"Welcome home!" Barney nearly yelled as a tired Robin came through the door. Filled with excitement, he felt like a deflated balloon as soon as he noticed the dreadful look on her face.

"What's wrong?"

"The hospital called."

Acting like the mood was not already spoiled, he tried to lighten up by pretending he did not know what she was talking about anyway.

"What are you talking about?"

Her face tired and her voice strained, she shot him a look. "Barney, you know what I'm talking about."

It was true. He did.

"What did they say?" He responded. His voice was down to a whisper now, and they both know that only happened when they were in serious and sticky situation.

So Robin sat down on the couch, followed by an eager Barney, and she explained everything to him. The call from the hospital she had received right after theirs, how she felt and what she planned on doing, and he sat there, listening tentatively, not making a peep the whole time.

And when she was done, they both let out a sigh, sharing the same feeling of shame and guilt. They both know what they had done. Barney feeling bothered because he felt as though he was responsible, and Robin worried for she had run away when times got difficult just like any coward would.

"So… Are you going to go?" He wondered out loud.

"Yeah. I guess there's no option anyway. I have to go. It's the only thing I can do for him, after… That."

"Do you absolutely have to, though?"

"I do," she replied, frustrated. "It's not a choice. Look, I know it sounds ridiculous, going back to London just like this. I know it sounds ridiculous I'm flying back and forth like I have an entire pool of money for me to roll in, because I don't. I am unemployed, for God's sake, and running out of money. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't absolutely have to."

Knowing she was bothered, he stopped questioning her immediately.

"Okay then. But I'll go with you."

"No. I can't do that. I can't make you come with me."

"You're not making me. I want to go. I want to be there for you."

"No."

"I know you won't be able to be strong when you go, so let me. Let me be strong for you."

"I said no. And that's final. I'm serious, Barney. I need you to stop thinking I'm some weakling, some damsel in distress, or some unfortunate female protagonist in your typical story setting. Because I am not."

Robin paused, searching Barney's face for a clue on how he was feeling. She knew she had sounded way too harsh, but all she had wanted was for him to let her cope on her own for once. She felt like she had owed him too much, too, and she felt bad about it. She cared for him, probably more than he knew, and she thought if acting a little cold was enough to make him back off and stop being this nice to her, it was what she was going to do.

She cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "Come on. Barney. You know I am not."

"I guess… It's fine then. I'll let you do this alone, if this is what you want." He mumbled, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

It worked, she thought. Barney's backing off.

And although she felt as though she had succeeded, she honestly did not predict his reaction, which turned out to be a glum look. "I'm really sorry."

"No, it's fine. Sometimes I can get a bit too protective and it probably does seem annoying to you when I am. What I mean is, you're right. You are strong and independent. And I need to let go because you can do this on your own." He finished and pursed his lips, mustering a smile to show that he did not care that much anyway.

"Thank you for… Being so cool with this." And that was all she had managed to utter, with a doubtful look on her face.

"As I said, it's fine. It's not a big deal!" He waved a hand in the air as if to say, 'I really don't care as much as you think I do about this'. "Seriously." And at that point, he was practically beaming with confidence. In fact, if confidence were given off in light beams, she was pretty sure she would have been blinded.

Not sure if he was just trying to act tough to match his manly exterior, she looked directly at him again, praying she could see how he was feeling this time round. Her eyes locked on his, her expression serious.

What was he feeling? Sadness? Disappointment? Anger?

Her eyes darted around, searching for clues, but she guessed that he was just exceptionally good at hiding whatever he was feeling; because if he had been feeling everything she had thought he would, she could not see the emotions on his face anyway.

"You're staring at me all funny."

She looked away immediately, caught off-guard.

"No I'm not."

"You were."

"Shush. Let's go get dinner or something. I hope the celebration is still on because I'm feeling peckish."

"I can't believe you just said the word peckish."

"Believe it, loverboy."