Insomnia [Nero/Mandana, PG]

[igrab]

He cannot fall asleep.

He came home and she was already in bed; he felt an unexpected sinking in his heart as he realized he wouldn't get to talk to her, wouldn't get to lift this off of his chest. Surely, if he could only tell her, talk to her a little, then all of this would seem less weighty.

But she's been so tired, lately, and he can't fault her for that. The baby is unruly, a sure sign of a strong Romulan child, and she needs all of her energy to keep up with it.

He pushes back the blankets, crawls onto the bed until he's wrapped around her midsection, his cheek flush against the warm heat of her pregnant belly. She is soft and warm and perfect, and he can feel her love like a palpable energy, knows that her dreams have turned for the better. She writes him that she has nightmares during his absence, and hearing it makes his heart twist in his side. He wants her only to be happy.

The baby stirs, beneath his pressure, and he feels a little thrill of joy inside, as he always does when he comes face to face with the evidence of his own lineage taking root. He remembers the look on his father's face, when he'd brought him the good news. His mother had even wept.

Partnerships like his are so rare in the Romulan Empire. They're just well-off to avoid being persecuted, but not enough to be important. He knows this, knows the kind of bootlicking and elaborate excuses that Ayel has to constantly make to stay with him on the Narada to avoid his father's insistence that he join the army like a proper citizen. He knows this personally since he became the head of the mining guild, because the Senate is a pit of snakes, and he hates every single one of them just as fiercely as he loves his wife, his home, and the beginning of their future.

A future that is so close to ending.

He refuses to let rage overtake him. There had been time for rage, on the Narada where he could bang things and smash his fists into the walls and it was his ship, he could do whatever he liked. He remembers the Ambassador's amusement at his unabashed temper tantrum. He remembers Ayel, quietly reconnecting the cables he'd so viciously mangled.

If this is his last night, he does not want anger to be a part of it.

If this is his last night, he wants to wake Mandana up and hear her beautiful voice and feel her hands in his hair, and make love softly until dawn.

But she's been so tired lately.

He moves, pulls the blankets up over them both, nestles one hand in her curls and the other cupped under her stomach, to feel the baby move. A boy, they said.

He cannot fall asleep.