Mercutio was angry.

No, actually; make that downright furious.

His uncle had entered the breakfast room just as he sat down to his coffee, and threw down an envelope in front of Mercutio, spilling the fresh brew he hadn't even had a chance to sip at yet.

"Uncle!" he'd protested, with a disgusted look; the Prince had silenced him with a look.

"I think you need to see these," was all he said.

Mercutio had picked up the envelope, already dreading what he would see. He fanned the photos out on the table, leafing through them.

"Where did you get these?" he breathed.

"Security camera footage, a couple of operatives with telephoto lenses. One of our men managed to slip into the church unseen." The expression on the Prince's face was hard, but there was a sympathetic light in his eyes. "I thought you ought to know. I've given orders for the guard to be doubled; all leave cancelled for the next 48 hours. Go find him."

Now he was stalking towards the arena with a face like thunder.

"Mercutio! Hey, Mercutio!" called Benvolio from behind. "Have you heard -"

"Yes," he ground out between gritted teeth. "I heard."

"It's not possible!" exclaimed Gino as he fell into step with them.

"You've heard? I don't believe it! How could he?" cried Maria as she joined them halfway across the piazza.

"They say he's in love with Juliet," said Benvolio, his normally-jovial face dark and sombre.

"A Capulet? How could he do that?" exclaimed Maria. "To his family!"

"You've heard then?" asked Niccolo as he and three others fell in with the group.

"Oh yes, we've heard; seems the whole damned city has heard," growled Mercutio. He came to a halt and slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand and swore. "After we warned him, after all we said -" He turned and spat in the dust.

"They're killers!" snarled Maria. "Every single one of them! How many of us have they taken? And they curse and slander us!"

"They spent the night together," said Mercutio darkly. "That night after the ball, when he didn't go home."

"He's crazy, insane!" exclaimed Benvolio, shaking his head. "I just can't believe it."

"Tybalt saw them together," snapped Mercutio. "There's going to be bloodshed, mark my words."

"What will the Prince say when he finds out?" breathed Niccolo; Mercutio rounded on him.

"How the hell do you think I found out?" he snarled. "He already bloody knows! He-" He broke off as Benvolio slapped him on the arm with the back of his hand and jerked his head in the direction of the south entrance to the piazza where Romeo had just ambled in as though he hadn't a care in the world.

As if he hadn't just betrayed everything his family and friends stood for.

Mercutio stalked towards him, the others fanning out behind him, all wearing grim expressions. Romeo walked towards them with a smile that faltered as he saw their faces and the look in Mercutio's eyes. They halted a few paces in front of him.

"Here you are at last, Romeo." Mercutio glared at him as Benvolio strode up to Romeo and shoved him back a step.

"A fine little ruckus you've stirred up," he growled. "Was she worth it?"

"Benvolio?" Romeo's tone was one of bewilderment; he turned to Mercutio. "I have to talk to you."

Benvolio shoved him a little harder. "And we have to talk to you!" he retorted. "What in hell were you thinking?"

"He wasn't thinking; that's the problem!" called out Maria.

"Not with his head; his dick maybe," nodded Gino. Mercutio made a cutting motion with his hand and they fell silent.

"You're going to get knifed. Tybalt knows what you did. He's going to be out for blood, Romeo. Your blood." He smiled sweetly, but his eyes were cold as ice. "And you'll bloody deserve it for kissing Capulet's daughter. What did you think would happen?"

"You betrayed us, and what do you think will happen now?" added Benvolio. "You've stirred up not one hornet's nest but two; your mother is furious! Don't you know this will mean war?"

Mercutio shoved Romeo back towards Benvolio. "You're head's been in the clouds too long, Romeo. A storm's coming and you're right in the middle of it – and you'll drag the whole damned lot of us with you!"

"You had no right!" cried Benvolio, thrusting his finger accusingly at Romeo.

"Don't talk to me about rights!" retorted Romeo, finally standing his ground as he stared at Benvolio. "You have no right to talk that way to me!"

"Have you lost your mind?" snapped Mercutio. "Have you no shame?" Romeo looked from him to Benvolio then back again.

"You're both mad!" he said.

"I'm bloody ashamed for you, Romeo," said Benvolio darkly. "After what you've done...!"

"Have you any idea how many people are going to suffer for what you did?" cried Maria. "Haven't they killed enough of us, that you want more blood on your hands?"

"And have you never been in love then?" retorted Romeo as he turned to single her out. "Any of you?"

"We would never have fucked a Capulet!" replied Gino. Romeo's eyes widened in fury.

"You -" He took a step towards Gino with raised fists, but suddenly Mercutio was standing in front of him, pushing him back.

"Romeo, look at yourself! Look at what you've done, what you're doing! You're as bad as one of them!"

