NOTE: I'm going out of town for a week for a wedding. Sorry to leave it where it is, but I'll try to work on it when I can, and will definitely jump back in when I get back.
Barney didn't want to tell Robin. He didn't want to tell anyone, but especially not her. But that wasn't going to be easy, especially with the bruises, which were like a beacon to her. The second she and Ted entered MacLaren's to see him sitting there with a purple eye and swollen lip, Robin was reduced to an awed teenager. It was the kind of attention Barney normally would have loved, if it hadn't been a reminder of his increasingly pathetic state. Now it just made him feel acutely embarrassed and a little ill.
"Woah, your eye," she practically cooed, scooting into the booth next to Barney, her hand reaching up to feel the bruise. He winced, his head snapping away from her, but not because it hurt. Not because it physically hurt, anyway. "What happened?"
Barney looked up at Marshall and Lily in the seat across from him, his eyes pleading for assistance. He could feel Ted staring at him in questioning anticipation, and he could feel Robin's breath on his face as she leaned into him. Marshall seemed to blank under pressure, as usual, and Lily scrambled to help. "He... he was hit by a piece of debris. From a construction site he was walking by. Crazy winds! Barney, you want to... tell them...that... story?" her voice kept getting higher and more uncertain as she went.
Barney just stared at her. "Wow," he said with a shake of his head, "You two really are worthless when it comes to making up cover stories. I'm guessing you never faked any illnesses as kids."
"I tried rabies once... Didn't really work," Marshall admitted.
"So wait, what really happened?" Ted asked, taking a seat at the end of the table. "That looks pretty bad."
Robin scoffed, "Bad ass maybe." Her eyebrows shot up expectantly as she grinned. "Did you get in a fight?" she asked, like a kid in the same situation might.
Barney glanced over at her, a flash of shame flitting over his expression before looking down at his beer. He ran a finger along the foggy condensation, tracing a zig-zag pattern in it. "Yeah, kind of." He didn't want to look at Ted, but couldn't help it. His curiosity to know what his friend thought, his need to have Ted's backing was too much, and Barney's eyes slid up. The expression on Ted's face was serious and contemplative as he stared at Barney. It didn't take a lot of imagination to conclude that Ted was probably feeling like this proved his point about Barney's current state. This time, Barney couldn't argue with him. He just dropped his eyes back to his drink.
Meanwhile, Robin missed Barney's mood entirely, too caught up in her own natural excitement over the idea of fights and maiming. "Oh my God, really?" she asked. "One that you didn't run away from? That's awesome!" She held out her fist for a bump, and Barney listlessly obliged.
Ted seemed much more concerned. "Barney, where were you the last couple days? We were worried about you."
"Ted," Robin cut in, "Obviously we didn't need to be worried. Apparently Barney can hold his own." She gave him a jovial slap on the back, but he didn't return her grin or enthusiasm. She might have noticed if not for the fact that Alistair appeared next to her just then, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.
"Hey," Alistair said, to Robin first but then with a wave at the others. He grabbed an extra chair and pulled it up between Robin and Ted. It was so casual, the way he just walked into the bar and took a place at their booth. Since when had that become okay? Since when did Alistair just have a place at the table? Barney tried not to glare. "What's going on?" Alistair asked, sensing he'd entered the middle of something, but apparently not having the good sense to know it was none of his business. Typical freaking psychiatrist.
"Barney got in a fight," Robin said with an appreciative nod. Alistair didn't look quite as happy about it, instead just eyeing Barney carefully, like he was sizing the other man up. Barney could tell that's what he was doing, and it frustrated him to no end. He was the one who was supposed to be sizing people up, finding their weaknesses to use against them. But having a shrink around? It was like being caught under glass and a microscope.
"Have you heard, you know," Marshall began, "Uh, heard from that guy I got you in touch with?"
Barney appreciated that Marshall was at least trying to be tactful about this, even though at this point Barney wanted very badly just to switch the subject. That didn't seem likely to happen, though, judging by the collective interest. Instead, he gave in, nodding. "Yeah, he looked over the files for me. Said he was pretty sure he could get it to probation and no jail time. I mean, the max for this would just be a couple months anyway, but dear God... a couple months in nothing but jumpsuits? I'll take lethal injection." Besides, as many times as he'd dodged the feds while working at GNB, going to jail over a fist fight would just be embarrassing.
