Learning How to Live (15/22)
Learning How To Live
Authors: jerseystrife , idioticonion and alixzin
Rating: mild M for some unpleasant adult themes
Summary: Something is terribly wrong with Barney Stinson and his friends have all started to notice him avoiding them. When questions arise, Barney fights to keep his secrets and to keep the life he's grown comfortable with living.
Disclaimer: Sadly, none of us own either of the shows.
Note: This is one of my favorite parts! <3 And of course, a million thanks to roland44 for the beta.
Previous Chapters: One| Two| Three| Four| Five| Six| Seven| Eight| Nine| Ten| Eleven| Twelve| Thirteen| Fourteen
November, 2008
Barney reached out, his fingers just brushing Robin's arm as she sat back in her chair. He ground his teeth in frustration.
"Robin," he croaked. "Robin, I need to talk to you."
"Shh!" she said, unhelpfully, trying to smile (although it was that fake, newscaster smile, he could see that) while straightening the sheet that was draped over his chest. She was always so careful not to disturb the wires and tubes and needles, far more careful than any of the others. She went to fetch a glass of water for him.
"Please," he said, "Don't make me come over there!" He tried to smile but his face seemed to lock into a grimace. She flashed him a grin, regardless.
"You're chirpy today."
The words hung in the air between them, hammering home just how bad things had got when his ability to string together a coherent sentence was considered "chirpy".
"This might be the last time," he forced out each word, not even trying to conserve his energy. "I know the odds. I might not be this lucid tomorrow, or ever again. In five minutes I get the next round of meds and-"
Robin's distress was obvious, "Barney, are you in pain, because…?"
"No," he tried to shake his head but the muscles in his neck no longer seemed to work. Of course he was in pain, but the pain kept him awake, kept him talking. This was it, he knew it now. This was his last time. "No, it's okay. I just… let me talk, woman!"
Robin sat down on the chair and smiled at him demurely. "Go ahead."
He sighed and closed his eyes briefly. "Robin, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since practically the first moment I saw you. It's been tough for me to realize it and accept it but I had to tell you. I had to tell you not because I expect anything from you or would ever think you'd return this… Look, I just wanted you to know that at one point in your life, someone existed in the world who loved you without limits, who would have done anything at all for you and… Robin…" He opened his eyes. The world spun alarmingly around him. He was losing focus, whirling around like ship caught in a storm - rudderless, directionless, lost…
He felt her grip his hand. He felt her pull him back, pressing her lips into his palm.
"I'm so- sorry," he stammered, his lungs feeling like they were on fire. "I didn't mean… to g-give… you such a mindfuck. I'm an insensitive… h-heartless… bastard…"
He could feel her tears, the wetness on the tips of her fingers.
"It's not the drugs…" he whispered, the words drifting from his lips like vapor. "It's the truth, Robin. Loving you is my biggest secret." He tried to laugh at the irony of this confession, his chest heaving.
"I know," Robin said, her voice thick with emotion. "It's okay, I know." Her hand drifted across his forehead. "You get some sleep."
Sleep was called 'the little death', he thought, as his eyelids drooped. And he realized that there was a good chance that he wouldn't wake up this time.
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Late-Summer 1996
They were laughing as they exited the karaoke bar later that night. Doogie shook his head again. "I can't believe I squeaked. I know I can reach that note, but I don't know what happened. My voice just gave out on me."
Charles pulled him to the side of the bar, still chuckling. "I have to admit, that was the best mouse squeak impression I have ever heard."
"Ha!" Leaning against the side of the building, Doogie ran a hand through his hair. "I'm definitely never doing this again. The verbal assault of half my audience laughing at me will be in the back of my mind every stage production I do from now on."
Charles shrugged, much calmer as the cool night air hit him. "Learning experiences. We all need them otherwise we would never grow as people." He glanced at Doogie out of the corner of his eye. "Thanks for coming with me. I know I practically dragged you on an adventure where you ended up completely embarrassed in front of fifty or more strangers..."
Doogie looked at the ground, shrugging. "No! I mean, I had fun. Well, being laughed at by that many people wasn't fun but the overall time was great. Although I'm pretty sure if I don't get a cab home I'm going to end up passing out-"
Lips were covering his, cutting off his sentence.
Startled, but not completely unwilling, Doogie closed his eyes. Unlike their other kisses, this was wasn't messy or all consuming. It was warm, soft, and soothing like the alcohol shots he had earlier. It was a different kiss, something new and interesting. It reminded him of his kisses with Wanda.
Pulling Charles closer to him, he slipped his hands under Charles jacket. At his touch, Charles jerked back muttering "cold hands!" and Doogie had to laugh, it was just too funny to see how easy it was to make Charles react. Charles raised an eyebrow but didn't back out of the embrace.
