periodically trying to open doors. He felt compelled to continue down the hall, despite the continued failure to open any of the doors. After a while he stopped trying, his attention drawn by a faint buzzing. The farther he walked, the louder it became, and the faster his heart raced. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but when he saw it, he instantly knew.

The door was not spruce, instead it was that same redish wood he’d seen in one of the rooms in the fortress. Vines criss-crossed the surface of the door and tangled around the handle. He held his hand out but paused half-way. His hand shook.

The buzzing, like bees drilling directly into his brain, disturbed his thought process. He shouldn’t open the door, but the buzzing was unbearable. If he just opened the door a little, maybe it would stop. It didn’t occur to him how he knew this particular door would open.

His fingers barely brushed against the knob and the door burst open, slamming into the wall on the inside. In the silence, it sounded like an explosion. An icy wind blew from within the pitch black room, freezing the blood in his veins. His body started trembling without his control as he stared into an empty void.

Without warning, the darkness coalesced into a thick, tar-like substance that spilled into the hall. The ooze was black with glowing purple swirls that pulsed like a heart beat. It radiated a coldness that invaded the entire hall, so much so that Steve could see his breaths puff in front of his face.

He backed up on shaky legs as more and more ooze escaped the room. It writhed unnaturally, as if it had a mind of its own, spreading closer and closer.

Then, with a high pitched scream that made him gasp in pain and wince, throwing both hands over his ears, the tar shot out at him. He was barely able to dodge as he stumbled back. The oozing tar twitched violently before rearing up and bearing down on him.

He turned and ran, helpless to do anything else, but the tar caught his foot. He was sent crashing to the floor, dazed. He could feel an absolute numbness spread along his body where the tar touched him. It had swallowed his foot and was creeping up his leg, feeling like a thousand needles before all sensation ceased in the areas consumed by it.

He cried out in fear and tried desperately to get away, to dislodge the tar’s vice like grip, but it was amorphous—there was nothing to attack, like trying to fight water.

The ooze captured his other leg. He grit his teeth against the pain and started clawing at the floor. As if incensed by his struggles, the tar jumped up his body, wrapping around his chest. He gasped, the fight slowly leaving him as it felt like the lower portion of his body had simply stopped existing. He pawed weakly at the floor, reaching futilely for someone to help him. The tar passed over his shoulders and crept up his neck, then his vision went black as it consumed him whole.

He woke in a panic, phantom sensations of the ooze clinging to his limbs. There was pressure on his shoulder and he flinched away, breathing heavily as he looked to the side.

It was only Herobrine, of course, on his side and propped up on his elbow. His other hand had been on Steve’s shoulder and was now hovering uselessly between them.

Steve swallowed his nerves and sighed, laying back down with a huff. He scrubbed his face with his hands, taking a deep breath.

“Another nightmare?” Herobrine asked, dropping his hand but remaining propped up so he could look fully into Steve’s face. Steve peaked at him from between his fingers, nodding.

Herobrine nodded as well, finally relaxing back onto the bedroll. They laid there in silence for a few moments while Steve tried to get his breathing under control. It was still dark out, probably around two or three.

“Did I wake you?” Steve asked quietly. He looked over just as Herobrine gave a half-shrug.

“Not really. I was kinda dozing but your hand smacked right into my face and got my attention. At first I thought you were just moving in your sleep but I could tell after watching for a few moments that you were having a nightmare. I was just surprised because you weren’t making any noise.”

“Oh.” Steve felt his cheeks warm. “Sorry.”

Herobrine shook his head. “It’s okay. Like I said, I wasn’t really sleeping.”

Steve nodded again but remained silent. Already the contents of the dream were slipping away from him, but he remembered feeling paralyzed, helpless as he was dragged under a suffocating force. He shuddered, rubbing a hand along his neck absentmindedly and turned onto his side to face Herobrine.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Herobrine asked. Steve just noticed that he had a book, of all things, resting face down on his stomach.

“I hardly remember it,” he half-lied. For some reason, the prospect of talking about it seemed monumental. Nothing about his fading recollection of the dream suggested anything important had transpired, so he didn’t know why even thinking of talking about it made him feel uneasy, but he wasn’t going to talk about it regardless so the feeling was moot he supposed.

Herobrine made a sound of acknowledgement and tapped his fingers against the spine of the book. A short gust of wind made Steve shiver and he scooted closer. Herobrine automatically and obligingly lifted his arm to allow Steve to tuck in close, settling his head on Herobrine’s shoulder.

“Are you going to go back to sleep?” Herobrine asked. His arm was curled up under Steve’s head to allow his fingers to drag lazy, abstract designs into Steve’s arm as they laid there.

“I probably should,” Steve said, yawning right after as if his body was trying to prove a point. But the thought of potentially being sucked right back into the nightmare made sleeping sound horrible and filled him with enough dread he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he wanted to. “Maybe in a bit.”

They didn’t speak for a while. The only sound was the fire and the tapping of Herobrine’s fingers against the book.

“What are you reading?” He asked. And where did he even get it?

“A profoundly inaccurate book about myself.”

Steve lifted his head a little as Herobrine picked up the book and showed him the cover. Mobs and the Horrors of The Beyond.

“It was in your pack.”

“Oh, it must be one of the books I asked Alex to get for me.”

When he looked up, Herobrine’s face said it all. Steve smiled and explained, “After we met I asked her to get some information about you if she could. I mean, I already knew the stories and myths but considering you’re real, I thought maybe there was some information I hadn’t heard. I never got around to reading all of what she gave me though.”

“Good, because this book is wildly inaccurate. Not just about me but about the Nether and The End as well.”

“How so?”

“There’s so much I wouldn’t even know where to begin. The most glaring inaccuracy is my alleged presence in the Overworld at all. Obviously I have not been stalking unfortunate souls caught out at night.” Herobrine scoffed. “As if I’d waste my time on something so meaningless.”

“Now that you mention it, I remember Alex bringing that up before we left. We both found it strange that people in the Overworld would know your name at all, and the fact that you have white eyes. That’s the only thing that everyone seems to agree on—no matter what it actually is, it definitely had white eyes.”

“I would say it was a new type of mob, but now that there are more people like me, obviously it’s them.”

“I kinda thought that too. It’s just weird that the Overworld knows your name.”

“That part I do find curious. I would have thought the Gods eager to erase me from history.”

“Maybe the people like you told everyone your name?”

“But then how did they know it?” Herobrine asked, then spoke before Steve could respond. “Actually, I think I know. That woman Adelaide mentioned that my research had not been destroyed. Someone in their group must have known about it or discovered it after some time.” Herobrine frowned. “I wonder if that means one of them is old enough to have been alive when I was banished.”

“If that is the case, why didn’t the Aether do anything about them?”

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that question the whole time.”

Steve wiggled closer and reached his arm over to give Herobrine a hug. Herobrine closed the book and set it aside, then turned onto his side, scooting down a bit so they were face to face. Steve smiled and Herobrine returned a smaller one.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what happened after I was stabbed?”

Steve’s smile dropped instantly and he furrowed his brows. He swallowed his nerves. “You mean with Sini?”

“More like, why did he leave you?”

“He said he didn’t care about some ‘ultimate goal,’” Steve recalled. “Then he just left.”

Herobrine scowled. “That asshole really just came looking for a fight.”

“He also promised a round two.”

“Oh I hope he shows his face again. I’m not going to let that fucker get the drop on me again.”

Steve almost didn’t say anything, but what had happened with Sini was developing into a pattern that did not speak well for any future encounters.

“Are you sure? What happened…it’s not the first time you were hurt because of me.” He cupped the right side of Herobrine’s face, over the faded scar that ran through his forehead, eye, and cheek. Sure, it had healed spectacularly, but that was only because of Herobrine’s natural healing ability. And clearly, these people knew how to combat that. “I’m a liability to you, probably more now than ever.” He hated the thought of Herobrine getting hurt because of him. Steve was putting his all into a chance at this relationship and if Herobrine was distracted by him and it cost him his life? It would be devastating. Even just the thought made his eyes sting and he blinked rapidly, taking a deep breath.

Herobrine didn’t look happy about it, but he had nothing to say. He looked like he wanted to refute, but they both knew it was inevitably going to happen again. Steve at least appreciated Herobrine not making an empty promise.

Steve sighed and lowered his hand, pulling both of them to his chest and closing his eyes. Sleep was creeping back up on him, and enough time had passed that he only remembered a vague dread from his forgotten dream.

“You don’t have to promise it won’t happen again,” he whispered. “Just promise to try.”

He didn’t get an answer until he was fading into unconsciousness, succumbing to slumber. The words were almost inaudible.

“I promise.”

Unfortunately, he did not feel much better waking up. He didn’t fall back into the dream, but he felt incredibly uneasy as he opened his eyes. He was facing the forest this time, and when he turned onto his back, he discovered he had the bedroll to himself. He relaxed and let himself breath, trying to tell himself everything was going to be okay, but there was a small part of him—a growing small part of him—that was screaming, warning him that something was going to happen.

He tried to ignore it, looking over to see what Herobrine was up to. He and Alex were sitting by the fire. Herobrine was shirtless and they had unravelled the bandage to expose and inspect the wound.

Steve sighed and sat up, resigning himself to the day. They’d already decided to move on today, so their brief moment of respite would have to come to an end. Steve was as unenthused as he was excited—on one hand, he wanted to see Herobrine’s village and help him through the experience, but on the other, he was worried that any change to their situation would be disastrous to their relationship. They were existing so well in this little bubble of presumed safety. Steve was extremely hesitant to change anything. But he knew they’d have to leave eventually. Didn’t mean he had to like it.

He stretched and finally stood, walking over. “How’s it look?” He asked, standing beside Alex to see himself.

“It’s hard to tell,” Alex said. “I think it’s starting to heal quicker but wouldn’t you know it, never been stabbed so, not really sure what the healing progression’s supposed to look like.”

“You’ve never been stabbed?” Herobrine asked incredulously. “Yeah, I find that hard to believe.”

“And what’s that suppose to mean?” Alex accused, narrowing her eyes. Herobrine really was playing a dangerous gaming sassing her within striking distance.

“Oh just, you know, I’m sure you’ve traveled a lot. Been around, see some shit. Didn’t mean anything by it.” Though his expression said otherwise.

Alex stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, I’m so sure. Anyway let me just talk to someone who actually has something meaningful to say.” She turned to him with a smile. “So, we’re finally leaving, right?”

Steve looked between her and Herobrine. They had already decided to leave, and though he would rather stay, looking at the two of them now, they were in good enough shape to press on.

He sighed. “Yes. Might as well.”

“I’ll get ready then.”

As she went to get her things and pack everything back up, he took a seat next to Herobrine.

“How is it, really?”

Herobrine made a face and touched lightly along the wound. “It’s healing quicker, just not as quick as I’d prefer. I think whatever was done is starting to wear off.”

Steve smiled. “That’s a relief. Maybe it’s a sign things are going to start going right for us.”

“Yeah I wouldn’t bet on that,” Herobrine said, patting Steve’s knee before standing. His expression turned sour when he held up Steve’s shirt he’d been wearing. “You know, I thought this shirt would have stretched out by now, but it’s being annoyingly resistant.”

“You could always forego the shirt,” Steve suggested innocently.

“Oh yeah? You wouldn’t happen to have an ulterior motive with that helpful suggestion, would you?”

Steve put a hand over his heart, as if offended. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I’m so sure you don’t know,” Herobrine agreed sarcastically, holding a hand out. Steve took it and Herobrine helped him up. “Tell you what, if we get to a desert I’ll gladly walk around shirtless.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

They started packing up, but the entire time, Steve was distracted. The uneasy he felt waking up was increasing as the morning went on. He kept looking to the South, feeling like he was being watched, or that someone was calling his name, just barely audible. By the time they were ready to leave, both Herobrine and Alex had noticed his odd behavior and had questioned him about it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Alex asked one last time. Everything was packed, he and Alex had donned their armor again, and they were all ready to continue on. Steve just had a bad feeling and couldn’t shake it.

“Yeah, I said I was,” he replied, but his attention was still on the trees, as if he could spot whatever was drawing his attention. But there was nothing there.

“Yeah but…” Alex trailed off. It was silent for a few seconds, then Steve felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking to get his attention. He blinked and looked over. Herobrine was next to him, both him and Alex sporting the same expression of concerned confusion.

“What are you looking at?” Herobrine asked plainly.

“I…I don’t know,” he answered, already turning his head to look again at the trees but Herobrine put a hand on his cheek and kept his head facing them.

“There’s nothing there,” he said slowly, staring hard into Steve’s eyes. “I would be able to sense someone out there and I can promise you it’s just us.”

Steve didn’t have a response. He didn’t even realize he was looking into the trees until they called him out on it.

Herobrine sighed and dropped his hand to grab Steve’s instead, pulling him towards Alex. Steve went along with it, glancing over his shoulder. He could swear it sounded like someone was calling his name faintly—like someone was reaching for him and his mind was telling him to reach back.

“Come on,” Herobrine said to Alex as he walked past her. “We’re getting away from this area.”

“Works for me,” she agreed, and followed along behind them.

They walked until noon, exiting the birch forest into another plains. Herobrine kept his grip on Steve’s hand, leading him forward while Alex trailed behind him, whistling to herself periodically. There was a quiet air to the group, as if Herobrine and Alex were walking on eggshells because of him. Leaving the birch forest had helped a bit—he wasn’t hearing anything, but he constantly felt like someone was drilling holes into the back of his head. His anxiety over being watched was making him feel vaguely sick the longer they walked. 

They stopped for a break at noon. Steve wasn’t hungry and sat with his back to the South, trying to ignore the feeling. It wasn’t working so well.

The plains didn’t offer much in terms of a distraction either. The one they were currently in was large, one of the largest he’d seen, with little to no scenery changes. There were some animals here and there, some horses which were always enjoyable to watch for a bit, but that was it. Nothing substantial enough to prevent his mind from panicking about nothing.

Until they reached the border of the plains and a forest, and saw a farmhouse.

The house was large, tucked into some trees right on the edge of the biomes. In front of it, spreading seemingly uncontrollably, was a huge plot of farmland. Wheat, carrots, potatoes, beetroot—everything anyone could need, randomly planted and flourishing under attentive care. There was no one out and about, but with how clean and trim everything looked, someone had to live there.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Alex commented. Steve didn’t see how. With his luck, whoever lived here was probably an axe murderer.

“Is it?” Herobrine asked, sounding just as doubtful as Steve felt. Their confusion increased when Alex started stripping off her armor. With her pants still ripped at the knee on the one leg, without armor she looked fairly haggard, like she’d just been attacked and barely escaped.

“What are you doing?” Herobrine asked, annoyed as Alex shoved her armor and pack at him. She smiled and untied her braid, shaking her hair out and letting it sit wildly around her shoulders.

“Looking like a damsel in distress, obviously. Now lay low, and watch me work my magic.” She winked at them and started hobbling toward the farmhouse, playing up her injury. They’d kept the bandage on just for a little bit of added protection against the elements, so it really helped sell her appearance.

“There is nothing ‘damsel’ about that woman,” Herobrine commented as she approached the farmhouse. Steve could hear her faint yelling, calling out for help, and a man and woman answering, panicked.

Steve chuckled, taking a seat on the grass and patting the space beside him. Herobrine dropped Alex’s things and obliged, sitting close to him. Steve sighed and leaned against him, watching the couple help Alex into their house. “What are they saying?”

“Alex said she was attacked in a mine and hurt herself. The man is going to take a look at her injury and the woman is going to give her new clothes.”

“Wow, just like that huh? Must be nice,” he commented without feeling. “If I tried that, it’d be nothing but excuses as to why they couldn’t help.”

Herobrine put a hand on his knee and Steve sighed again, putting his hand on Herobrine’s. The hurt was faint, at this point in his life, but he was grateful for Herobrine’s comfort all the same.

“Not if I was with you,” Herobrine said after a beat. Steve glanced up to see Herobrine already looking at him. He smiled and leaned down, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “I don’t know how you feel about threatening people but I’m very good at that.”

Steve couldn’t bring himself to smile, feeling suddenly melancholy. He looked back at the farm and leaned his head against Herobrine’s shoulder again.

“I think I’d prefer if we ran away and lived in a cabin in the woods. I could be happy never seeing another human again.”

Herobrine leaned his head against Steve’s. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Inexplicably, Steve felt his eyes begin stinging and he blinked rapidly to stave off the tears. It was amazing, having someone care so much. He just never expected it to hurt as well. But that Herobrine would so immediately agree to leave everything behind—even if only hypothetically—it was doing things to him. He’d already proclaimed the trust he had in Herobrine, but he had doubts that it could be reciprocated. Living a life of rejection was not an easy mindset to escape. But right now, in this moment, he was starting to believe that the universe really was going to let him have this. Someone just as willing to leave everything behind and live like a hermit in the woods as they’re willing to threaten bodily harm on anyone who so much as looks at them funny. It was going to take Steve a long time to accept Herobrine’s words and actions as genuine, but he could envision it in their future. And as the saying went, no better time than the present.

He dropped his gaze from the house and settled it on Herobrine’s hand, which was still on his knee. After a few seconds he reached forward and picked it up. He ran his fingers over the scars on the knuckles, frowning. More scars, most small, were splattered across the fingers and the back. It was the hand of someone who hadn’t lived an easy life.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked suddenly. He refused to look up, keeping his gaze focused on Herobrine’s hand as he turned it over to inspect the palm. Surprisingly clear of scars, unlike his own. 

He felt Herobrine lift his head up but still refused to look. “What do you mean?”

“You know, traveling with me, going through all this.” He made a vague gesture. “I know you said you wanted to find out more about these people like you but…don’t you want…” He struggled to string the words together then sighed, dropping it. “I don’t know.”

The longer silence stretched on, the more like a petulant child ignoring a parent he felt like. But he steadfastly kept his attention on Herobrine’s hand, until finally Herobrine spoke.

“Steve.”

He ducked his head a bit, finally tearing his eyes from Herobrine’s hand to the grass. He knew the feelings were ridiculous and he did feel ashamed of his reactions, but at the same time, he didn’t know how to react to a lot of these new thoughts, feelings, and experiences. He’d never been with someone romantically nor had he ever expected it to happen. He was discovering that, while being alone hurt, having someone ripped away was going to hurt a thousand times worse and he was scared of that outcome. Even if Herobrine was invincible, there were a thousand ‘what if’ questions that he knew would plague him.

He heard Herobrine sigh and felt his face redden. The shame was minimal but hard to shake.

“I don’t know what I can say to make you believe that this is what I want,” Herobrine answered. Steve drew his knees up, hugging them and still averting his gaze.

“But don’t you want to see everything you’ve missed?” He truly didn’t know what he was doing. Why was he trying to convince Herobrine into leaving when the thought alone felt like his heart being ripped from his chest?

“I will eventually.”

“But—“

“Steve, look at me.”

He did reluctantly, expecting the worst, but Herobrine looked exasperated in an amused way, rather than annoyed or angry. He waited until Steve was looking at him to speak.

“I want to be here,” he said clearly. “I told you before, I would leave if I wanted to. Yes, I do want to see what the Overworld has to offer now, but I want you to be there too. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m free to just be me. I don’t feel like I have to conform to any expectations. And you should feel the same way.” Herobrine smiled softly and reached for Steve’s hand, holding it tightly. “There’s no right or wrong way, in a relationship. I’m not going to leave just because you don’t know what you’re doing. Truthfully, I haven’t been in a real relationship before either. All of my past relationships were short flings I used for my own advantage, people I lied to and tricked to get my way. I never felt the desire to see someone again until I met you, and that’s when we were barely friends. I already told you what a mess I was whenever you returned home and I was stuck in the Nether. So don’t worry about feeling inadequate or disinteresting. We can learn how to be together in our own way.”

Steve stared in awe, unable to formulate a response. He didn’t understand how Herobrine could be so immediately accepting, though, if he thought about it, he felt the same way, at least about part of it. He felt comfortable, around Herobrine. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was supposed to meet an unspoken expectation. Though, hearing how Herobrine felt made him in turn feel better about his inexperience. If it didn’t bother Herobrine, why let it bother him?

And dammit, he could feel his eyes start stinging again. He blinked and squeezed his eyes shut, using Herobrine’s grip on his hand to pull them together. He threw his arms around Herobrine’s neck, holding tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, breaking his rule again but he couldn’t help it. “I want to do better but I’m scared of screwing everything up.”

“You don’t have to be,” Herobrine responded quietly, wrapping his arms around Steve’s back and returning the hug. “Just be yourself.”

Steve vehemently refused to cry, squeezing his eyes shut harder then smushing his face into Herobrine’s shoulder when he still felt the tears build up. Herobrine rubbed his back gently and it did nothing to help him get his act together.

After a few moments, he pulled back, though only enough so he could look into Herobrine’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s what I’m here for,” Herobrine said with a smile, shrugging a bit. “Just tell me when you feel like this again and I’ll do my best to help.”

“Then you have to too.”

Herobrine chuckled. “Deal.”

“Ew, you two aren’t about to start making out, are you? I might throw up.”

Steve watched in amusement as Herobrine’s expression instantly soured. The two of them looked over to see Alex, looking refreshed and holding a full pack. She was wearing a new pair on pants and had her hair up in a pony tail.

“Wouldn’t you know it, the mood was just completely ruined.” Herobrine stood and held out a hand to help him up.

“Hm, wonder what could have caused that,” Alex commented innocently.

Herobrine looked like he was rolling his eyes. “Yeah, weird huh.”

“Anyway, those people were total suckers. I got bread and dried meats, some fruit and vegetables. And this.” She pulled out a bottle from behind her back. The liquid inside was a gold color but the shape of the bottle gave it away.

“Is that alcohol?” Steve asked, and Alex grinned, nodding.

“It’s mead.”

Steve made a face. Alcohol was typically a no-go for him, strictly because he would never want to be tipsy or drunk while alone. Herobrine, however, looked at it curiously.

“Mead?”

“Alcohol from honey,” Alex explained, passing the bottle to him so he could inspect it. “You ever have alcohol before?”

He frowned, annoyed. “Do you think I’m a child? Of course I’ve had alcohol.”

She held up her hands in defense. “Well damn, I don’t know. You look like you could have a baby face under all that scruff,” she teased. Herobrine gave her a flat look which she laughed at.

“Vodka was the drink of choice last I was here,” Herobrine said. Both Steve and Alex looked at him in surprise, but Alex’s was a happy surprise.

“Oh my Gods, I would pay to see you fucked up on vodka.”

“Unfortunately, my powers prevent me from getting drunk unless I consume what I presume would normally be a fatal amount of alcohol. I tried getting drunk when I found alcohol in destroyed caravans and in the packs of deceased travelers in the Nether, but even chugging a whole bottle did nothing but give me a bad taste in the mouth.”

“Damn. Well, a girl can dream.”

“Please don’t dream about me.”

“Too late,” she sing-songed, winking. Herobrine glared as she chuckled.

“What about you Steve, you ever get fucked up?” Alex asked. He shook his head.

“The most I’ve had is one beer, when I turned eighteen. But I’ve always been scared of drinking too much and leaving myself defenseless.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day. We can drink and Herobrine can keep watch.” She clapped a hand on his shoulder, offering him a friendly smile. “You need to let loose, not worry for a night, you know? What do you say?”

Well, if Herobrine kept watch, he didn’t have a reason not to. The thought of drinking wasn’t the problem, it was the vulnerability he never wanted to subject himself to.

“I suppose…” He agreed tentatively. Alex beamed.

“Perfect. We’ll crack this bad boy open tonight when we make camp.” She stowed the bottle and then turned to the both of them, hands on her hips. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving. Let’s find some shade and eat.”

They moved into the forest, just enough so Alex and Steve could settled against the base of a tree while allowing Herobrine to sit in the sun. While Steve knew the circumstances that lead to Herobrine’s preference of hotter temperatures, he still couldn’t believe anyone would choose to bake in the sun like that. The sun felt like it was extra hot to make up for the days it had been overcast. At least there was a breeze every so often.

Herobrine declined to eat, so Alex and Steve shared some of the bread and cured beef. Alex also brought out two of the water bottles she’d been given and gave one to Steve. It was a simple meal, but definitely hit the spot. Steve never cared for what he ate and usually his meals were small to conserve as much food as possible before be inevitably needed to find a village for more. His small farms could only produce so quickly and he was usually too tired to hunt down something like a cow or pig. So having regular meals like this was a blessing he didn’t take for granted.

Once they were finished, Alex pulled out a map. “Alright, they also gave me this and helped me figure out a route to get to where we need to go.”

“Herobrine’s village?” Steve asked. Alex shook her head.

“No, a village with an extensive enough library to have information about his village. Kinda hard to find a village if you don’t know the name.”

“I’ve been trying to remember but I keep coming up blank. Riv-something,” Herobrine said.

“And that’s fine, it’s been 200 years after all, no one could blame you. But yeah, there’s actually a village relatively close by that will hopefully have the information we need.” She pointed on the map. “Here’s approximately where we are.” She slid her finger from their location to a different one. “And here’s where the village is.” She looked up at Steve. “See a problem?”

He did. The village was in a taiga on the other side of the forest they’d just entered, to their west.

“What problem?” Herobrine asked. Steve sighed, smiling at Herobrine.

“It’s in a taiga.”

Herobrine groaned. “Dammit it.”

“Sorry man, but there’s no way around it,” Alex said with a shrug. “But I was told it’s a large village with an inn, so if we time it right, we won’t have to sleep outside.”

“Still not looking forward to the snow,” Herobrine muttered, causing the two of them to look at him in confusion.

“It doesn’t snow in taigas,” Steve said.

“Yeah, what are you talking about?” Alex added.

Herobrine looked between them, furrowing his brows. “It doesn’t?”

“Nope. We crossed one just the other day, you know, with the spruce trees?” Alex said. Herobrine made a face of realization.

”Oh. That was a taiga? I thought…maybe I’m remembering wrong…” Herobrine trailed off with a hum of uncertainty.

“Yep, but like I said, we should be able to time it so we don’t have to actually sleep outside.” She paused to smirk. “Though, at least you have Steve to keep you warm.”

Steve blushed, glaring weakly at Alex, but it was true. He would never get used to her bluntness.

“I suppose that’s true,” Herobrine agreed, coming out of his thoughts and winking at Steve, making him blush harder.

“But it shouldn’t be a problem. It’ll only take us about a day and a half to reach where the taiga starts, so we’ll have to camp for the remainder of the second day and wake up early the third to make it to the village before nightfall.”

“I can be the wake up call,” Herobrine offered.

“Great. Then we should get going.”

They stood and started walking. Steve hesitated for a moment, looking over his shoulder, back the way they’d come. He still felt anxious about something he couldn’t name. It wasn’t as bad, but if he stopped and listened, he could swear he heard his name being called, both whispered on the wind and yelled from a distance. He shuddered and turned away, catching up to Herobrine and Alex.

“You okay?” Herobrine asked, as Steve fell into step with him.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled. “Just thought I heard something.”

Blake sighed for the hundredth time in what felt like an hour, glaring to his right. His unwanted companion paid no mind and continued walking beside him, despite his attempts to persuade it to fuck off. He knew that he had the power to command mobs, but he didn’t know how to use it. He tried talking to it, both out loud and in his mind, but the annoying enderman just tilted its head at him and made a sound like it was laughing. Oh, nothing pissed him off more.

The enderman had appeared before him, nearly giving him a heart attack, but despite looking directly into its eyes, it hadn’t attacked him. It hadn’t shown any signs of aggression, which was weird enough that Blake was wary around it and wondered if killing it was a good idea. He remembered mobs acting strange, around the others.

The longer they walked, the more annoyed Blake became, until finally he rounded on the enderman and snarled, “What the fuck is your problem? Leave me alone.”

The enderman, instead of being scared and running away, leaned toward him. It’s intense gaze made him want to look away out of habit, but he no longer felt instinctively afraid of it, so he kept eye contact, glaring.

”You look different. I do not think you are the same human,” the enderman said, its ethereal voice echoing in his head and holy shit, endermen could talk!? Blake stared wide eyed at it as it continued. “But you feel the same. In here.” It touched his chest and he blinked, jolting out of his thoughts to slap the enderman’s hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” he sneered. The enderman retracted its hand and tilted its head at him. The display of innocence infuriated him.

”No, I think you are not the same. You are too angry.”

“I’m angry because I have an enderman following me around!” Blake yelled. “Get the fuck out of here!”

”I am looking for my human. Can you help me?” It said, as if it hadn’t heard him. He gnashed his teeth together, baring them at the enderman in rage.

“I’ve got my own problems,” he bit out. “I don’t have time for yours.”

The enderman made a sound and turned to scan their surroundings. Blake’s expression of anger faded a bit when he saw the long, slightly off-color scar across the enderman’s back. He’d never seen a mob other than a zombie with scars.

“I think I will accompany you.”

“And I think that’s a bad idea.” He balled his fists at his sides. “Leave me alone or I will kill you.” He glared at the enderman one last time before turning around and continuing to walk. He immediately heard the enderman start to follow him and spun around, throwing a punch. His fist met air as the enderman teleported to the side. Growling, Blake pointed at it.

“Fine, if you’re going to be unreasonable, you can follow me if you stay away. I don’t want to see you, got it?”

The enderman made a low sound. ”I can accept that condition.” It gestured to itself. ”I have been named Buddy.”

“Whatever,” Blake snorted, turning back around and stalking away.

He scoffed to himself. What fucking idiot named an enderman Buddy anyway?

Chapter Text

For some reason, Herobrine wasn’t worried about the impending night of drinking Alex had instigated.

Truthfully he thought it was a good idea, at least in the sense that Steve definitely needed to chill out for a night and not worry about anything but keeping his dinner in his stomach. Herobrine remembered that much about alcohol, but considering they only had the one bottle, he wasn’t expecting too much. Alex seemed like the kinda girl to hustle people in drinking contests so he doubted nothing short of an entire bottle of hard liquor on an empty stomach would be potent enough to take her down a few pegs, but with Steve’s claim of only ever having the one beer when he was younger, well, Herobrine was interested to see how it went, to say the least. If nothing else, he hoped Steve was a happy, touchy-feely kinda drunk or tipsy because Herobrine was definitely going to take advantage of him, if that was the case. He’d have to find an excuse to get away from Alex, but that was a problem for future him to solve. Present him was imagining all the sounds Steve might make when he shoved his tongue down his throat.

And once the idea had occurred to him—well, once he really started thinking about it because the idea had already occurred to him before they even kissed for the first time—he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Steve’s complete lack of experience put the responsibility of navigating the more sexual aspect of their relationship entirely on Herobrine’s shoulders. Which was fine for the most part, save for Herobrine’s previous experience warring with his desire to actually take things slow for once. He was no slouch when it came to sex—he knew how to get around, what to say and how to act to get exactly what he wanted. But he didn’t want that with Steve, despite how much the man would probably be okay with it. With anything, honestly. Herobrine wanted to savor every single blush, every eager fidget, every excited look as they explored each other together. He wanted it so much he was willing to cockblock himself on numerous occasions just to make Steve feel comfortable. Every time they kissed he had to force himself to keep it light lest he pin Steve to the ground and ravage his mouth, leaving him a blushing, panting mess in the aftermath. Even just the thought made arousal curl sweetly in his gut, egging him on.

Which was somewhat part of the reason why he was surprised he wasn’t worried about tonight. Because alcohol and sex were synonymous to him, but for obvious reasons he didn’t have high expectations for tonight. For one, he wasn’t going to be drinking. And for two, he and Steve had not breeched the subject of physical intimacy in the slightest. Though, he wasn’t one to turn down a little drunken frottage, if it came to that. He didn’t want to upset the balance they had, despite his increasing interest in doing just that by taking the next step. Which, in his mind, was bending Steve over the nearest surface and fucking him senseless. But considering Steve’s frustrating lack of experience, Herobrine was actually trying to be tactful about things. It was something out of his comfort zone but he believed what he’d told Steve—they could learn together. Steve to be vulnerable with another person, and Herobrine to slow down and enjoy the little things. He had to admit, waking up in the embrace of another was a nice change of pace already, something he knew he could get used to for the foreseeable future. Steve wasn’t just another tally mark for him, he was the real deal, the catalyst to a glimpse of what life could be like. And just like Steve helping him see that, he could help Steve see the more carnal aspects life had to offer, when he’d been too scared to explore them before. And it was something Herobrine would be happy to do. It just had to be done right.
 
So maybe taking action while Steve was under the influence wasn’t the honorable way to go about things, but Herobrine was not known to be honorable. Though, ultimately, the upcoming events depended entirely on how drunk Steve was able to get sharing a single bottle of mead and what kind of drunk he was. Herobrine got the feeling he could be a happy drunk, maybe even the ‘pour-your-heart-out’ kinda drunk, but given his life Herobrine could also see him being fairly reserved even while intoxicated, his ingrained belief to keep to himself so strong not even alcohol could loosen it.

Though perhaps there was something Herobrine could do to make it known that he was very okay with taking things a step farther. Namely, kissing. Kissing was great, he enjoyed kissing Steve and the feeling of being wanted it instilled in him when Steve actively sought it out, but his desire to take control, to dominate the kiss and leave Steve breathless and blushing was becoming so strong, he knew it was inevitable before something gave between them.

He had an idea about how to go about it naturally though, as opposed to just practically assaulting poor Steve like he wanted. Being with Steve definitely presented its challenges but Herobrine was never one to back down from anything and he wasn’t going to start now.

And potentially getting to see Steve happy and loose and maybe a little drunk, face flushed pink and pupils blown wide in those beautiful violet eyes? Herobrine was only a man.

Even with all those thoughts cycling through his head, the day passed too slowly for his taste. There was an electric energy zipping along his nerves, anxious to stop to rest and break out the mead. There was still the possibility that Steve was the quiet, closed off kind of drunk, but Herobrine would bet all his money on the opposite.

He argued with Alex to distract himself as they walked through the forest. She kept insisting that her girlfriend was real and Herobrine sarcastically agreed with her, which only increased her frustration, much to Herobrine’s amusement. Steve kept silent on the matter but the smile on his face made Herobrine believe he’d have an ally in this argument.

There was only one thing that continued to put a damper on Herobrine’s good mood—Steve’s odd behavior. He didn’t know if Steve was actively trying to hide it or didn’t realize he was doing it at all, but he kept glancing over his shoulder, a far off look in his eyes. It was never for more than a second, but Steve had been heavily distracted before they’d left the lake, like there’d been something right there that only he could see. Herobrine wanted to believe that it was nothing, because he couldn’t sense anything dangerous around them, but he hadn’t sensed Sini either, and look how that had turned out. So he kept an eye out but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to upset Steve and have him change his mind about the alcohol. He wanted the mead to help Steve forget about whatever was distracting him so he could finally have a relaxing night.

Alex checked her map once the sun was nearing the horizon and nodded to herself.

“This is as good a spot as any,” she proclaimed, walking over and settling against the sheer rock wall of a large nearby hill, discarding her pack with a sigh. “I don’t know about you two but I’m beat.”

“Me too,” Steve said, planting himself on the grass in front of her and laying on his back, limbs spread.

“Hungry?” Alex asked, dragging her bag closer and rooting through it. Herobrine took a seat beside Steve.

“Eh, not really,” Steve said, a hand on his stomach. “I think it’s too early.”

Herobrine almost said something about drinking on an empty stomach and how badly it could turn out—especially for a lightweight—but Alex caught his attention and winked, so he remained silent on the matter. Ah, so she was actively trying to get Steve drunk. A little underhanded, but considering Herobrine’s own thoughts on the matter, he’d allow it.

“In that case, I’m whipping this bad boy out now,” she said, pulling the mead from the bag. Steve lifted his head to look at it, grimacing. With a sigh he pushed himself up.

“Don’t look so down,” Alex commented. She pulled two of the empty water bottles from her pack and uncorked the mead, taking a deep breath over it and making a sound of approval. “Oh yeah, this is gonna be good.” She smiled as she filled up both bottles.

“I’m not down, just…wary,” Steve answered, taking one of the bottles when Alex held it out for him. His expression said it all when he looked into the gold liquid.

“Well don’t be. Everything’s gonna be fine, promise. Plus, we got our own personal bouncer, so no one’s gonna be raining on our parade, got it?”

Steve’s expression was still unsure when he looked up at Herobrine. Considering his stance on the topic, he merely smiled and nodded, agreeing with Alex.

“I’ll do my utmost to make sure you can safely drink into the night.” He even bowed his head a little, as if swearing an oath. Just to make the mood a little lighter, as Steve seemed nervous enough at just the thought of drinking.

Steve did crack a little smile at that, and but it faded when he looked back down at the liquid. Herobrine was curious as to what it could taste like, as he’d only ever had vodka available to him in the past, at least as far as hard liquors went. If it was made from honey, he imagined it was more like beer than something hard like vodka. Probably tasted better too.

“Well, down the hatch!” Alex exclaimed, then chugged her bottle all in one go. Steve gulped as he watched her, then looked down at his own bottle, taking a breath before following her lead. He made a face while doing it, but he drank the entire bottle as well.

“Ahh,” Alex sighed, closing her eyes. “That hit the spot.”

“Like a hammer to the head,” Steve muttered with a grimace.

Alex snorted and began filling up her bottle again. “Everyone knows it gets better as long as you drink more.” She winked and gestured for his empty bottle, making grabby hands at it. “Gimme. We’re going and we’re not stopping until this bottle’s empty.”

With a sigh, but not seeming too put off by the thought, at least to Herobrine, Steve handed over his bottle, watching as Alex filled it back up and handed it to him again. This time she held out her own bottle between them.

“Cheers!” She said, waiting until Steve clinked bottles with her before chugging hers again. Steve did not ‘chug’ his per say, but he drank it quickly enough that he was probably going to be feeling dizzy or lightheaded any moment now, the pleasant buzz that signified a little too much alcohol in one’s system. Too bad they didn’t have enough to blow right past that limit.

“Did you want to try some?” Alex asked, holding out the entire bottle of mead for him.

He took it, inspecting it like he did earlier. Maybe one taste…He stared down at the dark bottle, watching the liquid slosh around inside. The longer he stared at it, the inexplicable feeling of hopelessness and dread crept up his spine, digging into his heart and refusing to let go. He could hear his heart beating loud in his ears, feel the heat of the Nether press in on all sides. He was alone and trapped, forgotten and used. He remembered the burn of alcohol in his throat and stomach as he attempted to drown his sorrows. Shattering glass pierced his ears, bottles thrown in anger at the walls. The Wither’s quiet laughter and whispered empty promises—

He blinked and took a sudden deep breath, rushing back to reality, averting his gaze from the bottle as he handed it back to Alex.

“Uhm…probably wouldn’t do much for me,” he said lightly, hoping neither of them noticed him zoning out. He tried to focus on Alex and Steve, willing the memories of lesser days away. That time had passed, and there was no use thinking about it now. Everything was as fine as it could be.

Alex accepted the bottle with a shrug. “Suit yourself. Bottom’s up Steve!”

She poured them another round. Herobrine took a quiet, subtle deep breath, looking first at Alex, then at Steve. Alex did not appear effected at all, whereas Steve’s face was the slightest bit flushed. Neither were even close to being too far gone though, so Herobrine continued watching, keeping his senses open to their surroundings but paying attention to the two humans for the most part, trying to ignore his unease.

After a few minutes and several more rounds as the bottle neared empty, Herobrine did start feeling a little better, though he hoped the unwarranted feelings and memories that were dredged to the front of his mind by the sight of alcohol didn’t happen every time. He would very much like to drink again, especially with Steve, even if only for appearances.

Speaking of which, the man was definitely feeling the alcohol now, face properly pink with an intoxicated blush. He had the look of someone enjoying the lightheaded buzz of pre-drunkenness, swaying ever so slightly back and forth in place, blinking a bit unevenly or too slowly. Every so often he would catch Herobrine looking at him and smile, wide and happy. He was sure he’d never get used to that automatic response—having someone smile at him and want his company was a marvel. And Gods, he wanted nothing more than to lean over and ravage Steve’s mouth, to press him into the grass and hear whatever sweet sounds he’d make, to feel hands and legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, begging for more.

He took a deep breath and shifted slightly in place, pulling the cloak more around himself to help conceal the interest his lower half was having in his thoughts. He did not want Alex to tease him about this and ruin his mood.

“You sure you don’t at least want to try some?” Alex asked, pouring the last of two more bottles before there was only a small mouthful of liquid left in the original bottle. She handed Steve’s bottle to him and he took it almost eagerly, immediately downing the entire thing. Herobrine watched as a small drop of mead escaped from between the bottle and his lips, trailing down to his chin. An idea popped into his head that was just too good to pass up, so he answered Alex as he leaned towards Steve.

“I guess I could try some,” was all the warning he gave as he slid a hand around the back of Steve’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, immediately slipping his tongue past Steve’s parted lips and exploring his mouth at leisure. Steve made a sound of surprise, one hand coming up to grasp his shirt weakly as he tried and failed to keep pace, eventually just giving up and letting Herobrine have his way. He made little whines and gasps as Herobrine denied him breath, tasting pleasantly more like honey than Herobrine had been expecting.

He pulled back after a while, licking his lips and smirking at Steve’s stunned face, which was now an enticing shade of red. His open-mouthed panting and the dazed look on his face tempted Herobrine to follow through on his thoughts from earlier, but they did have an audience, and Herobrine wasn’t going to give out free shows.

He leaned away and nodded his head at Alex. “Not bad. Tastes more like honey than I thought.”

Alex just shook her head with a smile before downing the rest of her drink, then handed the rest of the mead to Steve. “Here. Enjoy.”

Steve took it and downed it instantly, hiccuping once he was done.

“How do you feel?” Alex asked. Herobrine knew she would be a hard one to get drunk—she barely seemed affected, though there was a light blush on her fair cheeks, much more noticeable than Steve’s had been.

“I feel…light,” Steve said, laying back and spreading his arms out, closing his eyes and sighing. “The world’s spinning.”

“Yep, that sounds about right,” Alex chuckled, looking at Herobrine. “Want help getting a fire started?”

He stood. “No, it’s alright. I’ll just be a moment.”

Alex nodded and wrapped her arms around her knees. He stepped over Steve’s restless limbs and set out into the forest. He didn’t go far, in case something happened, and strained his senses to make sure, at the very least, no mobs even thought about getting close to them.

He returned with an armful of branches and got to work setting up a quick fire, lighting it and getting it roaring in no time. He greatly enjoyed the heat, sitting on the ground as close as he could to soak up as much as he could without outright sitting in the fire like a maniac.

Alex had decided they needed to move around and so had encouraged Steve to stand, the two of them linked arm and arm and…dancing was putting it nicely, but Herobrine got the impression they were attempting to dance. Alex was also half humming, half singing an unfamiliar song, Steve barely following along with unintelligible, half-slurred mumbles.

Herobrine still had a small smile on his face as he watched. It really was nice to see Steve let down his guard for once. Even if they did suspect Alex wasn’t being entirely truthful with them, Herobrine still appreciated all she did to make Steve feel comfortable. She seemed like a good friend and for all the shit he gave her, well, he would probably never tell her how much it meant to him to see Steve be able to connect with another human. There was a hope, way in the back of his mind, that whenever he and Steve decided to find a place to live, maybe they could find a village where most of the people could accept or just ignore Steve’s eyes. If only people knew him the way he and Alex did, they would know there was nothing to be afraid of.

He still liked the idea of building a house in the middle of nowhere, away from anyone who would even think about causing them problems. But it would be nice to have access to a village in case they ever needed supplies in a pinch. If his dream with the Wither was to be believed, his fortress and all his meager belongings were long gone. But he didn’t think he’d mind surviving off the land too much if Steve was with him.

After much longer than Herobrine would have given Steve credit for—he was sure the man would be passed out by now—the two collapsed side-by-side at the fire, giggling to each other. Alex’s face was red and her hair was partially out of its tie, giving her a wild appearance, but otherwise she seemed fine, just out of breath. Steve, on the other hand, was swaying back and forth and could barely blink at the same interval for both eyes, and the dreamy smile on his face spoke of his intoxication.

Unfortunately, when Steve did finally notice that Herobrine was sitting beside the fire as well and cozied up to him, he just sat there and leaned against Herobrine’s shoulder, eyes closed. It might have been the perfect opportunity to get a little handsy, but with Alex on the other side, Herobrine had to deal with just sitting there and lamenting over what could have been.

After a while, the fire started to dwindle, and Herobrine gently pushed Steve away so he could get up. Instead of sitting on his own, Steve laid down where he’d been sitting, mumbling something even Herobrine couldn’t make sense of.

“I’m going to get more wood,” he announced. Steve didn’t react but Alex, from where she was flopped onto her back, lifted her hand in acknowledgement.

He walked into the forest with a shake of his head and sought out an easy enough branch he could acquire. He spent much more time than he should have before he found a good sized, low branch that would fit his needs. He was about to rip it off when he heard stumbling and muttered curses, just before Steve came into view.

“Steve? What are you doing out here?” He asked, glancing behind the human. He could see Alex still laying by the fire, not too far away, but he wondered why she had let Steve go in the first place.

“Huh?” Steve replied, stumbling closer and almost falling on his face if Herobrine hadn’t reached out and caught him. Steve giggled and looked up at him. Even in the darkness of night, Herobrine could clearly see the sight he’d imagined earlier, the one that threatened to break his resolve—Steve’s pupils were dilated, leaving just a slim ring of purple visible, and his face was flushed as he gazed up at Herobrine with nothing short of adoration.

“You caught me,” Steve observed, very smartly. Herobrine huffed but smiled.

“I always will,” he said easily, letting Steve cling to his arms, his shirt, eventually settling his hands on Herobrine’s shoulders. Herobrine, naturally, set his hands on Steve’s hips, glancing over at Alex again. They were far enough away. This might be the only opportunity they got to be alone while Steve was somewhat drunk.

“Ha ha yeah, that’s weird,” Steve responded, patting Herobrine’s shoulders gently, closing his eyes and swaying back and forth with a hum. Herobrine stared down at his flushed face.

“What’s weird?” He asked, slowly walking forward. Steve walked back automatically, until his back hit a tree. He looked behind him, confused, before looking back up at Herobrine.

“Huh?”

Herobrine smiled, amused. “Just how drunk are you?”

“I’m…not drunk,” Steve said matter-of-factly, hiccuping right after. Herobrine nodded, making a faux serious expression.

“Of course not, what was I thinking?”

His amusement faded a bit when Steve dropped his eyes and the hands on his shoulders slid down to his chest, as if to push him away. But Steve just stood there.

“Steve?”

He tried catching Steve’s eye but the man just leaned forward so his face pressed against Herobrine’s chest. He slid his arms around Steve’s back to hug him, unsure why the human was suddenly so down. Did it turn out Steve was a reserved or quiet drunk after all? And here Herobrine had only been thinking about making out.

After a few moments, Steve finally spoke but it was completely muffled by Herobrine’s shirt. Even with his enhanced hearing he struggled to make it out.

“What?” He asked softly, leaning back a bit so Steve wasn’t pressed so close to him. He brought a hand up to curl his fingers under Steve’s chin, lifting his head so he could see Steve’s eyes. His brows were furrowed and he looked unhappy.

“Do you really like me?” Steve repeated quietly, and Herobrine frowned.

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”

Steve refused to meet his gaze, and despite their current intimate closeness, Steve was tense, as if expecting a bad reaction. It made Herobrine curse the circumstances of Steve’s childhood, to make him this wary of asking a simple question—to make him this wary of accepting a genuine relationship to save himself any more pain.

“It’s just…sometimes I wonder if you really are just hanging around me because you want to see the others like you,” Steve admitted, not sounding particularly drunk but still swaying slightly back and forth, despite the rigidity of his posture, as if balance did not come easy to him. But his chosen topic was surprisingly deep for someone who’d just downed half a bottle of mead on an empty stomach. Perhaps the dancing had sobered him somewhat.

This was not a reaction to being drunk that he had anticipated, that Steve would be chatty but about all the insecurities and worries he usually kept hidden until it became too much. He wondered if Steve was even going to remember this conversation, though he truly didn’t seem that drunk.

Herobrine still had his hand tilting Steve’s face up, so he shifted it a bit to cup his face instead, taking the time to think about his next move. He wasn’t used to providing comforting reassurance, though he’d found himself doing that more often than not when it came to Steve. He had lived his human life however and with whoever he wanted, but had not developed a deep connection with anyone until he met Steve. Well, his and the Wither’s connection could be considered deep but Herobrine chose not to count that one.

As such, he didn’t feel he necessarily had the tools in his social repertoire to be able to reasonable silence Steve’s insecurities for good. His fall back was always going to be physical intimacy and hope for the best when it came to emotional upheavals. To his credit, Steve had been placated before by Herobrine’s insistence that he wanted them to be together, though perhaps Steve wasn’t aware of just how much thought Herobrine had on the subject. Hadn’t Herobrine already said he liked Steve? That he couldn’t stand to see Steve hurt? Hadn’t they kissed enough times for Steve to realize Herobrine was serious?

Maybe it really was time to push things a little further.

“Steve…”

At the sound of his name, Steve ducked his head a little, as if embarrassed. He still refused to meet Herobrine’s gaze, and that just wouldn’t do.

“Steve, look at me.”

Reluctantly, almost like it took great effort, or as if he was ashamed, Steve dragged his gaze up. The uncertainty in those eyes, the fear that he was right, that Herobrine was only here because of outside circumstances and not Steve himself—it made Herobrine’s heart ache. In a way it never had for anyone else before.

“If you need me to say ‘I want to be with you’ every day, I will. Because I do. I never lied about anything I told you. I do truly feel better around you, like the horrors of my past are distant memories. And you don’t even have to do anything except be yourself. Do you understand?”

Steve was now looking up at him in awe, with hope etched into his expression. His red cheeks and dilated eyes lessened the effect a bit, but nonetheless got Herobrine’s heart beating harder as he leaned forward and finally pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips.

Steve instantly made a weak sound and slid his arms up to tighten around his neck, opening his mouth to let Herobrine in. He did so gladly, slipping his tongue inside and still tasting hints of that honey sweetness that clung to the inside of Steve’s mouth. He laced his fingers together at Steve’s lower back and pulled, pressing them closer together.

Steve’s breathing was noticeably heavier and his moan of approval was swallowed by Herobrine’s insistent mouth. He didn’t need to break for breath but he knew the human would, so when fingers dug into his back, he finally pulled away, focusing instead on trailing kisses down Steve’s jaw and to his neck. The skin under his mouth was heated, and Steve tilted his head up with a breathy moan and leaned against the tree to allow him better access. He smiled and delighted in the sounds Steve made, pleased they were as enticing as he imagined. Especially when he bit down and was rewarded with a high pitched gasp before pressing a soft kiss to the abused skin in apology.

He pulled back, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control himself. He could feel arousal tingling just beneath his skin, tempting him to go further. He had half a mind to, since simple kisses were clearly too little for Steve to understand the depth of his feelings—it was an ever-growing chasm that sometimes startled even him. There was a time in his life where he’d given up on having this. Now that it was here, tangible and between his hands, something real he could see and touch, he didn’t want to let it go.

He frowned a bit.

“I should be asking you that question,” he said, against his better judgement. This was dipping into vulnerable territory but, all things considered, he’d literally been stabbed not too long ago and there was no lower point in life than that, so, he could bear any embarrassment. Plus, maybe this would help Steve, knowing that he wasn’t the only one with doubts.

“Wha?” Steve blinked open his eyes and looked up at him in confusion, panting for breath through a slightly open, kissed-red mouth. But even the sight wasn’t enough to get Herobrine to drop the subject.

“Do you really like me?” Herobrine clarified.

For a moment Steve seemed utterly baffled by that question. The irony was not lost to Herobrine, that Steve could ask that question but not expect to have to answer it when, between the two of them, Herobrine was more volatile and generally unlikeable. Herobrine had done awful things to humans in the past in a misguided act of revenge, and yet he had the affection of someone who’s smile rivaled the sun, who’s attention made Herobrine feel like he mattered, that he was truly seen beneath his cursed appearance. What could Steve possibly see in him, to want to continue being around him—to actively seek out his company? It was a thought that wormed its way into his brain more with each passing day, disturbing his rest at night and sowing the seeds of doubt. 

“Course I do,” Steve said, though to Herobrine he didn’t sound convincing. Perhaps it was Herobrine’s own spiraling thoughts that made it seem forced, or perhaps Steve’s slight intoxication was to blame, but either way, the words had a tone as if to placate him.

He pulled back more, planting his hands on the tree on either side of Steve’s head and looking him straight in the eye. Steve slowly pulled his arms away and dropped them to his own sides instead. Herobrine briefly mourned the loss, of both the warmth and their moment. Just like always, here Herobrine was, ruining things again.

“Do you even know who I am? Truly? The things I’ve done and the joy I felt when doing them? I am not a good person. A hundred years ago, if we had met, I would not have hesitated doing unspeakable things to you. And you can stand here and honestly tell me that you want to be with someone like that?”

As soon as he said it, he knew he was being unfair, but he felt like if he didn’t speak his mind now he would miss his opportunity and forever hold these doubts inside himself, left to fester until he inevitably exploded and burned Steve in the process. He didn’t want that.

He sighed, suddenly realizing that Steve was probably just drunk enough that this conversation was a bad idea, despite him being the one to instigate it. So he lowered his hands and stepped back even more, putting a foot of distance between them.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that,” he said. He felt…angry. Or, more frustrated at himself as the beginnings of arousal quickly dried up into sour dissatisfaction. Herobrine had hoped to quell Steve’s doubt and anxiety and instead he’d probably just sent them through the roof.

“Wait, that’s not fair,” Steve said, snapping out of his stupor to grab Herobrine’s hand just as he turned to continue collecting more wood. Herobrine pushed down the urge to yank his hand away and instead looked at him, feeling the strange sense of déjà vu wash over him. He remembered Steve grabbing his hand to stop him from leaving, after recovering from the ghast attack, just before he returned home. Had that been the beginning? He had felt conflicted with himself, that he was becoming dependent on someone’s company just to get through his monotonous days. He realized that disbelief he’d felt all that time ago was still here—disbelief that Steve would take his hand and prevent him from leaving.

“I don’t know if I would be with someone like that. But you’re not like that anymore. Just because you can kill doesn’t mean you will again. I…I can understand why you did it. You had a good reason to be angry. But I don’t know that side of you. I only know the side that I can be with and not feel like my company is unwanted, that I can talk with and joke with and laugh with. You never tried to attack me, when we first met. You helped me. When I was hurt you offered assistance even though it probably bothered you.” Steve trailed off with a sad smile, casting his gaze down. “I should be the one saying sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate I doubt you or your feelings, I just doubt…my reality, I guess. That I’m trapped in a dream and when I wake up I’ll lose you.” Steve squeezed his hand as he looked back up, still with that sad smile.

Herobrine stared back, unsure what to say. His throat felt tight, choked up with too many emotions. He didn’t know why Steve’s words affected him so much.

“I…I tried, with you. To be…nice,” he eventually said. Steve’s smile lost its edge of sadness to turn more genuine as he stepped forward to close the distance between them and wrap his arms around Herobrine’s back in a hug, laying his head against his chest. Herobrine in turn wrapped his arms around Steve and returned the hug, resting his chin on the top of Steve’s head.

“I’m glad,” Steve whispered, tightening his arms. Herobrine took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing his doubts away. In a way they were both incredibly lucky to have the other. Emotionally fucked as they may be, they both had exactly what the other needed.

Herobrine closed his eyes and relished in the feeling of having someone close, before he leaned away. But instead of separating, when Steve looked up, Herobrine leaned forward again and kissed him. He put his all into the kiss, trying to convey everything he was too afraid to say outright. Don’t leave me. I can’t bear to lose you. I love you.

Face flushing and heart pounding at his own thoughts, he pulled away. Steve slowly opened his eyes and smiled up at him. His face was still flushed but not as much as before, and his eyes were clear if a little tired as they gazed up at him. Herobrine was sad their impromptu make out session had devolved into a deep conversation that had sobered Steve up even more, but it was what it was. Herobrine just looked forward to the next time he was able to get Steve drunk, when they could be alone and not have to worry about anything but each other.

“I really didn’t mean to ruin the mood,” Steve said, as they finally separated fully and Herobrine was able to tear off the tree branch he’d originally come out here for. Almost as a second thought he looked over to where their camp was and though he could still see the glow of the fire, it was much dimmer than it ought to be. Damn, Alex was definitely going to say something.

“It was probably for the best,” Herobrine said, tucking the branch beneath his arm and holding his other hand out for Steve. He took it happily and they walked back towards the camp. “I was debating whether I should lay you out and have my way with you or not.” He looked over with wink, chuckling at the renewed redness on Steve’s cheeks.

“You mean take advantage of me when I’m drunk? How could you,” Steve retorted playfully.

“I didn’t see you minding all that much when I had my tongue in your mouth.”

Steve ducked his head a bit, probably embarrassed due to his inexperience. But the way he touched his fingers to his smiling lips made Herobrine want to abandon the fire and Alex and retreat back into the forest to do all the naughty things he’d been thinking about earlier.

“I didn’t mind at all,” Steve admitted.

“Good, because there’s going to be a lot more of that,” Herobrine promised. Steve smiled up at him shyly but squeezed his hand.

When they made it back to Alex, she was propped up against the sheer wall, a knowing smirk on her face. Steve sat down across from her, his face a brighter red when she wagged her brows at him. Herobrine just ignored her and broke the large branch down, throwing more on the fire to get it going again. When he was satisfied he sat next to Steve, still ignoring her gaze.

“So did you—“

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

She just chuckled to herself before slipping into her bedroll and bidding them goodnight. When Steve’s eyes stayed closed longer every blink and he started nodding off, Herobrine laid out the bedroll and slid inside, back to the fire, before gesturing for Steve to come closer. He did so with a tired smile and joined him, pressing his face into Herobrine’s chest once they were both settled. Herobrine wrapped his arms around Steve’s back and relaxed, closing his eyes to rest.

He didn’t actually sleep, but he enjoyed the quiet intimacy as Steve breathed evenly next to him. By the time the sun started to rise, and the fire had died down to smoldering embers, Herobrine felt better about where he and Steve where at, in regards to their relationship. He smiled to himself. What a strange thought. Relationship. Something he’d given up hope for and now it was here, sleeping peacefully right next to him.

Unfortunately it couldn’t last, no matter how hard Herobrine wished. After waiting until the sun was properly in the sky and still not hearing a change to his breathing, he had to shake Steve awake, smiling when those purple eyes opened blearily and focused on him.

“Good morning,” Herobrine said quietly in case Alex was still sleeping. He couldn’t see her, as his back was to her, but he hadn’t noticed the sound of her breathing or heart rate change either, so she was probably still asleep. “How do you feel?”

Steve groaned and stretched, wincing. “My head hurts.”

“I would be surprised if it didn’t. Even though I don’t think the mead was that strong, it still seemed to affect you a good amount.” He rubbed his hand soothingly over Steve’s back.

“I don’t think I like alcohol if this is what the next morning feels like,” Steve complained, closing his eyes and relaxing. But Herobrine shook his head in amusement and retracted his arms from around Steve as he started sliding out of the bedroll.

Steve moved to the center of it once Herobrine was out, and he just shook his head again, bemused.

Alex woke not long after that, and got out some of the food the farmers had given her. Slabs of pork and some eggs, along with two more water bottles, one of which she tossed to Herobrine, who caught it easily before handing it down to Steve. Once he saw it, he was like a man possessed as he grabbed it and downed the whole thing at once.

Herobrine found a large and relatively flat, thin rock and started heating up breakfast as Alex fixed her hair and put her normal clothes back on. Steve, meanwhile, still laid face down in the bedroll, bemoaning his aching head.

“So, besides the obvious, did you like it?” Alex asked, as they waited for the food to be done. Steve mumbled something that was heavily muffled by the bedroll, but Herobrine was able to decipher it this time.

“He said it went better than he expected,” Herobrine translated. Alex smiled and leaned back against the rock face, hands behind her head and one leg crossed over the other at the knee. She moved her foot back and forth, bouncing her leg to some secret beat, the epitome of casual relaxation.

“I would say the same, but it was only mead. When we get to a proper town I’ll get us some of that good shit. With your intolerance you’ll be blackout drunk in no time and probably do a bunch of embarrassing things you won’t remember.” She sighed happily, dreamy smile on her face. “Oh I miss those times.”

Steve finally sat up, and he looked a little queasy. His face was pinched as he stared at Alex in disbelief. “Ugh, just hearing that is enough to make me want to throw up. If this is what the aftermath is like, I don’t ever want to drink again.” To his credit he looked miserable, but Herobrine knew that it would get easier over time and Alex seemed to as well as she responded.

“Trust me, it gets easier. Right?” She looked at him at the end, and he chimed in.

“She’s right, even though it pains me to say it.” He smiled as she stuck her tongue out at him. “The more you drink, the more you can drink before you pass out or become so drunk you can’t remember what you did.”

Steve frowned. “Does the…hangover get any easier?”

He and Alex both shook their heads and Steve groaned in dismay, bringing his knees up and burying his face in them. “This sucks.”

“It’ll go away soon. I don’t think you were drunk enough to make it last a super long time. Plus, we have some time we can kill. We don’t have to make it to the edge of the taiga until sundown anyway.”

“Thank the Gods for small mercies,” Steve mumbled.

Before long the food was ready. Alex scarfed hers down while Steve took one bite and was almost sick then and there. But considering he hadn’t eaten since lunch of the previous day, Herobrine coaxed him to at least eat all the eggs and nearly half of the pork. Alex happily accepted the remaining half when Steve refused to eat any more. Regardless, Herobrine was satisfied.

Once the sun reached midday, they decided to move along. Might as well reach the border between biomes with plenty of daylight to spare. Alex mentioned that, even though they would be camping in the forest biome they were currently in, it would be a little colder than last night had been. Herobrine didn’t like the thought of that in the slightest so he wanted to build a larger fire, maybe even a bonfire, to last the whole night. Either that or he’d have to stay outside the bedroll to be able to keep stacking wood on the fire to keep it going and that meant he couldn’t share Steve’s body heat so that idea was out. He’d much rather risk the fire dwindling down than give up sharing the bedroll with Steve.

They packed up, Alex and Steve reequipped their armor, and the three of them were off. As they walked, Herobrine kept an eye on Steve, but either his headache was distracting enough or he truly felt better as he didn’t look over his shoulder once. He didn’t appear worried someone was chasing him or out to get him. He glanced over plenty of times, smiling when he caught Herobrine staring at him, but otherwise just kept his attention ahead of them. Though, some of the time they walked with their fingers laced, sometimes Steve hooked his arm around Herobrine’s as they walked, and sometimes they didn’t touch save for the brief brush of their shoulders, they were so close together. Lost in their own thoughts but naturally gravitating towards each other.

They reached the border between the forest and the taiga with about an hour of daylight left, and Steve spotted the perfect place they could set up. There was an unusual collection of five trees in a row, growing so close together that in some places, a hand couldn’t even fit between them. A natural wall when the surrounding environment was otherwise flat. It would help them stay warm if the night chill was stronger than they were expecting. It wasn’t supposed to be as cold that night, but Herobrine didn’t want to take any chances. He started digging a good sized pit, about five feet in diameter and two deep. Already he could tell it was colder—there was a breeze that swept past him every half hour or so and it promised biting winds and icy temperatures. He’d never been more displeased that he couldn’t just teleport them to the village they were heading towards. Or just over long distances. How much easier would their trip have been? Definitely shorter. Of course Steve had to have that weird bug somewhere in his system that prevented Herobrine from teleporting them. Of course. It made him wonder when the hell Buddy was going to recover and find them. Surely it’d been enough time, and Buddy always seemed to know where Steve was. The enderman needed to hurry up.

