Lightning flashed before his eyes. The winds shrieked madness, the rains struck hatred, the thunder roared defiance, and the lightning...

The lightning was his to command. His to rule. He was its Lord and Master.

And since his oh-so-precious siblings dared to use what was his element, he ruled them, too.

The doctor surveyed his patient through the viewscreen. Mekt Ranzz, otherwise known as Lightning Lord, of the Legion of Super-Villains, raged inside his hospital room. His locked, carefully guarded hospital room. The binders encasing his hands held a neutralizing agent, preventing the use of his lightning abilities, but did nothing to stop the man's sheer rage and energy. White-haired, pale blue eyes, a face worn by anger and hatred, his body honed through years of training, years of fighting, Mekt screamed his pain in every movement.

The doctor turned away from the viewer.

This would be a long, long case.

"Join me!" he shouted above the winds howl. "Join me!"

"No, Mekt! You need help!" Garth yelled back, trying against hope to reason with his older brother. "Surrender and we can help you!"

Mekt's eyes glowed with power. "If you will not bow, you will die!" Garth braced himself. Mekt sent lightning, power-white, screaming through the air at his brother.

So much pain. The records from Winath had finally arrived and Doctor Mikel Relvas knew he was in for several long days of reading. Everyone believed that Mekt Ranzz's problems were a result of living as a single on Winath, known for producing only twins. Certainly he'd been teased - such a gentle word to describe the actions of cruel children - throughout school. And the reports showed he manifested all the normal signs of one ostracized by his peers.

But not until the lightning had he actually become unbalanced.

"Ayla," Mekt breathed, standing in the center of the room she shared with her twin, Garth. No one was home. His parents were off in the fields and his siblings were saving the universe with the rest of the Legion of Super-Heroes. No one knew he was here.

He lay back on her bed, dismayed it no longer held her scent. But why should it? She no longer lived here. Neither of them lived here. All grown up. He nestled into her pillow, imagining how life could have been. If she had only listened! If she for once had given up her blind devotion to Garth. If she had ever looked at him with shining love in her eyes.

How easy it would be, right now, to strike down this room, this house, with lightning. Destroy his past, leave no ties at all. He started to laugh, and laughing, began to cry.

Doctor Relvas nodded encouragingly as he went over his notes from the day's session with Mekt. He was making progress. Definite progress. The directed thought exercises were revealing.

Winath wanted to send a pair of doctors trained in single-psychology. Relvas considered the request with distaste. Winath had done enough to that poor man. He had no need of their further assistance. The records from Mekt's childhood on Winath spoke plainly enough. If they'd been able to provide proper counseling previously Mekt might have been able to stay sane later.

And maybe not. Relvas rubbed the bridge of his nose. No point in second-guessing his colleagues, esteemed or not. They did what they thought was best. But it was hard to overcome one's own prejudices. And so many twins on Winath believed, without even realizing it, that there had to be something wrong with you if you were a single. And it became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Mekt had been doomed. Now, maybe, he could get another chance.

They were coming for him again. He threw himself at the walls in a frenzy, looking for some form of escape, but the science police cage was too good. No way out.

They dragged him before the judge and court. He laughed when Garth was called on for testimony. He screamed when Ayla's account was read forth. He calmed only when they drugged him. He was tried, sentenced, remanded to the psychiatric care of Quarantine, and forgotten.

There was no way out.

A setback? At the heart of Mekt's rage lay his siblings, never his parents. Was it truth? Or had the Winath counselors nudged him that way, assuming he'd be resentful of the twins in the family? Relvas watched Mekt bang his bound hands against the door, over and over. Was he trying to claw his way out? Mekt's mind was so tangled it was impossible to tell sometimes what were his own, true thoughts, and what were those he'd appropriated from around him.

Hoping for approval from someone. From anyone. Even just the counselors. So of course he resented his siblings. And then it became internalized?

Relvas shook his head. He just wasn't sure anymore.

They wouldn't leave him alone! He could hear them, he could smell them! He pressed his face against the window in his door. There! There they were, looking so smug, so pretty, so loved! Garth. Imra. Lightning Lad and Saturn Girl.

He threw himself against the door in rage, hammered his body against it. Saturn Girl turned at the sound, reaching for Garth's arm. The doctor with them said something. Mekt raged against the door some more.

And it cracked. Months of his beating himself against it had finally weakened it enough. It warped under his body, and the locking mechanism gave way. Mekt tumbled out onto the floor of the hallway, laughing in sheer maniacal delight. Free! And his hated brother so close!

He heard screams. He heard alarms. And a small face bent down to look at him. A child. "Hi!" said the little boy, who looked so much like Garth it almost hurt to watch him smile, "I'm Graym. We were visiting my brother. Now Mommy and Daddy have to talk to the doctors because it's traum'tic. Me too. You look like Daddy, did you know?"

"Hi!" said the little boy, who looked so much like Garth it almost hurt to watch him smile, "I'm Graym. We were visiting my brother. Now Mommy and Daddy have to talk to the doctors because it's traum'tic. Me too. You look like Daddy, did you know?"

This isn't a holo-reality session, Mekt realized, staring in shock at his nephew's eyes. I'm not in a session. I'm really lying on the floor, at my brother's feet. He could hear the running, panicked footsteps of the doctors and orderlies, and laughed as they stopped short. The boy was too close to him; his keepers didn't dare try and bundle him back into his room until Graym was further away.

Imra Ranzz spoke from above his head. "Graym," she said, and her voice was calm, the ice she was known for cloaking any fear she might have, seeing her son so close to Mekt Ranzz, "Graym, come here. Step away from that man."

"But why does he look like Daddy?" Graym asked, not moving.

"Because he's my brother, Mekt," Garth said, slowly.

Graym's eyes lit up. "I have a sick brother too!" he announced, and to the horror of everyone present, leaned over to hug Mekt. Mekt went stiff in shock as the little arms wrapped around his neck. "But we visit him to make him better. We can visit you, too, Unca Mekt!"

It was such a small gift. From such a small little person. A little boy who'd never known anything but love, and knew no reason to withhold it.

"I-" he started to say, then swallowed, his mouth dry and voice hoarse. "I would like that very much, I think, Nephew Graym."

"Graym!" said Imra, her voice rising, and Graym looked up in disgust.

"I'm coming. Goodbye, Unca Mekt." The boy kissed his uncle's cheek before scurrying over to his mother. For a moment the tableau held, then orderlies reached down to help Mekt to his feet, doctors gave orders to prepare a new room, and Garth and Imra hurried Graym down the corridor. Graym kept watch over his shoulder as he was swept along, and Mekt made sure to smile.

Unca Mekt.

He didn't fight as they led him to a new room, and locked the door.