"Doogie, I want to be with you. I'm probably the first guy to want you this way. But I want to be your learning experience and to watch you grow." Charles lifted Doogie's chin, making their eyes fully meet. He was smiling, and it wasn't the sexual smile that Doogie often saw but the true, happy smile that Charles rarely showed. "You are the most interesting and exciting person I've come to know in a very long time and I want you to know I haven't dated anyone since I met you at the club. I just needed excuses to be with you."
Was he blushing? He felt his cheeks were getting warmer. It could have been from the cold, the alcohol, or Charles' words. It was probably a combination of all three. But then he thought about what would happen if he and Charles were in a relationship together. What would Vinnie say? He wasn't the most open-minded person. "I-Um, I.."
Charles kissed his cheek, near the corner of his mouth. "I know. You never told your mate Vinnie about our little meetings?"
"N-No. He has no idea."
Charles sighed. He dipped his head to rest on Doogie's shoulder. "Okay. Alright. Not a large concern, if you would want to.. be with me. I've done it before." The warm breath washed over his neck, making the skin flush there. "What do you want?"
"I-" Doogie closed his eyes. He needed to think. He had to think about all the consequences and the benefits of trying to explore what he had with Charles. What did he have with Charles anyway? It was nothing like what he had with Wanda, or any of his other girlfriends. It was new and terrifying and exciting but was it something he should try?
He had the real possibility of losing Vinnie as his friend. He knew Vinnie was homophobic.
If he saw..
But Europe was all about going on an exciting new adventure. He had wanted to find out what he was like outside of being a doctor, didn't he? This was completely different from Dr. Douglas Howser in America.
He decided instantly that maybe it was better if he didn't think or analyze what was going on. Maybe that was his problem, because whenever he tried to think things through he missed out on so much. Being impulsive seemed to work for everyone else his age, it should work for him too theoretically.
"I want to be with you. I want to grow and learn and find out more about this side of me I didn't know. I want to know more about you too."
The kiss after Doogie spoke was even sweeter than the first.
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What was the point, anyway? What was the point in struggling on?
He tried to remember - through the pain and the delirium and the (totally hot) nurses fussing round him - he tried to remember what had got him through this when he was six years old. Yeah, sure, everyone had told him he was going to "live". His family had told him to "live". Perhaps it had been easier to believe that? But Barney knew that no one expected him to survive the cancer this time. He knew, with that terrifying clarity that only an adult can possess, that the odds were stacked high against him. Even he, awesome gambler extraordinaire, wouldn't take that bet.
It was time to hand in the towel. Time to hang up his stethoscope. Time to trade in Armani for cedar-wood. Barney had no fear of being buried alive. In fact, he found the thought comforting; slowly suffocating to death with a ton of earth surrounding and protecting him.
Anything was better than the pain that he knew for certain would come.
No more "treatment". No more "procedures". Barney Stinson wasn't just another patient that they could bullshit. He was "informed".
It gave him a slight (last?) frisson of pleasure to think about how much this would annoy his oncologist.
He wondered, with a strength that was almost perceptibly ebbing, if there was a way to contact his parents before he went. If he could apologize?
Barney smiled. The drugs… he knew it was the drugs. Right now, they were keeping the pain at bay. But he knew the pain was there - like a shipwreck hidden beneath the high-tide, only to be revealed in an hour or two when it would rise, horrible and gothic and stinking and fetid. A disease that he'd never be free of.
No point. No hope. Nothing to live for.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Ted went to Barney later that evening with Dr. Oberlin to tell him the bone marrow results, the reaction was not what Ted was expecting at all.
"I want to stop treatment." Barney had refused to look at either of them and stared out of his window since they had come in. It was like he had already begun preparing himself for the bad news before they had even gotten there. He had gone completely still when he was being told that there were no matches and now he was almost statue-like.
Ted was gobsmacked. "What?"
Dr. Oberlin raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure Mr. Stinson? There are still several options you have at this point--"
"Don't." Barney turned his head to stare at his doctor, completely ignoring Ted for the moment. "I understand exactly what my options are and how little of a chance I have to find a match in the database. I know. I'm not going to spend the rest of my days here with that false hope."
"Alright," Dr. Oberlin made a note on the clipboard beside Barney's bed. "We will stop the chemotherapy and keep you under pain medication. But if you change your mind-"
"I won't."
"-If you do, just inform a nurse."
Dr. Oberlin left the room and Ted couldn't believe what just happened. He didn't even know what he could say to Barney after seeing the utter lack of hope in his eyes. It was like Barney knew none of them would be a match and had already come to terms with it. Ted was still trying to process his own emotional reaction to the news.