A hand touched his arm and he looked up, realizing he’d been staring blankly into the pit. He looked over and saw Steve.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked, and Herobrine shook his head.

“Just thinking about when Buddy’s going to get back. If we could teleport, we’d probably already be at my village by now.”

Steve’s face fell a bit but not nearly as much as the previous times they’d brought Buddy up. “I hope it’s doing okay.”

Herobrine pulled Steve into a quick hug and kissed his temple. “I’m sure it’s already healed and looking for us.”

Steve sighed, but returned the hug.

Herobrine gathered as much wood as he thought the bonfire would need to last until morning, as he decided to be selfish and steal Steve’s body heat for his own. Plus, Alex reminded him that they needed to get up early in order to make it to the village before sundown, or they’d have to travel or worse, sleep at night in the frigid biome. Herobrine refused to let that happen, and if he had to carry both his human companions to get them to hurry up then by the Gods, he would.

As the sun lowered over the course of the hour, the chill that Herobrine had only felt so often became more and more prevalent, until it was practically wrapped around his shoulders. If he stopped moving, his body would start shivering against his will. So he hurried to light the fire, throwing all the wood he’d collected into the pit and lighting it. It took a good couple minutes for the wood to catch, but once it did, the heat that radiated from the bonfire was like a soothing balm. Though, it must have been too much for Steve and Alex as they scooted back a bit, whereas Herobrine was trying to refrain from just sitting inside the fire.

Dinner was a quick affair, a mixture of bread, meat, and fruits and vegetables from Alex’s pack. Herobrine was happy to see that Steve’s hangover had gone away, as had his nausea as he ate everything handed to him.

“We should probably just go to sleep now,” Alex said, looking at Steve. He nodded.

“Fine with me.”

“Good.” She looked at Herobrine. “Wake us when the sky starts to lighten noticeably. It’s gonna suck, and it’s gonna be a little cold when we enter the taiga, but it’s gonna be worth it when we make it to the village before nightfall.”

“Got it.”

“Perfect. Then I’ll see you boys in the morning.”

Unlike the previous nights they’d been together, Alex and Steve’s bedrolls were only a few feet apart, situated between the row of trees and the bonfire for maximum warmth. Not that anything was going to happen, of course, but still, it irked Herobrine for some reason. Maybe because she was so close, but it wasn’t like he and Steve were going to talk at all. Or do anything that would be loud enough for her to hear, with how close she was. Or maybe it was because of the fact she was so close prevented them from doing anything if they’d wanted to. They weren’t going to but now they couldn’t.

He knew his thoughts were dumb but he couldn’t help it, and settled into the bedroll with a frown. Steve snuggled close to him and smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“Why are you pouting?” He asked, hint of amusement in his tone.

“I’m not pouting,” Herobrine said automatically, and Steve just closed his eyes and nodded.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say.”

Herobrine huffed at the sarcastic tone and Steve chuckled before quieting down. Absentmindedly, Herobrine rubbed his hand over Steve’s back, listening to his breathing and heart rate slow as he fell asleep.

Much like the previous night, Herobrine rested his eyes but kept alert in case anything happened. It was strange, how easy it was to forget that there were people after them, people with unknown goals and powers that matched his. With just Alex and Steve as company from day to day, it was easy to fall into the mindset that they were just three friends—and he used the term loosely in regards to Alex—that were spending time together. It made him ache for a simpler time. He wanted nothing more than to whisk Steve away from all the trouble they’d been dealing with and build a house somewhere warm. He just wanted to live his life without needing to watch his back and he was sure Steve felt the same way.

He sighed quietly. Maybe some day.

Eventually the sky started to lighten as dawn approached, and Herobrine woke up the humans as he’d been instructed. Strangely enough, Steve seemed to snap awake, up and packed and adorned in his armor before Alex even attempted putting hers on. She looked extremely unhappy but it was her idea in the first place. Didn’t stop her from grumbling as she finished putting her armor on.

Neither of them were hungry yet, so they started on their way with haste. Alex had the map out to make sure they took as direct a path as they could. Steve walked with a pep in his step, oddly upbeat on this random morning. Herobrine was okay with it, as Steve seemed to have forgotten all about whatever strange force was disturbing him. Or, at the very least, if something had been there, it was gone now.

Herobrine was dismayed to leave the fire behind, but after stomping it down to a smoldering pile of embers, the immediate rush of cold air made him full-body shudder. The air felt extra crisp in the morning, doubly so when they crossed into the taiga proper. He pulled Steve’s cloak tighter around him and daydreamed about lava while they walked. The only good things about the Nether that he actually missed? Its oppressive heat and warped forests. He hoped to see it again one day.

Luckily it got a little warmer, once the sun was high above them. Herobrine was able to ignore the chill a bit and enjoy taking in the sight of the biome.

He did remember being in the taiga they’d passed through, when he saw the fox for the first time, but it had been during the overcast weather so he hadn’t noticed a change in temperature, just that it was much too cold for him.

It was strange seeing spruce trees so bare. He was used to seeing them covered in white, powdery snow, the ground similarly layered in it. Even when he’d been human, he’d disliked colder biomes. It wasn’t as cold as it used to be though, since there was no snow. Still, if last night was any indication, he wouldn’t want to be caught out at night.

He could see more foxes, as they walked. The little orange mobs scurried a good distance away, making strange chattering noises. He’d yet to see any wolves, which disappointed him a bit. He was pretty sure wolves had been the most prevalent ‘pet’ mob, right alongside horses. Could foxes be pets? They were smaller than wolves, and seemed immeasurably more skittish. Didn’t seem like good candidates to him.

So far he’d only seen a little of what differences the Overworld had than from what he vaguely remembered, like the fact that snow didn’t appear in taiga biomes anymore and entirely new mobs roamed freely. It made him curious to see what else was new. Were there new biomes he’d never even heard of? How many more mobs existed that he was unaware of?

A strange feeling of regret washed over him. He’d thrown his life away for nothing and the Overworld had continued on without him. Now that he was back, he wanted to explore everything he could and learn all about the new aspects he didn’t understand. Before he hadn’t really cared for the Overworld—now he’d never take its beauty for granted again.

So lost in his thoughts, he accidentally brushed past something that caught his jeans. He looked down when he felt the tug and stopped, staring at the strange, red-dotted bush in curiosity.

“What is this?” He decided to ask. He was with two humans who knew the Overworld, perhaps better than most, so he might as well ask.

Both of them stopped and looked back at him. Alex was several feet ahead of them, but Steve was only about a foot away.

“That’s a sweet berry bush,” Steve answered. He stepped up next to Herobrine and picked one of the red berries, holding it out. “I’m guessing you’ve never tried it before?”

Herobrine shook his head and picked the berry out of Steve’s fingers, inspecting it. The smooth red surface wasn’t off-putting, but didn’t seem particularly enticing to Herobrine either. Kinda reminded him of an apple.

“It’s good, I promise,” Steve said. He plucked another berry from the bush and popped it into his own mouth, chewing with a smile. “See?”

Making a face of doubt, Herobrine nonetheless followed suit, though much more tentatively. It was…surprising. Not bad, but not as sweet as the name might suggest.  It almost tasted…incomplete, as insane as that sounded.

“It is…certainly different than other foods I’ve tasted,” he offered as judgement. Alex came up to them and knelt, starting to pick several of the berries.

“That’s because they really only have three uses, and eating them for the sake of eating them is not one of them. Either you’re desperate for food and come across some, you want to befriend foxes, or you want to enhance your food.” She slung her pack around and pulled out the bundle where she kept the fruits, adding the berries to it before slinging her bag onto her back again and standing. Though mildly interested in what ‘enhance your food’ could mean, he was more curious about the fox part.

“You use these to befriend foxes?”

She nodded, gesturing to the side. He looked over to see a trio of foxes staring at them, much closer than they’d been before. “Yep. Little guys love them. Here, watch. Kneel down.”

He obeyed, too intrigued to question her, and she picked more berries before instructing him to hold his hand out, palm up. Once he did so, she placed the berries down and lowered his hand until it rested against the grass. Then she backed away, dragging Steve with her.

The farther they got, the closer one of the foxes came, cautiously sniffing at the air and the ground for threats. But with Herobrine kneeling as still as a statue, the fox decided it was safe enough to approach. It took a moment to smell his hand before finding the berries and starting to eat them, tail wagging vigorously in joy. Once it was done it nudged his palm with its nose, then slid the side of its face against his hand. He took that as his cue to pet it, and it tolerated for a few good moments before skittering off to join its friends, now that the promise of food no longer enticed it.

“Do that enough times and you’ll never get them to leave you alone,” Alex said, as she and Steve walked back over to him.

“I’m surprised a mob that appears so scared normally could be convinced that easily,” he said, standing back up. Definitely different than a wolf, but perhaps not as bad as he’d thought. Maybe they had their uses. They were certainly cute.

“Well, trying doing that with an ocelot,” Alex remarked, turning around and starting to walk again. Herobrine stood, and he and Steve followed after her. “If you’re looking for a challenge, that’s it.”

Herobrine thought he might remember what an ocelot was—the name was familiar, at any rate. He’d ask Steve about it later.

The walk through the taiga was relatively boring from then on. They stopped around midday for just a moment to take a quick break and eat. Alex found an apple and showed Herobrine one of the other uses for the sweet berries. The first bite of the apple revealed it wasn’t ripe enough, a distractingly sour taste to it, but when he ate the sweet berry and took another bite—after Steve had to chime in that she wasn’t just trying to make him look foolish, trust him—it was almost like he wasn’t even eating an apple. It was so deliciously sweet he had to pull the apple away just to make sure it really was an apple. His face must have reflected his shock because Alex had laughed and Steve had a smile on his face.

The rest of the day went by without incident, and much faster as they started chatting. Alex made an offhanded comment that got Herobrine to start joking about her ‘totally real girlfriend’ again, much to her annoyance. He even got Steve to join in, teaming up against her. She pouted and warned them that they were about to enter a village so if they wanted her help they’d better be nice to her. It was obvious she was bluffing so Herobrine relented in a sarcastic manner, winking at Steve as he did, and ultimately let the subject go for now.

Before long, they reached the village just before nightfall, the shade of night already descending around them. The glow from the lanterns shown brightly through the trees as they discussed their plan to enter.

“Just keep your heads down and let me do the talking,” Alex said, tugging the hood of Herobrine’s cloak up. “There’s nothing we can do about your eyes,” she told him, but to Steve she said, “But since it’s night, you might get away with some eye contact if you make it brief.”

“Good to know,” he said, sounding supremely unhappy. Herobrine narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the village. Just let anyone try something, he’d string them up by their toes if they dared.

Alex nodded, satisfied, and took point as they approached the village. Even despite the uncertainty of what they were doing, Herobrine was still awed by the sheer size of it. Not just one short road with some buildings on either side, but multiple roads absolutely lined with all sorts of buildings. Houses, shops, and the inn, the largest building around. It was four stories high and nearly as long as three houses put together. Other than a Nether fortress, Herobrine had never seen such a large building. He wondered how common they were nowadays. The village by Steve’s old house had been large as well. It was mind-boggling.

Despite the size of the village, there was only one guard at the gate, and he just nodded to them as they passed. He and Alex exchanged pleasantries briefly before they moved on, making a beeline to the inn.

As soon as the door opened and they entered the lobby, and that soothing, heated air rushed over them, Herobrine could have dropped to his knees and thanked the Gods for the blessing. It perhaps wasn’t as hot as he preferred, but it was way better than outside, so he’d take it.

“Wait here,” Alex said, pointing at the padded benches along the wall. Steve took his hand and walked them over, sitting down and tugging Herobrine down next to him. Alex walked up to the receptionist.

“Hello and welcome. How may I help you?”

“Hi, I’d like to book two rooms please,” Alex said quietly, but Herobrine heard it. He furrowed his brows and looked over at her. He couldn’t see what she was doing, but he heard the clink of something small and metallic being placed on the counter. The receptionist nodded politely and retrieved two room keys.

“Of course, here you are. Your rooms are on the top floor, to the left once you climb the stairs. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” Alex said, and turned to them. Herobrine had already looked down, pretending he hadn’t caught that strange interaction. No details about how long they were staying? Nothing about price? Interesting. And suspicious.

“Come on boys,” she said, gesturing for them to follow her. Herobrine kept his head down until they reached the stairwell.

“So how long do you think we’ll be staying here?” He asked casually. “Because I vote for as long as possible.”

Alex chuckled. “Can’t blame you on that. It’s going to be nice having a shower and a bed readily available. But I don’t know. Depends on how long it takes me to find information about your village, if there even is any. It’s not a guarantee after all, just our best bet. This is easily the largest village in the area, so the library is fairly extensive. Knowing your village was near the Great Desert will help, but a lot of villages could have been around there over the last 200 years, so we’ll see.” They reached the top of the stairs and Alex turned left, looking at the keys to find their rooms. She stopped in front of the room labeled ‘36’ and handed Steve a key labeled ‘37.’

“Anyway, I don’t know about you two, but I’m going to take a long-ass shower and then crash for like twelve hours.” She opened the door but paused, fixing them with a smirk and a wag of her brows. “Don’t keep me up with any sounds you two make, got it?”

Steve groaned in embarrassment and face-palmed, while Herobrine just smiled meanly back at her.

“Well now that you’ve said that, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve said, opening their door and taking his hand to drag him inside. “Goodnight Alex.”

“Goodnight boys.”

As Steve closed and locked the door, Herobrine looked around the room. Not bad, in fact, much better than he’d been expecting. Nice large bed to his right, little sitting area with a vanity in front of him, and a small kitchen and the bathroom to his left. A comfortable room he could get used to staying in.

“Wow, it’s a lot bigger than I’d thought it’d be,” Steve commented, walking over to the vanity and depositing his pack onto one of the chairs. Herobrine lowered his hood and waited for Steve to look at him before he raised his brows and smirked. Steve’s face flushed as he realized what he said.

“Oh, grow up,” he said, small smile tugging at his lips. Herobrine shrugged, like he couldn’t help himself.

“You just make it too easy.”

“You can’t just take the high road and not say anything?”

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Herobrine said as he walked up to Steve and set his hands on his hips, delighting when Steve smiled up at him and wrapped arms around his neck. “Plus, technically I didn’t say anything.”

Steve shook his head. “You’re impossible,” he said fondly, pulling Herobrine down a bit so they could kiss. He was tempted to take it a little further, now that they’d properly made out, but the prospect of a hot shower and an actual bed was too strong to ignore any longer. They could pick up from where they left off two nights ago later.

So he pulled back. “Why don’t you take a shower first,” he suggested. “If I do it, I’ll probably use all the hot water, because you know I’m going to turn it up all the way.”

“Gods, living with you is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?” Steve said with a laugh, so casual as he entered the bathroom. It put the biggest, dumbest smile on Herobrine’s face when he thought about. Someday they were going to live together. He couldn’t wait.

Just as the shower started up, there was a knock on the door. Herobrine went over and when he saw it was Alex, he opened it.

“I’m going to go deposit my clothes for cleaning, thought I’d take yours too.”

“How kind of you,” Herobrine commented, leaving the door open as he walked over to rifle through Steve’s pack and pull out any and all articles of clothing he found. He dumped them in the bag she held open.

“You don’t want yours cleaned?”

He raised a brow. “You want me to strip naked? I can—I’m very comfortable in the nude, I’ll have you know.”

She smiled, a little too sweetly as she closed the bag and tossed it over her shoulder, answering his question.

“Really? I was convinced that with all your bravado you probably had the smallest penis known to man. You know, to compensate? Good for you though.”

He barked out a laugh and leaned against he door frame. “I’d offer to show you, but I’m a taken man now, so, sorry honey.”

She snorted in amusement and shook her head as she walked away. Herobrine shut the door with a grin and locked it again.

While he waited for Steve to be done in the bathroom, he removed the cloak and hung it on the back of the front door, then laid down on the bed, closing his eyes and sighing in relief as the plush comforter welcomed him. Oh yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

He missed when the shower shut off, and only opened his eyes when a weight settled on the bed next to him. Steve had only a towel wrapped around his hips, hair damp and dripping small droplets onto his shoulders and down his bare chest. His skin was slightly pinked, probably from having the water temperature turned up. There was a soft smile on his face, and he looked so beautiful Herobrine could only stare up at him in stunned silence, throat suddenly dry.

Without a word, Steve leaned down and kissed him, cupping his cheek with a warm hand. His heart skipped a beat and he reached up, touching Steve wherever he could—arm, shoulder, waist. The gentle, slow pace of the kiss was almost too much for him. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to having someone who wanted to be close to him, who wanted to hold his hand and kiss him like this.

When Steve pulled away, Herobrine almost stopped him—almost dragged him down onto the bed, eager to press close between his legs and drag his mouth along every inch of exposed skin available to him. But he restrained and let Steve get up. Maybe he should take a cold shower instead.

“Where are my clothes?” Steve asked, as Herobrine got up and headed toward the bathroom.

“Alex came by and collected them, said she was gonna have them washed.” He paused just inside the doorway, turning to leer. “Guess you’ll just have to make do with the towel. Or you can walk around naked, I won’t mind.” He winked and Steve huffed with a smile, sitting on one of the chairs and crossing his arms. A blush spread across his cheeks.

“How convenient,” he commented. Herobrine chuckled as he entered the bathroom and shut the door.

He stripped out of his clothes, nearly ripping the shirt in the process with how small it was, and looked at himself in the mirror as he removed the bandage around his side. It had been feeling better, practically good as new, and when he fully removed the bandage, the only evidence of his stab wound was a thin scar, on both his front and back. Just another added to his collection. Unlike the scar across his face, which looked years old despite having happened only about a week, week and half ago, the one on his side looked new, shiny and pale against his darker skin. He still got mad when he thought about it, and worried briefly about what could have prevented him from healing.

But he was fine now, so he pushed the thoughts away. They were safe for the time being. Herobrine didn’t think whoever they were, they’d choose to attack now, when the three of them were in a village. He still tried to keep his guard up, but he had high hopes they could just relax.

Just like he’d said he would, he turned the water up all the way and stepped under the spray. The intense heat was a welcome comfort, and he took his time washing until the water started to run cold. Reluctantly he shut it off and stepped out, grabbing one towel off the rack to wrap around his hips and another, smaller one to scrub his hair, then let the towel hang around his neck as he exited the bathroom.

It must have been a long shower, as when he walked out, Steve was on the bed in his pajamas. Damn. Herobrine had thought of ways to “accidentally” tug his towel off.

“I thought I was going to have to go in there and check if you were still alive,” Steve joked. He was under the covers with a book on his lap. Herobrine recognized it as one of the books he’d said Alex had gotten him before they’d started their adventure.

“Just an excuse to see me naked I’m sure,” Herobrine said. Just like Steve had, he sat on the edge of the bed, but he took it further by leaning over Steve, supporting himself with his arm on Steve’s other side as he smiled suavely. “You know, you could just ask,” he purred.

Steve’s face was red as he blushed deeply. Herobrine could easily see his eyes trail down, but then his brows suddenly furrowed.

“Your side is healed,” he said, sitting up a bit to lean forward and touch along the scar.

Herobrine looked down as well, leaning away. “Yep. Good as new.”

“That’s a relief,” Steve said. He patted Herobrine’s side gently before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. Herobrine closed his eyes and sighed into it. Steve had dropped his hand to the bed and Herobrine laid his hand over it, curling his fingers around Steve’s.

He was tempted, always so tempted, to lick across Steve’s lips, to ask for entrance, to take things a little further. But despite his level of comfort doing just that, he didn’t know if it was just the alcohol that had made Steve so receptive during that night or if Steve was truly ready to take that step. Either way, he wanted to talk about it first, like couples did. He shuddered at the thought and Steve smiled against his lips before drawing away with a happy sigh.

“I think I’m becoming addicted to that”, he admitted, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. Herobrine needed to stop now if he really wanted to wait because otherwise he was going to be do something rash.

“Of course you are, it’s me we’re talking about,” he said, getting up despite his mind yelling at him to pin Steve to the bed.

“Gee, how’d I know that you were going to say something like that?” Steve chuckled, settling back into the bed.

“That just means you know it’s true,” he responded with a wink. Steve rolled his eyes.

“Sure it does. Oh, hey, by the way, Alex dropped off some clothes for you, since mine don’t fit right. Nothing fancy but, she said it was better than nothing. Also, that you can’t say she never did anything for you.”

He snorted at that, walking over to said clothes and picking them up. A set of plain, gray pajamas, a pair of jeans, and a light pink shirt. He held up the shirt and made a face. “Real cute.”

“I thought it was pretty funny,” Steve commented.

“Whatever, little does she know I will own this look so hard she’s going to regret trying to pull one over on me. I also might just have to ‘accidentally’ light some of her things on fire.”

“Maybe it was the only color available?” Steve asked, and Herobrine shot him an incredulous look.

“Come on, you know her. She did it on purpose.” He set the shirt down and grabbed the pajamas before walking to the bathroom. After changing, he flicked off the lantern in the bathroom and the main room, then walked over to the bed, collapsing face first with a groan. He wasn’t tired per say, but his body appreciated being able to lay on something cushiony for once.

“You think I’d be able to get away teleporting this bed with us for the rest of our adventure?” He asked, muffled into the comforter. It wasn’t even really rhetorical because he would, just watch him.

“Probably not, though I’m tempted to let you try. I’ll readily admit it’s a million times better than sleeping on the ground.” A hand softly patted his shoulder. “Though you make a good pillow.”

“Well now it’s your turn,” he commented. Shuffling around until he was under the covers, he wrapped his arms around Steve’s back and shoved his face against his chest. Steve returned the hug, winding his arms around Herobrine’s shoulders and twining their legs together. Steve yawned before his body started to relax. Herobrine peaked up to see his eyes were closed and there was a small smile on his face.

Swallowing down the lump of emotion blocking his throat, he closed his eyes and held on a little tighter.

On the other side of the wall, as the sound of the two boys talking faded, Alex paused in writing her letter, and frowned.

Chapter Text

Steve stood in front of the window in their room, overlooking the village and the taiga forest beyond. He could see the people going about their daily lives, ignorant to any troubles or threats. They existed in a bubble, believing themselves separate from the rest of the world and safe from the horrors that existed within. He envied them. What was it like, to live so carefree? To have a stable living condition and to know that each day was another new adventure, and not something lucky to see? Steve could only imagine, nowadays.

Distantly, a bell started ringing. Steve kept his eyes on the street outside as the bell got louder and louder until it sounded like it was in the room with him, and then below, through the brush of the taiga burst forth a ravager and a raiding party of Illagers.

Yet there was no reaction. They stampeded through the street below the window, passing by the unaffected villagers who continued walking, shopping, laughing. The Illager captain lifted his torch and held it up to the buildings as he passed on the ravager, prompting his followers to do the same. The wood ignited instantly and a raging inferno consumed the buildings and the people below, though they did not scream nor react in any way.

Steve’s heart was pounding hard in his chest at the gruesome sight, as flesh charred and melted off bone, as buildings splintered and collapsed. Yet the people acted as if nothing was amiss.

The fire reached high into the sky, red flames licking over the window. His vision was obscured by bright, dancing orange fire, and dirty, ashy smoke. He could feel the heat stabbing into his skin, feel the smoke stick to the inside of his throat and lungs. Distantly, screams and cries for help rang in his ears, echoes of the past as the villagers below, little more than scorched bones, continued living through the impossible.

Hands clamped around the tops of his arms, squeezing hard enough it made nausea roil in his stomach. Loss of blood flow sent tingles through the nerves in his forearms and hands.

The presence behind him leaned forward, chills raising the hair on his arms and the back of his neck as hot breath fanned over his ear.

”Do you think about them often?” The voice said. Steve felt he might recognize it, if not for the increasing volume of screams ringing in his ears.

He blinked and found himself suddenly on the ground outside, standing in the midst of the inferno. Flames danced and writhed around him, the memory of their heat searing at his flesh. He was breathing heavily, throat dry and scratchy as smoke wafted around the village, a thick miasma of death and destruction.

”Do you remember their screams?” The familiar voice said again, words soft and quiet but perfectly audible to him. He shuddered hard, and the hands on his arms tightened.

”Do you agonize over their deaths? And how you did nothing to help them?”

He swallowed thickly, closing his eyes but the images of his parent’s dead bodies and anguished expressions would be forever seared into his memory.

“I couldn’t do anything,” he retorted softly. It was something he’d told himself a lot, back then, warring with guilt over the event that had changed his life forever. “It wasn’t my fault.” Still, the words sounded weak to his own ears. The death of his parents combined with his strangely colored eyes painted a pretty clear picture for him—it was his fault, just for being born. His heart lurched at the thought. He wanted to believe otherwise but it was hard, sometimes.

”I can tell you don’t believe that,” the voice purred. The grip on his arms finally lightened up. They throbbed as blood rushed back into his hands and fingers, and those hands instead rubbed gently up and down his arms, a mockery of comfort. ”I even tried to help you and still you doubt yourself.”

A spike of indignant anger shot through him. “You’re not him. He would never say things like this.”

The voice chuckled, breath still so close to the back of his neck. The presence behind him felt immense, despite the familiarity of Herobrine’s voice, but he knew it wasn’t him. Herobrine was trying to help him get over this problem of blame and guilt he held over pretty much every negative event in his life. So he wanted to be strong and not fall into the trap he was pretty sure the Wither was trying to trick him into.

”Can you be sure of that?” Herobrine’s voice said. Even with how unsettling it was to hear Herobrine say these things, he was glad the ominous presence was behind him.

He felt the presence lean forward over his shoulder. He refused to look, squeezing his eyes shut harder.

”You don’t truly know him, do you? He could be deceiving you. All this time, playing with your feels, lulling you into a false sense of security.”

It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real. He repeated that to himself, trying to block out the false words. Or, the words he secretly prayed were false. He didn’t ask the Gods for much anymore, but for that he did. If Herobrine…if he wasn’t really…

He couldn’t even finish the thought without feeling sick to his stomach.

“There’s no reason for him to do that,” he pointed out, trying to put conviction behind the words. But he knew, with all his heart, that he was right.

There was silence from the voice for a few moments, before he felt it sigh quietly. The memory of heat and choking smoke faded away, pervasive cold sweeping in to take its place. He shivered, more so when the presence wrapped its arms around his shoulders, as if hugging him. He could feel the weight of its arms, but there was no body at his back, just that great, terrible presence behind him.

”You are naïve.” The cold constricted his lungs, numbed his body and weakened his grasp on the dream. He could feel his mind struggling to wake, held down only by the Wither’s presence.

”I look forward to seeing it destroy you.” The voice faded as his mind was freed from slumber, snapping back to reality.

He opened his eyes in panic, heart in his throat as he tried to get a grip on reality. He was in bed, on his side facing Herobrine. At some point the man had truly fallen asleep and turned onto his back, one arm above his head, the other slung across his stomach. His face looked so peaceful in sleep, so…human. Steve reached forward but stopped before he could touch Herobrine’s arm and wake him. A wave of shame and guilt crashed over him and made his insides twist. He curled his shaking hand into a fist and pulled it back to his chest. He wanted comfort, after his nightmare, especially after the Wither had used Herobrine’s voice against him, but Herobrine was asleep for once and looked so untroubled that Steve didn’t want to wake him. He didn’t want to mar that relaxed expression with concern, and all for what anyway, because he’d had a bad dream? It could wait until morning.

Steve took a quiet, deep breath and rolled over. The curtain was drawn over the window, but it was easy to see it was the middle of the night, or perhaps early morning. There was no sound in the room, save for his own heart beating in his ears.

He settled on his side and wrapped his arms around himself, hoping a dreamless sleep found him.

He was not so lucky—time crawled by, him an unfortunate witness to it as sleep evaded him. By the time the sun rose and painted the curtain a soothing orange as it blocked the rays, his eyes felt heavy. Yet every time he closed them, sleep would not come. Perhaps it was a silent blessing—if he didn’t sleep, he didn’t dream.

After a while he decided to give up on sleep and get up to start the day early. He told himself it was because he had to use the restroom and wasn’t in denial about his inability to sleep and what might have caused it. Just a one-off, he was sure. Tonight, everything would be as normal. What irony that he had sleep troubles during the first night he had a real bed available to him.

He sighed as he walked into the bathroom. He eyed the shower, thinking about warm water cascading over him, but ultimately decided against it. It might wake him up more, and he was half-hoping to pass out at some point today, to make up for his lack of sleep.

After he was done with his morning business, he stood in front of the sink and reached forward, holding his hands under the warming spray. He blinked sleepily, eyelids heavy. The thought of sleep was heavenly, but he’d given up on it any time soon.

After a few moments he felt like someone was staring at him and looked up, only to widen his eyes at the mirror. It was him but not as he should be. Instead of seeing himself washing his hands, mirror-Steve was standing with his arms at his sides, his expression unnervingly blank. Behind him was not the bathroom but a chilling emptiness.

As he watched, mirror-him lifted one of his hands, in which was grasped a broken iron sword. He noticed mirror-him’s hands were completely blood-soaked, red rivulets running down his arms.

With a slight smile, mirror-him brought the jagged edge of the sword up to his neck and very deliberately slid the blade across his skin. Blood gushed out and a heavy stream of it ran from the long gash, coating the front of mirror-him’s body.

Steve could only stare in transfixed horror at the gruesome scene. Out of nowhere a loud, anguished scream pierced through the silence and made him flinch hard. One blink and the scene was gone, his own shaken reflection staring back at him. The sink was still running.

He turned it off with a shaky hand, unsteady breath stuttering in his lungs. He felt bile burn his throat as it threatened to make him sick, the horrific images playing on repeat in his head.

“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself, blinking his eyes closed hard. Seeing his own throat slashed didn’t sit well with him, and churned his stomach.

It wasn’t real, he thought hysterically, it wasn’t real.

He backed away from the mirror, lowering himself to the floor once his back hit the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands, taking deep, stuttering breaths in an effort to calm himself down. Everything had been going so well, the last few days; why, why was this happening now?

He must have been sitting there for a while because he startled when there was a knock on the door. He looked up, panicked when he remembered he hadn’t locked it, but Herobrine didn’t try to open it.

“Steve? You okay in there?”

He scrambled to his feet. “Yeah, h-hold on a sec!” He said, turning the sink on and splashing water on his face. He grabbed a towel and scrubbed it over his face, hoping it wasn’t obvious he was about to have some kind of break down. He looked up at the mirror and grimaced at his own, normal reflection before he turned to the door, taking a deep breath before attempting a smile and opening it.

“Sorry, were you waiting long?” He asked, hoping to just…ignore everything. Push it all away until he felt more mentally capable of talking about it. And if he never did? Well…he’d just cross that bridge when he got to it.

Herobrine looked down at him, smiling after a moment. He reached up, and for one moment Steve felt fear shoot down his spine, convinced that Herobrine somehow already knew about his hallucination, was going to put a hand on his neck, but a palm just settled on his cheek instead. Steve closed his eyes and sighed, leaning into the warmth of it. A thumb rubbed gently over his cheekbone, and he blushed when Herobrine’s smiling mouth pressed against his. He made sure to return the kiss with enthusiasm, opening his mouth to deepen it and reaching out to set his hands on Herobrine’s side, gripping his shirt tightly.

Herobrine pulled back just when Steve felt the faintest bit lightheaded from lack of air. He wished he could stay in this moment forever, enjoy the warmth on his cheek and in his heart. Though he looked back on the events of the last few days with some embarrassment, he would say they were the best of his life.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, opening his eyes when Herobrine’s hand dropped from his face.

“Good morning,” Herobrine said. Steve had to force down the swell of emotion blocking his throat—he should definitely tell Herobrine about both his dream and what’d happened in the bathroom.

“Good morning,” he returned instead, like an idiot. He was hyper-aware of his body, actively breathing in and out slowly to avoid devolving into hyperventilation. And realizing he was still standing in the middle of the doorway, blocking the way, he stepped aside with a nervous chuckle. Herobrine’s eyes remained on his as they switched positions. His face was neutral if not slightly happy, but his silence made Steve believe he saw something in his demeanor and was probably debating on what, if anything, to say about it. He really should know better than to try hiding anything from someone who could literally hear when his heart rate increased. Fuck, was it beating faster right now? He’d been so busy silently freaking out in the bathroom that he hadn’t considered maybe Herobrine had actually heard him and that’s why he knocked? Or was he overthinking things again and making his thoughts spiral for no reason? Why couldn’t he stop doing that? What—

“Hello?” Herobrine called, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked and flinched a little, not having expected it. He looked up, confused.

“What?”

Herobrine’s expression was only slightly worried and still mostly neutral. “I asked if you were hungry.”

His stomach growled at the word ‘hungry’ but the thought of eating wasn’t entirely appetizing. He nodded anyway. One less thing for Herobrine to worry about, he supposed.

“Alright. Why don’t you get dressed and we’ll ask Alex about food in a bit.” It was a statement rather than a question, and Steve eagerly agreed, thankful to have both direction and distraction.

“Okay.”

Herobrine stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, and Steve walked over to the chair where his bag was. He rifled through his pack, then looked through the pile of clean clothes Alex had washed for them, but he couldn’t find one of his shirts he was pretty sure he’d packed and already worn at least once. He had two of his teal shirts, one of which Herobrine had worn for a stretch, one dark blue shirt, and one light gray shirt. But the light gray one had been used to staunch the bleeding when Herobrine had been stabbed and left in the forest somewhere, leaving him with just the three shirts. But he couldn’t find the dark blue one.

Scratching his head in confusion, he grabbed the teal shirt and put it on, having no other option. His other teal shirt had been discarded by Herobrine last night and still awaited the laundry. He really needed to see if there was a clothing shop or stall in this village. There must be, as Alex had brought new clothes for Herobrine. He’d have to ask.

Once he was dressed, he glanced up and his eyes caught on the window. The curtains were still drawn, obscuring the view, and the sun’s orange glow brought images of fire to the forefront of his mind. The world around him seemed to fade away as he stared, transfixed by the soft orange hue. Without thinking he reached forward with a shaky hand and gripped the thick fabric. His heart was pounding so hard it nearly hurt. His skin felt hot, much too hot, and he swore he could smell smoke.

With one sharp motion he yanked open the curtain, revealing nothing but the normal sight of the village and biome it inhabited.

“What are you doing?”

Steve yelled out in surprise and turned around to see Herobrine standing a few feet from him with a brow raised. If his heart had been beating hard before it was in overdrive now.

“Why are you so good at that? Did you do that on purpose?” He asked, not…intentionally avoiding the question but he still didn’t feel okay enough to talk about it. But he would. Eventually.

Hopefully.

Herobrine smiled and shrugged. “Maybe a little. I do enjoy it.”

“Well my heart doesn’t, at this rate I’m going to have a heart attack before I’m thirty,” he joked. Herobrine chuckled and stepped forward into his personal space, crowding him back against the wall beside the window. He blushed, still unused to such easy intimacy, of having a body so close to him, and because he was constantly amazed at how forward Herobrine could be, when he wanted to be.

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Herobrine asked, quieter since their faces were so close. Steve didn’t answer, mouth suddenly dry as his eyes flicked between Herobrine’s and his mouth. He very clearly remembered what happened in the forest when he’d been kinda drunk, before he’d ruined the mood. He couldn’t help but think about when things would get like that again. 

Unfortunately, there was a knock on the door, drawing both their attention. Steve smiled at the irritated expression on Herobrine’s face as he went to open it.

“You have the worse timing. Can you read our minds or something and came rushing over to cockblock us?” Herobrine said plainly as he opened the door for Alex. Steve blushed hard at Herobrine’s choice of words and realized he was still pressed against the wall when Alex’s smirk turned to him.

“I can’t read minds, thank the Gods. I can only imagine the depraved thoughts going through that head of yours,” she teased as she stepped into the room. He was surprised to see her in pajamas still, hair loose and wild. Though, he supposed she wasn’t much of a morning person, surprisingly.

“Hey, that's only most of my thoughts.”

“You don’t say. Well, cockblocking aside, I also came over here to give you this,” Alex said, setting a bag on their bed. “It’s some of the food from that farm we stopped at. I’ll probably end up getting more when I go out today. And that’s another thing—I don’t recommend going out, if you can avoid it. Maybe at night, if you have to, or into the forest during the day. The people here are used to strange visitors because of the library but they might not be too kind to you,” she said to Steve at the end. He nodded, only feeling a little hurt about it. It was to be expected after all. Besides, if he and Herobrine were going to be cooped up and Alex was going to be out most of the day…maybe they could continue whatever might have happened that night in the forest. It was all Steve could think about after it’d happened, and now that he knew Herobrine was perfectly willing to also take things that direction—and thankful the man had been the one to take that first step, small though it was—he was excited to go further. All the way, if they found the opportunity. His receding blush came back with a vengeance at that thought.

“T-That’s fine,” Steve agreed, “I’m used to it.”

“I figured. Which is why I want you to make a list of whatever you think you need and I’ll see if I can find it. I’m already going to buy food so don’t worry about that. Just, like, clothes or tools or something. I might buy you a cloak, if I can find a good one,” she said to him. He nodded, smiling in appreciation.

“Thank you Alex, really. Give us a few minutes to make a list.”

“Sure thing. Just slide it under my door when it’s done, I’ll be in the shower.” She let herself out, leaving a still blushing Steve alone with Herobrine, who immediately turned to him with a grin once the door shut.

“What were you thinking about, hm?” He teased. “Your face is a little red there.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He said childishly, sticking his tongue out. Herobrine shook his head with mirth.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I can guess anyway. We can have a little fun later, what do you say?” Herobrine wagged his brows to make it abundantly clear what he was suggesting. Steve didn’t think it was possible for his face to feel any hotter.

“Let’s just make the list, okay?”

As soon as the door shut behind her, Alex sighed.

She’d never felt so conflicted in her life. She really truly was trying to do right by everyone, but it was hard, seeing Steve and Herobrine together. And talking to them, and laughing with them. Despite their sibling-like hostility towards each other, she kinda liked hanging around Herobrine. Who would have guessed? And Steve was a really genuine guy, despite his past. Behind his shier exterior, he was full of life and wasted potential. It was a shame.

She made her way to her room, thinking about how she was going to spend her day. Like she’d told the boys, she jumped in the shower and changed into her day clothes afterwards, feeling more refreshed than she had in the last week or so. She’d missed the basic commodities that came with living in a village, and decided that the sooner she got them to where they needed to go, the better. She didn’t know how much longer she could handle sleeping outside on the cold hard ground, especially since she didn’t have a warm body next to her like Steve and Herobrine did.

The note was right where she’d told them to slide it, when she checked. She picked it up and nodded to herself as she read its contents, having expected the short and basic list. More clothes. Most likely, she’d find what she’d need today once she made it to the library a little later, but regardless she wanted to stay another night. There wasn’t a limit to how long they could stay, after all, not with the token she’d used to get their rooms. But the less Steve and Herobrine questioned her about it, the better. She definitely wasn’t ready to have that disaster of a conversation, mostly because she didn’t have a great way of explaining what it was. She knew they suspected her of not telling the whole truth, but she didn’t know the extent to which they trusted her. Steve at least seemed just as genuine as the first time they’d met, but Herobrine sometimes gave her vibes that he distinctly distrusted her. She’d have to be more careful if she didn’t want this situation to blow up in her face. After all, she really was trying to do the right thing, and to do that, she needed Steve and Herobrine’s cooperation.

She didn’t bother grabbing her bag, just the small gold disc depicting a four-prong star behind a pair of blank eyes. The token was a boon that would get her access to anything and everything she could want, but she knew the people here wouldn’t even need to see it. She’d been here often enough with her friends that most villagers here knew her. A smile crossed her face when she thought about her girlfriend. Oh how she missed her. It had been much too long since they’d seen each other, and her body and mind craved to be near her again.

Just a little longer, she thought to herself, as she made her way out of the inn and to the shops, then I can see her again.

She chatted up the villagers and shopkeepers she knew as she shopped, and flashed the token as needed. People always reacted the same way, which never ceased to amuse her—like they were seeing royalty. She supposed she couldn’t blame them, as the reputation associated with the coin was rather prestigious in this particular village. She acquired a plethora of cured meats and jerkies, as well as bundles of various vegetables and fruits. Someone even offered her a cake which she had to turn down after brief consideration. Too big and too hard to explain to the boys. Instead she was offered a bag of cookies, which she accepted with a smile.

Then she moved on to clothing, deciding on two outfits each for all three of them—personally she was tired of wearing the same three shirts she’d packed. So for her she bought another light green tunic and a nice red one as well as another pair of brown pants. For the boys, she bought them both a new pair of jeans and two plain colored t-shirts. She picked a random variety of colors, ending with purple and brown shirts for Steve, and green and red shirts for Herobrine. She would have gotten teal if they’d had that color in stock, and very briefly entertained the thought of getting traditionally feminine colors as a joke, but ultimately decided against it, much to her own disappointment. She’d have to settle with seeing Herobrine in the pink shirt she’d gotten him. 

After that she went to a small general store and was able to find a cloak for Steve that she liked the feel of. It wasn’t enchanted, unfortunately, but it was sturdy and a nice shade of brown, so she went with it. Once she was done there, she made her way back to the inn with her goodies. She’d drop everything off, see if they were doing okay, and then go to the library.

After she dropped off some of the food and her clothes to her room, she went over and knocked on the boys’ door. There was a laugh from inside, sounding like Steve, before the door opened, revealing, predictably, an irritated Herobrine.

“What?” He said, tone clipped. 

Instead of answering immediately, she unabashedly oogled his half-naked form.

“I brought you a brand new shirt and you choose to walk around like this?” She teased. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, smirking at her.

“I could put it on but Steve would probably just take it right back off me.”

“He’s probably right,” Steve added. Alex leaned a little to the side to see Steve laying on the bed, propped up on his elbows. He looked thoroughly disheveled as he smoothed his shirt back down from where it’d been pushed up to his chest. She smiled, realizing she’d interrupted them again, but she didn’t feel bad about it. If anything she found it hilarious. They were like two teenagers allowed to be alone for the first time.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be here long.” She held out their share of more food and their clothes, as well as Steve’s new cloak. “Just came by to drop off your things.”

Herobrine took the bags, surprisingly cordial about it. “Thanks. I might not express it enough, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

She blinked, taken aback. Where was this behavior coming from? Him acting pleasant like this was actually suspicious.

She narrowed her eyes playfully at him. “Alright, what’s gotten into you? You’re acting too nice.”

He smiled. “I can start being rude again if you’d like,” he offered.

“Please. It gives me the goosebumps when you’re nice, and not in a good way.”

“In that case, thanks for the stuff but fuck off, we’re busy.” With an obviously fake smile, he slammed the door in her face. She chuckled to herself.

“Make sure you’re staying safe!” She said loudly, shaking her head to herself as she started toward the library.

“Was that really necessary?” Steve asked, face red from Alex’s comment. Herobrine deposited the bags in the kitchen area and made his way back to the bed. He paused with one knee on it, looking at Steve with feigned innocence.

“She asked for it. What, was I supposed to ignore her request?”

Steve snorted in amusement, smiling up at him. “Because you’re such a gentleman, right?”

“I could be,” he argued, raking his eyes along Steve’s body, still feeling the thrum of arousal in his own from before Alex had so rudely interrupted them. Usually a little making out and light groping wasn’t enough to really get him going, but something about Steve made him want to savor it. Maybe it was the knowledge that this was all pretty new to Steve, or something about Steve himself, but he didn’t mind taking things slow, for once. Some parts of him definitely minded and wanted him to get right to the good stuff, but for the most part he let Steve direct what they did.

“Somehow I don’t think you could. Not to her anyway,” Steve teased.

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off when Steve’s stomach growled, louder than it had earlier. They both looked down at it briefly.

“Oh that’s right, I forgot I asked if you were hungry. Well now that we have more food, do you want me to make you something?”

For a moment it appeared Steve was going to say no, judging by the look on his face, but he nodded, surprising Herobrine. “That sounds good. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He got off the bed and made his way to the kitchen area, not bothering to put his shirt back on. He took all the food out of the bag and set it on the counter, then tossed the other bag onto the bed next to Steve, who was sitting upright now. “See what Alex got us, I swear if it’s more pink shirts…”

Steve chuckled as he did as told. “I think it will look very nice on you,” he commented, pulling out an assortment of clothes. No pink, thankfully, but there was a purple.

“These are for me,” Steve said, setting the purple and brown shirts aside. “And these are for you.” He gestured to the red and green ones. There was also two pairs of jeans. Herobrine made a face but shrugged.

“I guess that’s alright.”

“Well it’s not like we can go out and find our own stuff. Unless the shops are open when it’s dark, which I doubt. So I’m grateful.”

Herobrine chose to remain silent, instead looking through the food she’d given them. It was fairly basic, some meat, fruits, and vegetables. The most exciting thing was a bag of cookies. Despite his general lack of appetite, his mouth watered just looking at them. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had them, nor what they tasted like.

Looking through the cabinet above the furnace and crafting table, there were only some small wooden bowls, a couple paper plates, and some wooden cups. And in the drawer, a few sets of utensils. Under that, the cabinet held some pans. But that was it. No ingredients he could see. Looked like they’d have to use the crafting table.

He combined the new food Alex had gotten them with the old food she’d acquired from the farm. There was one egg, so he set that frying while he placed wheat on the crafting table to make some bread. They didn’t have anything other than water to drink, so he filled one of the cups with it and set it on the counter. Once the egg was ready he put it on a plate, then tore the newly crafted loaf of bread in half and put that with the egg, grabbing a fork from the drawer.

He walked the plate and the cup over to Steve, who’d moved to the chairs by the windows. He smiled up at him and accepted the food. “Thank you. Looks like you can be a gentleman after all.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

Herobrine looked at the rest of what Alex had gotten them. She’d found a cloak for Steve, a basic one without enchantments. He picked it up and sat in the chair it’d been draped over, feeling the quality of it in his hands. Not bad, but the lack of enchantments kinda sucked. He’d much prefer for it to have protection—

At that thought, he felt an incredibly swift build up of power inside him, like he was about to teleport, before it left him in a rush, leaving him disoriented from the unexpected action. But even more cause for concern was the now shimmering cloak held in his grasp. He looked at it in stunned silence, and across from him, Steve had paused eating, staring with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Did you just…enchant that cloak?” Steve asked slowly, hardly believing the evidence directly in front of him. Herobrine couldn’t either.

Herobrine didn’t know what to say. Had he? There really wasn’t another explanation for what’d just happened.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Steve commented when he didn’t respond.

Herobrine looked at him helplessly before looking back down at the cloak. “I can’t.”

“Then…what happened?” Steve asked. “How’d you do that?”

“I have no idea. I was just thinking about how I would prefer to have enchantments on it, and then this happened.” He held the cloak up and out, as if it was going to attack him.

“What’d you put on it?”

He was about to say ‘I don’t know,’ but as he looked at the cloak and held it firmly, he realized he could actually sense that there was a basic protection enchant on it. He didn’t know how, but he could.

“Protection one,” he responded faintly.

“Wow. That’s incredible!” Steve exclaimed. “You can enchant things without a table!”

Herobrine did not smile in return, too confused about why it happened at all. Despite the benefit of having an ability like that, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Because he’d never been able to do it before, so why now?

“I guess I can,” he agreed, but Steve must have heard the uncertainty in his tone.

“What’s wrong?”

Where did he even begin?

“This isn’t right. I’ve never been able to do this before.”

“Oh. Well, personally I think it’s because we’re in the Overworld.”

Herobrine looked up at him like he’d lost his mind. “Why would that matter?”

“More specifically, I think it’s because you’re not around the Wither anymore. I mean, your healing got better, right? And so did your hearing. And you’re able to sense not only Overworld mobs but other people as well. And all that started happening after we got to the Overworld, right? So what else would be the cause?”

He could definitely see where Steve was getting that idea, but in all those cases, he’d already had the ability. He could hear, obviously, and heal, and sense and command the Nether mobs. Having those powers enhanced because he was away from the Wither might be plausible. But having an entirely new ability? He wasn’t so sure.

But all things considered, being able to enchant things on the fly and at a whim wasn’t too bad a hand to be dealt.

Though he didn’t know exactly how it worked, he looked hard at the cloak. Protection four, unbreaking three, he thought. Protection four, unbreaking three. Protection fo—

Just like before, his power built inside him faster than it ever had before rushing out and into the cloak, this time leaving him dizzy. The shimmering glow of enchantment deepened on it, and he could plainly tell that the cloak was now enchanted to the max with protection and unbreaking. 

“Looks like I can’t use it to often. That time made me a little dizzy,” he reported as he laid the cloak over the chair’s arm. Steve gave him a worried look.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It was just for a moment,” he assured, then stood and reached for the empty plate on Steve’s lap. “Done?”

“Yes, thank you,” Steve said absentmindedly, handing him the plate while still gazing at the cloak. Herobrine tried to just…ignore it, at least for now. Couldn’t they have one day where no crazy shit happened?

“I still can’t believe you can do that,” Steve said, even as Herobrine walked back over to him and took his hand to pull him to his feet. He snapped out of his thoughts and smiled up at Herobrine, only to be interrupted by a yawn. Herobrine raised a brow.

“Tired?” He questioned, noting immediately how Steve tensed. Not a lot, and probably not noticeable if he had been anyone else. But he picked up on it right away.

“A little. I didn’t sleep very well,” Steve admitted. Herobrine made a sound of acknowledgement, then lead Steve over to the bed.

“Come on,” he urged, pulling the covers out of the way and crawling into bed. He patted the space next to him and felt way too many emotions when Steve immediately crawled over and settled next to him. Herobrine laid back and lifted his arm around Steve’s shoulder, pulling him close as he brought the covers back up, encasing them in their plushy warmth.

“Isn’t it a little early to take a nap?” Steve questioned, even as he snuggled up beside him and got comfortable, laying his head on Herobrine’s shoulder and stretching his arm over his midsection. Herobrine rested the arm that wasn’t around Steve’s shoulders along his arm, squeezing it briefly.

“Nah, it’s probably noon by now. Besides who cares? We’re here to relax for a bit, I say you can take a nap whenever you want.”

Steve laughed softly before Herobrine felt his body fully relax. “I can’t argue with that logic.”

He remained silent, and not even five minutes later he could tell Steve was already asleep. He settled a little more into the bed, sighing softly. After a few more minutes he could tell this was going to be like torture—he was already bored.

As carefully and as quietly as he could, he looked hard at Steve’s pack and teleported one of the books he knew was in it into his hand. It was a little awkward to read with just one available hand but he managed, not really having any other choice.

However, after not long at all, he felt his eyes grow tired. Part of him recognized that something was wrong, because he’d slept most of last night and there was no way he was tired again already. But another part of him was content to accept it. What could be the harm, joining Steve in taking a nap? Besides, if anything happened, he would snap awake in an instant. But that one part of him whispered that nothing was going to happen and that he should close his eyes and fall asleep. His instincts fought to tell him something was off but he couldn't resist the sudden and intense wave of drowsiness.

Within a few seconds he succumbed to slumber.

Alex sighed for the tenth time, staring at the book in her hands but not registering a single sentence she read. She loved books, and the library in this village was spectacular, but she just had too much on her mind.

After a few more futile minutes, she gave up and sat the book on the table, putting her face in her hands and groaning.

“Is it that bad?” Came a familiar voice that made her jolt and gasp, looking up into the beautiful green eyes of her girlfriend. She stared in disbelief, even rubbed her hand over her eyes in case she was just seeing things.

“Mirai…what are you doing here!?” She whisper yelled, equally shocked and delighted. It was risky for Mirai to be here—both Steve and Herobrine knew who she was, what she looked like. But at the same time…

Her girlfriend was finally here, after so long, right in front of her and just as beautiful as always.

Alex stood up and grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the restrooms. They entered the girl’s bathroom and Alex locked the door before practically tackling Mirai, wrapping her arms around her neck and pressing their mouths together. Mirai sighed and held on just as tightly, opening her mouth so their tongues could meet and swirl together. In the privacy of the bathroom, Alex didn’t try to keep any sounds in. She just felt so grateful to have Mirai in her arms again, she moaned and whined and gasped when Mirai bit her bottom lip. When they pulled apart, Mirai smiled and licked her lips.

“Mm, if that’s the greeting I get then we should stay apart more often.”

Alex huffed. “No we shouldn’t, I’ve missed you too much. It’s hard seeing the boys together.” She looked down, focusing her gaze somewhere around Mirai’s clavicles. “I missed you,” she said quietly, somewhat shy. She wasn’t a shy person by nature, but the depth of her love for Mirai was so overpowering that she often turned into a blushing mess of emotion around her.

Mirai put a hand on her cheek and lifted her face, so they could gaze into each other’s eyes. “I missed you too.”

The next kiss was much slower, as they savored it, finally back together. But, they both knew it wouldn’t be for long.

“What are you even doing here?” Alex asked. They’d been communicating secretly for a reason. It was too risky with Herobrine around to meet in person, especially since Adelaide or one of the others would have to teleport her close. Herobrine would surely sense that in a heartbeat.

“Adelaide was asked to check out something nearby, so I asked her to bring me along. But more importantly, Juneau asked Jasmine to accompany Adelaide."

Alex was surprised to hear about Jasmine. “Jasmine’s here? So that's his plan. Now I understand why you asked for something of Steve's.” She'd felt weird taking one of Steve's shirts, but it made sense, if it was for Jasmine.

Mirai nodded. “Yep.”

Jasmine was dangerous simply because of her gift. Though she looked delicate and unassuming, the power that had manifested in her after becoming Withered allowed her to make people see what she wanted them too. Alex had experienced it before, and it could be very convincing. The vision felt real enough to trick even other Withered, until she deemed it enough. She could see why Juneau would want Jasmine involved if they were even going to have a chance at subduing Herobrine. Because although Alex agreed with their course of action, she knew that there was one problem that Juneau wasn’t convinced was actually a problem—Steve. Juneau believed Herobrine would join them. Alex and pretty much everyone else who’d read her reports believed otherwise. If his idea was to use Jasmine and deal with Steve separately, eventually Jasmine would get tired and her power would start to wane, allowing Herobrine to break free from it. And the first thing he would do was look for Steve.

"I can't say I'm surprised that Juneau asked for her help but I am surprised that she agreed."

Mirai's expression left much to be desired. "She didn't agree, because he didn't ask. He commanded her."

She whistled. "He's not okay is he? Mentally." Juneau was making questionable decisions ever since finding out about Herobrine. It was strange that it affected him so much.

Mirai shook her head. "I don't think so. He killed Sini."

Alex gasped, staring at her in disbelief. "What?" And after everything that bastard had put her through, she'd been looking forward to giving him a good smack.

"Yeah, Adelaide said Juneau ripped his heart out. I saw a bunch of zombies eating his corpse later than night when he called us to reiterate his order not to hurt Herobrine. It was kinda messed up."

"That's an understatement," Alex commented with a snort.

Mirai shrugged. "You know we can't question it."

Alex sighed. "Yeah I know. Juneau doesn't know what he's doing. He's wrong about Herobrine."

Mirai tugged her into a hug. "Don't let him hear you say that. He already killed one of his own without hesitation, I couldn't bear if anything happened to you."

Alex returned the hug fiercely. "Don't worry, I'm much smarter than Sini."

That got Mirai to huff out a quiet laugh. "True."

They pulled away from each other and Alex paced in the small bathroom, thinking over Mirai's words. Sini was pompous, and an asshole, but he was still one of them. More so than even Alex and Mirai were. Juneau should have valued his life more. So it was unsettling to hear that he would turn so easily on another of his own kind. There weren't many—Juneau chose who was offered the Wither's power and with Sini dead, that left only himself and Adelaide, Jasmine, and Marque. And, of course, Herobrine.

Alex preferred to have all the pieces of a puzzle before she made any rash decisions. She needed to return to Graven and talk to Juneau. She knew Juneau liked her, valued her charisma and her go-getter personality, so she wasn't too worried about confronting him. Because like she'd just told Mirai, she was smarter than Sini and knew what and, more importantly, what not to say.

"You said Adelaide was nearby?" She asked, stopping her pacing to turn to Mirai. The blonde was leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, a small smile on her face as she watched Alex pace.

"In the taiga somewhere. I'm not sure about the specifics and Adelaide's had a lot on her mind recently so I didn't ask."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Adelaide was Juneau's right hand. She was just as, if not more respected. Personally Alex thought Adelaide should lead them but wisely kept that thought between herself and Mirai, who agreed with her.

"Tonight we'll go find her. I need to ask her some things."

Mirai nodded. "Okay. Now, can we please get out of this bathroom? Not really where I wanted our reunion to be."

Alex smiled and held out her hand, heart feeling full when their finger's laced together.

"Gladly. Let's go."

Herobrine snapped awake, unsure what had woken him. He felt unnaturally drowsy, his body resistant to his desire to get up and look around. The room was quiet, the midday sun shining gently through the window. He blinked heavily several times, shaking away the last vestiges of slumber as he looked around for any threats that might have woken him. But the room was empty.

Still a little unsettled, he made a motion to get up when he realized what felt off. He looked down, feeling worry bubble up inside him. Steve was still sound asleep, but his grip on Herobrine was tight. The arm around his stomach was holding on as if his life depended on it and at some point Herobrine had moved his other arm in his sleep and Steve was digging his nails into it. His face was the real worry—brows pinched and lips turned down in a frown, small twitches jerking his body as he dreamed. Whatever he was experiencing, it didn't seem pleasant. Herobrine easily tugged Steve's hands off him and propped himself up on his side, reaching over to shake Steve's shoulder roughly.

"Steve! Wake up!"

Surprisingly, Steve immediately jerked awake and took a deep breath, looking around frantically before realizing where he was and sighing, rolling away to flop onto his back on his side of the bed. He put his palms over his face and groaned.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Herobrine asked cautiously. Perhaps a long shot, but he might as well ask.

Steve dragged his hands down his face.

"Not really," he sighed, looking over. He looked more tired than before somehow, despite just waking up from a nap. "But I think I should."

"I'm all ears," he said with a smile, trying to make his tone light, but as Steve just stared at him, silent and face blank, Herobrine let his smile drop, sensing something different about the moment. Whatever Steve had dreamed about, it must have really upset him.

Eventually Steve rolled back over to be close to him, winding his arms around Herobrine's back and burying his face in his chest. Without a shirt to act as a buffer, he could feel every uneven breath waft over his skin.

"The Wither is trying to make me doubt you," Steve said quietly, and Herobrine was instantly on edge at the mention. He returned the embrace slowly, thinking of all the possible ways he could go to the Nether and murder the Wither. Dismemberment sounded nice. He would enjoy that, he thought.

"Is it working?" Herobrine asked, almost as an afterthought. He felt Steve's grip on him tighten.

"I don't want it to. I want to believe that you're on my side." He looked down just as Steve looked up, their faces inches apart.

Herobrine had never felt so emotional over a single person before. But looking into Steve's eyes right now, he knew that he would do anything to keep Steve safe and happy.

He brought his hand up to Steve's cheek, cupping it like he had earlier that morning. And just like that morning, Steve closed his eyes and leaned into it.

"I want to trust you. I do trust you. And I'm tired of being made to feel otherwise." Steve opened his eyes and looked into his, his expression hardening. "I don't want to look at you and feel any doubts. I want to look at you and feel..." Steve trailed off, struggling to find the right words. Herobrine held his breath, waiting for Steve to finish.

"I want to look at you and feel happy. I want to feel like we're a team. A large part of me does feel that way, when we're together. But that small part of me that knows only loneliness is just waiting for the inevitable." Steve looked away. "Waiting for you to leave me alone, like everyone else has."

In the wake of Steve's silence, Herobrine tried to think of something to say. Something meaningful. Because he was committed, more than Steve probably thought. If he looked inward, it was very plain to himself what his feelings for Steve were. In the grand scheme of things, he knew that their relationship was still new. They'd only known each other for a relatively short amount of time—surely no more than two months. It was probably wrong to feel so strong for someone in such an amount of time, but if it was wrong, he didn't want to be right.

"Steve, look at me." He waited for Steve to lift his face, his heart aching from the uncertainty pasted across it. In his company, Steve should never feel any doubts.

He closed the distance between them. Steve lifted his arms to wrap them around his neck, keeping them close. Herobrine lowered his hand to Steve's side, slipping it under his shirt and sliding it around to his lower back, pressing to bring their entire bodies together. Like Herobrine predicted, Steve opened his mouth to moan and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue inside, muffling Steve’s steadily increasing sounds of pleasure.

A wave of strong emotion washed over him and he pulled away briefly.

"I love you," he admitted against Steve's lips. Steve's breath hitched and his nails dug into Herobrine's back, sending shivers of arousal down his spine. It spurred him to finally move, rolling over and feeling his heart rate double when Steve automatically opened his legs to allow Herobrine to settle comfortably between them.

"I would never leave you. I don't think I could live without you. You've ruined me for anyone else," he said. And as he said it he knew it to be true. He was being vulnerable right now, revealing his true feelings, but with Steve, he felt okay doing so. And he wanted Steve to feel the same way.

To his relief Steve gave him a small smile, his cheeks pinking nicely. "I've never been in love before but...this must be what it feels like," he said breathlessly, winding his arms around Herobrine's neck again to pull him down and continue their kiss. When his legs lifted and his ankle's crossed over Herobrine's back, he felt like they were about to cross a line he’d been ready to cross practically since day one.

"Show me," Steve whispered and Herobrine smiled into their kiss.

"Gladly."

Chapter Text

Though his face felt hot, warmth spead across the bridge of his nose and along his cheekbones, and though his heart raced in his chest, beating loud enough to hinder coherent thought, for once Steve didn’t feel the usual embarrassment he might in a situation like this. With his legs wrapped around Herobrine’s hips and Herobrine’s tongue mapping out his mouth, he would have expected himself to be hesitant, or even shy. Maybe give a weak resistance as embarrassment and uncertainty slithered down his spine and poisoned the moment.

But his breathing was even, if not a little heavy. When Herobrine pulled away, allowing barely an inch of space between their mouths for a few seconds, Steve did not feel the need to increase that space. Actively sought to close it, when Herobrine misjudged the time Steve needed to recover enough breath to continue. Perhaps not enough time to take a true breath, but enough to press their mouths together again and feel that deep connection that pulsed through his body with the beat of his heart. A feeling he only experienced with Herobrine.

Maybe it was love. He didn’t know. It hurt a little, the depths of it. Hurt and scared him. But it was a good kinda hurt, like he felt so much of it that he couldn’t possibly contain it, though he’d been trying. But now, with Herobrine’s hands on his body roaming with purpose and intent, with Herobrine’s mouth on his, insistent and thorough, with Herobrine’s body pressed against his, hard and undeniable—why try to hide from the truth? He was still scared of giving in only to be stabbed in the back later, but maybe that was love. Maybe willingly surrendering to someone he knew could hurt him but trusted not to was love.

And even if it wasn’t, if his inexperience and naïvety were showing a little too much, it didn’t matter because he was sure, with his entire mind, body, and soul, that he wanted to be with Herobrine right here and now, in this moment. He wanted to trust Herobrine to show him what love might be.

In this moment, everything that troubled him slid away, scurried from his mind’s eye to give him a modicum of peace. It was just them, together.

