Gallant clasps Rex to his chest and informs Lopez that he'll be leaping out of the Rig of Peril. If she doesn't like it, then she'd bloody well better be prepared to catch a flying baby and escort him to safety. Mighty Morphin Power Lopez isn't totally sure her hand-eye coordination is up to the task, so she just registers her disapproval but does nothing particularly inventive to stop Gallant. "Go," Weaver urges. Steeling himself, Gallant takes his Wonder Leap, landing with a splash on the pavement and huddling there in his Wonder Hush Puppies while a nearby power pole teeters yet more precariously overhead. A giant explosion begets some nifty fireworks overhead; I think that means either Lopez or Weaver is horny. Gallant ducks while the sky blazes. Suddenly, everything falls quiet, except The Storm's pelting rain. "Is he okay?" Weaver yells. "I got him!" Gallant rejoices, then collects himself and flees for the one working ambulance on the scene. It seems the transformer just blew, but no one's entirely sure whether the entire circuit is dead. Weaver stays with Vicki.
Mark stitches Daniel's chest laceration in silence. "You okay?" he finally asks. "I see a lot of fathers who come in here, and they're upset when their kids are hurt or missing." Unlike Dipshit Dad, who's mostly just pining for some Joey and could give a shit about Daniel. Mark clarifies that these distraught parents often say cruel things in the heat of panic that they don't actually mean. Daniel corrects Mark to say that Dipshit Dad is his stepfather, not his father, and sadly says he's just the stepchild nobody wants. Joey's their real kid. If this were Disney's ER, he'd break into song. "And that makes you..."Mark starts to ask. "A pain in the ass," finishes Daniel. I'm having a hard time feeling sorry for him because the child actor is so devoid of passion, but at least it's easy to hate the parents. I'm halfway there with this subplot. Mia barges in and asks Mark whether the chest x-ray is back; Mark says that Daniel's results look fine, and that he's just polishing off the set of stitches. Mia hasn't even looked at Daniel, going to great pains to avoid laying eyes on her son. "Mom?" Daniel whispers. She still refuses to look, asking Mark -- without a shred of real concern -- if Daniel is totally fine. "Mom, I'm sorry," Daniel tries again. Mia glares at him, deeply resentful that her shithead offspring is fine while the sainted one is missing. She scolds Daniel for being out by the river, complaining that he never uses his head. "I should've been the one that drowned," Daniel sighs. "It should've been me." Mia spits, "Yes, but it wasn't, was it? It was Joey." Oooh! Hateful woman. She says it like it's an empirical fact, and as if she wouldn't entirely mind if Daniel floated off down the river and out of her life. I hope her spiteful tubes are tightly stapled shut. Annoyed, Mark ushers her out of the room for a very mild lecture.