FIC: A Man's Gotta Do (1/1) HIMYM
Title: A Man's Gotta Do
Summary: Barney is left alone to deal with the consequences of Ted siding with Zoey.
Rating/Warnings: Gen/PG
Word Count: 885
Fandom/Pairing: HIMYM, Gen
Spoilers: For Season 6 - The Perfect Cocktail
Barney sat up straight in the uncomfortable plastic chair, fixed his tie and stared blankly at the featureless wall. There were no posters on that wall, no certificates, not even a window in the whole room. There was just the table and two chairs, and even they were bolted to the floor.
GNB had learned the hard way after one of the managers had been given a pointed lesson in the use of the humble chair as a bludgeon.
So Barney had no choice but to wait, and he was careful to show no sign of impatience. He knew that the employee transition room was monitored by closed-circuit TV and he also knew that they were leaving here to sweat for a reason.
“What happened to you, Stinson?”
Barney also knew enough about the game not to flinch when Joe Donavan walked suddenly into the room. He’d used that technique himself a thousand times after all. Part of him just wished Donavan would cut to the chase and fire his ass already. “I don’t know,” he drawled, being deliberately flippant. “Guess I get more awesome with each passing day. It’s a curse I’ve just got to bear.”
Looking decidedly unimpressed, Joe sat down opposite him and place a folder on the table. “You used to be one of the greats,” he said in an even, clipped tone. “An executive at the top of his game. But then you started hiring your friends against my express advice, and don’t think we haven’t noticed the decline in your work since then.”
“Right,” Barney replied, looking down at his fingernails. He couldn’t help it; he'd never been great at taking criticism when he knew what it could lead to. It wasn’t like Arthur Hobbs had the authority to fire him even if he wanted to, only Joe could do that. But if Joe was here, things were really serious. “Right," Barney continued. "Because there’s only one Architect in the whole of Manhattan!” He layered on the sarcasm. “C’mon! We’ve got the preliminary plans, we can go ahead with the project without… Ted.”
The word stuck in his throat. How could they go ahead and build to Ted’s design without his best friend, no, his two best friends, on board? There was almost a physical pain inside him, like saying Ted's name aloud, like the effort of finally admitting he was on his own in this had sliced right through his gut.
“You expect me to think that you’re capable of carrying this out all by yourself?” Joe got right down to it, cut right through the bullshit and into the heart of Barney’s own fear. The bastard was really good at this.
That’s why he was president of the damn bank, after all.
And at the very time that Barney needed to be at his best, needed to be fighting fit in heart and mind, he was nothing but a jumbled mess. If he was brutally honest, his head hadn't been in the game for a while now, and his heart was nothing but a mangled lump - punch drunk from all the blows that had been thrown at it lately.
Ted, Barney thought bitterly. How could you do this? Bros before Hoes - was that was just an empty promise? When Marshall had left, it had hurt more than he’d thought possible, but Ted walking out on the project had got him on an entirely different level.
Inside, it was like he could hear a chorus of voices - his Mom, his Brother, Robin - the strongest people that he knew - telling him to take this on the chin, dust himself off and get back in the ring. Barney Stinson isn’t a quitter, they seemed to say. And even while he was cowling inside, feeling like little more than a scared kid who'd been betrayed by everyone he counted on, Barney still couldn’t bring himself to disappoint them.
“I can do it,” he said, between clenched teeth. “It’s my project, and I’ll damn well bring it in, Joe.”
Donavan closed the file.
There were no windows in the room but Barney knew that there was blazing sunshine outside. Inside, however, it was freezing.
Robin always said that you can’t rely on anybody but yourself. In the last few years he’d let himself forget that. Barney knew that he'd let himself been seduced by friendship, softened up by new insights into his childhood, and by love.
Friendship that was false, love that was hopeless, a childhood that was little more than a series of lies.
“I can do this,” he said more firmly.
Don’t back down. Never show them you’re weak.
And inside, deep inside, so deep now he could barely feel it, the stab of betrayal mutated into a kind of rocket fuel, a kind of cold anger that drove him onward. Barney straightened his already perfect tie, brushed the non existent lint from his immaculate suit, and stood. “You either let me do my job, or get the hell out of here.”
Donavan nodded. “Okay. But we break ground in September, with or without you.”
He stuck out his hand and Barney shook it. Joe’s hand felt warm against Barney’s icy fingers.
Ted, how could you do this to me?
No.
Barney felt himself harden, felt himself withdraw behind armor that he’d first forged almost fifteen years before - a breast plate of worsted wool and a helmet of sheer, steely bravado.
