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"Alex! Alex!"

Scott hammered on his brother's bedroom door. His hand was starting to throb from knocking so long. He paused and switched the plate of pancakes to another hand.

"Maybe he doesn't want to be bothered," Ororo suggested. She stood a few feet away, ostensibly here for moral support, partially curious—about Alex, about how he was, about what he would do to Scott for waking him.

"Alexander! Cole! Summers!" Each name was punctuated with another knock.

The door swung open. There stood Alex, his hair determinedly disheveled, eyes bleary and red. Alex was fair-haired and could usually skip a few days' shaving without much to show for it, but his stubble was clear now. He wore an old t-shirt and his left sock.

Scott looked up at the ceiling.

"Brought you something to eat," he said, shoving the plate in Alex's general direction.

"This is how you're spending Tuesday morning?"

"It's Sunday, Alex."

"Not hungry."

Scott wasn't the sort to be naturally skilled at everything. Not that anyone said so, but he knew he was the slow kid. Ororo was the cleverest student in school and no secret there, Doug sometimes needed an extra nudge but got there in the end, Laurie made average marks and was constantly told to apply herself.

Scott was praised for his effort.

He was dim, and that was okay—but he was not without skills. He made damn good pancakes. And his brother was a rotten liar, because the hallway smelled so good he should have been licking the walls.

"Alex. You don't eat."

"Eat plenty."

"The crap in your room is not 'eating'," Scott retorted. He knew he sounded like someone's grandmother saying so and everyone had a stash, but there were limits. He knew Doug was partial to chocolate chip cookies, and he himself had snacked on Snickers bars to keep up with a seemingly impossible teenage appetite.

Alex couldn't live off the corn chips, Cheetos, and similar junk food stored in his room.

"Goin'a bed," Alex murmured. He barely left his bedroom the past few weeks-from the looks of him, he barely left his bed.

"Just—please?" Scott insisted. He still had his face turned to the ceiling, but even if he could give puppy dog eyes, he doubted Alex would fall for that. "For me?"

"Piss off, Mother."

Scott swallowed. What he was about to say was a very low blow and he knew it. Nonetheless, "She wouldn't want to see you this way."

Alex growled—literally growled at him—and Scott knew he had gone too far, but he did it for Alex's good. Because Alex wasn't taking care of himself anymore.

In a small, vulnerable voice, he said, "Please, Alex, you're my brother."

It was manipulative, sure, but it wasn't false. That was why it worked. Alex gave Scott a filthy look and took the plate.

"And please put some pants on!" Scott called to the closing door.

"Weird thing to show off," Ororo commented.

"He's not showing off," Scott replied. "He's just depressed." His face was still crimson.

Ororo shrugged and said, "I've seen bigger on the boys in the village." After an awkward moment in which Scott didn't know what to say and Ororo let him wait longer than was necessary, she continued, "Alex has his breakfast. Can I have pancakes, too?"

"Of course. D'you mind warming up the syrup? I'll be right there, I just want to tell everyone else in case they're hungry too."

Ororo gave him a look that reminded him she was really the last person who should be cooking anything, ever, including the syrup, but she went to try. Scott went to knock on doors and hopefully not wake anyone up.

He tracked Hank down in the lab and gleaned from distracted half-sentences that he would join them in a moment, thank you, just busy now. And something seemed to be exploding, but Hank was calm about it, so Scott didn't worry. He just backed away slowly.

Professor Xavier wasn't in his study, so Scott, after a moment's hesitation, decided to avoid his bedroom. The Professor could read their thoughts, he would know about pancakes. Plus when he and Ruth were together, as far as Scott could tell, it was in his bedroom. Not that Scott gave much thought to these things—he certainly tried to avoid it!—but he noticed a while ago that Ruth changed her sheets very rarely and…

Well.

So he headed to Ruth's bedroom in case she was awake.

Scott did not know that, over the past couple of weeks, they had started to favor her bedroom. Lost in thought, he didn't realize he was hearing the buzz of their voices until he caught his name.

"Scott does not like things to change."

He paused. Was that true? Of course, Sean, but… that wasn't about change… and Alex, he was suffering. But then, Scott had taken a while getting used to the other kids when the school first opened, so he guessed Ruth was right.

Did that mean they were going to have more students? Scott wanted to tell them that he didn't mind, that the others were his friend now and he wanted everyone to have the opportunities he'd had.

That meant admitting he was eavesdropping, though.

All of this went through Scott's mind in a second and before he had a chance to take a step back and sneak off, he heard the Professor answer:

"He's spent most of his life in care, he must know this is coming."

Okay… that wasn't about new students, was it?

Scott knew eavesdropping was wrong and still might have crept away, except that he heard, "Charles, this is too much to spring on him at once. He deserves to know. And so does Ororo."

"This isn't about Ororo, and until I'm certain—"

"This is absolutely about Ororo. She will understand, but she will want to know why she is still your foster-daughter and he is not."

Well, that was a baseball bat to the chest.

"Because he's a boy." Professor Xavier sounded annoyed—must have been, to give a smartass remark. "Until I'm certain, I shouldn't speak to either of them about it."

This time Scott did creep away. He'd heard enough-and wished he hadn't.

He was going back.

He knew he wouldn't have to go back to the same orphanage in Omaha. That didn't make it much easier.