August 17, 0926 Dinah sat in Spud's chair in Barbara's workroom, pulling her feet onto the seat and her knees to her chest. The house, for once, was quiet. Doctors had come and gone, leaving a passel of machines in their places. Leslie was back at her brownstone for a few hours of much-deserved sleep. Alfred was downstairs on vigil. Spud, heavily sedated, was sleeping dreamlessly in his room, Buckshot and Evil Spoon standing sentry on his headboard. Tim and Cassandra were making their appearances at Wayne Enterprises. Even Babs had managed to lie down for a few minutes and rest her exhausted body. That left only Dinah, running on a few leftover dribbles of adrenaline and more coffee than she should have been allowed to have. She sighed and rolled her neck, feeling the leather of the swivel chair brush her skin. She blinked gritty eyes and reached out to spin the mouse of the nearest computer. The screensaver cleared away, leaving a panel of settings. Dinah clicked a box to sound an audio warning if a new Oracle call came though and sagged back in the chair. The line had been quiet the last day. It was no secret amongst the hero community that Nightwing and Oracle had some sort of relationship. The silence in the room was almost palpable and it was pressing down on Dinah. She lifted the conventional telephone and quickly dialed the Manor. Alfred wouldn't be there to answer. But maybe... maybe. The answering system picked up. Dinah listened to the message and quietly replaced the receiver. Forty miles north, Bruce Wayne stared at the telephone and tightened his mouth. No news was good news.