Fiction: Long Way From Redemption

[kethni]

Name: Long Way From Redemption

Pairing: Matt/Nathan,

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Adult language, sexual situations, violence.

Word Count: 8002

Authors Note: For arunicenroll




A soft, mournful howl invades Matt’s dream: some lonely predator calling to the moon. Matt opens his eyes and sees the stars. Underneath him he feels gritty coldness. Matt takes a handful of soil and lets it run through his fingers. Not soil, sand.

Matt sits up with difficulty for his left hand is weighed down. There is nothing to be seen but the stark purity of sand and scrubby cacti adorning the horizon. The moon hangs huge in the inky sky unfettered by intruding buildings.

The desert is deserted. Matt almost smiles at that, almost. The canteen is full of water but it won’t go far with two of them. Two. Matt kicks the man handcuffed to him.

‘Petrelli, wake up. I’m not hauling you around.’

Nathan opens his eyes. He looks around. He looks at the handcuffs binding them together. He checks his pockets for the key.

‘Fuck.’

‘Yeah, you got that right.’



The day before.

Matt does his business out of the “Zeus Saloon” most days. It’s quiet in the mornings with only Claire stumbling around sweeping up and Lyle behind the bar. It’s a family run place, and that makes him smile because most of the money they make comes from renting out their rooms to tired men who pass for interested ones in a bad light. Not everyone is cut out for mining and where there are miners there are all the hangers on just waiting to provide them with food, shelter, stores, and sex. The “Zeus” does good business since it’s the only saloon catering for his kind of taste in the whole state. Sure some will make do rather than travel but there’s plenty can’t make do and travelling, and paying heavily when they arrive, is the only option. Sure, it’s technically illegal but here on the frontier law is scarce and expensive while justice is just a story folks tell their children. The nearest judge is three towns over and Matt’s heard enough rumours of his… eccentricities to make him sure that Judge Linderman is using some law book nobody else ever heard of before. So if people around here want to square things up, Matt’s not so dishonest to claim to be serving justice, they come to Matt. They tell him their trouble and if he agrees they’ve been hard done by, and if they’ve got the money, he’ll make it right. He’ll bring in murderers, rapists, cattle rustlers and the like, if the money is right. He’s few qualms about handing those folks over to rough justice; they’d get the same from the law in any event. And kiddie killers, well, he’s been known to catch them just out of the tattered and battered remnants of public spirit that he still has. He rarely goes after thieves. They’re generally too small time for him to bother with and besides the people who’ve been robbed generally no longer have any money with which to pay him.

‘We have some gold,’ the miner says. ‘We cannot sell the gold because this stupid law that says foreigners may not profit from mining gold. That is what this man did. He promised to sell our gold for us, for a percentage, but instead he stole it and he fled. We will give you gold if you bring him back.’

‘He’s probably spent the money by now,’ Matt points out. ‘It’s been a week after all.’

The miner smiles unpleasantly. ‘We know that. We would like the next man who thinks to steal from us to know what would happen if he tried.’

‘I’m not a killer in the normal scheme of things,’ Matt says. ‘If I bring him back he goes to trial. There’s a judge in Sol Oscuro.’

The miners shift and mutter to each other.

‘We wanted him to break the law,’ the head man points out.

‘The point isn’t that he didn’t do that, the point is that he stole your gold. That’s right? He took it and he ran, right? That’s theft. So you give me a nugget now, I take him to the judge, and you give me another nugget.’

‘What if the judge does not have him hanged?’ the head miner asks.

‘Well that’s the risk you take with the law,’ Matt says. ‘Those are my terms. Take my advice though and tell the judge you got the gold in payment for something. You tell him you’re miners and you’ll end up in trouble too. Now tell me about this thief.’



His name is Adam Monroe, a name that rings some bells with Matt but nothing too clangourous. The West is full of petty thieves, cutpurses, and con men. Horses that been dyed to get a better price, card players with aces up their sleeves, and fainting maidens with fast hands are two a penny around here. Bandits, outlaws, and murderers are the ones Matt keeps an eye out for. There’s always someone willing to pay a bounty for them. There being no law in town, or for more than ten miles around, Matt instead visits the saloons, stores, and bars until he finds a few people who know the name of Adam Monroe.

In Bishop’s bar he sits talking to the proprietor while Elle Bishop, the proprietor’s daughter, tries to sit on his knee. Bishop ran a saloon first but his daughter had a tendency to feel up the clientele who didn’t want it and gut the ones who paid for it. That kind of bad reputation can be difficult to shake and they’d had to move here and start over with a bar.

‘I’ve heard of Adam Monroe,’ Bishop says, shining glasses with his apron. ‘Silver tongued type, if you shake his hand you need to count your fingers afterwards.’

‘Sounds like the man I’m looking for.’

‘I could be the woman you’re looking for,’ Elle giggles in his ear.

‘Elle, can’t you see Mr Parkman’s not interested. Why don’t you go entertain Mr Doyle?’ Bishop suggests. ‘Sorry about that,’ he says to Matt.

‘About Monroe, you wouldn’t have any idea where he might’ve gone? Some friend local he might’ve holed up with. It’ll take him time to change all that gold without attracting suspicion or getting himself robbed.’

‘Happen I hear he’s got a particular friend in Red Gulch. Ornery Britisher type name of Rains. You know Monroe’s English?’

‘You don’t say?’ Matt says, sliding a dollar over the counter. It disappears into the cavernous pockets of Bob’s apron.