Ted's expression had shifted from vaguely disappointed to truly concerned somewhere around the word 'jail'. "Woah, Barney," he said, "How was jail even a possibility?"
Keeping his eyes on his beer glass as though it were the most interesting pair of breasts he'd ever seen, Barney replied quietly, "The guy I got into a fight with was kind of a casino security guard."
"A security guard?" Robin asked, and just the sound of her damn voice forced Barney to look at her. She was no longer eyeing him longingly, which he supposed was helpful, but the look of amusement in her eye now was kind of worse. She snorted. "Okay, now that is just dumb, dude."
It would have stung more had Barney not already been in a state of utter disarray. He'd spent all day on Marshall and Lily's couch watching Home Improvement reruns, at their insistence. But he was still tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleeping. His awesomeness algorithm seemed to have completely broken down. So all the offense Barney could muster was muttering, "Thanks, Robin," in a frustrated but mostly resigned tone. Because she was right. It had been incredibly stupid. What else was new?
"Robin," Alistair said, his tone slightly discouraging. "Now's probably not the time for joking."
Everyone's eyes snapped to Alistair, the same flabbergasted look passing over all their faces. Barney for one was so confused his eyebrows threatened to sink into one another from all the furrowing. He realized after a moment that Marshall, Lily, and Ted were now all staring at him instead of Alistair. It was only then that it dawned on Barney that everyone at the table knew his feelings for Robin except Robin. But why the hell was Alistair defending him, then? Shouldn't he be pushing for Barney's Ass-Whooping: Round 2? A silence hung over the booth that was not so much awkward as it was utterly and completely baffled. No one seemed to know how to respond to Alistair seemingly sticking up for Barney.
Robin, however, was blissfully ignorant of the real reason everyone was so stunned. "Oh, come on guys," she insisted to the whole table, "You know I'm kidding. But this is what we do. A world where we can't make fun of Barney isn't a world I want to live in." She tried to sound wry, and she did, but it didn't have the desired impact on the others, who fell silent.
For his part, Barney was chewing on her words carefully. She needed this, he realized. They all did. The levity, the friendly ribbing. He suddenly felt guilty for being in such a depressed mood. It felt like dereliction of duty or something. But everyone was looking between him and Robin nervously, expecting some kind of anger or weird tension to increase between them. That was the last thing Barney wanted. He just wanted everyone to stop staring at him. Lily and Marshall with their pity, Ted with his morbid interest in what would happen, Alistair with... whatever it was that guy was trying to convey.
So Barney forced a chuckle and said, "Hey, I'm sure this'll be great material in about a week. Give me some time to throw a routine together. Maybe call up Jerry Seinfeld for some tips..." His attempt at making light of things sounded lame even to him.
Which, ironically, wound up being a better way of convincing Robin that something was seriously wrong than just putting it in words would. She frowned and said, "Wow, you really are off tonight, huh?" A beat, then, "Sorry, didn't realize how serious this was, I guess. Distracted by the bruises, because, come on." She didn't seem able to resist that little comment, and Barney could have sworn he saw her licking her lips a little.
He cleared his throat, sat up straighter, and even smiled. "Don't worry about it," he said, ostensibly to the group, though his eyes stayed on Robin 83% of the time, as usual. "I just need to learn to pick less visible places to throw down than in the lobby of a casino."
"Yeah, flashing neon lights? Not exactly inconspicuous." Robin replied with a grin.
Barney smiled a little, appreciating the way she could blissfully ignore the undercurrents. He didn't start out feeling like laughing about this at all, and it was a downer. Robin was the only one able to laugh at it because she was the only one who didn't know the truth. And, man, Barney was starting to get so antsy with all the pity-filled eyes on him- even Alistair's- that he really wished they were all as oblivious as Robin. Barney would normally be the one leading the charge out of sadness to awesomeness, but unfortunately he was the least capable of forgetting about the bigger picture here. "Right..." he said, sipping his beer. That was, sadly, the best he could do for lightness. He really was drained.
Alistair cleared his throat quite audibly and put a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Ah, are you ready to go to dinner?"
"Dinner?" Ted asked, his nose crinkling as he looked at the clock reading 10 pm. "Isn't it a little late for that?"
"Late? I got up early for this," Robin countered as she slid out of the booth.
