How Green Becomes Wood

"I spent two days learning to say floccinaucinihilipilification." Milo replied, hearing Alec's question first, then he turned and looked at Xander, surprised by his question, "I like to take pictures of animals, too. Why?"
 
"Flock-in-hill-pill-vacation," Alec repeated clumsily, his brow knit in confusion. "Flocksin... flock-sin-pill... fiction..."

Xander ignored Alec, who sounded as if his tongue was having a stroke. "We hung out with Peter this weekend, and his dad does landscape pictures. Pretty good, too. Wondered if you did stuff like that or only people."
 
"Floccinaucinihilipilification," Milo repeated, "It means the estimation of something as worthless. You understand why it took me two days to be able to say it. And, no, I don't really do landscapes. I mean, I could, I guess, but I like... the fleetingness of everything. 'Nothing lives long, only the earth and the mountains,'" he said, quoting Black Kettle's death song, "so I prefer not to photograph either. They'll be remembered longer."
 
Alec frowned and continued to try to get his mouth around the word as his own personal challenge now. "The word sure isn't worthless. That's a million-dollar word. Flock..."

"I guess so, unless some of the more extreme tree-hugger types are right," Xander said thoughtfully. He glanced toward the restroom doors as they passed and shrugged out of his backpack. "Hey, give me a minute, will you?" He handed over the pack to Alec, who took it without comment and shuffled toward a handy corner near the lockers to wait.
 
Milo was about to talk Alec through correct pronounciation of floccinaucinihilipilification when Xander walked into the bathroom. He watched for a moment and then walked with Alec to the lockers and leaned against them, shoving his hands into his pockets.
 
"So, how, exactly, do you say it?" Alec asked Milo, still very much stuck on his one track thought.



Xander stepped into the bathroom and chose the first empty stall he came to. There were two others in the bathroom when he entered, but they soon left, muttering and grumbling about classes as the door closed behind them. Xander was just about ready to leave the stall when the bathroom door banged open, and two cackling students walked in. He vaguely recognized their voices as belonging to the senior group, but he didn't know them personally. Not a shock there.

"Did you see that Applebaum today? I'd so hit that!" chortled one.

"You'd hit anything in a skirt if it held still long enough," snorted the other. "Shame she's not interested in you."

"She's not interested in you, either, or any dude. You hear about her?"

"Aw, come on, man, that's just rumors. Can't believe stuff like that. Besides, she don't look it at all. Everyone knows that people like that..."

[This part of the conversation has been redacted for grossness and no way would my fingers type that]

Xander walked out of his stall. The cackling laughter quieted a little then continued when Xander ignored them, walking straight to the sinks, his face a blank mask. He washed his hands and dried them as the two seniors continued chortling and muttering sharp comments under their breaths. Hands washed and dried, Xander turned, walked to the closer of the two boys, and buried his fist in the older kid's gut. The older kid folded like a lawn chair.

"Hey!" the other managed to shout before Xander's other fist caught him square in the jaw.

The first kid started to recover from the sucker punch, but unlike the footballers Xander was used to facing, he didn't know how to take a hit like that, and no one was good with sucker punches. Xander grabbed him and slugged him twice in the head before tossing him against the sinks. He stumbled and crumpled into a heap under the sinks with a gagging whimper. The second kid tried a clumsy swing. Xander blocked, grabbed his arm, then easily shoved him back and slammed his head against the wall.

"I will say this once," Xander hissed in the older boy's ear. "If I catch you talking like that about anyone ever again, I will rip your tongue out and make you eat it. Got it? So use it wisely or lose it."

The kid tried to protest, to say they were only joking, but Xander gave him another hard shove against the wall.

"Ain't no one laughing but you, a*h**, and talking like that is no joke," Xander snarled.

"Come on! Just cause she's your friend," the other started to protest.

Xander interrupted him. "I don't care if you're talking about Applebaum, George Washington, or the friggin' Cookie Monster, you do not talk like that about people. Got it?"

"Okay! Okay, we won't do it!" the kid gasped, his frightened eyes filled with tears.

Xander let go with one more shove and straightened his shirt with a yank. He rinsed off his hands once more and shook them dry as he walked out. The two seniors stayed where they were, shocked and bloody, watching Xander walk away until the door closed behind him.

Alec frowned the moment he saw Xander. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Xander said bluntly, reaching for his backpack.

Alec gave him the backpack, but his frown didn't waver. "Your knuckles are bleeding."

Xander looked him in the eye. "Nothing happened. Nothing's wrong."

Alec gave him a long look before nodding. "Okay," he agreed. They walked down the hallway with Xander stuffing his hands into his pockets. Neither glanced at Milo, though both had the same thought: what would he do?
 
Milo looked at him and at the blood with wide eyes and then repressed whatever initial reaction he had and followed after them, albeit at a quicker pace, and taking many looks over his shoulder. But he didn't ask any questions or speak up much at all.
 
"Here's our stop," Xander said, indicating the classroom with a nod of his head. "This your room, too?" he asked Milo.