"No, no!" he cried. "I'm not! You don't understand, Juliet's not one of them, she's different!"

"Oh, yes," Mercutio said sarcastically as he nodded. "They're all different when they spread their legs and you're balls-deep inside them." he shoved Romeo hard. "She's still a Capulet in her blood you damn fool!"

"And Tybalt will take the insult whether she was willing or no," said Benvolio. Mercutio nodded.

"Willing or..." Romeo stared at Benvolio, his eyes widening as the import of his friend's words struck home. "Benvolio, no! I would never rape her! Do you really think that of me? That I would be capable of something as horrible as that?"

"Tybalt will," replied Mercutio. "And he won't care how many of us he has to go through to get to you," he added as there was a chorus of "ayes" from Benvolio and the others.

Romeo turned to Mercutio with a pleading look. "Please, Mercutio, can't you just trust me?" he asked.

"I thought I had a friend called Romeo," said Mercutio coldly. "He and I were close. As close as brothers. You? I don't know this Romeo. Why should I trust him? You didn't trust me! You couldn't tell me!" His voice rose as he rounded on Romeo, the last said as a scream. "Why didn't you tell me, damn you?"

"Forgive me," said Romeo quietly. "I should have."

"Yes, you should but you didn't, and now someone's going to die and it's not bloody well going to be me, Romeo Montague, you hear me? I'm not going to damn well die for you!" He turned away and walked a few paces before turning back. "You always were good at picking girls to screw, Romeo," he said with a nasty grin. "But this time you screwed up which girl to pick."

"Two families' lives?" said Benvolio. "No woman is worth that much!"

"Any woman would have had you, Romeo! Why did it have to be her?"

"Because I love her," said Romeo quietly. Mercutio threw up his hands with a noise of frustration and turned on his heel.

"You had no right to do this, Romeo," he said quietly over his shoulder before striding away.

"Mercutio! Mercutio, wait!" cried Romeo. The others stared at him then as one turned away and began to follow Mercutio. "Benvolio – please, just listen -"

Benvolio shook his head in disgust and spat at Romeo's feet before turning to follow Mercutio.

"Mercutio!"

Mercutio kept walking.

The air was heavy and humid; the tension in the air could be felt like a palpable miasma that lay over the city, infecting everything. Everyone seemed on edge and uneasy, the air still and silent, pregnant with threat. The sun was low in the sky, bathing the piazza in hues of blood and gold as shadows lengthened. There was no-one around save the small group of Montagues clustered around Mercutio and Benvolio.

Mercutio leaned against the wall of the arena, his arms folded.

"There's going to be trouble, Mercutio," warned Benvolio in a low voice. "Nothing's happened all day. It's too calm."

"Nothing is going to happen," replied Mercutio testily. "Our Capulet friends have had time to sleep it off. They had too much wine at the ball, that's all." He shook his head at Benvolio. "You're like a man who lays down a knife and says 'pray God I won't need this tonight' then two drinks later is looking for a fight. Nothing will happen, Benvolio!"

"I hope you're right, for all our sakes," said Benvolio quietly. "But I'm still afraid for Romeo."

"Hey, you!" A voice rang out from across the piazza; they lifted their heads and Mercutio pushed himself away from the wall as he stared at the small group of people who advanced towards them, Tybalt at their head.

"Capulets!" cried Mercutio as he bounded forward with a fierce grin, like a spring finally uncoiling that had been wound too tightly. He strode towards Tybalt, who halted perhaps twenty feet away from him, staring at Mercutio with a look of cold disdain.

Ah, so it was to be like this, was it?

"Tybalt! You're looking as well as ever," he smiled. He glanced at the glove and smirked. "Ooh, nice touch; I didn't know retro was back in fashion this season! Never figured you for an 80s fan."

Tybalt merely raised one eyebrow. "I want a word, Mercutio."

"Only a word? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow," taunted Mercutio with a shrug.

"Don't test me, Mercutio; you'll find me far too willing to accommodate you. My patience goes only so far where you're concerned." Tybalt's lip curled in a sneer as he fingered the black silk scarf at his throat meaningfully. "Where's your friend? If the dogs are here then their master can't be far behind. I know you hang out with Romeo."

"Hang out? Who do you think we are, musicians in a band?" It was Mercutio's turn to sneer. "If we look like musicians to you, you can expect to hear nothing but noise." He grabbed his crotch with a grin. "This is my fiddlestick; shall I use it to make you dance, Tybalt?"

"We're talking here in a public place. Either go someplace private, or talk it over rationally, or else just go away. Out here everybody can see us," warned Benvolio. "Do you want the guard to see?"

Mercutio's ire was raised however. "Men's eyes were made to see things, so let them watch. I won't move to please anybody," he said diffidently.

