Hello again! Here I am stupidly starting another full-length fic. I started writing this over summer. I know this sort of idea has been done before, but hopefully not in this exact way. This is AU and certainly not something I would ever, ever want to happen on the show. The tone is going to be very different to the characters we know on the show because of what they will go through.

Please leave a review telling me if you think I should continue and that this is worth a shot, because I'm honestly not sure. I'm so iffy about angst writing, and I don't want to be a let down here :S

So reviews are greatly appreciated! Thankyou, and please tell me if I should post more or not. Hope you like it :)

She allowed her face to conceal her hands, tears streaming down her face and catching in the creases of her palms. Mascara clogged her eyelashes as she continued to cry, body curled up as her entire frame shook helplessly. She briefly paused for air, not daring to open her eyes. Not daring to even look at the world.

Robin couldn't stand knowing that this was real. Oh, god. This was real.

She wasn't going to wake up from this nightmare any second, clutching her elbows in a cold sweat. There would be no wave of relief when she realized that this was all nothing more than a bad dream.

This was happening.

She'd already pinched herself enough times to know that this was unfeigned. Red and pink blotches would litter her skin by tomorrow, however she doubted that she would have removed her face from her hands by then to look.

There was this sinking feeling. All over her- not just in her stomach. The feeling spread to every inch of her body. It felt as though her own skin was weighing her down. Any time she'd boasted about herself, her looks, her life, seemed bitterly ironic now. She'd give everything not to be herself.

Damnit, she was meant to be strong. Stuff like this wasn't meant to affect her, was it?

She didn't know. She didn't know how she was meant to react, how she was meant to go from here. That perhaps she really might close her eyes and wake up to find Barney's arms draped at all angles over her upper body in a lazy attempt at spooning. Or maybe her cheek would be pressed to his chest, with his chin a fraction above her head. She would be able to hear his heart, and his hands would be secure on her back.

If he had a heart. Because honestly, the man she knew for eight years, the man she fell in love with, the man she married, would not be capable of this.

Wouldn't be capable of leaving her alone and pregnant.

Was she simply gullible? Had her years in New York made her loose her street senses? This guy, this blonde man with suits and sleazy lines, had completely got the better of her. Because she really had believed he was in love with her.

All those years she'd been afraid of loving someone for the very reason that she'd be left alone. Admitting she could love somebody was the most difficult, yet real thing she'd ever done. She had felt so safe with him, so adored. Her flaws didn't matter to him. She wasn't that scared, ice cold girl that arrived from Canada years previously. He melted her. It was cheesy, unlikely and extremely nauseating, but he had.

When they were together, she wanted to make it work. She cared about compromise and honesty and all the crap that used to make her want to drill a hole all the way to the other side of the world whenever anybody started talking about it.

She wanted a marriage, not just a wedding. And they had one… and damnit if it hadn't been awesome. Laser-tag on their anniversaries, fine scotch tasting, ridiculous surprises and holidays accenting almost every few months. Literally, it had been dream like. They were still human, and they still had their arguments and the odd night spent with one of them sulking on the couch, but it worked.

It worked because they loved each other.

So she thought, at least.

What she never thought that the man that held her on that rooftop, actual tears glistening in his blue eyes as he asked her to marry her, and immediately whispered 'I love you' into her brown curls as their lips met, would be capable abandoning her in a letter.

And then there was the kid. Robin was terrified of opening her eyes for another reason, too. There was a significant bulge in her middle that indicated pregnancy.

It was a few weeks ago that she had started to come around to the idea of a little Barney and Robin taking residence in her womb.

She wasn't meant to have kids. So of course the shock that she felt when she found out wasn't entirely optimistic. She was terrified. She'd been drinking pretty heavily a good way into the first few months of unknown pregnancy, and had been petrified for the baby, inundated with worries that she was going to be a bad mother to her son or daughter.

Barney, on the other hand, had been ridiculously excited by his impending fatherhood. He took every opportunity to make sure she was comfortable and happy. Despite the anxiety she felt, it was hard not to join in with his gleeful anticipation, and it was hard not to grab a marker pen and start circling heaps of items from the multiple catalogues he had very quickly acquired.

She had decided that they could do this. Check ups had proven that the baby was just fine, and she knew that she could do this if she had him. A team. No longer were they lone wolves; Barney and Robin were going to be parents. And scary as it was, she knew that it could be pretty darn awesome.

Now, though, she was horrified by the bump, knowing that this wasn't a game. This wasn't some doll they had been shopping for. It was a child. Her own child, who was going to grow up fatherless. The sinking feeling grew even heavier as it occurred to her that she'd have to raise it on her own.

