Hayato lets his head drop to the ground again, no longer able to lift it up. He stares at Ryohei's back as he walks over to Gaara just mentally pleading with him to just go away. Hayato was already invalid... if the Tenth loses Ryohei too it could mean the end of the Vongola. Hayato bites down on his bottom lip with with his last bit of strength tries to pull himself forward. Obviously the attempt fails and he falls limp on the ground again.

"Fucking... Lawn-head... get the hell out of here..."

He had to do SOMETHING. ANYTHING. There had to be SOMEONE! Hayato reaches into his pocket for his phone, he stared at the screen for a moment, he couldn't see it... he didn't have his glasses on. Shit! He scrolls through the list and just hits a name, hoping he called someone useful. Unbeknownst to him, he just called Black Jack. Dropping the phone he looks down at his leg, it hardly even looked like a leg, more like a mangled lump of flesh under his jeans... it... didn't hurt anymore. That was bad wasn't it? He felt ill... he didn't want to lose his leg. He COULDN'T lose his leg! His mind going fuzzy, he completely forgot about the commotion going on just a few feet away. Instead all of hit attention was turned to reaching down and trying to prod his leg to get it to hurt again. If he got it to hurt again, then he wouldn't have to lose it...