Chapter Text
Ian walks through those doors he knows awfully well and sits down at his usual spot in the still quiet bar.
The bartender gives him a quick nod. "One moment, Ian. Just finishing up someone else's order," he says.
"Sure, Barney, take your time," Ian responds lazily.
"What can I get for you?" Barney asks him.
"Whatever you have on draft," Ian responds.
"We just got IPA delivered. Want that, my guy?"
"Yeah, sure," Ian responds.
While Barney gets him the beer, he looks around.
"Is that a new painting over there? I like it," Ian says, a little suspicious of the fact that he hasn't seen it before, since he is here at least 3 times a week lately.
"Here's your IPA. Yeah, it is. We got it last Wednesday. I got to say, not really my style man, a little too abstract I guess... But it's great you like it. You're here as much as I am, if not more," he said, laughing at his own joke.
Barney's about to walk off when Ian stops him, "Wait, man. That doesn't make any sense. If you got it last Wednesday and I was here Thursday, then I should have seen it, right? Why do I only notice it now?"
Barney looks at him a little confused, "Man, really? You really can't remem... Oh, okay, I see it now. Your acting skills go beyond, man! Like you really got me there, I'm impressed," he says, laughing like any of this was even just a little funny about all this.
"Barney, I'm not kidding... I really haven't seen this painting before, and it's big! Way too big to miss! Please tell me what the fuck is going on," Ian said, sounding more desperate than he had intended to.
"Ian, are you, like... Are you alright? You seem a little pale. Want some water?" As Barney was getting more concerned, Ian started to get frustrated.
"Yes, Barney, I'm fine, I just need to know why the fuck I can't remember the damn painting! Or anything from that night, actually..."
Barney looked a little shocked by the unexpected aggression, as Ian normally never talks like this.
"Hey, man. Calm down, okay? If you raise your voice again, I will have to throw you out, just so you know," he said, warning Ian.
Then, after seeing the irritation on Ian's face, he continues, "So, if I'm understanding this correctly, you really don't know anything about Thursday anymore?"
Ian, not wanting to waste any more time on this stupid conversation, just gave him a nod.
"Well, I mean. I knew you had been drinking before coming here, but it was only 8 pm. I really didn't realise you were that far gone, or I would have never served you."
"It all makes sense now," Ian says, more to himself than to Barney. "I woke up with a hickey... Barney, did you see me with a girl by any chance?"
"Look, man, it was real damn busy. Way busier than ever before, and Charlotte had called in sick, so I had my hands full."
"So you can't tell me anything? Come on, man, I'm so regular, I see you more often than I see my close friends..."
"It's not that I saw nothing. No matter how busy I am, I still see everything that happens in this bar. It would be dangerous if I didn't people can do some crazy shit when they're drunk." Barney thought about that for a few seconds, then uttered the bizarre words: "You could call me God. At least, of this place."
"Jesus Christ, man! You're out of your damn mind. But come on, this is serious. I have forgotten a full night and didn't even know I forgot it... because I woke up in my own bed..." Ian realised.
Barney was about to walk away to help the next customer, done with his unproductive conversation with Ian.
"Barney, BARNEY! Come on, man, I know you got shit to do, but the least you could do is inform me about what happened. I have the right to know about my own actions. Besides, you owe me." Barney doesn't owe him shit, but that isn't the point.
He needed to know what he had done that night, and more importantly, where the damn hickey came from. Why didn't he question that before? Was he really that busy that he didn't even have time to question a hickey?
"Barney, please. I need to know, or I'll go crazy. I think I'm already going crazy. I think I've been going crazy for months, now that Defy disappeared and the role I had to take on to keep the company alive. Barney, I think I've been going crazy for years now, been going crazy ever since Anthony left. Ever since he left, I have felt a void, felt empty, felt... depressed," Ian continued, voice soft now, almost a whisper.
Barney knows Ian is being sincere and isn't just trying to guilt-trip him into telling him. He knows how hard it has been for Ian, and recognises the change in his voice.
Recognises it from all the times he got to a point of drunkenness where he would get emotional and trauma-dump on whoever would listen. And Barney knew it meant Ian was being serious, being vulnerable.
So he gives in. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the talk he's about to have, and finally turns to face Ian, "Man, let me tell you what happened that night."
"Really? Oh, Barney, please do!"
"Come on, to that table over there. Evelyn, take the bar, will you?!” He yells to his coworker before walking off with the younger man.
“I know it looks a bit dark and gloomy, but people judge too quickly. It is the best spot there is. It's close, but not too close to the speakers, and far enough from the door that you don't get a blast of cold air every time someone walks in or out. Plus, you get some peace and privacy because nobody wants to sit near it."
"Thanks, man, I really appreciate it," Ian said earnestly.
They sit down opposite each other, Ian looking expectantly at his friend, waiting for him to say something.
Barney sighs, looks up into Ian's eyes and says: "I did see you with someone that night."