Will seemed to be a fine definition of irony. He had to come to the nuthouse and founds a sense of sanity. Maybe these places did help some people, though not in the way they intended.
"Well," Fisher said dryly, looking around his barren room, "at least you've got a mind of your own." Fisher's room was really boring and empty. He didn't even really have personal items in here. "I don't care about the room," he shrugged, wrinkling his mouth in thought. "It's just a place they stuck me until they ship me off elsewhere. Besides, even if I did give a shit about it, I don't have any money for... feather lamps or whatever you're supposed to put in here," he chuckled slightly.