It was easy enough to steer him, aimless and half-aware as he was. Erskine moved into the bedroom and took a seat on the side of the bed, hunched over with his head in his hands. At Anton's question he shook his head.

"Just... dancing. Happy. I can't...."

It probably didn't make much sense. Not much did anymore, from what Erskine had noticed. Particularly when it came to himself. He moved his hands from the sides of his head to slide over his face.

At least he was only shaking. At least he wasn't crying. This time.