I do not own the Simpsons.

This story is dedicated to Marcia Wallace, the talented woman who gave heart and soul to the beloved Edna Krabapple. As the halls of Springfield Elementary will be darkened by the loss of Edna Krabapple the world is darkened by the loss of Marcia Wallace. May you rest in peace.

Darkened Halls

At Springfield Elementary, there were a few sounds that filled the often miserable students with joy. The sound of Skinner screaming in panic was always music to their ears. But perhaps a sound that was even better than that was the beautiful trill of the final school bell.

The second the bell rang to signal the end of the day the students were stampeding down the halls for freedom. Every kid but one that is.

Bart Simpson stood in his usual position in front of the blackboard, chalk gripped between his fingers and an impatient expression aimed at his smug fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Krabapple. From the very first day of his fourth grade year he had been writing lines on the blackboard, whether it be at lunch, after school or before school. A day had not yet passed where he wasn't writing lines. He was pretty sure that chalk dust was now permanently lining his lungs.

After a moment of deliberation Edna finally selected the line of the day. "Graphic novels are not suitable for book reports. You know the drill."

"Fifty times," Bart grumbled, reluctantly beginning the first line. "I still think that I did a fantastic job."

"You went on about the lead female's breasts for five minutes," Edna said flatly, idly watching Bart from the back of the classroom while he did his punishment. "It was extremely creepy and Martin will have to go to therapy for a week-again."

"I was appreciating the gifts women were given," Bart returned.

Edna only rolled her eyes and went back to her marking. "Unless you want to fail the fourth grade I suggest you take advantage of the fact that I'm letting you do that book report over."

Bart did not answer. He concentrated on doing his lines as best he could so that he would not be forced to do them over. He was certainly getting faster at them and only an hour passed before he added the last period with flourish. "Alright Warden, I'm finished."

Edna glanced up and scanned the board in search for any inappropriate messages the child may have snuck in. "Okay Bart, you may go."

"Finally." Bart tossed the chalk into the wooden tray and snagged his backpack.

"And you're going to do that book report properly, right?" Edna called as Bart made his way to the door.

The ten-year-old hellion cast a smirk over his shoulder. "Of course. I'll bring in the best book report you've ever seen."

Edna arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Ha!"

And when Bart stepped out the door, he had no way of knowing that the jaded, sarcastic, world-weary laugh would be the last thing he would ever hear Edna Krabapple say.

…

Pound-pound-pound!

Bart growled softly in annoyance as an insistent hammering came on his door. "Go 'way," he snapped, rolling over and pulling the covers over his head.

He could hear his door as it opened and footsteps coming towards his bed. "Bart! Bart, wake up!"

Bart was too tired to notice the trembling in his sister's voice. He sat up to deliver a scathing remark to his sister only to notice that they were both a half-hour late for school. "What happened? Did your alarm break or something?" Bart asked, knowing that his goody-goody sister would never be late to school on purpose.

"School's cancelled today," Lisa said softly.

Bart blinked and glanced out the window. The sun was shining brightly and the sky was clear. "Sweet! Did the water main break again or something?" he asked, yanking off his pajama top and pulling on his orange shirt, ready to go out and cause havoc on the world.

"Bart…" Lisa struggled to think of a way to say what she needed to say next and realized there was no getting around it. "Mrs. Krabapple passed away last night."

Bart froze, his sneakers dangling from his hands. He stared at Lisa for a moment before (to her shock) letting out a snort. "And you say my jokes are cruel," he said, tugging on his shoes. "Now will you get out? I have to put on my pants…and probably should change my underwear."

"Bart, I'm serious," Lisa said, voice cracking slightly. "Mrs. Krabapple got into a car accident last night. She was killed instantly-"

"Stop it!" Bart snapped, sudden venom entering his tone. "It's not funny!"

"Bart, I'm not joking," Lisa said desperately. "We just got the call from Superintendent Chalmers."

"Shut up!" Panic was developing now, swelling up inside his chest as he came to the sickening realization that his sister would never joke about the death of someone. He shoved past her, running downstairs to demand that someone tell him the truth, that Lisa had suddenly developed a mean streak.

But when he skidded into the kitchen it was to see Ned Flanders slouched over their kitchen table, sobbing heavily with Rod and Todd clinging to his arms, wailing madly. Homer, looking unusually sombre, patted Ned on the back.

Marge quickly got up from her seat upon noticing her son. "Oh, Bart," she said thickly and started towards him.

Bart stepped back, heart pounding so hard that he believed it would burst. No. No no no no no no no.

