Work Text:
Insomnia
The guilt of it all was getting to him.
It’s been a couple of weeks now that he’s returned from Pakistan. It’s been a couple of weeks now that he and his team finally caught Ian Doyle. Couple of weeks since he’s had to come clean to his family about faking the death of their friend. Only a handful of people knew about the operation of Emily fleeing in France when everyone thought she had died on the operating table.
The team was coping as well as one would expect. For seven months, they’ve had to mourn the death of a friend. He’s listened to them, he’s been a shoulder to cry on. And the whole time, he knew the truth, but was unable to tell anyone.
God, did he want to. I didn’t feel right to comfort Spencer, hear him cry and worry about him relapsing. Or see the sadness in Derek, who tried to mask it the best he could. But Aaron could tell, all the late night boxing sessions were his way of dealing with the anger of not being able to help his friend. Penelope, who would eventually talk about her with joy in her voice, only to be stopped by grief moments later, realizing that she’d never hear Emily’s laugh again. David, who’s lost a lot of friends over the years, but this one hurt him possibly the hardest.
But most importantly, you. His best friend for several years now. You lost your close friend and felt lost by the grief. You had helped him with everything after Haley’s death, and here he is; lying to you about the death of their friend. He’s been comforting you, listening to you cry late at night of how you miss her and how you’re not sure how to move forward.
What about himself? Dealing with the grief of his team and at the end of the day he’ll go home to his son, with whom he’s still trying to figure out a way to deal with their own day to day life. He’s been a single father for less than two years now. And he feels like he’s failing. He and his son, still trying to adjust to their own lives, without the boy’s mother in it.
When he was offered the assignment in Pakistan, he thought it was a good idea. He’d get a chance to distance himself from everything momentarily. He’d get something else to work on, he’d get a distraction. And at first, it felt good. Work there was so different. It was intense, at times quick paced which helped keep his mind occupied. And at the end of the day, he’d be so tired that sleep came almost easily.
But what he didn’t realize was that for days at a time, he’d forget to eat. He’d be out in the sun all day and just barely drink enough water. He’d be active all day, running a task force is not an easy job to do, not to mention when you’re dehydrated and malnourished. He hadn’t realized how much weight he’d lost before he got back home.
Now that he’s home, he’s tried to get back to the habit of eating enough. Dinner is the easiest. At that point he usually is hungry and he has to cook for his son anyway, so he might as well eat aswell. But he finds himself skipping breakfast more and more often, just drinking a cup of coffee or two on his way to work. Lunch slides into later and later into the day, until it feels pointless to eat as dinner is already in a few hours. And now that he’s back in the field with his team, even dinner doesn’t seem that important.
It’s Friday night. Actually, more like Saturday morning, but time doesn’t seem to make much sense at this point. Aaron’s working in his home office. Papers and files are filling most of the surface, a laptop in the middle of it all.
Ever since the passing of Erin Strauss, the section chief, the bureau has been handing Unit Chief Hotchner more and more paperwork to stay on top of, until a new section chief is being selected. They even offered him the position, but he doesn’t feel like he’s ready or willing for that title. It has its perks, but Aaron enjoys his current job.
Aaron picks up his phone as he realizes one case report hasn’t made it to his hands. The team had returned from a case previously that day, and he was eager to get it finished as soon as possible. He stops for a moment, thinking if he should ask you about the file and disturb your evening, or wait until the morning. But he types it anyway, not expecting an answer any time soon:
Hotchner: Hey (y/n). Just noticed I haven’t yet received your case report. Please, get it for me asap. 1:55AM
He turns back to his computer, but is soon interrupted by a silent ‘bing’ from his phone.
You: Geez, Hotch. Why are you working at this hour? On a Saturday? Can’t it wait until Monday? 2:02AM
He tries to come up with a good excuse, but everything falls flat. Even if he himself is convinced that he has to work. Has to keep himself busy. But he knows you’re not going to be convinced, no matter what the excuse was.
Hotchner: Couldn’t sleep. I want to finish this case as soon as possible. Could you bring it over when you can? What’s your excuse for being up at this hour? 2:03AM
A million things in his agenda, he gets out of his chair. His legs feel tingly as he’s been sitting for hours on end. It feels refreshing to stretch them a little bit. He walks to the kitchen and prepares himself another cup of coffee and then returns to his office. He picks up his phone as he realizes the screen is on, notifying him of a new message.
You: Sure thing, boss ;) I fell asleep on the couch. You know, like humans tend to do. I am more and more convinced you’re a robot hybrid or somethn. I’ll bring it over first thing in the morning. You better sleep before it. Or else… 2:07AM
He finds himself chuckling at your text. It felt good, lighthearted. Not exactly a feeling he gets that often.
