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last01standingTitle: Faces Through the Veil of Smoke
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is by no means mine.
Summary: It’s a ghost story. Except for all the ways it’s not.
Author's note: Very, very AU. But you can still expect spoilers through Shelter Island. [Barney/Robin, Marshall/Lily]
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Faces Through the Veil of Smoke
CHAPTER 8
Robin doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if there’s anything she can say. She didn’t know Barney Stinson. She wasn’t there.
“Sorry,” Ted says. “That was bad taste. It’s just, well, this is my friend, Barney. He’s usually a lot more alive than this. Or at least, he used to be. I’m starting to think he might not still be around.”
But Barney is around. Barney is sitting on the foot of his own bed, swinging his legs and looking completely and utterly miserable. “I’m so sorry,” Robin says. “I didn’t know. The way you talked about him—I just assumed he was dead.”
“It would almost be easier if he was dead,” Ted says. “I mean I love the guy, but it’s been more than a year. I keep thinking it would have been easier for all of us to move on if he hadn’t made it.”
“I’m too awesome to die,” Barney mumbles and Robin suddenly realizes that isn’t the problem at all. The problem is he doesn’t know how. She wonders how hard it had been for him before she’d come along.
It’s no wonder he’d looked like a ghost when’s she’d first met her. He looks so much better now. So much more human.
The one in the bed looks worse than the ghost. His skin is a sallow, sickly color. There are dozens of different machines latched onto him but at least he’s breathing on his own. The Barney sitting at the foot of the bed thought, that was Barney. The real Barney. Suited up and brimming with life.
“You know I think the last thing I said to him was ‘you’re an immature jackass.’ I don’t even remember what I was fighting with him about. It was something stupid about Stella. Guess I probably should have listened to him right?”
“Ted,” Robin says finally. “Do you really think he’d hold that against you?”
“I don’t know,” Ted says, shrugging. “I mean I made it out of a crash with barely a scratch. Marshall kept telling me it was a miracle and then Barney, Barney gets hit by a bus. There’s no such thing as miracles.”
Robin isn’t good with the physical, she doesn’t know what to do when someone’s upset but she moves toward Ted and loops and arm over his shoulder in an awkward half hug.
“He would have liked you,” Ted says. “I mean if he didn’t ruin it by banging you the first time he met you, he would have really, really liked you.”
They sit like that for a long time.
***
It goes on exactly the way it had before. With Barney tagging along at Robin’s side, cracking lewd jokes every time a guy hits on her. She talks to him when she’s alone, smiles at him when the others are around.
She and Ted start hanging out, just the two of them, grabbing bagels some mornings and coffee some afternoons. He tells her about Barney, about Stella, about ex girlfriends and how he’s starting to think Victoria might be the one.
Marshall and Lily start sitting closer and closer in the booth. They start stealing food of each other’s plates. They bolt out of the booth whenever the word asparagus is used. They’re clearly back together. Not to mention screwing at frequent intervals but neither of them say a word. Robin suspects it’s because of Ted. She loves the guy like a brother but he can hold a grudge second to no one.
Then one night when Marshall’s working late on some huge environmental case and Victoria nudges Ted in the side. “Lily,” she says. “Ted has something he would like you to tell you.” She looks pointedly at Ted. “Sweetie?”
“If you hurt Marshall again I will make you pay,” Ted says.
Victoria elbows him hard in the ribs. “But this is the happiest I’ve seen him in years,” Ted continues. “And Lily, it’s really good to see you back together.”
Victoria smiles and rubs his back. “Was that so hard?”
“About time, bro,” Barney says. “They’ve only been doing it again for a month.”
***
She goes to the hospital when she has the time, walks the increasingly familiar route to Barney’s room to sit by his side for an hour or so. Sometimes the phantom Barney follows her inside. Sometimes he doesn’t. When he is there, they compare notes on the rest of the gang, he recounts old sexcapades and wild theories about Jesus and the three days rule.
She runs into Lily one time, standing forlornly at the foot of his bed and telling the sleeping man, “Things aren’t the same without you.”
Marshall walks in on her once and asks if she even knew Barney.
“He’s one of the gang,” Robin tells him. “Even if he’s not around anymore.”
She makes sure she only comes with he’s at work after that.
Some days she visits with Ted at her side and it’s not weird. Not after she’d seen his breakdown. This is moral support. This is something friends do. On the second visit, she asks why Barney’s family never comes around. “His brother lives cross country,” Ted says. “His mom had been sick on an off for years. Cancer. It came out of remission a few months after Barney’s accident. She didn’t last long. Me, Marshall and Lily, we’re all the family he’s got around.”
***
“Hey,” Lily asks one day when they’re going out for coffee. “What happened to that ghost you were seeing?”