Herobrine’s mouth pulled away again, to give him a brief respite to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up, open-mouth panting. Given the opportunity, instead of reconnecting their mouths, Herobrine lowered his focus, letting his lips barely skim the skin of his neck, hot breath sending a pleasant tingling across his nerves. He let out of breathy moan, barely more than a sigh, when Herobrine descended to lay his teeth on the sensitive skin. He settled one of his hands on the nape of Herobrine’s neck and trailed it up through his hair until he stopped, gripping the short strands at the back of Herobrine’s head, neither pulling nor pushing but encouraging. Keeping Herobrine there while he allowed his body to take in every gentle sensation and react on pure instinct. The electric impulses that shot down to the pit of his stomach and churned the steadily growing inferno of pleasure inside him.

They had only been kissing for a few minutes and already Steve felt more pleasure now than he ever had in his life. Even when the rare urge struck him and he risked masturbating, those moments had always been overshadowed by embarrassment and the fear of somehow being caught—of literally being found with his pants down and unable to defend himself. Fear did not make a pleasant bedfellow.

The disconnect between then and now couldn’t be any clearer. There was nothing but heat, and safety, and the desire for more.

His legs tightened and his hips jerked. Steve felt the way Herobrine’s entire body shuddered before his mouth left his neck and he pulled away. A hand came up and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back down. He opened his eyes to Herobrine’s pinked face, staring into those white eyes and trying to decipher the emotions behind them.

“I need to be sure of this,” Herobrine said, the first words between them in at least five minutes. “Have you ever been with a man before?”

Steve shook his head minutely so as not to dislodge the hand on him, expecting to feel embarrassed but…there was nothing but patience, and trust.

“No,” he answered quietly. Despite the fact that it was the middle of the day, he felt as if they were in their own little bubble, separate and muted from everything. “I’ve never been with anyone before.”

Herobrine took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his expression practically smoldering. “Fuck, I should not find that so hot,” he admitted and that got Steve to laugh softly. He placed both his hands on Herobrine’s shoulders, digging his nails lightly into the muscle he found.

“I’m glad my first time is you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.” Nobody would ever understand, like he felt Herobrine did. Even if he were to meet another person with purple eyes who might have gone through similar experiences growing up as he did, he still knew deep down that there was something about Herobrine that drew him in. He was connected to this distant, strange man, and delighted in leading him back to the light.

Herobrine groaned and removed his hand to place it beside his head, supporting himself above so he could look down at him. “You’re lucky we didn’t know each other when I was human—I would have absolutely wrecked you after the first time you so much as smiled at me.”

Steve did feel his cheeks heat up a little more, but the words traveled right to his already hard and aching cock, trapped as it was in the confides of his jeans. His hips jerked and Herobrine answered by settling a little more of his weight between his legs, letting Steve feel his answering erection, though it was muted thanks to the denim. Still, Steve sucked in a shaky breath.

"I get to be with you now though," he said with a soft smile. He let one of his hands slide down Herobrine's chest to rest over his heart, feeling it beat rapidly. Feeling the effect he had on Herobrine made arousal gather hot and heavy in his gut.

“And I couldn’t be happier for it,” Herobrine responded, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth before he sat back and set his hands on Steve’s hips, fingers just slipping under his shirt. “Just make sure you tell me if you need me to stop. I don’t want to hurt you unless you want it.” Herobrine winked at that and Steve could only nod, throat going drying and butterflies fluttering in his stomach as Herobrine slowly inched his hands up his body, the warmth of them sending tingles across his skin. He sucked in a breath when they skimmed over his stomach, bit his lip when they dragged up his chest and over his nipples, and lifted his arms to allow his shirt to be pulled over his head and tossed carelessly to the floor.

The slide of Herobrine’s bare skin against his own made him arch with a low sound, knowing he was going to cause indents in Herobrine’s skin with how hard he was grabbing on but unable to let go. He wanted this so badly he could hardly think about anything else, and he was desperate for Herobrine to stay close.

Herobrine lowered his body fully so they were touching hip to chest, one of his hands cupping Steve’s cheek as he pressed their mouths together again, but the pace was kept slow, enough so Steve could really experience each touch, the intention behind them, the feelings they instilled in him. He appreciated being able to hold on and just—feel. No thinking, no worrying, no wondering. Just feeling.

And oh was he feeling. Herobrine’s muscle as his body shifted above him, the intense pressure at his crotch as their hips ground together, the heavy blush of heat on his cheeks as Herobrine explored his mouth so thoroughly. The need to breath warred with his desire to stay locked as long as possible, resulting in dizzy spells that made him whine and squeeze his eyes shut, grab onto Herobrine wherever he could reach. And Herobrine would let up despite Steve’s quiet protest, smile against his lips as he panted for breath.

Apparently satisfied with his mouth, Herobrine nudged along his jaw and down his throat, pressing kisses against his heated skin. Steve expected him to stop, but he pulled back a bit so he could continue his trail of kisses all the way to Steve’s chest. Steve managed to open his eyes halfway and watched, shuddering in arousal when Herobrine looked up and smirked. Then he lowered his head and Steve arched and gasped as that mouth closed around one of his nipples, tongue lathing over the sensitive bud and teeth biting into his skin. He brought both his hands to Herobrine’s hair, taking two loose fistfuls of the short strands but neither pulling nor pulling. Just like a few minutes ago, he only wanted to encourage Herobrine to continue.

Herobrine let up and gave a small, breathy chuckle as he moved to the other side, giving both nipples equal treatment. Steve bit his lip hard and squeezed Herobrine’s waist with his legs, flame of arousal burning hot and bright. Gods, he’d never felt so good before. And now he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

After a few torturous minutes wherein Herobrine thoroughly abused his chest, he finally let up, adjusting his knees better under him and slowly started kissing his way down Steve’s stomach. It fluttered at every gentle press of lips, and he almost said something when Herobrine got to the scar of the runes. But Herobrine just kissed over it like it wasn’t there, and once he got far enough he sat up fully, placing his hands on Steve’s clothed hips.

“Good so far?” He asked, smiling so charmingly Steve’s brain took a second to turn back on and remember how to speak.

“Y-Yeah,” he said. “More than good.”

“Good. Remember to tell me when it’s too much, alright? I’m not usually this considerate during sex but I’m trying for your sake.”

Steve smiled, heart skipping a beat. That probably wasn’t meant to be considered romantic, but to Steve it was. He appreciated that Herobrine was letting things go slow, so Steve could relax into each phase. Part of him was the tiniest bit anxious, about the actual sex part, because who wouldn’t be? But he knew Herobrine would be careful. Trusted him to make it a good first time.

He reached up, pressing his palm against Herobrine’s stomach, just to touch him. “Thank you. But at this rate I might have to ask you to hurry up,” he teased, tugging at the waistband of Herobrine’s pajamas suggestively. Herobrine’s eyes narrowed and his smile promised naughty things.

“Believe me, I would enjoy nothing more than to turn you into a moaning, wanton mess, but…” Herobrine’s smile faded a bit. “I want to take it slow for both our sakes. I haven’t done this in a long time and I don’t want to hurt you on accident.”

Understanding dawned on him. Steve took a deep breath in and sighed with a smile as he pushed himself up to cup both of Herobrine’s cheeks, staring clearly into his eyes.

“You won’t hurt me. I trust you, okay? But we can take things slow if you want. I just don’t want to…” A small amount of embarrassment crawled up the back of his neck. “…prematurely ruin the moment.”

Herobrine laughed softly. “Oh, let me promise you this, you will definitely cum more than once.” He winked while Steve laughed as well, more startled than anything by the blunt statement. “So no need to hold back, got it?”

Steve smiled playfully, leaning in and whispering his next words into Herobrine’s ear. “Yes sir, I understand.”

Herobrine groaned and slid his hands from Steve’s hips to his back, smoothing his hands across the expanse of bared skin as he connected their mouths, quickly turning the kiss into something filthy. Steve could just hold on tight as his mouth was thoroughly plundered, making quiet sounds and feeling that returning dizziness the longer it went on. He didn’t even realize Herobrine had laid him back onto the bed until the kiss broke and he was allowed to breath.

“Don’t complain when we’re done. You asked for it, tempting me so much,” Herobrine said, separating their bodies for the first time in ten or so minutes as he scooted back a bit, but Steve’s complaint about the loss of warmth died in his throat when Herobrine put his hands on the front of his jeans, cupping him through the denim and applying that direct pressure that had Steve bite his lip with the loudest sound made yet, a building keen in his throat as his nerves were alit with fresh pleasure. He grabbed the bedsheet, body starting to tremble from the teasing, slow strokes Herobrine was torturing him with.

Just when he was about to say something—well, just when he was going to attempt to say something—Herobrine unbuttoned his jeans and zipped them open, then hooked his fingers over the waistband.

“Lift your hips,” he instructed. Steve did so obediently, letting himself be divested of his jeans to leave him clad only in his boxers. This time when Herobrine repositioned himself between Steve’s spread legs and pressed their groins together firmly, without that thick barrier of cloth the sensation of pure pleasure hit Steve like an anvil. He moaned unabashedly, wrapping his legs around Herobrine again to keep them together and subconsciously rolling his hips against Herobrine’s for more. Herobrine encouraged it, rewarding his enthusiasm by matching his movements, pressing him down into the bed. One of his hands snaked under Steve’s bottom and grabbed a handful of his ass to pull them impossibly closer, the friction and pleasure causing Steve to gasp out loud and squeeze his eyes shut. He focused on the feeling, the heat, of having Herobrine so close to him in such an intimate away. He remembered feeling similar that night in the forest. But his doubts since then had been quelled. He hoped for good.

“A-Ah.” It slipped out of him unintentionally. He didn’t truly realize he was actively trying to keep quiet until he lifted his hand to cover his mouth and Herobrine easily pulled it away, grabbing his wrist and pressing it to the bed.

“Don’t silence yourself. I want to hear you.”

“But…what if…” What if someone heard? And came to investigate? He couldn’t make sounds of interest and risk getting caught, he had to be as silent as possible.

“There are no ‘what ifs,’” Herobrine said, pausing their rutting to stare down at him. Steve was torn between agonizing the loss of that brilliant spark of pleasure as they stilled or being grateful for the pause as fear of discovery and what may come next turned his blood to ice.

“It’s just you and me,” Herobrine pointed out patiently, even as he started moving his hips again. On instinct Steve made to cover his mouth with his other hand, only to have it too caught halfway and pressed to the bed. Herobrine had to lean over him to hold his hands down, forced to press their upper bodies together firmer, in turn lessening the space between their cocks. Herobrine’s pace turned hard and insistent, pushing Steve closer and closer to release and making it hard for him to contain his sounds of pleasure—made it hard for him to want to.

Herobrine shifted their hands above Steve’s head, taking both of his in just one and moving the other between their bodies, taking Steve’s clothed erection in hand and stroking with a short, firm motion. The thin material of his boxers did little to hinder the direct, sure grip Herobrine had on him.

Steve let out a breathy moan, pulling fruitlessly against the grip holding his hands down. He wanted to feel Herobrine, the shifting muscles, the heated flesh. He wanted to grab on and never let go.

“H-Hero…Hero—m-mnh.” He could barely start a sentence, then was denied speech entirely when Herobrine connected their mouths again. He didn’t even try to keep up with the kiss, just kept his mouth open and whined through it, feeling saliva escape the side of his mouth and dribble down his chin. The intimacy and shamelessness with which Herobrine brought him pleasure coupled to finally send him over the edge. He arched as much as he could and clamped his legs on Herobrine’s sides, squeezing tightly as he came in his boxers. Herobrine’s hand stroked him through it, prolonging his pleasure until it started to sour. He accidentally bit down when his body jerked from the beginnings of overstimulation, but Herobrine surprised him by moaning into his mouth and renewing the urgency of their kiss. He removed his hand from between them and picked up the pace of his rutting. It didn’t take him long before he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Steve’s shoulder and stuttering out, “F-Fuck—ah.”

He stilled completely. Steve only realized belatedly that he must have come too. His thoughts were so scattered he was honestly surprised he could even connect those two obvious dots.

Herobrine finally let his hands go. They throbbed a bit, as blood rushed back into them, but Steve ignored it as he wrapped his arms around Herobrine’s shoulders, gently skimming his fingertips across his back as they shared a moment to catch their breath.

After a few moments, Herobrine pulled away and sat up. Coherent thought was slowly returning to Steve as the movement made him aware of how slimy and cold his boxers suddenly were.

“I don’t remember the last time I came in my pants,” Herobrine commented as he pulled his waistband away from his body and looked down. He made a face that reflected exactly how Steve felt about the unpleasant sensation.

“Is that good or bad?” Steve asked, squirming. But there just wasn’t any escaping it.

Herobrine chuckled and placed his hands on Steve’s thighs, rubbing up and down tantalizingly slowly. It made him tense in anticipation, his cock giving a valiant twitch as arousal pooled again in his gut. There was some slight worry, but for the most part he was looking forward to what was coming.

“Definitely good,” Herobrine said with a smile. He patted Steve’s thighs before letting go and getting up. Steve looked at him questioningly, lifting himself onto his elbows as he watched Herobrine flit about the kitchen area.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for something we can use as lube. I don’t think spit is a good idea considering it’s your first time,” Herobrine explained from where he was rummaging through the bags of food Alex had given them. He made a sound of triumph and returned holding a long, thin bottle. Cooking oil. 

Steve knew he’d never be able to look at another bottle of cooking oil without thinking of this moment and blushing furiously.

Before Herobrine returned to his spot between Steve’s legs, he sat the bottle to the side and didn’t hesitate to shuck off his pajama pants, leaving himself nude. Steve was unable to keep from staring at his semi-hard member with a good amount of trepidation. No way that was going to fit inside him. He wasn’t a good judge on size considering he’d only ever seen his own dick, and it wasn’t like Herobrine was abnormally large, he just couldn’t fathom it going in smoothly.

He swallowed his nerves—he trusted Herobrine, after all—and looked up, face flushing red again when he saw the smirk on Herobrine’s face.

“What do ya’ think?”

“It’s…big,” he said plainly, eyes dropping back down. It really was just a normal dick and yet Steve couldn’t stop staring at it like it was some alien thing about to attack him. “Is it going to fit?”

“Oh yeah, no need to worry about that. It might feel uncomfortable for a little bit but it gets better.”

“If—If you say so,” he agreed timidly, looking into Herobrine’s eyes again and offering him a small smile. Herobrine seemed to be able to read that Steve was having worries and leaned down to kiss him sweetly, cupping his cheek and pressing their mouths together lightly.

“I promise, alright?” Herobrine whispered and Steve sighed, nodding as Herobrine sat up again.

“Okay. I trust you.”

Herobrine’s genuine and happy smile nearly stole his breath away. He laid back down, heart rate increasing as Herobrine tugged lightly at the end of his boxers.

“So, are you ready?” He asked. Steve nodded.

“As ever,” he said, and Herobrine tugged his boxers off, tossing them aside and leaving both of them finally naked.

The surrealism of having another body with him in such an intimate way boggled his mind. He’d given up hope, for this type of connection. He’d accepted that he was going to live his life alone. But now he had someone who wanted to be with him like this. Someone who loved him. He could hardly comprehend it.

He was yanked right out of his thoughts when Herobrine’s hand encircled his cock and gave it a few light, teasing strokes. It was a slightly more intense pleasure than the rutting, being so direct, and ignited that deep rooted arousal at his core faster than ever before. He fisted the bedsheets and dug his heels into the bed, pushing his hips up, aching for more. The light touch wasn’t nearly enough to keep him satisfied for long.

“M-More…” He moaned out absentmindedly.

“More? Like this?”

His whole body jerked when Herobrine increased the pace. Gods he’d never felt so good before. His own hand had never been able to get him to this level of pleasure. Herobrine stroked with a tight, firm motion, base to tip and back, occasionally thumbing at the slit on the head. Steve bit his lip hard, whining high in his throat.

All at once the stroking stopped, and Steve nearly gasped at the loss. Instead he let his abused lip go and opened his eyes, breathing heavily, pleasure burning and sharp in his gut.

“Wh—Why?” He managed to get out, eyes landing on Herobrine’s smug face. His boyfriend merely grinned.

“Oh I’m sorry, were you enjoying that?” His tone and smile implied he already knew the answer.

For a brief moment Steve thought about kicking him, but it was dashed from his mind as he relaxed boneless on the bed, letting his legs fall open more and letting go of the bedsheet. He did still attempt a glare but it didn’t feel threatening in the slightest.

“Now…who’s teasing?” He asked breathlessly. He watched as Herobrine chuckled and reached over to grab the oil, and just tried to take steady breaths. He felt comfortable, equally sated and aroused. Though he knew what to expect based solely on what he’d read about it—not much, truth be told, but enough not to be coming into this completely ignorant—he couldn’t help but feel nervous. Especially when Herobrine overturned the oil and poured some on his fingers.

“Okay. You’re going to feel some pressure, and it might burn a bit or just be generally uncomfortable. But I’m going to try and make it as easy and pleasurable as possible.” Herobrine paused with a thoughtful expression. “Have you ever fingered yourself before?”

The speed and intensity with which his face flushed almost made him dizzy. “N-No, but I’ve read about it.”

Herobrine smiled in a patient kinda way. “So no. But that’s okay. I like that I’m your first for all these experiences.”

Steve smiled, feeling giddy. “Me too.”

“Alright, just try to relax.”

Steve definitely tried, though he already felt as relaxed as he could be given the circumstances. But then Herobrine’s slick hand enclosed around his cock, shocking him with the instant pleasure. Their brief conversation had put his arousal on the back burner but Herobrine’s even paced strokes were doing a great job at stoking the fire in his gut.

Even more so when Herobrine shifted to lean down, practically laying on him as their mouths found each other. He made quiet sounds, grasping onto Herobrine’s shoulders and digging his fingers in, pulling Herobrine closer. Already they were pressed groin to mouth, but it didn’t feel enough.

The oil from Herobrine’s hand created a slippery surface between their bodies, even when he withdrew so they could rut together again. Steve barely noticed Herobrine’s hand leaving him until he felt it return below his shaft, cupping his balls and making him moan loudly into their kiss. He felt the smile on Herobrine’s lips as their kiss turned into a simple press of mouths, breathing together but focused on something else as Herobrine trailed his hand down lightly until he pressed one finger against Steve’s hole. Steve instantly tensed at the unusual sensation.

“Relax,” Herobrine mumbled into his mouth.

“It’s…hard,” he replied, taking deep breaths and willing his body to loosen up. Herobrine kept his finger there, letting Steve slowly adjust to the feel of it, until he deemed enough time to have passed and was able to push in halfway. Steve made a face but it didn’t hurt, just felt uncomfortable and weird like Herobrine said it would.

“Okay?” Herobrine asked. Steve half-shrugged, but the death grip he had on Herobrine’s shoulders probably gave him away.

“Not really,” he said, voice strained. “But…not bad.”

Herobrine gave him a quick, reassuring kiss. “It’ll get better.”

Now that he was actually in this position, he doubted it. He’d read that anal sex felt good, but he didn’t see how. Still, he wouldn’t chicken out. They were about to be connected in the closest, most intimate way possible. He shivered just thinking about it.

Luckily it didn’t hurt, as Herobrine moved his finger in and out with slow, even thrusts. Steve gradually relaxed further despite the intrusion, which, while it wasn’t providing mind blowing pleasure, still didn’t feel that bad. He just had to breathe and constantly force himself to relax.

After a few minutes during which Steve was able to keep himself relatively loose—better than before, in any case—Herobrine lifted himself back into a sitting position. He still moved his finger steadily, never broke the rhythm Steve was getting used to, even when he placed his other hand on Steve’s chest and slowly dragged it down, raking his nails lightly across his skin and raising goosebumps in its wake.

Herobrine’s hand skimmed all the way down his body until it reached his cock. The loose grasp he had around it wasn’t enough to push Steve anywhere close to orgasm but it was enough to thoroughly distract him from being fingered open. He tried pushing his hips up, to get more of that sensual slide of skin on skin but Herobrine would let go of his cock every time he did, leaving him to flop back on the bed. It moved the finger inside him more than Herobrine had been doing, but he barely cared with how frustrated he felt being teased with such direct pleasure. He groaned, glaring weakly down at Herobrine.

“No fair,” he totally didn’t whine, nor pout when Herobrine just smile smugly like the charming bastard he was and replaced his hand, this time to jerk him off properly. Steve closed his eyes and shuddered, moaning lowly at each pulse of pleasure.

He’d almost forgotten about the finger stretching him open until he felt a second one being pushed in next to it. Despite how used he’d gotten to the first one, he couldn’t help but tense immediately. Herobrine gave him a flat look.

“Need I say it?”

“I know, I know, it’s just…gimme a second.”

Herobrine did, when both fingers were pushed in all the way. Steve made a face and wiggled, furrowing his brow at the strange sensation. More weird than one finger by far, much more uncomfortable for sure, but not painful like he was expecting. It was either because of his body allowing the intrusion or because of the hand on his cock. Considering the jolts of pleasure shooting along his nerves with every stroke of Herobrine’s hand, perhaps it was the latter.

Between his free-flowing moans and bitten off whines, he managed to gasp out, “When—When does—nngh, a-ah.” He could barely speak through all the stimulation, torn between focusing too much on the fingers, the way they felt going in and out of him, or not at all, letting himself enjoy the sharp pleasure from the hand on his cock. Despite Herobrine’s claim that he would cum multiple times by the time they were through, he didn’t actually want to do that. He already felt like if he came again he was going to be too tired and sated to go again, and all they’d managed to do was get to fingering. But he wanted to go all the way. This was their moment and he didn’t want his inexperience to ruin it.

Luckily—somehow—Herobrine understood. Steve watched in a daze as Herobrine let go of his cock and raised himself onto his knees, leaning over a bit and pressing his hand against Steve’s lower stomach.

“W-Wha—ah!” He didn’t get the chance to even begin to question Herobrine’s actions when his entire body jerked at the pure, intense pleasure that shot through him. He fisted the sheets, twisting them in his grasp and arching as much as Herobrine’s hand would let him. His mind felt muddy and his thoughts came sluggishly, solely focused on the pleasure and how it curled sweetly around his core, sent tingles from his head to the tips of his toes. It was so blindingly intense he didn’t think twice about trying to move his hips to find it again.

“Just like I told you, right?” Herobrine’s voice said, though Steve could barely understand what he was saying through the blood rushing through his head and the pleasure singing through his body. A little idle chit-chat didn’t register as high on his priority meter.

Even when he felt a third finger push in next to the other two, a strange twinge shooting up his spine, another press to that spot inside him sent him reeling, gasping and pushing his hips down for more. It felt so good he didn’t realize Herobrine had paused until he felt a hand cup his jaw and tilt his head up, and Herobrine’s mouth pressed to his. He relented immediately to the tongue licking into his mouth, letting go of the sheets to grab onto Herobrine wherever he could reach, digging his nails into his arms, shoulders, back. He whined into the kiss, gasping after another press inside him.

“Hero…Hero…” He chanted breathlessly, when Herobrine pulled away. The hand on his jaw remained, as did Herobrine’s weight atop him. He dug his nails into the skin at Herobrine’s back, unwilling to let him go.

“Fuck, you don’t know how hard it is for me to keep from plowing your brains out,” Herobrine said, voice tight as his fingers continued thrusting in and out, periodically pushing into that spot that made Steve see stars.

Steve just lifted his legs and hooked his ankles at Herobrine’s lower back, pulling their bodies closer, half-delirious with pleasure. His cock, now trapped between their bodies, was rock hard and drooling pre-cum onto his own stomach. He was afraid that one more touch might do it for him.

“Yes, yes, please,” he moaned, not fully understanding what he was agreeing to but he just…needed more. Needed Herobrine.

He felt Herobrine’s hand on his face tighten briefly before he let go and sat up, easily breaking out of Steve’s hold despite his protest. But then he groaned when the fingers inside him pulled out, leaving him strangely empty. He finally opened his eyes to watch as Herobrine leaned over to grab the oil, pouring more onto his fingers before slicking up his cock. Steve’s breathing hitched and his heart skipped a beat when Herobrine grabbed his hip, stroking his hand over his own cock slowly as he stared down with a thoughtful expression.

“You should turn onto your stomach. That’ll be the easiest position for you,” Herobrine instructed, but Steve shook his head.

“I want to see you,” he said honestly. Herobrine’s eyes widened a bit, as if surprised to hear that. Steve didn’t know why—he liked looking at Herobrine.

“Okay, fuck, hold on.” He reached up and took the other pillow that was sitting unused. “Lift your hips.”

Steve obliged, and the pillow was tucked under his bottom, giving him a support to rest on. It also put his lower half more level with Herobrine’s and he blushed, realizing what it was for. But Herobrine’s quick accommodation was endearing.

Then there was a moment where they both sat in silence, knowing what was about to happen. Herobrine took his own cock in hand again and put his other hand on Steve’s inner thigh, pushing it up a bit.

“Are you ready?” Herobrine asked. While Steve appreciated the warning, he kinda wanted Herobrine to just get it over with, so Steve wouldn’t have to think about it. But if he just thought about the pleasure he knew was possible, he felt confident enough to continue without a second thought.

“Yes,” he answered firmly. He reached up and cupped Herobrine’s face, drawing it down and pressing a kiss to his lips. He tried to convey his emotions in the moment, keeping the kiss slow and sensual. There was some trepidation of course, but he mostly felt happy and excited.

He took a deep breath when they separated. Herobrine pulled away enough to look at his face and Steve saw him swallow heavily, his expression unreadable to him.

Without another word, Herobrine lined up his cock and started pressing in slowly. Steve didn’t know why Herobrine bothered asking him if he was ready—without having done this before, there was no way he could be ready for the feeling of being stretched open by a cock. His face scrunched up in discomfort but he powered through it, knowing that it would feel better. His own arousal was waning in the face of this unpleasant feeling but perhaps that was a blessing. He’d felt far too close to the edge before this.

Herobrine’s hand wrapping around his cock made it a little more bearable, as he stroked it evenly. He gave a stuttered moan and bit his lip hard at the strange mix of pleasure and pain coursing through him.

“Fuck you’re tight,” Herobrine commented with a low moan. Steve looked down at where they were connected, heavy blush on his cheeks and panting for breath as he stared in a daze. Herobrine did the same. There was a blush painting his cheeks red as he looked down at them as well, before his gaze caught Steve’s and he smiled.

“I’m going to move alright? Tell me if you need me to stop.”

Steve merely nodded, not trusting his voice. He didn’t even know if Herobrine was in all the way, but he felt like he was one move from screaming—whether in pleasure or pain he didn’t know.

Thankfully Herobrine moved slowly, though it looked like it pained him to do so. He’d shifted his grip to Steve’s hips, keeping them steady as he thrusted shallowly. He vaguely recalled Herobrine mentioning earlier that he usually wasn’t so considerate during sex. He was glad this time was the exception. The slow drag of his cock as it pulled out nearly all the way and then pushed back in was a sensation Steve didn’t think he could handle at any faster a pace. The pleasure from Herobrine’s fingers was nowhere to be found but it wasn’t…unbearable. Just supremely uncomfortable.

However, as Herobrine built up a steady rhythm, Steve gradually relaxed into it. Eventually Herobrine was able to slide all of his cock inside, and though the pace was still slow, the grip he had on Steve’s hips indicated just how torturous it must have been for him. They felt like they would bruise. But overall he wasn’t really hurting, so Steve felt comfortable enough to say quietly, “You can go faster.”

Herobrine looked at him like he was his savior. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm,” he agreed with a nod. He was pretty sure, at least.

Herobrine didn’t need to be told twice. He used his grip to lift Steve’s hips into a better position for himself and started thrusting faster. Steve grabbed onto Herobrine’s forearms tightly, almost regretting his decision when he felt that wonderful shot of pleasure pulse through his entire body. He gasped and threw his head back.

“O-Ooooh,” he moaned, body trembling. It was one singular jolt of pleasure but he was already desperate for another, starting to push his hips into each thrust. Herobrine groaned when he did so, increasing the strength and speed behind his thrusts as he lost himself in his own pleasure. Steve made little gasps and sounds as each thrust jolted him on the bed.

“Hero,” he sighed out, sliding his hands up, tugging a bit to encourage Herobrine to lean close to him. He happily obliged, breathing noticeably heavier and skin feeling warmer than usual to the touch.

“Steve,” Herobrine panted out, letting go of his hips to support himself with a hand on either side of Steve’s head.

“Kiss me,” he breathed, half-begging as he wrapped his legs around Herobrine’s hips again and moaned at another press to that spot inside him. “Kis—mngh.”

Herobrine cut him off with a press of their mouths, slipping his tongue into Steve’s and absolutely dominating the kiss. Steve was quickly getting lost in that pleasurable haze and let everything happen without much rebuttal on his part, emotionally and physically overwhelmed in the best way possible. He clung to Herobrine, dragging his nails down his back as the position forced Herobrine to make short, deep thrusts that lit up his nerves and stoked the fire of pleasure burning in his gut.

With little whines and sounds of urgency Steve tried to convey his lack of oxygen, and when the kiss broke, Herobrine wasted no time in shifting his attention down. His mouth skimmed along Steve’s neck, biting where he saw fit and kissing away the sting. He trailed all the way to a shoulder, where he dug his teeth in and gave a muffled moan. Steve moaned in tandem at the faint ache left behind by Herobrine’s mouth, dragging one of his hands back up to slide into the strands of hair at the back of Herobrine’s head, gripping tightly. His body was one large nerve pulsing in pleasure with every rapid beat of his heart. The spring of arousal coiled tight at his core threatened to break any moment as Herobrine’s deep, even thrusts brushed against that wonderful spot inside him.

“Steve…I’m not going to last much longer,” Herobrine admitted, panting his strained words into the flesh of Steve’s shoulder. It sent a shiver down his spine and he tensed on instinct, causing Herobrine to moan. “F-Fuck.”

“M-Me neither,” Steve breathed, winding his arms around Herobrine’s neck and hugging him close. Honestly he was surprised to have lasted as long as he had. Perhaps the lack of direct stimulation to his cock attributed to it. Not that he minded. He’d never felt so good, physically or emotionally. To have someone in his life that he could trust, that he could love and in return be loved—it was a dream come true. The realization that it was a reality might never cease to make him smile.

“Please, please, I’m close, please, H-Herobrine—oooh!”

Herobrine wedged a hand between their bodies to find his cock and he was gone after just a few strokes, electric pleasure shooting through his body as his orgasm slammed into him. He gasped and held onto Herobrine tightly as they continued to move through his climax. Just when his body was starting to reject the pleasure, Herobrine pulled out of his grasp to sit up and pull out, jerking his cock roughly with a bitten off curse until he came, painting Steve’s stomach and inner thighs with his cum.

The silence left in their wake of their coupling was broken only by their panting breaths. Steve had his eyes closed as he came down from the pleasure high. Little tingles of lingering pleasure danced across his nerves, leaving him satisfied to lay there limp and bask in the afterglow.  When he felt Herobrine shift between his legs he opened his eyes. Herobrine’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose were stained red, and his hair was wild and messy from Steve’s previous grip on it. The sight of him so lacking in composure was almost enough to entice Steve to go again once he recovered but he just felt too exhausted and sated.

Instead he smiled tiredly.

“Does it…always feel…that good?” He asked between breaths, opening his arms and accepting Herobrine into a hug when the other practically collapsed on top of him with a groan.

“Is it corny of me to say when it’s me it is?” Came Herobrine’s response, muffled into the skin of Steve’s neck. He chuckled, trailing his fingertips lightly along Herobrine’s back. Herobrine hummed in contentment, cuddling him harder. Steve jerked and laughed softly when hot breath tickled at his neck.

After a few moments Herobrine pulled away from him, rolling onto his side and propping his head up to look down at him. He didn’t say anything immediately, which made Steve feel just the slightest bit self-conscious. It didn’t help that Herobrine could be frustratingly unreadable sometimes.

“What?” He finally asked with a smile. Herobrine returned it.

“I just like looking at you,” he said lightly, and Steve rolled his eyes in jest. But he returned the sentiment anyway because it was true.

“I like looking at you too.”

“Good. I’m glad we settled that,” he said, leaning forward to kiss him. It was slow and sensual, a gradual sliding of their tongues together as they kept it light. Still, Steve couldn’t help turning a bit to his side to face Herobrine and lift a hand to grab onto his upper arm. Herobrine too didn’t bother denying himself as he lifted his hand to cup Steve’s cheek, as if unable to resist touching him.

When he pulled away, there was another peculiar expression on his face. Steve might say it was vaguely worried if that didn’t sound completely absurd.

“Seriously though, it felt good? Was everything okay?” It was said completely genuine and Steve could almost feel his feelings for this man deepen.

“Having no idea what to expect, I would say it felt more than good,” he answered honestly. The aftermath might feel a little rough—his bottom half was faintly aching, which he hoped didn’t worsen—and parts of his neck and shoulder felt tender, but overall he didn’t think he could deny that he enjoyed the experience. And not just physically. Emotionally he felt—complete, in this quiet afterglow. Like a part of him had been permanently assuaged.

“Good,” Herobrine said firmly with a nod. “I want to make sure you get the full experience before I absolutely ruin you.”

Despite their positions—he had cum cooling on his body for Gods’ sake—he blushed at Herobrine’s crude words.

Speaking of…

“Is this part of that?” He asked, touching his stomach lightly and trying to avoid the cum. Herobrine glanced down and didn’t look the least bit ashamed of his actions.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “But I wasn’t sure if you would be okay with me cuming inside and I was too far gone to bother asking.”

Steve hummed in acknowledgement. He wasn’t sure either, though the thought of having Herobrine’s release inside him didn’t repulse him. Quite the opposite.

“I…” He hesitated, unable to believe he was really going to say it. “I don’t think I’d mind. I kinda like the idea.”

The look on Herobrine’s face made his cock give a valiant and weak twitch. Herobrine leaned over him and grabbed his jaw, tilting his face up to say lewdly into his mouth, “You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you until you can’t think and fill you up so much it leaks out.”

Steve blushed so hard his ears felt hot. “We’ll just have to see about next time, won’t we?” And didn’t his heartbeat just about triple at that thought. Next time.

“I guess we will,” Herobrine growled in agreement, then kissed him hard, though he chose not to invade Steve’s mouth and instead let him meet him in the middle. When they separated, Steve took a deep breath and Herobrine shifted onto his back to pull Steve half atop him. With a satisfied hum as Herobrine returned the favor from earlier and dragged his fingers lightly over Steve’s back, Steve sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the moment.

Herobrine pressed a kiss to his hair.

“Love you,” he said quietly. Steve’s heart swelled with emotion as he lifted his head up, laying his chin on Herobrine’s chest and smiling at him happily.

“I love you too.”

Alex was a little worried about Herobrine’s hearing, but if this was how she was going to be found out, she didn’t think she would really mind.

Still, she had a hand clamped over her mouth, though it was more as a formality at this point than anything.

Since they couldn’t return to the inn on account of Mirai possibly being seen, they’d ventured into the forest around the village. Mirai had wasted no time in pushing her against a tree and attacking her with kisses, wedging a thigh between her legs for good measure. With how long it’d been since they’d seen each other, Alex didn’t push her away, instead she wrapped her arms around Mirai’s neck and returned with equal force the enthusiasm behind their actions.

Which lead to this moment, where Mirai was enjoying sucking marks into various spots along her neck and had clever fingers rubbing at her clit through the front of her pants. The jolts of arousal that pulsed through her core when Mirai rubbed just right made high pitched, desperate moans escape from her mouth.

When Mirai’s hand slipped under her waistband and smoothed down the front of her lower stomach, Alex moaned unabashedly and clung to her girlfriend, pushing her body closer for more.

“Mirai, please, don’t…tease me—a-ah!” With a wicked smirk that she could feel against her neck, Mirai tucked her fingers between the folds of her pussy and moved them slowly, rhythmically. A bright blush bloomed across Alex’s cheeks as Mirai teased dipping her fingers inside, pushing without enough force to breech.

“You say not to tease you but your body is so wet for me,” Mirai said, drawing back from her neck to look down at what she was doing. There was a dusting of a blush on her cheeks, only visible thanks to her pale skin. When she looked up her brilliant green eyes sparkled with mischief. “So what am I to believe?”

“You better believe if you don’t get your tongue inside me right now you’ll be sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future,” Alex faux-threatened. Mirai gasped over-dramatically and put a hand over her heart.

“I suppose I have no choice. Woe is me.” But she seemed anything but sad as she knelt. Alex followed suit and laid back against the tree, half propped up so she could still see Mirai if she wanted. Considering they were outside in the middle of some random forest, they had to be relatively quick about this, as anyone could walk in on them and Alex did not want that to happen. Mirai, freak that she was, probably wouldn’t mind having an audience as she completed obliterated Alex’s decency and took her apart methodically with tongue and fingers, but Alex could think of nothing less appealing.

It was unfortunate, that they couldn’t take their time, reacquaint themselves with their bodies, spend a pleasant and satisfying moment in bed. But such was their life. This wasn’t the first time they’d have sex rushed and outside and it wouldn’t be the last.

Mirai smiled so prettily as she pulled the waistband of Alex’s pants down, urging her to lift her bottom to slide the fabric to her knees. Despite having been in this exact position many times before, she couldn’t help the feelings of indecency, slight embarrassment, and excitement that coursed through her. They were being so naughty, but she loved every second of it.

Mirai ducked her head under Alex’s pants, essentially trapping herself, face mere inches from her prize. She still had on that beaming smile as she brought her hands up to drag under Alex’s shirt and find her breasts, squeezing and kneading the malleable flesh. Alex gave a breathy moan and settled her hands on Mirai’s shoulders, shifting one to cup her cheek and offer her a soft smile.

“I love you,” she sighed happily, and Mirai giggled.

“I love you too. Now, let’s see…”

Mirai trailed off as she closed the distance between herself and Alex, dragging the flat of her tongue over the whole of Alex’s pussy before wiggling it inside. She closed her eyes and hummed, moving her tongue chaotically to keep Alex guessing on her next movement. Alex instantly lowered her hand to the back of Mirai’s head, cupping the nape of her neck as she tilted her head back and moaned freely to the forest, letting her cries of pleasure be known. It incentivized Mirai as she pressed her face as far as it could go to wiggle her tongue deep inside. Her hands crept around Alex’s thighs to keep her bottom steady.

Alex cupped her own breast with one hand, shuddering at the extra arousal. She could feel her body being pushed closer and closer to orgasm as Mirai’s tongue kept it’s rhythm inside her. Perhaps their time apart was a factor in her body’s early and eager rush for release.

“Are you gonna cum?” Mirai asked, pulling away briefly to take in the sight of her. “Are you gonna be my good girl and cum for me?” Her pink open mouth descended right where Alex wanted her most, sucking her clit into that moist heat and lathing her tongue hard against it, up and down, side-to-side until Alex squeezed her thighs tightly around Mirai’s head and cried out as she came.

There were stars behind her eyes as she came down from the brief high. She toed off one of her boots and tugged her leg out of her pants, leaving Mirai free to crawl up her body until their mouths could slot together. Her blush deepened as she thought about where the tongue mapping out her teeth had just been.

Pressed so close like this, Mirai lower her hips to rub her sex teasingly against Alex’s. It was a surface level arousal, the barest friction against her clit, but it was enough to keep the flame of arousal alive as her body started to ramp up the pleasure again. Already she felt more relaxed than she had in the last two or three weeks, and she was sure Mirai had more planned for her. She shivered in aroused excitement just thinking about it.

“I can’t wait until we can be home together,” Mirai said, trailing her fingers down the front of Alex’s chest and stomach, until they teased again at her entrance. She arched a bit, staring down in a pleasant haze, biting her lip at the light touch.

“I miss having our toys to play with. Just imagine me getting nice…and…deep,” Mirai whispered filthily as she finally tucked her fingers inside, two sliding in and making Alex cry out and cling to her girlfriend. Mirai’s fingers worked fast to reach as much of her as possible, pressing and rubbing against her sensitive walls.

Her moans and whines of pleasure were cut off when Mirai pressed their mouths together, slipping her tongue inside. Alex closed her eyes and made small sounds of pleasure, starting to rotate her hips in little jerks.

Mirai pulled back briefly, licking her lips as her heated gaze soaked in Alex’s reactions. Alex for her part was quickly losing her ability to think coherently, the pleasure of release the only thing going through her mind right now. “Mir—mnh.” Her words were cut off by Mirai fully connecting their mouths again, swallowing down all her cries of pleasure.

The fingers inside her pussy sped up, thrusting in and out with a purpose. She keened loudly and grabbed onto Mirai’s arms, then her shoulders, digging her nails into her back as her body was racked with pleasure. She pulled Mirai closer to her, moaning.

“That’s it, that’s my girl. Fuck, I missed you so much,” Mirai breathed, continuing to thrust her fingers quickly. Alex moaned, body jerking with little shots of hot pleasure.

“Mir—Mirai a-ah, oooh fuck!” She jerked a little too hard and her body slid sideways from the tree, ending up with her laying on the ground and Mirai on top of her. Her fingers slipped out and Alex whined, clenching automatically around nothing. Mirai smirked wickedly at the position and nudged her way properly between Alex’s legs, spreading them open before replacing her fingers, thrusting them just as furiously as before. Alex gasped and threw her head back, gripping the grass beneath her tightly.

After a few moments the pleasure spiked tellingly through her, encouraging her to roll her hips into Mirai’s fingers, eager for more. Mirai’s other hand snuck under her shirt and grabbed her breast, squeezing and tweaking her nipple. The electric pleasure coursed through her, amplified by her happiness at having Mirai here with her again, even if only for a few hours.

With a chuckle Mirai suddenly slowed her movements, leisurely sliding her fingers in and out, in and out, even but not nearly satisfying enough for Alex. It forced the pleasure to simmer somewhat, when all she wanted was to come again as soon as possible.

“Mir..ai…please…” she panted, reaching for her girlfriend. It was too much and not enough. Her mind warred with itself, torn between instant satisfaction or spending a few more precious minutes with the love of her life. Mirai shushed her and placed an open mouthed kiss to her cheek, then lowered her attention to Alex’s neck, biting and sucking more marks into it.

“Does it feel good?” She whispered hotly into the flesh of Alex’s neck.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes. Babe, please! Ah! Yes!”

Mirai obliged, fucking her fingers quicker, thrusting them as deep as she could and wiggling them inside. Alex arched her back and nearly screamed as her orgasm ripped through her. Mirai slowed her movements, letting the pleasure pulse through Alex’s body fully without any sour effects of overstimulation.

After several moments wherein Alex focused on breathing and Mirai gradually stopped the movement of her fingers, they both looked at each other and smiled.

“Wow. You must have missed me a lot,” Alex commented, brushing a hand over her forehead to push her loosened hair back. With them being in a taiga, the heat from her core helped combat the brisk breeze, and with Mirai pressed mostly along her front, she felt warm, safe, and sated.

Mirai laughed. “What gave me away?”

Alex sighed happily, settling onto her back fully and pulling Mirai completely on top of her. She cupped one of Mirai’s cheeks and pulled her down for a gentle kiss.

“I love you,” she said quietly. Mirai smiled into the kiss.

“I love you more.”

“No you don’t.”

Mirai laughed. “Okay, sure.” She rolled her eyes for good measure and Alex huffed. With a sudden move she switched their positions, running her hands lightly down Mirai’s front to sneak under her shirt and hike it up on her way to cupping both her breasts. Mirai’s moan was like music to her ears and sent a shiver of arousal through her body as she smiled deviously down at her girlfriend.

“I guess I’ll just have to show you,” she commented casually, snaking one of her hands beneath the waistband of Mirai’s pants. Mirai whined and grabbed her thighs, breath hitching when Alex’s fingers teased at her pussy.

“You can try,” Mirai challenged, and Alex was determined to do just that. She still wanted to meet with Adelaide and then she had to return to the boys but…they could wait. She wanted nothing more to see Mirai lose herself to pleasure like Alex had.

“You’re going to regret those words,” Alex retorted, and got to work.

Chapter Text

The room was a comfortable warm. Outside, birds chirped and flew past the window, singing to each other. Periodic chatter from outside rose up, a joyous laugh or angry swear. Perfect background noise to accompany the faint buzzing in Steve’s head as he laid on the bed with his eyes closed and breathed peacefully.

After several minutes of cuddling, and after being roused from an almost sleep, Steve had obliged when Herobrine nudged him aside to get up. He happily flopped onto his back, only wincing a little bit as his lower half protested. He might have truly fallen asleep if he hadn’t felt a tentative touch of dampness on his bare stomach. He took a deep breath and hummed in contentment, squirming when what he presumed was a wet cloth slid along his inner thighs. His cheeks heated slightly when he felt himself twitch in vague interest despite his body’s general rejection of the idea.

“Ready again so soon?” Herobrine said and Steve could hear the self-satisfied smirk in his tone.

“No,” he said lazily, stretching the word out with a groan. “I might actually pass out.”

He heard Herobrine laugh softly, and the touch remained innocent, simple cleaning and nothing more. Steve enjoyed the gentle motions, feeling himself slowly start to sink down into slumber. Until he was pulled away again when Herobrine climbed back into bed.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, pulling the covers over them and drawing Steve close to his side with a firm arm. Steve went willingly, laying half on top of his boyfriend while he struggled to stay awake enough to converse.

“‘Bout wha’?” Steve mumbled into his chest, pressing his face against it and bringing his arms up to loosely hug around Herobrine’s neck.

“For keeping you up. I can tell you want to sleep.”

Steve made a noncommittal hum as he hovered on the edge of consciousness. “Prolly just ‘cause I di’n’t sleep much last night.”

If Herobrine said anything in return, Steve didn’t hear it as his mind finally gave in and allowed him rest.

When he woke up he felt marginally better, though he got the feeling not too much time had passed. The light in the room was the same, as was his and Herobrine’s position on the bed. The only difference was the light tracing of fingers along his back. He lifted his head to look up at Herobrine, who had a far away look on his face.

Unbidden, the scene he’d experienced in the bathroom earlier that morning flashed through his mind, and he felt, now more than ever, that he should say something about it. There was no point in keeping secrets from Herobrine, nor did he feel he should be worrying about bothering him with his concerns. If he looked inwards, it was clear that he would want Herobrine to tell him if something troubled him to the caliber that his vision had troubled him, and he would feel…not cheated, per say, but something along those lines to discover that Herobrine had kept from telling him something like that. He would want to be given the opportunity to comfort Herobrine, so why shouldn’t he offer the same for his boyfriend?

“…Herobrine?” He asked quietly. He hated to disturb the peaceful silence but it was for a good cause.

“Hm?” He answered though his expression remained distant.

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This morning, when I got up to use the bathroom, I saw…something in the mirror.” He had to swallow the lump in his throat as he was reminded of the gruesome scene of his own throat slit.

“What do you mean? What’d you see?”

“I was washing my hands and when I looked up, my reflection wasn’t right. Instead of what it should have been, it was just standing there and staring at me, and behind it there was no bathroom, just blackness. Then, in the reflection, I lifted a broken iron sword and s—slit my own throat.” He grimaced as he said it. It sounded worse when he said it out loud—too real, too…crazy.

Herobrine’s fingers paused their slow tracing along his back, and he looked down at him, brows furrowed.

“That’s…” He hesitated, probably thinking of something he could say that wasn’t insensitive, though Steve wouldn’t blame him.

“Crazy?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. With all the shit we’ve gone through in the last week, that actually sounds pretty normal.”

Steve smiled a bit, but there wasn’t much amusement behind it. “I guess that’s true. Still, do you think we should worry? Or could it have been a one-off?”

Herobrine stared at him silently for a few seconds until he shifted on the bed, scooting down so he could lay his head on the pillow, the two of them now directly face to face. Beneath the covers, Herobrine’s hand found his and laced their fingers together.

“I think that whatever it is, whether it happens again or not, we can face it together,” he said seriously.

Steve smiled more genuinely, squeezing Herobrine’s hand. “I like the sound of that.” It might still take some getting used to, relying on another person for comfort, but in his opinion, it was well worth the risk, with Herobrine.

“Me too,” Herobrine returned, closing the distance between them to press a chaste kiss to his mouth.

There were a few quiet moments between them, just basking in each other’s presence, when Herobrine spoke again.

“I think…I think I want to stop looking for my village.”

Steve couldn’t hide his surprise. “Really? Why?” Steve didn’t care one way or the other, and he’d thought Herobrine wanted to find that shred of familiarity that was lost to him after so long imprisoned in the Nether and lied to by the Wither. Connecting with his past seemed like as good a way to do that than any.

“I realized that I’m trying to hold onto a past that doesn’t mean anything to me. I barely remember my life before the Nether and even if I did, I’m not that person anymore.” Herobrine looked clearly into his eyes and brought a hand up to cup his cheek. “And I realized that I don’t need to look for my past if you’re what my future has to offer.”

Steve didn’t know quite what to say in the face of such honest affection. He felt his heart ache with emotion, swelling with love and admiration, his cheeks staining pink with happiness. He threw his arms around Herobrine’s neck and hugged him tightly, their mouths naturally finding each other’s.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll support you no matter what,” he said firmly, pulling back to show Herobrine the determination in his expression. He felt whole-heartedly that no matter what Herobrine wanted to do with his life, Steve would be there alongside him, supporting and rooting for him. And he had the feeling that Herobrine would do the same for him.

Herobrine gave him a smile that spoke of his gratitude to have Steve’s immediate support. “Thank you.”

Steve nodded, though a thought did cross his mind. “What are we gonna tell Alex?”

At that, Herobrine sighed, then made a thoughtful expression. “I figure being honest is the best course of action. She’s a grown woman, she’ll understand. And now that we don’t have a direction in mind, she can go back to doing…whatever she does. Probably go back to her ‘girlfriend,’” he said, rolling his eyes and bringing his hands up to add air quotes.

Steve actually felt a little bad, at the prospect of leaving Alex. He hadn’t known her for that long, but she was the first person in a long time to just…not give a fuck about his eyes. Definitely the only person besides Herobrine he could think of, in any case. And she was funny and had a sharp wit, never afraid to fire back a quick retort.

He’d miss her. The odds of meeting again would be astronomically low. But it was time to move on.

“When do you want to tell her?” Steve asked.

Strangely enough, Herobrine’s perplexed expression was not what Steve expected. “All things considered, we should leave tonight. Hell, right now even. Too many weird coincidences. But I also feel like it would do you good to sleep in a real bed for another night. You know, to, ah…recuperate.” As he said it, his hand snaked down below the covers and slid over Steve’s hip to grab his bottom, giving it a brief squeeze. Though his face heated, he merely raised a brow, but he couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips.

“How considerate of you,” he teased lightly. Herobrine shrugged like it was no big deal.

“I try.”

He pulled his hand back, but only enough so it was resting on Steve’s hip, thumbing rubbing lightly against his skin.

He kinda wanted to stay another night too. Not for the reason Herobrine was insinuating, but just because he didn’t know when he’d be able to sleep in another real bed again. But Herobrine’s other point was just as valid—too much weird shit going down. Maybe leaving tonight would be for the best.

“Can we decide later?” He suggested, pushing himself up and smiling down at Herobrine. He was enjoying cuddling but their previous activities and the general heat of Herobrine’s body was making him feel too sweaty for his liking. He got off the bed and stretched, expecting to feel worse but standing was…okay. Definitely bearable. And he only felt a little embarrassed about being naked, and really only because he was unused to it. “I feel like I need a shower.”

“With company?” Herobrine asked hopefully, pushing himself up too. Though it was a little hard to be sure, Steve got the feeling Herobrine’s eyes weren’t on his face.

“If you can behave,” Steve said somewhat seriously. Herobrine smirked and got up, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders as he started leading them to the bathroom.

“Well, no promises,” he said, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple, then using his powers to light the lantern in the bathroom. “You know what I say—I won’t do anything if you don’t tempt me.”

Steve snorted and shoved him playfully towards the shower to get it started.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Herobrine shot him a playful look over his shoulder.

Steve shook his head and happened to glance at the mirror. At the same time he felt uneasy at the sight of his own reflection, he couldn’t help but gawk at the state of himself.

His neck had various small dark spots, not incredibly noticeable but present all the same, the complete opposite to the larger bite mark on his shoulder. Now that he was looking at it, he could feel the faint ache of it pulsing in time with his heart. The same small dark spots littered his chest, concentrated mostly around his nipples. There were also dark splotches of bruising around his hips, not quite handprints but Steve was sure he’d be able to place all of Herobrine’s fingers where the bruising was heaviest. He blushed a little, touching the marks lightly. He didn’t know until this exact moment but he kinda liked seeing proof of their time together. He didn’t think he would, but now that he’d actually had sex and felt how good it could be, he understood a little more how people could want it so badly. If he didn’t think he’d pass out from sheer exhaustion, he might have tackled Herobrine to the ground for another round already.

He was drawn out of his increasingly naughty thoughts by Herobrine stepping up to his side, his expression sheepishly guilty as he gestured with a light touch to the bruises.

“This is what I was worried about. When I said I hadn’t done this in a long time and I didn’t want to hurt you,” he explained. “I didn’t know if I would be able to keep my strength in check. Does it hurt?” And he looked so genuine, Steve had to quickly assure him to the contrary.

“I don’t even feel them,” he said, smiling up at Herobrine. “I didn’t feel them when they happened either, but you were doing a good job at distracting me.”

That at least mollified Herobrine’s concerns. “I can’t promise to always be that…controlled. You don’t make it easy.” He touched the bite mark, though his expression had receded from worried and was more proud if anything.

“I like seeing evidence that we were together. Proves it’s not just some elaborate dream, you know?” Steve admitted with only a little embarrassment.

Herobrine’s eyes narrowed and he slid his hand on Steve’s shoulder slowly down his back, pulling their bodies closer together. Behind him, the shower was starting to steam up the room.

“There you go, tempting me again. You can’t say things like that,” Herobrine said lowly. “Or you might have to deal with the consequences.” His hand stopped at Steve’s lower back, insinuating his meaning though Steve understood perfectly well what he meant. He smiled slyly.

“Well, there are…other ways we can solve that issue.” He’d read about a lot of different ways people could enjoy their time together, when the subject of sex first interested him. Truthfullly the thought of putting his mouth anywhere near anyone’s private parts wasn’t entirely appealing but…sex also hadn’t seemed appealing, and he’d learned quite the opposite about that. And there was still so much he’d yet to experience. Perhaps he should put his reservations aside until he and Herobrine could properly explore one another.

Herobrine looked at him with no small amount of wonder, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, before he grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him towards the shower.

“I swear you’re going to be the end of me. ‘Other ways?’ Do you know what your saying?”

Steve laughed as Herobrine all but shoved him into the shower and crowded him up against the wall, feeling the heat from the water and the look on Herobrine’s face flush his cheeks with pleasant warmth.

“I might have an idea or two,” he said innocently, causing Herobrine to sigh out a harsh breath and shake his head.

Then he did something that well and truly shocked Steve. He turned them so his back was to the spray and dropped to his knees, placing his hands on Steve’s hips to keep him firmly pressed against the tile.

“Let me just confirm we’re on the same page,” he said with a smirk, and Steve gulped, though his body was increasingly interested in the lessened space between it and Herobrine’s mouth.

Maybe he should have thought more before he spoke…

Adelaide kept her senses open as far as she could, searching for that strange signal of void Juneau had said was in this area. She couldn’t sense anything yet, but there was an ominous feeling scratching at the back of her mind. Hopefully that meant they were getting close.

She couldn’t help but glance over every couple of seconds at Jasmine. The petite girl always looked so delicate, like some fragile doll, it was strange seeing her out and about. Her powers could work at a distance and needed her concentration so she was usually inside or hidden away. That’s what surprised her so much about Juneau ordering Jasmine to accompany her. Not that Adelaide minded of course. She rarely got to interact with Jasmine but enjoyed it, despite how quiet the other typically was. Actually, entirely because of that, considering her partner was Mirai and she was a chatterbox if Adelaide had ever met one. Alex too, when she was around. The two were glued at the hip and never seemed to want there to be silence.

Lucky her.

Again her eyes drifted over to Jasmine. Her frame was small and delicate, dark skin smooth and youthful. The only outlier to her normally put together appearance was her hair—dark curls sat wild and untamable atop her head.

As always was the case, Jasmine sensed her gaze and looked over, offering her a small and polite smile.

“I enjoy being able to spend some time with you,” Jasmine started quietly, voice ringing like clear bells through the trees. Adelaide returned the smile.

“I feel the same, though—“

“You doubt Juneau?”

Adelaide furrowed her brows at the bold and direct accusation, returning her gaze straight ahead. She didn’t doubt Juneau per say, she was just apprehensive, like they all should be. If she had known he was going to act this way, she might not have told him about Herobrine being alive. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise though—who knew what he would have done if he’d found out she’d known and hadn’t told him. Sini’s lifeless body came to mind. 

“No, but I worry he’s blinded. Have you read Alex’s notes?”

Jasmine shook her head and Adelaide sighed.

“Juneau’s under the impression that Herobrine will join our cause. But that’s just not going to happen. At least, not easily.”

“Why not? Isn’t he like us? Wasn’t he the first of us?”

“Technically yes, but that’s where our similarities end. We don’t know why Herobrine summoned the Wither in the first place. It’s not like he left that information in his notes. But Alex says that he’s too attached to the human they’re with, Steve. She hasn’t heard them say it but she’s pretty sure he’s in love with Steve so, you can see where Juneau’s plan hits a snag.”

Jasmine made a thoughtful sound and the conversation lulled for a moment. Adelaide’s face pinched thinking about Juneau’s plan and it’s inevitable failure. If he didn’t change his mind about what to do with Steve, Herobrine would probably kill them all or die trying. Both unfavorable outcomes. But dying because Juneau was so blinded by ego or obsession that he couldn’t listen to reason was also unfavorable and left a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“By the way, how’d your test go?” Adelaide prompted. Better to think of her impending conversation with Juneau later and focus on lighter subjects.

However, Jasmine frowned. “Alarming. He feels different from us. The same in a lot of ways, but there’s something else to him, something stronger than what I’ve never felt before. He doesn’t sleep regularly and fought my influence. And even while unconscious, it was difficult to show him images or scenes. His mind rebelled, even when I made it a happy scene. He was able to break free easily from some outside stimulus.” When Jasmine looked over at her, Adelaide’s eyes widened in surprise at the fear hidden beneath that calm façade. “I’m afraid I will need direct contact with him, but I won’t be able to keep it up forever. And…” She looked away, hiding her expression. “I’m afraid of what Juneau will do. If I fail him, will he kill me, like he killed Sini?”

Adelaide stopped and turned to Jasmine, putting her hands on her shoulders and squeezing in support. “I won’t let him kill another of our kind, I promise. I believe there’s another way we can get Herobrine to obey by using Steve. It’s the only way that makes sense. If Alex is right, then he’ll have no choice but to play along to keep his human safe. I just need to convince Juneau of that.” Easier said than done, but with the other purple-eyed humans in their captivity currently, surely Juneau could find one less sacrifice acceptable.

Jasmine searched her face and she set as determined and resolute an expression as she could. Eventually Jasmine’s momentary lapse of composure faded and she nodded. Adelaide dropped her hands.

“Thank you Adelaide. I will of course try my best, but I’m comforted by your promise.”

Adelaide nodded as well and stepped back to give Jasmine some space as they started walking again. She was surprised to see Jasmine so openly afraid, but it wasn’t without warrant. Although the second biggest asshole of their group—only behind Blake—Sini was arguably their greatest weapon against Herobrine or other Withered, should any turn against them. Sini’s unique power enabled him to imbue anything he held with any power he wanted, including the ability to block their own powers. It was an instant and powerful way to quell the more dangerous foes they’d faced in the past. Marque could brew potions to a similar effect but they took time and weren’t instant and infinite like Sini’s power. So to see Juneau so thoughtlessly kill him for a slight lapse in judgement was distressing to say the least.

It was over an hour later after teleporting around that she finally felt something. They had entered the taiga biome housing the village Alex was staying at. She worried they might not be able to search as effectively as they had to be sure to stay away from the village so as not to alert Herobrine of their presence. But her fears were for naught, as there were two distinct void signatures she could sense, one an obvious enderman, the other completely confounding, and they were a good distance from the village. The strange presence felt like an amalgam of an enderman and pure void, along with the Wither’s presence. Actually, calling it ‘strange’ was putting it lightly—it felt impossible, especially because of the Wither’s presence. With Sini dead, the only other Withered it could be was Juneau or Marque, and she knew what they felt like. This wasn’t them.

“Is that what we’re here for?” Jasmine asked, sensing the same presence.

“Unfortunately. I had no idea it would feel so off though.”

Jasmine elected to remain quiet as they made one finally teleport to confront whatever the hell was out here.

However, when they appeared before the enderman and the strange figure, it jumped and cursed in a familiar voice.

“Holy fuck, where the hell did you two come from?”

Adelaide could only stare in shock tinged with a hint of disgust. Jasmine was equally as appalled by the creature that she just couldn’t believe was—

“Blake?”

It sounded like him, but that was about the only thing to identify him. His skin had turned ash gray, and his eyes glowed pure purple. He was also wearing different clothes from the last time she’d seen him.

He looked between the two of them, body tense. The enderman beside him was equally on edge.

“What are you doing here?” Blake demanded, more to her than to the both of them. “How did you find me?”

Adelaide could hardly believe what she was seeing. “It wasn’t hard once we got close enough. You light up like a beacon to our senses.”

Blake scowled at that information, grumbling something to himself. Adelaide finally shook herself free from her stupor, schooling her expression. Blake being alive and the source of the strange signal was confusing to be sure, but it was yet to be seen whether it was a bad thing. First things first though.

“What happened to you?” She asked. “Everyone thought you were dead.” It was the only explanation as to why he’d suddenly disappeared. He didn’t seem like the type to run off, and he’d been with the group for years before his disappearance. Like always, he’d been tasked with applying the runes onto their target, as being proficient in the enchanting language was his one claim of usefulness. He’d never shown signs of desertion despite his general dislike of everyone in their group. Although, she did know that he wanted the power the Wither offered and was becoming more and more frustrated the longer Juneau refused him. She just wondered how he’d ended up like this.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He said snidely, and she scoffed in annoyance. No matter what’d happened to him, he was still just as much as an asshole than ever, it seemed. “Now fuck off, I’m busy.”

“I don’t think so,” Adelaide argued, “You’re coming with us to see Juneau. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

“Fuck you, I’m not doing anything you say!” He snarled. “I’m sick of being told what to do and never getting anything for it!” He pulled something from his waistband and threw it at her. What looked to be a scroll landed pathetically on the ground in front of her. “Fuck Juneau and fuck the Wither, I’m done with all this bullshit! Take that and leave me alone.”

She didn’t know why she bothered wondering about him—it was better when he was missing. She’d forgotten how annoyingly self-centered he was.

“I don’t care what you want,” she said plainly, ignoring his growl. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

“The hell I am,” he said, and lunged at her. Or, at least, he tried, before the enderman beside him grabbed his collar and stopped him.

“You fucking piece of shit, let me go!” He yelled, struggling to get out of its grip. But it didn’t relent.

While she kept an eye on Blake and the enderman, Jasmine knelt and picked up the scroll. She opened it and made a thoughtful sound at its contents, then showed it to Adelaide. Her eyes widened at what she saw. Whatever Blake had gotten involved in, it was much, much bigger than him. She took the scroll from Jasmine and rolled it up, holding it tightly. Juneau would be most delighted to receive this. Her mind worked to figure out how to connect this information with convincing Juneau to keep Steve alive to deter Herobrine from killing them all.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Adelaide commented. “I would say it was nice seeing you but it really wasn’t. Unfortunately, I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

“Fuck off and die.”

