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imagines-dreams · 5 years

Text

At the School Shooting - Lucifer Morningstar

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of death, school shooting, torture, negative views on the NRA

Summary: Lucifer fell in love with you, a kindergarten teacher. No one would expect you or your job to be involved in any of Lucifer’s and Chloe’s cases. Unfortunately, one of the suspect’s targets works at your school.

Word Count: 3295

You bent down at the knees and smiled at the little boy. “I think that’s a brilliant idea, Milo.” You ruffled his hair. “I’ll ask the other teachers, and we can see if we can have a day dedicated to pajamas and stuffed animals, yeah?”

Your student giggled. “Thank you, Ms. (Y/l/n).”

“You’re welcome, Milo. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok, bud?”

He nodded and ran to the P.E. teacher.

You smiled and waved the coach goodbye. No more children were left to pass along, so you smiled and headed to your classroom. You cleaned up the scattered toys and filed forgotten homework.

“Hello.”

You jumped and laughed. “Luce,” you giggled. You turned around and leaned against your desk. “You know, it’s been months, and I’m still not used to that.”

“Well, it’s been months and,” Lucifer said, looking around the room full of bright colors and toys for children, “I’m still not used to all…” Lucifer motioned to your classroom. “All this. It’s so… domestic. Boring. Dull. Where’s the danger? The excitement?”

You beamed. “I’m a kindergarten teacher, Luce.”

“Well aware of that disgusting fact, darling. Which is why I’m” -your boyfriend pulled you closer by your waist- “very excited to bring you back home later today, hm?”

You shook your head and looked up to Lucifer. “I have papers to grade.”

“Mhm.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your earlobe, and whispered, “You know I’m impatient.”

“Lucifer,” you whined.

“Ah, well, isn’t that beautiful sound?”

You placed your hands on his chest. “Lucifer.”

“Yes, darling?”

You pushed him away and laughed. “I still have work.”

Lucifer stared at your hands on his chest and back at you. He raised his eyebrow and began to laugh. “Uh, sweetheart, I don’t think this is how it’s supposed to go.”

You beamed and turned to clean up the room. Your kids often left many toys on the floor and forgot to place books back on the proper shelves.

Lucifer continued, “You see, how it’s supposed to happen is I appear here, in your classroom.” He snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and arms, preventing you from picking up the puppet from the floor and making you giggle again. “Maybe kiss you once.” Lucifer leaned forward and kissed your cheek. “Twice, if needed.” He left a lingering kiss on your neck. “Then, I don’t know, carry you to your desk, maybe whisper some choice words I only want to tell you.” Lucifer’s honeyed voice filled your ear and tickled your cheek.

You closed your eyes and tried to not pay attention, and even though Lucifer’s tricks didn’t work on you, you still couldn’t help the weak feeling in your knees and lungs and chest. You shook your head. “Luce,” you complained. You craned your neck to the side you could look in his eyes. “Look, as much as I’d love… part of what you said, I actually, really, need to work.” You escaped Lucifer’s tempting and comforting embrace and picked up that misplaced puppet. “That and the kids will come back in an hour.”

“I can do a lot of things in an hour,” Lucifer smirked.

Memories of you and Lucifer together just flashed in your mind, when Lucifer’s phone vibrated. You bit your lip and nodded. “You’re on a case, aren’t you?”

“I’m always on a case, darling, but,” the consultant swiftly took out his phone and sighed, “I do hate being interrupted.” He smiled at you and kissed you quickly and before leaving, he added, “And I promise you, love, I will be back for that fantasy of ours.”

“Of yours, Lucifer!” you yelled back.

Your phone vibrated. Its unbecoming to lie my queen.

You smiled and sent back a devil emoji. You pocketed your phone before your poor king of hell could tell you how insulted he was. Instead, you continued cleaning and organizing. You checked your schedule. Next was an hour of reading time and then nap time.

When the coach returned your students to you, you already had the book to read to the kids ready, a bright picture book with big text and easy words.

“Alright, settle down, children.” You laughed as two of your kids hugged your legs and tried to pull you down. You sat down in your chair and clapped your hands twice. Half of your class clapped twice, so you clapped once again. You counted the number of children while they settled down on the mat. All twenty-three kids were well and accounted for.

You grinned. “Alright, let’s begin our story today.” You held up the big book.