‘So I’m told. Monroe’s supposed to be quite the dandy, corn coloured hair and sky blue eyes. Face like Don Juan and a manner to match.’

Matt smiles at him. ‘You sure you don’t want to find him yourself?’

Bob pats his belly. ‘I know well enough that a face like that would only smile at someone like me to stopping me seeing that the hands were in my pockets. When I want pretty I’ll rent it.’ He smiles sardonically. ‘It’s a damn sight cheaper in the long run.’

‘Ain’t that the truth?’ Matt finishes his whiskey and gestures for another. ‘You know where abouts in Red Gulch?’

Bob purses his lips as he pours out the whiskey. ‘I’m pretty sure that it’s a house by Black Lake. If you ask for the Rains’ place when you get to Red Gulch someone should be able to point you the way, for a price of course.’

‘And this Rains character is a friend of Monroe’s?’ Matt checks.

Bob smiles slightly and shrugs. ‘Men of that ilk only have one kind of “friend”, Matt. If you follow my meaning.’

‘Ahh. The very friendly kind of friends.’ Matt finishes his whiskey. ‘Thank you for your help, Bob.’

‘Any time, Matt,’ he says with a faint smile. ‘Best of luck.’



Red Gulch is a few hours’ ride away, nothing too extreme but they’re getting close to the desert there and Matt wants to be prepared in case Monroe runs. He wanders over to the hardware store for supplies, remembering too late, that it’s being run now by Mr Gray. He’s probably a decent guy, Matt reflects, but there’s something about the way the man stares that makes him uncomfortable.

As it turns out he’s busy staring at, and serving, some religious types when Matt arrives. The leader, a scraggy and wild-eyed man named Samuel, has been causing unrest in town for a week or so. When a man has gone all the way west to find his fortune, eschewing comfort, law, and religion, the last thing he wants is some pompous, self-righteous ass disturbing his drinking time by setting up in the saloon and wailing about how terrible his life has been. Matt’s not a scholar, and Christianity certainly isn’t his bag, but he’s pretty sure that insisting on tell people how hard done by you are ain’t going to win you any friends, let alone converts.

‘You, moving on Miss?’ he asks one of the exhausted looking women that trail around after Samuel.

‘Yes, Samuel’s decided that we’ve been called somewhere else,’ she says. ‘Again.’

‘Where’re you going this time?’ Matt asks, more out of a desire to avoid them and to pass the time than anything else.

‘Mexico, we’re going to a couple of the smaller towns on the way just to hand out some leaflets and then Mexico to spread the word. We leave tomorrow.’

‘You speak much Spanish?’ Matt asks, keeping his tone neutral and his face amiable.

‘Not a word,’ she says. ‘None of us, but Samuel is sure that the Mexicans will speak enough English to understand us.’

Matt feels his smile twitch but manages to keep it in place. ‘Well the best of luck to you, Miss.’

Samuel turns from the counter and slithers towards Matt. ‘A soul in need of succour, perhaps?’

‘No Sir, just in need of supplies,’ Matt says, stepping around him.

Mr Gray, to Matt’s lasting surprise, rolls his eyes at him. ‘I trust you’re not going to try to teach me the way to better understand myself while simultaneously attempting to steal my stock?’

‘I don’t rightly care if you understand yourself and I don’t have an entourage to steal while I distract you,’ Matt says.

‘Good. What do you want?’



The ride out to Red Gulch takes a little longer than Matt expects but it’s still early and the day is warm and dry. Matt keeps an eye out for bandits and a hand on his pistol but his conscious mind drifts a little. These are the moments that he loves, when the world is quiet, and he’s on the trail. Nothing complicated or life threatening, just the harsh, unyielding beauty of the country.



Red Gulch is barely a town. Hell, it’s scarcely more than a handful of buildings thrown haphazardly together. Matt slows his horse down to a trot as they pass down the main street. It’s a ramshackle affair with the kind of unfriendly citizenry on display that makes a casual passer-by keep passing.

‘Hey kid,’ Matt calls to a gawky, awkward looking youth minding a couple of horses. ‘I’m looking for the Rains’ place; do you know where it is?’

The boy points to a distant tree, lightning struck, black and wizened. ‘Over there by the lake. Only place out there on account of Rains owning the whole kit and caboodle.’

‘Thanks kid,’ Matt says, tossing him a quarter. He spurs his horse along the dirt road and then off the track towards the glimmering lake. There’s a road leading there but Matt’s wary of frightening Monroe off if he’s there. Most confidence men and tricksters rely on their smarts and the slightest chance of physical confrontation will set them heading for the hills at speed. Matt’s fine with physical confrontation and if he doesn’t understand something then he doesn’t understand it. He’s not so lacking in intelligence as to get himself all knotted up trying to understand that his quarry gets away. No, he’s got plenty of rope, a net, and some other necessaries to grab his man and haul him back to the court and that’s all he’s going to do.

Despite his best attempts though he finds himself approaching the house from the front. It’s a big house but rundown and ominously dark. If Monroe’s in there he’s doing whatever he’s doing purely by daylight. Or maybe by touch. Matt ties up his horse, puts the folded up net on his hip, and approaches the house. When forced into directness it’s always best to play the hand as if you’d chosen it, Matt finds. He raps sharply on the door.

‘Excuse me, is there any folks home?’ Matt rests his other hand on his gun as he taps again. ‘Anyone in there?’

After a few moments he hears the creaking of the floorboards. Matt moves his hand and smoothes his coat over his holster.

