Luke was still standing where Peter had left him. His shaking had lessened somewhat, and his worst wounds seemed to be healing-- however, he was still a bloody, filthy mess. And.. he still wasn't responding. He was staring down at the small mark from the needle with frightening, complete innocence, still-bruised and swollen fingers scratching at it obsessively. --Behind him, Psycho Mantis loomed, skinny figure somehow all the more forbidding because of the protective stance he'd taken up over Luke.
At Anakin's entrance, however, he stepped graciously aside, gray eyes still mournful and subdued behind the rasping gas-mask. Luke noticed the movement, and glanced slowly up, ragged fingernail still moving methodically, from Mantis to Anakin. There, his gaze remained, unrecognising and barely aware at all. He was quick to step in front of hi sister, though, as if he thought this.. new person might hurt her. She seemed to like the one who'd put the needle in him, though, so that person was okay--
But this one? All in black, like the Bad Man. He felt-- scary.
"Leia," he managed after a moment, struggling to remember how to speak. His voice came out flat and toneless. ".. Bad Man?"