She made a face and Jasmine giggled. “Charming,” was all Adelaide said to that, before looking at Jasmine and nodding. “Let’s go.”

They teleported away, enough to just barely sense Blake’s presence. Adelaide sighed, feeling her blood pressure start to lower now that she wasn’t around Blake.

“That was interesting,” Jasmine commented, and Adelaide groaned and wiped her hands down her face.

“That was painful. What a fucking…dickbag,” she cursed, frowning. She looked at the scroll in her hand. At least they’d gotten something worthwhile out of that encounter. With another sigh she looked up at the sky, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, recomposing herself.

“Okay. Let’s collect Mirai and return to Graven. Juneau’s going to want this information as soon as possible.”

Alex had always considered herself shameless, but even to her this might have been pushing it. Still, it was hard to care as she floated on the vestiges of pleasure still thrumming through her body.

She was laid out on the grass with her eyes closed, arms and legs stretched out, with her shirt pushed up around her neck and her pants tangled around one of her knees, exposing herself to whoever decided to stumble across them. The chances of that were low of course, but the point still stood. Mirai wasn’t much better off, clothing wise, with her shirt handing like a scarf around her neck, but she’d already shimmied back into her pants. She was sitting beside Alex, legs stretched out in front of her and hands planted behind her to support her upper body.

Alex just wanted to enjoy the freedom of being with her girlfriend for a little longer. Sue her for wanting the little things in life. Plus, she had time. The boys surely couldn’t expect her to find out the information they needed in one morning.

Alex shifted her hand blindly until it found Mirai’s and covered it, smiling to herself. Oh she couldn’t wait to get back home, to snuggle up with Mirai in their bed, light some candles, drink some wine. If she imagined hard enough she could almost convince herself she was there already.

However, the tranquility of the moment was ruined when the sound of teleporting alerted them to a presence. Alex opened her eyes and jolted upright, heart hammering in her chest as she was sure Herobrine had come to investigate all the noise they’d made.

It wasn’t Herobrine, but that would have been only marginally worse than seeing Adelaide and Jasmine. Adelaide raised a brow while Jasmine blushed and averted her gaze.

“Do you two know no shame? We’re in the middle of a forest. Too close to the village, might I add.” Alex was surprised to hear the genuine apprehension in her voice. “We have what we came for. We need to leave.”

“Ah, so soon? That was quick. We didn’t get to go a second round,” Mirai pouted, making a big deal out of putting her shirt back on properly. Alex brought her legs up to at least cover herself, feeling her cheeks warm. Less so about her state of undress and more so about it being Adelaide and Jasmine to catch her like this. She didn’t know Jasmine that well, but she respected Adelaide a lot. It was like her boss catching her naked.

“You shouldn’t even have gone a first round,” Adelaide admonished. “What if you’d been caught? You could have blown Alex’s cover, and then we’d have a whole other problem on our hands.”

Mirai did at least look guilty, and shot Adelaide puppy dog eyes. “I couldn’t help myself.” She looked over at Alex and smiled, and Alex returned it, feeling her heart warm with love. “I just missed her.”

Adelaide sighed and turned around. “I know. Now get dressed. Do you have anything new to report?”

Alex had never dressed faster in her life. “No. My point still stands from before. If we’re not able to convince Juneau of a different course of action, his plan’s gonna blow up in his face. In all our faces.”

“I might have a solution to that,” Adelaide commented. “But I’ll need your help with Juneau.”

Finally back in her clothes, she pulled her hair into a fast ponytail and felt a little more like herself. “You found what you were looking for?”

Adelaide glanced back at them and, seeing them in their clothes again, turned around. Jasmine too looked over though there was still a blush on her face.

“You won’t believe who I found as the source of that strange void signal,” Adelaide said wryly. “Blake.”

Alex was shocked to say the least. “What? But…” Where did she even begin? They had so many questions about him. Why didn’t he apply the correct runes to Steve? Where did he go after he carved them? What was his purpose in the first place? And why now had he returned?

“Yeah, I know. Just in case you were wondering, he’s still an asshole.”

Mirai chuckled, but Alex was stuck thinking on possibilities of what Blake’s actions could mean and why he’d suddenly reappear. And, what that information could mean for them.

“But he gave me something that could help us convince Juneau of an alternate course,” Adelaide continued, holding up a scroll. “Instructions from Herobrine’s Wither in the Nether.”

Both her and Mirai expressed their surprise, and Alex was already going through scenarios in her head. Depending on that information, if they could obtain a second Wither, Juneau’s plan could surely commence without Herobrine even being involved. They might have found the solution to their problem.

“Is it promising?” She asked. A different kind of excitement coursed through her. After weeks of traveling with the boys, slowly leading them along, it felt good to have a solid course of action.

“Yes and no. It appears to be information on summoning it back to the Overworld.”

“That sounds like the good news.”

“It directly mentions Herobrine.”

Alex frowned. Well there went that thought. She sighed. “Great. Well, considering at this point it seems like Herobrine’s involvement is inevitable, it’s just about convincing Juneau not to treat Steve like the others.”

“That was exactly my thought,” Adelaide agreed with a nod. She smiled. “Glad we’re on the same page. Do you have time to visit Graven?”

“Yes, I should have more than enough. I wasn’t planning on returning until nightfall.”

“Perfect. Then let’s go before we push our luck any further.”

Adelaide and Jasmine held out their hands, and Mirai and Alex took hold, letting the two girls teleport them home.

Blake struggled out of Buddy’s hold on his shirt and whipped around to glare at the tall bastard.

“What was that for! I was about to do something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.”

“Against two of them, you would have failed. You are like them but weaker, in some ways. Or perhaps newer is a more apt description. Is that right?”

Blake snorted and fixed his clothing, turning his back on the enderman to continue walking. He steadfastly ignored the sense of doom looming over him, ever since ridding himself of the scroll. The pain of punishment he’d felt from the Wither still lingered like a bad taste in the back of his throat. Still, it felt good to be so openly defiant. So what if they do whatever the hell the Wither wanted. Blake planned on being long gone by then.

“Whatever. I don’t need experience to punch someone across the face.”

“I simply worried you would be in an inadequate state in the aftermath. You have a mission, do you not?”

Blake grumbled to himself, choosing to ignore Buddy. As much as he was becoming accustomed to its presence, he also hated having to hear it speak. It was frustratingly right about everything.

“Well stop worrying,” he barked as it came up beside him. He glared at it, wondering when it had started walking next to him again after he clearly remembered telling it to stay away.

“I have been told that before and so far have found no reason to.“ It sounded bemused, causing Blake to clench his jaw. He needed to get a grip—he didn’t have to argue with a fucking mob, for Gods’ sake. He was above such things.

He elected to ignore it as he continued following the pull that lead him on. He was getting closer and he knew it. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.

Revenge was coming, and then he could leave all this crazy bullshit behind him.

The rest of the day passed slowly for Steve. After the shower and the spectacular and borderline religious experience he’d gone through from Herobrine showing just what, exactly, his mouth could do, he felt more worn and exhausted than before. But he felt better after the shower, and was curled up under the covers and drifting in and out of sleep. The restless sleep from the night before still plagued him, images from his dream lodging his heart in his throat. Anxiety crawled around the pit of his stomach if he thought too hard on what Herobrine’s voice had said to him. Even now, despite being more at peace with his relationship with Herobrine than ever before, the fact that it happened at all sent unease through him. Would he ever be free of those who’d wish to drive him and Herobrine apart by making him doubt Herobrine’s feeling and intentions towards him? He had faith, now, that he understood where he and Herobrine were in their relationship and where they were headed. He was excited to see what life could bring, now that he had someone he wanted to shared it with, and who wanted to be apart of it. But was it too much to ask for them to be left alone, well and truly? He feared so.

One thing he did know was that things had gotten worse since they’d set out on their journey. The fact that they’d met another like Herobrine was a bad sign, and too suspicious to overlook. Regardless of Alex’s odd behavior at times, Steve wanted to believe it was all just a coincidence. He was quick to give people the benefit of the doubt. But maybe, just this once, he could be selfish.

He sat up, taking stock of how his body felt. Rested, much more so than that morning. But more than that, his mind was made up. They should leave as soon as possible.

He looked over at the chairs, where Herobrine was sitting slouched into an uncomfortable looking position with a book open on his lap and a bored expression on his face. Next to him, through the window, the sky was just beginning to streak with the colors of an early sunset, bathing the room in the soft orange glow of late afternoon.

“I think we should leave,” he said without preamble. Herobrine looked up.

“Right now?” He asked, closing the book and shifting to a more upright position. Steve sighed, frowning and thinking about Alex. It hurt. But his mind was set.

“Or very soon. Maybe…maybe even without telling Alex.”

That definitely surprised Herobrine, who, although being more suspicious of her, understood that Steve considered her a friend. But if they never met again, what would it matter how they parted? Steve would just have to live with the guilt, but he was used to that.

“Really? I’m shocked to hear you suggest that. What brought this on?” Herobrine asked as he sat the book aside and made his way over to the bed. Steve pulled the covers back and sat on the edge, leaning against Herobrine when he did the same. He found Herobrine’s hand and grasped it tightly, squeezing for his own comfort. He smiled a bit when Herobrine squeezed back.

“I’m just tired of reacting to everything. It’s probably not a coincidence that things seem to be getting worse the more we follow Alex, no matter how much I want it to be. So I think it’s time to be proactive. And I think that means we should leave.”

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do,” Herobrine agreed, standing. He helped Steve up with the grip on his hand and pulled him into a deep kiss, brushing his other hand lightly over Steve’s cheek as he did so. Steve felt his heart ache at the decision he’d made about Alex, but in the end, he felt it was the right one.

They parted slowly, and Steve looked up into Herobrine’s face. An expression of resolution and determination shown back at him, and he steeled his heart with the same emotions.

“I’ll pack up the food,” Herobrine said, letting his hand go. “You get dressed and put your armor on. Then we’re out of here.”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly, nodding.

By the time they were ready to go, the sun was just beginning to properly set. Unfavorable time to be leaving, especially since they were in a taiga, but they’d make do. If they had each other, they could do it.

Before they left, Steve couldn’t help but at least write a note to Alex. If nothing else, then to thank her for all she’d done for him. He felt she deserved that much.

He folded the note in half and stuck it between her door and its frame, looking at it sadly.

Goodbye, he thought solemnly, but smiled when he felt Herobrine’s hand on his back and looked over at him. One chapter in his life was ending, but another, brighter one was just beginning. He wrapped his arms around Herobrine’s and leaned against him as they walked away.

Alex,

I’m sorry to be leaving this way.
Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
I’ll miss you.

—Steve

Chapter Text

Steve tilted his head towards the sky, exhaling heavily. His breath was visible as it puffed into the air. He wasn’t in cold biomes all that much but he appreciated the little things they offered.

However, the numbness of his face and fingers he could definitely do without, but it was his decision to leave as soon as possible, so he kept his complaints to himself. He did feel bad when he looked over at Herobrine though. The poor guy had only a normal set of clothes and a cloak, which Steve was sure offered little comfort and defense against the icy wind blowing past them. They hadn’t been walking that long and already Herobrine’s cheeks and nose were reddened and his arms were crossed tightly, the cloak wrapped as much around him as it could be to ward off the wind. Steve felt his heart go out at the sad sight and made a mental note to avoid the colder biomes in the future if possible.

The last vestiges of sunlight were just starting to disappear, eventually plunging them into darkness. Despite the hour, Steve’s lazy day was actually working in their favor—he wasn’t tired, at least not to the point where he felt they should stop at all. Herobrine had offered but Steve had declined for two reasons. One he just wasn’t tired enough for sleep, and two he didn’t want to have to be stationary in this cold. Or rather, he didn’t want Herobrine to have to be stationary. Walking was keeping him warm enough. It was cold but it wasn’t snowing, so he could deal with it.

“This sucks,” Herobrine suddenly commented, and Steve looked up, offering him a smile.

“Are you doing okay?” Steve asked. Maybe talking would help keep his mind off the cold. He doubted it but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Herobrine huffed, making a face as his breath puffed in front of him.

“No. This is like torture. Why do people live in such horrible conditions? Are they insane?”

“Some people like the cold,” Steve answered. He liked snow, but he shared Herobrine’s opinion on the matter—he’d take a hot biome any day of the week.

Herobrine shuddered in what Steve assumed was disgust. “Thank the Gods you’re not like that.”

Steve laughed softly, shivering when a strong breeze passed over them. Next to him, Herobrine made a sound of discontent. He reached out and grabbed Steve’s upper arm, only nothing happened. Steve looked at him curiously.

“Fuck, why can’t I teleport when I touch you?” Herobrine said, frowning at his own hand when he let go of Steve’s arm.

His words sparked a memory of when Sini attacked them and expressed the same frustration.

“Sini couldn’t do it either,” Steve revealed. “He blamed me but I don’t have the slightest idea why.”

“I still don’t see how that makes any sense,” Herobrine mumbled to himself, then shot Steve a wry smile. “Just our luck though. It probably doesn’t work just because it’s an inconvenience to us. I wouldn’t put it past the universe to fuck with us some more than it already has. Or maybe the Gods are actually still around and it’s their faults and they’re laughing at us. I can totally see that being the case. Bastards.”

Steve smiled, though their topic made sure it had no real mirth in it. He swallowed in anxiety, thinking about why he could seemingly nullify teleportation from someone like Herobrine but not from an enderman. It had happened after he was attacked in the nether by that strange mob. Whatever was wrong had to do with that, surely.

“Maybe it has something to do with these?” He asked, touching his inner forearm when Herobrine looked over. His thoughtful expression was tinged with a hint of anger.

“I bet it is. It only started happening after they became brands.” With his expression slipping into something distressed, he took Steve’s hand in his and stopped, halting Steve as well.

“I still can’t believe I let this happen,” Herobrine admitted, staring down at the branded runes on Steve’s inner forearm. “I heard you calling out but I…” Words seemed to fail him as he closed his mouth and hung his head, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening. Steve felt the ache in his heart at Herobrine’s display of regret and reached out to cover Herobrine’s hand with his own.

“I don’t blame you. I never thought you didn’t come because you didn’t want to.” He moved his hand up to cup Herobrine’s cheek and tilt his head up so he could look into Herobrine’s eyes, noticing his furrowed brows and how upset he appeared. Though Steve did enjoy seeing such proof that Herobrine cared enough to be this affected by what happened when they hadn’t even been together, he still wanted to point out that he didn’t blame Herobrine for what had happened. “I would have already forgiven you if I had. A hundred times over.”

Herobrine’s shoulders sagged as he let out a harsh breath, searching Steve’s face for proof of conviction behind his words, which Steve felt with all his heart were true.

“It’s more than I deserve,” he said quietly, making Steve frown and shake his head.

“That’s not true. You’ve already proven that you’d do anything to save me, even if it puts your own life at risk.”

“But you were still hurt,” Herobrine pointed out, ghosting his fingers along Steve’s neck. The bruises from their encounter with Sini had faded, though Steve could still imagine the pain. He shuddered and took a deep breath.

“That’s just part of being human I think. It’s inevitable. If anything I should be apologizing for that.”

“But you can’t control that.”

“Neither can you.”

Steve smiled at Herobrine’s frustrated expression, as he could tell it was more exasperation than anything. “You can’t use that against me.”

Steve chuckled. “You’re just saying that because I’m right.” He stood on his tip toes so he could place a chaste kiss on Herobrine’s pouty lips, taking his hand and smiling warmly. “Now let’s get going again, we can have this conversation when we’re not in a taiga. I’m freezing my balls off over here.”

Herobrine snorted in laughter and tightened his grip on Steve’s hand. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

It was a little easier to handle the cold as they walked together. Herobrine’s body was naturally hotter than another human’s would be, though in this temperature it too seemed cooler than usual. Herobrine didn’t say anything in particular about it, however, so neither would Steve. It was better if they left the taiga as soon as possible.

As they walked, Steve let his mind wander towards thoughts of the future. They suddenly had no direction, but that wasn’t a bad thing. The world was open for them to explore to their heart’s content, and Steve couldn’t help but think about settling down for good. The images his mind conjured set a happy, dopey smile on his lips—spending days together, sharing nights, getting the opportunity to learn each other and be a couple. With Herobrine at his side, he could do all the things he was previously too scared to do, like go swimming or build a proper farm. He wouldn’t have to change locations so often—maybe never—or live relatively close to a village for supplies. They could live fully off the grid and no longer have a care in the world. Steve could imagine it so clearly that his heart ached with want, but his smile faded when he thought about all the obstacles they were still probably going to face. First and foremost, the people like Herobrine. There was a gnawing in the pit of his stomach telling him things weren’t over with them just because they’d decided to break away from Alex.

He resolved to ignore it, at least for now, because that was the most obvious and smart thing to do that totally wouldn’t blow up in his face later. Instead he snuggled closer to Herobrine’s side and simply let himself enjoy their walk. He hoped the edge of the taiga was approaching.

His mind wandered to other topics, namely that feeling of apprehension sitting like a rock in the pit of his stomach. It’d been building for a while now, the same feeling he’d had at the lake they’d recovered at after Sini. Just like before, he could swear he heard something calling his name, both longing and enraged. It wasn’t as strong as before, or if it was, Steve had just gotten used to it. Probably not a good thing to have happen, looking back on his unlucky streak these last several weeks.

Thankfully, luck was surprisingly on their side for once. After another hour or so of walking, the air became noticeably warmer, and a few oak trees could be spotted interspersed between the spruce ones. Steve felt his spirits lift as the pervasive cold started to fade away into something blessedly tolerable.

Herobrine felt it too, if the quiet sigh of what sounded like relief Steve heard was any indication. Steve tightened his grip on Herobrine’s arm, turning his head to face Herobrine just as the other glanced down at him.

“You feel that?” Steve asked, not bothering to hide his excitement. A trivial thing to be excited about, sure, but he knew Herobrine would agree with him on this. Herobrine’s answering smile was all the confirmation he needed.

“Yes, though I’m hesitant to say our luck’s turned around.”

Steve chuckled. “Same.”

After a few more minutes, they made the transition from taiga to forest. Steve took a deep breath of the warmer air, feeling it circulate through his body and warm him from the inside out. Beside him, Herobrine also took a deep breath and sighed happily.

“Oh yeah, that’s much better. Please never want to go to another cold biome like that again,” Herobrine said with a slight pleading lilt, looking over at him.

He smiled in sympathy. “I promise I won’t make you enter a cold biome.” As he said it, he put his hand over his heart.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you,” Herobrine answered with a wink. Steve smiled happily, maybe a little teasingly.

“Is that the reason? Because I agree with you on cold?”

“Certainly one of them,” Herobrine said without missing a beat, sliding an arm around his lower back to pull them flush, his other hand coming up to rest against Steve’s pink-flushed cheeks. “There’s more of course.”

“Of course,” Steve agreed before Herobrine leaned to close the small distance between them. Steve just let the happiness he felt in his heart flow through him as they kissed, pushing aside all those pesky, troublesome feelings of dread and anxiety weighing on his shoulders. Right now it was just him, Herobrine, and all the time in the world.

When they pulled back, Steve was so lost enjoying the kiss and the closeness that it took him a second to realize they’d stopped. Herobrine’s thumb moving on his cheek clued him in. He opened his eyes to see a soft smile gracing Herobrine’s face.

“Are you tired at all?” Herobrine asked. Steve tilted his head at the question, thinking on it. He supposed he did feel tired, or at least he felt the beginnings of it. Laying down and resting, even if he didn’t actually sleep, sounded pretty good right about then. But so did finding a solid location away from the village where they could sit down and really think about their next course of action.

“A little. But I can definitely keep going.” A thought occurred to him and his smile turned knowing. “Or is it that you just can’t wait to get me into bed again.” He wagged his brows for added effect and though Herobrine snorted in amusement and appeared to roll his eyes, his hand, which was still settled loosely on Steve’s lower back, trailed down to squeeze his ass.

“You know me so well,” he admitted. “And besides, can you really blame me?”

Steve chuckled and reached up to pat Herobrine’s cheek gently, nodding.

“As much as I love the thought, I’d really rather we be in an actual bed again.”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it. Trust me, I could make sex good anywhere.”

This time it was Steve’s turn to snort, using that and his hand to cover up his amusement because the thought was actually laughable. Not because he doubted Herobrine—the opposite, if his experience was anything to go by—but just from the images it conjured.

“Alright hot shot, whatever you say,” he agreed, patting Herobrine’s chest as they separated and started walking again in a companionable and comfortable silence. He glanced behind him, towards the taiga, and repressed a shudder. Whatever was actually wrong with him, he didn’t want to think about it. Though…he also didn’t want to keep it from Herobrine, in case something happened. But at the same time, he really didn’t want to worry Herobrine, despite what they’d talked about. He supposed if he was going to start including someone else in his life, he’d have to start somewhere.

His thoughts continued to cycle between hesitant and resolved until he eventually managed to force the words out. “I…” But then he paused as his heart started hammering, the words getting stuck in his throat immediately. Swallowing and making a face, he paused and turned towards Herobrine, though he cast his gaze down as he spoke. “Do you remember at the lake, when I was distracted?”

Herobrine stopped as well, and since his eyes had settled on Herobrine’s chest, he saw the quiet and controlled breath he took.

“Yes.”

“It’s, um, i-it’s happening again,” he admitted. He inwardly told himself to calm down. It wasn’t his fault that he was hearing things, just like it wasn’t his fault that he’d been dragged to a plains and carved into. Which, he believed. Just…the problem was unloading all his worries and troubles onto another person. Steve was used to keeping to himself and he didn’t think that habit of lonely thinking was going to be magically fixed because he had someone who cared about him. He hoped it would be fixed, eventually, but he knew it would take time.

When Herobrine didn’t say anything, Steve swallowed nervously and continued.

“I can hear someone calling my name, almost like they’re right beside me but also out of my sight. Like a yell and a whisper layered over each other. It’s what I heard at the lake and I’ve been hearing it again recently. I…I don’t want to worry you with it but I also don’t want to keep it from you so…so yeah.” He dropped his gaze even more, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. The longer Herobrine’s silence stretched on, the hotter Steve’s cheek became in embarrassment and shame.

Then, Herobrine’s hand slid gently under his chin and nudged his head up. The look on his face was one of soft determination.

“I will always want you to tell me something like this. We have each other now, you don’t have to rely on just yourself. I want to help you through things like this, as I’m sure you want to help me. Right?”

Steve nodded. He knew he was a hypocrite—he wanted Herobrine to open up to him. But he still struggled at times with doing the same and it made him ashamed of himself. It had never been an issue before but now that he was aware of it, he hated it. Why couldn’t he just—open up? Tell Herobrine what was on his mind at any given time? Stop having doubts?

“Right,” Herobrine agreed with small smile. “So you don’t need to think that you’re a burden or an inconvenience to me. I want this, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to.”

Steve swallowed the thick emotion clogging his throat.

“I—okay. I’ll try to…I’ll try,” he settled with. Herobrine’s smile widened.

“I know it would probably be hard for me to do the same, so I’ll promise to try too, how’s that sound?”

Steve could feel relief ease some of the weight off his shoulders, and though some clung on petulantly, old fears and concerns too rooted to be uplifted so easily, he still felt a thousand times lighter. He just needed to remember that Herobrine was on his side—undeniably.

“It sounds pretty good,” he admitted with a wider smile of his own.

“I thought it might,” Herobrine said, and with his fingers still curled under Steve’s chin, leaned forward and tilted Steve’s head up more to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Well, there was an attempt from Herobrine to keep it chaste, which Steve ruined the moment he made a quiet, pleased sound and curled his fingers into Herobrine’s shirt, tugging on it. Their mouths separated for only a moment before Herobrine slid his hand around to cup the back of Steve’s head and delved back into the kiss with more fervor. He let Herobrine know he was very much okay with it by moaning lowly in his throat and wrapping his arms around Herobrine’s back, raking nails lightly down the clothed skin.

“How do you do this so easily,” Herobrine mumbled into the kiss, taking a step forward to force Steve to take a step back. He hardly noticed, even when his back hit a tree.

“Do what?” He asked breathlessly, gripping the back of Herobrine’s shirt when that mouth started wandering along his jaw and down to his neck. He bit his lip hard, unwilling to break the silence of the night.

“Tempt me into forgetting what we were even doing. All you do is make me want to throw you onto the nearest surface and fuck your brains out.”

If Steve had been blushing before, it didn’t compare to what his face felt like now. It felt like half the blood in his body was rushing to his face and the other half was heading south to his steadily more interested cock. Memories of last night and their time together flashed through his head and really didn’t help the situation in his pants.

“I guess that’s…o-one way to warm up,” Steve said, knowing that he was inviting Herobrine not only to continue but take things further. He didn’t think he’d ever be one to have sex out in the open like this, but, well…here they were, a few words and encouraging moans away from doing just that.

But then Herobrine pulled back a bit, enough to stare into his eyes. He could tell Herobrine’s gaze was searching but he hadn’t the faintest idea as to what he was looking for.

“Is this okay?” Herobrine suddenly asked and Steve’s eyebrows raised on instinct. He was just that shocked that Herobrine was asking. Appreciative, but shocked none the less.

“M-More than okay!” He was quick to reassure. He lifted his hands to cup Herobrine’s face, staring directly into his white gaze. The words he felt like he should say popped into his mind and he felt his blush start to spread to his chest with the amount of blood in his face. “I…I want you to. Probably more than I should. All I think about is our time together and when, um, when we can do it a-again.” Gods it felt embarrassing to admit that. He wondered if that feeling would ever go away.

“Is that so? Enjoyed it, hm?” Herobrine looked and sounded like the smuggest bastard in the world, though Steve didn’t fault him for it.

“You already know I did,” Steve muttered as Herobrine smirked. “Don’t play coy.”

“Alright, a more direct approach then.” And then Herobrine knelt, just like in the shower, and Steve’s mouth went dry at the same time his cock twitched with interest.

“Wha—uh, w-what—“

“You said it yourself, a great way to warm up, right?” Herobrine said easily, lifting his hands to fiddle with the front of Steve’s jeans. Steve took deep breaths but it did nothing to lessen the speed at which his heart raced. But it was all in a fairly good way, especially once his cock was free from his jeans and underwear. The relative coldness of the night might have eventually softened him up but that problem was remedied as soon as Herobrine’s mouth descended on him.

Just like in the shower, the sensation of a warm, wet mouth around his cock was life changing. It was such an immediately pleasurable experience it nearly dropped him to his knees. But Herobrine’s hands came up and gripped his hips firmly, keeping him pressed against the tree. Which was a good idea on his part, because Steve was extremely tempted to thrust his hips forward, to feel more of the heat, the wetness, the pressure and pleasure. And of course Herobrine was good at it, maneuvering around his cock like his life depended on it. Steve shouldn’t be surprised that Herobrine was good at something like this but he was. He supposed he just couldn’t—or didn’t want to—imagine Herobrine doing this to anyone else.

He shook the thoughts away just as Herobrine took him all the way into his mouth, making him gasp and grab Herobrine’s hair. His eyes closed and he tilted his head back against the tree, letting himself enjoy the feeling. For Herobrine’s benefit, he didn’t attempt to quiet himself, though it took effort. The moans weren’t loud, but he let them out despite their rather public setting. It felt naughty letting loose like this, but it really was just a window into their future lives—Steve would bet a large sum of emeralds that sexual acts on a whim would become a Thing for them.

He had a feeling he wasn’t going to mind all that much.

A particular deep pass scattered his thoughts and he looked down in a daze. Sensing eyes on him, Herobrine pulled back and looked up, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Enjoying yourself?” Herobrine said, using his hand to keep the pleasure fresh for Steve, his saliva doing a poor but passable job as lube to slick the way for him. Steve bit his lip at the feeling of a foreign hand on his cock and struggled to say something that wasn’t a moan.

“N-No, what gave you that idea?” He commented sarcastically, sticking his tongue out playfully when Herobrine’s eyes narrowed. 

“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that? When your dick’s in my hand? Okay, bold move.”

Steve nearly blanched when Herobrine let go and stood up. He immediately reached for him, mildly panicked Herobrine would leave him like this.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry!”

“Are you though?” He could tell Herobrine was joking, trying to get him to apologize and ask for it, and with how keyed up he already was from the brief blow job, well, it wasn’t all that hard.

He pouted his lips a little and quieted his voice.

“I’m really sorry. Please?” He looked up as innocently as he could into Herobrine’s eyes, ignoring the juxtaposition of him doing that with his dick out.

Herobrine took a deep breath and reached for him. He thought they were to hug, or maybe kiss, but instead Herobrine snaked arms around his hips to cup his ass and heft him onto the thigh that slid between his, creating instant, wonderful friction to his cock. He moaned and clung tight, digging his fingers into Herobrine’s back and starting to rut against his thigh. Pleasure shot up and down his spine on each rotation of his hips and he let needy moans out to encourage Herobrine to finish what he’d started. Which he did with effortless efficiency. The hands on his ass hiked him higher up on Herobrine’s thigh and helped his hips rut down, using friction to get him off. Herobrine’s mouth first found his before starting to explore his jaw and throat, eventually biting down and sucking a mark into his neck. He cried out softly and tightened his grip, unintentionally digging his nails in harder but it just felt so good, he wasn’t aware of anything else. Just Herobrine in his arms and that sweet friction against his cock.

And when Herobrine reached between them with one hand and grabbed ahold of his cock to stroke it, he couldn’t hold back his orgasm and came with a pleasure filled shout, burying his heated face into Herobrine’s shoulder, body trembling.

Coupled with the late hour and his body’s natural inclination to sleep at such a time, a wave of tiredness washed over him as he came down from his orgasm. Legs like jelly barely supported him when Herobrine lowered him back down fully to the grass and created some space between them. A chuckle proved he wasn’t hiding his sudden sleepiness very well.

“Tired now?” Herobrine asked, a bit teasingly, even as he reached down to help Steve back into his pants, zipping them up and everything. Steve’s response was interrupted by a yawn before it could even begin.

“Maybe a little,” he allowed. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but if he had to guess he’d say around midnight. Much too early in their trek to consider stopping.

Herobrine hummed noncommittally and leaned forward to kiss him again. Steve leaned forward as well, enjoying the warm and intimacy from his boyfriend, the thing he’d always desired and was worried he was becoming addicted to, and that’s when he felt Herobrine’s own interest in their naughty shenanigans. He thought back to that morning, when he’d implied that he was willing to give Herobrine a blowjob before the man had surprised him with one.

“What about you? Do you want help with that?” Steve mumbled into Herobrine’s mouth, pushing his hips forward to gesture wordlessly to what he was referring to.

“Yes and no. I think we should find somewhere to stop first. I didn’t push last night because it was your first time but one orgasm is not enough to sate me. Not to toot my own horn or anything but I have a lot of stamina when it comes to sex. Besides, if you were to blow me right now, there’s no way you wouldn’t end up naked and panting on the grass completely fucked out, so, better to find somewhere we want to rest for a while.”

Steve didn’t know what to feel after that. A little relieved. Maybe a little apprehensive that Herobrine admitted to having so much stamina. Steve didn’t know how comfortable he’d be having so much sex, but he supposed they could always talk about it in the future. Surprisingly he also felt hints of anticipation, when he thought about Herobrine’s words.

He ended up sighing and pulling away to smile up at Herobrine. “Okay. I’ll accept that this time. But it doesn’t sit right with me not to help you out too, so no more sexy times until then, got it?”

Herobrine gave a long suffering sigh.

“Fiiiiine,” he faux complained, slinging his arm over Steve’s shoulder and winking at him. “But no promises.”

Steve shook his head, but wrapped his arm around Herobrine’s back as they continued walking.

They walked until the sun started to rise above the horizon. By then, Steve’s stomach was growling, and he steered them over to a tree to sit in the shade. They were still in a regular forest, and the sounds of nature echoed all around them. The sun shone through the tall trees, creating a picturesque scene for them to enjoy.

“What food did we have?” Steve asked as he sat down and let his legs rest. At this point in time he was yawning nearly every five minutes and sometimes his blinks would last far longer then they should have. But he soldiered on, waiting until they found a stream to allow himself rest. Having a source of water was a good start to their temporary camp so they could discuss their next move. After Steve slept, of course. His limbs felt like sacks of bricks and his eyes burned. He could probably fall asleep standing up if he stopped walking for more than a few seconds.

“Same stuff we’ve had. Random fruits, vegetables, and some meat, both dried and fresh. Should probably cook that and cure it to keep it edible as long as possible.”

Steve yawned again, rubbing at his eyes. “Any bread?”

“A small slice.”

“Just—“ He yawned again, closing his eyes. “Just give me that and like, an apple or something. And some water.”

He listened to Herobrine rummage around his pack before he felt the items requested placed onto his lap. He opened bleary eyes and looked up, smiling at Herobrine.

“Thanks. How far away from that river do you think we are?” He asked between bites.

“Not far,” Herobrine commented, sitting and staring at him bemusedly for a few moments before saying, “You know, if you want to go to sleep, I could just carry you to the river.”

Steve almost refused, but instead offered a compromise.

“Nah, I’m good. Although, I might rest my eyes for just a few minutes, you know? So they stop burning.”

Herobrine nodded and hummed in agreement, preferring to remain silent on the matter. Not that he could change Steve’s mind about it. He’d just lean back against the tree, close his eyes, rest a little. A quick recharge, that was all. Then he’d be good to make it to that river and rest properly.

Of course, once he closed his eyes, his body immediately sent him under, before he’d even finished his breakfast. Herobrine merely shook his head with a smile and packed everything back up before lifting Steve in his arms and continuing towards the river.

Alex walked through the short hall leading to her room at the inn feeling bone tired, despite her relatively tame day. Dealing with Juneau and his increasingly worrisome mindset regarding Herobrine and Steve just sucked the life right out of her. He was being so ridiculously dense when it came to her reasoning, and she couldn’t scold him because one, he was her boss, and two, everyone was worried that any little slip up could result in death. She already felt like they’d dodged an arrow when Adelaide had revealed that she didn’t bring Blake to him. She was convinced the only reason Juneau’d practically forgotten about it was because of that scroll Blake had thrown to Adelaide. But she wasn’t dumb enough to say what was really on her mind, just try to subtly steer him into keeping Steve as a prisoner rather than a sacrifice. So far, no one had been able to get through to him.

For a brief moment she’d wondered if it was worth it to confront the Wither and have it try to talk sense into Juneau, but she shuddered at the very thought. She’d only been in its direct presence once and that night had been the worst of her life, laden with nightmares and feelings of dread and despair. She really had no interest going through that again. But it might be a last resort if they couldn’t figure something out before she and the boys arrived at Graven.

The thought of sleeping in an actual bed was the only thing driving her forward now. She passed by the boy’s door and smiled at it, wondering what they’d been up to today, but her smile dropped when she saw the note stuck in her door. She wasn’t expecting any communication and Mirai would have just used their enchanted journals, so she assumed it was from the boys. Maybe a list of more things to get?

She grabbed it and opened it without much thought, but the short contents of the note sent her heart hammering in her chest, and her blood turned to ice in her veins.

Her eyes traced over the words again and again, but the short and admittedly sweet note didn’t change. Just Steve saying goodbye.

Her pounding heart drowned out any thoughts. The note shook in her hand as an empty gaze looked through it, her mind too busy imagining what Juneau—

She couldn’t even think it before feeling like she might be sick. Fumbling for the key to the room, she hurried inside and dug out her journal, opening its enchanted cover and writing a hasty message for Mirai.

Send Adelaide here NOW. We have a problem.

Blake had his arms crossed, glaring straight down at the grass as he walked. Building slowly inside him was a strange feeling of nauseating emptiness—a gnawing void that clawed at his gut and made dread curl around his spine.

At least Buddy was quiet. The enderman strolled casual as all get out beside him, even swinging its arms a little, like an excitable child. Blake was too distracted by his encounter with Adelaide and Jasmine to scold the enderman.

Sure, he’d reacted…strongly, perhaps a tad impulsively, now that he was thinking back on it. Hindsight and all that. He didn’t necessarily regret what he’d done, as he was truly planning on being long gone once he found Steve and murdered him, but now that he felt like this great, gaping chasm was about to open beneath him, he did kinda, maybe, sorta have some regrets. But he just kept telling himself everything would work out in the end. Whatever the fuck had happened to him that night in the plains and afterwards hadn’t killed him, and he wasn’t planning on having some petulant cry-baby bitch mob kill him either, no matter how ancient and terrifying it appeared.

…If only that dreadful feeling would fuck off already.

After some amount of time had passed—enough for the sun to be on its descent—Blake saw a village through the trees ahead of them. He made a face, and kept a wide berth from it. He wasn’t opposed to entering it but he just felt too out of sorts to deal with questioning or frightful villagers right now. Besides, he could tell the pull was located beyond the village, so why even bother with it?

As he passed it, and then moved on from it, that dreadful feeling inside him deepened—a terrible wrongness. Was it getting worse? He’d been following the pull he’d previously believed lead to Steve, though now doubt troubled him. Was he being lead somewhere else? He couldn’t fathom where else it could possibly lead to, though perhaps he should have questioned that as soon as he arrived in the Overworld.

His face was set into a dissatisfied scowl as he contemplated his actions. If he was smart he’d probably run away from the pull, get as far away from here as he could. But the desire to see Steve and find out why was nearly overwhelming, overriding all other thought. The runes he’d carved should have done their job, a modified version of the sacrifice Juneau used to suck the void right out of people with purple eyes, so what about this time had gone wrong? He was sure the runes were correct, he was the most advanced rune researcher of their group and he’d been sure they would work as he intended.

So, despite the gut feeling telling him something was wrong, he chose to ignore it and forced his legs to keep walking, just to find out why.

Night fell properly, and with it, the temperature. Strangely enough, he felt fine. He knew it was cold, but it was like his body just…didn’t care. Only his breath puffing in front of his face let him know just how cold it was. Another benefit to…whatever the fuck he was now, he supposed.

He walked on, attempting to clear his mind of the doubt and weariness he felt. It wasn’t working—the more he tried not to think about it, the more he thought about it. The nonstop dread and emptiness that flashed through him didn’t help, as if his very body was telling him something was wrong and he needed to fix it. If only he knew how.

It wasn’t until very early morning that Buddy perked up and exclaimed, the usual horrifying noise of an enderman acting as some sort of excited cry.

“I believe I can sense my human. We are getting closer.” The tall bastard looked down at him. “Have you been able to achieve success with your powers?”

He gawked at it, then scowled. “‘Success with my powers?’ Has it looked like I’ve been practicing?”

The enderman’s head tilted, always infuriatingly innocent. ”Given what I saw with those two wither-touched, no, I don’t think so.”

Blake growled and looked away. Like it was his fault. True, he didn’t practice because he still thought of himself as mostly human and the instinct to use his powers—which he didn’t even know the full extent of—wasn’t there yet, but he also didn’t have anyone to help show him. All the Withered in Graven had either the Wither itself or Juneau to help them figure out what they could do, and Blake just had an annoyingly friendly enderman. Not really his style.

“Whatever,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. The sun was shining now, the dawn of a new day, but all Blake felt was miserable, horrible emptiness. Like his insides had been hollowed out. And he was sick and tired of it. That strong pull was still there, more urgent than ever, but the closer he got to whatever was on the other side, the more his body seemed to reject the very idea of it.

“Do not worry. I will teleport us.” Was all Buddy said before reaching over and grabbing his arm with its cold, clammy grip. Blake was too lost in his thoughts to react quick enough, and he couldn’t yank his arm out of Buddy’s grasp before they vanished.

As soon as he materialized and his eyes landed on the two figures also occupying the small creek-side clearing, it was like everything else ceased to exist. There was movement and yelling, but it all seemed muted and distant. The pull was screaming, pounding against his ribcage, urging him forward, to touch, to be complete, to—to—

He took a step forward and was immediately halted by the appearance of his target’s companion directly in front of him, iron sword held up to his throat. Even the sight of the man’s white eyes didn’t incite any negative emotions in him. Just a passive curiosity. All of his focus was centered on the figure sitting up against the tree across the clearing, wide violet eyes staring unblinkingly at him. He could see the man blocking his way talking, but the words were muffled as if underwater, and if he was talking to Steve, Steve did not reply. Just continued staring at him.

His body reacted on instinct without command from him. Power welled inside him and the only thing going through his mind was get over there now.

He teleported, ignoring his body’s adverse reaction to forcing the action, appearing on the ground kneeling before Steve, hand already outstretched but not in a malicious manner. He wasn’t even fully aware of what was happening, his body acting on autopilot, but Steve reached for him too and when their hands touched—

He blinked and took a deep breath, coming back to himself. His heart was racing and his thoughts were a jumbled mess, unable to come to terms with what’d just happened. Or where he was now.

Because this was not the little clearing in the forest he’d been at. This was strange, alien  yellow ground and a dark black sky. This was more enderman than he’d ever seen in his life, and tall, imposing black spires of obsidian reaching up towards the sky. This was—

“Where…are we?” Came a hesitant voice to the side and he looked over, surprised and angry to see Steve looking around as well. But when he bared his teeth and attempted to move, his body wouldn’t listen. He was stuck.

Just a precaution, came a disembodied and feminine voice, startling them both. You are dangerous to yourself and others right now.

He growled, looking around. None of the enderman appeared to be paying attention to them, so who—

A huge figured landed on the ground before them. Steve, apparently not rooted to the spot like he was, fell on his ass as the ground shook violently. But his petty satisfaction of seeing Steve fall was quickly overshadowed by the sight before them now.

A huge fucking dragon.

I am glad we can take this opportunity to speak.

The dragon lowered its massive head to be level with them, purple eyes blazing in their sockets. Despite the fearsom visage of the great mob, Blake did not feel threatened by it.

I have wanted to discuss matters with the both of you for quite a while now.

Chapter Text

The sun was too bright.

Herobrine knelt, stunned, next to Steve’s unconscious body. Beside them, the stranger’s equally unconscious body was sprawled on the ground, though Herobrine paid little attention to it now. Trying to separate them or even touch one of them proved useless—each time he did, his hand burned fiercely with an unnatural and familiar power he couldn’t ignore. But why The Void was keeping him from interfering was an infuriating mystery to him.

Left with nothing to do but wait, the reality of the situation had time to dig its claws into his psyche.

He’d failed. So utterly and completely, he’d failed at the one thing—

Denial warred with the truth. He reached forward toward Steve, only to pause when he saw his shaking hand. He turned it so his palm faced him before swallowing heavily and clenching his hand into a fist. It didn’t help the shaking.

The sun was too bright.

The emptiness inside was worrying strictly because he knew himself that well. He should be feeling…he should be feeling. But it was all too much, an amalgam of rage, desperation, fear, confusion. Too much, too much.

The sun was too bright and his hands were still shaking and his eyes burned.

A quiet sound behind him had him whipping around. The enderman was shifting in place at the edge of the clearing where it and the stranger appeared. Almost guilty, seeing the outcome of its actions. Herobrine had seen how it was holding the stranger’s arm, clearly the one doing the teleporting. Bringing danger closer to them.

He glared death at it and fisted his hands tighter. The enderman cried out and fell to its knees, body contorting in pain. His breathing became rapid as it fought his influence but it wouldn’t escape him.

“What. Did you think. You were doing!” He snarled out at it, stalking forward with a dozen terrible scenarios racing through his head. Ripping it limb from limb, clawing its pearl from its chest.

His eyes slid over to the river.

He could drown it. Tell it to stand in the shallows and watch its legs burn, watch it writhe and hurt. The command was on the tip of his tongue, it would be easy, it would be satisfying. Power bubbled and frothed inside him, begging to be let out. He’d been too lax lately, too carefree and look what’d come of it. At what he’d allowed to happen.

Standing directly before the felled mob, his eyes caught sight of the jagged scar stretching across its back. All at once realization slammed into him and he took a step back, dropping his influence over it at the same time. Small whines and panting breaths heaved its torso as it fell forward onto its hands, barely keeping itself upright, shivers wracking its lean frame. He’d exerted more than he’d realized, during the short time. Wanted it to hurt as badly as he hurt.

Rage still seethed in the back of his mind but horror at what he’d almost done, at Steve’s reaction if he ever found out, burned like acid in his throat.

“B-Buddy,” he acknowledged, swallowing heavily. His chest hurt and the sun was still too bright, a headache creeping along the base of his skull, and his hands shook badly, worse now. He balled them up and pressed them to his eyes, gritting his teeth.

He turned his back to Buddy and in desperation, walked over to Steve and fell to his knees, reaching for him. His hand closed around Steve’s arm and instantly burned savagely, smoke wafting from the sudden and severe wound. His high tolerance was crippled by the incessant searing pain and he let go with a gasp, holding his burnt palm to his chest. He watched it heal with panting breaths, flexing his fingers once his skin had returned to normal. Steve’s arm was fine, unblemished, though still frustratingly untouchable.

Breathing heavily, thoughts scrambled and emotions in turmoil, he glanced down at the stranger, paying attention to the figure for the first time. It was…something new and yet familiar. Its appearance was strange, but if Herobrine focused, he swore he could sense three distinct presences from within the human-esque façade: enderman, Void, and the Wither. The conglomeration of all that in a singular body that looked passably human was mysterious to say the least, and he’d noticed the stranger’s eyes when Buddy had first arrived with him in tow—what should have been glowing white thanks to the Wither’s power instead glowed purple. And coupled with the gray complexion, the man was clearly half enderman, or heavily infected by some sort of ender plague, though he was sure such a thing did not exist. But it was the only explanation his frantic mind could conjure that was satisfying enough to quiet his thoughts. There needed to be some kind of reason for all this crazy shit going down.

His breathing gradually slowed as he sat there unmoving, gaze eventually drifting back over to Steve. At least he didn’t look troubled by whatever was happening. In unconsciousness, he looked relatively peaceful. Small victories, Herobrine thought dully.

The sun was too bright. The Overworld continued to exist around him. Nature was too loud, each rustle of trees like an explosion in his ears, his heart pounding in his chest echoed deafeningly through his head, he could hear Steve’s heart, and the stranger’s heart, and Buddy shifting and whining and—and—

He pressed his hands to his face and bent double, ignoring the scratchy grass tickling the backs of his hands. He made the obligatory attempt to quell his uneasy breathing before simply letting his body spiral in its prolonged negative reaction. He squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth hard, hard until it hurt, hard until he was seeing stars he had his eyes closed so tight, hard until his teeth ached.

He wanted to curl up on the familiar comfort of warm nether brick, soothed by the heavy and miasmic aura of his maker. He wanted to be vindicated when he pushed doubt and worry and fear away. He wanted to look upon the Wither and—

Stop it, his mind chided, images of the Nether and the fortress and the Wither dispersing like smoke in the wind. Don’t think that. You’re better than that now.

He didn’t feel better.

But…he had to be better, now. He needed to get a fucking grip on himself lest Steve wake up and see him crying like some distraught helpless weakling, feeling sorry for himself because he couldn’t do one fucking thing right when it came to the best part of his life, the part that was becoming his reason for not just ending it all, his reason for everything. Steve was going to wake up and immediately noticed him and feel low, feel like it was his fault, like he asked for this stranger to touch him and knock them out. Steve would think that because he’d only ever known to think that way and Herobrine would not allow such a horribly wrong transgression to occur and continue occuring.

But he needed to get a fucking grip.

His breathing was shaky when he looked up. He squinted as the light of day shone bright around him. The Overworld was usually bright, nowadays. Bright like Steve’s carefree smiles.

He sat up and lowered his hands, staring at Steve’s face and reminding himself to take deep breaths. Deep, even breaths until his body regulated itself. His heart rate slowed. His brain tuned out all inconsequential sound. Only Buddy’s slightly off breathing and his own heart beating accompanied the peace and quiet of the clearing.

He would not smile, not until Steve opened his eyes, but he felt like he could, if he wanted to. For Steve he would. But he had to wait.

“Buddy,” he said, tone clipped. The enderman did not speak a response, instead made a small sound Herobrine took as questioning and maybe a little wary. Guilt attempted to crush at his heart but he kept it at bay for now. Buddy was still just an enderman. Friendly, sure, and seemingly genuinely interested in Steve, but a stone cold mob at the end of the day. A mob who already served a master.

He took a final deep breath before looking at Buddy over his shoulder.

“Tell me everything. Now.“

“W-Where are we? And—And w-who are you?” Steve asked somewhat fearfully. An understandable reaction in his opinion, as there was a massive godsdammed dragon hardly five feet from him.

This is The End. My eternal domain, the dragon responded with a hint of long resigned acceptance, briefly stretching its wings out as if to gesture to the island as a whole. And I am the Ender Dragon, the one who rules and protects the ancient history of this place. The dragon’s blazing purple eyes, so familiar and yet so foreign stared intensely at him before shifting to the strange creature he was sharing this hallucination or dream with. The dragon eyed it for a solid minute before looking at him again. You may call me Jean.

Steve blinked, taken aback.

…Jean?

What kind of name was that for a literal fucking dragon!

And people gave him shit for naming an enderman Buddy, sheesh.

Though hard to tell, Jean appeared to smile. It looked rather terrifying with a mouthful of teeth so sharp.

Steven, the name you gave my enderman was rather fitting. Do not feel embarrassed. Though Buddy has no concept of a name nor will it take pride in such a thing, I can tell you it appreciates the connection it shares with you. It is rather found of you, after all.

Steve just stared wide-eyed and vaguely horrified. Could Jean read his mind?!

Only technically. You and your friend are here in spirit, your physical bodies are safe in the Overworld.

That should have reassured him, but he only felt a stab of pain at the thought of Herobrine, alone with his apparently unconscious body. He could only imagine what Herobrine was going through.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the stranger’s outburst of, “We are not friends.” The man seethed the words, looking over to glare at him. Steve was only marginally glad to see that the man couldn’t seem to move, if the trembling body and tight fists were any indication.

There was a snort and a puff of hot breath from Jean, as if she laughed.

Whether or not you believe it to be so, your actions have at least ensured your commitment to our human here. She crossed one giant paw over the other and lifted a brow, which Steve was surprised and a little amused was even visible on her scaly face. The least you can do is be friendly towards each other. Your predicament is your own fault, perhaps it’s now time to own up to that, especially if you don’t want the Wither to have you tracked down and dragged sceaming back to it.

Her words were casual and insanely confusing to Steve, but this stranger’s gritted teeth and lack of a response told him he was the only one in the dark about what, exactly, the fuck was going on.

“Um, sorry but, what is going on?” He asked, only a little wary of drawing the massive creature’s gaze back to him. But he thought maybe her gaze softened when she looked upon him. Probably just his imagination.

As the ruler of this realm, and a creature of The Void, I have a certain…connection, with it. It is not quite a physical thing, not like the Aether, nor does it deal in absolutes. There is no concept of right and wrong, within The Void. Simmons and I exemplify the duality of such an old and forgotten power. Simmons prefers to cause trouble, and is filled with rage and an insatiable desire for death. I on the other hand prefer to live my life as peacefully as I can and protect the secrets of this realm, as my ancient masters had tasked of me.

She paused and Steve, making an uncertain face as he looked around the frankly desolate area they were in, decided to voice his concern.

“You want to live here?” He tried not to sound judgmental but…yeah, it wasn’t a good look.

Jean huffed in some kind of amusement. We all must live to the best of our abilities with the lives we find ourselves with, wouldn’t you agree?

He swallowed and nodded. He knew all about dealing with what life had seen fit to throw at him.

Also—

“Who is Simmons?”

This time Jean’s smile was obvious.

Why, that despicable and unruly Wither, of course. If ever there is a time where you find yourself capable of insulting it safely, call it by its name and you will see it rage like the petulant child it is.

The idea of making the Wither mad was not one Steve thought fondly of, but he knew Herobrine would enjoy the information. He noted it for later.

“This is all fine and dandy,” the stranger cut in, “But what the fuck does it have to do with us and why we’re here?”

Steve glanced over at the strange man, wondering the same thing and more. Mostly about the man himself. Something about him was familiar but Steve couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Nothing good, surely. The man didn’t look human, not with ashen skin and enderman-like glowing purple eyes, but still, something nagged the back of his mind that he knew who this was.

The only upside to this whole crazy fever dream was that he felt…okay. Normal. More at peace than he’d been in a while, without that dread hanging over him. He didn’t want to know what about this situation was helping with that.

I’m afraid anything involving blatant manipulation of The Void by mere humans is cause for my concern. Jean’s tone was chiding as she directed her gaze towards the stranger. He growled.

“Yeah so what! It wouldn’t have mattered if he hadn’t done whatever the fuck made me like this!”

Jean made a rough sound in the back of her throat. The fault is your own, through your incorrect assumption of The True Void versus the fragments of void attached to human souls. They are not quite the same, instead the smaller fragments drawing power and life from the true source, and your lack of knowledge only splintered off a piece of that fragment. In doing something so dangerously careless, instead of binding the void to yourself, you bound yourself to it. And since it already has a soul it’s quite happy with…

She trailed off, despite Steve being absolutely lost in this conversation. The stranger seemed to understand a little more as he growled again and bared his teeth at Jean.

“Bullshit! He must have done something! I did everything right!” He yelled, struggling to break free from the invisible force keeping him in place. It made him look insane, fighting against nothing.

Jean sighed, her attention shifting back over to Steve.

I’m truly sorry about him. He is angry and confused right now, and I’m afraid there is no fixing the problem lest one of you die.

The stranger barked out a laugh and grinned maliciously at him.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier? As soon as we wake up or whatever, you’re dead.“

Steve swallowed down a retort. No need to antagonize this man any more than he apparently already had. Plus, Herobrine was going to be there, and he trusted Herobrine to be able to protect him.

Surprisingly, Jean made a sound much like an exasperated and exhausted sigh, like she was arguing the same point over and over with a child who wouldn’t listen.

I won’t bother repeating myself again. You two will learn in time, and we will speak again. And Steven…

Jean’s words echoed as the world around them was swathed in darkness and there was a loud rushing sound blowing past his ears, almost like he was falling without the stomach drop. Just blinding darkness and sound.

Please tell Buddy it’s not at fault.

It took effort to keep his breathing steady. He had shifted to sit on his knees facing Buddy while the enderman explained its situation, and as the minutes ticked by and Buddy spilled everything, it was becoming harder and harder to restrain himself from attempting to murder the person Buddy had been traveling with.

Blake.

Herobrine remembered when he’d made Steve tell him about the runes. About what happened and who carved them. And here the universe had seen fit to deliver the culprit to him when he couldn’t even fucking touch him. He seethed with the information, hands fisted tightly where they rested on his thighs. He was so angry his body shook with the force of it.

He tried to distract himself by observing Buddy. The enderman had naturally mirrored him and was sitting on its knees before him, though a little more away than it might have before Herobrine had taken his anger out on it. He did feel bad about that but pushed those feelings away for now. He had to focus, mostly on what he was going to do once Steve and Blake woke up. Comforting Steve and making sure he was okay warred with murdering Blake in cold blood.

Buddy was stuck in a constant state of fidgeting. After Herobrine had commanded it to be quiet after its story had concluded, it merely sat there, waiting, clearly nervous. But Herobrine needed to think and its rambling didn’t help. He needed time to calm down, to attempt to quell the savage rage he knew resided inside of him. And it wasn’t even deep, it was always right there beneath the surface, waiting for him to slip up. Being around Steve helped him remember that he didn’t have to be angry all the time, and Steve didn’t even have to do anything but look at him. Maybe that made him pathetic or dependent or whatever but he didn’t care. If Steve was with him, let the universe call him pathetic.

But Steve wasn’t here with him, not technically. Just his body laying lifeless and untouchable beside him, so close yet so far, too many unknowns clouding his judgement. Past him would have killed Blake regardless of how much damage he took while doing it, and regardless of who got hurt because of it. Present him didn’t want to harm Steve, nor make Steve worry needlessly.

He took another deep breath, let it out slowly, trying to remain calm, only to jump when both Steve and Blake gasped and snapped awake. Herobrine reacted on pure instinct, so fast to Steve’s side he might have teleported. He could have cried when he felt no pain touching his boyfriend’s skin, and savored the feeling greedily, comforting himself by helping Steve up, holding him close.

“Are you okay? Steve?”

Steve was dazed for a few moments before blinking and looking at him clearly. His mouth opened.

“I suppose you want me to believe you had nothing to do with that either, don’t you?” Came a voice to the side. Herobrine’s barely contained rage trembled at the sound as they both looked at Blake. Herobrine bared his teeth.

“I don’t know why that happened,” Steve responded honestly, looking and sounding lost.

Blake eyed Steve for a moment before his head turned almost imperceptibly towards Herobrine. There was nothing but contempt in his expression, which seemed to deepen when he returned his attention to Steve and sneered.

“I see you got yourself a guard dog. Didn’t take you for a cowardly bitch.”

Herobrine didn’t know what came over him. One second he was kneeling next to Steve, the next he was being held back by Buddy, intercepted before he could rip Blake’s throat out. Blake for his part startled from having Herobrine lunge at him, but the momentary uncertainty in his eyes was not nearly satisfying enough.

Herobrine, you need to calm down.

He recognized her voice. It had been a long time since he’d heard it, but it was unmistakable. The smooth, melodic tone echoed through his head, undoubtedly thanks to this direct contact with Buddy. Buddy needed to count itself lucky—if it had interfered of its own accord to protect Blake of all people, Herobrine really would lose it.

Still—

“Stay out of my business!” He snarled back to her, glaring at Blake and struggling against her hold, but he knew it was impossible to escape. Jean was too strong, even in the body of an enderman. And he couldn’t teleport, as she would just teleport with him.

You can’t hurt him, Jean said, her tone so infuriatingly calm and sure. But he would not be assuaged so easily.

“Oh yeah? Watch me,” he growled, baring his teeth at Blake and finding slightly more satisfaction when he gulped and backed up a bit. Blake’s presence was a mixture of human and mob, but Herobrine felt he could bend the pathetic fool to his will if he tried hard enough. And he was extremely motivated to do so.

Catching his insides on fire and letting him melt from the inside out or squeezing his head until it exploded also sounded like good, satisfying options.

You mustn’t, she replied, more intense. She shook him, Buddy’s long arms holding him tighter. If you hurt Blake, you’ll hurt Steve.

An icy flash of dread shot down his spine as his attention immediately snapped to Buddy, going lax in its grip as well. “What?” He asked faintly. He could see Steve watching him in concern, he looked like he wanted to reach forward and comfort him, and Herobrine could think of nothing he also wanted more. But the situation must be off putting for he kept his distance for now. Herobrine couldn’t blame him—he was talking to himself like he’d gone crazy, as Jean’s voice was in his head only.

They are connected. I don’t have time to explain fully, not using Buddy. Its body is already straining past its limits. But you must not harm Blake or allow him to harm himself, as it will mirror onto Steve. Not completely, but enough, especially the worse the infliction is.

He could barely hear her over the pounding of his heart in his ears. A faint buzzing accompanied it, like a bee had taken root in his brain.

It wasn’t fair. He wanted to protect Steve, he’d promised, but he could only do so much. How was he supposed to protect Steve from something like this? What if…he failed again? The very thought stabbed at his heart and squeezed his lungs.

I will contact you soon, I promise. She let him go slowly, as if worried he might snap and go for Blake anyway, but he just sagged in place and focused on breathing. I suggest restraining him for now. She departed with that last bit of advice, Buddy’s body spasming for a moment before it too settled into a slumped position, chest heaving with labored breaths.

The clearing was unnaturally still and silent. It made his heartbeat that much louder in his ears. His thoughts were so scrambled he didn’t know what to do or think first.

“Herobrine?” Came Steve’s quiet voice from the side. Herobrine swallowed the lump in his throat and looked over at him, feeling vaguely sick. Steve reached out and set a hand over his, squeezing to offer his comfort. “Are you okay?”

No, definitely not. There was a lot to do, and a lot he needed to tell Steve. But first thing first.

“I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you,” he prefaced, then turned and punched Blake square in the center of his face. He grit his teeth when he heard Steve cry out in shocked, confused pain but watched with no small amount of satisfaction as Blake fell backwards onto the grass, unconscious. He wished he could have punched the bastard harder.

Now that Blake was momentarily taken care of, he hurried to turn his attention on Steve. The man was holding his hand to his face over his nose, wide-eyed as he looked down at Blake then up at Herobrine. He started explaining to save Steve the trouble of asking.

“When Buddy grabbed me, I could hear Jean—the, um, the Ender Dragon. She told me that you two are connected, that…” He trailed off, fisting his hands on his thighs again. He was still so angry but it no longer had an outlet and just festered inside him. “She told me that you’re connected. That whatever happens to him happens to you, just at a lesser extent.” As if that was any real consolation though. He still…he still hurt Steve.

He pressed his fists against his eyes and clenched his jaw tight again, seething with stagnant rage. “I’m sorry, I—“

“It’s okay,” Steve attempted to say, trying to calm him down, trying to help but Herobrine—he was just so angry.

“It’s not okay!” He yelled, standing up and stalking away, pacing about the small clearing. “I failed! Look what happened!” He threw his arm out toward Blake’s unconscious body, at Buddy’s heaving form, at Steve holding his hand to his face, watching him sadly. Herobrine grit his teeth, coming to a stop near Blake, glaring down at him in hatred as his fists shook at his sides. “And all because of this piece of shit.” He growled and looked away, fearful that he might snap the longer he looked at Blake and thought about all he’d done. His gaze settled on Steve, who’d lowered his hand and was still sitting, watching him. The center of his face was red and it didn’t look too bad, like he might have run into a wall or something equally ridiculous, but it still sent pain through his heart knowing he’d caused that. He walked over and dropped to his knees in front of Steve.

“Hero…” Was all Steve managed to say, clearly at a loss for words. Herobrine closed his eyes and hung his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m just. So. Angry—”

Steve lurched forward and wrapped him in a hug, holding him tightly. Herobrine didn’t attempt to push him away, instead wrapped his arms around Steve’s back and held on just as tightly, burying his face in Steve’s shoulder and relishing the warmth of his body, the heart beating strong in his chest, the hands rubbing his back gently.

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve whispered. “You know I could never blame you.”

“You should,” he responded miserably. “I failed—“

“Shhh.” Steve pulled away enough to kiss him, one of his hands coming up to cup Herobrine’s cheek. “You didn’t fail,” Steve said when they separated, staring directly into his eyes. Herobrine could stare into those brilliant violet eyes all day long. “Remember what I was saying about that voice I was hearing? It’s gone, and I don’t feel like someone’s stalking me anymore. I don’t think even the Gods themselves could have prevented this from happening. So please don’t blame yourself,” Steve said empathically.

If only it was so easy.

“I just want you to be safe,” Herobrine said quietly. Steve smiled.

“I know. I want the same for you. And everything’s okay now, right?”

Herobrine sighed. A little bit of his anger melted away, but he could still feel a lot of it lurking just under his skin. Especially when he glanced over at Blake.

“No. Now we have that to deal with.”

Steve looked over as well and took a deep breath to let it out slowly. Then he turned to look at Buddy.

“Buddy?” He called out questioningly. The enderman lifted its head to look at him but made no other attempt to move. “Are you okay?”

It nodded. It was probably exhausted after having been so suddenly commandeered by Jean. Again that guilt from earlier when he’d let his anger control him churned his stomach. He should have been able to control himself but instead he’d let his emotions get the better of him and hurt Buddy. It didn’t sit right with him.