‘What do you want?’ demands a gruff voice as the door is opened a crack. The man on the other side is older than Matt, with wild hair and a matted beard. Apart from the worn shirt he’s hastily pulled on he’s otherwise naked.

‘I’m here on behalf of a firm of lawyers, sir, someone has left some money to a gent by the name of Adam Monroe and I’ve been told this might be the place to find him.’

There’s another creak in the darkness beyond the door.

‘Who told you?’

‘I was told in a bar.’

‘Gimme the letter then,’ Rains demands. ‘Bleedin’ lawyers write everything down in Latin and charge you extra for it. So hand over the letter.’

Matt hesitates, not having considered that possibility, and in the moment he hesitates Rains turns and yells.
‘It’s the law, run!’

‘Actually not,’ Matt says, shouldering him aside and running into the house. A younger man with corn blond hair is running ahead of him, doing up his pants and his shirt as he goes. ‘Stop where you are!’

Monroe flashes Matt a bright grin before turning a corner. Matt yanks the net from his hip and, as he turns the corner, lets it loose. Monroe grins again as he runs through the back door, leaps on a horse, and rides away. As Matt jumps forward the man entangled in the net grabs his leg.

‘Get me the hell out of here you halfwit before I arrest you for assaulting an officer of the law!’

Behind them Rains cocks his shotgun. ‘Get out of my bleedin’ house both of you.’

‘Okay, Sir,’ Matt says politely. He reaches down and pulls the net off the struggling lawman and folds it up.

‘You got until three and then I’m bleedin’ firing! One…’

Matt yanks the lawman to his feet.

‘Two…’

They scramble for the door.

‘Three!’

The gun goes off, just missing the two of them as they exit.

‘That was fantastic,’ the lawman says sourly. ‘Thank you very much.’

‘You were the one in the damn way. You hadn’t been there I’d have grabbed him and been on my way by now,’ Matt snaps.

‘If you hadn’t have gone knocking on the door like a damn jackass they’d have both still been in bed!’

‘Where they had guns!’

The lawman shakes his head. He’s a little shorter than Matt and around the same age. He’s handsome in a chiselled, excessively masculine sort of way, with a slight olive tone to his skin.

‘I’m a sheriff, who the hell are you?’

‘Red Gulch doesn’t have a sheriff.’

‘I didn’t say I was the sheriff of Red Gulch,’ he retorts. ‘I’m Nathan Petrelli, sheriff of Redemption.’

Matt purses his lips. ‘You’re a long way from Redemption, sheriff.’

‘What’s your name and why’re you chasing Monroe? Don’t give me any guff about a will,’ Nathan says.

‘Matt Parkman, from Mal Que Espera. I’ve been hired to retrieve Monroe over the little matter of some stolen gold nuggets.’

‘There’s no law in Mal Que Espera,’ Nathan says. ‘You mean you were going to get the man lynched.’

‘I’m sure that’s what they had in mind but they agreed I take them to Judge Linderman instead.’

Nathan raises his eyebrows. ‘Linderman’s as likely to free a murderer and hang a drunk.’ He brushes himself down. ‘You stay the hell away from me, Parkman, you understand? Monroe’s mine.’

Matt shrugs. ‘Gotta do my job, sheriff. Try not to get under my feet.’



Matt would normally ask Monroe’s lover but the shotgun salute has put him off the idea. Instead he returns to Red Gulch and finds the same gangling boy minding horses.

‘Didn’t you find the house, Mister?’ the boy asks.

‘Oh yeah, but Mr Monroe wasn’t there. You wouldn’t have seen him would you?’

‘That the same fellah that Italian-looking sheriff is in the bar asking about?’

‘Uh, yeah.’

The boy grins. ‘He didn’t ask me.’

‘What’s your name, kid?’

‘Luke.’ He shrugs. ‘If he had’ve asked me I’d have told him that Mr Monroe’s got a farmhouse on the other side of town. Farm’s all died up but the farmhouse is there.’ He smiles guilelessly. ‘Think that’d be worth maybe a dollar to him?’

‘It’s worth two to me that he doesn’t know,’ Matt says, tossing him the money.

‘Right you are, Sir!’ Luke says, staring at the money as if hypnotised.



The farms on this side of Red Gulch barely qualify for the name. The fields are mostly dying and the ponds are black and viscous. Matt looks across at the rising peak of Hell’s Finger and is sure the presence of the mine can’t be beneficial to the dying farms. Not that he’d bet there’s any farmers here anymore. First things farmers do when things go bad is sell up to the only people willing to buy dying land – fugitives. They don’t want things that’re green and healthy. That just attracts attention. What they want is a place where the gaze will slide right over it as it seeks to find something more pleasant. Problem is Matt’s go no way of knowing which of these is the right farm. He spends s couple of hours that are alternatively boring, tiring, and far too exciting as he looks. Hell, if he wanted to go poking up nests of vipers for a living he’d be a schoolmaster. He’s about ready to abandon the whole expedition when he hears distant hoof beats.

Matt spurs his horse into a trot down the path to this final farm. From the distance he can see Nathan charging up as though he were at the head of a cavalry. Almost immediately Monroe bursts from the farmhouse and leaps onto a horse. Nathan is closer than Matt and Matt sees him level his gun at the fleeing man but when the shot rings out it is the horse that is brought down.

Matt gallops closer as Nathan approaches cautiously.

‘You alive?’ Matt asks.

‘Not for his assistance I assure you.’ Monroe stands up and offers his hand. ‘Adam Monroe.’