Barney felt her presence departing from his side and couldn't say it didn't tug at his heart, watching her go. Even though it was a dull kind of tug now. Alistair slipped a hand around her waist just before they got to the door, and Barney almost let out a whimper. Instead, as soon as she was gone, he sank heavily down into the booth, as though relaxing from holding something heavy up for too long. "Shoot me now," he groaned miserably, sad eyes looking up at his three friends. He realized he'd never been candid about his feelings with all of them there. Not in 8 years of their tight-knit group. But he'd also never had his shields blown apart so thoroughly.
"Barney," Ted said, sitting forward and looking at his friend with concern, "Why didn't you tell me about this? I could have helped you out."
Barney moved only his eyes to look up at Ted, the rest of his body remaining slouched and defeated. "I didn't want you to be mad at me." He hoped he wouldn't be forced to draw him a picture, since reliving what Ted had told him a few days before in front of Marshall and Lily would only make things worse. "And it was their turn to come get me out of a jam in the middle of the night," he said, motioning to the couple.
"At least it didn't involve a sex swing this time," Lily said.
Ted seemed able to pick up on the real source of Barney's misery, and clammed up about it, thankfully. Barney took a deep breath as he pulled himself up by the edges of the table. "Marshall, can you do me a favor?" he asked, his tone slipping back into the serious one of earlier in the night.
"Of course," Marshall replied just as seriously, still dealing with Barney carefully, like he was made of glass and might shatter. Barney resented that a little. It was completely true.
"I have this lawsuit I wanted you to help me with. It's a," his eyes darted nervously to Ted's, "a sexual harassment thing. Against me."
Marshall and Lily exchanged glances, and Barney could tell that was a distinct again? look, even though they were smart enough not to say it out loud. Instead, Marshall cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "You know I want to help you, Barney, but I'm not sure if getting you off the hook for something like that is really the kind of thing I want to use my license for. Or that it would actually help you, in the long run." He sounded apologetic yet unwavering.
"No, I-" Barney had an urge to look at Ted, but didn't, fixing his gaze on Marshall instead. "I kind of wanted to settle it. Out of court."
Marshall blinked. "You really think you can't beat this one?"
Barney scoffed in his trademark way. "Oh, trust me, I could." He realized immediately that he sounded too proud of that, that his friends were all giving him slightly disgusted looks. His confident expression immediately faded. "No, it's that I... I don't really want to. Beat it." Out of the corner of his eye, Barney caught Ted's eyebrows leaping up. "I mean, I did the stuff she said I did. I'm not... proud of it." A little part of his brain was disgusted at himself for saying that. The part of him that was convinced hitting on hot chicks in foreign languages was always something to be proud of. The part of him that usually got those chicks to bang him. The part of him that wound up in drunken brawls and Jersey jail cells.
"I'm proud of you," Lily jumped in, causing Barney to look at her with surprise. "Not the harassment part, obviously," she added with a note of humor. Then, sincerely, "But fessing up. I know it's not easy, but it's a very mature thing to do." She squeezed his hand briefly and smiled encouragingly at him, a smile that was matched by Marshall's.
Barney felt a surge of affection towards Lily, the kind he imagined one might have towards a protective big sister. Even if Lily was both younger and much shorter than him. He hadn't worked up the nerve to talk to his real family about this, knowing how much it would upset them. It was nice having a substitute one instead. "Thanks, Lil," he said, his eyes showing how deeply he appreciated her support.
"Dude, I'm happy to help you with that. Absolutely," Marshall chimed in. "We'll make sure she doesn't take all your suits in the settlement." Barney's eyes widened in terror for a moment until Marshall jumped in, "Kidding! Okay, not something to joke about. I don't know how much she's seeking in damages or anything but if you settle it'll be a lot less. I'm happy to come by and look at the case files tomorrow."
"Thanks," Barney said, still feeling extremely embarrassed over the ordeal - the series of ordeals. But somehow, he also felt a little more free. It was a subtle shift, but a welcome one with all the pressure he'd been feeling tugging him down all evening. It probably also helped that Robin had left.
Marshall glanced at his watch, then at Lily. "Baby, I hate to say it, but it's almost past your bedtime. You don't want to fall asleep before nap time tomorrow."
Lily yawned. "Why did you have to bring up sleep? I wasn't tired." But clearly, that had quickly changed. She sighed. "Okay, you're right. We should go." Barney watched as the couple slid out of the booth, Marshall's hand settling comfortably on Lily's back. It looked so easy, the way they always showed affection. It was one of the many things Barney secretly admired about them.