Alec glanced toward the speakers as he stepped into the classroom, wondering if Xander would get called over the speaker system this time or if the principal would call the teacher's phone instead. And when. He sincerely doubted that they would get through this day without a call to the principal's office. It was only a matter of time.
 
"I'm next door," Milo said, "see you later. Oh, um," he fished around in his backpack and took out bandaids and neosporin which he handed to Xander. Without another word, he slipped into his own class.

As Alec suspected and feared, the principal did get a call, about halfway through class, and she quietly walked up to Xander's desk and said, while all the over students were working, "The Principal needs to see you. I'd take your stuff."
 
Xander and Alec sat near the back, like usual, and Xander used the opportunity to make use of the supplies Milo had slipped him. A couple of his knuckles had split skin, and the bandaids were helpful there. He tucked them back into his pocket, intending to get them back to Milo when he could.

He wasn't surprised when the teacher walked over to his desk. "Sure," he agreed without argument and grabbed his backpack.

Alec stood to follow, not intending to let Xander face whatever this was alone.
 
"Alec," their teacher said softly but sternly. It wasn't any secret how close they were, and she wanted to let him go too, but she knew he shouldn't be allowed to, "Only he was called. You have to stay here."
 
Alec glanced from the teacher to his brother, the anxiety clear on his face.

"You stay put. I'll see you later," Xander told him confidently. "This'll get sorted out in no time."

Alec sank back into his seat and watched Xander go.

Xander slung his backpack over his shoulder and sauntered out of the room. Outwardly, he was calm, cool, and collected. Inwardly, resigned and conflicted. He couldn't say he regretted bruising his knuckles on those kids' faces. They deserved it. Then again, Dark, Daizi, and his Judo teacher had been trying so hard to get him to reign in his temper. This time, he felt like he was in control of it, but he wasn't about to let them talk like that. It wasn't right! But what was Dark going to say? He pushed it out of his mind for now as he walked to the principal's office. One step at a time. He didn't even pause as he opened the door and stepped into what he was certain would be his expulsion hearing.
 
In the Principal's office, the two senior boys were sitting, one holding an icepack to his face. Bernice shushed them as Xander entered and she looked at the teen, "Why don't you take a seat, Xander." She said, not asking. "I had thought we were past this phase of yours."
 
Xander dropped his backpack next to the chair and dropped himself into the chair with an equal amount of grace. "Well, you know what teens say, ma'am. It's not just a phase," he drawled. He didn't even look at the boys, who were both glaring at him. He looked straight at the principal without a shred of regret. Inside, he was feeling a few bits of regret, but he wasn't going to show any weakness in front of her.
 
"Can you tell us what happened?" She asked, looking back at him with the same intensity. With one hand she silenced the boys, having already heard their side, and then folded her hands together atop her desk. "Because this sort of violence cannot be allowed at this school. I hope you understand how extremely serious this is."
 
Xander's eyes flicked toward the other two. Ah. They hadn't told the full truth, had they? No, of course, they hadn't. Why would they? That would put them in the same pickle as him, probably. He could tell her, but... would she believe him? More to the point, how could he tell the story while trying to keep Sloan's name out of it? There was no way he could have her name tied to this slurry.

"Nah, I don't get it," he said lightly. "After all, you've got other kids gettin' beat on a daily basis unless they get real good at hiding and you don't do nothing about it. Or how about those girls that know how to skin a fellow alive with a few words? Nothing happens to them, so what's the big deal about a nice little bathroom brawl?"
 
"We take all forms of bullying seriously." Bernice told him, narrowing her eyes. "But we cannot intervene if the bullied does not come to us. They," she nodded to the boys, "have done, with their story, so now we are trying to determine the truth of the matter."

Sending the two other boys away, she sat back, "Now will you tell me what happened?"
 
"They got on my nerves," Xander said bluntly, leaning back in his chair. "Does it really matter what happened? I broke a rule, crossed a line, dirtied my hands, and now it's up to you to clean up the neighborhood, right? What's me telling you anything going to change?"

He couldn't tell her. If he told her, she might want to talk to Sloan about... issues, and that would get around school fast. Or talk to Sloan's mother. Xander hadn't even fully realized until recently that that was something Sloan was trying to keep private, but if that was what she wanted, he was going to do what he could to help her. This wasn't his secret to spill, and he didn't know how to do it without throwing her under the bus. Maybe say they were talking in generals? Or about someone else? He supposed he could pick one of the more flamboyant and obvious people in the school and say it was about them. That might work, or it would get someone else in trouble. Better it was just him.
 
She inhaled slowly and rested her chin against her thumbs which formed the bottom of the triangle of disappointment she had made with her hands. During a prolonged silence, she only stared at Xander. Then she exhaled and folded her arms ontop of her desk, "You are very nonchalant about this. Did you just choose to attack them for the fun of it, then?"
 
"Absolutely. I'm actually a complete psychopath, and I've successfully hid it until now," Xander drawled. He raised his brows at her. "Would you rather I was on the floor wailing about what a terrible thing I've done? They were asses. They deserved it. Maybe I shouldn't have slugged them, but I don't regret doing it."
 
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