Matt takes his hand automatically, and is instantly yanked out the saddle by the man who looks far too slim to accomplish such a feat.

‘Terribly sorry, my need is greater than yours right now!’ Adam sings out and spurs Matt’s horse into a gallop.

‘You idiot!’ Nathan yells and he rides past in frantic pursuit.

Matt rubs his forehead. He checks the expired horse without much hope and in the saddlebags finds some basic supplies and a small purse. Feeling justified, given that the man has just stolen his horse, Matt keeps his discoveries and goes to search the farmhouse. It is not nearly as worn as the outside suggested and has food in the pantry as well as a brace of pistols and bullets upstairs by the bed. Apparently Monroe still hasn’t learnt his lesson about keeping his gun on him at all times.

Matt supposes it’s far too much to hope that there’s another horse somewhere but he checks the stable anyway. In the corner of the stable he finds no horse but instead something hidden under a tarpaulin. A three wheeled velocipede.

Matt stares at the mechanism. Who would have one of those infernal contraptions out on the frontier? Yet he supposes it must be better than walking. Surely? Feeling unpleasantly exposed Matt wheels the contraption out of the stable and on to the dirt track. The velocipede shakes and rattles as its wheel pass over the ruts and bumps in the road. Matt sighs. There is at least somewhere for him to put the stores he has liberated from Monroe and when he sits down he finds there is some padding on the seating. Matt gingerly places his feet upon the pedals and grips the steering handles tightly. It’s going to be a very long trip back to Mal Que Espera.



When Matt finally arrives in Mal Que Espera, night has fallen. Every part of him aches and throbs while his stomach is whimpering for food. Matt briefly considers returning home but at best it will have only three of the four facilities that he’s craving while the saloon is guaranteed to have all four.

Abandoning the velocipede in the street, and wishing good luck to anyone wishing to steal it, Matt drags himself into the Zeus Saloon and the warm, if rented, affectionate embrace of Madam Sandra.

‘My goodness you look like you’ve been ridden all night,’ she says, clucking her tongue.

‘I’m having a hell of a day, Sandra,’ Matt says. ‘I’m feeling in need of some care and consideration.’

‘But of course,’ she says taking his arm. ‘Now how about a nice warm bath and someone to keep you company afterwards?’

‘I would love that.’

‘Maybe a little drink and something to eat while the bath is being drawn?’ she suggests.

‘Sandra, you read my mind.’

She leads him over to a quiet table and sits him down. ‘You got a preference for company afterwards?

‘Not especially. Someone fun.’

‘Hmm.’ Sandra drums her fingers on the table. ‘We’ve got Zach; he’s very fun although I know you prefer men.’

‘How old is he?’

‘Eighteen, but he’s fun and he’s enthusiastic.’ Sandra winks at him. ‘He loves a real man.’

Matt laughs and shrugs. ‘Eighteen is pushing it a little for me but… what the hell. Zach is it.’

‘You live a little!’ Sandra says encouragingly. ‘Now you stay there and I’ll send someone over with some food and a drink while we’re drawing your bath.’

Matt sits back and tries to ignore his sore, aching muscles or his jolted bones. After about ten minutes he notices Doyle, the owner of the only hotel in town, oiling his way to Bennet the saloon owner. Probably planning on selling some titbit of gossip although whether it would be useful or not is anyone’s guess. Bennet has his hand in half the crime in Mal Que Espera and not just the saloons and the gambling, he’s rumoured to be behind a lot of the road agent activity and opium smuggling too. Matt’s got no issue with any of that apart from the road agents. Bennet’s boys are healthy and clean looking, heaven help anyone who raises a hand to one of his whores, and if people want to throw their money away on blackjack, whiskey, or opium that’s their concern. But armed theft Matt draws a line at and he’s got no compunction against keeping a friendly eye on Bennet in case the man should slip up.

‘I tell you the man is a sheriff!’ Doyle hisses.

‘And I’m telling you the man isn’t the sheriff of here,’ Bennet says smoothly. ‘If he wants to visit our little town that’s fine and dandy but he’s got no authority here, Doyle, so don’t worry your head about it. A sheriff is elected or appointed. It’s not like running a bar; you can’t simply turn up in a place and set up as sheriff.’

‘I think he’s up to something.’

‘Very likely but if it was anything to do with you he’s unlikely to have told you he’s a sheriff.’ Bennet looks around and spots Matt just as he manages to look away. ‘Matt, you’ve had dealings with what passes for the law in these parts; do you know a Sheriff Petrelli?’

Matt winces and sighs. ‘Yeah, I’m acquainted. He’s over from Redemption hunting a trickster name of Monroe.’

‘There you are Doyle,’ Bennet says magnanimously, clapping him on the back and then wiping his hand surreptitiously on his apron. ‘He’s nothing to worry about. You go back to watering your whiskey and selling rotten meat just as you normally do.’

‘Don’t worry, Sugar,’ Sandra says, putting a plate in front of Matt, ‘that’s nice and fresh from the Sanders farm, and here’s a nice bottle of whiskey. Guarantee non-watered,’ she says with a wink.

‘You’re a gem, Sandra.’



Matt staggers up the stairs for his bath and bedtime fun wondering why Nathan Petrelli would’ve chosen to come here now. Granted Monroe would have been a fool to stay in Red Gulch, and besides Petrelli probably checked it already, but why come here instead of travelling on to Mexico? That’s Matt’s plan for tomorrow, once he’s bought a new horse and restocked for the journey.

