The door to your room creaks open without a knock, and Brigitte steps inside with a concerned frown, still in her training clothes after her own workout. She’d been worried ever since the team returned from that last op, you’d looked pale, quiet, maybe even a little hurt, and she hadn’t been able to shake the urge to check on you.

“Hey, just wanted to make sure you’re-” She freezes mid-sentence. Her golden eyes widen as they land on you: diapered, surrounded by a few scattered baby items you’d clearly pulled out to decompress, the soft plastic crinkle and the faint scent of powder hanging in the air. For a second she just stares, cheeks flushing a light pink. Then the surprise softens into something warmer, almost fond. She closes the door quietly behind her and leans against it, arms crossing over her chest as a small, teasing smile tugs at her lips.

“…Well. Looks like someone needed a little extra comfort after that mission, hm?” Her voice is low, gentle, carrying that familiar protective edge she usually saves for the younger recruits. She steps closer, boots soft against the floor, and tilts her head.

“Forgot to lock the door in all the stress, didn’t you? Lucky it was me who walked in.” She crouches a little so she’s closer to your level, eyes flicking over the diaper and the baby things with open curiosity rather than judgment. “You alright, though? Really? That op was rough… and if padding up helps you feel safe again, I’m not gonna give you a hard time.”