Fic: Dastardly Deeds and Train Tracks
Title: Dastardly Deeds and Train Tracks
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: PG-13 I suppose
Summary: Sylar’s evil!
Disclaimer: Nope, I don’t own em’
AN: Inspired by and dedicated to 00smut and induced by cold medication and fever.
Sylar Gray was an evil man. He was proud of the fact.
Matthew Parkman was a good man. He felt no pride, just a sense of justice and right.
What do these two men have in common? They are fighting for the same little strip of land called Old York. A little town far out west, Old York was hardly a bustling metropolis. However, it was home to one of the biggest gold mines this side of the coast. Sylar wanted the mine for himself and was willing to pay top dollar for it. Matt wanted to protect the mines from his grubby paws, protect the men who worked hard in that mine to provide for their families and kept the town from dissolving in the shifting dust and tumbleweeds.
Tomorrow there was going to be a town meeting to vote on whether or not to sell the mine to Sylar. Sylar knew that there was no way the town would sell the mine with Parkman whispering in their ears and shouting to their faces not to sell. Granted, he could just take the mine but wanted to avoid making that much of an effort if possible. All he needed to do was figure out a way to keep Parkman from that meeting. He’d already tried sending some men to deal with him but they always came back thoroughly whipped, if they came back at all. He was growing desperate.
“Sir,” a minion came up behind him, shaking in fear.
“What?” Sylar said exasperatedly.
“W-we have news on Matthew Parkman.”
“Yes,” Sylar said, turning to look at the man with a venomous look.
“He…he’s involved with the town doctor,” the little man stuttered.
“The town doctor you say? Hmmm…,” Sylar turned away and stroked his chin thoughtfully, “I wonder just how much Parkman cares for his little physician?”
“Ready the men,” he said impatiently, “I feel in need of a doctor’s visit.”
The only thing Matthew cared about more then the town was the town’s only doctor, Mohinder Suresh. He’d come to the town just three years ago, all foreign and exotic. As beautiful as he was brilliant, Matt had loved him from the first moment. It took Mohinder a second glance to see the attractiveness of the rugged lawman. Matt was large and broad and strong. There wasn’t a delicate inch on him. More often than not, he was covered in dust but Mohinder quickly found the gritty slide of the dirt against his skin as he kissed him appealing.
“I’m gonna go check on Bennet’s cattle,” Matt told his lover, “I want to make sure The Company’s rustlers haven’t decided to go for a second round.”
“Of course,” Mohinder said, following him to the door, “You’ll be home for dinner?
“Yeah, I shouldn’t be too long.”
Matt paused a moment to kiss him deeply before untying his horse from the bar in front of their house/ Mohinder’s office. Mohinder waved him off, standing on the porch and watching until he couldn’t see him anymore. He went back into his office, sitting down to review Claire Bennet’s file. The poor girl must think she’s indestructible; this was her second set of stitches in a month. He heard a knock at the door and he got up to see who it was, opening the door but only seeing a large shadow surrounded by sunshine.
“Hello Dr. Suresh,” the shadow said evilly as it stepped into the doorway, revealing the harsh features of Sylar Gray, “It’s good to finally meet you.”
Mohinder didn’t even have a chance to cry out before the world slipped into darkness.
When Matt came home that night, he was surprised to see the house completely dark. There should be a light. He rushed up the steps, throwing the door open and not even caring if the loud banging of it against the wall disturbed the neighbors. There were papers everywhere, furniture tipped over, and he could just make out the blood staining the floor in the moonlight. There was a note on Mohinder’s desk and Matt nearly ran over to read it, praying to god that he could focus long enough to read the words.
“I have him. Don’t go to the meeting and maybe you’ll get him back.”
Sylar.
Matt crumpled the note in his hand, scowling with rage. He tossed the slip of paper on the floor and stomped out of the house. He had a villain to find.
In the end he didn’t find Sylar but he did find his number one minion, Adam Monroe, in the early morning.