In the bedroom he finds a cute young man, wearing nothing but a smile, waiting by the filled tub. He hurls the loofah he’s holding into the water as he pads over and begins helping Matt undress.

‘Sandra says that you’re looking for some fun tonight,’ he says, waggling his eyebrows.

‘I’ve had a rough day,’ Matt says, pouting. ‘I need some cheering up.’

‘I’m sure that I can help you with that. I’m Zach. If you like me I hope you’ll ask for me the next time you visit.’

Matt sighs as his clothes are removed. ‘Are you really eighteen?’

Zach gives him a cheeky smile. ‘I’m twenty-one, but that’s just between us.’



Zach squeals and wriggles as Matt pins him down to the bed.

‘Oh my God, you’re so big!’

‘Oh my God, you’re such a liar!’ Matt laughs.

Zach laughs genuinely and grinds up against him. ‘Come on then bounty hunter, take me in!’

‘Will you keep the bloody noise down?’ someone demands from outside. A fist hammers on the door as percussion to the words.

‘Is he serious?’ Matt asks, and enters Zach.

Zach lets his eyes roll back and yelps loudly. ‘More! More! Oh God!’

‘Such a fucking liar,’ Matt laughs, thrusting into him.

‘Oh God!’

‘Can you please keep the noise down!’ bellows the man outside.

‘Wriggle some more, I like it.’

Zach squirms and writhes on the bed, being sure to squeeze around Matt’s cock and encourage his orgasm.

‘Fuck me! Fuck me!’ he screams.

‘I’m going to bloody come in there in a minute!’ yells the man outside.

Matt comes with a soft grunt and subsides. He rolls onto his side next to Zach and rubs his face. ‘I’m definitely asking for you again.’

Zach grins, winks, and lets out a loud scream as if of pleasure. As Matt giggles the man outside yells in fury and kicks open the door.

Matt dives for his gun, pulling Zach behind him for safety. In the doorway Adam Monroe, red faced and fuming, stares at him blankly for a long moment.

‘Stay…’

‘Shit!’ Monroe announces and dives back through the door.

Matt yanks on his shirt, trousers, boots, and gun belt, and then grabs his supplies before diving after Monroe.

Zach blows out his breath, collects the money Matt left on the side, and cautiously leans out of the room, only to nearly collide with a dark man waving a pair of six shooters.

‘Where did Monroe go?’ he demands.

‘Who’s Monroe?’

‘Blond, blue eyes, he was in the room next to this. I saw in the window.’

‘Oh, he ran off. In his underwear,’ Zach says helpfully. ‘Mr Parkman, the mercenary, was after him.’

‘Damn it!’



Matt is thrilled to see that, in his haste to run, Monroe has grabbed an entirely different horse, leaving Matt to mount his own animal and make chase. From the scattered goods and angry citizens Monroe can’t have gone past more than a few minutes ago. But Matt’s not fool enough to charge headlong after the man; let him run his horse out. Matt’s enough of a tracker to follow.



Monroe is headed into the desert. Matt buttons up his shirt as he rides and wishes that he was heading somewhere else. It makes sense of course, he means to pass into Mexico and hide out until things quieten down. That should stop Nathan Petrelli, Matt saw him run out in the street as he rode past, but it won’t stop Matt. Sure riding into Mexico and riding back with Monroe captive might raise eyebrows officially but officially it won’t have happened. A few dollars here and there and nobody in Mexico will have even heard of Adam Monroe.

Monroe will have to stop soon and make camp. The desert at night is too cold for anything else. Matt looks up at the hungry moon overhead and decides the day has already been long enough. He sets his horse trotting towards a little oasis nearby and mourns a night’s sleep in his own bed.

When he reaches the oasis, Matt fills his canteens with water before drinking himself. The temperature is continuing to drop and small animals and insects are beginning to creep out into the open. Matt moves away from the edge of the water to build a small fire, a circular ring for the wood he’s brought with him and an attached square for coals to cook on. He fills a small pan from his pack with water and slices vegetables into it along with chunks of dried meat. Although he ate earlier on he knows to his cost that in the desert it’s better to eat while you have the chance. He’s stirring his makeshift stew when he hears a horse nearby. Matt carefully puts his hand on his gun and moves behind a tree.

Nathan Petrelli approaches the oasis. He stares at Matt’s horse tethered to a tree, and then to the cooking fire, and draws his gun.

‘Oh don’t be an ass,’ Matt says. ‘I’m not Monroe.’

‘I did work that one out for myself,’ Nathan says dryly, looking around as he tries to locate Matt. ‘Where are you?’

‘Not a sentence I like to hear from a man waving a gun around.’

Nathan rolls his eyes and holsters his gun and gets down of his horse. ‘Happy now?’

Matt waves a hand to indicate his position. ‘I’d be happier if you hadn’t turned up. You’re way out of your jurisdiction sheriff.’

‘I’d have had Monroe by now if you hadn’t chased him into that saloon!’

‘I didn’t,’ Matt says. ‘I was in there minding my own business when Monroe started hammering on the door demanding we keep the noise down.’

Nathan blinks at him. ‘Do you really expect me to believe that?’

‘I don’t care what you believe. You’re the one in the desert with a lame horse, what looks like no food, and hardly any water.’

‘There’s no desert in Redemption,’ Nathan says with a shrug. ‘It’s not really my terrain.’

‘Is it Monroe’s? Because he came riding out here with even less than you.’

‘How did he manage that?’ Nathan asks, sitting down and filling his flask with water.

‘He was in his underwear.’