“Jean wanted me to tell you that it wasn’t your fault,” Steve relayed. The enderman did perk up a bit at that.

“I was just trying to get back to you,” it said, and Herobrine for once translated, believing Steve deserving of hearing its sentiments. Steve smiled kindly at it.

“I’m glad you’re here. I was worried about you,” Steve said honestly.

“You didn’t know who he was, did you?” Herobrine observed. Buddy shook its head sadly, and Steve gave him a questioning look.

“Who is he, by the way?”

Herobrine gave Steve an odd look. Steve didn’t know already? Why hadn’t Jean told him? He glanced at Blake with furrowed brows before taking Steve’s hand in his and squeezing gently, offering his comfort.

“It’s Blake.”

Steve tensed immediately and his eyes darted to the unconscious body. He listened as Steve’s heartbeat increased, and his breathing became noticeably faster. It nearly sparked Herobrine’s rage all over again, because he knew how fucked up Steve was over what’d happened between the two of them. Perhaps subconsciously, Steve’s hand Herobrine wasn’t holding came to rest over the runes on his stomach.

“O-Oh,” was all Steve responded, swallowing heavily. Herobrine could only imagine how he felt.

“Now you can understand why I reacted the way I did.”

Steve nodded, still staring at Blake. Herobrine noticed how the hand on his stomach was gripping his shirt tightly and shaking. He squeezed Steve’s hand again and reached up to turn Steve’s head towards him.

“He won’t touch you again, alright? I’ll make sure of it.”

Steve’s pallor had paled and he looked vaguely sick when he nodded. “I…I know you will. I just—I wasn’t expecting to see him again. I know that I’m fine, a-after what happened, but I can’t help but feel…I-I don’t know, dread? Whenever I think about it—“ Steve trailed off as his voice choked up, but Herobrine understood. He could tell that whenever Steve had previously mentioned Blake’s name, his body reacted as if stressed. And now having the man himself back, right in front of them, it must be hard on Steve.

“You don’t have to be okay after what happened. It was traumatic,” Herobrine assured, watching in dismay as Steve attempted to stave off a breakdown. “Nobody would expect you to get over it anytime soon.”

Steve took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. His previously lax hand in Herobrine’s grip squeezed back hard.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Herobrine tugged Steve close and wrapped his other arm around his boyfriend, hugging tightly.

“We’ll get through this together, okay?”

Steve nodded against his shoulder and they stayed like that for a few minutes, each drawing comfort from the other. Eventually Steve pulled away and took a deep, calm breath. Herobrine smiled at him.

“Better?”

“A little. You?”

“A little. Which is probably as good as can be expected.” He patted Steve’s shoulder before pulling Steve’s pack closer to him and starting to root around for a shirt. He grabbed one of the ones Alex had gotten for him and started tearing it into a long strip. Steve’s look said everything.

“I need to restrain Blake,” Herobrine explained. Once the shirt was reduced to a makeshift rope, he got up and walked over to Blake, not so gently nudging him onto his stomach before yanking his arms behind his back and tying his wrists together. He paused before he finished, looking over at Steve.

“Do you feel anything?”

Steve shook his head. Herobrine looked back down at Blake, considering something. It would be a good idea to get a feel for how much damage exactly was mirrored onto Steve. “What about this?”

He kicked Blake in the side, not hard but not gentle either. Steve twitched and grimaced, but it cleared quickly. “Yeah kinda. You know when parts of your body starting hurting for no reason? Like a weird, sharp ache before it disappears? That’s what it felt like. It’s gone now though.”

“Hm.” Herobrine finished tying Blake up and moved back over to Steve. “Interesting. Jean said she’ll contact me soon enough to explain more. Poor Buddy might’ve passed out if she’d stayed longer.”

“Is that what happened? When Buddy was holding you back?”

“Yeah. Jean took control over it, she can do that with all endermen. Puts massive strain on their bodies though, so she doesn’t do it often. The endermen are perfectly capable of just relaying messages for her. But in this case her strength was needed to stop me from killing Blake.” He sighed. “As much as I hate her for protecting him, I understand now. Grateful even for her interference.”

“When we were unconscious, she tried to explain a little about what was going on but I didn’t really understand. I guess Blake knew more, they argued a lot.”

“She is old, she can be a little more cryptic than she means to be. However, now that she’s made her move, I can only assume she’ll contact you again to explain more. Jean is fiercely protective of The Void, which includes all the pieces of it scattered to unfortunate humans.”

“I hope she does. Despite how terrifying it was to see her, she at least seems sane and on our side. Or at the very least, not against us. It would be nice to talk to someone powerful like that who doesn’t want us dead.”

Herobrine managed a smile. “I felt the same, when I first met her. Unfortunately our relationship has never been the best, because of the Wither, but maybe now that I’m no longer with it, we can work better together.”

Steve perked up a bit and a wider smile graced his face.

“Oh yeah, that reminds me, when we were talking to her, she told me that the Wither’s real name is Simmons and that calling it that will make it angry like nothing else.”

Herobrine felt genuine happiness at that news and an unexpected laugh bubbled out of him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Simmons? What a joke.”

Steve laughed softly as well. “Yeah, it doesn’t sound very threatening. Kinda makes the Wither seem like just another mob.”

They laughed together for a few moments before settling down, and Herobrine, exhausted from the turbulent series of events, laid down and patted the grass next to him. Steve smiled and accepted the invitation, cuddling up next to him.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Steve broke the silence.

“What are we going to do now?” He asked quietly.

Herobrine took a deep breath and squeezed Steve’s hand where it was resting on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.

“I don’t know. We’ll figure something out.”

Alex didn’t have to wait long. She was on her bed, staring out the window and biting at her nail when Adelaide appeared in her room with Mirai, both of them wary. Alex didn’t blame them, as her note was meant to sound urgent.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Adelaide questioned as Mirai came up to join her on the bed, drawing her into a hug. She reciprocated just as strongly, needing this comfort to help her frazzled mind.

“It’s Steve and Herobrine. They’re gone,” she revealed.

“What?” Adelaide and Mirai asked at the same time, Adelaide surprised and Mirai fearful.

“Why?…How?” Adelaide asked as a follow up, just as lost as Alex felt learning such unexpected information. She shook her head.

“I don’t know. When I got back, all that was left was this letter.” She held it out for Adelaide to read despite its meager contents offering no clues.

“Well shit,” Adelaide observed. Alex nodded.

“That about sums it up.”

“If Juneau finds out we lost Herobrine—“

“I know.”

“Fuck. Fuck!” Adelaide cursed. Alex couldn’t blame her, even as she was surprised at Adelaide’s uncharacteristic reaction. Juneau was unhinged right now and a mistake this big could turn him against even her. He wouldn’t be able to see reason, just the fact that Alex had let Herobrine out of her sight. To him that’d be punishable by death, of that no one doubted.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Mirai asked. Alex sighed.

“Our best bet would be to grab Steve and force Herobrine to come to us. He’ll chase Steve anywhere, I’m sure of it. I don’t think we have another option. If I show up after they said goodbye, they’ll question me. Herobrine already distrusts me, I noticed that easily enough on our trip. Plus it’d raise the question of how I even found them. No, we’ll have to show our hand a bit, as dangerous as it is.”

“No, you’re right. I think that’s the best option. It also allows us time to come up with a plan on how to prevent Herobrine from killing us all when he gets there. And how to convince Juneau to keep Steve alive.”

“Sounds like a lot of opportunity for things to go wrong,” Mirai pointed out.

Alex sighed. Understatement of the century. They’d be lucky to all get through this with their lives. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

Adelaide crumpled the note up and clenched her fist. “Okay. Let’s come up with a quick plan just to find and capture Steve, then we’ll go from there.”

Chapter Text

To make matters worse, it started raining.

Steve was still shaken up from the encounter with Jean—he couldn’t even begin to fathom meeting an actual dragon, holy shit—and learning that, against all odds, Blake had found him. He was trying to convince himself to be strong, to be unaffected, to just…accept that Blake was here now and he could handle it but it was hard. By the Gods, it was hard.

He wanted to find a place where he and Herobrine could talk. Where they could be together and be left alone. Where they didn’t have to worry about literally everything and everyone trying to kill them. Steve really didn’t think that was asking too much.

And, as if to answer, the universe saw fit to rain on them. Not a good sign.

After waking from the encounter with Jean, and after Herobrine had knocked Blake out, they hadn’t had much time or desire—at least on Steve’s part—to talk about it, as it had become overcast with the promise of rain, plummeting Herobrine’s mood even more. Buddy had warbled something that Steve needed no translation for, as he was reminded just by having Buddy draw attention to itself that endermen and rain didn’t mix. Steve had suggested looking for better shelter, as the clearing they were currently in didn’t have thick trees that could help block the impending downpour. So they’d filled up any empty water bottles Steve had in his pack with water from the river and moved on. Herobrine had commanded Buddy to carry Blake and though Buddy appeared sullen, the enderman complied, hefting Blake’s unconscious body over its shoulder.

Luck was on their side for once when they found a run down, abandoned house. Well, it was more of a shack, and missing part of one wall, but it had a roof and was relatively dry though cold inside, plus it provided a buffer against the wind, which he was sure Herobrine appreciated. They settled just as it started to rain in earnest, and now found themselves with the perfect time to actually talk, though Steve felt a lump swell in his throat whenever he tried opening his mouth to speak. Eventually he decided to just wait the silence out, listening to the pitter patter of the rain against the roof and the wind blowing the trees around.

Blake had been laid down on one side of the little shack, and despite Buddy’s strange mood, it was seated next to Steve, though more subdued than he’d ever seen it. He wished he could talk to it, but he didn’t want to ask Herobrine to translate for him. Hopefully later when they were all in a better mood, he could ask it what might be wrong.

On his other side, Herobrine was staring hard at the ground with a frown on his face. He looked deep in thought and that did kinda put Steve off of breaking the silence. For some reason he felt…embarrassed wasn’t quite the word, but it was the closest he felt. He had the ridiculous notion that what’d happened was his fault, or that he’d done something wrong. He knew it wasn’t true, he wasn’t blaming himself, he just felt that way and couldn’t explain it. He just knew he disliked it.

Absentmindedly, he brought a hand up to feel along his nose. It wasn’t really aching but he could still feel the phantom pain from the moment Herobrine had punched Blake and he’d felt like someone had just smacked him. So that’s what Jean had been talking about.

Without having talked about it, he still believed both he and Herobrine would agree that Blake getting hurt and Steve feeling it—even to a lesser degree—was a very bad thing. And it was all because of what happened in the plains? If he was understanding correctly, Blake had been trying to take the void he supposedly had inside him but had instead only managed to take a little bit of it, thus connecting them.

But then if that was true, why hadn’t he felt anything until just then, when Herobrine had punched Blake? Surely Blake couldn’t have kept himself out of trouble that long. He found it ridiculous but he was actually missing the days when his biggest concern was whether or not his little plots of farm would be griefed on any given day.

“Is your face okay?”

Steve blinked out of his thoughts and looked over at Herobrine, who was staring at him with a mildly concerned expression. Steve lowered his hand from his face.

“Yeah it’s fine. My nose kinda aches but it’s fleeting.” He shrugged for added effect, trying to write the whole thing off.

Herobrine’s brows furrowed and for a moment Steve believed he was about to apologize—which would be ridiculous—but instead he said, “I wish we weren’t in this shit situation.”

Steve smiled, amused by the blunt but undeniable truth of that statement. He scooted over a bit so he could lean his shoulder against Herobrine’s, reaching over to grab his hand and lace their fingers together, squeezing briefly to comfort the both of them.

“Same.”

He focused on the sound of the rain hitting the roof, but it wasn’t quiet for nearly as long as he expected before Herobrine spoke up again.

“What did it feel like?”

“When you punched Blake?”

Herobrine nodded, and Steve pursed his lips while he thought about it. It wouldn’t make sense for him to lie and say it didn’t hurt, though his instincts urged him to do just that—play off the pain so Herobrine wouldn’t worry. But Herobrine definitely deserved a truthful answer, especially so he knew in the future how much strength to use against Blake if they ever started fighting. Steve wouldn’t put it past Blake to attack them without warning. Maybe he’d even attempt to bait Herobrine into hurting him by being as rude and obnoxious as possible.

“It kinda felt like running face first into something. Not a strong pain necessarily but an aching one that encompassed my whole face. My nose hurt the most, but really, it’s fine now.”

Herobrine took a deep breath and even from that, Steve could tell he was pretty bothered by what’d happened. Steve felt his heart suddenly leap to his throat when he thought about Herobrine blaming himself for something completely out of his control.

He shifted in place a bit to face more towards Herobrine and lifted his other hand to rest on Herobrine’s chest.

“Hey, are you okay?”

That seemed to be just enough to make Herobrine react—he sighed harshly and brought his knees up, simultaneously covering his face with his hands and leaning forward into his knees. Steve was a bit startled by the clear and emotional display.

“No,” came his muffled response.

“Hey, hey, it’s…” He hesitated on saying ‘okay,’ and mended his statement. “It’ll be okay,” he said instead, leaning more toward Herobrine and shifting his arm behind Herobrine’s back to rub it gently, comfortingly. It pained him to see Herobrine so torn about something, especially since it concerned him.

Herobrine lifted his head enough that Steve could see his face, though his attention was solely on his hands as he clenched them so tight they shook.

“I don’t except you to understand what this feels like. I feel the best I ever have. Like I could do anything. Power like I’ve never felt lies just below my skin, itching to get out. But what’s the point of having all this power if I’m useless?”

Herobrine looked at him then, expression twisted with agonized confusion and helplessness. Steve could tell Herobrine genuinely meant that—that he actually believed he was useless. Steve couldn’t think of a more false statement. But even so, he had to try to think of something to say, as the generic ‘you’re not useless’ didn’t sound good enough even to himself, so he refrained. Then, as he was staring at Herobrine’s face, watching his inner conflict eat him up inside, it hit him—the Wither. Of course. Even now, the Wither still had influence over Herobrine’s thoughts and beliefs, even if Herobrine didn’t realize that fact.

“Herobrine,” he started, reaching up to cup Herobrine’s cheek. Behind the crumbled façade of indifference his boyfriend usually displayed, Steve could see the miserableness, the silent and devouring despair laid bare in this moment of weakness—no, not weakness, but vulnerability.

“Your usefulness isn’t in how strong you are. You’re not my knight in shining armor. You’re my boyfriend—my friend and lover.” He blushed admitting that, still so unused to such an intimate relationship. “Just having you around makes me happy. I don’t need you to be infallible, or untouchable, or some kind of God. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable to your emotions is what makes you human.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Herobrine was watching him with rapt attention, eyes wide. “I know you tried to get rid of that part of yourself, but it’s that part of you that makes us possible, right?” He smiled a bit, hoping he could convince Herobrine of the truth—that Steve didn’t expect the same things from Herobrine as the man expected of himself. Steve expected much less, and still he was happy to have Herobrine around. He would be happy even if Herobrine lost everything that made him ‘special’ or ‘dangerous’ because at the end of the day, he’d still have the man himself, and that was more than enough for Steve.

“I…” Herobrine swallowed his nerves and appeared lost, speechless in the wake of Steve’s words. Steve remained silent to let Herobrine think about what he’d said. “I don’t know what to say.” His voice was hushed, his tone wrecked. Steve just smiled at him and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Steve assured quietly into Herobrine’s mouth. He shifted over more, really leaning into Herobrine, and started gently running his fingers up and down his boyfriend’s back, warm affection rushing through him when Herobrine hummed, content with the soothing motions.

Silence settled between them, and rain pelting the roof surrounded them. Buddy was still sitting listlessly, no sign of the usually upbeat enderman Steve was familiar with. The more he thought about it, the more concerned he became, until he found himself looking over his shoulder at the poor enderman, worried over its down mood. Maybe he should question it sooner rather than later…

“Buddy?” He ventured, waiting for it to acknowledge him before continuing. After a few seconds it did, slowly bringing its head up to glance at him, but it made no sound. His heart went out to the poor mob. It had arrived with Blake, after all. The mere thought of anything Blake might have done to force Buddy to help him was too much for Steve to want to ponder.

“Are you okay? Is it the rain?” Buddy hadn’t been okay earlier, but maybe the rain was keeping its mood relatively down. Kinda like Herobrine.

However, Buddy just shook its head and curled in on itself, making a pang of worry shoot through his heart. The enderman had been nothing but helpful and kind to him. Perhaps surprising to feel so strongly about its wellbeing, but Steve had no reason to distrust Buddy, especially after meeting Jean. So seeing it like this made his heart clench.

“It’s my fault,” Herobrine cut in, making Steve look at him. He was staring at the ground, frown back on his face. “I didn’t know it was Buddy at first and I…I hurt it.”

Steve sucked in a breath and looked back over at Buddy. Physically it appeared fine, but clearly whatever had happened between it and Herobrine was bothering it. Maybe even being near Herobrine disturbed the poor thing. But Steve was torn on how to feel. The first thing to surge strongly to the surface was anger—at Herobrine for hurting his friend. But he scolded himself and thought rationally, and looked at the facts. Buddy was traveling with Blake for some unknown reason. He could understand that being left with said enderman while he and Blake were unconscious could cause a strong and violent reaction in Herobrine. But clearly Herobrine hadn’t taken things too far, or Steve would bet Buddy would be dead right now.

“I’m sorry that happened Buddy,” he apologized. “I know he didn’t mean it. He was just upset that Blake was here.” His eyes slid over to the creature Blake was now and he couldn’t suppress a shudder. “Do you know who that is?”

Buddy made a quiet sound and shook its head ‘no.’

“Do you remember when you found me in the plains? And took me home?”

Buddy was still for a moment, its head tilted to the side, before it nodded once. Steve nodded as well, his heart racing as he recalled that night. He could still remember the all-encompassing icy cold, the cold that sunk into his bones and stiffened his limbs.

“B-Blake was the one who left me there. He…” He swallowed nervously, thinking back on what Blake had said while they’d been talking to Jean. “He wants to kill me.”

That inspired the most out of Buddy he’d seen all day. The enderman looked up sharply and though its features did not lend themselves to emotional displays, he believed he could see the agony of betrayal on it. The sound it made pulled directly on Steve’s heartstrings and made his eyes suddenly sting. He blinked them rapidly and took a deep, shaky breath.

Then, without another sound, the enderman disappeared in a burst of purple sparks. Steve opened his mouth but with the enderman already gone, he couldn’t try and convince it to stay. “Buddy…”

“It’s still around,” Herobrine offered quietly. When Steve looked at him, he pointedly did not meet Steve’s gaze. “There’s a cave below us.”

Steve just rubbed at his forehead, hoping he didn’t develop a headache from all this stress. Everything about their situation was fucked top to bottom.

“Are you mad?” Herobrine asked, the most reserved Steve had heard him yet. Steve gave a great sigh, then leaned against his boyfriend’s shoulder again, closing his eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine them literally anywhere else. Maybe relaxing on a hillside while out for a walk. Or taking a break in the shade of a lone acacia tree on the border of a desert while they looked for lost, ancient treasure. Or even basking in the sun after a day of swimming and spending time together. A small smile managed to just barely lift the corners of his mouth at those thoughts.

Just a little bit longer, his mind whispered. Just endure a little while longer and you’ll have all that.

“No, I’m not mad,” he said after a beat. “I understand why you did it. You didn’t know it was Buddy, did you?”

He felt Herobrine shake his head.

“And you would never hurt Buddy on purpose, would you?”

“…No.”

Steve took a deep breath, and on his exhale, let his anger over what Herobrine’d done go. “Then I forgive you.”

Herobrine was quiet, then he shifted, finally opening up to wrap Steve in a hug. His face pressed against the top of Steve’s head, and since his ear was pressed right up against Herobrine’s chest, he could hear the man’s heart racing. He wondered if Herobrine expected a fight, over the fact that he’d hurt Buddy. Maybe anticipated Steve’s disapproval and scolding.

“I’m still sorry,” Herobrine whispered. Outside, the rain continued its steady pounding against the roof. The wind blew harshly against the shack and the trees. Steve would bet this sudden storm was one to last.

He returned the hug Herobrine had him in, tightly gripping his boyfriend around the waist and trying to convey all his love and support through it.

“I know.”

Blake sat with his arms crossed and his feet dangling over the edge of the cliff he was sitting on. He glared out into the black nothingness and ignored the presence behind him.

Blessed with endless patience, apparently, the dragon continued to sit a good few feet behind him, but not far enough away that he couldn’t feel its heated exhales blowing against him.

When the silence and the gaze he could feel boring into the back of his head became too much, he scoffed to himself and finally acknowledged her.

“Is this going to become a regular occurrence? I was literally just here.” He couldn’t believe that the dragon would drag him back here so soon, nor that he’d been knocked out by that Withered bastard. Who even was that guy? Blake knew all the Withered directly under Juneau and that guy was definitely not one.

Only so long as you hold contempt in your heart, came her cryptic response, and he rolled his eyes.

“What the hell’s that even supposed to mean?”

Do you truly not know, or do you just find enjoyment in acting like an idiot?

“What?!” He exclaimed, whipping around to glare at the dragon. “Who you calling an idiot!”

Jean snorted, a hotter blast of air smelling of heavy smoke wafting over him. Her expression read as bored, which pissed him off.

I know you are not an idiot, yet you continue to act as such.

“Oh yeah you think you know me!?” Blake stood up and approached the dragon, stopping barely a foot away from its snout and jabbing his finger into its scales as he yelled. “You don’t know shit! And you definitely don’t know me!”

On the contrary, Jean said, her voice as calm and unbothered as ever. I know a great deal about you.

“I don’t think you know shit about me,” Blake growled.

They stared at each other for a moment before Blake huffed and turned around, marching back over to the cliff and plopping down on it, crossing his arms again as he waited to wake up. He wasn’t going to keep playing this game. He had one goal in mind and he wasn’t going to let yet another fucking mob keep him from completing it.

He startled when Jean’s massive head settled on the ground beside him, snout hanging over the edge. He glared at her but said nothing, returning his gaze to the nothingness before them as he stoutly ignored her.

Blake, I’m not here to tell you what to do, only to try and guide you down the right path.

Blake snorted, clearly showing his disbelief, but still refused to speak.

You can pretend all you want, but you are connected to me now. Through your actions with Steve, you have ensured a bond between us. Humans like Steve have purple eyes for a reason.

At that he looked over, to see her brilliant and otherworldly purple eyes staring at him. Surprisingly the gaze wasn’t intense, instead he got the impression she was trying to be gentle with him.

“So what, that means you know me?” He snapped, turning away and huffing. He had kinda wondered why he looked more like an enderman than the other Withered. Even after getting power from that Wither in the Nether, he was more enderman-like than ever. If he believed her, then the reason was because of what happened in the plains, where his ritual apparently backfired.

In a way, yes. I am privy to memories and emotions, sometimes thoughts. But I will not try and dictate your every action like Simmons might. My purpose does not align with destruction.

Blake just crossed his arms tighter and hunched in on himself, frowning out at the vast expanse of emptiness before him. He didn’t like that this giant mob was trying to seem motherly towards him, or make him believe it actually cared about him. Nobody cared about him anymore and he wasn’t going to let this mob that he’d just met that day dupe him into thinking otherwise.

Jean sighed greatly and finally left him alone, wandering off somewhere. Blake looked over his shoulder to watch it, unable to help himself, but when he caught her staring at him he quickly turned his head back around and scolded himself. Don’t fall for it. She’s just a mob.

However, as time seemed to both stretch on endlessly and crawl at a snail’s pace, his curiosity and boredom got the better of him. Grumbling to himself, he stood and made his way over to Jean, who was standing beside a haunting of endermen. His instinct was to avert his eyes from the tall mobs as he approached.

You need not avoid them, Jean said, silently gesturing with a giant paw for the endermen to disperse, which they did. They won’t attack you anymore.

“Yeah, well, old habits I guess,” he muttered, crossing his arms before her. He didn’t want small talk, he wanted answers.

Yes I suppose, she relented easily enough, lowering herself to his level, massive head a few feet from him. Despite the lack of intensity in her stare, he didn’t necessarily like being the center of it. If you want answers, you need only ask.

He made a face. He definitely disliked the idea of her reading his mind, but she said sometimes she could do it. When he was unconscious, he’d bet. So he said nothing about it and instead questioned her about his condition.

“What really happened that night in the plains? And why the hell do I look like this?”

She made a gentle sound. You must understand that I am not omniscient. I do not have every answer you may seek. That being said, in regards to your condition, I feel the answer is fairly simple. You see, the Void inside humans is not merely an attachment to them. It’s part of their very beings; fundamentally they are one and the same. So to try and take it, well, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the Void might defend itself, so to speak. You are lucky you didn’t die from the backlash. Even more lucky that the fragment you were able to break off didn’t result in more serious repercussions.

“More serious than this?” He gestured to himself and his body’s gray hue, his purple eyes.

A simple change of eye and skin color is not indicative to disease or ailment, if that’s what you think. It is the presence of Void within you at all which is causing your palette change. Like I said earlier, humans like Steve have purple eyes for a reason. The same reason myself and my endermen have purple eyes and black hides.

Blake crossed his arms. “Great, so what exactly does that mean for me?”

Nothing, so long as the main source of your Void remains unharmed.

Blake scowled. This fucking sucked.

“You mean I can’t kill Steve.”

Jean bowed her head, like a slow nod. If you want to continue living, he also must live. But do not blame him. He truly had no hand in the backlash that caused your current state.

Blake sighed greatly and kicked at the strange yellow ground. The thought of giving up the goal that’d been his driving force ever since waking in the Nether was unpleasant to say the least. Plus, there was a rage inside him that almost seemed otherwordly in its intensity. Or like it belonged to someone else. And it needed an outlet.

Jean made a sound to get his attention.

Having power from Simmons is undoubtedly the cause of any emotional upheavals you might be experiencing. Your ill will towards Steve makes more sense if Simmons also harbors that same ill will.

Blake frowned. This was all much more out of his depth than he’d been expecting. But…her words made sense. Before he’d enacted his plan, he had not wanted Steve dead anymore than he wanted any random stranger dead. That is to say, he really couldn’t have cared whether the fool lived or died. But this whole time, since waking in the Nether, that rage had simmered beneath his skin. The thought of killing Steve was a pleasant one—mollified the anger a bit. But perhaps there was more history between Steve and that Wither than Blake knew about, and it was that history that was affecting him so.

He felt suddenly uncomfortable. In his life of work, people used his skills all the time, whether it be to kill or his knowledge of the ancient enchanting language. Most recently, it’d been Juneau pulling his strings. But now, imagining the faces of that Wither in the Nether…he felt used on an entirely different level, and decidedly did not like it.

“I…I guess that makes sense,” he said, a little unsure. Jean nodded.

Good. I will be here, should you require further clarity. But for now, I shall allow your return to the Overworld.

Just like before, his sight was stolen as the ground seemingly dropped out from beneath him. High speed wind ripped past his ears and his stomach churned as he was catapulted towards consciousness.

With no sign of the rain stopping any time soon, Steve decided they may as well prepare to camp in the shack for the night. He seriously doubted Herobrine would be willing to sleep because of Blake, so he didn’t bother asking about where to set up the bedroll. Instead he laid it out where Buddy had been sitting. Feeling the thin material of the bedroll had him sighing in longing—he already missed the comfort of an actual bed.

Once that was done, he set his pack on the wall next to the bedroll and stood to stretch. Herobrine watched him the whole time, still oddly subdued. The rain and colder temperature was to blame there, surely, yet Steve couldn’t help but feel like maybe something was wrong. He and Herobrine had made their peace with both Blake’s sudden appearance and Herobrine hurting Buddy, so Steve wasn’t sure what could be causing the lingering and stilted silence between them. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it, and decided action would help overcome it.

“Do you think we can build a fire?” He asked, forcing himself to sound casual. His throat felt dry, like it wanted to trap all his words before they could make it out. He knelt to dig out a water bottle and took a healthy swig, though he felt only marginally better once he was done.

Herobrine shrugged. “Might have to get creative but probably.”

Steve nodded, satisfied with that. “Perfect. I’ll go collect some wood, okay? I’ll stay close.”

“What?” Herobrine had looked away while he’d taken his drink of water but his attention snapped back at Steve’s words. “No, I’ll go.”

Steve shook his head and knelt in front of Herobrine, putting his hands on tense shoulders. He smiled.

“I can collect the wood, it’s fine. You stay as warm as you can in here and keep an eye on our unwelcome guest, alright?”

At the mention of Blake, Herobrine’s mouth—open undoubtedly to offer up a convincing argument as to why he should, in fact, go out in the cold rain to search for wood—closed and his argument seemed to die in his throat. Sure, Steve recognized that Herobrine wanted to go out and save him the trouble of having to collect wood in the rain, but the prospect of leaving Steve with Blake—even though he was unconscious—was unpleasant enough that Herobrine dropped it immediately.

Didn’t mean he had to like it though, as Steve saw the evidence of his annoyance clear as day in his expression.

“Just…be careful,” Herobrine ventured, and Steve smiled, small and soft, leaning in to give Herobrine a quick peck on his pouty mouth.

“I will be. Like I said, I’ll stay close. Won’t take me too long.”

He pulled the hood of his cloak up before scurrying out from the shelter of the shack and to the trees nearby, trying to stay in the cover of the canopy as much as possible. Above, through the gaps between the leaves, the sky was dark and clouded. The rain pelting around him created a kind of foggy effect that had him shivering from more than just the cold. He didn’t like to think about who might be out there, hiding from him in the easy cover of the fog. Instead, he focused on finding small sticks and suitable logs Herobrine could light on fire. He might have thought lighting a fire from water logged wood to be impossible, but with Herobrine’s powers, they could probably figure something out.

Around five minutes into his search, and after having found nearly an armful of wood he felt would work, he gasped and flinched as a sudden and burning pain encircled his wrists, so brief he might have imagined it. The wood spilled from his arms as he grimaced and looked at his wrists. It had felt like someone had just been grabbing him too hard before letting go. He could see his skin already begin to redden, and was confused for a solid twenty seconds before he realized that nothing had actually happened to him.

Feeling his heart lurch in his chest from his realization, he scrambled to collect the wood again and ran back to the shack, afraid of what he might see.

When he returned to the shack and opened the door, Blake was sitting casually where he’d been laying, awake now and free of his bindings, and Herobrine was standing with his fists shaking at his sides, rage plastered on his face as he glared down at Blake. And when Blake’s attention shifted from the wall to Steve, still standing stunned in the doorway, he felt his stomach drop.

The coldness of the night, the weakness of his body, Buddy having to help him home, the pain in his arms and stomach—

“Finally. Tell your dog here to calm the fuck down, would ya’?”

Steve blinked out of his thoughts and swallowed hard, taking as deep and even breaths as he could. He squeezed the wood harder in his arms to stop them from shaking.

“Why…should he be calm?” Steve said, nearly sick. It took effort to keep his voice relatively steady. “When we were with that—When we were with Jean, you said you wanted to k-kill me.”

Steve was about to have a godsdamn panic attack if his heavy breathing and fast paced heart beat was any indication, but Blake just huffed and rolled his eyes, or at least appeared to. Steve was getting used to recognizing the motion from when Herobrine would do it.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Look, that dragon gave me the rundown, all right? I get it, I won’t kill you because believe it or not, I don’t want to die either.” Blake held up his hands like this was all just some big misunderstanding before resting his arm on his knee and returning his borderline bored look to the wall again. Steve didn’t know if his nonchalant behavior was a blessing or a curse, but despite his panic, he did recognize that Blake said he didn’t want to kill him anymore, so that was a plus.

Even if Blake wasn’t technically a threat anymore, Steve couldn’t stop his mind from labeling him as such. His body refused to calm down, and the aching of his wrists didn’t help. Eventually he realized he was soaking wet still holding all the wood he’d collected, so he dropped it, taking a step closer to Herobrine to put a hand on his arm.

“Herobrine…” Was all Steve could think to say, unsure of where to even begin with this new development. Herobrine looked over at him, and Steve must have looked like some pathetic kicked puppy, for the anger on his face faltered a bit.

But just as soon as Herobrine appeared to let the anger die, it returned with a vengeance as he turned and stormed out of the shack, slamming the door open and stalking out into the rain. Steve opened his mouth but could not think of something to say—the anger in Herobrine’s every movement made him hesitate, no matter what he told himself.

Comfort him. He won’t hurt you.

But he didn’t move. He was left watching, helpless, as Herobrine paced in the rain.

“That’s Herobrine?” Came Blake’s completely unnecessary commentary. Steve was torn between telling him to shut the hell up and completely afraid of doing just that. And it didn’t sit right with him that he couldn’t defend his own boyfriend, even in something as menial as this. The thought of Blake retaliating was too—he couldn’t—

He heard Blake scoff, but thankfully the man said no more.

Outside, Herobrine was not losing steam like Steve might have expected. His expression was so twisted in anger and confusion that Steve’s heart physically ached seeing it.

“Is this my punishment!?” Herobrine yelled to the sky, emotion resonating in every syllable. “Have I not suffered enough?! Or are you all just having such a grand fucking time watching us flounder!?”

Steve bit his lip and gripped the doorframe, standing in the threshold of the shack. This was too much. With Blake and the Wither and Adelaide’s group and now Jean’s involvement—Steve understood and shared Herobrine’s frustrations.

“If you weren’t all a bunch of fucking cowards you’d just come down and smite me where I stand, put me out of my fucking misery!” Herobrine held out his arms as if tempting the Aether Gods to do just that. Steve’s breath hitched—the very thought of the Gods taking this opportunity to finally reveal themselves wrapped an iron fist around his heart and lungs, squeezed ruthlessly and stole his breath away. His grip on the doorframe tightened but his legs refused to move.

A few moments later, Herobrine dropped to his knees and yelled wordless fury, slamming his fists into the soft, wet grass. The sopping dirt stood no chance against Herobrine’s brute strength and cratered beneath him. A reverberating shockwave blasted through the soil at high speed. Steve would have stumbled if he didn’t already have a deathgrip on the doorframe. The old shack shook and creaked ominously, and even in the rain, dust was kicked up around them. Behind him, Blake cursed as he was knocked around by the violent shaking, as if an earthquake had just struck. Steve coughed as the dust cleared, and his eyes went wide at the sight Herobrine had made.

The crater was much larger than Steve would have expected. He knew Herobrine was strong, much stronger than any human, but this…this was something else entirely. The crater itself was a good ten feet across and somewhere around three feet deep. Large cracks cut through the ground surrounding it—the epicenter of terrible destruction.

Something must have become shifted along the roof as Steve felt a thin stream of water periodically land on the top of his head and trail down his face. But he paid it no mind save to wipe his eyes clear, too stunned to move.

Too afraid, his treacherous mind whispered.

“Geez,” Blake said, sounding equally impressed and annoyed. “Forget I said anything.”

Steve ignored Blake, pried his hand from the doorframe, and forced his legs to carry him over to Herobrine. He was careful navigating the broken terrain, and slid gently into the crater so he could kneel before Herobrine. His armor did nothing to protect his jeans from getting muddy but he ignored the cold, soggy feeling. Reaching out and pulling Herobrine into a tight hug was more important.

His heart was racing, his blood ran cold in his veins, and his instincts were screaming to run, but he just held on tight and told himself to calm down. Herobrine needed him, if the way he hugged back fiercely was any indication, sure, strong arms wrapping surprisingly gently but still tight around his frame, given his display of awesome strength not five minutes ago. He felt like it was some kind of betrayal, to fear Herobrine after everything they’d been through. To fear Herobrine when he’d given Steve no real reason to. It was always the Wither inciting those feelings of fear and doubt in him, and using Herobrine to do it. He had to remember that.

His body started to relax the longer they sat there, embracing in the rain. Herobrine’s near death grip slowly loosened, until he eventually pulled back. He wiped a hand over his face but Steve couldn’t tell if it was the rain or something else Herobrine probably wouldn’t admit.

The rain continued to fall around them. If he hadn’t been soaked from gathering the wood earlier he definitely was now, and thoroughly. The colder wind that blew past them didn’t help, sending shivers racking through his body. Coupled with the rain, he felt miserable being outside and victim to the elements. Yet he endured for as long as they remained sitting in front of each other. They’d pulled away from the hug but Steve was holding both of Herobrine’s hands in his, watching his face for any more signs of a potential break but he just looked tired. So tired and done with everything. Steve understood what that felt like and sympathized with everything he had, squeezing Herobrine’s hands to offer his silent support.

The longer he sat there, the more intense and frequent his shivers became, and his grip on Herobrine’s hands loosened as his own hands started to become numb from the cold. He needed to get out of the rain and somewhere warm or he was definitely going to regret it. Hopefully he didn’t develop a cold from this.

It took effort to stand on uncooperative legs but he managed it without letting Herobrine’s hands go. When he was up, he tugged to encourage Herobrine to stand as well, which he did after a moment, much to Steve’s relief.

“Come on, we should go back inside and light that fire,” he coaxed gently, pulling Herobrine behind him as he did just that. Water was leaking into the shack from the roof in various places but so far it was merely in drips, so Steve ignored it. They should find better shelter soon anyway. Maybe Herobrine could sense an exposed cave nearby.

Without a word, Herobrine arranged the wood in the center of the floor. The biggest log he held between both hands and spontaneously, the wood erupted into flames. Hissing accompanied the rising of steam as the hotter temperature evaporated the water soaked into the wood. On some cue unknown to Steve, Herobrine placed the log onto the bundle of sticks and smaller logs.

It took a worrisome moment but eventually the rest of the wood caught fire, and the shack was comforted by the soft, warm glow of a campfire.

Steve sighed happily and scooted closer than he might have normally. The warmth from the fire felt positively divine on his weary and exhausted body, and the dancing flames were calming to watch. He couldn’t convince himself everything was fine, as if he and Herobrine were simply enjoying a fire on a particularly cold and rainy night, but it was nice to imagine it. However, one glance to his left and any potential illusion was shattered by seeing Blake.

He shuddered despite the warmth and looked away, swallowing heavily. He hoped he adjusted to Blake’s presence sometime soon.

A light touch to his leg drew his attention from the flames and his thoughts. Herobrine was looking at him, expression of exhaustion and worry illuminated by the fire. His eyes seemed duller than normal.

“Are you okay?” Was what Herobrine said, but Steve heard something else entirely.

Did I scare you?

He shook his head and offered a small smile.

“I’m okay,” he assured, covering Herobrine’s hand with his own and squeezing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” Herobrine apologized. Steve shook his head.

“I understand. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Blake grumbled something off to the side but wisely didn’t say anything. As Steve was watching Herobrine’s face, he saw the way his lips curled in disgust and his weary countenance morphed into visible anger. But Herobrine just looked away, taking a deep breath and letting it out harshly.

Steve too would rather ignore Blake for the foreseeable future, but he knew that would be impossible and impractical. As much as he disliked Blake, they would be able to use him, if he cooperated.

So with a resigned sigh, he shifted to be facing Blake.

“Can you tell me what happened, after…after that night?” He started. Blake didn’t look at him while he spoke, glaring at the wall.

“No, because I don’t remember. One moment I was with you in that plains, the next I was waking up in the Nether in front of a Wither.” Blake scowled. “Unpleasant bastard.”

Steve only knew one Wither, and ‘unpleasant bastard’ was a severe understatement. “It didn’t try to kill you?”

“No. It gave me some of its power and told me to deliver a letter.”

Steve was surprised to hear that. Blake didn’t have white eyes like Herobrine, after all. However, though purple, his eyes were not like a human’s nor an enderman’s. In that regard they were like Herobrine’s—one solid color.

“A letter? That’s…” Steve paused and pursed his lips, thinking of an appropriate word to use. “…tame, for the Wither.”

Blake snorted. “No shit. But I don’t have it anymore, and I don’t know what it said, so don’t ask. I never opened it.”

Steve was going to ask, but just sighed. “Where were you taking it?”

At that, Blake finally looked at him, his eyes narrowed. Steve swallowed his nerves and cursed his body’s fearful reaction. He was so tired of being afraid.

“I was instructed to deliver it to our Wither. Then I was told to return to the Nether.”

By ‘our,’ Blake must mean the Wither that gave Adelaide and her colleagues powers. The second summoned Wither that had remained in the Overworld this whole time.

“Did you deliver it?” It would have been nice to know what the contents of that letter could have possibly been. Like he’d said, it was tame—didn’t fit the Wither’s style at all.

Blake shifted and crossed his arms, almost looking guilty. Surely Steve was just imagining it.

“No. I was confronted by two of the Withered before I could reach Graven and they took it.” Blake seemed like he wanted to say something, hesitated, and then went for it anyway. “That was yesterday.”

In the corner of his eye, he saw Herobrine finally look over. Steve knew why.

“Yesterday? How’d you find us so quickly then?” Sure, Buddy might have teleported them a number of times, but the timing just seemed off. Buddy and Blake had appeared to them that morning and only yesterday had been confronted by two Withered. Surely they would have had to be close then.

“I was following a pull,” Blake explained. “Ever since arriving in the Overworld, I’ve had this feeling in my chest leading me somewhere. I followed it to you.”

Steve did not like the sound of that. Blake had basically been given an internal compass leading directly to the person he’d wanted to kill. But now that Jean had offered a bit of an explanation, he figured it must have been a side effect of Blake’s actions that night. The piece of void inside him trying to return home. Not malicious in nature, and thankfully Jean had convinced Blake not to kill him. He’d have to thank her the next time they spoke.

Steve rubbed a hand over his forehead, wondering what the hell their next step could be. Now that Blake and Buddy were with them, and Jean had made herself known to them, he could only assume that their troubles were far from over. And his and Blake’s situation was on an entirely different level. If Blake got hurt or died…Steve would too. There had to be a way to reverse that, or he’d be stuck with Blake the rest of his life. The thought was dreadful.

“What can you tell us about your group?” Herobrine asked. Steve glanced at him, but Herobrine’s gaze was solidly on Blake. Steve looked back at Blake as well, just as curious.

“Only that it’s made up of a bunch of little, spineless bitches and the leader Juneau is fucking crazy.”

“The leader is not the Wither?” Herobrine asked.

Blake barked out a laugh. “Nah, Juneau summoned it to the Overworld like 150 years ago or something like that.”

“How?”

Blake gave Herobrine a look like he was an idiot. “Using your notes, duh.”

Herobrine made a low sound in his throat and his mouth twisted into an angry frown. “What’s Juneau’s goal, then?”

Blake hummed in consideration. “You know, I don’t actually know. All I know is that he wants a bunch of people like you—“ He pointed at Steve, “—collected and brought to Graven. A bunch are collected until there’s a mass sacrifice. I’m not sure if there’s something more to the killings though.” Blake put a hand to his chin. “Now that I think about it, it would be weird to house a bunch of prisoners for an extended amount of time just to kill them aimlessly. He must have some reason.”

“Nothing good I’m sure.” Herobrine said, then shifted his attention to Steve. “If all those captured have purple eyes, it must be for that bit of void inside them. It could also be that this Juneau is looking not for void, but for purple-eyed individuals that were influenced by the Aether. I doubt that however, as I’ve heard that people influenced by the Aether instead of the Void are exceedingly rare.”

“No, I think it’s definitely for the Void. I may not be an expert or in Juneau’s inner circle but I’m not an idiot. Withers don’t like the Aether, in any form. It must be for the void.” Blake shrugged. “Maybe Juneau wants to make his Wither stronger.”

“That is…admittedly one possibility,” Herobrine agreed, though he made it sound like it pained him. “Preferably I would hope to never find out but I don’t think that’s going to happen.” Herobrine rolled his eyes as he said it.

Blake raised a brow. “Is that why you ditched Alex?”

Steve could have sworn he felt his heart stop. Beside him, he saw Herobrine tense, hands clenching into shaking fists.

“What?” Herobrine said slowly, angry growl sending a shudder down Steve’s spine. He swallowed heavily, mind racing with questions. Maybe they were misunderstanding? Maybe Blake didn’t mean to make it sound so bad? Maybe—M-Maybe…

Blake looked between them before realization dawned on him and he laughed. “Oh shit, you guys didn’t know about her, did you?” The genuine mirth in Blake’s tone was disheartening. “Alex is a scout, she works to find and befriend our targets, get their trust and sometimes lead them to Graven, depending on where they are.” Blake shrugged and looked at him. “She’s pretty good at her job, and I know she had her eyes on you. Since she’s not here I figured you guys must have known and left her behind.” He shook his head with a smile. “Man, that’s crazy. Can’t believe you guys never figured that out.”

Steve was just numbly staring at the ground, completely lost. This whole time Alex had actually been playing them? All those times he’d spent with her, thinking he’d found a genuine and good friend…All the help she’d offered them throughout their journey…Did it mean nothing?

He put a hand to his chest. His heart ached so strongly it was a physical thing, thumping painfully against his ribs. Breathing was becoming difficult. Short little gasps were all he could manage. His vision blurred as he recalled all the times she’d lied and tricked them.

He was snapped out of his impending break down by the sudden and intense flare of fire right next to him. Both he and Blake flinched hard at the scorching heat. Blake covered his face with his arm while Steve lifted his cloak to shield him. Without fire protection it did little to offer him relief. Dual sensations of minor burning seared along his skin, both exposed and covered by clothes and armor—Blake’s exposure echoing onto him. His arm in particular was tingingly, corresponding to the arm Blake was holding up.

Herobrine was not trying to contain his rage, though his expression was slightly tempered as he glared at the now inferno that was once their campfire. Steve looked down at Herobrine’s clenched hands and gasped softly when he saw blood dripping from between his fingers.

Then, without warning, the fire exploded.

Steve cried out in surprise and was thankfully spared being speared by small splinters by his cloak. However, pain along various parts of his body started to bleed into his consciousness and he looked over at Blake, who had no cloak to shield him, and was wearing thin and basic clothing, hardly enough to stand up against a small explosion. The arm he’d been holding up was littered with small splinters, reflecting what Steve felt in his own arm. And though already healing, Blake’s skin was also burned fairly modestly.

Steve did not have healing powers. He hissed through his teeth as he lowered the cloak and felt his entire arm light up with pain. The sight it made was not as bad as Blake’s, mostly because he didn’t actually have splinters in his arm, but the burn reflected well enough. A good chunk of his forearm was seared a nasty red, but whatever magic bullshit made him and Blake share injuries at least didn’t make it one-to-one. He would only call it a first degree burn but it still hurt.

He startled again when Herobrine stood up and opened the old door so hard it was ripped from its hinges and clattered to the ground. Steve stared at him with wide eyes as he once again stalked out into the rain.

The pitter patter of rain was the only sound to break the deafening silence left behind by the explosion and Herobrine’s aggressive exit.

“Holy fuck, that guy needs anger management lessons,” Blake commented. Steve swallowed nervously.

“It’s…It’s not his f-fault,” Steve answered, still shaken. He slumped, feeling more worn than ever before. Half of him was still numb from finding out about Alex. “T-The Wither—“

“Yeah yeah, Jean told me. Can influence emotions or some other such bullshit.”

Steve didn’t bothering answering after that. He jumped when a loud thud and the felling of a tree echoed around them. Through the rain he could just see Herobrine in the midst of the trees, arm already reared back to punch again.

Steve looked away and took a deep breath, trying to get his breathing back under control. His hands were shaking and he clenched them tightly, ashamed to be afraid. When Herobrine started yelling, he closed his eyes hard, heart aching.

A sudden urge came over him and he bolted from the shack. Blake might have yelled for him but he ignored it, running straight into Herobrine and wrapping his arms around him tightly.

“It’s okay, please, it’s okay,” he repeated. Despite the cold and rain, Herobrine’s body was radiating heat, almost too much for Steve. But he just held on tight.

“It’s not okay,” Herobrine said. Steve opened his eyes, not even realizing he’d closed them and had his face pressed into Herobrine’s chest. He looked up, eyes widening when Herobrine gripped his upper arms tight but gentle, and looked directly into his eyes.

“I’m going to kill her, do you understand? I told you, didn’t I? Do you remember that? I’m going to kill her. Everything she did…” Herobrine trailed off and Steve couldn’t hold back the sudden and encompassing wave of betrayal and sadness that was just hitting him now. He pressed his face back into Herobrine’s chest and began to cry.

He didn’t know how long they stood there in the pouring rain, and he didn’t care. He clung to Herobrine and cried and cried, until his tears dried up and his sobs tapered into stuttered breaths. And through it all, Herobrine held him up and held him close. He was cold and soaked to the bone but nowhere was more comfortable than in Herobrine’s arms.

Once he felt a little more collected—tired with burning eyes and freezing limbs, sure, but collected none the less—he started to pull back a bit. Or at least he tried. Herobrine’s grip around his back was strong, but Steve was able to wiggle enough room between them so he could cup Herobrine’s face and bring their mouths together. Herobrine made a small sound in the back of his throat, raising one hand to cup the back of Steve’s head as they kissed.

Steve let his worries melt away for just a moment, as they enjoyed each other. Just one singular moment before the universe decided they needed more punishment in their lives.

Steve pulled away when he couldn’t breath, and pressed his forehead to Herobrine’s.

“I understand,” is all he said in reply. He felt Herobrine nod.

Then, Herobrine tensed again. Noticeably. Steve looked up sharply, heart in his throat, but Herobrine was looking into the trees with a severe expression. Steve felt his breath catch in his lungs, his pulse pounding in his ears. What now?

The answer walked out from between the trees, glowing white eyes focused on them.

“Such a touching moment,” Adelaide commented, strangely sincere. At least, Steve didn’t hear any tones of sarcasm. “Perhaps I’ve chosen a bad time.” She bowed her head. “My apologies.”

The growl that rumbled in Herobrine’s chest made Steve swallow in nervous apprehension, and the sight of Adelaide alone made fear shoot through his body. They didn’t need this, not now, please…

“Believe whatever you wish, but I did not come here to fight.” She held up her hands, as if trying to prove to them that she really meant that, but even Steve didn’t believe her. “I’m merely here to explain the circumstances that’s lead to this moment, and why it would be in your best interests to come with me to Graven and speak to my leader.”

Neither Herobrine nor Steve answered. The rain fell heavier around them, and Steve shivered. Then, Herobrine’s grip loosened and his shoulders started shaking and he—

He laughed.

Steve couldn’t help but stare, baffled, as Herobrine put a hand over his eyes and genuinely laughed. He was worried now more than ever that something might have finally broken in Herobrine’s mind. There was definitely nothing funny about this situation. Adelaide showing up now of all times was just about the worse that could happen, save from one of the Aether Gods descending upon them, or the Wither crawling out from the depths of the Nether.

Without warning, Herobrine disappeared from beside him, teleporting over to Adelaide already mid punch. He wasn’t laughing anymore. However, with Herobrine away from him, she teleported next to him and grabbed his arm.

It only took a split second for her to realize that she couldn’t teleport while touching him, the shock of that revelation making her eyes widen and her mouth drop open.

“What? Why can’t I—“ She never got the chance to finish as Herobrine appeared next to them and punched her square in the face, sending her flying into the trees behind them. A great cacophony of wood splintering followed her. Herobrine shifted to stand in front of Steve, summoning an iron sword and holding it in front of him.

Steve didn’t understand how anyone, Withered or not, could survive such a brutal punch. But when Adelaide appeared again, she was, unfortunately for them, still alive. But her tunic was greatly stained red around the collar and there was a small limp to her step. The skin of her face was reddened and streaked with blood.

“I said I didn’t come here to fight!” She yelled. Steve could barely hear her over the pounding of the rain on the soaked grass, but he refused to get any closer. He’d learned his lesson about getting in the way. And yet she’d still tried to get to him. Maybe he should move over to the shack…

“I don’t care!” Herobrine snarled back, brandishing his sword.

“Please, I just wanted to talk! You don’t understand, nobody has to die! We can negotiate—“

“No! You can leave us alone forever or die on my sword!” Herobrine yelled, and lunged again, so quick he might have teleported. But it looked different than normal. Herobrine’s strength already appeared to have increased, it wouldn’t be too out there to assume his speed might as well.

Whatever was happening, it was clearly giving Adelaide trouble, especially after that punch. Her healing wasn’t on par with Herobrine’s, nor her strength and speed. She was constantly on the backpedal, dodging instead of striking, and only because she barely had the time to do so. Herobrine looked so focused and determined, Steve knew he’d prevail. Through the rain and the distance between them, it was hard to see if Adelaide was getting hit by Herobrine’s attacks or not, but given the way she sometimes held her hand over a spot on her body, Steve would bet that yes, Herobrine was hitting his mark.

Though he’d only seen a little of when Herobrine and Sini fought, this Herobrine was completely different. This Herobrine was not actively worrying about Steve, because he didn’t have to. His speed and strength and rage kept Adelaide’s attention solely on him as she could only dodge his attacks while continuing to try and get a word in.

Eventually Adelaide gave up on trying to talk and finally summoned a weapon for herself. Steve saw the flash of light it gave off through the rain as he tried to track their movements. With the added benefit of sparks from metal on metal, it was easier to follow them. Through the trees they teleported and weaved and dodged, sword meeting axe time and time again. But the whole time, Herobrine remained on the offensive while Adelaide was firmly forced into defense. It gave Steve that steadily growing hope that they’d get out of this unscathed.

Then Adelaide got a good foothold and blocked an attack, staggering Herobrine for the first time in minutes, but instead of going for the obvious retaliation, she disappeared, only to reappear directly next to Steve. He cried out and flinched, but her axe coming up to his neck in a clear threat halted any struggling before it could even begin. His shaky breathing periodically made his throat touch the blade and he shuddered in fear. These people weren’t afraid to hurt them.

Across from them, Herobrine was paused with his sword hanging by his side, teeth bared as he waited to see what Adelaide would do.

When Adelaide spoke, her tone was warning enough.

“You should have listened.”

Steve couldn’t even cry out before the blade of the axe sliced clean into his neck.

It was like a punch to the gut for Herobrine. All at once the fight left him in a horrified rush. He watched helplessly as Steve weakly reached for him, only to drop like a rock once Adelaide let him go. His body fell limp onto the soaked grass, and Herobrine could see every rivulet of red diffuse into the water surrounding Steve, glistening ruby red life blood turning murky and washed-out brown.

When the realization hit, it sent him to his knees. The rest of the Overworld faded away, until it was only Steve’s dead body laying on the cold ground. The sound of the pouring rain disappeared to the high pitched ringing in his ears. His heart beat wildly in his chest, a mantra of you failed, you failed, you failed, following each thump. In the wake of his fiery rage, he felt cold and lifeless, just like…like…

He fisted the grass and let the tears fall, screaming anguish to the Overworld.

Steve couldn’t even hope to get away from Adelaide before she grabbed his arm. She was breathing heavily and had several cuts in the process of healing on her face, but her attention wasn’t on him. He followed her gaze to see Herobrine standing and staring at them, another woman with white eyes beside him, hand on his shoulder. His optimism slowly shriveled away into confusion and then fear. Why wasn’t Herobrine attacking anymore? What was going on? What were they doing?

“W-What are you doing?” He dared to question, but received no answer. He struggled against the hand on his arm but it felt like a statue was holding him for all that Adelaide budged. His heart was racing and he was scared, but more so for Herobrine, who was staring at him with the most devastated look on his face.

And when he dropped to his knees and cried out in pure anguish, Steve’s breath hitched and he struggled anew, grunting in effort to get away from Adelaide and get to Herobrine.

“Stop!” He yelled desperately, unable to do more as tears sprung back to his own eyes—tears of helplessness, of fear, of anger. “Herobrine! Herobrine!”

“Stop yelling, he can’t hear you,” Adeladie murmured, gesturing silently to the woman standing beside Herobrine. She nodded and Steve cried out when the two disappeared. Just like that, Herobrine was gone.

“No! Bring him back!” His arm ached painfully from his efforts to free himself from Adelaide’s iron grip.

“I told him it didn’t have to be this way,” Adelaide was saying. Steve barely listened, his pulse beating so loud in his ears he could hardly focus on anything else. There was a hole being torn open in his heart.

When he stopped struggling to escape, that’s when Adelaide finally let him go, and he dropped to his knees, exhausted and numb. Adelaide tsked down at him.

“Now…what are we going to do about you?”

Chapter Text

He thought maybe someone was talking, but between the pounding beats of his heart and his own stilted breath, the words were jumbled and muffled. The cold rain fell heavily now, blanketing the Overworld in a torrent of water. His water-logged clothing hung uncomfortably to his frame, weighted and soggy, his armor offering little help in that regard. But such inconveniences were hardly a concern for him at the present.

Like a baleful mantra, the unfortunate truth of reality repeated cruelly in his mind.

Herobrine’s gone. An endless cycle through his heart and mind.

His arm hurt. The small wounds from where splinters had punctured Blake’s arm and the minor burn. Where Adelaide’s grip had prevented his escape, a ring of bruises ached. His eyes burned, exhaustion weighing like anvils on his lids. 

But everything—the pain, the cold, the uncomfortable wetness—it all paled in comparison to his heart.

He felt torn open and raw. The revelation of Alex’s betrayal still lashed, Herobrine’s absence now salt in the wound currently bleeding his heart dry. How much was one person supposed to endure before they simply couldn’t?

When he crawled—slowly, reluctantly—back to awareness, Adelaide was kneeling in front of him, fingers snapping in front of his face. Fisting the wet grass and taking a deep, controlled breath, he glared up at Adelaide. Everything else was muddled, but he saw Adelaide clear as crystal, his anger flaring hotly in his face and chest at just the sight of her.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Adelaide sighed, frowning down at him. She dismissed her axe while they stared at each other. “I told him that I just wanted to talk.”

Steve truly didn’t care about any of her excuses. And he knew what he was about to do was a terrible idea—terrible and dangerous—but his entire world was collapsing around him and one of the sources as to why his life was a living hell at all was standing just before him.

“Now, are you going to—“

He lunged at her, blindly reaching out to…do something. Gauge her eyes out maybe. Choking her sounded good too.

But though caught off guard, she was still much, much stronger than him. Before he could do any damage, she caught both his hands in hers, halting him. He immediately started struggling.

“Let…go!” He grunted, yanking against her grip, but it was futile. Like before, it was as if her hands were made of stone or iron—utterly unyielding.

“Stop, you’ll only hurt yourself,” Adelaide said, though she didn’t sound truly worried. He continued to struggle, feeling more bruises being pressed into his skin from pulling against her grip, but he didn’t let up. He just gnashed his teeth and continued struggling, eventually using his foot to kick at her legs.

“Ow! You—“ She sighed harshly and yanked on his wrists, causing him to lose his footing and stumble towards her. Then she increased the strength of her grip while bringing her hands down, forcing him to kneel lest his wrists give out on him. Already the sharp pain of them bending while enclosed in such a strong grip made light tears spring to his eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I have to. So stop. Struggling.” She commanded firmly.

“N-No! Bring…him…back!” He yelled, pulling against her grip. On his knees now, and with no purchase thanks to the slippery grass, his chances were looking bleaker than ever. Maybe if it hadn’t been raining and she hadn’t forced him to his knees he could have done…something. He wasn’t seeing any way out of this but he had to try. For Herobrine’s sake.

“This is just sad,” Adelaide commented after a few more moments of useless struggling on Steve’s part, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stave off the tears of frustration now threatening to spill over. His tugging gradually tapered off as his sudden burst of energy was spent, leaving him weak. When he slumped, going practically limp, she finally let him go.

“If you’ll let me explain, you’ll understand that I don’t want you dead. Killing you would be counterproductive at this point.”

“I don’t care about anything you have to say,” he said quietly, knowing she could hear him but uncaring if she couldn’t. “Why—“ His throat closed on the words, and it was hard to choke the rest out. A tear escaped and mixed with the rain as it trailed down his cheek. He felt hollow. “Why can’t you just leave us alone?”

There was silence, and then he heard her sigh. “Look, for what it’s worth, I am sorry. And if I could, I’d leave you alone. You’ve been more trouble than your worth.” She said it with a hint of mirth, as if Steve would ever have a semi-decent conversation with her again.

“Then do it!” He yelled, glaring at her as he staggered back to his feet. He didn’t try to attack her again, and simply balled his hands into tight fists. That didn’t stop them from shaking at his sides. “Find someone else to torment!”

Irritation spread across her features. “I said if I could I would. But I can’t.”

“Bullshit!”

She sneered. “Whatever. I don’t have to explain myself to you. Nor do I have to be nice about this.”

He was tense as they stared at each other. From the corner of his eye he could see movement, and tried not to glance over too obviously. He thought he saw Blake waving his arms and gesturing, but he had no idea what it could mean. Maybe Blake was going to surprise attack Adelaide. He honestly believed that was going to be the only way someone like Blake would be able to land a hit on someone like Adelaide at all.

When Blake finally made his move, as Adelaide reached out to grab him, she suddenly paused and her head tilted to the side. At that moment Steve realized that Adelaide had known about Blake all along, or at least for a good while. Fear spiked through him when Blake appeared and Adelaide was ready for him. She turned on the spot and buried her fist right into Blake’s gut.

It was like getting punch in the stomach by an iron golem. The pain radiated out from his abdomen and his lungs seized as the air was forced from them. He and Blake dropped to the ground at the same time, Blake cursing and groaning, Steve holding his hands over his stomach and panicking as he struggled to breath.

Eventually his lungs remembered how to work and allowed air back in. He took great heaving breaths, aching pain accompanying each inhale. It hurt to breath, but it was necessary.

When he glanced up, face pinched in pain, he saw Adelaide staring at him, her eyes narrowed. Then she looked at Blake, who was sitting up and glaring at her, blood smeared along his chin. Steve swallowed heavily and probably imagined the metallic taste in the back of his throat.

He wasn’t expecting the knowing smile from Adelaide.

“Well, botched your one job, didn’t you?” She said condescendingly to Blake. He spat a large glob of blood onto the soaking grass in front of her.

“Bite me,” he snarled. 

Adelaide laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you honey?”

Blake just growled.

Adelaide was nonplussed by the exchange. She very smugly had the upper hand. “What did I tell you, you’re like a beacon to me. You can’t hide.”

Breathing was coming easier, but there was still an encompassing ache across his entire midsection. He kept swallowing, staving off a vague nausea. Just the thought of moving made his body protest.

Adelaide made a thoughtful sound, looking between the two of them. “Though, as fascinating as your condition is, I’ll admit it puts a bit of a snag in my plan. Hmm.” She tapped her finger against her lips in thought. “What to do about it?”

Blake was still struggling to stand back up, holding his gut and cursing. He kept slipping on the grass, and Steve could see his body shaking. He swallowed, glad that Blake’s pain only transferred to him in a fraction of the full amount. Adelaide shook her head at the pathetic sight Blake made.

“Well, regardless, you’ll need to be taken care of first,” she said to Blake, then used her foot to push him flat on his ass. He looked like he wanted to argue but was never given the chance as Adelaide lifted her foot and brought it down hard on his face.

It hadn’t been long enough for the previous pain of Blake being hit in the face by Herobrine to fully fade. Steve gasped and covered his face with his hand, a headache springing up behind his eyes. This time, blood poured from his nose, and the entire middle part of his face flared with heat and pain. Blake was out cold again, sprawled out on the ground limp and vulnerable. Steve was merely human, trying to come out relatively unscathed in this battle against faux-Gods, and he’d like to believe he’d been doing a fair job, but seeing Blake unconscious in Adelaide’s presence and knowing the connection they shared scared him more than he cared to admit. He didn’t want to be forced to care about what happened to Blake. But he had to see Herobrine again. The memory of the way he’d sounded when he’d screamed, like all the sadness in the Overworld was piled on top of him…it sent a pang of sympathy right through Steve’s heart. Whatever had happened, he needed to see Herobrine and tell him everything would be okay.

