That, at least, he can respond to--just not until they're out of the way of fireballs and ice blasts and swords and whatever else is going on over there; he keeps tugging, which is a pretty apt metaphor for Lex as a person, not particularly forceful, just relentless.

Once they're as safe as they're getting in the middle of this mess, hidden behind--let's say whatever vehicle is moving supplies, shall we, Lex stays within touching distance, but doesn't actually, for the moment. "I know," he says, finally. There's blood all over his shirt, none of it his; he looks suddenly, sharply at her.

Something smashes, outside their periphery, a cry of pain or exertion follows, a wet, guttural sound. Lex is practiced at ignoring like, signs of life anyway, but right now he would be too focused to absorb much else otherwise. "Are you hurt?"

Physically speaking. He's probably not the audience she might want for the other thing. Or maybe, as future events would seem to support, he is exactly that.