Nathan raises his eyebrows. ‘You’re serious?’

‘Only reason he got a head start on me is that I stopped to pull some clothes on and he didn’t.’

Nathan rubs his hands together briskly. ‘He’s going to freeze if it gets any colder.’

‘That’s what happens when you ride into the desert in your underwear,’ Matt says with a shrug. ‘You need him alive?’

‘Don’t you?’

Matt shrugs and raises his voice. ‘It’s his decision. He can freeze to death in the night or come and cuddle up to the fire here and borrow one of these blankets I’ve got on my horse.’

‘He’s probably miles away by now.’

Matt shakes his head. ‘I don’t think so. This is the only oasis around. He’s not that dumb is he?’

‘No,’ Adam’s voice says as he troops over the sand to them. He’s barefoot and wrapped in a horse blanket. ‘I am freezing bloody cold though so give me a blanket and a spot by the fire, darling.’

Matt looks at Nathan, who reddens. ‘Uh huh,’ Matt says. ‘Well you’re my prisoner so you get some heat when I’ve got you secure.’

‘Is that necessary?’ Nathan asks.

‘Yeah. Sit down English and stick your feet out so I can tie your legs together.’

Adam grabs a blanket from the horse and sits down next to the fire, with Matt and Nathan on his other side. He sticks his legs out and leans over the pot. ‘Shall I serve?’

Matt leans over to tie his legs together. ‘Sure. Amenable sort of prisoner aren’t you?’

Monroe smiles cherubically. ‘I do try.’



A soft, mournful howl invades Matt’s dream: some lonely predator calling to the moon. Matt opens his eyes and sees the stars. Underneath him he feels gritty coldness. Matt takes a handful of soil and lets it run through his fingers. Not soil, sand.

Matt sits up with difficulty for his left hand is weighed down. There is nothing to be seen but the stark purity of sand and scrubby cacti adorning the horizon. The moon hangs huge in the inky sky unfettered by intruding buildings.

The desert is deserted. Matt almost smiles at that, almost. The canteen is full of water but it won’t go far with two of them. Two. Matt kicks the man handcuffed to him.

‘Petrelli, wake up. I’m not hauling you around.’

Nathan opens his eyes. He looks around. He looks at the handcuffs binding them together. He checks his pockets for the key.

‘Fuck.’

‘Yeah, you got that right.’

‘What the hell happened?’ Nathan demands.

‘Gee genius I guess he drugged the food when he served it,’ Matt retorts.

‘What the hell did you let him do that for?’

‘I was tying him up, something you for some reason were incredibly reluctant to do! If anyone should’ve been keeping an eye on him it’s you!’

Nathan pokes Matt in the chest with his free hand. ‘I was doing fine until you came along!’

‘Oh I must’ve missed that part while he was constantly escaping!’

Nathan yanks Matt’s belt off and uses the prong to pick the lock to the handcuffs, which he stows in his pocket. ‘You’re a damn amateur, Parkman and you’re going to get us both killed!’

‘I probably saved your damn life last night!’

‘If it wasn’t for you my life wouldn’t have needed saving!’

They’re screaming in each other’s faces, then shoving, then hands are tugging at shirt buttons, and thrusting down trousers.

‘You’re a self-important asshole!’

‘Every time I look around you’re in the damn way!’

Matt shoves Nathan onto the ground and bites at his lips as Nathan’s fingers knead his ass and claw at his back. They jolt against each other, cocks duelling, and thighs moistening with each other’s sweat. Someone fires first and then the other returns fire, and their groins slick and slide with semen and sweat.

Nathan bangs his head against Matt’s shoulder.

‘You tell anyone about this and you’re a dead man,’ Matt says.

Nathan shoves him off and sits up. ‘Whom do you suggest I tell? Oh good evening Mister Rattlesnake do you know this gentleman and I just had sex?’

Matt snorts. ‘Isn’t it about time you told me what the deal with Monroe is?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you should be at home. You got no legitimate business being here chasing after Monroe whether he’s a trickster or a murderer. That’s not what sheriffs do. That’s what bounty hunters do.’ Matt sits up and shivers as he splashes water over himself. ‘So what’s the deal?’ He dresses quickly, glad that although Monroe has taken both the horses he at least has left their clothing and the blankets.

‘I don’t have to explain myself to you.’

Matt hands Nathan his clothes and frowns. ‘What’s he wearing? Surely he’s not gone riding off still in his underwear?’

A blush momentarily highlights Nathan’s cheeks before vanishing. ‘I brought his clothes. He probably took those.’

Matt blows out his cheeks. ‘So… you and him?’

‘I’ve no intention of discussing this with you,’ Nathan says flatly.

‘Fine but he’s stranded you in the desert. I’m pretty sure you can do better than someone who leaves you to die,’ Matt says dryly.

Nathan finishes dressing and tidies his hair. ‘We’re not that far in that we’re in danger of dying are we?’

‘Any other day, yeah, today not so much.’ Matt spreads the blanket over himself.

‘Why?’

‘Sorry, I’ve no intention of discussing that with you. Now get some sleep.’



Matt wakes to the smell of bacon frying.

‘Is bacon a good idea when water’s likely to be scarce?’ he asks, rubbing his head.

‘It’s the only thing I know how to cook,’ Nathan scowls. ‘So why aren’t we going to die today?’

‘Because a convoy is setting out from Mal Que Espera today heading for Mexico,’ Matt says, accepting a plate. ‘We need to get to the main wagon route and hitch a ride with them. They’ll get to Mexico before Adam does.’

