They didn't arrive at the cabin until the following evening and by the time they got there they were both tired from the journey. The flight had been quiet, uneventful, but they'd still had a long drive to reach their destination and he'd had to stop to let her out of the truck several times when the confines of the cab had become too stifling to bear.
He had known the moment she set eyes on the cabin that he had brought her to the right place, it was written in the expression on her face when they pulled up outside. It wasn't often that he saw an expression of child-like wonder on the face of his partner, wasn't sure that he had ever seen it, and he found a sense of satisfaction that he had been able to offer it.
"It's yours?" she asked as he opened the way and let her inside. He watched her take in the rustic furniture, polished floors, colourful woven rugs and the state of the art security system that he had fitted a few years back with approval. He had never brought anyone out there, keeping the cabin as his own sanctuary, a place where he could drop off the grid entirely.
"It is," he confirmed, dropping the bags to the floor and switching on the standing lamp behind the armchair, silently thankful that he had been there only two weeks earlier and given the place its spring cleaning, "belonged to my grandfather. He used to bring me out here on the weekends when I was a kid."
It didn't take long to show her around, there were only five rooms, each of them strictly functional. She didn't say much but that was becoming the norm for them in recent days but he found her out on the porch after he had finished unpacking, staring out into the night and he could sense a calmness in her that had been lacking in recent days. It wouldn't last but it was a start.
"It's beautiful here," she exclaimed without turning. It was part of her gift that she always knew exactly where he was, even though he could creep up on almost anyone but her, she always knew. He stepped closer, careful not to crowd her. She turned to him, eyes bright in the dark. "You came here after New York didn't you?"
"This is my home more than anywhere else I've been," he replied honestly. "It's the only place that I can find myself no matter how lost I seem to get and it's the only place I've ever felt solitude and security all in one breath."
They stayed out there for a while longer, listening to the movement of the wind through the branches and the wildlife of the forest. He offered her the bed, intending to sleep in the armchair or on the floor, but she merely moved over to the furthest edge of the mattress and looked at him expectantly. Only after the lights were extinguished and velvet darkness enveloped them, did he consider he wonder whether being away from civilisation would allow her to face her deepest fears and how she would deal with them when they surfaced.
The night passed calmly, her body too exhausted to even allow the nightmares to surface, but Barton knew that the calm could not last.