Jim Moriarty remains in Corridor D for a few more days before he is finally released. Back in his old room, going back to his old life in Corridor C, is like torture. Worse than before.

He missed Sherlock. A lot. And he didn't really know why, but he started counting down the days until his nineteenth birthday even more diligently and closely than before. Jim doesn't just count months and weeks and days anymore, he counts hours and minutes and seconds.

Every day, he is getting closer and close to seeing Sherlock again. But his agony increases and increases for that very reason. Oh, he still thinks about how much he hates the kids and he's still totally obsessed with the idea of adult freedom.

But the more prevalent, deep-reaching thought is of seeing his friend once more.

Jim's nineteenth birthday is a day he won't soon forget. It is the day that he can finally see Sherlock again. And it's also the day that he can stop being treated like a child and more like a mature adult.

Even more excited than he thought he'd be on this occasion, Jim can't stop thinking about Sherlock. He wonders why this is, but he can't think of a valid explanation so he stops to avoid driving himself insane.

In the morning after breakfast, unlike normal, he is allowed to return to his room and read a book as his Corridor B room is being prepared for him. He sits there for a long time, engrossed in the story, before a nurse finally comes over to him and tells him that his room is ready.

This nurse isn't Jackie, the one he nearly stabbed a few months ago. In fact, he hasn't seen Jackie since then. It was possible that she quit. Sometimes, attacks like that are enough to make even the most caring of attendants in the facility to leave.

Actually, Jim hadn't seen very many nurses lately in the kids' corridor. He guessed that they were probably told to not really bother him. He was by far the most violent in the corridor.

Jim is escorted to his new room in the B corridor, but he doesn't really need to be escorted there. He knows where it is well enough. 

Back when his room was located  in the kids' corridor, he would sometimes stop by the adults' corridor on his way to meals. He would stay there for a few seconds, looking down the hall to see if there was anyone there that he could see.

He knew it was stupid and all, but he was looking for something. Other people like him. Jim would never admit that, but it was absolutely true. He'd wondered about himself sometimes, and this is one of the reasons why.

So when Jim is finally told that this is his new home, he does feel right at home there. The hall's appearance is basically the same as the kids' hall appearance, except the doors are wider and larger. The rooms are probably much bigger here also.

There are adults of all ages here. There are young adults like Jim, as well as people up to age forty or fifty. Jim's heard many stories about the oldest person here. She is an eighty-year old woman who went crazy after her husband died. But she's actually not that bad compared to some of the other people in the corridor.

She's never been placed in corridor D.

Jim hasn't seen many of the people in Corridor D while he was there, but he could infer from the screams he sometimes heard on a daily basis that they were mostly adults, with a few kids like him scattered around.

Was that good for Jim, that he'd be placed with all these adults now that were sometimes in Corridor D more than they were in their regular rooms? Jim wonders this, but he doesn't think too hard about it. He would risk it for the freedom that is implied for the adults.

Jim's room was toward the end of the corridor. It was pristine when he entered it, everything set up for his arrival. After his stay in Corridor D, they probably rushed the preparations of his new room. They wanted him out of C as soon as humanly possible.

The nurse begins to speak. "Welcome to Corridor B. We hope you enjoy your stay."

"What is this, a hotel?" Jim asks, brushing past the guards that had accompanied him and the nurse and walking in.

"If there's anything you need, you know to ring the bell on the door as always. But since you're an adult now, I hope you know your way around a little bit. Especially since you won't be escorted around like you used to sometimes. Especially when you were younger. You'll have to show up to all your new activities on your own. And if we can't find you, well, Corridor D awaits. But you know all that, right?"

"I'd assume so."

"Okay. Your new itinerary is on the back of the door. So when we leave, you should probably get going to wherever you're supposed to be right now. Right? See you around," the nurse said, leaving with the guards.

