FIC: The cold light of day (1/4) HIMYM-AU/Chaos!Verse
The cold light of day
Robin didn't want to admit that she was feeling a little lonely lately.
She also didn't want to admit that she'd starting having certain… feelings… for Barney. Feelings that went beyond the strictly sisterly affection she knew she should have for him.
And the trouble was, when she'd seen him fray, when she'd seen him start to unravel, he'd look at her with a kind of empty longing but he never turned to her for help.
All those times when he'd been lost, rudderless, helpless, he'd never once reached out to her.
Oh, he'd reached out to Lily… to Ted… once even to Marshall-
(and Marshall wouldn't shut up about it. How he'd "saved Barney's life". They'd even coined their own phrase: Nuclear Barney. It was really starting to piss her off!)
-but never to her.
What hurt her, what really killed her, was when Ted had tackled her in the living room the previous night, telling her she was selfish and to back off, telling her she didn't understand what Barney was going through. Telling her she hadn't ever seen…
No, she hadn't ever seen. Because Barney had never let her see. And even after she'd told herself it must be her fault, because maybe she was avoiding him… Even after she'd started forcing her way back into his life, invading his weekends, making a space for herself…. Even then, she could feel his distance. She could feel Barney, always closing himself down from her in a way that he never did with Ted or Lily.
She couldn't reach him.
But something drove her on regardless. Something handed her an ice pick and helped her chip, chip, chip away at the solid, frozen wall between her and him. In fact, yesterday she had sworn he'd started to loosen up, to get back into his own skin, his old, familiar self. She'd seen him laugh, properly laugh, for the first time in weeks.
And then, suddenly, he'd closed down on her again. As inexplicably as ever, his expression had frozen, his eyes had dulled and he'd withdrawn from the field of combat without a single explanation.
Robin had tried prodding and poking and teasing him. She'd even voiced her fear (a real fear) that Barney had somehow developed a thing for Ted. But she had struck the brick wall again and it chilled her to the bone.
What the hell was wrong with him?
And, come to think of it, what the hell was wrong with her? Was she really that much of an ice queen (she knew she wasn't - she had loved, long and deeply) that her friends turned away from her at the time of their greatest need?
Something twisted inside of her. It was horrible. It hurt.
Robin didn't want to admit that it was possible that she needed Barney Stinson far more than he'd ever need her, that this was more than just a stupid crush. That scared her more than anything.
Yawning, she pushed herself out of bed. Robin hated how much it hurt her that Barney didn't stay the night. Of course, she'd given him no encouragement but, just for once, it would have been nice if he could have read her mind. He always stayed over for Ted. The couch had begun to develop dents from where his body invariably lay, hip bone, elbow, knees, curled up and comforted. He'd often said that he didn't want to be alone, not when he felt an attack might be near.
It was ridiculous and irrational, Robin knew that, but it felt to her like Barney always stayed for the others but he didn't stay for her. They'd had sex, they'd laughed about it afterwards and she'd felt something claw its way under her skin. But he hadn't stayed. He should have stayed.
She wondered what had happened to him after he'd left the apartment. Where did he go? A strip club? A bar? Another woman, after what had happened between them?
He could have stayed with her. He didn't have to go looking elsewhere. Wasn't it better with her? Didn't they share something above and beyond a mindless hookup with a nameless, faceless bimbo?
Robin headed for the shower.
There had been a moment, after Barney had pushed her against the refrigerator door and crushed her lips with his, there had been a moment when he'd drawn back and she'd not been sure that he would back off even if she wanted him to. There was something frightening in his eyes - something angry and hungry and… needing her.
Even so, she couldn't bear to turn him away.
Robin wandered into the deserted living room, littered with empty beer bottles and popcorn and plastic food packaging and she collapsed on the couch, wrapping her robe tightly around her.
She took a deep breath and looked up, over towards the kitchen.
She closed her eyes with a sigh and silently shook her head. Yep, you could definitely see a lot from here, from this angle.
Their friends would have seen (mostly) everything.
And, yes, she had clutched at Barney, hoping he'd let her get close. And yes… she had smiled as he walked out the door, she had forced the smile to remain as their tenuous connection snapped clean away. She had smiled to cover up the sharp, unexpected pain she'd felt and could never articulate.
Today, Sunday, was Lily's day. Her turn with him. The day they went for their run. It wasn't even worth texting him.