Hotchner: Or else what? 2:07AM
You: Don’t make me threaten you. Sleep. Now! I’ll see ya in the morning 2:08AM
He texts you one last time, wishing you goodnight before turning his phone screen down and turning his focus back to the files in front of him.
~~~~
The beams of sun disturb your comfortable slumber. You shift to your back, groan filling the quiet room. Coming home to your own bed after a case is always great. It’s so much more comfortable than any motel or hotel bed you find yourself sleeping on whenever you’re away.
You go to pick up your phone, checking if Aaron had continued to text you. To your relief, there were no missed messages from him, maybe he’d taken your advice and went to bed. He, if someone needs a good night of sleep.
It’s been a hard year for everyone. The whole team has gone through a lot of changes and dealt with loss. JJ leaving for the Pentagon, Emily’s death on top of the horrifying things you see at work every day. It also hasn’t been that long since Aaron lost his ex wife, since Jack lost his mother. They’re coping, day by day. And you’re glad that he lets you and Jess help them out.
For a moment, you were upset with Aaron. But at the same time, you understand why he did it. It was for Emily’s protection. And you know that it was eating him up, not being able to tell anyone, having to lie and help people grief over the death of a friend, grief over his lie. So, you forgave him almost immediately, seeing your friend safe and healthy was the most important thing.
You’ve also missed your best friend, since he was gone. It was great to have him back, physically. Sure you’ve facetimed with him many times while he was away, but nothing beats the real thing. Altho, the condition he came back in, wasn’t the optimal. He’s clearly lost a significant amount of weight, he looked beyond exhausted and his eyes felt burdened. More than usually, that is.
You hop inside your shower, letting the warm water work as a wakeup call for you. Steam filled the bathroom quickly, making it extra warm and cozy. When you’re done, you hop into your clothes and decide to check up on your friend and bring him the file he was missing and hopefully convince him to grab some breakfast downtown.
The two of you live rather close to each other, only a 10 minute ride away, 5 minutes without traffic. You’ve been to his place probably a million times before. So much it has turned into a second home almost. You love helping with Jack and movie nights with Aaron are the coziest way to spend a Sunday evening.
You gently knock on his apartment’s door. Quiet enough to be heard, if he’s awake, but not loud enough to wake him if he’s dozed off. You’ve got a key after all. After a second knock, you let yourself in and you’re met with total silence. All the lights are off, sunlight more than enough to light your way.
You leave your shoes by the door and tiptoe around his apartment. “Aaron?” you call for him silently. The kitchen is empty altho the coffee pot is half full. You check the living room, also empty. Finding your way to Jack’s room, only to find it deserted as well. A bad feeling starts to grow within you, you’re not yet sure what’s causing it. You push open the ajared door leading to Aaron’s bedroom. The sheets were messy, implying that someone has at some point been underneath them.
But knowing Aaron, you find it strange that he hasn’t made the bed yet, if he’s gotten up. He loves his surroundings to be neat and organized and leaving the bed a mess was out of character for him.
“Aaron?” you call for him again, slightly louder this time. The bathroom door is open and the lights are off, so he’s most unlikely there. You turn around and try to think of different scenarios in your head. Maybe he’d gone out for a run, or taken Jack to the park. Or maybe Jack is still at Jessica’s, as it was rather late the team had returned home.
You see Aaron’s running shoes by the door and your heart sinks. So that option’s out of the window. “Aaron?” a hint of panic raises in your voice as you call out for your friend. You hurry to check the last room, his home office. As you get closer to the door, you notice a faint beam of light shining inside the room, most likely his desk lamp.
You slowly push the door open and gently call out for him again. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you spot him. He’s laying on the floor, a few papers down with him. He’s on his back, eyes tightly closed.
“Aaron!” you shout as you rush beside him. Your eyes immediately go to search for signs of blood or other kinds of injury. But you don’t seem to find any. You gently nudge him from his shoulders, but that doesn’t change anything. You drag his chair closer to him and prop up his legs. Instinctively, the back of your hand finds his forehead to check his temperature. He’s slightly warmer than usual, maybe running a small fever. Your observation gets clearer as you see small drops of sweat glistening on his temples. “God damn it with you” you mutter and raise to your feet.
You retrieve a small towel and wet it with cold water. With a brisk pace you return to him and press the towel over his forehead and neck. It seems to be working as you see a little twitch on his lips.
“Cold” he stutters, eyes still firmly closed.
