FIC: Dealing With It (4/5)
30 Jun 2009 11:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
promethia_tenkTitle: Dealing With It, Part Four
Fandom: HIMYM, Barney/Robin
Length: ~1,500 words for this section, 6,600 total so far
Rating: PG-13/R-ish for pregnancy angst
Spoilers: Not really. Set several years in the future with Barney and Robin in an established relationship that did not begin until a month or two before this takes place. I began this back at the beginning of season four, so it's now AU.
Summary: Robin gets pregnant and then unpregnant.
Disclaimer: If I owned HIMYM, Sven would have gotten the GNB commission. It breathes fire, Marshall!
AN: Remember this old thing? No, I thought not. It has literally been forever since I wrote part three. Expect the last part soon, though, because it took me *way* too long to get my voice back for this part and I really, really, really want to finish this (finally). For anyone who's joined the HIMYM love train since I last updated or for anyone who *was* around and actually cares enough to refresh their memory of what's gone before, here's part one, part two, and part three. For this part, it is important to remember that Marshall and Lily have been trying unsuccessfully to have a baby for some time and that the continued disappointments have been weighing on Lily.
“Tell me more about the hat.” Barney’s voice from the corner of the bed sounded tried—old, almost—and Robin could hear that his simple request was really a plea. She couldn’t see him from where she was lying, curled on her side, but she could picture the slump in his shoulders, the drooping, vulnerable look he got when the awesome had gone out of him and he didn’t know how to fake it anymore.
The first time Robin had seen Barney this way, she’d thrown pride to the wind and belted out Bon Jovi with unselfconscious abandon. Since then she’d made him soup; heard (and kept) his secrets; held him; made love to him; ransacked his closets for old, half-forgotten treasures; cheated; lied; told off his boss; dressed up as Madeline Albright (twice); and, one memorable weekend, flown to Borneo to bring him three pairs of tube socks and an issue of Reader’s Digest from 1978. Anything Barney needed, really, she had done and would continue to do because, while Robin Scherbatsky was by no means a supportive person (that was Lily’s thing), something about Barney in this state made Robin want—no, wait—need to give. To give whatever she could.
It scared her every time.
This time, Barney needed to know about the hat. So Robin started talking:
“I gave it to Lily. Someday she and Marshall will make good use of it, I guess. I bought it the day I went to get the abortion . . . .”
Robin stopped. She wasn’t sure if she was waiting for a response or just pausing to collect her thoughts, but when Barney remained silent and still she plowed on:
“I ran away.” She snorted ruefully. “Grown woman making a perfectly logical decision about what to do with my body, and I ran away.” She heard Barney exhale a long, slow breath. “I didn’t even get past the receptionist. I left so quickly, I couldn’t even think what I was doing.” Robin bit down heavily on her thumbnail and stared hard at the wall. “I realized nobody knew I was there. You . . . you didn’t know I was there. And then suddenly I was back out on the street just kinda walking around and trying not to think about you not being there.”
Robin sighed and closed her eyes. She tucked her hand back under her other arm, folded around her middle, and continued:
“You ever have that feeling that the universe wants you to do something?” Here she heard the faintest grunt return to her from the other side of the bed. “Well, it was kind of like that. Like in a fairy tale when you come upon the weird house in the woods, and you know you have to go in even though you don’t have any good reason to—even though it’s probably a bad idea. So I was walking and not thinking and there was this baby store and a hipster knitting something and a lot of weird, cute stuff and then this purple hat and I just bought it because it was the only thing that had made sense all day. And I went home and I threw it in the closet and you still weren’t there and I thought—”
Robin stopped herself. She was having trouble breathing, and she was suddenly unsure what time of day it was. She squinted at the dim light filtering through the curtains and tried to remember if it had been darker 20 minutes ago or lighter. Whichever it was, the light had gone quivery and liquid.
She worked to regain control.
“Anyway, it was purple and it had nubs and I gave it to Lily. I told her to keep it safe . . . .”
——————-
Six days earlier Lily’s muffled voice had called out from the depths of Robin’s closet:
“Hey, Robin? What’s this?”
“What’s what?” Robin shot back from the kitchen. “You’re gonna have to give me a little more to go on here.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to snoop . . .” Here Robin snorted in her head. The two women had known each other long enough, however, that she might as well have done it out loud: “Ok, fine,” Lily continued, “so I always kind of mean to snoop, but I was looking for the boots and I found this instead.” Lily walked back in holding a small yellow bag with a shock of purple wool poking out the top. She had the wary look of a small animal caught in the open.