Robin did so anyway. It was the normal thing to do.
For normal, read: Cold, empty façade.
Lily got to spend time with Barney. Ted and Marshall got to spend time with Barney. Robin didn't want to claim any ownership of him. Sex didn't make him hers, it never would. She had no right to be jealous.
Then why did she feel like her heart was on fire?
Suck it up, Scherbatsky, she told herself. This is what you're good at. Avoid the pain, protect yourself. If Barney knew you were thinking this, he'd call you pathetic.
And then he'd probably call Lily. Or Ted. And talk things through with them, asking for their advice.
Robin suddenly felt enraged, angry at everyone, irrationally blaming them for changing Barney, for smothering him, baby-ing him. He was an adult, not a kid. He was a man…
"Hey," Ted called out to her from his bedroom door.
Robin looked up, glaring at him before she could master her emotions. "What?"
"Uh… is there any… coffee?" Ted said, picking up her vibe from across the room.
She shrugged as her phone buzzed against her leg. She could see it had a message from Barney and, for a moment, she hesitated opening it.
When she did, the message made her smile. It cut through her pain into the quietly joyful place inside her that was reserved for him - fenced off and labelled with his name.
Damn it, could she tell him how she felt…? How she was beginning to feel?
"So, you and Barney hooked up again?" Ted said, startling her out of her reverie.
Robin looked up at him sharply, despite having worked out that Ted would know what had gone on. "Oh god… you saw?" She managed, sheepishly.
"We… averted our eyes!" Ted collapsed on the seat next to her, twisting his body to face her.
"Look, it's none of your business…" Robin began, then realised it was useless saying that to Ted. "Okay, okay. I don't know, it just sort-of… happened."
"Robin, I love you. I love Barney. I just don't want to be the one who has to pick up the pieces of a broken heart…" Ted shook his head sadly.
"Ted, Barney's not going to break my heart-" Robin began and Ted gave her a very confused look but she ploughed on. "You think I'm that naive?" she continued. "I know how he operates, more than anyone…"
"So why did you do it?" Ted asked.
"I don't know! It just-"
"Happened? You said that already. Robin," Ted frowned. He wasn't exactly being hostile but there was an undercurrent to his words.
"Are you upset, because of the… bro… thing? Because of us…?" Robin asked. Men were so complicated sometimes, especially Ted. Some of his emotions were completely unfathomable to her.
"No… No… That's… a long time ago." Ted sighed. "It's just…"
"Look.... Ted... we just... had a great day, okay? Barney and me," Robin tried to articulate how she felt, why she'd acted the way she did. But she secretly worried that there was no rational explanation that would ever satisfy Ted. "And he was sweet and funny and charming and…" She shrugged helplessly. How could she ever tell Ted about the black pit of desire and burning desperation in her belly, about how Barney had just done everything so… perfectly. How he'd given her exactly what she needed. How she'd gotten totally lost in him, to the point where she'd have done pretty much anything he'd asked. How, in that moment, she'd decided to do something stupid...
Ted frowned. "Look, I'm not trying to judge you…" He said, in his best I am totally judging you voice. "It's not about the sex. It's about… Barney's very influenced by you. You have this… power... over him. And if you encourage him to stay up late in bars and pick up random girls… soon he'll be back to suits and over-work and panic attacks and…" Ted shook his head. "Out of all of us, you're the one who has the most chance of fixing him, of helping him…"
Robin shook her head, completely bewildered. Then she laughed. "My god, Ted! What the hell are you talking about?" Ted opened his mouth as if to speak but she cut him off. "That's ridiculous! Barney doesn't listen to me! I had to literally give him a strip show just to get him to put on a pair of jeans! And sex doesn't mean fixing him, if he even needs fixing. He's not as vulnerable or damaged as you all seem to think he is!"
Again Ted tried to interrupt but Robin had a pound of bile sitting in her stomach and it was ready to burn its way through. "What happened between me and Barney really isn't any of your business, Ted. And if you say anything to Barney about it, so help me god…" She struggled to get up, her emotions all awry. She hated herself like this. She hated losing control like this.
She escaped from Ted's reaching hand and retreated to the safety of her bedroom, throwing on the first clothes she could find. She just had to get out. She had to get out.
She stormed out of the apartment, completely forgetting that she'd left her cellphone on the couch next to Ted.
