Michael made a softly frustrated sound and closed his eyes, pulling the feeling in rather than letting it explode out. He hadn't been able to do that, just four years ago, even; thus the faint cross-shaped burn on his arm that showed up more when he got too tan. He'd been working on it, making his control sharper and more refined, but it still was always a tenuous thing.

But much as he wanted to tell Alex his secret, he didn't want him finding out because Michael did something that scared him.

Opening his eyes, he focused on Alex again. "Maybe he does. But this is something he can't just ignore." Michael held the crudely bandaged hand up with a twist of his lips. "And neither of us has a reputation for making shit up. I can go by myself, if you want, or we can just...not, and go. But you can't just do what he wants you to and go off and enlist. Then, he wins. And he shouldn't get to win."