DISCLAIMER: Do not own "Criminal Minds" or its characters. Just like to have some imaginative fun with them.

A/N: This came to me while in a hazy frame of mind at work this past weekend-it was inspired by my inability to get to sleep the night before (Morgan's rant at the beginning of his section was exactly what I muttered a time or two to myself that night). That workday wasn't much fun, but at least some story inspiration came out of it, so…yay?

"A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow." - Charlotte Brontë

1:35 am

Woof! Woof!

"Mudgie!"

WOOF!

"Mudgie!" Dave Rossi's voice was harsher this time. He would've gone in search of his dog and walked him back to the bedroom, but he was just starting to get so comfortable…

Grrrrrrrr…

Rossi sat up a little upon hearing the growling. "Mudgie?" he repeated, uncertain. More growling, and then a sharp bark. Rossi was on his feet in a flash, grabbing his gun from the false drawer next to his bed.

He slowly crept down the darkened hallway, back against the wall, moving in and out of the shadows. Down the staircase, one step, two, back to one, two again. Reaching the bottom he peered cautiously into the kitchen doorway. Mudgie was standing by the back door, his head poking out the little doggie door flap every so often, the occasional bark echoing both inside and out.

Rossi continued to ever so slowly creep up behind his faithful companion. Just a few more steps…

Suddenly Mudgie bolted forward through the doggie door.

"Damnit!" Rossi muttered as he took off. He swiftly pried the locks apart and, yanking the door open, dashed out onto his back porch. He stood for a moment, trying to adjust his eyes in the late night blackness. He managed to see an animal's shadow near a massive tree, and headed towards it, preparing in case he scared the dog away yet again.

But Mudgie did not move. He just stood there, intensely focused on something that Rossi could not see, thanks to the tree obscuring his view. Finally catching up to him, Rossi grabbed his collar and gently pulled him back. "What is it, boy? What do you see?"

Just then, a raccoon darted out of the shrubbery and took off to parts unknown. Mudgie barked loudly once again, and Rossi merely rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Easy, boy, easy, easy. Do you know what time it is?" he softly chided as he helped maneuver the dog back towards the house. Once inside, once the house was properly secured, once they were both back upstairs, the raccoon was soon forgotten. Mudgie decided curling up at the end of his master's bed was a much better plan.

Rossi settled himself back in, rubbing his eyes. He glanced over at Mudgie, who had sprawled out and fallen asleep very quickly.

At that moment, Rossi truly wished he were a dog.

2:06 am

Aaron Hotchner's eyes were definitely open. He lay flat on his back, hands resting on his stomach, so as not to mess his work suit up much further. It had only been four hours since he'd returned home from the office, and he was so drained that he didn't even bother with the usual "getting ready for bed" routine.

So drained. So tired. And yet…he could not for the life of him close his eyes.

Briefing at 10 am. Budget meeting at 2. Still have to sign off on that case file from a couple weeks ago. Jack's soccer practice is at 4. Unless we have a case. Have to be on the jet within the hour then…

Hotch ran a hand over his face and sighed. Well, this explains why I'm seeing more gray hairs when I look in the mirror each morning…

His eyes suddenly widened even further. Beth! I have to make reservations for our dinner date this weekend! What day is it? Monday…yes, it's Monday. The date is…next Saturday. I think? Or is it Friday? Shit…

The proverbial lightbulb suddenly came on over his head. Briefing. Budget. Case. Soccer. Date. Briefing. Budget. Case. Soccer. Date. Briefing… He closed his eyes, hoping the simple repetition would do its trick.

2:45 am

Alex Blake was confused. Her normal setup – dark room save for a little moonlight streaming in through the window and some classical music softly playing – didn't seem to be doing the trick tonight. Usually she was out like a light by now.

A sudden twitch caused the bed to ever so slightly shake, and Blake glanced over at her husband, James. He was on his stomach, face turned towards her, mouth comically opened a smidge, dead to the world.

And that's when it hit her. He's here. Blake loved her husband dearly, God knows she did. But now that she thought about it a bit more, she did always have a bit more difficulty sleeping when he was home. When your spouse is gone for extended periods of time, there are certain routines you get used to. Generally she was able to adjust her pattern after a few days of him being home, but those first couple days were always particularly tough. And all she could suddenly think about was the stack of case files she still had yet to completely get through at work.

She had a feeling that, between herself and Reid, the two of them would quickly empty out that coffee pot tomorrow.

3:10 am

Spencer Reid had been roughly tossing and turning about for the last ten minutes or so. Unintelligible murmurs escaped his lips, while his long, gangly legs tangled themselves in his bedsheets. His eyes were squeezed almost impossibly tightly shut, as though he were trying to will whatever disturbing visions were haunting his brain out of existence.

Suddenly he bolted upright, gasping and flailing about. His hands flew out to catch his bedside table before he took himself and his sheets down onto the floor. Luckily, he succeeded.

Reid took a moment to straighten himself up and out, pulling his knees up to his chest. He rubbed his eyes a couple times before wrapping his arms around his knees, and sat quietly, swallowing occasionally as he worked to regain his normal breathing.

After a few minutes, he lay back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't know why this particular nightmare freaked him out so much. Sure, this last case wasn't a pleasant one - they never are, after all - but he'd certainly seen worse. Still, the fragmented screams and creepy unsub face (the guy's smile was almost Freddy Kreuger-ish, Garcia had noted), the kitchen splayed with blood…it had all congealed into something nasty and brutal.