“Oh . . . yeah, that . . .” Robin cursed herself inwardly both for forgetting about the baby hat and for sending Lily into dangerous territory unescorted. She dodged: “It’s a baby hat. See it’s purple and it’s got little nubs all over it . . .” She reached into the bag in the other’s hands and pulled the hat out, fingering its bumps and holding it up between the two of them for inspection. She raised her eyebrows in feigned excitement, silently begging Lily to take the bait and run with it. “Cute, right? Plus, you know what they say: more nubs equals more awesome!”
Lily cracked a tentative smile and fingered the hat herself. “I’m sure ‘they’ do, but Robin . . .” Lily’s face fell again, and her eyes went wide and searching, “what’s it doing in your closet?”
Robin turned back to the pot she’d been stirring so as to avoid Lily’s gaze. “I bought it the other week . . .” Robin trailed off, unsure of exactly how much she wanted to reveal—or what she wanted Lily to think. Robin wasn’t the only one who was fragile right now.
She stirred absently for several moments, watching her soup swirl and eddy in the wake of the spoon, listening to the soft sweep of metal against metal. Chunks of meat and vegetables drifted around the pot and slowly circled to the bottom when she pulled away. Stillness settled around her, and she was alone.
She stirred again: chaos.
She stopped.
She thought of Barney.
She stirred.
“Robin, honey?” Lily’s voice was very soft, very cautious. She nudged through Robin’s silence and re-appeared at her side, grasping Robin’s arm to stop its circles. “What’s this about? You can tell me.”
Robin glanced sideways at Lily. The scared, tremulous look was gone from her friend’s face, and now her mouth was puckered in concern, her eyes turned down at the edges. Standing beside Robin, one hand on her arm, one hand holding that silly hat, she was an unexpected intrusion. Robin blinked several times at the spoon and wondered if that also meant unwelcome—decided that maybe it didn’t. She set the spoon down in its rest and, turning to face Lily head-on, braced herself with a deep breath and a tight grip on the counter. She forced herself to start speaking, not knowing what would come out:
“Look, Lily, I bought it on a total whim. I don’t even know what I was thinking at the time, but I think . . .” Robin looked everywhere but at her friend. “. . . I think you should have it. Everything’s just been so . . . confusing, and it feels like nothing’s been the way its supposed to be and it’s all really unfair, but . . .” Robin realized she had no way to talk about this. She kept talking: “Well, you and Marshall want to have a baby. And right now it’s not happening, but you do know what you want, and we all know it’s right for you and that somehow, some way you are going to have that kid. And when that happens, well, you’re gonna be ready, and you’re gonna be great parents, and I’m . . .” Robin looked directly at Lily and gave her the best smile she could. “I’m gonna be really happy for you.”
“You bought this for me?” Lily seemed uncertain. She narrowed her eyes and searched Robin’s face, questioning.
Robin decided she couldn’t lie: “Take good care of it, ok?” And Robin brought her free hand up to her forearm to squeeze Lily’s reassuringly.
——————-
“Hey, Robin?” Robin felt the steadying weight of a hand on her hip and realized she was trembling. She looked up to the hand and then to Barney, whose eyes were sad but whose mouth was open and smiling slightly and making little soothing noises. “Hey, shhhh, ok . . . shhhhhh . . . ok.”
“What was I supposed to do, Barney? I’ve never done this before.”
Barney looked down ruefully for a moment. “Yeah, me either.” He rubbed his hand slowly over her hip, thoughtful. And then he crawled over to lay down behind her, curling himself around her broken form.
Robin let out a long, fitful breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and relaxed into his arms. “Barney?”
A gentle squeeze. A quiet murmur.
“What would you have done?”
Barney was silent long enough for Robin to wonder if he’d heard her question. Then he nuzzled into the back of her head, her tangled hair: “You did good, Scherbatsky.”
Robin pressed a shaky hand to the dampness on her cheeks.
Fandom: HIMYM, Barney/Robin
Length: ~1,500 words for this section, 6,600 total so far
Rating: PG-13/R-ish for pregnancy angst
Spoilers: Not really. Set several years in the future with Barney and Robin in an established relationship that did not begin until a month or two before this takes place. I began this back at the beginning of season four, so it's now AU.