"We'll talk tomorrow, Barney. Make sure to get some rest," Marshall admonished gently. "Absolutely no betting or drunkenness or fights."
"Don't worry, it didn't take much to cure me of any desire to get punched in the face," Barney said, moving his jaw around and wincing at the pain. He wondered idly if chicks who thought bruises were hot fully appreciated just how freaking much it hurt to get them. Looking between Marshall and Lily, he added "Seriously, I won't do that to you guys again."
"Don't do it to yourself again," Marshall corrected.
"Good night, Barney," Lily added gently, waving as they turned and headed for the door.
There was a long and not terribly comfortable silence as Barney avoided looking at Ted. In an odd way, Barney felt ashamed of admitting to doing something good. It was the reason he'd never wanted to admit to flying to San Francisco to get Lily or to sprinting across town to meet Ted in the hospital. It was so much easier to brag about disgusting and dubious activities. Something was clearly cross-wired in his brain, he realized. The fact that he was starting to realize that scared the hell out of him.
Ted seemed to recognize that Barney would go for hours without saying anything else about his mature, sensible deed, and finally spoke up. "Hey, I'm really glad you listened. About this harassment case and everything."
"You were right," Barney admitted freely. "I think after last night that became pretty clear to me. I mean, I went to Atlantic City because I was pissed off about the stuff you said to me. But I kind of wound up proving your point." He smiled in an extremely self-deprecating manner. "Maybe I should listen to you more often."
Ted drew in a breath, pausing to look down at his hands before eyeing Barney evenly and speaking deliberately. "I don't want you to take everything I said to heart."
Barney gave him a questioning look. "You meant what you said, though, right?" He knew it was true. "I mean, people tend to say what they really mean when they're angry, and I think that qualified as angry. And maybe it was a good thing you got to that point..."
"Look," Ted replied uneasily, carefully, "The sentiment behind what I was saying, that part I meant. But I meant it for your own good. I shouldn't have been such a jerk about it. I didn't mean to get so personal. To say some of the things I did..."
"Okay," Barney jumped in before Ted could say more. "I get what you mean, just please, don't say them again. Not even to apologize for them." He sounded as desperate as he felt. The wounds Ted had opened up were still gaping and not at all prepared to be salted.
Ted looked guilty as he nodded in agreement. "Don't worry, I won't. I just feel bad about pushing you towards this." He waved to Barney's bruises and overall less than awesome state of being. "I hate to see you so miserable, man. If there's anything I can do...?"
Barney shrugged listlessly. "Just... stop me if you see me starting to do something really stupid, okay? Drug me if you have to. Find a hot girl to flash me if it comes to that. I'll endure it." He couldn't resist a little wink, and Ted smiled at the familiarity of it, perhaps reassured that Barney wasn't completely depressed. Just resigned. "Anything to distract me, especially," Barney's voice became more earnest, "if it's around Robin. Like lighting her boyfriend on fire? Things like that."
Ted laughed a little. "I'll do my best. And if I'm not there and you even think you might need someone to talk you down, give me a call."
"Like use the Bat Signal?" Barney asked.
"I was thinking more like speed dial," Ted replied, "but you're right, Bat Signal is better."
"I'll get one. I know a guy." Barney was only half kidding about that. He relaxed a little, feeling the tension between him and Ted had eased. Barney sipped down the last dregs of his beer then prepared himself to get up. "Thanks for knocking some sense into me, bro," he said.
Ted still looked guilty, and like he wanted to add something. Barney even looked at him for a moment to give him a chance to speak up, but Ted looked conflicted, and said nothing. Whatever it was, he clearly wasn't sure enough of himself to vocalize it. Instead, he just said, "You heading out so early?"
"Yeah, man," Barney said, standing and shaking his limbs out a little. They felt tingly and heavy, not just from sitting in one place for a long time, but it was a good excuse. "I'm glad we had this talk. As weird as this whole night was... guess I couldn't hide forever." He couldn't run away from reality anymore, either. They'd both admitted that Ted had been right about the whole Robin thing. Barney could see that now. It meant the death of his confidence and of that hope he'd been hanging on to. It left him feeling hollow and drained, but maybe that was just how it had to be.
"Yeah," Ted said, not sounding entirely sure that he was happy about it. "Go get some rest. Be safe. Don't stress yourself out." Don't think about Robin, Barney might have heard him add telepathically. She was happy for once. He was a broken mess. Maybe it really was time to let go. To do something Barney Stinson never did- surrender.
