Alex woke up and wandered to the bathroom. For a moment he forgot about the containment suit and made his way to the shower, but his gloved hands were a quick reminder. "Crud." The suit absorbed a sweat and dirt, and then his plasma incinerated everything. There was no need to shower or use a toilet when he wore the suit. As disgusting as that felt at times.

He turned on the faucet. At least he could wash his face and hair. It was not quite the same, but the simple act was all the refreshment Alex would ever get.

The pile of ash came back to him. His logic was so flawed. Safety should have come first, not the imprisonment the suit represented. Yesterday could so easily have resulted in a loss of life. Why did he run after a vacuum cleaner?

There was a knock on the door. He wanted to ignore his visitor, but after yesterday that would only cause alarm. Alex left his private bathroom and answered. "Scott. You're here early. What can I do for you?"

Scott looked uncomfortable. This was clearly not something he wanted to do. He adjusted his ruby sunglasses and looked somewhere – not at Alex, regardless of which direction he faced. "I was wondering if you wanted to talk about what happened."

"No." If anyone understood how Alex felt, it was probably Scott. The elder Summers brother could not go anywhere without ruby-quartz goggles, sunglasses, or visor. Scott was going to live the rest of his life unable to see color. "Not really."

Scott nodded and started to walk away. Jean had probably sent him over, Alex surmised. Before he was a fair distance away, Scott turned back to his brother. "You don't need to keep secrets. Remember, I'm your brother. I care about you."

"I know," Alex answered automatically. In the interim silence, he realized that Scott had put two and two together, and gotten five. Scott thought had thought that the loss of control was gradual, rather than sudden. "It was unexpected, Scott. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late."

"Our powers are influenced by our emotions. If something's bothering you..."

"I'll let you know." Both knew that the promise was a lie, but Scott accepted it anyway. Scott talked about his problems with Jean, and Alex had ... for now, Alex had his friend, Hank.

Xxxxx

Hank was probably in his subbasement lab. Midway to the hidden elevator, Alex was intercepted by the green-haired woman. She wore another of Jean's sweaters. "I heard about what happened. Are you alright?"

"Fine." It seemed whenever they ran into each other, Alex's mind was elsewhere. He did not even remember her name – or had he never learned it to begin with? "Your eyes match your..." he trailed off when he realized he was observing aloud. She looked at him expectantly, so he finished the sentence. "Hair." The word sounded very lame in his ears. Of course she knew both her eyes and hair were green. "I'm Alex."

She smiled at the awkwardness of his introduction. "Lorna. I like your shirt. It looks like a holograph or something, with those moving rings."

Alex looked down at his clothes and groaned. He had five-dollar pants and cheap boots on. His only shirt was the top half of his containment suit. A white, filled in circle was at the center of his chest. There were two concentric rings around it, which served as indicators of how much energy was currently stored. When the suit was more white than black, Alex had a problem. "You learn to hate it when you can never take it off," he said with more bitterness than intended.

"I'm sorry," she said, realizing her slight. "That's the suit you had on at the Indiana facility, isn't it?"

This was not the conversation Alex wanted to have with her. Discussions with Lorna were supposed to go in a different direction. Just when he started to forget his situation, she had to bring it back up. He really needed to see Hank. "Look, I have a few things to get done. We'll talk later, okay?"

Xxxxx

Alex walked into the medical bay to find the room already full. Hank was sitting at a computer, with Jean and the Professor behind him. They were involved in a conversation that suddenly cut off when Alex entered.

Professor Xavier wheeled his chair around to face him. "Alex. Good of you to join us. We were just discussing your unusual case."

Not sure he wanted to hear what they had to say, Alex made sure to take a seat before responding. Hank had run some tests on Alex's Mutation after yesterday's incident. Apparently there were at least partial results this morning. "What have you found out?"

"The rate that your body absorbs cosmic radiation is constant. After Indiana, you should not have had enough energy to overwhelm the armbands."

Jean walked over to a monitor and pointed to a line graph. "We accessed Danger Room records and measured your total energy output every time you fully expended yourself, starting with your return to the Institute. Take a look at the results." The line was almost a steady increase. Alex never noticed so dramatic a change.

"I just thought I was getting better at control."

"So did we," Jean admitted.

Professor Xavier spoke again. "Over the years, I have developed a pet theory about the nature of Mutations." His voice commanded attention, and his confiding tone made the veracity of his statements undeniable. Professor Xavier did not need psychic powers to convince others of his point of view. "In order for Mutations to be so varied, the cause cannot be solely genetic. I believe that the manifestation of a Mutation is heavily influenced by the psychological state of the individual. As an individual matures, so does the Mutation."

The theory made sense, but Alex was not sure how it applied to him. "So you mean Mutants become more powerful as we age?" Since physics dictated that the energy in the universe was constant, Alex had to be getting the extra power from somewhere. "How does that apply to me?"

"It is possible that your body has adapted to absorb more than just cosmic radiation. If this is true, then it will just be a matter of adjusting the composition of your armbands to compensate."

Alex tried not to feel too hopeful at the Professor's suggestion. Even if the armbands were fixed, he would always be in danger of the same thing happening again. He needed a more permanent solution. That was the main reason he had left the Institute after graduation, and it had eluded him in all that time. If he let the others help him, perhaps he could finally have the freedom he wanted. "No more crutches," he decided. "I prefer the armbands over this suit," he tugged at the black material to make his point, "but the armband and suit are both crutches. I don't want to live like Scott, always afraid of losing my glasses."

Jean flinched at the analogy. Hank, on the other hand, immediately spoke out in favor of Alex's decision. "In the words of the sculptor Michelangelo, 'The promises of this world are, for the most part, vain phantoms; and to confide in one's self, and become something of worth and value is the best and safest course.' Learning self-reliance is always a wise choice."

Professor Xavier was also supportive. "Angelica's Mutation is to convert ambient radiation into microwaves that she can manipulate. Her control has grown considerably in her time here. I suggest you ask her to guide you in your efforts."

Alex held back a laugh; a reversal of the mentor-student role was almost fitting.