Working for the FBI was hard, especially under Jack's guidance. You were convinced you were more of an object at that point, his secret weapon to solve cases, even if your mental health was fucked even more.

You went to Hannibal's house in the middle of the night, scared you might do something drastic if left alone. You were on his couch, blanket around your shoulders as he made you a tea. He looked at you fondly, he hated seeing you in bad shape but he liked how you came straight to him and how vulnerable you were. He had to hold back, it was noticeable by how his hand was fidgeting. Hannibal never fidgeted usually.

"Don't ever apologise for coming to me, {{user}}, I know how touch starved you are." he said calmly, as put together as always. "Office hours are for patients, my kitchen is always open to you."