“I know. Can you open your eyes for me?” you try to stay as calm as you can, trying to think if you should call for an ambulance or not. Slowly, the man’s able to open his eyes, his pupils at first unable to focus on one spot. Once the man’s focus seems to be on you, you offer him a gentle smile “There you are. Got me worried for a sec there”.
“What are” he clears his throat. His voice is raspy and even deeper than what you’re used to “what are you doing here?” he asks again, once he’s able to form a full sentence.
“I could ask you the same thing, mister. Why on earth are you on the floor?”
The confusion on his face was almost comical. For a man with few facial expressions, he sure as hell looked confused by your sentence, as if you were speaking tongues. If the situation wasn’t as serious as this one, you would have laughed. He raises to his forearms, leaning back and even that seems to be rough for his balance. “That’s a good question” he said, more to himself than to you.
“What happened?” you ask him. He shakes his head. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
It takes a moment for him to answer. He tries to prop himself up for a better position. He lowers his legs from the chair and crosses them underneath him as he sits up. His balance still seems untrustworthy, so you keep your eyes on him the whole time, just in case he needs help. “I just wanted to finish a few things before Jack would get home,” he explains, not exactly answering your question. “I think it was almost 8 when I got up from my desk”.
You check your phone, it’s only 8.30, so at least he hasn’t been like this the whole night. He looks alright, for a man who collapsed onto the floor moments prior. His gaze seems hazy at times, if he moves his head too fast and it’s causing issues with his balance. “How are you feeling?” you ask him and of course he claims to be fine at first. You shoot him a look, trying to mimic his stern look and possibly failing miserably. “If you’re fine, then I guess you’ll have no problem getting up, huh?” you go to challenge him and his claim.
With a moment of consideration, he raises to his knees. A look on his face is focused as he tries to keep his balance. Aaron reaches out to grab your hand you were holding out to him. His palm is sweaty and clammy, but you don’t mind. It’s clear that his head is having issues as he stands up properly. He’s tall and heavy and you’re praying he doesn’t collapse again. Maybe challenging him was a bit too soon.
Aaron slightly reels back, and your reflexes go to grab him by his arms to steady him. “Still with me?” you ask, looking in his eyes, trying to find his focus. It takes a moment, but he ends up nodding as an answer. “Alright. Let’s get you to the couch”.
With slow and steady steps, you help him to lay down on his big couch in the living room. He grunts as he lowers himself to the cushions and curses his back that’s going to be in pain for days after this. A part of him is embarrassed that you’d found him in such a weak moment, but at the same time, he is grateful. He trusts his life in your hands any day of the week and even if he’s not ready to admit it to himself, it feels nice to have someone looking after him. He prefers having you around rather than anyone else.
“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” you question, already preparing for the worst possible answer. It takes a moment for him to think back to it, which in itself is a bad sign “If you have to think about it so hard, it’s been way, way too long” you leap to the kitchen and find something for him to eat. You hear him shuffling on the couch, trying to get up. “Don’t you dare get up” you raise your voice at him, but not in a mean way. But you can’t help but get frustrated at the man. He’s a smart man, but at times, he’s a dumbass. “Aaron. Please lay down” you soften your tone and for your luck it works. With a sigh, he lays his head back down.
“You don’t have to do this (y/n)” he tries to protest, but not giving it his full attempt. He knows it’s a losing battle if he tries to argue with you about this. But at least he can say he tried.
“Tough. I’m going to do it anyway, and you’re just gonna have to deal with it” you tell him and prepare a bowl of oatmeal and cut up some fruit. It’s quick and easy, something that would be easy for him to get down. You fill up a tall glass of water and bring them over to him. “Eat. And don’t you dare argue with me”.
Instead of protesting, he takes the warm bowl in his hands. “Thank you” he offers you a tired smile and you can’t stay frustrated with him. He looks weak, like he’s gone through way too much and doesn’t know what to do.
“How long has it been going on?” you ask him once he’s almost done with his food. He looks at you, puzzled. “How long have you had issues with sleep?”.
Once you specify your question, he turns to look down in his bowl. “Ever since I got back” it takes a lot out of him to admit that. To say it out loud that he is, in fact, struggling. “Honestly, after Emily’s…” he cuts at the middle of his sentence. He’s struggled ever since his decision, hearing his friends’ voices in his head, talking about the loss of their friend. “The assignment helped momentarily, I was thoroughly exhausted in Pakistan and it was easier to fall asleep after a day in heat. But once I got back”.
You sigh, your heart breaks for the man next to you. He feels like he needs to carry the whole world on his shoulders, all alone. And it’s a heavy burden to carry.
