Dude Note: This is going to be a much, much darker story than I had ever anticipated myself writing. I won't spoil the plot but this is my fair warning that current and future content may contain violence, strong language and adult situations.

"I just... I just wanted to make others laugh." I sobbed silently over my best friends body.

The catacombs were dark and smelled of rot. A young Romeo was laid in his sepulchre next to his beloved and betrothed. My tears dripped next to them. Nothing could bring them back. It was my fault for playing dead. My fault for jesting over a situation so serious. No... they should have known I wasn't serious. Why are they always so serious? I hadn't even fought seriously with Tybalt. They really believed he would kill me? My death shouldn't have even mattered that much. I'm nothing but a joke.

I slammed my fist on the stone in frustration before standing and walking away. I could no longer bear the sight of my best friend's deathbed. I climbed onto my horse and pulled away from the catacombs as fast I could. The sound of the trotting was somewhat vexing. It continued to sound of the two heartbeats that ended because of me. I had pounded their life into the ground just as my horse pounds the dirt as it continued to spur on.

I passed by the statue of my best friend and his lover, which was preserved to remind the families what they lost in their fighting. I had been visiting this catacomb everyday for three years since the events had occurred. The sting of passing by this statue never faded for a single day. Many people of Verona had called me a drunkard since then. I would venture to the larger taverns before being thrown out. Smaller taverns enjoyed the money I gave but was wary enough to only serve me when they were closed. Mercutio as everyone knew was in his downfall.

I pulled off my usual route. I was sick of all the pain and misery and guilt. I had wished to make amends for the problems that I have caused. Mantua was not too far away, riding there should only take until the rest of the already eternal but late night. I wished to meet the apothecary that had sold my best friend his death liquor. I wished for him to prevent occurrences like this from happening further.

When I finally arrived it didn't take long for me to find the apothecary. He looked as if he were much better off than expected. He must have tricked Romeo into giving him a large sum of money. The man who killed my best friend had swindled his money as well! I couldn't stand for this I kicked down the door in rage. I rushed into the only room the man had. The apothecary was sitting up vividly startled by my entrance. I stormed up to him and grabbed him by his shoulders.

"Why did you kill him?!" I yelled in a blind rage shaking him violently.

"Kill who?" He weakly replied.

"You know who!" I punched him in the face. "Why did you kill him?"

"I didn't kill anyone!"

"Don't lie to me!" I punched him again.

"Please... Stop..." The man begged.

"Did you stop selling poison when my best friend died?!" I cried out. "Did you stop and think of the lives you destroyed?" Tears were pouring out of my eyes as I sobbed violently over this stranger. There was a long pause before he responded.

"...Yes." The word was quiet as it barely escaped his lips. I released my grip, not realizing that I had my hands around his neck. I looked down at the now breathless man who had fallen limp in my arms.

"Wake up." I said weakly. "I didn't mean to..." my voice trailed off. I kept staring at this man, his eyes were glazed and a tear was running down his cheek.

"Wake up!" I yelled. "Wake up! Please! Wake up! I'm sorry!" I wept again. My tears were drenching the apothecary's face as I screamed and begged and pleaded for him to wake up. But the man was gone. The apothecary did not awake.

I closed the apothecary's eyes after I could stop crying so wildly. I peered around his house. It was daylight now and I could see clearly inside his room. There were many notes pinned to his walls. On the few notes I read there were many requests for poisons. There were also many denials written on the many requests. On the back of each note he wrote something that caused me to hurt more than ever before.

Think of Romeo.

I sat there completely broken. It felt as if someone had put a surgeon's knife to my chest and proceeded to dissect my heart. I gripped one of the notes tightly in my hand. I have to fix this. I need to fix this.

I stood up and bounded to the closet where the apothecary held his potions. I took the notebook the apothecary had on his small end table at his bedside. I pawed through his notes endlessly and meticulously. I was scrupulous with every note taken, of every potion, herb, poison, powder, metal, rock and liquid. There were treatments for Ivy, fevers, dizziness, shortness of breath, drowsiness, sore throats etc. There were also poisons which included the same chemicals to kill my best friend.

It took me two sleepless weeks to memorize the apothecary's notes. I studied extensively on what combinations did what. There were herbs that could add the effect of clearing your nose of congestion but would cause you to have indigestion. There was a potion that could cleanse your bladder of all things bad but in the end you would have a kidney lost. I had found a poison that had an interesting effect. This poison had muscle regeneration elements but was sure to kill you.

I put further study into this one poison. I believe that the right concoction could possibly negate the poison or at least exchange it for a lesser side effect.