Summary: Robin gets pregnant and then unpregnant.
Disclaimer: If I owned HIMYM, Sven would have gotten the GNB commission. It breathes fire, Marshall!
AN: Remember this old thing? No, I thought not. It has literally been forever since I wrote part three. Expect the last part soon, though, because it took me *way* too long to get my voice back for this part and I really, really, really want to finish this (finally). For anyone who's joined the HIMYM love train since I last updated or for anyone who *was* around and actually cares enough to refresh their memory of what's gone before, here's part one, part two, and part three. For this part, it is important to remember that Marshall and Lily have been trying unsuccessfully to have a baby for some time and that the continued disappointments have been weighing on Lily.
“Tell me more about the hat.” Barney’s voice from the corner of the bed sounded tried—old, almost—and Robin could hear that his simple request was really a plea. She couldn’t see him from where she was lying, curled on her side, but she could picture the slump in his shoulders, the drooping, vulnerable look he got when the awesome had gone out of him and he didn’t know how to fake it anymore.
The first time Robin had seen Barney this way, she’d thrown pride to the wind and belted out Bon Jovi with unselfconscious abandon. Since then she’d made him soup; heard (and kept) his secrets; held him; made love to him; ransacked his closets for old, half-forgotten treasures; cheated; lied; told off his boss; dressed up as Madeline Albright (twice); and, one memorable weekend, flown to Borneo to bring him three pairs of tube socks and an issue of Reader’s Digest from 1978. Anything Barney needed, really, she had done and would continue to do because, while Robin Scherbatsky was by no means a supportive person (that was Lily’s thing), something about Barney in this state made Robin want—no, wait—need to give. To give whatever she could.
It scared her every time.
This time, Barney needed to know about the hat. So Robin started talking:
“I gave it to Lily. Someday she and Marshall will make good use of it, I guess. I bought it the day I went to get the abortion . . . .”
Robin stopped. She wasn’t sure if she was waiting for a response or just pausing to collect her thoughts, but when Barney remained silent and still she plowed on:
“I ran away.” She snorted ruefully. “Grown woman making a perfectly logical decision about what to do with my body, and I ran away.” She heard Barney exhale a long, slow breath. “I didn’t even get past the receptionist. I left so quickly, I couldn’t even think what I was doing.” Robin bit down heavily on her thumbnail and stared hard at the wall. “I realized nobody knew I was there. You . . . you didn’t know I was there. And then suddenly I was back out on the street just kinda walking around and trying not to think about you not being there.”
Robin sighed and closed her eyes. She tucked her hand back under her other arm, folded around her middle, and continued:
“You ever have that feeling that the universe wants you to do something?” Here she heard the faintest grunt return to her from the other side of the bed. “Well, it was kind of like that. Like in a fairy tale when you come upon the weird house in the woods, and you know you have to go in even though you don’t have any good reason to—even though it’s probably a bad idea. So I was walking and not thinking and there was this baby store and a hipster knitting something and a lot of weird, cute stuff and then this purple hat and I just bought it because it was the only thing that had made sense all day. And I went home and I threw it in the closet and you still weren’t there and I thought—”
Robin stopped herself. She was having trouble breathing, and she was suddenly unsure what time of day it was. She squinted at the dim light filtering through the curtains and tried to remember if it had been darker 20 minutes ago or lighter. Whichever it was, the light had gone quivery and liquid.
She worked to regain control.
“Anyway, it was purple and it had nubs and I gave it to Lily. I told her to keep it safe . . . .”
——————-
Six days earlier Lily’s muffled voice had called out from the depths of Robin’s closet:
“Hey, Robin? What’s this?”
“What’s what?” Robin shot back from the kitchen. “You’re gonna have to give me a little more to go on here.”
“Well, I didn’t mean to snoop . . .” Here Robin snorted in her head. The two women had known each other long enough, however, that she might as well have done it out loud: “Ok, fine,” Lily continued, “so I always kind of mean to snoop, but I was looking for the boots and I found this instead.” Lily walked back in holding a small yellow bag with a shock of purple wool poking out the top. She had the wary look of a small animal caught in the open.