Edna wasn't dead. He had just talked to her yesterday afternoon. She was expecting the best book report in the world from him. It was all just a cruel, cruel joke to get back at him for all the recent stunts he pulled.

Twisting on his heel, Bart ran from the kitchen, ignoring his mother's startled shouts for him to come back. He burst out the front door, feet pounding against the cement and blood rushing through his ears. He didn't care that was in his pajama bottoms. He didn't care that he looked like a madman, strangled breaths tearing from his throat and feeling like he was going to throw up.

Bart did not stop running until he reached the parking lot of Springfield Elementary. He stared at Edna's parking space, which was bare.

She walked to work. Yeah, that's it. She walked to work and school is cancelled because the teachers decided to throw one of those P.D. days that mean they can party and take a break from students and work. That's it. She's fine. She's fine.

Bart hurried to the front of the school and tried the front door. It was unlocked and he flew inside, stumbling down the halls and approaching the teacher's lounge. He rammed the door open, startling the few faculty members inside.

Seymour quickly wiped his eyes, turning to stare at the ten-year old boy in the doorway. "Bart?" he said huskily. "What are you doing here?"

Slowly, Bart's eyes ran over the teachers-Mrs. Hoover, Mr. Largo, Superintendent Chalmers-all of whom were teary eyed and extremely saddened. His eyes fell on a newly-mounted picture. The golden frame encircled a bright picture of Edna Krabapple, her wry smile so familiar.

Horror and utter devastation crossed Bart's normally cool and collected features. He slowly shook his head back and forth, his breathing going ragged. No, no, not her. Not her. Anyone but Edna.

"Bart-"Seymour started but did not get to finish. Bart tore away, running back down the halls and his chest heaving.

"As you know, Bart, one day your permanent record will disqualify you from all but the hottest and noisiest jobs."

No more snarky insults.

"Oh, don't worry children. Most of you will never fall in love, but will marry out of fear of dying alone."

No more depressing revelations of adult life.

"Bart, you had a month to do that assignment. You started thirty minutes ago."

No more annoyed and exasperated remarks about his dismal school performance.

"All right children, its book report time. We'll go in alphabetical order. Today will be A-M. Let's see, we have no A's. So we'll go right to the B's. Bart?"

No more sly tricks to throw him off his game.

No more chalkboard lines.

"Ha!"

No more…no more…no more…

His chest felt like it was tearing open. He couldn't breathe. His vision grew cloudy but he ran on, hardly fazed by the multiple times he was nearly struck by a car in his blind dash.

Bart ran all the way to the apartment complex where Edna once lived. He climbed the stairs and tried the doorknob, only to find that the door was locked. He threw his small body against the door, over and over, until it jarred loose and he tumbled inside.

With shaking hands he pushed himself up, staring. It was exactly the same. Nothing had moved, nothing had changed since he had last stepped foot inside when Edna had occupied the space. For some unexplainable reason he had hoped to find her here, to believe that the woman was merely tired of life and made up an elaborate scheme to allow herself a break from the world.

But the silence was deafening. It wrapped around him, strangling him, until all he could do was drop to the floor and stare hollowly at the wall.

"Ha!"

His favourite teacher was gone, gone for good. There would be no more witty exchanges, no more pranks to pull on the one teacher who could take it with dry humour and strike back with creative punishments.

"Ha!"

No more…Edna Krabapple.

…

Bart did not know how long he lay on the carpeted floor, still and unmoving. All he knew was that Skinner found him and brought him back home. His mother hugged and kissed him and, when she got no response out of her son, sent him to bed.

And he stayed there for a few days, curled up in a ball with his mind running. How was he supposed to go through school now? No one, no one would ever take the place of Edna Krabapple. Despite his pranks, despite his torturous ways, he respected the woman more than perhaps she even knew. No matter how horrible he acted or how poorly he did in school, she believed in him. And whenever she got fired because of a stupid stunt he pulled or of some other factor, he would always wind up fighting to get her back.

Because he liked her. Because he needed her. No one could bring him as harshly back to reality like she could. No one understood him quite like she did. One of the few people he truly respected and cared about was gone.

He hadn't gotten to say a proper goodbye.

A slow, hesitant knock came on his door. "Bart?" Lisa whispered softly. "Bart, it's time for school."

"Oh, Lisa, I don't think he's ready to go back," Marge hissed, her sudden appearance catching Lisa by surprise.

"I'll go."

Marge and Lisa turned to see Bart rising from bed. "I'll go," he repeated, his voice holding little emotion.

"If you're sure," Marge said reluctantly. "But if you have any problems, you can talk to me or the grief counselors that are going to be at school for the next few weeks."