Then he remembered the date. Sunday had been the sixteenth of June. Five months since... Maybe that's why it's getting to me so much?

Reid stared at the clock. 3:25. 3:26. 3:27. 3:28. He let out a quiet groan, his fluttering eyes slowing and shutting, and started rattling off math equations in his head. Going through the entirety of Pi usually seemed to do the trick…

4:30 am

Derek Morgan punched his pillow. "Damnit, let me get some sleep already!" he ranted to nobody in particular.

Why had he agreed to let Garcia talk him into going out that evening? Sure, he wanted a drink (or two, or five) after their latest case, but for goodness' sake, how old was he now? He should've known when to call it a night. But when Garcia started in with her pleading and promises of a night on the town, well, how could he resist? Plus, there was that incredibly attractive girl…no, woman…that he'd met at the bar and danced with.

Definitely would have to call her another day, though. Morgan wasn't exactly a vain man, really, but he also knew that the zombie look wasn't very appealing to women.

He shifted a couple more times. Left side? Right side? No, no, left. No, well…no, right. Yeah. Right side. The numbers on the digital clock taunted him as they quietly ticked by. Slow down, time! He briefly considered asking Reid tomorrow if the idea of being able to turn back time was a completely implausible concept.

He also made a mental note to try and be the first one at the coffee machine. Maybe bringing a couple extra cups from the coffee shop nearby to secretly stow away wouldn't hurt, either.

5:20 am

The intense throbbing pain in her head was what woke Penelope Garcia from her fitful slumber.

Damn you, Green Fairy! She was as fun-loving a girl as they come, but it appeared she was going to have to talk to Morgan about putting some rules on their nights out together. If he hadn't been yakking that girl's ear off or dancing with her all evening, I might have been home sooner.

She made a noise of exasperation as she slipped her face mask off. Time to go in search of some aspirin.

Her arms were stretched out in front of her as she felt her way through the darkness. She'd kept her apartment pitch black that night. Not a sliver of moonlight was coming in anywhere, and she'd even gone so far as to completely unplug her babies for the night. Her mask had been doing its job as well, until the headache came, at which time the mask began to feel uncomfortable around her head.

Garcia backed up slightly as she sensed she was about to run into the nearest wall. She continued stumbling through the apartment, refusing to cave and flip on any lights lest they make her headache worse. If absolutely necessary I'll grab the flashlight from the kitchen. Besides, this is my place, I know it like the back of my –

THUMP!

"OWWWWWW!" Garcia cried out, grabbing onto the nearest…shelf?...with one hand as her other one quickly grabbed her foot and brought it up, gently rubbing the big toe. "Aaaah…fu - fudge nuggets!" Her mind took over silently uttering various curses as she hobbled along a little further. She was almost there.

BANG!

"Ergh!" Now grabbing her knee, and not being so quiet with her cussing anymore.

Soon she found her way into the bathroom. Fumbling around she managed to find the medicine cabinet, and went to pry it open.

A barrage of various bottles and little boxes spilled forward, attacking Garcia on their way to the floor. Garcia tried to protect herself as much as possible, before finally gritting her teeth and flipping on the bathroom light.

She immediately squinted, shielding her eyes as she looked for the aspirin. It sat perfectly still in the cabinet. Garcia quickly grabbed it, carefully stepping over the messy floor. She didn't bother to shut off the light, letting it guide her first towards the kitchen for some water, and then back to bed.

Two and a half hours before I have to get up. She hoped the medicine would work its magic by then.

6:00 am

The shifting in her bed woke Jennifer Jareau-LaMontagne. She so desperately wanted to shut her eyes again right then and there. Instead, she rolled over to see her husband getting dressed.

"Morning, sunshine," he said softly in that lazy drawl of his as he caught her eye, a smirk on his face. "Sleep well?"

JJ snorted. "Three hours, oh, yeah, I'm so refreshed."

"You really should talk to Hotch about making sure you can come home a little bit earlier on nights you're just working at the office," Will suggested, kneeling on the bed as he rubbed his wife's arm.

"It's not that he won't let me leave," JJ replied. Indeed, he was often the one insisting people go home if it got to be ten, eleven at night and any of the team members were still there. "It's just that I have to figure out what cases to take next and see if there's any reports left to finish up, and then - "

"Maybe you should take some vacation time, then," Will replied, gently interrupting her mini-rant. "You need a break."

JJ sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I'll try and bring it up to Hotch as soon as possible." She smiled at him as if to say, "I promise."

"Good," Will said, considering the matter solved for now. He finished bustling about the room before coming over to where JJ lay. "I love you," he murmured, leaning down to give her a kiss goodbye.

JJ wrapped an arm around Will's neck to pull him closer. "I love you, too," she said after they parted, her hand running along his arm before they separated. "Have a good day at work. Stay safe."

"Yeah, you, too." And off he went to give his son a goodbye kiss.

JJ rolled back onto her side, all curled up, her arms underneath her pillow. Just a few more minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, she heard a small voice. "Mommy?"

"I'm not asleep…but that doesn't mean I'm awake." - Author Unknown

Reviews/critiques are, of course, appreciated!