FIC: play it, sam (but i forget how it goes); B/R, PG
Title: play it, sam (but i forget how it goes)
Author: hyacinthian
Rating: Eh, I'd say it ranges from G to R, really
Author's Note: All previous chapters here. Unbetaed. SPOILERS, OBVIOUSLY. Blah, this episode. Blah, this season.
Summary: 5x21 (Twin Beds).
She's changing for him.
She's changing for him when she always said she'd never change for anyone, not even for Barney Stinson, because she's Robin fucking Scherbatsky and she's awesome in her own right, so why the hell would she? When she stands there and tells him that she can't hang out with them so she can protect this, can make sure that what she has with Don isn't sabotaged, his head throbs and his jaw clenches and part of him knows this isn't from the hangover.
It took him years to admit he loved her, months for them to start defining things, and he feels like Don - fucking perfect, angelic, godly Don - and Robin are moving in weeks and days, minutes and hours, seconds and seconds. She's moving in with him. She's moving in with him when she never even talked about it with him.
And yes, he knows he hasn't changed. But change doesn't come like a bomb, fast and explosive, and they talked about it (for fuck's sake, they sat down and talked about it), about how they were Barney-and-Robin, separate yet together, and they were going to stay themselves because they just worked. And then they didn't. And his mind can't wrap itself around the nuances of her logic because, because she's changing for him. For Don. The guy she couldn't stand, the guy who pissed her off so much who's suddenly become the perfect boyfriend.
Ted shoots him a look like he's made them lose one of the best friends they've ever had, but he stares resolutely at the ceiling because it is not his fault. It is not his fault that Robin is going off on this brave new relationship adventure. He swallows the emotion that rises in his throat and makes his head spin.
"Good job, Barn Door," she said, sarcasm curling around her words.
He wants her back, he thinks. It's not just wanting a toy back; he wants his friend back. He wants the real Robin and not this cheap knockoff; part of him speculates that maybe he helped to destroy the old Robin. But it isn't his fault, he thinks, it isn't his fault because - if she destroyed him just as well, does their mutual destruction cancel everything else out?
He's been fucking everything that moves to try and rediscover who he used to be. And now, and now, he's losing her as well.
He can't do this. He can't do this, he can't do this because, fuck, remember when he did this with Shannon and it was miserable? He swore he'd never do it again, never let his heart get broken, because shit like this always happens, because now Robin's in his head and in his heart and in his head and he can't get her out, can't exorcise her particular demon because, well, maybe he doesn't want to, and how can he fix himself if he doesn't want to fix himself?
-
Ted calls him later to tell him that Robin's moved out, gone.
He slams his fist into the wall. His knuckles bleed.
(maybe, maybe if he breaks himself, someone can put him back together.)
When he meets Lily for coffee later, she lifts his hand up, examines the bloodied knuckles. "Barney, what happened?"
He chuckles, faking a grin. "You know what they say, if it ain't broke, break it to fix it."
She frowns.
Author: hyacinthian
Rating: Eh, I'd say it ranges from G to R, really
Author's Note: All previous chapters here. Unbetaed. SPOILERS, OBVIOUSLY. Blah, this episode. Blah, this season.
Summary: 5x21 (Twin Beds).
She's changing for him.
She's changing for him when she always said she'd never change for anyone, not even for Barney Stinson, because she's Robin fucking Scherbatsky and she's awesome in her own right, so why the hell would she? When she stands there and tells him that she can't hang out with them so she can protect this, can make sure that what she has with Don isn't sabotaged, his head throbs and his jaw clenches and part of him knows this isn't from the hangover.
It took him years to admit he loved her, months for them to start defining things, and he feels like Don - fucking perfect, angelic, godly Don - and Robin are moving in weeks and days, minutes and hours, seconds and seconds. She's moving in with him. She's moving in with him when she never even talked about it with him.
And yes, he knows he hasn't changed. But change doesn't come like a bomb, fast and explosive, and they talked about it (for fuck's sake, they sat down and talked about it), about how they were Barney-and-Robin, separate yet together, and they were going to stay themselves because they just worked. And then they didn't. And his mind can't wrap itself around the nuances of her logic because, because she's changing for him. For Don. The guy she couldn't stand, the guy who pissed her off so much who's suddenly become the perfect boyfriend.
Ted shoots him a look like he's made them lose one of the best friends they've ever had, but he stares resolutely at the ceiling because it is not his fault. It is not his fault that Robin is going off on this brave new relationship adventure. He swallows the emotion that rises in his throat and makes his head spin.
"Good job, Barn Door," she said, sarcasm curling around her words.
He wants her back, he thinks. It's not just wanting a toy back; he wants his friend back. He wants the real Robin and not this cheap knockoff; part of him speculates that maybe he helped to destroy the old Robin. But it isn't his fault, he thinks, it isn't his fault because - if she destroyed him just as well, does their mutual destruction cancel everything else out?
He's been fucking everything that moves to try and rediscover who he used to be. And now, and now, he's losing her as well.
He can't do this. He can't do this, he can't do this because, fuck, remember when he did this with Shannon and it was miserable? He swore he'd never do it again, never let his heart get broken, because shit like this always happens, because now Robin's in his head and in his heart and in his head and he can't get her out, can't exorcise her particular demon because, well, maybe he doesn't want to, and how can he fix himself if he doesn't want to fix himself?
-
Ted calls him later to tell him that Robin's moved out, gone.
He slams his fist into the wall. His knuckles bleed.
(maybe, maybe if he breaks himself, someone can put him back together.)
When he meets Lily for coffee later, she lifts his hand up, examines the bloodied knuckles. "Barney, what happened?"
He chuckles, faking a grin. "You know what they say, if it ain't broke, break it to fix it."
She frowns.