Author's Note: Thanks for everyone who reviewed the last chapter...glad you are liking the story, since it is somewhat of a more extreme AU...
As promised, here's the next chapter! Reviews are love! :)

Oh, and I warn there is like a tiny bit of rougher than usual language in this one... I try to keep things as close to the canon series as much as possible, so generally will hesitate to include anything outside of the show's PG friendly language... however, the part didn't seem realistic with that kind of censoring.

Thursday Afternoons

The long and winding road that leads to your door,
Will never disappear, I've seen that road before
It always leads me here, leads me to your door.

Beatles, The Long and Winding Road

Barney dreaded Thursday afternoons. Thursday afternoons meant therapy, and that meant being asked many difficult questions, and he didn't know how to answer those difficult questions. He tried, he tried really hard, but his mind felt stuffy, and no amount of head shaking helped. Today was a little different though. Today they made Robin sit outside for one thing, and he didn't want Robin to sit outside. He didn't want to be alone with the psychologist. Sure, Amy seemed nice, but then she would get out those dreaded dolls and make him pretend they were James and Mommy and himself and his friends... and other than making him miss James a lot lot lot, they didn't help much. Or she would make him draw, and he didn't mind drawing, but he was getting tired of drawing pictures of stuff he liked, and worse, stuff he didn't like, for Amy... they always ended up looking the same anyway, and they always made him cry. He didn't know why they always ended like they did, with the big black marker and scribbles and Ry-...

Plus, there was also that bad dark bit... he didn't like the big bad dark bit, the bit inside that felt scary and he knew hurt. And yet, Amy kept asking questions, poking and prodding with her dolls and stories and drawings and he felt the scary dark bit getting bigger, and he didn't want to know the scary dark bit, he didn't. He wanted Robin, and Lily, and Ted and Marshall, and James, and Mommy... but he didn't want to think of the scary dark bit, because... just because. So he hated Thursdays, and therapy, and the taxi that drove them to therapy. And he hated not having his stormtrooper. He wanted his stormtrooper, he had begged and everything, but Lily had said no stormtrooper at therapy. And Barney really, really hated that. But he didn't like today more, because today was Thursday and he was now in therapy with Amy, and Robin had to sit outside, and Amy was telling him to relax and waving some shiny thing in front of his eyes, and he felt sleepy, and he didn't want to sleep, he wanted Robin to come in and take him home, but the shiny thing was shiny, and moving side to side, and his eyes were following, and he was sleepy, and he didn't want to think anything anymore, he didn't want to follow the shiny thing, but he was sleepy, and the bad dark bit was getting bigger and bigger...

"Go for Barney."

Barney frowned at the silence on the other end of the line. This had better not be a prank call, and the person on the other end had better be a hot bimbo. He was supposed to be on hold for an important call from the President of France.

"Barney Stinson?"

The voice was deep, edgy... and a coldness seemed to creep right into his bones. Drats, it wasn't a hot bimbo, he told himself, easing the tension that had settled mentally.

"The one and awesomest. And you are?" he announced into the phone, doing his best to cover any weakness with bravado.

"I see you don't remember... we go back a long way Barney."

"No, I certainly do not," he bounced back. He was getting impatient, a hot brunette had just slinked into the bar, and already he could see at least five other men eyeing her. Vultures, simply vultures. "Look mister, it was wonderful chatting, maybe we can catch up sometime, but now I have some important international business to attend to and-"

"How's your Mommy? And young Jamesy?" the voice interrupted, making Barney shiver, hairs standing up on the back of his neck. It wasn't so much what had been said, if whoever it was did go "back a long way" with him as he said, as they would probably know his Mom and James, but it was the tone. Malicious, almost threatening, and Barney began to understand this was no friendly call for a long time catch up.

"What is it that you want?" he asked, taking care to keep his voice low. If this was a ransom for money, the last thing he needed was anyone in the bar over-hearing.

"Now, now," the voice answered him, condescendingly, "that's no way to talk to your father."

Barney's heart skipped a beat. Father?

"W... Who are you?" This time he couldn't hold back the stammer. The voice at the other end laughed coldly.

"Forgotten already Barney," he tutted. "We would've been happy together, me, Loretta, James... but you had to ruin everything didn't you, you little bastard?"

Barney heart seemed to thud to a stop, the world blurring around him. The voice... the insulting name... he couldn't remember exactly, but he felt... afraid.

"You're not my father," he managed to force out.

More laughter, teasing, taunting.

"Well, depends how you look at it, Barney. Now, how about we meet up, have a friendly chat, catch up a bit with your old man. What do you say, boy?"

Barney frowned at the sudden change of tone. "And what makes you think I would want to catch up?" He would've jeered further, told him how precious his awesome time was, how there were hot chicks to bang, and North Koreans to conference with, but somehow, this time, his instincts held him back, and he bit down on his tongue.

"Well... for one thing, it would keep Mommy safe."

Barney swallowed hard.

"Last time I saw Loretta... was, what... thirty years ago. She was sure a firecracker back then... wonder what she's like in bed now... hmm..."

"Stay away from her." It was Barney's turn to be threatening.