He still wanted to believe that everything would be okay.

“Sorry about that,” Adelaide apologized. “Believe me, the less I hurt you the better. If things turn South for us, I’m first in line for a sword through the heart and I’d really rather not make my case any worse.”

Steve didn’t know what she was talking about and frankly didn’t care. His stomach was aching fiercely, painful every time he breathed, and his face hurt even more now than it had the first time Blake had been knocked unconscious. The rain helped to wash the blood from his face, but his nose still felt hot and swollen. And, to top it all off, he had a headache building up into something agonizingly unhelpful. He wanted to be left alone to wallow in self pity, not listen to her ramblings.

“Hm, this is certainly a challenge. I can’t teleport you but I wonder if…” She trailed off, then bent down to grab Blake and disappeared, taking Blake with her. Steve blinked in surprise, shocked she’d even leave him in the first place.

As soon as she was gone, Buddy appeared, standing under the roof of the shack to avoid the rain. Steve could have cried at the sight of the tall mob.

“Buddy!” He whisper-yelled, even though it was just the two of them. Well, he assumed at least. He hoped.

Buddy made a sound and looked anxious to get to him. It teleported over to him, only to cry out and immediately teleport back to safety.

“No, no, it’s okay, I—I’ll come to you,” he assured, receiving a distressed warble in reply. Standing took way more effort than it should have, and he had to remain hunched in on himself to try to alleviate the pain in his stomach, which protested each little movement. To add onto his trouble, his headache flared sharply, angry that he’d dare to move at all.

“We need to get out of here Buddy,” he said, hobbling over to Buddy. It held its hand out once he was close and he accepted the help graciously, holding its hand tightly. Maybe a little tighter than he should, maybe to stop it from shaking. He swallowed heavily, still feeling vaguely ill, and couldn’t shake the paranoia that someone was out there right now, watching him. Not to mention Adelaide was surely going to return any second now.

Buddy tilted its head and made an inquisitive sound.

“Just…anywhere,” he instructed, closing his eyes. Teleporting in his condition was probably not a good idea but what choice did he have? They’d never make it far enough away on foot to escape Adelaide’s senses. Even if she wasn’t as powerful as Herobrine, she was infinitely more powerful than a regular human. He had no chance. Plus, he remembered Herobrine telling him that endermen could, sometimes, be influenced, despite being under Jean’s general control. If Adelaide was determined enough, she might be able to turn Buddy against him, or even kill the enderman, and he couldn’t have that happen. Not when he already held so much guilt over it getting hurt when they’d escaped the Nether. He didn’t want Buddy’s kindness to be thrown back in its face, nor Buddy’s death weighing on his conscious.

When the teleport came, it was like taking an anvil directly to the head. The pounding was so intense he was half-convinced his head was about to explode, and his stomach savagely rejected the shift of locations. Swallowing down the urge to vomit only worked for so long—he fell to his hands and knees and was helpless but to expel the meager contents of his stomach. His aching midsection contracted painfully, his throat now burned, and his brain was actively trying to hammer its way out of his skull. Without the rain, the blood from his nose was free to drip down his lips and chin. His clothes were soaking wet and despite no longer being in the rain, wherever Buddy had taken them, he still felt miserable, like a raincloud was perpetually stuck hovering over his head.

Buddy’s hand patted somewhat awkwardly on his back. He exhaled in slight mirth, amused despite the shit situation he found himself in. At least Buddy was trying.

It was making soft cooing sounds as he wiped his mouth of sick and blood and slowly brought himself up on his knees. They were still in a forest but the sky was a cloudless blue. He wondered how far away from their previous location they were. He should ask Herobrine how far enderman could teleport.

The burning of his eyes returned with a vengeance and he sucked in a shaky breath, pressing his palms to his eyes.

“F-Fuck,” he cursed shakily. It was hitting him all at once, fully, without the edge of panic Adelaide’s presence brought. Herobrine was gone. Blake was gone. All of his supplies were back in the shack. It was just him and Buddy. Him and Buddy against at least two Withered and he couldn’t…what was he supposed to do.

He quickly dissolved into tears, unable to hold back the torrent of emotional pain. He cried and cried, heaving breaths and anguished wails, letting the bright sunny day know his pain.

Buddy’s arms encircled him and pulled him to its slight body. The cold, clammy feel of its hide wasn’t the least bit comforting, but Steve appreciated the gesture anyway. He clung to it, pressing his face against its chest and wrapping his arms around its thin torso.

It will be alright, Steve.

He hiccuped and looked up after a beat, wondering if he’d imagined the comforting, feminine voice. Buddy was looking directly at him, its eyes unnaturally brighter than normal.

He sniffled and blinked hard, wondering if he was losing it. “Je-Jean?”

I know things seem bleak, but I promise, I will help you however I can. Buddy’s arms tightened around him. He closed his eyes and sighed, and the two of them spent the next several minutes in silence while his breathing evened out. It still hitched periodically, and his eyes burned and felt weighted with exhaustion, but the tears had stopped.

I must go for now. Buddy’s body isn’t meant to hold my presence for long, but we will speak again soon, alright?

He nodded, not trusting his voice. Jean nodded back before the brightness of Buddy’s eyes dimmed and it blinked, then warbled sadly at him.

He imagined it was asking if he was okay. He wished he could say he was.

But he wasn’t. He was lost, and he didn’t know what to do to find himself.

The fear did not show in her expression, though it was a near thing. Ever since appearing to take Herobrine away, her instincts had been screaming at her to get away.

Before them, seemingly unperturbed by the aura that made Jasmine so unsure, Juneau paced, an easy giddiness in each step as he muttered plans and strategy to himself. She’d been watching him do so for the last half hour. Despite his near obsession with the very man Jasmin had brought to him, his reaction had been strangely detached. It was as if he viewed Herobrine not as a man but as some sort of trophy or weapon. His excitement now was not due to Herobrine himself but merely Herobrine being in Graven.

Whatever had Juneau so happy, Jasmine did not share in it. Her hand was tight, on Herobrine’s shoulder. Her fear was a hard thing to stamp down but she liked to believe she succeeded.

Herobrine had been silent, since she’d showed him that human’s death. It was the first thing she could sense from him that would do the most immediate and intense emotional damage. Their plan had been to get Herobrine to Graven, and damn the consequences of those actions. Surely Juneau had a plan to contain Herobrine once her powers were no longer required. Or should they fail.

However, the longer she remained in influence over him, the more she feared she may have miscalculated. Something about Herobrine was clearly different, and she was ashamed to say she might have panicked a bit when searching his mind for a viable scenario. But Juneau seemed to be utterly unaware of the aura of sheer rage barely contained by Herobrine’s outwardly docile appearance, of which was only happening at all thanks to her power. Jasmine could feel it though—it smothered her senses and, despite her own status as Withered, sent a shiver down her spine. Like standing next to a predator. Herobrine wasn’t like them, she’d already caught a glimpse of his power the very first time she’d tried influencing him. Just putting him to sleep was more difficult than it had a right to be.

She felt that power now more than ever. She was okay simply because Herobrine was choosing not to break free and attack her. She wasn’t much for combat. He’d easily take the upper hand from her. But he remained silent and still, trapped in a vision of peaceful nothingness that was already ripping at the seams. He would not remain in this neutral state for much longer.

Yet she did not tell Juneau this information. She trusted him, had followed his lead for decades, had no reason to doubt him. His behavior regarding Herobrine was troubling at times, but she still trusted him to get them through this new plan.

Sini’s death did weigh on her mind, however, and had finally made her begin to question his competence. Fear—both from what Juneau might do to her should she fail and what Herobrine was capable of—held her tongue. Her indifference wavered but ultimately held strong. She was known to be silent and calm, and strived to meet those expectations. It wouldn’t do to suddenly break down in tears, claiming to be afraid. Juneau would not have it, surely.

Naturally drawing out of her thoughts, she realized she’d been digging her nails into Herobrine’s shoulder and relaxed her grip marginally. She swallowed and looked away, hoping Juneau actually had a plan now that Herobrine was here. Especially regarding how he was going to keep Herobrine from killing them all in cold blood. She worried she’d be first on that list. At least, if Adelaide wasn’t around.

“What did you show him?”

It took her a second to realize she’d been spoken to and settled her gaze on Juneau, who was now leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

“His human companion dying by Adelaide’s hand. It was the most distressing scene I could show him on such short notice.”

Juneau made a sound of acknowledgment. “I see. No matter.” He pushed away from the desk and walked towards the stairs leading to the cellar. “Come.”

She urged Herobrine to move and he did, deceptively complacent. As shameful as it was, she hoped she was far away whenever he snapped.

The old set of wood stairs creaked ominously as they descended underground. The cellar was just that, a simple room with provisions and supplies. An iron door lead to the vast tunnel system beneath Graven, dug out more than a century ago. The dimly lit tunnels culminated to a large cavern directly beneath the center of the town, inside of which their Wither had settled. In the offshoot tunnels connected to this central location, cells had been carved from the walls and affixed with iron bars. She knew the cells to be nearly full currently.

Stepping through the iron door after descending the stairs, the atmosphere was completely changed by the encompassing and heavy presence of the Wither, which resided in the large cavern just up ahead.

Jasmine had been down here many times, as all the Withered had. Being in the Wither’s presence was soothing and relaxing. Sometimes the images she showed her victims stayed with her, and the Wither was there for her, whether to listen or give advice or even just offer its silent company. She loved to go down there and bask in its presence. Out of all of them, even Juneau, she’d probably spent the most amount of time down there. She wasn’t social in nature and preferred the cool underground and the Wither’s often indifferent or accepting presence.

Sometimes, however, the true malicious nature of the Wither as a creature of death and destruction showed through its often professional appearance. The caves had never felt less welcoming. Not because the Wither was angry, but because its happiness was a terrible, cruel thing. Only in her deepest, darkest depths would she ever admit that the Wither was a creature that should never be happy. She owed her current life to the Wither, and she was loyal to its wishes, but she wasn’t blind to its true nature. She understood perfectly that she and all the other Withered were mere playthings to such an ancient and powerful entity.

She did not let any of this show. Outwardly, she kept her face carefully blank and followed Juneau obediently. She kept a tight grip on Herobrine’s shoulder, locked in a mental stalemate with the man. She knew he could shake her influence if he truly desired to. But she also felt the pain of loss and the simmering rage inside him. He was too distracted to attack them, which was exactly what Juneau wanted from him. But that did not mean he would forever remain that way. Whatever Juneau had planned, he should do it quickly.

The torches lining the walls flared to life as they passed, and once they entered the cavern, the redstone lamps in the floor popped on with quiet clicks, illuminating a familiar scene.

The Wither had free range of course, but chose to wander about the underground tunnel system, spending a majority of its time in the cavern they’d just entered. Its oppressive aura was strongest here. Looking into its faces would be deceiving however, as it had no capability to display emotions beyond neutrality. Still, sometimes its anger was so palpable she swore she’d seen it frown and sneer before.

As soon as they entered, she realized what Juneau planned to do. Embedded into the stone in the center of the room was a large, deactivated nether portal frame. Along the wall that made up the domed room, runes were carved evenly spaced into the floor, designating several prisons of sorts, each strong enough to contain a Withered, should their beliefs start to veer from Juneau’s but their knowledge indispensable. She’d seen the containment before and the runes were quite formidable in keeping a Withered’s powers contained. The lines carving the runes out of the stone were dark, as the prison and its barrier were deactivated, save for one. She knew the runes and the barrier they produced only activated once a Withered stepped within its bounds.

As they passed the lone activated prison, she was surprised to see the creature that Blake had become laying unconscious. Had Adelaide succeeded in getting Steve to them as well, or was Blake’s presence here now a sign that something had gone wrong? Adelaide was very capable and did not like to fail the tasks put upon her. Jasmine hoped Blake’s presence wasn’t a bad sign. She would have to find and ask Adelaide what had happened.

They stopped at the edge ofthe prison besides the one housing Blake. Behind them, several feet away and near the center of the cavern, their Wither floated, deceptively calm but watchful as ever.

“Push him in,” Juneau stated, and Jasmine almost wanted to hesitate, but instead did as told, shoving Herobrine forward and over the lines of the runes.

Immediately the runes activated, an intense white barrier springing to life, caging Herobrine in. Jasmine couldn’t help but wait with bated breath, sure that Herobrine was going to try to attack them. Even imprisoned in the barrier, something in her gut told her that she and Juneau weren’t safe yet.

“Very good. Come now,” Juneau then stated, surprising her. She’d of thought he would gloat, maybe want to just talk, but he was already turning and walking away. She followed.

Just at the edge of the cavern, she paused and glanced over her shoulder.

Herobrine was on his knees, curled in on himself, shoulders shaking.

The sounds of anguished sorrow followed her out.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt this kind of pain before.

It was strange. He’d been hurt a lot in his life—stabbed, broken bones, tortured—but this…this was easily the worse.

Where his heart had once beat, now felt cold and lifeless. An emptiness was eating away at his insides, sharp along his nerves when he thought about—when he pictured—

It came in waves. Moments of realization sending pins and needles through his body, down to his bones, all-encompassing. In the lapses, when he sat there and felt sorry for himself, he’d remember those beautiful eyes he loved, so glassy with death, the red that spilled needlessly onto the Overworld, the way Steve had reached for him and he’d done nothing.

There was rage, like always, just underneath the hurt, waiting patiently for him to let it out. He always ended up letting it out. Sometimes he wished he could have better control over himself. He’d always been quick to anger, and quicker to choose violence. Steve…he might have gotten better, with Steve’s help. He felt he had been already. But now he’d never know for sure.

And sometimes he was glad to have something to fall back on. The familiar and easy comfort of giving into baser instincts. The Wither always encouraged him and supported him in that way. Rage was easier than sadness.

But was it right?

He curled his fingers into his palms.

Steve…wouldn’t want him to be angry. Steve wouldn’t want him to feel like it was his fault. He knew that to be true enough. Steve would want him to be happy.

The thought was laughable. Happy. He’d never be happy again.

It would be so easy, his rage whispered.

But it wouldn’t be what Steve would want, his sadness argued back, softly, gently, without the strength his rage drew from. 

Steve’s gone, his rage answered, and it cut through him.

Steve’s gone. Dead.

He imagined his rage like a snake, curled around his throat, whispering into his ear. That must be why it was so hard to breath.

And the people responsible are here.

So it’s vengeance that you seek, is it?

The pure visceral hate that flowed through him at that moment was so strong it was nearly suffocating. He lifted his head to glare pure death at the Wither floating before him. It wasn’t his own, he felt the distinction between them, and its voice, though similarly inhuman like his own Wither’s, was more dominantly feminine.

Justice and retribution.

It continued without waiting for him to respond, tilting its body as if to look down on him.

How quaint.

He bared his teeth at it but remained silent. The Wither of course noticed immediately.

Oh ho, nothing to say? That’s not like you, is it?

“You don’t know anything about me!” He finally snapped, lunging at the Wither only to be blocked by a barrier of white light. He punched it several times, yelling his pain and frustration, but the barrier did not yield. His hand was aching before he finally stopped.

The fight left him in a rush and he slumped down, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth as he rested his forehead against the barrier. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to do something about this pain in his heart, but the sadness swept over him and numbed his limbs, hammered cracks into his heart, broke down his resolve.

He just grit his teeth harder when he felt the tears fall.

So much sadness and anger. I can help you, you know. Make it all go away.

He almost didn’t want to give the Wither the satisfaction of him engaging, but the prospect of allowing another Wither to manipulate him was so outlandish he had to.

“You must think I’m an idiot. What, did you think me so distraught I’d simply fall for any half-baked scheme? You have three heads but I’m starting to think you only have one brain.”

The atmosphere in the room plummeted even more. Ah, the familiar rage of an otherworldly creature of mass destruction.

You will do well to remember who I am. I may not be the same as the one who gave you power, but that does not mean I do not have power over you.

The pain was much the same as he remembered, a searing just under his skin, or a knife raking along his nerves. Like the power bestowed upon him all those years ago was being forcefully yanked out of him. He curled in on himself on instinct—maybe to make himself seem smaller, maybe the Wither would take pity on such a pathetic sight—but there was no escaping the pain.

He thought of Steve’s face, thought of it smiling at him, thought of the way his eyes could light up when he spoke. He thought of Steve’s soft touches and easy acceptance. Steve’s laughter. Steve’s everything.

And then, through the pain, the realization that he would never see Steve again cut him right to his core. The pain of loss was stronger than any physical or mental pain anyone of these sickos could inflict on him. His body was enduring a pain far easier than his heart.

We shall see about that. The Wither’s seething words echoed in his mind as he closed his eyes and pressed his fists to his face, limbs shaking from pain, from sadness, from rage.

“St-Steve—“ He choked out, eyes burning with tears, throat clogged by thick emotion. “P…Please…”

But no one was there to hear his pleas.

Chapter Text

Blake sat with his back against the wall, one leg bent to rest his arm on his knee. There was a scowl on his face, and to an outside point of view, he appeared bored. But his appearance was more a mask to the growing worry festering inside, especially every time he glanced over at Herobrine.

When he’d woken up, surprised to see Herobrine and not also Steve somewhere around, he’d initially tried getting Herobrine’s attention, whispering in the beginning and then outright calling out to him. He’d decided ‘fuck it’ and gave up on being quiet. No one had come down to talk to him anyway, so might as well make the most of being alone.

Well, somewhat alone. That creepy-ass Wither was in the room, floating around seemingly aimlessly, but it didn’t do anything, if it even realized that Blake was awake. Maybe it didn’t care. Whatever. Blake didn’t care if that was the case. Fuck the Wither and all its crazy followers. He couldn’t believe he ever wanted this life.

With nothing else in the room to look at, his eyes were naturally drawn back to Herobrine. In the adjacent prison, Herobrine was unmoving, slumped on his knees like he’d given up. But his physical appearance was a far cry from the sheer aura of rage that permeated from his general direction. He knew that he currently had nothing to worry about, that Herobrine wouldn’t hurt him, even if strictly because it would in turn hurt Steve, but still…the feeling he got was enough to make him question that assumption. It was so visceral, almost like a physical thing pushing in around him, raising his hackles. His instincts were screaming to get away from danger, stemming from both Herobrine and a little from the Wither, as loathe as he was to admit that. But he was stuck in this infernal prison until the runes on the floor were deactivated.

When he looked back towards the room at large, he startled when he saw the Wither hovering right in front of his prison.

“Holy fuck!” He yelled, putting a hand on his chest. The Wither continued to stare at him impassively, enough for his surprise to morph into annoyance. He definitely didn’t want this thing’s attention on him.

“Have a painting made, it’ll last longer,” he commented snidely. The Wither’s menacing floating didn’t change, except for it to lean forward just a bit.

You’re a pathetic little thing, aren’t you?

“What’d you say!?” He exclaimed, standing up and slamming his fists against the magic barrier keeping him in. Good thing too, because he was angry enough to attack. Fuck that this thing was ancient and deadly and powerful, if it was going to insult him, he wouldn’t hesitate to start throwing hands.

So much drive, so much passion, but look where it’s lead you. The Wither’s heads tilted slightly. Blake took it as condescending.

“Yeah? So what. Like you’re one to talk. All powerful being of destruction, some might even call you a God, and you’re down here, hiding from the Overworld like a scared rabbit. Who’s the pathetic one now?”

Blake smirked smugly, crossing his arms as he stared up in challenge at the Wither. It’s faces were neutral, as always, and Blake didn’t feel the slightest hint of anger from it.

Perhaps that was why, when the pain came, sudden and intense, like a fire lit inside his veins, it caught him off guard. Encompassing and poisonous, something like magma coursed through his body on a mission to inflict as much harm as possible. He choked out a gasp and dropped to his hands and knees, lungs seizing. He imagined this was what getting struck by lightning felt like, and probably worse too.

It ended as soon as it began, no more than a few moments that stretched to feel like an hour. He was left panting raggedly in the aftermath, lungs working overtime to inhale as much precious oxygen as possible. Small tremors wracked his limbs and his heart was pounding, an ache in his chest.

I’ll admit, my presence here is less than desirable, though playing these humans’ games has been entertaining and not without its merits. Your defiance is admirable and amusing, but futile. If you were wise, you’d accept the inevitable.

“Good thing no one’s ever called me smart then,” Blake sneered, adjusting his position to sit with his back against the wall again. He felt winded and his muscles overworked, leaving him weak. His healing was slow to correct the Wither’s punishment. It didn’t help that he was probably also feeling echo’s of Steve’s pain from what’d just happened. The human would be less likely to recover as quick, if he even felt a great deal of pain at all. Maybe it was just Blake’s imagination that he thought some of the pain wasn’t quite his. He was probably just not used to healing immediately anymore, that was all.

The Wither said nothing to his retort, simply floated away. Blake sighed, looking over at Herobrine again. No change. He’d seen Jasmine appear after the fight with Adelaide and put Herobrine under her influence. He didn’t know the true extent of her abilities, but he knew what she could be capable of. Maybe Herobrine was still under her influence, and that was why he just sat there.

Great, Blake thought, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. Just great.

As he sat and ruminated over the events that lead him there, mainly getting read like a book by Adelaide and punched again, a peculiar feeling started building in the pit of his stomach. A mixture of anxiety and distress had his nerves going haywire.

Then, a sharp flare of pain to his abdomen. It wouldn’t have been from Adelaide, that had healed already, meaning—

The pain faded after a moment, thanks to his body’s natural healing. Still, he was on edge now. Whatever situation Steve had found himself in, it clearly wasn’t pleasant. But just the fact that he wasn’t here was perplexing enough. Had Steve somehow evaded Adelaide? Or were they fighting? He found it hard to believe that Steve could keep his own against someone like Adelaide.

He was hesitant to relax, not knowing if Steve was going to be hurt again, or where. For a moment he considered trying to get Herobrine’s attention again. Surely the man would react to knowing his human was actively being injured?

Fuck it.

“Hey—aah! Fuck!” He cut himself off with a howl as his body jerked in pain, centered on his foot. Any small movement sent a numbing wave of pins and needles up his leg. He might have even whited out for a moment before his body began healing. When he regained full consciousness seconds later, he still couldn’t move his leg but his foot didn’t hurt as badly. Still, he felt troubled by the pain, and frowned at his foot. Shit, was Steve’s foot broken? What the hell was the guy going through?

Feeling eyes boring into his head, he looked to his left, where Herobrine was staring at him. His face was blank.

“What’s happening to you?” Herobrine asked, voice without inflection. Blake swallowed again, thinking back on the rage he’d seen from this man not more than twenty or so minutes ago, surely, and the rage he still felt now, muted though it was.

“It’s…” He honestly didn’t know whether to reveal the obvious, as Herobrine didn’t seem to be in a good state of mind right now, but what other option did he have. “It’s not from me.”

The reaction Herobrine had to that information surprised Blake. It was confusion, then understanding and relief. “Steve’s alive?”

Blake made a face, staring at Herobrine like he’d lost his mind. “Uh, yeah?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized what Jasmine must have shown him. “Did you see him die?”

Herobrine nodded. Blake didn’t know if he was imagining things, but he swore the temperature in the room was increasing.

“It wasn’t real. One of the Withered, she has the ability to make you see whatever she wants. It was just a trick.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly once the pain from his foot faded completely. He rotated his ankle with a grimace. He might have tried to kill Steve, but damn did he feel kinda sorry for the man now.

A bead of sweat tracked down his face. Okay, it was definitely getting hotter. He looked over at Herobrine again, eyes widening.

The ground beneath where Herobrine was sitting was starting to burn, thin lines of magma boiling between the cracks in the stone. Herobrine’s face wasn’t blank anymore, instead Blake himself felt nervous looking at the sheer rage. This was more like what he expected of Herobrine, going off what he’d felt earlier.

Without warning, and most importantly, without Herobrine even moving, the ground around him splintered. The rune, no longer intact, shut off. The barrier dropped, and Herobrine stood up.

When he looked over, Blake was worried he’d attack, only to jolt when lava bubbled up from between cracks in the stone of his own prison. The rune broke, releasing him from the barrier. He stood, eyeing Herobrine warily, and made no sudden movements. Even knowing he was spared because of his and Steve’s connection, he still didn’t feel entirely safe, especially right now. It was quite clear to him that Herobrine was a lot more dangerous and powerful than he’d originally assumed.

Unfortunately, the Wither observing them gleaned that knowledge as well.

Well, what a pleasant surprise. Perhaps you are not as cowed as I had originally presumed.

Blake glanced between the Wither and Herobrine. He knew Withers were strong, but Herobrine…he might be able to take one on and actually win. Though, perhaps there was more to the ancient beings than he’d seen, as Herobrine didn’t attack it. Herobrine didn’t do anything but stand there, fists clenched so hard blood dripped from them. But he wasn’t shaking.

Voices echoed from down the hall, towards where the entrance beneath Juneau’s house was. Feminine and familiar voices. Blake stood against the wall and crossed his arms, out of the way of the impending shit show. Hey, whatever Herobrine needed to do to make himself feel better, who was he to get in the way of that?

The temperature in the room skyrocketed when Adelaide and Alex, of all people, walked into view. Blake shook his head. This was going to be a bloodbath.

In an instant almost too fast for even him to perceive, Herobrine was across the room and had Alex by the throat, holding her up and against the far wall. Beside them, Adelaide whirled around, eyes wide and frantic. The Wither, like himself, watched from the fringes, unwilling or perhaps uncaring to intervene.

Adelaide pulled out her axe, and her mouth opened, but Blake could see the uncertainty in her expression, the hesitance to her actions. She was probably trying to calculate a way out of the situation while also keeping Alex safe. Blake snorted at his own thought. Like hell Herobrine would let any of them live.

“How…how did you escape?” Adelaide asked, and Blake grimaced at the fear leaking from her tone. He had to give her credit, as she was usually so stoic and in control of her emotions and actions, but it was clear to everyone that she was truly afraid in this moment. Blake didn’t blame her.

Alex was still struggling, Herobrine’s hold clearing hard enough to prevent her from speaking but not hard enough to suffocate her. At least not yet. Slowly, Herobrine turned his head to look at Adelaide.

“Kneel.”

The aura in the room practically screamed obedience. Even on the other side and not being the center of Herobrine’s attention, Blake had to stop himself from obeying the clear order. Adelaide, however, wasn’t so lucky. Her legs practically gave out, though there was a clear struggle to her movements as she tried to stay standing. But however Herobrine was doing this, Adelaide wasn’t able to overcome it.

She gasped, dropping to her hands as well. Blake swallowed nervously as he watched, and made no move to help. He was going to let this play out.

Without addressing Adelaide again, Herobrine returned his attention back to Alex.

“Steve and I had our suspicions, about your loyalty. Do you know what I told him I would do to you, if you betrayed us?”

He didn’t give her the opportunity to respond. She only choked, unintelligible pleas escaping past her lips.

“You lied to us. Tricked us. Steve trusted you and you betrayed him. I will not take that lightly.”

Blake watched us Alex clawed at Herobrine’s arm, desperate in her attempts to be free. The scratches drew blood but Herobrine either didn’t feel it or just didn’t care. Blake would bet on the latter. Her face was reddening the longer she went without proper oxygen. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Blake might have felt bad, if she didn’t definitely have this coming.

“P-Please,” Adelaide managed to say, lowering herself more, groveling. Speaking seemed difficult for her. “Please, d-don’t—“

A loud crack echoed through the room. Alex’s arms dropped, and her struggles ceased immediately. Her body hung lifelessly in Herobrine’s grip before he dropped her unceremoniously. Her crumpled form upon the stone made Blake grimace. Nasty work.

Adelaide was staring at Alex’s dead body in anguished horror. Blake didn’t know they were such close friends, for Adelaide to look so devastated by what’d just happened. Perhaps she was thinking of Mirai as well.

Herobrine looked down at Adelaide.

“Where’s Steve?”

Adelaide didn’t respond, her empty white eyes still staring at Alex’s corpse. The heat, the presence exuding from Herobrine rose as did, Blake would guess, his frustrations. His tone was a little more heated when he repeated himself.

“Where. Is he?”

Blake knew Adelaide was not one to be frightened so easily, and despite her reaction earlier, the hate melding into her expression as she glared up at Herobrine wasn’t a surprise. Honestly he was more surprised Adelaide wasn’t just telling Herobrine what he wanted to know, considering the fact that Herobrine could, apparently, control them as if they were simple mobs. He wondered when that became possible.

An iron sword appeared in Herobrine’s hand, and a flash of power pulsed out from him. The sword started shining with the tell-tale sheen of enchantment.

He lowered the tip of the sword onto the back of Adelaide’s hand. Fire aspect started burning through the skin it found, nearly as fast as her body could heal it. She gasped sharply but didn’t react more than that.

The sound of skin searing over and over was disturbing. Blake wondered how long Herobrine would keep this torture up for. Or if he’d move on to something worse. Honestly he was expecting Jasmine, Marque, or even Juneau himself to come down and investigate. He wouldn’t rule out Herobrine’s influence stretching well beyond this underground cavern.

Herobrine finally lifted the sword away from Adelaide’s hand. The sizzling of cooking flesh vanished. The cavern was filled only with Adelaide’s strained breaths that eventually quieted as her hand healed and the pain faded.

“I’m done playing your games. Whatever plan you have, whatever you want with me, I don’t care. I’m done, do you understand?” Herobrine’s words left no room for rebuttal. Adelaide merely bowed her head. Blake saw her fists clench against the stone.

“Do not make me repeat myself again. Tell me where Steve is. Now.”

Blake shivered. He was glad he wasn’t the center of Herobrine’s ire right now.

Movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention. He looked over at the Wither, which was still just watching everything happen. It was showing no signs of intervening. Blake rolled his eyes as he looked back over at Herobrine. Of course the Wither wouldn’t care. He didn’t know this one very well, on account of Juneau refusing to let it grant him power too, but if it was anything like the one in the Nether, it was an asshole who couldn’t be trusted. This indifferent façade was masking its true vile nature.

“I don’t know,” Adelaide admitted through gritted teeth, like answering alone was painful. Blake could only imagine how pissed she was about Alex’s death, and how badly she wanted to attack. But even she must have realized that this time, she’d be fully outmatched. For Gods’ sake, Herobrine had just wordlessly enchanted a fucking sword, right before their eyes without a table! The guy was on another level. He wondered if Herobrine’s power came solely from the Wither or if the guy was inherently other and the Wither’s influence had brought that out of him. A terrifying thought, seeing first hand what Herobrine was capable of.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. Blake attacked me, I brought him here. When I got back, Steve was gone.”

Blake shook his head. Did she expect them to believe that? What, did he run? Like she couldn’t have caught him easily enough.

“Did you sense an enderman?”

Blake could have face-palmed. Of course. He’d forgotten about Buddy.

“I…Maybe. I’m not sure. My focus was elsewhere.”

Herobrine was silent for a long moment before all of their attention was drawn to the entrance of the cavern. Two forms teleported into view.

Jasmine and Marque took in the scene, both of their faces reflecting the dawning horror of him and Herobrine out of the prisons and Alex’s dead body. Jasmine put her hands over her mouth while Marque pulled a potion from his pack and threw it at Herobrine.

Shit, maybe he should have told Steve and Herobrine everyone’s abilities. Marque’s potions were dangerous, he could brew them to have basically any effect he wanted. On top of that, his physique lent itself to his strength. He was always the biggest and brawniest when he walked into a room, despite his quiet nature and demeanor. If Adelaide’s tactics and Jasmine’s illusions failed, Marque’s potions or raw strength were sure to work.

However, he didn’t think even Marque’s abilities could hold a candle up to Herobrine’s. The man turned to face the newcomers. The bottle caught fire and exploded before it could reach him, all with nothing more than a deepening frown. Marque frowned as well, wary, but smartly didn’t try to attack again.

They were locked in a sudden stalemate, until footsteps echoed from the hallway. And then Juneau came into view, stepping between Jasmine and Marque. He observed the room with a grimace, but didn’t look too put out over what he saw. Bastard.

“I think it’s finally time for us to talk,” Juneau announced. Blake lifted a brow in wonder over Juneau completely ignoring the obvious body in the room, and snorted when he saw Adelaide’s incredulous expression directed at Juneau, who ignored her. Oddly enough, he felt like speaking up. Herobrine clearly wasn’t in the mood for talk.

“Uh dude, read the room. Not really a great time for talk.”

Herobrine didn’t react to his statement, and Juneau merely glanced at him before his attention returned solely to Herobrine.

“Perhaps. You might change your mind once you hear what I have to say.”

Still, Herobrine didn’t react, giving Juneau the impression he was willing to listen. Blake sighed.

Well, this ought to be good.

Feeling desperate and hopeless was not new to Steve, but he didn’t think it’d ever felt like this before.

Maybe when he’d lost everything in the fire, when villages had turned their backs on him, when he realized he was going to be alone—maybe then had been the closest to how he was feeling now.

The Overworld was closing in around him. The rapid beating of his heart blocked out all sound. His emotions felt like physical weights picking apart his heart, steadily tearing open a hole. And he had no idea what to do to fix it.

He had moved, with Buddy’s help, to the shade of a nearby tree. As he settled against it, wincing and hissing, he hoped all the pain would fade, but it seemed more and more unlikely. Everything hurt. His body felt like it’d been a polar bear’s chew toy. His nose was hot and inflamed, and though the blood had stopped running it left an itchy trail across his lips and down his chin. His midsection still ached if he took too deep of a breath, and a cursory inspection of the area revealed a pale bruise. He could only imagine how hard Adelaide had punched Blake. His wrists hurt from when Adelaide could have broken them. His throat burned from the bile that’d come during the aftermath of Buddy’s teleport.

But even with all that physical pain, it was the internal anguish that had his hands shaking, his breath hitching, tears stinging at his eyes, emotions in turmoil. He could feel exhaustion weighing on his eyelids, pushing down on his shoulders. Hopelessness threatened to make him break down, whispered for him to give up, or simply accept whatever was intended to happen. He didn’t want to move or think about Blake in the enemy’s hands and what that meant for him, the pain Blake might accidentally share with him. He didn’t want to think about those people after him or about the Wither or even Buddy and Jean.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the tree behind him, thinking instead of Herobrine. Barely any time had passed and he already missed him. More than he thought himself capable of. Having Herobrine in his life was a double-edged sword, he was coming to realize. He wanted it, there were no doubts there, but the grief he felt from Herobrine’s forced absence was soul crushing. It left desperation rushing through his blood like a sickness, clouding his judgement. Everything in him was telling him to go and fight, to find Herobrine and ignore everything else. It was his heart championing that plan. But his brain was yelling to think rationally, to find the safest way, to live long enough to even see Herobrine again, and to live afterwards so they could enjoy their lives together. Something fate seemed against them on.

It was hard to ignore his heart, but he knew deep down what the right course of action was. Didn’t mean he had to like it.

But first he had to get better, enough not to hurt when he stood up. He hated feeling this kind of helpless. Herobrine was in trouble and he was busy feeling sorry for himself. But Herobrine wasn’t going to save him.

A swift determination swept through him.

It was his turn to save Herobrine.

But how to go about doing that?

Buddy’s soft warble and its hand petting at his arm made him blink open tired eyes. The enderman was sitting in front of him, long legs folded beneath it, a curious, maybe worried tilt to its head as it stared at him. He offered it a small smile.

“I’m okay Buddy,” he said automatically. He held out his hand and the enderman took it as if desperate for comfort. He briefly wondered why Buddy cared so much but let that thought go almost as soon as he’d thought it. He should be grateful to have Buddy with him. He owed Buddy more than he’d ever be able to repay.

He sighed, staring at his and Buddy’s hands clasped together. “I don’t know what to do Buddy,” he admitted quietly. “How can I hope to beat them?”

Buddy’s soft noises sounded comforting, and Steve let the sensation of being comforted wash over him. He appreciated Buddy’s company now more than ever, since Herobrine was gone.

After a few quiet minutes, Buddy stood up, still holding his hand. He looked up at it tiredly, brows furrowing in curiosity. When Buddy gently tugged on his hand, as if to make him stand up, he questioned it.

“What? What is it?”

Buddy of course didn’t respond in a way he could understand, but it let go of his hand and gestured, trying to communicate its intentions. Steve stared at it, wondering when it would give up, but when it held its arms out and flapped them, Steve suddenly realized what it meant.

“Are you…trying to tell me about Jean?”

Buddy nodded enthusiastically, then held its hand out again. He eyed it wearily, not sure if he should take it because he knew Buddy was going to teleport him somewhere, but he could admit that talking to Jean right now sounded like a good next step, and it wasn’t like he was going to be able to do anything else while injured like he was.

Hesitantly, he reached out and accepted Buddy’s hand.

Between that second and the next, all his pain seemed to amplify as Buddy teleported them somewhere dark. His head was pulsing angrily, like his brain was about to explode. Waves of aching pain radiated throughout his body from his stomach. He swallowed heavily, not wanting to throw up again and agitate his injuries even more. He already felt awful enough. The center of his face felt even more hot and swollen, but luckily the blood did not start up again.

He gave himself a few moments to collect himself into some semblance of put together before he straightened up as much as he could and swallowed down the nausea and pain. He looked up at Buddy.

“W-Where are we?” He asked, glancing around. Definitely a cave, pitch dark and cold. He shivered on instinct, wondering what mobs were around watching him. Would Buddy be able to keep them at bay?

Buddy made a higher pitched sound than normal and start walking, taking shorter steps so he could keep up. Walking was a chore but he pushed through it. It was necessary, he kept telling himself. He could relax and recover when he had Herobrine back.

The cave seemed fairly standard, save for the strange and noticeable absence of mobs. He was wary to believe it was truly just him and Buddy, but after several minutes of walking on a steady decline, he was starting to believe such was the case. The cave wasn’t even brightly lit, instead a few torches burning with a curious teal tint periodically lined the walls. The blue flame burned brightly but the light it emitted was dull, as if it wasn’t even there. So surely such a lack of appropriate lighting would cause mobs to flock all throughout this winding tunnel, but it was deathly silent as they walked, only their footsteps echoing around them for company.

The longer he walked, the more winded and exhausted he became. Holding a hand against his stomach helped a little, though not with the nausea. He was swallowing almost compulsively now, staving off that urge to vomit again. His face throbbed with every beat of his heart, matching the pounding in his head. Both wrists sported darkening bruises and sent a spike of sharp pain up his arms if he bent them too far. Every step felt like his last as his body threatened to collapse under the weight of its injuries. Not life threatening, sure, but Steve was so tired. So, so tired of everything. His abysmal emotional state didn’t help his body feel up to any prolonged walking, and his senses were dialed up to eleven as he tried to hear or see anything through the darkness ahead of them. But there was nothing there.

At least, until they rounded a bend and came upon an abrupt dead end, the only thing of interesting being—

With wide eyes, Steve took a step back and shook his head.

A Nether portal.

“No, Buddy, no, I—I can’t,” he stammered, desperately needing the enderman to understand. He could not go back. Fear invaded his senses, made his hands shake worse and his instincts scream to turn tail and flee.

Buddy made a sad sound and walked up to the portal, gesturing before pointing at it. Steve swallowed down the lump in his throat. Vomiting again was a very real possibility as the thought of going back in there had his stomach churning.

Buddy’s next cries were more urgent as it pointed at the portal deliberately. Steve’s eyes slid from the enderman to the deactivated portal, feeling like he’d just been dunked in a vat of ice water. Please, whatever Gods were listening, don’t make him have to go back.

Frustration and helplessness came crawling back. He’d thought, with a plan, that he could ignore those feelings and focus on finding Herobrine. Letting Buddy take him to Jean seemed like the perfect first step. Jean was powerful, and smart, and on his side. She could help him somehow, he knew it. But now he felt like he had in that forest, soaked and hurt and agonizing over his life falling apart. Everything going right only to end up so wrong.

Buddy tried explaining, but it was pointless. Despite his extreme and well-founded reluctance, he knew he was going to accept. There was no other way, surely Buddy knew what horror could be waiting him in the Nether? The Wither wasn’t exactly his biggest fan, as far as he understood.

“Are you sure there’s no other way?” Steve asked, hoping against hope that Buddy might have just forgotten that the Nether was a no-go and knew another route. But it shook its head. At least it looked sorry for putting him through this.

He gazed at the portal with nothing less than distress as he rationalized his choice. He didn’t know for sure that anything was going to happen. Herobrine’s fortress had been close to the portal at his house, and they were nowhere near there anymore. Plus, how could the Wither know when he entered the Nether again? He supposed a wither skeleton could give him away, but that was an easy fix—stay away from fortresses. Yeah, when he thought about it, traveling through the Nether didn’t seem so bad. For all he knew, their time in that hellish dimension was going to be short. It wasn’t like they were going to stay there for days or even probably an hour. He just had to think of it as a means to an end.

He felt a little better, convincing himself nothing would happen. He nodded at Buddy.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Into Buddy’s hand it teleported a flint and steel. Steve reluctantly took them when offered, hobbling over to the portal and striking against the base of the frame to activate it. The eerily beautiful purple swirls masked the true hell it lead to.

Unnerved, he stepped back, swallowing heavily and feeling increasingly nervous. Every part of him agreed this was a terrible idea, but he knew he had to. He was injured, he only had Buddy right now, he was going up against forces far more powerful than he was capable of facing. But, at the same time, determination to be the one to save Herobrine, to have a plan, pushed back against the fear and uncertainty.

However, before he entered the portal, he looked up at buddy. “Do we have to teleport?”

It looked down at him and moved its head side to side, warbling something as it moved its arm in an arc. Having no clue what Buddy was saying, Steve simply accepted Buddy’s head bobbing as a yes. His stomach twisted just thinking about teleporting through the already harsh conditions of the Nether.

“I don’t…” He trailed off, staring into the mesmerizing purple portal. “I don’t think my body will be able to handle if we teleport a lot. Even coming here almost made me pass out, you know?”

Buddy just stared at him, before its eyes dropped and it brought a finger up to tap against its chin, thinking. Probably of how they were going to get to their destination while keeping Steve conscious.

Steve sighed and patted the enderman’s arm, smiling up at it. He’d spare the poor enderman the trouble of shouldering all the responsibility. Honestly he was thoroughly impressed with the level of forethought the enderman had had so far, what with suggesting Jean and leading him through the Nether to get to her.

“If we have to teleport and I pass out, just make it to Jean as quickly as possible, alright?” He glanced at the portal, shuddering. “I get the feeling our visit there, no matter how brief, won’t go so well.”

Buddy patted his shoulder with a nod, and finally Steve felt somewhat ready to go through the portal. He approached it and, with a deep breath, stepped onto the base.

He had to close his eyes, as his swirling vision threatened both his headache and his stomach, but all in all the transition between dimensions wasn’t too bad. A silver lining, he supposed.

Though, in his condition, going from the cool atmosphere of the cave to the scorching grounds of the Nether wasn’t ideal. Immediately, the dry air caught in his throat and initiated a coughing spell, sending him to his knees. His eyes were watering and his throat burned again, feeling raw. Buddy appeared next to him, quiet, soothing noises emanating from it as it rubbed his back and fretted over him.

“I’m okay,” he rasped, standing with Buddy’s help. “I’m—“

He stopped.

Buddy’s questioning sounds, its hands tugging at him to go, the crackling of the nearby fires, the heat—it all faded away as a creeping, dark presence slithered into his mind and grabbed his attention.

Across the Nether, the Wither turned his direction.

There you are, little thorn.

As he stood there paralyzed by fear and shock, his mind raced. How was this possible? How could the Wither know he was here? How could he hear it? If he closed his eyes, he swore he could see the Wither’s six intense white eyes staring directly at him.

“B-Buddy,” he choked out, grabbing the enderman’s arm tightly like a lifeline. It’s noises had turned alarmed at some point as it tried to get an answer out of him. “We need to go. Now!”

You can’t run from me.

Steve ignored the voice in the back of his mind as he started following Buddy. Adrenaline pumped through his system, masking his pain enough that he could jog lightly without too much trouble. The sense of urgency pulsing through his veins was so strong he felt sick from it. They needed to get out of there now.

He didn’t know where they were going, and let Buddy lead him. Despite the adrenaline, his body protested each step. A sharp knife stabbed at his lungs with every breath, and his midsection still ached deeply, worse by the minute. His headache felt like a permanent hammer striking the inside of his skull.

Ahead of them, a wither skeleton appeared from around a mound of netherrack. Steve stopped abruptly, yanking Buddy back to him in the process.

The wither skeleton’s eyes were glowing more fiercely than normal.

Where do you think you’re going? The Wither’s voice called out from the skeleton. It stood there, tall and menacing, stone sword tip digging into the netherrack. Wither skeletons had always been more sinister than regular skeletons, but this one was emanating pure power and anger. Steve swallowed nervously, looking around for any alternate routes. Without knowing exactly where they were going, however, their options looked bleak. Buddy would have to teleport them, but being unconscious in this situation didn’t sit right with him at all.

Without another word, the wither skeleton charged at them, holding its hand with the sword up, ready to strike. Steve braced himself, waiting for Buddy to teleport them away, but as the wither skeleton got closer and closer without anything happening, Steve started to panic. Buddy’s hand was wrapped around his forearm, and yanking at it didn’t yield any results.

“Buddy!” Steve called out, heart and breath quickening in fear as the wither skeleton was practically on top of them.

At the last possible moment, Buddy reached out and grabbed the wither skeleton’s wrist and turned sharply, using its momentum against it to throw it to the ground. It tumbled gracelessly to the netherrack, bones rattling harshly. It was clearly unused to such treatment, as it struggled to right itself. Steve stared at it with wide eyes, unable to believe what he’d just seen.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by Buddy pulling him forward, continuing to move onward. Steve struggled to keep up but did his best. The conditions in the Nether were not playing nicely with his already bruised and battered body. Everything hurt, like one giant wound. His head and stomach stood out most, two bright pinpricks of pain. But he just had to grit his teeth and keep going.

A consolation to their journey was the lack of teleporting. Their path was fairly linear, requiring no deviation from solid ground. Even when they came upon gaps in the netherrack, a natural bridge always allowed them to cross. Steve was incredibly grateful to whoever had made or discovered this connection between the two nether portals.

For a moment he allowed himself—foolishly—to believe they’d done it. That the Wither had had just the one wither skeleton so far from a fortress, that they were safe now that they’d gotten past it. There was a long stretch were they didn’t even see another mob, but instead of that alerting Steve something might be causing the absence, he took it as a stroke of good fortune. The last thing they needed was a swarm of piglins or a ghast shooting fireballs at them. Teleporting would be an inevitability in that case.

It was when another nether portal came into view that disaster struck. A pain so intense, like lightning, seared through him. It sent him to his hands and knees, ears ringing, body paralyzed. His lungs forgot how to work and his mind blanked, nothing save that pain filling his thoughts. There was yelling, somewhere, distant to his ears. His throat burned.

Then it was over, like it’d never happened. He knelt there panting, head aching more than ever, lungs heaving, body trembling. Buddy was knelt beside him, concern showing on its limited features, hands hovering as if afraid to touch him. Steve took several deep breaths, calming himself down. He didn’t…think it was the Wither. He grimaced as he realized it must have come from Blake. Exactly what he worried about.

The sound of an arrow being loosed caught his attention and he looked over, just in time to see the arrow sail past him. It was as if time slowed when he saw Buddy look at the arrow and, on instinct, teleport out of harm’s way, appearing several feet besides him.

That’s when the piglins came charging from all directions, a group of four surrounding him. Buddy screeched at them but backed up, taking a defensive stance. Two of the piglins had crossbows, one had a sword, and the biggest piglin was holding an axe. The two with the crossbows didn’t shoot, just pointed their weapons at him, while the sword bearing pigling stood between him and Buddy.

His heart was beating hard in his chest as he struggled to his feet and raised his hands, showing no harm. Fuck. Fuck, this was bad. With those crossbows, Buddy’s instincts wouldn’t let it act, not if getting shot was the other option. Endermen were known to be experts at evading arrows thanks to their teleportation abilities, but Buddy wouldn’t also be able to protect him. Steve needed to create an opening so Buddy could grab him and leave. The portal was so close, they could see it for Gods’ sakes. A quick sprint behind Buddy would get them there in a few seconds.

Did you think it would be easy?

The voice came from behind him. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. It felt like the Wither was an inch away from him.

The fact that it was a wither skeleton that circled in front of him and not the Wither itself didn’t make him feel much better. In some ways, a wither skeleton could harm him better than the Wither itself. A crude, jagged stone sword was barbaric and cruel to use as a weapon, and wither skeletons could inflict wither. Just the fact it had arms and legs made it more capable, not to mention the Wither could override its willpower and puppet the mob to do its bidding. So he didn’t really feel better knowing it was a wither skeleton here instead of the Wither itself. He was far from safe.

I don’t plan on making it easy. You’ve disturbed my plans, taken something of mine, set me back. Such deeds will not go unpunished.

The depth of the anger that swept over him wasn’t much of a surprise to him. He glared at the skeleton, seeing the Wither in its lifeless eyes.

“Herobrine’s not yours. He’s free of you,” he practically snarled, clenching his fists. His arms shook, with adrenaline and exhaustion and anger. The wither skeleton’s head tilted to the side slightly.

Say what you like. Nothing will change what I have planned for you.

On some unseen command, the large piglin holding the axe approached him. Steve wanted to fight back, to show that he wouldn’t go down so easily, but his body was on its last leg. One wrong move and he’d expend the last vestiges of energy keeping him upright. Adrenaline, even as much as was currently pumping through his system, could only take him so far. His rapid pulse, aching body, and pounding head were hindrances in an already unfair five against two, especially after whatever pain had just struck him from Blake. He still felt winded and shaken from that. He just needed to create that opening for Buddy…

The axe piglin waved its weapon around and oinked roughly at him. Unable to understand, Steve just stood there, waiting for some clearer instructions. The Wither was the only one who could talk to him in a way he understood, unfortunately, but the wither skeleton was standing and watching passively as the axe piglin’s noises became more and more aggressive.

Finally, it gave up trying to communicate and instead jabbed the top of its axe hard into his gut.

He doubled over, holding his stomach, but kept himself upright. His headache was splitting now, and the nausea that’d never left threatened to send him to his knees again. His midsection felt even more tender and raw. He didn’t want to know what it looked like.

Buddy cried out, sounding angered or distressed. Steve looked up at the enderman with an appreciative and strained smile.

“It’s…okay Buddy…everything…will be okay,” he panted out between breaths. His poor abused stomach and lungs burned as if the muscles had been overworked. A sharp jab of pain graciously accompanied every breath he took.

Sweat trailed down his face. He could feel it under his clothes as well. It was too hot. His body was injured and exhausted. The window of opportunity to escape was rapidly diminishing in correlation with his energy reserves, which already felt completely depleted. Frustration and hopelessness swirled over his thoughts, making him lose focus. He was one man, one human, against five. And with the Wither inhabiting its skeleton’s bones, he doubted even Buddy could do much.

The piglin was still oinking at him, sounding pissed off now. It waved the axe around haphazardly. Steve eyed it, not putting it past the piglin to ‘accidentally’ slice him. The piglin turned to the skeleton, its complaints noticeable even through the language barrier.

The skeleton’s head tipped up and the piglin snorted, then approached him. He swallowed heavily and flinched when it reached for him, and his breath stuttered when its axe pressed against his throat. Buddy cried out again, angered on his behalf. He couldn’t muster another shaky smile for it.

Enderman, the Wither said, getting both their attention. Buddy growled. If you want your human to live, come here.

Blackmail, really? Steve couldn’t help but think. Underhanded but, he supposed it made sense. The Wither was definitely the manipulative type.

Reluctantly, Buddy scooted closer, kept from darting directly to Steve by the sword piglin keeping itself between them. After a few seconds of indignant shuffling, Buddy was standing within arm’s reach of the wither skeleton.

A boney hand was slowly lifted and pressed to Buddy’s chest. The poor mob was incredibly tense as it waited for whatever the Wither was going to do.

I’m not sure what the outcome of this will be, but I’m willing to take the risk to find out.

Buddy’s confused warble transformed into a pained screech as a pulse of darkness from the skeletal hand blasted directly into the enderman’s chest. It clawed at its head and chest in equal, eventually falling to its knees and beginning to thrash. The display of cruel torture nearly made Steve sick again. He felt tears well in his eyes, disturbed by the Wither’s actions.

“Stop!” He lurched forward, desperate to help Buddy. The wither skeleton’s arm was still up, and Steve didn’t hesitate to grab it and yank it away, hoping it did something, hoping he could help Buddy. It’s cries tore at his heart strings.

The instant he touched the wither skeleton’s arm, he recoiled with a gasp. Turning his palms up, he watched in horror as they turned black, infected with wither. Shit!

Weakness immediately crept into his limbs. The discoloration stained his skin up to the forearms. It felt like a sack of bricks had been tied to his arms, weighing them down.

Not a wise decision, the Wither commented above Buddy’s struggles. You’ll have to wait your turn.

He dropped to his knees, hands cradled in his lap. They were numb now, from his elbow down. His vision was beginning to blur. Too much stress, too much pain. He wasn’t going to be able to stay conscious for much longer.

And when he did finally sleep next, he knew he’d be hearing Buddy’s tortured screams. His heart ached for the enderman.

Then, quiet. Crackling fire and the shuffling of the pigmen. Steve looked up from his hands and found Buddy—

His eyes widened.

Whatever he was looking at, he was hard pressed to call it an enderman. The tall mobs were naturally lithe, but this one was literally skin around bones. The parts of Buddy that had been filled out with flesh and organs were gone, leaving it a horrific mix between an enderman and a skeleton. And when it looked at him, its eyes were no longer purple. No, they shown with that damned white.

Steve felt the loss like a sucker punch to the gut. Buddy was…

The tears came, but so did the anger. Because of him, again, someone had gotten hurt. And Buddy didn’t deserve such punishment like this. He felt his hatred for the Wither pooling in his heart. It couldn’t just take whatever it wanted with no consequences. He wished he could teach it that lesson.

Movement registered beside him. The axe pigling was approaching him again. The other three piglin moved to stand behind the wither skeleton and Bu—enderman. That thing wasn’t Buddy anymore. The two with crossbows kept them trained on him. He grit his teeth at their presence.

He was horribly outnumbered, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Once the piglin got close enough, Steve reached forward and yanked the axe right out of its grip. Clearly not expecting Steve to do much of anything, the piglin made a sound of anger and offense. Steve held the axe in a shaky hand, hardly able to feel the texture of the handle in his grip, thanks to the wither effect. But he held strong, and was able to stagger his way to a stand. Swiping the axe kept the piglin at bay. He didn’t like how casually the wither skeleton watched him. Beside it, the enderman looked increasingly hostile.

Steve started backing up, towards the portal. He knew his chances were practically zero. With an enderman under its control, he would not be able to escape the Wither. But he didn’t need to escape per say, just distract it long enough to get through the portal. A few seconds was all he needed. Whatever was on the other side had to be better than this.

He kept swiping to hold off the piglin, but its advances were troubling. It could clearly see that Steve was running on fumes right now, and wasn’t particularly worried about receiving a light slash for its efforts to retrieve its weapon. Steve glanced behind him, grimacing at the realization that he was too far away. He couldn’t keep walking backwards and keep the piglin away.

Enough.

The axe disappeared from his hand, the telling purple sparks the indicator of how. His already weak hand dropped and he booked it to the portal.

Incapacitate him.

The piglin oinked roughly and held his hand out so the enderman could teleport its axe to it. Then it charged.

Steve felt every hair on his body stand on end when he sensed the piglin—too close, too close—right behind him. He was desperate to get away. His one chance to talk to Jean, to plan, to save Herobrine, was slipping through his fingers like sand. It made shame burn hotly in his face and heart, and brought more tears to his eyes. They dried before they could fall.

The piglin shoved him hard, easily knocking him off balance. He fell face first and could barely bring his hands up in time to stop the impact from being worse. And even so, with how worthless his hands might as well have been, all he succeeded in doing was making sure he hit his face on his hands instead of the netherrack.

His nose gushed blood, injured enough to break the delicate state of healing it’d been in. His head throbbed, angry and everywhere. Like his entire brain was about to explode from his cranium.

Still, he tried to crawl, tried to get away, but the piglin had a plan for that too.

Steve looked back just as the piglin lifted its hoofed foot and slammed it down hard on his ankle.

The cry that tore out of his throat was lost to him as his mind was consumed by agonizing pain. It became blinding when it happened again and again, the piglin ruthlessly stamping down on his ankle. He was crying in earnest now, ignorant to everything except the awful pain radiating up his leg. Any twitch to his foot sent lightning shooting up his spine, igniting his nerves.

His vision wavered, darkening around the edges. Awareness bled away. Hands grabbed at him, lifted him.

The last thing he saw was the purple shock of the portal against the red, red netherrack before he passed out.

Chapter Text

Herobrine was no stranger to rage.

Like a second skin, he’d lived with rage most of his life. He’d always been quick to anger and quicker to attack. Forget about asking questions later—there would be no later, because Herobrine would be victorious and everyone else would be dead.

For a long time, he was happy to let it control him. To succumb to its tempting whispers, to bask in its strength, to allow the buzzing of a thousand angry wasps to drown out all rational thought. Rage made him strong, made him something to be afraid of. The terrified faces of all the travelers he’d ever killed in the Nether could flash before his mind’s eye at any given time and there’d be a sense of pride, of righteous victory. He was right, to act this way. To never question the nature of his being nor the ‘teaching’ of the Wither. It had been his God and it knew what he needed. It knew when to punish him, when to praise him, when to scold him, when to advise him. It’s mere presence could equally soothe or stoke those burning fires inside him. He had no reason to question it.

And then he met Steve.

Everything was different now. Flying into a blind rage was not enough anymore, not if he wanted to protect someone he actually found himself caring about. Someone who, he could admit to himself, he didn’t want to scare away.

Steve didn’t deserve his rage. Steve deserved a better version of him.

But the rage, he knew, would always be there. He just had to find a way to work with it, instead of against it.

Then Blake had cried out and Steve was alive and hurt and Herobrine—

He’d almost let it happen again. He was so. Angry. The rage was a monstrous thing, slamming against its cage, clawing at his thoughts, his feelings, his being. Trying to wear him down, force him under. It wanted out. And Herobrine was tempted to give in, like he’d been conditioned to do.

Steve’s smiling, happy face flashed through his mind, and resolve to do better stomped the rage into submission. It would not control him. Not this time.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use it.

It was easy to escape from his prison, easier to free Blake.

Satisfying to impose his will over Adelaide’s, even more so to finally have his hand wrapped around Alex’s throat. The audacity, to have lied to their faces, trick them into depending on her, offer them friendship and help only to turn around and spit in their faces. No, in Steve’s face, because Steve had trusted her when Herobrine had not and she’d hurt him. Whether she meant to or not did not matter to him. His anger was too strong to listen to reason, so he didn’t give her the option. He snapped her neck and dropped her lifeless body, happy to be rid of her.

The only surprising development was controlling Adelaide, but it felt natural. Tensions were high, he could feel her anguish and answering rage, lashing out after Alex’s death. Their influences clashed and he could sense the mob within her, the part of her that was controllable. And it was easy to reach out and twist, bend her to his will.

Blake was safely on the other side of the room, and the foreign Wither seemed indifferent to the events unfolding. Herobrine could feel its neutrality and decided to focus his attention elsewhere, at least for now. He would kill it, eventually. In due time.

The newcomer demanded attention first. Herobrine could tell this was the one in charge. He looked older, and though Herobrine didn’t sense malice from him, the superior aura he exuded rubbed him the wrong way.

He remained silent, when the man spoke. Adelaide was still knelt behind him, her anger simmering, waiting to strike. The other two Withered were unfamiliar to him, but he remembered what Blake had said. A woman who was able to make him see things that were not real. Like Steve dying. Like his entire world being violently ripped out from under him. And the two men were new additions he hadn’t fought yet, though with one having tried to throw a potion at him, he had to be weary of that.

So he didn’t attack yet, despite the muted rage yelling in his ear to lunge, tear the woman’s throat out with his teeth, claw her insides from her stomach. Make her suffer as he had. He waited. There were still three other Withered, including Adelaide. His control over her would not hold, he knew that well enough. She would eventually overpower his commands as his attention on her waned, especially if a fight broke out.

Every part of him wanted to flee, if only to find Steve. If he thought about Blake’s reaction earlier to whatever had happened to Steve, desperation clawed at his throat, lit his nerves with a purpose. Steve was in trouble. He needed to wrap this up quickly.

The man in the middle smiled like they were friends. Herobrine wanted nothing to do with him.

“Introductions are long overdue I feel. I’m sorry about the way events have played out.” The man held a hand over his heart. “My name is Juneau. I lead our people to a noble cause, one I know you understand. The eradication or conversion of the human population into something better, using the very being that you sought to summon to the Overworld. The Gods have abandoned their humans. Now is the time to act.”

Herobrine wanted to yawn. He might have cared about something like this, when he was human, but once he accepted the Wither’s influence over him and the Gods had banished him and his new God to the Nether, he’d given up those notions. Revenge had been the only thing on his mind, the only thing to fuel him through each day. The whims of humans—former humans included—did not interest him. There was only one human he cared to listen to and these people were keeping them apart. Unforgivable.

Juneau continued speaking, clearly unable to tell that he wasn’t interested in the slightest. “With you here, we can open a portal between the Overworld and the Void itself, centered here, and spread our influence out. Those that refuse to comply will be infected and killed to become wither skeletons. An army for us to weed out any resistance. I have thought long and hard over the course of action I can take to secure our victory, and with you on our side—“

Herobrine reached out with a mental hand, his power that much of an extention to him in this moment, wrapped it around Juneau’s head and twisted. An echoing crack preceded the thump of Juneau’s dead body hitting the floor, neck broken.

There was no satisfaction to be found. Herobrine would feel the same as if he’d just squashed a bug.

And yet…

The two Withered flanking Juneau did not react. The woman remained nervous, though not over the dead body, and the man gave a deep sigh, but neither seemed distraught over the sudden death of their leader. It set Herobrine on edge, hiked his senses up further. Something wasn’t right.

Then, Juneau’s body moved, pushing itself back into a stand. His head righted with a series of bone-chilling cracks. Blood had begun to leak from his mouth and nose, but it was carefully wiped away by a handkerchief pulled from Juneau’s pocket. When he opened his eyes, they were just as white as ever. Herobrine watched the scene with a terrible realization that Juneau was not going to be so easy to kill. The others, perhaps, but his mind was already racing for answers. Was that Juneau’s power? Did the Wither have to die before he did? Or was the only way to kill him to chop off his head? Would that even kill him?

Juneau rotated his head with a grimace, as if he had a simple kink in his neck.

“Well, now that’s out of the way, why don’t we continue our conversation in a more civilized manner?” Juneau said, pocketing the bloodied handkerchief. He was calm and collected, despite Herobrine having just broken his neck without much effort. He’d hardly moved. His power was obvious, but Juneau wasn’t fazed.

Herobrine looked over. Blake was frowning down at his hand, but he didn’t seem to be in pain. Just the fact that he was troubled was enough for Herobrine though. Something had to be happening on Steve’s end of their bond. He hated to imagine where Steve could be and what could have caused such an injury, to have Blake react that way.

He returned his attention to Juneau, who was smiling patiently at him.

