A/N: I'm cross-posting this fic originally published on AO3, largely for the purposes of sharing that another Red Queen fan and I are considering starting a RQ-focused Discord server, for chatting about the series and sharing fics, but also potentially for hosting events (like fic exchanges, challenges, etc). At the moment, we're just trying to gauge whether there's any interest in this, so if you would be interested, please let me know in the comments, or send me a PM to let me know!

He is exhausted . Not just because he's been sleeping even worse than usual for the past few days, but also because the endless social and political navigations that every trip back to the Nortan States requires are… exhausting . Not to mention fighting in skirmishes to help ensure that the Lakelands stay subdued. He's starting to feel like he's getting too old for all of it.

He can't wait to get home so he can collapse onto his bed and sleep for as many hours as his stupid, traumatized mind will allow. His sleep has gotten better lately, but he still doesn't sleep nearly as much as he did before…

Even more than his bed though, he can't wait to see Mare . He always hates when he has to leave her, and he's been trying to arrange things so he has to do it less, but sometimes it's unavoidable. But this trip was particularly difficult. He's been gone for almost a month, and he misses her so much. And he can't help but wonder how much things have changed since he left. Her belly had really been starting to swell, turning into a gently sloping mound as their baby grew, but he hadn't been able to feel any movement then. He had been in the habit of talking to the baby too, and now he worries that the baby won't remember him. Do they even have memories before they're born? Can they forget? If they can, he's sure his child will have forgotten him by now. The thought makes his throat burn.

The jet lands with a hard bump on the tarmac, and Cal puts his hand up to the shelf above the seat to prevent his head from hitting it. His joints creak as he stands, grabbing his duffel bag from the storage shelf and swinging it over his shoulder. There aren't many people on the jet tonight, so he's able to march down the narrow aisle without much delay, which suits him just fine.

Outside, the night air is cool, as it often is during the summers. He likes it – it's a nice change from the oppressive heat of Norta and Piedmont this time of year. The soft breeze ruffles his hair. He'd cut it short again before he left, but now it's grown long enough that the ends are starting to curl. Mare will be pleased; she likes it better a little bit longer.

Cal walks across the tarmac and suddenly he regrets not asking anyone to pick him up. He'd purposely "forgotten" to tell Mare what flight he was on because he didn't want her coming out this late to get him, not when he knew she was even more tired than he was. But he should have asked someone else – Kilorn maybe, or Davidson. There's a shuttle that will take him to the government complex, and from there it's not a long walk to his house, but the prospect of it drains every remaining ounce of energy from him, and he feels like he could drop to the pavement right here.

"Hurry up, Calore!" a voice calls, and Cal looks up to see Kilorn standing at the gate of the airfield, leaning against the metal post that holds up the wire fence.

Somehow, he manages to propel himself forward, walking quickly across the pavement until he reaches his friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Mare was annoyed that you forgot to tell her what flight you were on, and she knew I'd be able to find out," Kilorn answers with a shrug as he pushes away from the gate. "I wasn't exactly going to let her come get you at this ungodly hour, so I said I didn't tell her the time. I'm guessing you didn't forget either."

"No," he replies, smiling easily.

"Alright, well come on," Kilorn says. "Let's not waste any more time. You look like the walking dead and I'd rather like to get back to my own bed as soon as humanly possible."

Cal continues to grin, wordlessly following his friend to the shiny black transport parked on the side of the road. He tosses his duffel in the back before climbing into the passenger seat as Kilorn turns the key, sparking the engine to a low purr. The late hour means that silence is perfectly acceptable and not at all awkward, which Cal appreciates, because he cannot possibly summon the brainpower for coherent conversation right now. It feels like an impossibly short amount of time before they're pulling up outside his house, although truthfully Cal wouldn't be surprised if he had dozed off for some of the drive.

"Thank you, Kilorn," he says as he pushes the door of the transport open and climbs out.

"No problem," he answers, stifling a yawn. "I know exactly who I'm calling next time my flight gets in at 2am though."

"Anytime." He grabs his back from the back and shuts the door, turning away from Kilorn with a final wave goodbye.

Cal doesn't bother hefting his bag over his shoulder this time, letting it dangle from his fist as he twists the key in the lock of the door and pushes it open. He drops the bag right there, deciding that he'll leave it downstairs for now, though on second thought, he nudges it under the table in the entryway so nobody trips on it. Everything in it is dirty anyway, so he'll just leave it until tomorrow and then do laundry.

He climbs the stairs slowly, his knees creaking with each step, and Cal feels his limbs growing heavier the closer he gets to the landing. He is beyond ready to sink into bed beside his wife and sleep for ages. When he opens the door to their bedroom, he is surprised to find Mare sitting up in bed with the light on and a book propped open against her knees.

"Hey," she greets, looking up with a tired but warm smile.

Cal doesn't answer, but he quickly moves over to the bed, dropping his knees onto it and crawling across until he is close enough to kiss Mare.

"Hi," he murmurs against her lips. "Missed you."

"I missed you too," she replies, tipping her head back to kiss him again. "Go get changed."

He groans as he does what he's told and slips off the bed, but he knows she's right. His clothes are grimy from flying across the continent and he would absolutely regret sleeping in them. He shuffles over to the chest of drawers and pulls out some soft pants, discarding his dirty clothes as he swaps them out.

When he turns around, Cal is surprised to find that Mare had also slipped out of bed. She's standing in one of his shirts, worn out until it's soft and thin, and it hangs down around her hips. Even though the garment is several sizes too big for her, the slope of her belly pulls at the fabric, and he can't help but gawk at her. She is radiant . Her hair is tied in a long braid that hands over her shoulder, the ends still dyed a faded purple, and her tan skin looks like it's glowing, as if her blood were gold and not red. But mostly his eyes fix on the visible bump of her belly. She's grown so much since he left, and there's a little pang of sadness that he missed it, but mostly he's just absolutely in awe of her and the increasingly real fact that she is growing their child.

He steps closer, his hand outstretched to her. She smiles as his fingers graze over her belly, tracing the curve of it. Mare reaches up to cradle his cheek, her thumb brushing over the soft skin and bristling stubble. After a moment, she pulls away, turning back to the bed and pulling back the quilt that covers it, and Cal lets his hand trail across her waist.

"Come on," she says, sliding beneath the blanket. "Time for bed, you're exhausted."

Cal hums, following her gladly, and when he lays down he feels the exhaustion settling into his bones, weighing him down and pressing him into the bed. He has just enough energy remaining to wriggle on the bed, moving until he's comfortable with his head resting on Mare's chest, her heart beating against his cheek. He can hear the steady rhythm of her pulse and finds it as reassuring as always. Cal slips his hand beneath the shirt she wears, spreading his fingers across Mare's belly, his palm smoothing over her skin.

As he is about to fall asleep, he feels a fleeting, fluttering pressure against his palm. The feeling wakes him abruptly, and he props himself up on his elbow, looking at Mare with eyes wide with incredulity.

"Was that…?"

She smiles tiredly. "Yeah, he does that a lot now. Especially when I want to sleep."

Cal settles back into the bed, waiting with bated breath to feel the baby move again. A moment later, he feels a harder push against his hand, a tiny foot or hand hitting out. Despite his exhaustion, he lays there, fascinated by the movements of their child, studying them and trying to discern the difference in feeling between a kick and a turn.

Eventually his eyelids grow too heavy to keep open. Mare's breathing has long since grown steady as she drifted off to sleep, and he feels himself following suit. It's been a long day – and a long several weeks – and it's long past time for him to get some rest, no matter how reluctant he might be.