They say the secret to an epic western tale is to start with a horse. Some noble steed that is a symbol of the good being brought into a town or county. Upon the noble steed will be the hero of the tale - usually one of the classic archetypes of westerns like the sheriff, the rustler, a maverick, or even the change-of-heart bandit. The classics will describe how the horse kicks up the dust as it is ridden into town and how everyone looks to the protagonist in wonder.

However for a story to have just one hero, one person who saves the damsel or sets the town straight is a grave injustice to the way societies actually work. A real hero is actually a martyr, who someone spurs the indifferent and oppressed to rise up. Their actions show the common people that the previously assumed impossible is possible. They are there to inspire and are used to stimulate a change in unfortunate situations.

This is the story of not just one, but two heroes. There is no horses starting this story since one of the heroes already lives in town and can't afford a horse, so we're going to start with him.

His name is Kurt and he lived in a boarding home over the saloon where he worked as a server in the county of Lima. Lima was a bustling pioneer town. It was established as a central point to numerous cattle ranches and local coal mines in the central till plains of what would become Ohio one day. West of the Plateaus and north of the bluegrass and Ohio river valley. It had just been a simple town before with a general store, a livery stable, and the saloon, but when an eager politician saw it as an excellent spot to have a railroad town, it boomed. Now it was a constant home to a few hundred residents and served the ranch hands and miners of the area. It boasted a post office, land office, carpenters store, school house, blacksmith shop, several chapels, local cemetery, laundry house, a newer livery stable, granary, train station, doctors office, jailhouse, meeting hall, tack shop, two general stores, and a renowned bordello which was built up beside the saloon.

Kurt spent his evenings working as a bartender and server in the saloon with his best friend Rachel. During the day he worked as a tailor out of his room in an effort to try and pay his bills and send money to his family. His dad, stepmom, and stepbrother worked a ranch now far out of Lima where Kurt had grown up. The ranch had done very well, specializing in some of the best cattle in the area, but when Kurt's dad had gotten sick, it fell on hard times and Kurt took out a loan from one of the two Lima power families in order to make sure his dad didn't lose the ranch.

When the town was booming, two families rose to power in the area - the Karofsky's and the Smythe's. Both families came from old money and both heavily invested in the development of Lima.

Now both families owned most of Lima in one way or another - either by owning the shops, or owning the people through loansharking.

The only place that the families didn't have a their fingers in was the bordello, and neither was interested in owning it either, though both families held it in high respect. The matriarchs of both families wouldn't have accepted their husbands having stock in the bordello even though they probably knew that their husbands used their services. Most of that respect was due to the madam, one Quinn Fabray, who made sure her ladies of pleasure were of high quality and manners.

Kurt got along well with Quinn. She demanded respect really and Kurt did most of the tailoring for her and her girls who she insisted on keeping in the height of fashion. Kurt enjoyed designing and creating the dresses for the girls as it allowed him to dabble in what he really wanted to do - escape to New York to create clothing for those in truly high society. It had been his plan originally, before the fiasco with his father, then everything changed. Now Kurt could barely put away any coin to move away, and so his dreams were on hold.

It didn't help that the Karofsky's, who owned the saloon and the boarding rooms above it, kept increasing the rent. Every time

Kurt thought he could start budgeting to put money away in savings, his rent increased and he found himself short again. If he was a more robust man, he would find work as a ranch hand during part of the year and be able to put away a lot more, but he found the long outdoor hours unwanted, limited food choices distasteful, and having to camp with many other men who weren't comfortable with the fact that he was gay was out of the question.

He was lucky he hadn't been beaten and dragged out by horses into the wilds a long time ago given his sexuality. He still was given his share of verbal insults and the occasional shove, but it wasn't as bad as he heard it could be for gay men in other areas.

