Chapter 5: Laundry Day, See You There
"NNooooooo," Ted Mosby protested, "There is no way…"
"Ted, just look at it!" Robin Scherbatsky laughed, directing his attention back to the screen of her laptop. Ted had been the only one home when Robin arrived at the shared apartment of Ted, Lily and Marshall that evening. The journalist immediately sat the architect down to view her latest discovery. He begrudgingly complied, only mildly interested in the `rare find` his friend kept badgering him about over test messages all day. The woman was giddy to witness her friend's reaction.
Ted stared, eyebrows knotted, at the scene unfolding on the computer: a curiously familiar blonde man, manically—yet nonthreateningly—laughing, decked out in a white lab coat and welding goggles, read aloud several ridiculous and insulting emails.
"Dude. Your'e not. My nemesis," Dr. Horrible said into the camera.
"Nnnooooooo," Ted uttered in disbelief once more, "that can't be…" he stole a glance at an excited Robin, "Robin, no!"
"Why not?" she practically shouted.
"Besides, there's kids in that park…" the blog continued. In that millisecond of dialogue Ted thought he recognized the sardonic tone, but quickly brushed that thought from his mind.
"Because Barney is not `Dr. Horrible`!" after saying it out loud for the first time Ted found himself nearly laughing at the outrageous idea, "he is not a lab coat wearing, gold bar melting, blogging—"
"Barney's already told us once he has a blog," Robin injected, her voice containing a hint of Sherlock Holmes, "that none of us have ever seen."
"Mad scientist," Ted finished with a sigh. He realized there would be no convincing Robin to drop this.
"Laundry day. See you there," Mosby turned his attention back to the computer, "Under things…tumbling," the awkward Doctor recited his poetry.
"Please don't tell me he's singing now…"
"Oh, he's singing!" Robin outright laughed.
"How did you find this?" the dark haired man couldn't help but crack a slight smile at the maladroit musical.
"On accident, really," Scherbatsky reached over to increase the volume on the laptop for her own amusement, "I was researching Dr. Horrible."
"...special needs…anyways."
"It can't be him Robin," the journalist shot Ted dangerous look, "Barney does not blog about being a super villain with a crush on a girl in a Laundromat!"
"Are you kidding me?" Ted didn't answer, "Oh so I suppose Barney has an eviler twin running around, bl-" Robin could barely finished the word without giggling, "blogging now?"
"…stop…the pain."
Ted silently watched the screen. He wanted to disprove Robin and believe that his friend was not making an idiot out of himself on the internet. This wasn't him. This wasn't Barney Stinson. Barney was, strangely enough, both a lot dumber and smarter than whoever made this. Of course, this whoever looked an awful lot like Barney. He sounded an awful lot like Barney. He didn't act much like Barney, though, and that was the only detail allowing Ted to hold onto the hope of this buffoon not being Barney.
"That's the plan," Dr. Horrible declared, "Rule the world. You and me. Any day," The doctor then gave the webcam a sly wink.
Aw, crap, Ted thought.
"Okay so maybe it is Barney," Robin burst into victorious laughter, "But what on earth would give Barney the idea to impersonate Doctor…" Ted paused. He knew exactly what would give the womanizer that idea, "Oh man, you don't think this is all part of some elaborate plan of his to prove us wrong do you? To convince us that he can pick up chicks by—"
"Ted," Robin interrupted the architect a second time, all traces of laughter had left her voice. He was surprised at how quickly her demeanor had transformed from school girl giddy to news reporter serious, "I'm having a hard time myself believing this is a hoax."
"Oh c'mon, Robin, sure that might be Barney, but I doubt he's the real Dr. Horrible," the woman didn't reply. Ted felt the air between them grow tense as her jubilant mood completely vanished, her gaze sticking to the screen of her laptop, "Robin, this is Barney we're talking about, you do realize?"
"This video is dated six years ago, Ted."
"What?" Ted swiveled back to the computer to inspect it himself.
"I looked through just about all of them," Robin confessed, "the most recent one I could find is also six years old."