‘They ride all night in shifts,’ Nathan agrees. ‘We need a compass.’

‘You don’t have a compass?’

‘Do you?’ Matt shrugs sheepishly. ‘Mine was in the saddlebag on the horse.’

‘Give me your watch.’ Nathan holds the watch up in front of him and adjusts it so that the hour hand points towards the sun. While holding it in that manner he mentally cuts the angle between the hour hand and twelve o’clock in two. ‘That’s South,’ he says, pointing.
‘Well we need to go North,’ Matt says. ‘That was pretty impressive though. Where’d you learn that?’

‘From my tutor, we weren’t all raised by shopkeepers you know.’

‘Personally I was raised by my parents,’ Matt says dryly.

Nathan raises his eyebrows. ‘You know very well what I mean.’

‘Yeah, you were raised by tutors, apparently.’ Matt stands up and starts gathering their meagre possessions together. ‘I meant what I said about Monroe. He’s clearly only out for himself.’

‘I’m gratified you think that I’m not.’

‘I think you’re too smart to be this dumb over some pretty boy who’s going to end up shot or hanged any day.’

‘What’re you intending to do with him?’ Nathan asks.

‘I told you, I’m taking him to Judge Linderman.’

Nathan frowns as he refills the canteen. ‘The man is erratic at best. There’s no telling what he’s likely to do.’

‘That’s the law’s problem,’ Matt says. ‘It was that or hand him over to a bunch of irate miners in a lynching mood.’

‘He probably deserves it.’

Matt grins at him. ‘Is that anything for a lawman to say?’



It’s early afternoon when they see the covered wagons approaching. The sun is beating down like a fist as they wave at it to stop.

‘What’s this?’ Samuel demands.

‘You can let us on, or I can throw you off,’ Nathan says, dragging himself up on the wagon.

‘Pardon my friend,’ Matt says winningly, ‘we’re a little warm and thirsty. He will do it though, and I’ll help.’

Samuel looks pained but moves aside to let them sit down. ‘I suppose we should try to help the less fortunate if we can. I think a sermon would nourish your souls more than water.’

‘Can we try the water first?’ Matt asks.


They climb down from the wagon, relieved to have finally reached Mexico.

Nathan stretches as Matt fends off Samuel’s invitations to come to their evening service.

‘He’ll be in a whorehouse.’

‘Does the man have no fill?’ Matt asks, looking around.

‘Not for that,’ Nathan says dryly.

‘Well I need a drink.’ Matt stretches. ‘There’s a nice bar not too far away. When I say “nice” I mean honestly better than anything in Mal Que Espera and half the price.’

‘Sounds good.’



‘So what’re you going to do when we find him?’ Matt asks as sits down with his beer.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean are you going to kill him, are you going to help me take him to Sol Oscuro, or are you going to run off with him like one of those damn fool women who fall in love with bandits?’

Nathan raises his eyebrow. ‘Have I done anything to make you think I’d do something like that?’

‘Well you’ve been chasing the man all over California.’

Nathan shrugs and sips his beer. ‘We don’t always do things that make sense even to ourselves.’

Matt leans back in his chair. ‘I got to ask you again, what’re you going to do when we find him?’

‘I forgot your first name.’

‘Matt.’

‘Matt,’ Nathan says. ‘I’m not a fool; I’ve just been acting like one. Naturally I’m going to help you take him into custody. Although I can’t say I’d be thrilled if Linderman has one of his random moments and sentences him to hang.’

‘Look Nathan, if you can’t… if you’d rather I handled it then I understand.’

Nathan drains his glass and puts it down. ‘No. So let’s go find him.’

‘There’s no shortage of cathouses in town.’

‘How many of them have male whores?’

‘Okay, not that many,’ Matt admits.



The brothel is housed in a large, airy casa near the border. Matt walks around the back as Nathan enters the front. There’s a risk of course that Monroe might be armed but he’s given no indication of violence. He certainly could’ve killed them both while they were unconscious easily enough.

Matt weighs the net in his hands and wonders if he should’ve gone in himself instead, but he’s been to this part of Mexico plenty of times and there’s a risk he’d be recognised. Muffled shouts shake him from his reverie and when he hears the window thrown open he manages to run forward into position.

Adam drops from an upper window, lands badly on his ankle, and tries to hobble forward. A net, with weighted corners, wraps around him, tripping him up and knocking him over.

‘That’s about enough from you,’ Matt says, pushing him flat.

‘I have money!’

‘Good for you.’ Matt ties Adam’s ankles together.

‘Let me out of the damned net if you’re going to tie me up!’

Matt wraps the rope around Adam’s legs, tying it at the knees. ‘I don’t think I’m going to do that. You, Mr Monroe, are too dangerous not to be restrained.’

‘This is inhuman!’

Matt looks up as Nathan walks around the building and comes over to them. ‘I’ve hired a coach to take us back to California.’

‘Nathan, dearheart, please don’t think I didn’t want to spend time with you!’ Adam pleads.

Matt continues winding the rope around him and tying it at strategic places. ‘Do you want me to gag him?’ he asks Nathan. ‘He’s the type to talk all the way back.’

‘Won’t the net get in the way?’

‘There’s absolutely no need to gag me! Gentlemen please…’

Matt unhooks a couple of links on the net and pulls the net over Adam’s head. He takes a ball gag out of his pocket and raises his eyebrows as Adam firmly shuts his mouth. ‘That’s a might childish.’

