August 19, 0930h

        Spud and Dinah sat leaning into one another on the couch, their
eyes focused blankly on the television.  The Sunday morning cartoons seemed
to have a bland sameness about them that kept Dinah from being sure when
one ended and another began.  She had asked Spud a question at one point
about the shows, and he had merely shrugged.  He didn't usually watch these
shows, he'd explained before lapsing back into silence.
        Dinah understood.  It was easier just to sit quietly and draw
comfort form each other's presence.
        Warm breakfast smells wafted in from the kitchen, making Dinah's
stomach growl.  Spud started at the sound, then giggled.
        Dinah leaned back and wrinkled her nose at Spud.  "Something funny,
there, Tater Tot?"
        As if on cue, her stomach rumbled again.
        "Can't you control that thing?" Spud challenged, a smile still
playing on his lips.
        "You mean my tummy monster?  You just be grateful I haven't gotten
*super* hungry yet, 'cuz then -"  Dinah curled her fingers into claw
shapes, wiggling them menacingly and prompting Spud to back away.
        "Oh, no, you don't!" Dinah cried, pouncing on the boy.
        Spud let out a shrieking giggle as he tried half-heartedly to
escape her.  He squirmed as she tickled him until suddenly his own stomach
growled.
        Dinah made a big show of jumping back.  "Who woke up *your* tummy
monster?" she demanded.
        "It's Alfred's cooking," Spud assured her.  "Gets me every - hey!"
        Dinah had used Spud's distraction to pounce again, feeling three
days of frozen tension begin to dissipate.
        Then, abruptly, it rushed back as Spud went rigid, his face
contorting into a mask of guilt and fear as he looked past Dinah's shoulder.  
Dinah 
followed his 
gaze, and, for the first time in almost four days, look
ed into the weary face of her husband.
        "Bruce!" she exclaimed, rising part way on the sofa before
hesitating, unable to read his expression.
        "It's okay, Spud," Bruce reassured.  "Leslie just unhooked the last
machines and she and Babs are getting him comfortable."
        A hint of hope flared in Spud's stricken expression.  "Is he awake?"
        Bruce shook his head, a gesture so heavy that Dinah reached out to
take his hand comfortingly.  "Not yet.  Leslie said it's just about time to
heal, now."
        Spud sank back into the couch, the fleeting hints of happiness
completely lost from his face and his posture.  Dinah put her free hand on
his shoulder and repressed a shudder, noting his expression exactly matched
that of his adoptive grandfather.