Not Just Another Day by Shelley H.

Word Count 1,800


A/U Modern Day

Lancer and all noticeable characters belong to their rightful owners. If they belonged to me, I would be living on a hundred acres in the middle of nowhere.

This is a “recycled” story I made for another fandom, but it never picked up. I’ve remastered it and changed a bit of things.

******Trigger Warnings******
This is a school massacre fic. If this is likely to cause any triggers, please don’t read.

Johnny Lancer sat at his desk at the local police department in California. He had finally given up being a Ranger and was back with his family.

His dad was Commissioner and him and his older brother, Scott worked undercover cases.

It had been a hard few years after he gave up a job he loved but this was easier and he knew about when he would be home and that he wouldn’t be galivanting all over God’s green earth chasing after criminals.

All he had to worry about now were the druggies, and gunrunners and kidnappers. But there weren’t many of those in their area anyway. Oh. And his many enemies coming out of the woodwork. Sheriff Val Crawford was as good as any, and took care of his own allowing them the time with their families and going out into the field as much as possible. It also helped that Johnny and Val went way back.

At this time, he was in the process of going over traffic reports, and the recent prisoner transports. His partner, and brother, was in the middle of going through the wanted list and filing away the ones that had been caught. Basically, another boring day at the office.

Jenny Calvin was getting her books from her locker for her second period History class, when Henry James came by her locker to get to his; “Hey, Henry,” she said in acknowledgement. She was honestly the only one who spoke to him, and treated him like a human.

Henry was known as the school punk, with the black clothes, lip ring and bottle black hair with eyeliner.

“Hi, Jenny. I have a question for ya.”

Looking up from her history book, she cocked her head slightly, “Okay, what’s up? Just walk with me to our next class, we can talk that way.”

A rare smile spread across his face, “Sure,” he closed and locked his locker, following her, “Spring formal is next week, do you want to-,”

That’s when the car backfiring could be heard, followed by screams, and the yells of “SHOOTER!” echoed down the crowded hallways.

Henry grabbed Jenny by the arm and shoved her into the nearest locker room, “Stay here, and don’t come out until the building is clear. Only, Jenny, if it’s your friend or me. No one else, understood?”

Jenny quickly nodded as he shoved her into an empty locker, “Henry, where are you going?”

He turned back to her before closing the door, “To try to help others, like you have me.”

Jenny pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed a number she knew by heart; her friend’s work number.

Johnny had his feet up on the desk and hat pulled over his eyes, when his cell phone went off.

“Jenny, shouldn’t you been in History class?” He had made it a point to know exactly what classes his ‘sister’ was in and at what time. He had volunteered, for a short time, at the boys and girls club and they had remained friends, even after he quit.

“Johnny, someone is shooting and I don’t know who it is. Henry locked me in the locker room and told me not to leave.”

At that, the man went from police officer to brother just as quickly as the blink of an eye, “I’ll be right there, Princess.”

By the time that the police force and the emergency services had arrived on scene, there were people on the ground and just outside the doors.

Johnny quickly threw on his vest and flack jacket, as he called out orders to start getting the school surrounded and bystanders away from the area.

The gunman walked down the halls, checking classrooms, shooting anything in sight.

He was so tired of people making fun of him. As if his life at home was all that much better. If anything it was worse; He was tired of being used as the laughing stalk of the county, after he lost his teaching job. He wished his wife hadn’t taken off when he had drank so much he’d passed out on the couch. He knew where this was going to take him. He had thought it all out and he knew he wouldn’t leave the school alive; and he didn’t care.

Johnny walked quietly down the hall, gun drawn. He passed a class room and peeked inside the door, a teacher and her students were hiding at the back of the class.

Silently he motioned for them to get up and leave, thankful that he had found a place yet untouched. Shots rang out again, screams piercing the air, and students ran past him. That’s when he saw the shooter. An adult, probably no more than his own 27 years, held a shotgun, with extra shells clipped to his belt.