He couldn’t believe he ever wanted to learn more about these people like him. To want the subjugation and enslavement of humanity was pointless. Herobrine didn’t believe for a single second that the Gods were truly gone. Such an affront was sure to gain their attention, and death would be their punishment, of that Herobrine had no doubt. The Nether wasn’t enough to contain them. Death would be easier for the Gods to enact.

Herobrine’s mind was already made up. He looked squarely into Juneau’s eyes and said, “No.”

Juneau’s smile dropped a little and his expression turned slightly confused. “No?”

“I don’t give a single fuck about whatever plan you think will work. The only thing I see happening from taking over the dimensions is a sure summoning of the Gods and a swift death as punishment. You’d have to be a complete idiot to believe the Gods would let you go through with this.”

Juneau was clearly not comprehending what he was trying to say, if his placating expression was anything to go by.

“Ah but you see, the Gods have not—“

“You think they wouldn’t come back?” He interrupted. The reasoning behind this ultimate plan was so unfathomably flawed that Herobrine felt his anger rising again, threatening to spiral out of his control. All of this unnecessary hurt and anguish because Juneau believed the Gods were truly gone? When he had no proof?

Younger him might have jumped at this opportunity. Current him was disgusted by the sheer stupidity involved.

“I can’t believe that’s your plan,” he said, honestly a little stunned. “And you thought I’d go along with it?”

Fortunately, Juneau realized that his reaction was genuine. The confusion on his face made Herobrine want to do unspeakably horrible things to him. “I don’t understand, your notes—“

“I wrote those 200 years ago!” He yelled, letting some rage leak out. He took a step forward, delighted to see all three of the Withered before him take a step back. Behind him, he could feel Adelaide fighting his command to kneel. He internally snarled for her to be still and a frustrated growl was his answer as her straining stopped. Splitting his attention wasn’t going to work for long. “You’re telling me you based your plan on something some stranger wrote 200 years ago, and without proof that the Gods were truly gone?”

“They are gone,” Juneau said confidently. He gestured to where Herobrine knew the Wither was floating, amused by the argument. “I summoned another Wither and the Gods did nothing!”

“I’m done listening to this,” Herobrine growled. He couldn’t keep Adelaide down and fight the other three at the same time. He could already feel her breaking free as his attention waned. The Withered, keeping an eye on Blake, and still reeling from discovering Steve was alive—it was too much, even for him.

The moment Adelaide broke free, she lunged for him, tears in her eyes but rage marring her expression. She was like an animal as she summoned her axe and swung, heavy hits that normally might have staggered him. But he was so in tune with his powers that he deflected or blocked the attacks easily, enchanted sword and axe clashing, metal on metal ringing throughout the cavern. He could tell there were no thoughts beyond revenge in Adelaide’s mind. Could see the hate in her eyes, and he sneered in the face of it. She should be thanking him—he could and should have made Alex’s death much, much more painful.

Adelaide might have been angry, but it was no match for his own contained rage. He wielded it like a weapon, using the emotion to strengthen his attacks, sharpen his senses, exert his will over the others. The Wither’s presence was smothered under his own as he fought to kill the individuals responsible for a lot of the hurt in his life over the last few months.

His power was too strong for Adelaide. He could sense the weakness as she expended her energy wastefully. But she had one advantage.

She wasn’t alone.

He sensed the object being thrown at him and teleported away at the last moment. The potion bottled sailed through the air where he used to be and shattered against the floor. He snarled and looked to the side, but as soon as he saw the larger Withered and the girl, his vision doubled. Something slithered its way around his mind, warping his perception of reality, and though he knew it was there, that it was the girl, she eluded him, slipping through his fingers whenever he was sure he’d cornered her presence in his mind. The distraction allowed for Adelaide to come barreling into him, knocking them to the ground with him flat on his back.

She yelled her rage into his face as she reeled back and punched him, again and again. The outside stimulus helped him climb his way back to reality, catching her next punch and baring with teeth as he crushed her hand in his grip. She shouted in pain and leaned away, giving him a chance to bring his feet up and kick her off him. He climbed to his feet, wiping the thin trail of blood that escaped his mouth from a split lip. Like the rest of his powers, his healing was far beyond its normal limits. Any bruises from Adelaide’s punches were already healed, as was his split lip.

Adelaide wasn’t so lucky. She was growling and keeping her hand cradled against her chest, glaring at him. He spit a mixture of saliva and blood onto the ground and summoned his enchanted sword back to his hand, then teleported to her.

The larger Withered must have anticipated his move, since the potion already headed that way hit him square in the back.

Instantly he felt like his strength was being sapped at an alarming rate. The sword fell from his grasp, too heavy to hold. His body was fighting to remain upright as his legs threatened to buckle from his own weight.

Adelaide stood and her axe appeared. She wasted no opportunity to lash out at him. The axe was mere inches from hitting him before he was able to command his body to teleport several feet away, however he did drop to his knees once he appeared.

His breathing was labored, putting a strain on his entire body. He stared down at his shaking hands, clenching his teeth hard.

Looking up, he saw three of the four Withered staring at him. Juneau was missing.

In panic, he looked over to where Blake was, but the man was still standing against the wall, no longer looking at his own hand but with his arms crossed, casually watching.

Juneau appeared before him suddenly, and with his powers temporarily dampened, he was too slow to anticipate it, though the knife coming for him was easy enough to block. He threw up his arm, keeping Juneau’s hand away from him, but at the last moment Juneau turned the knife into his arm, cutting a long slice into his flesh before teleporting away. His healing struggled to close the wound, which bled heavily onto the ground below him.

The potion’s effects were pissing him off. He started raising his body temperature, and the temperature of the room at large. If he couldn’t nullify the potion the normal way, he’d burn it out.

Like a light switch flicking, his body snapped out of the potion’s influence. He stood and summoned his sword back to him.

Adelaide charged at him again, and he easily blocked her attack, kicking her away only to dodge backwards when the larger Withered appeared between them and aimed a punch his way. He blocked it, but didn’t anticipate the strength behind the punch. It sent him skidding across the stone, bones reverberating from the heavy hit before they settled and his healing kicked in.

Again, the three Withered were before him, but there was no sign of Juneau. He was helpless against the urge to look over at Blake, fearing for his and by proxy Steve’s safety, only to have Juneau appear near him again, knife already mid-swing. Herobrine lashed out this time instead of blocking, letting the knife cut into his side without a care as he stabbed his sword through Juneau’s heart. The man choked and his body fell to the ground, a heavy thump that Herobrine hoped was for good. And as he lay there, still, Herobrine felt slightly more satisfaction that the kill had finally stuck.

The small distraction allowed for Adelaide and the large Withered to teleport to either side of him. Adelaide was quicker, giving him the perfect chance to block her attack and then grab her, quickly flipping their positions to make the punch heading his way hit her in the back instead. He teleported out of harm’s way as Adelaide was sent crashing into the wall.

The large Withered cursed and sent a series of punches his way, all of which he dodged expertly until he saw an opening to catch one. It was strong, sent shockwaves along his arm, but not strong enough. He squeezed the fist in his grip until he heard blood vessels burst and bones crunch, then used that grip to yank the Withered forward and attempt to sheathe his sword into the man’s gut. But the Withered twisted to the side, forcing his sword to scrape along his side instead, nonfatal. Herobrine sneered and kicked the man away instead, sending him, like Adelaide, crashing into the opposite wall.

As it was only the girl left, he wasn’t at all expecting Juneau to teleport in front of him and land a strike across his chest. The knife sliced passed his shirt and into his flesh. Blood sprayed out and dripped heavily onto the floor, but his healing closed the wound almost instantly. He snarled and went for the man’s heart again, but this time he teleported away, completely out of sight.

When he looked at the girl again, she tried the same trick as before, but this time he was ready. He steeled his mind and forced his will to overpower her’s. It wasn’t hard. She seemed less suited for fighting, with her strength being solely in her power. She and the others probably relied on it.

He repelled her attempt and teleported in front of her, burying his sword easily into her gut. She gasped wetly, and blood began pouring from her mouth. The stream became like a waterfall, and he backed up, confused as her entire body turned to blood and splashed onto the ground.

He stared at the scene, uncomprehending, until reality snapped back into place just as Juneau raked the knife across his back this time. He shouted in pain and whipped around. Juneau had already disappeared but the girl was there. He could sense her power focused on him.

The feel of it was becoming familiar. Her ability to mimic reality was impressive, and useful. But he was stronger.

He glared at her. His power swelled.

Like with Juneau, he could envision his power like an invisible force, extending beyond his body. He shot it forward and had it wrap around her neck, surprising her. How could she react if she didn’t see it coming?

He didn’t teleport this time, instead he walked over to her, all confidence and power. He knew he had the upper hand. He kept his power coiled tight, a supernova burning inside him. Her attempts to infiltrate his mind were repelled by the intense heat at his core. Her struggles became wild as her access to air was denied. And when he reached her, he didn’t hesitate to swing his sword clean through her body, side to side. Her bottom half dropped like a sack of meat, her top half following a few seconds later as his power snapped back to him.

Energy sizzled just under his skin. He turned around, expecting the other Withered to be there, but it was only the Wither and Blake. Adelaide and the large Withered were gone from where they’d crashed into the walls.

He growled, angry that they’d escape him. He stalked towards where Adelaide and Alex had entered from, fully intending to find the other Withered and kill them, but a hand settled on his shoulder. He spun around, sword poised, but hesitated. Blake wasn’t standing right behind him, luckily, as he’d teleported a few feet away probably expecting Herobrine to try and attack him for getting his attention. Herobrine still stared at him intensely.

“We should go,” Blake stated. Herobrine didn’t feel like speaking. His power surged within him, unhappy that the action was over, still craving blood and death. Revenge.

“We need to find Steve, remember? He’s in trouble.” Blake even held out his foot, shaking it as if to remind him. And slowly, so slowly, Herobrine came back to himself a little, enough to remember why they were there in the first place, and the fact that Steve was not with them.

He dismissed his sword.

“Do you know where he is?”

Blake eyed him wearily, but answered truthfully. Herobrine had to give him credit. His outward appearance was calm, maybe even indifferent, but his heart was racing. In response to the fight maybe? Or in fear of Herobrine right now?

“Unfortunately no, but I think I have an idea.”

It wasn’t good enough. Herobrine needed to see Steve alive now.

He reached forward and took Blake’s arm, teleporting them to the surface, back to the dilapidated shack they’d stayed in. The fight was over, for now. Finding Steve was his top priority.

“What’s your idea?” He demanded.

“I feel a pull to Steve, like we’re connected by a string. But when I was in the Nether, I didn’t feel anything, and I don’t feel anything right now. So that leads me to believe he’s in the Nether.”

“Fuck,” Herobrine cursed, taking a deep breath. He didn’t feel quite right, anymore. As the adrenaline faded, as his body and mind realized he was out of immediate danger, his power receded. His arms shook and his legs refused to move. A buzzing took root in his brain, blocking out whatever Blake was saying. His mouth moved, but no words reached Herobrine’s ears. His vision wavered. Sweat broke out across his brow.

“We need…to get…we n-need…” Herobrine couldn’t finish his sentence. He staggered forward, then dropped to his knees. The last thing he saw before passing out was Blake shouting for him.

The deaths of Alex and Jasmine were heavy tolls, but necessary. Juneau allowed them both a quiet moment before getting to work. He believed those sacrifices to be worth it. Everything he’d been working towards was finally ready to come to fruition. His body was buzzing with electric excitement. Herobrine might have escaped, might not have reacted favorably to his plan, but his part in the ritual was done, and he hadn’t even known he was doing it.

Juneau stood over one of the many bloodstains. He’d been careful about spilling Herobrine’s blood, only doing so in four special points in the room, each spill over a rune. Four runes that connected in the middle, where the Wither was floating ominously, observing him. A larger rune, in the shape of a square, decorated the floor beneath it. The corners extended to touch the runes covered in Herobrine’s blood.

From within his tunic he retrieved a series of vials. The dark red liquid inside sloshed sluggishly. He had five vials, each filled near to the brim with blood. One of his, and another for each of the other Withered. With Herobrine’s blood available for use, and all the Void energy the Wither had been able to drain from those born with it that they’d captured, he fully believed the ritual now possible.

He went around and spilled the contents of all the vials among the four runes. A heavy presence began to fill the room. He smiled once he was done. Finally, his research and sacrifices would be for something worthwhile, something important. Finally, the Overworld would change for the better.

He stood just outside the perimeter of the runes once the blood was drained from each vial. The Wither turned his direction. That heavy presence around him doubled.

The Wither exuded power, spreading its influence out. The rune below it turned a deep purple, which leaked outwards until the four smaller runes covered in blood began to glow as well. Four beams of light, like larger beacons, shot up from the runes. The room started shaking as the power coming from the Wither steadily climbed.

Juneau watched, transfixed. The sound was enough to nearly burst his eardrums, but he wouldn’t dare look away now, nevermind leave the cavern. This was history in the making!

Cracks began to form from the four outer runes, spreading out across the floor, up along the walls and ceiling. The entire room began to shake like there was an earthquake. Then, the ceiling directly above the portal caved, but the falling debris disintegrated before it could hit the ground. Purple shocks of light crackled from the runes, protecting it. Fresh air and moonlight invaded the cavern.

Everything built to a crescendo, and then the Wither pivoted in place and shot three skulls into the center of the rune below it, creating a small explosion. A large cloud of dust was kicked up and blinded Juneau temporarily. He coughed as the power in the room settled, though the humming of an active portal remained. And as the dust cloud faded away, he could see the results of his hard work. What appeared to be a large, empty hole into nothingness was the key to a new era.

Finally, after all these years, the portal had been opened. And they were just getting started.

Heat.

Pain.

Flashes of light.

Muffled sounds.

The rough drag of stone against skin.

Reality flickered in and out.

It was the pain that kept overtaking his thoughts, when he was conscious enough to have them. All he felt was pain from everywhere. One big wound, flayed open and burning. The most intense pain was centered on his foot, a step above the rest.

He didn’t know how long he drifted between consciousness, nor where he was. He was so tired. So, so tired. Opening his eyes felt like too arduous a task.

His other senses offered no help. He was in the Nether, he knew that much, but whether he was in a structure or not was impossible to tell with his eyes closed. It was hot regardless, and the pain made it hard for him to care. His previous injuries didn’t help. Breathing the dry air felt like glass scraping down his throat. His stomach ached fiercely, doubling the discomfort of simply breathing.

Sound was his best bet, but right now, he could only hear his blood rushing through his head, and his heart thumping in his chest, rabbit fast.

So he was content to drift. Some small part of him, smothered beneath the recent trauma and pain, was screaming. Get up, get out, danger! But he was just too tired.

His first real moment of awareness was brought on by a constant prodding at his chest. Brows furrowing in irritation and confusion, he blinked open his eyes.

He was in a room, and it was dark. Not from lack of light, but from the coal black bricks around him. They were familiar, pinged a memory in the back of his mind, but his thoughts were too scrambled to recall. There were two points of interest in this room: the wall opposite him, and the baby piglin in front of him.

He stared at the baby piglin in wonder, confusion, disbelief, then looked up at the wall. The stone across from him was broken up with iron bars, but they were old, and some of the bars were missing. There was a gap he could walk out, if only he could walk.

His gaze dropped to the baby piglin. Seeing he was awake, it ceased its prodding and squealed at him, jumping up and down. He just continued to stare at it, confused. Once it realized he wasn’t up for entertaining it, it huffed and crossed its tiny arms. It looked like it was pouting.

Steve was too tired to care, or find its antics amusing. He looked away from it again, observing the room. Aside from the iron bars, there was nothing interesting in the room. It was completely empty.

The baby piglin made a high pitched oink that drew his attention to it, but all it did was turn and run out of the room. He watched it go apathetically, eyes tracing over the gap in the iron bars he could easily fit through. Helplessness washed over his heart.

Tired eyes dipped to his foot. He was propped up against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him. His injured foot was awful. Nausea rose in his throat the longer he looked at it, and he had to cast his gaze away, swallowing heavily.

It hit him after a few silent moments. His breath hitched and his eyes burned.

It wasn’t fair.

It was when he tried to lift his arms that he realized something was off about them. Through vision made blurry by tears, he saw the creeping shade of dark gray that indicated the infection of wither in both his arms. It was almost to the sleeves of his shirt now. He squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his jaw, barely keeping it together. The determination he’d felt, the plan to find Jean, rescue Herobrine—it was thoroughly ripped apart. He was tired of crying, of needing to be rescued, but he was only human, and this was too much. He still wanted to escape and find Herobrine, but he physically couldn’t, and it was frustrating. The urge to give up was strong, nearly overbearing, but he didn’t want to give in. The odds were just too against him.

And then he remembered Buddy, and that hopelessness and despair doubled. Buddy had been a friend to him, his companion. Buddy had saved his life, that night in the plains biome. Buddy protected him and cared about his safety. And now…Buddy was…

Despite his best efforts, tears escaped and quiet sobs wracked his body. It hurt, inside and out.

He cried pitifully until the tears dried out. The heat of the Nether meant the tears trailing down his cheeks evaporated quickly, leaving itchy residue in their wake. But once his eyes refused to let anything more escape, he just sat there, exhausted, breathing unevenly until that, too, settled.

Time passed. The only clue he had to how long it’d been since…Buddy and his injury…was his foot itself. The wound was still somewhat fresh, angry and red from what he could see beneath his slowly tattering jeans. It certainly felt that way. The slightest twitch sent fire straight up his leg to his brain, a siren in his ear yelling for him to stop. The pain was agonizing, when he couldn’t help but think about it. His thoughts drifted between the pain, consumed wholly by it, or the helpless situation he now found himself in. Neither were uplifting, and tanked his mood even more.

He found brief, periodic respite from it all by closing his eyes and picturing Herobrine’s face. Gods he missed him. He’d do anything to be out of the Nether and reunited with Herobrine right about now. Anything to leave this life behind and start a new one with someone he loved. The Gods or the universe or fate, whatever it could be called, had a different plan for them, and he was sick of it. Everyone else could go fuck themselves.

A growing hunger began to naw at his stomach. His throat screamed for water. The gap in the iron bars taunted him. His foot hurt and his arms were numb.

Finally—unfortunately—the monotony broke by the appearance of a piglin. It was holding a sword and gestured to something outside the room he couldn’t see, before turning and addressing him with various angry oinks. Steve just looked at it with tired eyes, wondering if or when it was going to realize he couldn’t understand.

It huffed, as if he was the one being uncooperative, before stomping into the room and gesturing more aggressively towards the iron bars. Steve eyed them, then flicked his gaze to the piglin. Surely it didn’t expect him to get up and walk.

“I—“ Attempting to talk sent him into a coughing fit. It ended with the taste of blood at the back of his throat. Eyes watering from the strain, he tried again, if only to appease the piglin. He didn’t want more bones crushed. “I…don’t…unders-stand,” he said roughly, practically whispering the words.

The piglin huffed again and then squealed loudly, its voice seeming to echo in the small room.

Steve winced and kept looking between the piglin and the iron bars, not knowing what to expect. Was it calling to something?

He couldn’t handle guessing on the possibilities, so he nervously sat there, breath shallow. The threat of danger was just as powerful and effective as actual danger.

In a blast of black smoke, the creature that was once Buddy appeared in the room between him and the piglin. His body felt frozen as he stared up in horror at it, and he gasped on instinct.

Buddy’s face whipped down to him, and it screeched, reaching out to twist its fist in the front of his shirt. He jolted away, hissing in pain as the movement exacerbated his many injuries, but Buddy’s hold would tear his shirt before it let go. A black smoke began to emit from Buddy’s body, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut hard, bracing himself.

They teleported, and afterwards, Buddy shoved him away. He was thrown onto his back, head banging painfully against stone. His ears rang shrilly and his headache was full force pounding right behind his eyes. Each little movement of his body threatened to expel the meager contents of his stomach. He knew he was breathing a little too fast, but he couldn’t stop it. Laying on his back, body held tense in an effort not to move, breath rapid, heart racing. Eyes squeezed shut. Let him wake from this nightmare. Let it all be a terrible dream, and he’d wake up in that inn next to Herobrine, who would smile at him and they’d have breakfast and talk and be happy.

The heat stayed, an overbearing weight digging its claws into his lungs. The ominous sound of the Nether itself, a low drumming tone, almost too quiet to hear, continued to plague him. The pain remained. There was a fire ignited in his foot, he was sure of it. The searing pain stabbed into his nerves at every twitch. It felt swollen and heavy.

An aggressive warble from Buddy and a claw roughly grasping his arm jolted him half back to reality. Eyes flinging open, he couldn’t utter a syllable of defense before Buddy hoisted him up.

Being vertical nearly sent him under. A massive head rush made his vision spin sickeningly. The headache refusing to leave him in peace doubled in intensity. His foot was now pulsing with every beat of his heart. He was quick to lean on his healthy foot to alleviate the pain as much as possible.

He was panting from the effort of simply standing, even with Buddy’s claw tight on his arm, helping to keep him up. He could barely feel it.

Sweat beaded across his forehead and along the bridge of his nose. His hair felt damp from it. An itchy drop trailed down his temple to his jaw. The air was hotter than usual.

Buddy did nothing more, granting Steve a few moments to look around. The sudden increase of temperature was from the lava around them. Buddy had teleported them onto a platform in the middle of a lava pool. Two columns about double his height were the only structures on it. Steve swallowed and winced at the chains hanging from them. The platform appeared to be at the bottom of a large hollow room with hallways and stairs taking piglins up and down. Everything was made of that black brick, like…like when he and Herobrine had visited the piglins to retrieve that iron ingot. That’s where he’d seen it before. A place where piglins gathered, if he recalled correctly. The name completely escaped him though.

But he was definitely right about where he’d seen the brick before. And looking around, he could see the many piglins on each layer taking peaks at him and conversing with each other. He felt exposed, out in the open, surrounded by lava.

Lost in his thoughts, he missed whatever Buddy had been doing and sucked in a breath when the mob yanked him forward. Without thinking, he stepped to catch himself.

The next thing he knew, he was panting raggedly, hanging by his arm from Buddy’s savagely tight grip. There was a numbness spreading up his leg, matching both arms. A high pitched ringing blocked out all sound, and his vision was wavering heavily. Had they slipped him a potion of nausea? That’s what it felt like.

Lost in the pain and confusion, he moved automatically with whatever Buddy was doing to him. The heat of the chains registered almost as an afterthought before his knees were kicked out from under him. Crying out only served to tear up his throat more, but the pain was so intense he was helpless to his instincts. It hurt.

At least he was on his knees now, taking some weight off his feet. His foot didn’t like being pressed against the ground, but if he didn’t move, the pain would settle enough for him to partially ignore it. His one saving grace was the almost complete lack of feeling in his wrists thanks to the wither. They’d hurt before, achey from when Adelaide had almost broken them, but now there was a distinct lack of feeling all along his arms, up to the elbows and growing.

It was the sudden goosebumps spreading across his skin that finally clued him in that something was wrong. Well, more wrong. Lifting his head enough to look was a monumental task that nearly zapped his strength away, but he was able to see the Wither floating directly before him. That sense of hopelessness currently festering within him was briefly overshadowed by anger.

A pleasant sight indeed. Have you something to say or shall we begin?

Steve wanted to spit at it, curse it to the Overworld and back, kick out and strike it, but his body wasn’t responding to much impulse right now. Even if his foot would let him move freely, he was so exhausted he doubted he could get up to do much of anything. He had to settle for a muted glare. He didn’t even feel like being angry, his psyche was fucked that much.

Admirable, but if silence is your last action as a free man, then so be it.

The Wither, seeming much larger when floating on a relatively small platform, came closer, until its six intense white eyes were all staring down at him. The absence of emotion on its face made predicting its thoughts or next move impossible. Steve was truly blind as to what could happen next, though he could definitely imagine it, if his sanity allowed. It wasn’t up for much right now though.

I can make it painless. If you do as I say, I can make the pain go away. Do you understand?

What, was it going to question him? He gave it a funny look. What the hell was this? Was it trying to play nice?

Buddy was still there, standing off to the side, teeth bared in a snarl at him. Noticing his gaze, it snapped at him. Was Buddy there to make good on any threats? Surely the Wither could see his numerous and severe injuries? Much more would only work against it.

He tipped his head down slightly, then back up. A small nod. The Wither sounded pleased when next it spoke.

Very good. Now tell me, where is Herobrine?

Steve could have rolled his eyes. He was tempted. But the whole lack of energy thing applied even to that, and besides, he didn’t want to give the Wither anymore reason to hurt him. He wasn’t an idiot. He might be royally fucked and in a lot of pain, but he knew the Wither was definitely going to hurt him whether he answered its questions correctly or not. Still, he felt compelled to answer.

“O-Overw-world,” he managed. And it wasn’t even a lie. The Wither was silent for a bit before, on some unseen command, Buddy teleported in front of him and struck him across the face.

He cried out. Both the strike and the strain on his throat sent his headache into overdrive. His vision was blurry now, as the pressure in his head felt like enough to explode.

“Gone,” and then, when he thought about it he added, “Ta—k-ken.”

The Wither made a low sound and slowly turned around, drifting out onto the lava. It floated lazily while Buddy kept an eye on him. Not that he was capable of doing anything, but Buddy probably didn’t need too convincing an excuse to hit him again. Eventually, the Wither floated back to him.

Taken. Perfect. That traitorous bastard will finally prove useful. He’s served me well, but his time will come to a fortuitous end.

Buddy’s hand returned, but only to grab his jaw and force his head up, so he had to look at the Wither.

Perhaps I should thank you, human. Without your incompetence, leaving the Nether would still be far from the realm of possibilities available to me. And though I hate to leave you so soon when our fun’s just begun, I’m afraid more important manners require my attention. The Wither gave off a very condescending vibe Steve wasn’t too out of to pick up on. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good company.

On cue, a piglin holding an axe jumped across the broken path separating the isolated platform from the rest of the structure. Its oinks sounded like a laugh as it appeared to be talking to the Wither, axe slung over its shoulder casually. His very own warden.

Buddy didn’t spare him a glance before it lifted its hand to the Wither and they disappeared, just like that.

It hit him that, this was his punishment. Not to die, of course, because he was always forced to live in pain and agony. It’d been like that his whole life—being chased from villages, being alone, betrayed, hurt. Why he thought now would be any different was beyond him. Even with Herobrine in his life, it seemed he was doomed to suffer.

Naturally, his thoughts strayed to Herobrine, and he couldn’t help but go straight for the worst case scenarios. Was Herobrine alive? Steve wanted to believe he was stronger than the other Withered, maybe even combined. Did Herobrine think he was dead? Would rescue ever come? Buddy was…gone. No one even knew he was here.

It was those thoughts that sapped the last of his already heavily waning determination. He sagged in the chains despite the pain of his wrists, letting his head hang down. Hopelessness crushed at his heart. He’d been foolish, thinking he could escape what fate had planned for him. Him and happiness clearly weren’t meant to be.

The piglins set up patrols around him. He hardly noticed their movements. Sometimes a piglin holding an axe would come up to him and oink several times, grunt and growl in a way that Steve assumed meant attempts at conversation. He didn’t care, just kept his head down. The exhaustion made it easy to slip into a half-state—he traced his eyes over the texture of the stone beneath him, again and again, until everything else faded away. The oinks, the gurgling of lava, the heat and pain and emotions. A wall of apathy neatly held it all back as he stared. His peripheral vision faded until the sole focus of his attention was the rough black stone.

And then—

Steve.

He looked up.

He wasn’t on the platform anymore. He wasn’t anywhere. He was floating in an empty inky darkness, alone. And though he recognized the voice calling to him, it was hard to muster up excitement. For all he knew, he was hallucinating.

“Jean?” He asked. His voice echoed strangely through the nothingness.

I’m here, came her ethereal voice. It sounded distant, but Steve could understand the words. It was as if they were speaking to each other through a wall. When I felt Buddy become corrupted by Simmons, I tried to find some way to connect to you. I knew you were in trouble. Her tone became saddened. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened.

Thinking about Buddy was a one-way ticket to losing all rational thought to hysteria. He shook his head, despite her being unable to see. Or maybe she could. He wasn’t convinced this wasn’t a hallucination or trick. Part of him wanted to believe, but the other part of him stomped that hope down. Still, his voice held a particular thickness when he spoke next. “Buddy was gonna lead me to the End. It—It thought you could help.”

When Jean didn’t immediately respond, Steve couldn’t help but fear her presence was gone. His heart leapt to his throat, beating loud in his ears as he strained to hear a response. That part of him that questioned the validity of her presence cursed him for so easily falling victim to hope.

“Jean?” He questioned, probably pitifully but he was way past caring.

Our options are limited, but I have a plan that will work. Tell me, where are you right now?

“I-In the Nether. They, uhm…there’s a lot of piglins nearby, b-but I’m not sure exactly where—“

It’s alright, Jean assured. I’m going to send endermen to rescue you. Are you injured?

“Yes.”

Okay. I’m having some endermen look for bastions. Once you’re found, I’ll have you teleported directly to a portal so you can escape. Then the endermen will bring you to me, do you understand?

He nodded, then remembered he should speak aloud. Probably. He didn’t know how this whole mindscape thing worked. “What about—“

He was cut off when the entire mindscape shook violently, like an earthquake. When it stopped, just as suddenly as it’d started, he looked around, utterly baffled.

“What the hell was that?”

Her voice was urgent when she answered. Something terrible, but don’t worry about it right now. Just focus on conserving energy. I promise we’ll find you.

His nose burned as emotion welled tears in his eyes, but he blinked them away, sniffing. Hope was returning, hesitantly but unmistakably making its way back to the forefront of his heart. He could trust Jean. She was here to help. And he believed in her. Soon he’d be out of the Nether, he could heal, and then ask Jean to help him find Herobrine.

“I know you will,” he agreed, smiling. He didn’t know if she could see it, but it made him feel better. Things were going to be okay.

Light started to penetrate the darkness around him. Sensation crept back into his awareness. The heat, his knees pressed to the stone, his foot, his gut. Jean’s voice faded.

Just hold on. It echoed quietly. We’ll find you.

The darnkess shattered and he inhaled, only to cough roughly as his throat protested. Nails scraping the inside of his throat, and by the time he settled, he spat a glob of blood onto the stone. Swallowing was torturous.

It was chaos around him. Piglins were oinking and snorting rapidly to each other, the entire bastion a flurry of activity. That strange earthquake—er, netherquake?—must have been real. Nothing else explained the panic with which the piglins moved. He just closed his eyes and breathed, remembering what Jean had instructed. 

Conserve energy. The endermen will be here soon.

He hoped she was right.

Chapter Text

Luck, it seemed, was on his side for once.

Not long after the shaking stopped, the piglins began to yell and rush out of the inner chamber he was being kept. They were taking up arms and some even put chest armor on. Steve prayed with everything he had that it was the endermen, that they’d found him and were rescuing him.

Sounds of equipment that were much closer than the rest of the chaos managed to draw his attention. With effort he lifted his head to look around, dismayed to see piglins wielding crossbows pointing right at him. It was something that’d crossed his mind, the use of arrows against endermen a great hinderance to the plan.

Only a few seconds passed before an enderman appeared directly in front of him. Arrows loosed mere seconds later, as the enderman contemplated the best way to free him from the chains, making itself an easy target. Without even looking, as if driven by pure subconscious instinct, the mob teleported to the side, out of harm’s way. Only then did it react, opening its mouth in rage and screaming at the piglins before engaging them in combat.

Steve followed the action as best he could, but it was hard to stay awake. He wanted to pass out, to be free of all this pain, but he didn’t want wake up and find out the endermen failed. He didn’t think he could handle it.

More luck was on his side though, as it became pretty clear to him that the endermen were a type of mob the piglins simply couldn’t beat. Their ability to teleport was too strong, and even the crossbow piglins were being overwhelmed by the sheer number of endermen Steve was spotting. Dozens if he had to guess.

Another enderman appeared before him and made some hurried noises that Steve, unfortunately, couldn’t understand. He vaguely wondered if it was possible to learn the language…

A light tap to his cheek drew his attention back. The enderman gestured to the manacles around his wrists. Without knowing what the mob was asking, Steve just shook his head.

The enderman reached for him, setting its hands lightly along his sides, just under his arms. He was confused briefly, wondering what the heck it was doing, before his world was violently ripped from under him when the enderman teleported, taking him with it and effectively freeing him from the chains.

His vision nearly blacked out completely. He didn’t know where he was—all he knew was nausea. His stomach immediately rebelled and he doubled over, though without having eaten recently, the only thing to be expelled was stomach acid and blood as the violent action ripped up his throat even more. Following the nausea was intense vertigo that threatened to send him to the hard stone, but though his knees were weak and he felt boneless, he somehow remained standing.

The minutes ticked by where he simply stood there, lamenting living. Everything hurt worse now that he’d thrown up. His throat was burning, his stomach a giant sore pulsing in time with his heart beat, his foot so painfully wrong that it sent goosebumps across his flesh if he thought too hard about it. The headache hammering away, never-ending. At least he couldn’t feel his arms, the wither saw to that. He was thankfully spared the pain of his wrists.

When he could breath without feeling like his stomach was going to protest more, and when his limbs had stopped shaking as much, he finally opened his eyes to see where he was. Still in that main chamber, just on a ledge above the lava pit where he’d been chained. The enderman’s hand placement from earlier made much more sense now—it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Its hushed but no less urgent sounds helped Steve find reality. Right, get the hell out of the Nether and then pass out. Those were his two priorities right now. But he couldn’t let the enderman teleport him again or he really would lose consciousness, and he wanted to avoid that until he knew he was safe. Well, safer than he was now.

But Gods the thought of talking was just awful. He dreaded even thinking it. And with every passing second, he felt more and more inclined to just let that sweet, sweet blanket of unconsciousness take him under. It was so incredibly tempting. He could feel it sneaking its way in, as his blinks became longer and longer. Giving in would be so easy…

“Holy shit,” came a familiar voice.

He looked up, and could have cried in relief.

“Herobrine? Hey—!”

Blake cut himself off with a curse, rushing over to where Herobrine was collapsed on the ground. He dropped to his knees and turned the fallen man over, mildly panicked that something was wrong. Based on what he’d just seen in that fight, he didn’t think Herobrine was badly injured or even injured at all, but maybe the guy had just shrugged it off and was suffering for it now. Gods Blake hoped not. Then they’d really be fucked.

He did a quick once over, patting various areas and looking for signs of bleeding but couldn’t find anything. He sat back on his heels, sighing in relief. Herobrine must have just overused his powers or something. But at least he wasn’t injured.

Only…well shit. Blake quickly realized that, either way, Herobrine being unconscious due to injuries or exhaustion didn’t truly matter—the fact that he was unconscious at all was bad. Because now what the fuck was Blake to do? He was stuck out here, not even that far away from Graven, with Herobrine’s unconscious body his only company. And it wasn’t like he could teleport away. Where the fuck would he go? He needed to find Steve and make sure the unlucky bastard didn’t get himself and Blake killed. He shivered remembering the intense pain in his foot, and dreaded thinking of what Steve might currently be going through. Since the foot injury, Blake had felt mild injuries healed quickly by his body, except for his hands and arms, which tingled unpleasantly. Whatever was causing it couldn’t be good.

Suddenly the ground shook wildly, sending him to the ground. He cursed and struggled to hold onto something, anything, even the fucking grass, but the wild shaking kept throwing him off balance. He looked around in confusion, trying to make sense of things. What the hell was happening? An earthquake?

When it subsided, he pushed himself up and checked on Herobrine briefly. Everything was as it was before, but the chances that a random earthquake decided to strike right now was unlikely to say the least. After that fight? No way. Blake wouldn’t put it passed the Wither and Juneau doing some crazy dumb shit.

And, just like he pressummed, when he looked towards Graven, there was a large, dark, and ominous cloud forming above it. The sun was blotted out and a wind picked up around them. The temperature dropped a bit, like it was about to rain.

He looked down at Herobrine, frowning.

Well…fuck.

Blake—

“Holy fuck!” He shouted, startled by Jean’s voice suddenly speaking to him. But she didn’t seem to realize, as she spoke quickly and urgently.

You and Herobrine need to come to The End immediately.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” He said, looking at Herobrine’s unconscious form. He didn’t even know how to do that.

As if to answer, an enderman appeared next to them. Blake eyed it suspiciously.

“Buddy?” He asked, but the enderman made no show of knowing what the fuck he was talking about. It instead looked at Herobrine, looked at him, and then made a hurried and, frankly, annoyed gesture to hurry up.

“Alright, alright, hold on,” Blake mumbled, grimacing at Herobrine. Well, here went nothing.

He stooped down and hauled Herobrine’s body over his shoulder, slightly off balance when he stood up fully but able to carry the weight with minimal trouble. The enderman held out its hand and Blake took the offering, shooting one last glance at the dark clouds before they disappeared.

However, when they reappeared, they were in a cave, not in the End like Blake expected. He didn’t know why he expected that, but he was confused nonetheless about appearing here. So when he saw the nether portal, he groaned and wanted to throw a tantrum like a child being forced to eat their least favorite vegetable.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he deadpanned to the enderman, who shrugged and walked into the portal without a word. Blake gave a long-suffering sigh, taking a second to close his eyes and tilt his head to the ceiling before following.

The Nether was as unpleasant as always, but what hit him instantly and aggressively was that pull he associated with Steve. It was tugging insistently almost ninety degrees to the direction the enderman was heading.

This was too good to be true. He couldn’t reasonably ignore the opportunity to find Steve, but having Herobrine be unconscious right now was less than ideal. An idea sprung to mind and he whistled for the enderman’s attention. When it looked at him, he shoved Herobrine into its arms. It stumbled with the sudden weight, making indignant sounds as he started jogging to wherever Steve was.

“Wait—”

“Sorry, but I gotta do something real quick!” He called back over his shoulder, leaving no time for the enderman to argue. He was sure Jean would understand. How could she not?

It took longer than he expected to find Steve. And by that he meant he’d been walking and teleporting around for like ten minutes and he didn’t feel any closer. Well, maybe a little but it wasn’t like he fully understood the ‘bond’ between them. Steve could literally be around the corner and he wouldn’t know going by what he currently felt.

But Steve was not around the corner, unfortunately, nor the next several. Blake was becoming equally more pissed and confused. Where the hell was he? That much time couldn’t have passed, so how far could he have really gotten? Especially since his foot was injured, if not broken. Maybe because of Buddy…?

As he traveled, he noticed several oddities that piqued his curiosity. It wasn’t like he’d spent a lot of time in the Nether, but things felt off. It was more…rubble-y than he would think. It seemed that everywhere he looked, there were piles of freshly broken off netherrack or in some cases basalt, laying awkwardly on the ground or in small pools of lava. Had the earthquake struck in the Nether too? How was that even possible?

He was beginning to think this whole ‘bond’ thing was fucking broken when he appeared abruptly from a teleport before a bastion remnant teeming with activity. Piglins were running around and shouting to each other, fighting off what looked like attacking endermen. As far as Blake knew, piglins and endermen didn’t have beef with each other, so the fact that they were fighting at all was weird enough to catch his attention. If he had to bet, he’d say Jean had something to do with this, which meant Steve was definitely here.

He observed the battle for a brief moment, just to see where everyone was, before spotting an opening in the massive structure. It looked like there had once been a hallway there, but it had since succumb to the wear of time and crumbled away. The piglins did not strike him as the kind of breed to care about unintended entrances to their bases. He’d take anything he could at this point. Besides, what were the piglins going to do, stab him? As if they even posed the smallest of problems for him.

Right after teleporting to the ledge, a wave of nausea and vertigo washed over him, momentarily halting him. He leaned into the wall beside him and took deep breaths until it passed. The lingering taste of bile and blood stained the back of his throat as he pushed from the wall and kept going.

There were piglins yelling and trying to coordinate attacks, but the endermen were outclassing them easily. Blake almost felt bad for the bastards, but he held no love for the Nether’s resident mob. Every once in a while an enderman would teleport near him and give him a strange look—or so he assumed, based on their limited facial range—before turning away and teleporting again. There was some humor to be found—he’d love to be able to see the kind of headache he was undoubtedly causing Jean, if she really had sent these endermen to…what, rescue Steve? Was that what was happening right now?

He rolled his eyes at the notion as he turned a corner, only to almost run head first into the very human he was searching for. He stopped short, taking in the sight with mild concern and astonishment. Because—

“Holy shit,” he said on instinct, causing Steve to look up at him.

“How the fuck are you even awake right now?”

Saying Steve looked awful was putting it lightly. The man looked like he’d legitimately been a polar bear’s chew toy, and then passed along to a pack of wolves. There were heavy bags under his eyes, a dark bruise was ringed around his neck, blood stains were soaked into his shirt and jeans, both of which had various holes and rips, and his arms were entirely blackened with wither. No wonder his own were tingling. Steve was currently being helped upright by another enderman, which had expressed slight aggression upon seeing him until realizing who he was. Blake trailed his eyes down, to where only one of Steve’s feet was helping the enderman to keep him sort-of-standing.

“What the hell happened?” He asked as he reached forward to take Steve’s weight from the enderman. He was sure the mob could handle it, but the height difference wasn’t doing much for Steve. Even just the quick shuffling over to Blake’s made Steve wince and grimace in pain, choked back groans held in his throat, and Blake made a split-second decision to just haul the human into a bridal carry, hoping to relieve some of the pain from his foot. His wither-infected arms hung limply in his lap.

It probably spoke to the human’s mental state that he didn’t even seem to care that it was Blake here to rescue him. Honestly Blake was confused about it as well, in regards to his own impulses to rescue Steve, but he chalked it up to knowing that if Steve died, he’d die, and he didn’t want that. He could examine the other emotions later, when he wasn’t in the Nether holding a nearly unconscious Steve.

And speaking off…

“Hey, you’re not gonna die on me, are you?” He asked as he started walking back the way he came, gesturing with a tilt of the head for the enderman to follow, which it did.

The quietest laugh escaped Steve, and even then it sounded rough. “I hope…n-not…”

Blake cringed at the sound. Yikes.

“Shut up, don’t try to talk,” he demanded. He increased his pace a little, eager to, at the very least, escape the Nether. “If you die, Herobrine will figure out a way to bring me back just so he can kill me again.”

Steve’s eyes were closed, but when Blake looked down he could see a smile on his face.

“Hero…brine…” Steve said quietly.

“What’d I say, huh? Quiet. Herobrine’s fine, alright? So don’t worry. Just like you’re going to be fine or he’ll definitely kill me.” Fuck, after what I just saw, he could probably figure out a way to kill me without harming one single hair on this guy’s head, he thought to himself. He really wouldn’t put it past Herobrine to be able to do that. All the more reason to make sure Steve made it out of here without more injury. That tingling in his arms was becoming distracting, which Blake did not like the thought of.

They came to the ledge Blake had previously teleported onto, and he scanned the area surrounding the bastion. There were piglins and endermen everywhere he looked.

He glanced at the enderman beside him. “How long are you guys gonna be here?”

The enderman side-eyed him. “Until he is gone,” it responded, pointing to Steve.

“Hmmmm,” Blake hummed in thought, looking below again. So the piglins wouldn’t follow them, that was good. But now he realized he didn’t know where the portal was to get out and to the End. He looked back up at the enderman.

“Can you take us to the portal out of here? I was following an enderman before but I got, uh, sidetracked.”

The tall mob nodded, then put its hand on his shoulder and teleported them away. They reappeared somewhere Blake vaguely recognized from his trip to the bastion, enough to know they were a good distance from it. Steve’s reaction to the teleport was unpleasant, if what Blake was feeling was any indication. Nausea and vertigo reared their ugly heads, but it was cut shorter than last time when he realized that Steve had passed out, sparing both of them further discomfort. Probably for the best, if Blake was being honest. He didn’t want to imagine how much pain Steve had been in. Just the fact that he’d been awake at all continued to amaze Blake.

When the portal did finally come into view, it couldn’t have been any sooner. Being in the Nether was horrible for several reasons, the worst of which was the oppressive aura of that asshole Wither he could sense. He counted himself lucky fuckin’ a million times over that the Wither had not shown up. He and Steve would probably be dead if that had been the case.

But despite his suspicion about the lack of Wither coming around to bother him, he followed the enderman into the portal without hindrance, stepping onto stone and finding himself in another cave.

To the left was a path completely swallowed in darkness. To the right, where the enderman was, the way was similarly swathed in complete black. It seemed wrong almost for anyone to be in this cave, disturbing the silence with labored breathing and footsteps like TNT explosions. The enderman made a sound and started walking, the only thing visible of it the iconic purple eyes. Turned away from him, he’d never know the mob was there by sight alone. Luckily he could sense its presence, and was able to follow it easily enough. Tripping hazards were a pain, but the way was thankfully fairly linear until they arrived at a wall of stone brick, and an iron door with a singular torch lit with an unusual purple flame.

The enderman opened the door then simply teleported to the other side. Considering that teleporting had been what knocked Steve out, he settled for squeezing the two of them pass the door and into the room beyond. It was nothing special, just an empty room of more stone bricks, but Blake knew they were in a stronghold now. He didn’t know much about the End nor how to get there, only that strongholds had something to do with it.

The enderman lead him through the winding and disorientating hallways of the stronghold until they reached a set of stairs leading down. At the bottom was a brightly lit room, more torches with purple fire and two lava pits on either side of the entrance. Directly in front of him was another, much smaller set of stairs that seemingly lead to nothing. The enderman was already standing at the top, gesturing down at something.

With a small amount of trepidation, Blake climbed the stairs and stopped at the top, staring in awe at the portal that came into view below him. Otherworldly but beautiful, it was like staring into space. Twelve shining eyes of ender outlining a serene and mysterious portal to The End.

Without a word, the enderman stepped off the ledge and dropped into the portal, no sound or visual to accompany it. One second it was here, the next gone, just like that. Blake felt less confident, and spent a few seconds psyching himself up before he instinctually held his breath and stepped forward, dropping down.

The transition was…weird. That was the only way he could explain it. But infinitely better than traveling to the Nether. The air was cool and scentless, and the only sounds were distant, hushed enderman warbles. He found himself on a small obsidian platform, surrounded on three sides by a strange light-yellowish stone. The only side that differed from the rest had a set of basic stone stairs leading up. He climbed them quickly, recognizing the sky above and the stone around him. He’d done it. They were in the End.

When he reached the top, Jean was right there to great him.

You couldn’t help yourself, could you? She said, tone chastising but in a motherly, affectionate way. Blake felt slight embarrassment worm its way to his cheeks. Luckily, he didn’t think his skin’s pallor lent itself particularly well to blushing.

“What was I gonna do, ignore the pull damn near yanking me off my feet? Hell no. Plus, if your endermen had somehow screwed up, I don’t doubt for a second that Herobrine wouldn’t blame me. Do you know what that guy’s capable of?”

Jean’s mouth opened in what Blake hoped was a facsimile of a smile.

Thank you. Your assistance was greatly appreciated, and I’m sure Steve was happy to see a friendly face, hm? But come, put him here. I want to know the state of him.

“Gods awful,” Blake answered, walking over to where Jean directed. It was at the base of a small bedrock structure, a ring with a pillar in the middle. Atop the pillar was a large, floating black egg, and filling in the ring was what appeared to be another portal, exactly like the portal to get here in appearance. Items that seemed extremely out of place were strewn haphazardly about a large blanket that’d been placed on the ground. He wondered if, like the Nether, beds would spontaneously explode in this strange dimension.

On one side of the blanket was Herobrine’s unfortunately still unconscious body. Blake knelt on the other side of the blanket and placed Steve’s body down carefully, then stood up and stepped out of the way of the endermen that began tending to his wounds. Potions were forced down his throat, splashed onto his body. One of the enderman had a container filled with a black lotion-like substance which was applied to Steve’s arms. The tingling of his own arms started to subside.

When clothes started to be removed, Blake took that as his cue to turn away and walk over to Jean’s head, sighing heavily. The great Dragon was curled around the portal, watching the endermen work with rapt attention. She was probably communicating with them.

Are you well? She suddenly said, startling him a bit. He glanced over and saw her eye watching him. He shrugged and sat down, half-listening to the activity behind him. It was a relief to be off his feet and finally able to relax.

“Yep. Just peachy. Only injuries I gotta worry about are from Steve and they already healed.”

I’m happy to hear that, Jean commented, and Blake believed she actually was. It was strange having someone care about his wellbeing.

“Any idea what’s wrong with Herobrine?” He asked, idly trying to pass some time. Jean shifted a bit, though Blake didn’t know what to make of it.

He stretched the limits of his powers too far and the backlash rendered him unconscious. That is my leading theory. I sense no interference nor influence from Simmons, leading me to believe that his body is forcing him to recover in the only way it knows how.

Blake made a sound of acknowledgement. Several minutes passed where he contemplated what to say or ask before settling on pointing out the obvious.

“Kinda sucks that they’re both unconscious for their reunion.”

Jean gave a soft sound of amusement.

Indeed.

Chapter Text

Blake had taken the liberty to recline against Jean’s scaly hide, seeing as she’d been perfecting her impression of a statue as she watched the endermen do their thing.

Legs crossed, arms behind his head, eyes closed, Blake was the picture of relaxation…if he could only sleep. But despite the bone-deep exhaustion he could feel weighing down his limbs, sleep would not come. He wasn’t sure if he even had the capability for it anymore, which was just fucking great. If this was a ‘perk’ to having some of the Wither’s powers, no thanks. On some level he’d been aware that the others had rarely, if ever, slept, but he hadn’t known it was because they simply couldn’t. What a shitty trade off.

So he was the picture of relaxation but inside he was boiling with an annoyed misery, brooding over that fact that he couldn’t sleep. And it was while he was doing this that Jean finally moved after what felt like hours but was probably only like thirty minutes.

The endermen are finished. Steve’s injuries will only heal from here on out. Her massive body lifted, causing Blake to fall on his back. He sighed, still partially annoyed about the whole sleep thing.

“Great,” Blake said deadpan, not bothering to get up. “Now what.“

Now, Jean answered with amusement in her voice, head swinging around to stare down at him. We will leave this place.

That, at least, was random enough that he sat up and looked at her weirdly.

“What? To the Overworld? Why?”

No, not to the Overworld. Come, you will see.

And then she lowered her body and tilted towards him, wings moving aside in such a way that Blake believed she was offering him a ride on her back, but he felt weird accepting.

“You want me to…?” He merely pointed, trailing off. She nodded.

Yes. I will fly us to another island. There, more habitable spaces and provisions are waiting.

Blake made a face but accepted on her insistence, walking forward and sliding onto the seat between the column of her neck and her wings, right in between two of the spikes trailing down her spine. The spike in front of him offered something to hold onto.

She stood and he was able to get a feel for what to expect as she collected Steve and Herobrine, holding them in each paw, close to her chest. Then, with powerful beats of her wings, they were air born.

Even though Blake could now teleport around, and had done so many times in the recent past, internally his inner child was in awe over this. He was riding a dragon. Holy shit this was awesome.

Unfortunately it wasn’t for long. Enough to watch the previous island fade from view, but not long enough for Blake to get his fill. Another island came into view after about ten minutes, this one much different, namely because of the giant purple castle-like structure dominating a majority of the land. It was the strangest building he’d ever seen, and also the most vertical. What looked to be floating ships were tethered to the tips of the castle’s towers. It was as if whoever built this place could fly or something. Jean landed right at the base of the castle, gently so as to not disturb her charges more than necessary. Two endermen appeared in front of her to take the boys before teleporting away, presumably into the castle. Jean lowered her body so Blake could slide off.

“What the hell is this place?” He asked, neck craning and still unable to see the top.

An ancient city, long since forgotten by the Overworld. Humans used to live here. It was a joyous time that I remember fondly.

Blake didn’t want to imagine what living here would be like, unless maybe The End used to look different. Add some grass and trees, maybe it could be okay, who knew.

“What happened?”

The nature of this dimension is not suitable for permanent human inhabitation. But that was a long time ago. There are more important matters at hand.

Just as she paused, an enderman appeared beside him.

I will have my enderman show you around. Do not fear the beds you see, as this ground has been enchanted to allow sleep, should you so desire it. There is food and water as well. I’ve had the endermen stock a room for you, so you need not go far. Though, you may explore if you wish to. Steve and Herobrine have been placed in their own room. I will return once they wake.

Blake had been nodding along absentmindedly until that last part, when he looked up at her sharply. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

Merely to the other island. I do not prefer to stay away from it for long. Then she made a motion that gave him the impression of a shrug. If you need me, tell one of my endermen and they will fetch me.

With a nod, she turned and took off, black hide instantly camouflaging her against the perpetually night sky. Blake watched her departure for a few seconds before looking to the enderman, who appeared to be eyeing him just as distastefully.

He put his hands on his hips.

“Welp, lead the way slim. Let’s see what this place is all about.”

The mob grumbled something unintelligible before turning and walking towards the entrance to the castle. Blake smirked and followed behind.

Waking felt like trying to swim through slime. His brain was sluggish, resisting the return to consciousness, his body even more so. The more he woke, the more he felt like every inch of him had been struck with a hammer many times over. Even just twitching his fingers sent aches up his arm. And opening his eyes felt impossible. They weighed, like something was pressing down on them. Hay had been stuffed inside his head. It was hard to make sense of his surroundings, even as his body adjusted and his brain awoke enough to register sensory input. Peaceful breathing. It was chilly. A plush bed beneath him. The combined sensations confused him.

A deep ache had taken root at his core. It was like his soul was bruised. The thought of moving was unpleasant. But as his brain kickstarted into gear, a worrying sense of dread and longing welled up inside him. He needed…

With some effort, Herobrine opened his eyes.

For several minutes he stared up at the ceiling in pure confusion, not sure if he was truly awake or not. Above him, the light purple material seemed extremely out of place. Coupled with the bed he was laying on, he was wholly confused as to where he was. Without moving his head, his limited range of vision was able to see more of that purple material making up the walls of the room. Where the hell was he? And how’d he get there? Had Blake taken them somewhere?

It hit him suddenly that he’d passed out, leaving Blake to fend for himself. For himself and Herobrine’s body. Fear gripped his heart. If Blake was alone, stuck protecting his body, what if those Withered sought them out? What if the Wither itself came to kill them? He couldn’t let anything happen to Steve, he needed to find Blake, he needed—

Moving hurt, like stretching muscles pass their limits, but he forced himself up, off the bed, only to stumble and catch himself on the nearby side table. His eyes struggled to stay open and he grit his teeth, angered at his body’s weakness. He didn’t have time, he had to find Blake, figure out where they were, what was happening.

The room was mostly empty. A door beside the table keeping him up, another small table opposite the door. The bed behind him. And as he looked around, heart racing, that sound from before reached his ears. Breathing that wasn’t his own.

He turned around, and his breath hitched.

There, lying injured and unconscious but undeniably alive was Steve.

The shock was overpowered by pure, desperate relief. His body felt cold, frozen in fear that this was a dream. But as time ticked by, inaction became action as his body jolted forward as if with a mind of its own. His mind was blank, transfixed on Steve’s unconscious body and unable to process much else. With weak limbs he stumbled his way to Steve’s side, the struggle barely registering to his preoccupied mind.

The evidence of injury was obvious, and even though he could see potions at work, the severity of each wound lessening by the moment, it still drove that stake of regret and shame deeper into his heart. Gods he felt like a fool. Like the most useless idiot to ever walk the Overworld. He knew the tricks of their adversaries and still, he’d let them make him believe—

He closed his eyes and took a few stuttering breaths, unable to banish the image of Steve’s throat being slit from his mind. And he had stood there and done nothing. His mind tried telling him that it hadn’t been real, but it had felt real. In his heart, the pain had been real—was still real.

Seized with a sudden urge to confirm Steve was alive despite the outward signs, Herobrine leaned down and at the same time wound his arms beneath Steve’s body to lift his chest to his ear. The steady, strong heartbeat pulsed through his head.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

He lowered Steve back onto the bed, following the motion to press his face against Steve’s chest, gritting his teeth as his nose and eyes burned with emotion. He kept his arms tight around his lover, savoring each breath, each beat of his heart, each twitch in his sleep.

He stood there for a long time, slumped over the bed, clutching Steve tightly. Slow, even breaths worked to control the surge of emotion threatening to break its way out. Between being forced to tolerate Blake, learning about Alex, watching Steve—being shown Steve’s death, his mind and heart felt beaten down and stretched to their limits. When would his suffering end?

He thought Steve would be the answer. A source of warmth to light the darkness that was his existence. But nothing had gone right for them. There were moments, wherein Herobrine felt like he was on top of the world, he was so happy. But reality was starting to rear its ugly head. Would they have that happy ending? It seemed more and more unlikely. Ever since they’d met, it been nothing but incident after incident after incident. Was everything worth it? He didn’t want anything to happen to Steve because of him. It would kill him inside.

His breathing picked up as he felt the inevitable breakdown. He was pressing his face hard into Steve’s chest, hiding his shame from the room, from himself. He refused to let go, and at the same time wanted to leave and spare them both further pain. Being absolved of his sins seemed like too great an ask, but Steve made it feel possible.

A gentle touch to his hair made him suck in a breath and he looked up. Steve was awake and smiling sadly at him, tears in his eyes.

“Herobrine,” he said softly, and that was it.

Something inside him came loose, unraveled and with it, the onslaught of tears was unstoppable. The Wither’s influence made him feel disgusted with himself, with this weakness, but that small part—that human part of him, that Steve cherished and nurtured into something to be proud of—shushed the rage and hate, tucked it neatly into bed and put it to sleep, so that the raw relief and happiness could burst forth, waterfall of emotion cleansing his soul.

He was refined as he clutched Steve close, wetted his shirt with tears, breaths stuttering as he still fought to control the sobbing. But it was a losing battle. His shoulders shook and his hands fisted in the back of Steve’s shirt, white-knuckled grip that ached. He pulled them as physically close as possible, wishing he could disappear into Steve’s body, give up his mortal form and bask in the light that defied the odds and flourished inside his lover.

He had to settled for the gentle hands running through his hair, the soft words of comfort, the love he could feel emanating from Steve’s body as he returned the hug, clutching just as tightly.

“I-I was so…scared. That—That I’d nev-ver see you a-again,” he cried into the shirt, words barely audible to his own ears between the muffling and the sobbing. It was hard to admit that, to be so candid, but he thought that Steve deserved to see this part of him—deserved the chance to comfort him as much as he’d done for his lover in the past. Because Steve had been right, when he’d said that Herobrine had tried to reject his humanity, but it was that very aspect of him that gave him a sound enough mind to have befriended Steve in the first place. Perhaps it was time he listened to that side of him more. Not like the Wither’s influence had turned out to help him all that much anyway, when things got bad. The Wither had encouraged negativity and denounced working through his trauma—of being cast to the Nether, of living with a powerful, destructive God in control of his conscious. Steve encouraged him to speak out and break the chains that held him down, made it easy for the Wither to get inside his mind and make him doubt himself. Steve didn’t make him doubt himself. Steve understood him and accepted him and wanted to help him. The absolute least he could do was open up every now and again, though he wasn’t really in control at the moment. His emotions had overridden rational thought.

“Shh, shhh, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” Steve assured him, voice thick like Herobrine’s. His grip on Herobrine tightened briefly before he let go and urged him to back up. He was extremely reluctant, but did so just enough to allow Steve to do what he wanted, which was shimmy down the bed until they were face to face. Steve’s sad smile and tear filled eyes twisted that knife in his heart deeper.

“I missed you so much,” Steve whispered, hands reaching up to take his face, cradling his cheeks and running thumbs across the tracks of wetness under his eyes. He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes, breathing deeply. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I don’t know what I’d do—“ His voice failed him, trailing off when the emotion became too much. The tears that’d been building in his eyes finally spilled over, trailing slowly over his nose and down his temple. Herobrine reached up and wiped them away, settled his hand on the side of Steve’s jaw, where it met his neck, and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Steve made a desperate sound in the back of his throat and used his soft grip on Herobrine’s face to pull him in closer, sighing into the kiss and allowing Herobrine to slip his tongue passed his lips. The next sound he made, a long, drawn out moan of approval, of want and need, stirred a low heat in the pit of Herobrine’s stomach. This was an area he was all too familiar with, and his body was quick and eager to respond, desperate to get away from the pain of regret and relief battling inside his heart.

The hand he had on Steve’s jaw slid down, trailing across his arm and side to wrap around his hip. At the same time, he slotted his leg neatly between Steve’s and used his grip to pull Steve’s lower half closer to him. The gentle sound of building arousal Steve made had his pants tightening, cock filling out in record time. Steve had that easy effect on him, an almost unnatural ability to turn him on without even trying. Added to that the fact that it’d been a few days since they’d had the capability to even think about having sex again, well, Herobrine was all too ready to let mind numbing pleasure white-out his brain for a few precious minutes.

Unfortunately, the injuries could not so easily be forgotten, and he decided to keep their arousal on the lighter side. At least until Steve recovered more, and Herobrine wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d personally seen the human chug so many potions he got sick of the taste.

He spared a moment to hurriedly wipe the itchy trail of dried tears away before lowering his hand to cup the front of Steve’s pants, which clearly looked borrowed and were practically paper thin, allowing him to easily feel Steve’s answering excitement to their teenaged rutting. At contact, even through the material, Steve groaned and rocked into him, hands dropping from his face to his shoulders and fisting the shirt there.

“Please, please” Steve whispered, breathless. Herobrine was weak but to answer such an alluring plea.

With some careful shifting to keep in mind Steve’s comfort, he had his thigh pressed right up against Steve’s dick and a hand on his ass, pulling him in close and savoring each moan and whimper of pleasure. Steve’s hands had a death grip on each of his shoulders and his face was hidden just under Herobrine’s jaw, hot breath washing over his neck and sending shivers through him. He was quickly getting too keyed up—the arousal was starting to hurt, still trapped in his pants as he was.

The scant seconds between letting go of Steve and undoing his jeans was made all the harder as Steve’s whines and pants for more tempted him greatly, tried his patience and almost won. He managed not to rip Steve’s flimsy pants as he yanked them down so he could hold them together. The relief of being free from his jeans was immediately overshadowed by the pleasure of intimate contact. He moaned out a curse, shakily beginning to stroke both of them. His other hand, which was still gripping a handful of cheek, let go and lifted to the back of his lover’s neck, using the purchase to pull him away so he could rake his eyes greedily across Steve’s pleasure flushed cheeks and open, panting mouth.

“Feels—a-ah, sssso good,” Steve moaned. One of his hands flew down to grip Herobrine’s forearm tightly as his body jolted, and a loud gasp escaped him. “Mmmm ah! O-oh, fuck.” Herobrine felt the same. It was too much too soon. Their emotional reunion only served to enhance the pleasure, flinging them over the edge much sooner than usual. Steve came first, clinging to him tightly, leg hiking up over his hip to keep them close as he cried out. Herobrine kept the quick, short strokes going to get himself there too, stuttering out a gasp as he finished.

The frenzy of lust over, Herobrine slumped to the side and breathed heavily, listening to Steve do the same. He felt when Steve leaned forward, was prepared to accept the kiss pressed to his lips. His one hand felt wet with cum, so he used his other one to cup along Steve’s neck, desperate to feel the pulse of life there. Herobrine was much too drained after that, even though physically he could go on for more, mentally and emotionally he was out of it.

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” Steve whispered into the kiss, and Herobrine felt the genuine meaning in every pulse of Steve’s heartbeat he could feel. His eyes stung again.

“I love you,” he responded, pulling back and looking clearly into Steve’s eyes, met in equal by that dazzling violet.

“I love you too.”

For Steve, time had lost all meaning.