“Oh . . . yeah, that . . .” Robin cursed herself inwardly both for forgetting about the baby hat and for sending Lily into dangerous territory unescorted. She dodged: “It’s a baby hat. See it’s purple and it’s got little nubs all over it . . .” She reached into the bag in the other’s hands and pulled the hat out, fingering its bumps and holding it up between the two of them for inspection. She raised her eyebrows in feigned excitement, silently begging Lily to take the bait and run with it. “Cute, right? Plus, you know what they say: more nubs equals more awesome!”
Lily cracked a tentative smile and fingered the hat herself. “I’m sure ‘they’ do, but Robin . . .” Lily’s face fell again, and her eyes went wide and searching, “what’s it doing in your closet?”
Robin turned back to the pot she’d been stirring so as to avoid Lily’s gaze. “I bought it the other week . . .” Robin trailed off, unsure of exactly how much she wanted to reveal—or what she wanted Lily to think. Robin wasn’t the only one who was fragile right now.
She stirred absently for several moments, watching her soup swirl and eddy in the wake of the spoon, listening to the soft sweep of metal against metal. Chunks of meat and vegetables drifted around the pot and slowly circled to the bottom when she pulled away. Stillness settled around her, and she was alone.
She stirred again: chaos.
She stopped.
She thought of Barney.
She stirred.
“Robin, honey?” Lily’s voice was very soft, very cautious. She nudged through Robin’s silence and re-appeared at her side, grasping Robin’s arm to stop its circles. “What’s this about? You can tell me.”
Robin glanced sideways at Lily. The scared, tremulous look was gone from her friend’s face, and now her mouth was puckered in concern, her eyes turned down at the edges. Standing beside Robin, one hand on her arm, one hand holding that silly hat, she was an unexpected intrusion. Robin blinked several times at the spoon and wondered if that also meant unwelcome—decided that maybe it didn’t. She set the spoon down in its rest and, turning to face Lily head-on, braced herself with a deep breath and a tight grip on the counter. She forced herself to start speaking, not knowing what would come out:
“Look, Lily, I bought it on a total whim. I don’t even know what I was thinking at the time, but I think . . .” Robin looked everywhere but at her friend. “. . . I think you should have it. Everything’s just been so . . . confusing, and it feels like nothing’s been the way its supposed to be and it’s all really unfair, but . . .” Robin realized she had no way to talk about this. She kept talking: “Well, you and Marshall want to have a baby. And right now it’s not happening, but you do know what you want, and we all know it’s right for you and that somehow, some way you are going to have that kid. And when that happens, well, you’re gonna be ready, and you’re gonna be great parents, and I’m . . .” Robin looked directly at Lily and gave her the best smile she could. “I’m gonna be really happy for you.”
“You bought this for me?” Lily seemed uncertain. She narrowed her eyes and searched Robin’s face, questioning.
Robin decided she couldn’t lie: “Take good care of it, ok?” And Robin brought her free hand up to her forearm to squeeze Lily’s reassuringly.
——————-
“Hey, Robin?” Robin felt the steadying weight of a hand on her hip and realized she was trembling. She looked up to the hand and then to Barney, whose eyes were sad but whose mouth was open and smiling slightly and making little soothing noises. “Hey, shhhh, ok . . . shhhhhh . . . ok.”
“What was I supposed to do, Barney? I’ve never done this before.”
Barney looked down ruefully for a moment. “Yeah, me either.” He rubbed his hand slowly over her hip, thoughtful. And then he crawled over to lay down behind her, curling himself around her broken form.
Robin let out a long, fitful breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and relaxed into his arms. “Barney?”
A gentle squeeze. A quiet murmur.
“What would you have done?”
Barney was silent long enough for Robin to wonder if he’d heard her question. Then he nuzzled into the back of her head, her tangled hair: “You did good, Scherbatsky.”
Robin pressed a shaky hand to the dampness on her cheeks.
Re: YOU KNOW HOW IT'S GONNA END!
Date: 3 Jul 2009 01:58 pm (UTC)I'm glad to hear it. I *love* to hear about how other people write (sometimes even more than I enjoy reading the actual product), but I feel that I am often alone in this.
>One more question, is/was Lily mad at Robin for not telling her outright?
Hmmmm . . . I hadn't really thought of that. I'd say some part of her must be because, I mean, it's *Lily* and that's just how she is. But given the circumstances when she finally does find out, I think she had to mostly be shocked and worried for her friend. I don't know that she would really have *time* to be angry.