And now nothing could be about her. The pain, the anger, the aggression and the downright desperation she was feeling towards her life couldn't even be channeled because she was no longer her own top priority. She had to take care of the kid. One she honestly didn't even know if she could want anymore. Fear flooded her, realizing that she might not love it. Might even resent her own baby.

No. No, no no.

She could not let herself view her baby as a parasite. That was the worst possible scenario.

Neither could she hate herself, either. Because she was essential to the survival of her fetus. Half of her knew what she had to do, and the other half was sure she wasn't capable of getting up everyday and letting herself become a slave to carrying out normal life, preparing for this future after her husband was gone.

But people broke up all the time. They carried on. They were strong. She couldn't become this pitiful, self-indulgent person she so desperately wanted to be in this moment. She had no idea to what extent she would even let herself feel sad.

Another sob wrecked her body, causing her to curl further into herself. Her shoulders were moving up and down so fast, finding it impossible to catch the air. She opened her eyes and took deep breaths, attempting to soothe herself.

You're not just you, anymore. She informed herself. When you let yourself slip, you're dropping something that has no control over the fall.

She decided then that she would have to take control. She could not allow herself to fade away, let anxiety and panic take over. That choice was oh so appealing, but she couldn't. Her whole life, she'd been strong. She'd been strong and she was going to be that again now.

But as she fixated her watery gaze on a spot of the wall, she couldn't help but hear the same words running through her head again and again. Words of her father, something he'd said to her when she was just 8 years old. She'd told him she hated him for making her go hunting. He'd thrown all of her dresses away, using them as bait for wolves. Tearful and bitter, she'd screamed abusive words at him for the first time. Afterwards, she had expected rage, but none came.

Instead, he sat her down in his study, air somewhat clouded with the overpowering scent of expensive cigars. He looked her straight in the eyes and said "RJ, if you keep going the way you are, you will never amount to anything. Nobody will ever tolerate you. If you are weak and if you let your emotions lead you then you will never stop being a disappointment."

The last line was the worst though.

"You will end up on your own."

On her wedding night, she'd finally been able to banish those words from her mind for what was meant to be forever. Barney's lips had brushed over her and she'd simply known. He was wrong. That bastard of a man was wrong. She was so loved, so surrounded by friends and family. She was a highflying journalist with a host of supportive co-workers. She had amounted to a lot. And she was certainly not alone.

Funny thing was, as she sat there, numbness settling across her, it struck her that her father had been right all along.

The cold, crisp air of the Manhattan morning skimmed along Barney's skin. He straightened his tie calmly, following the act up with a brush of his lapels as he continued walking.

A breeze nipped at his skin, tingling against his gloveless hands so he could really feel the cold. He had decided to walk to the airport, giving him time to think about everything he didn't want to think about. That one thing that he could not bring himself to reflect, but would obviously plague him for however long he had left.

He sighed, watching the marks his breath made in the winter sky as he breathed out. He had no clue how he was meant to be thinking.

There was hardly an online help forum for 'how to leave your pregnant wife.'

The soles of his shoes felt about ten more paces in the right direction. Perhaps there was a helpline, but he wasn't going looking for it. Even if there were, there certainly wouldn't be any guidelines for how to deal with his situation.

Hell, he didn't even know what his situation was.

But the worst part of it was that he was almost at peace with it. The fact that in a few hours, he'd be leaving the airport he was currently headed towards, leaving the city and leaving everything he'd ever cared about to walk to his death. Yeah, he was pretty sure this was his death.

And the most alarming bit was how completely calm he was. Strolling the streets like it could be any other morning, whilst Robin read the words that he honestly had no idea what to do to her. She could have woken up at any second, and be reading them, crying over them.

At the last moment, he had been so tempted to screw up the letter he wrote. To grab her by the hands and tell her the truth. For her to listen, for him to be able to say goodbye properly. Kiss her, promise her he was doing this because he loved her, because he loved the awkward bloating of her lower stomach where their kid was currently growing.

He wanted her to do what she always did and make it better. All the hard stuff, she made okay just by existing.

That was why he had to keep her existing.

He made his work problems such a joke within the group. Refusing to tell them what he did, acting all the time like it was some big prank. In reality, it was so much more. He was wrapped up in some extremely shady stuff. He never really let himself think anything of it. It was easier to ignore what was actually going on during transactions- shred the paperwork and let the paychecks keep rolling in. Never in a million years would he have expected things to change.

He wouldn't have seen a blow up like this coming.

One of their biggest contracts fell through, basically devastating the country. Korea was threatening them. They threatened one guy Barney worked with, demanding that he flew out to their base immediately. GNB brushed it off, laughing. How many angry contract holders demanded retribution? Almost all.

