Chapter Text
Kornmayer smiled, inhaling the rich scent of the Turkish coffee they’d picked up on their cross-country journey to Thailand. He poured himself a cup and feasted his eyes on the clear skies outside, enjoying the time by himself.
He was actually surprised that Klopp wasn’t up yet. The other German was usually awake before Kornmayer even was, he and Jennings always being the first ones up in the morning. So where was he now?
“Hey, Pete,” said Kornmayer as Krawietz walked into the room, taking a cup of coffee. “Say, have you seen Jurgen?”
“No, not since yesterday,” the Pole answered. “Maybe we’re up too early!”
“No, I’m sure I set my alarm right.” Kornmayer frowned as Ludger the barn owl swooped onto the table. “Maybe Jurgen overslept.”
“Are you serious?!” Krawietz shouted. “He never oversleeps. If anything, he undersleeps.”
“Whooo?”
“None of your business, Ludger,” Kornmayer snapped, swatting the owl away. “We didn’t ask for you, we never wanted you, now scram.”
“Whooo?”
“Shut up!”
“Andreas, please don’t speak to Ludger like that.”
“Jurgen!” Krawietz announced. “What took you so long? And where’s Pepijn?”
“Whooo?” Ludger tilted his owl head, hopping along the table. He decided to hop onto Kornmayer’s head, much to his screams.
“Ludger, stop that,” Klopp insisted, grabbing the owl out of Kornmayer’s hair. And to answer your questions, Pete, I had a very good reason for being late.”
Kornmayer crossed his arms, glad that Ludger was out of his hair. “So? Tell us the reason, don’t be slow!”
“It’s Pep,” Klopp explained, not even paying attention to the coffee on the table. “He’s sick--and he promised Florrie that they’d hang out today.”
*
“What took you so long?” Lijnders groaned as Klopp came back with the coffee. He took notice of the owl on the German’s shoulder and shook his head. “Did Ludger hold you up again?”
“No, it was Andreas and Pete,” Klopp corrected him. “And if I’m correct, it’s only a small fever. You should be up in no time.”
“A small fever?!” Lijnders shouted despite himself. “Jurgen, I know you’re an optimist, but this is more than just a small fever. This is going to keep me in bed for the rest of the week.”
Before Klopp could ask him how he was so sure, tiny footsteps echoed through the hall. It was Florrie.
“Lindy!”
“Oh no. Oh no, no, no.” Klopp dumped a bag of sand onto the floor and drew a line in it. “This is my line in the sand! And it’s my plane, so I get to decide whenether I want to turn this place into Copacabana Beach or not!”
“It’s my room!” Lijnders protested. He took a ruler from his bedside and dragged it through the sand. “This is my line in the sand!”
“Sandcastles!” Florrie shrieked in delight as she ran into the room. “Let’s go, Lindy, let’s go!!”
At the sight of Florrie, a sleeping Ludger popped open an eye, hooting sharply at Florrie.
“BIRDIE!” Florrie announced as if it was breaking news. “Can I play with him, boss?”
“Florrie…okay, how do I explain this to you?” Klopp could see this was not going to be smooth sailing. “Lijnders is…he’s sick.”
“Sick?” Florrie asked, tilting her head in confusion. “What’s that mean?”
“Sick is…how do I say it?” Even after half a year of having Florrie at Liverwool, Klopp still struggled to break things down into three-year-old digestible material. “Let’s just say Lijnders doesn’t feel good enough to play with you.”
“But Lindy’s great!” Florrie insisted, not getting the point. She tried to go to Lijnders’ bed, but Klopp stopped her.
“No, Florrie. He doesn’t feel okay, physically. He can’t play with you today.”
“But we were gonna play!” Florrie stomped her foot on the ground, shaping her face into an adorable pout. “I wanna play!”
“Sorry, Flo, but maybe next time,” Lijnders croaked from bed. “Maybe…tomorrow?”
“I WANNA PLAY!!!”
*
“I get myself into the weirdest situations ever,” Klopp ranted to nobody in particular later that day. “I handle all the crap in the world and what does the world do? Throw even more at me!”
“Whooo?” Ludger hooted, hopping along Klopp’s desk. “Whooo?”
“It’s summer, so the boys aren’t here. Sadio will be leaving soon. Pep’s sick, Florrie’s upset now…”
“Whooo.”
“Oh, what do you know?!” Klopp snapped, glancing at Ludger. “You’re just an owl!”
“Whoooo.”
Before Klopp could make another smart comment back at Ludger, the door opened. It was Jennings that dragged herself through the door this time, holding a whimpering Kairo.
“Mona! Come in!” Klopp tried to sound too cheerful as he quickly swept broken mug pieces into a bag. “What’s wrong with Kairo?”
“I think he’s caught something,” Jennings explained, bouncing the toddler in her arms. “And since Kairo’s always with Florrie--shh, you’ll be okay, Schätzchen--I’m worried she may have it too. Have you seen her?”
“She’s in Pep’s room,” Klopp informed her, motioning out the hall. “Pep seems to have the same thing, so little Flo is definitely going to catch it.”
A sneeze echoed from the hall as Vera came in, wiping her hands on a cloth. She seemed tired as well, and was wearing a medical mask along with her usual lab coat.
“We’re going under quarantine,” Vera explained, snapping on a pair of blue latex gloves and taking Kairo, now squalling his tiny lungs out, from Jennings’ arms. “It’s just a cold, but my fear is that it could spread too much. We can’t all be down with colds, it won’t work.”
“What’s the plan?” Klopp queried Vera, becoming all business-like again. “Are the affected going to quarantine, or the healthy?”
“Since the affected-to-unaffected ratio is 1:4,” Vera explained, “Kerry, Robert, Chelsea, Jim and I decided the affected will be quarantined in their own rooms. The O’Haras will be quarantined by themselves, because I don’t want them to catch anything and transfer it. So it’s Pep, Florrie, Kairo and Mona in quarantine.”
“But Mona’s not sick.”
“A-choo!”
“Okay, I take that back. She’s sick.”
“Whooo.”
“YOU IDIOT!”
It was going to be a long week.