When they left, Jim does as he was instructed. Every morning at 8:00 is the wake-up alarm, followed by a trip to the cafeteria for breakfast. After that, the adults are allowed to go outside for a little while. Then, group therapy lectures and lunch. After this, a choice of individual or group therapy. This part is the same as before. Then, dinner at around 6:00 pm. They get to stay in their rooms after that, when all the socializing parts of the day are over.

The adults' schedule is basically a reverse of the childrens' schedules. This is so that the two groups would never really interact with one another. Whoever owns this place thinks that it would be disheartening for the kids to see adults here. They don't want the kids to believe they'd be here forever.

But Jim doesn't even know how long he'd be here. He just realises right then and there that he might actually be there forever after that little attack he tried to pull off.

Before Jim could keep thinking and maybe over thinking, he begins  to walk off toward the outside yard. This is supposed to be his outside exercise time.

When he gets outside, Jim looks around. A few people stop to see who was entering, but no one really takes any interest or notice.

He is sitting on a bench a little farther away. The same bench that Jim used to sit on when he was a kid. His gaze is firmly fixed on his hands, and he is probably thinking about something or other. Jim doesn't even want to guess what, but he is still overjoyed to see the other man.

"Sherlock!" Jim nearly yells across the facility. Sherlock looks up to see Jim walking over.

"Take a seat," Sherlock says. "I'm deducing."

Jim feels bad for expecting more...excitement from Sherlock. He didn't even realise he got his hopes up. Oh, well... Better than nothing.

"You're what?"

"Trying to figure out things about the people around us. But since I know basically all there is to know about everyone here, my deductions are getting a bit boring."

"Oh," Jim says, the conversation lulling. Sherlock looks over at him to continue, and he does. " You know back when I was a kid, I used to sit on this bench when we were supposed to go outside. I liked to sit here because it faced the door going back inside and the horizon at the same time. I find it unnerving to sit with my back to a door."

"As do I. But... back when you were a kid, though? You were still a kid an hour ago!"

Jim laughs loudly, and so does Sherlock. "Maybe so, but I cannot say I think the same way about my past situation."

"When do you think you stopped being a kid?"

"About six months ago. I had been thinking I was too old for that corridor a while before that, of course, but by then I think I just snapped."

"I wonder sometimes if release is really favourable for me," Sherlock says when Jim is done.

"Well, that's a non-sequitur to end all non-sequiturs. What made you think of that?"

"When you said you stopped thinking you were a kid years ago. I could say the same of the way I used to think. But my brother used to drill it into my head well enough that I was a child. And so did my father... But I don't want to talk much about that right now."

"Sure, I get it. That's understandable. So we are supposed to get a group therapy lecture next?"

"Yes. Whoever is your new group therapist is going to give you a thirty minute lecture on how to be a better citizen or something. It's really not therapy, it's more or less just information that we need to know before we go back into the real world."

"If we ever do go back soon."

"Some of the adults here have been here for over thirty years."

"I know. How long do you think you'll be here?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. I guess that once they realize that I'm not insane and that I really am just a freak, I think they'll let me go."

"Right. See, I don't have that advantage. I'm just insane. Not a genius," Jim says, laughing under his breath a little bit. Sherlock chuckles also, and he aims to respond back to Jim. But before he could, a nurse walks outside and begins telling everyone to come in.

"Okay, time for lecture," Sherlock says, standing up. Jim follows him, and they walk back inside together.

"How do I know who my new group lecture therapist is?"

"Go down the hall with me. They'll recognise you soon enough."

Jim does exactly what he's supposed to, and they do recognize him. But they tell him to keep following Sherlock because they'll be in the same group together.

"Wow, we're lucky. Sometimes they like to break up groups of friends."

"I think it's probably because of all the stuff I did when I was a kid. They're trying to make me happy now, I think."

"Well then don't argue about it; that's great!" Sherlock says and leads Jim  into the lecture room to join a group of adults all seated in a circle already.