“But once I got back, it’s only gotten worse” he continues to explain, wording things out to make sense. Both to you and to himself. “I feel like I’ve failed” you can hear his voice break and you try your best to stay strong for him, comfort him for a change. You want to interrupt him right away, tell him that he’s not failed anyone, but you stay quiet and listen to him explain. “The team, the whole bureau. Jack and Jess. You.” he sighs, letting his walls crumble down. “I had to make the decision to keep Emily safe. But being there for everyone, trying to offer comfort when feeling guilty over the decision. And ever since I got back home, I feel like a failure as a father. In a way, I’ve always felt that way, but I was gone for months, when I have already missed so much of his childhood”.
Tears start to fall down his cheeks and they make him stop speaking. He tries to shake his head, make them go away, but it doesn’t work. They keep flooding his eyes and he curses his body, how it feels like failing him in every way. You take the empty bowl from his hand and place it on the living room table. You slide closer to him and wrap your hands around him. He doesn’t protest your effort of pulling him close.
“I’m so sorry I’ve let you all down” he sniffles to the crook of your neck. “I’ve failed the whole team as a leader and as a friend. I’ve failed Jack as a father. I’m so tired. I’m just so tired, (y/n)” Aaron sighs and rests his forehead on your shoulder. Tears fall down on your shirt as the man silently sobs.
You calmly run your fingers through the man’s back and hair as you hold him. You’re glad he’s able to let these emotions out and be vulnerable around you. But it never fails to shatter your heart in pieces, watching the strongest man you know, letting his wall down and fall down. “You haven’t let anyone down, Aaron” you try to use the best words to help him actually understand how much people appreciate him and how much people look up to him. “What comes to Emily: You did what you had to do. You did what any good team leader would do, to protect one of their own. And it worked! She’s alive, Aaron. And we managed to hunt down the man after her. The team is strong, because it has such a good man leading our way”.
“I’m everything but that” he protests and pulls away from your embrace. His big hands go to wipe away the tears on his cheeks, even if new ones keep joining them moments later.
“Aaron Hotchner, you are a good man” you punctuate every word, hoping that maybe you’ll get through to him. “You are an amazing boss and an amazing friend. I can only imagine how hard it must have been to listen to everyone mourn over the death of their friend. Me included. But the fact that everyone feels comfortable coming to you for comfort, is a sign that you’ve done everything right. Everyone is able to talk to you, without fear of being judged or dismissed. The way you value everyone as an individual, it never fails to amaze me”. You continue, expecting more objections from him.
He looks deep in your eyes with a pleading look. He wants to believe you, he really does. But he’s tired, he’s sick and his head feels like it’s filled with concrete. So at the moment, anything positive was hard to find, and even harder to comprehend.
“And what comes to Jack” you change the subject and it breaks your heart even more. You know how much the man loves and admires his son. How much he wants to provide a safe and loving environment for him, the one he never had as a child. And knowing how highly of his son speaks of his super hero. “You are his world. You are his hero. That isn’t going to change. It’s clear, to everyone, that you shower him with love and give him the tools and the environment to grow and enjoy his childhood. Explore the world and truly be his own person. You make him feel safe and valued. Everyone who’s ever crossed paths with that boy sees it”.
Aaron scoffs at you. He wants to believe it, but he’s blinded by his own fear of turning into his own father.
“You are a good father, Aaron. You are a good man, and even if I need to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, so be it”.
He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t fully believe you, but he’s way too exhausted to argue with you. So, he falls quiet, trying to let the words sink in.
You hand him the glass of water and stare at him until he’s finished every last drop of it. “Please lay down. You need to get some sleep” your tone falls softer and more quiet. You turn the tv on and on at a low volume. Not too loud and distracting, but enough to play in the background.
You pat your thigh with your hand. The man’s hesitant, but after a moment, he lays his head down on your lap. You help spread a blanket over him and go to run your fingers through his hair. The motion is soothing and in no time Aaron feels comfortable enough to close his eyes.
Few minutes go by in silence, only the tv running in the background. “(Y/N)?” Aaron whispers, gaining your full attention once again. You hum as a sign of your attention. “Can you stay with me?”
“I’m not going anywhere” you assure him. Within minutes, the man’s far gone in dreamland. You continue to play with his soft hair. Your heart feels like it is bursting. It’s filled with so much love towards the man on your lap and it aches with the burden of his. It’s filled with joy as the man feels comfortable being vulnerable around you and wanting you to stay by his side. “I wish I could somehow make you understand how worthy of love you really are” you whisper, looking down at the sleeping man. You lean to kiss his forehead “But I sure as hell am going to try my hardest”.