It would be a long time before he’d let his guard down around anybody again.
Summary: Barney is left alone to deal with the consequences of Ted siding with Zoey.
Rating/Warnings: Gen/PG
Word Count: 885
Fandom/Pairing: HIMYM, Gen
Spoilers: For Season 6 - The Perfect Cocktail
Barney sat up straight in the uncomfortable plastic chair, fixed his tie and stared blankly at the featureless wall. There were no posters on that wall, no certificates, not even a window in the whole room. There was just the table and two chairs, and even they were bolted to the floor.
GNB had learned the hard way after one of the managers had been given a pointed lesson in the use of the humble chair as a bludgeon.
So Barney had no choice but to wait, and he was careful to show no sign of impatience. He knew that the employee transition room was monitored by closed-circuit TV and he also knew that they were leaving here to sweat for a reason.
“What happened to you, Stinson?”
Barney also knew enough about the game not to flinch when Joe Donavan walked suddenly into the room. He’d used that technique himself a thousand times after all. Part of him just wished Donavan would cut to the chase and fire his ass already. “I don’t know,” he drawled, being deliberately flippant. “Guess I get more awesome with each passing day. It’s a curse I’ve just got to bear.”
Looking decidedly unimpressed, Joe sat down opposite him and place a folder on the table. “You used to be one of the greats,” he said in an even, clipped tone. “An executive at the top of his game. But then you started hiring your friends against my express advice, and don’t think we haven’t noticed the decline in your work since then.”
“Right,” Barney replied, looking down at his fingernails. He couldn’t help it; he'd never been great at taking criticism when he knew what it could lead to. It wasn’t like Arthur Hobbs had the authority to fire him even if he wanted to, only Joe could do that. But if Joe was here, things were really serious. “Right," Barney continued. "Because there’s only one Architect in the whole of Manhattan!” He layered on the sarcasm. “C’mon! We’ve got the preliminary plans, we can go ahead with the project without… Ted.”
The word stuck in his throat. How could they go ahead and build to Ted’s design without his best friend, no, his two best friends, on board? There was almost a physical pain inside him, like saying Ted's name aloud, like the effort of finally admitting he was on his own in this had sliced right through his gut.
“You expect me to think that you’re capable of carrying this out all by yourself?” Joe got right down to it, cut right through the bullshit and into the heart of Barney’s own fear. The bastard was really good at this.
That’s why he was president of the damn bank, after all.
And at the very time that Barney needed to be at his best, needed to be fighting fit in heart and mind, he was nothing but a jumbled mess. If he was brutally honest, his head hadn't been in the game for a while now, and his heart was nothing but a mangled lump - punch drunk from all the blows that had been thrown at it lately.
Ted, Barney thought bitterly. How could you do this? Bros before Hoes - was that was just an empty promise? When Marshall had left, it had hurt more than he’d thought possible, but Ted walking out on the project had got him on an entirely different level.
Inside, it was like he could hear a chorus of voices - his Mom, his Brother, Robin - the strongest people that he knew - telling him to take this on the chin, dust himself off and get back in the ring. Barney Stinson isn’t a quitter, they seemed to say. And even while he was cowling inside, feeling like little more than a scared kid who'd been betrayed by everyone he counted on, Barney still couldn’t bring himself to disappoint them.
“I can do it,” he said, between clenched teeth. “It’s my project, and I’ll damn well bring it in, Joe.”
Donavan closed the file.
There were no windows in the room but Barney knew that there was blazing sunshine outside. Inside, however, it was freezing.
Robin always said that you can’t rely on anybody but yourself. In the last few years he’d let himself forget that. Barney knew that he'd let himself been seduced by friendship, softened up by new insights into his childhood, and by love.
Friendship that was false, love that was hopeless, a childhood that was little more than a series of lies.
“I can do this,” he said more firmly.
Don’t back down. Never show them you’re weak.
And inside, deep inside, so deep now he could barely feel it, the stab of betrayal mutated into a kind of rocket fuel, a kind of cold anger that drove him onward. Barney straightened his already perfect tie, brushed the non existent lint from his immaculate suit, and stood. “You either let me do my job, or get the hell out of here.”
Donavan nodded. “Okay. But we break ground in September, with or without you.”
He stuck out his hand and Barney shook it. Joe’s hand felt warm against Barney’s icy fingers.
Ted, how could you do this to me?
No.
Barney felt himself harden, felt himself withdraw behind armor that he’d first forged almost fifteen years before - a breast plate of worsted wool and a helmet of sheer, steely bravado.
It would be a long time before he’d let his guard down around anybody again.