Bart gave a nod and the two females left to allow him to get ready. Marge placed a hand on Lisa's shoulder as they descended down the stairs. "Lisa…look after him."

"I will, Mom."

…

The bus ride to Springfield Elementary was quiet. The fourth grade class was especially silent, trudging through the halls with downcast heads and watery eyes. One by one, they filed into the classroom, where Principal Skinner was with their new permanent substitute.

Bart found himself stuck in the entryway. He stared blankly at the young, raven-haired woman that would be their new teacher. Her soft smile was sympathetic and her eyes were warm. She was the complete opposite of Mrs. Krabapple.

The room was exactly like Edna had left it a few days ago. The only difference was that she was not there.

"I know you kids are going to have a tough time adjusting," Seymour said, his voice displaying that he too was taking the loss hard. "But life has to move on. That doesn't mean you have to forget Mrs. Krabapple and what she meant to you. She'll always be with you-that I believe very strongly."

"And I totally don't intend to take her place," the substitute piped up. "I'm going to leave this classroom exactly as it is. If you don't feel comfortable addressing me as Mrs. Smith out of respect for Mrs. Krabapple, then Jenna will work fine."

A pang struck Bart in the chest. He was one of the few kids who could get away with calling Mrs. Krabapple by her first name.

Milhouse glanced at the doorway, his eyes misty. He spotted Bart, who looked like he was going to break down very soon. The bespectacled boy caught Skinner's attention and directed it towards his best friend.

"Bart?" Seymour said softly, approaching the child.

With tortured eyes, Bart stared up at his principal. "I can't go in there," he whispered. "I can't. Not without…not without…her!"

And then Bart Simpson, known so much for his cool and impassive personality, broke down into heart-wrenching sobs over the teacher he had cared for so very much. His shoulders shook and his body spasmed with cries that overtook his small frame.

Seymour quickly bent down and lifted the child up, carrying him all the way to his office and setting him gently into the wooden chair across from his desk. Bart lowered his head and cried until he ran out of tears. Hiccupping softly, he finally lifted his head and meet the wet eyes of his principal. "I want her back, Seymour." He whispered, taking the tissues that were offered to him.

"We all do, Bart," Seymour said. "But just because Edna may not physically be with us anymore, she'll always be in you."

"It's not the same. Why did it have to be her?"

"Things happen for a reason. Perhaps it was just Edna's time to go. It will be difficult and it will be hard, but as long as we remember her she will live on."

"I didn't get a chance to say goodbye," Bart said softly. "I didn't get a chance to truly apologize for everything I put her through."

"Bart…I want to tell you something. When Edna believed she hit rock bottom in her romantic life, she told me that perhaps the only man she was meant to have her in life was you. And she seemed perfectly fine with it."

"It's such a nice day today, let's have detention outside."

"It's a date."

A small smile crept across Bart's features as he recalled that moment so long ago. He had felt horrible about tricking Edna into thinking she had met her match and was happy when he finally ended the charade without breaking her heart.

"You were her favourite student Bart. She often said you were a free spirit who didn't see how education and being ordered around by authority would get you anywhere in life," Seymour informed.

"She is-was-my favourite teacher." Bart glanced up at his principal. "And…even after everything that happened between you and Mrs. K…she still cared for you a lot too."

A shaky smile crossed Seymour's face and he took a deep breath. "Are you ready to go back to class now?"

Bart hesitated. "Yeah. But…I don't think I can deal with this new teacher. She's just not…"

"Edna? You're right about that." A wry smile crossed Skinner's lips. "Mrs. Smith says she can't wait to teach you kids about how beautiful and how full of opportunities the world is."

"Ha!"

Bart's head snapped around, his eyes wide. Despite the impossibility of it all, he knew he heard that jaded laugh clear as a bell.

Apparently, so did Seymour. He winked at Bart. "She's here, Bart. And she always will be."

…

Bart was silent throughout the rest of the school day. When the end of the day rolled around and the final bell rang, the students filed out of the classroom. Every kid but one that is.

Mrs. Smith looked hesitantly at Bart, who was staring at the blank chalkboard. "Bart? Are you okay?"

"Do you mind leaving for a while?" Bart asked. "I have something I need to do."

Mrs. Smith gave a puzzled nod and collected her file. Bart waited until she closed the classroom door behind her before getting up and walking over to the chalkboard. He picked up the white piece and started writing, tears dripping down his cheeks, using the neatest printing he had ever used in his life.

I will always remember you Edna Krabapple.

I will always remember you Edna Krabapple.

I will always remember you Edna Krabapple.