Lima business was always steady, but it was the annual cowpoke competition that really brought business to the town. Ranch hands, cowboys, bandits, and anyone who felt they had the skills to win competitions in riding, shooting, roping, or rustling crowded the town. Big prizes were put up to the best of the best in all the competitions. Last year Kurt had tried to sign up for some of the competitions, as he had grown up on a ranch and felt he had some decent talent, but his application had been blocked by the Smythe's. Kurt didn't know why and didn't ask. If the Smythe's or Karofsky's made a decision, you abided by it. That was the law of the land.

That unspoken law was compounded by the fact that David Karofsky, son of the patriarch of the Karofsky family, was the sheriff, and Sebastian Smythe, son of the Smythe patriarch, was the main deputy. They employed only those willing to abide by their families wills as their lawmen, and ensured the absolute rule of their families in the town. Quite simply, you didn't cross them.

Kurt was always kept busy during the competitions anyhow as the saloon was always full of competitors and fans. Most were lousy tippers, so he never got much for dealing with their drunken debaucheries. Rachel got more in tips, but she was a woman and had to put up with their flirting. It was amazing how many men thought they could impress her into bed just by giving her a big tip, and how many of those men were ridiculously rude when they found out she wasn't going to put out.

Thankfully the bordello was next door and Quinn was always more than happy to take in a drunk with money to spare. As she said, they wouldn't ask for much and were willing to pay more than the going rate. She had no problem earning a profit. She would certainly earn a tidy profit at the upcoming cowpoke competitions as this year she had issued brothel tokens to be given to winners of the individual competitions. Quinn knew how to run her business, and giving out a prize like that for free ultimately ensured that the business returned threefold.

As it happened, Kurt was spending this particular afternoon putting the final touches on a new set of dresses for the bordello ladies. The competition would be starting up in less than a week and Quinn wanted her ladies to showcase their "assets" in fresh style. Kurt was quite pleased with the results. He kept tabs on the high society ladies who stopped through the town and made notes of what they were wearing. He had bought the richest looking burgundy satin he could find and created streamlined dresses that would make the ladies look proper until they slid a leg out of the slit he had placed on the right side. The chests of the dresses had built in corsets to accentuate the bosoms, and just the right amount of cleavage would be showing. The sleeves were puffed around the shoulders and led to the elbows where they would meet up with matching gloves. Quinn had declared Kurt a genius when she had saw one of the finished products.

A knock sounded on his door and he set down the pins he was using on his single bed which was doubling as a workspace in the small room. He presumed it would be Rachel who had been hounding him all this past week, wanting him to help her prep the saloon early to prepare for the competition and the increased business it would bring. Rachel may have well have been a sister to him with the nagging and occasional slights, but he was fond of her and they both shared a secret love of music and theatre.

Rachel had been courted on and off by Kurt's step brother Finn, and currently their relationship was in a state of limbo while Finn was busy on the ranch. Kurt really just wanted them to get on with the inevitability that would be marriage between Finn and Rachel, if only to not have to hear each of them worry about the other. Rachel could move out to the ranch and not have to worry about the constant attention from the leering old coots that frequented the saloon. Finn would have the love and care of a woman who appreciated his simple and humble nature.

Kurt opened the door with a jerk of his hand, the door was stiff and never put in quite right so it took a good sharp force to open it on the first try. His gaze was met not by Rachel, but by the sheriff, David Karofsky. David stood slightly taller than Kurt, his height increased by a black derby hat sitting atop his short brown hair. His sheriff badge glinted as the light from Kurt's window hit it where it was pinned to David's brown notched vest.

Kurt swallowed uncertainly, knowing that if David had come calling, it wasn't going to be anything that he wanted to hear. He took a step back and without being invited, David took a step forward, looking over Kurt's one room home with clear disdain, his nose turning up and his lips puckering sourly.

David's eyes glanced on the pile of dresses and he snickered, "Going to join them at the whorehouse? Hate to break it to you lady, but you have the wrong parts."

