Lucian was seconds from passing out, both due to his intoxication and because of the minor concussion he'd just given himself. In his pain, his blind, lost pain, he tried to latch on to something mentally.
But he couldn't. It was like trying to find purchase among wet stone, and slipping over and over again. Falling farther each time. He began to panic, and pushed against his mental barrier much harder than he should have. Much, much harder.
His efforts rebounded, of sorts. In his mind, it seemed as though they ricocheted, bouncing off of his invisible wall and hitting him right back in the mind. In reality, he could only truly recognise his own mind. So he had tried to force his way into whatever he could find, and had tried to infiltrate his own consciousness as if it were an alien one. That could send someone into their own subconscious, effectively rendering them comatose until they found their way out.
But he was drunk, so when the searing pain started, he immediately stopped. But his actions had other consequences. The self-infiltration created a sort of feedback loop, a static projection of his pain and confusion that rolled out in white noise waves in the immediate area. Anyone within sixty feet or so would feel the rolling headache he was going through, in waves, punctuated with sharp stabbing pain behind the eyes.
After a minute, it stopped. Lucian moved his hands from his face, more confused as to what happened than as to its effects. His eyes hurt, but not in the stabbing way they had before. Though he couldn't see it, the immense physical pressure as a side effect of his feedback loop had burst the smaller blood vessel in his eyes, and everything around his irises was more or less bloodshot to hell.
He started to tear up involuntarily as his body tried to cope with his pain, and latched onto Zira's arm with one hand, saying softly, "I'm sorry... I'm so, so, so sorry... I- I'm just - it's... I'm sorry, Zira..."