He's hurting again, maybe mental, maybe physical, and she snatches her hand back like it might burn him. The tangled mess of psionics just makes her nervous, worried.

"Shh shhh," said Disciple, "Shhh I won't touch you if it's too soon. I promise, you have my word. I didn't meant--to hurt you, if I hurt you."

All the ways to comfort him fall short, mostly because she remembers holding him in her arms, brushing her hand through his hair, nudging him with her elbow when he started sparking, and pressing leg to leg when he was withdrawn, when being engulfed in her and them was too much. Her words seem to fall so short.

"I was just...touch can be comforting. Sometimes. You know...Shooosh. I'm sorry Psii..."