How could Barney accept death so calmly?
Authors: jerseystrife , idioticonion and alixzin
Rating: mild M for some unpleasant adult themes
Summary: Something is terribly wrong with Barney Stinson and his friends have all started to notice him avoiding them. When questions arise, Barney fights to keep his secrets and to keep the life he's grown comfortable with living.
Disclaimer: Sadly, none of us own either of the shows.
Note: This is one of my favorite parts! <3 And of course, a million thanks to roland44 for the beta.
Previous Chapters: One| Two| Three| Four| Five| Six| Seven| Eight| Nine| Ten| Eleven| Twelve| Thirteen| Fourteen
November, 2008
Barney reached out, his fingers just brushing Robin's arm as she sat back in her chair. He ground his teeth in frustration.
"Robin," he croaked. "Robin, I need to talk to you."
"Shh!" she said, unhelpfully, trying to smile (although it was that fake, newscaster smile, he could see that) while straightening the sheet that was draped over his chest. She was always so careful not to disturb the wires and tubes and needles, far more careful than any of the others. She went to fetch a glass of water for him.
"Please," he said, "Don't make me come over there!" He tried to smile but his face seemed to lock into a grimace. She flashed him a grin, regardless.
"You're chirpy today."
The words hung in the air between them, hammering home just how bad things had got when his ability to string together a coherent sentence was considered "chirpy".
"This might be the last time," he forced out each word, not even trying to conserve his energy. "I know the odds. I might not be this lucid tomorrow, or ever again. In five minutes I get the next round of meds and-"
Robin's distress was obvious, "Barney, are you in pain, because…?"
"No," he tried to shake his head but the muscles in his neck no longer seemed to work. Of course he was in pain, but the pain kept him awake, kept him talking. This was it, he knew it now. This was his last time. "No, it's okay. I just… let me talk, woman!"
Robin sat down on the chair and smiled at him demurely. "Go ahead."
He sighed and closed his eyes briefly. "Robin, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you since practically the first moment I saw you. It's been tough for me to realize it and accept it but I had to tell you. I had to tell you not because I expect anything from you or would ever think you'd return this… Look, I just wanted you to know that at one point in your life, someone existed in the world who loved you without limits, who would have done anything at all for you and… Robin…" He opened his eyes. The world spun alarmingly around him. He was losing focus, whirling around like ship caught in a storm - rudderless, directionless, lost…
He felt her grip his hand. He felt her pull him back, pressing her lips into his palm.
"I'm so- sorry," he stammered, his lungs feeling like they were on fire. "I didn't mean… to g-give… you such a mindfuck. I'm an insensitive… h-heartless… bastard…"
He could feel her tears, the wetness on the tips of her fingers.
"It's not the drugs…" he whispered, the words drifting from his lips like vapor. "It's the truth, Robin. Loving you is my biggest secret." He tried to laugh at the irony of this confession, his chest heaving.
"I know," Robin said, her voice thick with emotion. "It's okay, I know." Her hand drifted across his forehead. "You get some sleep."
Sleep was called 'the little death', he thought, as his eyelids drooped. And he realized that there was a good chance that he wouldn't wake up this time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Late-Summer 1996
They were laughing as they exited the karaoke bar later that night. Doogie shook his head again. "I can't believe I squeaked. I know I can reach that note, but I don't know what happened. My voice just gave out on me."
Charles pulled him to the side of the bar, still chuckling. "I have to admit, that was the best mouse squeak impression I have ever heard."
"Ha!" Leaning against the side of the building, Doogie ran a hand through his hair. "I'm definitely never doing this again. The verbal assault of half my audience laughing at me will be in the back of my mind every stage production I do from now on."
Charles shrugged, much calmer as the cool night air hit him. "Learning experiences. We all need them otherwise we would never grow as people." He glanced at Doogie out of the corner of his eye. "Thanks for coming with me. I know I practically dragged you on an adventure where you ended up completely embarrassed in front of fifty or more strangers..."
Doogie looked at the ground, shrugging. "No! I mean, I had fun. Well, being laughed at by that many people wasn't fun but the overall time was great. Although I'm pretty sure if I don't get a cab home I'm going to end up passing out-"
Lips were covering his, cutting off his sentence.
Startled, but not completely unwilling, Doogie closed his eyes. Unlike their other kisses, this was wasn't messy or all consuming. It was warm, soft, and soothing like the alcohol shots he had earlier. It was a different kiss, something new and interesting. It reminded him of his kisses with Wanda.
Pulling Charles closer to him, he slipped his hands under Charles jacket. At his touch, Charles jerked back muttering "cold hands!" and Doogie had to laugh, it was just too funny to see how easy it was to make Charles react. Charles raised an eyebrow but didn't back out of the embrace.
