I guess we all need help, yeah, I need help,
You can sit beside me when the world comes down,
If it doesn't matter then just turn around.
We don't need our bags and we can just leave town.
You can sit beside me when the world comes down.
We say, and we do
All the lies, the truth.
-All American Rejects, Mona Lisa (When The World Comes Down)
6.08- Natural History
She's missed this. Playing, being silly together, flirting a bit. A lot.
And now they've got caught, which she knows if one of Barney's top favourite things in the world. Alright, so it's caught dressing up and touching exhibits, not having sex- but still, any kind of caught is fun. The security guard's wittering on at them about mummies playing poker and dinosaurs from the crustaceous period, but they're not listening. Barney taps the lion on the desk, so Robin strokes its head. She can feel him look at her but doesn't return his glance, only watches out of the corner of her eye while Barney touches the stuffed animal, then she does the same.
Competing, smirking, trying to one-up each other but pretending not to be is undeniably hot and yeah, fine, okay- she still has a bit of a thing for him. A lot of a thing for him. And all this running around and being silly is undeniably a turn-on, and she knows that he feels it too, though they probably won't mention it and nothing'll come of it. Not unless they get a few more drinks down them, anyway.
"One time a kid knocked down the blue whale!"
Robin looks at Barney sharply.
"Wait, I'm sorry- did you say someone knocked down the blue whale?"
No way.
"Oh no, not just someone- a six-year-old,"
Robin glances at Barney in disbelief while the guard answers his phone. He smirks back smugly, all that I-told-you-so bravado which makes her want to bite his bottom lip until he whimpers. But she doesn't. Robin folds her arms, grinning in amused disbelief.
"And, um, would you happen to know what that young man's name was?" Barney asks lightly. Dammit, it's true. He wouldn't use that tone if it wasn't true. But she can't help but smile anyway. He really is totally nuts.
"No,"
But Robin's required to play her part, to argue against Barney for the sake of it, so she nods victoriously.
"But I could, ah, check the files,"
Barney reaches out to touch a pad of paper. "Yeah," says Robin, "Check the files," She turns to Barney, "I'm not buying anything until I see it written on paper,"
On the last two syllables, she taps the pad.
"Well, I've got nothing better to do," shrugs the guard, pocketing his keys and heading for the door, "Back in five,"
"Challenge accepted!" declares Barney when the door's shut. They both get up instantly and dash around the room messing it up. Robin swaps the butterfly pictures on the walls. Barney runs behind the desk, opens one of the small display cases full of insects, takes the bugs out and dots them around the room before returning the empty case to the wall. Robin grabs the sellotape and tapes up the cabinet draws. Barney goes to the computer and types in the addresses on a few porn websites, then minimizes them in a separate tab so that this guard won't realise, but the guard who comes in next will think that the current fella's been having a bit too much fun here on his own. When they hear footsteps in the corridor, Barney vaults back over the desk into his chair, and they both smile sweetly at the guard as he re-enters the room.
"Well, whaddaya know?" says the guard, taking his seat, "July 23rd 1981,"Robin's birthday, they both note mentally, "An indecent report,"
"No," says Robin, because that's how she and Barney play this game. You never tell the other that you know they're right. Right now if Barney told her the sky was blue she'd spend the rest of the evening arguing it was green, simply for the sake of disagreeing. Ted would call it childish, they'd call it having more fun than him.
"At approximately 10-00 hours-"
"No,"
Barney settles himself in his chair, one arm leaning on the back of it, and eyeballs her.
"Vandal dislodged rib for triceratops skeleton-"
"No,
"And flung said rib at giant whale,"
"Nnno,"
She can feel Barney's smug smirk, and tries not to look.
"Causing said whale to fall in a downward trajectory,"
"No,"
"And the vandal's name-"
Barney's eyebrows have jumped almost into his hair.
"No,"
"Well I'll be damned- Barney Stinson,"
"No!"
"Who's the master, Leroy!" Barney cheers, getting to his feet. His smile is so huge and this time it doesn't want to make her hurt him, it makes her want to laugh with him and draw him into a hug.
"Stinson was reprimanded and returned to the custody of his father, Jerome Whittaker," continues the security guard, reading from the file. The word 'father' catches Barney, although he's too pre-occupied gloating at Robin for it to sink in properly, "Err no, uncle. Jerome Whittaker's my uncle," he corrects nonchalantly, "Uncle Jerry,"
The security guard glances down again.
"It says father, he even signed it and checked the box for father and everything," he clarifies, passing the report to Barney. He skims it and yeah see, Jerome Whittaker's his- oh. Oh.
Oh.
There's a black tick inside the box marked Father.
"Jerry's my uncle," Barney repeats. He scoffs, passes the report back, sneaks a glance at Robin, and awkwardly scratches the back of his head. There's silence for a few painfully long moments, before Robin decides that she needs to be the one to break the silence.
"Well, thanks for the warning," she says, the brightness in her voice sounding forced, "Nice talking to you, but we'll be going," she stands up, but Barney doesn't.
"Barney. Barney,"
He jerks, and she wishes that this was simply one of his ordinary zoning-out moments which they all roll their eyes at.