Robin breathes in and out, plasters a smile on her face. “Turns out it wasn’t a ghost after all.”
***
Winter bleeds into spring and Robin quits her job at Metro News One, feeling like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She’s been offered a job hosting an early, early morning show. The hours are ungodly but it’s not Metro News One and that makes it damn near perfect.
They go out to brunch to celebrate after her first day, Robin coming off an incredibly late night, the rest of them working on morning time. Their table is set for five but there are six chairs and Barney sits at the empty place sitting beaming at her. “I’m so proud of you,” he says. “I told you! There was no way you wouldn’t bag that job. You’re going to be the best ridiculously early morning show host in the history of television.”
Ted raises a glass of milk in toast. “To Robin Scherbatsky and new beginnings,” he says. “May your new job be free of bad puns.”
They click glasses and down their drinks. Marshall winds up with a huge milk moustache and starts doing Groucho Marx impersonations until Lily grabs him by the shirt sleeves and kisses it off. Victoria, Ted crack jokes about PDAs and Barney cough-says, “Asparagus.”
The waiter comes back with plates full of pancakes and maple syrup to the cheers of the group. And everything’s good and fine and just about perfect until Barney starts to flicker.
Robin finds herself frozen, her fork halfway to her mouth, maple syrup dripping onto the plate
“Something’s happening,” Barney says. His face has gone pale. He seems to be on the verge of panic. “Robin, something’s happening!” He swallows. “You know you’re awesome, right? Totally the most awesome person I know.”
She wishes she could do something to comfort him, wishes she could say something to him like he’d said to her when she’d been upset about her job. She starts to make an excuse to leave but Ted’s phone rings and Barney’s suddenly no where to be found.
“Yes, this is him,” says Ted he listens for a minute and says, “Wait could you repeat that last part. You know what, wait, I’m coming over.” He hangs up. “It’s Barney.”
***
They take two cabs to the hospital. Marshall and Lily in the first. Ted and Victoria in the second. There’s an awkward half second where Robin stands immobile, not sure of where to go. Her friends have paired off and who did that leave her with? Besides, as far as they knew, she and Barney had never met. Then Ted pushes the door to his cab open and says, “Come on, Robin, what are you waiting for?”
She slides into the cramped back seat of the cab, bumping knees with Ted. Her entire body is on edge. She turns to Ted and sees tension laced through his every feature. His arm is on Victoria’s shoulder.
“So,” she says carefully. “What happened to Barney?”
“Well,” Ted says, “over the past few months they’ve been trying out these new experimental procedures. It’s called deep brain stimulation. Basically it uses electric impulses to encourage activity in various parts of the brain. Barney’s been showing some encouraging results, responding to stimuli.”
“Ted,” Robin says, more harshly then she intends. “Cliff notes, please. What does it mean?”
Ted swallows. “It means he might be waking up.”
“That’s huge,” Victoria says. “I wonder if he’ll be all right.”
“You’re not allowed to propose, Ted,” Robin says.
“What?” Ted sputters.
“What?” Victoria echoes.
“He does that after big life changing events in hospitals,” Robin says. She’s babbling now, hiding her nervousness by saying anything that pops into her head. “Victoria if he tries, say no.”
Victoria starts laughing. Ted turns red. “A hospital? Seriously who in their right mind would propose in a hospital. If I was going to do it I would do it right.”
“Yeah,” Victoria challenges. “I heard last time it was Kiddie Fun Land. That’s going to be a hard act to top.”
“I’d do it right,” Ted insists. “There’d be flowers. Champaign. It would be perfect.”
Those two, Robin thinks, those two are going to last.
She looks down at her knee bouncing anxiously, her fingers drumming on the window pain. Robin, she’s a bit less stable.
***
The hospital room is too small for five of them and there’s only one chair so with the couples standing next to one another, offering each other some small measure of comfort, it seems only natural for Robin to take the seat at Barney’s bedside. She stares at the pale skin, the atrophied muscles and tries to picture instead the Barney she knows.
“Doctor says it’s a waiting game now.” Ted says. “But for the first time in a long time, signs are looking good.”
Robin isn’t really listening to the clamor behind her. Instead she’s looking at Barney’s hand. At the limp fingers and white skin. Behind her, the two couples are wrapped around each other, supporting each other.
Impulsively, she reaches for Barney’s hand.
After months on end of phantom touches and chills, the warmth of it takes her by surprise. She feels awkward holding the limp hand, like a kid at a slumber party about to play a prank.
“I can see his eyes moving,” Marshall says excitedly. “You know like what happens when you’re dreaming! That’s a good sign, right guys? That hasn’t been happening before.”
In her hand there’s a sudden shift, not strong but a few fingers shifting against her palm.
Robin sits back, smiles and waits for a miracle.
