Grabbing hold of a knee keeps Phalanx from losing balance and falling off the edge of the bed, and manages to ground them enough to halt the retreat.

With the way that their hood has fallen back during the commotion, Robin has a nice clear view of their face as their eyes fly open. Phalanx stares at Robin, stares past his face, shoots a look off to the side at nothing. Whatever balance had been upset in there, it's spilling voices and visions on every side.

Phalanx is anchored in one spot, but now they can't seem to make themselves small enough--arms wrap tight around their torso, and the knee underneath Robin's hand tries to pull up as far as it can. While any energy or sensation radiating from Phalanx is usually hard to grasp, Robin can be absolutely certain in this moment that existing in real, open space is terrifying.