“Paging Mr. Albright. Mr. Albright, please report to the office.”

Your eyes widened, but the announcement principal repeated, “Again, Mr. Albright, please report to the office.”

You gulped. “Unfortunately, there’s been a change of plans,” you explained to the children.

Little Kayla tilted her head. “Mr. Albright?”

You licked your lips and set down your book. You never thought it would happen at your school with your students, but you always knew there was a chance. You’ve trained for this. You smiled at Kayla and got up to lock the doors. “Does anyone remember what Mr. Albright does?”

Your kids stayed silent. They knew. They were aware of what was going on.

You smiled at them. “Don’t worry. We’ve practiced this remember.” You pulled on the door and peeked outside the window to see your fellow teachers doing the same thing. You covered the window with a poster and turned off the lights. “Now, as long as we follow the rules, we’re going to be ok.”

The kids nodded and got to work. Even though most of them were only five years old, they seemed to understand, at the very least, that they were in danger.

Mr. Albright was the name of the man who established the school decades ago. He was dead. His name was used to warn the school when someone spotted a shooter.

Many of your kids lined up in front of the cubbies. Some grabbed their friends hands, and a few grabbed their toys to hold onto during the lockdown. One of them, though, Jeremiah walked up to you. “Ms. (Y/l/n),” he whispered.

“What is it?”

He gulped and lifted his foot and slowly dropped it onto the floor. His shoe lit up the room.

“Jeremiah!” a few kids whined.

The little boy jumped into your already open arms. You rubbed his back. “Jeremiah, it’s ok. You’re ok.” You gulped and set him down. “Let’s remove your shoes, ok?” When he nodded, you removed his light-up shoes and set them down in the closet by the door. You picked him up and walked over to the rest of your kids. “Everyone remembers what to do, right?”

You stayed as close the cubbies as possible, recounted the kids, and closed the door with all of you inside. “Ok, so it’s quiet time until they ask for Mrs. Miller is called. Quiet games and hands close to your heart, yes?”

Your kids nodded and turned to each other to play a game you taught them, chopsticks.

You gulped and set Jeremiah down to play with him.

You let him win every single time and wiped his eyes when his tears leaked. You recounted the kids. All twenty-three. Kayla, a smart little girl who loved building houses out of legos, was reading a book in the dark. Grant, a noisy kid who loved to sing, was biting down on his bottom lip and lightly tapping his fingers against his legs. Little Maisy, a quiet and shy child, was watching some of her friends, Lani and Ursa, as they made shapes with their hands.

It broke your heart that your kids had to worry about this. That they had to go through drills like this once every few months. They didn’t deserve to actually go through a lockdown like this.

Then again, no child ever deserved a harsher reality like the one you were in.

Minutes had passed. No announcement over the loudspeaker.

Grant wiggled his way to you and asked, “Is it over yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. They haven’t called for Mrs. Miller, remember?”

Your student nodded. “I miss my mom and dad.” The five-year-old sniffed and bit his lip again.

“It’s ok, Grant. They’ll be here soon.”

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. “No!”

“Grant,” you sternly whispered. The other kids shushed him, too.

Then, Grant’s eyes filled with tears and he shook his head. “I don’t want Mommy and Daddy here. They could get hurt, Ms. (Y/l/n).”

You blinked away your own tears and held his hands. “It’s ok, Grant. Your parents won’t get hurt ok? I promise.” You looked to your students and smiled. “Nothing is going to happen to you while I’m here.” You hugged Grant and watched as your other kids silently went back to their silent activities.

You knew you’d sacrifice yourself if anything bad were to happen.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The kids screamed. SOme shushed the others, but all of them huddled around you. You grit your teeth and held as many kids close to you as possible. Everyone’s sobs were muffled, but even so, you knew that if the shooter came near the door, he would hear them. You tried to calmly shush your students, and it partially worked, but you couldn’t help the way your heart shattered at their screams.

Then, the fire alarm went off.

Your kids started crying again. “Shouldn’t we-”

“No,” you frantically responded. “No, we’re staying right here, ok? We’re going to be ok.”

BANG!

Your kids cried.

BANG!

Tim cried in your lap.

BANG!

Harriet yelped.

BANG!

Oscar prayed.

You held onto your kids and shushed them as best you could.

...

