The car screamed to a halt in the driveway before the mansion; Tybalt was out of the car and moving before it could fully come to a halt, Mercutio only just behind him. The front door stood ajar, and Tybalt sprinted inside. Benvolio scrambled out hastily behind them, already reaching for his gun and checking the clip. He looked to Mercutio.

Mercutio leaned into the driver's window as the man rolled down the window; he was one of his uncle's men. "Give me your gun then radio the guard."

The driver handed him his semi-auto pistol and two spare clips without question and was already radioing base as Mercutio sprinted into the house behind Tybalt, Benvolio following on his heels.

The house showed the signs of recent battle; two men lay sprawled dead upon the floor in the entry hall. Sounds of struggling echoed down the stairs; Tybalt's hoarse cry had Mercutio racing up the stairs, his long legs taking them two at a time as he sprang upward, following the sound to the master bedroom that Romeo and Juliet had taken for their own. He leapt over three more bodies and sped down the hall. Behind him he could hear Benvolio panting as he tried to keep up.

Up ahead he could see three figures wrestling, silhouetted in the light from the open doorway. One figure was unmistakably Tybalt, tall, his long leather coat flapping around him as he struggled, his long hair coming loose from the ponytail. His hand suddenly jerked outwards and there was a spray of blood as one of his attackers dropped. The other tackled Tybalt from behind.

Mercutio raised the gun, muttered a fervent prayer and squeezed the trigger. The gun barked twice, the sound deafening in the narrow hallway, and one of the figures dropped. He heard a muttered curse as the other slumped against the doorway, one arm hanging limp at his side as he flicked blood off the blade in his hand.

Tybalt looked up as Mercutio skidded to a halt beside him, his brow furrowed in anger as he sheathed his knife then clenched a hand around his upper left arm. "Never mind me, check on Juliet," he hissed with a jerk of his chin towards the bedroom.

"Only you would bring a knife to a gunfight, Tybalt Capulet," Mercutio grinned. Tybalt's answer was a savage grin then he jerked his chin at the corpse at his feet, the throat slashed open.

"He's dead, isn't he?" he whispered. "Go. Juliet."

Mercutio nodded and turned to the bedroom.

The room was a mess. Furniture had been overturned, bedding and clothes strewn around, books scattered. Four dead men lay sprawled about the room, blood had been sprayed up the wall beside the bed and splattered across the dresser mirror. The carpet was stained with further pools of blood.

Juliet was crouched in the corner of the room, her eyes wide, blood covering half her face and her clothes drenched. The handgun clutched in her hands was aimed squarely at Mercutio's chest, her grip firm and unwavering.

Mercutio thumbed on the safety and tossed his gun away from him as he raised his hands slowly.

"Easy, Juliet, it's me. Mercutio. I'm unarmed." He kept his voice low, quiet and unthreatening. "They're dead. All the men are dead except me and Tybalt. He's over by the door."

Juliet stared at him for long moments, then lowered the gun a fraction as she darted her glance towards the doorway; Mercutio didn't look around and take his eyes off her. He breathed an inward sigh of relief as she lowered her gun and thumbed the safety on; only then did he lower his arms.

"Tybalt?" Her voice wavered, and then she launched herself across the floor and flung herself into his arms and began sobbing as he wrapped his good arm around her and held her close.

"I'm here, you're safe, I'm here now," he murmured quietly. Benvolio stepped around them carefully and nodded to Mercutio as he holstered his gun then began checking the bodies.

Mercutio drew a deep breath then retrieved his gun, double-checking the safety was still on before tucking it into his belt at his back then picking up Juliet's gun. Then he made a circuit of the room, toeing over the corpses with Benvolio and crouching to check for ID or insignia.

"They took him – they took Romeo," gasped Juliet. "I tried to fight them off but there were too many of them. They took him, Tybalt!" Benvolio looked up then closed his eyes and swore softly to himself; Mercutio spared him a sympathetic look. He was still mad at him, but he shared his worry and dread.