(end)
***
Guys, I can't thank you enough for all your comments and encouragement on this story. Seriously, you're all awesome.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is by no means mine.
Summary: It’s a ghost story. Except for all the ways it’s not.
Author's note: Very, very AU. But you can still expect spoilers through Shelter Island. [Barney/Robin, Marshall/Lily]
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
CHAPTER 8
Robin doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if there’s anything she can say. She didn’t know Barney Stinson. She wasn’t there.
“Sorry,” Ted says. “That was bad taste. It’s just, well, this is my friend, Barney. He’s usually a lot more alive than this. Or at least, he used to be. I’m starting to think he might not still be around.”
But Barney is around. Barney is sitting on the foot of his own bed, swinging his legs and looking completely and utterly miserable. “I’m so sorry,” Robin says. “I didn’t know. The way you talked about him—I just assumed he was dead.”
“It would almost be easier if he was dead,” Ted says. “I mean I love the guy, but it’s been more than a year. I keep thinking it would have been easier for all of us to move on if he hadn’t made it.”
“I’m too awesome to die,” Barney mumbles and Robin suddenly realizes that isn’t the problem at all. The problem is he doesn’t know how. She wonders how hard it had been for him before she’d come along.
It’s no wonder he’d looked like a ghost when’s she’d first met her. He looks so much better now. So much more human.
The one in the bed looks worse than the ghost. His skin is a sallow, sickly color. There are dozens of different machines latched onto him but at least he’s breathing on his own. The Barney sitting at the foot of the bed thought, that was Barney. The real Barney. Suited up and brimming with life.
“You know I think the last thing I said to him was ‘you’re an immature jackass.’ I don’t even remember what I was fighting with him about. It was something stupid about Stella. Guess I probably should have listened to him right?”
“Ted,” Robin says finally. “Do you really think he’d hold that against you?”
“I don’t know,” Ted says, shrugging. “I mean I made it out of a crash with barely a scratch. Marshall kept telling me it was a miracle and then Barney, Barney gets hit by a bus. There’s no such thing as miracles.”
Robin isn’t good with the physical, she doesn’t know what to do when someone’s upset but she moves toward Ted and loops and arm over his shoulder in an awkward half hug.
“He would have liked you,” Ted says. “I mean if he didn’t ruin it by banging you the first time he met you, he would have really, really liked you.”
They sit like that for a long time.
It goes on exactly the way it had before. With Barney tagging along at Robin’s side, cracking lewd jokes every time a guy hits on her. She talks to him when she’s alone, smiles at him when the others are around.
She and Ted start hanging out, just the two of them, grabbing bagels some mornings and coffee some afternoons. He tells her about Barney, about Stella, about ex girlfriends and how he’s starting to think Victoria might be the one.
Marshall and Lily start sitting closer and closer in the booth. They start stealing food of each other’s plates. They bolt out of the booth whenever the word asparagus is used. They’re clearly back together. Not to mention screwing at frequent intervals but neither of them say a word. Robin suspects it’s because of Ted. She loves the guy like a brother but he can hold a grudge second to no one.
Then one night when Marshall’s working late on some huge environmental case and Victoria nudges Ted in the side. “Lily,” she says. “Ted has something he would like you to tell you.” She looks pointedly at Ted. “Sweetie?”
“If you hurt Marshall again I will make you pay,” Ted says.
Victoria elbows him hard in the ribs. “But this is the happiest I’ve seen him in years,” Ted continues. “And Lily, it’s really good to see you back together.”
Victoria smiles and rubs his back. “Was that so hard?”
“About time, bro,” Barney says. “They’ve only been doing it again for a month.”
She goes to the hospital when she has the time, walks the increasingly familiar route to Barney’s room to sit by his side for an hour or so. Sometimes the phantom Barney follows her inside. Sometimes he doesn’t. When he is there, they compare notes on the rest of the gang, he recounts old sexcapades and wild theories about Jesus and the three days rule.
She runs into Lily one time, standing forlornly at the foot of his bed and telling the sleeping man, “Things aren’t the same without you.”
Marshall walks in on her once and asks if she even knew Barney.
“He’s one of the gang,” Robin tells him. “Even if he’s not around anymore.”
She makes sure she only comes with he’s at work after that.
Some days she visits with Ted at her side and it’s not weird. Not after she’d seen his breakdown. This is moral support. This is something friends do. On the second visit, she asks why Barney’s family never comes around. “His brother lives cross country,” Ted says. “His mom had been sick on an off for years. Cancer. It came out of remission a few months after Barney’s accident. She didn’t last long. Me, Marshall and Lily, we’re all the family he’s got around.”
“Hey,” Lily asks one day when they’re going out for coffee. “What happened to that ghost you were seeing?”
Robin breathes in and out, plasters a smile on her face. “Turns out it wasn’t a ghost after all.”
