"It's not working," Robin confessed to Barney one sultry summer afternoon, having exorcised some of her relationship anguish in a strenuous impromptu baseball game with Barney, Ellie, and two of her friends. Such blatantly athletic activities might one have seemed grossly out of character for both of them, but parenthood (and the resumption of their friendship after Ted's wedding) had forced drastic changes in them that have proved to be extremely beneficial. Their romantic relationship might have crashed and burned, but their understanding of each other had only increased with time once the shock of the divorce had worn off.

Still, Robin thought she'd be crossing another one of those invisible relationship lines with that comment, and felt a desire to bite back her words the minute they had escaped her mouth. Ted had specifically sought Barney's blessing before he asked her out again, and he'd actually been very supportive. They had been nothing more than friends for eleven years, and they were both grateful for the constancy of that after so many years of ups and downs.

But those old wounds and passions still existed, even if they were hidden by memory and the ravages of time. Robin remembered those first few years after the divorce too well. She'd been consumed by bitterness and an ambition she hadn't let herself enjoy while Barney drowned into self-destruction. They'd chosen paths completely away from each other, and taken things to miserable extremes. It had taken a long time to fight back to being in each other lives, and she didn't want to mess it up again.

However, her worries seemed to be unfounded at this point in time. Barney seemed remarkably unfazed by her comments.

He nonchalantly took another sip of water from his water bottle, his eye trained on Ellie a few feet away from them. "I'm not surprised," he told her.

"Is that a crack at my relationship history?" Robin asked him, feeling annoyed. "Your track record over the past decade and a half hasn't been too stellar, either."

Barney turned to gaze at her, looking uncharacteristically serious for the time being. "Are you seriously telling me that you actually wanted to move to Westchester? Or that Ted was going to ditch that nice suburban set-up and move here?" He shook his head. "Not happening."

"It's not just about the commute," Robin insisted.

"Then what else is wrong?" Barney asked.

"Ted's still in love with Tracy," Robin said softly. "It's not going away – it's this impossible ideal that no one can live up to. And I'm expected to fulfill this role for Penny and Luke, and Ted expects me to back him up on it, and it's really not working, it's awkward, and they're starting to resent me, and it's making all of us miserable. And that might be worth it if the feelings were there, but – "

"– They're not," Barney correctly surmised.

Robin turned to look at him. "I'm sorry, Barney. You have got to be the last person who wants to hear this."

Barney sighed. "Do you think the feelings are there for him?"

Robin looked off into the distance, at the groups of happy, carefree couple and children surrounding them. She felt as far removed from them as humanly possible, and for the millionth time in the past few months she was wondering why she thought this relationship was a good idea in the first place. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I don't think so."

She paused a moment, stealing a look at Barney. He remained silent.

"Before Ted met Tracy, and he was lonely or confused or miserable, he would always think back on me and become convinced that our relationship not working out was what caused all of his problems," Robin said. She looked down at her hands. "I did the same thing, too. Especially when I was lonely and thought that my only other chance of having things work out was gone. But I think that's all it is for is for both of us – a fantasy. It's not real. It's not going to make everything else go away."

Her eyes met Barney's again, and she felt her guilt slowly melt into anger as he cocked his head to the right.

He knew. All this time, he knew. The stupid bastard.

"If you say 'I told you so,' I am going to drop kick you five boroughs over," Robin told him. "Ellie can look for you this time. I'm not helping."

Barney held up his hands. 'I didn't say anything," he protested mildly, sounding like he wanted to collapse in peals of laughter.

"You should have," Robin retorted.

"Look, Robin, I'm not one to speak with any sort of authority on this kind of thing. Our marriage went bust, after all. Mostly because of me. There's never really been anyone for me after that. Ellie's the only relationship I've ever had that's lasted. But this thing, with you and Ted – "he shrugged. "I didn't think it would last. For all the reasons you've stated."

"You could have told me," Robin admonished him.

"You were happy," Barney argued. "You're still my bro, Robin. Both you and Ted. I wasn't going to mess with that, even if it just lasted for a few weeks."

Robin sighed. "Well, I guess this isn't going to be as painful as I feared," she stated. She turned to look at him. "At least you've managed one lasting relationship. I'm still zero for nothing."

Barney didn't reply to that, and Robin thought she really had gone too far this time.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," Barney said gently. "I still believe what I said when we split up, Robin. Our marriage was successful, even if it ended after three years."

Robin shot him a wry smile. "I know," she said.

They lapsed into somber silence, their eyes rooted to Ellie tossing around a beach ball in the distance.

"Do you wish we had tried harder?" Robin asked after a few moments.

"I do," Barney says immediately. There's a sadness and a regret in his voice that Robin has only heard a handful of times, and she knows she'd just unearthed one of those wounds that they try their best to keep buried. "But maybe it wouldn't have worked out anyway. Maybe we would have made each other even more miserable, and wouldn't be talking to each other right now. And I wouldn't have you, and I wouldn't have Ellie." He left out a frustrated huff of breath. "That sounds very much like an awesome-less existence."

Robin felt a giggle escape from her throat, feeling the seriousness of the conversation start to transform into levity once more. Barney typically had that effect on people.

It was better not to think of those old hurts more than she had to. She had no answer to how to heal them, even after all of this time.

"It's better that you don't have to suffer through that, then," she told him.