Kurt steadied himself and took in a sharp, irritated breath. He had so much he could say back to David, but couldn't risk it. He owed his family too much in loans, and his job and home were both owned by them. He wouldn't say anything kind though, he decided that a long time ago in dealing with David, so he instead remained silent, waiting for David to state why he had come.

David scanned over the rest of the room briefly before turning his sights back on Kurt, "You've got to give us some more in rent."

Kurt blanched and his jaw dropped. His rent had just been increased last month. He had to cut back on his food supply in order to make sure he kept the place as it was. "What do you mean? It just did increase. I can't afford more!"

David smirked, seemingly enjoying Kurt's displeasure. "Town is going to be short on rooms with the competition. Supply and demand. Demand has gone up and supply is low so we're increasing the rent. You pay or you get out. 10 coin more."

Kurt winced and put a hand to the temple of his head. That was more than all of his groceries for the month. There was no way. He had already negotiated a price with Quinn so he couldn't ask for more for the dresses either.

"Look. I just don't make enough between both jobs David. There has to be someway we can negotiate this. I'm still paying back the loan for my dad's ranch too." Kurt put on his best pleading eyes as he looked to the broader man, inwardly acknowledging how disgusted he was with himself for doing it.

David's lips pursed and he licked them over, looking thoughtfully at Kurt which in turn made Kurt inwardly cringe. "Well you could always do me some favors."

Kurt's browed perked up on his forehead, "Favors? I could do some tailoring for you free of charge. Sure."

That set David off into a bit of a raucous laugh, "Oh no!" The brutish man winked at Kurt, "No. I meant FAVOURS."

Once again, Kurt's jaw dropped and he glanced side to side to see if he was really the only one hearing this. Kurt felt a pit grow in stomach and he looked blankly at David, both eyebrows up. Kurt knew what it meant, he just wasn't about to say it, especially not to David, who up to this point, Kurt assumed was straighter than an arrow.

David's voice dropped into a low growl as he kept his steel gaze on Kurt, "You think about it. Pay me or play with me. Your choice princess. Rent is due Friday one way or another."

Kurt made himself nod. It was a slow and pathetic gesture as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just occurred. David moved to leave and then stopped, turning and stabbing a finger square in the center of Kurt's chest which forced Kurt to exhale sharply.

"You tell anyone I made you this deal and you can expect to be dragged behind my carriage until all that's left of you is a red streak on the ground. Got it?"

Kurt rapidly nodded this time. Threats he understood.

David left then and Kurt closed the door behind him before weakly dropping to the ground, cradling his knees against his chest and hiding his face in-between their peaks. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep on in this hell. His dreams of overcoming his circumstances seemed to shrink more and more all the time and he was having to face the reality that he might always be stuck here, no better than an indentured servant, and a shell of a person.

He had thought once before of ignoring the debts and just catching a train to New York and escaping it all, until he reminded himself of his family. Other's had tried fleeing their debts in Lima and escaping to start a new life elsewhere, only to discover that their families had ended up being the ones to pay the debt – with extra interest in the way of beatings, or rape. He would never put his family in harm's way like that, and because of it, he was trapped in Lima.

Trapped in Lima with David Karofsky no less. The man-child David had made his life hell in the schoolyard, leading the other boys in taunting and teasing. Now David was one of the most powerful men in Lima and made his life no less worse. The insults from his childhood had continued, now compounded with financial demands, and now this.

Maybe it was a joke. A prank to make Kurt look like a fool in front of others. Make him appear like a predatory gay if he accepted... but what choice was he going to have? He couldn't take out another loan and Rachel had no money of her own to borrow to Kurt.

Kurt would have to find the money; there was no way around it. Maybe Quinn had something else he could do to earn the cash and he could ask for an advance. Doing David a "favor" wasn't even a real option and he knew it. Even if David had been serious, Kurt didn't know north from south when it came to sex. It's not like there was anyone around Lima who was gay and out except for him to ask.