"Well then, you better come, boy. Otherwise I'm going to find Mommy, and I'm going to tie her down, and f-"

"Stop. I'll come." Barney could feel the every beat of his heart battering against his rib cage. Police, Security, Mafia, Altrucell... the thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind.

"Good," his voice broke through Barney's reverie. "And don't you even think about calling anyone. I know all about you Barney, and your connections. I also know how much your friends and family mean to you. You see Barney, I have my own connections too. So let's just say Barney's little friends may find themselves in certain "accidents" should anything happen to me. You understanding me here?"

"Yes. There won't be anyone else," Barney answered, stilling his plans. "How much do you want? I may need some time to prepare." Money, it was always about the money. The chuckle on the other end caught at him a bit.

"I'll let you know when you get here." He gave Barney the address, all the way down in the Bronx. "Remember, no funny stuff, or Ted Mosby won't even know what hit him."

The world seemed to have gone silent, Barney not even realizing the connection had dropped, he was so lost in his own thoughts. It was Ted's voice that interrupted him and shook him awake.

"What's up?" His friend was smiling, ready for some joke, ready for him to be Barney, center of attention and life of the party.

"N...Nothing." He cursed himself at the shake in his voice, the caller's threats still fresh in his mind. Clearing his throat and straightening to avoid suspicion from his friend, he quickly reminded himself to be normal. "Important international business. Anyhow, gotta go amigos," he bid farewell, swiftly making his exit before Ted could ask any more questions.

He gingerly stepped out of the taxi, having re-checked the address with the driver. The street was actually a hidden alleyway, completely deserted. Barney shivered, eyes shifting, mentally attempting to map out any and every escape route possible, but finding none. The place was a dead end, one way in and walls on every side. A small street light filtered through one of the windows higher up, the only sign of illumination. He hesitated when the taxi rolled away, the driver speeding off, eager to leave. But he knew he had to do this. So he did his best to psych himself up, put on his awesome suit and confidently walked deeper into the alleyway.

"You came." The voice sounded from the corner, almost causing Barney to jump. Turning, he saw the figure step out from the shadows, tall, dark, and although aged, still very much in shape, bulking arms firm. Barney gulped down a breath of air to calm himself. He knew this man. He didn't know how he knew this man, but he did. Ryan. The man, his name was Ryan. His mind subconsciously winced, his stomach grinding, heart fluttering rapidly. He recognized fear flowing through his veins.

"How much do you need?" Barney wasted no time in getting to the point. He wanted this sorted, he wanted a guarantee that his family and friends would be safe, and then he wanted to get the hell out of here and drown down some scotch at the bar.

"Little Barney Stinson... well, you certainly made something of yourself. Who would've thought? You, little bastard child, all dressed up in fancy suits and pricey ties."

"Ryan," Barney acknowledged, inwardly victorious at the split second of surprise he saw on the man's expressions at the name drop. "How much?" he asked again, eager to get things over with.

"So you do remember me," Ryan chuckled sinisterly. "No need to rush baby Barnaby. No time for your old friend? After all, it has been a while since the last time we met... Say...I don't quite remember the details, maybe you'd like to fill me in?"

Barney shook his head, words failing him for the moment.

"Hmm... so you don't really remember... I figured as much." He sneered, and Barney found himself unconsciously taking a step back.

"How much?" he reiterated, using almost all he had to hold back his instincts, which were demanding that he run, run as fast as he could. Ryan snorted in reply.

"You still think it's about the money, don't you?"

Barney's heart did a double leap. "If... If it's not money, then what do you want?" He silently cursed himself for the falter. Barney gasped as he felt Ryan's rough hands grab him, pushing him against the wall. He struggled when he felt the strong grip against his windpipe, choking him. Weak. Powerless. A scream of surprise erupted from his throat when Ryan's hand contacted with his cheek, sharp pain reverting to the back of his head.

He then felt Ryan's breath tickle his ear, intruding, and he shivered.

"I spent twenty years in prison because of you... twenty fucking years. How much do you think it's gonna take to pay that back?"

Barney tried to pull away again, but only managed to anger the larger man, the grip pressing tighter down on his throat until he felt like he was drowning.

"Well," he struggled to retort, heaving a breath when Ryan loosened his grip slightly, "you must've..." he struggled, mind whirling for survival. "Help, Cop!" he suddenly hollered, flashing his eyes out toward the street. Grinning at his victory when Ryan actually fell for it and loosened his grip to turn, Barney quickly edged a well aimed kick into the larger man's shins before taking off. He raced down the street, eyeing the deserted area for a cab, cursing when he found none. He could hear Ryan behind him, the man surprisingly fast for someone so large. Giving up on the cab, he quickly turned a corner and slipped into a nearby alleyway, ducking behind some garbage, using all his willpower to suppress his own rapid breathing. He could get out of this, whatever this was. It wasn't that he hadn't faced even worse threats before – he didn't gain his paycheck at Altrucell for nothing. Still… something about Ryan was different. Before him, Barney felt... so panicked and so utterly powerless and... and small. And he had no idea why. Tensing when he heard footsteps nearby, Barney clenched his jaw in anticipation, heart thumping so loudly he could hear every beat.

