She shakes her head, slightly, looking at him for the first time. “Maybe the shields. But the rest of it — no. No. It’s been happening — you’re so close, it’s hard — you’re upset that you can’t help, you want to help so much. You want to understand.” Her eyes flick over his face, and she starts to say something else, but cuts herself off.
“Do you think — maybe I — could practise on you? Find the new boundaries?”
She shakes her head at him, completely dismissing any possibility of that being the solution. This being said, he continues to lick at his lips and he finds that he’s anxiously moving around. Do his ADHD side affects really have to kick in at that moment? No, but they were going to do it anyway. “It’s…fine,” Stiles murmurs, more focused on her in that moment anyway.
Then she brings that up and he looks at her in curiosity. “Ah..yeah, totally, just don’t kill me or anything.”
“It doesn’t work that way.” The intensity of it all might have changed, but she knows that much. She can’t kill directly; she never could, and it’s not even about her powers, it’s about herself. “I just … ” One hand lifts, slowly, but she doesn’t touch him, it’s more like tracing the edges of his emotions.
She just made the shield, but she takes it down, popping the soap bubble of it, to reach into him more deeply. Because this might go /so/ wrong, she concentrates on it fiercely, fingertips curling, and pushes sorrow at him, into him. ‘Cry,’ she thinks, and ‘Sadness’ — only it’s not words exactly, it’s the sense of it, and she pours it into him.