Babs heard the elevator start up over sounds of the eavesdrop line she had set up to monitor Oracle activities. She wasn't actively listening to the constant stream of chatter as Dinah fielded calls, but the sound of conversation was a welcome distraction from the beep and hiss of the machines surrounding her husband. She hoped it wasn't Alfred coming down. The old gentleman looked as drawn and worn as she had ever seen him when she had relieved him a little over an hour ago. She suspected he had slept less than she had, although Leslie had hounded them both to rest their bodies. "What good will you be to Dick when he wakes up if you've taken ill yourselves," she'd scolded. When he woke up. Babs wanted to believe that Leslie would not give false hope, but Babs found her faith faltering. There had not been a flicker of Dick from this body beside her, kept alive by a respirator forcing air into his congested lungs. She hadn't seen or heard any sign of her husband since he had called almost 48 hours ago to say he had found Spud. The elevator doors opened, and Babs fixed her face into a weak smile of greeting. Spud stood there in his pajamas, half wrapped in a blanket from his bed. His hair was mussed, but his deeply shadowed eyes gave lie to the idea that he had been sleeping. He looked out at Babs through the open elevator doors, his expression pleading. Babs wordlessly held out a hand. It was enough of an invitation. Spud moved slowly, his wide, hollow eyes focused on Dick, but he headed unerringly for Babs outstretched hand. When he reached her, he didn't take her hand, but leaned his head into it. Babs let her fingers smooth his stray curls. "Still couldn't sleep, little man?" she asked gently. Spud continued to stare past her to the man lying on the hospital bed. "Is he - is he done jerking around and stuff?" "I hope so. Leslie and the other doctors think the infection is under control. His fever is down." Spud finally turned serious hazel eyes to Babs. "Is he going to die?" Babs sighed heavily. "I don't know, Spud. I hope not." "Me, too." He moved closer to Babs' chair, leaning down and resting his cheek on the arm rest. "You want to sit up here with me?" she offered. He looked up at her. "Aren't you going to send me back to bed?" "Do you want to go back to bed?" "No." "Well, then, do you want to sit here with me?" "In your chair?" "If you want." Spud gave her a mingled look of desire and fear. "Won't I hurt you?" "Hurt me? No, Spud, you won't hurt me. You'll just need to remember to shift around since I won't know if my legs go to sleep." She managed not to let irony tinge her tone. "Okay." Spud scrambled up awkwardly as Babs braced her chair. He settled into her lap and leaned his head against her chest, carefully turned so he could still watch Dick. Babs wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin against the top of his chest. Drawing comfort from each other, they began another night's silent vigil.