Step by step... closer and closer.

Suddenly, the sound withdrew and raced away, and Barney slumped down in relief, not caring that grime was rubbing onto his Armani suit, or that he was sitting on the germ infested ground. Thanking God for having dodged a dangerous situation once more, he quickly pulled out his phone, fingers hesitating slightly before dialing his brother's number. It seemed to last forever before he connected through, the ring on the other end almost music to his ears.

"Get a grip on yourself Barney, this is nothing, you'll sort it out with James and everything will be fine. You're awesome... be awesome," he whispered to himself as the phone rang, though still silently praying "please pick up, please pick up...".

"Hello, you've reach James Stinson, I'm awesomely busy right now so-"

Barney's heart dropped. James had mentioned something about traveling to Europe with Tom and Eli. The tone sounded signaling for him to leave a message.

"J-James..." Barney cleared his throat to knock the stutter from his voice. "Ryan. Some guy named Ryan says he knew you and Mom when we were little... and... and he said I made him go to prison or something... I just… I… please just call me back when you can okay?"

He ended the call, sorting through his mind to try and remember when James had told him he was returning. Shaking his head at a loss, and having calmed somewhat, Barney quickly scanned the area before standing up, brushing his clothes off. Carefully, he took a step out onto the street, eyes glancing at every corner. People, he needed to go somewhere with people... MacLaren's.

Barney sighed in relief when he finally stepped out before the bar. He had hailed a cab after walking a block, the driver showing slight displeasure at his ruffled appearance but allowed him in once he showed him his wallet and promised a large tip. On the way there, Barney mind had been devoid of all thought except to find his friends. He had to warn them, maybe send them overseas, but more selfishly, he wanted to be with them so he wasn't alone, so he was safe. At the door, Barney paused, finally noticing his own disheveled appearance reflected in the bar window. Should he start fishing for a dramatic story? Or did this warrant the truth? He knew he had to warn them somehow, but he could see the group chatting and laughing in their usual booth, and was hesitant to destroy the mood. Seeing Marshall stand up and dramatically bow whilst the others laughed around him confirmed his decision.

"Monkey... mugged by a monkey," he told himself, reaching for the door handle.

"Thought you got away so easily huh?"

Arms tightened from behind him, an insistent poke in his lower back silenced him.

"Let go of the door."

He could only obey. He took one final glance at his friends through the window; Ted getting up to go to the bar, Robin glancing up and scanning the room, Marshall and Lily waving Wendy over to their booth.

A sharp pain.

Darkness.

Robin sighed, closing a year old copy of Vogue and fishing out her mobile to check the time once again. Usually she was allowed to sit in the corner during Barney's sessions at the psychologist's, sometimes even being called in to provide support, but today she had been ordered to sit outside and wait, and that didn't hold well for her impatient nature. Plus, his sessions were usually around an hour, but it had already been two hours, and there were still no signs of them being done. Hesitantly, she wondered if anything was wrong, and tried to run her mind through what could possibly happen at a psychologist's office.

"Relax," she told herself, "it's not as if his mind could be any more damaged than it is now," she thought bitterly, throwing the magazine back onto the stack and reminding herself to bring a book next time.

"Or an iPhone... should've taken Barney's iPhone," she muttered to herself again, wondering if her self-talking would be assessed as insanity by the psychologists here. Truth was, she hated these offices, seeing the patients file in and out, some depressed, some manic, and some just downright crazy. And she hated herself for being so judgmental about it too.

"Barney needs this," she told herself now, and no, her friend wasn't any of the above, but he just needed a little help right now to work through whatever it was that had happened to him.

The door opened and Robin looked up, breathing a sigh of relief to see Amy, with a silent and solemn Barney following behind her.

"Hey," she greeted him, smiling. "Ready to go?"

He didn't respond, continuing to stare down at the ground. She gazed questioningly at Amy.

"We tried hypnotherapy today, and he took a while coming back. It seems like he may have remembered something about what happened, but he's not talking, so we can't be sure. Keep an eye on him for the next few days, and if he's having any bad reactions, panic attacks or anything like that, then let us know. That can sometimes happen when we do start pulling memories out like this. Otherwise, I'll see you next week," Amy told her, gently patting Barney on the back. "Take care okay, Barney?"

"Barney?" she insisted, when he didn't respond. Taking his face into her hand, she gently shook him until he looked up at her. "See you next week, okay?"

He nodded, looking to the ground again when she let go and left them.

"Hey Barn," Robin smiled at him, grasping his elbow and moving to study him face to face. "Ready to go?" she asked. "I was thinking of Tacos, you want those?"

Barney suddenly looked up from the ground, locking his eyes onto hers, a clarity and intensity that made her gasp. It was Barney looking right into her... not the one whose mind had been damaged and regressed, but actual Barney. Her friend, Barney. Just as sudden, the look disappeared, and he looked back down at the ground again.

"I want to go home," he whimpered. She nodded, mind racing, but somehow, recovering. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she gently led him out to the elevator.

"I hate Thursdays," he told her, and she agreed.