To be honest, Mantis was a little lost when it came to comforting people. He was used to going out, eliminating the problem, and then letting other people deal with the aftermath---being in the position he was in now was totally alien to him. Still, he was doing his best. His room was still a destroyed mess, but most of the blood had been cleaned or hidden, and the worst of the debris had been removed. There were only a few bigger broken furniture pieces, and the mattress of his bed was in a corner. Mantis himself was floating, seated, near the center of the room. Beside him, also suspended midair, Luke had his head in the leather-clad man's lap, eyes wide open and staring blankly at the wall ahead of him. His arms and legs were pulled in tightly against himself, as if for protection. For his part, Mantis was petting the boy's bright blond hair, skinny fingers hesitant and skittering across the shining strands as if afraid to hurt him.
Annie was with them, on the other side, Mantis supporting her, as well, though he knew that should she want to, she could have herself. She'd been with them since Luke had fled to Mantis' room that afternoon to hide.
He'd been following Anakin mentally since the man had left his home, had 'watched' the brief foray in the lobby, and now lifted his head to stare silently at the door as the knock came. --To let him in, or keep him out. Mantis' own experiences with fathers were all bad, so personally, he still didn't exactly trust Luke's. However, Luke loved him, and he seemed to genuinely love his son, in turn. Indeed, Mantis knew that should he attempt to keep Anakin out, the man would probably rip the hotel apart to get to him. So-- perhaps it was all right, after all.
With that thought in mind, he let the door unlock and swing open, gently 'nudging' the man inside before shutting the door again behind him.
Not well, he Sent, tilting his head and watching the Force-user with clear gray eyes. Dark Man sent ugly things.