There were no more gunshots. Not for a few minutes. The sobs were muffled at best, and all of your kids were quivering, too afraid to move away from you.

“Mrs. Miller, please report to the parking lot. Mrs. Miller, please report to the parking lot. All parents are waiting.”

Your kids cheered, but the announcement wasn’t over. You recognized that voice, too. It wasn’t the principal. “And, (Y/n), call Lucifer. Now, please.”

Your kids broke past the door and huddled around the locked classroom exit. “Ok, everyone follows me to the parking lot, ok? Hold hands. Hold hands, please!”

Every kid grabbed someone else’s hand, and you recounted them. Twenty-three. Everyone was ok. You nodded and peeled the poster off the window. You peeked around to see the other teachers doing the same. Two teachers left the classroom and searched the hallways.

Both of them came back and gave a thumbs up.

You unlocked the door and led the kids to the parking lot. As you watched parents scoop up their kids and kids running to their parents, you called Lucifer.

From Chloe’s tired and worried tone, you could piece together a general timeline. The shooter was connected to Lucier’s current case somehow. Part of their plan was the shoot someone at the school you worked in. Lucifer and Chloe arrived during shooting, and the criminal was being punished by your boyfriend.

And since the shooter threatened your safety, you doubt Lucifer was following the law he enforced.

“Darling, now’s not a great time.”

“Why not, Lucifer?” You pursed your lips. “Lucifer, where are you?”

“I can assure you, I’m somewhere far away..” His voice went dark. “Don’t worry, love, this man isn’t going to hurt anyone ever again.”

“Wait, Lucifer!” You took a deep breath. “Look, I hate that person with all of my being. He threatened my students, Lucifer. Only a few of them are barely six, and the rest are five. None of them deserved the fear and pain they just went through, and you’re right, whoever you’re with, they deserve to be punished.”

“Ah, so you see my point of view. Then, allow me to-”

“No.”

“No?”

“Lucifer, you’re a good person. It’s why I love you, and you know that killing him, torturing him right now, is wrong.” You took a deep breath. “Turn him in. Chloe and Dan and Ella, they will make sure to it that they’re punished for what they’ve done.”

“But, sweetheart… I don’t understand. This excuse of a soul doesn’t deserve due process and all that mumbo jumbo. He threatened you-”

“I know. I know, Luce, but… but right now, I don’t need Lucifer, the punisher of everyone’s sins and the ruler of all Hell. Right now,” you sniffed as the gunshots from before echoed in your mind, “I need my boyfriend.” You gulped. “Turn him in, Lucifer. Please.”

Lucifer was silent for a few moments, and if you listened hard enough, you could hear somebody whimpering. Still, Lucifer stayed quiet before he relented. “Tell the Detective I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

You cracked out a painful laugh. “Thank you, Lucifer. I’ll see you soon.”

He scoffed. “Anything for you, darling.”

All the kids were dismissed, being checked by EMT’s and the police. Apparently, the shooter had a list of people he wanted to kill, all people who had “wronged” him in some way. That list included the assistant principal, who “took” his job. Mrs. Langston was critically injured, already in the hospital. Mr. Juarez, the assistant second grade teacher, Mr. Smith, the secretary, and Elena, the student body president, were shot on sight. There were several other students and a few staff members were injured and were being rushed to the hospital. The last number you heard was twelve in the hospital.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

You blinked away your tears and smiled up at him. “You’re back.” You glanced at his hands. “Glad to see you didn’t do anything incriminating.”

“I never said that.” Lucifer unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and sat on the bench next to you. His eyes never left you. “Are you ok?”

The gunshots still echoed in your head. You bit your lip and closed your eyes. You could still feel the children’s tears soaking through the shirt and clinging to your body. You had taught the kids well, though. They knew what to do. They knew the coded warning. They knew to hide in the closet with the cubbies. Even Jeremiah asked you about his light-up shoes. He knew that the shooter could see it.

…

Kids shouldn’t have to think about. They’re only five, for goodness sake. They shouldn’t have to go through drills. They shouldn’t have to worry about their parents coming to get them. They shouldn’t have to worry about their own life at a place meant for love and learning. You were there to teach and to take care of children, not to calm them down when they hear gunshots in the school.

“(Y/n),” Lucifer sighed and wrapped his arms around you. Only when his vest got wet did you realize you were crying. You shook your head and moved in closer to him.

