Pneumonia

The first sign that Lyra was growing ill was a cough that, within a couple of days, grew from mild to one that was dry and evidently causing her pain. The second was that her appetite began to waver and she started to eat less and less. The third was a fever, which Marisa noticed when she placed the back of her hand against her daughter's forehead to check her temperature.

"No," Lyra whined as her mother lead her in the direction of bed, almost seeming more like a three-year-old than a thirteen-year-old. "Mother, I don't--"

"Hush," Marisa said, pulling back the covers and helping Lyra lie down. "You're unwell. You need to rest, Lyra, or you're not going to get better. A doctor will be here to see you tomorrow."

The golden monkey climbed on to the bed with Pan in his arms, placing the smaller daemon on the pillow and reaching to run a paw over Lyra's dark hair. Usually he hated being so close to humans besides Marisa and he wasn't particularly fond of other daemons either, but Lyra and Pan were an exception to that.

As her monkey continued to pet Lyra's hair, Marisa moved to the bathroom to dampen a cloth and placed it against Lyra's forehead, her hand lingering to lovingly cup her daughter's face before pulling the covers over her.

"Rest now," Marisa said, as the monkey settled beside Pan on the pillow. "I'll be back in a little while, and perhaps then you'll feel well enough to eat something." Her daughter simply wrinkled her nose a little in response, looking rather a lot like her mother as she did, and Pantalaimon, who seemed a bit miffed at both Mrs Coulter and the monkey daemon for Lyra's confinement to the bed, moved to nuzzle the girl's cheek and curl up on her chest.

Marisa gave the golden monkey a look that he knew meant stay with them, and then left the room.

**********************************************************************************

Marisa checked on Lyra throughout the rest of the day and, with a little bit of fuss from the child, managed to get Lyra to eat a little bit of food, as well as keeping her hydrated. When Marisa checked on her one last time before turning in to bed herself, Lyra was asleep with Pantalaimon close beside her and the golden monkey was curled next to both of them, running his fingers through Pan's fur.

The next morning, Marisa found Lyra still sleeping and went to prepare some breakfast for her daughter. A little while later however, Marisa heard a thud and, on going to investigate, found Lyra and Pan on the ground in the hallway, the monkey checking her over.

"She's gotten worse," He said to Marisa as the woman rushed to her daughter's side. "Her fever is burning."

The girl scarcely stirred as her mother picked her up and carried her back to the bed, the monkey following close behind with Pantalaimon, who was evidently feeling the effects of Lyra's illness in himself now as he seemed drained.

"Mother," Lyra said quietly once Marisa laid her down on the bed again. "It hurts..."

"Shhh, darling," Marisa soothed, leaning to place a kiss to Lyra's forehead. She found it rather hurt her heart to see her little girl, the person she loved more than anything else, hurting this way. "You mustn't leave the bed. The doctor won't be much longer, I promise."

An ermine-formed Pan had situated himself on Lyra's chest again and, as Marisa reached to stroke Lyra's cheek, he lifted his head and nuzzled against Marisa's arm. He was one of the only daemons that the woman accepted touching her directly and with a smile, she moved her hand to pet his head. In the same moment, the golden monkey's paw found Lyra's hair again and the young girl reached to run her fingers somewhat weakly through his fur.

**********************************************************************************

"Your daughter has pneumonia," The doctor told Marisa once he'd checked Lyra over. "Thankfully it seems mild enough that she should be able to make a full recovery. It will take her a couple of weeks, but her symptoms shouldn't be as much as of a problem within a few days as long as she rests, eats and drinks well. "

Marisa was given some antibiotics to give to her daughter and two days later, they seemed to be doing the trick. Lyra was sitting up in bed, her appetite had returned and within a week, Marisa was allowing her to have short walks around the house. Pantalaimon's energy had returned too and he was able to amuse Lyra while she was still mostly confined to bed by darting around the room in various forms and bringing her things that she wanted.

Marisa was so relieved to see the improvement in her little girl that when she stepped out of the room with the golden monkey in tow, she pulled him into a hug out of pure glee.

"She's gotten better," she breathed, feeling him shudder in relief and hold her tighter.

**********************************************************************************

The machine room of the Station was filled with the screams of a child and it made Marisa furious  as she walked in.

"I thought you had this under control," She snapped at the nurses, who murmured some excuse as always, and then her sight set on the cage, first on the one with the daemon inside and there the child inside of it was awake and panicking.

And then her stomach sank and Marisa felt like she was going to be sick as she registered both of their features, because she recognised both the child and the daemon far too well.

The daemon was Pantalaimon and the child was Lyra. Her daughter's dark hair was messy from the fight she'd probably put up with the doctors, and her eyes were wide with fear as she continued to scream.

And then Marisa realised that it was her that Lyra was screaming for.

"MOTHER!"

The golden monkey screeched out his own horror at the situation but before he or Marisa could do anything to stop what was about to happen, a button was pressed and the blade came down.

**********************************************************************************

Marisa woke up with a start, sitting up in her bed; her cheeks were damp with tears and her heart was feeling like it was about to burst out of her chest.

She was tempted to dig her nails far in to the golden monkey's fur, to scratch at the skin beneath and feel the pain in herself because at least then she'd have something else to think about besides the dream. But he wasn't nearby. Instead she took a moment to focus on calming her breathing down, and then she registered someone coming into the room.

Lyra. Safe at home, with Pan in her arms and her young features laced with concern, and Marisa almost started to cry again in relief. The golden monkey climbed on to the bed, always knowing what Marisa was feeling, and he wanted to touch her in sympathy but she simply shook her head at him.

"Mother?" Lyra said.

"It's alright." Mrs Coulter opened her arms to invite her little girl into an embrace and Lyra moved into them willingly, curling against her mother and resting her head against Marisa's shoulder.

"I'm...sorry," Marisa said, placing a kiss to the top of her daughter's hair as she held her close. "If I woke you. Everything's alright, I promise."

"Can we stay here with you?" Lyra asked, smiling a little as her attention was caught by Pan, who had moved the end of the bed and curled himself into the golden monkey's arms.

"Yes," Marisa said, and she moved to lie down, still holding Lyra close and continuing to stroke her hair. She knew, whenever she looked at her daughter, that part of her should feel guilty for what the Station was doing, but she simply didn't. Not as much she probably should anyway. Not only was it reasonable in her mind to sacrifice a few for the many, she simply didn't feel anything maternal when she came to other children. The closest she came to feeling anything like that for them was when, on occasion, there might be a child at the Station that looked a bit like Lyra, or a child that said or did something that reminded her of Lyra, and that would make her feel a pit in her stomach.

Mrs Coulter held Lyra in her arms and continued to stroke her hair until she heard her breathing even out, opening her eyes and smiling at her daughter's sleeping face. The young girl often looked younger in her sleep and it made her mother's heart ache with love, and Marisa fell asleep with her nose buried in her daughter's hair.