"Let's leave,"
"Well, you two stay out of trouble. You're lucky I'm not prosecuting you for vandalism,"
"Barney, come on,"
She pulls his arm gently and he gets to his feet, dazed. In Barney's head, it's 1981 and he's standing in a dusty office- perhaps this very same office. He's not even close to four feet tall and he's all grazed elbows, torn jeans and unruly hair. Awkwardly, he's looking down at his shoes. Like a lot of his clothes they used to be James', and they're white with blue soles. They've got laces which he hasn't learnt to do up properly yet. All day Barney's been having to ask Jerry to tie them for him. The red Yankees sweater Nana bought him for Christmas is tied around his waist, and his right hand's in his pocket playing with the quarter in there. There's a scrape down his left arm where the whale caught him on its way down. Uncle Jerry's signing the form and the guard's glaring at them- but when they get outside Jerry winks, ruffles Barney's hair and lets him choose whatever he likes from the museum shop. Uncle Jerry, who had just signed himslef as Barney's father. Who had confirmed in indelible ink that he was the daddy who Mom had passed off as Bob Barker.
"Barney, listen to me. Let's go,"
Oh, right. 2010. Right, got it. Robin. Office. Touching a bunch of stuff. Jerome Whittaker. Father. Tick.
Barney lets Robin take his arm and lead him in silence to the bar.
"You want a drink?"
"Yeah," he breathes.
She smiles, deposits him at a table and goes to fetch them both a glass of that scotch which earlier they both agreed was so good. Even when facing the bar she tries to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything...well, God knows what Barney could do at this moment. They'd all be worried about him a couple of months ago during the Yourson debable- but then he'd had James and Loretta. Now, Robin thinks glumly, he's only got her.
"So, was the last time you saw him?" she asks haltingly when she's back at the table sitting beside him.
"It was that day," Barney recollects. He's wearing an open-mouthed, still, bewildered look which she's never seen on his face before, "July 23rd, 1981". Robin's birthday as it happens, but that's irrelevant. It was a Thursday- probably the first Thursday of the Summer holidays. It was sunny. He was with his dad. "My mom got pretty mad that he let me destroy a New York City landmark," he adds. He and Jerry had walked home together through Central Park together before facing her. Jerry had bought Barney and ice cream. Mint choc-chip. His dad bought him ice-cream. Then Barney realises something else- "He never came around anymore after that".
That was the last time he'd seen Jerry. His mom had…well, his mom had obviously realised how alike he and his father were, and stopped them become too bad an influence on each other. Barney flinches and explains in a mutter, "I think he moved away,".
But that's another of Mom's white lies. The truth is that Loretta had stopped him from seeing Jerry. The truth is that 'Uncle Jerry' was another lie. She'd let him believe his dad was Bob Barker even though his real father was around and came to their house and took him for days out. She'd let him live that lie his entire life. Barney takes a big gulp of his scotch, letting the burn last a long time. He's never been able to get angry at his Mom, and it's times like this that he wishes he could.
Robin has no idea what to say. Nothing ever touches Barney, normally. Even when they were dating and she'd seen a different side to him, he was always still Mr Invincible, and fear and panic and hurt bounced off. And so watching him murmur dazedly is disarming. (And it doesn't help that he looks so cute with squiggled eyebrows and those blue eyes wide and hurt. She shouldn't be thinking about that right now, but 'things Robin Scherbatsky shouldn't to' goes out the window where Barney's concerned).
"Well, maybe the security guy had it wrong," she suggests, forcing herself to talk, "I mean you never know-"Robin hopes this is some sort of consolation yet knows it isn't, so she's unsurprised when Barney cuts her off abruptly.
She can try to comfort him, Barney thinks darkly, but it won't work. He doesn't need to be mollycoddled any longer- what needs is the truth. He doesn't want Robin to lie and try to make him feel better, because she- of all people- should understand.
"But you do know, you do know, that's the thing, you know," he's not making sense but nothing makes sense any more. He isn't one for feelings but he can feel in his gut, in his lungs, that this is true. He knows it's true. Barney swallows and whispers- "He's my dad,"
It's disbelief he believes.
And there go his eyebrows again, Robin notes, and there goes that clench her heart does when Barney's being especially funny or silly or handsome or adorable. She ignores it- well, she always ignores it- but right now she has to, because she needs to be his friend.
"Barney, do you want to-"
"I don't wanna do anything," he interrupts, twitching his glance between her and his scotch. He keeps gesticulating with the hand holding his glass, and going to take a sip but then not. Over the year Robin's noticed that he does it often when he's talking, regardless of how he's feeling.
"Don't tell anyone about this, okay?"
The words rattle out in a staccato murmur. Perhaps he has to face the truth, but he doesn't have to face the man. And if nobody else finds out, maybe he can pretend this hasn't happened. Or at least pretend to the others if he can't pretend to himself.
Quietly, Robin agrees, "Okay,"
There doesn't seem like anything more to say, so she reaches across the table to link her finger with Barney's; holding his hand like his father never did.