Kurt rubbed the forming tears out of his eyes and forced himself to stand up and continue working on the dresses. A few more pins to remove, and he was done. He carefully scooped them up in both hands and maneuvered his way out, making sure he opened the door beforehand so he didn't have to worry about opening it with his hands full.

Kurt slowly walked next door to the bordello where the girls in the lobby room cooed to him. They were all wearing different gowns that he had tailored for them in the past, usually in pink or red tones.

"Oh Kurt honey, those are absolutely gorgeous!"

"Where's mine?!"

"Oh sweetie. You are just so talented."

Within moments several girls who were all gushing over the new dresses surrounded him. Kurt chuckled and instantly his mood improved. The girls were always kind to him and not because Quinn loved him, but because being gay made him the safest kind of man to be around. Despite Quinn's tight reign on the bordello, occasionally one of the girls ended up bruised and cut up from a vicious lover.

"Alright girls! Let him breathe!" Quinn's voice erupted over the chaos and the girls rushed back to their seats to let the boss do business. Quinn kept her hair up in a tight bun as compared to the girls who wore their hair loose or in braids. She wore a taffeta skirt, not of Kurt's design, and a puffed white blouse. Quinn dressed very conservatively when she was off doing errands around town, which was what she must have been up to today given her attire.

"It's really alright Quinn. I don't mind." Kurt spoke from behind a ruffle that had slid in front of his face and now covered it from sight. He felt Quinn's hands come beside his under the dress pile and she lifted them into her own hands, taking them to one of the tables in the lobby where patrons could have a drink while waiting for a lady. She set them down there and looked them over with a satisfied smile and nod.

"Excellent work, as always. These will be perfect."

Kurt beamed. He reveled in the praise of his work, especially since he put so much time and effort into it.

Quinn handed Kurt a bank note for the agreed on sum and as Kurt took it, he hesitated a moment before asking.

"Quinn. Do you have any more work for me to do? My rent was increased and..."

Quinn stopped him mid-sentence with a tsk, and a shake of her head, "Damned Karofsky's. They just can't keep doing that."

Kurt nodded in agreement, but added, "They do though."

"Well sweetie, I'll ask the girls to round up any mending they have and see what we can find for you to do hmm?" Quinn offered.

Kurt smiled softly. Mending wouldn't be enough to cover the increase, but at least it would be a start. "Thank you Quinn. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The blonde gave Kurt a dismissive wave. "You'd be stuck sewing up socks all day, that's what. I'm just lucky I found someone with as much talent in fashion as you in this town."

Kurt chuckled and gave Quinn a little bow in respect before heading out, the girls waving and bidding him goodbye.

He walked to the bank to cash the note. Kurt would have to ration out his food for the rest of the week and put this all towards the rent in addition to whatever other funds he could scrounge up.

As he walked he nodded to Mike and Tina, standing outside the doctor office where Mike served as the town doctor and Tina as the nurse. They were both second generation Asians of some type, and unless someone was hurt, no one in town made the effort to talk to them. For that reason alone, Kurt was always kind and polite to them. He knew what it was to be an outcast. Kurt had brought them many saloon patrons who had imbibed too much or who had been wounded in a brawl.

Mike and Tina both nodded back and smiled. Kurt imagined they were enjoying the calm before the storm. Once the competitions started up, they'd have their clinic full from those wounded in shoot-outs, bull wrestling, and all the other events, not to mention the brawls that would likely occur when you had too many men together who were competing and drinking.

Kurt reached the bank and stepped in, waiting his turn in a short line to the till where the bankers were counting and sorting cash. Eventually he got to the front and got his note cashed, quickly pocketing the cash.

Kurt didn't keep his money in the bank. He didn't trust the establishment. He saw more and more people using it, but he wasn't comfortable enough with it yet. Besides, it wasn't like he had money to save anyhow.

As he was walking out he felt hands against his chest and he was shoved against the wall. He gasped and looked at his assailant – Sebastian Smythe.