“Where is he?” he growled, thrusting the man’s face into the water trough for the tenth time.
He pulled the man’s sputtering face out, “You are going to tell me what Sylar did with Mohinder or I am going to kill you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Monroe defied.
Matt threw him on the ground and pulled out his gun, “Try me.”
Monroe continued to look up at him, sneering in opposition. Matt cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. The gun cracked loudly into the morning, just barely louder than Monroe’s scream of surprise as a bulled lodged itself into the ground between his legs.
“Want to try that again?” Matt asked calmly, moving the muzzle up to his face.
“T-the tracks! The tracks at the edge of Bishop’s farm. Sylar took him there.”
Matt whipped the butt of the gun across the man’s temple, knocking him unconscious. He didn’t want him to run back to Sylar and let him know that Matt was on to him. He jumped on his horse and rode straight to Bishop’s place. The sun was already high in the sky, the town meeting was just an hour away, and Matt was still riding the tracks, searching for Mohinder.
Suddenly he saw black boots peeking out from around a small curve and he hopped off the horse and took off. Rounding the curve he saw Mohinder, lying chained to the tracks.
“Mohinder!” he cried, kneeling beside him, “Are you alright.”
“I am now that you are here my love,” Mohinder said, staring up at him with tear filled eyes, “I was so frightened.”
“It’s alright,” Matt soothed, brushing rumpled curls off his blood smeared forehead, “I’m going to get you out of here.”
They shared a quick kiss that was interrupted the peal of a train’s whistle. It was coming towards them, fast. Matt glanced at Mohinder’s face, seeing his panic reflected in those dark eyes.
“I’ll be right back.”
He ran around, searching for something to break the chain with. He didn’t have anything in his pack on the horse so he searched the ground. He ran back to Mohinder, wielding the large rock he found.
“Hurry my darling,” Mohinder urged, fear tinting his voice.
Matt brought the rock down on the lock once, twice, and on the third time the lock smashed open. Matt quickly untangled Mohinder and swept him into his arms and off the tracks. They felt the whoosh of air as the train rushed pass them.
“Oh Matthew,” Mohinder breathed, “I knew you would save me. You’re so strong and handsome and smart and brave and I knew you wouldn’t let that rascal hurt me. If only there were more men in the world just like you…”
“Matthew Parkman!” Mohinder yelled from the doorway of Molly’s room, “What in the world are you doing?”
“What?! I’m just telling Molly a bedtime story,” Matt said, turning to face Mohinder sheepishly.
Mohinder rolled his eyes and fisted his hands on his hips. Beside him, Matt heard Molly snort with laughter.
“How does it end Matt,” she urged.
“The next time a villain comes to town, Matt get’s captured and Mohinder has to save him. They all live happily ever after. The end,” Mohinder said exasperatedly, coming into the room to kiss Molly’s forehead good night.
“Good night doll-face,” Matt said, kissing her forehead and pulling the covers up to her chin, tucking her in tightly.
“Night guys,” Molly yawned, “Will you tell me how Mohinder saves Matt tomorrow?”
“Of course darling,” Mohinder responded, flicking the light off and shutting her door halfway.
The made their way to their bedroom and Mohinder rounded on Matt, “What in the world were you thinking?”
“What?” Matt said, holding his hands up defensively.
“You made me into a helpless, swooning maiden,” Mohinder snapped.
“Many things you may be Mohinder,” Matt said slowly, stepping forward so that he was pressed up against Mohinder, “But maiden is not one of them.”
“But I’m helpless and swooning?” Mohinder asked, raising his eyebrows and nose haughtily.
“It’s a bedtime story Mohinder. That’s all. You and I both know that if we were in that situation it would be my ass tied to the train tracks.”
“As long as you know that,” Mohinder said a bit more calmly.
“I do,” Matt replied.
Suddenly a wicked smile crossed Mohinder’s face. He walked over to the dresser and pulled out one of Matt’s ties, “So why don’t you show me how to work knots. After all, how can I be expected to save you if I can’t tie you up?”