Lily had some errands to run, and Marshall had to work, so the next morning Ted took Barney to his physical therapy appointment. Lily had scheduled it for him, choosing the only female name on the list of three his doctor had offered. They'd all assumed that, although Barney's attackers had been both a man and a woman, he'd still be likely to feel safer with a female therapist.

His consistently negative reaction anytime Marshall got close to him was evidence enough of that.

Still, it was obvious to Ted that the therapy session wasn't easy for Barney, regardless of the gender of the therapist. Jenny was very professional, very gentle, having been informed of the basics of Barney's case and made aware that he was deeply traumatized. She made sure to tell him what she was going to do before she did it, warning him when she going to touch him or move his wheelchair, doing her best to make sure he was prepared and informed every step of the way.

But she still had to touch him.

She had no choice but to help him to maneuver his body in ways that he wasn't quite able to do for himself yet; and the sense of powerlessness, of being at a stranger's mercy, was a little too similar to what Barney had felt during the nightmare of his recent ordeal. Ted could see that he was struggling, despite his outward calm.

Barney held up admirably given the circumstances. He cooperated with the therapist, and he somehow managed not to have another of the panic attacks he'd been having at home; and if Jenny ended the session a few minutes early because of the tell-tale signs that he might be on the verge of one, well -- none of them felt the need to point that out.

Ted pretended not to notice the way Barney would literally stop breathing for a moment whenever Jenny touched him, as well as the constant tremor that seemed to move through him for the duration of the therapy session -- and it seemed to help, a little. At least Barney managed to keep his emotions under control until the session was over and he and Ted made their way to the car.

Ted's fatal mistake was placing a gentle, supportive hand on Barney's shoulder and uttering six genuine, utterly sincere words of comfort that proved to be Barney's undoing.

"You did great in there, buddy."

Ted was stunned and horrified when Barney broke down completely, right there on the sidewalk, his shoulders quaking with sobs, one splinted hand rising awkwardly to cover his face as the tears he'd been holding back were ripped from him with violent sobs.

Ted hurried to help Barney into the passenger seat of the car and close the door, wanting to at least shield him from the curious glances of the people passing them on the street. He quickly folded the wheelchair and loaded it into the trunk before getting into the driver's seat and turning to face Barney, giving him his full attention.

Barney's breath came in sharp, ragged little hiccups as he struggled to control his tears, rolling his eyes in a vicious sneer at his own weakness and turning his head away in embarrassment.

"Hey." Ted kept his voice soft and neutral. "Hey, man, it's okay. It doesn't matter. You really held it together in there."

"Yeah," Barney gasped, still fighting to bring himself under control. The bitter contempt in his voice made Ted flinch to see how disgusted Barney was with himself for his reaction. "In there."

Ted was quiet for a moment, biting his lower lip in indecision. Finally, he reached out a cautious hand to rest on Barney's arm, encouraged when Barney did not flinch away from his touch. After a silent moment, Barney reluctantly looked up at him, a questioning expression in his glittering blue eyes.

"In there is the only place where you have to," Ted gently reminded him, holding his gaze.

At those words, Barney's face crumpled and the tears began to flow again, and Ted wasn't sure for a moment if he'd said just the right thing or the worst thing he could possibly have said. But then, Barney's shoulders sagged with relief, and he rested the side of his head against the headrest, his voice small and pitiful as he answered with genuine gratitude.

"Thanks, Ted."

"No problem, buddy."

"You're my best friend, Ted."

"I know."

*****************************

It was still a little embarrassing to feel like such a child all the time, his emotions constantly on the razor's edge of his control, ready to fall apart at the simple touch of his therapist's hand on his damaged legs, or at the compassionate reassurance of his best friend that he didn't have to keep his guard up around him.

Still, Barney was genuinely grateful for the safety and security he felt with Ted. From the time they'd met, they'd simply connected in a way that Barney couldn't remember ever connecting with anyone else. Though he tried not to let it show, because he was never one to allow himself to appear too vulnerable, Barney was dangerously dependent on Ted. Sometimes he wondered if Ted's friendship was too important to him, made him too weak; but there was one thing he was sure of in moments like these.

There was no one else on earth with whom he felt so safe.

"So... one more month and you can be rid of that chair, huh?" Ted repeated Jenny's words as he pulled the car out onto the highway.

"Yeah."

"And by then they'll be taking those splints off your hands, and you can start working on that, too."

"Uh-huh."

Barney began to feel vaguely suspicious, wondering where Ted thought he was going with his slightly awkward statements of obvious fact. Ted was quiet for a moment after that, but Barney soon realized that it was only because he was choosing just the right words to go in for the kill.

"Don't you think you ought to start working on the other stuff, too? You know. The emotional stuff?"

"I don't need to work on the emotional stuff," Barney insisted, a stubborn trace of a pout in his voice.

"Yeah. I can see that." Ted's tone was sarcastic, but gently so, and Barney found that he had no answer for the quiet point Ted made. "Come on, Barney. You really should let us schedule you an appointment with a therapist. The doctor recommended one..."

"What are you, Lily's double agent?" Barney retorted, accusation in his tone. "I thought we were bros, dude! You can't turn on me on this! Lily's manipulative enough without you helping her!"

"That's true," Ted conceded with a little grimace. "How do you think she got me to do this?" He was quiet for a moment, staring through the windshield as he added in the same calm, neutral tone, "But she's right, you know."

"Ted. Don't."

"You know you need to talk about what happened. You're still freaking out all the time, and you haven't even told us -- haven't even told me -- exactly what happened, Barney," Ted insisted, and Barney winced inwardly at the trace of hurt he heard in his voice, certain that Ted hadn't meant to allow it to show. "As long as you keep holding it in, you're never gonna get past it."

