The Pain of Survival

[madimpossibledreamer]

Xander is totally sanitizing things to sound less Hellmouthy and panicked when he realized that most of his stories (“almost eaten by preying mantis teacher”) aren’t exactly normal-human friendly. He could’ve mentioned Faith except he doesn’t do that, and he figured any of the homicide attempts on his person would be overly alarming to a normal person, even (or especially) a cop.
I’m not sure I’m using the word solastalgia correctly but it’s the closest thing I could think of.

Main Points:
Buffy/Devil May Cry/Resident Evil/Background NCIS Crossover
Chapter Summary: Navigating conversations without mentioning The Weird is a tricky thing.
Word Count: 720
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Pre-Leon/Xander

          “So, you said you weren’t a native to our nation’s lovely capitol.” It sounds like Xander’s as awkward at small talk as he is, which makes for a nice change. Still, it’s not a good topic, though Xander wouldn’t know why.
          “Yeah, small town you probably wouldn’t have heard of right outside of Raccoon City.” He tries to make it as non-awkward as he can; knows he’ll probably fail anyway. As he has, judging by the wince in response.
          “That, uh. That you probably can’t go back to on account of all the lingering post-nukage radiation lying around?” Shame shared, huh? Somehow that makes him feel a little more cheerful, despite everything.
          “That’s the one. I don’t exactly miss it, but…” He shrugs helplessly, unable to put into words how it feels.
          Fortunately, Xander nods right along, commiserating, rather than pitying. “If it makes you feel any better, my little mehtown in the middle of nowhere got swallowed by a sinkhole a few years ago.”
          “…Sunnydale?” He remembers reading about that, wondering if Umbrella was somehow involved, since there hadn’t been known geological problems in the area. Sure, they probably weren’t responsible for every single little thing that went wrong, but he’s more than happy to blame them. “…I…don’t think that’s how any of this works, but thanks anyway.” Despite what he says, there’s a comfort in knowing he’s not alone.
          “Solastalgia,” Xander mutters thoughtfully, and Leon blinks.
          “What?”
          “Solastalgia. The pain of losing the solace of home. Sure, it might’ve been blah city, but it was your little slice of home in the wide, wide world.” As Leon keeps staring, he adds, “Call me the font of useless trivia.”
          Leon shrugs. “Hey, I think it’s plenty cool.” It helps that he’s not condescending about it like Hunnigan (not that she intends to be, but sometimes she acts like he’s a complete rookie that needs his hand held, and it’s been a while since he’s been that guy).
          “Oh, man, if you’re thinking I’m actually smart, I’d be better off leaving you delusional and not speaking the words I’m currently speaking because that’s the first time anyone’s thought that.” Poor guy sounds like he’s babbling at this point. “I didn’t formally learn the languages or anything; I didn’t even go to college.”
          “College isn’t for everyone. I’m not an academic myself; as soon as I graduated high school I went for the police academy.” His companion stiffens a little; if he hadn’t been eager to please and people-watching for years, he might not’ve caught the motion. Fortunately, he’s not the starry-eyed kid he once was. Once he started looking for it, small town cop mentality was everywhere. “That only lasted for a day, since the whole Raccoon City thing happened on my first day on the force.”
          “And here I thought I had bad luck. You, too, are the universe’s butt-monkey.” Leon stifles a snort. Put that on the list of things he didn’t expect to hear today.
          “And why’s your luck so bad?” He’s never been big into schadenfreude, but he’d wager the guy has some interesting stories to tell, given his appearance.
          Xander looks like he’s panicking a little, probably trying to find a story that’s not completely embarrassing, because they’ve had enough of that today, and finally settles on something. “Aside from the obvious?” He points at the eyepatch. “Well, I did work construction for a while, and the boss wanted me to work on a holiday because they were in a rush to get the Cultural Center done…” and launches into a tale of one particularly memorable Thanksgiving.

          Willow actually claps her hands when he returns. “You look happy! It worked! I’m so happy for you!”
          “I’m not sure I’d say that, Will. For all I know, he’s straight. But at least I made a friend.” A little hint of something bleak peeks out, like he doesn’t think he’s worth any happiness, but he does sound happy.

          “You actually managed to meet someone?” For a second, Leon’s tempted to argue with the assumption, but it occurs to him that Hunnigan will at least stop bothering him if he lets this go, just this once.
          “I’m hurt you doubted me,” he responds instead, clutching at his chest theatrically, and she rolls her eyes, still smug and pleased.