Han’s fallen asleep. Not in the most dignified of positions, but when you’re in a profession where you sleep when you can, no matter where the opportunity presents itself, you get into some weird ones.
In this case, the assassin is sitting up with limbs stretched out, his head tipped back and against the wall, his mouth wide open and a soft snore sounding out with each breath. Saiga doesn’t really want to wake him up, since Han could probably use the rest, but it won’t do him much good if he hurts himself by sleeping like this. At the same time, Saiga doesn’t want to trust the assassin’s reflexes; he’s met more than a few men in his time who react violently when woken by surprise, and he isn’t all that interested in finding out if Han is among that number.
"Han. Hansen. Han, wake the fuck up ‘fore a rat crawls in yer trap." He says, and nudges the assassin’s ankle gently with his booted foot, ready to jump backwards at a moment’s notice.