5. "You give love a bad name" Bon Jovi

At first she'd though it was kind of funny; the way he'd avoid her gaze and deliberately ignore her. She'd listen to him talk so animatedly and wonder if he was always this over-the-top or if he'd taken it up a notch.

At first she'd tried to convince herself that Barney had been joking. It was the sort of thing he'd do - wasn't it? They'd always played games with each other. But it had always been good natured and she'd always known his boundaries. She'd always trusted him.

Nope, that wasn't true.

Robin caught herself watching Barney Stinson talking, his grin so sharp and hard-edged that she was surprised he didn't cut himself. She'd glimpsed what was beneath the surface and she'd liked it. A big, flashing neon sign of wrong was there, trying to get her attention, but still she'd liked it.

Well, she hadn't particularly liked the bruises, but she'd gone back to him hadn't she? The rematch?

She'd used to be able to read him so easily.

From the other side of the table, he seemed so remote, so distant. So many, many times she'd sat beside him, jammed close so that she could feel the soft material of his suit brushing against her arm, making the fine hairs stand on edge. She'd wriggle closer, her hip pressing against his, perhaps allowing her knee to knock into his. This was the game they played. It was harmless.

Robin tried to tell herself that he was just messing with her head.

When Ted took over the conversation, Robin took a gulp of wine. Beneath the table, she lifted her foot out of her shoe and raised it slightly so that she could run it down Barney's leg, her toe pressing gently against his calf muscle.

He didn't exactly flinch, but she could see his jaw working. She smiled at him, hopefully, and when he met her gaze she couldn't help but recoil.

His eyes were full of hate.

6. "Senses working overtime" XTC

Why wouldn't she leave him alone?

Barney had escaped to the bar in order to get away from her and drown himself in gin. He couldn't face scotch. It was too deeply connected to her, and happier times.

She stood behind him and touched his elbow. He didn't have to turn around to know it was her. He knew her perfume, the sound of her breathing, even the way the air changed when she was near him. He knew every nuance of her face; could predict exactly what expression she'd be wearing right then, the little crease between those bright, alert eyes as she frowned at him, disapprovingly. He felt his shoulders tighten.

How long could he keep doing this before he snapped?

"Come on, Barney, don't sulk," She said and laughed nervously.

No "I'm sorry". No "I can see you're hurting". No "I love you too".

Why had he ever expected her to care? He'd seen what she'd done to Ted. Why did he think it would be different with him?

He loved her so much that he hated her. He hated her so much that he vibrated with it.

"Leave me alone," He managed, the words coming out as a mumble. His control was slipping.

"This is so stupid!" She replied, laughing. "You love me?"

He felt his cheeks redden. Was she on a specific mission to humiliate him?

"Robin. Go away." He breathed, his tone low; dangerous.

"Barney, sex isn't love. You of all people should know that!"

He turned towards her, eyes pricking with unwanted tears. "Go. Away."

She half-grinned, oblivious, not knowing or not caring how much she was killing him and, oh god, he wanted her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her and never, ever let her leave him. Why couldn't she see? Why couldn't she read him?

She moved towards him, one hand on his hip, pinching him so that he let out a choked half-sob. It loosened something inside of him.

"Have I hurt your feelings?" She said, jokingly. It was like a physical blow. Still reeling, he had no more defences as her hand slid up his side, under his suit-jacket, fingers working through the cotton of his shirt and kneading the muscle beneath. He let out a low growl as she pressed her body against him, her breath warm on his neck.

It felt like every nerve was exposed and she was playing him so expertly that he had absolutely no volition. He wanted so much to push her away.

But self-control had never been his strong point.

7. "Just what I needed" The Cars

Okay, so he was acting really weird in the cab. Well, a bit more weird, perhaps, than she was actually expecting. But the way he'd kissed her, silencing her, grabbing her wrists and pushing them gently behind her back - oh Jesus, it shouldn't feel that good.

Robin was actually grinning when they got his apartment. Whatever weirdness was going on in Barney's head, she was possibly in for the best lay yet. Afterwards, they probably really needed to talk but right then she could tell he was as eager as she was.