So they didn't think anything of refusing. Only, the next week, that guy found his wife and 3 kids dead. By the time Barney could get his head around that, the guy didn't work there anymore. In fact nobody had seem him. The news didn't report on it. Nobody dared question it. Like he'd never been real.

There was a sinking feeling in his gut that the two of them might be reunited by the end of the plane journey.

When the company called his name, it couldn't have come at a worse time.

A few months ago, Robin found out she was pregnant.

It came completely out of the blue. 3 years into their marriage, they hadn't once given the 'kids' thing a second thought. Neither of them discussed having a baby, or any follow up of Robin's infertility. Sure, they knew there were ways they could have a baby if they wanted to. It just wasn't them. But then she was there, trembling nervously on the couch clutching a test.

He'd kissed her. Because damnit, he'd wanted kids since he was a kid. His promiscuous adult life had made him forget most of that stuff, but if anybody could rekindle those feelings, it was one Robin Scherbatsky.

His instincts had kicked in, immediately proving her with a constant, unwavering supply of comfort and support. More than anything, he was there to tend to her needs and discuss her insecurities. That was what he wanted. Well, and to shop for some miniature suits and ballgowns, because after all, their baby would have to be dressed up to the nines as soon as Robin hit nine months, he had informed her.

She'd laughed like music.

Now, he wasn't going to get to meet the kid. It was crushing him to know it, but he had to remind himself why. It was his fault that his job was what it was. It was him that pressed the buttons, made the calls and took part in a good half of the things the company abroad was angry about. He was going to have to pay the price.

But not her. And certainly not the baby.

He blinked rapidly and kept walking, determined not to break down. He could not break down. That wasn't fair. He didn't get to do that. If he let it go, put his feelings above Robin's safety, then she could end up dead. Her death was the one thing he could never let happen.

Here he was. The guy who wanted to make every night awesome. Sung songs went on adventures and turned up in disguises and costumes, bragging righteously about conquests. Coming up with anything he could to provide amusement. And now that was all going to be over.

He had to keep telling himself that sure, it was letting little Tommy Lahey beat him in the laser tag league that bothered him most. Not the fact that Robin might even hurt herself due to what he'd written.

A low seed of horror rippled across him at that thought. He would have to trust that she wouldn't do that. He would have to trust that the beautiful, incredible woman that he loved wouldn't do anything to harm herself when they had a baby to think about.

God, he wished his note could've been kinder. It couldn't, though. It had to be realistic. If the company came searching for evidence, they had to believe that he'd actually left her. They were smart. Powerful. They'd be able to see through almost any ploy. He couldn't leave any possible clue to be decoded, any scrap of romance or remorse in that letter if he wanted his wife to survive this.

He had to be heartless. Lie his way through the vilest set of words he'd ever penned and leave them for her to read on her own.

He let his thumb rub his eye, preventing the tears forming to leak down. He bit his lip hard until he could taste blood, so desperate to let himself crumple in the middle of the road.

He didn't. He had to be strong.

Strong like Robin.

Next to her on their chrome sheets sat an abandoned letter, ripped in the corners with fingermarks already causing strains in the paper. It was face down against the sheets were she wouldn't have to see his handwriting should she glance at it. Right now, she couldn't bring herself to move it. It hurt too much to know that earlier this morning he'd written and touched it.

Black handwriting inked the words:

Robin,

I know this is going to be hard to read, but I'm leaving you. I'm sorry it's had to come to this, but you and me just isn't enough anymore. Again, this is going to be hard, but I've had an affair. A few, if you know what I mean. I know how wrong cheating is, but I couldn't help it. I guess I'm just not cut out for the monogamy thing.

So with that in mind, I'm sorry I married you. I shouldn't have proposed unless I really loved you. I thought I did, Robin. I said it enough times, but they were empty words. I knew something was wrong after you said yes. I kept telling myself that if I said it enough times and did enough romantic gestures then I'd start to feel it.

I didn't. The baby brought that to light. I know I acted excited but I was just scared. I can't be a Dad. And I don't think I love you. Maybe I did once, back when we first dated, but getting back together was me trying to prove that I could love again. And I couldn't.

It isn't fair to stay with you because I'd probably end up walking out sooner or later. Sooner seemed better.

It's bad you had to find out this way, but for the best. I'm moving away today. You can do whatever you want with my stuff. Burn it, sell it, whatever makes you feel better. But you won't see me again. Don't try to find me, because I don't want to see you. Please don't try to make me come and be a father to that thing because I can't be. I won't be a good one. I left you some money in our bank but I doubt you'll take it. If you do, it's enough to cover 18 years. I hope you use it.

Look after yourself if you can. And I really am sorry we didn't work out the way you wanted.

Barney

Those were the words that would never really leave her.