"Where is Romeo?" demanded Tybalt coldly.

Benvolio rolled his eyes and gave it up for a bad job. Evidently a fight was inevitable. He turned to the rest of the Montagues.

"He's looking for Romeo!" he said in a sing-song voice, and the other Montagues catcalled and jeered.

"I've seen you look for many things, my dear handsome Tybalt," said Mercutio with a sardonic grin. "For luck, for money... for a fight!" He leapt forward and the Capulets around Tybalt reacted, reaching for knives even as Mercutio laughed and strolled back towards the Montagues before turning to face Tybalt again.

"Once, even a girl." He winked at Rosaline who stood a little behind and to the left of Tybalt; though the tall dark-haired Capulet remained impassive as he stared at Mercutio, Rosaline and the others reacted with outrage.

"But now you're looking for Romeo," Mercutio remarked. "Was your hand not enough for you then?"

"Mercutio, don't make trouble for yourself," said Tybalt dismissively as he paced slowly in a circle to his left, his eyes on Mercutio. "Where is he?"

Something about his tone caused Mercutio's hackles to rise and he felt a flare of anger as he turned to his left and paced. "Out nailing a pretty lady," he said tersely, dropping the smile. "Be sure he doesn't nail you next!" he tossed back over his shoulder at Tybalt.

Tybalt's face darkened. Too close to home. He felt his rage grow from cold fury into white-hot heat. "Where is he?" he snarled.

The flash of rage spilled over like a flame to a touchpaper. Both Capulets and Montagues spread out, eyeing each other, as Mercutio and Tybalt circled in the middle like a pair of bristling cats.

Mercutio glared at Tybalt, all the repressed hurt and anger welling up into rage. "Tybalt, Tybalt!" he said in a taunting, sing-song voice, and grinned as he saw it have the desired effect on the other man, Tybalt's eyes flashing in fury. "Run away, Tybalt; run away, little cat before you get your tail cut off! Run away, rat-catcher!"

"Mercutio, just look at yourself!" snarled Tybalt. "I'll step on you like the worm you are! You're a clown, a jabbering fool, but I'll teach you to be silent, you dog! You're a dead man!" He set his hand on the hilt of his knife even as Mercutio threw himself towards him. Montagues and Capulets leapt at each other.

"Stop! Stop it, all of you!" cried Romeo as he pushed into the midst of the melee and thrust himself between Mercutio and Tybalt. "Don't you see, both your lives will be forfeit if you fight! You're both mad! Enough!" He pushed Mercutio back out of the way as he turned to Tybalt.

"End the fighting, end this hate!" he urged him. "Put revenge behind you!" He held out his right hand to Tybalt. "I am your brother, Tybalt. Please. Stop this."

Tybalt stared at him then at his hand. His... brother? He looked up at Romeo again who nodded.

"It's true. We're kinsmen. Please, set aside this hatred." Romeo spoke with an honest earnestness.

Tybalt stared at Romeo's hand again. If the rumours were true... if Romeo truly had married his Juliet as they were saying... If he had made an honest woman of his beloved cousin, she must truly love him. Why him? his mind cried silently. Why did it have to be him? But if Juliet had chosen this man, who was he to stand in her way? And yet, he was a Montague.

He closed his eyes briefly, and thought of Juliet as he raised his injured right hand slowly, then held it out to Romeo. As Romeo took it in a firm grip, he winced involuntarily.

A Capulet and a Montague locked in a fight together knocked into Romeo, pushing him heavily into Tybalt who fell as Romeo's elbow struck his ribs. He dropped to the ground, clutching his side as the old wound protested painfully.

He felt nothing but a haze of red rage. He had taken the hand offered in friendship and Romeo had betrayed his trust. He pushed himself to his feet and turned to stare flatly at Romeo.

Mercutio pulled Romeo away as Tybalt began to advance with cold purpose towards them; Tybalt moved faster.

"You coward! Stand and fight and I swear I'll kill you quickly!" he howled above the noise of the melee all around them.

Mercutio was suddenly there in front of him; he gave Tybalt a shove that sent the dark-haired man sprawling then pulled Romeo away swiftly. "Run, Romeo; he hates us, he always has!" he panted. "There's no backing down from a man like him. Go, get out of here!"

He shoved Romeo behind him as he saw Tybalt get to his feet and advance towards him. He had to do something to distract Tybalt. He knew only too well how blinded the Capulet could become when possessed by rage; he had to somehow draw Tybalt's attention away from Romeo if any of them were to survive this day. Tybalt had lost all reason.

"Tybalt, you're a coward! A dog who's all bark and no bite!" he called.

"And you're a fool who talks too much!" screamed Tybalt over the din. "I'm done with your games; this is the last you'll ever play!"