"Shh, shh, we'll get him back, I swear," whispered Tybalt as he gently stroked her hair. "Are you hurt? Is any of this blood yours?"

She shook her head. "Theirs, I think. Tybalt, they shot Romeo. I don't know how bad, but they shot him."

Tybalt lifted his head and glanced at Mercutio, his eyes dark and angry. "They'll pay, Juliet."

Mercutio nodded. "We'll get the bastards."

Tybalt glanced at the bodies. "Capulets?" Mercutio and Benvolio both nodded, and Tybalt swore. He bowed his head and pressed his forehead to Juliet's. They both stood silent, eyes closed.

"You know what this means," he whispered to her softly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she breathed. "Do what you have to."

He pulled away slightly and nodded. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered and leaned up to kiss him. "You'll save him." It was a statement, not a question, but Tybalt nodded. "That's all I ask," she said softly.

Benvolio got to his feet as they heard booted feet pounding into the hallway below. "That'll be the guard," he observed as he stepped over the corpses in the doorway and made his way down the hall to meet them. "Nice knifework," he called back over his shoulder. Tybalt ignored him.

Juliet stepped back then caught at Tybalt's left arm. "You're hurt," she said softly.

"It's nothing," replied Tybalt. "One of them nicked me with his knife. Looks worse than it is; the leather took most of the damage."

"I don't get it – they were armed with guns but Juliet's unharmed and they only went after you with a knife," said Mercutio slowly.

"There was one man who seemed to be in charge," answered Juliet. "They were shouting to take any Capulets alive and kill the rest as they were dragging Romeo away. I think they expected to find Tybalt here as well."

"Got more than they bargained for," snorted Mercutio as he helped Tybalt slip his arm out of the coat sleeve. There was a slash across the sleeve, the edges stained dark with blood, but the cut seemed clean and fairly shallow. "Another scar to your tally on that arm," he remarked.

"You make a habit of counting my scars, Escalus?" whispered Tybalt, arching one eyebrow.

"Occasionally," grinned Mercutio. "Mine are all rather boring but yours look interesting."

Tybalt shrugged. "They only show where I was foolish and slow," he said dismissively. "Hardly something to brag about."

There was the sound of feet pounding up the stairs and Benvolio reappeared with the unit captain.

"Lord Escalus," nodded the captain. "My men are securing the house and there's a medic team en route. Any survivors?"

"Not amongst the intruders," answered Mercutio. "We'll need a clean-up crew here once your men are done."

"Yes, sir," nodded the captain. "Any further orders?"

"Check the servants are OK, and detail an escort for us back to the palace. Advise my uncle that Romeo Montague has been kidnapped by the Capulets and inform him I will report to him as soon as the Lady Juliet Montague has been settled into appropriate quarters." He was aware of Tybalt, Juliet and Benvolio staring at him, Tybalt narrowing his eyes in anger but saying nothing. "I want a unit of guards stationed here until further notice," he added.

"What about me?" asked Benvolio as the captain saluted then headed back downstairs.

"You come with us for now," decided Mercutio.

"Lady Juliet Montague?" hissed Tybalt; Juliet laid a hand on his arm.

"I am married to one now," she reminded him gently. He turned and glared at her, then glanced away.

"Let's get back to the palace," said Mercutio.

Two female guards helped Juliet pack essentials as Tybalt headed off to his own room to retrieve some personal effects, He shrugged off the medics irritably as they tried to treat his arm; they looked to Mercutio, who merely shook his head. He knew only too well there was no point pushing Tybalt when he was in this mood.

They headed back to the palace in an armoured personnel carrier. They were silent on the journey; Tybalt sat next to Juliet, their fingers entwined. Mercutio sat opposite Tybalt, with Benvolio next to him. Mercutio was aware of Benvolio glancing at him frequently, as though trying to build up the nerve to speak, but Mercutio ignored him. Tybalt gave no sign of noticing Benvolio even existed.

