Alistair is in control of him, and won't let him go too far. He's the safest he's ever been. Cullen doesn't even bother thinking about it -- just spills with a ragged cry.

(He couldn't think about it if he wanted to. Every bit of sensory input except the one that matters is an ocean away from him.

He's floating. Everything is quiet.

Slowly the corners of his mouth turn up as his arms go limp, dead weight. Eyes closed.)