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Tom let his head drop back against the couch as his datapad pinged on his desk. He felt like he'd only been off duty for five minutes, rather than the hour it had taken him to shower, put on his sweats, and settle down on the couch. And now that he was comfortable, he didn't want to move.
But his rank demanded that he at least check the notification, lest it be something that actually did require his attention. He got up with a sigh and retrieved the datapad from his desk, tapping the Waypoint notification icon as he ambled back to the couch and plopped down again. If it was going to be more paperwork, he would at least be comfortable while he took care of it. But it wasn't paperwork. Just a vid message from his mother.
"Oh, thank god," he sighed to himself, and clicked on the message.
Audrey's face appeared on the screen, sitting on the couch in the house he'd grown up in. She was wearing a faded ODST shirt and sweatpants, a casual contrast to her hair which was tied back neatly, as always. It had gone salt-and-pepper over the years, and a few more lines had appeared on her face, but overall it was the same face he'd always known.
Rebuilding their relationship over the course of the war had been a harsh journey. When Audrey had made her first efforts to be there for him in the wake of Circinus, he'd been too angry and hurt to accept it. He'd lashed out at her, and then shut her out, afraid it was only going to be temporary, that it wasn't sincere.
But Circinus had been a wake-up call for her, and she was determined to make the best of the second chance that she'd been given. Even through several years of curt replies to her correspondence, she had persisted, and eventually they had started to really talk. While nothing would make up for parts of his childhood she'd missed, the relationship they'd built in the thirty years since Circinus was a healthy one. He couldn't ask for much more than that.
"Greetings, Captain," Audrey said, "I hope this message finds you well."
Tom smiled. Even her casual messages always started out sounding formal. It was the decades as an officer; he knew, because he'd caught himself doing it once or twice.
"I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion," she continued. "Infinity is in good hands. You're a damn sight better than Del Rio ever could have been. He wasn't suited to that sort of command."
Audrey paused again, and chewed her lip.
"I hate to sound cliché, but… I'm proud of you. And it's not just because you made captain of the biggest stick in the UNSC fleet." Audrey inhaled and glanced down at her hands. "I know I... I never did say it enough when you were younger. And I still don't say it near as much as I should. I'm proud of you, Thomas. Of the person you are, not just the things you've done, or the rank you've attained." She faltered a bit, and traced the edge of her scuffed wedding band as she continued.
"The more time passes, the more of your father I can see in you… Not just in your face. You have his kindness, too." She was looking past the camera, staring off into the middle distance somewhere behind the datapad. He couldn't tell for sure, but he suspected he was looking at the one and only photo that existed of all four of them, which always sat on the mantle, above the hearth.
"You and Cadmon both did..." She clasped her hands together, and Tom could imagine the dull ache in her chest. It was the same ache he felt whenever Cadmon came up.
No amount of time could dull that kind of pain.
Audrey shook herself, and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger before continuing.
"I'm on leave for the next week. Decided to take some time for myself. I know that you're probably busy with the refit, but..." She paused, almost apprehensively. "If you'd like to visit home, you're welcome to. Anyway, I'll let you go here. Love you."
Home.
The word had so many meanings for him now. The quarters he was sitting in as he watched the message were certainly home to him. But he also still considered Mars—where he'd been born—home, too. And then there was Earth: the birthplace of humanity, his species' home.
"Oh!" Audrey glanced back to the camera with a smile. "If you do decide to visit, your dad's berry trellis went nuts this year, and I've got a metric shit-ton of black- and raspberries in the freezer. You're welcome to them if you want, I can only eat so many and I'm not attempting jam again after what happened last time."
Tom snorted. He didn't get his culinary skill from his mother.
With Infinity in drydock, Mars was close enough at hand that he could be done without for a few days. He hadn't been on holiday to Mars in years, and now was as good a time as any. He pressed reply, then made sure he was at least somewhat presentable, and started recording.