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Getting kidnapped was not something Mercutio had on his bucket list. His bucket list of things to do before he died (or turned thirty, whichever came first) was long and although rapidly shrinking this particular evening was not helping.
“Gentlemen, might I ask you what this is all about?” He asked the men surrounding him amiably. They glowered down at him, and he just sighed, and tested the ropes.
“My what a lively bunch you are. What do want from me? I’m sure I will by happy to oblige whatever your demands are.”
“You’re going to tell us exactly what the prince is up to.”
“How, my kinsman? You think he tells me anything of great importance? Think he tells anyone anything?” Mercutio let out a bitter laugh.
“Oi,” one man snarled, his hand on the knife at his hip. Mercutio, sobered.
“You know not my uncle, that man does not spill secrets, much less to his least favorite nephew. You ought to do better research before you snatch someone off the streets.”
The fist the buried itself in Mercutio’s stomach came as an unpleasant surprise. He felt his head droop as he screwed his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe.
“Tells us about the woman,” another man demanded.
“Woman?” Mercutio choked out. “The diplomat from Pisa?”
“That’s the one,” the first man spoke again. “Tell us what they’re plotting and we don’t kill you.
“Aw, is that a promise?” He teased. This got him a strike across the face. Mercutio just sighed, trying his luck once again on the ropes. The damn things just bit into his wrists.
“No.”
“Look, he’s dinned with her twice, and something about a plea deal, that’s all I know.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” the man with the knife snarled, pulling out.
“Gentlemen, please, let’s be civil-“ Mercutio started, sweat tricking down the back of his neck, pulling at the ropes in a meager attempt to escape.
“I think a little more pain will make you looser lipped.”
“Good sirs I’m as loose lipped as they come, I’ve kept none of my friends secrets, say did you know that this Montague lad isn’t-“
Unfortunately he never got to finished telling them about Benvolio’s great secret.
——
His shoulder hurt from landing on it as the chair tipped over. He head pounded from the blow he’d received in his capture. His cheek still throbbed, alongside the cuts that now decorate his chest. Despite how Mercutio wish to mourn his poor bloodstained shirt, he had more important issues to address.
His escape attempts had been futile, the ropes too tight and chair unfortunately made of strong wood. Mercutio, for once in his life was beginning to realize he was in real danger, and there was nothing he could do about it. He supposed he could cross ‘realize something deep about myself’ off the bucket list, but that was no fun at all. He was hoping for a much more entertaining realization, not that he had never been helpless like this before.
“Ready to talk yet Escalus?” The words echoed concerningly in his slightly ringing ears. That.. wasn’t good.
“If he didn’t speak with a knife in his chest he doesn’t know,” the first man who spoke, their leader, Mercutio assumed, said, looming over Mercutio, his arms crossed. “We’ll stick to the ransom plan, send him back and make a run for it. Our employer might spare us but we’ll need to run for the hills in the Prince seeks revenge.”
“All that won’t be necessary,” an aching family voice spoke, sending tingles down Mercutio’s spine. Oh boy.. thing were about to get very complicated.
“Who are you?!?”
“How did you get in here?l?”
“What do you want?!?” The men cried, weapons suddenly drawn. Tybalt stalked out of the shadows, a dark look on his face.
“An acquaintance of mine heard there were some people looking to capture a certain man and hold him for ransom. My kind companion knows I hold a particular despise for that man you know have captivate.” The men seemed to relax upon learning of Tybalt’s dislike of Mercutio.
“My, how you wound me.” Mercutio felt Tybalt’s eyes lingering on him as he casually approached.
“You expect us to believe you’ll pay more than the Prince of Venice for an enemy of yours?” The leader scoffed.
“No,” Tybalt said with a smirk. “I expect you to let me close enough to do this!”
Mercutio watched as Tybalt punched the leader in the stomach, then bashed the man’s head onto his knee as he keeled forward.
“I will not let you sell him into that cruel man’s debt,” Tybalt dodged a punch narrowly, pulling his knife in a fluid motion and slicing the second man in the side who dropped to the ground.
“Nor allow you to ever lay a finger upon him again,” after a brief scuffle, disarming and slitting the throat of the third man. Tybalt turned to Mercutio, eyes narrowing at the sorry sight.
“You belong to me,” Tybalt declared. Mercutio cocked an eyebrow. “You are my enemy to fight and no one else’s.”
“Oh really now~” Mercutio teased. This was new. Tybalt blushed a little and Mercutio grinned because Tybalt? Well he had been on the bucket list for a long time.
“Do I have a say in this matter?”
“No,” Tybalt snarled, making his way behind Mercutio. “Shut up.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. I wasn’t even saying anything!” Mercutio tipped his head back, catching only a glimpse of red hair from the corner of his vision. “Maybe I like you when you’re possessive.”
“Don’t you dare-“
“Hm I think I will actually. I could get very used to being rescued like this. It’s quite nice, having someone else beat my enemies for me.”
“You ruin everything. I’m here so my greatest enemy is indebted to me.”
“So you’re not here because I’m yours?” Mercutio asked softly, gently. He knew the cat well enough to know when not to push. The ropes dropped free and Tybalt pulled him to his feet, hands lingering on Mercutio’s for longer than necessary.
“Maybe I’m here because you belong to me too,” he admitted, voice small and tentative.
“I knew you liked me,” Mercutio teased lightly. Tybalt just elbowed him. “Ow,” he mumbled. “My wrists hurt. And my head, god I think everywhere hurts.”
“I can fix that,” Tybalt said, and Mercutio glanced at him, finding a smirk on the Capulet’s lips and a gleam in his eye. “C’mon.”