The APC pulled into the grounds of the palace. There were four checkpoints to go through before they reached the palace itself; it looked like Prince Escalus were taking no chances after the last time the Capulets had attacked. They were waved through the gate into the inner courtyard by guards around the arch, and there were four further units in the inner courtyard. Two of them formed up around the APC to escort them to the main entrance of the palace where further armed guards stood alert.

They headed up towards the guest wing, and Mercutio noted the heavy guard presence everywhere. Captain Morgan himself was waiting at the main entrance to the guest wing; he saluted Mercutio as they approached.

"Lord Escalus, we have guards posted on all floors, with additional guards stationed outside your rooms, Lord Capulet's and Lady Montague's suites."

Mercutio was aware of Tybalt's suddenly involuntary twitch as he realised the captain was referring to him with his uncle's title.

"I am no lord," he whispered tersely. Mercutio held up his hand to forestall any further objection; he thought Tybalt was about to argue but then he broke off to glance down at Juliet's hand in his own, then up at Juliet. He subsided, a glower darkening his features.

"Your uncle is awaiting you in the council chamber," added the captain.

Mercutio nodded. "I will be there directly the Lady Juliet and Tybalt have been settled."

"I'll be coming with you," disagreed Tybalt. Mercutio shot him a glance then nodded.

"I'll have word sent immediately," replied the captain.

They headed straight for the suite Juliet had originally occupied with Romeo. Mercutio nodded to the guards outside the suite doors as they saluted; once inside he firmly closed the doors.

"Lady Montague? Lord Capulet?" exclaimed Tybalt in an angry growl as he rounded on Mercutio.

Mercutio shrugged. "Technically the title is yours, seeing as your uncle has supposedly fled Verona and the Prince has awarded his estates and holdings to both you and Juliet. The title goes with the estate."

"I don't want the damned title!" snarled Tybalt. "It should never have been mine to begin with! Let the title go to Juliet's children when she has them, or let it die with him - but I want none of it!"

"Take it up with my uncle," replied Mercutio drily.

Benvolio shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. Tybalt, distracted by the movement, turned on him. "And what the hell is he still doing here?" he spat.

"I've yet to decide," replied Mercutio, sparing Benvolio a brief glance before turning back to Tybalt. "He's got a lot to make up to both you and Juliet, and I haven't forgotten."

"Get out," Tybalt snarled at Benvolio before turning his back on him. Juliet went to him and took his hand once more, staring up at him as he lowered his head. He laid his hand slowly over hers but said nothing.

Mercutio could guess at the reasons for Tybalt's sudden outburst of anger of course. It wasn't the use of the title or Juliet's name, or even Benvolio's presence; they were handy targets for his ire, but at heart he knew Tybalt was blaming himself for not being there when the Capulets attacked.

He glanced at Benvolio. "Go outside and wait in the hall," he ordered him. Benvolio nodded silently and let himself out. Mercutio crossed the room and rested his hands gently on Tybalt's shoulders. He was stiff and tense; Mercutio felt him start to shake his hands off then stop.

"It wasn't your fault," Mercutio said quietly.

"I should have been there," Tybalt whispered.

"Well you weren't, and castigating yourself isn't going to change that," replied Mercutio. "How does blaming yourself help Romeo any?"

Tybalt drew in his breath sharply then slowly exhaled before nodding slowly. "I understand your point," he replied quietly. He lifted his eyes to Juliet. "You should take a bath, wash your hair, change into something clean," he said quietly. She nodded.

"And you should have your arm looked at," she answered, giving his hands a firm shake.

He snorted, a sound that was almost a laugh. "I will," he nodded. He turned to Mercutio as he released her hands.

"Let's go," he whispered. Mercutio nodded.

As they walked back through the palace, heading for the council chamber, Mercutio couldn't shake the feeling that a storm was gathering – and they were about to walk right into its heart.