"Doogie, I want to be with you. I'm probably the first guy to want you this way. But I want to be your learning experience and to watch you grow." Charles lifted Doogie's chin, making their eyes fully meet. He was smiling, and it wasn't the sexual smile that Doogie often saw but the true, happy smile that Charles rarely showed. "You are the most interesting and exciting person I've come to know in a very long time and I want you to know I haven't dated anyone since I met you at the club. I just needed excuses to be with you."
Was he blushing? He felt his cheeks were getting warmer. It could have been from the cold, the alcohol, or Charles' words. It was probably a combination of all three. But then he thought about what would happen if he and Charles were in a relationship together. What would Vinnie say? He wasn't the most open-minded person. "I-Um, I.."
Charles kissed his cheek, near the corner of his mouth. "I know. You never told your mate Vinnie about our little meetings?"
"N-No. He has no idea."
Charles sighed. He dipped his head to rest on Doogie's shoulder. "Okay. Alright. Not a large concern, if you would want to.. be with me. I've done it before." The warm breath washed over his neck, making the skin flush there. "What do you want?"
"I-" Doogie closed his eyes. He needed to think. He had to think about all the consequences and the benefits of trying to explore what he had with Charles. What did he have with Charles anyway? It was nothing like what he had with Wanda, or any of his other girlfriends. It was new and terrifying and exciting but was it something he should try?
He had the real possibility of losing Vinnie as his friend. He knew Vinnie was homophobic.
If he saw..
But Europe was all about going on an exciting new adventure. He had wanted to find out what he was like outside of being a doctor, didn't he? This was completely different from Dr. Douglas Howser in America.
He decided instantly that maybe it was better if he didn't think or analyze what was going on. Maybe that was his problem, because whenever he tried to think things through he missed out on so much. Being impulsive seemed to work for everyone else his age, it should work for him too theoretically.
"I want to be with you. I want to grow and learn and find out more about this side of me I didn't know. I want to know more about you too."
The kiss after Doogie spoke was even sweeter than the first.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
What was the point, anyway? What was the point in struggling on?
He tried to remember - through the pain and the delirium and the (totally hot) nurses fussing round him - he tried to remember what had got him through this when he was six years old. Yeah, sure, everyone had told him he was going to "live". His family had told him to "live". Perhaps it had been easier to believe that? But Barney knew that no one expected him to survive the cancer this time. He knew, with that terrifying clarity that only an adult can possess, that the odds were stacked high against him. Even he, awesome gambler extraordinaire, wouldn't take that bet.
It was time to hand in the towel. Time to hang up his stethoscope. Time to trade in Armani for cedar-wood. Barney had no fear of being buried alive. In fact, he found the thought comforting; slowly suffocating to death with a ton of earth surrounding and protecting him.
Anything was better than the pain that he knew for certain would come.
No more "treatment". No more "procedures". Barney Stinson wasn't just another patient that they could bullshit. He was "informed".
It gave him a slight (last?) frisson of pleasure to think about how much this would annoy his oncologist.
He wondered, with a strength that was almost perceptibly ebbing, if there was a way to contact his parents before he went. If he could apologize?
Barney smiled. The drugs… he knew it was the drugs. Right now, they were keeping the pain at bay. But he knew the pain was there - like a shipwreck hidden beneath the high-tide, only to be revealed in an hour or two when it would rise, horrible and gothic and stinking and fetid. A disease that he'd never be free of.
No point. No hope. Nothing to live for.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Ted went to Barney later that evening with Dr. Oberlin to tell him the bone marrow results, the reaction was not what Ted was expecting at all.
"I want to stop treatment." Barney had refused to look at either of them and stared out of his window since they had come in. It was like he had already begun preparing himself for the bad news before they had even gotten there. He had gone completely still when he was being told that there were no matches and now he was almost statue-like.
Ted was gobsmacked. "What?"
Dr. Oberlin raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure Mr. Stinson? There are still several options you have at this point--"
"Don't." Barney turned his head to stare at his doctor, completely ignoring Ted for the moment. "I understand exactly what my options are and how little of a chance I have to find a match in the database. I know. I'm not going to spend the rest of my days here with that false hope."
"Alright," Dr. Oberlin made a note on the clipboard beside Barney's bed. "We will stop the chemotherapy and keep you under pain medication. But if you change your mind-"
"I won't."
"-If you do, just inform a nurse."
Dr. Oberlin left the room and Ted couldn't believe what just happened. He didn't even know what he could say to Barney after seeing the utter lack of hope in his eyes. It was like Barney knew none of them would be a match and had already come to terms with it. Ted was still trying to process his own emotional reaction to the news.
How could Barney accept death so calmly?