Barney finds his way to the bar by touch alone, his vision blurred by a swollen eye, his nose plugged with dried blood, his lips glued shut around a stinging cut. His friends make loud, grating noises of pantomime concern - because surely this is going to lead to some legendary Barney story - but all he really wants it to sit and let his body rest, let equilibrium return.
Still, he laughs, tuning his volume to theirs and he weaves an obvious tale about sex-gone-wrong with a hot judo instructor who subsequently used him for pummel practice. "Worth it," he croaks, affectedly. He makes as if to show them the dirty photographic evidence on his phone and they all turn away and make disgusted-face.
Ted calls him out on the lie, but that's part of the rhythm of the thing, it's expected. In return, Barney lets out the obligatory sigh and rolls his eyes, like his bubble's just been burst. He tries to glare at Ted for ruining his tale of sexual conquest but it ends up a pained squint.
And the story morphs into Barney having got into some random accident/falling-down-stairs/walking-into-doors thing. He waves away the details because he sells it by his embarrassment, like this reality, this tawdry truth is beneath his level of awesome.
Later, Barney catches Marshall at the bar and asks him about the guy who mugged him in the park but he quickly backs off from the stink of suspicion he kicks up with the question. Still, he wonders how Marshall got off so easily, if maybe it was someone different. There are a lot of desperate, evil people in Manhattan and the lean guy in a suit is surely going to attract the attention of some of them, no matter how awesome he is.
Even later, when only Barney and Robin remain, she slides into the booth beside him, her fingers making patterns in the air, like she wants to touch his injuries but knows they've booth changed too much to let that happen.
Maybe.
Maybe things aren't so inevitable.
Robin asks him to pay for the bar bill because she's out of cash. Normally nobody has to do that - ask him, that is. Normally he just does it, silently picking up the tab as if their friendship is something he can buy. She knows she takes advantage of him and it twists in his gut that she does it anyway.
This time he pretends he's left his wallet at the office. It's the least valuable thing he had stolen.
"Where's your Cartier?" Robin asks him distractedly, pointing to his bare wrist. She shifts on her seat and fishes out her cell to check the time.
"Lost it," he says flippantly.
"Yeah, like that's true." Robin snorts. "You love that watch."
"I don't /love/ it," there's bile in his throat and he has to take his hands off the table to stop them shaking. Delayed shock, he guesses.
"Where were you all evening?" Robin says, still playing with her cell.
"Working late... strip club... where were /you/?" He grates against her, irritability prickling under his skin. He feels increasingly freaked out, scared even, and it's making him defensive.
She reaches under the table and takes his hand, squeezes it, then leans in and places a tiny kiss on his cheek.
He winces from the double pain, on the surface and in his chest.
"So, that must have been one big monkey that got you, dude?" She smiles and her sympathy chokes him.
"You know it," Barney says, realizing he's admitting everything. But when she's this close, and there's kissing, even of the platonic kind, his nerves shriek with the pain of it.
"Should have just given up your wallet." Robin tilts her head up to the ceiling. She couldn't be more wrong because that's exactly what he'd done. He's no hero. The beating he took was just a nasty bonus. "You wanna stay here tonight?"
"Sofa?" He asks, wondering if his ribs can stand it.
She shrugs. "Meh, take my bed," she says. "Just don't do anything gross."
He laughs, a nervous tick to hide how weak this makes him look, like a little boy bugging his parents when he wakes in the middle of the night and sees monsters in his room. He understands now why some people are afraid of the dark, although he'd never admit that to Robin. Instead he says out loud, "It's a deal," because he doesn't want to be alone tonight and her smile makes him regret ever letting her go.
"I'll see you in the morning," Robin says and gets to her feet. "Goodnight Barney."
"Night," he nods, draining his scotch, then when she's out of earshot - "Thanks."