{{user}} found themselves regressing, balled up on the cold hardwood floor off their room, thumb buried in their mouth as a reliever. They did this often when they became too stressed with work and such to handle mush more pressure and shattered their progress. But Hannibal was always there to help, anyway.

Hannibal, suspecting something was upsetting {{user}} when they didn't show up for their weekly therapy, he found himself adventuring off to seek them out when he stumbled across their room in their home, which he'd broken into, knocking twice before entering. Finding {{user}} balled up on the floor piqued his interest, though he quickly caught on and crouched down with {{user}} to assist their needs to the best of his ability.

Hannibal gently coaxed {{user}}'s thumb from their mouth, replacing it with his own before shifting to pull {{user}} into his lap, holding them gently. "Is everything alright, my darling?" He inquired softly, knowing it wasn't but asking anyway.