ooOoo

Horatio walks slowly, head down, facing forward. Three rooms at the end of a long hallway beckon, but he finds his feet dragging, energy waning.

Three rooms, three people.

Three decisions he's not sure he can make.

He tries to stop moving, only to find his feet shuffling still and his body swaying. Still closer to the end.

Three rooms, three people.

Calleigh sobs and wraps trembling arms around his neck, pressing her wet face into his. And he holds her, patting her back, offering her the little comfort he can.

Walter stares unbelieving at him before charging him and wrapping his thick arms around him tightly.

Ryan doesn't react. He barely even turns his attention from the wall where three words have been scribbled in thick black charcoal.

Am I Real

He can't make the decision yet, and asks for another week.

One more, he's told. Just one more. But, he knows there will always be one more and it will never be enough.

ooOoo

Later

Calleigh's room is bare, wallpaper stripped from the concrete, pads taped in its place. Amongst the blue mats, the words "It Is Time" play peek-a-boo. Calleigh doesn't move from her cot, and Horatio thinks the decision will be easier this time.

Walter's hands are covered; blue and green and red and yellow. His room is a mural. Loud, loud colors and images Horatio doesn't want to think about staring them all in the face. Walter says, "Boss," and Horatio thinks the decision is a little harder to make but maybe still clear enough.

Ryan isn't in his room. His empty mat and overturned flimsy bucket a stark reminder. The people murmur behind Horatio, words like, "unsuited" and "not right" float in to him. The decision is too hard to make.

One week, he asks. One week he is told. One week, he hopes. Just one more week.

ooOoo

Later, later, so much later

Calleigh's room is purple with green stripes. She sits in the middle of a shag rug, metal parts and tiny screwdrivers strewn around her. She stares intently at a series of gears, fingers brushing over the teeth gently as she whispers softly to herself.

Horatio kneels next to her, cocks his head so he can hear her.

"It's time, soon it's time. They don't mean it. They said so. It's just a joke. He likes to scream, they said. It doesn't mean anything. It's time. Soon, it's time."

Horatio recoils, rocking back onto his heels. The words from her room, It Is Time, finally clicking into place.

He has no doubt that Ryan is the 'he' she's talking about. His decision isn't easier, but he tells himself it is as he reaches a hand out to squeeze her shoulder one last time.

She moves slightly so his hand misses, and she ignores him in favor of selecting another gear to attach to her growing machination.

"It is time, but it isn't time yet," she says when he stands up, a clarity in the gaze she affixes to his face. "Soon, though. Can you hear him? He's always so loud right about now."

Horatio shakes his head.

Walter shakes everyone's hands and then simply sits. His suitcase packed neatly beside him. He'd begged so much for Horatio to bring it, that he couldn't say no. Never mind that Walter won't need it. No one will ever need it again.

The murals are still loud, but they tell a different story now, one Horatio is glad to see. He points at the bed and Walter sets the suitcase lovingly on the floor.

"Walter," Horatio says, voice cracked and Walter covers his face with his hands.

He sobs long and hard but in the end, he says he understands.

Horatio takes the empty suitcase with him when he leaves, trying and failing to ignore the sound of Walter's story being erased by his fists.

Ryan doesn't move when Horatio steps into his room. He's on his mat, arms wrapped around his middle, eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. The bucket is standing in a corner, half-full and Horatio focuses on it instead of Ryan's impassive face.

"So," he tries, coughing when his throat dries out.

"Fuck you," Ryan spits suddenly. "I know why you keep Calleigh and me here, but at least let Walter go. He doesn't deserve this."

He lunges up, wraps a hand around Horatio's throat and presses. He grins maniacally, but all it takes is a simple "Stop," and he collapses back onto his mat.

"Calleigh should go soon," Ryan says, like nothing's happened, like Horatio isn't trying to pretend he isn't gasping for air.

"And what about you?"

Ryan laughs, the bitterness bleeding into Horatio's heart. "I belong here. I love it here. They let me throw my shit at them and they can't do fuck about it."

"You want to stay."

"Don't you listen?" Ryan turns over, back to Horatio. Dismissive. "I belong here."

He doesn't move when Horatio leaves.

One week, he asks. No more, he's told.

The decision has been made. And it's not what he wanted at all.

ooOoo

A/N: The event that broke them all? I have no concrete idea. Probably something similar to one of them was being attacked (i.e. Calliegh or Ryan) and one of the others had to kill the attacker (if Calleigh is attacked, Ryan is the shooter and vice versa). Walter was a witness to these events and froze. From Ryan's comments, he is judging them based on what they did. Walter witnessed the attack and death and is least screwed up; Calleigh killed the person and needs to stay in the psych unit for a bit longer; Ryan was attacked, perhaps he even helped kill the attacker, and he definitely needs the most help.

"It is time" refers to when they interact with Ryan to feed him, change out his bucket, whatever else they need to do. He screams at them but they don't provoke it.

"Am I real" refers to Ryan being on drugs and "floating" away. At this point, he is too shell-shocked to react to Horatio's assessment of him.

Walter paints as a release, and in all likelihood was ready to go home when Horatio said he wouldn't take him. This offers a setback, and Ryan can hear Walter going crazy, hence why he swears at Horatio.

Horatio bases his decisions for all of them on one of them—usually Ryan. And, obviously, it's wrong.

Thanks to anyone who read it!