Of course there are official protocols, but Samandriel is desperate and if he goes through official channels, his mother will know and it'll only make him need therapy he won't be allowed to get all the more necessary.
"Yes, Dr. Lecter, sir," he says, quickly, following him into the library. The neatly folded stack of twenties burns in his pocket like perhaps he should offer that first. He doesn't know how this works. He just knows that things are getting harder and harder to deal with.
He sits in the chair, fiddling absently with the cuff of his shirt as though that might make this easier. "And I would have done all that, but there are complications and I can't have my mother finding out. I'm sorry...to- to just barge in like this, but I couldn't think of anyone else who would even begin to take me seriously. Please, forgive me." If nothing else, Samandriel always strove to be Good and Kind and Fair. He hopes that Dr. Lecter will see that, will understand that this is nothing to do with Abigail. The way he sees it, both their relationships with Abigail need not enter this room.