A/N: Wow, many reviews and favourites! Thanks again, guys. Here's your next chapter, thanks to CatherineJosephineMarie007 for the idea at the end, it was brilliant! By the way, this chapter's poem is the poem Ted was going to read about friendship, until the gang stopped him :P

The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand,
Nor the kindly smile nor the joy of companionship;
It is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when
He discovers that someone else believes in him and is
Willing to trust him.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter 9: You Are A Runner And I Am My Father's Son

"You have to go home at some point."

Robin shook her head as vehemently as she could against Barney's chest.

"Not tired."

Barney scoffed. "You've yawned five times in the last two minutes. I've been counting."

Robin smiled sleepily. "Well then, I'll sleep here."

"Not if you actually want to...sleep."

"Barney!"

"What, the cancer patient can't get laid? Where's that in the rulebook?" Barney said with mock offense.

"Is there ever a time where you're NOT thinking about getting laid?"

"Glad you asked that, Robin..."

Robin groaned at Barney's tone. He was about to go off on some insane tangent. He always answered in that self-important tone when he was about to spout off another insane theory.

"In the interest of diversity and of my own growth as a fully well-rounded human being, I have reached the conclusion that I can't be thinking about my own brand of awesome every minute. Which is why, I have scheduled time to think of anything but, daily and in very small increments. Today's falls at about 2:32 and goes through to 2:34:32. I don't want to extend it too much, in fear of deviating from my true calling, of course."

Robin propped herself up on her arm and looked at Barney incredulously. "I really don't even know why I bother with you."

"Oh, Scherbatsky, you can't imagine your life without me."

Robin's eyes drank in all of Barney's features, from the bags under his eyes to his deathly pale face. Her hand reached down and her fingers settled over his prominent rib cage. Her other hand drifted to his face, ghosting over the hollowed out cheekbones and the thin, chapped lips. How had she not noticed this before? Barney looked like a ghost of himself, even after the transfusion. Her hand skimmed his wrist, finding it filled with healing gashes from IV lines and needle sticks. In their little world, at the bar, at Barney's place, when Robin looked back, despite the memories that kept coming back with such a relentlessness detailing when she should have known, Barney had still seemed healthy. Now, he was a skeleton.

"No." Robin whispered, so softly that Barney barely heard. "No, I can't."

Barney gave no indication that he had heard, but Robin felt his arms tightening a fraction around her. Hell, they were Barney and Robin. They didn't do couple traditions. They didn't make out at the movies, they didn't hold hands at the bar, and they sure as shit didn't cuddle in bed.

What would happen if they lost that crazy, inexplicable bond that drew them together in the first place? Their non-couple traditions, were, Robin realized, traditions in themselves. Cancer killed many things, and from the little Robin had seen of what cancer did to people, the idea that they would be able to keep going exactly as they had seemed pretty damn hopeless.

Barney's hand stilled as it passed over her hair.

"Go home, Scherbatsky. Under-eye bags are not hot on a chick."

****himym****

When Robin finally arrived home, she found the rest of the group, sitting forlornly on the couch, a nearly-full bag of chips and a mostly-empty bottle of scotch rotating among them. Robin flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh, snagging the bottle as it made its way to Marshall. She took a big swig, sighing as the taste of the scotch burned her throat.

Annoyed, Marshall snatched the bottle from her and took a gulp, then handed it to Ted.

"Don't hog the alcohol."

"Seriously? You guys are drinking while in the throes of, from what I've heard, should be the worst hangover ever."

"Freshman policy." Lily shrugged. "Never have to be hungover if we just keep drinking."

Ted and Marshall nodded their assent, and Robin shrugged. Made sense, she figured. Or at least made sense to college freshmen, and apparently, those whose whole worlds had just been shifted.

Silence reigned for what felt like forever, until Marshall's fist suddenly came down hard on the table, making everyone jump, including Ted, who added in a decidedly girly squeal.

"How could he not tell us?" Marshall hissed. "He has cancer. Are we just too fucking naive to think that we would actually tell each other if something was wrong?"

"He was trying to protect us," Robin whispered, shocked to hear those words come out of her mouth. She had been so sure she was still angry with Barney.

Marshall huffed out a breath. "Yeah, I feel really sheltered right now."

"I know," Ted said softly. "It was crazy to keep it from us. But think about it. Isn't it just like Barney?"

A reluctant smile lit Marshall's face. "Yeah. He was trying to protect us. How he saw us as a group, and I guess...how we all saw him." He sighed heavily. "I just wish we could tell him how fucking shitty it feels to us."

At that, Lily's head snapped up, and a ghost of a smile crossed her face.

"I've got an idea."

****himym****

Barney was sleeping as they made their way into his room, backpacks full. Moving quietly, they set up their equipment.

Moments later, Ted whacked loudly on Barney's bed, startling him awake.

"What the hell..." sputtered a half-awake Barney.

Robin, Marshall, Lily and Ted made a line by the foot of Barney's bed, flipping the light on suddenly. As Barney's eyes adjusted to the harsh lighting, he took in a long piece of paper with hastily painted on words. Squinting, he made out:

Cance- -terven-

"What the hell..."he repeated.

Ted cleared his throat. "Barney, this is an intervention."

Incredulous, Barney looked at his friends.

"Are you kidding me?"

Lily shook her head. "This is a Cancer Intervention, or as we have abbreviated it, Cancention. We've all written letters about how your incredibly, unbelievably, almost unfathomable decision to..."

"Lily..." Marshall laid a hand on his wife's arm before she could lose herself in an angry rage.

"Right." Lily composed herself briefly. "As I was saying, this is an intervention, so we can tell you how we feel about you keeping this arguably large secret to yourself. Go, Ted."

Ted stepped out of the line and opened a sheet of paper.

"Dear Barney," he read. "There are many words I could have chosen for this occasion. Mad, confused, furious...well, not furious as well as mad, technically that would be saying the same thing twice, just using a synonym..."

"Dude!" Marshall exclaimed.

"Right," Ted corrected himself. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that, while it is completely like you to do this...you guys wanted to be there for me when Stella left me. You're being a complete hypocrite by not letting us be there for you."

With a long look in his friend's direction, Ted stepped back, and beckoned Marshall to go forward.

For once in his life, Barney listened to his friends without saying a word, shocked at the impact his decision had on them. It was very hard for him to believe that his friends wanted to be there for him, as a point of view he wouldn't let himself consider. Still, as he listened to Ted read his letter, it seemed like that was all that mattered to them. He had betrayed them, in their eyes.

"...and I know how you think we see you," Lily read. "Barney...have you ever heard played Jenga?"

"...yes?" Barney answered, entirely lost on where Lily was going with this.

She nodded "When you build a Jenga tower, it's not just the one block. There's like eighty of them, all crammed tightly into this one little space. They're forced together, and they have to, like, glue together on the rare occasion that they're stacked right. But...if even one is taken out, no matter how careful I am no matter which time I play, that damn lost block makes it all come tumbling down."

An unexpected sob rose in Lily's throat and she angrily bit it down.

"And you think it means nothing, right? It's one damn block. The others would just lean on each other more; bond together so you can still win the game. But every time, without fail, that one block is taken away, and everything comes crashing down."

Lily slowly made her way up to Barney's bed, slowly followed by the rest of the group. She slipped her hand into his, the tears silently falling down her cheeks.

"You're that one block, Barney. Give the others a little warning if you know everything's going to come crashing down.

A/N#2: So obviously, endings are the hardest part of writing. That's all for now, folks! Leave some review love on the way out!