"Watch where you're going lady face." Sebastian laughed darkly and walked in front of the line straight to the teller to do whatever business he had. Kurt took a moment to recompose himself before continuing on his way.

Really, he should have known better. He usually kept himself on higher alert in town since pushing the gay kid around was a common occurrence, but his mind was occupied as it tried to figure out how else he could make cash.

When he walked back into the saloon, Rachel was already behind the bar, wiping out glasses from the storage room. They always needed more glasses during the competitions so they kept extra in storage.

"Thank goodness you're here Kurt! I swear the spiders are attracted to these glasses... there are so many egg sacs...."

Kurt made an audible cluck of disgust. "Rachel... that's just..."

"Oh it's not like they'll notice. I'll make sure we use them on the especially annoying riff raff anyhow." She winked and tucked some glasses under the counter.

Kurt grabbed a rag and set about wiping off the tables. He wiped them down before they closed up at night, but he was militant about keeping the place clean. It wasn't easy either with all the beer and whiskey that would be spilled in the average night.

"You ladies ready for a great night?" called a voice behind him, the saloon French doors swinging with a whine on their hinges as they indicated they had been pushed open.

"And what, praytell Santana, will make this night so great?" Rachel asked as she continued working diligently on the spider egg glasses behind the counter.

Santana sat herself down on one of Kurt's freshly wiped tables and he grimaced. "Well. I have myself a brothel token for starters."

Kurt's eyebrows arched up and he stopped his scrubbing to look at Santana, one of the few women around who felt comfortable wearing riding pants instead of dresses or skirts.

"And how did you get that and what are you going to do with it?" Rachel asked, clearly not impressed. Her relationship with Santana was strained as both seemed to tolerate the other with some degree of amusement and contempt. Where Rachel was always polite when refusing advances from the drunken patrons, Santana had no problem slapping and insulting those who came onto her.

Santana winked and Kurt noted that one of her hands was in a pocket, assumedly fondling the token in question. "Not gonna say and definitely none of your business. It's just going to be a great night is all."

Kurt shook his head, "Just get to work Santana." He went back to cleaning the table tops.

Santana huffed and walked back behind the counter to start prepping for customers. "What bee bit your bottoms today?"

"If you must know, our rent was increased, again." Rachel noted non-challantly, clearly holding back some spite through her teeth. "I had just saved up enough for a new set of boots and I'm going to have to put it all towards rent and keep walking around with a hole in mine."

Santana balked, "Hey now. Don't be so fussy over it. We have a lot of guys coming in this year and you can't get mad over Karofsky wanting to make some coin off it. That's how this capitalism stuff works."

"Snuff out the impoverished so the rich can hire another servant. That's how it works." Kurt noted, secretly jealous of Rachel for having the money to pay the increase at all. A hole in his boot was the least of his worries. Kurt wondered if David had made her the same offer he had given to him, but knew he couldn't ask.

Santana threw up her arms, "What do you want me to do about it? I just manage the place for them. Not like I have any pull with any of them anyhow. They don't like us Spanish anymore than they like the gays or the Asians or the injuns."

Rachel shrugged her shoulders, continuing her work without looking at Santana. "I don't know. It's just that despite your claims of being picked on, you seem to have a cushy position and never are left struggling to pay for what you need."

"Ladies!" Kurt piped up. He knew this was going no where fast and didn't want to have to walk on eggshells around either of them all night. "Can we please just get this place ready?"

Both the women just grumbled their acknowledgement and they all went to work in awkward silence.

Before long, businesses were closing and shifts ending. Patrons started filling up the saloon and demanding drinks and snacks. The saloon was popular for its dish of potatoes and beans, though Kurt would never understand why.

At one point, halfway through the night, Kurt could hear Rachel's voice get louder and more strained. Kurt was behind the counter, filling up glasses of beer. He took his tray with the beer and walked back, listening into the conversation that Rachel was having with a table.

