Work Text:
Derek can sleep anywhere, anytime. Standing, sitting, lying down, he can sleep. It can be pitch black or the middle of the day, if he closes his eyes he's out.
Aaron is not so blessed. He struggles even under perfect circumstances to shut down, to turn off his mind and fall into sleep. Blah blah blah, something about being a control freak – he's heard it all before. It doesn't help, so it doesn't matter. Having a case in Alaska is rare, but when it happens it really throws him for a loop – especially this time of year. It's June in Fairbanks, and it isn't getting dark at night, he's a mess. The hotel rooms have blackout curtains and heaters, it feels dark and everyone sleeps when they're supposed to sleep except Aaron. He peeks out the window, the roads are deserted, the clock reads 2am and it looks just like lunch time. Blinking slowly, his eyes burn. Day two of no sleep, and his alarm is set to scream him awake in 3 hours.
“You didn't sleep again, did you?” Emily asks, matching his gait as they trudge down the stairs in heavy hiking boots and thick sweaters ready for another day. He grunts at her, a solid answer if she's ever heard one. “You're not driving today.” It's not a question of whether or not he can, she's simply not going to allow it. He doesn't have the energy to fight her.
“How are you guys sleeping?” he asks and it's a genuine question, almost childlike in quality. She rolls her eyes.
“Well I get into my bed and I close my eyes,” she starts and he thinks about walking away, not in the mood for her particular brand of biting wit, but then there's the coffee pot and it's the only thing anchoring him to that spot. The scent alone is enough to make his veins buzz with life.
“Did you know,” Spencer adds, sliding up behind Aaron almost noiselessly. It spooks him a little the way he does that, but his senses are dulled enough that he doesn't let it show. “Sleeping is the only thing you have to pretend to do before you can do it?”
“No it's not,” Emily snaps, rolling her eyes. “You're making that up.”
Spencer grins. “Maybe, maybe not. You're going to be thinking about it when you lay down tonight anyway.”
Aaron has no idea how they solve the case. He's really just barking orders at people as they pop into his head, they're doing all the real work and he's just dragging himself from site to site – person to person. The coffee and the ice cold sunlight are keeping him upright, but his knees ache and his back is sore from wearing brand new hiking boots day and night. He's sure there's a blister on his heel, he knows he should have broken them in when he bought them but it didn't seem that important at the time. Those things can't be ignored as easily with a hot cup of coffee. If anything it makes him more aware of all the interesting ways his body can shut down while his eyes burn for sleep.
The jet is warm, and they turn most of the lights off. It's 10pm and outside it is still daylight, Aaron is fumbling his way through paperwork in the back with a pen light – he's still buzzing from his last cup of coffee and his hands are shaking. It's making his already rough handwriting almost illegible but he can fix it later.
“This seat taken?” Derek asks, not waiting for an answer before sliding into the seat beside Aaron. It's stealthy and quick, the way he spreads his blanket out so that just a corner sits on Aaron's thigh at first, snaking the first tendrils of sleep into him. He spreads it with deft fingers until it's covering Aaron's lap as well as his own, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to share a blanket. Aaron doesn't argue, doesn't even really notice what's happening - his pen is moving slower over the paper, he's blinking a little slower. Derek slips his headphones on and Aaron can hear the soft rhythm, he doesn't recognize the song but the beat is languid and he feels his heart fall in line, slowing its frantic pace to a crawl. His eyelids feel weighted. Setting his pen down, he rubs at his eyes and leans back, lets his weight rest heavily against the cushioned seat and he thinks about what Spencer said about pretending to sleep. It's almost comical how quickly it happens, how fast he goes from thinking about sleeping to the moment his breathing slows and his muscles relax. His head lolls to the side, temple coming to rest against the gentle mound of Derek's shoulder. Adjusting until they're fit together like puzzle pieces Derek makes sure Aaron won't regret this when they wake, when his neck hurts from the angle, when he's cranky and sore. He slips down until they're both comfortable and Aaron's weight is entirely supported against him and the blanket is tucked neatly around them both before he's satisfied.
Derek just smiles triumphantly as Emily slips by, steals the paperwork from Aaron's table and dumps it into Spencer's lap. “Don't pretend to sleep just yet, smarty pants,” she mutters, winking. “Your turn.”
Derek can sleep anywhere, anytime, that much is a given. Aaron needs the right set of circumstances, and Derek knows exactly how to line 'em up and knock 'em down.
It's so easy he barely even has to try.