A/N; Thanks for last chapter's reviews, guys!

Ted slides into the seat with his cold beer, sighing. Marshall and Lily look at him expectantly.

'Okay, guys,' he starts. 'Now I'm really worried. Robin hasn't even called to leave a message. They've already been gone three days.'

Lily frowns. 'I still think they might have just run off together.'

'Yeah,' Marshall agrees. 'It's Barney and Robin. They're probably holed up in a hotel somewhere doing you-know-what.'

'Maybe they never broke up at all.'

Ted raises an eyebrow.

'What? It's possible. They've fooled us before.'

He shrugs. 'I don't know, Lily. I just don't think it's possible.'

'Why not?' Marshall asks, switching in what Ted can only call lawyer-mode. 'Maybe you haven't got it through all that hair product on you, but it's Barney and Robin. Those two have crazy chemistry. And they're crazy impulsive. I see the equal sign here.'

'It's just. . .Well, I swear, I haven't seen them even speak to each other since they broke up. Have you?'

'Now that you mention it? No.' Lily leans against Marshall, in thought. 'I never noticed.'

But Ted did. He had gone through it once; dating and breaking up with Robin. It was tough. His hardest break-up (okay, maybe third if Karen counts) behind the debacle with Stella and Tony. He knew how awkward it would be for awhile, and he was right. They made excuses not to be alone together, never made eye contact, never sat on the same side of the booth anymore, never said more than two words to each other.

It was so obvious: they missed each other. But he knows that they knew it was impossible, going back to what they had been.

'So, really, our theory that they ran away together can't be true,' Ted concludes, after his train of thought.

'Well, what else is there?' Marshall points out. 'They disappeared together, without warning. I checked Barney's apartment and it's clean. The last time I saw him was that night we all left the bar early.'

'Yes, and Robin stayed behind to finish her drink,' Lily adds. 'Her and Barney.'

Ted gulps his beer. 'Robin never came up.'

'I just don't think Barney would leave Robin alone for some girl,' Lily interjects stubbornly. 'I mean, maybe their relationship's changed, a lot. But he wouldn't leave her.'

Marshall nods. 'Definitely not.'

'Okay, so let's say they left together, then.' Ted pauses. 'I remember Robin saying something about meeting up with a friend. So Barney must have gone with her.'

'But I called her friend, and they never made it,' Lily tells them. They are quiet for awhile. Ted prides himself on his detecting skills but this is one hell of a puzzle.

'Do you think they're okay?' he asks, a thought occurring to him. Up until then, they had strayed from saying it out loud. The worry. 'They can't be lying in a ditch somewhere, right? I'm being paranoid. Maybe they are just fooling around. Right?'

He no longer sounds confident of it. A dozen scenarios run through his head, half of which he tries not to believe. It's Barney and Robin, he tells himself. They can take care of each other.

XXX

It's his turn to sleep.

'I'm fine,' he insists. 'You don't have to baby me. You sleep.'

Maybe he's forgotten how stubborn she could be.

'Stop whining. It's my turn to stay up.'

'You look terrible.'

It's a tactic, and she knows better than to let it get to her.

'I'm not backing off. We could both not sleep tonight, if you'd prefer it that way.'

And that settles it. In a matter of a few minutes, her worry eases as she hears slight snoring coming from his side.

(Barney only ever snores when he's completely exhausted. And considering his stamina, that's saying a lot. )

She remembers the way they would fall asleep together, back when Barney still instinctively tried to run away every night. She never blamed him for it; it was who he was, and still is. But now, things just seem to rub differently. Everything they say to each other sound like insults, even if they aren't supposed to be. Not at all.

Why, though? If they're still the same people. If they still care about each other. What's different?

'Who's there?' she demands, as the door swings open. She sits up sharply. Her heart pounds in her ears.

'Shsh. . .'

A man walks quietly towards them and bends down. He gives her a heavy paperbag hastily. He runs his hands all over the wall behind her as she watches, intently, curiously. Then, the man pulls a plank apart, revealing a hollow concave, and stares back at her.

'Who are you?' she whispers.

'This should last for a few days. I'll be back.'

'Why are you helping us?'

The man shakes his head and leaves the package with her. Slips out as quickly as he had come in. Robin digs in, careful not to make too much noise and wake Barney. There are a few supplies: water, some food, cotton swabs, a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Sheer relief showers her. Then, disappointment. Couldn't the man have given them a phone of some sort? Instructions? A map? Anything.

Anything.

As a journalist she's reported on these stories. Some people make it out after days, months, years—if they survive at all. Knowing all these facts give her a heightened sense of hopelessness, like she's drowning and flailing her arms and gulping all the water, and there's nothing anyone can do.

XXX

'So he just came in and gave us all of this?'

'He did. And he mentioned that he'd come back to give us more.'

Barney counts their supplies. 'Three bottles of water. Biscuits, processed cheese, chocolate kisses. Cotton and alcohol?'

'For wounds.'

'Right.'

'It means he's anticipating something really bad, though, doesn't it?' She's had her suspicions and worries, and she'd waited until he woke up to share them. 'They're planning ahead.'

'Robin, I think at this point, we're just their toys.'

Except the one they really want to hurt isn't her; it's him.

'Pull that plank out,' she instructs. 'We need to hide all of this before someone comes in.'

They hide the bag like it's the most valuable thing in the world. Their secret, their life. One more thing that could tear them apart.

'Look, Barney,' she starts, after a few moments. Finally, everything has sunk in. 'Whatever happens to us, I just want to say—'

'Shut up, Scherbatsky. Nothing's going to happen,' he interrupts firmly. But she hears the tremble in his tone.

'These people are serious, Barney. They could kill us anytime.'

'They can't.'

'Why?'

His face twists grimly. 'They want to see us suffer. Dying would be the easier way out here.'

'It never is, Barney.' She doesn't show how scared she is that he would say that.

He pauses. They're angled as far apart as they can be. For a moment, she thinks he's about to edge closer, maybe kiss her. But he doesn't.

'It's my fault you're here,' he tells her. 'I never should've said I wanted to go home early that night. I was lying.'

'Why would you?'

He shrugs. 'A bunch of reasons. I felt like I needed to fix something between us, I guess, to make up for the terrible stuff I do to you.'

'This counts as one of them?'

'When we get out of here, I'd probably have to spend the rest of my life apologizing,' he muses.

She loves the way he feels the need to be the sure one, between them, that there's a life beyond this.

'It's not going to be enough,' she replies. Her lips stretch to form a weak smile. It's a first. 'Trust me.'

I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

That last quote's from Pablo Neruda, and Ted's a fan, so I thought it kind of fits.

Please review! 7 again! Tell me what parts you like or don't like, what you think will happen. . .