Winter bleeds into spring and Robin quits her job at Metro News One, feeling like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She’s been offered a job hosting an early, early morning show. The hours are ungodly but it’s not Metro News One and that makes it damn near perfect.
They go out to brunch to celebrate after her first day, Robin coming off an incredibly late night, the rest of them working on morning time. Their table is set for five but there are six chairs and Barney sits at the empty place sitting beaming at her. “I’m so proud of you,” he says. “I told you! There was no way you wouldn’t bag that job. You’re going to be the best ridiculously early morning show host in the history of television.”
Ted raises a glass of milk in toast. “To Robin Scherbatsky and new beginnings,” he says. “May your new job be free of bad puns.”
They click glasses and down their drinks. Marshall winds up with a huge milk moustache and starts doing Groucho Marx impersonations until Lily grabs him by the shirt sleeves and kisses it off. Victoria, Ted crack jokes about PDAs and Barney cough-says, “Asparagus.”
The waiter comes back with plates full of pancakes and maple syrup to the cheers of the group. And everything’s good and fine and just about perfect until Barney starts to flicker.
Robin finds herself frozen, her fork halfway to her mouth, maple syrup dripping onto the plate
“Something’s happening,” Barney says. His face has gone pale. He seems to be on the verge of panic. “Robin, something’s happening!” He swallows. “You know you’re awesome, right? Totally the most awesome person I know.”
She wishes she could do something to comfort him, wishes she could say something to him like he’d said to her when she’d been upset about her job. She starts to make an excuse to leave but Ted’s phone rings and Barney’s suddenly no where to be found.
“Yes, this is him,” says Ted he listens for a minute and says, “Wait could you repeat that last part. You know what, wait, I’m coming over.” He hangs up. “It’s Barney.”
They take two cabs to the hospital. Marshall and Lily in the first. Ted and Victoria in the second. There’s an awkward half second where Robin stands immobile, not sure of where to go. Her friends have paired off and who did that leave her with? Besides, as far as they knew, she and Barney had never met. Then Ted pushes the door to his cab open and says, “Come on, Robin, what are you waiting for?”
She slides into the cramped back seat of the cab, bumping knees with Ted. Her entire body is on edge. She turns to Ted and sees tension laced through his every feature. His arm is on Victoria’s shoulder.
“So,” she says carefully. “What happened to Barney?”
“Well,” Ted says, “over the past few months they’ve been trying out these new experimental procedures. It’s called deep brain stimulation. Basically it uses electric impulses to encourage activity in various parts of the brain. Barney’s been showing some encouraging results, responding to stimuli.”
“Ted,” Robin says, more harshly then she intends. “Cliff notes, please. What does it mean?”
Ted swallows. “It means he might be waking up.”
“That’s huge,” Victoria says. “I wonder if he’ll be all right.”
“You’re not allowed to propose, Ted,” Robin says.
“What?” Ted sputters.
“What?” Victoria echoes.
“He does that after big life changing events in hospitals,” Robin says. She’s babbling now, hiding her nervousness by saying anything that pops into her head. “Victoria if he tries, say no.”
Victoria starts laughing. Ted turns red. “A hospital? Seriously who in their right mind would propose in a hospital. If I was going to do it I would do it right.”
“Yeah,” Victoria challenges. “I heard last time it was Kiddie Fun Land. That’s going to be a hard act to top.”
“I’d do it right,” Ted insists. “There’d be flowers. Champaign. It would be perfect.”
Those two, Robin thinks, those two are going to last.
She looks down at her knee bouncing anxiously, her fingers drumming on the window pain. Robin, she’s a bit less stable.
The hospital room is too small for five of them and there’s only one chair so with the couples standing next to one another, offering each other some small measure of comfort, it seems only natural for Robin to take the seat at Barney’s bedside. She stares at the pale skin, the atrophied muscles and tries to picture instead the Barney she knows.
“Doctor says it’s a waiting game now.” Ted says. “But for the first time in a long time, signs are looking good.”
Robin isn’t really listening to the clamor behind her. Instead she’s looking at Barney’s hand. At the limp fingers and white skin. Behind her, the two couples are wrapped around each other, supporting each other.
Impulsively, she reaches for Barney’s hand.
After months on end of phantom touches and chills, the warmth of it takes her by surprise. She feels awkward holding the limp hand, like a kid at a slumber party about to play a prank.
“I can see his eyes moving,” Marshall says excitedly. “You know like what happens when you’re dreaming! That’s a good sign, right guys? That hasn’t been happening before.”
In her hand there’s a sudden shift, not strong but a few fingers shifting against her palm.
Robin sits back, smiles and waits for a miracle.
(end)
Guys, I can't thank you enough for all your comments and encouragement on this story. Seriously, you're all awesome.
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9/5/09 02:54 (UTC)