(Part 2 here)
.
Robin didn't want to admit that she was feeling a little lonely lately.
She also didn't want to admit that she'd starting having certain… feelings… for Barney. Feelings that went beyond the strictly sisterly affection she knew she should have for him.
And the trouble was, when she'd seen him fray, when she'd seen him start to unravel, he'd look at her with a kind of empty longing but he never turned to her for help.
All those times when he'd been lost, rudderless, helpless, he'd never once reached out to her.
Oh, he'd reached out to Lily… to Ted… once even to Marshall-
(and Marshall wouldn't shut up about it. How he'd "saved Barney's life". They'd even coined their own phrase: Nuclear Barney. It was really starting to piss her off!)
-but never to her.
What hurt her, what really killed her, was when Ted had tackled her in the living room the previous night, telling her she was selfish and to back off, telling her she didn't understand what Barney was going through. Telling her she hadn't ever seen…
No, she hadn't ever seen. Because Barney had never let her see. And even after she'd told herself it must be her fault, because maybe she was avoiding him… Even after she'd started forcing her way back into his life, invading his weekends, making a space for herself…. Even then, she could feel his distance. She could feel Barney, always closing himself down from her in a way that he never did with Ted or Lily.
She couldn't reach him.
But something drove her on regardless. Something handed her an ice pick and helped her chip, chip, chip away at the solid, frozen wall between her and him. In fact, yesterday she had sworn he'd started to loosen up, to get back into his own skin, his old, familiar self. She'd seen him laugh, properly laugh, for the first time in weeks.
And then, suddenly, he'd closed down on her again. As inexplicably as ever, his expression had frozen, his eyes had dulled and he'd withdrawn from the field of combat without a single explanation.
Robin had tried prodding and poking and teasing him. She'd even voiced her fear (a real fear) that Barney had somehow developed a thing for Ted. But she had struck the brick wall again and it chilled her to the bone.
What the hell was wrong with him?
And, come to think of it, what the hell was wrong with her? Was she really that much of an ice queen (she knew she wasn't - she had loved, long and deeply) that her friends turned away from her at the time of their greatest need?
Something twisted inside of her. It was horrible. It hurt.
Robin didn't want to admit that it was possible that she needed Barney Stinson far more than he'd ever need her, that this was more than just a stupid crush. That scared her more than anything.
Yawning, she pushed herself out of bed. Robin hated how much it hurt her that Barney didn't stay the night. Of course, she'd given him no encouragement but, just for once, it would have been nice if he could have read her mind. He always stayed over for Ted. The couch had begun to develop dents from where his body invariably lay, hip bone, elbow, knees, curled up and comforted. He'd often said that he didn't want to be alone, not when he felt an attack might be near.
It was ridiculous and irrational, Robin knew that, but it felt to her like Barney always stayed for the others but he didn't stay for her. They'd had sex, they'd laughed about it afterwards and she'd felt something claw its way under her skin. But he hadn't stayed. He should have stayed.
She wondered what had happened to him after he'd left the apartment. Where did he go? A strip club? A bar? Another woman, after what had happened between them?
He could have stayed with her. He didn't have to go looking elsewhere. Wasn't it better with her? Didn't they share something above and beyond a mindless hookup with a nameless, faceless bimbo?
Robin headed for the shower.
There had been a moment, after Barney had pushed her against the refrigerator door and crushed her lips with his, there had been a moment when he'd drawn back and she'd not been sure that he would back off even if she wanted him to. There was something frightening in his eyes - something angry and hungry and… needing her.
Even so, she couldn't bear to turn him away.
Robin wandered into the deserted living room, littered with empty beer bottles and popcorn and plastic food packaging and she collapsed on the couch, wrapping her robe tightly around her.
She took a deep breath and looked up, over towards the kitchen.
She closed her eyes with a sigh and silently shook her head. Yep, you could definitely see a lot from here, from this angle.
Their friends would have seen (mostly) everything.
And, yes, she had clutched at Barney, hoping he'd let her get close. And yes… she had smiled as he walked out the door, she had forced the smile to remain as their tenuous connection snapped clean away. She had smiled to cover up the sharp, unexpected pain she'd felt and could never articulate.
Today, Sunday, was Lily's day. Her turn with him. The day they went for their run. It wasn't even worth texting him.