Barney's head is spinning. His father is a real person who he's met and he knew. Uncle Jerry is his dad. Uncle Jerry was tall and had long hair and worked with bands. He'd met the Rolling Stones, and Prince, and Tom Petty! He'd taken Barney to meet ZZ Top! That was his father. Okay, so Barney's dad isn't Bob Barker, but Uncle Jerry's awesome! If Barney had to choose one of his 'Uncles'- Mom's friends mostly, some would only be around for a few weeks, some for longer. Some of them were friendly to him and James and took them for treats; some didn't have time for them- to be his biological father, Uncle Jerry might have been the one he'd chosen. Ah, Barney sighs, but Uncle Jerry didn't choose him.
"D'you want to dance?" he asks suddenly. It's Robin's turn to blink back in bewilderment. Why is he asking her to dance? Maybe if this hadn't happened, maybe if they hadn't been caught defiling exhibits, and were in their usual teasing and messing about mode- then maybe she'd understand him asking for a dance. But now, when he's found out who is father is? Really?
His steely blue eyes look at her hard. She has no idea why he wants to dance with her now- but she never really has any idea why Barney does most things. Nobody does. And right now, he has to come first.
"Sure,"
He dips his head, stands up and lets her lead him onto the dance floor. The song is slow and French and bluesy, probably not the sort of song you want to be dancing to with your ex-boyfriend, Robin reflects, especially an ex-boyfriend who your heart still clenches for. Who tonight you have at various points been flirting with, been teasing, been caught with, wanting to bite his lip, wanting to cuddle, been holding hands with and- scariest of all- wanting to hold tight and tell him that everything's alright.
Feeling Robin holding onto him makes Barney feel a lot better. One of her hands is across the top of his shoulder-blade; the other is at the nape of his neck, her fingers skimming his hair. He always liked it when she stroked his hair. Barney remembers a play he ran a few years ago when Marshall and Lily moved into their new apartment. He doesn't remember the details, but the line 'You make me feel so safe,' comes back to him. Barney's definitely unsure about how he feels towards Robin at the moment, but that line- a cliché bit of flim-flammery he used on some random girl- suddenly makes perfect sense. Her arms around him are grounding him, just when his world is crumbling into confusion. He has a Dad. He actually has a father. Not some guy on the TV or an exaggerated fantasy dad- an actual father. Perhaps there were clues when he was little some as to who Uncle Jerry really was, but Barney doesn't remember them. Six- year-olds don't notice things like that. But Uncle Jerry- his father- knew. That day right here in the museum- he knew. And he never said. If I had a kid, Barney thinks, If I ever found out I'd knocked someone up- and let's face it, that's pretty possible- I would be there for that kid. I would go school plays and birthday parties. I'd play soccer and watch cartoons. I'd be a real father. His own father had had those opportunities, and missed them. Knowingly. If Barney's dad was anything like he is, and had accidentally got his Mom pregnant after a hook-up, and he didn't know- maybe that would be alright. Because Barney can see that happening to himself, and it wouldn't be his fault if he didn't know. But Jerry had known, and he'd still left him. That truth is like a kick in the gut. His dad had left him by choice. His dad didn't want him. His dad chose to let him grow up without a father.
Most of Barney's friends have lame dads: Lily's dad's a gambling addict who forgets her birthday. Robin's dad has never forgiven her for not being his longed-for son. Ted can only talk to his dad about baseball. But although their dads had been lame, at least they'd had them. At least their's had stayed and cared for them- God, cared about them even. At least there fathers had shown up for them, because having a shit dad is still having a dad.
But you do have a dad, don't you? And his name's Loretta, Barney reminds himself. He'd believed that. Now he knows who is father is and he knows that he's a real person- a person who Barney had actually met and hung out with and been backstage at concerts with- maybe he feels differently. And he hates that.
Last weekend Barney had been over at James' place for dinner and to spoil Eli with presents. He'd noticed that and James and Tom carry Eli around by his ankles and toss him in the air and hold Eli upside-down while he giggles and shrieks. Loretta played and hugged and tickled Barney and James constantly, but she never hurled them in the air like that. Must be a dad thing- and Eli gets double the throwing-around, cos he's got two dads. Eli's daddies got him. They wanted a child and they had to jump through hoops and fill in forms and be inspected and all sort of things, because they wanted a kid so badly. Barney's dad never did that, because he never wanted him. God, he didn't even try- he let Mom tell Barney that he was his uncle, and then he bailed. Barney doesn't care anymore if Mom stopped them seeing each other- dads shouldn't do that to kids. It's Jerry's fault; Jerry didn't want him, Jerry chose to leave. James and Tom had to go through everything to get a child, and Mom did everything for Barney and James when they were kids. And Jerry could just walk away and leave him and not come back. Jerry didn't want him. Jerry didn't think he was worth it.
Jerry didn't care.
"Stay," Barney mumbles into Robin's hair. Please God, don't let anyone else leave him.
She glances up and his face is so many things- tired, confused, shocked, hurt, lonely, scared. Her heart tenses. God, this must be awful.
Robin presses her head Barney's chest and holds him even tighter in her arms. She wants this, and far more importantly, he needs this. She pretends not to notice the few tear droplets which dampen her hair.
"Always".