From the moment he’d woken up, disturbed by a rhythmic pressure rubbing into his chest, to right now, resting in bed next to his lover, it was as if hours or seconds could have passed. It didn’t matter either way, not to him. As long as he and Herobrine were together, entire days of cuddling and less innocent activities could come and go and he wouldn’t care.

Unfortunately, the bliss bled from his veins, quieted his heart and allowed a cold and quickly drying, uncomfortable reality to descend upon him.

He groaned in dismay and a childish want to stay in bed forever, but there were definitely more pressing manners. Herobrine resisted when he tried to pull back, just for a moment, before he relented and let Steve go.

Steve smiled in sympathy at the redness under Herobrine’s eyes, and the remnants of tears on his cheeks. Despite the discomfort of the aftermath of their sudden time together, he waited just a moment before saying anything. Herobrine’s wellbeing was more important.

“Are you okay?” He asked, keeping his voice light. Herobrine took a deep breath before smiling at him.

“Yes. I am, now that you’re here.”

Steve felt much the same. Having Herobrine here, back with him where he belonged.

“I really want to ask what happened, but I think there’s some things we should deal with first,” he started. Herobrine lifted his brows in question and Steve looked down pointedly with a patient smile.

“What—oh. Right.” Herobrine lifted his hand with a grimace. Steve wondered how he could have even forgotten.

Nearly at the same time, they looked around. For the first time, Steve realized that the room they had to themselves looked…nothing like the Overworld. Where the hell even were they?

“Uh, where are we?” He asked.

Herobrine was frowning when he responded. “We’re in The End.”

Oh, well, that was good, wasn’t it? “We are? Uh…how did we get here?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that if we’re here, then we’re safe. I can feel Jean, and there are endermen roaming nearby. As well as Blake.”

A chill swept up his spine at the mention of Blake, but it wasn’t as bad as it usually was. He vaguely remembered seeing Blake’s face in the Nether. “I see. Aaaaand do you think there’s a bathroom with a sink anywhere around here?”

Herobrine looked at him with a smile. “I’d go look for one, but not gonna lie, I don’t want to leave you alone right now.”

Steve didn’t say anything to that, since he felt the same. Herobrine wasn’t allowed to leave his sight either. “So then what are we going to do about this?” He gestured to the mess of cum on Herobrine’s hand and what he could see of it on their shirts and pants.

Herobrine pursed his lips in thought before holding out his hand. “Wanna lick it up?”

“Ew no! Get that away from me!” He laughed, pushing Herobrine away as the man waved his hand in front of his face. Steve made to get up when his body quickly reminded him that he was, in fact, still injured. It all came rushing back when his foot twinged painfully, making him gasp in pain. It wasn’t as bad as he remembered, but he still froze and made an aborted move to grab his leg, hissing. Instantly, Herobrine was on his knees beside him, hands hovering and expression severe with worry.

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“My—augh, leg. Well, my foot. I’m pretty sure it was broken but now it just hurts. More like a sprain.” He made a face at his foot while he spoke. At least he could move it, even if just a little. Massive improvement from before.

A flash of Buddy’s screaming face and the piglin with the axe coming towards him shot through his mind and he flinched, swallowing heavily. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up, already internally cringing at the look on Herobrine’s face. They really needed to talk.

Without a word, Herobrine took his shirt off so fast and so aggressively that Steve was surprised it didn’t rip. He used it as a rag, cleaning off his hand. At this moment, Steve realized that his dick was still out and pulled up his pants, adjusting the flimsy material. It made him wonder where his clothes had gone, and how long had passed since they got here.

When Herobrien’s hand was cleaned off as much as it would be, he reached for Steve and pushed on his chest until he laid down fully. He allowed it, settling without much fuss. Now that he was thinking about it, his body as a whole felt much better. It was only his foot that bothered him. His headache was gone, his throat was soothed, his side was healed, his wrists didn’t hurt, and the wither was gone from his hands. If his foot had been healed as well, he might have thought he dreamt the whole thing. It certainly felt like a nightmare.

He laid there patiently, half staring at the ceiling, half watching Herobrine inspect him. Fingers would press into random spots, checking for injury or pain. Every so often Herobrine would make a questioning sound and Steve would shake his head. It was only when Herobrine got to his foot that he showed more of a reaction. Pressure around his shin sent aching pain through his leg, and he gasped, stopping Herobrine in his tracks.

“It does look sprained,” Herobrine concluded, slumping in place on the bed and rubbing at his forehead. He looked stressed and tired, in this moment. Steve’s heart went out for him.

“It doesn’t feel that bad, if I don’t move it,” he offered. The smallest of consolations. Herobrine still didn’t look too happy about it.

When Herobrine looked at him, so painfully emphatic, Steve sucked in a quiet breath, heart skipping a beat. Without a word, he opened his arms and Herobrine all but fell into him. He dared to think his grip was tighter than Herobrine’s.

“Tell me everything,” Herobrine said, and Steve did.

After they swapped stories, the two were left in silence. Steve was still on his back, staring up at the ceiling and running nails absentmindedly over Herobrine’s exposed back, dried tears making his eyes heavily with exhaustion. Talking about what’d happened to Buddy had hurt, the pain of loss still so strong. Herobrine had both arms wrapped around him and was smushing his face into Steve’s stomach, taking deep, even breaths. His temper had flared a bit, but he’d reigned it in, which was impressive, especially after what Steve had heard. But he was proud of his lover. So proud. Herobrine had finally realized what Steve had known all along—that rage did not control him, and that he was deserving of love and happiness, which Steve was one hundred percent willing to give. After that, they hadn’t moved in some time.

It was the second growling of Steve’s stomach that finally pushed Herobrine into action. Obviously reluctant, he opened his mouth to say something right as there was a knock on the door. Herobrine didn’t look surprised, but Steve was surprised he didn’t see irritation flare across his boyfriend’s face. In fact, he looked like he’d been expecting it, and his unasked question was answered when Herobrine got up and said, “It’s Blake.”

Steve sat up and just nodded, swallowing his nerves. His heart started racing and he felt anxious, but he pushed it away from his mind, trying to think on the positive side. He was pretty sure Blake had helped rescue him from the Nether. Whatever bond was between them now, it was either changing Blake’s intentions towards him or at the very least, preventing him from acting on them since he’d die as well. So his brain was a little confused on what to feel—anxiety and fear, or tentative allegiance and gratitude?

Herobrine, it seemed, had settled on the latter.

He opened the door and stepped to the side. “Blake.”

Blake gave him a look before entering, nodding at Steve as he stood just inside the room. Herobrine left the door open and moved back over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. With some careful shuffling, Steve swung his legs over the edge and sat next to him.

“What happened after I passed out?” Herobrine asked, getting straight to the point. Blake snorted and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall beside the doorway.

“Not even a hello first? I’m hurt.”

“We’re just…anxious, you could say,” Steve admitted, twining his fingers together in his lap nervously. He couldn’t bring himself to look Blake in the eye, only glance up every minute or so.

Blake sighed. “Well, can’t say I blame you. You two had a hell of a time, that’s for sure. Truth be told, not much happened,” he started, shrugging. “Jean told me Herobrine and I needed to come to The End, an enderman showed me the way to a nether portal. Once inside I felt a pull and passed Herobrine to the enderman before following it to you. There were a ton of enderman assaulting the bastion trying to rescue you so I stepped in to help. Wasn’t really thinking about it but it worked out I guess.” Blake looked away, as if embarrassed. “Then I got another one of the enderman in the Nether to show me the way here. Jean greeted me and had her mobs patch Steve up. Then she took us here. I’m supposed to let her know that you’re awake now.”

“Did she say anything to you? About a plan?” Herobrine asked. Blake shook his head.

“Nope. I kinda got the feeling she was waiting for you two.”

Herobrine nodded, and Steve spoke up, managing to force himself to look Blake in the eye.

“Thank you, really. You helped us out a lot.”

Blake waved a hand dismissively. “Ah, it was no big deal. Plus I was getting tired of your injuries hitting me randomly so, it was just as much for my sake.”

The obvious deflection made Steve smile a bit. Blake was surprisingly just like someone else he knew who liked to deflect attention when it came to compliments or concerns. He looked at Herobrine, reaching over to cover one of his hands, squeezing briefly and smiling when his boyfriend looked at him.

It settled Herobrine’s nerves slightly, but that was enough for Steve.

Though, predictably, Herobrine changed the subject.

“Is there food here? Amenities?”

“Uh, yeah. The endermen can show you around. Apparently this place was once used by humans like a bajillion years ago or something.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t honestly see how but there are beds and food and other useful shit so, I guess that must be true.”

Steve didn’t know how, but an enderman appeared right as Blake stopped speaking. Blake looked at it before pushing off the wall and clapping his hands together.

“Guess I’ll let Jean know you’re back. Er…maybe in like ten minutes, yeah?”

“Do it whenever. I’m sure we’ll be having a long conversation about where to go from here, so better that she knows we’re awake sooner rather than later.”

Blake nodded. “Alright, see ya in a bit.” He teleported away, leaving just them and the enderman.

“Bring us food and water, or whatever liquid is consumable and safe for humans. And a lot of potions, healing or regeneration, whatever, it doesn’t matter,” Herobrine instructed. The tall mob gave no indication of acknowledgement before disappearing. When it was gone, Herobrine leaned forward and supported his head in his hands, groaning in frustration. Steve rubbed his back gently.

“Come on, let’s wait for the enderman to get back,” Steve urged, pulling a not-really-resisting-at-all Herobrine onto the bed properly. As good as he felt minus his foot, he felt like he hadn’t slept properly in days and his body greatly appreciated the rest. He settled comfortably against the bed—a real bed! Imagine that—and pulled Herobrine next to him. Without a shirt on, the heat from Herobrine’s skin was extra apparent, radiating out from him like waves from the sun. But The End was on the slightly cooler side, as far as otherworldly dimensions went, so he didn’t mind the heat.

It wasn’t long they had to wait, as the enderman reappeared after maybe five minutes. Just enough time for Steve to have closed his eyes and his body decided sleep would be good but not long enough to actually feel satisfied with the break. The telltale sound of an enderman teleporting had his eyes opening, but when he looked over, the supplies were sitting on a small table opposite the door, with no enderman in sight. From where he was, and the angle he had, he could make out several bottles, but there were several purple…fruits (?) he didn’t recognize, as well as a bundle of something wrapped in cloth. Maybe Herobrine would know.

He tapped on Herobrine’s shoulder blade, about to say food was here, but switched to something Herobrine would care a little more about at the last moment. “Potions are here.”

With a groan, Herobrine heaved himself up, yawning as he scooted off the bed. Steve raised a brow.

“Tired?” He knew Herobrine wasn’t one for sleep.

“I guess. My body just feels…I don’t know, drained.” He paused to stare at his hand, then clenched it into a fist before picking up the supplies. He looked at the fruit oddly. Welp, there went Steve’s hope Herobrine might have known what they were.

“I assume this is edible,” Herobrine said, setting the fruits and wrapped bundle on the bed. The potion bottles were a mix of regular and splash. Two of them looked to be water. Steve went for the bundle while Herobrine uncapped a splash potion of healing and dripped it carefully onto his ankle and foot. Steve was happy to see bread and Overworld fruit revealed to him, though, despite their oddness, the purple fruits did look appetizing. Maybe he’d try them last.

He munched slowly, trying to avoid overtaxing his empty stomach. Gods he didn’t even remember when he’d eaten last, though it couldn’t have been that long ago. His stomach had simply given up trying to remind him he was hungry, so eating was a strange affair. The water was much appreciated. It was slightly stale, but to him it was truly a Godsend, as if gathered from the freshest of springs. It took everything in him not to drain the entire bottle.

When he put it down, Herobrine thrusted a potion bottle of regeneration in his face. “Drink this.”

Steve took it without complaint, even though he didn’t feel like he really needed it. But he understood that his boyfriend was worried and so drank the entire potion like a good boy, so as to not worry Herobrine further. At the very least, the potion would help his foot, so win-win.

He felt infinitely better, now that he had food in his belly. And when Herobrine was satisfied with the state of his foot’s healing, he settled on the bed beside him and picked up one of the purple fruits.

“Did you try this yet?”

Steve shook his head.

“Looks good though. The bundle had normal food so I ate that. I know Blake mentioned that people used to live here but I don’t know if I trust strange fruits from other dimensions just yet.”

Herobrine made a sound of consideration, then slowly raised the fruit to his mouth and took a bite. His face brightened and he looked at the fruit impressed.

“Good?” Steve asked, and Herobrine nodded.

“Very. Here.”

Herobrine passed it over and Steve took it, biting into it without thinking twice. His face too reflected the pleasant surprise he felt. It was like nothing he’d tried before. Softer than an apple with slightly more juice and much sweeter too.

“Wow. I’m shocked.” He handed it back, licking his lips of the sweet juice. Looked like they were set with food—

All of a sudden, Herobrine was gone from the bed, instead sitting on the other side of the room, still holding the fruit he’d just taken a bite of. Steve sat up a little, startled by the abrupt teleport.

“What happened?” He asked, curious about the bewilderment on Herobrine’s face. He was unsure about what’d happened, getting up and walking over to the bed while giving the fruit a strange look.

“I don’t…know. I think—I mean, it sounds insane, but I think the fruit did it.”

Steve blinked. He was right, that did sound insane. “What? The fruit teleported you? Come on.”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t do that. And would it really be that much of a stretch to think a fruit from The End can teleport someone around? Look at its residents,” Herobrine pointed out.

Steve opened his mouth to argue but thought about it. Herobine did make a good point.

“It does kinda make sense,” he admitted. Herobrine put the fruit down with a nod.

“I think we’ll have to avoid this one.”

Steve pouted.

“But it’s so good!”

“How about one last taste?”

Steve nodded eagerly, holding out his hand, but Herobrine didn’t give him the fruit. Instead, he reached out and laced their fingers together, used the grip to pull Steve a little towards him as he bent down, using his other hand to cup the back of his neck as he drew them into a kiss. Herobrine wasted no time in opening Steve’s mouth with his tongue, spreading that sweet taste from the fruit between them. Steve made a surprised but pleased sound in the back of his throat, raising his other hand to settle on Herobrine’s chest. Even with just a kiss like this, he could feel the smallest licks of arousal. He definitely wouldn’t be opposed to a little more intimate activities…

Unfortunately, Herobrine pulled back, licking his lips with a smug grin at Steve’s red stained cheeks.

“Good?”

“Mmmmm it could be better,” he teased, but Herobrine didn’t take the bait, though he looked like he wanted to.

“As tempting as that is, Jean’s on her way.”

Steve sighed dramatically as he fell back onto the bed. Herobrine chuckled.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll have more alone time soon.”

Steve looked at Herobrine as he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over him, hands coming up to bracket his head. Steve smiled up at him.

“Yeah? And then what?” He pretended to keep his voice innocently naive. Something wicked pass over Herobrine’s face, promising all manner of naughty things that made a shudder run down his spine.

“I’ll be happy to show you,” he said lowly. Then the act dropped as he stood up, leaving Steve feeling cold without his body heat so close. “But first we have to talk with Jean, she’ll be here any second.”

Steve only pouted a little bit. “Alright, I guess that’s okay. Let’s go.”

Juneau had sworn his loyalty, would not even think of betraying his God, but he knew the Wither was a fickle creature and did not see him as he saw himself—as a willing servant that did as told and was happy to. He knew that the Wither saw him as a worm, a creature so far below it that any attention it deigned to show him was a miracle at best. And Juneau was okay with his, accepted the quirks of the God. Who was he to question something so ancient and powerful?

But right now, in this moment, staring at two Withers and the enderman-esque creature that had arrived with the second of his God, he felt a tension in the air. An unspoken secret plan he was the only one not privy too. It set his teeth on edge and made his hair stand on end. It made sweat cling to his temple and drip down his neck.

The second Wither had arrived through the portal, floating through with a grace only a being such as itself could muster. Beside the portal, that strange mob had appeared, formidable and angry, screaming at him without attacking. He could feel the enderman in it, but it’s emancipated, skeletal features and glowing white eyes clued him in. Taking an enderman was a weird choice but he was not to judge.

He had knelt once the second Wither arrived and had remained there since, waiting to be called upon. Whether to begin the Overworld’s revolution or be cast away, he waited.

He did not have to wait long.

Juneau, come here.

His Wither spoke the words warmly. He thought he sensed pride in its voice but did not get his hopes up, though he couldn’t help the confidence with which he walked over to the two Gods. The second Wither was just as emotionless as his own, but somehow seemed colder. Physically they looked the same, though the foreign God was perhaps slightly paler in color. Being trapped in the Nether for 200 years must have altered its appearance, minimal as it was.

You have done well Juneau. A loyal and faithful champion I could not have picked better myself.

Juneau smiled, bowing. “It is my unending pleasure to serve you in whatever ways you see fit. I live to transform the Overworld in your image.”

As he spoke, it did not escape him that the second Wither positioned itself behind him. There was maybe a two foot gap between him and his Wither in front of him, and him and the Wither behind him. It unnerved him somewhat, but he put on a brave face. His Wither would not let their newcomer hurt him, surely.

I am glad to hear that. I have but one request, now that you have succeeded in opening the portal.

“Anything.”

His Wither’s eyes brightened noticeably, and even the inside of its mouth glowed with white light. Glancing behind him, the second Wither seemed to be doing the same. He looked back at his own Wither, dread curling down his spine.

Don’t resist.

All six heads pointed at him, and beams of light shot out, blinding. He screamed in agony before he knew no more.

To the side, Buddy covered its eyes from the blinding light, no love lost for the human-turned. It had not even been important enough to know what was about to happen. Buddy knew. Its Wither had shown him, brief visions of a terrifying and powerful beast. Buddy had accepted these images without complaint, for they did not scare nor make it question its God. What was going to happen, would, whether it wanted or not. But it had no opinion. Only obedience.

When the light cleared, the very creature from its visions stood proudly in the place of where the two Withers and that human-turned had been. It was tall, as tall as three enderman, with three heads, each sporting two faces. The middle head had developed a third eye, slit vertically on its forehead. Its limbs were stretched and disproportionate, much like an enderman. And the sheer power radiating from it cowed the mob immediately, made it kneel in deference.

With a deafening roar, the Wither walked the Overworld as a new God.

Chapter Text

Adelaide was sitting on the steps of Alex and Mirai’s house when she felt it.

It started as a subtle thing, deep at her core—something sinisiter and foreign, but familiar at the same time. Powerful. The Wither but…she wasn’t sure.

Whatever it was, its intentions were clear. She could feel the command slithering through her mind, much like when…Herobrine had bested them. So undeniable.

Come here.

But not as all-encompassing as Herobrine had been, surprisingly. Not as wrathful, so she was able to wait a moment, shaking, quiet anger fueling a brief window of control. She looked over her shoulder, at the open door leading into the house, and the single occupant inside.

Mirai had not stopped crying since Adelaide had come outside to give her a moment alone with Alex’s body. Pain and loss were clear in her wails, the cries echoing, bouncing around Adelaide’s mind, trapped and tormenting her. It had brought tears to her own eyes again, made her heart clench in sympathy. Because Mirai was her partner and Alex her friend, and Mirai was in pain and Alex was…dead.

She clenched her fists and grit her teeth. Anger was strong in her, and hatred color her vision red when she thought about Herobrine and what he’d done. She was so angry she shook with it. Was sick with it.

In front of her, Marque appeared.

“You felt that?” He asked. She only nodded, and he sighed. She knew he was not close with Mirai, but everyone knew Alex. She was hard not to like, and her loss was a physical thing, like a missing limb. So intrisinctly wrong it was hard for her to come to grips with it still. She fully expected Alex to come find her and make a new plan, tell her they could handle anything, if they had each other. Her and Adelaide and Mirai and Jasmine, fuck, Jasmine. Another flayed wound on her heart, torn open and bleeding freely. She remembered Jasmine’s face in the woods the other day and Alex’s embarrassment about being caught with her pants down that same day. And now…they were gone, just like that.

And Herobrine would be the one to pay for it.

“It feels wrong…?” He continued, obviously trying to pull an opinion from her. She just made an aggressive sound and stood abruptly, fists balling at her sides.

“I don’t care what it is. If it helps me kill Herobrine, I’m going.”

She teleported without waiting for his response. Whether he joined her or not didn’t matter. There was only one thing on her mind and his willingness to help or not wouldn’t change that.

The malicious presence she could feel probing at her mind hit her full force when she appeared in the underground cavern. She thought it’d be hard—seeing the space Alex and Jasmine had died. But it only fueled that fire, the torch she carried for them both. Whatever was calling her here, it would help her or by the Gods she was going to tear her way through it to get to Herobrine.

But even in her anger, she wasn’t ready to see the towering beast occupying the space with her. In her stupor, she hardly noticed Marque appearing next to her.

The monster had three heads like a Wither, but each head had two faces, sharing a middle eye and with a mangled maw of sharp teeth serving as a mouth. The middle head had a third—er, fifth eye, on its forehead. Unlike a normal Wither, this beast had a body, something thin and lithe like an enderman. And much taller than one too, standing maybe thirty feet above them. Its hands ended in sharp, elongated claws and its ribs were almost completely defined, giving it an emancipated appearance. It was as if a Wither and its skeletons had formed into something out of a nightmare. And though she’d been lost in rage and the agony of loss, there had been something dinging her senses. The Wither’s power but mor, so similar as well. And, to make the situation even more suspect, Juneau was nowhere to be found. She would have bet money he’d be bowing at this thing’s feet, but her boss was strangely absent. The only other presence in the room besides her, Marque, and the beast, was…actually she didn’t know. It looked like an enderman, but felt much darker. Felt like them, a little bit, and its eyes were white, not purple. Had this thing—which was clearly connected to, if not was her Wither—converted an enderman? She hadn’t known that was possible.

Adelaide. Marque.

She furrowed her brows. It spoke with many voices, and she recognized her Wither’s and thought she recognized Juneau’s too. Wasn’t that a whole can of worms she didn’t want to even begin to address. Seemed at least that he got what he wanted, crazy fucker.

“What do you want? Who are you?”

The three heads slowly turned to look at her. And then—

The next thing she knew, she was gasping and blinking away tears of pain, body shaking like she’d been struck by lightning. A hollow coldness settled in her bones, locking her limbs as she struggled to get back up. When had she fallen to the ground?

Marque didn’t try to help her, which she both resented and understood. She’d have done the same. She had basically been slapped for talking back and Marque didn’t want that attention on him. With as much dignity as she could, she settled her breathing and forced her body up. The Wither turned its attention away from them.

Follow me.

As Adelaide regained the ability to breath and Marque nodded, the Wither summoned a smoky portal around itself as it teleported away. She could still feel its presence, wherever it was. Its darkness was that powerful. The taken enderman followed without acknowledging them.

Now that the wither was gone, Marque spared a moment for her.

“Are you—“

“I’m fine, let’s just get this over with,” she cut him off aggressively, wiping drool from her chin and shaking away the last vestiges of pain before teleporting.

She and Marque—and that creepy enderman—appeared on a small hill overlooking a village. Which, predictably, the sudden appearance of a thirty foot mob had everyone down there in a flurry of activity. The bell was ringing nonstop and from their vantage point they could see guards and villagers alike scrambling for weapons. They looked helpless and off guard.

The Wither paid little mind to the swords, axes, and picks being driven into its feet. Adelaide expected it to swipe its hand across the buildings, maybe start stomping around or slamming its hands down. But instead, after several moments where it just observed, it took a deep breath, ribs and chest expanding visibly.

Above them, storm clouds formed in the sky, and a brisk wind picked up. The temperature dropped. Something dark and oily brushed against her senses, a horror she was not meant to comprehend.

With a terrible high-pitched shriek that sent something primal through her, something ancient and evil that made her want to drop to her knees and beg for her life, the Wither’s three heads all turned together and a great plume of black fire erupted from its mouths. The inferno consumed village and villagers alike, sweeping through the streets and silencing the screams and cries to ‘get clear, run, help!’

Adelaide found it hard to care, though somewhere deep down she was horrified. She didn’t truly believe innocent people deserved such a pointless death. And it was far from what Juneau had told them would come of the Overworld, at the end of everything. Was this the future she’d fought and sacrificed for? That Alex and Jasmine had lost their lives for?

That empty void inside that cried for retribution over their deaths made it hard to fully care about the villagers. Their lives were not as important as the one’s she’d just lost. As the one Mirai had lost.

She clenched her fists, so hard it strained the muscles in her arms.

The Wither cut off the blast of fire, leaving the black flames to continue burning through buildings and bodies. 

Movement caught her eye and drew her attention to the skeletal bodies rising from the ashes. Blackened bones and glowing white eyes. Wither skeletons. Adelaide was impressed by the level of atrocity this thing was capable of. The wither skeletons marched to a clearing just outside the burnt remains of the village. They lined up like mindless puppets to some unheard command.

The Wither, seemingly satisfied with the results of the mass turning, then shifted its attention to the mobs that had come from their hiding places when the clouds had descended upon them. It outstretched one of its hands, a dark crackling energy emitting from it before a beam of that darkened energy shot out and landed amongst a pair of mobs. Adelaide watched with a sickened fascination as two different mobs began to contort and change before her eyes. A creeper and a spider screeched in pain as the Wither’s corruption spread throughout their bodies. The outcomes were equally as creepy and wrong as the enderman and the giant Wither itself.

The spider was much larger, bigger even than a ravager. Its limbs were thin and spiky, and its abdomen was much larger than the rest of it. All of its eyes were glowing white. Even from a distance, the hisses were more like snarls.

The creeper’s four stumpy legs mimicked the spider’s in a small way, becoming larger and more versatile for its long, dark green body. Instead of two glowing eyes, the creeper’s face had one large white eye in the middle above a mouth of sharp teeth that over-stretched to the sides of its head.

To her surprise, the two mobs teleported to join her, Marque, and the enderman. Up close, the two corrupted mobs were even more horrifying to behold. The creeper’s feet had developed claw like growths and the spider’s fangs were dripping a shiny purple liquid that sizzled when it hit the grass beneath it. She sneered at her new ‘siblings’ before the Wither demanded their attention in the most asshole-ish way possible, its booming voice cutting through her thoughts. She could sense the presence of the others in this collective state—the Wither must have been speaking to all of them.

Go, and cut down those who oppose us. Bring the Overworld to its knees before me!

The wither skeletons all held up their swords before dispersing. She could see them heading vaguely in the direction to where she knew another village to be. However, the three mobs did not move, and so neither did she nor Marque. And before long, the Wither turned to look at them. It’s dark oily presence made her grimace but she kept her complaint internal. At least, until its next command echoed through their heads.

Bring Herobrine and his pet to me. Alive.

The End was a strange place, Steve decided.

Standing at the base of the tall, narrow castle-like structure he’d awoken in, the atmosphere of The End was unlike anything he’d felt before. It was quiet for the most part, though he swore he could hear a low, ghostly moaning. It was absolutely ridiculous of course, but he couldn’t get the thought of ghosts out of his mind.

He knew it was his mind’s way of distracting him from their current situation. Not exactly successful, but as they waited for Jean to arrive, it was better than the alternative.

He glanced to the side. Herobrine was next to him, between him and Blake. After coming outside, Steve had sat on the ledge below a window and patted the space for Herobrine to join him, which he did. Then he’d crossed his arms and closed his eyes, leaning back in a seemingly relaxed manner. But Steve could see the way the muscles in his arms were tensed, as if expecting something to happen any second. Steve hoped that wasn't true—they'd been through enough, thank you. Well, of course he understood there was going to be more conflict in the—uncomfortably near—future, but for now, they deserved as much rest as the universe saw fit to give them.

After not long waiting in the somewhat uncomfortable silence, Jean’s massive body emerged from the darkness of the sky to land before them. Her intense purple eyes took the three of them in, and Steve shifted in place, a little nervous. Seeing Jean in that dream state had been one thing, but in real life, the dragon was much more intimidating. Luckily, her general aura and body language was kind and motherly. A gentler soul than her appearance let on.

I am pleased to see you both awake and well. How are you feeling? Her eyes flicked between him and Herobrine.

“I’m doing alright,” Steve answered first, shrugging a bit. “Still a little achey in places.” He tried not to think about it too much. He’d been badly injured and the phantom pain was still present. His memory of that traumatic time hung like a storm cloud in the back of his mind, and he didn’t even want to think about…Buddy. He swallowed, blood suddenly running cold, and his heart started racing. He clenched his fists on his thighs before Herobrine reached over and covered one of his fists, squeezing gently. Steve glanced at him to see a frown on his boyfriend’s face. He managed a thankful smile before returning his attention to Jean, trying to take deep breaths through the sudden panic coursing through him. He was safe, here and now. That was what mattered.

“I’m also doing good,” Herobrine answered. Jean nodded.

Given the situation, that’s all I can hope for. I know the last few days have been trying, for all of you. She walked up to them and laid down, bringing her head lower to their level. But I bring terrible news from the Overworld.

She continued when no one said anything. Steve had uncurled his fist and was gripping Herobrine’s hand tightly, anxiously anticipating Jean bringing up Buddy any moment.

The Wither from the Nether and the Wither from the Overworld have merged to become one, a horrifying beast that defies nature and the Gods just by existing. Even a dimension away, it’s dark influence can be felt. It slides like an intrusive parasite against my senses, and the sight of it invokes much the same feeling. My endermen have gotten glimpses but I’ve ordered them to remain out of sight of it. Now that we know it can corrupt other mobs as well as humans, I don’t want a repeat.

“Repeat of what?” Blake asked suddenly. On reflex, Steve tightened his grip on Herobrine’s hand. He felt sick.

Jean glanced at him, and her limited expression might have gone softer before she answered.

Simmons turned Buddy against us. It’s been corrupted, like you and Herobrine, but as its nature is to obey, the chances of Buddy breaking free of its own will are slim. But I intend to get Buddy back. I would never let one of my enderman suffer under Simmons’ cruelty.

Steve just took slow, even breaths so he didn’t freak out. The memories were stronger now—Buddy’s enraged face, the piglin, the pain. But he looked over at his boyfriend, soothed by Herobrine’s presence. Herobrine had told him that Withered who could change their perception was dead. There was no way this wasn’t real. And he and Herobrine were safe. Safe and together.

He glanced over at Blake. The man looked stricken, as if he couldn’t believe it. His dark skin looked a little paler. Steve felt bad for him, after everything. He didn’t know exactly what Blake and Buddy’s relationship was, but Buddy had reunited with them after traveling with Blake. Maybe they’d helped each other. Steve could see it—Buddy was very helpful.

“What? Buddy’s…” Blake trailed off, lost. He frowned sadly at the ground.

Yes, I’m sorry. I know Buddy meant a lot to you all. I swear, I don’t know how I’m going to reverse Simmons’ curse but I will never stop trying.

Steve could appreciate the conviction in her tone. He knew she’d try everything and then some to get their Buddy back.

“So what do we do?” Herobrine asked. Jean contemplated them.

I won’t lie. Defeating Simmons isn’t going to be easy. It’s…changed, now. I might have said there was a good chance before, even when there had been two separate Withers, but now…it’s going to be a challenge. It’s going to test each of you in ways you have not faced in life up to this point. And if you’re not ready…that monster will eat you alive. She paused for a moment. Perhaps literally.

“What can we do to prepare?” Herobrine asked. Steve was glad to see that Herobrine still had the wherewithal to converse. His own tongue felt heavy and words slipped through his mind like smoke.

For you, I can help you with controlling your powers better. Not letting them so easily overcome your rational mind. For Blake and Steve, I have armor and weapons and artifacts I can gift you. Tools to help you face the coming battle together, and confidently.

“I don’t like the idea of either of you fighting,” Herobrine said immediately, looking first at him and then at Blake. “For obvious reasons. But I’m sure the Wither won’t leave you out of this even if I surrendered and begged on my knees for it.” He sighed, squeezing Steve’s hand briefly, then looked up at Jean. “When do we start?”

Jean shifted, great body rising to a stand. Her magnificent wings stretched out before settling against her body.

Time moves strangely between dimensions. You all have enough time to visit the armory and weaponry. And…to spend time together. Then, Herobrine, come find me on the main island.

She nodded, and when neither of them said anything more, she turned and flew away.

The silence that was left in her wake was just as awkward as it’d been before. Herobrine didn’t say anything as he pushed off from the ledge and took Steve along with him.

“Visit the weaponry,” Herobrine instructed to Blake. The guy was still fairly shaken, as he only glanced over before simply teleporting away. Herobrine let out a great sigh once they were alone, turning to give him a soft look of concern.

“Are you okay? You seemed tense just a bit again.”

He gave a small nod. “Buddy.” Was all he gave as explanation.

Herobrine pulled him into a hug, and he clutched on hard, pressing his face into his boyfriend’s neck. Herobrine’s hands rubbed up and down along his back.

“We’ll get Buddy back. Okay?” Herobrine pushed them apart and settled his hands on Steve’s shoulders, shaking him a little. “Jean will fix it.”

He nodded along. He…believed. That was the important thing, right? That he believe Jean could fix Buddy.

“Okay,” he replied quietly. He was still on the precipice of a freak out. Herobrine seemed to notice that as he took his hand again and lead him back into the castle.

His mind slowly cleared up as they walked, and eventually he realized they were back in their room. Herobrine was standing close behind him, he could sense. A presence looming over him, but in a comforting way.

Steve realized that his heart was beating rapidly, and a gentle touch to his hand made him jump and turn around. Herobrine was staring patiently at him, a small, soft smile on his face. Steve felt his chest ache with affection, and heat spread to his cheeks. There was so much that he wanted to say, as Jean’s words rang through his head. Spend time together. His thoughts were muddled and mixed up in his mind, and his tongue suddenly felt thick, his throat was tight with emotion. Still he tried, opening his mouth but unable to utter even a syllable. He furrowed his brows and instead reached for Herobrine’s hand, which he hadn’t fully retracted after Steve had jumped away, as if expecting this outcome. He probably did. Steve honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Herobrine developed the ability to see into the future. A shiver shot down his spine at that thought—that Herobrine was already so powerful and incredible and even though he could be anywhere in the Overworld right now, he was here, in front of Steve, holding his hand and smiling kindly. Lovingly.

In the wake of his obvious attempt to say something and failing, Herobrine pulled him close and raised his other hand to cradle his cheek, his thumb caressing under one of Steve’s eyes before lowering to his lips. Steve’s breath hitched.

“I could stand here and stare at you for hours,” Herobrine said quietly.

Steve swallowed, nervous and excited and afraid and happy. Emotions he’d only ever dreamed about—a fantasy and nothing more. But suddenly it was here, right in front of him. He reached up and covered Herobrine’s hand, closing his eyes and leaning into the pressure on his cheek, a quiet, content sound escaping from his throat.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, hardly more than a whisper. The truth he was usually too ashamed to admit. “I’m scared that…this could be it.” It was something he didn’t like to think about. For most of the time they’d know each other, Steve had been pining after that happy ending, but after what Jean had just told them, Steve was unsure he would live to see it. The Wither would want Herobrine, either by its side or dead, and Steve was in the way of that goal. Herobrine had pointed out as much. He wasn’t delusional—his death was a very real possibility. And don’t even get him started on Blake and what their connection could mean for their survival.

Herobrine’s expression hardened for a moment, that softness sharpening to determination. “I will never let that happen, okay? I will fight to my last dying breath for our happy ending.”

Steve felt the conviction in that statement settle deep in his heart, more so when Herobrine pulled him in for a hug. He didn’t try to hide anything—he grabbed on tight and debated never letting go again. And despite Herobrine’s strong showing once they’d entered the room, the equally as tight hold Herobrine had him in was telling.

Overcome with a need to express just how much he was feeling at the moment, Steve pulled back enough to be able to press a desperate kiss to Herobrine’s lips. His grip shifted, arms raising until he was cradling Herobrine’s face in his hands. Herobrine’s hands lowered from his back to his hips, and through the kiss Steve shuddered. He pulled away, allowing a brief moment of suspension to linger between them before the realization hit them both much harder this time.

This could be it.

The thought hurt, and Steve sought for a way to heal from it in Herobrine’s mouth. His alarmed sounds spurred action on his boyfriend’s part—Steve suddenly found himself perched on the side of the bed, one of Herobrine’s hands sneaking up his shirt, one of his hands grabbing onto Herobrine’s shirt and pulling up. When Herobrine grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged, Steve obediently lifted his arms so the offending clothing could be pulled off and tossed to the floor. Steve was able to do the same—whatever moment they were sharing, it was keeping Herobrine subdued. Aside from Herobrine’s literal strength, he had the personality of a guy wanting to get straight to business, ripping-of-clothing-to-get-there included. But in this moment, Herobrine was nothing if not slow. From the gentle but firm press of their skin to the thorough kisses that stole Steve’s breath away, despite the growing heat and arousal simmering just under his skin, there was no rush, for them. Steve was content to sit there and kiss, touch, explore. Because he had an idea of where this was going and knew they’d get there eventually. Last time had not been rushed by any means, but it had been their first time—something special, sure, but they were both eager to finally connect on that intimate level. That time had a special place in Steve’s heart.

But this time offered them the opportunity to explore a little more. Explore each other and their relationship. Even now, they’d been pressed hips to chest, lips locked, and Steve was happy to keep them there for a while longer. The heavy blush on his face might start spreading down his neck, but it was a small price to pay. And his inexperience might rear its head, as they deviate from the one example he has to go off of, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have to be perfect—he never had been before and sure as hell never claimed to be. And Herobrine loved him anyway.

Honestly he was more surprised—but no less delighted—by Herobrine’s behavior. The man seemed just as content letting them make out with no signs of stopping, hands roaming along his back and clothed hips. And that felt nice, felt amazing, but having just the one previous sexual experience to go off of…Steve’s body was quickly remembering the pure sensation awaiting him—awaiting them both—once things progressed. His thin borrowed pants did nothing to hide his enjoyment of their making out. Each stroke of Herobrine’s fingers against his skin sent shivers or arousal through his body, and lit his blood on fire. He feared he might pass out from the sheer amount of blood staining his cheeks.

Having been only partly on the bed, more leaning than anything, Steve moved to sit on it properly, Herobrine following him as their mouths broke apart and came back together during the shuffling. Steve finally pulled Herobrine to lean over him as he let his weight drag him vertical. A low groan escaped the kiss from Herobrine when Steve wrapped his legs around his hips.

“What have you done to me,” Herobrine half-mumbled into their kiss, taking advantage of Steve having slotted their lower halves together by thrusting forward slowly, grinding them together and making Steve tense at the bout of pleasure sent straight to his core. Herobrine was nearly laying on top of him, only supported by a hand beside Steve’s head, and pulled back enough to look at him. Steve didn’t know why, but the sight of Herobrine’s face flushed struck him with emotion that welled in his heart. Herobrine was just as effected as he was. And the look Herobrine was giving him, like he was committing him to memory, it had Steve’s breath catching in his chest. His heart was suddenly loud in his ears as it pounded.

He couldn’t stand to be even this far away from his boyfriend. The couple inches between their faces was too much, and Steve tightened his legs around Herobrine’s hips as he cupped the sides of his neck and drew him down for another kiss, this time opening his mouth and letting Herobrine slide their tongues together. It set a heavier blush on his face, and a hotter ache in his gut. He dug his nails into the meat of Herobrine’s shoulders, worried in the back of his mind about letting up so as not to harm the other, but Herobrine’s low groan and more feverish kissing dashed it from his mind all together. Suddenly it was about being closer than close, a level of intimacy that was impossible but still strived for.

Finally, after what felt like years and right when Steve was debating saying something but too shy to do so, Herobrine drew back from his mouth to trickle kisses across his jaw and down his neck, biting feather light and soothing the sting with his tongue. Steve gave breathy moans to spur Herobrine on, feeling his cock stir with eager interest as Herobrine slowly, slowly, moved from his neck to his chest to his stomach. The kisses there made Steve’s moans lighten into breathy, half-moaned laughs until Herobrine’s hands settled at the seem of his pants and pulled them down. The cool air on his exposed, heated flesh sent a shudder down his spine, but Herobrine remedied that by lathing his hot tongue along the length of his cock from base to tip and back, then paused to look up at him with such an intense gaze that Steve felt paralyzed by it, holding his breath as he waited for Herobrine to continue.

He did after not too long, using one hand to steady Steve before taking him into his mouth. Steve laid back fully and clutched at the sheets as the velvety, warm muscles of Herobrine’s mouth worked to get him off. He gasped and moaned at the divine sensation, eyes squeezed shut so hard he saw stars bloom beneath his eyelids. Herobrine’s other hand sought his and laced their fingers together, to which Steve squeezed as hard as he could.

Herobrine didn’t increase his pace, which Steve both appreciated and resented. It felt amazing, so pleasurable he never wanted it to end, but it wasn’t enough. The way Herobrine was moving, his up-down-up-down motions were not able to push him any closer than he already was, and he was close. He just needed a little something extra, a little something to push him over the edge into pure bliss. But he was unsure of how to ask for it, and too embarrassed to do so besides. He knew he shouldn’t be but he couldn’t help it.

Luckily Herobrine seemed to realize or at least assume he was close by the way he started bobbing faster, and focusing more attention on the tip. It had Steve gasping and giving small thrusts upwards, nerves zinging with electric pleasure until that tightly coiled ball of arousal in his gut finally exploded.

Herobrine swallowed him down wonderfully as he came, his free hand moving to grasp at his boyfriends hair. He rode the pleasure greedily, thinking he could get addicted to that feeling. Or to Herobrine in general.

He was left panting and limp, but opened his eyes when he felt Herobrine move back up his body, until the man was laying on top of him. The look on Herobrine’s face was still soft, still gentle, and even the kiss he drew Steve into easily was methodical. He pressed chaste kisses to Steve lips before encouraging Steve to open his mouth more, so Herobrine could stick his tongue inside and explore to his heart’s content. As Steve’s heart settled into safer rates of beating, he sighed into the kiss, and idea forming in his mind. He knew Herobrine might try to stop him, but Steve wouldn’t take no for an answer. And besides, he didn’t think Herobrine would deny him if he really wanted to return the favor. Herobrine didn’t seem like the kinda guy to reject him if he dropped to his knees and told him to take his dick out.

So, with a little urging, Steve had Herobrine flip them around and also scoot up to lay properly on the bed. It wasn’t particularly large—they might struggle to sleep side by side—but it would do for what Steve had in mind, and for what was inevitably about to happen right afterwards.

Predictably, once Steve looked down at his prize trapped within jeans, Herobrine paused and made him look up.

“You know you don’t have to, right?” He said quietly. Steve had to give him credit. It was a sweet notion. But hardly fair. And Steve was nothing if not a giver.

“I know. But I want to,” he replied honestly, settling his hands at the front of Herobrine’s jeans. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Just—don’t hesitate to tell me what to do. You know, not very used to this kinda thing,” he chuckled, more to himself. Considering who his boyfriend was, it would probably take a while for him to feel comfortable taking direct control of any sexual interaction. Maybe one day. But for now he was perfectly happy letting Herobrine lead.

“You’ll do great. Trust me, you could give the worst blow job ever but it’ll still be worth it because it’s you.” Herobrine reached down and cupped his cheek, smoothing his thumb over his heated and reddened skin while Steve leaned into the touch, smiling.

“Thanks…I think?” He said playfully as he undid the buttons holding the jeans together and slid the zipper down, peeling the fabric away to get to his prize beneath.

Herobrine tucked both hands behind his head and relaxed onto the bed, closing his eyes. “Just try not to think too hard about it, and focus occasionally on the tip.”

It was strange feeling nervous yet resolute about this, but Steve was determined to do this somewhat decently. Because Herobrine was right, after all—there wasn’t much to it. He had a great example to go off of as well. He could always just rely on that.

So, without further ado, he pulled Herobrine’s cock out and got straight to work. He didn’t worry about the size or how much he could take in his mouth, just closed his eyes, put his lips around it, and starting bobbing his head.

It was a strange duality. He liked it because it made Herobrine feel good, but he didn’t like it because it made his jaw hurt and didn’t taste particularly good. The beads of pre come that welled up and were caught by his tongue were bitter and salty, but helped a little with the slide. He tried alternate ways of sucking, hollowing out his cheeks for quick passes around the tip, lathing his tongue side to side along the shaft, tonguing at the slit on top. He was sure it was a simple blow job, but it was the best he felt he could do. In any case, Herobrine seemed to like it well enough, as he too let out breathy sighs and moans of pleasure each time Steve went down and came back up, wiggling his tongue against the flesh. It was encouraging to see the way Herobrine’s body reacted much the same as his own, little involuntary jerks and shivers as the pleasure hit him hard. And after a beat, Herobrine dropped one hand to rest on his head, not pulling or pushing, just leaving it to slide between the short chops of hair. But it encouraged Steve, made him move quicker. The act itself might not have been doing anything amazing for him, but Herobrine’s sounds of pleasure and approval were definitely felt in the pit of his stomach, a second wave of arousal slowly filling out his own cock.

Much sooner than he was expecting(but definitely hoping for) Herobrine’s hand gripped his hair, not unkindly but as a warning, and his hips jerked in short movements as he came. It was a bit of a surprise, but Steve swallowed dutifully, though some still escaped the seal of his mouth and trickled down his chin. He pulled back, breathing heavily, and went willingly when Herobrine pulled him up, laid him on the bed. Herobrine took a moment to swipe his thumb over the trickle of come on his chin, but when he moved to pull his hand away, Steve grabbed it and brought it to his mouth, licking it clean instead. The full body shudder that shot through Herobrine and the intensity of his gaze as he watched sent flutters through his stomach. That naked desire excited him. And when Herobrine pulled his hand away and replaced it with his mouth, he smiled into the kiss, wrapping his legs around the hips slotted between his thighs and blushing fiercely when Herobrine broke the kiss to pull back and glance down at where both their lengths were pressed together.

“Oh ho, ready again so soon? Must be eager for me, aren’t you?” It was said with a hint of mirth through Herobrine’s otherwise gentle tone. Everything about their time together so far had seemed slow and quiet, and neither, it seemed, wanted to break that.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know you’re irresistible,” Steve playfully chided.

“Ah, you mean my charms and good looks got you reeled in huh?”

Steve rolled his eyes and tightened his legs around Herobrine’s hips, pulling them together a little closer. “Or maybe something else…” He trailed off, wagging his brows suggestively. Herobrine’s smile stretched into a grin.

“I see, you only like me for my dick. Well, then shame on me to keep you waiting. Let’s fix that, shall we?”

Steve felt his heart skip a beat at that. He remembered their last time all too well, the intimacy that made his heart soar, his stomach clench, his nerves dance. He was more than ready to experience all that again. Just one taste and his entire being desired it more than anything he’d known before. Well he hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Herobrine was irresistible.

Herobrine got up off the bed and Steve propped himself up on his elbows as he watched him divest himself of the rest of his clothes. He hungrily racked his gaze along the expanse of toned skin and defined muscle exposed for his eyes and his eyes only, biting his lip before Herobrine caught him staring. But he didn’t gloat or make a quip, instead he reached forward to take Steve’s flimsy pants in hand and slid them down and then off, leaving the both of them naked. Steve took a deep breath as Herobrine retraced the path he’d just taken, this time sliding his hands up Steve’s calves, to the outsides of his thighs, to his hips and sides until he crawled onto the bed, sliding his knees under Steve’s thighs to slot them together perfectly. Steve moaned lowly at the teasing sensation, nothing more than the briefest of touches that promised so much more was to come.

“I won’t let anything happen to us,” Herobrine said in the quiet, as they stared at each other. The mere thought made Steve’s eyes sting. He brought his hands up, rubbing them up Herobrine’s chest until they could hook around his neck and pull him down. Herobrine followed more than willingly, pressing them together, lips finding each other’s naturally. Steve clung on tightly again, his emotions getting the better of him. He couldn’t live without this—without Herobrine. Herobrine had said once that Steve ruined him for anyone else, but if that was true, then so was the opposite. Steve knew he would never find a connection like this again. They just understood each other so well and fit together like perfect puzzle pieces. If one of them died…the aftermath was too nightmarish to consider.

He made a desperate sound, taking the initiative to open his mouth, push his tongue forward, draw them into a deeper kiss. Herobrine’s answering sound, just as desperate and knowing, made the growing heat in his gut that much more intense.

“I know you won’t,” he finally answered, whispering the words in the small space between their mouths. He wanted to believe those words.

Herobrine had an incredibly intense gaze as they stared at each other. Those white eyes which were normally so hard to read now gave away everything racing through his mind. Steve traced his eyes over every hard feature of the face hovering above his, his heart and knees going weak.

In this quiet, still moment, Steve brought his hands around to cup Herobrine’s face and draw him down for a light kiss, the arousal, the pleasure, the ache for intimacy all paused to enjoy this feather-light pressure against his lips, the rabbit-fast beating of his heart as he felt like he was floating above the clouds. He ached with the love he felt for this man, still so new but strong. He moaned lightly into the kiss just as he heard Herobrine teleport something into the room and begin to pull away. Steve let him go reluctantly, that brief spell of intense emotion over. Herobrine sat up, pushing Steve’s thighs apart a little more and giving him a view at the item in Herobrine’s hand. A bottle of…regen?

“This is the only thing I can think of that might help us make this easier,” Herobrine explained to Steve’s inquisitive expression.

Steve eyed it. “Isn’t it a little…too liquid-y?” He asked, only feeling a little dumb. He didn’t presume to know more about what did and did not work as adequate lubricant, but based on last time, a regular potion seemed to miss the mark by a lot.

“Right you are. But I’m going to try something, watch.”

Herobrine gripped the bottle from underneath and uncorked it, then started swirling its contents slowly. Steve waited patiently, unsure what exactly he was meant to see, but it became clear enough when a barely-there steam started to emit from the opening.

“Are you heating it?” He asked after a beat. Herobrine nodded.

“Have you ever used a cream made from potions?”

Steve shook his head.

“I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“It’s not, but the concept is there. Ask any apothecary and they’d say they’ve never heard of it, or that it doesn’t exist, but a lot dabble in its potential. Plus, you can use more over a longer period of time, especially for smaller injuries or complications.” Herobrine smiled down at him and laid his other hand on Steve’s lower stomach, tantalizingly close to where Steve actually wanted him to touch, but close enough to make him suck in a breath. “Or for more naughty purposes.”

“I like the naughty purposes,” he replied breathlessly. Herobrine’s smile crooked up on one side.

“I thought you might,” he winked, then looked at the bottle. Steve did as well, noticing how the liquid inside sloshed much slower, turning viscous. His mouth went dry and he swallowed, flicking his eyes over to see Herobrine staring at him again, that soft-edged gaze of desire sending a shiver down his spine.

Without warning, the hand that Herobrine had on his stomach slid over to wrap around his cock. It made him jerk, at the unexpected stimulus, but he moaned and relaxed right into the teasing strokes, biting his lip and curling his toes. Despite having come once already, the pleasure was just as potent as the first time. Something he felt was an inherently ‘Herobrine’ thing to be able to achieve.

Herobrine’s hand left and Steve almost whined before it came back coated in that warmed, semi-solid state that tingled against his skin. But the slick helping Herobrine to stroke along his cock with ease made him moan louder than before. But it wasn’t enough to stop him from immediately tensing when he felt Herobrine’s other hand travel lower.

Herobrine didn’t say anything, and Steve knew what to do already, but that didn’t make it easier. However, Herobrine didn’t pull his fingers away, just kept them in place, rubbing gently, slowly, until Steve’s body felt comfortable enough to relax. Steve expected him to take the opportunity to press right in, but instead he let go of his dick—which he internally mourned—and used that hand to support himself as he leaned forward and kissed him, thorough and dirty. Steve was left clutching onto him, little sounds of desperate approval escaping the kiss. It was only when Steve was blushing fiercely in the face again and breathing faster from the kissing that Herobrine finally slid one finger inside him.

It wasn’t too bad, and the semi-solid potion tingled to shoo away the hurt. The stretch was more unfamiliar than uncomfortable, and wasn’t even the worst to come. He was somewhat relieved not to be feeling all that bad. Plus, Herobrine’s kissing served to distract him greatly.

It progressed to a point where Steve started—shyly, but nonetheless—moving his hips in an obvious attempt to get Herobrine to do more. To give him more. But if the smile against his lips was any indication, Herobrine knew perfectly well he was being overly thorough with just the one finger and was waiting for Steve to verbally beg him for it. Bastard.

But speaking was already becoming hard for Steve, through the sensual kiss and the intrusion inside him. It might have felt weird but it still felt good. With Herobrine, everything felt good. He was like the most addictive substance, and Steve was not shy to say he was hooked. And when Herobrine pressed his finger just right, Steve’s body would jolt at the intense surge of pleasure, and any words he’d come up with would be dashed from his mind. All he was reduced to was a moaning, gasping mess, legs trembling from where they were only held open by Herobrine’s mass physically stopping them from closing. In an effort not to hurt his boyfriend too much, Steve lowered his hands to grip the sheets, tightly balling them in his fists.

“Come on,” Herobrine whispered against his lips. “I know you want more. Tell me.”

Of course, he waited for Steve to open his mouth before pressing right against his prostate, so all that tumbled out of his mouth was a desperate moan. Still, he tried.

“H-Hero, please…m-mor-ahhhhh.” His mediocre sentence ended with a low, sighed-out moan as Herobrine rewarded him with a second finger, still with that gentle, unhurried pace. It allowed him to feel every small movement as the fingers were pushed in, wiggled around, pulled out. A repetitive motion that still made his blood pump hot and his body ache for release.

Herobrine left his mouth alone to bite and suck at the skin along his neck and shoulders. He could feel the marks being made and did absolutely nothing to stop it. He even turned his head to make it easier.

It took longer for the two fingers to feel okay enough for more, though not by much. And all throughout, Steve could do nothing more than moan, whine, or gasp at the various sensations Herobrine laid upon his body. And the smile on that handsome face, when Steve opened his eyes enough to see it, told him that Herobrine was enjoying this torture more than he should be. But Steve’s brain was too scrambled to say anything more than ‘please’ or ‘more,’ let alone a full sentence. That capability had gone out the window long ago.

But Herobrine did give him more, a third finger and more semi-solid potion to help it along. The tingling alone almost made him come, but Herobrine put a gentle stop to that by grasping his cock firmly. He’d taken to sitting up, leaving Steve’s lips red and glistening and his neck bitten and marked up. He was watching closely, intensely, otherworldly white eyes taking the whole of him in. The debauchery that he exhibited so easily, despite his inexperience. Herobrine definitely knew what he was doing.

When the fingers pulled out and didn’t immediately return, Steve whined low and pathetic in his throat and opened his eyes to see why. What he got was Herobrine leaning over him, shifting his knees better between his legs as he used one hand to line himself up, the other arm bent at the elbow to support him. His lips brushed against Steve’s when he spoke.

“Please tell me you’re ready.”

His voice was low and strained. Steve knew he was exhibiting an incredible amount of restraint right now. But they both knew that this moment in time was something special, something to be savored and treasured and dreamt about. If they got the chance to dream again.

Steve was nodding before Herobrine even finished his sentenece, hands coming up to clutch onto him anyway he could.

“Yes, please, Hero, fuck, please, I’m ready, fuck, fuuckkkkk.” He and Herobrine moaned at the same time as Herobrine finally pressed inside. He went slow, pausing every few seconds to allow Steve to adjust before adding more, and then more and more until Steve swore there could be no more and he finally bottomed out. By the time that happened, Herobrine was showing more signs that it was effecting him. His face was flushed a pretty pink and his breaths were heavy as they escaped his mouth. And by the time they were fully connected, Steve had pushed his face into Herobrine’s shoulder and was biting hard, still tense and a little uncomfortable but undeniably feeling good. The kind of good only Herobrine could make him feel.

Good in a way he couldn’t think about losing.

Herobrine gripped the hair at the back of his head and pulled him back, only to press a bruising kiss to his lips. He moaned, both at that and because Herobrine started moving, deep, even, slow thrusts that he felt from his toes to his fingers. He felt every inch in that smooth, careful slide in and out. There wasn’t as much attention to his prostate unless it just happened to be brushed against on a thrust, but the pure intimacy and the pleasure he felt from that alone more than made up for it. He kept catching himself digging his nails hard along Herobrine’s back, and eventually gave up trying to stop. Herobrine didn’t seem to mind, anyway, if the way his thrusts didn’t let up, in strength nor in their steady speed.

He was reduced to punched out little moans on each deep thrust, nails digging into or scraping down a muscled back, thighs tensed hard around a thin waist, ankles hooked at a lower back. And Herobrine was practically laying directly on top of him, one arm beside his head, the other hand clenching his thigh tightly—the only thing betraying his calm and gentle façade. Steve appreciated and welcomed this gentle lovemaking, and it had all the more impact knowing that Herobrine wanted so badly to just let go and fuck him hard and fast. But this could very well be their last night together, or at the very least their last opportunity to have sex before they confronted the Wither, and Steve wouldn’t have changed a thing about it.

Neither could do more than breath heavily, Steve into Herobrine’s shoulder, Herobrine into the sheets beside Steve’s head. But the longer their coupling went on, and the closer Steve got to that blissful edge, the higher the emotion spiked. It was already hard to barely think of the future without Herobrine before, but now just the vaguest of thoughts crossing his mind had him scrambling to pull Herobrine closer, had him desperate to see Herobrine’s face.

When Herobrine did see his face, he paused, suspending them in a pleasured stasis, brows furrowing in obvious distress over Steve’s apparent unhappiness.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, and his voice was breathy and strained. Steve was reminded of just—Gods, it had to have been only a handful of hours ago. When he’d woke up to Herobrine in distress, and his inevitable breakdown. That level of emotion was here, open for Steve to see. He shook his head, at a loss for words before he managed to choke some out.

“Thank you.” Herobrine’s eyes widened. “Thank you for everything.” Steve meant it, more than he’d ever meant anything in his life. He unhooked his nails from Herobrine’s back and slid them up to his face, tracing his thumbs over Herobrine’s cheekbones and then lips, hardly even believing he’d ever gotten the chance to do it. And distressed that this could be the last time he did.

“I was…I was nothing before…I met you. A-And n-now I—I could lose you—“ He’d been doing a good job, keeping the tears in since now, but they came in a torrent, and though he tried to brings his hands over to cover his face while he cried, Herobrine caught them, pressed them to the bed, laced their fingers together. He squeezed in comfort that Steve desperately needed and returned ten fold, holding onto his lover’s hands so tightly his arms trembled with the effort.

Herobrine closed the gap between them, pressing a more desperate, more hungry kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he mumbled into it, barely intelligible. Steve returned the sentiment so brokenly it hardly counted as a sentence.

“I should be…the one…thanking you,” Herobrine said, as he started thrusting again. The pause had left his groin aching, angry at being denied, but the continuation set the pleasure on fire right away. He was so, so close, everything too much, his body couldn’t handle more. He was ready to fall off the cliff and be caught by waves of pleasure, he could feel it happening, so tantalizingly close—

Herobrine’s thrusting quickened for the first time, and became sloppier. His breathing had gone even heavier than before. Like Steve, he was nearly his peak, and Steve was desperate to reach it together.

“C-Close,” he whispered.

Herobrine nodded.

“Together,” he replied.

A hand lowering to wrap around his cock was enough to do it. A few quick strokes was exactly the push he needed.

He muffled his cry of pure bliss in Herobrine’s shoulder, body tensing as lightning bolts of pleasure shot through him, so strong he might have blacked out for a moment.

He was still able to hear Herobrine’s moaned out curse as he gave his few last powerful thrusts before pressing his face into Steve’s hair and going still.

Their chests were pressed together. Steve could feel the way Herobrine’s heart was racing, just like his own. His jaw twinged in discomfort, reminding him to let go of Herobrine’s shoulder. His brain was too mushy to apologize for the angry red mark he left behind. And for the scratches he was sure marred Herobrine’s back before his body healed itself.

Herobrine took a deep breath before drawing back, though only enough to get a good look at Steve’s face.

“I love you,” he said. Steve smiled, blinking away the wetness on his lashes.

“I love you too.”

Herobrine kept them as close as he could as he turned them over, though he did pull out. Steve was nearly boneless and completely unhelpful, barely even reacting other than to moan in a mix of low simmering arousal and dissatisfaction from Herobrine leaving him, but it didn’t hinder his boyfriend from settling back onto the bed and pulling Steve to lay half on top of him, ear pressed to his chest and able to listen to that strong, pounding heart beat.

They settled. The room was quiet in the wake of their lovemaking. Herobrine’s breathing returned to normal quicker, but eventually Steve’s did as well, leaving them in silence.

Steve couldn’t stop thinking that…this could have be it. The tears from earlier stung at his eyes and he petulantly turned his face toward Herobrine’s chest to hide the almost-tears. He made the effort to snake his arms around Herobrine’s sides, squeezing as tightly as his tired muscles would let him.

“I meant everything I said,” Herobrine told him quietly. Steve’s heart skipped a beat. “We’re getting through this. Together.”

Steve looked up, finding Herobrine already staring at him. He smiled, though it was twinged with sadness.

“Together,” he repeated, and shimmied forward a bit to lightly brush their lips together. Herobrine took a deep breath before seeking his mouth out fully. It remained fairly chaste before Steve pulled back, stifling a yawn. While he warred with the possibility of sleep, Herobrine brought the covers up and settled them both more comfortably into bed.

And then, in the quiet, a thought popped into Steve’s head.

“…Do you think Blake felt any of that?”

Herobrine snorted at his question, but it turned into a genuine laugh when he thought about it. He wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulled him close, rested his face against Steve’s hair.

“I hope so. Bastard deserves it.”

Chapter Text

The room was quiet, save for Steve’s even breaths as he slept. The muted purple of the walls and floor instilled a sense of calmness.

Inside, Herobrine was anything but.

Once he’d felt that Steve had been asleep long enough that simple movements wouldn’t wake him, Herobrine had shifted their positions, sitting up and resting his back against the wall, letting Steve have full use of the pillow. He kept his leg pressed against the warm body next to him, still a little desperate to see and feel the reality of sharing a bed with his love. His hand had dropped to Steve’s hair and wove through the short strands gently. That, too, might normally have helped calm him.

But there was too much on his mind, and one major topic he had selectively chosen to omit from his detailing of events when they were separate.

Alex.

It weighed on him, and he wasn’t sure why. Alex didn’t deserve it, surely. It wasn’t out of respect. But he had purposefully stopped himself from mentioning Alex had even been there, let alone that she was dead. By his hand.

Steve wouldn’t care. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Steve would care to an extent. He’d care about Herobrine going through that. The fact that Herobrine did it at all, even though Herobrine had said multiple times at this point that he’d do it. He might even care about Alex’s death itself, even though Herobrine cringed at the thought. She didn’t deserve it.

He wasn’t sure if that was the reason why he failed to mention anything, instead telling himself it was for Steve’s benefit. That he was helping Steve by…omitting the truth.

Herobrine looked down.

Even in sleep, Steve looked exhausted. Battle worn and weary. Herobrine didn’t need to stress him out more. News of Alex’s death could come later. Much, much later, when all this was behind them and they were finally living that happy ending he and Steve had talked about a few times. He ached with want for it. Cabin in the woods, just the two of them. Maybe a dog or cat. Animals and nature. No Gods, no Withered, no bullshit. Just…them.

He looked away from Steve, to one of the windows showing a stunning view of the mystical sky. He kept his hand running absentmindedly through Steve’s hair.

On top of everything else, Jean’s words from earlier troubled him as well. Come find me on the main island.