November 2009

"And for Barney, this was the second that would last forever."

His breath caught and his chest felt oddly tight, like he was about to have a heart attack. His mind raced, all sorts of unrelated thoughts just tumbling in his head as his cheeks flushed and a cold feeling washed over him. There was an odd feeling in his throat, and he blinked rapidly, forcing the tears (that weren't supposed to be there) back as the moment passed.

Hands. What were they doing. He didn't know. He didn't know what he was doing, nothing could save him now. He forced himself to think straight. He had to get out of here. Now.

"I should go. Rough night." His legs brought him over to the gang and his mouth uttered something. He was surprisingly pleased that his voice didn't crack. He really was good at this lying thing.

The gang replied something, but his brain picked one voice out from the mess - Robin's. "I'm sorry."

It's too late too late toolate.

"Don't be."

Headed out of the bar. Up the lift. Down the alley, right, left, open door. Simple instructions, don't think, just do. Enter apartment, right, right into bedroom. Get rid of all the rose petals, all the candles, all the stupid things you did because you thought she loved you back even for a second.

When Barney had the bag of rose petals and candles in one hand, the room with no trace of his ever being there, he walked out of the apartment and dumped it in the trash. As he walked away, he glanced through the clear windows of MacLaren's, saw her, and saw him sitting there.

And in that moment, Barney was sure. And he walked on.

None of the gang saw him again. 48 hours later, a missing report was filed with the police.

Barney Stinson was gone.

November 2011

Billy looked at himself in the mirror. Dressed in a beautiful suit, Dolce Gabbana, blue striped stuff, jacket perfectly set. Nothing had changed in the two years, exactly two years since he had walked out on his old life.

He laughed morosely. Yeah, right. He took one last look at the mirror, before pulling the tie off, carefully taking off his jacket and placing it on the bed, suiting down. It was the only suit he owned now. He swore to himself he would get rid of it everytime he saw it, but there were just some things so deeply ingrained in his past that wouldn't budge.

Stored the suit back into the cupboard, to be worn exactly one year from now, a tradition he had developed. Things were very different for him now. Gone was Barney Stinson. The cliché uttering, pick up line expert, women connoisseur was gone, had been breaking apart slowly for years until all that was left was a heart surviving on a love that persevered. And when that heart was broken, Barney Stinson died along with it.

The first thing he had done as not-Barney was take a cab to the airport. He hadn't taken anything from his apartment, not his wall-TV, not his suits, not even his Stormtrooper. He still kinda missed that Stormtrooper. Took the first flight to any state in America, didn't even know what it was until he was on the plane and airborne.

Los Angeles, California.

Then he had spent weeks just walking around, in the dark or the daylight, he didn't care because suddenly, nothing mattered. When work calls started coming in, he threw his cell phone into the train tracks and bought a new one. No numbers. He never had the habit of remembering phone numbers anyway. Went to hotels when he was tired and used one of his multiple fake credit cards, ignoring the pointed looks of disbelief at his run-down state. Oh yeah, because he had ditched the suit upon getting off the plane and bought a single pair of jeans and a shirt that went unchanged for two weeks straight.

It was like Shannon all over again, except…. Worse. With Shannon, she hadn't been his only hope. He had other things in his life that he cared about. Peace Corp. His lifestyle. Saving the world. Sure, he had changed massively when she dumped him, but he didn't give up.

But Barney Stinson, the Barney Stinson that he created the moment he saw that suit advertisement, was always precariously close to the edge. Awesome-Barney had always been a façade, but one that grew so close to his heart that it was almost real. But real-Barney had been giving up, slowly, cracking from the pressure for a while. Awesome-Barney had sworn never to fall in love again, because girls are bitches and will end up breaking your heart. But he cracked, and he fell in love. Unrequited love, then requited love, then unrequited love, then the frankly very confusing period when they slept together. He had put everything, everything he had left on that love.

And it fell through.

So Barney fell through.

Not-Barney found himself thinking about one thing though, and it wasn't about Ted or Lily or Marshall or her, not-Barney had locked that part of his brain down. It was about work. He wondered if they'd find him. They probably will. They always did.

And find him they did.

He was in some hotel with some famous-sounding name, considering shaving for the first time in weeks, maybe going out and finding something to do, when the knock on his door came.

Instinctively, he knew. After all, the credit cards that he'd been using, it was theirs. Wasn't hard for them to track him down.

He opened the door and saw two men in suits staring back at him. Stepped aside, and they entered.

He'd been here before. Same situation, but different people.

"Barney Stinson. Or should I saw, Billy Smith," A man whom he knew as Jackson said, sitting on the couch. "You've always favoured that name out of all the others."

"What can I say? I like the initials," Barney replied, his voice slightly hoarse. He hadn't been talking for a while and it was almost as though it took a while for him to get the hang of what to reply again.

"It's been a month. It's time," The other, Bennett, replied.

"The Company is more than happy to let you take on a new role with your new life. Perhaps something more low key, until you feel like returning to the offices."

The Company. He and The Company went back a long way, ever since he was mugged in college. Things happened that night, and after that, the Company had been a part of his life.

"We were with you when you broke up with Shannon. And it was for the better, you became a much better person. Suits, offices, lots of money, whatever you wanted. Women, scotch, laser tag."

"I don't care about the money any-"

"We know you don't. We're offering you to the chance to just be a low key robber here. Someone… unskilled. Many attempts that fail, but never enough evidence to get you arrested. Just a life in the suburbs, pretending to try to rob banks and creating just enough distractions for us to do the real job."

"We'll cover all expenses, as always. Erase your track if you want us too. The police gave up searching for you a few days back. Not that they'd ever come looking in California."

The men spoke alternately, and Barney knew all these. Deep down, he had always known the Company would come to pull him back from the brink. And this visit was what he needed.

"I'll do it."

"We know. I must say, I like the t-shirt look on you though. You might consider making that your thing when you're not wearing your uniform."

"Uniform?"

"Every supervillian needs a uniform," Jackson said, standing up and smiling thinly. "Surprise us."

And they walked out, leaving behind someone who wasn't hippie-Barney, awesome-Barney or not-Barney.

That was the day Billy Smith was born.