I love my dead gay son - Romeo and Juliet AU

3.2 --- Mercutio won't be giggling any more.

The blood dripped.

Romeo thought it would stop, that Juliet would start laughing and reveal a vial of red dye, or it being a barely-deep cut or something, but all that happened was Juliet's gurgle that wasn't even despairing because by the time Romeo realised what the fuck had happened she was already dead.

He turned his head slowly towards his hand as Juliet fell from her knees to straight down into a corpse (when had she lost her footing? He didn't know). He slowly lowered it, trying to hide the ugly scarlet gash striped across his sword from everyone around him.

Mercutio wouldn't be giggling any more.

Time didn't suddenly slow down or speed up, and Romeo wished it had, because then he would know that he had felt something, anything, but he didn't. All he could think about was-

Tybalt stepped back, and ran into Mercutio, who had snuck up behind them while it was happening. Romeo didn't even want to look in his general direction, let alone at him, but when he did, he couldn't even recognise what he saw, not for a moment. Then he did.

Hatred. Disgust. Outrage.

It wasn't directed at Romeo though. Mercutio pushed his hands out into a fierce shove that sent Tybalt flying. He turned round, furious, but Romeo's friend was far too quick. He punched him, a brutal move that sent Tybalt - well, even more flying than the push had. He was on the floor, far too close and far, far too alike to Juliet for anyone's liking.

"You- started- all- of- this-" Mercutio snarled, kicking or punching Tybalt as morbid punctuation with every word. "You- just- couldn't- keep your- dirty- fucking- paws- out of our- business, could- you?"

"Mercutio, he didn't-"

"I don't care!" Mercutio turned to face Romeo, and he was crying. He was flipping crying. That was when Romeo still didn't realise. "I don't care what the hell he did, he should be gone! He stopped- he stopped us-"

"Stopped us what, dude? And piss off of Tybalt!" Romeo had to drop his sword, or he would have started swinging it again. "Just flipping tell me, bruh!"

Mercutio gulped, trying to hold in the shaky tears which were signs of not being a True Dude. Dudes can be idiots sometimes. "Oh for- I can't. I can't say it. Just use your fricking brain, ok Bromeo, if you have one. Stay there!" He shouted the last bit at Tybalt, who promptly resumed his position on the floor. And Romeo's heart still went out for him, but he knew that wasn't the point.

He thought. And thought. And a bit more. He only got to thought for a few seconds, though, because he had to lunge at Mercutio, who was going in for a fatal blow. He was trying to kill Tybalt.

Romeo had to grab his friend's wrist and twist it away, and he shouted in pain. He left it hanging limp for a moment, before straightening it out and reaching for the sword that had been discarded on the ground, but Romeo tapped him on the shoulder with it. "Lost your sword, have you?" (Tom Felton would recognise the *meaning* of that sentence, if you were wondering).

"Why won't you just let me kill him? If he wasn't there, maybe- maybe- maybe we could have- could have done something... Dammit, hon, why can't you just not be stupid, for once!"

That was when Romeo realised. Mercutio, best friend extraordinaire, top Bro in all capacities, professor of Dudology, etc. etc. loved him. In some non-friendship way or another.

As he was trying to take this in, Tybalt shakily tried to get up and creep away, while Mercutio was *otherwise occupied*. He was bruised in multiple, potentially very awkward places, and he winced as he moved. Romeo's heart cracked open, from Mercutio's almost-confession and the fact that ohmygodhejustkilledsomeone and Tybalt's pain, and it didn't even occur to him not to focus his eyes on him. He averted them, but it was too late, and Mercutio had already whipped around to meet him again. He kicked him again, cripplingly, and grabbed his sword, hanging limply in Romeo's hand, forgotten. Before Romeo knew what was happening-

Tybalt was on the ground again. No prizes for guessing why.

There were two pools of blood now, mixing disgustingly and staining the grass and the ground a red that Romeo could tell wouldn't fade away for a while. And now the love of his life, even if that life had only lasted under twenty-four hours, was the source of one of them.

~~

It took Romeo a moment of clenching and unclenching and clenching and unclenching and why the hell does he keep clenching and unclenching his fists and going to stop now- it took Romeo a few seconds to start moving, pouncing on Mercutio.

"You son of a bitch you fucker why the hell 'Cutio I loved him!"

"I don't care!" Mercutio let the tears flow, not even caring about it anymore. Romeo punched him once hard in the jaw, just to keep him down on the ground, and then sprang up and ran. He left the wine and the blood-red roses - or was that the ground he was thinking of? He didn't give a shit. Not one. This was not to be included among Fractional Fuckery Scenarios. Etc.

He ran along the path, ignoring Peter quietly scurrying away from the scene of the crime, ignoring people staring at the blood on his hands as he sprinted onto the cobbled street, ignoring everything until he was back home, out of breath and sobbing. He clobbered up the stairs, into his room, ignoring his frantic mother, and collapsed on his bed. He beat at the straw under his hands, hitting his fists painfully on the wood beneath it, still ignoring.

When he was done, he turned over onto his back and lay there for far too long. I mean, considering Romeo's mental capacity, it probably wasn't that long, but that's not the point. It was a long time.

He was just starting to debate quitting his emo phase and getting up when he heard a ping. He ignored it, but it happened twice again. He gave up and got off his bed.

It took another ping for him to locate the sound, and he went to the window. He was down there. Mercutio.

Thinking about it, he wasn't entirely opposed to him and his massive crush on Romeo, but he'd just murdered Tybalt. Murdered. Tybalt.

But it had only been twenty-four hours... even Romeo knew that wasn't long.

He turned and walked away from the window. Came back.

Mercutio had been about to turn away, but when Romeo came back, he just looked up at him with a flippity flurry of emotions in his eyes which Romeo couldn't even come close to describing. He just knew he was sorry.

Still, it wasn't enough. He turned and walked away from the window, into the darkness of his room.

~~

As I predicted, that took longer than usual. I had to write most of this chapter in one night, I just didn't have the time. too much fricking work :(

HOWEVER, I've been seeing my friends again. And my year isn't the youngest in the school anymore. I feel so big. Plus we can actually sit on the good sofas now, cos unofficial school hierarchy dictates that year 9s can't sit anywhere decent. We were banished to the desks in the common room. Those were dark days. *Shivers*.

Note about writing; I'm probably gonna edit some of the other chapters just a tiny bit, because I had no idea myself that the Mercutio this was gonna happen! If you see any weird changes, that's why. They won't be big, but foreshadowing and all that.

*Gives everyone jars of rainbow liquid which looks suspiciously like Juliet's and Tybalt's blood* :D<