"Now you certainly don't mean that." Rachel said.

"Oh come on honey. You could earn so much more next door." David Karofsky's telltale voice spoke and as he talked, laughter erupted at his table.

"Well that's nice of you to say, but that opportunity is not one I'm interested in." Rachel replied and then gasped sharply as Azimio slapped a hand to her buttocks, resulting in another round of laughter from the group.

Kurt quickly finished delivering the beer and stepped up beside Rachel, "Rachel. You're needed in the kitchen. I'll take their order."

Rachel gave Kurt a very appreciative glance and quickly scurried away. Kurt looked over the table, full of his main tormentors, and suppressed a frown and glare. "What can I get you guys tonight?"

He didn't know why he felt he needed to ask. They were all regulars unfortunately and he knew their orders by heart. He also knew that they would all be quite drunk by now, as if it wasn't already clear by the stack of empty glasses in the center of the table.

"Well unless you can get me a fine piece of that ass, I don't need nothin' from you boy." Azimio stood up and pushed his chair back in the act, stretching. "I'm gonna get goin'. Need to get my lovin' on next door before I get too tired."

The table laughed and the table took that as an invitation to excuse themselves, leaving David there with Kurt.

David grinned, "Well I know what I want." A hand was suddenly on Kurt's ass and Kurt tensed up immediately. No one had ever touched him like that. Revulsion rose within him.

"Whiskey then yes?" Kurt squeaked, trying to pull away before he had to deal with any more of this.

The hand on his ass, drew him back and squeezed where it was gripping, causing Kurt to wince. "You thought about my offer?"

"Please David... I'm at work. I have to work...." Kurt stumbled through his words, trying his best not to reach out and hit away the unwanted hand or say something he knew he'd regret.

To his credit, David pulled his hand away and chuckled, "Fine. Fine. I think though that one way or another I'm gonna get that ass." He winked at Kurt, standing up and leaving the saloon.

Kurt bit his lower lip gently, a nervous habit and gathered as many of the glasses on the table as he could to return to the back to be washed. As he moved he looked around to see if anyone had taken notice of what had just happened and saw no change in the conversations or demeanor of the patrons around. Either no one had seen, or no one had cared, and Kurt didn't know whether to be pleased or upset by that.

Never in all his life had he felt so disgusted, objectified, and worthless. He wondered how Rachel dealt with it all so casually all the time, and how the ladies of pleasure did it as a job. And did David mean it that he was going to get Kurt no matter what? Kurt didn't even know how to take that. He didn't know if he should be flattered another man found him attractive at all, or appalled that it was David of all people. His stomach clearly indicated that it felt nauseated by it all though.

What made it even worse that was Kurt was now wondering if he should even bother trying to find more funds if David was dead set on bedding him anyhow. Maybe he should just take the opportunity. Maybe ask some of the girls next door how they managed to do it day after day. No, he thought, then they might suspect something was up with him and they couldn't take that chance.

"Hey Kurt...?" Rachel had come up beside him and he hadn't even noticed.

Kurt looked over to her and forced a smile, "Yes?"

"Thanks for getting me out of there." She smiled sweetly to him, filling her tray with shots for a table.

Kurt smiled still, though with more ease now. "You're welcome."

Rachel went off to serve her table and Kurt stayed behind the bar

to pour drinks for the patrons sitting at it. Santana was collecting tabs at her register. As the manager, only she was allowed to deal with the money, aside from the tips.

They finally got the last patron out well after two in the morning and then spent the next hour cleaning the place up before heading to their respective homes. Kurt could hear laughing and squealing coming from the bordello next door as much of their business had ended up there. It was something he had never gotten used to, sleeping against those noises, but if he wanted to be up early enough to mend and tailor, he had to.

Curling up under his threadbare sheet, he sighed, speaking to no one in particular, "Good-night."

And in the silence that followed, Kurt fell asleep.