27: "Get Back in Bed!"
All it took was one cough from Langenscheidt for Kielholz to explode into a frenzy. "Are you coming down with something again?" he asked.
"No, I don't think so," Langenscheidt replied. "It's a bit dry today, that's all."
"Oh, no—" Kielholz touched Langenscheidt's forehead, "you're very warm. You need to go back to the barracks and lie down."
"Erich, I'm perfectly fine. It was one cough. You don't need to—"
"You are probably developing pneumonia again. We need to take care of it as early as possible. Go to the barracks."
Langenscheidt sighed. This didn't feel anything similar to his pneumonia the previous year, but he went to the guard barracks anyway to keep Kielholz from dragging him there. What has gotten into him today? Maybe Klink needs to give him something to do.
He lay in his bunk, still feeling alright. Why am I even listening to him? This is ridiculous. I should just go tell Klink that Erich needs to be occupied. Before he could get out of his bunk, Kielholz appeared at his side.
"You're sick. Don't move," Kielholz said.
"I am not sick! You are just bored!"
"Did you even eat breakfast today? I can go make oatmeal for you."
"I just had breakfast! Go away or I will tell Klink!"
"Klink would agree with me if he saw how you look right now! You are pale and all skin and bones!"
"Erich, I've always been pale and skin and bones! This is nothing new! Quit fussing and let me up!"
Kielholz was grinning maniacally and pouring a reddish medicine into a tablespoon. "I have your medicine here. It'll be alright, Karl."
There's something wrong here. Langenscheidt pushed Kielholz away, sending the medicine flying all over the barracks. As he got to the door, he looked over his shoulder. His blood froze when he saw Kielholz's eyes glowing.
"Get back in bed!" Kielholz growled before lunging at him.
Langenscheidt jolted upright in his bunk, gasping for breath. He looked around frantically, seeing the other guards fast asleep. His heartbeat relaxed, and he got out of his bunk to check on Kielholz, seeing him asleep as well. Langenscheidt let out a heavy sigh of relief. Just a bad dream. Honestly, I have had enough of bad dreams for a lifetime. He crawled back into his bunk, then heard muffled giggling. Oh, I recognize that laugh…
Just past the foot of his bunk, lying on the floor and covering his face as he tried not to burst into laughter, was the ghost of Sergeant Westworth. Langenscheidt's face reddened with anger. "Did you do that? Did you give me such a horrible dream?"
Westworth couldn't hold back any longer, and rolled onto his back, holding his stomach as he howled with laughter. "You should've seen the look on your face when you woke up!"
"That wasn't funny! That was a terrible dream you gave me! And I thought you weren't supposed to do that anymore!" Langenscheidt threw a pillow at the ghost, despite knowing it wouldn't do anything.
"Oh, I can still give you dreams. Most of the time, I choose not to." Westworth picked up the pillow and threw it back. "I couldn't resist. I knew we were approaching the one-year anniversary of your pneumonia and… I was bored."
"Honestly, Westworth, sometimes you're a jackass," Langenscheidt grunted before attempting to settle back down to sleep.
"Alright, alright. I'm sorry."
Langenscheidt rolled his eyes when he heard Westworth still giggling. You're not sorry, you clown.
There was silence in the barracks for another few minutes, then Kielholz woke up shouting, "Damn it, Westworth! I don't act like that!" followed by Westworth bursting into laughter once more.
Author's Note: That's a wrap on my contributions to Sicktember. I had fun with this, though it was exhausting making sure I had something to publish daily. I did skip a few prompts because I had no good ideas for it, and I don't fully feel as though these are my best work, but plot bunnies have been spawned and I might work on a more serious hurt/comfort story at some point. For now, after this combined with Erste Geister, I should probably work on something a bit less painful for Langenscheidt and Kielholz.