Lyra was sleeping with her cheek pressed roughly against his shoulder, frowning, Pan curled on her lap. He'd had his forehead on the cool orange gripbars of the bus for a while. The triangle pattern imprinted itself into his skin. He'd never imagined he'd be nervous to see his mother again. But he knew he was happy. This was happy. The bus rumbled beneath them, choking fumes from its end.
Would she even recognize him? He hadn't seen himself for a while now. For how different he felt he knew there had to be some physical change too. He flipped his left hand over. It wasn't just the fingers, he'd probably lost weight too. Would it scare her to see her son? He blinked the thought away and went back to looking out the window.
It should never be strange to go home. He thought. But home was only ever whatever space he could make safe for he and his mum.
"You left me, Will."
It wasn't an accusation, but he felt it like one.
"I'm so sorry, mum." He grabbed clumsily at her hand and wrapped it into a ball with his own two. A sloppy kiss on her cheek, and a smile. She smiled back, loving, the true mother who cared for him when he was little and taught him all the important lessons he needed to know, the woman who had captivated John Parry so many years ago and locked his heart away. "You're back now, Will." She let go of his hands and picked up the cup of tea in front of her. "Mrs. Cooper was very nice. She made good tea and we went to do laundry together once."
"That's great, mum. I'm glad to hear. I was very worried about you. I sent a postcard, did you get it?" The words tumbled out in various shades of awkward rush. "No." Worry flashed across her face, then recognition. She put the tea down and took a seat in one of the cheap center couches. "That's why they moved me. Will, you should know about the post service." she admonished.
And she was gone. His heart broke to pieces, he could feel its shifting shards inside. Seven, just as the knife had broken when he'd thought of her. It was scarred now, his heart the same.
Elaine Parry had been moved to an assisted care facility. Mrs. Cooper had tried, but Will's love was missing and Elaine Parry had deteriorated until the older woman admitted her failed hand and phoned the center. Will had been to Mrs. Cooper's house already, he knew it was too much to ask of her and thanked her for everything she'd done. She gave he and Lyra a ride to the center. Her sympathy overcame curiosity and she'd left the two children alone with a number to call her at when their visiting hours ended.
"Mum, I'd like you to meet Lyra. Lyra Silvertongue. She's - " He caught himself and fought for words in front of them both. "She's the best friend I ever had. I love her, mum." He smiled. "We love each other."
He felt Lyra's hand slip into his own. Pan lept onto one of the center's plastic wicker chairs. Suspicion remained on Mrs. Parry's face. She shifted in her chair and reached for the tea again.
"Oh, Will!" She stopped in mid reach and pulled her son onto the table's edge.
Lyra wrestled for a moment, then stepped away to meet with Pan at the far side of the recreation room. She didn't know what to expect here. This place was as sterile and awkward in itself as Bolvangar. None of the cheap furniture matched the rest, the tables and television sets were in various stages of need, windows occupied the walls as if in decoration. The only true decorating attempt came from the bland curtains draped across the windows and the small plastic flower vases sitting on end tables or the white tile floors. Everything collected dust as a hobby to pass the time here, Lyra got the impression it moved very slowly for these people. And it was the people, not the setting that worried her. She'd never felt uncomfortable around people before, never doubted what the right way to act was. In fact she'd never thought how to act before at all! But from her small instinctual relationship with her own mother, she knew she'd want to be alone with her.
Pan bristled at the thought.
"Not him, that horrible monkey." She explained.
"But it's them Lyra, both of them."
"I know but she was so kind to us then when we caught that sleeping sickness or what it was. She kept us there safe from dangerous people and such."
"She hid us away so only she could care for us, though. What if Will hadn't come"
Lyra flinched. Would this become another question for her mind to dance over: What if they hadn't been found? What if she'd never seen Will again? Worse: what if Mrs. Coulter hadn't been there and Will had been stuck caring for her? Would he have then? Would he have left her to find his father? Afterall, the alethiometer said the most important thing was to find his father. Maybe he would've thought that was important more than them.
"Would we have left if it was him?" Pantalaimon questioned.
Lyra smiled at the boy across the room. He held his mother's hand so gently, but with love not discomfort. They hugged each other again and again. His eyes darted around as she stood, he hunted for ghosts not there, to extinguish them before they showed themselves to her. Even from phantoms he would protect the ones he loved. He would've stayed. He did stay