Work Text:
For all that William Lancer played an instrumental role in the lives of every young person to walk through the halls of Casper High, very few knew much about the man. Not that he led a secluded life or refused to reveal any details about himself.
They just never asked.
To his students, he was just a dry, old, old fashioned, poetry loving, detention doling vice principal and English teacher. Another teacher whose long, boring lectures they hated to sit through.
They didn't notice that the picture of his "sister" was just him in a dress. Or perhaps, that one they did notice, but were too kind to comment. But certainly they didn't see the picture to the right of it.
The one of him next to three students. Three students who never thought they would graduate from high school, let alone with flying colors. Yet under his encouragement and tutelage, they flourished, all getting generous scholarship offers from his alma mater. He had gotten the picture along with three letters exuding with overly flowered (but grammatically correct) language of gratitude just as they finished their first semester. A week after news of their car crash—a head on collision with a van driven by drunk freshmen—came home. He kept it on his desk, one of only two real mementos of any kind, to remind him that the impossible often occurred.
His pupils were aware of a few aches and pains that came with age, but what they didn't know was the true extent of his injuries. The fall that ended his gymnastic career although the cheering squad at Casper High refused to let him relinquish his role as team captain and arranged things with the principal to let him wheel out the spirit sparklers attached to his wheelchair in a stunning solo run during his senior spirit week.
Lancer's students never realized that he was a gamer to the highest degree, winning the new and improved version of the extremely popular Doomed five times running. He was the only user to have gained thirty five silver keys to the apocalypse and consequently had been personally contacted by the makers of the game to advise them on the next upgraded version.
And that wasn't even including the bizarre connection that had given him to the director that told him that with the right script in his hand, he could voice a wicked villain. Perhaps a red demon. Perhaps twin bounty hunters. Who knew where this new avenue could lead if he played his cards right.
His teaching always came first, though. Before any personal gain or comfort. They were his life and meant everything to him.
But they never knew. They never bothered to ask.