Well, I have no idea where my page went. "User does not exist"? I EXIST!! Stupid page… Here's the end to the story nobody likes. Oh, but it's not over, not yet.
Roy had never really fallen asleep, but he felt as if, just now, he was waking up. His bright purple gaze had dulled to a miserable, melancholy stare. He felt like ass, and probably didn't look much better. Despite his wounds and his exhaustion, he wouldn't let Dr. Mario come near him with bandages or needles. No, he was content to stay close at Marth's side, dreading the moment that his dear friend and lover would awaken.
Roy remembered little about how he got back to the Melee house. The good doctor reminded him, though, that he had carried Marth all the way home from "wherever you two were." Unfortunately, Dr. Mario was completely unprepared to deal with a severed limb, especially something so delicate and intricate as a human hand. "I'm sorry, Roy, but there's little I can do for him," he had grimly reported. "The hand is just dead. Even if I reattach it, he won't have feeling in it or control over it. He'll probably be better off without it."
Marth hadn't woken up since he passed out on the way home, and Dr. Mario said that he probably wouldn't wake up for several more hours. Roy was glad, though; he didn't want Marth to wake up. He knew that his friend would be mad at him, would hate him, for what he'd done – even if it was just a horrible accident.
Roy was dirty and sweaty and bloody from all his battles and struggles. He was just a complete mess, but he didn't care… He was content to stay by Marth's side, holding and stroking his left hand while just staring at what used to be his right. The drone of the monitors around him had long numbed his mind, and he noted little more than Marth's soft breathing.
"I'm sorry, Marth," Roy whispered for the hundredth time that evening. "I'm so… So sorry…" He wasn't sorry only because of Marth's handicap, but also because, well…
Tomoyuki was still alive.
-End Part One-