Back at Valium Villa's new Tumor Town exhibit, Mark's crashing out on the couch as Susan tries to pamper and feed him. "Starve a cold, feed a tumor," Mark rambles, barely conscious. Susan sits down next to him with a hot bowl of soup, but he'd rather take a nap. "I'll help you upstairs if you have some soup," she bargains. "No, right now, right here," Mark says, which would be a come-on if he wasn't as energetic as a beige carpet. Susan is in the middle of lecturing Mark about getting rid of Rachel for the night, because he needs a watchdog after the Gamma knife therapy, when Mark grouches, "Oh, great." His right eye isn't closing. And yet? He immediately blinks. This is the best show ever. "I've heard of cowboys who sleep with one eye open," Susan deadpans. I kind of laughed there, but the rest of the episode's been such a downer that I feel I'm entitled to a chuckle. Mark's mildly wounded by her humor, because he's upset, but he's actually more heartened to have her there at all, nurturing him the way Elizabeth should be. Delicately, she tapes his eye closed, then watches him in complete distress. The pain of his deterioration shines clearly in her eyes, as she stares at someone she once loved. She carefully covers him with a blanket, settles back on the couch and lets him curl up with his head on her lap. Absently, she rubs his tumor scar.