Robin did so anyway. It was the normal thing to do.
For normal, read: Cold, empty façade.
Lily got to spend time with Barney. Ted and Marshall got to spend time with Barney. Robin didn't want to claim any ownership of him. Sex didn't make him hers, it never would. She had no right to be jealous.
Then why did she feel like her heart was on fire?
Suck it up, Scherbatsky, she told herself. This is what you're good at. Avoid the pain, protect yourself. If Barney knew you were thinking this, he'd call you pathetic.
And then he'd probably call Lily. Or Ted. And talk things through with them, asking for their advice.
Robin suddenly felt enraged, angry at everyone, irrationally blaming them for changing Barney, for smothering him, baby-ing him. He was an adult, not a kid. He was a man…
"Hey," Ted called out to her from his bedroom door.
Robin looked up, glaring at him before she could master her emotions. "What?"
"Uh… is there any… coffee?" Ted said, picking up her vibe from across the room.
She shrugged as her phone buzzed against her leg. She could see it had a message from Barney and, for a moment, she hesitated opening it.
When she did, the message made her smile. It cut through her pain into the quietly joyful place inside her that was reserved for him - fenced off and labelled with his name.
Damn it, could she tell him how she felt…? How she was beginning to feel?
"So, you and Barney hooked up again?" Ted said, startling her out of her reverie.
Robin looked up at him sharply, despite having worked out that Ted would know what had gone on. "Oh god… you saw?" She managed, sheepishly.
"We… averted our eyes!" Ted collapsed on the seat next to her, twisting his body to face her.
"Look, it's none of your business…" Robin began, then realised it was useless saying that to Ted. "Okay, okay. I don't know, it just sort-of… happened."
"Robin, I love you. I love Barney. I just don't want to be the one who has to pick up the pieces of a broken heart…" Ted shook his head sadly.
"Ted, Barney's not going to break my heart-" Robin began and Ted gave her a very confused look but she ploughed on. "You think I'm that naive?" she continued. "I know how he operates, more than anyone…"
"So why did you do it?" Ted asked.
"I don't know! It just-"
"Happened? You said that already. Robin," Ted frowned. He wasn't exactly being hostile but there was an undercurrent to his words.
"Are you upset, because of the… bro… thing? Because of us…?" Robin asked. Men were so complicated sometimes, especially Ted. Some of his emotions were completely unfathomable to her.
"No… No… That's… a long time ago." Ted sighed. "It's just…"
"Look.... Ted... we just... had a great day, okay? Barney and me," Robin tried to articulate how she felt, why she'd acted the way she did. But she secretly worried that there was no rational explanation that would ever satisfy Ted. "And he was sweet and funny and charming and…" She shrugged helplessly. How could she ever tell Ted about the black pit of desire and burning desperation in her belly, about how Barney had just done everything so… perfectly. How he'd given her exactly what she needed. How she'd gotten totally lost in him, to the point where she'd have done pretty much anything he'd asked. How, in that moment, she'd decided to do something stupid...
Ted frowned. "Look, I'm not trying to judge you…" He said, in his best I am totally judging you voice. "It's not about the sex. It's about… Barney's very influenced by you. You have this… power... over him. And if you encourage him to stay up late in bars and pick up random girls… soon he'll be back to suits and over-work and panic attacks and…" Ted shook his head. "Out of all of us, you're the one who has the most chance of fixing him, of helping him…"
Robin shook her head, completely bewildered. Then she laughed. "My god, Ted! What the hell are you talking about?" Ted opened his mouth as if to speak but she cut him off. "That's ridiculous! Barney doesn't listen to me! I had to literally give him a strip show just to get him to put on a pair of jeans! And sex doesn't mean fixing him, if he even needs fixing. He's not as vulnerable or damaged as you all seem to think he is!"
Again Ted tried to interrupt but Robin had a pound of bile sitting in her stomach and it was ready to burn its way through. "What happened between me and Barney really isn't any of your business, Ted. And if you say anything to Barney about it, so help me god…" She struggled to get up, her emotions all awry. She hated herself like this. She hated losing control like this.
She escaped from Ted's reaching hand and retreated to the safety of her bedroom, throwing on the first clothes she could find. She just had to get out. She had to get out.
She stormed out of the apartment, completely forgetting that she'd left her cellphone on the couch next to Ted.
(Part 2 here)
.