Nathan steps forward and blocks off Adam’s nose with his fingers. Adam’s eyes bulge for a moment before he opens his mouth. Matt pushes the ball gag into Adam’s mouth as Nathan takes his hand away.

‘If you behave and don’t take too much of a fuss we’ll take this out before we get too far,’ Matt says, reaching behind him to tighten the straps. He pulls Adam up onto his shoulder and then turns to Nathan. ‘Okay?’

‘I’ll live.’

Adam squirms and kicks as he’s carried through the street but the local police accept Nathan’s badge, and Matt’s bribe, even going so far as to give them an escort to the coach that Nathan has hired.

‘You mind if I ride up front?’ Nathan asks.

‘I could put a bag on his head,’ Matt offers.

Adam makes a loud but muffled protest.

‘I’d rather go up front,’ Nathan says dryly. He closes the door behind him, leaving Matt to settle down opposite Adam.

‘Now try to relax,’ Matt says, leaning back and closing his eyes. ‘It’s a long ride home.’



‘If you’d untie me I’d be ever so grateful,’ Adam says as Matt opens the canteen. ‘I’m sure that men of the world such as ourselves can come to an arrangement.’

‘I’d be tempted, Mr Monroe, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re intrinsically untrustworthy.’ Matt puts the canteen to Adam’s lips and tips it up.

Adam gulps down water and licks his lips. ‘If Nathan’s been telling you some sort of stories… I didn’t catch your name.’

‘Matt Parkman,’ Matt says, screwing the lid back on the canteen. ‘Here’s the thing Mr Monroe, you could’ve had a nice thing cashing in the Mexican miners’ gold but you were greedy or impatient, I don’t know which, and that’s why you’re in this mess.’

‘Because of some gold they’re not allowed to mine in the first place?’

Matt quickly pushes the gag back in place. ‘Doesn’t mean you were allowed to steal it. We’ll be in Sol Oscuro in an hour or so. I’ll pick up my reward and hand you over to the court. Judge Linderman always makes space for attractive looking prisoners.’

Adam’s eyes widen in alarm.



Judge Linderman frowns as he leafs through his hundred year old law book.

‘I heard that when he gets sent updated laws he burns them,’ Nathan murmurs to Matt.

‘I’m surprised he doesn’t have that thing memorised by now.’

Judge Linderman closes the book and shoves it away. ‘I’m unable to find a law against stealing gold from Mexicans, therefore the case is dismissed.’

Matt blinks.

Nathan raises his eyebrows. ‘He can’t find a law against stealing gold from Mexicans? Doesn’t that come under general theft?’

‘Apparently not.’

‘Gentlemen, so nice to have shared this time together,’ Adam says cheerily. ‘Now I’ll take my leave and wish you the best.’

‘Are you okay?’ Matt asks Nathan as they stroll outside.

‘Remember when I said I didn’t want to discuss this?’

Matt smiles easily. ‘Fair enough. Would you like to go and get a drink before… Oh shit!’

Nathan follows his gaze to an adjacent lot where a mass of people are gathered around a tree. A single blond head can be seen being jostled along towards the tree. Nathan breaks into a run as a rope is thrown over a branch of the tree. As Nathan tries to fight through the crowd Matt runs around the side and aims his pistols carefully.

Adam is hoisted up into the air, legs kicking, and his face turning purple.

Matt fires. The rope splits and unfurls. Nathan reaches the tree and pulls his guns, keeping the crowd back as Matt fires again. Adam falls, crashing down onto the grass.

‘That’s it!’ Nathan snarls. ‘You made you point. He’s going and he’s not coming back.’

Matt comes around next to him, keeping one gun out, and hauls Adam to his feet. ‘Just don’t say anything,’ he warns.

‘Alright,’ the head miner says quietly. ‘You take him. If we see him again, he dies.’

‘Agreed,’ Matt says, hauling Adam away.



‘Are you sure you don’t want to just send him off?’ Matt asks, as Nathan gets in the coach with Adam.

‘No, he’ll probably just come back and try to talk his way out of it,’ Nathan says with a sigh. ‘He’s the type.’

‘Maybe I’ll see you around,’ Matt says, offering his hand.

‘Just don’t go getting in my way,’ Nathan laughs.

Comments

[dragon6593.livejournal.com]

I love wild and wooly western tales. And this is one of the best. The sex scene at the brothel with Matt and Zach was hot and hilarious.

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! :D The prompt was great and I had a ton of fun with it. I thought it'd be a nice change for Matt to have some straightforward fun in the brothel without any angst or unrequieted love.

<333

[leadaisy.livejournal.com]

The part where Adam is yelling at them to quiet down made me laugh. What, do you think your in a church Adam? XD Such a brat! :P

Fun read! Love it! <333

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Hee! Thanks honey :D Adam's having a rough day what with being chased all over the place and now people are having loud sex damn it! :P

<333

[boudecia7.livejournal.com]

Hee hee! This story is so much fun and full of adventure :D. Poor old Adam, I can never feel very sorry for his misfortunes :P

Very sexy fun! Loved it! <333

[kethni.livejournal.com]

Thanks babe, and thanks for all your help :)

Adam tends to bring his misfortunes on himself :P And he generally wriggles out of them.

<333

[arunicenroll.livejournal.com]

I love the ways you bring Matt and Nathan together and how they clash throughout the story. And Matt's sex scene with Zach was so funny, especially when it turns out Adam's the annoyed guy. And the surprise background between Nathan and Adam was just the sort of twist I was hoping for! Thanks for writing this, it's great! :D