However, once inside his apartment, he let her go, and there was something in his eyes so lost and hopeless that she was sure he'd changed his mind. Even though she could feel him getting hard as she pressed her body against him, there was a second when she wondered if she'd misjudged him.

But then he kissed her again, both hands cupping her face, kissed her so deeply and tenderly, that the memory of him standing outside her work in the pouring rain, telling her he loved her, that memory came back to her in startling, vivid clarity.

Robin felt wildly exposed, dizzy, as if she were standing on a precipice about to jump. It was deep and dark and scary and she didn't want anything to do with it. She tensed up.

He must have felt it because the kiss got rougher, more demanding - a kiss taken, not asked for.

Yeah, this was what she needed.

8. "Bliss" Muse

Everything was fractured.

His brain seemed to spark and fizzle, his thoughts veering wildly inside his head.

He was dimly aware of her, solid, struggling against him.

Oh so sweet…

She had to stay. She had to see.

She tasted so sweet…

Robin, oh god, don't move. She tried to pull away and his hands lost their grip on her face, fingers scrabbling for her neck to stop her, prevent her-

She was struggling, gasping; it all sounded wrong and felt wrong but he hung on for dear life and squeezed. The rhythm of his heartbeat sounded very loud, like he was under water, each breath too heavy and reverberating like a dirty phone call on an old telephone line.

Dimly, he felt pain in his arm. Her fingernails had pierced his skin.

His fingers tightened, claw-like and desperate. She couldn't leave. She had to see.

He started to speak - tear-filled, mumbled words that made no sense but were pleas, tumbling from his lips even as he could taste hot salt which he could not swallow.

She was limp in his arms and still he squeezed.

9. "The Jub-Jub bird" The Bluetones

He awoke to find her body cold beside him.

Jerking away from her, as if stung, Barney blinked until the outline of her swam into focus. He cradled his splitting head and breathed jerkily although there were no more tears inside him. The memory nudged him until he couldn't ignore it.

She was naked. He reached out as if to check that she was real.

He couldn't say "What have I done?" He couldn't express any kind of false or misplaced guilt.

Robin's brown hair lay in soft, tangled swirls across the pillow. Her eyes were wide open and beautifully blank. With the curtains drawn, he could only dimly see the livid marks around her neck.

She wasn't going anywhere.

He let out a chuckle, tingled with hysteria.

Even though his head hurt and all he wanted to do was empty a bottle of scotch down his throat, Barney lay back down beside her and drew her lifeless body into his arms, warming her flesh with his own and wrapping the blanket tightly around both of them.

The horror of it all hovered at the very edges of his consciousness but could not intrude into the here and now.

Later, he would have to take responsibility for what he'd done. Right now, he would close his eyes and try and memorise every swell and dip, every texture, every taste, oh god…

He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Oh god…" He repeated, out loud.

10. "Satan rejected my soul" Morrissey

There were red and blue lights and when they dragged him out of bed it felt like he was just meat and bones with nothing inside.

Later, at the police station, the reality of the situation began to creep in.

Barney used his one phone call to ring Marshall.

When he did talk, he couldn't seem to make any sense. How could you make sense of something so senseless?

"I don't know why I did it!" He offered, desperately. No, he never tried to deny it, not with Marshall staring at him in horror. "I'm sorry," He repeated over and over until the word lost any meaning.

"Barney, why?" Marshall asked him, his voice cracking. Six foot four and he was shaking - a man-mountain reduced to blubber by this - by him and one, stupid moment.

No, that wasn't right. There had never been one moment. There had been a million moments in his life that all lined up to this one, inevitable conclusion.

Dashing the tears from his eyes, Barney shook his head helplessly. The world tilted, like a nightmare but far more horrific, more real.

"I strangled my best friend," He said, making a noise that wasn't a laugh, but the pure music of madness. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, his hands grabbing his shoulders like a bizarre parody of a straight-jacket. He kept saying the words over and over; over and over until Marshall walked around the table and sat next to him.

"I'm sorry."

And then there was no pain. Marshall receded. The world receded.

Marshall said something else but Barney didn't even blink; didn't even hear him.

With Robin gone there was nothing left. Barney Stinson let the world go.