Natasha's glad to hear that he had a night free from nightmares. She's equally glad that he doesn't try to hide it the next night. It's going to be a long road and she's ready to navigate the bumps with him.

Montpellier feels worlds away from the ghosts in Eastern Europe. The safe house her contact found is a cozy little apartment in an older building, perfectly situation for budget conscious travelers. There's an envelope on the kitchen table with identification and money, and two suitcases with clothes and necessities for them both.

Her cheek rubs against his chest as she stirs awake and she yawns, finally leaning back enough so she can stretch as she makes note of the fact that he spoke in English. And that she evidently slept through him waking up that morning. It's a rare occurrence - she's usually up as soon as she hears other people moving around. "Hey. Were you watching me sleep?"