"Come on then, I'm for you!" howled Mercutio in challenge.

They leapt towards each other, Tybalt drawing his blade.

At the last minute, somehow Romeo was between them, his arms lifting to block them both. He knocked Tybalt's arm as he lunged, deflecting his knife hand, and threw Mercutio off balance; Mercutio felt Tybalt slam into them and something hit him in the ribs.

It didn't hurt.

He glanced down and saw with dull surprise the hilt of Tybalt's blade jutting from his ribs, perhaps two inches below his chest to the right. He staggered back and looked up into Tybalt's eyes; they were wide shock and horror. His blind rage had been doused by the shock of what he had done as full realisation dawned. His green eyes flicked down to the hilt of his knife then back up to meet Mercutio's gaze, then he backed away as Romeo turned.

"Mercutio?"

"I'm fine, it's nothing. Barely a scratch." Mercutio tried to laugh but suddenly it hurt; hurt to laugh, hurt to breathe.

"Mercutio, let me see!" cried Romeo.

A hush seemed to fall over the square as Montagues and Capulets drew back, somehow sensing something deeper was going on beyond their scuffles.

Mercutio staggered back away from Romeo, his hand curled around the hilt of the knife. "A plague on both your houses!" he spat.

"Mercutio, you're hurt!" Romeo cried as Mercutio stumbled away, fumbling with the hilt of the knife until he was able to tug it out.

There was surprisingly little blood. Shouldn't there be more? "It's nothing, just a scratch, see?" He tried to grin as he staggered.

"Mercutio! Oh my God, Mercutio!" Romeo groaned as he grabbed at his friend's arm to steady him.

"Romeo, you've always been clumsy. Why the hell did you have to get between us?" Mercutio panted. It was getting harder to breathe. He pushed Romeo away then suddenly he was falling, the ground rising too fast. He gasped as he hit the hard ground; for a moment he couldn't move, and then somehow he managed to push himself to his feet.

"Mercutio -"

"Don't say you're sorry!" he managed to snarl. He straightened slowly. "Only children say they're sorry. And Juliet needs a man. Love her; she can give you what no other woman can." He pushed Romeo gently with a sad smile then pressed his hand over the wound as he gasped. He felt wetness beneath his palm.

"Mercutio, you need help, we've got to get you to a hospital!" pleaded Romeo.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Mercutio tried to laugh. "Though call for me tomorrow and you'll find me a grave man."

"Mercutio, don't joke of such things!" Romeo protested.

Mercutio tried to speak, to say something but suddenly he was falling, and this time he couldn't catch himself.

Romeo's arms were around him, cradling him gently as he lowered him to the ground. "Mercutio, Mercutio!" he groaned. Someone was weeping in the background; was that Benvolio?

"You'll have to fight your war without me, Romeo," he whispered as he stared up into his friend's tear-streaked face. It was getting harder to breathe; he could taste blood in his mouth.

"Mercutio, look at me. You can't die, Mercutio, you have to live. I need you!"

"What will you do without me?" murmured Mercutio, his breath rasping in his throat. His eyes felt so heavy and he felt so tired.

"No, Mercutio, stay with me, you're going to be alright – you've got to be alright," pleaded Romeo desperately.

"I'll be OK," Mercutio smiled faintly as he lifted a hand to pat Romeo's face gently. "I'll be with Valentine. I'll... be..."

Tybalt stared, numb with shock, as Mercutio's hand fell limply to the ground and his eyes closed. His body gave a shudder, and then he lay still.

Romeo hunched over Mercutio's body as Benvolio knelt in the dust beside him, weeping bitterly. "Mercutio, don't go! Don't leave me!" sobbed Romeo as he clutched at Mercutio's bloodstained shirt. "Mercutio!" He doubled over, his head bowed, and then he screamed in raw pain.

Tybalt flinched at the sound, his own breath catching in his throat.

Romeo's head snapped up and he turned to fix Tybalt with a glare of pure hatred. "Tybalt," he hissed, then louder, "Tybalt!" He leapt to his feet and snatched up the knife as he threw himself towards the silent Capulet.

He swung wildly; Tybalt was slow to react, his mind still reeling and numb over what he had just done. He clumsily managed to deflect the first wild swing and the second, then gasped as he felt the dagger slide between his ribs. Romeo grasped his hair and yanked his head to the side, raising the knife for one last blow.

The blade caught on the silk scarf as it slashed across his throat. He lifted a hand toward his neck as blood spilled down his chest, and then he was falling, the ground rushing up to meet him. He couldn't breathe. So much blood. He tried to reach a hand out towards Mercutio, but his arm wouldn't work. Cold. Feel so cold.

Someone was screaming his name.

He was so very, very tired.

He closed his eyes.