Johnny Lancer quickly turned to Johnny Madrid. It was the only way he could save anyone. He ran through a list of names of the teachers he knew, before finding the name of the adult behind the gun. “Rick,” Johhny said, as he stepped into the line of fire, drawing the attention of the gunman, “why don’t you put the gun down? We can talk and can take care of this together. Nobody else has to get hurt.”

Rick only looked at the officer, “You were one of the reasons I lost my job as a teacher here. You sat there at that school board meeting and told them that I had been drinking. Then when I told them that I would be going to an AA meeting, you said nothing when they told me I was being terminated.”

Johnny sighed, but never lowered his gun, “Rick, you had one of the kids up against the wall by his neck, choking him. He was unconscious when the paramedics arrived. You could have gone to jail for abuse on a minor.”

“He deserved it!” Rick spatted, “he was talking during science class, distracting the rest of them from the lesson. He needed to be taught a lesson in respect.”

“Rick, come on, now, that wasn’t for you to decide. If you had of reported him, he would have been suspended. Now, why don’t you put the gun down and we talk about this? There’s no need for anyone else to get hurt.”

Rick looked thoughtful for a moment, “No, Lancer, I don’t think so. You’re on my list as well.”

Teresa O’Brien slammed on her brakes behind the Sheriff’s cruiser, not bothering to shut her door, “Where is he, Crawford?” Sheriff Crawford pulled her behind a firetruck.

“Jenny called and is safely hidden in the locker room somewhere, she’s fine. She said that Henry had hidden her and went to continue evacuating the students.”

Teresa looked over her shoulder, “And Johnny? Where is he?” when no answer was given, her dark eyes flashed, “Val, where is my brother?”

Val sighed, “He went in after the shooter.”

“Who do you think it is?”

“Rick Charles.”

“Val, he threatened Johnny three months ago when he was termed. He blames him, and will do anything to bring harm to-,”

A shot was heard from outside.

Henry walked down the hallways sending people out as quietly as possible.

Rick pointed his gun at a nearby student who was in the process of evacuating.

Jenny screamed from inside the locker room.

Johnny shoved the student into the adjacent hallway.

Rick pointed his gun at Johnny, who was getting to his knees.

Teresa went to run inside, but was caught by Val Crawford.

Rick’s aim was unwavering, and that was when Johhny noticed that his side arm was 10 feet away, under a water fountain.

Johnny’s vision was turning red, having hit the floor hard when he shoved the kid away, and now that he thought about it, his shoulder was on fire.

Rick’s face turned triumphant, as he saw his opening.

Henry slid to the gun on the floor and and without thinking, shot quickly.

Johnny walked slowly to the locker room and got Jenny out.

Teresa saw them before anyone else, and broke away from the sherriff, running to her family.

Jenny assured her parents that she was fine, even as her dad had her checked out.

Henry was being loaded into a police car, and Raylan walked over, “Hey, it was self defense, he can go. It was my gun that he used to protect himself and fellow students.”

The arresting officer uncuffed the teenager, who then had Jenny run into his arms.

It was at that moment, that the injuries that the deputy had received finally came to light and caused him to stagger.

Teresa barely had time to keep his head from hitting concrete a second time before he completley blacked out.

The steady sound of beeping and the whooshing sound of an oxygen tank slowly pulled Officer Johnny Lancer from oblivion.

“John, can you open your eyes for me, son?”

The sound of his father’s voice coming out strained and whispered made him try twice as hard to force his heavy lids open, “Hey,” he whispered.

At his voice, all the pent-up emotions came flooding out, and Teresa cried. “Please don’t ever do that to me again, Johnny, please. We almost lost you; it’s been three days, please, don’t do it again.”

Johnny, still weak from the meds and blood-loss, clumsily reached for her, “’resa, I’m okay. I’m still here and will continue to bother you for another 80 years.”

Jenny came in to see her brother sleeping, and his sister holding his hand, sitting as close to him as she could. Scott was sitting in another chair across from her, and the commissioner stood at the window. A smile crossed her face. Her brother was still with them, and everything was as it should be.



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