Lucifer held you close. “Nothing’s going to hurt you,” he said. “Not while I’m here, ok? You’re ok. As long as I’m alive, you’re going to be ok.”

You shook your head. “I know that.” You sniffed and gazed up at him. “I just…” You sighed. “Those kids. Everyone in this school. They don’t deserve this.” You gulped. “Luce, one of them died.” You smiled a sad smile. “Elena Martin, she was an amazing kid. Gonna go to Oaks high next year. You know what she wanted to be?”

Lucifer shook his head.

You smiled. “She talked to Chloe last time you were here. She loved her, and she wanted to be an officer.” You blinked a few times. “But, she… she died, and she can’t go to Oaks or prom or even college.” You shook your head. “It’s unfair.”

“I know, darling.” Your boyfriend rubbed your back. “It’s horrifying, and I was the king of Hell.” He gulped. “If you need anything…”

“You’ll be there.” You smiled and nodded. “I know.” You kissed his cheek and snuggled into his chest. “I think… I think I just need to go home.”

Lucifer smiled. “Of course.” He kissed the top of your head. “Let’s go.”

~ - ~

You stared at the memorial. Five people died, three on the site and two in the hospital. Less than a month after the school shooting, the white wall was painted with their portraits and legacies. You left a lily on the floor and smiled at the portraits. They wouldn’t be forgotten. Mrs. Langston, Mr. Smith, Elena Martin, Indigo Newman, and Maria Sarmiento.

“Hey, (Y/n)!”

“Oh,” you smiled, “hey, Xavier.”

“You gotta check out the news. Your club owner boyfriend’s on there.”

You tilted your head. “What?”

“Come on!”

You laughed and followed your co-worker. He was right. A picture of Lucifer Morningstar, your boyfriend, was plastered on the screen. “Renown owner of Lux has suddenly pulled sponsorship to multiple companies and politicians. When asked for a statement regarding why Mr. Morningstar had made such a drastic move, he said, ‘I know evil when I see it, and anyone who supports the NRA, well, let’s just say I’ll see them well after death, if you know what I mean.’ Many other companies have started to follow in Mr. Morningstar’s steps, presumably worried that the owner of the Lux chain will do the same to them.

“Safe to say, Mr. Morningstar is a very powerful individual. He’s scared companies and politicians alike, and his recent actions have caused the hashtag, DeathToNRA, to trend in the Top Ten Hashtags for the last hour.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Classic Lucifer.”

“Uh, guys? All the kids are in the parking lot.”

You turned around, and lo and behold, all the kids, kindergarten to eighth, were outside, crowding over one car and one driver.

Y0u and all the teachers ran outside, and you laughed. “Lucy, what are you doing here?” you shouted.

“Hello, darling! Hold on one second!” He smiled at one of the seventh graders and handed him something. “I’ll be right there! Yes, um, Detective and, uh, Dan, can you hand the rest out, please. Thank you.” Lucifer jumped out of his car and ran over to you. “Hello, my darling.” He kissed you once and gestured to the crowd of students. “How do you like it?”

“Um, Luce, what exactly is, uh, it?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? I knew the children were distressed from the incident, so I’ve decided to come bearing gifts. I was going to give them cond-”

“Lucifer!”

“I know. It’s a shame Ms. Lopez replaced all the gifts with toys and video games and those stuffed toys.”

You laughed. “Oh, thank goodness for Ella. I’ve gotta thank her next time.”

“Thank her? I beg your pardon.”

You laughed and shook your head. “And thank you, Lucifer Morningstar.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

Lucifer hummed against your lips and pulled you closer to him by your waist. His lips left yours for a second, so he could say, “Now that’s more like it, darling.”

You laughed and kissed him quickly. “Thank you, Lucifer. Really.”

“For what?” He smirked. “You need to be more specific.”

You shook your head. “For taking me home after the incident. For being patient with me and my grieving. For pulling your sponsorships. For giving gifts to the kids.” You smiled at your students, who were getting the toys of their dreams from Dan and Chloe. “You’re amazing, Lucifer.”

Lucifer blinked, somehow shocked at that obvious piece of information. He recovered easily with a smile. “I try to be. For you. Like I told you, you’re going to be ok. As long as I’m alive.”

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