"I'll take the ten slaps now," Barney said, without hesitation.

"Dude!" Robin said. "That's- how?"

Lily looked a tad uncomfortable and Barney felt a swell of pride that said she wasn't expecting him to go for that. After all, ten slaps was ridiculous. Stupid. It'd never-

Then Marshall hit him.

He hit him three of four times, stumbling into Lily, who pushed him forward and away, back into the barrage of slaps. Barney toppled over, sprawling across the back of the couch, and the pain exploded across his eye socket and cheekbone as Marshall's hand crashed into it. He tasted blood, bile, felt hot and cold all at once, then numb.

He was falling, everything was muted - he only heard snatches of conversation.

"Oh my god, are you crying?"

"Dude, I think he's really hurt!"

"Barney? Hey man. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Barney? Jesus, get him sat up? Get him up?"

"Barney, can you hear me? Jesus Marshall, his face is swelling up! You freakin' idiot!"

"Marshall, I didn't mean it! Is it my fault?"

"Barney! Dude, stay with us? Dude… on god, someone call 911!"

"C'mon guys, you really think-? He's faking!"

"Barney…"

He was falling, faster, faster. His feet were pulled up into the air, his upper body moved so he was lying flat. Suddenly, his stomach swirled around and he groaned, rolled over, and hurled violently.

"Ew!"

"Shut up! Concussion. He's got concussion. Shit. Crap. Holy crap, Marshall."

"Is it my fault? Baby? Is it-?"

"Five minutes. Gonna be five minutes."

"What if his brain's all swollen up? He could die!"

"No! N-oo!"

"Ted, stop it. Don't be such a drama queen. He'll be fine, just let him-"

"Robin, you're not the one with barf all over your shoes."

"Nice, Ted. Real nice. Whoa…"

"Barney, can you hear me?"

"It's not my fault! It's not!"

And then he blacked out.

*--*--*

Later, Barney came to in Robin's bed. The first thing he was aware of was her hand, stroking his face, running through his hair.