Medical Center. VIP Ward.
"No way!"
Matthew let out a panicked yelp after hearing Adam's warning.
"Chill out," Barney said casually, brushing it off. "Adam's just messing with you. I'm totally fine now."
"No, he's not," Adam countered, shaking his head. "It hasn't even been six months yet. We can't be sure you're completely in the clear—there's still a risk of infection."
"I'll take precautions," Barney shot back, smirking. "Trust me, no one knows safety better than I do. I'm not Joey Tribbiani—I'm not looking to end up with a kid!"
"I'm not telling you anything about my professor," Matthew said, his face twisting into a grimace.
"Oh, please. Who do you think I am?" Barney grinned smugly. "Once I've got my sights set on a target, no one escapes. You don't have to say a word—I'll figure it out."
"So, nothing's gonna stop you, huh?" Adam said with a cold laugh. "Not Matthew's future, not your friendship with him—nothing?"
"Come on!" Barney paused, throwing his hands up. "Why's it gotta be so dramatic? How does this even tie into Matthew's future?"
"Are you seriously clueless, or just pretending?" Adam scoffed. "Want Matthew to spell it out for you—how this could mess up his career and his whole life?"
"Barney, for real," Matthew cut in, his tone dead serious. "Don't mess around with this. She's our prof for a core class. If you piss her off, I might not even graduate. You know how hard I've worked to get through law school!"
Law school, like med school, started with undergrads and came with a hefty price tag. Just look at Matthew's pants—one glance told the story. A Columbia Law student with only one pair of dress pants? He only pulled them out for formal occasions, and even then, they'd worn out over time, sporting a hole he couldn't afford to fix. No cash for a new pair. He'd just grab a pen and color over the white underwear peeking through, trying to blend it in so no one would notice at first glance.
And yet, Barney—being the "thoughtful" friend he was—once yanked those pants right off Matthew during a stunt to drag him along for some company fun. Forced to buy a new pair, Matthew got roped into Barney's lie about a "50% discount." When the bill arrived, though? Even with the discount, it was thousands of dollars—way more than he could swing.
So, he gave up his dream of volunteering with his idol at an environmental org to make the world a better place. Instead, he ended up at Barney's shady, planet-trashing company, defending those jerks for a paycheck. Sure, the money was good, but Matthew wasn't happy. His skills barely grew. Barney just wanted a playmate at work—dragging him into pranks against the "enemy" in the building across the street, wasting time and energy.
It wasn't until Matthew earned enough to pay off that overpriced custom suit—and nearly lost himself and Lily in the process—that he snapped out of it. He quit, determined to get back on track. All that chaos? Just because of one of Barney's dumb jokes.
Speaking of which—pat-reon:belamy20—imagine Matthew stumbling across that while scrolling X during this mess. Maybe it's some creator he'd actually enjoy, who knows?
Lily and Ted turned to Barney too, their eyes boring into him.
"Alright, alright!" Barney groaned, slumping under the weight of everyone's stares. "I won't mess around, okay? Happy now?"
"Hope you mean that," Adam said, giving him a long, hard look.
Ding-a-ling!
The phone rang.
"Ross?" Adam answered. "Got it, I'll be right there."
He hung up, gave the group a quick heads-up, and rushed off to the ER. Ever since he started interning at the medical center, it felt like his friends were ending up in the ER way more often. Nah, had to be his imagination.
"Adam!"
The second he arrived, a panda-faced figure whined pitifully.
"Ross?" Adam squinted, barely recognizing him. It wasn't his fault—Ross's face was a mess. Both eyes blackened, cheeks bruised and swollen. Even his own mom would've had the same "uh, who?" reaction.
"What happened to you?" Adam asked.
"I got beat up," Ross mumbled, sounding both heartbroken and humiliated.
"Yeah, I can see that," Adam said, half-laughing, half-cringing. "But why?"
Ross might have a short fuse sometimes, but he was a total homebody who avoided trouble. Back in the day, he and Chandler got bullied by two jerks so bad they stopped going to Central Perk. They'd either choke down nasty instant coffee at home or sneak into the café, chugging scalding coffee and bolting before the bullies showed up. Adam had to step in to fix it. Otherwise, Ross—tough as he acted—only ever got feisty playing football with his little sister, Monica. Even then, her competitive streak usually put him in his place. Adam couldn't picture Ross picking a fight with anyone.
Well… okay, maybe he could. It'd be all bluster—acting tough until it was go-time, then stalling with a million conditions. "No face shots!" he'd say. "No using a watch as a weapon—wait, can I use mine?" Then he'd trip over some kid's jump rope while chasing whoever snatched his stuff.
"It was Mona," Ross said, voice heavy with defeat.
"Pfft!" Adam snorted. "What, she went full domestic violence on you and left you like this?"
"Can you let me finish?" Ross glared—or tried to, with those panda eyes.
"Hahaha!" Adam cracked up harder. The glare, the bruises—it was too ridiculous.
"…" Ross just deflated, totally done.
"Okay, okay, I'm done laughing," Adam said, reining it in. "So, Mona? Weren't you so into her you ignored Rachel—even when she was pregnant with your kid? How'd it come to this?"
"I didn't ignore her!" Ross snapped, flustered. "I asked Rachel if she wanted to get back together, and she said no. I didn't ditch her and Emma for Mona!"
"Oh, wait—it's official? Emma?" Adam raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Yeah, Rachel picked it," Ross said, shrugging. "I wanted Helen."
"You're kidding, right?" Adam's lip twitched. "Helen Geller? Didn't you shoot that down when Carol was pregnant with your first kid? What'd you say back then?"
"…" Ross's face went sheepish.
Helen Geller. Sounded way too close to Helen Keller—the famous writer who lost her sight and hearing as a kid and wrote If I Had Three Days of Light. Inspiring? Sure. But no parent wants their kid's name to hint at that kind of struggle. Back then, Ross had scoffed and fought tooth and nail against it. Yet somehow, with Rachel's baby, he'd blanked on all that.
"It's different!" Ross insisted. "Rachel's not marrying me, so the kid'll take her last name. Helen Green? Still a solid name!"