Work Text:
When Barbara came in late at night to pick up something that she’d left in her classroom, she did not expect the light to Janine’s classroom to be left on.
Even worse, she did not expect Janine to be sitting in that classroom, at her desk, staring into space. She thought she’d gone home at a normal time with all of the other teachers.
Nope. Janine was still there.
Knocking on the open door lightly, she walked into the room. “Well, it sure is bright in here…” she started slowly, trying not to scare Janine.
Janine didn’t move.
Barbara slowed to a stop by the young woman’s desk, waiting a few moments to see if she would actually turn and talk to her. When she didn’t, she raised an eyebrow, before leaning down a little. “Janine…?”
Janine’s eyes slid up to look at Barbara briefly, and that was all the older woman needed to see that the young teacher was exhausted.
“Janine, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
Janine’s elbows were on the desk, her chin resting on her closed fists, and she pulled in her lower lip to start worrying it between her teeth.
Barbara opened her mouth to ask again, maybe prompt Janine one more time to see if she would answer if he asked again, but then she was talking before Barabara could.
“I can’t sleep.”
Barbara’s mouth closed, and her brows furrowed.
When Janine realised Barbara still wasn’t talking, she decided to continue. “I, um…” She quickly wiped away the tears that had started to form in her eyes, against her permission. (Rude.) “I had this nightmare about my class—”
“Oh for goodness’ sake, Janine—”
“They all disappeared.” She scrubbed furiously at her face, trying to stop the tears. Even she didn’t quite get why she was crying over this. “I was teaching them their tables, just following my lesson plan, and then they all disappeared one by one. And just before they disappeared, they would say things like… like how I’m failing them, how they’re not getting what they need. Sometimes a parent’s head would pop through the doorway and say the same thing, that I’m failing these kids, that they’re not getting beter, that they won’t meet state standards—”
“Janine,” Barbara cut in, stopping her rambling mid-sentence. She was standing in front of her at the desk now, directly in her line of sight, so that Janine couldn’t look anywhere but directly at her. She even bent down, leaning on the desk so that Janine was forced to look into her eyes. “Are you listening?”
It took a few moments, during which time Janine was furiously wiping away the tears still spilling down her cheeks, but eventually she gave up and just looked up at Barbara, showing that she was listening. Because she didn’t trust herself to quite speak.
“You. Are an excellent teacher.” She gently took Janine’s face in her hands, making sure the young woman stayed looking at her. “I need you to know and trust that this is true. No matter how many parents complain about your teaching style, no matter how many kids decide to rebel in your classes or refuse to do the work. No matter how many teachers complain that you’re ‘doing too much’. You are doing a wonderful job. Your work, your heart, your everything is important to every single one of these children. And don’t you ever forget that.”
If anything, that only made Janine’s tears fall faster, but she nodded, her squished cheeks bunching up in Barbara’s hands.
“I didn’t hear an answer.”
“Yes ma’am.” Janine’s voice was shaky, but she was smiling now, bashfully. “Thank you.”
Barbara smiled softly. “It’s alright.” She wiped Janine’s tears with her thumb. “Now, let’s get all these lights turned off, and get you home. It’s no good sitting up here all night. Not good for those gorgeous eyes of yours.” She let go of Janine’s cheeks, gently bopping her on the nose, before straightening up and heading for the door. “Come on.”
It took a little while, and Barbara was standing at the door for a good couple of minutes, but Janine eventually got up from her chair and joined Barbara at the door, her bag on her shoulder, her body swaying a little. Barbara gently put an arm out to steady her.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” She switched the lights off and gently guided the young woman towards the building’s exit. “You are in no state to drive.”
“…Okay. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, sweetheart.”