Barney was silent, torn between his absolute dread at the thought of talking to a stranger about what had been done to him -- and the undeniable knowledge that what Ted was saying was true.

"Barney..."

The hesitation in Ted's weighted tone set off alarm bells in Barney's mind, and his mouth went dry as his brow broke out in a cold sweat. His heart raced, and he suddenly knew by sheer instinct what Ted was going to say next.

"... what... what did happen...?"

"Don't." Barney's voice was a hoarse, desperate whisper, but it stopped Ted's words instantly. "Please."

Ted was quiet, and an awkward silence fell over the car as they finished the drive back to Marshall and Lily's apartment. Barney stared out the window, his face flaming with humiliation. Ted knew him better than anyone else did, and Barney was almost sure that his not-really-an-answer was all the answer Ted had needed to the unspoken question behind the half-spoken one he'd managed to get out.

Once he'd parked at the curb, Ted leaned back in his seat, letting out a heavy, shaky breath. Barney tensed, waiting for him to speak, dreading what he might have to say. After a long moment, Ted spoke without looking at Barney, his eyes still focused through the windshield in front of him.

"Whatever happened, Barney..." he stated softly, his words slow and carefully chosen. "... it wasn't your fault. You were hurt, and tied up, and they... there were two of them, and they were armed, and... and psychopaths. No matter what happened... you are not the one who should be ashamed."

The words made sense in Barney's head, but somehow, something was lost in the translation to the reality of what he felt. His throat closed up, and he couldn't speak, so he just nodded once in token acceptance of Ted's words, blinking rapidly against the fresh onslaught of tears they evoked.

Ted nodded in response, hesitating awkwardly for a moment before getting out of the car and opening the trunk.

*****************************

As Marshall parked his car outside MacLaren's that night, Lily let out an anxious sigh, glancing with wide, worried eyes toward Barney in the backseat.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Yeah," Barney insisted with a bright smile, nodding. "Of course. Guys, I'm going stir crazy in that lopsided apartment all day every day. Getting out and going to therapy today made me realize just how pathetic my life has been lately. I haven't been working, haven't been going out -- not at all. This is perfect."

"But Barney," Marshall interjected, agitated concern in his voice, "are you sure you're ready to just like... jump right back in...?"

"I have to eventually, don't I?" Barney pointed out, his tone still relentlessly cheerful. "I can't just sit around at home all day and think about the past. You guys are right. I need to do something about my problems. I need to move forward. And the best way to do that is just to... to get back to normal."

"Okay," Lily relented at last with a heavy sigh, opening her door to get out of the car. "If you think so..."

Ted was already sitting at their table when they walked in, and Robin was not there yet, but they knew she was on her way. Barney had mentally prepared himself for the stares, the whispers, the curious attention he knew he'd get coming back into MacLaren's. After all, he was a regular at a bar where most the customers were regulars. It only made sense that his absence would have been noticed, and that his return would be as well.

Strangely, the one thing Barney hadn't prepared himself for was the concerned, overly friendly welcome he received.

Several people he'd never even spoken to before made their way to the table to ask if he was all right, commenting that they hadn't seen him in a while, and had he been in an accident? He tried to come up with some explanation to offer for his wheelchair, but found that coming up with a convincing lie off the cuff was a little bit harder when surrounded by a group of people who already knew the truth.

He stammered over his words, struggling to come up with something, anything... and then Wendy approached the table with a platter of appetizers and drinks they hadn't offered, crouching beside his wheelchair and placing a sympathetic hand on his arm.

"Are you okay, Barney?" she asked.

She didn't seem to notice as he flinched away from her unwelcome, if well-intentioned, hand. He glanced past her toward the bar, where several people were staring in his direction with unabashed curiosity.

But... he didn't see them.

He saw the barstool where Allison had sat when he'd approached her to apologize, saw the place where he'd leaned against the bar and tried his best to impress her -- and Robin -- with the new leaf he was turning over. Though he knew it was irrational, a sense of terror seized him at the memory, and the fear that at any moment, she might walk into this bar again, might try to come after him and finish what she and Ryan had started.

Barney felt sick to his stomach, the familiar trembling beginning again as all the voices around him began to merge into one, the cacophony drowning out the panicked screaming in his own mind that he had to escape. He was surrounded, trapped, drowning in his own rising panic, and he just had to get away.

"Okay, everybody just back off!"

Lily's voice suddenly roared above the crowd, bringing them suddenly to silence as she held her hands up and stood between Barney and his well-meaning acquaintances. Barney's breath was short and uneven, and his head was bowed, his eyes closed, trying to shut out the overwhelming amount of input bombarding his senses.

Ted took one look at him and stood up, taking the handles of his wheelchair and pushing him back out of the bar and out into the cool night air. He positioned the wheelchair beside the stairs, in a sheltered corner, out of sight of most of the passersby around them, before crouching down and resting his hands on the armrests of the chair.

"You okay, Barney?" he asked softly. "Breathing a little better?"

Barney nodded, gasping for breath, struggling for control he'd nearly lost completely.

"It's okay. It was just a little too much, a little too soon. You'll be fine, and we can try again in a few days if you want..."

Barney shook his head, blinking back the tears in his eyes, lowering his face in despair.

"I can't... I can't do this," he whispered. "This is... this is our place... and... and I can't even... can't even..."

"I know, Barney," Ted cut him off gently, resting a supportive hand on his shoulder. "I know. You're gonna get past it, though. You're gonna be okay."

"Maybe not," Barney looked up at Ted at last with a stricken look of realization. "Ted," he whispered, hesitating before confessing words that filled his friend's face with overwhelming relief. "You... and Lily... you're... you're right. I need you to... to make that call in the morning, okay? I... I need help."