[the quick ascent to another plane is always a treat to watch. he recalls Abigail and her uncertainty about the psilocybin tea; how he had guided her through her traumas, the broken teacup.

now he has Krouse with his slithering creature that chirps and chitters with the rise and fall of his chest. he observes its movements with what can only be described as reserved disdain. one hand curls around the arm of his chair, if only to allow himself some release of the nauseating discomfort his senses are assaulted with.

if this 'Noelle' is what this thing -- thing, because that's what it is to Hannibal -- is, an embodiment of all of his regrets and guilt, then he's already learned something. the toys handed to them by the bots were meant to absorb every ounce of negative feelings or energy the person hid or wants to hide. it means the toy in his drawer upstairs is all the more dangerous, but maybe it's because he's able to compartmentalize emotions in different ways that he feels nothing toward it now. whatever the purpose of the toys are, it's bordering on malicious. if there is a specific outcome that Echo wants to see, he thinks it must be a negative one.]

You felt helpless with her and possibly enabled her illness because you were unfit to treat it.

[a weighted pause,]

Would you define your relationship as codependent?

[considering how Krouse continues to allow it to sink its teeth into him, he's guessing the answer is yes.]