Because he was done with fighting. With flailing. With stretching for something out of his reach.
"Good night, Ted," Barney said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Maybe now, he thought as he headed out into the brisk night, now he could go back to being himself.
*****
It was two hours later when a pounding on his door jolted Barney out of his restful state. He had been reclined on the couch, watching a Sci-Fi Channel original movie with his shoes, socks, belt, and jacket removed. Not in a state for late-night company, he realized, panicking a little as he sprang to his feet and turned the TV off before strolling casually to the door. He gave himself a beat to collect his suave confidence before opening the door to whatever desperate babe had dropped by.
His confidence evaporated like water in the Mohave when he saw who it was. "Robin," he said, trying not to sound flustered. He was past that, he reminded himself. (Why did he have to remind himself?) He'd given up. So instead, he would just be cool. "What are you-"
She shoved him backwards angrily, much to his surprise. It was only then that he realized her eyes were red and puffy. There were no visible tear-stains on her cheeks or anything, but of course she would have removed all the evidence she could. "What did you do?" she asked, her voice gravelly. He tried hard not to think that was a little sexy.
But he was more confused than anything. "What did I do about what?" There were so many things he'd done lately that people could be mad at him for. It was hard to decipher what she meant. Because she hadn't been the least bit troubled by his fight, quite the opposite. As he racked his brains to think of something else that would anger Robin enough to get her to actually come to his apartment in the middle of the night, she continued to fume.
"I just don't get it," she said vaguely. "I know that you never liked Alistair, thought he was messing up the group dynamic or something, but did you even think about how I felt Barney? That I was actually happy in this relationship?"
Something twisted inside him at the mention of Alistair. Something that was supposedly dead. And the twisting was dull, like sounds traveling through water, but it was still there. Still hurt. Barney's eyebrows knitted together. "Robin, I don't know what you're talking about, seriously. What happened?"
She let out a shuddering sigh and sank onto the couch, her fury seeming to give way to simple sadness and exhaustion. She looked up at Barney, and he couldn't help but notice how overtly miserable she was when she finally said, "Alistair broke up with me."
He should have danced. He should have done the Ickey Shuffle and maybe even the Worm right then and there. But he didn't. The weird thing was, he didn't even really feel like it. Because looking at Robin and seeing how much she was hurting, how could he possibly be happy about that? Any selfish satisfaction he might have gotten from this breakup was completely overridden by his sense of compassion for Robin. "I'm sorry," he said in a low, sincere tone.
That seemed to catch Robin off-guard and dissipated her anger even further. Sinking into the couch, she seemed more confused than anything. "I just don't get it. We went out to eat and it seemed like everything was going great, and then he just brought it up... this stuff about how he didn't think our relationship was good for either of us in the long run." She shook her head. "I have no idea what he's talking about." She laughed a little, wiping a hand across her face. "And why on earth am I crying? It's not like I was desperately in love with the guy. But I was just... happy."
Barney felt utterly immobilized, but somehow managed to get his legs to carry him over to the couch so he could sit a respectable distance away from her. "Hey," he said, not reaching out to touch her but wanting to. That would not lead his mind to any constructive places, or memories. "The guy is clearly an idiot. His brain has been fried by the Outback heat." She laughed a little. He paused, mostly because she looked at him and it made his whole being seize up. "But I'm a little confused about why you're here. Not that I don't want to listen, as a friend," he added quickly. "But isn't Ted like, 20 feet away from your room?"
That seemed to remind her of why she came over here, and a touch of the anger and confusion from when she'd first walked in the door resurfaced. She didn't shout, but she certainly had an edge to her voice that said she wasn't going to leave without an explanation. "I need to talk to you, not Ted."
"Why?" he asked tentatively, his heart threatening to leap out of his mouth and right onto the leather couch between them. Dammit, why was it that she couldn't leave the thing heavy and dead inside his chest? Wasn't it enough that it was dead? Why did she have to insist on having it removed postmortem so she could see for herself?
Robin looked at him steadily. "I'm hoping you can answer that, because I honestly don't know. When I tried to ask Alistair what he meant by the relationship being bad for us, he said it had to do with our 'group dynamic' or whatever. But he wouldn't explain it anymore."
She had her eyes fixed on him, like she was waiting to see any kind of reaction when she said, "So he told me to ask you."