Soccer/Football Imagines

Miroslav Klose ft. Erik Durm [~] Baby Mama

A.N. I don't know if anyone has ever done this before but I got the idea from the world cup picture of Erik with Miroslav's two sons.

Miroslav led the group around the field warming up for practice. The German national team had come off a loss at the 2010 World Cup and were hoping that the 2014 World Cup, which was at the time two years away, would fair better for the Germans. As the returning squad members stretched, Joachim Löw walked over to the team, trailed by a younger looking man. "Boys! Come say hello to your new teammate!" Joachim yelled. The group jogged over. "This is Erik Durm, you're new teammate. He's a defender but we'll test him a bit up at midfield."

The German national team introduced themselves and Erik fit in. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred over the next two weeks until one day, Miroslav's twin boys came with him to practice. The two didn't bother anyone or cause any trouble but they did start up a talk amongst teammates. "Hey, Erik, you sure you're not Miroslav's kid, you look just like Noah and Luan," Thomas Müller joked.

"Yeah, who knows, maybe we should get a paternity test, just to make sure," Bastian input. The two were joking, obviously, but it started up a whole inside joke amongst the German teams until Miroslav and Erik had gotten tired of it. They sent in DNA samples to a paternity test lab, just to stop the jokes, and waited for the results patiently. Both had nothing to fear. Erik had known his parents his whole life, and his father growing up was definitely not Miroslav Klose. Similarly, the only children Miroslav had had were Luan and Noah.

The results came in, and Miroslav decided to open the results in front of the whole team to put the joke to rest. Pulling out the sheet of paper, Miroslav recited the typed message. "To Mr. Miroslav Klose: The test results state that you are the father of . . . Mr. . . . Erik . . . Durm . . ." A hush fell over the group as Erik grabbed the paper.

"It must be a mistake, they must've mixed it up," Erik stated, though he didn't sound to sure of himself. An awkward silence fell upon the whole group while Miroslav and Erik looked at each other. The next day at practice, Joachim, sensing the tension in the air, called over the team.

"Now I don't know what is wrong but you're all acting weird. So someone either fess up or you're doing push ups until someone spills."

"Well, you see, Miroslav sent in DNA samples of him and Erik because we always say how alike they are to each other . . ."

". . . And we got the results back . . ."

". . . And Miroslav is Erik's dad."

Joachim looked between the two of them who refused to meet anyone's eyes. "Well, if anything that should make you guys closer. Go run four laps to get it out of your thick skulls and then we'll get to work." The German national team ran off while Joachim stood with a determined look on his face. Two weeks had passed and the team was back to its normal joking nature, though Miroslav and Erik kept their distance from each other. Joachim walked into the locker room and the room fell silent. "Miroslav, Erik, meet me in my office."

The two exchanged a look before following their coach out of the room. Sitting behind his desk, and motioning for the two players to seat themselves, Joachim pulled a manila folder from a drawer in his desk. He dropped it on the table and pushed it towards the duo. "I had an assistant of mine figure out if you two truly were father and son after the whole team's dynamic fell out of sorts. It turns out you two are father and son, as the paternity test had stated."

While Joachim was talking, Miroslav opened the manila folder to find an old picture. "Erik, you were adopted at age eleven months. Your real mother is Helma Emma Buchholz. She was sixteen when she had you and you were taken from her care after police determined she could not provide for you after she was kicked out of her parents house. She currently lives in Stuttgart, not far from here. Her address is here if you two were interested." The now official father and son looked at each other with sudden interest. "This is all the information I have and I don't want to have this cause anymore rifts in this team." The two nodded and walked out of the office. Practice was over and the two walked back to the locker room to gather their belongings.

"Are you going to look for her?" Erik asked Miroslav.

"No."

"What do you mean no, you have no wish to see her, ask her questions?" Erik replied.

"Look, Erik, when I met your mother we were kids at a party. We both drank the drugged punch unknowingly and that's all I remember. I woke up the next day and she wasn't there, I haven't heard from her since. If she was going to tell me she would have done it when she first found out that she was pregnant."

"She probably couldn't contact you!"

"Anyone can contact anyone after twenty years of searching," Miroslav stated. "Besides, why do you want to find her? What has she ever done for you? She abandoned you, Erik!"

"She didn't abandon me! I was taken from her!"

"You don't know that!"

"The only way we'll know that is if we go find her. If you don't want to come, that's up to you, but I'm going to get answers," Erik stated, walking towards the locker room to change and grab his car keys.

"Erik, wait." Erik turned to look at his father. The older man rubbed his face tiredly before stepping forward. "I'm coming with you." The two changed quickly and drove silently to the address Joachim had given them. The GPS led them to a small two story house on the outskirts of Stuttgart. Miroslav parked on the road and opened his door, Erik following suit. The two men walked up to the front door, which was painted a dull yellow color. They shared a look before Erik rang the doorbell.

"Just a second!" a feminine voice shouted from the other side of the door, muffled by the door. A tense ten seconds passed before the yellow door peeled back and a small woman stepped into the frame. "Can I help . . . Miroslav?" the woman asked, shocked. She turned to look at Erik before she started to tear up. "Come in, come in!" she ushered the two into the house, closing the door. She led the two into the kitchen and motioned for them to sit at the dining table. "Can I get you two anything?"

"We're good, thank you," Miroslav spoke. She took a seat across from the two of them. Silence emanated until Erik spoke up.

"I'm Erik, and apparently you're my mother," Erik said.

"Yes . . . I believe I owe you, both of you, an explanation." She let out a sigh. "My name's Emma, you probably already knew that. I met your father at a party. We both got drunk and I woke up naked next to your father. I dressed and ran home, thinking nothing of it. I found out I was pregnant and my parents kicked me out. I tried to contact you, Miroslav, but you had already been signed to a big football team. I finished high school from the homeless shelter and had you, Erik, at age sixteen. The government found out about you and they came one day and took you from me, saying I couldn't provide for you. You were only three months old, Erik. I got a job as a waitress, and eventually got a good paying job as a secretary. When I went to the orphanage they told me they had sent you away, they said you had already been adopted. I tried to find you, but they said that information on the people who had adopted you was not available to the public," Emma explained. Tears had started to fall from her eyes as she paused her story.

Erik stood up and hugged his mother. She gasped for a second before hugging him tightly. "Look how much you've grown," she smiled through tears, cupping Erik's face in her own. Miroslav stared at the mother-son moment while he reflected. He was currently happily married with two children. Then you add in another son, whom he knew nothing about, and a one-night-stand girl that was also the mother of one of his children. His life was messed up. But, at the same time, he couldn't help but not regret his actions. He had another son, whom he hoped he would learn to love dearly.

Emma stood up, drying her tears. Looking around, she smiled at the fact that their small branch of the Klose family was reunited, for the first time ever. As time went on, Erik grew close with his birth mother. Miroslav and Emma became friends, both pursuing other relationships but remaining on good terms. Life was good for the Klose family.