"Yeah, but, you can fake that can't-"
"It coincides with Dr. Horrible's move from LA to New York…"
"Oh my God, you think this is real," it was Ted's turn to chuckle now, "Robin this is so a hoax! What sort of criminal keeps a blog of his crimes?"
"They're true, I crossed referenced them with news reports from Los Angeles," the journalist pleaded. Ted was beginning to wonder if she ever received an ounce of sleep last night with all her researching.
"Anybody could have gotten a hold of those news reports and connected the dots. Besides, nobody knows what this guy clearly looks like so what's to stop somebody from pulling one over on the rest of the internet?"
"Yeah, but this somebody you're proposing is Barney," Robin raised a brow at her opinion of flawed logic on Ted's part.
"And you're proposing our friend is a criminal currently more dangerous than the mafia!" the man snapped back.
"When did you meet Barney?"
"Five years ago, but what does that even matter? I met you a few months ago it doesn't make you Wonder Woman," Robin folded her arms over her chest, "My God, Robin Scherbatsky are you Wonder Woman?!" Ted gasped in pretend awe.
The woman rolled her eyes, "Ted, seriously. What does Barney do for a living?" Mosby prepared to answer but stopped himself, realizing he didn't have one, "Have any of you ever been to his apartment? Met his family? What about that bruise on his head?"
"What about it?" Ted remembered the giant purple mark decorating the side of Barney's face.
"Yesterday," Robin began hesitantly, "Yesterday when I ran into…Dr. Horrible," she hated using that stupid name, "he fell over too," Ted Mosby sighed, his expression one of annoyance for he already knew what the girl before him would try to sell. Robin sensed Ted's disbelief, "He hit his head! I saw it!"
"You said you were practically unconscious," he moaned.
"Practically, not totally!" Robin yelled in exasperation, "he hit his head and those goggles popped off his face and…and I could have sworn he looked just like-"
"Don't!" this time it was Ted's turn to interrupt. He was no longer amused by Scherbatsky's find, "Robin you hit your head pretty damn hard. Your mind could be playing tricks on you," the journalist wordlessly shook her head in denial, "you saw the bruise, then the video."
"No! Ted!"
Before either could unleash a string of unpleasant words the apartment phone rang. Ted plucked it from across the table without saying anything first to Robin, hoping to avoid further argument.
"Hello?" he answered. Robin watched as his eyes light up, "Lily? Lily, whoa, wait a second slow down!" Robin froze, recognizing the panic in Lily carried via phone line through Ted, "What?!" he gasped, his tone became frantic, "What happened…no…of course…holy crap, is he?... Robin is here. Where are you? Lily… Lily, where are you? Okay. Okay… Just Calm down Lily we'll be right over, alright?... I promise, you just hang in there okay?... We'll be right there, Lily!" a brief pause, "we'll see you soon."
"What the Hell happened?" Robin asked after Ted ended the call. All the tension created by their previous conversation had dissolved. The color had drained from Ted's face and his fingers trembled as he returned the phone to its charger. The journalist could feel her own fear rising via lump in her throat.
"Marshall is…"
Earlier that very morning—long before Ted Mosby ventured home from work and right after Robin Scherbatsky realized she had fallen asleep at her dining room table and was now late for work—Barney Stinson directed his cab driver to pull over. The smoky cab was stifling, and Barney found himself much preferring the cold air to the movable yellow box. He needed to clear his mind, and that wasn't going to happen in the back of a cab that smelled like somebody fornicated in it. Actually, for all Barney could recall he might have been the one to use the backseat for extracurricular activities.
The womanizer paid the cabbie what he owed and stepped out into the deceiving sunlight. From indoors the day looked bright and warm—if you ignored the semi naked trees—but the cold wind disproved any theories of warm weather on the rise though. Stuffing his hands into his suit pockets Barney stepped one foot in front of the other, determined to walk the remaining short distance to his office.
He inhaled deeply. A lung full of fresh air should chase away the nagging thoughts jumbled in his brain. Instead all he absorbed was car exhaust, causing Barney to choke a little. That certainly didn't improve his mood. His mind was still cloudy, jammed so full of memories and equations and images and random thoughts that he couldn't tell one idea from another anymore.
The blonde one wouldn't dwell on anything for too long though, as he continued his journey. He'd only gotten a few more steps before the toe of his shoe accidently kicked an abandoned soda can and sent it skittering down the busy sidewalk. No one noticed. Nor was anyone noticing the immense pile of trash overflowing from the nearest bin. Newspapers, hamburger wrappers, broken bottles, chewing gum, tissues, napkins, an half eaten hot dogs all surrounded the overwhelmed can. Not that anybody cared.
Penny would have…, Billy reminded him.
Damn it! Did all things lead back to Penny?
Barney passed a Laundromat further down the street. It took all his self restraint to keep from staring longingly at the happy couple sorting colored sock from white socks in the window. Penny had mostly colored socks. She liked brightly colored things. Barney could feel the weight of her memory pressing down upon his shoulders, anchoring him in melancholy.
"Stop it," he scolded himself. No time for any of that nonsense.
"Shit!" Stinson overheard a woman curse from inside the Laundromat. She fumbled through her purse, frantically searching for an item she probably wouldn't be able to find, "shit, shit, shit," he watched her sigh then lift her head, "does anybody have a quarter?" she called to her…
Fellow laundry people?
Barney ground his teeth, "shut up…"
"Anybody?" she asked again, "please, my clothes are wet and I don't have any change…" every other occupant of the Laundromat skillfully ignored her, not willing to share their precious coins. All glances were averted from the poor girl, reminding her that this was New York, and she was most certainly on her own. Barney kept moving.
Something tugged at the expensive fabric of Barney's pant leg.
"Please spare some change, sir?" asked an elderly, dirty, unshaven man in worn clothes littered with holes. In the man's withered had was a Styrofoam cup, "Spare some change?" he asked again, more politely then Barney had expected. Without a word the man in the suit ignored the homeless beggar huddled on the sidewalk and walked on. Why should he care anymore than the rest of ignorant humanity? He was evil.
Penny would be ashamed…
Penny. He couldn't unglue his thoughts from Penny. For a moment Barney closed his eyes, remembering the warmth of her finger tips as she gently laid upon his cheek. He remembered how gravity seemed to draw the pair together that afternoon. How she leaned just the slightest bit closer to him, her emerald eyes locked on his baby blues, and how he followed suit… until Captain Hammer ruined it. Barney growled internally at the thought of the `Captain`. He could feel the anger rising in him. Captain Hammer didn't deserve Penny. He was such a jerk and a pig and never appreciated Penny for the truly stunningly awesome woman that she was! She was so beautiful, so perfect…and then Captain Hammer…Dr. Horrible had warned him not to touch the Death Ray…but that bastard…he ruined everything…Penny.
Was your fault, his `conscience` said bitterly, if you hadn't gotten so carried away that night. If you hadn't gotten so carried away period. If you hadn't been so determined to go against your own morals to be accepted by the League. You killed her…, Barney clenched his hands into fists, passionately hating himself and his inability to control his own demented mind, I killed her…
"Will you lend a caring hand?" Barney's eyes fluttered open upon hearing that soft, familiar voice, "To shelter those who need it?" He blinked several times. He was having trouble comprehending the vision shimmering in the sunlight only feet away from him. Penny. Penny was right there, singing as her eyes sparkled and her auburn hair gently danced in the breeze, carrying her scent with it.
"Will you help?" she asked passerbies kindly. He voice is graceful, innocent, elegant, perfect. Barney inhaled, desperate to draw her perfume into his lungs. It drew her attention. She turned her bright and smiling features to him, hand outstretched and holding some sort of petition. Just like the first time they spoke. Barney gulped. This was Penny. Beautiful, Beautiful Penny.
The lovely woman's smile faded the moment her eyes met his. Penny's breath hitched in her throat for moment as her eyes lost their sparkles and grew troubled, "Billy?"